#harximoff

[garrywantspasta]

I think there would be a moment of confrontation where Wanda would spit out her resentment for that lie. It still hurts to remember that she actually believed she had a friend for a moment, and that she loved her.

Part 2:

https://www.tumblr.com/garrywantspasta/765606642288082944/part-2-of-my-headfic?source=share

[lanfear-is-my-darkmistress]

I'm gonna need Agatha to work on her recruiting skills if that's the case. Of course Wanda wasn't interested she's was being mentally tormented by Agatha 😂😂😂😂

[satanic-nightjar]

Wanda, texting Agatha: [sends a voice message]

Agatha, texting back: I’m a little busy, is it urgent?

Wanda: No, don’t worry, just listen later :)

[Later]

Agatha: [presses play]

Wanda’s voice message: THERE’S A FIRE-

[saneperfectdoller]

Obsessed with Rio/Agatha/Wanda dynamic where they're both dating Agatha and Rio hates Wanda but Wanda also loves Rio I can't explain why

[magicsprat]

𝑨𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒂 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑾𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒂 𝑴𝒂𝒙𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒇𝒇 – 𝟓𝟎-𝟔𝟎 𝒔 𝒂𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔

[lost-on-t-umblr]

okay but do we think Rio was jealous of the tears Agatha was crying for Wanda,,,,, (trapped under a spell as her mind may have been)

[thelilreddragon]

ENEMIES TO LOVERS???? PLEASE??? JUST GIVE ME THIS????

[hrwinter]

i need to see agatha flirt with wanda again

[aparticularbandit]

Additional thoughts (two separate posts):

The Road is clearly causing the witches to confront their trauma in a space where they can depend on each other to help them out of and overcome it.

What did Agatha do with Wanda during WandaVision?

She took her through her most traumatic memories in a space where she can learn from them.

Agatha took Wanda through a version of the Road, and what Wanda needed most at the end of it was to accept who she was as the Scarlet Witch and to overcome her trauma.

...we don't mention DSMOM changing that ending because it ruins the point.

[teafaellana]

Harximoff, Vidarkness, and Vidarximoff are just far superior to Wagatha, Agathario, and Wagathario. Why are we not using them?

Agathario as ship names go isn’t super horrible, but I really cannot say Wagatha or Wagathario and not hate it coming out of my mouth. And also Vidarkness is just SO COOL.

[our-blood-is-our-ink]

Hello I was just wondering when chapter 2 of Careful creatures will drop! If there will be a chapter 2 at all, (I really hope there will be)

Ope, not me dropping off the face of the planet fic writing wise. The depreseeion really gets to you. Anyways, here's FINALLY, Chapter Two 💚💜❤️

Careful Creatures: Chapter Two

Ship(s): Hela x Agatha, Agatha x Wanda, Wanda x Hela, Hela x Agatha x Wanda

Summary: Three powerful beings broken down back to the start somehow find themselves brought together as they relearn themselves and each other.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: angst, descriptions of being burnt, mild gore, mention of sexual assault/non-con/rape, abuse of alcohol/alcoholism/addiction, amnesia, split personality but make it ✨magic✨

Disclaimer: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI!

A/N: Please READ THE WARNINGS before proceeding. If this were on AO3 it would be rated E for explicit material later on in the series, and M for mature material for the heavy content this story deals with.

Hela groans, her head pounding.

The second thing she registers is how much pain the rest of her body is in.

“Sh…” A soft, sweet voice soothes. “You're going to be okay, let me finish cleaning out your wounds.”

Distrust immediately floods the goddess, but her limbs hardly even respond to her internal command, her fingers twitching pathetically as she tries to call forth for her twin blades.

She can't even get her eyes to open.

When a cool cloth is pressed against one of her numerous burns, she nearly whimpers, the pain cutting sharply through the duller agony she is in.

“I know it probably hurts.” The sweet voice says, tone gentle and quiet. “But at least it hopefully won't get infected. I don't know if you're awake or not, but I hope you can hear me either way and that it's helping.” A pause. “I like helping people, I think. It feels… That feels familiar.”

Hela’s head hurts too much for her to decipher what the voice means by that, and instead focuses on the rhythmic motions the cloth is making over her cracked and blistered skin.

More than anything, once the sharp bite of pain fades, the coolingness of it soothes the way Hela still feels as if her skin is aflame, burning and burning and burning.

An unconscious whine slips from her lips when there's a pause, and the sweet voice shushes her again.

“I'm just dipping it into the water again. I'm trying to be very careful, these wounds look pretty bad.”

Hela has enough of her thoughts together to keep herself from whining again, but just barely.

Her lips do part in a throaty sigh of relief as she feels the cloth once more resuming its motions across her heated skin, but the action makes her aware of just how thirsty she is.

“W’er.” She attempts to croak out.

It hurts. Her throat hurts so bad, like the rest of her.

“Hm?” The voice hums in question.

“Wa-er.” Hela tries to carefully pronounce, but her tongue and mouth are so dry, she can't get the ‘t’ sound out.

“Oh, yes! Of course.” The sweet voice sounds… Embarrassed, perhaps? “Let me prop you up, so you don't choke.”

Hela nearly whimpers again as soft hands grasp at her, her skin still feeling as if it's on fire, and the pain spikes as she's manhandled into a more upright position.

How low she has fallen.

No family, no friends, no allies.

None but whoever the voice belongs to.

When water drips down onto her lips, she parts them and greedily sucks down the water being tipped into her mouth.

It hurts to swallow, but everything will hurt worse if she doesn't.

A sigh of relief expels itself after a few minutes, and Hela can feel her head loll back.

“You can rest.” The voice says. “I won't leave.”

Distrusting as Hela generally is, she has no choice but to trust.

If she wasn't suddenly flooded with exhaustion, she would be furious at how helpless she has become.

As it is though, she can barely conjure two words in her mind to string together.

She falls back to darkness.

—»•«—

She leans against the kitchen counter, letting the other woman ransack the cabinets in search of coffee as she smiles viciously, enjoying the enraged yelling coming from the other room.

“Seriously, where's the coffee.”

“You'd have better luck just grabbing a beer, dear.” She replies. “Or a cooler.”

Darcy Lewis lets out an exasperated sigh.

“You can drop the flirty neighbor routine, I just saw you beat up, like, six different guys.”

Agatha huffs, and doesn't deign to respond.

Ralph shouts another threat.

“You're gonna have to do something else with him. You can't just keep him tied up forever.”

Agatha shrugs carelessly.

“Take him into custody for all I care.”

“Oh, um. I don't exactly work with S.W.O.R.D. anymore. Or… Any government branch.” Darcy mumbles.

She quirks a brow, and Darcy blushes harder.

“They might've put Dickward into prison, but they said that crashing a vehicle into him was ‘reckless’ and ‘needlessly risky’.”

“Of course they did.” Agatha snorts. “This is why I've stayed under the radar.”

“You mean until you thought trying to kill a wanted fugitive was gonna be beneficial for you.”

The older woman scowls.

“That was not what I was trying to do.”

“Sure looked like it.”

Agatha scowls harder and distinctly does not look in the direction of any alcohol.

…

Fuck.

She pushes herself away from the counter and opens the freezer, pulling out a margarita mix pack.

“Um.” Darcy sounds a bit startled, looking up from where she's crouched, victoriously clutching at the canister of coffee she finally found. “Do you really think more alcohol is a good idea?”

She ignores the other woman, and wobbles a little as she begins to walk around the kitchen, pulling the various things she needs to make the drink to her liking.

“Agatha..?”

“Agnes, hot stuff! I don't know why people keep trying to call me Agatha!” She smiles brightly, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

Darcy seems frozen while Agnes whirls around the kitchen, determinedly ignoring the shouting coming from the other room.

The bubbly woman continues to smile with false brightness as she places the finishing touches on her drink, shrugging good-naturedly when Darcy shakes her head at the offered second glass Agnes holds out to her.

“More for me, dear!” She laughs, before taking a long drink from the first.

“I, um… Hot water?” Darcy asks weakly.

Agnes’s face shifts into a slight scowl that's gone almost as soon as it appears.

“You'll have to boil a pot.” Her tone is pointedly not cheery, and she drains the first cup of alcohol in her hand before moving on to the second.

Darcy steps in her way when she moves to grab another mix.

“I don't think more is a good idea.” The other woman says, flinching nervously as Ralph bellows again.

Agnes trembles slightly and tries not to let her anger get the best of her.

Being angry meant making mistakes and making mistakes meant getting punished.

“It's just a little something to help with the day!” Agnes attempts.

“How about some coffee instead?” Darcy offers.

Agnes does truly scowl now, and she crosses her arms.

“You’re in my home, dear.”

Darcy latches on to that.

“Yeah, exactly. I'm your guest. It wouldn't be polite of you to get smashed while I'm here.”

Agnes’s scowl deepens for a split second before a forced smile returns to her face.

“You're right, hon! I'll take some coffee too if that's what you want to have. Just make mine an Irish.” Agnes throws in a wink for good measure.

Ralph yells a string of crude words from the other room and both women exchange a glance.

“Maybe we should gag him,” Darcy suggests.

Agnes shudders.

“I– no. No, thank you, dear. I don't want my fingers anywhere near his mouth.”

Darcy very clearly decides not to ask.

Not that Agnes would have answered.

Ralph… Well, he is her husband.

Her husband who gave his friends permission to have sex with her. Who didn't care if she wanted that or not.

Agnes hisses with pain as a stabbing pain shoots across her head, right behind her left eye.

“I… I think I'm going to go lay down for a spell, dear.” She mumbles, not completely aware of her surroundings anymore. “I suddenly don't feel so well.”

Agnes doesn't know if Darcy answers her or not. Her ears are buzzing too much to.

—»•«—

…an…y…u…e…ar…me…?

—»•«—

Wanda sits and watches the mysterious woman diligently, her eyes roving over the places where her outfit is torn and burnt.

Pale skin is marred by angry red, and in some cases, a blackened soot color that only causes her to feel nauseated with guilt and fear.

She doesn't know why.

Raven locks, shining nearly blue, are a knotted, tangled mess, the long, straight strands seemingly determined to create a bird’s nest.

Wanda doesn't doubt that well taken care of, her mystery woman would be very, very beautiful.

Her heart twists painfully, and she scowls.

Her memory refuses to return, but not the echoes of the emotions. It's impossible for Wanda to make sense of what she's feeling without the memories attached to why she would be inclined to feel a certain way about any specific thing.

It's stupid.

She groans and thunks her head gently back against the tree trunk she's sitting against.

She hopes the pale woman wakes up again soon.

Wanda is beginning to feel restless, a creeping dread slowly overcoming her.

She doesn't know why, only that something in her, deep down, is pushing her, tugging her feet somewhere not here.

[garrywantspasta]

And then, Agatha reached her prize at the end of the Witch's road... (Her sitcom wife and her magic [that's currently inside her sitcom wife].)

[godandmonsters1996]

In a quest to resurrect Vision, Wanda seeks out Agatha Harkness, a powerful witch rumored to control the Darkhold. Their encounter is charged with dark magic and desire as Agatha offers her help in exchange for Wanda's submission. Bound by a dangerous pact, Wanda navigates a path of forbidden spells and intimate rituals, unraveling mysteries of power and passion.

"Agatha Harkness," Wanda's voice trembled slightly as she spoke the name she had sought for so long.

The figure turned slowly, revealing piercing eyes that seemed to see straight through Wanda. Agatha Harkness, ancient and formidable, regarded Wanda with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

"So, you're the Scarlet Witch," Agatha's voice was like honey laced with venom, smooth yet carrying an undercurrent of danger. "What brings you to my humble abode, dear?"

"I need your help," Wanda's voice wavered as she struggled to maintain composure. "I've heard tales of your mastery over the Darkhold. I... I need to bring someone back."

[satanic-nightjar]

Wanda: So, I’m thinking a spring, maybe fall wedding. I don’t want it to be too hot, though.

Agatha: Wanda, we’re not even engaged.

Wanda, slamming her head on the table: SO THAT’S WHAT I FORGOT TO DO LAST NIGHT!

[marril96]

@wandagatha-week | day seven

soulmates

Storyline:

Agatha drives Wanda crazy to the point where she pursues her. Despite trying her hardest not to, she falls in love with her, but Agatha doesn't care. She thinks of their affair as a game. Having had enough, Wanda decides that if she can't have Agatha, no one else can, either.

[p-taryn-dactyl]

For the prompts, 44 with harximoff maybe?

(I like your Wanda a lot. You write her so well.)

hi! thank you so much, i love writing for Wanda lol. this is my first time writing for harximoff and since I dont really ship it, i kinda made this into an AU? psychiatrist!Agatha and author!Wanda, i hope it’s okay, i just thought those jobs fit them the best!

word count: 702 (ik it’s not that long, I’m sorry)

pairing(s): agatha harkness x wanda maximoff

44: I’ll sleep when I’m dead

Sleep When Dead

Sighing, Agatha got out of bed, dragging her feet across the cold wood floors until she could see the light filtering out from under the office door. Gently, she pushed the door open, eyes growing fond as they landed on her wife. Her wife who was tirelessly typing away on a typewriter, a gift from Agatha for their tenth anniversary, the clacking ringing through the air. Agatha leaned against the doorway, basking in the intensely focused air that radiated from Wanda. Her dark curls were pulled up into a messy bun, coils falling out and brushing the nape of her neck, bouncing with every excited click of Wanda’s fingers. Slowly, after a few minutes, Wanda seemed to notice the presence in the room. Pausing with the faux excuse of getting a new sheet of paper, Wanda turned around and sent Agatha a smile. 

“zdravo ljubavi,” she whispered, exhaustion evident in her tone. Agatha smiled softly, moving from her place at the door to wrap her arms around Wanda’s torso, resting her chin on her wife’s shoulder as she returned to writing. She placed a gentle kiss on Wanda’s neck before speaking. 

“The bed's getting cold without you, libe,” Wanda’s typing only slowed a fraction, “When were you planning to join me?” 

Wanda continued typing before sighing and stopping. 

“I had a burst of inspiration while showering and I just had to write it down, you know how hard this book has been for me.” 

Agatha nodded. She did. Ever since Wanda’s first book, No Strings On Me, a chilling retelling of the beloved story of Pinochio, became a New York Times best seller - with practically every book store’s shelves clearing within a month of the release, Wanda’s agent had been pressing her to release a new novel. Not a sequel necessarily but another book written with the magic that only Wanda seemed to have. Wanda claimed it wasn’t her talent that got her to where she is but her typewriter, always saying that you could write absolute horsehit and the typewriter would turn it into gold. 

“I do, darling, but stressing yourself and losing sleep isn’t the answer. Come with me back to sleep and after we wake up and have breakfast, you can write while I look over medication and transfer release forms.” 

Wanda contemplated this, a smile growing on her lips. She loved the days where she and Agatha worked silently in the same room, soft music in the air from Agatha’s record player she refuses to get rid of. But a trickle of disappointment interrupted her happy thoughts, making her lean back against Agatha. 

“Thank you, Aggie but I need to finish this chapter, it won’t take long I promise!”

Agatha sighed, shaking her head. She played with the fallen curls of Wanda’s bun, eyes starting to droop from exhaustion. 

“You need to sleep, Wanda.”

Her wife chuckled, humor sparking her dark eyes. 

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead, žena.” 

Agatha rolled her eyes, nipping at Wanda’s ear, making her wife squeak in surprise, before standing up straight again. 

“I did not go through twelve years of learning how the brain works for you to brush off your health. You can finish your chapter in the morning, my dear, just write down your thoughts and come to bed.”

Not wanting Agatha to go on another rant about the effects of sleep deprivation on the growth and removal of toxins of the brain and also hearing the desperate tone her wife was probably purposefully emphasizing, Wanda grabbed her fancy ink pen, scribbling down the plot twist on a sticky note. She stood up, letting Agatha hold her hand as she made her way to the bedroom. Her last thought as her head hit the pillows was that Agatha was probably going to “forget” to wake her up in the morning to continue writing. Wanda found that she wasn’t bothered by this thought as sleep wrapped itself around her like a comforting hug. 

Agatha watched as her wife fell into a deep sleep, carefully leaning across her to turn off the alarm on Wanda’s phone. She wrapped her arms around Wanda and fell asleep to the sound of her wife’s heartbeat.

a/n: i hope you enjoyed this! It’s my first time writing for harximoff so it might be a bit choppy but thank you for reading!!