#agatha backstory

[d-z20]

The Ballad of Agatha Harkness

Big sad that we didn’t get more Agatha (and Rio) backstory so I’m taking matters into my to my own hands and taking us back to the very beginning. Might write the more smutty parts of the story (when we get there) as separate stories so you guys can choose whether you want to read that. So it’s all pre-canon

It's going to be like so so gay dude

Any feedback for the chapters is greatly appreciated :)

Click here for to find the story on AO3

Navigation

Chapter 1: Birth Under Darkness

Chapter 2: The Shadows of Youth

Chapter 3: Sorrow and Solace

Chapter 4: A Difference Punished

More chapters coming soon

[appropriatelystupid]

[devflamme]

begging you people to just be normal about today's episode. "oh we did not get an agathario kiss" "i dont care about billy" "worst episode ever"... but we did get a gay kiss in a MARVEL show on fucking DISNEY PLUS. isnt that something to be happy about? that we're getting more queer rep in marvel? or are people just watching the show for agatha and rio? fuck the lore then? fuck the storytelling? fuck everything? oh please

[michaun]

A long time ago, I loved someone.

[postureofashrimp]

Billy, after finding Tommy: oh her? yea so remember our old babysitter who like kind of had a bit of a thing with mom? yea so she's a ghost now and is not as evil and is like my spirit-guide/cool gay aunt figure

[snakes-sn-snails]

Love that Agatha did not get much of a redemption arc. She is kind of evil. She is kind of an asshole. She is still avoiding paying her dues to her wife and kid.

[aflawedfashion]

We still know almost nothing about Agatha and Rio's backstory, which I think just means Marvel owes us an entire series set in the past that goes into their history.

[batcavescolony]

Ok let's go back to this line from Agatha All Along

"it's underwater! There's a boy. It's a prank. They tricked him. He's gonna drown. it's a bad place. And the people, the family, there's no one to love him! He's got no one!"

Guys we're getting some Tommy lore and it's heart breaking💔 (we knew it would be).

[mayahawkeswife]

as much as i LOVE LOVE LOVE agathario… i really do hope people realize that this isn’t a romance show :/ idk just seeing all of the billy hate has been annoying as fuck imo. also people being just borderline homophobic towards him/joe ??? idk ???

like this show isn’t ABOUT the romance, it’s honestly been about family/family trauma/generational trauma. like this entire time. (agatha and alice and billy ft. their mommy issues like. also jen being a midwife, and honestly idrk about lilia but there’s gotta be something there too.)

also… there’s still 3 more episodes and i’m 85% sure episode 9 is ALLLLL about agatha and rio’s past. like guys there is still time !!! it’s called a slow burn they’re not going to randomly just kiss and make up in the middle of the series !!! we just also need to talk about this other main character for a bit !! because he is important too !! sorry ig !!!

anyways yeah no i could keep going i’m really annoyed rn :/

[vidalswife]

The Raven & The Witch

Word Count: 2,104

pairing: agatha harkness/rio vidal, salem timeline.

Summary: A young witch is a witch alone, the journey to power is a long one, and many fear what they do not understand. Agatha Harkness is a witch many fear. Only at eighteen did she make her mark, and in-grave her reputation on those of the world. She was outcast, isolated, and ostracized. A young witch with no friends, no family, meets a girl in the woods as she attempts to discover the secret of a raven, which has been tailing her for months.

author's note: as the days have been passing, ive been wondering on agatha and rio's past. when rio said, "how long has it been agatha" followed by, "since you got your hands on the darkhold and hid behind all that dark magic?" it started to make me think about their past. so im writing rio and agatha in salem, depicting a young (not underage) love, and how it lead to their current hatred of one another. im estimating the length of this fanfiction to be up to eight chapters. there will be smut within the fanfiction however there is none in this first chapter. minors, DNI. i hope you guys enjoy it! <3

When a young witch turns eighteen, she is allowed into the Witch’s Ward. The Ward is not a simple place, it is a maze inside of an enchanted library, and it leads to the ancient books of magic that fuel a witch and her knowledge. In a single pre-established coven there must only be one witch permitted per the year, and as the case with most covens are, they usually have more than one witch whom on her eighteenth birthday is ready to ascend. The maze inside of this ancient institution is most known for its merciless challenges and low survival rate. Sometimes three, maybe four witch-kin will enter, and none will return. Other times, many will enter, and only the one will return. Once a witch survives The Ward, she no longer will face challenges within it, and it will be open with all of its knowledge to any that can survive. Witches of all kinds dream of beating The Ward, but few have actually done so.

There is a tale of a young witch, bright for her age, and powerful among her coven. She was the sole victor of the maze.. at least for a moment. You see, soon after she emerged victorious from the race into Coventry, another witch surfaced. The established coven had never heard of this happening before, so they did the best they could to determine a new admission. They deemed the witch with the least injuries the strongest, and decided that she would be their new sister, but what was to be left of the other witch? She had survived as well, but they could not push back her entry for another year, there were more witches who would grow and age. The answer came to the coven just as quickly as they had decided their winner. On one formidable and dark night, the young witch who had suffered most, filled with vengeance and hatred, did not let her adversary achieve victory over her, taking the matters of ascension into her own, corrupt hands.

By the morning, the witch who was deemed the weakest emerged as part of her coven, with the other young girl gone, and never seen again. For many years the sisters searched for her, or a sign that she had been alive, but there was no sign. The weaker witch became one of great renown, a symbol of darkness, of all that a witch should try not to be. Witches around the world thought her a witch killer, a murderer, and a maniac. They ostracized her, abandoned her, and ran in fear from her. The coven’s leadership couldn’t bear to outcast or kill the witch, as she was the daughter of their most honored, and were not entirely sure what had happened that night. So, they instead ignored her. It was a lonely road for a witch all alone, until of course, she wasn’t alone.

_______________________

Agatha woke with the sun, its immense warmth flowing through the unshaded window of her chamber. Her body squirmed and began to stretch, as her eyes fluttered open. Her hair was a disheveled mess, and she wore only her undergarments. Her room was quite empty, except for some books and a small wardrobe.

She looked around in disappointment at her stockhouse, a subtle sigh escaping her lips. She was no stranger to loneliness, for the last year she had been the outcast of her coven, and witches alike. They all thought her a monster, but they didn’t know. They’d never want to know the truth, and she’d never tell them. If she were to be believed a witch killer, she would be deemed so.

But of course, it was hard on a young girl to face isolation, so inside, she burned, and faded. More and more with each day the young brunette found herself tempted to fall away from witchkind.

She would follow the same routines, waking with the early morning light, looking around her depressing chambers, dressing, dining, being avoided, attending the ward for a lesson, dining, undressing, and then falling to slumber with the rise of the moon. She never dared try anything new, not until she saw the raven atop the chimney of her mother’s station. It was a small, dark creature, but the longer she stared, the longer something seemed different. The laughter of young children skewed her mind away from the animal, as she watched them play with the witches her age. She scoffed, turning in the opposite direction, and retreating to her chambers. She didn’t notice that the raven watched her as she paced away.

The next few days were the same as always, wake, dress, dine, shun, lesson, dine, undress, and slumber, except the raven seemed to follow her. At first she was unsure if it was the same winged animal as before, but its brown, humanlike eyes were impossible to mistake. It followed her into the next week, and it began to arise anger in the witch. What bird dares mock her? What creature dares to follow and disturb her?

The raven became a symbol of frustration for Agatha, a reminder that she was alone and peculiar.

It followed her for months, brown eyes staring into her soul at every chance.

On the eve of her birthday, she decided that she had enough of the raven and it’s foolishness. She would get rid of it for good, and finally be at peace, without those beautiful brown eyes watching her at every turn. She waited inside her chambers, eyes glued to the raven which stood motionless across from her abode. It for once, did not have her in its eyesight, and she reveled in the fact that she would finally outsmart the desperate creature. The bird rose from its spot, flying off into the treeline. Agatha thought it odd the raven did not watch her on this night as it did many nights before, but she was too overcome with pride to think it anything but a coincidence.

The next morning, she woke with the sun, a warm smile entrancing her lips. Today she would conquer the raven, and then, maybe things could be different for her. She reached for the woven bag that lay atop her wardrobe, placing her spellbook within it. She wanted to be prepared for her battle with the bird. Knowing that the forest was typically warmer in the spring months, she dressed in a thinner fabriced skirt that surpassed her ankles and a white long-sleeved button down blouse. She did not wear shoes, as it was un-witchlike to walk in a forest unless barefoot. Her dressing may be looked down upon, seeing as she was expected to a lesson later that afternoon and may not have time to redress, but she must be comfortable when she faces her opponent. As the bell sounded to commence dining, she set off towards the treeline, her woven bag thrown over her shoulder, and her hair free to the wind.

As she met the entrance of the forest, she looked up to the height of the trees, wondering if she would find the raven in its nest. Agatha turned her head, making sure her coven could not see her. When she deemed it clear, she stepped into the everlasting ecosystem of trees, bushes, and plants.

Her plan was clear, she would track the raven, kill it, and then return to her lesson. The brunette looked around before slipping her bag from her shoulder. She pulled from it her spellbook, opening it to the page illuminated by a string between parchment. On the page was an incantation that was supposed to help her find the bird. Agatha read it over multiple times, memorizing the pronunciation and chant of the spell.

‘Venator factus est venatus, anhelitus invenias quo capis, et te ad raptorem capias’

With a deep breath, she looked ahead to the ensemble of green and then closed her eyes as she began to recite the incantation, “Venator factus est venatus, anhelitus invenias quo capis, et te ad raptorem capias.” She inhaled, repeating, “Venator factus est venatus, anhelitus invenias quo capis, et te ad raptorem capias.”

A warmth spread in her body, and she opened her eyes, in which a flash of purple was clear. She knew the spell had worked. Almost immediately, a path was found. It had no markers, yet Agatha knew exactly where to go. She wrapped around trees and boulders, stepped over a fallen greenery, and walked up a short incline in the terrain. She focused only on the raven, her mind filled with nothing but the image of its obnoxious brown eyes.

The spell led her to a creek. It was dark, and looked green from the reflection of the treetops, but not only that, there was another person. She was floating in the water with her eyes closed. Agatha noticed her hair floating atop the water’s surface, almost depicting a root-like symbol. Her eyes trailed down to her face, she looked angelic and not only that, she looked asleep.

That wasn’t the only thing she noticed about the other. Her body was uncovered, and she was naked. Lily pads covered her breasts, and the water was far too dark to see much else. This sent a rising heat to the brunette’s cheeks, and she was sure they were red. The witch contemplated leaving and acting as if she didn’t see a thing in the woods, but it was too late. Almost as soon as she began to think such a thing, the woman in the water spoke.

“Enjoying the view?”

Agatha’s cheeks were as hot as the sun, she couldn’t move anything in the moment. Her brow furrowed as she noticed how the woman’s eyes remained closed, begging the question of how she knew of her presence.

The stranger chuckled, and Agatha debated casting a spell on her. Something about the woman felt familiar, she couldn't place what, but she could feel that this was not their first encounter. Agatha began to speak, sighing as the words came out, “I was just looking for a raven— and you happened to be in my way.”

She took note of how the stranger’s lips curled in a smirk, and how her brow furrowed, “Looking for a raven? How come?”

Agatha realized she probably sounded crazy, and she felt a need to explain. “I’ve been tracking this bird– it won't stop following me, and my spell led me to you” in almost an instant, the witch’s hand flew atop her mouth. She realized her mistake and looked at the woman in the water with ferocious, squinted eyes. She didn’t know what to say, but she hoped the stranger would deem her insane and drop the interaction.

To the brunette’s surprise, she didn’t.

Instead, she watched as the woman opened her eyes and stood in the creek. The lily pads fell from her nipples and she stood in front of the witch completely naked, water dripping down her neck, breasts, and stomach. Yet, this wasn’t what Agatha was most concerned with, instead, it was her eyes. They were brown and beautiful, like the raven’s. In fact, Agatha was sure her eyes were the same as the raven’s.

The brunette’s eyes remained locked onto the brown eyed girl. They did not falter not once, not even as the stranger began to rise from the water and inch closer to Agatha.

They were only a breath apart, the woman’s eyes still captured by the other pair. Agatha spoke, aware of their closeness, “You’re—” but she was cut off.

The stranger’s lips were on hers, and she cupped her hand on the witch’s cheek. Those beautiful brown eyes disappeared behind her eyelids, and so Agatha’s eyes shut too. She hesitated at first, but as the time grew, she became filled with hunger and desire.

Their lips clashed together and the woman’s other hand was now wrapped around Agatha’s waist. The witch’s hands wrapped around her neck, one ending up buried in her wet hair.

They only parted when their lungs couldn’t deny the need for air anymore, and when they did, their eye contact resumed as if it never faded. Agatha only stared at the woman in shock, but then, she smirked.

“I knew you’d come, Agatha” she said, which resulted in a head tilt from the witch.

“Who are you?” she asked, biting her lip as her eyes trailed from the stranger’s eyes to her perfect figure.

“I’m Rio Vidal.”

Agatha smirked, crossing her arms.

“You’re a green witch, aren’t you?”

[to-be-a-dreamer]

Not to get too involved in discourse but “Agatha is a deeply traumatized person who is acting out of a place of hurt and deserves sympathy for the pain she's had to endure and understanding that the majority of her wrongdoings were committed out of desperation for survival” and “Intention doesn’t erase outcome and her pain doesn't undo the trauma and horror she's committed against others; her victims don't owe her forgiveness before redemption and it is reasonable for people who know nothing about her past to distrust her based on her reputation and the persona she displays” are both true statements that can coexist.

Please remember that "morally gray" means a person is neither good nor bad. Please do not reduce this incredibly complex character to entirely evil or entirely innocent because she is neither. She has done truly terrible, unforgivable things and is also a victim of cruelty and injustice. Let her be both.

[d-z20]

The Ballad of Agatha Harkness Chapter 2

Just a quick little filler chapter looking at what life was like for Agatha up to the age of 10 to help set up what I have planned next. All those with mommy issues might relate a little too much to my coming chapters.

Also available on AO3 here

As always feedback is welcomed particularly about bits you want to see written about re: Agatha's past.

< Previous Chapter

The Shadows of Youth

As days turned into weeks turned into years, Agatha’s upbringing was not filled with lullabies or bedtime stories but rather of incantations and the sharp scolding tones of her mother correcting her spellwork. The coven’s halls were her prison, and her mother’s lessons her chains; relentless training and rituals designed to forge her into the perfect vessel of power. Flight lessons where not moments of exhilaration but trials by fire - failure meant tumbling to the cold, unforgiving earth, bruising her small body and crushing any defiance that dared spark in her heart.

“Again,” Evanora’s voice would slice through the wind like a whip, devoid of pride or compassion.

And Agatha, trembling but determined, would push herself into the air once more, the scent of lightning filling her lungs. She learned early that love, or even acceptance, was conditional. When she did not meet expectations, Evanora’s displeasure manifested in harsh punishments or cold indifference. Evanora’s magical strength, which she wielded like a general commanding troops, was formidable. She spoke in Latin, her voice laced with incantations that made the air tremble and stone crack. To Agatha she was a storm - beautiful, powerful, and merciless - to the coven she was a fortress, they had seen what became of those who crossed her. Her magic was not just dazzling light but weapons that turned allies into ashes.

Beneath the cold and relentless regimen, something else stirred within Agatha. During her moments alone, the touch of an unseen presence comforted her in ways Evanora never did. It was like a breath of wind that brushed her cheek or a shadow flickering with uncharacteristic warmth. Though she couldn’t see her, Agatha sensed Rio - her watchful guardian who remained hidden unable to intervene but unwilling to abandon her observation, Rio felt a strange bond with Agatha, sensing that the child’s fate was bound to her own essence. 

One night, as Agatha traced the ancient runes carved under a wooden table, a chill ran down her spine.

“You are not alone,” a voice as soft as a sigh whispered through the dark.

Agatha shivered, her tiny hand pausing mid-stroke. The voice didn’t frighten her, not exactly. It was a reminder that the shadows in her life were not empty, that somewhere in the depths, a presence waited, watching, protecting.

But Evanora’s gaze was everywhere, a constant shadow that even the unseen visitor dared not challenge.

“Agatha,” her mother’s voice called sharply.

The young witch emerged from under the table, hiding the flicker of a smile that dared to rise. The lessons would continue, the training would grind on, but now, in the quiet of her heart, Agatha knew she was being watched over by a spirit more powerful than even her mother.

As Agatha resumed her practice of projecting her magic, purple sparking and stuttering from her palms, Evanora watched, lips pursed, eyes unblinking.

“You hesitate” she said, her tone sharp. “Hesitation is weakness. Again.”

Agatha swallowed, her small hands shaking as she forced her power to the surface. But for an instant, as the room pulsed with energy, she felt it. The shift in the air. The shadows around her deepening. Rio, just a breath away, unseen but still there.

Under Evanora’s relentless watch, Agatha’s early childhood passed in shadow. The faint notes of Greensleeves, woven into her memories, became a reminder of a world that whispered to her in the silence. And so, the girl born under darkness took her first steps on the path that would one day turn shadow into flame.

Next Chapter >

[hopelessfandomfreak]

rio defending agatha is so important to me

[homoneurosis]

feels like every agathario shipper just got drafted and sent to the the fix-it fic front lines

[michaun]

Are you really defending a noted serial killer? You creepy lurker.

[clarasdoctahs]

Alice overcoming a generational curse due to the groundwork of love and protection laid down by her mother and then to risk her life trying to protect Agatha from her mother who tried to destroy her only an hour later

Alice Wu-Gulliver the woman you are