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marril96 · 5 days ago

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Casually Cruel

Chapter 2: Cruel for the Sake of Love

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: set in WandaVision 1.09. After Agatha’s defeat, you beg Wanda not to brainwash her.

Previous chapter.

It was only when you could no longer see Westview in the distance that you dared lower yourself and Agatha to the ground. You'd started getting tired what felt like an eternity ago, but you kept going, kept flying; the further you were from that town, from Wanda Maximoff, the safer Agatha was.

She was powerless now. Vulnerable. It was up to you to protect her.

She'd noticed you were struggling and had asked you to get down miles ago, but you'd told her it was fine. You were fine. You could do this.

You landed amidst a thick forest you didn't recognize, in a small clearing that seemed relatively safe. There were no people around. No witches. If a wild animal were to pounce, you could take care of it with ease.

As soon as you caught your breath.

You doubled over, taking in deep gulps of breath as if you'd been held underwater. It's okay, you kept telling yourself. It's okay. It's okay. I'm okay. You were far from, but the more you repeated it, the more likely it was that it would become true.

Agatha rubbed your back, softly, gently, light as a feather. "It's okay, angel."

The familiar warmth engulfed you; her touch always did that. You used to think it was her magic bringing you comfort, but now you knew it was her. Just her.

Hearing it from her mouth was enough to believe it.

You were okay.

You could breathe now.

The danger had passed.

Straightening up, you turned to Agatha and said, "Let me look at you."

Your hands were on her cheeks, cupping them, grabbing them. Too harsh, too forceful, but you couldn't help yourself. You needed to make sure that this was real. That she was real. That this wasn't some trick Wanda had played, a spell that had trapped you in your mind, giving you false hope that everything was normal. That you and Agatha were safe.

"Are you okay?" you asked, more for your own peace of mind than hers.

"I'm fine," Agatha said, even though she was clearly not.

Your eyes burned again, welling with tears. Your grip on her tightened. "Did she hurt you?"

She pulled at your hands, trying to pry them off her face; uselessly so for the more she fought you, the stronger you held on.

The black from her fingers was fading. Dark magic abandoning her as her regular magic had.

It sent another pang of pain through you.

She'd lost everything she'd worked for for centuries. All the power she'd amassed, collected, stolen, was gone, just like that.

She'd been beaten. Defeated. Humiliated.

You'd almost lost her.

Why hadn't she listened to you? Why did she have to be so fucking stubborn?

Why did she put you in a position to beg for her life, for her mind?

Why did she break you without laying a single finger on you?

Why did she have so much power over you?

"Stop that," Agatha commanded.

She didn't get to do that. Not after what she'd put you through. "Did she hurt you?" you demanded, fingers digging into her face.

"No," she said in that no nonsense tone that always told you playtime was over. She was serious, and you were going to hear it. "You are hurting me."

The realization shattered you. You instantly released her, brimming with guilt. With pain.

You had hurt her.

It was the last thing you'd wanted to do, yet you still did it. You had caused her pain.

You were just so angry.

At Wanda, for taking her power. For wanting to take her away from you.

At Agatha, for starting this shitshow in the first place.

At yourself, for being unable to help her. For being unable to do anything but watch her get drained, and then beg for her mind.

"I almost lost you!" you snapped, no longer able to hold it in. Not wanting to hold it in anymore. She wouldn't listen to you then, but she would now. She had to. "Do you realize that? I almost fucking lost you!"

Agatha flinched. You never talked to her like that. Even when you were pissed beyond belief, you never lashed out at her. You never fired the gun with the intent to hurt her.

Tough luck. This time, she hurt you first.

Payback was a bitch, as she damn well knew.

"This isn't exactly a walk in the park for me, either," she retorted.

"And whose fault is that, huh?!"

The words stung as soon as they left your mouth. You didn't mean to be that harsh. You didn't mean to twist the knife. It hurt to be hurting her. Salt to the wound; not just hers, but yours, as well.

At the same time, there was no other way to go about this.

This was her fault. She had gone after Wanda first. She had manipulated her. Played with her. Attacked her.

You'd begged her not to, to leave it alone. Something had felt wrong from the very start.

You were overreacting, she'd told you. You should just relax and enjoy the show.

Some show it was.

It shouldn't have been a surprise, really. Since when did Agatha listen to reason?

That didn't make it — didn't make this entire fucked up situation — hurt any less.

Agatha recoiled as if slapped. "You're out of line."

"No, you are out of line!" Angry tears spilled from your eyes. Your cheeks were on fire, your heart a drum abusing your chest. "Why didn't you listen to me? I told you this was a bad idea. I fucking told you!"

She was silent for a moment, at a loss of words. She knew you were right. Knew there was no argument she could possibly provide that would beat your words. "What can I say? Listening to people isn't my strong suit."

"Clearly," you said with more venom than you'd intended.

"Newsflash, sweetheart: I came exactly as advertised. You knew what you were getting into."

That was the saddest part of it all. You knew, from day one, what she was like, and you'd still allowed yourself to fall in love with her. You'd allowed her into your life, into your heart, and now she was here to stay. And the worst of it all was that you wanted her to.

You couldn't imagine your life without her.

Agatha continued, "If I'm such a burden, you should've let Wanda have her way with my mind and been done with it."

It was your turn to flinch. Shots fired right back. She knew exactly which buttons to push, which bleeding wound to poke. "You're not a burden." She could never be.

"Aren't I?" Her eyes lowered to her dress, the last keepsake of her once great power. To her nails, iridescent purplish-blue, attached to fingers that used to be black.

"Never." You grabbed her hands, gently this time. Entwined your fingers with hers. "I don't care how much power you have. I never did. You are all that matters."

You squeezed her hands like you always did when she was under the weather, letting her know that you were here. That you weren't going anywhere. Not ever. No matter what.

"You're the most important thing in my life. That's why I'm so fucking pissed at you. You do things like this, and you don't care that you could get hurt. And I can't protect you if you do. I don't have that kind of power."

Agatha finally looked at you, surprise etched over her face. Still, all these years — decades, centuries — later, she couldn't believe you had her back. No matter how many promises you made, how many risks you took, she could never get it through her head that someone could love her. That someone could put her first.

That she deserved that kind of devotion.

If only she knew how much she meant to you. Mere words and actions couldn't express it.

It needed to be felt.

"I don't know what I would've done if she didn't let you go." You were bawling now, the mere thought of what could have been enough to send you over the edge. "She-she would've had to kill me. I wouldn't be able to let her do that to you. So don't you dare say I should've let her have you. I would never."

You expected Agatha to put on one of her nonchalant masks and act like your words didn't matter. You expected her to call you an idiot. You expected her to sigh and roll her eyes and tell you not to be so dramatic.

Instead, she pulled you to her and enveloped you in a hug. She was warm and tender. Safe. Loving. You melted into her embrace, sobbing into her chest as if your life depended on it. As if this was a farewell instead of the middle of your journey.

"I never think before I talk, do I?" she said, more to herself than to you. "I don't know how you put up with me."

You resisted an urge to chuckle and utter a snarky retort. "You're not that bad."

"Mmm. So you say." She sighed. "I'm… sorry. For putting you in that position. It wasn't fair to you."

You would sooner get blood from a stone than an apology out of her. Agatha Harkness didn't apologize. She usually just kissed you or offered sex as a way of making up.

Wasn't this a unicorn?

"Please, don't do it again," you said softly. "I don't mind going on these… escapades with you. I just don't want you to go against dangerous witches."

Silence befell you for a moment or two. Then, "Okay. Done."

You didn't buy it. "Just like that?"

"Let's say I've learned my lesson."

What a lesson that was.

"And stay away from Wanda Maximoff. I don't want you anywhere near that woman," you told her.

An even longer pause. "Done."

"I'm serious." You pulled away and looked her in the eyes. Made it loud and clear that you meant every word. "I'm as pissed at her as you are, but this is not a battle you can win. There are other witches. You don't need her power."

"Like I said: done."

"Promise me."

Because she never broke a promise to you. Not a single one.

Agatha gave a small nod. "I promise."

And, finally, you believed her.

You let out a sigh of relief. Another concern lifted.

"You're sure you're okay?" you asked, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. Why did the tears keep coming? What was wrong with you?

"I'm peachy. All things considered."

"You're here. You're alive. You're safe. That's all that matters, " you said. "You can replenish your power."

"And how long's that gonna take?" she retorted, frustrated at the situation she'd found herself in. Frustrated af you for making sense when all she wanted to do was rant and whine.

"However long it does, you'll get it back."

"And until then, what? I'm supposed to frolic around, cosplaying as a human?"

"It's not like you'll be alone." If she thought you were going anywhere, she was gravely mistaken.

"Without my power, I'm a target."

God knew she had plenty of enemies — as well as a toxic ex — to hide from.

You raised a hand, fingers wiggling as magic crackled between them. "Like I said, you're not alone."

Agatha allowed a small smile to creep onto her mouth.

You returned it. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

That was your promise to her.

You had every intention of keeping it.

"I know you won't." She hated saying it, hated being the one being protected instead of the protector, but she knew she could count on you. She knew you would do anything for her.

You'd shielded her from the Scarlet Witch. You were terrified, scared to the bone, but you did it because you loved her. Because you wanted to keep her safe.

You were ready to die for her.

She couldn't have been in better hands.

"If you want, I can give you some of my power," you offered.

It was a risk; Agatha couldn't control herself when she siphoned, couldn't stop until she drained her target dry.

Maybe she could learn. Maybe you could stop her.

You were willing to take that chance.

Apparently, she was not. "Absolutely not!" She said, appalled, mortified at the mere suggestion. Her face contorted into what looked like pure, unadulterated distaste. "Are you out of your mind? I would kill you!"

"Maybe I can stop you."

"How? With the power of love? Will there be rainbows and unicorns and sprinkles of fairy dust? Will we hold hands and sing Kumbaya while I'm sucking the life out of you?"

Maybe.

Who was to say that wouldn't work?

"We'll figure something out," you said, shrugging as if this didn't bother you a single bit. As if it would be easy to change part of Agatha's nature that she'd never gotten under control in all her centuries on this earth in a few short days.

"Yeah. I'll find witches to drain. There, I figured it out," she said sternly.

"I don't like the idea of you being powerless." Even if it was her fault. Getting her ass kicked for it, for involving you in the shenanigans against your will, you could deal with. But this was too much.

It hurt to see her like this.

"I'm not awfully partial to that idea, either, but the prospect of killing you doesn't lift my spirits as much as you might think."

"Fine," you relented, defeated. Agatha may not have her power anymore, but her tongue remained as sharp as ever. You doubted even the Scarlet Witch's brainwashing would have dulled it. "When you say it like that."

"Y/N, I mean it. Do not blast me."

"I won't."

"If you do, I won't be able to stop, and I will kill you."

"I know, Agatha. I've seen you do it. I know what happens."

"I would hope you would after two centuries, but obviously I need to paint a clearer picture."

"You don't get to be mad at me," you said petulantly. You were one step away from stomping your foot. "I'm still mad at you. And I want another hug, but I'm not gonna ask for it because you're being a bitch."

She gasped dramatically. "Oh, no. Whatever will I do now?"

You rolled your eyes. Then, with a thought of, Fuck it, you threw your arms around her and held on for dear life. Life was too short to stay angry for long. Especially when you were with Agatha. No time in the world would ever be enough to have her in your life. Why waste it on petty arguments?

Her hands were on your back instantly, an instinct she'd grown into over the centuries of your relationship. When you held her, she leaned in. When you needed her, she reached for you. When you hugged her, she hugged back.

"I love you, you silly girl," you said softly, each word straight from the heart.

"Right back at you, angel," she said. Equally earnest. Equally honest. "So stop this talk of giving me your power."

"I just wanna take care of you." That was all you ever wanted.

Having her be so vulnerable, so exposed was killing you. What if something happened when you were away? What if someone hurt her and you weren't there to protect her?

"You already have," Agatha told you. "I wouldn't be here now if it wasn't for you. That's more than I could have ever asked for."

"I couldn't let her have you."

The mere thought of the Scarlet Witch was enough for your fingers to crackle with magic. You willed it back, shoved the anger down. There would be time for a tantrum later. Preferably when you didn't have your arms around a magic siphoner who couldn't control herself.

Offering her your power — your life — was a terrible idea. You didn't want to risk your life. You didn't want to die.

All you wanted was for Agatha to be okay. You wanted her to be that powerful witch whom everyone feared again. She'd worked too hard to earn that reputation for it to go to waste.

What could you possibly do for her? You were an average witch, at best. Nobody feared you. Few people even respected you.

How could you look after Agatha like that?

"I know, sugar." She pulled back from the hug, then pressed her forehead to yours. Her lips curled in a smile you knew all too well, the kind she always flashed when the mood was low and she wanted to bring it up for there was no use dwelling on the bad when there was so much more good ahead — figuratively speaking, of course. "That was you taking care of me. Now, leave the rest to me."

"Okay." You still weren't a hundred percent on board with this plan, but you trusted her. Agatha had never let you down before. If she wanted to take charge, so be it. Within reason. "But I still volunteer as your bodyguard. Until you power up again."

"I was thinking more in terms of you being my pet," she teased.

Two could play this game. "Considering the roles you choose in the bedroom, I'd say you're more my pet than I've ever been yours."

"Keyword being choose, honey. I can just as easily make different choices."

Color you intrigued. "Is that a promise?"

She smirked wickedly, like she knew you liked. "It's a threat."

"Consider me properly terrified," you played along.

She lifted your chin up with a finger, her nail grazing your skin. Gentle, yet firm. Hot and cold. "Good girl."

That alone was enough to send a shockwave through you.

God, you wanted her. Here, on this dirty ground. In muddy puddles and piles of leaves and branches. Just like back in the day, when you'd first gotten together.

Back then, the location didn't matter; what mattered was the moment, and that you'd used it to the fullest. Dirt, filth, taint, all irrelevant, ignored.

What a honeymoon phase that was.

Fuck!

Agatha may have been powerless, but she still had you under her control. She always did, and always would.

And, to be honest, you didn't want for that to change.

That power was what attracted you to her in the first place.

It wasn't her magic that made you want her, desire her, crave her like an addict chasing their high.

It was her.

Just her.

"I suppose being your pet isn't that bad," you conceded. Understatement of the century. "Honestly, anything is better than being your daughter."

Agatha shrugged. "Our options were limited."

"I'll never let you forget you made me do that."

"Made you? I made it perfectly clear that you could stay inside."

"And do what? Play hide and seek with that weirdo you cast as your husband?"

The truth was, you wanted to stay by her side to make sure she was okay at all times. You didn't yet know what Wanda was, but you could tell she was bad news. Her magic just smelled like trouble.

So you kept Agatha safe, more for your piece of mind than hers.

Until she'd told you to stay back and had ended up humiliated and defeated.

Agatha raised an eyebrow. "Is that jealousy I'm hearing?"

What was there to be jealous of? The guy was hot, you had to give him that, but he was nothing to her. It was strictly business. No pleasure for anyone involved. "Annoyance, actually. I couldn't stand that guy."

This prompted her to laugh, heartily. A stereotypical witch cackle you always teased her about, that she loved bringing out for the sheer drama of it.

"Speaking of," she said, cutting the laughter short, "someone needs to go get Señor Scratchy."

Right.

Her rabbit.

You knew you'd forgotten something.

"I'll go get him tomorrow," you said. You held up a finger in warning. "By myself."

Agatha raised her hands defensively. "I promised I'm not going back there. I'm a woman of my word."

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

She pouted. "I resent that implication."

You pecked her on the lips, which prompted her to curl them into a smile. One of those cute ones you could never get enough of.

"Come on," you said. "Let's go rent a room."

There was bound to be a hotel nearby. It didn't have to be rated highly, or be in the best neighborhood. All the two of you needed was a safe place to sleep for a few days, until you figured out what to do next.

Until Agatha felt comfortable in her skin again.

She could play nonchalant all she wanted; you knew it was killing her that she didn't have her power anymore. That she was this close to losing her mind along with it. She was one wrong step, one wrong word away from a full-on breakdown, and you needed for that to happen somewhere warm and safe. You needed for there to be a bath you could run for her, and a bed you could hold her in.

You needed for there to be a soft place for her to land on.

"Slight problem: you suck at mind control," Agatha said.

You gave her a look that threatened murder.

"No offense."

All possible offense.

She wasn't wrong, though. You'd ever quite gotten the grasp on it, no matter how many times she'd showed you how to do it. The few times you'd managed to get it working, it hadn't held for longer than mere hours.

It was easier for everyone involved for Agatha to do it.

And now she couldn't.

"I have a credit card, remember?" you said.

"It will eventually run out," she pointed out.

"I just need it for a few days. Until you teach me how to do proper mind control."

"Those lessons never stuck."

"Well, now they'll have to, won't they?" There was no better time to learn a new skill than when you had no other options. Desperate times called for desperate measures. "Until we find you some witches to drain."

Agatha sighed dramatically. "Honey, what would you do without me?"

You would probably be under much less stress.

But you didn't mind it. You loved your life with her in it. Even when she got herself into life or death situations, and put you in positions you never wanted to be in.

You loved her, through thick and thin, and good and bad.

You loved what the two of you had.

You wouldn't trade it for the world.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @miss-moon-guardian @hermslore @uniquelesbianidiot @natashamaximoff1 @alsoknownasmel @swan-queen-is-magic @tardisesandtitans @ahintofchaos @fruityhahn

#agatha harkness #agatha x reader #agatha harkness x reader #wandavision #marvel #mcu #fanfic #fanfiction #my gifs #edit

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isagrimorie · 3 days ago

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I’ve been watching video reviews praising Agatha All Along, and while I more or less agree with their points, one thing that bothers me is the claim that Agatha remained 100% evil, and she didn't change, and that doesn’t sit right with me.

Agatha didn’t have a redemption arc (or as Schaeffer put it, “This lady did not arc out.”), and I understand why. In fact, I love that about her character. The show doesn’t try to sand down Agatha’s sharp edges. I love that Agatha can feel so deeply while still being unapologetically a dick.

But the reason it bothers me when people claim that Agatha didn’t change is because she did.

To put it into context, for a character who hasn’t changed and remains firmly on a villainous path, the reviewers should look at another comic book show that aired at the same time: The Penguin. While it’s not an exact comparison, there are notable similarities: both main characters love purple (sorry, Oz, I mean plum), have a fascinating, wide-eyed, unhinged brunette antagonist, a teen sidekick, and a ruthless quest for power. But there are key differences between Agatha Harkness and Oswald Cobblepot.

The Penguin is the story of Oswald’s rise to power as Gotham’s crime boss. Agatha, on the other hand, was already at the height of her power and villainy. Over 300 years, she killed fellow witches, schemed, and connived. This all came to an abrupt halt when Wanda trapped her in a hex. With the help of Rio and Billy, Agatha eventually clawed her way free from Wanda’s distorted spell.

Initially, it seemed like nothing had changed for Agatha.

But Agatha did change. The Agatha Harkness of three years ago—the witch killer—wouldn’t have sat around a campfire trading stories and feeling emotional about it. She wouldn’t have felt any remorse for accidentally killing Alice.

(It’s funny how, between Rio and Agatha, Agatha reminded me more of Dream than Rio. Both are capricious and prone to holding grudges. Both were held captive by mystical forces and when freed, they denied they had changed—even though their captivity altered them in both small and profound ways. In the end, both characters die because of their capacity to change and are reborn, metaphorically or literally, wearing white.)

I appreciated that the show didn’t dull Agatha’s sharp edges. She was, and remains, a killer. Even when we get glimpses of Agatha’s tragic backstory with Nicky, the show doesn’t excuse her actions. She was a killer before Nicky, during her time with Nicky, and after Nicky. In fact, she became an even more prolific serial killer after Nicky. Her contempt for fellow witches deepened every time they fell for her road scam.

So, it’s tiring hearing that “Agatha didn’t change.” The ending of Agatha All Along made it clear that while she didn’t change—because such a drastic shift can’t happen in just nine episodes for someone with a 300-year history—there was, as Jac Schaeffer put it, progress.

Agatha never considered the consequences of her actions. For example, when she tried to avoid harming Jennifer Kale back when she was a rootworker and midwife, she inadvertently hurt Jennifer for a century.

Agatha spent her life trying to fill the gnawing black hole inside her, running from pain and avoiding anything resembling personal growth. She finds the Darkhold, and she becomes invisible to Rio, her remaining connection to her life with Nicky.

And, even when the world around her burned, nothing truly touched Agatha Harkness—until she found herself in the Hex, facing off against the Scarlet Witch.

Agatha was overconfident. Armed with her vast knowledge and the Darkhold, she thought she was invincible. But she miscalculated, becoming powerless and losing three years trapped in Agnes the Nosy Neighbor's life.

This disruption in Agatha's pattern is enough that when Agatha was about to restart her Killing Game, it gave Agatha pause. When Alice shows up at her house hoping to visit the Road, only to end up dead in Agatha’s basement.

There was even a moment when Agatha went to recruit Sharon Davis as a replacement backup Green Witch, she had to take a moment to confirm to herself that she could live with killing Mrs. Hart.

Agatha’s story (for this season, at least-- because there will be another season or sequel, dammit) wasn’t a redemption—nine episodes isn’t enough to atone for 300 years of killing. It's a story of moving Agatha into a position to transform. Or, as Jac Schaeffer called it, progress. Redemption may come later, but progress isn’t linear. For someone who is an unrepentant killer and con artist, even the smallest shift is big.

Agatha All Along doesn’t try to make Agatha into a hero, nor does it attempt to soften her sharp edges. Instead, the show offers a nuanced portrait—a reminder that even an unrepentant bad guy can evolve, even if they don’t fully understand or accept it themselves.

Agatha Harkness might not be “redeemed” but she isn’t the same either.

#thinky thoughts #tv: agatha all along #agatha harkness #the story positioned agatha into a path #if she would take it or not is all up to agatha #100% THAT witch

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rita-repulsa-ke · 14 days ago

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Flirting

Pure fluff. Rio is possessive, Agatha is annoying, they're both still in the period where they're uncomplicatedly in love.

”Thank you,” Agatha said, flashing a warm, cocky smile at the girl selling roadside produce, one that caused the other woman’s cheeks to heat and her eyes to avert, then glance back, half-lidded. Agatha finished gathering her collection of vegetables into her bag, smug with the certainty she could have charmed the girl into her bed with barely any effort if she’d so desired, and turned to go.

A hand closed tight around her wrist and she glanced at Rio, who had been examining the blacksmith’s collection of knives only a moment ago. “Yes?” Agatha asked, turning to head back toward the small cottage they were staying in.

“Don’t do that.”

Agatha blinked, taken aback. “Purchase vegetables?”

Rio looked at her with an uncharacteristic lack of amusement, head tilted too far to one side. “Ags.”

“What?” Agatha asked, genuinely uncertain—and then she burst into laughter. “Oh, no, Rio. Did I make you jealous?”

“Agatha.” It was rare for her to genuinely anger Rio, who tended to react to most of Agatha’s foibles with an aggravating mix of affection and condescension. From the other woman’s tone and the way she narrowed her eyes, this was one of the times Agatha had actually managed to genuinely irk her and so the right thing to do would be to back down and apologize.

That didn’t really sound like Agatha, though.

“I had no idea you were so insecure,” she said instead. “I mean, I understand, I am a catch.”

“You are,” Rio agreed, a smile playing across her lips, but it was a deadly smile, holding the promise of plague, war and myriad natural disasters, events resulting in untold casualties.

That smile presented a problem, but Agatha already knew the solution.

She was slightly relieved as they reached the cottage, though. Even she could be made to tremble when Death looked at her like that.

As soon as they were inside, she dropped her bag of produce and pulled Rio into a forceful, demanding kiss, a kiss that told the receiver in no uncertain terms who they belonged to. Then she pressed the other woman back against the wall of their cottage and kept her pinned there for a few minutes, working magic with lips and tongue that had Rio gasping and shaking by the time she was done.

Agatha leaned back, impressed by herself. “You cannot think that I would ever want anyone but you,” she purred, playing with Rio's hair.

Rio stared for too long, unblinking. Then she smiled, and while it was less threatening than her previous expression, it was still a smile like a wildfire or a volcanic explosion, an unstoppable natural force primed to destroy everything in its wake.

“…What?” Agatha said, pinned to the spot, seeing the oncoming disaster, but powerless to stop it.

“Agatha, beloved, come to bed.”

Agatha flushed down to her neck, swallowed with a suddenly dry mouth, suddenly aware that she might have tipped the balance too far the other way. Rio, overly excited, reached peaks of intensity even Agatha couldn't match. “I had plans—“

Rio’s fingers scraped her cheek, her expression adoring and possessive, looking at Agatha as though there was no one else in the universe. “Mine,” she murmured, almost to herself. Her hand wrapped around Agatha's wrist, tighter this time, fingers pressed in to feel Agatha's pulse pounding in her wrist. "Let me demonstrate."

Agatha managed a nod and allowed Death to take her to bed.

Much, much later, when Agatha was sprawled on her stomach, feeling herself akin to some kind of sea cucumber, boneless and barely capable of movement, while Rio preened her like a dragon admiring its hoard, she couldn't resist the urge to murmur, "Perhaps I should flirt more."

She felt Rio go still against her, then groan aloud, a sustained sound of frustration. "Agatha…"

"Who would have thought you would be so jealous? It's cute," she mumbled. Even moving her lips seemed to take an undue amount of effort.

A warm weight settled on top of her. "Do not. I don't like it. You're mine," Rio whined.

"I don't remember agreeing to that," Agatha, a woman unable to pass a pot without stirring it, said.

"…Agatha." Now there was real danger in Rio's voice again, something possessive but simultaneously uncertain that fascinated Agatha. She'd never quite gotten over how much Rio seemed to want her, and also somehow believed there was a chance Agatha would ever be the one to walk away. It was a kind of power, being wanted so badly by a vital component of the natural order and also a gorgeous, exciting woman who could have had anyone she wanted.

And Agatha did love power.

"Hmm?" she murmured, pretending innocence.

The end of all things took a slow breath, drawn through her teeth, then exhaled with enough force that the air brushed over Agatha's skin. "Sometimes you are very frustrating."

"Sometimes you like that," Agatha pointed out.

"This is not one of those times."

"Uh-oh. Am I in trouble?"

"Yes," Rio muttered, but her tone was more sulky than anything else. "A lot of trouble."

"I am quivering in terror."

"Why do I—"

Agatha froze, her brain filling in the rest of that sentence unbidden.

Put up with you.

Deal with this.

And if she were being entirely honest with herself, sometimes she didn't know the answer. Not that she didn't know she was amazing in every aspect, beautiful and extremely magically competent and very funny, but even she could acknowledge that she was a sometimes a difficult person to get along with, prone to wanting everything her way, with a strong dislike of the cloying romance Rio seemed to enjoy and a tendency to blow off other people's feelings with sarcasm, including those of her lover. Sometimes she heard her own mouth say things and braced for impact, expecting Rio to decide she'd had enough of Agatha's particular brand of difficult.

Now she rolled over, forcing Rio to ooze off her—gratifying, to be able to tire out Death—and tugged the other woman into her arms instead, squeezing hard.

"…Ags," Rio murmured, her voice softer, more amused.

"Ssh."

"I'm not going anywhere."

Agatha felt her cheeks heat, mostly at being so transparent. "…Well, neither am I," she said.

"Say you're mine."

"Rio…"

"Say it."

"Technically everyone is yours eventually."

That prompted a slightly too amused giggle, laced with some emotion Agatha couldn't read. "I want to hear it now, though."

"Claiming people is a little—"

"I'll say it. I belong to you, Agatha Harkness, heart and soul. All that I am, all that I ever will be—"

Agatha squirmed against her lover, a whine escaping her, cheeks red with embarrassment. "Fine, fine, I'm yours, all right? Whatever that means."

"Good." Then, "No flirting."

Agatha snorted, leaned forward and brushed her lips over Rio's. "No promises there, my heart. It is something, to be able to make Death jealous."

Rio cupped her cheek and in her eyes were unfathomable mysteries, secrets of the universe that evoked all sorts of hunger in Agatha. "But consider that it is ill-advised is to make your adoring lover jealous."

"What will happen, I wonder?" Agatha said, a smile taunting crawling across her lips.

Vines erupted from the floor, hooked around Agatha's ankles before she could react, dragging her up into the air, dangling in an undignified manner above their bed while Rio tossed her head back and shrieked with laughter.

"…Very funny," Agatha said, twisting around to try and find the best angle to blast the vines without hitting herself or caving the ceiling in. "Ugh, Rio, the floor."

Rio patted her cheek, sending her swinging in a slightly dizzying fashion. "Allll mine," she said. "Love you, baby."

Agatha sighed. "I love you," she said. "Put me down, please."

"Eventually."

Agatha gave her a long look. "Hey, Rio…"

"Hmmmm?" Rio said, sprawled out, looking up at her. "Great view."

Agatha gritted her teeth, closed her eyes and recited the words from memory, stirring her fingers through the air, three times counterclockwise, then one half turn.

The vine rotted and fell apart. She hit the bed, crashing half atop Death incarnate, who was laughing again, shrill and delighted. "That was impressive, Ags! We'll make a green witch of you yet."

"Of course it was," Agatha said, slightly smug at having pulled it off from memory, with a magic that wasn't her natural preference.

"Only…"

"Only what?"

"You may have overdone it," Rio said, levering herself up and pacing over to the entrance of their cottage.

After a moment and with the groan of a woman whose only wish for today was to return to bed, this time for sleep, Agatha followed.

Rio was staring down at her bag of produce, which seemed to be leaking and producing a decidedly unpleasant odor. "…Oh," Agatha murmured.

Rio opened it and pulled out a half-rotten onion, took a bite. "Not bad," she approved, while Agatha tried not to gag.

"…So we'll need more vegetable for dinner,” Agatha said after a moment, and she couldn't stop the mischief leaking into her tone. "I could—"

Rio's attention snapped to her. "I'll do it."

"Oh. Are you sure?"

Rio nodded. "Well, if you insist," Agatha said, pretending to concede, secretly delighted not to have to put on clothes and go anywhere, still fatigued from Rio's earlier attentions. She pointed at the bag of rotten vegetables. "Take that with you, please."

Rio picked up the bag, and before Agatha could protest, upended it onto the floor, then—did something. Agatha could tell magic was happening, could sense it in the way she might have felt the wind on her skin, but as always, Rio's magic had no words, no gestures. It simply acted on the world.

The rotted vegetables melted through the floor and presumably into the ground below.

"How," Agatha said, frustration leaking into her tone.

"The earth takes back what it created."

"That's—you can't," Agatha stuttered.

Rio giggled. "But I did," she said, and without even a gesture, she was fully clothed again, a simple green gown that did not make her blend in with regular people at all. Agatha could not imagine her blending in. "I'll be back."

"Take your time," Agatha said, but only once her lover was out the door. She clambered back onto the bed, brushing aside a few pieces of withered vine and collapsed, tugging the sheets over her body and letting her eyes close.

I belong to you, Agatha Harkness, heart and soul. All that I am, all that I ever will be...

Bullshit, she thought. No way.

Still, she fell asleep smiling.

Want to read something else? Try the apple for Rio eating more rotten fruit or Pranked for more of Agatha having to deal with her girlfriend's impossible magic

#agatha all along #agatha x rio #agathario

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theoriginalyorick · 27 days ago

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I’m so normal about characters who choose to believe that they are a monster and a Super Evil Guy who Loves Being Evil and Bad and is So Terrifying because the alternative is looking inward and realizing that some really messed up stuff happened to them. Yes, they were responsible for some awful things, perhaps even on accident, but they still have to keep living and try to rebuild themselves while admitting shame and wrongdoing. They still have a responsibility to themselves to seek out community and love and try again. That’s so, so hard to do, so they choose not to, because the “fundamentally depraved” narrative is easier to believe and act out. Being Just Some Guy is terrifying at first. Admitting that you were hurt by someone else, vulnerable, or made mistakes in the past is scary as shit, because it means admitting you didn’t actually have any control. It takes you back to that place of feeling powerless and scared. It’s realizing that you were in some ways a victim, not a perfect evil mastermind, and that can make you feel so, so small.

Processing trauma and shame can take a whole lifetime, and without a safe environment to do so, people are likely to lash out or shut down when confronted with it for the first time. I’m in no way defending people who deliberately continue to be awful to everyone after going through something horrible or doing something awful themselves, but I do think it makes for some fascinating characters. If you’ve made it this far, yes, this is post is somehow about both Agatha Harkness and Bill Cipher because the hyperfixations won’t let me go.

#gravity falls #the book of bill #agatha harkness #agatha all along

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watchmakermori · 2 years ago

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Womanhood as a prison in Natasha Pulley novels

I know that a great deal has already been said about Natasha Pulley’s portrayal of female characters, because even her most ardent fans (and I count myself among them) are often highly critical of how women are written in her stories - or, more aptly, written out of them.

But I think there is more to be said about how not only female characters are presented, but how the very concept of femininity is portrayed, via both the characters’ dialogue and inner thoughts. This analysis will reference all of Pulley’s books with the exception of The Bedlam Stacks. I’m excluding it on the grounds of it having little to no major female characters, but if any Bedlam superfans have any insight to add, please do reblog and contribute.

One of the main criticisms of Pulley’s women is their overarching similarity, so let’s briefly consider those commonalities. They are mostly educated, career-driven scientists (Grace is a budding physicist, Agatha a surgeon, Anna a much more experienced physicist). They are usually unnattractive by conventional standards; Grace is described as looking ‘like a boy’, Pepperharrow refers to herself as being ugly, Agatha is ‘tall and flat-chested’, and Anna’s introduction mentions that she has a ‘blonde buzz cut’ and is somewhat overweight.

They are also generally emotionally cold and poor caretakers, especially in contrast to the male characters. Joe’s wife, Alice, is noted to resent their daughter and engage with her far less than he does. Similarly, Shenkov is significantly more child-orientated than Anna. Agatha forces Missouri to watch a man having his throat cut, because she believes him too gentle for war. Said female characters may also show distaste for softer, more vulnerable women. Takiko Pepperharrow speaks of her mother like this (The Lost Future of Pepperharrow, p. 72):

Saying yes and simpering all the time was silly - her mother did that and even noticeably anxious ducklings walked over her mother

She isn’t the only person to speak of her mother with a degree of pity and distaste. Grace claims that to argue with her own mother feels like ‘slapping a kitten’ - Mrs Carrow is presented as too meek to understand her own powerlessness, to the point that she considers it an achievement to leave the house alone. In the epilogue of The Half Life of Valery K, Valery himself describes the pitiable housewife Cecilia as being ‘just as stunted as his own mother’. Similarly to Mrs Carrow, the aforementioned Cecilia is not presented as fully aware of how small and restricted her life is - her happiness rests on the outcome of a dinner party, nothing larger than that.

The common thread between these pitiable characters is that they embody traditional womanhood - they are married, they are subservient to their husbands, and they have children. Perhaps the most notable - and interesting - trend amongst Pulley’s female charcters is that they invariably have a complicated relationship with marriage, caretaking, and/or childbearing.

Pulley’s novels frequently frame motherhood (along with other traditionally feminine pursuits and behaviours) as an obstacle to the female characters’ goals. In conversation with her mother, Grace talks about the prospect of marriage in the following way (The Watchmaker of Filigree Street, p. 102):

“Wives have duties. If I have children I’ll go insane for a year and a half - don’t look like that, you did, with James and with William, it was terrifying - and that will be a year and a half of weeping over nothing and a brain made of soup in which I can’t work. And then it will happen again with the next child, and then slowly I won’t want to work at all, and I’ll always be soup...”

In Grace’s mind, having children is a barrier to her academic pursuits. She is fiercely certain that giving birth will not only reduce her brain to ‘soup’, but that the impact will be permanent - she will lose herself to motherhood, and it will take away her drive and her intellect. Similar sentiments can be found among other female characters, such as when Takiko observes the following (The Lost Future of Pepperharrow, p. 175):

All her sisters had had children, and all she’d learned from it was that people with children turned inward. She didn’t see any of them anymore.

Once again, there is the sense that motherhood steals from women. It takes them away from themselves by turning them inward, and also from other people in that they lose contact with family members. The Half Life of Valery K foregrounds Anna’s perspective on motherhood (p. 137), which is probably the most extreme of all:

..she had told him straight up when they got married that she wasn’t a natural mother, that she didn’t do well with small helpless things, because she had been trained to care about electron microscopes, thanks, and obviously she would gestate him a small helpless thing to look after if he wanted [...] but there would be no talk of staying home, nesting, or maternal fussing, because frankly that was nothing but weakness of character in a woman...

A significant part of this passage is the notion that Anna is not a natural mother because she has ‘been trained to care about electron microscopes’. Not only does this again put scientific pursuits and childrearing in opposition (you may care for one, not both), the verb ‘trained’ suggests that this behaviour is learned, as though she has been educated out of maternal desires.

At this point in the analysis, I would like to specify that discussing these ideas in fiction is not inherently problematic or anti-feminist. It is vitally important for women to be free to reject motherhood, and by extension it is good to see female characters who are unapologetically unmaternal and unfeminine. When I first read The Watchmaker of Filigree Street, I adored Grace’s character for this - I loved her arrogance, her stubbornness, her distaste for marriage, her coarseness. Even the fact that she looked down on other women made her fascinating to me, because we just don’t see a lot of multi-faceted female characters who act in this way. She was complex and interesting without being a Strong Female Character™ to look up to - she was allowed to be wrong and wildly dislikable.

Where I take issue, however, is the fact that we have never seen an alternative to Grace in all five of Natasha Pulley’s novels. She is yet to write a significant female character who is complex and important despite being more traditionally feminine - there are no women who are scientists and dedicated mothers, who are career-minded and gentle, who are fiercely independent and hopeless romantics. It is one thing for Grace and other characters to disparage the poor, oppressed housewives in their society, but it is another thing entirely for the narrative itself to disparage these women. A woman without an education is still a fully-realised person with her own internal life. Women who cannot attain much agency are still as complex as those who can, yet Pulley’s stories never quite acknowledge this.

Which leads me onto the overarching portrayal of womanhood in Pulley’s novels. I’ve always been hesitant to assume too much based on singular characters, as I do think it’s imporant to recognise that a character’s perspective is not a proxy for the author’s. But after five books, the patterns are undeniable, and I think they’re more marked in The Half Life of Valery K than they ever have been. Consider the quotation below, taken from p. 30:

[Valery] never knew what to say when women pointed out that they were women and that it was, generally, awful. There was a knee-jerk human instinct to say it couldn’t be as bad as all that, like he would have to anyone who was feeling blue, but it was one of those instances where it really was awful, and trying to say it wasn’t was somewhere on the spectrum between stupid and criminal.

Valery offers an invariably bleak perspective on womanhood, which is in keeping with the attitudes of the female characters in Pulley’s books. Not only is womanhood described as miserable - Valery also claims that to deny the truth of this is either ‘stupid or criminal’. There is no space to take a more positive view on femininity.

Being charitable, we could view this as a (heavy-handed) condemnation of sexism and patriarchy, and I do think that this is Pulley’s intention. But it’s worth considering that she does not discuss other marginalisation in this way. Despite the homophobia her numerous queer protagonists face, nobody goes on a similar tirade about the misery of being a man who loves other men. The trials and struggles are acknowledged, but queer love is still rightfully shown to be beautiful and privately joyous - in a way that being a woman never is.

Instead, womanhood in Pulley’s novels is oppressive and inescapable. Even a young girl’s fingernails cannot be neutral - they too represent the trappings of patriarchy (The Half Life of Valery K, p. 274):

“I can’t do it,” Tatiana said to her own laces. She studied her fingernails. “My tools of the patriarchy are getting too long.”

(This is an utterly bizarre thing for a little kid to say, by the way).

Towards the end of the novel, a carriage full of female prisoners is set upon by male ones, which is portrayed almost as an inevitablitity - we do not get a scene of exactly what happens, because the outcome is obvious enough to be implied. This outlook on the inevitability of violence against women is never challenged at any point; Valery only emphasises it in the final pages of the novel (p. 369):

every doctor he worked with and laughed with in tea breaks probably had an identical wife, all of them keeping women like bonsai trees

The messaging across Pulley’s novels is that of womanhood as a prison. There is little to no joy to be found in it; it results in confinement, loss of the self, isolation from others, and exposure to physical and emotional violence. Women who ‘succumb’ to marriage and children are given little voice in her stories - they are pitiable, ‘identical’ lost causes, called ‘stunted’, compared to kittens and bonsai trees. The only female POVs are that of women rebelling against conventional femininity, who are ambivalent or outwardly resentful towards caretaking, childrearing, and reliance on others. And even these women do not get to take up a great deal of space; all of them serve as obstacles to the central romances and all of them are written out to secure the male characters’ happily ever afters.

I do not believe that Natasha Pulley has malicious intent in how she writes female characters. It is important to address misogynistic violence and the ways in which the institution of marriage has restricted and oppressed women, and I believe she does try to do that. But there are ways to explore this issue whilst still acknowleding the variety of women’s experiences - and, crucially, showing that there is more to femininity than suffering.

But it requires time and space. Natasha Pulley has no hope of doing this if she does not start deviating from her usual archetypes - her stories need a better quality and quantity of women. While I live in hope of improvements to her female representation, I would be lying if I said I was optimistic.

#natasha pulley #the watchmaker of filigree street #the half life of valery k #the kingdoms #the lost future of pepperharrow #i wrote this instead of doing my actual job this afternoon #I just couldn't. stop. thinking about it #my friend finished reading the kingdoms yesterday and we ended up talking about the huge Weirdness of her female rep #and the more I looked back over valery k the more i think that book has such a STRANGE presentation of women and gender as a whole #the fact that it almost tries to pass itself off as feminist (in such a heavy handed way too!) while shafting the female characters is just #not good chief #long post

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findroleplay · 21 days ago

Note

𝑾𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵/𝑨𝑮𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑨 𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑵𝑮 𝑹𝑷 𝑮𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑷!

Westview. A small town that infamously became known as the hot spot for the Scarlet Witch's hex. Three years since Wanda's takeover and the town is finally recovering from the traumatic events. While the locals have their free will, Agatha has her identity back and Wanda managed to destroy the Darkhold, it seems like a higher power has other plans. People are suddenly waking up in a town that looks, sounds and smells like Westview, but something feels off. Westview locals are trying to deny it, it looks exactly like their home after all, so why wouldn't it be? Outsiders are waking up in beds that don't belong to them, in houses they don't own. Acting like squatters in fully furnished, but abandoned homes. The main issue for these people, however, is the lack of magical power. Witches, demons, entities, robots who are centuries old are now mortal. They are no more powerful than their human neighbours. While social media works, you can only gain access to those within the town. So since you're cut off from the rest of the internet, don't expect many views on your posts. Thinking of just leaving town? No matter what direction you take, you will always end up coming back to Westview. Even if you just walk in a straight line. There is no way out.

Westviewfm is a relaxed, 21+ small town roleplay on discord. Focusing on the aftermaths of both Wandavision and Agatha All Along. We have a combination of both canon and original characters, where muses suddenly wake up in a version of Westview that feels different to the original. Any magical being is now powerless and must try to figure out who has trapped them all there and how to gain their magic back. Some locals are in denial, believing that nothing is wrong, while others are starting to panic as they are unable to leave town. Currently the only roles taken are Agatha Harkness and Rio Vidal.

𝑱𝑶𝑰𝑵 𝑻𝑶𝑫𝑨𝒀!

https://discord.gg/BbBCqDCamS

#roleplay #rp #Wandavision rp #Agatha All Along rp

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roleplay-finder-search · 23 days ago

Note

𝑾𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵/𝑨𝑮𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑨 𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑵𝑮 𝑹𝑷 𝑮𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑷!

𝑱𝑶𝑰𝑵 𝑻𝑶𝑫𝑨𝒀!

https://discord.gg/BbBCqDCamS

🍀

#21+ rp #rpg #discord rpg #roleplay group #wandavision #agatha all along #ccs #ocs

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rphunter · 22 days ago

Note

𝑾𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵/𝑨𝑮𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑨 𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑵𝑮 𝑹𝑷 𝑮𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑷!

Westviewfm is a relaxed,21+ small town roleplay on discord. Focusing on the aftermaths of both Wandavision and Agatha All Along. We have a combination of both canon and original characters, where muses suddenly wake up in a version of Westview that feels different to the original. Any magical being is now powerless and must try to figure out who has trapped them all there and how to gain their magic back. Some locals are in denial, believing that nothing is wrong, while others are starting to panic as they are unable to leave town. Currently the only roles taken are Agatha Harkness and Rio Vidal.

𝑱𝑶𝑰𝑵 𝑻𝑶𝑫𝑨𝒀!

https://discord.gg/BbBCqDCamS

#group roleplay #group rp #wandavision roleplay #wandavision rp #agatha all along roleplay #agatha all along rp

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lowkeyerror · 2 years ago

Text

No Escape pt3

Dark!WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Stalking, Attempted suicide, kidnapping

Summary: Y/n learns she's trapped in Westview. Knowing this pushes her over the edge.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Similar to the last time Wanda invaded her dreams, Y/n began to pack up her belongings. If Wanda and Natasha were in the room with her unconscious body, they were too close.

Natasha had tasted her, had laid on top of her, and she was none the wiser. If it wasn't for Wanda telling her, she wouldn't have known. They were toying with her. Wanda and Natasha could've gotten her right there. She would have woken up with them standing over her, powerless.

She had to move quickly.

It didn't take long for her to put some clothes on and grab her things. As soon as she was ready, she left the motel.

For some reason, she was having trouble remembering how to leave the city. Usually she wasn't so forgetful, but today it had escaped her. She searched her bag for her map, yet she came up empty. Though it was frustrating, none of this mattered. Y/n still had to leave the town, whether she knew where she was going or not.

She picked a direction and started walking. If she walked long enough, she knew she'd hit the town's limit. She was right, eventually Y/n hit the town limits, but something was wrong. Something felt off.

Y/n tried to walk out of the town, but there was a barrier. She pushed and pushed, but it wouldn't budge. The image in front of her seemed to buzz.

Frustrations started to build up in her. She dropped her bag and ran at the barrier. She did it over and over again. Her body collided with the invisible wall each time. Her body hurt by the time she finally relented.

She slumped against the barrier, tears welling in her eyes.

" Fuck."

Y/n stared at what should've been her way out. She didn't let her tears fall. She set her jaw and grabbed her things.

The woman walked back to the motel. Agatha still sat at the helpers desks.

" Late night stroll, hun," the woman tried to engage in small talk.

Y/n smiled politely," Something like that. Hey Agatha, do you happen to know how to get to the next town over?"

She stared blankly at Y/n, " The next town over?"

" Yes, is there-"

" There's only Westview," she cut off Y/n. The far away look in her eye was off-putting.

" But my map-"

Agatha raised her voice," There is only Westview!" The harsh tone disappeared as soon as it arrived," It's the perfect little town. Who would want to leave?"

She followed it up with a laugh. This wasn't right, Y/n knew that much. She didn't stay with the laughing women, instead she went back to her room. Y/n sat on the bed with her head in her hands. This town wasn't what it seemed to be. It was a trap for Y/n.

The border stopped her exiting, the people weren't going to help, and she was cut off from the outside world. They finally trapped her. Now the tears fell. The frustration finally exited her body. What started out as a few stray tears turned into full on sobs. Her body shook violently, her throat became raw, snot fell from her nose.

She didn't know how long she cried for. It felt like an eternity. She felt small again. Y/n felt like the little, fragile girl that got her into this situation in the first place.

She marched to the restroom to stare at her reflection. Her eyes were bloodshot, staring back at her.

It didn't matter how strong she looked on the outside. The weakness was in her eyes. She could craft her body to mimic strength and resilience, but staring into her own eyes, she saw weakness.

It was as if she watched herself shrink back to the girl she used to be. There was no backbone in that girl. That girl needed Wanda and Natasha. She was lost without them.

" I hate that you make me feel this way. You like me like this, when I can hardly stand on my own two feet. All helpless and pitiful."

Y/n went back to the main room and dug through her bag. She got what she was looking for and returned to the bathroom. Her movements and breathing were erratic.

" Let me out, or I'll end it all right here. I know you can hear me. I know that you're watching. I'm not bluffing."

Y/n put the gun to the temple of her head," Let me out of here."

She cocked the weapon. Her reflection was mocking her, daring her to pull the trigger.

" I don't believe you, sweetheart."

Wanda was in the mirror. Natasha at her side. Wanda looked confident. Natasha looked like she was on edge. She was fidgeting, she knew that Y/n wasn't bluffing.

" I loved you, both of you, at one point. But I told you, I will never love you like this."

Her hand is steady, her face is straight. Y/n takes a breath and closes her eyes. Then she pulls the trigger.

" NO."

Wanda tries to stop Y/n. She reaches through the mirror and tries to push the gun away, but she is too slow.

Then Y/n opens her eyes. Her heart is beating like it never had. She looks at the gun and then at herself.

She took out the clip, there were no bullets. The gun slipped from her grasps. Before she can process what's happening, there's a pair of arms wrapping around her.

"Get off of me. Get off of me. Get off of me," she repeats it through her tears.

Y/n tries to push the person off of her, but the body won't budge.

" Just let me hold you, please. Just for a moment, dorogaya."

Y/n relents, and for a moment she allows herself to feel safe in Natasha's arms. The woman holds her as if she would disappear.

" It's not fair," Y/n viciously wipes her eyes," It's not fair that I want you to hold me after pushing me over the edge."

She pulls herself away from Natasha, only to stumble into Wanda’s frame. When Y/n catches Wanda’s eyes, she sees the trail of mascara trailing down her face.

" How could you do that?"

Her eyes began to glow that dangerous hue of red. Y/n takes a few steps away from her.

" Wanda," Natasha says, trying to calm the witch.

" Don't. Her brains would've been splattered all over the wall. She would lay dead here, if that gun was loaded," she pauses," She'd rather die than be with us."

" That's not true," Natasha shakes her head.

Y/n didn't want to be here. She wasn't supposed to be here. It was all supposed to be over. She couldn't keep running, but she'd rather die than be caught.

" Please, let me go," Y/n says amidst the tension.

" Why? So you can kill yourself? "

Natasha yells at her again," Wanda, stop it!"

" You aren't going anywhere."

The witch made it impossible for Y/n to move, just like in that first dream. Instead of strolling over to her, she appeared behind Y/n, wordlessly. Wanda began to use her magic to lull the young Stark to sleep.

" The chase was fun, bunny, but I'm not ever letting you leave me again."

Taglist: @bibliophilicbi @tigerlillyruiz @coollemonsaresour @captains-simp

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wanda x nat x reader #wandanat x reader #lowkey error halloween special

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sapphiccrypt · 4 years ago

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The Names You Call Me

Oh boy- I don’t have an Ao3 account so I guess I’m putting this here.

Ship: Wanda x Agatha (MCU) AU: Soulmate AU Word Count: 2578 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Agatha had been around for a while- of course she had. She was a witch from all the way back in the time of the Salem Witch Trials. However, in the roughly estimated 350 years she’d been alive (she’d lost count around the first World War), she hadn’t figured out who her soulmate was. Everyone had one, or at least, everyone was supposed to. Every little nickname or term of endearment your soulmate called you was supposed to be inked somewhere on your skin. However, she herself had been a blank canvas for centuries. It’s not like she minded, she was always more focused on acquiring more magical knowledge.

However, this didn’t stop the witch from giving little nicknames to everyone. It had become a habit over time. Was it so that she’d finally find her supposed soulmate one day? Or perhaps it was just to prove to herself that said soulmate didn’t exist and would never exist. Either way, this habit hadn’t shown any positive results, at least, that’s what she thought.

It was one of her habits that carried over into the nosy neighbor persona she had become forced to play.

------

Wanda’s parents always told them about soulmates, how those little names that appeared on your skin were supposed to be so meaningful and lovely. Oh how she wished that was the case. Of course, life always seemed to want to throw a curveball at her.

She was in her cabin in the vast wilderness when she had decided to shower. As she stepped out, her hair was intricately braided with magic. She had decided to check said braid in the mirror when she noticed something that made her heart sink.

Written in small lettering along her lower back were different words. Wanda knew what this meant, of course she did. Everyone was told about soulmates. There were so many rom coms and tv shows about it. Hell- in the show she’d weaved together from the town of Westview, she’d finally been able to make Vision and herself soulmates. However, the few nicknames the deceased synthezoid had called her in the past weren’t written there.

Instead, there were ones like “buttercup,” “hon,” and “toots,” among a few others. In the back of her mind, she knew where those nicknames came from- who those nicknames came from. She stared at the writing for a while. Why her of all people? The one that betrayed her and tried to take her magic? Why couldn’t it have been Vision, or anyone else for that matter? Why did it have to be Agatha?

The mirror shatters.

------

Agatha didn’t know how long she was trapped in the lonely and painstakingly quiet void of own mind. Mere minutes could feel like years just for the next hour to pass like milliseconds. Feeling and watching herself do and say things, think things, without it really being her was a fate worse than death. No matter how hard she would scream, no one could hear her there.

Agnes, meanwhile, was brewing herself a morning cup of coffee. She had always been a coffee person, for as long as she could remember, just like she had always been living in the quiet town of Westview. Of course, she found her hobbies. Along with being the neighborhood gossip, she would tend to her garden and watch fun movies. It was a simple life, and she liked it, despite the part of herself buried deep within the far corners of her mind that told her this wasn’t what she should be doing.

As the housewife was pouring her coffee into one of her many ornate mugs, a knock at the door echoed above the noise of the television and her own humming. She almost spilled her coffee but set the pot aside on the counter. “I’ll be there in just a moment!” Agnes called as she speed-walked over to the door and opened it to see her former neighbor.

“Wanda! What a pleasant surprise,” Agnes began with the same neighborly smile she always put on. The one that seemed so permanent that her cheeks would often hurt after a while. “And here I thought you had forgotten about little ol’ Agnes,” she teased, stepping out of the doorway so the other could enter. “Please, come on in.”

Wanda would nod, smiling calmly over at the other. “It’s nice to see you again, Agnes,” she’d comment as she looked around the neatly decorated house. The whole place had a sickeningly sweet atmosphere, as to be expected of the role she had put upon the other. She sat down on the couch Agnes guided her over to, looking over at the sitcom playing on the television. She had been meaning to watch that one.

“Would you like anything to drink? Coffee, tea, something a little more...adult?” Agnes asked with a mischievous smirk as she moved into the kitchen. “Take your pic, pumpkin.”

She looked down as the other called her a new nickname, knowing it was probably added to the list of words that were written on her back. “Tea is fine, thanks,” the Sokovian woman commented, quietly resting her hands in her lap as she prepared for what was to come. Hopefully the runes she’d placed on the house and Agatha herself would stop her from attacking or playing with her mind again.

Agnes rambled on about life in Westview and tidbits of gossip she’d picked up on since the other had left the small New Jersey town. Soon enough, the shrill noise of the teapot pierced the air and she prepared the other’s drink, walking in with both mugs after reheating her own coffee.

Wanda talked with Agnes for a few minutes, thanking her for the tea and sipping it as they chatted and watched the television program. When the other set her mug down on the coffee table, the younger witch moved a glowing red hand to the other’s temple, bringing back the witch that she had previously locked away.

Agatha’s eyes widened and she gasped as all her senses came back to her and she was in her own mind again. She looked over at Wanda, stumbling away from the other on the couch some before her gaze narrowed. “What do you want?” She asked. She knew deep down she couldn’t really do much besides listen to the other, as she couldn’t feel the usual buzz of magic underneath her skin.

“Well it’s nice to see you too, Agatha.” Wanda said, still keeping a calm demeanor about her as she looked over at the other. “I had to come by and see how my nosy neighbor was doing.”

The older of the two grumbled as she got up, blue eyes gazing at the other and desperately trying to figure out her motives. “You and I both know that isn’t the reason, Red.” Agatha commented. At least she was herself again, although being powerless like this was still worse than death, in her opinion.

Wanda sighed. What was with this woman and all her nicknames? She was sure her back was soon to be covered in words. “I just want to talk,” she paused, considering her next words. “Ags.” She noticed the hint of some marking on the other’s left arm, although it was mainly covered by her sleeve.

Agatha looked a bit surprised at the nickname before glaring once more. “What do you want to talk about.” She muttered, sitting down at a chair adjacent to the other. She didn’t really want to talk, but she didn’t quite want to be Agnes again either.

“Well- I have two things. First, a sort of proposal of sorts,” Wanda replied. “You said I would need you, so this is a time to make yourself needed. Teach me the secrets of the Darkhold, I know you know it well.” Some of the spells in the book were quite confusing, and at times the book itself seemed like it didn’t want to be read, and surely giving this incentive would give her the insight she needed on the book.

“The second...” she began again, “....is this,” Wanda said as red magic rolled up the left sleeve of the other’s shirt, causing Agatha to tense some. “Take a look for yourself.”

The brunette’s gaze settled on her arm, eyes widening as she read out the small, 3 letter nickname the other had just called her. She opened her mouth to speak for a moment before promptly closing it right afterwards. She was silent for what seemed like eternity before she let out a low chuckle.

“You must be covered then, huh, dearie?”

------

Months passed as the two resided in Wanda’s cabin. The Scarlet Witch’s training was going alright- save for a few clearings in the forest that definitely weren’t there before. Overtime, arguments and harsh words turned to cheeky and sarcastic remarks. Neither of them brought up the soulmate thing too much, as if the situation was a creature one would be advised not to poke with a stick. This didn’t stop Agatha from coming up with new nicknames just to add to the collection and tick off Wanda, however. Meanwhile her own arm was mostly bare save for a few names she was called when the other wanted to try at the game that the older witch was playing.

It was late morning, Wanda was usually the first to wake up, whether it was from her just being an early riser or nightmares she got frequently was up for debate. She prepared a small meal, just some bacon and eggs, making her some tea. Agatha often made her own coffee, through normal or magical needs.

She had decided after a couple weeks to let Agatha use her magic, as trust had grown between the two and it was easier for the magic lessons to have someone who could actually use magic. Agatha hadn’t attacked or anything, she seemed to know it wouldn’t end well. Plus, through the passing months, both women were beginning to take a liking to one another, whether they wanted to admit it or not.

Agatha came down from her room a few minutes after Wanda had sat down for breakfast, pushing messy brunette hair out of her face so her vision wasn’t obscured. She grabbed a mug, magically making herself some coffee before getting a portion of breakfast and sitting down across from Wanda at the small wooden dining table.

“Good morning.” Wanda commented with a soft smile. Although part of herself hated to say it, she really enjoyed Agatha’s company. She had grown to enjoy the little nicknames, the teasing remarks, the way her laugh made her feel like her heart was made of butterflies. Disregard that last part.

Agatha nodded, sipping her coffee. “Morning.” She said, taking a few bites of breakfast that the other had prepared. “This is good, buttercup.” She smirked some at the other before sipping her coffee. “Ready for today’s practice?”

Wanda looked up from her cup of tea and over at who had become her mentor. “Of course.” She responded. Her control over her magic had been getting better, and she’d been learning all sorts of spells and runes from the other witch.

After breakfast, the two women got changed and went out into the forest, into one of the clearings that had been there before the two had started using the area for magic practices. This spot was quite peaceful, and the two spent many hours reading through the Darkhold, along with other books of magic that Agatha had acquired over the centuries of her life.

Practice went as normal, going over a few new runes and such, like one Agatha had used to block out her mind from the other’s telepathy in Westview. It was a difficult rune but Wanda had proved to be a quick and skilled learner. After a couple more runes, Agatha would switch over to spells.

Wanda didn’t like to admit that elemental magic was really frustrating. How was chaos and creation easier than controlling water? The two had moved to a nearby creek for this spell. Agatha instructed how to control the water but each try ended in one or both of them getting splashed.

Agatha had an idea and moved closer to Wanda. “Here.” She began, standing behind her and placing her hands on her wrists, ignoring the quickened beating of her heart. Yeah, she was falling for the other, who also happened to be her soulmate, so be it. She’d deal with that “problem” later. “You have to follow the flow of the water with your body, be fluid in your movements and calm in your emotions.”

It was hard to be calm when Agatha was against her like this and her cheeks were tinted the same color of her magic, but Wanda was determined to get this seemingly simple spell down. She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths as she tried to cast the spell, moving in tandem with her mentor. Things seemed to be going quite well, opening one eye to see the water moving with them.

Until she fell, of course.

She had heard a rustling in the bushes and her concentration broke and caused her to stumble and fall forward, Agatha falling along with her into the cold shallow water. A deer ran out of their view. Wanda began to apologize before the other let out what was probably the most genuine laugh she’d ever heard, causing her already pounding heart to skip a few beats. She found herself laughing along.

Agatha stood up, helping the other to her feet as well. “Well that’s a way to become one with the water,” she teased, smiling at Wanda. “If I wasn’t already awake, I definitely am now.” She added before smirking and splashing the other.

“Hey!” The younger witch exclaimed as the cold water made her shiver, although the smile she had on never left her lips. “No fair,” she added before splashing the other in return.

Agatha chuckled before reaching over to move some wet hair out of the other’s face. Her hand lingered on her cheek for a moment as their eyes met before she quickly looked away, going to climb out of the creek before a hand grabbed hers, and she looked back at Wanda. “What is it, darling?” She asked.

Wanda ignored how much the nickname made her face heat up. She hadn’t really been thinking as she grabbed the other’s hand, and she ended up staring into the other’s eyes for longer than most normal friends would. Her heart kept beating and she felt like if she didn’t say something to break the tension would be infinite.

“I think I’m falling for you.”

Ok- anything but that.

The older witch was the one blushing now, before chuckling softly as their fingers intertwined. “And here I thought you couldn’t stand me.” She teased, smiling at the other as they moved closer to one another.

It doesn’t matter who ended up kissing who, what matters is that it happened, and neither seemed to want to pull away.

When they finally did so, Wanda found herself leaning into Agatha’s touch as the other woman caressed her cheek, and she entangled one of her hands into the other’s unruly dark hair.

“I don’t think I mind being your soulmate, Aggie.”

Another mark appeared on Agatha’s arm, and they both leaned in for another kiss

#harkximoff #wanda x agatha #wandagatha #agatha x wanda #witch wives #one shot #fanfic #marvel #mcu #soulmate au #agatha harkness #wanda maximoff #this is my first fic here and im kinda nervous but y'all wanted it so here it is

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diaryofabeautyfiend · 4 years ago

Text

Small Time Witch (16)

You had your phone on silent the entire time you were shopping. Once you realized you checked your notifications. You had a text and missed call from Steve a voicemail from your therapist and a text from Tony. You called Steve back. His message seemed to be the most urgent.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Where are you?” He sounded upset.

“In the city shopping. Why? What’s going on?”

“Did you see your doctor today?” Snitch.

“No. Look I know what you are going to say. I think I really have a handle on everything, Steve. I don’t want to see Dr. Calloway anymore.”

“Good. No, baby, that’s good. Don’t take anymore of those pills. Come back to the compound as soon as possible. We need to talk.”

“Steve you are scaring me.”

“Everything is fine, doll. Come on home.” You drove as fast as the law allowed. Steve met you outside of the gate. He stopped you before you could pull in and jumped in the passenger seat. Wanda and Sam got in the back and Bucky followed on the bike. “Just drive.” He pulled the radio out of your dash and told you to kill the navigation.

“We need to get somewhere out of SHIELD and Tony’s reach.” You bit your lip knowing exactly where to go. You started driving towards the freeway to head north.

“I have a place but you have to promise not to lose your shit when we get there. Promise me, Steve.” You tapped your fingers on the wheel and chewed your lip raw.

“I promise. Want to tell me what I’m walking in to?”

“Uh. My house. Not the one that was burned down. The new one.”

“When did you buy a house?” You were silent and started to tear up a little.

“Heimdall! I know you can hear me. Tell Thor to meet us at our house.” You wouldn’t look at Steve. You could feel his anger building. “You promised, Steve.”

“Baby, when you said ‘our house’ what did you mean?” He was gripping the arm rest so tight he almost snapped it off. He knew the answer to the question. He just wanted to hear you say it. You didn’t answer. You were concentrating on keeping the mood from escalating in the car. You were scared and it would be really easy to lose control at this moment. “Y/N I need you to answer me.”

“Loki built a house on the land that my family owns. He may or may not be living there. I don’t know because I haven’t talked to him in almost a year.” You put your hand on his arm and he pulled away.

“Nope. You don’t get to tell me how to feel right now, Y/N. I thought when you took that bracelet off he was out of your life. Out of our lives. That was a big deal for me.”

“It was a big deal for me too. I only found out about the house a couple of months ago. It’s a gift.”

“That’s a pretty big fucking gift. I can’t fucking believe you right now.” The rest of the ride was silent. Sam and Wanda looked out the window. The only sound you heard was the growl of Steve’s bike behind you.

The road went from paved to gravel to forest floor. You traveled far off the main drive. You arrived at the glen that was hidden in the shadows of a the mountains save for the beam of sunshine that shone down like a spotlight. There was a patch of grass that was singed where Thor likely landed.

You were trying so hard to hide your emotions but it was so beautiful. You took a deep breath getting a nose full of the mimosa that was now in full bloom. Wanda held your hand. “It’s stunning. I can’t believe he did all of this.”

The five of you walked into the gate. Loki was waiting in the doorway. “This is not exactly how I envisioned you seeing the place.”

“Thought she’d be alone?” Steve said blowing past him.

“Nice to see you too, Captain Rogers.”

“Don’t. Please” you begged. “Steve, honey. Can we have a seat and talk about why we’re here?” You gathered in the kitchen so Steve could explain. He confessed to knowing about the medication but not exactly what it was. He said he knew that Dr. Calloway worked for Fury and that the operation in Alaska was a rescue mission. He still hadn’t figured out the rest.

“I promise you I had no idea what that medication was not until I spoke to Agatha and Professor Xavier. Tony does and that’s why we’re here.”

“Steve, you should have come to me. The good news is I know what Aconite is. It’s been used for centuries as a poison and, in some varieties to help with anxiety. It slows the heart rate. Luckily I know an antidote. Plus I minored in chemistry and I’ve been working with Stephen Strange a literal medical doctor who helped me compound a quick dissolving tablet to neutralize the Aconite.”

“I’m sorry. I thought I was protecting you. I should have talked to you. I would never willingly hurt you. Do you understand that?” He hugged you tight and kissed you. You nodded your head and hugged him back but you were still hurt.

Loki beamed with pride. You were always one step ahead of these idiots. What a clever little witch. It irritated him to his core that you met Steve with understanding and compassion rather than blind rage when he lied to you. You were clouded by your feelings for him.

“So what’s the plan, Cap? Do we go on this mission?” Sam asked. While they discussed a plan and you excused yourself to explore. Every detail was as you imagined right down to the door knobs and drawer pulls. Loki left a clone of himself in the kitchen so he could join you.

“What do you think? Did I get it right?” he whispered. You slipped your hand in his and squeezed.

“It’s perfect. Thank you, Loki. I love it so much here. I’m sorry I’m seeing it this way.” He didn’t let go of your hand right away.

“I’m just glad you’re here. I do admit I thought it would be just the two of us. But, there’s plenty of room. I’d better get back.” He pressed his lips hard to the back of your hand. You heard Steve calling from the kitchen.

“We’re going to stay the night here and go back to the compound in the morning. Until we figure all of this out you stay and we’ll come back to get you. I trust you’re safe here.” Steve explained. You went back to the bedroom to try to get some rest. Loki took the couch. He grabbed some blankets from the linen closet and winked at you as he went down the hall.

“Baby, I’m gonna check on everyone to make sure they’re set for the night. Why don’t you go take a bath? I’ll be back in a sec.” Steve checked on Bucky and Sam who were sharing a room. The bed was large enough for the two of them to fit comfortably. Wanda was already in bed so was Thor. Loki was sitting up on the couch reading.

“Can I talk to you?” Steve asked. Loki looked around to see who else was in the room. He gestured towards the big chair across from him. Steve sat down and stared around the room trying to collect his thoughts. Everywhere he looked he saw you. Everything was soft and inviting. There was a spice to the air warm and aromatic. He wanted to curl up in this place. Get lost in here. This wasn’t his place though. Loki built it with the intention of living out your days here. There were flashes of him too. No. There was no place here for Steve.

“Can I trust you with her?” His voice was low and gritty like it was worked over with sandpaper.

“You know she’s safe with me.”

“You know that’s not what I’m asking. Can I trust you to keep your hands off of her?”

“I won’t touch her. You have my word.”

“Your word. That’s cute. You see here I was thinking you were gone. Out of our lives. It took her six months to take that damned bracelet off which means it took her six months to get over you. And here you are back in our lives again. What possessed you to build this house?” he put his hand up to stop him, “No. Don’t tell me. I already know. It’s the same reason I went out to Westchester today. The same reason I’m ready to go ape shit on Tony fucking Stark and all of SHIELD. Because you are in love with her just like I’m in love with her. The difference is she chose me. She chose to have me in her life. You just keep showing up.” Steve buried his face in his hands. He wasn’t sure if he was coming or going.

Loki was deep in thought dissecting what Steve said but also trying to figure out Tony’s play. “I’m trying to understand what binding her will do. It won’t change the fact that she’s a conduit. It will only leave her defenseless. Unless that’s what they are trying to do.” Loki’s eyes were wide thinking of the possibility that you would be able to absorb all of the powers of the people Hydra kidnapped. You’d be a nuclear bomb indeed. That’s only if you were powerless to stop it. As it were, you cast a spell on yourself that had a fail safe built in. If you kept training with Strange and Wong, you would be able to stop the lot of them. “Captain. That’s it. They are using her to steal powers. What is in Alaska?”

“Fuck. That’s it. Fuck! Alaska is a giant Hydra base housing mutants. I’m leaving Wanda with you. I’ll call Stephen Strange in the morning. Don’t tell her anything. She’ll want to confront Tony. I won’t let her. I can’t let Tony know she hasn’t been taking her meds.” Loki nodded in agreement.

Steve stood up to go to bed. He was bone tired. All he wanted was to crawl into your bed and wrap his body around yours like a cocoon.

“Steve,” Loki called after him. Steve stopped in the doorway his shoulders slumped down in defeat. “I’ll keep her safe for you. When all of this is over, the place yours. Just promise me you’ll let her be herself out here. She hides a lot from you because she’s afraid she’ll scare you if you really saw her. You really love her? Get to know the real Y/N.” Steve responded with a weak smile.

The master bedroom was painted a deep green and had warm wood trim. A large vanity was situated in the corner with perfume bottles a comb and a brush neatly arranged on top. A massive four poster bed was dead center. The posts were ornate and winding like a tree the legs like roots. The Yggdrasil tree. A big round window sat high on the wall letting the moonlight stream in. He could smell the oils you used in the tub. Warm spice notes and deep florals. That’s what your skin would smell like. He wanted to burn it into his nose.

Off in the corner there was a small winding staircase that lead to a loft. He climbed it to find a reading nook with a small table for snacks. He smiled thinking about how much you would love it up there.

On the other side of the room was a wardrobe. Inside there were dresses that you’d no doubt wear barefoot and blouses and trousers for you to wear to work. Off to the side were three little drawers. The top was for bras the middle for panties and the bottom larger drawer for sweats leggings socks and T-shirts. The bottom was neatly lined with heels strappy sandals and a pair of boots that made his cock twitch. He imagined you wearing them with the leather dress that would barely cover your thighs.

In the chest of drawers there were sweaters jeans that looked worn in and a whole drawer for tac gear in case you went on missions with them. This fucker thought of everything.

He wanted to go out there and punch him in his smug little face but stopped when he heard you sloshing around in the water. He cracked the door open so he wouldn’t startle you. “Sweetheart? Can I come in?”

“Hey. Yeah. There is plenty of room for you.” Steve stripped and eased in to the too hot water. You grabbed the big sponge hanging over the faucet and got it sudsy enough to wash him. He let you though he felt like it was somehow wrong. Like he shouldn’t be this intimate with you in another man’s home.

The bathroom was just as glamorous as the bedroom. A small gas fireplace sat perfectly positioned to warm the whole bathroom. A chandelier hung from the ceiling. The shower was also large enough for two people. There were so many spouts it looked like a car wash. There were candles placed on every and any flat surface. The place was fit for a queen. Loki’s queen.

Funnily enough you didn’t seem to care. You rinsed off the soap and kissed your way up to his neck. You used a small pitcher set on a step stool to wet his hair. When you massaged his scalp you kissed him deeply. “Close your eyes and hold your breath” you said in that low tone that made him crazy.

He shook off like a dog making you giggle. His favorite sound. He lifted you enough to sink you down onto him. He will never get enough of how you felt. The water lapped around your body as you moved. You both came quick and hard collapsing your body down around him. “I love you, Steve” you whispered as you caught your breath.

“I love you, Y/N. So much.”

You got out of the tub feeling like your limbs were made of jelly. You dried off braided your hair and slicked your skin with more oil. The one you chose was warm and slightly citrusy. Vetiver. It made your heartbeat quicken knowing that Loki remembered your mother’s fragrance. The two of you crawled into bed and slept like you’ve been sleeping in this room for ages. You weren’t sure if it was being back on your land or something else but you felt like you were finally home.

#steve rogers fanfic #captain america x reader #marvel witches #mcu x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #marvel #steve rogers x reader #captain america smut

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devourer--of--books · 4 years ago

Text

Something obvious I noticed about Agatha

Context:

I’m doing a small side-collection of my favorite scenes from WSF that I had to cut off, because just editing them out was making me sad. The first one of those (which should be up soon on AO3, under the name of ‘every memory of the sweet sunshine’) is a scene in which I have Sophie doing a bit of introspection on Agatha’s so-called ‘goodness’.

I cut off the scene for the sake of length (why, why do I always write stuff no asked for, no cares why Agatha has no car in WSF, literally no one asked) and because I didn’t want to mess with Sophie and Agatha’s arc in the fic by making her too self-aware or highlight her opinion on Agatha’s compulsive need to help other people too explicitly just yet.

But then, it occurs to me that Agatha’s behavior is not something exclusive from my fic. In fact, is something that is classical Agatha, noticeble during the entire book 1, TLEA, and even a during QFG (I’m sure it comes up during AWWP too, but I haven't picked that one up in years so I can’t speak for it). It’s a vital part of her character and I think we all know this, but it still made me kinda sad once I started to think about it.

Agatha has low-key (high-key) savior complex

So, I am not a phycologist. I don’t claim to be one either. But I’ve been doing some reading and my google skills pointed towards white knight syndrome? I’m linking the main sources I used bellow).

Hear me out,

- Let’s start with book 1 and Sophie, because I feel like that is the basis of this analysis.

- During most of book 1, we get many reasons as to why Agatha feels the need to go home. She has good reasons, Agatha knows the school is dangerous. Naturally you’d wanna go home, back to safety and bring your only friend (we’ll talk about this in a minute) with you, so they’d be safe too, right? Nothing wrong here.

- But one of the most frequent criticisms of book1!Agatha is that she is very persistent in getting Sophie to go back home with her. Very, with like, major V. Numerous times we see Sophie brush off Agatha’s attempts to help her (in Agatha’s point of view, helping her is getting her home), and it just frustrates her and makes her try harder, despite Sophie’s clear wishes for her to just leave it alone.

- When you read this, didn’t it make you feel tired for Agatha? Burnout and angry at Sophie for not listening to her friend who clearly has her best interests in mind?

- I don’t think we need to highlight every instance in which Sophie was an absolutely horrible friend and trash person to Agatha in book 1, and she just… Took that shit, because ‘they were friends’ and continued to help her (including helping her get with Tedros in service of saving her) because she’s good and the good forgive everything?

- Because good believes no one, not even Sophie, 100% evil, is beyond redemption? Because that’s how normal friendship works? I mean, sounds fake, but okay.

- Agatha literally almost dies a couple of times when Sophie goes psycho-witch on her, but we still see her feel like she needs to save Sophie. Notice that I say needs, and not only wants.

- If you don’t think Agatha and Sophie had a toxic codependent friendship during most of TSY, I don’t think we read the same books?? Their codepency tends to be a major plot point in all books??

- Very rarely do we see dynamics in which one person is 100% toxic by herself. This one is no exception. It’s easy to point out Sophie’s selfish narcissistic (borderline sociopathic) behavior as toxic, because it’s so loud and in our faces, but I don’t think we talk about how Agatha contributes to this dynamic as often as we should.

- We joke about how Agatha lets Sophie get away with everything. How annoying it can be. But why does she let Sophie get away with everything? Why does she enable Sophie’s behavior (through positive reinforcement)? Especially if the goal is to help Sophie, shouldn’t she be more incisive in ‘teaching’ Sophie that her actions have consequences?

- I mostly attributed this to Agatha’s cripplingly low self-esteem. But now that I thought a bit more, I think it’s a bit more than that. Agatha’s endless empathy for Sophie is part of why their friendship ‘works’. But for something to ‘work’, it goes both ways. We know what Sophie gets out of their dynamic: she gets to be chaotic, have Agatha clean up after her and access to bottom-less empathy and love from her. What does Agatha get?

- Mostly, Agatha gets a semi-good-ish friend. Which she thinks is the type of friendship she deserves. But she also gets to serve a purpose. Her life’s work is to save Sophie, solve Sophie’s problems. In fact we don’t see Agatha try to solve any of her own problems until Sophie pushes her away. I think Agatha needs to help Sophie because she envisions Sophie as her one redeeming quality, and linked her own self-worth to how well she can take care of her friend.

- Which is why she always feels so anxious and exhausted all the time. Agatha sacrifices her own well-being in favor of saving Sophie from the consequences of her own actions, even after Sophie tells her not to, because she believes it’s her job. If she’s not saving Sophie, than why is she here at all?

- What Agatha gets out of their dynamic is the emotional high of playing savior. She gets to be in control of something. She feels powerless and frustrated at her own issues, so she has the compulsive need to ‘fix’ others (in this case, Sophie, because Sophie is her only friend).

- Think of how Agatha tells Sophie the reason why she always let her in is because Sophie looks lonely. I don’t think this is entirely true, but there’s some truth to it. Sophie is the ‘perfect fit’ for Agatha because they’re both lonely and vulnerable. Sophie needs a getaway car from her own chaos (instead of facing it head on) and Agatha needs a purpose bigger than herself so she can feel complete.

- This is also partly why I believe she got so defensive and furious when Tedros accuses her of ‘not being able to make Sophie feel loved like he does’. Saving Sophie is a fundamental part of how Agatha defines herself so when he says this, it cuts her deeply.

- Because being Sophie’s friend and savior is directly tied to her own sense of who she is.

- Now, lets move on to how Tedros fits in this, by observing exemples during TLEA and QFG, as well as the end of book 1.

- As soon as Tedros becomes important to Agatha, we see a shift in her behavior. She now needs to protect him. But their dynamic differs from the one between Sophie and Agatha because Tedros not only rejects her help; instead, he wants to be her white knight.

- It confuses Agatha, because so far, being a savior was just her modus operandi and not at all mutual. I think there’s a line in AWWP (I know there’s a comic, so I’m not sure if it’s from that book, but I think it is, if it isn’t ignore this point) where Tedros asks Agatha what she saw in him, and she says something along the lines of him needing someone to protect him the way he protected the people he cared about.

- Tedros’ unconcious wish for someone to take care of him is what draws Agatha in, much like Sophie’s. But Tedros wants a mutual relationship, where Sophie was pretty much one-sided most the time.

- Which is why I think Agatha and Tedros clash so much, but at the same time, why they make a good pair. They’re two idiots trying to save each other. And their relationship’s life work is to figure out how to listen to what the other actually needs, not what they think the other needs. Communication is key, as usual.

- Numerous times in TLEA we hear Tedros complaining that Agatha doesn’t know how to play ‘the princess’, how she bosses him around and treats him like he’s an idiot. That, I believe, is because that is the only way she knows how to express her love: she tries to fix as many of his problems as she can, ignoring what he wants.

- She tells him she has no idea how to be anything else. Because this is all she has ever known. She saves people, they don’t save her. But Tedros wants to save her anyway. So, conflict is created.

- During part two of TLEA, we see perhaps the best example of how Agatha applies this savior narrative to benefit herself.

- When we fall back into an old habit, we don’t usually do it because it feels good. We do it because it feels familiar. And there is comfort in familiarity, especially in familiar pain.

- Agatha is having problems with communicating with Tedros, with sorting out their dynamic and with who she thinks she’s supposed to be without Sophie. So when Sophie crashes in and asks Agatha to give him up in order to fix her problems as well as the entire Woods, Agatha jumps at the chance to play the martyr, because that way she doesn’t have to fix her own problems. Like a get-out-of-jail-free card.

- Pretty sure there’s even a quote from Sophie in TLEA where she points out she could never play Good’s savior. It’s implicit that she thinks this role has always been Agatha’s. It’s what Agatha herself thinks.

- As soon as Tedros is out of the picture, we see Sophie and Agatha’s friendship restored to their codepency glory (that scene where they’re riding and the frog and scorpion analogy, was it a frog, I can’t remember, but you know the one I’m talking about). But somewhere in her mind, Agatha knows this isn’t how it’s supposed to be, because of what Tedros has showed her, and not only Tedros, but also Hester.

- I’ll save Agatha and Hester’s relationship for another dive, as this is already very long, but yeah, not toxic at all, just friends being actual good friends. In fact, most of the time Hester is the one saving Agatha. We’ll see to this later. Anyway, back to my ranting.

- Then we have the wish-fish scene, in my opinion the best Hort-scene in all the books. Hort goes ahead and calls Agatha out on her shit. Shit that she wasn’t even completely conscious she was doing (someone get these kids a therapist omg).

- We get to see tagatha make up, working out their communication issues (!!!!). “You catch me and I catch you” it’s literally the realization that Agatha finally can trust someone enough to ask for help when she needs it and that she can trust him to come to her if he needs her help. That she has finally understood that it’s not her job to save everyone and only Sophie can save herself.

- Why, why did it not end here.

- I’m gonna spare you the QFG bashing (see my other post for that content, lol), but that book did Agatha dirty. I liked that they didn’t erase her progress with Sophie, how they learned to be better friends for each other, but wtf tagatha

- This is an entire book of Agatha feeling like she needs to save Tedros all over again. There’s even an introspective moment in which she explicitly says that in the end of the day, she trusts no one but herself (why, why did you undo the ending of TLEA, why) that breaks my heart.

- Tedros pushing her away, her going behind his back, the internal dialogue Agatha has with herself… Look, I love chapter 6. Chapter 6? Great content. Tedros belatedly noticing he needs to let Agatha in (six months bitch I just-) and asking for her help. Agatha’s savior complex comes full force and she convinces Tedros to let her fix everything. Tedros ends up allowing her to do so because he is desperate. Lots of kissing and touching. My favorite chapter of QFG.

- But since the follow-up is basically Agatha noticing what she’s doing and doing it anyway (contrary to TLEA, in which as soon as she could no longer deny what she was doing she gets her shit together) it just feels like she’s regressing? Her self-worth is no longer tied to saving Sophie from herself after 3 books, only for it to be tied to saving Tedros?

- Anyway, thank you for attending my TEDtalk.

Sources:

https://amenteemaravilhosa.com.br/complexo-de-salvador/

https://www.healthline.com/health/savior-complex#how-it-affects-you

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/complexo-de-salvador-como-ele-pode-impactar-sua-vida-pessoal

https://www.healthline.com/health/mental-health/sociopath

https://www.healthline.com/health/how-to-stop-being-codependent

#school for good and evil #the school for good and evil #sge #the last ever after #quests for glory #Agatha of Woods Beyond #Sophie of Woods Beyond #tedros of camelot #Tagatha

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lynelovespopculture · 5 years ago

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The Chilling Adventures of Zelda Chapter 5-ROAD TO RECOVERY PLEASE REMEMBER TO COMMENT!

CHAPTER 5-THE ROAD TO RECOVERY

WARNING: Talk of suicide

Zelda couldn’t sleep. She sighed as she turned to look at the clock, 2:45 AM. Zelda looked upper still to Hilda 3 feet away, lightly snoring. Zelda removed her blankets and put her feet into her slippers. She exited the bedroom before conjuring a little ball of light to accompany her down the dark hallway. It had been 2 and a half weeks since Zelda’s husband had been separated from his insanity curse and things were not going all that well. The plan had been to free Faustus and then kill the curse and they had tried their best. Zelda had been literally in hell as Prudence tried to stab it and Hilda came from behind with a heavy rock. However, the stab wound made no difference and the rock that broke in 2. It fell to Zelda to tell her family that the curse bore the mark of Cain, which made it immortal. Somehow, the curse got away. So, Blackwood, (to help avoid confusion, the family decided to call the curse Blackwood and the real man Faustus,) was on the run again but not for long. A week later, when all the coven was in the church to hear mass, a bloody Dorcas stormed in to tearfully inform the others that Blackwood stormed the nearly empty academy. Dorcas tried hard but Blackwood did manage to reclaim the twins before disappearing again. Poor Dorcas blamed herself, but Zelda tried her best to comfort the distraught girl. Secretly, Zelda herself wanted to cry. How could they lose the twins yet again, after a mere 8 days! Late at night on all 7 nights, Zelda would take care not to be caught as she sneaked into where the twins slept. She would tuck them in if needed, kiss them and just stay with them for a while. Wondering how Judas and Letitia, she knew the girl twin was calling herself Judith, but she would always be Letitia to Zelda, could possibly be teenagers, when their 1st birthday was still weeks away. Agatha, who was already pretty hostile, grew even more violent and wild when she learned that Blackwood came to get the twins but not her. Knowing that Agatha was a danger not only to herself but to the other students and teachers, Zelda made the decision to put Agatha in the dungeon, for now.

“I’m really sorry girls,” Zelda told the other weird sisters about her decision. “I wish there was another way, but I need to put the safety of the coven first, plus if Blackwood comes back for her, it won’t be so easy.”

“We understand, Sister Zelda.” Prudence soothed.

Dorcas nodded. “Agatha’s in good hands. We trust you, Mistress Spellman.”

Zelda smiled, she needed to hear that right now.

Zelda briefly considered getting in touch with their mysterious new ally, Gloria Rose but the idea was quickly dismissed for 2 reasons. First, Zelda had no idea where Gloria lived or how to get in touch with her and had a funny feeling that Gloria wouldn’t pop up again it was time for Lilith’s next appointment. Also, was the fact that Gloria had betrayed Blackwood by giving him to the Spellmans so it was unlikely Blackwood would go back to her.

The cold hallway gave Zelda a chill, sending her back to the present. Zelda went to the end of the hall and opened the linen closet, grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around herself. In addition to worrying about Blackwood, the twins, and Agatha, Zelda was extremely concerned about Faustus, only in a completely different way. Agatha’s behavior was violent and dangerous. Faustus was a danger to no one but himself. Zelda was with her husband when he asked the dark lord to put him under house arrest and stripped him of all his magical powers. Boy, Faustus was not kidding. He asked for house arrest but it was more like room arrest. Shortly after returning from hell, Faustus went down to the morgue and stayed there for 2 and a half weeks. The morgue was the lowest, coldest room in the Spellman house. Zelda suspected if Faustus could go lower, he would. He also absolutely wouldn’t hear of going near the church or school.

“I am no longer a high priest,” he said when Sabrina addressed as Father Blackwood, “nor should I be. I betrayed a sacred trust when I poisoned the entire coven.” His head turned as his eyes grew misty.

Faustus also insisted on being punished. He even asked Ambrose to chain him up. Zelda quickly overruled that request. There was no self-torture Faustus wouldn’t inflict on himself. One day, he found a rope that he used as a whip. By the time someone found him, his back was red, bruised and bleeding. He wouldn’t allow anyone to heal him but a sneaky Zelda did it while he was asleep. Zelda feared she wouldn’t be attracted to a powerless Faustus but she was wrong. I love him, she thought. I truly love him, more and more each day. People made sure that trays of Hilda’s famous cooking was brought down to him at least 3 times a day, but Faustus barely touched any of it. Zelda spent hours and hours with him, begging him to eat, if only for her. It kind of reminded Zelda when she and Hilda would do a good cop/bad cop routine when a 4-year-old Sabrina refused to eat her peas. On the days that were really bad, Zelda would take her own dinner to the morgue and refused to eat until Faustus did. Of course, her pregnancy and the fact that the baby needed to be fed, was her ace in the hole and soon found Faustus cleaning his plate.

Zelda dismissed the ball of light as she went down the spiral steps to the morgue. There was a full moon tonight and its light filled the room. Zelda sighed as she saw Faustus was, yet again, not sleeping in the cot that had been prepared for him but instead, sitting against the wall, wearing only his pants, trying to keep himself from nodding off. Why? Because sleep deprivation was a form of torture too.

“It’s like he’s broken, Aunt Hilda.” Zelda overheard Ambrose said one morning. Zelda said nothing as she entered the room but she knew whatever was ‘broken’ in Faustus, could be fixed.

“What are you doing here?” Faustus asked when he finally noticed Zelda standing on the last stair. “It’s late. You should be asleep.”

“So should you.” She returned firmly.

He shook his head. “I don’t matter, you do.”

“Yes, you do.” You matter to me. Zelda thought silently to herself. Zelda wanted to tell Faustus she loved him a thousand times since he been back but it never seemed to be the right moment. Sighing, she went over to him. “Oh, Faustus! Your hands are like ice! Here.” Zelda took off the blanket that was wrapped around her and gave it to him before going to the cot to pick up the rest of the blankets.

“No, I don’t want it. I deserve to be cold!” Faustus whined like a child while pushing away the blankets. However, the blankets were tucked tightly around him once Zelda spelled it.

Then she sat down and snuggled next to him. “You know, Faustus,” Zelda said before they both fell asleep, “you can’t go on like this much longer.”

Zelda was right, of course, and Faustus knew it. It was Wednesday morning when it was when Faustus sneaked into the kitchen before anyone had come down. It was a lot harder to switch 2 bottles without powers.

“Well, Father Blackwood! It’s good to see you above ground level.” Faustus turned sharply around, keeping the bottle behind his back as he saw Hilda smiling at him. “Are you feeling better this morning?”

“A little.” He lied. “And call me Faustus.”

“Well, good! Fancy a bit of breakfast? The others should be right down.”

“No, thank you, Hilda. I’m not hungry.” That was true. It took a few more lines of small talk before Faustus was able to leave the kitchen without letting Hilda see the bottle he switched. Out in the hallway, Faustus recognized a book on a bench that as headmistress, Zelda would use. He picked it up and tucked it under his arm. Turning, Faustus almost ran into Sabrina.

“Oh, Miss Spellman, um, Sabrina, I’m glad I bumped into you. I just wanted to say that I am very ashamed of my behavior towards you when we first meet. I know now that I was just taking my anger toward your father out on you and that’s not fair to you.”

Sabrina was stunned. “T-Thank you, Fath, Mr. Blackwood. Perhaps we can start fresh going forward.”

Faustus smiled at the girl. He was back downstairs when he heard footsteps on the steps and Ambrose then came into view with a cardboard box.

“I got you what you asked for from the academy.”

“Thank you, Ambrose. You’re a fine young man. My daughter could do a lot worse.”

Ambrose turned bright red. “We aren’t back together or anything, not yet, I mean, not officially.”

“Nevertheless, I approve. Whatever you and Prudence decide to do.”

“Someone say my name? My ears are burning.” Prudence smiled as she entered.

“Hey, Prudence! What are you doing here?” Asked a friendly Ambrose.

“I just thought I would come round, check on things here. Good morning, Father.”

Faustus returned his daughter’s smile. “Good morning, Prudence.”

“Do you want some company back to school?” Prudence asked Ambrose.

“Sure.”

They both turned to go until Faustus called his daughter back. Prudence turned and Faustus went up to his daughter, caressed her cheek before kissing her and giving her a big hug.

Prudence smiled. “What was that for?”

Faustus smiled back. “I just wanted to kiss and hug you just for no special reason, just once.”

Prudence’s smile grew bigger and she hugged him back. “Thank you, Father.” She whispered in his ear.

She and Ambrose left then, passing Zelda on the stairs.

“Hello, Sister Zelda.”

“Morning, Aunt Z.”

Zelda came downstairs in a rush. “I can’t believe I’m going to be late again.” Zelda seemed to be searching for something.”

“Lost something?” Faustus asked.

“Yes,” Zelda answered. “I need a certain book for my 1st class and I can’t find it anywhere.”

Faustus held up the book he took from the hall. “Is it this one?”

Zelda looked up and immediately lit up. “Yes!” She took it from him and turned to leave.

My beautiful Zelda, Faustus thought. But I need 1 more look, just 1 more.

“Zelda?”

“Yes?” She turned to him again and he drunk her in before he shrugged. “I forgot my thought.”

It was half an hour before Faustus knew he was alone in the house. It was only then that Faustus opened the cardboard box that Ambrose brought him to check if it had all the contents in it. Yep, it was all there. Every stomach-churning item. With 1 look, Faustus could tell that the old-fashioned potbelly stove was not going to be big enough to burn all this stuff. So, Faustus went upstairs to find something bigger. The fireplace in the living room seemed big enough but Faustus simply couldn’t do it. It was on this exact spot, almost a year ago, that he kissed Zelda. It was by far, the very best kiss of his entire existence and that was the night that Faustus and Zelda started the affair that led to their marriage, 6 months later. Faustus continued his search combing all the upstairs but didn’t find anything that he needed. Faustus was on the stairs when a stranger came through the door.

“Zelda?” The stranger called. “Prudence?”

“There’s no one here but me,” Faustus said. “I think they’re at the academy.”

The strange woman looked up at him. “Who are you?”

I could ask the same thing of you. Faustus thought but he actually said “I’m an old friend of the Spellmans. I’m staying here for a few days.”

“Oh, okay, nice to meet you. I’m Mambo Marie and I was just looking for Zelda. She’s been late a lot lately. I think she’s been avoiding me since we broke up.”

Faustus couldn’t stop himself. “Broke up?! You mean, the 2 of you used to be together?” You have no right to feel jealous. Faustus silently scolded himself. You have no right to feel anything but guilt and shame.

“Yes, we went out for a couple of months last spring,” Marie answered and sighed. “I still miss her sometimes. Zelda Spellman is proving a hard woman to get over.”

Try impossible, Faustus thought. Outloud, he said, “Would you like to get back together with Zelda?”

Marie half-smiled and shook her head. “Not going to happen, even if I wanted it to. Our last conversation made that perfectly clear.”

“Oh, it couldn’t have been that bad.”

“Oh no?” Marie challenged. “The last time Zelda and I were alone together, I tried to get her to take…an abortion potion.” She looked down at her feet.

“You tried to get Zelda to kill ou, her baby?”

“I do regret it,” Marie said quickly. “I got hurt that Zelda didn’t tell me herself and I got mad when she told me that the father was that bastard who wants to kill the whole coven.”

Faustus closed his eyes at the word ‘bastard’ but he forced himself to go on. “Have you told Zelda that you’re sorry?”

Marie shrugged. “No, I mean, what would be the point? Zelda would never forgive me.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Zelda can be very forgiving, perhaps too forgiving.”

“What?” asked Marie.

“Nothing,” Faustus dismissed. “You know if you act now you could surprise Zelda with a romantic lunch.”

“You think that will work?”

“Can’t hurt.”

“Well, okay. I’ll try.” Marie smiled.

“Try giving her purple Primroses. They’s are Zelda’s favorites.”

“Thank you.”

“Bye,” Faustus waved until Marie closed the door. “Please take good care of all I love.”

Half an hour later, Zelda walked into her office, studying some papers and looked up to see a set table and Mambo Marie was smiling and holding flowers. “Hello, ma Cherie.”

“Hi, what are you doing?”

“I know it’s been a while,” Marie started. “But I thought we could have lunch together so I could apologize for my behavior from last time.”

Zelda smiled. “I appreciate that.” Zelda closed the folder, tossed it on her desk and sat down on the chair Marie had pulled out for her. Then Marie sat down herself.

“I am sorry Zelda.” Said Marie. “I had no right to tell you what to do with your baby, it is your body, after all.”

“Yes, Marie, it is,” Zelda said firmly.

“But that’s not all.” Marie put her hand on top of Zelda’s and smiled. “Ma Cherie, I think we should give us another chance.” When Zelda said nothing, Marie said jokingly. “What? There’s not somebody else, is there?” Zelda looked at her guiltily.

“Unbelieve!” Marie snapped.

Before a fight could break out, Hilda ran into the office. “Zelda! Zelda!”

Zelda stood up. “Hilda, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“I was just in my herbalism class, showing how nightshade is poison in liquid form but when I opened the bottle, it was only dirt. Then I remember that I saw Father Blackwood in the kitchen, near my purse and since this is the 1st day he’s alone in the house-“

“Faustus is going to kill himself.” Zelda finished for her sister.

Marie was utterly confused. “Wait, isn’t a good thing if Blackwood dies?”

“Blackwood and Faustus are not the same people anymore.”

“What?!”

“Hilda, you explain it to her. I got to go save Faustus.”

But Marie wouldn’t be put off. “Damn it, Zelda Spellman, if you walk out on me now, we are over! I mean it. I’m going back to New Orleans and I won’t be coming back!”

Zelda wasn’t one easily threaten but more than that, Marie didn’t seem to care about a potential suicide. “Have a safe trip,” Zelda said before teleporting home.

Meanwhile, back in the morgue of the Spellman house, Faustus sat in a corner on the floor. He held a picture of Zelda that he swiped from the mantle. “Goodbye, my love.” Faustus lifted the bottle to his lips but before he could drink anything, the bottle flew out of his palm and smashed against the opposite wall.

“What the heaven are you doing, Faustus?!” Zelda demanded, coming more into the room and gently shoved him. “You cannot leave me! You cannot leave me! You cannot leave me!” Zelda turned, covering her eyes to catch the fresh tears. “What are you thinking of?”

“I was thinking of how you and everyone else would be better off without me.”

Zelda shook her head and crossed her arms. “That is so not true! You are needed, Faustus.”

“By who?”

“By your children, by me!” Zelda returned. Faustus shook his head so Zelda went forward and held Faustus’s head so he had no choice but to look at her. “You are loved,” Faustus shook his head. “Yes, you are!” Zelda insisted. “Prudence love you, the twins love you, our new baby will love you and I love you.”

Faustus’s eyes widened. “In all our years, the centuries we’ve known each other, that’s the 1 thing you’re never said to me, never.”

“Well, I do, truly I do. I’m only sorry it took me so long to realize it.”

“What about your girlfriend, Mambo Marie?”

“How do you know about her?” Zelda asked. “Was she here? What am I even talking about? Of course, she was! She would never know to bring me purple primroses all by herself. I won’t lie to you, Faustus. I did have a crush on Marie when we first met but crushes fade and in reality, we don’t know each other and lately, all we do is fight. Even now, when Hilda told me what you had planned, she wanted me to stay and finish lunch with her but all I could think of was you and how I couldn’t bear to lose you, again.” Faustus stayed silent and Zelda got an awful, horrible idea. “Have I gotten this all wrong? I know it’s only been a few months for us but it’s been 15 years for you. Do you no longer love me, Faustus?”

Faustus put an arm around her waist and for a second it looked like he was going to kiss her but forced himself to stop. “I love you so much, Zelda. Other than my children, I’ve never loved anyone else, not for a second. Yet the fact remains that I don’t deserve you.”

“Deserve me or not, you have me!” Zelda said before she kissed him. Faustus tried to resist but Zelda held him close and soon their bodies melted into each other. It wasn’t long before Faustus’s fingers found the zipper on the side of Zelda’s skirt. She stepped out of it and rolled her hosiery and panties down as far as they would go without breaking the kiss. Faustus, meanwhile, unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall off him before he scooped her up and gently laid her on the exam table. Carefully, he lowered himself over her. He began to kiss her, slowly. Beginning with the very top of her head and worked his way down to her forehead, one cheek then the other and on to those sweet, sweet lips. As Faustus moved to kiss her neck, his fingers went to work, unbuttoning her blouse. Zelda’s view was blurry as he caressed her neck but when he skillfully took off her bra and embraced her breasts, Zelda saw nothing at all. Her sight returned when she realized that his kisses had stopped completely. Zelda looked up to see Faustus staring down at her swollen belly. Oh no, Zelda thought, the insecurity creeping in. Faustus wasn’t attracted to a heavyset woman. It was just a fact Zelda knew. Personally, Zelda never had to worry about it, until now. Does he find me disgusting, is that why he stopped.

Yet Faustus’s eyes were filled with wonder as he touched the mount of flesh that housed their child. “That’s our baby in there.” He kissed all around her stomach. “How far along are you?”

“I’m currently 9 and a half months pregnant.”

“It’s odd, isn’t it?” Faustus asked while he continued kissing. “It’s been 15 years for me but only a few months for you, dearest. Hey! What is this?!”

“Oh, that’s just the wound from the gunshot.”

“What?! Who shot you?” Faustus demanded, instantly protective of his wife.

“It doesn’t matter.” When Zelda finally reached for his belt, Faustus grew nervous again.

“Zelda? Maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

“Shh,” Zelda hushed. “You’re safe here. You’re safe with me, I promise.”

“Yes, but are you safe with me?” Faustus questioned.

Zelda only responded by kissing him and gently got on top of him. Now, it was Zelda’s turn to seduce. She kissed his chest, his hips and once she finally removed his pants, she went even lower. Faustus shivered with pleasure. When he couldn’t take it anymore so he rolled himself on top again and entered Zelda. The couple was used to rough sex, but this wasn’t that. This was lovemaking, comforting and soothing lovemaking. The kind outlawed by the dark lord, but they didn’t follow him anymore. Zelda fell asleep in Faustus’s arms.

When Zelda awoke, someone had covered her with a blanket, so she felt warm and safe. Without opening her eyes, Zelda reached out for Faustus but her hand couldn’t find him. Opening her eyes, Zelda discovered that he wasn’t beside her at all. With growing worry, Zelda prompted herself up on her elbow and scanned the room for her husband and found nothing.

“Faustus? Faustus!” Zelda cried out. Why did I fall asleep? She thought, panicking. Why did I leave him alone?

“I’m right here.” Came the calm reply. Zelda looked around and finally found him sitting on the floor, his back resting against the exam table. With a sigh of relief, Zelda wrapped the blanket around herself so she was at least semi-decent should anyone decide to come in before she climbed down to him.

“It seems that I’m always finding you on the floor. We do have chairs, you know.” Zelda snuggled beside him but he made no move to embrace her nor did he push her away.

Finally, Faustus spoke. “We shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay,” Zelda soothed. “We don’t follow the dark lord anymore. Lovemaking should be fine.”

“I don’t give a flying fig about the dark lord!” Faustus cried, getting to his feet. “We shouldn’t have sex at all. Why can I never resist you, Zelda? Now it’s going to be next to impossible to go back.”

Zelda was confused. “I don’t understand, Faustus. Go back wh- OH!” Zelda instantly forgot what she was saying as her hand flew to her mid-section.

Faustus, too, briefly forgot whatever was troubling him as he went to his knees back to his wife. “Zelda? Zelda, what’s wrong?”

However, when Zelda looked up, she was smiling. “The baby,” she explained. “It just kicked.”

An odd expression came across Faustus’s face, one that was half horror, half awe. “Really?”

“Yes!” Zelda took Faustus’s hand and placed it on her stomach. “There,” she said after a moment. “Did you feel that?”

Faustus nodded. “Yes.” A tear fell from his eye as he stood, his head in his hands as he walked away. “This can’t be happening! Not now!” Faustus turned back to Zelda. “We’re finally married. You’re pregnant with my child. It’s all I ever wanted and I have to go back to him!”

Zelda was still completely lost. “Him? Him who?”

“My other half, of course,” Faustus answered. “I can’t thank you enough for…my little break, dearest but we both know that it could affect space and time if I’m not made whole soon. I just, I just can’t believe Edward was right. I’m, I’m just like my father.”

The mention of her brother made Zelda angry. “You are nothing like your father!”

“Oh no?” Faustus challenged. “’ You forget yourself, my dear. A wife walks behind her husband.’ I said that to you not even an hour after we were married. I cannot tell you how many times my father said exactly those words to my mother and my stepmother. I cringed every single time I heard it. I cringed twice as hard when those very words came out my own mouth. That moment I wanted to kick my own ass!”

“But Faustus, that was the curse talking, not you.” Zelda reminded him.

“Curse? What curse?!”

Zelda’s eyes widened and put her hand over her mouth as the realization dawned on her. “You don’t know, do you? Faustus do you what an insaniam maledictum spell is?”

Faustus didn’t need to think about it. “An insanity curse? What’s that got to do with me?”

Everything! Zelda wanted to yell but instead, she said, “It’s getting cold. Let’s get dressed, there’s much to talk about.”

So the couple got dressed and sat side by side on Faustus’s cot. That’s when Zelda told him everything. How Lucifer asked her to be Lilith’s midwife, how her payment was learning how Edward’s cursed their marriage, how she found his journals, the memory spell, how she confronted Edward and finally how she divided him from the curse.

Faustus, understandingly, was shocked for several moments before he spoke. “Do you mean even 16 years after his death, Edward was still trying to keep us apart?”

Zelda frowned but nodded.

“Why that little control freak! How dare he-“ Faustus stopped himself as he hung his head and his shoulders began to shake with heavy sobs. “For 15 long years, I heard my voice use words I didn’t want to say and saw my body do things I didn’t want to do! I thought it was my dark side was taking over completely but I never heard of such a thing!”

A shiver ran down Zelda’s spine. “You knew?” She whispered. “You knew but you couldn’t stop it.”

“Mostly. I was only able to overpower his will when he tried to hit the twins and when he tried to murder you.”

“Faustus, from what I’m hearing, you were trapped in a curse that works like a cargarli spell.”

Faustus froze before he stood up and walked a few feet to distance himself from his wife. “Oh heaven, the cargarli spell! How could I do that to you? I’m so, so sorry Zelda!”

She went to him. “It’s alright, Faustus. You were not responsible for anything you did under the curse. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too.”

“What? Zelda, what on earth do you have to be sorry for?”

“I remember thinking after our wedding that it couldn’t be you but I let my anger and hurt cloud my judgment.” She put her arms around his neck. “Plus, I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that I love you.”

Faustus looked pained. “Zelda, I love you so much but we both know you don’t love me.”

Zelda felt like she had been punched in the gut. “But I do love you, Faustus, truly I do.”

He sighed. “Zelda, you yourself told me that you realized your feeling after reading my journals and performed the memory spell, I think those feelings are just pity.”

“No, Faustus, you’re wrong. Yes, I felt bad for the boy you were but I also realized how much I missed you. I lost count of how many times I want to inferred during the memory spell. I’m in love with you, Faustus and if takes me another 300 years to convince you of that, so be it!” She could see that he wasn’t convinced so she tried again. “You were right all along, Faustus, we do belong together. Think of all we’ve through already. Edward denies us permission to marry so you vow never take a wife. Edward tricks you into marriage with Constance, but it doesn’t kill our feelings for each other or even slow them down. We finally marry and we defeat this insanity curse. I’ve only forgotten my berries once in my life, barely a month after our marriage and that’s the very night I conceive our child. It all means something Faustus.”

He bit his lip. “Are you sure the curse is gone? I mean, just because it’s not in my body anymore doesn’t mean it didn’t creep into other things.”

“Like what?”

Faustus sighed. “Like the baby. You just said you conceived 1 month after our marriage. When the curse was on me. So did you even think the baby was fathered by the curse, not by me?”

“I did think of that, actually,” Zelda said. “Then I thought about how before every time we made love as husband and wife, your eyes would grow soft or you would get a nosebleed. I didn’t know it then but it was you breaking through. Even if you knew it or not, you never let the curse touch me that way and when I realized that, I loved you even more. Secondly, it’s a curse. We have to stop thinking of it as a real person. It may be wearing your skin and speak with your voice but it’s only a spell, a parasite we will be well rid of.”

Faustus lowered his eyes. “How can you be so sure that I’m not the curse? You told me yourself that the light was too bright to see when we separated. What if you brought home the wrong Blackwood?”

Zelda shook her head. “You’re the real Faustus. I know it and I can prove it!” Zelda poked around in some drawers and took out something, held it in her hand and went back to Faustus. “One of the things the curse wanted most is to end the Spellman bloodline. We both know I have Spellman blood. So if you are the curse,” Zelda pressed the knife into his hand and even guided his hand up to her throat. “Kill me.”

They silently eyed each other as Zelda let go of the knife and Faustus did nothing either way. Unafraid, Zelda leaned slightly, just enough so the knife bit into her skin and produced a single drop of blood. Faustus’s lip quivered before he threw down the knife and hugged Zelda to him with all his might.

Zelda kissed his cheek before whispering, “See, darling? You’re not the curse or your father or Edward. You’re you. Faustus. My husband, the father of my unborn baby and the man I love.” Her comments only made him squeezed her tighter.

Zelda was still holding Faustus when she looked up and saw a cardboard box. It felt oddly out of place because Zelda knew they didn’t keep deliveries down here. She was right; for this was the box Ambrose brought Faustus this morning.

“What is that?” Zelda asked. Faustus turned, saw it and moaned.

Faustus, you idiot! He thought. He saw Zelda go over to it but he held her back before she could open it. “No, no, no! I’m sorry Zelda, I meant to burn the contents of that box before..” Faustus’s voice died out.

“Well, what’s in it?”

Faustus sighed and hung his head. “All your things from when you were Lady Blackwood. As I said, I meant to burn everything before you got home but then Mambo Marie showed up and I got sidetracked and forgot. You were never supposed to see them again.”

Zelda was touched. Faustus felt so much shame and guilt that he refused to leave the lowest point of the house for weeks and would have killed himself if Zelda hadn’t stopped him. Yet, somehow, he still had the presence of mind to want to destroy what he knew had been harmful to her. “Well, I’m here now so how about we burn these things together?” She suggested.

Faustus shook his head sadly. “Can’t. I looked all around the house but the only fireplace large to do this in the living room.”

“So? Let’s go.”

“No!” He objected. “I don’t want to ruin the memory of where we had the most perfect kiss of my life.”

Zelda flashed him a smile. “Faustus, my darling, we have a million kisses ahead of us, possibly in every room in this house.” To prove her point, Zelda kissed him right there.

So, with Faustus carrying the box, they made their way to the living room. The box mainly contained those big, bright, colorful 50’s style dresses Zelda wore as Lady Blackwood. Faustus would just roll them up and toss them into the fire but he couldn’t help but notice that Zelda liked to rip up the dresses before feeding them to the fire. Then, at the very bottom of the box, they found it. The music box.

“I’ll take care of it,” Faustus offered.

“No, I’m okay.” Zelda reached into the box and put the music box on the coffee table and checked the drawers for a picture of herself, just in case. Then Zelda looked up at her husband. “Play it.”

Faustus’s eyes bugged out. “What?! No! I don’t want to!”

“Darling, it’s alright. I asked you to. Play the music.”

Unsure and with a deep sigh, Faustus winded up the music box. The tune started to play and then Zelda smashed it all to bits with a poker iron. Faustus smiled and joined it with another poker. Then he helped pick up the wooden pieces and threw them into the fire before gathering his wife into his arms. “I don’t know what I was thinking. You look so much better in black anyway.”

“You weren’t thinking anything, the curse was.” Zelda reminded him.

Despite now knowing about the curse, Faustus still had massive feelings of guilt and shame. He still refused to live anywhere but the morgue, but something had changed. For the next 11 nights, Zelda, without fail, would slip into the cot next to Faustus and stay with him all night. On 9 of those 11 nights, they made love. Faustus had almost forgotten how Zelda’s sexual drive matched so perfectly with his own. On 7 of the nights, Faustus would awaken in a cold swear frightened by harsh nightmares and cruel memories. Sometimes, it took all of Zelda’s soft words and her soft hands to soothed and lull him back to sleep. Despite his promise to her never to try to commit suicide again, Zelda made sure there was at least 1 other person in the house with Faustus at all times since Zelda’s duties during the day were many and growing as this season would be her 1st feast of feast as high priestess. To curb his depression, the other Spellmans tried to interact with him more. Ambrose bought down piles and piles of books and remembered how much he liked to talk about magic and life with the older, more experienced warlock. Sabrina and Faustus struck a deal, to forget their ugly past and try to start anew. Hilda often went to Faustus for help with schoolwork corrections and advice for the 1st time teacher from the man who had done it for centuries.

On the 12th night, Zelda came downstairs with a piece of pumpkin pie. “Faustus, I bought you something.”

Her husband looked up from the book he was reading. “It’s nearly 10, you’re almost never this late.”

“Oh, Faustus. You see what happens when you live in a morgue. The days’ blends into each other. Today was Feast of Feast.”

“Yes, and as if it wasn’t chaotic enough with this being my 1st as high priestess, Hilda was chosen as queen during the lottery.”

“Zelda, I’m so sorry.” Faustus frowned.

However, Zelda smiled. “Don’t be, Hilda’s fine.”

“But you just said your sister was the queen of the feast.”

Zelda nodded. “I did, but as high priestess you know, it’s my right to change the rules which I did. Now the queen and the handmaiden prepares the meal rather than be the meal. Then the coven sups together before hearing mass in Freyda’s name. I remember when the elders of the coven would become enraged when Edward would outlaw things and replace it with nothing.”

“So do I. That’s why I put most of them back.”

“But with my slight changes, I made most of the coven happy plus we get to enjoy the queen’s famous pie.” She handed him the pie and sat down next to him. “Blessed feast.”

Faustus kissed her. “Blessed feast, dearest.”

“Father Blackwood, I need a favor.”

“Hilda, if I have told you once if I have told you a 100 times, I’m no longer a high priest, it’s okay for you to call me Faustus.”

It was the following afternoon and Hilda rushed into the morgue.

“Okay, well, Fath-um, Faustus, I find myself in a bit of a jam. Zelda just called and with Mambo Marie leaving us in the lurch, there’s nobody to teach the next class but me. Normally, it wouldn’t be a problem but today is Black Friday, the busiest shopping day of the year for mortals and I already promised Dr. C that I would help at the bookshop.”

Faustus frowned. “Normally, I would love to help you out but Zelda knows I just can’t look at those students after what I’ve done. Zelda talks about telling them the truth about me being here at one point and then try to slowly ease me back into the coven but I just don’t see it happening.”

Hilda bit her lip. “I know you don’t want to be seen at the academy and totally understand why. So, um, I was actually asking you if you might go lend Dr. C a hand.”

Faustus’s jaw hit the floor. “Go work at a mortal bookstore, me? Certainly not! I wouldn’t know what to do. Besides, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I’m under house arrest.”

“Are you?” Questioned Hilda. “Zelda had told me about you trying your powers to make sure they’re gone but you’ve been here nearly a month now and you’ve rarely left this room, let alone this house. Plus you made that deal with the dark lord that no one serves anymore. It may not be valid. Please, just try, I’m desperate!”

“How?”

Hilda thought for a moment. “Well, when Ambrose was housebound, he couldn’t go past the driveway. We could try that.”

So, they did and Faustus crossed the Spellman driveway and into the public street with ease.

“I don’t get it,” Faustus said, puzzled. “Why would the dark lord take my power but let me roam free?”

“Maybe he forgot,” Hilda offered. “Anyway, I’ll go call Dr. C and tell him you’re on your way!” She was gone before Faustus could remind her that he hadn’t officially agreed to do anything.

The walk into town took 20 minutes. Despite everything, even Faustus had to admit that the fresh air and the change of scenery did him a world of good. What did Hilda say? That it was the biggest shopping day of the year for mortals? Boy, she wasn’t kidding! From the moment he arrived, the place was packed! Apparently, it was a teenage hangout as well as a bookstore. Somehow, Faustus made his way to the check-out counter where Dr. C, who was expecting him, greeted him and gave him a vampire cape to wear. Despite the cape, despite the mortals, Faustus actually had a pleasant afternoon. It was a very nice afternoon. It was nice to be busy and have something to do other than just dwell on his own guilt and sadness. Secondly, Faustus learned the ropes of working retail fairly quickly. Thirdly and perhaps most surprisingly of all, despite the fact that they only met that day, Dr. C and Faustus had an almost instant connection. They say that opposites attract in love but maybe it’s true in friendship as well. The shop was so busy that it was 6:30 that evening before the men could stop to eat.

“Thank you,” Faustus said as he reached for the mug of coffee.

Dr. C smiled. “I’m delighted to meet you, Faustus. I have heard a lot about you.”

“Not all good, I bet,” Faustus muttered.

Dr. C ignored that comment. “I have a question for you, actually. When Hilda’s brother married a mortal, they got major hassle but it wasn’t a big deal when Hilda and I got engaged. I’m not complaining or anything just wondering why.”

Faustus raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you an incubus? That’s what Zelda told me.”

“Yeah. I mean, I am now but I was born mortal. The demon stuff didn’t happen until college.”

“Doesn’t matter. The demon is a part of you and abled you to marry a full-blooded witch, like Hilda. Consider it a marriage loophole.”

Both men heard the chime of the bell above the door which meant more customers.

Dr. C stood up. “I’ll go. Can you clean up?”

Faustus nodded and cleaned up until he heard “Come on, old man, give us the money!” Faustus sneaked up to the storefront to see that Dr. C was being robbed at gunpoint.

Damn! Faustus didn’t know what to do. He no longer had magic to save him so Faustus looked around and smiled.

Meanwhile, Dr. C was in trouble. “Let’s go, old man!” Ordered Punk #1. “This money better be more real than your attempt to look like a vampire.”

Punks #2 & 3 laughed. “Good one, man,” Punk #2 said. “A fake vampire.”

“You’re right, he is a fake vampire,” Faustus came from the backroom, his hands behind his back. “Unluckily for you 3, I am a real warlock.”

Punk #3 was in awe. “Cool! So you conquer lands and stuff?”

Faustus sighed. “No, you idiots, not a warlord. A warlock, a male witch.”

“Right,” sneered Punk #1. “He’s a vampire and now you’re a witch. So, what are you going to do? Hocus pocus us to death?”

“No. That term is utterly useless. Besides, everyone knows that the really strong spells are in Latin. Like” Faustus shrugged and spoke some Latin words.

The punks sloppily repeated the words back then asked, “What does that mean?”

“A big, honking baseball bat!” Then, and only then did Faustus produce the Louisville slugger from behind his back. He chased the punks around the shop and finally, out the door. He was so pumped up that he barely heard the gunshot. A moment later, Faustus came back in, the bat resting on his shoulder and he was laughing. “Well, we showed them didn’t we?” Silence. “Dr. C?”

Zelda and Hilda ran into the ER entrance of the hospital.

“My fiancée has been shot! Where is he?” Hilda demanded of the woman at the nurse’s station. They got the room number and rushed to where Dr. C was with a doctor.

Hilda rushed to him with a hug and kiss. “Oh, love, are you okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” the doctor answered, “It’s just a flesh wound.”

“So, what happened?” Zelda asked, in a tone calmer than her sister.

“I was robbed,” Dr. C explained, “ladies, Faustus was amazing. He distracted the robbers long enough to activate the silent alarm, he chased them off with a bat. One must have gotten scared for the gun went off and glazed my shoulder. When I came back around, I was in the ambulance and Faustus was right there with me. The paramedic told me that Faustus applied pressure to the bleeding and saved my life.”

Hilda closed her eyes and sighed. “Thank Hecate, he was there.”

“Where’s my husband now?” asked Zelda.

“I don’t know. He was here a second ago.”

In the next room, Faustus looked up at the silvery half-moon. “Hecate, mother, let him be alright. For he feels one-tenth for Hilda what I feel for Zelda, they’ll be very happy together.”

“You’re praying to Hecate.” Faustus barely saw Zelda in the doorway before his wife was in his arms and kissing him deeply. “What was that for?”

“Are you kidding?” She replied. “You saved Dr. Cereberus.”

“Saved him? I got him shot.”

“Don’t be daft,” Zelda dismissed. “You saved him and without having magic, you were in just as much in danger as he was but you didn’t even think of that, did you? That’s what made you a hero tonight.”

“I don’t want to be a hero! I want to be perfect! For only a perfect man could ever be worthy of you.”

She kissed him again. “I love you so much, Faustus even if you are talking nonsense.”

Hilda stayed overnight at the hospital so Zelda and Faustus took a cab home. Faustus immediately headed for the morgue but Zelda stopped him.

“No, I have a surprise for you and it’s upstairs.”

So they went upstairs with Zelda explaining she had already planned to give him the surprise tonight but now he truly earned it. Zelda opened a door that led to a cozy bedroom with a double bed and an attached bathroom suite.

Zelda smiled. “Welcome home.”

“This is a whole new room. When did you do this?”

“I started the night after we first made love.”

His eyes bugged out. “You made a whole new bedroom and bathroom in just 11 days?!”

“Darling, some of us still have our magic.”

“Dearest, this is superb. But I can’t stay here. I don’t deserve such comfort.”

“Then, do it for me,” Zelda suggested. “I refuse to sleep apart from my husband but my back is crying out in protest at the thought of another night on that cot. Speaking of my increasingly pregnant body, I need to get off my feet. Care to help me christen our new bed?” It was only then that Faustus returned her smile.

Hours later, after they had made love and fallen asleep in each other’s arms, Faustus awoke in a cold sweat and a sharp intake of breath. “Damn these nightmares! Will they ever go away.”

“It’s alright, my love. There is no quick fix spell for trauma and you’ve been living with that curse for some time now.” Zelda snuggled closer and laced her fingers with his. “The good news is that we have all the time in the world.”

#chilling adventures of sabrina #caoz #ch 5 #part 4 my way #fanfic #spellwood #zelda spellman #faustus blackwood #hilda spellman #dr. cerberus #sabrina spellman #ambrose spellman #prudence night

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flutteringphalanges · 5 years ago

Photo

Mirabile Visu

Summary: Sister Agatha Van Helsing discovers she’s in over her head when a competitive game of chess ultimately results in her becoming pregnant with the child of her worst enemy, Count Dracula. Now tied by a bond deeper than blood, the two must learn to coexist and adapt in a world that could be potentially hostile towards their offspring. Parenthood has never looked so batty.

Characters: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing

Chapters: 8/?

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: Thank you guys for all of the love and support! It means the world! For that reason, I gave up lunch so I could finish this chapter for you! I hope it is to your liking! Let me know your thoughts! -Jen

Chapter Eight

Jonathan Harker Foundation

Present Time

There was definitely a change in the atmosphere since the night Dracula and Agatha had made their appearance at Zoe's home. Only a few days had passed and already Sorina had begun to pick up that something was off. Her aunt seemed more distant, aloof, burying herself in her work and paying no mind to her niece. Even Jack was acting off. Skittish, constantly glancing over his shoulder as if half expecting someone to jump from the shadows. If this was the new normal, she definitely wasn't liking it.

"What's with you?" Sorina asked one afternoon, placing a hand on Jack's arm. When he jumped in surprise, she pulled back, slightly hurt. "You're...acting weird."

"It's nothing," he attempted to assure her, his tone faltering. "Just a little under pressure since the Foundation hired me."

"Right," the young woman frowned, unconvinced. "Listen, my parents finally got settled into their new place. I haven't exactly been there yet, but I was planning to go tonight. I'd love it if you'd come and meet-"

"Can't," he cut her off quickly. Realizing the disappointment in her eyes, he exhaled. "I'm sorry, Sunny, some other time. I'm just busy tonight."

"Yeah, okay…" Sorina agreed, biting her lower lip. "So what does Zoe have you doing exactly? I never got to officially congratulate you for being hired. I mean, you know, from the internship to full time. They don't just hire anyone here."

It was useless small talk, but maybe with a little bit of effort she could get him to cave. But just as she was about to press further, a woman approached in a swift, purposeful manner. Dr. Bloxham. A woman that, Sorina had learned, lost her thumb to her father's bite. Her opinion on Sorina changed after that, not that the doctor had been fond of the halfling to begin with.

"Dr. Seward," she greeted, her eyes briefly flickering to Sorina before returning to Jack. "Dr. Van Helsing requests your presence in the lab. It's an urgent matter and she would prefer it if you came alone."

Alone. A bitter taste was beginning to sour in Sorina's mouth. Something was up and whatever it was, it more than likely had some relation to her. Not that she ever had much interest in what her aunt did, but with her acting so secret, more than ever did she want in. She looked over to Jack, hoping for some sort of recognition, an insistence that she join him. But he didn't.

"I'll go now. Thank you Dr. Bloxham," he tried not to meet Sorina's stare, knowing full well she was glowering at him. And she had ever right to be. But she also wasn't aware of the settle, low key threats he'd receive at random times through text from her father. Even when he blocked the number, a new one would appear. He was determined and Jack's guard had never been higher. "Sorry, Sunny," he apologized yet again. "Maybe it'll be quick. I'll hurry back, I promise."

"Don't rush on my account," she said, trying to force a smile. "I'm glad Zoe needs you. Maybe you can even let me in on what's been going on?"

"If I were to break confidentiality, it'd always be for you," he chuckled, lightening the mood. "I better go before I get written up. You know how your aunt is."

"Oh trust me," she rolled her eyes, letting out a huff. "I've lived with her for her entire life. I know."

He hesitated before pulling her into a quick squeeze. Still feeling Bloxham's eyes on him, he let go and headed towards the laboratory. Zoe was easy enough to find, dressed in her white lab coat as she stood hunched over a table. When he drew closer, Jack was surprised that the woman wasn't looking at anything. She was pale, her features seeming to have aged years since he last saw her.

"Zoe?" He questioned, his voice soft. "Is everything alright?" Was it the cancer? Had it truly progressed much faster than anticipated? "Do you need to sit down or…"

"She's pregnant," the woman whispered, not meeting the young man's eyes. "Agatha...Agatha is pregnant."

"What?" Jack asked, baffled. "Wait-are you sure? How is it even possible?! Do they know? Does Sorina-"

"No," she shook her head. "They haven't been informed." The scientist swallowed, finally turning to face her former graduate student. "I'm going over with Zoe tonight to give them an ultimatum. Either Agatha agrees to come back to the Foundation for...observation, or the Foundation will take matters into their own hands."

"Wait, what are you saying?" Jack frowned, taking a step back. "Can the Foundation really do that?! I thought they couldn't hold either Dracula or Agatha legally. He even had a lawyer, that's how-"

"This is different," Zoe cut him off. "What Agatha is pregnant with...we don't know what it could be or if it could pose a threat. The situation…"

"So you want to experiment on something that is like Sorina?" He shot back.

"I never said anything about experimentation," she countered. "I don't like this anymore than you do, Jack. But if we don't get her to do this voluntarily, I can't say that I have the power to protect them. You know I'd never want to hurt Sorina, and…"

"I'll go tonight," he muttered. "But only for Sorina's sake. I don't want any part of what's going on. In fact, if something happens, I'm resigning. If you truly loved Sunny, you'd do it too."

"Jack," she called out. "I…"

But the man was already walking away, shoving his badge down deep into his pocket. His fear for Dracula had momentarily vanished. He had to warn Sorina, or at least, do something. Yet he felt powerless. As he stared up at the portrait of Jonathan Harker on the wall, something inside him burned. Anger. Conflicted. He exhaled, pulling his phone out of his pocket and glancing down. Tonight was sure to be something else.

XXX

"Jack!" Sorina exclaimed in surprise as she swung the door open. "You came!"

"Yeah," he said, forcing a smile. "Couldn't let you come alone now, could I?"

She peered behind his shoulder, frowning slightly when she caught sight of Zoe. Her aunt gave her a nod, adjusting her purse on his shoulder. Still awkward. Still uncomfortable. The young woman stepped inside and allowed the two guests to come in.

"Big place," the young man stated, gaze taking in the size of it all. For someone who was centuries old, Dracula was quite up to the current trends on interior decorating. It must've cost a fortune, especially designing it for vampire accommodations. "It's nice."

"Why thank you," another woman said, stepping out into the room. "You must be Jack."

A sense of uneasy crept of Jack's spine as Agatha walked towards him with a smile. Her resemblance to Zoe was nearly uncanny. He hadn't exactly been sure what to expect when it came to Sorina's mother, but the vampire seemed nice enough.

"It's very nice to meet you," he nodded. "Thanks for having me," he looked to Zoe. "Us over."

"The pleasure is all ours."

The young man's blood turned ice cold as a figure stepped from the shadows. He was tall, incredibly so, and within a few strides, he stood looming over Jack. Count Dracula in the flesh. Suddenly Jack was wishing he had turned down Zoe's request.

"Hello, Jack," the vampire's mouth curved into a crude smile. "I'm surprised. I can't say I was expecting you." His eyes flickered up and down. "You look much different in person. A lot more mortal than I imagined…"

"Dad," Sorina warned. "Don't."

They had only been there for a few minutes and already the tension had risen.

"What?" The count asked, feigning innocence. "I can't address my daughter's admirer?" He began to circle Jack, head cocked curiously. "So disappointingly inferior," Dracula commented, leaning in close to take in Jack's scent. "Nothing worthy of commemoration. Now tell me," his voice fell to barely a whisper. "What does she see in you?"

"Someone who is kind, caring, and doesn't judge me for who or what I am," Sorina's voice cut in as she closed the distance between her and her father. "Who didn't abandon me when I needed them most!"

"Again with this. For the last time, Sorina," the vampire exhaled heavily, voice laced with irritation. "We didn't abandon you! Your mother and I did what was best. Clearly the Van Helsings' bloodline neglected to teach you appreciation!"

"Sunny, it's okay, really," Jack began, but was abruptly silenced by the halfling's hand.

"Well at least I had Mom's side to raise me at all!" Sorina hissed, her fists clenching. "And how do you know so much about Jack?! What did…" Without thinking, Jack glanced down at his pocket where the outline of his phone was visible. It didn't take long for the halfling to put two and two together. "Were you harassing him over text?!"

Despite the improvement of her relationship with her mother, clearly it wasn't the same case for her and her father. He really shouldn't have come. Not when even more drama was about to be thrown into the pot.

"Both of you stop," Agatha cut in. "Dracula, leave the poor boy alone and Sorina, stop taking your father's bait. You're only encouraging him." She sighed, looking rather tired. "We don't really have any food to offer you. But if you'd like, you can sit and…"

"There's actually a reason I came here tonight," Zoe finally said, speaking up. "A rather urgent matter that needs discussion."

"It is about whether or not I'm moving in here?" Sorina frowned, brow furrowing. "Look, everything is happening so fast, and I don't want to leave…"

"Agatha's pregnant."

A hush fell over the room, even Dracula seeming stunned by the news. Sorina, taking the chance, grabbed Jack's wrist and pulled him over to her side. She looked up to him, as if attempting to read his expression and see how long he'd known. Absentmindedly, Agatha's hands rested on her flat abdomen.

"What?" She asked, confusion in her tone. "That...that's impossible."

"It must've happened right before The Demeter disaster," Zoe exclaimed. "Before Dracula turned you. When you went dormant, so did the fetus. And now that you're awake, your pregnancy has started to progress." She paused, trying to choose her words wisely. "I'm here on behalf of the Foundation to ask you return for observation-"

"Absolutely not," Dracula growled, interrupting. He stepped in front of Agatha, glowering at the scientist. "None of us are going anywhere, especially Agatha. You held us against our will last time and it proved to be illegal. What's to say I don't call my lawyer again and-"

"I came to warn you," Zoe replied darkly. "There are forces out there stronger than you both. Please, for your own sake, consider returning to the Foundation until we can figure out…"

"The answer is no," the vampire snapped. "Now, I think you should leave." His gaze flickered to Jack. "Both of you."

"Jack didn't do anything," Sorina protested. "You can't just throw him out!"

"This is my house, I can, and I will," he exclaimed.

"Fine," Sorina hissed. "Then I'll leave too. C'mon, Jack."

"Sorina," Agatha called out. "Wait-"

But the girl had already dragged Jack out of the apartment. The three remaining adults stood silently, Zoe looking surprisingly sympathetic at Agatha. With a nod, she exited, feeling Dracula's eyes boring into her back as she did. When she was out of range, she pulled out her phone.

"Dr. Bloxham? This is Dr. Van Helsing. I attempted to have Agatha agree to go in voluntarily, but she declined. Listen, I honestly believe that there is no harm in the child that she's carrying. If Sorina is any proof, it will be harmless. Please reconsider your decision and call me when you get the chance."

The doctor hung up her phone and let out a long sigh. It was late and she was exhausted. Throwing one last look at the door, she made her way towards the steps. Maybe some good news would come by tomorrow.

XXX

"Another baby," Agatha mused, letting out a little huff. "I can't say I quite expected that." She glanced over at Dracula from where they sat curled up on the couch. "You've been quiet. Are you still thinking about Sorina?"

"I'm thinking about a lot of things," he admitted. "But yes, she is one of them."

"Jack seems like a good man," she smiled. "Sorina is smart. She isn't a little girl anymore."

"And yet, I keep finding myself forgetting that," he exhaled. "It feels like only yesterday she was three years old wanting to play dolls and read with me and now," he smirked. "She wants to bite my head off. I only want the best."

"I know," Agatha murmured, resting her head on his shoulder. "Just give it time. Who knows, maybe you and Jack-"

The former nun was abruptly cut off by a loud bang. The front door blew open as several men wearing black protective gear and helmets stormed in. Dracula jumped in front of Agatha as the figures surrounded them, pointing strange looking rifles in their general direction.

Zoe had been right. The Foundation was hellbent on getting Agatha. Whether they went peacefully or not.

#Dracula #Dracula 2020 #Dracula on Netflix #Agatha Van Helsing #Dragatha #Dracula x Agatha #Mirabile Visu

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