#agatha wandavision

[lifespectator]

Wanda takes Y/n to her gingerbread house

Wanda: Everything you see here is edible.

Y/n, eyeing up Wanda: Everything?

Wanda, under her breath: Everything.

Agatha: Do ya'll think before you speak?

[peach-and-bugs]

With the new promo video for coven of chaos or dark hold diaries or whatever they settle on, I think it might be high time I revisit passing notes BUT WE’LL SEE!!! College takes priority, as always and I’m trying very hard to stay enrolled after changing my degree once again

[evanpetersbuttocks]

me when i look at the photos with evan and understand that i’m not even on the same continent with him

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

Chaconne: Part Fourteen (Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader)

Word Count: 11.1K

Summary: With the days to the concert flying by, you do your best to assist MSO conductor Agatha Harkness as you both prepare for the final performance.

A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome to the last chapter of Chaconne. It’s taken me a while to get here, but I’m so excited to post this and share it with all of you. Just a few reminders, this story was originally based off one of my favorite tv shows, Mozart In The Jungle. A few of the plot lines inspired me to write this story but, I do not own Mozart In The Jungle (unfortunately). I lost track while writing so this chapter is much longer, but I hope all of you enjoy. Thank you guys for reading and always sharing your thoughts with me, I appreciate it more than words can say. I hope you enjoy this last chapter and please, feel free to comment or message me to let me know what you think! :)

Tag-List: @anxiousgoldengirl @celasteria @danvers97 @imthedoctorlove @mcfriggingonagall @meowsaidmissy @scarletmeltstheice @shinkomiii @sxfwap @thestrangeundoing @upsidedowndanvers @venticalooks @vintagegoddess12 @thoroughly--confused @thewelshelk @tr333sus

Y/N POV

There was nothing more exhilarating than the start of a concert week. The grueling hours of practicing, weeks of rehearsals that seemed to drag by, all of it was worth it for opening night. Sitting on stage while the lights began to dim. Seeing the concert hall full of an audience who came to watch you perform. Well, that’s what you usually would look forward to. Only this time you wouldn’t be performing, you’d be backstage preventing Agatha from strangling the various stage hands and orchestra personnel.

With the concert quickly approaching, you were leaving work later and later every night. It seemed that there was a never ending pile of tasks to complete, and just when you thought you had finished, there turned out to be more to do. You loved the work, even if it wasn’t what you envisioned doing with your career. The MSO housed an impressive music library, with what seemed to be thousands of music scores. There were guest artist programs where world famous musicians like Wanda and Natasha would do various performances in the community. You had an unlimited supply of resources at your fingertips, but a small part of you wondered if it would be enough.

After you called Natasha to inform her you weren’t accepting the offer, she had taken to emailing you twice more to make sure you hadn’t reconsidered. But you weren't reconsidering, right? Sure, you weren't performing with the MSO, but you had Agatha. Agatha, who had taken to inviting you to stay with her for the past few nights. Agatha, who made you dinner each night, despite your protests that you could help. Agatha, who turned off your earliest alarm so you could catch up on sleep, and sent her car service to pick you up a few hours later.

Even with the domestic layers of Agatha that you were slowly uncovering, there were still unanswered questions. Despite all the time you’d spent together, the dates, and the sleepovers you’d never had a conversation discussing what this was. You couldn’t really picture Agatha as the ‘girlfriend’ type, and you were unsure how to ask her what she wanted long term. Or rather, you were scared that you wanted more than she did.

There was no use fretting right now, you reminded yourself as you entered the symphony center. You had a job to do, and it currently required all of your attention. There had originally been a youth music concert scheduled for the day, where hundreds of children would come hear the symphony perform, but Hayward canceled it last week. He claimed it was a waste of money that wasn’t benefitting the symphony, and instead scheduled yet another donor lunch. While you had been disappointed by the news, Agatha was livid. You recalled the thirty minute rant you witnessed last week, complete with Agatha’s ever colorful ways of insulting the CFO.

This afternoon’s dress rehearsal meant Agatha would be even more nitpicky than usual, if that was even possible. Agatha didn’t just expect a flawless performance, she demanded it. But rehearsals were running more smoothly as time went on, so you were hopeful today wouldn’t be a complete disaster. She seemed to be pleased with the orchestra's progress, or as pleased as she could be. There was a comfortable sort of banter between her and the orchestra (although the slight…bullying towards Dottie hadn’t changed), and it was nice to see her start to relax. The orchestra wasn’t afraid of her anymore, the fear had slowly turned into respect.

You’d usually find the conductor pacing in her office in the hours before rehearsal started, but much to your surprise her office was vacant when you returned from helping the interns set the stage. There was a note addressed to you on her desk, and in Agatha’s messy scrawl she informed you she’d be back before rehearsal started, and to make sure you had something to eat. On rehearsal days you were often so busy there were times where you’d forget to eat lunch, or even dinner. Agatha always noticed. Although she’d complain you were supposed to be her assistant and not the other way around, she’d make sure you ate something.

By the time rehearsal rolled around, most of the orchestra had arrived and were getting settled on stage when Agatha came sauntering in. She was carrying two cups of coffee, and handed one to you when she reached the stage. Her fingers briefly squeezed yours, and when she let go you instantly missed the contact. Wasting no time, she clapped her hands together to indicate the lingering orchestra members should get on stage.

“We’re going to run through parts of Dvorak before Wanda arrives.” Agatha informed you as she gathered her music scores and baton that you had grabbed from her office earlier that afternoon. “Can you watch the string sections to make sure everyone is following the correct bowings? It only takes one of them to fuck it up and become an eyesore.”

Nodding, you grabbed the spare copy of the Dvorak score and a pencil. “Anything else?”

“Let me know if anyone seems to be falling behind because of the tempo changes. I know we have problems with the flutes, but I’ve been sensing some of the first violins dragging as well.” Agatha added, and you scribbled down her instructions. “We’re going to be running through the program from start to finish for the second half of rehearsal, so I want to get all of the kinks worked out beforehand.”

The conductor paused for a moment as her eyes scanned the stage before turning her attention back to you. “I have a little surprise planned for today. Can you ask a few of the interns to wait in the lobby?”

A surprise? Is that where she disappeared to today? Giving her a sweet smile, you leaned in close enough to whisper. “Can I ask what it is?”

Agatha smirked, and there was a mischievous glint in her blue eyes. She merely tskd and shook her head. “All in good time, dear. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a rehearsal to lead.”

Firing off a text to 4 interns relaying Agatha’s instructions, you waited for confirmation that they would wait in the lobby before settling in your seat. Agatha was flipping through her score, and you scanned the first violin section until your eyes locked on Monica and sent her a quick, but enthusiastic wave. You missed her, and missed being her stand partner.

Tapping her baton, Agatha motioned for the orchestra to be quiet. “Good afternoon everyone. As this is our last rehearsal before tomorrow night, I have a few spots I want to run before our soloist arrives.”

She was flipping through her score at record speed before finally locating whatever section she was searching for. “If you could turn your attention to measure 191 in the first movement. Strings, I need less of you here. You shouldn’t be playing anything above mezzo piano.” Pausing, her eyes appeared to drift throughout the section, before adding. “And some of you need to use less bow. This is a marathon, not a sprint. Don’t waste all of your energy in the first movement when we have three more to go.”

Raising her baton, the orchestra raised their instruments, and you turned to the correct page in the score so you could follow along. Unfortunately, the orchestra barely played a full measure before Agatha cut them off.

Clearing her throat, you could tell she was attempting to keep her annoyance in check. “Just a reminder, we are at measure 191 in the first movement.” She waved her baton back towards the winds. “Does everyone know where we are?” When everyone either nodded or confirmed they were at the correct place, Agatha sighed. “Alright then. Once more, and we’ll keep going this time.”

Your eyes locked on the measure Agatha was referring to, and quickly scanned the parts before she gave the downbeat to begin. Again, barely one measure in and she was cutting the orchestra off once more. Oh no. Although Agatha hadn’t been as frustrated during orchestra rehearsals, you were beginning to wonder if today would end that streak.

Tapping her baton on the stand, she took a deep breath. “Alright. I want everyone to take a moment and make sure we are all at the same place. In case some of you happen to be hard of hearing, we are at measure 191.” She tapped the baton again, louder, this time in clear frustration. “Again, that is measure one hundred and ninety-one.” This time she enunciated each syllable and a painstakingly slow pace. “Does anyone need help locating the measure? I thought they would have taught you to count by now but I am willing to assist if need be.”

When she was once again met with silence, she nodded. “Good. Once more, hopefully for the last time.”

Raising her baton, she gave the downbeat and when the orchestra played the first note you could immediately tell that someone was not at the correct measure. Agatha dropped her baton on her stand and shook her head. “Flutes, are all of you on the right measure?” There was insistent nodding from the flute section and you grimaced.

Agatha took yet another very, very, deep breath, more than likely to try and keep her temper in check. “Flutes, if we’re all in the same place then why are we not playing the correct notes? We are in the key of e minor, yes?” Without even waiting for the flutes to confirm she continued on her rant. “Right, right. Yes, yes. Very good, we can all read key signatures. I’m sure your parents are so proud they’ve paid hundreds of thousands of dollars on your education that you can identify what key you are in.”

Ouch. She was in a mood now. There was movement to your right, and you looked over to see Wanda Maximoff taking a seat next to you. The pianist gave your shoulder a light squeeze, and leaned in closer to you. “I see Agatha is getting along well with the orchestra.”

You resisted the urge to giggle, on the off chance Agatha somehow heard and became even more agitated than she already was. The conductor in question looked like she was getting close to going full rage. “Dottie, are you sure you have the correct measure number?”

The principal flautist nodded. “Yes, Maestra. It’s marked as measure 191.”

“Then why are you playing the wrong note? You have an e-flat notated but you’ve played an e-natural each time.”

“I don’t have an e-flat at 191, Maestra. It’s an e-natural,” Dottie insisted, and you swore she appeared to be shrinking in size in her seat from embarrassment.

The second chair flautist leaned over to read Dottie’s part before nodding. “She’s right, Maestra. It’s an e-natural at measure 191.” She then turned to Jimmy. “Right, Jimmy?”

Jimmy, who was seated on the other side of Dottie reluctantly looked over at her part as well. “It’s…it’s an e-natural, Maestra.”

“See, I have witnesses!” Dottie exclaimed. “It’s not me.”

Jimmy meanwhile was still scanning Dottie’s part, and he pointed at something on the page. “Wait Dottie, I think your part is numbered incorrectly. It looks like you’re off by three bars.”

Dottie became more flustered and she appeared to be silently counting each bar, before sheepishly looking up at Agatha. “Well, it looks like I wasn’t actually at measure 191. But it wasn’t my fault! The part was numbered incorrectly.”

“Ah of course, Dottie,” Agatha drawled sarcastically, her voice dripping with resentment. “It’s always someone else’s fault.” Grabbing her baton, she raised her arms. “Measure 191 everyone.”

The orchestra began to play and you were following along with the score until you felt Wanda lightly tap your shoulder. Giving her an inquisitive look she leaned closer to you again. “Natasha told me you turned down the job offer. I have to say I’m surprised, and I know she was as well.”

Shrugging, you gave a quick glance to the stage to make sure Agatha’s attention was solely on the orchestra before replying. “I’m grateful for the opportunity, but I’m really happy where I am right now.”

“You mean you’re happy with Agatha.” Wanda corrected you, but there was no malice or judgment in her tone; only curiosity. “Does she know you got the job?”

You debated over the risk of confiding in Wanda, but rationalized that she had been nothing but kind to you. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to talk to someone about this. “No, she doesn’t. Besides, it doesn’t matter now. I told Natasha that I wasn’t taking it, so she never has to know.”

“You should tell her,” Wanda suggested, her breath hot in your ear. “She’d want to know.”

“It’s not that simple,” You argued. “We don’t-”

“If my assistant and soloist could stop chatting, the rest of us doing our jobs would greatly appreciate it,” Agatha called from the stage, effectively shutting you up. “Wanda, if you’d like to come on stage for Rachmaninoff, we’ll continue after taking a 10 minute break.”

Wanda gave your shoulder a final squeeze as she stood up. “Just think about it, okay? I’ve known Agatha for a long time, and I can tell she really cares about you. You should tell her.”

With that, Wanda went to join the orchestra on stage, and you were alone yet again. Although Wanda meant well, there was no point in telling Agatha about the job in Vienna. You had made your decision, and you were happy with it. Agatha came skulking off the stage, heading in your general direction and you winced at how annoyed she appeared to be.

“Y/N, a moment?“ Agatha asked, and as she stared at you it became apparent she wanted you to get up and follow her.

Nodding, you followed her backstage. You barely rounded the corner when you felt Agatha grab your arm and yank you into a closet. It was a storage closet, and a rather roomy one at that. Now, it wasn’t unusual for Agatha to be staring at you, but this was different. At first you wondered if she was angry you were talking to Wanda during rehearsal, but you couldn’t detect any frustration in her gaze. Her eyes were scanning yours, as if she was trying to detect something, find something, but you weren’t sure what.

“Agatha?” You asked softly, gazing up at her. “Is everything alright?”

“I was hoping you’d join me for dinner after rehearsal,” Agatha explained, as one of her hands lightly grabbed your waist. “I’ve enjoyed having you stay over for the past few nights. It’s been quite…calming. I think Scratchy enjoyed it too.”

Beaming at her words, you blushed. “I’d love to, and I’ve enjoyed it too. But is that all you wanted to talk about?”

Agatha left one hand on your waist as the other gently reached to cradle your face. “It can wait until tonight dear.”

She pressed her lips to your forehead for a sweet and gentle kiss before letting go of your waist. “Now, if you’ll come with me. I believe they should be arriving any minute now.”

Before you could ask what, or rather who, was arriving, Agatha was already halfway down the hallway; leaving you to awkwardly trail after her. You never understood how she was able to walk so quickly in those heels. Just as you managed to catch up to her, you stopped dead in your tracks at what you saw occurring in the concert hall. There were children, hundreds of children, all excitedly entering the hall. Somehow the four interns you wrangled into waiting in the lobby had called for reinforcements, as there were now around a dozen interns and orchestra personnel guiding the school children and their teachers to seats.

For a brief moment you were brought back in time to your first visit to the symphony when you were a child. The hall seemed mammoth sized, with the shimmery chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, and the thousands of seats. Seeing a full symphony orchestra for the first time, as you rapidly fired off the name of every instrument you spotted to your parents. Watching the professional violinists warm up and prepare for the concert. It was what inspired you to want to perform in the first place.

Agatha was conversing with the stage manager and you stared at her in disbelief. This is what she was off doing today? However she pulled this off, after Hayward made a clear point of canceling it, was beyond you. She caught you staring in the midst of her conversation, and merely winked at you before motioning with what she wanted to do with the stage lights. Darcy walked by you at that moment, her mallets in one hand and her music in the other.

“I have to say, I can’t believe she managed to make this happen,” Darcy said to you. “Hayward’s going to have a total fit.”

“Yeah no kidding,” You shuddered at the thought of Hayward finding out. “Did you know about this?”

Darcy shook her head. “I just perform here.”

It took another fifteen minutes to get everyone in their seats, and in the meantime you joined Agatha backstage. The conductor was lightly pacing, and every few minutes appeared to be peering out into the crowd.

“You did this all on your own?” You asked quietly, as various musicians made their way to their seats. “Today?”

Agatha shrugged, not meeting your eyes. “Hayward seems to forget that this isn’t his orchestra, it’s mine. It’s about time he remembers who’s in charge.”

“How did you even get all of these kids here? I’m sure when Hayward canceled the field trip the schools canceled the transportation they had lined up.” You prompted, still amazed at the different obstacles you’re sure she had to face to do this in such a short amount of time.

Giving you a pointed look, Agatha gave you a small smirk. “I’m Agatha Harkness, dear.”

“You gave them a lot of money, didn’t you?”

Rolling her eyes at you, she chuckled lightly, before motioning to the hall. “What do you think?”

“I’m…” You trailed off, still in shock at what the conductor had done. It was so thoughtful, and considerate. You hadn’t given much thought to the topic before today but you’d ignorantly assumed Agatha didn’t like children. Clearly you were wrong. Realizing you had stayed quiet for too long you said the first thing that came to mind, the only thing on your mind. You loved her. “I-.”

“We’re ready to begin whenever you are, Maestra.” The stage manager announced as they approached you.

Agatha nodded. “Thank you. You can tell Wanda and the concertmaster to make their entrances.”

Once they walked away, you panicked as Agatha looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. You gave the conductor’s arm a playful punch. “Break a leg.”

She looked at you as if you’d lost your mind, but the sounds of the orchestra tuning roused her from whatever she must have been thinking. Turning away, she went to join Wanda near the stage door, and shot you another curious glance before heading out on stage.

Break a leg? What was wrong with you? You had a tendency to freeze in situations that made you nervous, and you were usually nervous around Agatha. There was something about her that constantly left you on the edge of your seat. You were so scared of disappointing her, and you were just as scared of getting hurt. That was part of the problem. You knew you loved Agatha, you’d been in love with her for a while. It was as easy as breathing. But the thought of being that vulnerable and open terrified you. What if she didn’t find this to be as serious of a relationship as you did?

The performance was going a lot better than the earlier rehearsal had. Even though you were stuck backstage, you could hear everything perfectly and there were moments where you pretended you were performing too. Being alone, with a concert going on a few feet away from you was all it took for you to admit that you were going to miss performing. Agatha had brought up the idea of you auditioning for the next open chair a few times, but the blind audition was still in the back of your mind so you politely refused. You wondered if you were crazy for turning down a chance to perform in Vienna with one of your all time favorite musicians.

You had been so wrapped up in your thoughts, you stopped paying attention to the concert until there was a surge of applause and some light cheering from the audience. You snuck out the side entrance to stand in the back of the hall, just in time to witness Agatha motioning for the orchestra to stand up. She shook the concertmaster’s hand before walking off stage, and when the applause eventually died down she came back out. You watched her say something inaudible to the orchestra, who were still in their seats.

A few of the children had gotten out of their seats and were lingering at the front of the stage. Agatha eventually noticed them, and surprised you once more as she waved for them to come up to join her. Still too far away to hear what they were saying, you felt your heart swell as Agatha handed one of them her baton, and helped them up on the podium. The rest of the group had scattered around various orchestra members who began demonstrating how to play their instruments. You forgot how long you stood there, until Agatha noticed you in the crowd, and motioned for you to come join them.

Wanda had come back out at this point, and had two of the children sitting on the piano bench, and was laughing with delight as she showed them how to play simple chords. Meanwhile, the violin section was swarmed, and you could make out Monica and the new violinist, John, allowing the kids to hold their bows. Agatha was having them stand on the podium, one by one. She would hand them her baton, and show them the proper way to hold it. This went on for some time, until finally the buses arrived and the interns had the children in neat lines to exit the hall.

When the doors shut once more, Agatha tapped her baton once more. “I know all of you are probably eager to head home, I have a few announcements. First, a reminder that the call time for tomorrow evening is 6:00 sharp. I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but you should know that being early is being on time, and being on time is being late.” She pointed her baton at the brass section. “Trumpets, I’m looking at you. No strolling in at 6:01, I want you backstage, unpacked and warmed up by 6:00.”

After a brief moment of silence, she continued. “Secondly, thank you all for the performance today. In all my years of performing and conducting, I’ve always enjoyed these concerts the most. There’s something quite special about what we do, when we do it well.”

Agatha seemed to have the whole orchestra hanging on to her every word. Despite her occasional outbursts and sarcastic quips, she was a beyond captivating public speaker. “I know some people on the board don’t feel it is necessary, as it doesn’t bring in enough money,” She scoffed, and Hayward’s words replayed in your mind. “But there is nothing more important than sharing this gift we have with the next generation. After all, there’s a good chance some of them might end up sitting in the very same chairs you’re occupying now.”

“One final thing,” Agatha added, as she closed her Dvorak score. “I know I’ve been rather hard on all of you for the past few months, but it’s because I see the potential this orchestra has. I don’t want the Manhattan Symphony to just be a good orchestra, I want it to be the best, and I know that’s possible.”

She picked her scores off the stand, and by reflex you grabbed them from her. “We aren’t a great orchestra yet, we aren’t the best. But I’m proud of the work you’re putting in,” She nodded her head to the winds, “All of you. Which is why I have planned a little something for tomorrow. I know most of you take public transportation to get to and from rehearsals, but tomorrow night I’ll be sending each of you a town car to take you to and from the concert.”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head from shock. A quick look around the room confirmed everyone else, including a lingering Wanda, was just as flabbergasted as you. A few people were clapping, others were offering their thanks to the conductor who waved it away. “None of that. Tomorrow will be the start of a new era for the Manhattan Symphony, and I want all of you to feel like stars.” She stepped off the podium. “That will be all, thank you everyone.”

On the walk back to the conductor’s office, you asked the question that had been practically burning a hole in your brain all afternoon. “How did you manage to get all of this done today?”

“I already had the school concert resolved earlier in the week,” Agatha stated as she unlocked the door, allowing you to step inside first. “The town car was an idea I came up with this morning.”

“You do know that they really think the world of you,” You teased, causing Agatha to scowl, but it was true. Agatha’s added pressure and high expectations was pushing the orchestra to new heights.

“I’d prefer they think nothing of me,” She quipped, packing her scores and belongings up in her bag, and you rolled your eyes.

“Of course, Maestra.”

The rest of the day was uneventful, and your dinner with Agatha turned into takeout on her couch, as you were both too exhausted from the day to do anything else. But it was perfect. You were so happy, and so content. You wanted it to stay like this forever.

The day of the concert proved to be pure madness. You decided to ride to the symphony center in the early evening with Agatha in an attempt to calm her down. The conductor had been in a mood all day, wanting to make last minute changes that you knew were impossible. You finally were able to help her calm down on the walk to her office, and she shooed you away as she carried her garment bag containing her outfit inside. Agatha had convinced you to wear an all black ensemble, and told you that you’d blend in well backstage (which you weren’t entirely sure was a compliment but you listened to her).

You waited outside her office door for some time before she finally said you could come back in. The conductor’s back was facing the wall and you barely made it through the door when she instructed you to close it. As she turned around, you gasped. Agatha had changed into a black Armani pantsuit that made her ass look fantastic. Her hair was as tamed as it ever had been, with her curly waves flowing over her shoulders and her makeup stage dark. She looked beautiful.

“You look…” You momentarily lost the ability to speak as you tried to not gawk at her. “You look incredible, wow.”

Agatha smirked at you, “Thank you, darling.” She pulled you closer to her. “I saw you checking out my ass as well.”

You blushed and wriggled in her grasp. “I was not checking you out. I was just…admiring the view.”

That made Agatha cackle as she grabbed your waist, nibbling on your ear and whispering, “Oh? Admiring the view, hm?”

You turned your head to capture her lips in a kiss. Kissing Agatha was so easy, just like breathing. Her lips moved against yours and you made a happy humming noise as she deepened it. Agatha’s teeth gently bit down on your bottom lip, drawing blood before she sucked, and you moaned at the sensation. She did it twice more before gently pulling away, kissing you once more.

“Wow,” You breathed out, wishing there wasn’t a concert soon so you could continue. “That was…really good.”

Agatha smirked as she went back to her bookshelf. “Indeed it was. I have a few things to do before the concert, dear. Would you mind checking on how things are going backstage?”

You nodded and as you went to leave, you subtly looked back at Agatha. Her ass did look really good.

“I can feel you staring.” She called out, not turning around, causing you to blush and practically run out of her office.

Keeping yourself busy, you helped the interns keep track of who was arriving. You marked off orchestra member after orchestra member until only one remained. After waiting for what you felt was a sufficient amount of time, you decided to go find Agatha.

“John still hasn’t shown up,” You informed Agatha, who was shutting her office door. “Has anyone heard from him?”

Agatha arched an eyebrow. “He’s missing? How horrible. We should send out a search party.”

“Agatha, that’s not funny. You had a car sent to pick him up, right? Maybe we can call the service company to see if something happened?”

“That won’t be necessary, dear,” Agatha waved off your concern. “Walker won’t be here in time.”

“How could you possibly know that?” You questioned, until a dark thought washed over you. “Oh my god, did you do this?”

Cackling, Agatha rubbed your arm, amused by your horror. “Relax darling. You’re acting as if I killed him. He’s currently driving through New Jersey, I believe. I have some friends in Westview. Nice town, quaint, but unfortunately it’s not where he needs to be.”

“Agatha!” You exclaimed, not comprehending why she would send one of the first violinists on a road trip. “Why would you do that?”

Shrugging, the conductor started walking away. “Looks like we’ll need to find a substitute player. What a shame, the concert is in fifteen minutes. That’s not a lot of time to find someone.”

All but chasing after her, realization dawned on you, and you lightly grabbed her arm, stopping her. “Agatha, I don’t have my violin. It’s at my apartment, and there’s no way I could get there and back in time and-”

You should have been used to this by now, but you were effectively silenced as Agatha kissed you. Firmly grabbing you by your hips, she pulled you closer and lightly bit down on your bottom lip, causing you to whine. Before you could even react, she pulled back, and smirked. “You’re really too easy, dear.”

“First, no I’m not. You just caught me by surprise.” You pouted, turning slightly red, and Agatha’s resounding cackle made you blushed even harder. “Second, I still don’t have my violin, and I doubt you have a solution for that.”

“Oh, I don’t?” Agatha frowned, and continued to the concert hall. “Thirteen minutes. Chop chop.”

You reluctantly took off after her, not sure what the use was when you didn’t have a violin to play. When you walked backstage, you were surprised to find your roommate standing near a table, scrolling on his phone.

“Sam?“ The sound of your voice causing him to look up. “What are you doing here?”

“Agatha called me,” Sam pulled your violin case out from under the table. “I’m not sure how she got my number, but she said you needed this.”

Deciding it wasn’t that important to figure out how Agatha acquired your roommate’s phone number at this very moment, you threw yourself at him in a hug. “Oh my gosh! Sam, thank you!”

“Yeah of course, Y/N.” Sam laughed as he hugged you back. “I’ve gotta say, your girlfriend is quite persistent, and scary.” He pulled out a pair of tickets from his coat pocket. “But she gave me and Bucky tickets so we can watch you perform.”

Your heart did flip flops at the mention of Agatha being your girlfriend. Is that what she was now? Your eyes drifted over the room until you found her across from you, talking to the concertmaster. She caught you staring, she always caught you staring, and winked before returning to her conversation. You couldn’t believe she did this for you.

Giving Sam a final hug, you took your violin case. “I’m really glad you’re here, but you should probably get to your seat. I think the concert is starting soon.”

“Break a leg out there!” Sam said encouragingly as he walked out of the room.

Quickly finding a place to set down your violin case, you opened it up and grabbed your bow. You always made sure to loosen the hairs before putting it away each time you practiced to prevent the bow from becoming warped. Taking a moment to tighten it, you then grabbed your rosin and applied a generous amount. The last step was to make sure you were in tune. You always kept an electronic tuner in your case, but had a tuning app on your phone as well. It took you a little longer than normal, the fall air was becoming colder as the days went on, and it made your violin more difficult to tune. Finally, you were ready.

The rest of the MSO was either already on stage, or making their way to their seats. A few people congratulated you on performing again as you passed them, but the one person you wanted to talk to was nowhere to be found. Where did Agatha wander off to now? You could spot Darcy with another percussionist, a few of the other first violins who were heading on stage, and an agitated looking Tyler Hayward who was heading your way.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Hayward all but seethed, his face turning red. “And where is John?”

“Um…” Trailing off, you looked around but still couldn’t locate Agatha. “He’s running late, so Maestra Harkness is having me fill in until he gets here.”

“Very convenient that the violinist I hired goes missing right before the season opener is about to begin.” Hayward said, his voice laced with venom. “And Harkness has no right asking you to fill in. Put your violin away, you’re not performing.”

“Is there a problem, Mr. Hayward?” Wanda’s voice echoed through the room, and you whipped your head around at the sound of it and almost gasped.

The pianist had changed from her usual attire into a beautiful one-shoulder a-line scarlet gown. The pattern of the dress made there appear to be rose petals scattered throughout it. Her hair was curled and pinned to the side. She looked beautiful.

“Y/N?” Wanda's voice broke you out of your trance. “Is everything okay?”

“This doesn’t involve you, Miss Maximoff.” Hayward replied, his voice lowering in volume.

“Perhaps it involves me, then?” Agatha all but growled, and you were worried she would try to impale Hayward with her baton. “What’s going on here? Y/N why aren’t you onstage?”

“What did you do with John, Harkness?” Hayward’s face was turning a rather impressive shade of red. “The number of rules you have broken in the past two days alone is grounds for your firing. I heard about your impromptu concert yesterday. You’re lucky I didn't call the board immediately to have you removed.”

“I could say the same of you,” Agatha said conversationally. “You know, I heard the most fascinating things from Loki Laufeyson about you yesterday at the donor brunch.” She shook her head at the man in disapproval. “Embezzling symphony funds, Tyler? I don’t think the board would approve of that either.”

Pulling her phone out of her back pocket, she held it out. “Perhaps you’d like to give them a call? It shouldn’t take more than a minute for them to get backstage.”

Hayward’s face instantly paled. “That won’t be necessary. We’ll discuss this later.“

He stormed off without another word, slamming the door behind him. Agatha immediately turned to you, seemingly having forgotten that Wanda was standing right there. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” You insisted. “Wanda showed up before it got worse. Thank you by the way, Wanda. Your timing is always impeccable.”

“It was my pleasure,” Wanda assured you, smiling brightly.

“If only all of your entrances were as impeccable, Maximoff,” Agatha taunted lightly, but her tone was more lighthearted than before. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Agatha,” Wanda replied with a small smile.

They were finally sort of getting along. It was about time. You finally walked on stage, where the rest of the orchestra was warming up. Monica looked thrilled to see you once you finally sat down.

“Hey stand partner,” She greeted you with a warm grin. “What, did Maestra kill John tonight to get rid of him?”

“Not quite, I guess he got stuck in traffic,” You whispered, which wasn’t a total lie.

At that moment an automated voice played over the speakers, reminding the audience to have their cellphones silenced, and announced that the concert would begin shortly. That was usually the signal for the orchestra to stop warming up, and sure enough the concertmaster came walking out a few moments later. There was applause from the audience, and after they bowed, it was time to tune the orchestra. Jimmy lifted up his oboe to play an A, and the woodwinds and brass tuned first. Then after a brief pause, Jimmy played another A and the string section, including yourself, tuned your instruments.

Finally, the doors opened and Wanda followed closely by Agatha came walking out. There was thunderous applause from the audience, and you had briefly forgotten how famous both Agatha and Wanda were. Agatha lifted her hand to signal the orchestra should stand for the applause. Looking out in the crowd you finally felt a wave of nerves rush over you. This definitely had to be the largest crowd you’d ever performed in, like…ever. You’d barely had time to think about if you could really do this. Were you ready?

Unfortunately you were out of time to decide that, as Agatha was raising her baton. Lifting your violin you waited for the downbeat and let go of any doubts in your brain. Wanda played the opening chords of the Rachmaninoff somehow more perfectly than in any rehearsal. She was so fluid in her movements it was like nothing you had ever experienced before. She played with such passion, such raw and unrelenting emotions, and with every run and cadenza it was as if she was pouring her entire heart out.

The second movement, the Adagio sostenuto, was breathtakingly beautiful with Wanda playing a sweet melody, accompanied by the orchestra. It was as heartbreaking as it was hopeful with the start of each new cadence. Somehow you enjoyed Wanda playing this softer melody even more than the fury of intense runs up and down the keys. Towards the end of the movement the first violins took over the melody, and you could practically feel your soul singing along as you played out. You had missed this, you’d missed it with every fiber of your being. Being on stage, performing in an orchestra, this is what you were meant to do.

Although you had been looking up at Agatha throughout the piece so far, she had been too wrapped up in making sure everyone was following the correct tempo. However this time, towards the end of the movement, you made brief, but direct eye contact, and you swore she smiled at you. Finally it was the third and final movement, the Allegro scherzando. While the second movement had been more subdued, the third was the complete opposite. Wanda, somehow still full of energy and seemingly not tired, effortlessly played all of her runs at the new, fast tempo.

The movement all but sped by, and you switched your focus between the music on the page and stealing glances at Wanda. She was beyond captivating, with her glissandos up and down the piano, her final cadenza practically had you hypnotized. The last few minutes of the concerto had Wanda playing her practically impossible chords as the orchestra sped into playing the final phrases, and you watched as Agatha cut everyone off.

The concert hall erupted into tumultuous applause, and Wanda stood up for her bow. There was some whistling from the audience, and the applause somehow got louder. After a while, Wanda walked off stage, and then came back for her encore. At this point it seemed that the entire hall had stood up, and you were nearly glowing from how blissful you felt in that very moment. When the applause finally died down, there was a brief intermission to reset the stage and move the piano. You waited backstage, and made a point to hydrate while you waited for the intermission to end.

Wanda eventually came over, accompanied by Natasha Romanov. The pianist had her arms full of flowers, as well as what looked to be a homemade card, presumably from her sons. Natasha, meanwhile, was helping her carry her loot.

“Wanda, you were incredible!” You exclaimed, and the pianist beamed.

“You’re too sweet, Y/N. Thank you. I think it went rather well,” Wanda said modestly, and Natasha snorted.

“Humble as ever, Wands,” Natasha joked.

“It’s really nice to see you again, Miss Romanov,” You greeted the violinist, and you meant it.

Natasha nodded, as Wanda excused herself to talk to other members of the orchestra. “I was happy to hear you changed your mind on Vienna. We’re excited to have you. The group is a bit smaller than this orchestra, but we have a lot of great repertoire lined up.”

“I don’t…” You were at a loss for words. “Excuse me?”

“I was a bit surprised to hear you reconsidered,” Natasha added. “My assistant said you’d called earlier this morning to ask for the contract and travel details.”

Now, you had been a bit spacey over the past week with stress of concert preparations, but you knew that you did not contact Natasha. That left only one person. Agatha. But how did she even find out? Your eyes trailed over to Wanda, who was praising Dottie on one of her solos, before realizing you were being ridiculous. You knew Wanda wouldn’t have said anything. But, it was clear Agatha was behind this. You just weren’t sure why.

“Of course,” You finally answered, deciding you would correct the mistake later. “I’ve…just had so much on my mind.”

Natasha nodded once more. “Well, for what it’s worth I think you made the right choice. I’m looking forward to working with you. I’ll see you next Saturday.”

She then excused herself to go back to Wanda just as the backstage lights flickered, signaling the end of the intermission. Great, you thought sarcastically, perfect timing. Scanning the room for Agatha, you realized you were out of time to find her, you needed to get back onstage. Grabbing your violin, you wracked your brain on if Agatha had done anything to suggest she knew about the audition, but you had nothing.

How could she do this? You’d made your decision, and you weren’t planning on changing it. Yes, you loved performing, it was what you’d always wanted; but now you wanted Agatha too. You didn’t want to move to Vienna and potentially lose her, you weren’t sure you could handle that. So, you made the executive decision to turn down the offer. As the orchestra tuned again, your brain anxiously went over any possible reason you could think of for why Agatha would have done this. Was she trying to get rid of you?

Agatha walked out on stage to more thunderous applause, and you took a deep breath. You couldn’t worry about this now, you’d talk to her after and everything would be okay. As the first movement began, you slowly felt yourself begin to relax. Dvorak’s Symphony No. 9, or The New World Symphony, was still one of your all time favorites. Everything felt big and loud, and you were thrilled to be part of it.

Everyone else seemed to be more relaxed for the second half, even Agatha. Putting your mixed feelings aside for the moment, you couldn’t help but observe Agatha like this. With every rehearsal she seemed to let her guard down more, and more. She was wildly conducting, and her hair was practically bouncing off her shoulders. The way she moved her hands was like she was telling a story, and you were always so mesmerized by it. She looked so serene when she was like this, and just like at the first rehearsal she was paying no mind to the score. Instead she was cueing the various sections for their entrances, and once you reached the end of the first movement she seemed to gain more energy as she ended her hands with a flourish.

The second movement has always been one of your favorites. It was less complex than the first movement, but still required you to use the proper techniques. Agatha once told you the most common mistake a musician makes is just playing the music on the page. She said there was so much more to it than just that, and she was right. It didn’t matter how simple a piece appeared to be, there were dynamics, phrasing, vibrato, and at least a dozen other things to keep in mind while you were performing. Making music and sharing it was one of the best things that had ever happened to you, and you always made sure to give it your all.

This pattern continued all the way to the finale, the fourth movement. Agatha was practically jumping up and down on the podium as she conducted the opening phrase. Once again, you forced yourself to just concentrate on the music, and as the movement progressed you became bewitched from watching Agatha conduct. You had always understood why Agatha was as successful as she was. She was driven, motivated, beyond musically gifted. But there was one thing you had always failed to notice. When Agatha was on the podium, she could be herself. In these moments where she had her baton and the orchestra in front of her was when she was her most vulnerable. She was incredible and spellbinding, and you were hopelessly in love with her.

The ending of the last minute was a swell of notes from the brass section and a melody that sent the first violins high up on the fingerboard. It was extremely challenging to play in tune without falling behind, but you managed to do it. When Agatha conducted the final chord, you felt as if you were going to fall out of your chair. It was over, you did it. There was an outburst of applause from the audience, you lost track of how many times Agatha walked off and on stage from the standing ovations. You don’t even remember walking off stage and packing up your violin, or congratulating Monica and your friends in the MSO. You barely remembered the walk to Agatha’s office, until you were knocking on the door.

Agatha opened it and gave you that special smile she seemed to have reserved just for you. “Darling, come in. I’m so proud of you. How did it feel to perform?”

“It felt incredible,” You admitted, giving her a curious look. “Did you plan all of this tonight so I could perform?”

“Not all of it,” Agatha corrected you, but she was still smiling. “I knew you were more than capable of doing this, and I wanted to remind you.”

As soon as she said those words it all started to make sense. “You thought I’d change my mind about Vienna.”

Your words seemed to startle the conductor, who looked at you in surprise. “I didn’t-”

You cut her off with, “I know you know, Agatha.”

“How?” She asked, genuinely curious.

“Natasha mentioned how happy she was that I called her assistant earlier this morning and changed my mind,” You repeated what Natasha had told you during intermission.

“You know, I should be the one who’s angry with you, dear,” Agatha pointed out, as she placed her baton on her desk.

Of course she’d say that. Sighing, you moved closer to her. “How do you figure?”

“You had weeks to tell me about Vienna, and you didn’t,” Agatha remarked, and you detected some hurt in her tone. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“There was no point in telling you when I already made up my mind,” You stated, growing irritated with her. “I don’t want to move to Vienna, I want to be with you.”

“You can’t be my assistant forever,” Agatha argued, leaning against her desk. “And this is a solid job opportunity, Y/N. It would be foolish to turn it down.”

Throwing your head back in frustration, you took a deep breath before replying. “I already turned it down, Agatha. It was my decision, why can’t you accept that? Do you really not want me to stay?”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Yes, Y/N. I absolutely loathe having you here. This is all part of my master plan to get rid of you.”

“Real mature,” You quipped, losing interest in arguing with her. “How did you even find out about my audition?”

“Wanda mentioned something about Natasha Romanov the other day, and I did some digging,” Agatha replied, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. “It wasn’t that hard to put the pieces together. I didn’t even know you had gotten the job until I called Romanov’s assistant and pretended to be you.”

You stared at her in disbelief. “You went through all of that work instead of just asking me?”

“In my defense, would you have told me?” Agatha asked, and you realized she had a point.

“I don’t know.” You looked guiltily at her. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you.”

Agatha waved a hand at your apology before pulling you closer to her. “It’s okay darling, I’m not angry.”

You nestled your face in her neck before mumbling, “I’m still not taking that job though. We’re going to be okay, right?”

Agatha stroked your hair and for a moment you thought you felt her breath hitch. “Of course dear, of course we are.”

The next week passed by slowly as the post concert high began to wear off. Agatha had given you the week off work, which you didn’t realize you needed until you slept for over 16 hours straight from exhaustion. Things with Agatha were a little better after your discussion post concert, but there was still something that felt off. You didn’t know how to describe it, and maybe it was just your anxiety messing with you, but Agatha felt distant. She had invited you to spend the week at her townhouse, and you hoped that meant you would spend more time together but you’d barely seen the conductor- she’d spent the majority of her time at the office while you puttered around her home.

A week after the concert you were in bed reading a book when she sent you a text to meet her at the concert hall, and to bring your violin. You arrived nearly an hour later, out of breath as you practically ran the last few blocks. The lights were dim throughout the hall, save for the stage, where Agatha was sitting, waiting for you. As you approached her, you noticed how distracted she appeared to be.

“Hey, sorry it took me so long. I tried to get a cab but traffic was crazy so I ended up just walking.” you explained, still trying to catch your breath. Agatha didn’t say anything, so you continued. “I forgot my music at home, what did you want to work on?”

Agatha sighed, and ran her fingers through her hair. “Y/N, we need to talk.”

You felt your heartbeat stop at her words, and you tried to tell yourself it was probably nothing bad. It couldn’t be anything bad, right? “Okay, talk about what?”

The moment she met your eyes was when you knew it was over.

“No,” You managed to get out, looking at her as tears threatened to escape. “No, no, no, no.”

Agatha took a deep breath, before standing up. “Y/N, please don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.”

Her words sounded so cold and distant, but you could barely hear her over the sounds of your pulse ringing in your ears. Your chest slowly tightened, and you could barely breathe as you fought the tears hard, unwilling to cry in front of her. Taking a shaky breath, you shook your head. “I don’t understand. What did I do wrong? I thought we were happy. I thought you were happy. Am I not making you happy?”

“This isn’t about my happiness, Y/N, it’s about you,” Agatha said gently, and you couldn’t look at her. You knew if you did you’d start crying and you wouldn’t be able to stop. “I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but this is for the best.”

“You have no right to tell me what will be the best thing for me, Agatha. That’s complete bullshit.”

Agatha sighed, as if she couldn’t believe you were reacting this way. “Y/N…”

The tears that you’d been fighting had finally started to fall. “This isn’t fair, you said we were going to be okay. You told me that.”

“I’m sorry,” Agatha whispered, and you finally looked up to find her staring at you as if she’d never see you again. “I’m sorry, but this is over. I can’t do this anymore.”

“So that’s it?” You questioned. “We’re over? Just like that?”

“I’m not going to allow you to throw away your career because of me,” Agatha retorted, growing more annoyed. “And don’t act like this is so easy for me. I lo-”

Your eyes widened and Agatha’s quickly shut. Despite how quickly she cut herself off, you heard what she almost said. She loves you. Agatha Harkness loves you.

“I love you too,” You whispered, tears streaming down your face. “But you don’t have to do this. I’ll take the job in Vienna and we can stay together, okay? Wouldn’t that be okay?” Agatha remained silent and you tried again. “Please?”

“A clean break is for the best,” Agatha insisted, even as you continued to cry. “You’re going to go to Vienna and flourish, Y/N. Your career is just beginning and I can’t wait to see how far you go.”

“Agatha, no, please.”

She gently wiped the tears from your face before cupping your cheek. “You’re going to be okay, I promise you will be. You’re going to look back at all of this one day and it will be nothing more than a fuzzy memory.”

“I don’t want that, I want you,” You protested, breaking free of her grasp. “Please, if you love me you won’t do this.”

“I’m doing this because I love you, darling,” Agatha corrected you, leaning in to kiss your forehead. Her lips lingered for an extra second and again you felt her breath hitch. As she pulled away, you watched her regain composure.

“Try not to forget any of our lessons, hm?” She reminded you, as she lightly grabbed your chin, but you refused to look at her. “Maybe one day you’ll be the soloist for this very orchestra.”

It felt as if time was slowing down, and there was nothing you could do but sit on the stage and listen to Agatha attempt to rationalize why this was a good idea. As she was speaking you knew her mind was made up, and it didn’t matter how much you cried or begged, she wasn’t going to change it. You realized then that one of the most challenging parts of falling in love with her was coming to the realization that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t save yourself from having your heart shattered if she changed her fickle mind about you. In a strange way, this felt inevitable.

It was a lot like performing, in a way. When you were in the midst of a performance, it was pure ecstasy, and you would ride off that high until the very end. It felt like you were flying, and every movement of your bow sent you higher and higher through the sky. But there was always the fear of falling, of missing an entrance or not hitting the right note, and that would send you plummeting to the ground. Practice could eliminate many of those errors, but you’d learned over the years that sometimes life could throw you curveballs.This is what that felt like, as Agatha all but held your heart in her hands, letting it all fall. There was nothing else to be done, you had to let go.

You never felt like you really knew the right thing to say, and it always felt as if you figured it out when it was too late. But this was the first time you knew what you wanted to say, and you were finally sure. When you opened your mouth, you felt your throat clench from the pain that was aching in your chest. Taking a deep, shaky breath, you looked up to find her eyes locked on yours. “It’s okay, I’m going to be okay.”

It didn’t feel that way now, it felt like your world was collapsing, but you weren’t saying those words for yourself. You were saying them for her. The rational side of your brain was arguing that Agatha hadn’t been a part of your life for very long, but the few months you spent with her had more of a lasting impact on you than relationships that lasted for years.

You had learned a lot of things from Agatha- you had learned that she preferred her coffee to be scorching hot. You knew she was an incredible cook, and that she had a library full of books that would take you years to get through. She had a soft spot for Señor Scratchy, and she had a terrible sweet tooth. Even though she enjoyed terrorizing the interns, she was also fiercely protective of them against Hayward and anyone else who tried to harass them. And now, you realize, she has taught you one, last valuable lesson- nothing truly good can stay.

Agatha Harkness was one of the most complicated and absolutely infuriating individuals you had ever encountered, but you loved her. You had always loved her, and you probably always will. So now, you now had to do this for the both of you- to assuage whatever guilt she might be feeling and to gather the remains of your dignity.

Agatha froze, and you could see her tense up at your words, and you continued. “I’m going to be okay. You can let me go.”

In the countless hours you’d spent in the conductor’s presence, you never saw her cry. But there was a single tear slowly streaming down her cheek, and you slowly wiped it off. “It’s okay, Agatha. I promise.” You weren’t sure who you were trying to convince, her or you.

Closing her eyes, she placed her hand over yours, leaving it on her cheek. You weren’t sure how long you stayed that way, huddled together in the empty concert hall, but it was over all too soon when she finally took a step back. “You have a flight to catch, dear. The itinerary I had sent over stated that rehearsal starts tomorrow.”

Just as you went to tell her you didn’t have a plane ticket, or a suitcase packed, she pulled an envelope out of her coat pocket. Handing it to you, it was not a huge surprise when you found a one way plane ticket to Vienna inside. You felt your chest tighten again. “When did you buy this?”

“When I found out you got the job,” Agatha replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m horrified at the prospect of flying in coach, so it’s first class.”

Under normal circumstances you would have laughed, but you don’t think you were capable of that at the moment. “I don’t even have my luggage, or my passport.”

“I have a bag packed of all the things you’ve left at my place, and I’ll send over whatever else you need once you get settled,” Agatha countered, and after a pause continued with, “And Sam gave me your passport yesterday.” She pulled the passport out of her other pocket. At your horrified glance, she gently shushed you before you could get a word out. “He didn’t know what it was for, I said it was a surprise.”

She had done all of this because she knew it was the only way to get you on that plane. Now, you were still angry with her for making this decision without you, but you were running out of time. You both were. Standing up, you closed the distance between the two of you, and kissed her. Agatha’s lips melted into yours, and you tried to forget that this was the last time you’d be with her like this. Unlike many of the other times you kissed her, there was no desperation or urgency. You were just two people in love, getting ready to say goodbye. Your face was still soaked with tears when you finally pulled back, and you saw it was partially due to Agatha. The conductor’s single tear had turned into at least a dozen.

“I really do love you,” Agatha said, and you had never doubted that. “I hope you know that.” You did, you knew.

“I really love you too,” You said, your voice starting to crack from the sobs that were attempting to come out again.

“Hank will take you to the airport,” Agatha added, rolling out the suitcase she had hidden behind the stairs. You had still partially been in denial that you had to leave, and the closer it got didn’t make it any easier. The conductor kissed your forehead again, and gently stroked your hair before releasing you for the last time. “It’s time to go, darling.”

Walking out of the concert hall, with Agatha rolling your luggage out, you grabbed her hand, while telling yourself it was going to be okay. Every step was a painful reminder that you had seconds left with her. When you made it outside, you saw the town car parked out front, with Hank waiting. You had never been good at goodbyes, or dealing with change so you usually avoided them when you could. But there was no escaping Agatha, who politely waved Hank back in the car as she put your luggage in the trunk. This was it.

Agatha opened your door, and carefully placed your violin case in the backseat. “Don’t forget to loosen your pegs before you take off. Wouldn’t want any of the strings to break.”

You knew her well enough to know she was trying to make light of the situation, but she didn’t have to. “Thank you, for everything.”

“I meant it when I told you I saw a lot of potential in you,” Agatha said quietly, and was nervously fidgeting her hands. “You’re a lot more talented than you give yourself credit for, Y/N. You need to stop apologizing for taking up space, and start demanding more of it.” She cradled your face in her hands one last time, giving you a sweet and gentle kiss. “Knock ‘em dead.”

She helped you in the car, and you desperately wished for her to get in with you, but you knew she wouldn’t. It wasn’t until after she shut the door did reality finally sink in. You were leaving, without her. The car windows were tinted but you could make out Agatha standing there, watching you drive away until you rounded a corner and she disappeared. While the tears had flowed nonstop before, you found that now you couldn’t cry no matter how hard you tried. You just sat there, watching the city you spent years loving pass you by. The pain that had been building up in your chest had finally imploded, and left you numb.

You weren’t sure what the future would hold now. Vienna could be a complete waste of time, and maybe you would come back and try to reconcile with Agatha. There was a small voice in the back of your mind pointing out that there was also a chance you would love it there. It was impossible to say now with your heartbreak so fresh and still causing your entire body to ache with pain. So you did the only thing that would help right now. Pulling your headphones out of your bag, you put them on. Scrolling through your library of songs, you knew there was only one you wanted to hear.

Vitali’s Chaconne in G Minor. You sat back in your seat as the opening notes played. It was funny, in a way, thinking that all of this started because of this piece. You thought back to that fateful day in the concert hall, meeting Agatha for the first time. Who knew then that it would lead to all of this? Allowing your shattered heart to be soothed by the calming sound of the violin and piano, you looked at the plane ticket Agatha gave you. You didn’t know what was going to happen now, and you certainly didn’t know if you were ready for it. But if you had learned anything from Agatha, it was to worry less and act more. You didn’t have to have all of the answers, or any answer right now. All you had to do was get on that plane and perform.

Agatha Harkness had made you fall in love harder than you ever had before, and managed to crush every expectation of love you ever believed in the exact same way. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to forgive her for doing this, but that wasn’t important now. Turning your focus back on the music, you were reminded of how much you loved this piece. It was like Agatha said all those months ago, not enough violinists appreciated the beauty of a chaconne. But you did, and you intended to continue on wherever your journey took you next.

[suck-it-and-see-16]

It was Agatha's cooking all along

[zafirosreverie]

A virgin’s pray (Agatha x Fem!Reader) part 3

You rolled your eyes as you noticed someone approaching your house. Too bad you were on your way out and had no intention to be polite with them. You had a place to go and a witch to meet. 

You blushed a little at the thought of Agatha. Since that day in the forest (that left you with a basket full of little yellow flowers) you and the brunette had been “casually finding” each other in the same spot. It was something none of you talked about, but you both had noticed that whenever the other was using magic, the other felt theirs trying to join the practice. 

So, you did what felt natural and offered to help her. She laughed at first, saying that she didn’t need help, she was already one of the most powerful witches of the coven. You just rolled your eyes but after a few more times of “accidentally” interrupting her practice, she admitted that her magic felt stronger when you were around. 

Again, none of you wanted to think about it too much. You knew the stories, you knew what it was implying, that your presence made her magic stronger couldn’t be a good sign. And yet, none of you was willing to stop seeing the other, so you decided to practice in the forest, where you knew nobody would interrupt you. It didn’t take you a lot of time to become good friends.

“Miss Y/L/N!” You sighed as the person approached you

“Yes, Mr. Rowan?” you faked a smiled  

“Wonderful day, isn’t it?” he said

You raised an eyebrow and looked at the grey clouds above your heads. 

“Yeah, it sure is” you said “now, if you excuse me”

“Of course, the weather isn’t important right now” he said, standing right in front of you so you wouldn’t leave “I was wondering if you-”

“I know what you were wondering, Mr. Rowan” you interrupted him “and we both know the answer”

The man blinked, surprised by your attitude. Usually, you would indulge your suitors with a couple of smiles and a little more conversation before gently turning them down. But this time you were in a hurry, you needed to reach that pair of blue eyes that were increasingly etched in your mind, and you didn't feel like putting up with a clown like him at that moment.

"Miss Y/L/N" he said with a forced smile "I know you have your reservations about marriage, but I promise you that by my side you will have everything you want, I will even give you the moon if you ask me"

"With all due respect, Mr. Rowan, I can get the moon by myself" you rolled your eyes "let's not make this any longer. I really have things to do, so" you said, holding out your hand to him.

The man scowled furiously, but he reluctantly placed a small rock in your palm anyway. It was definitely not what he had expected, believing himself capable of conquering you with the typical lies everyone told. He seemed to forget that he was talking to the most powerful virgin in the coven.

"Have a nice day" you said, stuffing his heart into your pocket and running away before he could say anything else.

______________________________

"You should have made him promise the sun"

Agatha laughed heartily as you crossed your arms and stuck your tongue out at her. Of course she would know, she always seemed to know absolutely everything that was going on with you (another sign you were deliberately ignoring) and she was having a blast at your expense.

"stop laughing" you hit her shoulder "he probably would have cast a spell on me if it wasn't a sin to hurt a virgin"

"Yeah well, I wish he would have tried" she said "a criminal punishment is what he deserves"

"Why?" you raised an eyebrow "just for trying to woo me?"

"I think you've already made it clear that you're not interested in those things" she said, trying to sound nonchalant "they should leave you alone until you find your bond yourself"

You looked at her curiously, not missing the slight blush on her cheeks. You felt your magic again calling to hers and you couldn't help but smile. You knew you were already entering dangerous territory, but no one said magic was safe.

"So" you said, changing the subject "what are we learning today?"

"I thought some mind protection would be interesting" she said, grateful that you didn't push

"Oh, I know that one!" you said excitedly "ut sit mens mea et anima una, ut non pluat rubens madefacit animam meam, et magic oriatur de cineribus"

Agatha looked at you in surprise and rummaged through her book until she found the correct page, finding the exact words you had said. You smirked at her and she rolled her eyes fondly, ignoring the pang of emotion in her stomach.

"Sometimes you scare me" she told you "you sound like an encyclopedia of magic"

"Well, it's a virgin's job to help her witch when she doesn't remember her spells" you said.

The brunette muttered and turned to find a more open space where you could sit down and start practicing. She didn't say anything, but the only thing in her mind was that you had said "witch", leaving out wizards altogether.

________________________

"This is serious Evanora"

The matriarch said nothing, but she clenched her fists tightly as she looked through the trees, to where you and her daughter were laughing together. The older witch felt a pang of fear when you kissed Agatha's cheek and the grass around you turned to snow as a result.

She didn't want to believe it, she couldn't allow it. When Wren and Rowan had come to her to complain about your rejection, she had taken it as a mere tantrum on their part. Of course, you had every right to reject as many as you wanted, or on the contrary, choose who you wanted. But not her. Not Agatha.

Evanora was not stupid, she knew that behind your crystal smile and your eyes full of life, there was an enormous power hidden, waiting for the moment when a worthy vessel came into your life. You were the most powerful virgin in the coven, and anyone who married you would be the greatest warlock or witch.

And that couldn't be her daughter.

Agatha was rebellious, indifferent, and too ambitious for her own good and that of others. She was a selfish, unpredictable, and uncontrollable young woman. If she ever got her hands on your stone box, if you managed to purify her magic, only the night knew what she would be capable of.

She would be unstoppable and could take anything she wanted. You were a prize that Agatha was not worthy of.

She was silently grateful that the rumors were spreading fast, that your suitors were upset that you were hardly ever home to court you anymore. Because that gave her the opportunity to make amends, it was not too late. She could save you and the entire coven from Agatha.

And so would she.

_______________________________

KH’s tags: @agathaharkness-simp @jona-lea @milfdilflover @carnagewidow @roseclear

[televisionpromos]

Agatha: Darkhold Diaries (Disney+) First Look Preview HD - Kathryn Hahn WandaVision spinoff - Emmy-nominee Kathryn Hahn reprises her role as Agatha Harkness for a brand new Disney+ Marvel series coming later in 2024. Agatha: Darkhold Diaries will reveal more about the character first introduced in Marvel Studios’ WandaVision. Jac Schaefer, who served as head writer and executive producer on WandaVision, returns for Agatha: Darkhold Diaries.

[coriandercrickets]

✨𝓢𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓭 𝓪 𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓿𝓮𝓵𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓻𝓾𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 ✨

(Repost from diff account / This is my art)

[hollandwhore]

“this is chaos magic wanda”

[helloholidayhoe]

Hi - I’m really a big Wanda Stan, (not a toxic Wanda One - I promise!) I’m literally so obsessed w her character so I did a drawing of her in her full Scarlet Witch form from MOM!

(Yes, this also includes non-ytwashed Comic accurate Romani/Jewish Wanda - love her too! Lizzie’s performance is fantastic but make no mistake that comic Wanda is THE OG we deserved too ❤️)

[d4rkhold]

the quietest crescendo (Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader)

OVERVIEW: Your current piano tutor moves away to take up a new job in a different country, and you are left with a new teacher - a strange and alluring creature who inevitably draws you into her orbit. For what you didn’t know, her world was painted in a purple that was harsh and almost monstrous.

WORD COUNT: 3.7k 

WARNINGS: None in this chapter.

A/N: Hello everyone! Here’s an Agatha-related AU that I have been thinking about in my head for a few months (only for me to give into the urge of throwing all my ideas onto an actual draft and turning it into an actual fic)... This will be several chapters - however, I only have Chapter 1 finished and Chapter 2 roughly planned out. Special thanks to my two lovely friends who beta-read this for me (they won’t see this, but I LOVE YOU GUYS). Anyways, I hope you all enjoy reading this fic! (Also if you want to be added to a taglist for future chapters, feel free to let me know & DMs are always open). You can also find me on AO3 (same user as this one). 

“Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.” - Edgar Allen Poe.

Your curiosity had betrayed you tonight as you looked at the empty doorway and stopped to hear for any signs of movement nearby. Fluorescent lights from buildings and traffic signals out on the streets were the only illumination source where beams of light seeped through the large window of the hallway outside the office. The carpet under your feet, which was usually soft, felt like eggshells as you were conscious with each step you took, slowly making your way around the large oak desk. You couldn't tell if the murmuring noises you initially heard before entering the room were getting quieter or if your thumping heart was trying to drown out the unnerving commotion.

Exquisite paintings decorated the walls amongst dark green paint, and an unlit fireplace was concave within the walls of one side of the room. You noted the items on the desk: a simple lamp, a brooch with a motif you were unfamiliar with, and sheets of music scattering the desk's surface with scribbles of blue ink on them. You clutched the score in your arms tighter as you suddenly realised the strange sounds were getting louder. 

They seemed to be coming from one of the draws, which led you to open the top ones, only to find more arbitrary personal items within them. But when your hand reached the bottom drawer, the sounds ceased for a second. You almost thought you had imagined the whole unusual situation until you pulled open the drawer to reveal a charcoal-stained book with peculiar shapes and symbols on its cover - and to your dismay, it was glowing slightly amber. A lump formed in your throat, and you poked up above the desk's height to observe any movement in the hallway again.

Right, you had to do something about your terrible nosiness later, as now you had the book in your hands, heavier than you anticipated it to be. You grazed a hand over the jagged cover, eyes wide in awe of its peculiarity, for you had never seen something so unusual before. As you began to open it up to the first page, the murmuring noises started up again, but this time they were more aggressive and high-pitched, causing you to drop it unexpectedly.

As if the book itself had snitched on you, a familiar figure suddenly stood in the doorway, her eyes cold and piercing. You felt your throat go dry and your heart threatening to claw its way out of your chest as if it also didn’t want to be there at that moment.

“Aren’t you a nosey one, darling?” A low voice muttered from the other side of the room and you swore you saw a purple glint in her eye. She stepped into the office, shutting the door with a click, and you felt the world around you diminish. There was also the sheet music for Brahm’s Intermezzo, left forgotten and wrinkled, on the carpet floor near your shoes. You could not think of a better alternative to dying at that very moment.

---

The sound of laptop lids simultaneously shutting echoed throughout the lecture theatre. People around you shuffled in their seats, shoving laptops and books into bags, eager to head out and into the weekend. It wasn’t a surprise that the classroom today wasn’t packed as it usually was, considering that semester break was only a week away. “That’s it for today. Have a good weekend, and see you all next week.” Chattering filled the room that was jarringly silent about a few minutes ago. “Oh, and class - don’t forget your last quiz of the semester is due next week.” 

Physics was not your best subject, but it also wasn’t your worst. You enjoyed it a reasonable amount, but you were still trying to adjust to the amount of work that was expected of you. Yet, it was an interesting subject to learn about, as your class was currently learning about quantum physics which you really enjoyed. 

You were still typing away while almost a third of the theatre had already started to empty out. As you finished up typing a to-do list for the weekend, you felt the hard nudge of an elbow dig into your side. “Ouch! What was that for?!” You exclaimed. 

Darcy had an unamused look on her face. “Everyone is almost gone! Class is over; can’t you finish that later?” She crossed her arms. You sighed and rolled your eyes as you saved your notes and shut off your laptop. “You don’t have a single ounce of patience in you, do you?” You muttered, grabbing your things and shoving them in your bag.

“I really do not,” She grinned. “Anyways, it’s Friday, and Monica texted me earlier today asking if you want to grab a bite to eat and head back to her place. Kate’s coming as well,” You stood up and started to follow her out of the classroom. You and Darcy Lewis met during first-year physics and have become good friends ever since. She had told you that she was planning to go into astrophysics and thinking about doing a PhD afterwards. However yourself? Well, you weren’t too sure where you were heading but had some vague ideas about what you wanted to do.

You were just about to tell her you were keen to come along, but then you remembered the wrapped gift in your bag. Today was your last piano lesson with your teacher, Professor Woo (he always urged you to just call him Jimmy), and you wanted to give him a farewell gift. He was one of the state’s finest pianists and had stopped playing professionally a few years ago to become a piano teacher. Aside from his astounding skills, he was patient and got along with people of all ages. The reason for his resignation was that he was offered to mentor a group of young “prodigies” in New York, aiming to play professionally one day. Speaking of ‘playing professionally’, your mother had wanted you to become a professional pianist. You’ve been playing the piano since the age of ten - enrolled by your mother, who was a beautiful player herself and had played competitively during her youth. However, you always kept piano as a side hobby and nothing more, despite your mother’s frequent suggestions over the years that you had great potential and should pursue it further. 

You loved playing the piano. It was your catharsis through thick and thin; with each melody of every song you played, you could feel it unravel the tension of the day within your body. You weren’t the greatest player, but you were somewhat proficient and could keep up with a couple of relatively complex pieces after many hours of practice. 

“Crap… I have my last piano lesson with Jimmy today, and he’s moving away for good,” You sighed. “I won’t be able to make it tonight; I’m sorry.” 

“You’re so boring-” Darcy winced as you punched her shoulder playfully. “Ouch, I was just kidding!” You laughed at her reaction, and she stuck her tongue out at you. 

The two of you exited through the doors and saw Monica leaning against the wall. She was holding a stack of textbooks in her hands and perked up when she saw you and Darcy approaching. She seemed to struggle to balance the items in her arms as she tried to give the two of you a wave but struggled as she tried to prevent her books from falling onto the ground. “Hey, Monica… How’s it… Uhh… going?” Darcy’s eyes widened as she repeatedly looked at Monica and back down at the books in her hands as the two of you approached her. You held out your hands to Monica, who passed a couple of books and gave you a thankful look. 

“Oh Lord, thank you, Y/N,” She straightened her back. “Well… As you guys can see,” She cleared her throat. “It’s not looking too good for me… Professor Hayward said that our exam is in five weeks, so I decided to get some extra resources from the library because he teaches so badly. As well as that, my back has been killing me with all these books I have to carry around all day! I’m so over this week.” 

The three of you started to make your way outside. It was only the middle of Autumn, and you noticed that it became slightly colder every day. Star-shaped leaves of various shades of orange and brown scattered the ground like a mosaic of earthy hues while rows of trees stood unmovingly and bare in the still afternoon. “Oh yeah, Monica, Y/N said she’s not able to make it this evening because it’s her piano teacher’s last day. How lame of her, don’t you think?” You rolled your eyes upon seeing the smirk on Darcy’s face. “Darcy, don’t be a bully… It’s fine, Y/N, have a good lesson, okay?” Monica smiled.

“Alright, I’ll see you guys next week,” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as a cool breeze passed by. “Tell Kate I said ‘hi’.” Monica nodded and waved at you with her phone in hand. “We’ll text you! And of course.” Darcy was busy trampling the leaves on the side of the path, which produced a satisfying “crunch” every time she stood on one. As you turned to leave, you swore you heard a protest from Darcy as Monica urged her: “Hurry up, we still have to get food!” You chuckled to yourself as you started to make your way to your lesson. 

---

It only took around eight minutes to get from your last lecture to the music building you were so familiar with, situated just on the outskirts of the city. The building itself was considered ‘old’ to many who set their eyes upon it. It must have attained its prehistoric label due to the fact that there was an old church not so far away from it and how every other surrounding building seemed to appear relatively more modern. You often thought that the music building would’ve been renovated or upgraded by now, but it hadn’t been, and you were somewhat relieved. You loved it the way it was; its ‘oldness’ stuck out to you with its corinthian-styled pillars at the entrance and the tall archways that decorated the exterior and interior. 

Every time you stepped into the building, there was a feeling of something similar to sanctity in the air as you stood in the foyer, where an old resplendent chandelier hung elegantly from the high ceiling above you and groups of people lingered and talked before and after music lessons. You made your way through a set of large wooden doors and then proceeded to make your way up a set of stairs. The building was around four stories tall - and it wasn’t just pianists who were getting lessons: there were violinists, trumpeters, drummers, and many more to name. 

When you reached the top of the stairs, you made your way down the hallway, heading for the room where Jimmy always tutored you. Entering the small room, you let out a gentle huff as you placed your bag down and sat on the piano stool. Just after a few minutes, there was a knock on the door, and you perked up when you saw a familiar face poke around the corner with a warm smile. “How’s it going?” 

You crossed your arms in mock anger. “Actually, I’m not doing very well because somebody is moving to a different country to lead a bunch of tiny future Frédéric Chopins.” Jimmy laughed at that as he closed the door behind him and sat on the chair next to you. 

“‘Future Frédéric Chopins’... That’s funny.” He put down his own bag on the floor. “Well, there goes that humour I’m going to miss. As well as that, you’ve been a fantastic player and a pleasure to teach as always.”

“Thank you, but please don’t make me cry - the lesson hasn’t even started yet.”

45 minutes had passed, and Jimmy was going over some parts of Beethoven's ‘Für Elise.’ It was such a gentle and graceful piece to play - certainly one of your favourites. However, more often than not, you did slip up on the second section of the music - the more virtuosic part, which was relatively more complicated to play at a satisfactory speed. “You don’t need to rush. Just slow it down. Remember, we need to slowly build up our tempo and rhythm before diving right into this section.” Jimmy gave you an assuring look, and you nodded in acknowledgement. 

“Alright, I think that’s all.” He smiled warmly. “Well done today. You’re doing well. Beethoven would be proud, in my opinion.” You let out a small laugh, then remembered the gift you had for him. You almost jumped out of your seat, ignoring his quizzical look and pulled out a wrapped-up box from your bag to present to him. 

“You are very generous, thank you.” Jimmy smiled as he took the box from your hands. He began to unwrap the gift to reveal a woolly dark green scarf. He gave you an appreciative smile, which made you start to feel tears well in your eyes because you had reminded yourself that this was the last time you would most likely see him. You gave him a hug. “Thank you. It’s fantastic. This will definitely go well with the snow in New York.”

After a brief moment of shedding tears - which were mostly yours - and saying your goodbyes (and to your surprise, he presented you with a small gift as well), you both fetched your things. “Oh, I just remembered. The tutor who will replace me is in the building today. Do you want to meet her now? She won’t bite, I assure you.” Rolling your eyes, you scoffed with amusement. “Sure, it won’t hurt, I guess.” He chuckled and made his way out the door to fetch your new teacher, leaving you alone in the room.

For a moment, you stood alone in the small familiar room with the brown piano that was perched against the wall, trying to listen intently to the noises coming from nearby rooms. You could almost faintly hear the sound of a violin through sound-proof walls and light laughter coming from the stairwell. The building today was quieter than unusual — probably due to the fact that it was a Friday afternoon and the start of the semester break was closing in very soon. You turned and headed to the window to gaze outside, observing how the sky was becoming quite gloomy, threatening to rain later on. There were cars whizzing on the streets below, as well as the flowing crowds of people on the pavement, all hurrying to get to their destinations.

It was interesting to think about who would become your new tutor. In all honesty, you were somewhat nervous about meeting the person who would now be teaching you how to play Beethoven and so on. What if you didn’t get along with your new tutor, or what if the two of you wouldn’t see eye-to-eye? Some musicians you were acquainted with mentioned that some instrumentalists were excellent at playing but weren’t as good at teaching. Taking in a breath, you assured yourself that it would be a fresh start nevertheless and wouldn’t be that big of a deal. 

You continued to stare out the window until the gentle clearing of the throat all but caused you to break away from your daydream. Turning around, you saw Jimmy enter the room, followed by a woman who suddenly made the breath in your throat hitch. So much for not being a big deal, you thought. 

Aphrodite had nothing on her, for the woman had wavy brown hair that fell past her shoulders and cerulean-blue eyes which were more captivating than any ocean you’ve ever seen, urging you to sink and dive into the depths of her oceanic irises.

Jimmy closed the door. “You’re lucky that I caught her; she was just on her way out.” 

Hands in pockets, she made her way over to you, pulled out a hand, and held it in your direction. “Hello darling, the name’s Agatha Harkness.” She spoke, her voice low and alluring. In all her beauty, you noticed she had a mysterious demeanour, an unusual coolness and a formidable aura that surrounded her. As well as that, ever since she entered the room just minutes ago, you could faintly smell traces of lavender essence in the air. She was the earth's electromagnetic field, and you were drawn to her orbit, her mere presence making you want to shy away but be close to her simultaneously. You told yourself that you were just lonely in terms of romantic interests. Nobody really has piqued your curiosity for a long time - or as Darcy had bluntly put it: “You hardly leave your apartment, of course, you’re not going to find anyone to swoon over.” In all honesty, she was somewhat correct - you didn’t really go out that much as you were busy fretting over your studies most of the time. However, that led to you having a lack of experience with proper relationships and an occasional melancholic prick to the heart.

You took her hand and shook it, thumbs and fingers brushing against hers while you met her gaze, a sudden heat creeping over your collarbones. “‘I’m Y/N Y/L/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Professor Harkness.” 

A soft smirk formed on her lips. “Oh, the pleasure is all mine. Woo has been telling me how much of a lovely student you are. I’ll just have to wait and see how you play, though, my dear.” You felt your face grow warm, her sultry words and piercing gaze suddenly becoming too much. It took every inch of your body to resist averting your eyes to avoid coming off rude. How can one being subjected to Agatha’s sole attention threaten to ignite a smouldering fire within you? You thought to yourself.

“Harkness’ lessons with you will be at the same time and room on Fridays. There has been no change to the schedule, which makes it easy. She will be happy to discuss further matters with you later on.” Jimmy spoke and checked his watch, sighing. “Sorry to you both, but I have to get going. I have to get ready for a farewell gathering with some friends very soon.” You and Agatha bade your tutor a final goodbye and all the best for the future. Watching him walk through the bone-coloured hallways for the last time made you feel a wave of saturnine wash over you. But you smiled to yourself, knowing you’ll soon probably see his name in news articles and receive awards for leading an extraordinary ensemble in New York.

There wasn’t much to talk about between you and your soon-to-be tutor, which led to the two of you standing outside the music building after a short while Jimmy had left. Agatha’s effect on you was strange, for you were afraid to speak - intricately curating each response in your mind, and each time you spoke, your awkwardness was apparent to the woman. However, Agatha pretended to pay no mind to your sheepish behaviour, filing that slice of information away for later.

You sensed that it was time to part ways as the two of you stood outside on the pavement, the end of Autumn being evident as the evening was much colder today and the sun was starting to drift out of view, ready to trade places with the night very soon. Looking down, you watched as Agatha pulled out a pair of black leather gloves from her pocket and started to put them on, and only then did you notice her slender, pale fingers. The older woman in front of you cleared her throat, and your eyes shot up to her face, which she had an indecipherable look. Her mouth formed into a small curve. “I’ll see you next week, Y/N. It was a delight to meet you, dear.” Hearing your name fall from the tip of her tongue made your stomach coil and your throat dry up. It was as if you were an ocean, and she was drinking every single drop of water, savouring it slowly while you were suspended in time and immobile in your own body — sip by sip, you watched her take everything from you. 

Before you could reply, she had already turned around and started to make her way in the opposite direction, and you stood there on the pavement, watching the woman walk away from you. It could’ve almost been an ending scene of a film — her brown hair dancing gently in cooperation with the slight breeze and the people - who looked so ordinary compared to her - walked past her. She was like a goddess among mortals, and you wished for nothing but to be graced by her presence endlessly. 

Nearby, the church bells rang out - the long, deep sound you heard so frequently - but today, it sent an eerie shiver down your spine and reverberated in your chest. You then turned and made your way to a set of stairs close by, which led to the underground train, attempting to brush off the unusual feelings at the same time. 

The London Underground was teeming with people who, most of them, had finished work. Around you, you could hear the sounds of shoes hitting the concrete and light chatter amongst people who were also waiting for their ride home. Once you got on the train and sat down, you contemplated the weekend, silently cursing as you remembered you had to wake up early for work tomorrow morning at the bookstore. How annoying - you were looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow after a long week of staying up to study and waking up early for lectures. 

It was only for a small portion of the journey home that you were thinking about the coming events of the weekend until your thoughts had slowly drifted to your encounter today with the woman who was Agatha Harkness, for she had bewitched you in an unfamiliar and tantalising way. 

[lifespectator]

Y/n: Lmao! It was a trap.

Wanda: Right?! Villians these days. Lmao.

Agatha: When are you both going to stop adding "lmao" to every sentence you say?!

Wanda and Y/n: Lmao!

[grackleshells]

I made this Agatha edit forever ago and still love it dearly so I’m posting it here for posterity (and the Agatha enjoyers <3 )

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

Chaconne: Part Twelve (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Word Count: 4.1K

Summary: As the fall season progresses, and as tensions rise, Y/N decides on what to do about her relationship with Agatha Harkness and goes to an audition for Natasha Romanov

Link: Here is a link to the Chaconne playlist I made on Spotify :) I’ve posted the pieces mentioned in this chapter (Vivaldi, Paganini, and Wieniawski) and add in other songs as well

A/N: Hello Chaconne readers! It’s been a minute. I hope you’re all doing well. I apologize for the delay in updating, life has been very busy but I am determined to finish the first arc of Chaconne. I wanted to do a quick little note to address a musician who is listed in the story. It was brought to my attention that some of you may think Hilary Hahn is a fictional person I made up but she is real! Please google her. I love her. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter. We’re nearing the end! I think I’ve updated my tag list but if I left anyone off please remind me- I apologize if I did! As always thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave comments & my inbox is always open for messaging, it always makes my day to hear from y’all ❤️

Tag List: @anxiousgoldengirl @celasteria @danvers97 @imthedoctorlove @mcfriggingonagall @meowsaidmissy @scarletmeltstheice @shinkomiii @sxfwap @thestrangeundoing @upsidedowndanvers @venticalooks @vintagegoddess12 @thoroughly--confused @genderenvyeveryone @thewelshelk

Y/N POV

It had been twelve hours since the Times article had been published and you barely left your bedroom. A small part of you was aching to talk to Agatha, as you had grown accustomed to spending most of your waking hours in her presence. But those feelings of longing were outweighed by the heaviness you felt in your chest. You had so many questions, and you were unsure if getting answers would bring you out of this catatonic state.

Your brain replayed your last conversation with the conductor on a constant, agonizingly painful loop. It was pathetic really, but you couldn’t stop. Unfortunately those thoughts slowly transitioned to questioning every interaction you’d shared with Agatha and Wanda since starting your job. Every angry jab Agatha would throw in when the pianist was mentioned. How jealous she appeared whenever Wanda was in close proximity to you. All this time you had assumed the strange behavior was driven by her hatred of Wanda, and she didn’t want you associating with the pianist because of it. Now you were beginning to wonder if it was all some elaborate ruse to cover up an alleged affair.

Finally you couldn’t take your own self pity anymore; you needed to get out of your apartment. Fresh air would surely do you some good. Fall was in full swing in New York, and the cooler air sent a rush of adrenaline through your veins as you weaved through the crowds. You need to be somewhere calm to clear your head, which could be challenging while living in one of the busiest cities in the world. The most obvious choice would be to walk through Chelsea Market for coffee before taking a walk along the High Line. The mere thought of the park usually made you feel better, but instead you felt your chest ache at the memory of your most recent visit with Agatha.

Agatha throwing a fit as you insisted on taking the subway, and how you all but dragged her down the stairs of the station. Agatha, arrogant as ever, insisting on standing on the train and ultimately falling on your lap. Agatha holding your hand, intertwining your fingers as you strolled through The High Line. Agatha being carefree and the closest to happy you had ever seen. Agatha inviting you to her home. Agatha being domestic and cooking you dinner. Agatha humming under her breath, producing the most beautiful melody. Agatha watching you eat and admitting how much she enjoyed your company. Agatha, Agatha, Agatha. Always Agatha.

Your brain swirled with thoughts of the conductor until you couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to go somewhere to sort out your feelings, and clearly The High Line was the last place you should visit. But still, you needed to be outdoors. Racking your brain, you thought of one place you hadn’t ventured to in a while. It was a bit of a trek to get there, but today you seemed to have nothing but time on your hands.

The subway was unusually quiet this morning, once again reminding you of your time on the train with Agatha. No, you thought quietly, you needed to stop. Attempting to distract yourself, you began sorting through your purse, yet as the train made its first stop your mind once again wandered to the conductor. How she scrunched her nose at your suggestion to sit down, and how hard it was for you to reign in your laughter when she fell on your lap. A smile played at your lips before you remembered your current situation, and felt a familiar tug at your heart. You missed her. How was that even possible? You had spent the majority of your life without Agatha Harkness, yet only after a few months in her presence she was all you could think of. Thankfully you reached your stop before you could remind yourself of the painful reason why the conductor was always on your mind.

Exiting the station, you enjoyed the cool breeze that left you feeling comfortable enough in your light coat. There was nothing quite like fall in New York City. The crimson and carnelian leaves rustling in the wind around you seemed to bring Vivaldi’s Autumn to life. While you always looked forward to fall and winter, your violin did not feel the same. You were already dreading the extra time it would take you to tune, as the colder weather could cause the stringed instrument to go flat.

Luckily this was perfect walking weather, and you could already feel your brain fog clearing as you reached your destination; The Met Cloisters. As a child you always enjoyed your family trips to The Met, but adored the rare trip to The Cloisters even more. Nestled in Fort Tryon Park, it felt as if you had traveled through time. The Met Cloisters housed relics from the Middle Ages and it was unlike anything you’d experienced.

As much as you adored strolling through the various galleries and admiring the medieval art, or taking a walk through one of the gardens, there was one spot you were longing to visit; The West Terrace. It was your hidden oasis, and was one of the only spots in New York that sometimes made you forget you were in such a crowded and occasionally overwhelming city. Situated on the hill, it overlooked the Hudson River and often provided you a quiet space for thinking. During the fall it was a brilliant swirl of gold and red hues, which produced a stunning backdrop. The terrace was relatively vacant at this time of day, and you were thankful for the peace and quiet. For the first time all week, you felt better.

Finally turning on your phone, your heart sank at the number of messages from Agatha. As upset as you were, you knew you needed to at least tell her you were okay. You sent a quick text back, and you considered calling her when a different notification caught your eye and almost caused you to drop your phone. You had received an email from Natasha Romanov asking if you were available to meet later this evening for an audition.

Natasha Romanov was perhaps the greatest violinist you had ever seen live…well besides Hilary Hahn. With the stature and grace of a ballerina, she made every flourish of her bow and run up and down the fingerboard look elegant. You had followed her since the start of her career, and she became more popular as the years went on. Soon, you had seen news of her headlining every major orchestra. You religiously watched any recording of her performances you could find and even followed her on Instagram. The chance to audition for Natasha Romanov was one in a million, and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were.

But were you ready for that pressure? Performing for Natasha Romanov was quite a step up from being Agatha’s assistant, and were you ready for it? Sighing, you realized you were wasting precious time and it was almost noon. You would need at least an hour to get back to your apartment, and would need an additional hour to practice and prepare. It wouldn’t hurt to meet with Natasha. Surely the worst thing that could happen would be being rejected from her group, and you could handle that. Replying to Natasha’s email, you hurriedly left the museum to get ready.

Which is how you found yourself standing in the doorway of Natasha’s studio. Natasha Romanov was even more breathtaking in person. Her red hair was pulled back in a braid, and she was rehearsing what sounded like one of Paganini’s 24 Caprices. You watched her perform, eyes closed as she let her fingers guide her through the passages. It took you a moment to clock it as No. 4 in C Minor. While you often struggled to hit every double stop accurately and have your notes be in tune, Natasha made it look as easy as breathing. She moved from passage to passage with such ease and unwavering stamina, never relenting in intensity.

She eventually noticed you hovering in the doorway and stopped practicing. “Y/N?” Natasha asked, and you paused for a moment before nodding.

Natasha approached you and held out her hand, and you shook it and offered her a small smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Romanov, thank you for this audition.”

“Well Wanda’s told me a lot about you,” Natasha continued as you fidgeted with your violin case as you unpacked, putting a generous amount of rosin on your bow. “She seems to feel you have too much talent to be wasting away as someone’s assistant.”

Despite your conflicted feelings regarding Agatha, you still felt anger at the violinist’s words. “I’m not wasting away, and I happen to love my job.”

“Yet you wanted to meet me,” Natasha pointed out. “Which must mean some part of you is considering a change in careers.”

“I guess I might be reconsidering a few things,” you admitted, and felt a small pang of guilt at the admission.

Natasha let out a low hum. “You’re a violinist, Y/N, not someone’s secretary. There’s no shame in wanting to perform, is there?”

Despite the churning in your stomach, you knew Natasha had a point. This is what you’d dreamed for as long as you could remember; to be on stage with your violin. For all of the hours you chose to practice instead of going out with your friends. The strenuous lessons with passive aggressive professors that made you want to bash your head against a wall. Countless hours spent crying in practicing rooms after lessons with said professors. Recital preparation that required your undivided attention as you attempted to memorize and perfect every last bar. You had sacrificed everything for this. This was the life of a musician. Nothing came before the music.

After taking a few moments to tune your strings, you remained silent, stewing in your thoughts. It appeared Natasha noticed a change in your attitude. “What have you prepared for me?”

The most obvious answer would be Chaconne. It would be the safer choice, as it was the primary piece you’d been working on with Agatha. But you’d recently started a new concerto, one you’d been dying to play for years; and it happened to be one you knew Natasha was fond of.

“The first movement of Wieniawski’s Violin Concerto No. 2.”

That appeared to capture Natasha’s attention, as you watched the violinist lean against the grand piano with a curious expression on her face. “Interesting choice. I last played that with the-”

“The LA Philharmonic last November,” you blurted out, and Natasha stared at you, perplexed. “I went to the concert. You were incredible.”

Natasha hummed again, before nodding. “Thank you. It’s a rigorous piece, are you sure you can handle it?”

Normally you would have let your inner voice chime in with your unrelenting self-doubt, but you were reminded of a particularly grueling lesson with Agatha. There were three things Agatha loathed (in no particular order); Wanda Maximoff (although you wondered how true that was), TikTok, and cowardice.

It was a rather late evening in the symphony hall, and Agatha had just finished attempting to fix the way you held your bow, bringing up the importance of how to curve your fingers just so. Unfortunately, each time the conductor did this, she was standing right behind you, one hand on your waist, the other on the hand holding your bow. You swore she moved closer with every word of the dangers of holding the bow with an unbent thumb, and your brain practically short circuited as she whispered in your ear to “relax.”

As soon as she stepped back, you could all but feel her burning gaze, thankful she wasn’t able to see the burning in your cheeks. Clapping her hands together, she went to leave the stage in her usual flourish. “Now, dear, just as we practiced. When you position your bow on the string keep your posture relaxed enough to ensure your bow hand fingers will be able to bend,” Agatha instructed, and you nodded. You could do that, right?

Gently raising your violin to rest on your shoulder, you rolled your shoulders back and placed your bow on the string. Taking a quick glance at your bow hand, you internally panicked as you felt yourself tense up. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and tried to relax, just as Agatha had whispered in your ear mere moments ago. But the more you urged yourself to relax, you became more tense. Finally you shook your head and placed your violin under your arm as you looked out to Agatha.

“I can’t do it.”

The conductor sat in the front row, hands folded neatly and legs crossed. There was a curious expression on her face, not quite annoyed but not amused either. She stared at you for a bit of time, the silence growing through the vastly empty hall until she let out a low hum.

“Then get out,” she said simply, motioning to the door. “And come back when you’re ready to work.”

Giving her an incredulous look, you shook your head again. “But I am working. I’m doing everything you’re telling me, and I’m telling you that I can’t do this.”

You had struggled with your bow hold for as long as you could remember. Various teachers had fixed it to their liking, and unfortunately different teachers had different methods they swore by. Your undergraduate professor thought you to be an anomaly. He couldn’t fathom how you were able to keep your left hand relaxed enough to move up and down the fingerboard with ease, but struggled to keep your bow hand relaxed.

“There’s a difference between being unable to do something and being afraid to do it,” Agatha remarked. The same curious expression was on her face, but this time she made no attempt to join you on stage. “What are you afraid of?”

Her question was slightly probing, and it caught you off guard, yet you replied without even thinking. “Failure.”

“Then don’t fail,” Agatha countered, finally standing up. The click-clacking of her heels echoed throughout the hall as she walked onstage, standing across from you. “If this is what you want, you need to tune out any sense of self doubt. Out of all those people that will fill those seats,” she motioned to the empty hall in front of you, “there is going to be one person holding their breath, thinking that you’ll find a way to fuck up. Don’t let that person be you.”

Agatha wasn’t a very open person, but her words seemed oddly personal, causing you to wonder if she told herself the same thing before performances. It seemed the conductor realized she was being too vulnerable as she cleared her throat. “From the top.”

Coming back to reality, you shrugged as you fixed your shoulder rest. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

That earned you a smirk. “Well I see you’ve certainly spent enough time with Harkness.” Taking a seat at the table, Natasha nodded towards you. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Wieniawski’s concertos have always been a favorite of yours. As with most pieces composed during the romantic era, there were many lush and colorful passages, starting with the opening theme from the orchestra complete with thick cords and furious runs. Wieniawski’s Concerto No. 2 in D Minor was no different. The opening was around 2 minutes long before you came in. However since you were playing unaccompanied, you mentally hummed the last few bars the orchestra played before your entrance.

The main theme reminded you of the sweetest pain you could experience. It was the sort of yearning you felt when you had a broken heart. The swirling and moody passages went from fast runs up and down the fingerboard to sweet melodies as your violin sang its grief. Playing Wieniawski wasn’t for the faint of heart, as the late composer was considered to be one of the greatest violin virtuosos of all time. The first movement was filled with difficult double stops, arpeggios, and chromatic glissandos that left your fingers all but aching by the end.

Just as you finished a particularly challenging passage complete with double stops, Natasha raised a hand to stop you. “I’ll be in touch in a few days,” Natasha offered, and you had heard that line enough times to know what it meant. It was usually followed by a polite but curt email informing you they decided to ‘go in a different direction.’

Thanking the violinist, you left the studio with a clear destination in your mind. It was late, and you knew the smart choice would be to go home and sleep. But you never made the best decisions. Which is how you ended up on Agatha’s doorstep, violin case still in hand. After debating on whether to ring the doorbell or just go home, you decided you were being ridiculous and rang the doorbell.

A few moments later the door opened to reveal Agatha looking more exhausted than you’d ever seen. The dark circles under her eyes made you silently wonder if the conductor had gotten any sleep. You waited for something, anything. For her to yell at you for completely ignoring all her calls and messages. Or for her to slam the door in your face. Yet instead you got… nothing. Only Agatha staring at you as if she had seen a ghost.

You broke the awkward silence first. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late. I probably should’ve called.”

The conductor remained silent, and you wondered if you made the right choice in coming by unannounced. “Agatha…” Trailing off, you tried to find the right words to say. You knew you had needed the time to gather your thoughts, to know what you wanted to ask her. But somehow seeing her standing in front of you, looking as though she thought she’d never see you again, words failed you.

Clearing her throat, the conductor looked you up and down with a disapproving glance. “You look freezing, Y/N. Why aren’t you wearing a coat?” Gently reaching for your arm, she coaxed you inside, and you felt shivers from her touch. “You’re going to catch a cold, you need to be more careful.”

You were barely aware of anything else besides Agatha’s arm wrapped around your shoulders as she led you to her sitting room. She was quietly mumbling to herself, but you weren’t focusing enough to hear what she was saying. Motioning for you to sit on the couch she grabbed a blanket to wrap around you.

Señor Scratchy was on the armchair across from you, and Agatha gently picked him up, stroking his fur. “Would you like some tea?”

Feeling your stomach doing flip flops, you figured drinking anything might not be the best idea. “I’m alright, thank you.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the room as Agatha took a seat on the opposite end of the couch, still holding Señor Scratchy. Despite the conductor being closer to you in what felt like days, you felt further apart from her than ever. There was so much you wanted to say, but you didn’t know where to begin.

Agatha appeared to be lost as well. She was more stoic than you ever remembered her being, and you wondered if the backlash from the article was making its way around the board; more specifically if Hayward was trying to cause problems. As hard as you tried to read the conductor it appeared she put every wall you managed to knock down back up, essentially locking you out.

“I’m sorry for running out yesterday,” You said quietly, trying to get Agatha to look at you. “I should’ve stayed and let you explain. I didn’t know what to do.”

The conductor let out a low hum, as she appeared to be gathering her thoughts. “I can’t say I blame you.” Agatha finally looked up, and met your eyes. “I was hoping to tell you before the article was published but there was no time.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at her words. “You knew they were releasing it?”

“Only the night before,” Agatha explained gently, and you wondered if she was speaking this calmly for you or herself. “That's why I canceled the rehearsal. I have a friend who’s a reporter at The Times and they gave me a heads up.” She scoffed. “Although I’m not sure how much of a heads up it really was.”

“So you left to try and kill the story?” You guessed, realizing that explained the conductor’s strange behavior that night.

Agatha nodded. “As you can see I was quite unsuccessful.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry for not warning you.”

You wanted to say it was okay, and while you understood she had to have been under a tremendous amount of stress, you still had a few unanswered questions. “So it’s true?”

Agatha chuckled, and you wondered if you should’ve stayed quiet. “It’s true, but I haven’t talked to Wanda, much less seen her since Greece.” She noticed your downcast expression and sighed. “Y/N, it’s not what you think.”

You scoffed, attempting to stay calm. “So you didn’t have an affair with Wanda?”

Agatha arched an eyebrow at your tone, but continued on. “It was an indiscretion, and a mistake I believe I will regret for the rest of my life.” You stayed silent, stewing over her words, so she kept going. “It was over at the end of that summer. Wanda broke it off, and that’s that.”

“That’s that?” You asked quietly. “So you don’t…” trailing off, you quickly decided you didn’t want to know the answer to the question you were most worried about.

Agatha gently set Señor Scratchy down next to her before turning to look at you. “You have nothing to worry about, Y/N. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but there is absolutely nothing there.”

“You’re sure?”

“Wanda is incredibly infuriating and I am looking forward to being done with this concert series.” Agatha said, reaching across to grab your hand. “Do you trust me?”

That was an excellent question. Did you trust Agatha? On the outside the conductor appeared moody and stand-offish to the world. She had incredibly high standards, and was extremely demanding. You watched her make people cry in every MSO rehearsal, and had sent countless interns running for the hills. On paper Agatha should be the last person you trust.

But then there was the Agatha you knew. The brooding conductor who made sure you ate when you were stressed, and offered you rides home when leaving work too late. Agatha pushing you against the piano and kissing you. Agatha making you dinner and showing you her home. Agatha who made your insides feel like they were being filled with rays of sunshine every time she looked at you. You trusted Agatha. You loved her.

“I trust you,” you confirmed. “No more secrets?”

Agatha smirked. “What’s life without secrets darling?”

You wondered if you should bring up the audition you had with Natasha, when the beeping of your phone grabbed your attention, and you excused yourself as Agatha went to make tea. Going through your voicemail, you had one message from a number you didn’t recognize.

“Y/N, sorry to be calling so late. I know I said you’d hear from me in a few days, but I don’t see any point in delaying this. I want you to join my group in Vienna. I’ll have an official offer sent over in the morning. Take a few days to think it over.” There was a pause before Natasha added: “But this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Let me know whatever you decide.”

“Y/N?” Agatha’s voice rang out from the kitchen. “Have you eaten anything?”

Unfortunately you barely registered Agatha’s question as you replayed the voicemail; making sure you heard Natasha correctly. You made it in. You did it. The happiness and joy you felt was quickly replaced by looming dread. What were you going to tell Agatha?

“Y/N?” Agatha’s voice was growing closer. “Is everything alright?”

Agatha’s eyes searched yours, and you nodded, placing your phone in your back pocket. “Yeah, everything’s great.”

[thestarlightforge]

Did Netflix Heartstopper ever use girl in red for its soundtrack? Or am I imagining that?

Anyways, not me restarting Heartstopper, lol. Joe Locke and Kathryn Hahn were in Westview Mall on set of what is apparently now being called “Agnes of Westview”—it’s just like the 2021 Infinity Comic—and I’m losing my sh!t.

Reddit post

Billy, our Billy, is coming back, FINALLY.

So it’s time for Heartstopper round 2, I think 😆

[askthechaoticwitch]

And what about Agatha? Is she still in Westview?

"Yes, she is a harmless citizen of Westview, New Jersey, and now named Agnes. She's bound to suburban life with no memory of magic, and is unable to manipulate or hurt anyone else. She only remembers me as the newlywed girl nextdoor."