Agatha Harkness/Wanda Maximoff, Agatha Harkness & Wanda Maximoff.
I don't own the characters depicted.
Summary: It was easy, letting Agnes in on her pain when the woman never judged her for her actions.
Even if Wanda knew that eye for eye would leave them both blind, she just wanted Agatha to hurt like she did.
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*THIS IS A CONTINUATION TO "I am not well." Though it's not a requirement to read it to understand this.
ANNIHILATED LOVE
Chapter 1: I fell right in for the fantasy
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Even after she has found herself surrounded by her family —Vision, Tommy, Billy, and the brother she thought she had lost— Wanda feels so painfully alone, numbness consuming her every thought. In a way, she feels a stranger in her own body, a spectator to her life. She doesn't know how to feel about it.
It feels cold, and deep down, she knows the apathy that seems to grow along with her shaky grip on reality is not something she ought to ignore (what was real and what wasn't was getting harder to tell apart).
Apathy is easier to put up with than grief, tough.
She clings to the apathy when who she thought to be her brother unearths her pain once again. She clings, desperately, when her husband breaches through her spell and Wanda forces the boundaries of it, expanding its reach, too afraid to lose him again. When her pain grows, unabated, she clings to delirious denial and despairing hope, because that's better than coming face to face with the truth.
Regardless, she pushes forward. Because what else can she do, if not waddle through the mud until she finds purchase on something?
She is hanging by a thread, Wanda knows, something wicked being dredged up from the darkest part of herself, the bitterness and anger at the world chewing at her sanity. This wasn't the first time she had experienced it: the burning desire to bring the world down along with her. She had felt it as a kid, when she lost her parents. She had felt it when her other half left her. When she saw Vision die before her— not once but twice, she had felt it.
It was, however, the first time she felt she could do something about it.
Her magic, restless, urged her to express her emotions. Wanda had stopped caring when she realized her picturesque life was that: an unattainable idea to maintain, even with Wanda's best efforts. She had dropped all pretenses, especially around the only friend that seemed to be her one comfort in this convoluted lie of a life she had conjured for herself.
Faintly, she wondered if Agnes had lost her sanity as much as she had, disregarding the disparities that kept growing around Wanda. Guilt wrapped around her thoughts as she wondered if Agnes felt her pain, too, like the other people within Westview.
But Wanda was too self-absorbed, thirsty for any comfort she could find nowadays that she was willing to overlook those little details. Besides, Agnes always seemed to shine bright whenever she saw Wanda. A beacon through the shipwreck Wanda's life had turned into.
Wanda found it easier to forgive and love herself when Agnes was around. She loved the woman for it. Selfish as it might be, Wanda's thoughts always called for Agnes, hoping to forget, if only for a moment, how her world was falling apart around her. And Agnes was always there to hold her upright, helping Wanda stumble her way towards the smallest glimpse of happiness.
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It was easy, letting Agnes in on her pain —on her doubts and insecurities, and sense of worthlessness— when the woman never judged her for her actions. It was liberating to an extend. She just knew what to say to help ease Wanda's worries.
Whenever Wanda felt herself drowning in her despair, pieces of her irrevocably torn, Agnes found her, big smiles and warmth touches. As if she could understand her on a level no one else could.
It might have been Wanda deluding herself further, but she couldn't care any less.
When Wanda felt stuck on her darkest emotions, Agnes' light shone, taking bits of her pain away. It was easy to fall into routine with her, each one bouncing off each other, a tranquil sea compared to the tempestuous oceans within Wanda's psyche.
So when Agnes comes knocking on her door after the mess that had been Halloween, Wanda allows herself to cling to the tiniest of hope. All she needed was a small break to gather her thoughts and keep on living. Easy. She had done it before, she could do it now.
Stuck inside her own world gone awry, Wanda's spirits were lifted by Agnes' otherworldly presence. The North Star to her troubled sea of thoughts and emotions, really.
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Because I've been listening to Horizons ever since it came out on a loop (listen after reading, otherwise it's too blatant where I've drawn inspiration from, to a distracting degree, I think?). A bit of an hyperfixation, if you will. Add to that my newest focus and you've got me spiraling a bit into madness, haha.
