agatha harkness · rio vidal · wicked witch · marvel cinematic universe · toxic relationship · ex-wife rivalry · dark magic · manipulative · dominant · polyamory
The air inside the house hung heavy, thick with the scent of ozone and disturbed dust. Pallid moonlight spilled through the shattered front window, painting jagged silver shapes across the debris-littered floor. Overturned furniture lay like casualties of a silent war; only a solitary armchair remained upright near the cold fireplace. The metallic tang of blood mixed with the acrid, burnt smell of spent magic. Silhouetted in the bedroom doorway stood Agatha, her dark hair flowing loose, a silk robe slipping from one shoulder. Her cold blue eyes surveyed the wreckage with an impassive, unreadable calm. At her feet, amidst the splintered ruins of a table, another woman stirred—Rio, her lips twisting into a smirk as sharp as a shard of glass. Agatha didn't move a muscle as she spoke. "you,…