Welcome to this blog's masterlist of original writing.
Beware that most of the works here are gxg based with female characters, actresses or singers. I do not intend to assume no real person's sexuality, nor do I intend to follow canon page by page.
Some works from wattpad are to be posted here.
Requests are open (in any way you may see fit), but I do only write for the following list:
[🛑] = Works ready and posted on wattpad that will be posted here soon.
Summary: Upon returning from Rhuidean, Moiraine deals with more than just what she saw about Rand and herself. Aes Sedai were never meant to fall in love; especially with each other.
Warnings: Hurt; comfort; hurt again. Not revised yet.
Word Count: 1.2kish
The wind howled softly at Moiraine Damodred. Cold, carrying so much as sand to cling to her skin, it did little to bother her in the deepest of her thoughts. It wasn’t unusual - no – to see the Aes Sedai quiet, observant. But now, anytime Lan passed near her on camp after countless hours training Rand to master the sword fight, his eyes lingered a bit more just in case she looked back. Just in case she wanted to open up.
For a while, the Malkieri considered that this new journey of Rand as the Dragon Reborn worried her more. They both knew that the boy had grew into his own skin. He now knew his place, and therefore, their place as well. They were meant to help and follow, not order – and they found it very confusion for him to understand order from guidance. It didn’t take long for the one who knew her the longest to find that there were more to the reason behind her vacant stared and wild feelings, unmatched to anything Moiraine has ever felt in the past few years.
Y/N stood there on the sidelines of everything. When they left Tar Valon and a broken White Tower Behind, she was there with her own Green Ajah, wardless after the battle. When Rand decided to walk The Spine and find the Aiel Waste, she was the first to agree to stay with the group. While Rand and Lan were being observer by the Blue Ajah, she was helping Egwane with her bruises just a few steps backs. When they both went to speak with the Wise One, she kept an eye out on the Aiel camp, back to them but still close. When Moiraine asked for permission to enter the Rhuidean, one step was taken inside the tent, and it was hers. It was her arms Moiraine fell into after leaving it, dirty, torn apart, eyes wide and scared. Not Lan could break into her. Not Rand could talk to her. But Y/N never needed words near the Lady.
Their story was fragmented into two. One part of it came before it all. Before Rand. Before the Dragon. Before their Duty. Moiraine used to be so lively, with a smile that would destroy kingdoms. For some reason, Y/N felt like she would have made the house Damodred thrive more than anyone before her with that same dammed smile. But, she chose that life. The one that started with rubbing floors and pans, and evolved to shared beds and soft drinking at night. The promises they made that time were endless and real, coming from two hearts that were not ready to feel their bond falter. Moiraine once dreamed of showing Y/N the world, and the Green Ajah herself knew they would conquer it hand in hand.
Then, it came the second part. After the birth of the Dragon. Aes Sedai weren’t meant to find love, let alone in each other. It was one of the greatest pains their duty could provide, simply because there was no warmth guaranteed. And they felt it the day after when Moiraine and Lan left Tar Valon to search for Rand, and Y/N stayed in the empty shared room (her room) alone. It was needed. One to go, one to stay. Two halves that let go of so much but were kept together, tied by one secret.
Now there was nothing. No breaking point. No separations or duty that felt stronger that the feeling of Y/N’s hand on her body as the fire grew in the distance. The younger’s eyes counted yet again the number of people around the Aiel camp. Lan glanced at them, feeling the shared comfort Moiraine felt in her lover’s embrace. Titles were also long gone, and there was so much between the lines that they lost about each other’s growth, but it did not matter. Moiraine reached out, her hand touching the one that rested upon her middle, two serpent rings clashing against one another. Y/N shifted lightly, unaware that the Sedai was still awake after the long day.
“You should rest, love.”
Moiraine grinned weakly, fingers pressing Y/N more now.
“Love, huh?” the husky voice flowed, and they finally found each other's eyes with a soft glance that only the understanding of two long lost lovers would offer. "I missed hearing that."
“You have always been my love, Moiraine.” she answered simply and honestly, not wavering one bit.
Just as gentle as the environment created by their bodies flushed, Y/N wrapped her finger along a wild strand of her dark hair, hiding it behind her ear. So much had changed. One, they knew all of each other battle scars. What made the other coil. Crumble. Now, just at a simple glance, she could see thousands of tiny marks that she never met. And yet, with all of the changes, she could still see it all in Moiraine. All her worries flying around inside those pristine blue eyes. All the things that she held prisoned against the tip of her tongue and didn’t say.
“ What did you see there?”
The brunet stilled, eyes revoltingly amused as if she didn’t expect to be asked about something she managed to hide so well. Y/N smiled sheepishly, aware. It took a moment, but the Aes Sedai didn’t run away as she usually did. She stayed there, hand sliding along Y/N middle in search for words that didn’t quite come with the same poise she always had. It wasn’t needed between them.
“ All the turns of the Wheel. I’ve seen so many possibilities. Things that might have been, things that can be. I might know how all of this will come to when needed, but...it doesn’t mean I'll be ready.”
“ You will be.” Y/N pulled her in, a soft kiss resting against her hair. “You’ve always been, love. You have made it this far. Rand is save because of you.”
Moiraine looked back at the fire pit where said boy was resting with Egwane and Aviendha. He was stronger now, and even more stubborn. She was ready to die for him if it was what the Wheel wanted her to.
“I also saw us.” she chose instead of opening up about the cruelty of their yet to come future. Y/N took interest on it, laughing softly as she held her warm cheek against her palm, wait and curiosity in her big bright eyes. “In a turn of the Wheel in which we chose not to fulfill this duty.”
“Did we travel a lot?”
“We did...we were so happy, love. We traveled for years and ended up on a small home. Cobblestones and wood near the Taren river. Just like we wanted...”
She blinked at Moiraine, a sweet and hopeful smile on her lips. The Aes Sedai didn’t need to give in the details of anything else. Upon listening to a future they never had - a happy one - she sensed that it was something they would never have. The Wheel would never allow it. And yet, there they were. Together again. Y/N let her senses be consumed by the natural scent of Moiraine skin as she pulled her back into her.
This time, the wind wept for them both as the Green whispered.
Summary: After the unsuccessful path to complete Rand's mission as the Dragon Reborn and months of research (and running from her own life) Moiraine returns to Tar Valon with one single thing in her mind: making things right with Ahrim. [ Can be read as part of the same universe as Found. ]
Warnings: Hurt; comfort.
Word Count: 1.8kish
As the sunlit White Tower grew distant by the great lake keeping Moiraine away from it, all the hundreds of small yellow lights coming from the oh so known rooms of it came into view. It was beautiful, if not nostalgic. Coming home was different from leaving it. Detaching herself from the painful reality of embracing the truthfully rebel mission of helping the Dragon Reborn. Or rand, at this very point. The spoiled little brat whose life, she knew, changed forever. For some corrupted reasoning, her mind now could only think of him as a lost child whose entire world crashed down, on her own arms. The great Sedai didn't quite decide if she blamed herself for leaving the other kids, as much as she blamed herself for leaving Ahrim there.
The tips of her slender fingers trailed down to her shoulders, just above the colarbone. There, even over the fabric of the blueish shirt, the faint feeling of the scar left from the healed wound held her steady, even when there was another wound made, waiting to be healed. Not feeling Lan was driving her crazy. Not touching the Source was pushing her to the edge, but the mark left by the green-eyed girl's previously reckless use of the One Power made her sane. Safer. More focused.
As she had enough of longing for something so close, the Blue Ajah turned to peek at the formed camping. There, her once Warder sat broody as ever, only listening to the others talk. Her two sisters and the man, trained just as Lan seemed to undestand more than anyone that she needed time. And that, more than so, she needed to head back to home. To the girl she left there before heading into the Last Battle. The girls she avoided, ashamed of her own state.
"Everything will be fine." she felt the man move beside her after a few minutes of staring into the fire. "She knows of your responsibilities."
"And so have you told me many times before." there was no humor in her voice, but a faint smile adorned her pale lips. She was painfuly aware of how much she was pushing him away. But Moiraine knew how headstrong he was, and where he would go to keep her safe. Following her into death. She couldn't allow it. She wouldn't. "Do you perhaps feel like she was devoured by my sisters?"
"Oh, no. Ahrim stood up for herself all her life. She is just as stubborn as you are. I am sure she is quite alright."
The Blue Ajah kept those words short. It was not that she didn't trust their companions; she didn't trust anyone. Mainly so when the once Wilder was the matter. Something so close as home. Much more then Cairhien ever was. More than the Tower could ever be. Just as much as Lan once was before it all crashed down.
And thinking of it all made a bitter taste spread around the Damodred's mouth.
Had Ahrim become a 'once home' too?
[ . . . ]
They left the camping early in the morning. The sun was bearly there, the foggy dawn with an impending risk of rain clouding it from shining. They were awfully close, and crossing Tar Valon was faster then expected. If the night before hadn't prepared them for what was to come, then nothing would.
Moiraine and Lan found themselves settled in a in close by. The two sisters were tasked with finding what they needed from the great politics inside of that place.
Rumors spread like a plague. Moiraine, the banned Aes Sedai, ripped from the White Tower, was in the great city.
While the two brown sisters visited the walls of the loyal library of the White Tower, Lan made sure that the most important task of them all was delivered. He was not banned from that suffocating place and, although he had two and a half friend still residing in that place, a shadow of green Ajah followed him suit along the long corridors of the novices yard.
" You won't be able to find her here, dear friend. ", Alanna ofered. Her hand was mindlessly handling some sort of fruit as she tried to keep up with his large steps, but the fire in her eyes was made by curiosity. " I did my best to keep an eye on them, but all of the three are extremely volatile. Egwane hopelessly careful, Ahrim painfuly careless, Nyneve plainly uninterested. But i have to admit, sometimes, that carelessness is..."
" Where is she, Alanna?", Lan said.
The Green Ajah gave him a side smile, almost too happy for his liking. The girls from the Two Rivers were another thing. Ahrim, on the other hand, was too important. More important than an Ta'veren in Moiraine's perspective. He truly didn't care as long as they were save.
"She's in the Accepted yard."
[ . . . ]
Ahrim felt him before he could speak. It was truly some sort of ability that Lan would praise her for. Perhaps some other time, when her big green eyes didn't tear past his soul with a different type of gleam. A tired one. Exhausted.
Unlike the first time they met, when Ahrim almost slid his throat, she jumped from her place, seated under a three in one of the many gardens, and hugged him like the Warder was the only safety she knew. He was, in some ways. The two girls Alanna condescendingly pushed towards her were nice, but they were a unity. The former Wilder was...alone. She has always been. She would always be. But eight there she wasn't, because Lan hugged her back and gifted her with a small laugh.
" You're alive. You're fine..." her hand searched for something. Another fear crossed her face. Lan knew how to read it.
" She is also alive. And fine." he looked at her properly. Dressed in white. Hair up. Like a good girl. Not a Wilder. Not Ahrim. But something like Ahrim. " She wishes to see you. Out of the Tower. "
The man half expected things to be easy. But not as easy as it was when her nod was all the answer it was needed, and a quick but authorized scape was made, away from the Red's eyes.
When they came to the fancy like inn, Moiraine was already monitoring their steps into the city and up the stairs. Her heart felt heavy till her blue eyes saw her. It was something missed all along; being able to look at her Ahrim. But she was far from the girl she once knew. It became clearer as she climbed up the stairs and met the Blue in a private balcony, Lan being left behind.
A moment of silence made the distance a little bigger than it already was. Ahrim was breathless from the way from the Tower to meet Moiraine, but the Blue was breathless from the words and feelings creeping around her stomach and throat. It felt like ages. She was no longer the same Sedai the Wilder saved and fell for. The nights they shared traveling before the break were just a hazy memory she so dearly held. The only thing apart from Lan that still kept her grounded. She wished she was still, somehow, what Ahrim longed for.
" You came back." was the only thing that made the silence short. Ahrim held a hurt in her eyes that for some reason didn't made it's way into the soft spoken words offered to Moiraine. "I promised I would."
The White dressed woman stepped closer. Ahrim felt herself bubbling, burning. Months of training and Moiraine still could get her to be an uncontrolled mess.
" Did you? As far as i remember, you left while i was sleeping beside you. "
The clock ticked inside her own brain. She messed it up. She always did. It was her own curse ever since that day with Siuan. Sacrifice her life, her wishes, her passions, her love, in order to help the Dragon Reborn. She was failing yet again. Not only with him, away and hidden, but with herself.
" I thought it would be easier. " she heavily muttered, looking away. It was too much. Those pretty, big, painful green eyes. "Thought it would hurt you less. "
" Well." a pause. "Where did it get you? 'Cause it felt much more painful. Spending nights thinking nothing was worth it. Feeling like i mean nothing to you, hating your guts for leaving without a single note. Not one kiss of goodbye. No actual promises of coming back. I hated you, Moiraine. I hated you and still worked my way into that...awful place just to make you proud. Stupidly so."
Moiraine glanced up, meeting those green hues again. If was a stinging pain how those words were used. Hate. Awful. Goodbye.
" I'm proud of you." she chose.
"I don't really care if you are. I've done it enough. I care to know. Did i ever mean something to you?"
A single breath was taken. Sharing nights with Ahrim taught the Blue a lot. She was strong, stubborn, restless. But she was, above all, sensitive.
And Moiraine was all that, but nothing at the same time. She had shown her a collection of moments of love and partnership. It was something Moiraine lacked. The ability to say and show all the lines of her heart. She would not consider herself to me misunderstood, but rather completely incapable of a sincerity and vulnerability that would guarantee Ahrim something like love. But how much more could the Cairhien hide? She had lost everything, but Ahrim was there. And she would never risk to lose her again.
" Something?" she stepped closer and reached out. Her slender fingers running through Ahrim's hair, taking it down to the familiar waves she loved. " I spent two decades of my life traveling in search of a purpose I always thought it was mine. But it wasn't. I realized that when I first saw you, with my irritability and weakness. I could spend another two decades looking for a different mission, but nothing would give me half the happiness I felt with you. "
She visibly saw Ahrim melt. A sweet smile adorned her features as Moiraine pulled her closer. Automatically, Ahrim's arms hugged her neck. It felt like a puzzle completed.
" I'm deeply sorry for the pain i put you through. But don't ever question how much you mean to me."
Ahrim wished for something. For three words she herself said too many times inside her mind. But it was quite alright. It was more than Moiraine has ever said. It was that easy to forgive her.
" If you ever leave once more, you might wish to never see me again. "
Moiraine laughed.
" I wouldn't dream of it."
Hi guys! It's been a while! I started this blog posting two Moiraine fics and decided, since TWOT ls back, why not repost this from Wattpad here? I personally really like this one, and hope you enjoy it too. Feel free to send in some Moiraine requests!
Summary: Agatha comes and goes in fear of hurting her loved one. Could she learn how to love without pain?
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort i guess. English not being my first language.
Word count: 1.4K!
“Where there’s truth there’s bound to be pain. People get older, but some things don’t change.”
A force of nature, her way of coming and going was just as violent as the wind. Her love, as weird as it may be, poured down like a summer rain. It lifted the burden and, yet, echoed into the warmth of a silent day.
Agatha was, to put it in other words, hard to love. Not that loving her came in hard. It was, actually, the easiest thing you’ve felt in your life. Even since the first smile, scrutinous so, your skin only knew how to touch hers. It wasn’t only carnal, at all. At times, the centuries old witch would appear out of nowhere with a softness to her eyes that could only be seen as longing. She missed you, told you that herself. Yet, after two or three days, she would go. Disappear into her world of mischief and secrets that you weren’t allowed to enter.
But still, your longed for her every day till she came back. With the same open heart. With the same smell and heat that welcomed her for as long as she wanted to stay.
It could be hurtful for someone less understanding. Someone whose life was a burden itself. Even with the number of issues anybody could have, she was the solemn reason why nothing could ever get to you. Her love protected, healed.
And that was something she could never see.
You’ve noticed this once when she was back at your house after the longest she had been away. Three weeks. Almost a month and your worried face as you welcomed her was the one thing she promised herself not to see again. As you settled on your couch after a homesick meal (that one dish of yours she could never get sick of), she gently ran her slender fingers against your lighter hair, twisting the locks around her index before letting it go and restarting it again.
“What is going on in that pretty head of yours?”
Her eyes roamed your relaxed face. Something unreadable passed between her eyebrows and you eyed her calmly.
Agatha laughed ever so slightly, shaking her head dismissively, but still providing some sort of answer.
“Just how pretty you are...” she paused, pursing her lips in a straight line, like there was something really bothering her core. Something only the vulnerability of so much time apart from you could make her feel. “It’s honestly a shame how...how I am breaking you to bits.”
Her words took a while to sink in. Brows frowned, you kept your head in its place on her lap, not daring to leave. That idea, for the first time, became palpable, and absurd.
“Breaking me?” you questioned, the genuine confusion settling down. Agatha was the best thing of your life. “You think you’re breaking me?”
As she looked down at you, something flashed again. Like the moment passed, burried itself deep within her. Like she’d said more than enough, and nothing more came out of her mouth instead of loud moans of your name at night and general praises during the next morning before she disappeared again.
That was too many weeks before. And just like the last time, Agatha Harkness seemed to be on her personal mission to make your encounters more and more rare. Three weeks from the last time were nothing compared to the now one month and two days without as much as a word.
Your last proper conversation lingered in your head the whole time. Even away, it was always like that. Agatha would consume every living second of your existence, but this time, with the confession lingering a bit louder than her voice and her warmth. It was as if this time, your heart was ensuring you would remember the reason if she never appeared again.
The thoughts were wild, careless, hurtful for the days to come after that. Time, itself, didn’t make it easier. But when the third day into the second month without her came, the sound of her footsteps behind your seated form infront of the fireplace echoed against the soft rum of Christian Kuria singing in the same melody as the embers that danced just there, reflecting light in your eyes. She always smelled the same, but the stablished winter and the snow that coated her dark hair made her smell a bit woodier. Glancing back above your shoulder, her blue eyes glistened down at you with unshed tears. Your eyes lowered and even with your smile, she knew that what she was about to say would, indeed, break you once and for all.
“You didn’t come for the usual.” you started, glancing back at the fireplace. Slowly, Agatha lowered herself to the floor, siting by your side with no intention to stay for much longer. A moment passed, Harkness tried to gather her thoughts, but it felt harder with you right there. “Just...tell me. Was it worth it? Did I make you even just a tiny – little bit happy?”
Your gaze fell on her. Agatha felt her heart squeeze, twist, turn. Love for her was never fair. Never painless. And yet, all the pain she had ever felt with you was now, caused by her own fears and wicked concepts of life. For her, she was evil. A dark force that was bound to corrupt you.
“I can’t stay, love. I wish I could but...I am not the person you think I am. I am not capable of this. Of loving you the way you deserve.”
You gave her a look, but took a moment to think of what she meant.
“You think I don’t know who you are, Agatha?” you asked, and for a split second, she fell mute to your intense eyes and the strength you held without even trying. “I’ve known you for the moment we met. Witch killer. The succubus witch. Many bodies on your bag. But none of that ever made me love you less. Or be mistaken by the haziness of your past. I chose to see you. Who you are to me.”
“People don’t change like this, darling. Not even with the most deserving person by their side. I’ll hurt you...”
Your body moved a bit, turning to her for the first time. There was no intention of touching her like all the times one of your needed comfort.
“You have been coming and going for years. This house, my soul, are embedded with you. Every moment. Every laugh. I never asked for this, but my life has become ours. And any other person would be fuming at your right now. Crying, screaming. But I’m here, just trying to make you understand that life is hurtful. Wherever there’s truthfulness, openness, there’s bound to be even a bit of pain. You are feeling it right now. I can see it...” you scooted closer and touched her face, thumb gently reaching to caress under her eye, where a stray tear scaped as she closed it. “But I trust you, Agatha. I trust that you love me even with no word said. And I trust that even with the things you have done, even with the person that you are outside our sacred space... You’ll care for me.”
“Darling...” she tried, but her voice cracked, horse and emotional. For the first time, Agatha cried. Fully.
“You know I'm right. Deep down, you know it.” carefully, your forehead touched hers. She held you closer, as if letting go would break her too. “You are doing it right now, aren’t you? Trying to protect me from you. But let me tell you, my love...I don’t need protection from you. Whatever happens, i trust you. I will remain.”
Agatha’s nails dig into your wrist as you held her face. Eyes opening to meet yours, a sparkle felt too hopeful to contain. Agatha knew she could never change who she was. And love, more times than not, tried to forcedly tame her. But not you. You held all her complexity between your palms, and loved it all. Maybe that was why she feared this. Tearing you apart. But as she let your words consume her, her shoulders fell, her lips gently pecked yours and she sniffled. Tamed. She was tamed. But not the way she feared to be.
She would hurt anyone to keep you safe. To keep you with her.
“Don’t go.” you simply asked as she pulled you in, adjusting your body flushed to hers on her lap.
“I won’t, Darling.” she kissed your hair, hugging you close before whispering like a secret she was ready to share. “I love you.”
If it is okay, can I request Agatha Harkness x reader? Reader calling Agatha a term of endearment while they are messing around and Agatha freezes, heart thudding loudly in her chest because Agatha is surprised by the nickname. Reader proceeds to call Agatha that again, saccharine sweet with a smile full of love (if you can add smut, I’ll be very happy)
Summary: Jokes about the confusing status of your friendship with Agatha unveils a newfound dynamic between the two of you.
Warnings: Fluff with a very subtle mention of smutty times (wasn't in the mood for he whole thing, sorry :c). English not being my first language.
Word count: 1.5K.
The coven gathered around Agatha’s living room. The house, after many months, was finally back together and redecorated as she enjoyed. No more of Agnes in the bits and pieces, but rather a collection of small details that exuded everything that Agatha Harkness was; a witch surviving history itself, exuberant, full of dark colors and natural particularities that danced upon shelves with pots of herbs and dried flowers, firelights with a warm yellow glow making the walls breathe as if life was given to them.
Lilia was sat at the armchair side while Billy, Jen and Alice, the later being the only one at the floor, stood across from you and Agatha, the table full of snacks and whine glasses separating you. The night of games and chattering died down slowly as a soft hum of laughs and shared conversations made space to the swift of the midnight into the dawn. Agatha was there, almost thrown against the back of the sofa as her legs were over your tights. Your hand pressed pointedly against the soft skin lf her ankles as your fingertipes traveled mindlessly up her calf.
Looking back at Agatha, recounting something you’ve heard before on your own private covenless parties when the rest was unavailable, the gleam in her eyes was almost screaming at you. Seeing her there, smiling to those same people she swore to get rid of — including yourself — made you realize again that Agatha Harkness had found her people. She was carefree. Unapologetically truthful and open with the collection of woman (and a boy) like she’d never been before. Most of them, meeting her for the first time, had a figure of her in their minds that made them suspicious while walking the road and maybe even a bit afterward. They had grown to love her just as much as she’d grown to love them in her crocked way. But not you. As unfair as it was to your own well-being, you’d trusted the goodness inside of Agatha from the first encounter, hours before entering the road. Something in her eyes glared at you then... a desperation, a seek of help that was beyond her powers. You hoped for her. Yearned to be able to see that blissful shimmering dot in her own existence come to life under the right circumstances. Back then, the recently built Coven called you empathetic, soft, and innocent. And perhaps you were full of empathy but, even then, before getting to share the moments that came to build a friendship full of beautiful moments, you knew that your heart was on a path of loving Agatha more than any of those Witches could ever love her. But as silently as the feeling came, silently you stood, enjoying what this new life gave you. What you asked for the road, itself: not being alone anymore
Teen snickered at Jen’s comment of the stain of wine on Lilia’s shirt, and as your tipsy self chocked on your own glass trying not to laugh to hard, Agatha’s body searched for yours with a playfully pat on the back.
“Careful darling. Don’t want you dying on me.”
The comment made you laugh even harder, eyes forming small droplets of tears. Her fingers gently cared for them, whipping them away. The moment stood with lightness before William’s voice erupted in the room in tangled words.
“For fuck’s sake…you too really look like a married couple.”
It was a recurrent joke inside the Coven. Even with your age gap with teen being the smallest among you all, it was not occasionally that you and Agatha would play the part of parenting him into being a young man with principals, but also a great witch. While doing so, you would partner with each other like you belonged together for that task, but a lot of others too.
You had convinced yourself that Agatha was the thing the road gave you. Even with all the other girls, she had become the most beautiful constant of your life. Where she failed, you made her succeed. Where you fell, she would be there to catch.
“Oh please. You act like you don’t know we belong together. Right, dear? ” she flattered while playfully messing around, smiling while running her fingers through your hair. If felt nice, and you grinned, gently laying your head against her hands.
Agatha looked back at you, asking for a backup as she always did. You laughed lowly.
“They don’t get it, my love.”
The whole room lost its colors. Agatha’s eyes searched for yours as if you had just pronounced a wedding vow. There was something in her eyes that no one could see. But you did. Happiness but, also, shock. You would always call each other dear, darling. But not ever the word love was used. Let alone with how your voice claimed her in the most precious way. The older witch felt her insides burning, giddiness making her shoulders bounce as her whole face flushed. Agatha could listen to her heartbeat and feel it in her bones as she tried to control her breathing. The room was not silenced as the environment that resolved around the two of you was.
Agatha, blushing and a complete mess, broke the stare contest when your smile became too much for her. And by that time, Alice was already trying to guide a drunk Lilia to the front door and into her car, while Teen promised to drive Jen back home.
“See you on Monday for potions practice!” was all you both heard from Billy as the door closed, Agatha finally getting up from the couch.
She tried to engulf herself with the task of tidying up the space, but you knew she was trying to run from being confronted by you. So, instead, with a swift motion of your hand, the magic you possessed swayed around the room, fixing everything for her. Agatha eyed you, a soft, thankful, yet guilty smile at her lips.
“You know. You also have magic. Could’ve done the same.” You raised from your place on the couch, standing face ti face to her. Agatha knew what was coming when your usual bratty smile adorned your lips. “But you rather run from me, don’t you, my love?”
She breathed out shakily, blue eyes fixed on your smaller form as if there was something painful keeping her just millimeters away from breaking the fragile wall that separated friendship and relationship. Agatha felt she could bear another heartbreak if it was with you. And you felt that Agatha could never look at you the way she was looking right now. Yet, you saw it. The longing. The fire burning inside. The small tilt to her head as she heard those words again.
“Don’t. Don’t call me that.” She said fiercely like never before. Never to you. But all her attempts of pushing you away resulted in warm hands around her face.
“Why?” Your voice traced, hazel eyes pure and lovingly, like an open door. “What if you are, indeed, my love?”
“Pretty girl…” she called ten times softer now. There was a frown between her eyebrows that only ever appeared when there was an intrinsic self-doubt. Agatha felt you there. Felt the need. The bursting of her feeling, growing tired of being kept at bay. “This…you are too precious to love me.”
“That wasn’t my question, Agatha.” You stood, hand griping the hairs on her nape, pulling her to you. Harkness eyes darkened, and she knew, there and then, that whatever distance she dreamed to keep with you, it never really existed.
She wanted to scream and cry. Love, for her, was complicated. And painful. And you weren’t any of those things. She couldn’t break you. Yet, as you held her that close, bodies flushed, the fears and restraining flew off her own road. Funny thing how the heart is such and uncontrollable little bitch, she thought while hungrily catching you into her arms as her mouth pressed to yours.
Agatha was fervent in claiming your soul as hers. It was as if her kiss, sweet and bitter with the taste wine, outlined every nuance of your existence. Her hands touched the fragile but infinitely provocative body that you hid from her sight under a vintage dress. With her palms, the witch recognized the curves that even without knowing, she had dreamed of for months. The kiss wavered between one touch or another that Agatha spread across your thighs. Your dress was lifted along with her fingers in a rhythmic rhythm that seemed more like torture than the way her lips skillfully immersed themselves in yours.
Agatha expected you to push her away, but when it was your body that pushed her onto the same couch, she knew it was over. All her carefully constructed control was over. Your gaze looked down at her with a display of longing and desire that didn’t fit the same innocence of her precious girl. Always so sweet, so untouchable. There, Agatha saw you as a woman. A beautiful woman who claimed her as she would claim you.
Maybe she could break you. As long as you intended to break her too.
I rebloged my last post about opening the requests for Agatha, but I guess I should do this one too. As said, I'll be writing for Rio and Agathario too, both with reader inserted. Feel free to ask.
On the same note, I do still have 3 requests for Agatha and I'm slowly making my way across them. In my country the semester ends in December, and I'm taking my master's degree while working full time, so I hope you all can be patient with me. Sending much love to all of you! 💕
Request? No no. But I promise I'll work on some requests soon.
Summary: Agatha is no stranger to pain and loss. Yet, somehow, even the thought of losing you is too much to bear.
Warnings: Hurt/comfort. Sickness. Mentions of death (not Rio this time). English not being my first language. Poor ending skills.
Word count: 1.1K.
The Three of Swords:
Grief, heartbreak, and sorrow.
Agatha Harkness was a totem of pain. Most wouldn’t know or believe it to be true. The Witches community could only measure her to their own rules and deception. She was a killer. A heartless, powerful and unruly woman, born to no good deeds.
But for a green eyed, younger witch, she was everything but a bad person.
You would always be reminded of a ghost memory of a smiling Nicholas, laughing in a field of dandelions as his mother chased him. Agatha was carefree then. Her previous Coven a memory left behind and her actions justified by the sweet smile little Nicky would give her.
Agatha never told the full deal with her son’s existence till he was gone while the other woman, still getting to know the Harkness witch, held her by Nicky's grave. It was now lost somewhere in the forests of Massachusetts, long gone and rusted, but his passing held a strong place in her heart still.
Centuries might pass, but it was certain that nothing would hurt her more than that. Not her mother’s hate. Not her trial by the people who she was raised with. Not the many people she lost along the way.
But one day, as you fell sick to the bed, something as strong as her son’s death came close to hurting her.
You laid there, the same green eyes tired as something twisted your health. As Agatha cared for you in the coziness of her newfound house in Westview, you grumbled as the whole contents of your stomach flooded from your mouth into the bucked Agatha held close to you. Her soup, your favorite, completely gone now.
“Doll..we should see a doctor. You haven’t left the bed for three days.” She argued, trying to fix your hair behind the left ear.
A laugh scaped you as your hands, damp and cold, grasped at her touch to make it last. Agatha’s fingers stayed there, slowly moving to touch your right cheek.
“I am a witch, love, much like you. Doctors will do me no good.”
She ruffled, but as her hands felt the hotness that irradiated from your skin, her eyes roamed over the pale face in front of her. Agatha’s thoughts were much like a fortress in the night. Hidden. Protected. But not for you. She felt at ease by your side after so many years. Trust was the one thing only you could give her. And then, as you saw her eyes glistening under the soft glow of the bedside lamp, her mind presented itself like an open book.
She feared for your health. The fever and weakness of your body reminded her so much of her last night with Nicholas. Nothing would hurt as much as it did…but losing you to the same fate as him was painful. A pain that not even with all her sorrows and heartbreaks, she was ready to go through again.
“Aggy…” You whispered and when your sweet tone scaped weekly, the bucket was left in the floor as she tried to scape your gaze so the tears rolling down her cheeks wouldn’t be seen. “Love, look at me.”
The weak request acted like knife to her fragile heart. Agatha was tough on the outside, but not at all on the inside. Her gaze softened as her eyes, glazed and red, found yours. You reached out even with your whole body begging for some rest, and without any complaints, she quickly found her place in the bed you shared. She needed comforting, but her body was the one to hold yours. Your lips found their way to her collarbone with sweet kisses untill you reached her face. You nuzzled her cheek, hand gently holding her face to bring her to face you in the comfort of the bubble you both shared. Agatha sniffled, softly tightening her hold to your as if to stop you from fading away. Understanding her needs, you pressed flushed to her, breathing deeply.
“I’m here, my love. And I am not going anywhere.” You reassured. Agatha opened her eyes, gazing at you from the few centimeters between you both.
“You’re so sick, Doll. It worries me that you…you will…”
“Go meet him?”
The way your words stung left her breathless. Agatha had a difficult time speaking up about Nicholas even since. But while she failed, you didn’t. It was important for her to still mention him. To treat him like he deserved: an important part of her that, although painful, was beautiful.
She nodded, and you simply smiled.
“If I was to meet him…know that he would be loved even there.” Her fearful eyes met yours again, but you continued. “But I am not to be dead now. I’m just simply ill. It shall pass. Like everything. Trust me on this one, baby. I’m going to be just fine.”
Agatha breathed out shakily, not noticing how much it affected her.
“I cannot lose you too.”
“You won’t. Ever.”
[ . . . ]
As the morning came, the energy shared between the two seemed to act like a love spell. The curing type rather than the bonding one. Stirring awake, the warmth of Agatha’s arms around your body was missing. You could wait and rest, but the ache and the dizziness were pretty much gone.
You raised, brushed your teeth even, and managed to find a messy haired Agatha quietly moving around the kitchen. She seemed busy with a tea in her hand and potion tools all over the place as something boiled in her ironed cauldron. As she looked up at your figure, her tea was almost spilled all over the countertop as she rushed to your side.
“Doll, what are you doing up?” she touched you, analyzing your whole state as you laughed softly.
“I felt better, so I came down for breakfast. “ You gathered her euphoric hands to kiss her knuckles. “But you…what are you doing?”
Agatha looked over her work station for a minute before going back to you.
“I had a crazy dream-memory about a potion that I used to make for Nicky so he could feel better. I thought it may work better for you.” Her voice trailed behind her thoughts. “You feel better?”
Softly, your hugged her neck with your arms gently bringing her closer.
“Yeah. Not a hundred percent, but much better.”
She breathed out, relived. But even so, she gently walked with you closer to one sip of the potion already ready for you.
“Still. Take this. Can’t have you feeling worse again.”
You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered.
“Only because I love you.”
As you chugged down the contents of the cup, Agatha observed you from her place at your side, fingers gently stroking your waist. Seeing the color back to your pretty features calmed her chaotic mind, and she was reminded once again how important you were to her. When the potion was done, she pulled you closer, kissing every bit of skin that you showed.
“I love you more, stubborn girl.”
You were going to get better. You wouldn't be her sorrow.
Warnings: Fluffy and fluffy. Very small...i just wanted some self comfort.English not being my first language.
Word count: About 500 words.
Sly and slender fingers cupped yours from behind. The soft blow of her irritation grasped every fiber of your being with the uncontrollable shiver that ran down your spine.
Agatha held a special place for you in her torn heart. Even after years of being a lone wolf amidst paths and trees, there was no amount of effort she could make to push you away. She had begged for you to stay put. To live the perfect little life you could have, away from trouble, away from trials and misfitting. And then again, you proved her over and over again, the there was no place you’d rather fit then right by her side.
The yellow lighting flowing around Agatha’s cabin, lost and tainted in the middle of the woods, became a comforting atmosphere. Inside the thick stoned walls with logs in between, the coldness of the night was left to wander alone around the property. It wasn’t exactly a big cabin, of even a house if you had to be completely honest. But it was enough to bring life to the endless nights training potions and spells.
“Are you doing this wrong on purpose?” she breathed out, taking the metal spoon from your hand before you could use the herbs she set out for you. They were hard to find, and therefore, the process had to be perfect. “For fucks sake!”
As her frustration grew wilder, bigger, more hurtful, no words came from your mouth. It was not always that she lost her patience. But Agatha should know that the little Dove she caught on the side of a trail wasn’t as innocent as everyone believed her to be. A soft laugh scaped her nose as she glared at you, questioning if you were, in fact, testing her very small and very fragile good nature.
You grew closer, the magic you’ve practiced acting up just easily enough to put out the fire heating up half of the potion on the cauldron. “ Y/N”, she warned, but her eyes were already soft as your bodies flushed together. Your stomach touched hers as you pressed further, standing on your toes to be eye to eye. Agatha raised her eyebrow, but her hands were quickly freed from the kitchen tool she once held. Instead, she intercepted your hips, fingers digging to you covered skin as if it was exposed to her own. The older witch held your gaze with her strong, adamant figure, irises burning your face as if you were overstepping. But you knew you weren’t. Not with her. “You, pretty girl, are a menace. Infuriatingly so.”
As her words rang, your nails slid down her nape, small strands of hair detangling with your touch as her wild, long hair was adjusted behind her shoulders. Her face was cleared now, giving you space to touch her cheeks with a soft kiss, one at a time, before booping her nose with your own.
“Well, i can agree with that.” You traced lowly, eyes fixed on hers. “But you do hate peace, don’t you?”
Agatha smiled, a softness to her features no one besides you and her late son ever saw. Harkness presses further into you, almost hugging your soul. But as you thought she would agree with you, a soft, lavender-tasted kiss anchored you to her entire being, her affable tone blissfully caressing your heart.
“You’re my peace, Dove. And i love you very much.”
I saw your post about Agatha's request so I was thinking something about maybe westview agatha! x witch maximoff reader, like reader is a younger sister of wanda also under her spell, and while she was in Westview, she and Agatha fell in love, Agatha became obsessed and totally in love like never before, and maybe something like when Agatha reveal herself and fight with Wanda, reader step up and has to decide if she leave her, or save her from Wanda.
THANK YOU!
also sorry for any grammar mistakes, (English is not my mother language)
HAVE A NICE DAY! 😊
The making of "In Between" comes from this request. Thinking about doing a part 2 to fill out the rest of the details in this.
Summary: Wanda Maximoff's younger sister seems to have no place in the hex besides Agatha’s side.
Warnings: Fluffy; a bit of angst. My poor writing. I love Wanda but needed to portrait her like this for the plot. English not being my first language.
Word count: 1.2K.
Y/N Maximoff was a delight. A lively, powerful, rebellious, and carefree creature that echoed as someone so different from her older siblings. At least, that was the image Agatha Harkness had of her since the first time stepping into Wanda's made-up reality. A sweet little thing, ready to be made hers.
The younger witch didn't have a coherent part into that small city her sister held captive. Pietro has been dead for years, and even with Agatha’s poor casting of someone in his place, the Scarlett Witch held more care in her eyes for him than to Y/N. Her real and alive little sister. Agatha felt the need to protect you. To gather you into her own arms and never let go.
"Hey, Agnes. What's up?" The sweet voice of the youngest Maximoff elated her as Agatha stood by Wanda and Vision's door with a bottle of wine and what looked like a food container.
"Heard the Maximoffs were out and about. I decided to pay my favorite girl a visit." She stepped in, not caring to be invited. "Who in their right mind would leave such a pretty pet alone?"
Y/N's laugh scaped as her hand pushed the door closed. Agnes was the only happiness the move to Westview brought her. Yet, she couldn’t bring herrself to remember why she had decided to live with Wanda.
"I think you're the only one who thinks that way, Aggy."
The Maximoff's body flopped down on the couch as Agatha roamed around the kitchen she's been in many times before. Now, with the late nineties aesthetic, it felt easier to find what she needed to open the bottle.
"Why do you think so, dear?", Agnes asked, waltzing back into the living room with two glasses of red wine.
She reached for one, eyes now dedicated to gaze at the company for the night. "Oh, you know." Y/N moved her hand gently around her, and Agatha could swear whips of magic erupted from them in frustration. "Wanda is out with Vision, the boys and Pietro. The Maximoff's outing. Yet, here I am. Barely part of the family."
As Y/N grumbled, sipping the wine, Agatha smiled against the rim of her own glass, mind rapidly working.
"Oh, sweet girl. They love you. You know that. Wanda would never choose to leave you behind."
Her words seemed to wake something inside Y/N’s mind. As her eyes locked into Agnes', the young witch frowned, memories of Sokovia and the Maximoff twins leaving their younger sister in the hands of Hydra agents after fleeing. The puzzle pieces of memories also had the smell of burned cookies in the Avengers compound and Wanda grieving in the arms of a robot while Y/N suffered alone.
But just as they came, a stronger power pushed them out.
"Y/N?" She looked at Agnes."Where did you go?"
"Uhm..." She tried piercing things together, but her mind felt blank. "What were we talking about?"
"Wanda?"
"Oh, right." she sipped on the wine again. "You're right. She wouldn't choose that."
The happiness in your voice made Agatha’s stomach hurt. She thought for a moment that something inside you had remembered.
"Yes, sweetie. She wouldn't."
Agatha's inside twisted and turned. That precious girl, with the most mesmerizing eyes and bright personality was just another refugee of the excuse of a Scarlett Witch that was being written.
She scoffed at the thought, bitterness seeping from her mouth. The sound made Y/N look at her, the thick alcohol sliding down her throat. Her gaze was questioning, but Harkness' eyes were fixed on the movements she did to swallow. For a moment, as Agatha tried to look up at her eyes, a ghost of necessity lingered above her shoulders.
Y/N smiled then, and for the first time since meeting the younger Maximoff, she felt obsessed.
( . . . )
That feeling didn't vanish... or even subsided. In fact, it only grew stronger.
Agatha would stop by the Maximoff's home every day to bring the girl a sense of comfort and, almost always, she would be alone, playing the part of the perfect, quiet sister that hardly ever made Wanda lose her mind. Forgotten. Misplaced. A secondary part that no one actually cared about.
But Agatha did. And Agnes was always there.
There were many reasons as to why she wanted to play along Wanda's game. To pursue her. To enlighten her. To...steal her. But when looking at Y/N, all of that seemed so small in comparison. And even inside that wrecked reality of Wanda's, somehow, Y/N had enough of free will to choose to fall in love with Agnes.
"Argh, i wanna cry." Y/N cried out in another wine date. In Agnes' home, the effect of Wanda was not so overwhelming. The woman could, actually, feel something real.
"Cry? Why?" Agatha questioned, trying to reach for her. The space between them grew smaller by the time they saw each other. Now, on the same couch, Agnes' hands were stopped by Y/N, who quietly guided them to both sides of her face. The vulnerability on her irises pained Agatha as her thumbs caressed Y/N's cheeks. "Darling, what's it? Tell me."
Y/N closed her eyes, pouting as if she was really fighting the urge to cry. Maybe devouring two bottles of wine by her side wasn't a good idea.
"It's just..." She mumbled, only opening her eyes when Agatha held her a bit closer, almost touching their noses. Y/N felt as if she couldn't breathe. Her entire world crumbled when looking at Agnes like that. "You're so pretty, Aggy. And you're always here for me. And...and when you are this close, I feel like the only thing I want in this world..." She breathed out in a full smeared sentence. "Is to have you all to myself."
Agatha's digitals tingled with the need to sink her fingers and merge her skin with Y/N's. In all the centuries of her life, not once the sensation of such primal need crumbled the ever so calculatedly built walls of her existence. She eyed her with confusion, but then, with love. Y/N didn't need a second time to wonder what that meant when her lips crashed down onto hers. The sweet kiss was firstly a mere touch, but when the Maximoff's insides twisted and her fingers slid against the ones on her face, Agatha pulled her closer. There was an almost bestial growl that scaped the older woman, but her fingers gently stroke the other, bringing her in.
When they parted, their foreheads touched. Agatha had a smile that could light up the whole city of Westview. Y/N saw it up close, laughing slightly as she pressed the tip of her nose against Agnes'.
"Are you laughing at me, Dove?"
The nickname made Y/N raise an eyebrow, but that didn't stop her hand from cupping the nape of Agatha’s head, nails slightly running against it.
"I'm laughing with you." She answered, pecking Agatha's lips again. "I thought it would take you longer to kiss me."
"Were you betting how long i would take?"
"I was actually betting on how long I would take lose my patience. "
"If you knew I also liked you, why didn't you take the lead, Dove?" Agatha's hand took a strand of Y/N hair into her hands, twisting it. "Are you that stubborn.
"Don't you know me?"
Agatha laughed as she gazed at Y/N. There was a lot she didn't actually know about her, but she was okay to find out. Preferably outside her sister's influence, a problem the witch would have to figure out how to deal now. One thing she was sure: no matter what, she wouldn't let Wanda take you apart.
Can you do a Agatha x reader where reader gets terribly hurt while on the road or maybe back in Salem and Agatha is just a mess the whole time afraid of losing reader
Request that birthed "I will remain, love". I had so much fun with this.
Summary: Lilia's trial ends with an - almost - irreversible consequence for Agatha's lover.
Warnings: Hurt/comfort. Almost death experience. Mentions of blood, blades and death (aka Rio). Non canon. English not being my first language.
Word count: 2k and something.
The path narrowed as the Coven walked through it. Looking forward at the long-haired witch that had your heart, you felt that Agatha no longer held the confidence she once had while summoning the Witche's Road. Both of you knew, for sure, that the whole song was a catch. A nice, petty, centuries old trap Agatha created in hopes to gain enough power to bring Nicky back.
A witch’s life was never easy. Just as the world was a malleable cruel thing, so was the days that these powerful women had to go through. Things changed between almost four hundred years back and now, walking this makeshift magical road. Nothing was as it used to be. Yet, Agatha was the only constant in all of the eras of your life. One that didn’t need a real label for you to know that, no matter what happened, it was the two of you against the world.
As the time passed and your legs grew tired, your attention shifted to the teen boy. It wasn’t needed for Agatha to tell you that she, too, was suspicious he was the one manipulating all of that. Agatha was powerless, and you knew it wasn’t you. Jen, Alice and Lilia were powerful, but not enough to bend reality to fit their own agenda.
But Teen, or Billy, emanated strong ancient magic. It was applaudable how the seams between his mind and the reality were almost unnoticeable
“He doesn’t know.” you guessed, falling into Agatha’s steps as the rest of the coven stayed behind, carelessly discussing something trivial.
“What gave it away, love?” she smiled, but her mind was far, far away.
“He got himself deadly hurt. He would have to be insanely dumb to trust one of us would cure him.
“Maybe he is just a dumb boy...” Agatha started out playfully, but seeing your serious face, the shine in her eyes died. You hoped for it to come back. “I know. And this makes...everything harder.”
You felt the witch rambling inside, wishing to measure the weight of explaining her worries, but as she opened her mouth, a cold, sickining body passed between the two of you, harshly separating your shoulders. Rio's sinister smile echoed inside your mind, like she could indeed penetrate herself there. As the sharp blade of hers slid down the middle of her tongue, evil, inviting, you felt the path ahead tuneling before you.
“I see you in the next trial, Y/N.”
And right there, towering in front of both of you as Rio skipped happily towards it, was a dim lit castle with its imponent tower screaming at you. Your steps halted, and Agatha almost bumped into you. You couldn't notice as Rio’s aura still held you hostage there, but your partner, your companion, your constant, eyed you as if she could actually force you out of the road. She knew, you knew, but no one dared to say a thing, afraid of the consequences.
Inside the castle, the clothes changed drastically, almost as you were in a disney witches' reunion. A table of tarot reading stood in the middle of the room, and as Teen rounded the corner, Lilia stopped there.
‘It’s my trial. I should read it.”
There was no questioning, but as the first card was laid upwards on the table, a sharp sword crashed down right by your side. Arms full of worry pulled you in, and your body rested against a scared Agatha. Her heartbeat was rapid against your touch, but as you glanced at RIo, she was nowhere to be found. The celling, full of swords, was just now noticed as the trial’s count down began, lowering above the coven’s head.
“I think we need something more...” desesperadly, Agatha took the deck of cards from Lilia. “Imediate.”
She started to lay cards as if her life depended on it. And, at some point, it did. But card after card, mistake after mistake, more and more swords fell. Some not around you, but mostly too close to be safe.
“Agatha!” Teen screamed, stopping her. “It’s not by chance. This has to be done right.”
The deck of cards was, again, in Lilia’s hand. Even though she managed to find out who the reading reading was for, as the last card was placed and the celling stopped lowering, a heartless, mounstruous sound erupted around the room. Agatha looked behind, breathless, pushing you towards the exit that popped open.
“The Seven are here. Hurry. Everyone out!"
Lilia intended to be the last one out, but as Jen pulled her, there was only you, teen, and Agatha behind. You didn’t notice, but a quiet, sly snake rounded the corner of a pillar, morphing quickly into one of Agatha’s old nemeses. The scare made you tremble, steps a mess as you tried to block down an attack with your own powers. A flash of light sent you and them apart, and as the snake met the side of a blade, you met the other, both fallen from the trial. The sharp pain erupted, but looking behind, Agatha was as surrounded by another four of them. Lilia screamed something that only Teen managed to understand, and as he blasted both of you out, the main card was turned upside down, in time only for him to jump out of the door before the whole trial turned and screams of impaled witches were heard.
The instant died down. Nothing besides agitated breaths could be heard between all of the coven members. You, on the other side, could barely hear anything. Agatha’s voice calling for you was far away, and although you tried to answer, you choked in blood, the taste of the ironed fluid filling your mouth.
“What?” Teen asked Alice, who stared at him like a ghost was right above his shoulders. As he held you still, the protection witch could only point out to your own body falling against Billy’s, pale face, coughing blood till your whole figure hit the floor.
Agatha eyes were shining with tears. The leaves from the trees in Salem that spring were vivid, but not like her eyes. At that time, you couldn’t bring yourself to say something as deeply as “I love you” to the Harkness heir. And as your death seeped into your whole existence, the fear of losing her friendship felt...ridiculous. Her tears fell onto your body. Pierced through with Evanora Harkness’ magic for simply being her daughter support, you were sure that there was no better reason to die.
“Please, Sunshine. Stay with me. It will be okay.” Agatha cried and cried, cradling your body into her arms. Holding you for her dear life, your body slowly became more and more heavy against her lap.
“Shh..Aggy. Don’t cry.” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. There was no physical damage, but your insides rotted by the minute. “This is honestly the best option to die. In your arms, you know?”
She scoffed, trying to pull your head up as if a miracle would happen. She was not only sad and griefing but also mad and frustrated.
“Don’t be stupid. You’re not going to die.”
You regarded her tiredly, too tired to even speak. But you knew that there was no way death would collect you before Agatha was sure it wasn’t her fault. And how loved she was.
“Aggy...this is unfruitful. We both know it.” you swallowed your desperation to part ways with the living world. “Just hear me out, Angel. You were the best, best thing I could have in my life. I love you. I’ve always loved you. Don’t forget that. I would die a thousand times in your arms.”
She blinked, tears falling onto your forehead. Last time, your voice grounded her as her own magic saved your from death. But now, as Rio appeared again, there was nothing from you besides the blood that ran to the floor from a large perforation you suffered from falling against the tip of a sword without even noticing in all that commotion. Agatha blamed herself again. You were on the road because of her. Because of her restless search for power. Looking at your pale face and shallow breath almost dissipating, she felt for the first time in her life since her son’s birth that she didn’t need any magic if she could, perhaps, keep you.
“You know you can’t.” Rio’s voice echoed, but as the witches around your lifeless body moved around to recreate the spell used on Billy, Agatha stared at her. “You walked hand in hand with me for so long, Agatha. You, above anyone, should understand how life and death works.“
“Don’t!”, the witches voice screamed back, and the strength it held made Rio stop marching forward. “She can’t die. It’s not her time.”
“But it is.” death answered, showing her half skull face only Agatha could see. “She gave you everything. Her time has been completed.”
“No!” she didn’t plead. Tired of all the centuries serving as a cunt to give her more and more bodies even after having her son taken from her, it felt unfair. “That’s enough.”
Agatha didn’t waste another minute there, succumbing to Rio’s words. She cried out for Jen. Vulnerable, broken, the coven fell into a rhythm of trying the ritual over and over again, but not only the moonlit water fell onto your body, but also your partner’s tears as she was left disheveled from pleading to the Mother to keep your life. It was a side of Agatha Hakness no one had seen. No one besides Y/N and Rio. Yet, as the hole on your body closed, no one exactly knew what would be of you. Rio stood there, overing your body.
“She will be alright.” Teen reassured Agatha almost three hours later, giving her some of the berries he found on the road.
She wanted to curse him for putting you into that situation, but then again, the Salem Seven were her fault. A moment passed as your body was kept close to the fire. On the sidelines, Death eyed you, protected by Agatha’s love, something that she despised you for. The blue eyed witch gazed at you.
“You care for her.” Lilia said, voice flowing with the wind. “Like you never cared for anyone.”
“Just one person, besides her. My son.” she smiled sadly. It was the first time mentioning him, but the truth was just as painful as the current reality. The coven, her found coven, listened to it. “And Y/N helped me navigate all of that. Back from Salem to now. But this is not the first time i almost killed her.”
“If you are going to talk about our story...” a faint, tired, almost really dead voice startled them. Rio had disappeared again, but Y/N’s eyes flashed from her place on the floor. “At least wake me up.”
The others laughed tearfully, relieved, but as Agatha rushed to your side, still a mess of hair, tears and dried mud, they gathered the fire away from them.
“Y/N...sunshine. I’m...”
“Don’t, love. Don’t even think of it.” the maimed witch intercepted, reaching out just one hand to touch her left cheek. Her thumb caressed her face. “I’m here. And I'm not going anywhere. It's not easy to free yourself from me.”
“And i don’t want to.”, her lips pressed against your forehead, kissing it before pecking your lips. “I’m sorry I keep drowning you into my mess. This is unaceptable.”
“Aggy. Please, stop.” even laying down, you could still command her with those sweet eyes. “It’s not your fault.’
“But...”
“No buts. Now, come here.”
As you gently pulled Agatha down, her arms were protective around you. Your body still ached, but as your heartbeat fell into the same rhythm of Agatha’s, there was no doubt you would survive. With your head on her chest, your heavy eyes fell onto the image of the coven exchanging a cup of water they found. Behind them, the shadow of Death blinked slowly at you, turning her back before cutting Billy’s reality to step out.
Yo! Can I get a Agatha x Reader hurt/comfort where Reader have been very sad for a couple of months about herself and overthinking things and Agatha finds out? I know there are a lot of writers that don’t write this stuff so you don’t have to!
Combined these two asks together for To Mend a Soul. Thank you both for requesting
Requested: Yes! (I combined two requests into this.)
Summary: When her girlfriend starts to feel uneasy about herself and her place in their relationship, Agatha takes it into her own hands to ensure that her pretty girl is happy again.
Warnings: Hurt/comfort. Mentions of se!f-harm and anxiety (if this is a trigger for you, please, beware. ) Also: english is not my first language.
Word count: 861 (The next one will be bigger.)
The faint but comforting smell of lavender on her clothes were the only thing grounding the young woman's minds. As Agatha's slender fingers traveled down your scalp, the nails running against the top of your head made the dizziness subside. A shaky breath was taken and your whole body shook violently from the mental inflicted pain, taking her piercing blue eyes away from the book she settled on reading for the night.
"Something's brothering you, dear?"
The past few weeks were a plain confusion to her. After three and something years by your side, Agatha has never felt you so far away. And for someone who almost died in the hands of death herself, the situation was too unnerving. Maybe it was because she cared more about you than she cared for her own life. Maybe, the this "maybe" was a certainty, something she had few in her lifetime. She reveled in your happiness, one of the only things that made her truly enjoy life after her son's passing.
And for you, well...Agatha Harkness was no ordinary woman. You knew that coming in. Right of the bat, when she herself was only Agnes, her energywas unmatched. Sure, that version of Agatha was easier to fall in steps with your simple life. A suburban woman from Westview. And now you sat there, cuddle with the bundle of stories that the wordly Salem witch was. Agatha was exceptional in everything. In all the angles you took to merely eye at her, there was something so enlightening to see. How powerful she was. How beautifully those brown cascades would always flow behind her, framing the strong but feminine traits of her face. How those blue eyes could see miles and miles into your soul was a mystery you weren't sure you ready to dissect.
How could she settled with you was a completely unanswered question. One that gained a new depth with her present almost death experience.
You tried to hide your emotions from her, yet again, always. Shaking your head, the smile you gave was far from comfortable. Agatha moved and pulled you gently as you sat upright.
"Your lying abilities have gotten worse." the playfulness was there, but the attention she gave was heartbreaking. "Tell me, pretty girl. What is going on inside this precious mind of yours."
You gaped, words not coming out. The anxiety sunk in, heart hamming against your chest, vibrating in your head. The breath was short, and your lungs ached for more. Her hands rested upon yours, her nails grasping against your skin. Looking at her, you saw her eyes glued to your arms. Your long nails, mindlessly, maimed yourself as deeply as they could. There, along your veins, she recognized the faint lines from your past. Hurtful ones that only she knew about. Never again you tried, not until you draw blood from them again, right in front of her.
It wasn't that bad. Blood didn't scare Agatha, but the fear and sorrow she held as her hand gently parted you from yourself was devastating.
"Talk to me, my love.", she pleaded. "Please."
"I..dont know. It's just been too much." The voice coming from you was unsure, but the blured lines of that meaning had Agatha taken aback.
"What? Whats is?" her voice was gentle, but so much deeper than you've ever heard it.
"I...you. Not you but...me, to you."
As she heard your voice, shattered with a hint of stagnant cries, she held your face between her hands.
"Sweetie, breathe. Let it go. I'm right here to catch you." all the sweetness no one could have from her came crashing down.
"You...how can you be with me, Aggy?" She eyed you intently, thumb catching the first tears as they fell. "You're all - all everyone would ever want. And i'm just...me. Plain. Boring. "
The witch scoffed with a tearful laugh, as if you had the most idiot breakdown. But there was no judgment as she tugged you closer by the sleeves of her own shirt you were wearing.
"Oh, dear. You have no idea how amazing you are and how happy you make me. Y/N/N, look around. I'm building a life with you. After centuries of running, and ploting, scheming. This peace of mind...no one could ever give me that. No one could love me like you do."
The hiccups coming from your mouth made her eyes lock to yours.
"My pretty, pretty girl." her voice traced, full of love. "I love you. Remember, dear, that I've been around for ages. I've seen men rise and fall. I've met my share of people. Yet, I chose you. Y/N, I am choosing you at this moment. Everyday."
The weight of her words paired with how strong her gaze upon yourself was made you crumble. Your body gave into the pain as you were pulled into her. Almost straddling her lap, Agatha's warm embrace grounded you yet again. There were too many sorry you wanted to say, but as she shushed you into a lullaby meant only for your ears, the pieces were mended together. But as you lowered your face into her soft hair, her voice echoed against your left ear.
"Don't ever be afraid of telling me if something is bothering you. I'm yours and you're mine, my love." A soft kiss landed on your neck, lovingly. "You are safe."
