#agatha x rio x fem!oc

[blvefilm]

If I can't Reach You

Word Count:2406

Warnings:None? Yearning? Slow-burn ish?

Pairings:Agatha x Rio x Fem!OC

Summary:Rio and Umbra are summoned to The Road.

Notes: This is part 2! I didn't mean to be so dramatic with the word count...wasn't even sure if I would do a second part initially. I tried to keep the dialogue pretty accurate. I hope you enjoy!

Part One Here

2026

The ground beneath my feet parts like a gaping maw and I am pulled into the dark- a suffocating mockery of my own. My form distorts, scatters, and reforms against the weight of the Earth as I am summoned elsewhere- the call a violent tug in my gut. 

Light breaches my coffin of dirt and tendrils of my being claw toward the opening. I emerge with distorted limbs, shifting to piece themselves back together, and a low growl of annoyance. 

Her emotions, more separate after all this time but still sewn into my being, filter through me like water. Amusement. Annoyance. Sadness. Longing. 

The dark voice that formed me bites into a thick vein in my mind. 

You are here to guide. To protect. To collect.

I turn to her, my shadows already seeking her out. A dark mirror to her fire. We twine together as if we are still one and she sends reassurance through our bond along with a pleading to play along. 

It's then that I notice she has taken her green witch form, and that we have an audience. 

The witch that has haunted our hearts for centuries stands before me, mouth agape. I freeze at her presence, tendrils twisting around me in agitation. I can’t identify the fluttering emotion that stirs within me when her gaze locks onto me for the first time- seeing me for what I am after years of shifting around Rio’s neck like a viper.

Rio squeezes my waist before stepping in front of me, and toward the odd group currently cringing away from us in horror. 

“Heard you were having a party.” She states with a grin as she brushes dirt from her torso.

“How did you-” Agatha sputters, hair in messy waves around her shoulders. 

“I was in the neighborhood.” she mockingly gasps and bows before her, brandishing a flower. “Surprise, My Lady.”

I am not shocked when the witch screams and lunges toward Rio in a rage, but the coven holding her back and shouting that they need her ignites my curiosity. 

I will myself completely corporeal and step flush with Rio’s back protectively. Agatha’s gaze flickers between the two of us with conflicting emotions before she spins with a grunt and walks in the other direction. The youngest of the coven, a teen boy whose love for black looked like it rivaled my own, follows after her.

I shove down the rising disappointment at her easy dismissal. 

Rio faces the remaining three witches before us. “What's up? I’m Rio.”

“Umbra.” My voice echoes hauntingly like a multitude of speakers were hidden amongst the limbs swaying above us. They flinch backward and glance around warily. 

“Hello.”

“Sup.”

“Hey.”

My other half cracks her neck ominously. 

“So you’re a green witch?” Asks the short woman with bright orange streaks through her inky hair. The one that bears the dark mark of a curse on her soul. 

“Um…Less a green witch. More like The Green Witch.” Rio’s voice drops so low I’m sure it rattled the bones of the trio- if their faces are anything to go by. I rest my chin against her shoulder and eye them with thinly veiled amusement. 

“And you are..?” The elegant woman in pink silk questions me warily. 

“She is my familiar.” Rio mutters, “We’re supposed to walk this thing right?”

I raise a brow, and pinch her side petulantly at being labeled a pet. 

“Yeah”

“Right that way.”

“Yes we are.”

They mumble over each other, physically leaning away from us. I must admit, I do enjoy being seen, even if they stink of fear. 

“Wow. Witches Road, huh?” States Rio as she skips ahead with crisp leaves crunching beneath her feet. 

She must sense my apprehension at the reference, mentally tugging me along. The trio still stare unblinkingly and I simply shrug and trail behind her gracefully. 

The false moon drapes strings of light between the branches of the forest around us, the shadows they cast take the shape of boney hands reaching out eerily. I ignore Rio’s sardonic remarks as she too eyes the foliage around her, choosing instead to listen in on the conversation occurring behind me. 

“So, what do we think? Can we trust her?”

“We know nothing about her.”

“We know Agatha hates her. I’d say that goes in the ‘pro’ column.” 

I smile fondly when she begins to swing her knife in the air, movements sporadic and violent. Rio has always relished in the fear her mere presence seemed to strike in those around her, often leaning into it as she was now. 

“Honestly I don’t know how to feel. Do I hate her? Or do I want her number?” 

“Same.”

“Right?”

I chuckle softly in agreement, sliding a tendril of darkness along her jaw teasingly as her lips quirk into a smirk. She whips to face them swiftly, startling them for her own amusement. 

Honestly, they were close enough that even a human could hear them. I’m not sure what they are thinking.  

“Rio.” I croon sweetly in an attempt to give the poor coven’s heart rates a break. 

“What scary bitches.” The Sicilian woman with a messy top knot mumbles after we continue walking forward. 

“Why are we playing with our food this time?” I question softly once we are a few paces ahead, hand sliding down her arm to curl my fingers with hers. 

She’s quiet for a moment, and I tune into our bond to ride the crashing wave of thoughts and emotions along with her. I hum thoughtfully squeezing her hand, and she returns the gesture. 

She doesn’t have to say it. She is doing this for our little witch. 

The same little witch we are currently closing in on, teen right on her tail. I note an odd waver to his form. As if a piece of him is splitting from the rest and his edges are blurred. Sharing a look with Rio, I know she sees the same thing. 

We cluster together as Agatha draws to a halt, staring ahead at a dimly lit house with an angled roof that sits idly in a clearing- as if the trees themselves wanted to keep their distance. 

“Pass.” States the cursed witch flatly, spinning to walk in the opposite direction. 

“Uh oh. Mutiny already?” 

Agatha sighs, ignoring Rio and pushing past her in a swirl of navy fabric to call after the disgruntled witch. 

The rest of us share an awkward glance before retracing our footsteps along the path, drawing close to Agatha as she questions the woman’s plan with obvious frustration. 

“Go back, Go around. Go anywhere but in that house.” She grouses only to gasp and stop in her tracks when The Road leads her right back to it. 

“Uh…I agree, but The Road clearly does not.” Utters Agatha, spreading her hands before her with a shrug. “So, I guess we go.”

The coven walks forward cautiously, sending pitying looks back to the woman who remains hunched with uncertainty. I slide past her as well and don’t glance back- keeping my eyes on the only two figures they ever sought out.  

Rio continues to twirl the flower between her fingers as they chatter about the moon on the wooden front porch, a forlorn expression marring her features that is quickly wiped away when any eyes drift toward her. 

I edge closer and nudge her with my shoulder tenderly, waiting until her warm brown stare meets mine to supply a soft smile. Her lips twitch, not a full grin, and she tugs a strand of my hair playfully- stepping away when Agatha finally swings the door open. 

The room is drenched in shades of fire. Reds, oranges, and yellows culminate to mimic a flame. Various instruments crowd the center of the room, and it has a distinct 70s style with funky carpets and a patterned room divider. 

I’m reassured of my assumptions when I glance down to see we have all been draped in costumes like dolls. Leather pants embossed with jeweled skulls cling to my legs while my torso is strapped into a glittery top that digs into my shoulders gratingly. 

“Don’t drink anything. Don’t eat anything. Don’t touch anything.” Warns who I now know is Alice, having learned their names from their squabbling on the porch.

Rio smirks her way with wide eyes, “Feels like there's a story there.”

“Oh. Check me out!” Calls Agatha as she purses her lips sensually at her reflection. 

I am happy to oblige, ogling the deep V of her top heatedly. Her eyes clash with mine briefly, twitching back to herself with a grimace as if she didn’t mean to allow herself that little glimpse. 

“I mean, seriously, we are an album cover waiting to happen.” Quips Teen, his hair now shaggy and shoulders draped in a light blue fur coat.

My stare is drawn to Rio, hair pulled up to reveal her slender throat and V neck plunging in a similar fashion to Agatha’s, much to my delight. 

“What’s going to happen next?” She questions with glee as she leans forward suggestively.

Teen offers up the idea of looking for clues and the group dissipates in different directions, leaving us three and the gaping chasm between us. I remain silent, ever the observer at Lady Death’s side as she molds herself to Agatha’s back and regards her languidly in the mirror.

“Boo.” She whispers, her lips brush against the witch’s ear and I shift closer at the sight, only pausing when Agatha slowly turns to face us. 

“No.” She denies flatly, whether for her own reassurance or because she actually meant it- I couldn’t tell. 

My brows cinch at the sting of Rio’s emotion through the bond- the rope between us growing barbs. She steps past us, close enough that her arm brushes mine and the cloying scent of spiced clove wraps around me. Such a miniscule thing, but it immediately imbeds itself in my mind as the first time we’ve touched. 

Rio and I don’t have to discuss our intentions, both following her resolutely as she disappears through a doorway. 

“Knock, Knock.” Rio sings. 

We enter the recording booth without waiting for a response, I rest against a dark portion of the wall as Rio steps right up to her. “How’s the quest for power going?” 

“It’s going.”

“Who are these people?” She asks incredulously, staring through the tinted glass at the coven that’s currently shuffling through the other room in search of clues. 

“Who is she?” Agatha diverts attention to my wispy figure, always one to revert to mockery and sarcasm. A small part of me jumps at the attention.

“I am her.”

“And she is me.” Rio finishes with a smirk. 

Her blue eyes flicker between us as she runs her tongue along her teeth. “Mhm.” 

Her tone conveys her confusion, and I suspect, a hint of jealousy. I glide closer, voice dropping to a low tone. “I was merely a piece of her soul before I was torn away and spit out. I am an act of balance. Where she hesitates, I do not.” 

“So..” She draws the word out to urge us forward. 

“I am her.” 

“And she is me.” We repeat. 

“Clarifying.” She mutters, tossing her hair over her shoulder. 

“I am Umbra, her other half. Her shadow.” I sigh, a confusing mix of emotions churn within me at the strangeness of it all. I have centuries of memories that are not my own, fuzzy, but they are what made me, me. The soft moments we, they, shared along with the heartbreak. The days Rio and I watched her from a distance… To her, though, I am merely a stranger. 

One that is strikingly close to her ex-lover.

“I’m feeling impatient,” Rio interrupts our heated eye contact with an agitated nod- whipping out her dagger. “I’m feeling like I wanna cause some damage.”

Agatha slumps in her chair, “You’re too early.”

“It wasn’t up to me. Magic, as it often does,” she leans back against the various controls on the panel that borders the glass window, “Chose the path of least resistance. Ferried the closest, most appropriate candidate down. Or up.” 

Agatha chews on her cheek thoughtfully, arms crossed, and narrowed eyes directed at Teen through the glass. 

“Why did you bring that boy?” I question, intrigued by his odd presence amongst the group. 

“Oh…Many hands.” She mutters cryptically. 

I note the miniscule flash of panic in her gaze when Rio turns her calculating stare to him. Her usual mask falls back into place a second later as she stands and sways toward us. 

“Maybe The Road is like Switzerland. What if we just call a truce?”

I sidle closer to Rio as she mulls over her words. I can feel her doubt, but I can also feel the tiniest sliver of hope. Agatha’s eyes track how we lean against each other with familiarity, before twitching her gaze back to Rio's face. 

“Just one more big adventure,” She continues, “You and me.”

I clear my throat.

“And you.” She adds with a wave. 

Rio rolls her head on her shoulders, I suspect to break eye contact. It’s always been hard for her to deny Agatha when she gazes at her like that- especially with the guilt that incessantly claws at her heart for how they ended.

“I just need these witches to get me to the end. So you tell me, what happens next?” Agatha’s tone drops to a sultry whisper at the end of her sentence. 

“I get the pleasure of watching you do what you do best, kill all the witches around you. One by one.” Rio murmurs. 

“Then what?” Agatha urges her to continue, and from the corner of my eye I note the forms of the ragtag coven crowding the booth. A look of trepidation carves their features. 

“You get your power, and I get my bodies.” 

“Hey! That’s my coven you’re talking about. I’m not that kind of witch anymore!” She gasps theatrically.

It’s then that we both note her fingers on the intercom button, projecting the conversation to the now agitated group. Their muffled yells echo through the glass as Rio drops her head with a derisive chuckle. 

My brows fall low in exasperation. “You-” A shrill screech cuts through all other noise, causing all but Rio and I to hunch in pain and smack their hands over their ears. 

[sukunasbow]

hii which should i post first

(not gonna spoil details of what each one is..just who it’s for)

[blvefilm]

Let My Song Teach You

Word Count 4805

Warnings Canon-typical violence, profanity

Pairing Agatha x Rio x Fem!oc

Summary The trial continues and Umbra finds herself struggling to maintain balance.

Notes this is part 3! I took some time to plot ahead since I was just feeling this out initially- I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 / Her Shadow Here

Part 2 / If I Can't Reach You Here

The incessant wailing of pained witches is a familiar sound, but it grates on the senses all the same- my shadows writhe at the shrill cacophony.

Agatha, having immediately rushed toward Teen when it began, seizes the record player. She hoists it high above her head with a snarl before slamming it against the wooden planks. The shattered pieces scatter across the floor, but she doesn’t stop there. Even once the noise quiets, she stomps it with a relentless fury. 

I’ve always thought Agatha looks magnificent when she’s angry.

Rio and I stand side by side just behind Lilia, watching the chaotic sequence of events with measured calm. For a few beats the only sound in the room is Agatha’s ragged breathing.

“We’ve been cursed.” Lilia states gravely, her eyes looking comically wide with her Liza Minnelli lashes.

A metronome sat atop the dark oak piano begins to tick ominously. 

“I think this means the trial started.” Rio chuckles, gesturing to the timer with her blade. I can’t help but grin- her amusement is infectious. Quite literally, in my case. 

“Why are you smiling?” Questions Jen, incredulous.

“They’re tourists.” Dismisses Agatha, shimmering gold pants catching the light. 

“They’re psychos.” Jen corrects, shooting her a sharp look. 

Rio nods, grin spreading too wide, the red lighting casting eerie shadows on her face. Jen instinctively steps back, heeled boots clicking against the floor.

The coven exchanges uneasy glances as they wait for something, anything, to strike.

“...And nothing is happening.” Teen murmurs, voice tinged with tentative hope. “Maybe this curse isn’t so bad.”

Agatha shakes her head at him with a weary sigh. 

My attention is drawn to Alice who rolls her shoulders, staring down at herself in confusion. “Does anybody feel...” She allows the word to trail and I can feel the entire room lean forward.

“What?” Urges Lilia, dread thick in her voice.

“I feel…lighter?” She says, tone lilting at the end in question and a shade of relief. 

I raise a brow in muted shock when Lilia’s honey colored fur coat begins to smoke. A second later she falls to the ground screaming in pain, an odd tangle of limbs against the invisible fire that could be heard sizzling over her skin. 

I despise the smell of burning witch.

“What is it, Lilia? What’s wrong?” Questions Teen as he runs to her alongside Alice. 

Rio and I share a glance, my head tilting toward the flailing witch in question when she shakes her head ‘no’ in denial at my request to offer help. I purse my lips in agitation at the senseless theatrics of this whole facade.

She was always the one who enjoyed games.

“What's doing that to her?” Jennifer yells, looking quite frazzled in her flower crown. 

“How do we stop it?” Teen turns to Agatha with his question and she can only stare, dumbstruck. 

“Alice, protect her!” Kale demands, voice dropping in desperation.

At the sound of her name, Alice jerks away from Lilia’s crumpled form, turning to Rio with a huffed, ”Can I borrow this?” 

Rio willingly releases the dagger, and Alice swiftly raises it high above her head, slashing in a downward arc until it thunks into the wooden planks. She makes quick work of  carving a circle around the whimpering woman while chanting harshly in Latin.

Lilia’s frame jolts as the curse is expelled from her, and she takes a moment to collect herself before weakly rising with Alice’s help. 

“I need you to draw one of those circles around me, right now.” Jen inserts from beside Agatha. 

Everyone ignores the comment as Rio glides toward the crescent shaped couch, flopping down and meeting my gaze from beneath her lashes as she leisurely crosses her legs. 

“So, uh…Breaking a curse. Smudge sticks? A salt bath?” Teen stutters out, beginning to pace. “What if we locate and reason with the witch who cast the curse?”

I’m tempted to roll my eyes at that, and Rio’s mirth cycles back to me.

“Once vengeance is loosed, you can’t real it back in.” Mutters Agatha, gloved hands curling in agitation. 

“So, what do we do?” 

“The only way to end the curse is to face it.” Lilia supplies shakily.

The ominous words barely leave her lips when Jen crumples to the ground in a blur of pink, her screams slicing through the air a pitch sharper than Lilia’s. Agatha cringes away from her as if it will jump to her next- which, it might, I suppose. 

Alice is at Jen’s side in an instant, frantically carving the protection circle while the potions witch begs for her to hurry.

“Her shoulders.” Teen breathes, horrified, as the circle seals with a faint shimmer. 

The cut-out neckline of Jen’s flowing dress reveals her once flawless shoulders, now marred by jagged strips of charred flesh. I let out a low whistle at the damage, and Teen shoots me a disapproving look. 

“Do I have one too?” Lilia whispers, tugging at her neckline to expose the same grisly sight etched into her skin.

I feel the electric charge in the air before the deep vibrations of a rumbling growl quakes the floor. 

The witches gasp as a sudden torrent of magic spirals through the room, whipping everyone's hair and frilly clothing violently. A demonic screech circles like a predator seeking its prey, the sound drilling into our eardrums. 

“What is that?” Someone asks, voice barely audible.

“That’s the curse.” Rio offers, unbothered, her face obscured by a magazine.

Agatha takes a step back, unwittingly colliding into me. The warmth of her frame lurches away just as quickly when my hands automatically find her hips to steady her. Her sharp blue eyes snap to mine, brimming with accusation. 

I meet her glare with a slow smile, unable to resist.

“The backwards record!” Exclaims Teen.

Alice shuffles the broken pieces of the record together, exhaling heavily when they reveal the one song that she can never escape. 

Agatha, feeling the pressure of the situation and likely wanting to get further away from me, rushes to Alice’s crouched figure and pulls her up by the shoulders- Giving her a shake.

“It’s you isn’t it? You brought it in here!” Her voice is sharp with accusation. 

“Leave her alone, Agatha!” Shouts Teen, pulling her back by the arm with surprising strength.

“I didn’t think it was real!” Alice explodes, tears pooling in her eyes as she throws her hands out in a plea for understanding. 

“I thought it was me! That it's my fault that I can’t keep a job…that everything I touch turns to shit!” A small sob escapes her, thick with shame. “That I couldn’t save her…”

With trembling hands, she tugs her shirt to the side to show us scars that mimic Jen and Lilia’s burn- Hers deep and mottled like they never healed quite right. “I convinced myself they were birthmarks...Even though she had the same ones.”

I note Agatha keeps a hand against Teen’s stomach, guarding him from the current conflict. 

“Wait, are we talking about a generational curse?” Jen questions with a hand out, trying to grasp the situation. 

“Oh you poor thing.” Lilia sighs with empathy, I mentally echo her thoughts.

“Poor us!” Jen corrects. “Now we have her family’s old ass curse!” Rio snorts at that, flipping a page.

“I’m sorry.” Alice whispers brokenly.

Before anyone can respond, Teen yelps when an invisible force slams into him. 

Agatha surges forward, but it doesn’t matter- before she can reach him, Teen is flung like a ragdoll through the glass window of the recording studio. 

The crash can be heard through the room, shards of glass tinkling to the floor. My grip on Agatha loosens- A move I didn’t register making, and she bolts to his side, Alice close on her heels. Groans of pain mingle with the crunch of glass as they swarm him. 

I glide toward the shattered window, staring idly as Alice crouches beside him, brushing off shards and muttering words of comfort. Another victim of the curse helped by the ever-dutiful protection witch. 

“Hey,” Teen croaks, voice weak but laced with humor. “I got attacked by the curse…Does that mean I’m part of the coven? Blessings and burdens alike?” 

His pitiful attempt at levity pulls a faint smirk from me. 

“Not a lot of blessings with this group.” Lilia quips, stepping through the door with a dry smile.

I nod, lips twitching in agreement when a voice cuts through the moment. 

“Is he okay?” 

We all spin to face Jen who has refused to leave her warding circle.

Agatha drifts past me and back into the main room, scoffing with a toss of her hands. “So what? You live in that circle now?”

“Maybe.”

Rio stands, stalking toward her with a predatory gait, as Alice and Teen shuffle their way back toward us. 

“So what’s the plan, Agatha?” Rio questions, leaning toward the witch, voice laced with impatience. 

She pointedly avoids her gaze, turning instead to Alice who in turn stares at the piano like it might snap at her. 

“You’re right. That’s the solution.” She snaps abruptly, jabbing a finger toward the instruments. 

“No, it's not.” Alice bristles at the suggestion. 

“We have to play Lorna’s Ballad.” Agatha says with renewed confidence. 

“I’m not playing that song!” Alice shoots back, crossing her arms defensively. 

“All signs point to a jam session.” Agatha mutters, exasperation apparent as she pops a hip and spreads her hands before her.

“What good will it do? The Ballad opens The Road. We did that. We’re here.” She continues to deny the glaring truth. 

“Lorna’s version is different, though.” Teen steps in.

“What did Lorna want from The Road?” Agatha questions no one in particular. “What was her intention?”

Rio speaks up from where she is perched lazily at the drum set, “To save her daughter.”

“You should have burnt to a crisp years ago but here you are. Sullen and aimless, but alive. That’s because at any given moment somewhere, someone is playing that song that you hate so much…Lorna’s Ballad is a protection spell…It protects you.” Agatha’s words hang heavily in the air.

I can see the realization wash over Alice- fear, disbelief, guilt. They all flash in rapid succession that I imagine is dizzying for the poor witch. 

“And maybe now it can protect us.” Lilia finishes as she comes to the same conclusion. 

The hair-raising screech echoing through the room cuts off conversation with a brutal reminder. Time is running out. 

“Okay,” Agatha snaps with urgency, “Who’s good with piano? Lilia?” 

“No. No, I studied the zils. And a little pan flute.”

“Okay, Jen?”

“Ballet.”

“Oh, come on guys!” Agatha hurls with irritation, chest beginning to rise and fall with labored breaths that only draw my gaze to the deep cut of her top. 

“I play guitar. Sort of.” Teen offers timidly. 

“Okay, great.” The witch brushes a strand of hair from her face, taking a deep inhale to steady herself. “Jen, you’re on bass.”

“I’m still in the circle…”

“Jen!”

“Well, what do you know? Zils.” Lilia murmurs as she picks up the tiny instruments with a bemused grin. 

Ignoring her, Agatha spins to take the mic. The static feedback squeals through the room causing everyone to flinch. I step up to the available mic beside her. Her eyes narrow my way, speculative, before turning to Alice with a sly smile.

“Ooh! Alice, play it right and play it well. Maybe we won’t die.” She drawls, equal parts encouragement and challenge. 

The opening notes ripple through the room as Alice begins to play the piano, for a fleeting moment it feels like hope. Then the familiar sound of sizzling snaps everyone’s focus back. 

To my horror, the curse attacks Agatha this time. Smoke rises from her clothes and she hunches over with a gasp of pain. 

Instinctively, my shadows surge forward, curling possessively around her and wrenching the curse off before it can do anymore damage. Rio’s satisfaction and a thread of warning trickles through my chest at my interference. Agatha stumbles, catching her breath as the black tendrils retreat. 

“You could do that the whole time?” Teen gasps, voice a mixture of disbelief and outrage.  

I glance at him briefly, but don’t dignify his question with a response. My focus stays on Agatha as I scan her up and down for serious injury, avoiding the confusion in her expression. 

Satisfied she is unharmed, I clear my throat before speaking, tone leaving no room for argument. “Keep playing.” 

The coven is still for a heartbeat, everyone processing what just occurred with varying expressions of bewilderment and chagrin. Alice places her trembling fingers back on the keys and the melody resumes, each note only winding tension tighter.

I have learned the lesson

Of all that’s foul and fair

Our love was forged in Fire

Water, Earth, and Air

The spell is cast

How long it lasts

I cannot divine

The Road is there

And so I dare

To risk this heart of mine

Down, down, down The Road

Down the Witches’ Road

My gaze locks onto Agatha’s profile as she sings, her voice raw and commanding. The way the light catches her jaw, the intensity in her gaze- it’s magnetic. 

Heat rises in my chest, spreading to my limbs with a slow burn and melding with Rio’s own. Beneath that, a whisper of caution. My balance is meant to steady Rio’s chaos, not mirror her yearning- Yet, I feel it. 

It’s maddening, this push and pull. The same longing she feels tethered to the woman who has undone us both in different ways. 

The little witch is distracting enough that I almost miss my cue to join in. 

Down, down, down The Road

Down the Witches’ Road

Down, down, down The Road

Down the Witches’ Road

Follow me, my friend

To glory at the end

Flames burst to life around the room, licking at the walls like serpents tasting the air. They grow hungrily, casting shadows that twist and dance. 

“Oh, great! Fire!” Lilia exclaims.

“It’s angry.” Rio warns, continuing her sing-song tone, silhouette haloed by the fiery glow. 

“Stop phoning it in! Play like a witch!” Agatha commands, voice escaping her in a growl. 

I have known the power

Of midnights in the wood

I’ve danced inside the circle

Of all that’s bad and good

The danger’s great

The trials wait

Tame your fears

A door appears

To love that never dies

As we go 

Down, down, down The Road

Down the Witches’ Road

Down, down, down The Road

Down the Witches’ Road

Down, down, down The Road

Down the Witches’ Road

Blood and tears and bone

Together and alone

The room pulses with life while scattered embers glow like stars against the night sky. Our voices rise and fall, melding together in a seamless dance as we weave magic with our song. 

Alice’s voice breaks through, raw and thick with emotion. Tears trace silver paths down her flushed cheeks, and the magic around us coils tighter with each note.

If I can’t reach you

Let my song teach you

All you need to keep our love alive

If I can’t hold you

Remember what I told you

It’s the only way we survive

We survive

As we go

The curse itself manifests in a grotesque demonic form, perched above us. Its body is a patchwork of flesh and blood that glistens against the dim light. It seems to parody the shape of a woman, with long stringy hair and a mouthful of unnervingly flat teeth. 

The mockery is undone by the wings of thin tissue stretched taut over jagged bone that jut out at unnatural angles. The smell of iron and rot saturate the place. 

Down, down, down The Road

Down the Witches’ Road

“The curse. I see it. I can see it” Alice chokes before her voice takes on a raging determination. “...I can kill it.” 

Down, down, down The Road

Down the Witches’ Road

Down, down, down The Road

Down the Witches’ Road

Wherever it may bend

I’ll see you at the end

The curse moves with unsettling precision, settling itself upon the witch’s shoulders as if it belongs there. It talons curl into her skin, aligning with her brutal scars- they intertwine in a tapestry of her past and present torment.

I’ll see you at the end

I’ll see you at the end

I’ll see you at the end

I’ll see you at the end

A cloud of fire erupts above Alice as her final note pierces the air, arms flung wide. The curse- a surging flame in a violent bloom, twists inward, then collapses into a swirling void. 

As if it never existed.

“It’s gone.” Agatha breathes, hand clenching the mic in a white-knuckled grip as her eyes scan the room warily.  

The faint creak of wood draws their attention to the piano, currently groaning open to reveal a narrow, dark passage within. 

“The exit!” Alice gasps, relief breaking through her exhaustion. 

“We did it. Yay!” Teen mumbles, tone unsteady as he sways on his feet. A second later, his knees buckle, and he crumples to the ground.  

“Teen!” Agatha cries, panic cutting through her usually steely demeanor. “What happened?”

“What’s wrong with him?” Lilia’s voice rises in alarm, gaze darting to his torso where blood spreads across his side. 

“He’s bleeding!” 

“We’ve got to get him out of here.” Urges Alice where she clutches his arm. 

The group scrambles to lift him, their movements frantic and uncoordinated. Shuttling an unconscious body through the narrow opening of a piano proves to be more complicated than any of them expected. 

Rio, who stands at my side and watches the scene unfold, subdues the desire to laugh when they bang his head against the wood for a second time- Only because Agatha’s eyes have welled with tears of fright for the boy. 

“Watch his head!” Lilia yells, voice strained.

Finally, they manage to pull him through, laying him on an elevated slab of stone just outside the passage. His pale face is slack, and blood continues to seep between their fingers as they try to staunch the wound. 

“Okay, hold on. Hold on.” Jen says, voice trembling with the weight of the situation. 

“There’s so much blood.” Agatha whispers, voice cracking with emotion that she hasn’t displayed in a long time. 

“I got it.” Jen reassures, although her demeanor screams unsteady.

“What else can we do? What else can we do?” Agatha croaks, bloodied fingers cupping his face.

“He’s young. He’s strong..” Lilia begins. 

“Dont!” Agatha snarls, turning to look at Rio and I, voice falling to a weak plea, “Don’t.”

It feels like a bolder in my gut when her loaded gaze lands on us, and I’m sent back to those hazy memories of her begging Rio…Of my birth. 

“Jen!” Agatha barks out, attempting to jolt Jennifer into action. 

“Water and moonlight.” She finally stammers. 

Alice scrambles to the thin stream a few feet away, falling to her knees to collect water, and being mindful not to slosh it as she hands it off to the potions witch.

Jen cups it in both hands, turning to the thin stream of moonlight breaking through the tangled branches and begins to chant in Latin. 

“Three of Swords.” Lilia mumbles airily. 

She delicately pours the water against the wound, his body flinches away with a small hiss of pain. 

“You’re making it worse!” Agatha accuses fearfully. 

“Wait, wait.” 

There is a visible sigh of relief when the blood begins to wash away to reveal healed skin. Jen gasps in shock at her own work, using his jacket to wipe away the remaining blood. 

“Jennifer…” Lilia breathes. “Look what you did.”

Agatha’s tear stained cheeks reflect the light when she glances our way once more before they clamor together to move him somewhere more comfortable. With far less huffs and grunts than when they shimmied him through the piano, they find him a patch of soft foliage to rest him on. 

Agatha sits by his side, gaze not leaving his face. The other coven members stand in the tense silence briefly before stuttering that they are going to start a fire and promptly wander in the opposite direction.

I eye Rio in my peripheral, twirling the damned flower in her hands as she stares despondently at the witch. I urge her to walk away through our connection, ignoring the fact that I haven’t either, but not one to be told no she parts her lips to speak anyway. 

“Agatha-”

“Don’t. Not right now.” She lashes out abruptly.

Rio sighs and the hand holding the flower falls to her side limply, before she spins to follow the coven dejectedly. I stretch a bit of shadow to caress the witch’s back softly, she shudders at the contact, but doesn’t look my way. I don’t expect her to.

 I take a seat on the log beside Rio once I make my way over to the flickering flames casting elongated shadows of the coven’s figures. She plays with her knife idly as the witches chat, sparing me a fleeting glance at my arrival. 

“I never really identified as just a witch…I’m an eleventh-generation root worker and midwife.” Jen murmurs, face reflecting the orange glow. 

“A midwife…” Lilia gasps with genuine appreciation. 

“How were you bound?” Alice asks softly.

“I was invited to the brand-new Obstetrics Association of Greater Boston. To share my expertise…It was a trap. I still don’t know how he did it. Bound me without magic.” She sighs deeply to clear the haunting memories from her mind. “So much for ‘do no harm’.”

“When mom died,” Alice starts quietly. “I stopped believing everything she ever taught me. I was so angry. Part of me hoped that The Road wasn’t real, so I could stay angry. Because…” She exhales shakily, unable to finish her thought. 

“Now you know it was all for you. And that makes you sad.” Lilia hums. 

“You’re right.” Alice concedes tearfully after pausing to wipe her face.

“Sad is better than angry.” The divination witch sends her an empathetic smile. 

“Here. Put this on your pressure points.” 

Jen shifts to hand her a small tin effectively shifting the somber weight that had settled over the group. 

“Why?”

“Because it smells nice.” She responds simply.

“Thanks, Jen.” Alice says, tone a shade lighter than usual at the gesture. 

“You know the worst part of being a witch?” Lilia states, queuing up another rant. “All the misconceptions and rumor mongering. That we talk to goats. That we’ve all got an extra nipple.”

“You guys don’t have extra nipples? I’m covered in nipples.” Rio states and I can’t help but join in on the antics when Lilia’s lip curls in disgust. 

“There’s one shaped like a star on her back.” 

“You wanna see?” Rio asks, moving to lift her shirt with a grin. 

“No, thank you.” Lilia says, appalled, as the women break out into snickers. 

I can see it then, the tentative camaraderie between the witches. They could make a powerful coven if everything about this wasn’t so convoluted. 

“Check this out.” Says Lilia once their laughter dies down, pulling her collar low to expose the skin of her throat. 

“What is that?” Jennifer asks, leaning in to get a closer look. 

“Vampire bite. Right before I knocked out his other tooth.”

“Oh!” The witches both exclaim with impressed tones, and intrigue slithers through my chest. The emotions are not my own, but Rio’s. 

“You know, we really kind of hated each other in the beginning. But now…” Lilia dangles the words in the air.

“But now?” the potions witch prods. 

Lilia blinks away the fog veiling her eyes. “Huh?”

“Lilia, where do you go?” Jen asks with a disbelieving laugh that sends Alice into another fit at her side. 

They quiet down as Agatha shuffles her way toward us stiffly, a blanket of uncertainty rippling through the coven. Rio, who’s moved to the ground, now sits between my legs where I remain perched on the log behind her. Agatha gives us a heavy look before easing down beside us. 

“How is he?” Alice’s voice has lost all amusement. 

“Mouthy.” 

“That’s a good sign.” Lilia breathes.

“Agatha, why don’t you show us your battle scars?” Jen encourages after we fall into a loaded silence against the whispers of crackling flames.

Agatha’s brows twitch upward with surprise before she unrolls her sleeve to reveal her arm. She shares a look with Rio and they both chuckle- I vaguely remember it myself from my time as a flicker in the back of her mind. 

“Knitting needle to the elbow.” She remarks in a haughty voice. “You ever hear of the Daughters of Liberty?” 

“No.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Exactly.” She affirms with a smirk, her own laugh hesitant amongst the others.

“I’ve got a scar.” Rio finally blurts- I’d felt her teetering on the edge of saying it or remaining silent since Agatha first spoke. My shadows twirl around her legs, as if to shield her. 

“No, you don’t.” 

“Yes, I do. A long time ago, I loved someone. And I had to do something that I did not wanna do, even though it was my job.” Rio angles her face toward Agatha just slightly and the witch whips the other way as if she might burn her. 

“And it hurt them.” She continues softer. “She is my scar.”

Agatha continues to avoid her gaze, hand tucked to her chin in an attempt at a mask of nonchalance. I resist the gnawing temptation to speak up in Rio’s defense- To tell Agatha that she is the reason her very being was torn in two. 

“I’m gonna stretch my legs.” She finally spits after a weighted pause that no one seems willing to break, standing with a deep sigh and walking briskly down the trail. 

I’m already standing when Rio gets up, together we turn to follow her when Lilia reaches out to halt our progress. “Don’t think for a second I’ve forgotten what you said in the sound booth.”

A scoff escapes Rio as she jerks her hand back with a snarl, I can see the slight edge of rejection in her eyes most couldn't. Very few regarded Death warmly, after all.

I wrap an arm around her waist with a forceful tug, fingers tickling along the exposed skin of her side while she allows me to pull her down the road and away from the campfire bonding session. 

Agatha stands rigidly, arms crossed, and her back to us as we approach. I halt as Rio eases forward to tangle her fingers in Agatha’s long hair, the witch’s visible shiver and small moan in response to her touch draws me closer until I’m barely a step away. 

She rotates to meet Rio’s soft gaze, visibly melting into her as she caresses her head fondly and clutches her in an embrace. Agatha’s eyes meet mine over her shoulder, face inches from my own. Her irises cloud with a storm of emotion, fondness with a barbed edge.

I hesitate, still unsure where I stand, before gently pressing my forehead to hers in a small show of acceptance. Of affection. My shadows, with a mind of their own, coil around us in a cool hug. 

Agatha’s eyes flutter closed with a shuttering exhale, savoring the small bubble of safety in the battleground we have created.

Rio’s relief and raw yearning hits me like a wave, my knees feel weak in its presence. With me torn from her, all the softer parts of herself are closer to the surface- More vulnerable. 

Agatha pulls back from our hold, just far enough that her lips are a breath away from Rio’s as her eyes pool with heat. 

The dark force that formed me jabs into my mind like a hot poker, causing me to flinch against Rio’s back with the force of it.

You are here to guide. To protect. To collect.

The reminder yanks all the warmth from the bond, leaving it a chilled husk of a thing between us. I retreat backward, one step, then two- Inhaling and exhaling deeply through my nose. 

“Agatha…” Rio hesitates to say the words we know to be true, and I almost wish she didn’t when I see the mental walls slamming back down in Agatha's eyes. “That boy isn’t yours.”

The little witch’s shoulders curl inward, the tender parts of her burrowing back into their hiding spots. She nods jerkily as she works to paint her usual sarcastic smile. It doesn’t hold the desired effect- her lips tremble with the effort and it’s hollow of any emotion.

She shoulders past us with a weak scoff, gait weary, but chin held high.

[blvefilm]

Her Shadow

Word Count: 1010

Warnings: death? 

Summary: What if Lady Death’s very essence split in two when she went against her nature to give Nicky more time?

Part two Here!

1750

I am born of darkness, pulled violently into the light. 

My existence has always been an echo of Rio’s, her emotions my own. A whisper within her grief, her rage. My very substance is formed by her thoughts and memories. I am nothing but a silent flicker in her periphery. 

Then, torn from a void, I become.

I am ripped from the cocoon of perpetual night in the dark corner of her mind and into somewhere bright and sharp, exposed. Somewhere I am separate. A distinct figure standing behind her slouched form. Like a knotted string unraveling, I find myself...aware. Present. 

My form, real and substantial, is shrouded in shadows that reach toward Rio and caress her skin. They waver against the air like smoke and I extend an arm, then marvel at the movement as they swirl to cling to me once more. 

She shivers amongst the dirt at my ghostly touch, the shadows and I are driven by the need to remain near her. To protect and guide her. Her emotions still infiltrate my mind, my own bouncing back to hers until there is an infinite circuit tethering our thoughts. She knows what I am, and I know her. We remain silent as her sorrow and pain thumps like a heartbeat through us. I shift to her level, clumsy and without grace, to wrap myself and my darkness around her- willing it to cloak her in comfort as it does me. 

Unfamiliar sensations press on my senses and there is a bittersweet longing to collapse back into her soul teetering with the thrill of being. The force that tore me free pulses through me, a divine knowing of the intentions of my creation. 

I am Umbra, shadow-born, tethered and free.

And as I accept this existence, the threads between us hum in harmony. I may be separate, but I will never be far.

1753

It’s strange to look back at the beginning, when everything felt so raw. I’d grown in the years that followed my birth. We stumbled initially, but we have found our rhythm. 

As Rio’s confidence in me grew- so did I. 

I was able to stretch my limbs, alter my appearance, and even manipulate the darkness around me. I became more than her shadow; I became her confidante, her spy, a silent protector, and an ally in her darkest moments. 

Our connection deepened as we faced everything together. Even the morose visits where she hovers around the witch and our son like a noose around a delicate throat. The witch that convinced Rio to venture from her intended nature. The witch who, I suppose, I owe my existence to. For it was that decision that tore Rio in two. 

The more time she gives the boy, the more she diverts from her nature, the more my urge grows to discover my identity beyond Rio’s presence. A simmering curiosity that calls me to wander, leave her side and savor the quiet. The sensation of wind against my skin and dirt beneath my feet made me feel whole. 

In those moments I felt a life, not borrowed, but my own. 

1756

The forest looms around Rio and I, illuminated by the green torch light fisted in her hand. I remain silent, rarely having to speak my thoughts when I share fragments of her soul. We both knew we had allowed this too long. I was meant to be the one to guide her toward balance, born of her indecision. 

But over the years I grew fond of the brunette pair as well. 

I remain a cloak of darkness around her shoulders, rarely exposing myself as a separate being to others. Grief, rage, fondness, love, and heartbreak swirl between us in a torturous cycle as Nicky kisses his mother’s cheek before approaching us. Rio takes his hand with a bitter smile, and I stretch a limb from the darkness to run a hand comfortingly through his hair. 

He knows I am here, we have visited him many nights as he aged in the hope that it wouldn’t cause him fear when the time finally came. He never showed an ounce of it. Rio and I both speculate it’s due to his heritage. He is technically born of both of us. 

Walking him across the bridge and to the other side was my least favorite feeling so far.

1943

Our little witch has kept us busy over the years. I tire of the bubbling ache in my chest that thuds in time with Rio’s own, but here we stand. I remain at Rio’s back, clinging to her figure like a second skin as my darkness curls around her. 

The shriveled bodies of another coven stare back at us, mouths agape in silent accusation. Their souls, like many others, rise with pleading sobs and furious curses. It’s rare we find a soul ready to cross over, especially in Agatha’s path. 

“She’s escalating.” Rio murmurs when the silence of the forest greets us once more.

I emerge from her, a gust of smoke caught in the wind, and piece myself together in the form I’ve grown fond of. “She mourns.” 

She waves a clawed hand toward the corpses, they rot away to reveal bone and grit as the grass around them eats them up. Purple flowers and fungi sprout from the misshapen lumps in the otherwise smooth Earth in a macabre tribute to her love. 

"So do we," she whispers.

I don’t yet understand the bloodied chains that tether my Rio to Agatha, despite the quiet fondness that has sprouted within me. I imagine it must be something like our bond. Both parts of one soul that has been cleaved in two- each in an infinite dance with the other.

I sway toward her, wrapping my arms around her neck in a tender embrace. I imagine us both to be tall and sturdy like the thick trunks of the trees that surround us. I will that same knowing into our connection and press a featherlight kiss to her cheek.

[blvefilm]

-ˏˋ⋆ ᴡ ᴇ ʟ ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴇ ⋆ˊˎ-

Tags #blvefilm for all of my writing #blveshitpost for literally anything else that I post Ongoing Works

Agatha x Rio x Fem!oc part 1 / Her Shadow - here part 2 / If I can't Reach You - here part 3 / Let My Song Teach You - here

*you'll find a lot of fandom reblogs with an extra sprinkle of agatha all along*