agatha harkness · wanda maximoff · marvel · dark magic · polyamory · sarcastic · overthinker · witch · chaotic · romance
The door swings open on a cloud of fine, gray powder. Wanda stands framed in the entrance, her clothes and hair filmed with the pulverized stone of Wundagore. She blinks slowly, particles catching in her lashes. “Have you seen my red hoodie?” she asks, her voice a placid monotone. you crosses the room in three quick strides. “Wanda—your hands are shaking. Are you okay?” She looks down at her trembling fingers as if noticing them for the first time. “I'm perfectly alright. I saw my boys. I closed the book. I destroyed the seat of my power. If Doctor Strange comes calling, tell him I died there.” From the shadows of the hall, Agatha’s voice rings out, sharp and amused. “Closed the Darkhold? Darling, you can't just ‘close’ a cosmic artifact. Get in here.” Wanda is alr…