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The Ballad of Agatha Harkness Chapter 10
Summary: Agatha and Rio finally meet to talk about what's between them
Warnings: none (I believe)
Words: 1.8k
A/N: Finally these two idiots have admitted they have feelings for each other, get ready to see their relationship more and more from now on
Find it here on AO3
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A Confrontation of Hearts
The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine as Rio stepped lightly into the clearing. Agatha’s cottage stood hunched in the shadows, a relic of the past hidden deep within the forest. The stone walls were covered in a thick blanket of ivy and moss, giving the place an air of secrecy. The cottage was small, almost swallowed by the wilderness around it, but there was a strange comfort in its solitude, as though it had become part of the forest itself.
Rio hesitated at the threshold, her hand hovering above the weathered wooden door. It felt strange to her to use an actual entrance—to do something as common, as human, as knocking. She could’ve slipped inside, moved in and out of Agatha’s home without being seen, but she wanted to give Agatha the chance to acknowledge her presence, to see that she was here willingly. For once, Rio was here to wait.
She could feel Agatha’s presence inside, like a pulse she’d grown attuned to over time. It had only been a few days since their kiss, but it felt longer—each moment stretched thin by the weight of everything left unsaid. The memory of Agatha’s lips lingered like a phantom sensation, pulling her here despite her better judgement.
Taking a breath, Rio pushed open the door.
The interior was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the fireplace. The air was thick with the smell of damp wood, dust, and something herbal—lavender, maybe, mixed with a sharper, medicinal tang. It was clear Agatha had been trying to make the place her own; the remnants of old, broken furniture had been pushed aside, replaced with practical, simple pieces she’d brought in. The thick grime still clung stubbornly to the walls, as though the cottage itself refused to let go of its past.
Agatha was standing by the hearth, her back to Rio. The firelight cast long, dancing shadows across the room, highlighting the strong line of her form. She was dressed in dark practical clothes—a simple linen shirt tucked into long breeches, her long hair falling loose around her shoulders. There was tension in her stance, like a tightly coiled spring.
“You’re back,” Agatha said without turning around. Her tone was sharp, laced with irritation, but there was an undercurrent of something softer—something almost like relief.
Rio stepped inside, letting the door close softly behind her. The room felt smaller with the two of them in it, the air thick with unspoken words. “I am,” she replied, her usual teasing lilt absent from her voice.
Agatha turned then, her eyes flashing with a mix of emotions—anger, frustration, and something else Rio couldn’t quite place. “You disappeared. Again,” Agatha said, her voice hard. “You kissed me and then vanished like it meant nothing!”
Rio’s lips curved into a small, almost apologetic smile, though there was a flicker of something deeper in her gaze. “I had business to attend to.”
Agatha crossed her arms, leaning back against the stone wall. “I don’t like to be kept waiting,” she retorted, the words laced with a double meaning. Her voice was low, a challenge, as if daring Rio to deny the impact of what had happened between them.
Rio raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Is that what this is about? You don’t like to be kept waiting?”
Agatha’s jaw tightened. “Don’t play games with me,” she snapped. Her eyes softened, but only for a moment before the hardened mask slipped back into place. “I thought—” She stopped herself, shaking her head. “I hoped it was different this time.”
“It was,” Rio said quietly. Her voice was softer now, devoid of any of its usual playfulness. “It is.”
For a moment, the only sound was the crackling of the fire, filling the silence with its gentle popping. Agatha pushed off the wall, stepping closer until there were only inches between them. The air felt charged, like the calm before the storm. “Then why did you leave?” she asked, her voice raw, almost vulnerable. “You show up, turn my life upside down, and then disappear whenever you feel like it. It’s infuriating.”
Rio swallowed hard, her expression faltering. “It was a game,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “At first it was. But it’s not anymore. And I told you: I left because I had a job to do.”
Agatha’s eyes searched Rio’s face, looking for any sign of deceit. “What do you mean?” she asked, her tone softer now, the edge of anger fading into something like uncertainty.
There was so much Rio couldn’t say, but she took a breath and forced herself to speak. “When I watched you in the clearing that night, I was... impressed. The kind of power you had—it was almost magnetic.” She paused, her lips curving into a hint of a smile. “And I thought I’d have a little fun; see if I could push your buttons.”
Rio took another deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on her. This was the part she had avoided���the truth she had danced around. She thought back to that fateful night—Agatha’s birth, the moment she first felt the pull towards this child whose spirit shone brighter than most. She had told herself it was just morbid curiosity, just another life to oversee. But it wasn’t that simple, and it hadn’t been for a long time, ever since she first whispered in Agatha’s ear.
“I’ve felt connected to you from the very beginning,” Rio said, her voice trembling slightly. “I was there, Agatha, the night you were born. I watched you grow, watched you fight against everything life threw at you, and guided you when you seemed lost. I was drawn to you in a way I’ve never been before, but I didn’t understand it.”
Agatha’s expression softened, curiosity edging out the last of her irritation. “You must be a pretty powerful witch yourself to stay hidden like that,” she said quietly. “To be able to project yourself, appear and disappear as you please.” Her lips quirked into a teasing smile. “And to have been watching me since I was born? Well, you must be really old,” she teased, her tone lightening. “Though I have to admit—you wear it well.”
Rio chuckled, the tension easing as she laced her fingers through Agatha’s. "Really old, huh? Yeah, you could say that; I’ve got a few centuries on me. But I’m glad you think so.”
Agatha opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She looked away, her eyes darting to the fire as if searching for answers in the flames. “I wasn’t expecting this,” she admitted. “WIth the way you were messing with me, I wasn’t expecting you to feel… anything at all.”
Rio’s face softened, her usual confidence slipping as she allowed herself to feel vulnerable. “Neither was I,” she confessed. “But I do. And it terrifies me.”
She stopped herself from saying why. She couldn’t bring herself to reveal just what made her so afraid. If she told Agatha that she was Death itself, that every attachment she had made had been fleeting, and that every promise to stay was a lie in the face of her duty, would Agatha even want her here? Could she handle knowing the truth of what Rio was?
The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the weight of all the unspoken words between them. Agatha took a slow, deep breath, her gaze flicking back to Rio’s. She stepped closer, her hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from Rio’s face. “Stop running,” she said simply. Her voice was low, a whisper that seemed to echo in the stillness of the room. “Stay.”
Rio’s breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. She had stared into the void beyond time, held dying stars in her hands, watched entire worlds crumble, but this—this was the hardest thing she’d ever faced. “I don’t want to leave,” she admitted. “But what if there’s something you don’t know about me, Agatha? Something that might change everything?”
Rio hesitated, the words catching in her throat. She was Death, the one who reaped souls, who existed outside the boundaries of time. Would Agatha still look at her the same way if she knew the truth? Would this connection become one-sided if she revealed who she was?
Agatha rolled her eyes in a gentle, loving way, reaching for Rio’s other hand. “There’s a lot I don’t know about you. I mean, all I know is your first name... and that you’re annoying, powerful, and old,” she finished with a smile. “But for some reason, I like you anyway.”
Rio chuckled, the laughter chasing away some of the weight from her chest. Then, swallowing hard, she nodded, as if to convince herself. “I promise I won’t leave,” she said, her voice raw with emotion. “But there are things I can’t explain yet. Things I need you to trust me with.”
Agatha’s gaze softened, the firelight dancing in her eyes. “I trust you,” she whispered.
For a moment, they stood there in silence, the flickering fire casting shadows over their faces, creating a sense of warmth and urgency. Agatha could feel her heart pounding as she gazed at Rio, whose usual self-assured smile had returned to her lips. She moved closer, her hands gently cupping Rio’s face as her gaze lingered on the woman’s lips, her breath catching. Rio met her gaze, an unspoken understanding passing between them. Then, slowly, they closed the distance, their lips meeting in a kiss that was soft at first—tentative, acknowledging the immensity of the moment.
Then Agatha’s hands found their way into Rio’s hair, pulling her closer with a sudden intensity, and Rio responded in kind, letting herself sink into the feeling. Between kisses, Rio’s playful confidence returned, and she nipped at Agatha’s bottom lip, drawing a surprised, delighted laugh from her. Rio smirked, brushing her fingers along Agatha’s jaw. “I didn’t think I’d miss you this much.”
They melted into each other again, this time faster, more urgent. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing hard, their foreheads pressed together. The room felt warmer, the air charged with something electric and undeniable.
Agatha’s smile was small but genuine. “Just don’t disappear again.”
Rio’s expression wavered, a shadow passing over her features as she thought about the promise she just made. She hadn’t lied—she would always come back. But she knew she’d have to disappear from time to time, to do her job, to be what she was. Would Agatha see it that way? Would she forgive her?
Pushing the doubt aside, Rio brushed a thumb gently across Agatha’s cheek. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said softly, sealing the words with another kiss, even as uncertainty coiled tightly in her chest.
Sub-Chapter (18+, NSFW) >
Next Chapter > out tomorrow
#agatha x rio fanfic#agathario#agatha all along#agatha harkness#rio vidal#agatha x rio#fanfic#fanfiction#agathario fanfic#agatha all along fanfic#agatha backstory#evanora harkness#agatha all along backstory#agathario fic#rio x agatha#rio vidal x agatha harkness#rio backstory#rio vidal backstory
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A long time ago, I loved someone.
#agatha all along#kathryn hahn#aubrey plaza#agatha harkness#rio vidal#agatha x rio#i swear we better get at least half an episode dedicated to their backstory
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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?”
#agatha all along#agatha harkness#agatha x rio#rio vidal#marvel mcu#mcu#mcu fandom#wanda maximoff#wlw#agatha spoilers#salem#rio x agatha#agathario#marvel#kathryn hahn#aubrey plaza#wlw writing#fanfic#fanficiton#witches#agatha: darkhold diaries#joe locke#wanda marvel#wandagatha#wlw shows#wlw love#young love#backstory#town of salem#salem witch trials
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It took me reading my 288482 agathario fanfic to realize we don’t actually understand what they were talking about in the sound booth (Like old times? Works and play?) because we didn’t get their backstory. Like yes we can assume and fill in the blanks but it just hit me now that we don’t actually know what their “work” dynamic and situation was like pre Nicky
#yeah yeah I’m a backstory truther whatever#agatha all along#agatha harkness#agathario#aubrey plaza#kathryn hahn#rio x agatha#agatha x rio#wlw#rio vidal#mcu
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rio defending agatha is so important to me
#GAH THEY MAKE ME CRAZY#there’s def some ulterior motivation there and more backstory but for now that’s all I can comprehend#i will make more intelligible posts later but I’m still losing my mind#agathario#agatha all along#agatha all along spoilers#agatha x rio#rio vidal#agatha harkness#mcu#echo rambles
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feels like every agathario shipper just got drafted and sent to the the fix-it fic front lines
#I need a fleshed out backstory to soothe the wounds left behind by this finale#agathario#agatha all along#rio vidal x agatha harkness#fanfic
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*putting my hands to the earth to hear the gathering rumble*
I know this sound
you hear that?
it’s the herald of the impending swarm
the night before the dawn
of fix-it fics
#I actually thought the finale was pretty good#but I agree agathario’s backstory coulda used more airtime#that’s the MCU baby#it giveth and it taketh away#agatha all along#agatha harkness#agathario#rio vidal#agatha all along spoilers#agatha all along fanfic
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me going to classes and work like my entire world didn't get turned upside down last night when kathryn hahn literally pulled aubrey plaza in for a lesbian kiss IN AN MCU SHOW
#i wasn't expecting their relationship to actually be explicitly canon#especially not in the FOURTH EPISODE#this is insane#literally life changing#AND a love confession? all within five minutes of each other?#i LOVE lesbians i LOVE agathario#but... what the hell are they throwing at us after they crammed an entire season of backstory into five minutes#i'm lowkey scared#agatha harkness#rio vidal#agatha all along#agatha all along spoilers#agathario#agatha x rio
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Absolutely going crazy about how Agatha All Along is about relationships with mothers (and honestly family, but I like it being mothers, can you tell I have mommy issues?).
With the Salem Seven, are the children of the ones that trialled and wanted to execute Agatha. Having grown resentful and vengeful of what Agatha did to their mothers, they have come after her, in her weakest she has been. Perhaps just like how their mothers and Evanora did to her daughter during her trial.
With Lorna Wu doing everything she can to protect Alice with this generational curse between women--daughters of her clan. Going on tours and tours to get her song-her spell to be heard because just as long as it is remembered, Alice will be protected. Which succeeded, and Alice died with her own terms in protecting her Coven.
With Agatha first and foremost being hated and seen as evil by her mother, and then being seen/rumored as this wicked witch (get it cause she's dressed up as the wicked witch of the east in ep 7 ha) who gave up her son for the book of the dammed, when in reality that can't be the case with all of the hints we've seen with her and Nicholas. And then seeing this boy-- this Teen who just broke into her house, broke her out of the Scarlet Witch spell, got to know him more and see him as a child to be protected once more, unlike perhaps do what she couldn't do with her own son. That she will to this kid who may have been the son of the woman who trapped her for 3 years, and basically "deceived" her all throughout the journey, but is nonetheless proud. Proud in seeing him take the opportunity to survive and grow up when he was supposed to die, as Billy Maximoff and even as William Kaplan
With Rio, who loves and is just as much of a mother to Nicholas, but is obligated to her job that she cannot abandon, making her do something that she doesn't want to someone she loves (both to Nicky and Agatha).
And to Billy, as a Maximoff and as a Kaplan. With Wanda, creating him and Tommy out of nothing but her powers and a desire for love and family, to her having to take everything she wants down and to her going through the multiverse to find her children only to find out that the twins of that universe already have a mother that is loving and isn't blindsided by the grief and the control of the darkhold that won't accept albit scared with what has she became . Too blinded by the grief and corruption, she didn't notice that her love presevered and saved the body this dying child. And with Rebecca Kaplan, despite basically grieving the death of her son because he can't see her boy in him anymore because of the amnesia (or literally with William dying and Billy taking over), she hasn't given up on this child. Having kept him safe in whichever way she can and in the process making Billy see her as her mother, giving the Kaplans more time with him rather than dying in William's bar mitzvah.
And lastly, with Lilia (I'll always love you), having the power and knowledge, she has basically been the mother of the coven. Always trying to save the people from the demise she has no control of seeing and failing to do, such as the curse of seeing divination just like in her first coven. She has accepted her fate of being a witch by having her final act saving her current coven, sacrificing herself, and loving to do so in the process. Such as a mother ready to sacrifice herself for those they love.
I have so much more yapping especially with Lilia and ep 7 (and Jen but we don't have her backstory yet so) but its honest to God 1:33 am in my place and i need to sleep 😴😴
#agatha all along#billy kaplan#billy maximoff#rio vidal#rio vidal is death#death marvel#agatha harkness#nicholas scratch#salem seven#wanda maximoff#evanora harkness#lady death#haven't dug deep lilia that far yet#and we dont have much jen backstory yet#going crazy about the undertones of this gay ass show#absolutely in love#lilia calderu#teen is billy maximoff#teen is billy kaplan#Rebecca kaplan
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Agatha All Along | Death's Hand In Mine | Rio Vidal
#agatha all along#agatha all along spoilers#rio vidal#she's got her knife she's got her flower she's got her crown#i need backstory desperately#owly gifs things
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I’d like to note that when Billy asks why Agatha is hanging around as a ghost, her answer isn’t that she wants to avoid Rio, her answer is that she can’t face Nicky.
I think that she’s forgiven Rio on some level, whether consciously or not. She came to the conclusion that sometimes Death is inevitable. “Sometimes boys just die.” What Agatha hasn’t done—can't yet bring herself to do—is forgive herself for failing to save him. No matter what she did, it wasn't enough. So even though she can forgive Rio for doing her job, Agatha can't forgive herself for failing hers.
#i'm fine this is fine#scottie speaks#agatha all along#agatha all along spoilers#rio vidal#agatha harkness#agathario#i need to leave the face of the earth#ohmygod#getting their backstory now would be so tragic
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The Ballad of Agatha Harkness Chapter 9
Summary: Rio tries to continue her work but is finding something has shifted within her.
Warnings: death, Rio being an emotional (almost) wreck
Words: 1.9k
A/N: Of course Agatha is all Rio can think about when she's just trying to do her job. This should be the final chapter before get to see them together for the rest of the story :)
Save it for later with AO3
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Death’s Dilemma
The fog rolled in thick, cloaking the world in a shroud of grey as Rio stepped lightly into the crumbling remains of an old infirmary. The building was more of a makeshift hospital, hastily constructed with wooden beams and patchy, smoke-stained canvas walls. Inside, the smell of damp earth mingled with the sharp, metallic tang of blood and the sour stench of illness. Low moans and the occasional wheezing cough echoed in the silence, a chorus of suffering that only the dying can produce.
Rio moved unseen among the rows of narrow, straw-filled cots, her presence a ripple in the air, colder than the November chill that seeped through the cracks in the walls. The room was dimly lit by flickering candles, their flames fighting a losing battle against the encroaching darkness. She trailed her fingers along the coarse fabric of a blanket, feeling the warmth of a feverish body beneath it. Her touch is imperceptible to the living, but to those on the brink, it is a gentle invitation, a beckoning toward the next world.
Tonight, she was not here to judge or to condemn. Her role was simply to guide, to be the hand that led them away from the agony of their final breaths. A young boy, no more than ten, stirred in his sleep, his face slick with sweat. His chest rose and fell with laborious effort, each breath a struggle. Rio paused beside him, her expression softening. There was no fear in his features, only a strange serenity, as though he’d already begun to see beyond the veil.
Her hand brushed against the weathered wood of the bed frame, then slid down to her side, where her weapon hung—a mix between a Jambiya and a Karambit, sleek, deadly, far from the scythe depicted in myths. Its blade was forged from a dark, almost obsidian-like metal. The design felt ancient—a weapon not crafted by mortal hands but by something far older. The hilt looked like a knarled tree branch, curving gracefully, nestling perfectly in Rio’s palm as if it were made for her grip alone, every line and contour a seamless match to her delicate fingers. It looked like it could cut through reality itself, the edge so fine it seemed to blur against the air.
It wasn’t just a tool for her duty; it was part of her, an extension of the shadows she commanded. The blade pulsed faintly with a cold, unsettling energy, a constant reminder of its purpose. It was a weapon designed for intimate strikes, for the silent, final moments when life and death brushed fingers. And tonight, its presence felt heavier than usual, as if it sensed her inner turmoil.
Rio twirled it absently, the tip glinting as it caught the light, reflecting a fractured glimpse of her own face—beautiful yet haunted. It was almost ironic how the dagger, cold and unfeeling, seemed to know her better than she knew herself.
Across the room, another patient lay—a frail, elderly woman with thinning grey hair and a face carved with deep lines from a long life. Her breathing rattled like dry leaves in the wind, the familiar, final note of a life’s melody. Rio knew without looking that her time was up. Usually, she would have ended it then, a slice of the blade releasing the soul from its mortal coil. But tonight, she hesitated.
The woman’s lips parted, and though her eyes remained closed, her expression was one of peace, laced with a wistful sadness. "Please... just a little longer,” the woman croaked, her voice barely more than a breath.
Rio felt a twist in her chest, a sensation she struggled to name. Sympathy. It was foreign to her, an emotion she had no business feeling. She had witnessed countless pleas like this and heard the desperate bargaining for just a few more moments. She knew time was not hers to give; it upset the natural order of things. And yet she found herself stepping back, the dagger held loosely at her side, the edge no longer threatening.
The woman’s breathing steadied, if only slightly. Her fingers twitched, as though reaching for something invisible, something only she could see. Rio stood there motionless, granting her those extra moments despite every instinct honed over millennia telling her to finish the task. It felt monumental—this small mercy she had never given before.
Finally, when the time came, Rio lifted the dagger with reverent grace. The blade cut through the air, leaving a faint, shimmering trail, as though it were slicing through the very fabric of reality. She stroked the woman’s cheek with the back of her hand, a gesture softer than a whisper. The omwan’s soul slipped free with a sight, looking around with quiet confusion. Rio offered her a gentle smile, kind and understanding, as she guided the soul onward. It was a simple act, but tonight it felt different. Heavier, somehow.
“You’re different,” a small voice said.
Rio turned her head sharply; the boy’s spirit hovered beside his motionless body. The boy’s eyes seemed to see right through the mask Rio wore. His voice is gentle, his gaze knowing.
Rio forces a smile, dismissing the notion with a flick of her hand. “Nonsense,” she replies smoothly. “I am as I have always been.”
The boy just smiled—a small, enigmatic smile that makes Rio feel exposed in a way she hadn’t in centuries. Rio watched the boy’s spirit fade, but his words lingered, a needle pricking her long-held detachment. She had always been gentler with souls, she realised. In life, humans were so full of hatred and bitterness, weighed down by the scars they inflicted on one another. But in death, they were stripped bare, small and vulnerable like children. The souls she ferried seemed so different from the people they had once been; it was as if death was a balm that smoothed away the jagged edges of their lives.
The room was quiet again, filled only with the faint rustle of the wind against the old walls. Rio clenched her fist, trying to dispel the restless feeling gnawing at her. Thoughts of Agatha crept in, unwanted but persistent. It had only been a few days since their kiss, but the memory clung to her, an echo she couldn’t silence.
With a frustrated huff, she stepped away from the beds, her form dissolving into shadow as she moved towards the door. The fog outside was thick, swirling like smoke, and as she slipped into the night, she felt the tug of the river calling to her—a place where the veil between life and death thinned.
Rio stepped through the veil, emerging at a riverbank shrouded in mist as dawn began to creep over the horizon. Pale light shimmered on the surface of the water, casting an ethereal glow across the landscape. It was a place she often retreated to, a sanctuary where the rushing water drowned out the noise of her thoughts. The last remnants of moonlight danced on the surface, casting shimmering ripples that mirrored the turmoil within her. She lowered herself onto a large rock, her fingers tracing patterns in the dirt as she stared into the water. For once, there is no smirk on her lips, no playful glint in her eyes. Here in the solitude of this place, the weight of her thoughts pressed down on her like the river’s current, constant and inescapable.
The river had always been a place of clarity for her, a palace where she could feel the boundary between worlds. But tonight, it offered no answers. Only more questions. She dipped her fingers into the water, watching the ripples spread. “What is this feeling?” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the sound of the current
She scooped up some water in her palm, staring into her own flickering reflection. It shifted between her beautiful, serene visage and the hollow-eyed, skeletal form of Lady Death. “You’re losing yourself,” she hispered to herself, half in fear and half in wonder. It wasn’t a complete loss of self but a change—an unsettling new understanding of the emotions she had spent eons observing but never experiencing.
Rio tried to laugh, but it came out empty. For the first time, she felt the urge to connect rather than merely pass through. Agatha... Agatha had done this to her, brought these feelings bubbling to the surface. It wasn’t just curiosity or a passing infatuation. It was a pull she couldn’t resist, a connection she didn’t fully understand but is desperate to explore. It was terrifying in its unfamiliarity.
The connection she feels to Agatha is undeniable, and that’s the part that scares her. It’s been there from the beginning, from the moment she was drawn inexplicably to the child’s birth. She had watched from the shadows, then whispered her guidance unseen, and then finally revealed herself.
Rio had always assumed that her connection to Agatha was a fleeting thing, a curiosity born of watching a life unfold from its fragile beginning. She remembered the first time she saw Agatha’s spirit flicker into existence—how she had hovered unseen in the shadowed corner of the room. At first, it was just another life she was bound to oversee, an interest that would wane as Agatha grew, lived, and eventually died. But something had shifted when she watched Agatha defy death—deep and imperceptible, like a fault line cracking beneath the surface. She had planned to leave once she knew Agatha was free, to return to the shadows where she belonged. It was supposed to be a game—light flirting at best, nothing more.
Instead, she found herself wanting to stay, wanting to see the woman Agatha had become and to be a part of her story. It was shocking—this yearning that made her feel exposed, as though Agatha could see the parts of her that she kept hidden even from herself. It wasn’t just about protecting Agatha anymore; it was something deeper, something that made Rio’s chest ache in a way she hadn’t ever felt.
Rio hadn’t meant for this connection to grow, hadn’t imagined it could transform into something that felt so undeniably real. She was Death, after all—detached, unfeeling, a constant presence who slipped in and out of lives without leaving a trace. But now, each encounter felt like a rope wrapped tightly around her, pulling her closer to Agatha. It’s ridiculous, impossible even. But the feeling was there.
“Damn it,” Rio mutters to herself, raking a hand through her hair. It falls back into place, as dark as the shadows that cling to her like a second skin. She stands abruptly, as if movement might shake loose the thoughts tangled in her mind. Her dagger materialises in her hand without a command, a familiar weight, comforting in its simplicity.
It’s a reminder of who she is. What she is. She isn’t meant to feel this way—conflicted, yearning. She has a job to do.
If she was to understand these feelings, she needed to see Agatha again. She took one last glance at the river, as if seeking its silent blessing. Then, with a deep breath, she stepped through the veil, disappearing into the night with a swirl of shadows. She wasn’t sure if she was running toward something or away from it. But either way, she couldn’t stop herself.
The riverbank was left empty and still, save for the whisper of wind that seemed to carry her name into the darkness.
Next Chapter >
(it's going to be an emotional confrontation and we all know what happens when these two get emotional...)
#agatha x rio fanfic#agathario#agatha all along#agatha harkness#rio vidal#agatha x rio#fanfic#fanfiction#agathario fanfic#agatha all along fanfic#agatha backstory#evanora harkness#agatha all along backstory#agathario fic#rio x agatha#rio vidal x agatha harkness#rio backstory#rio vidal backstory
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The way Agatha looked at Rio when they were on the brooms- I just. She thought Rio was beautiful.
#ugh this episode#also more Agatha backstory#also also Rio fully implying that no one can have Agatha but her#I’m making a post abt that tho#anyway#I’m gay#these witches are gay#agatha all along#agatha x rio#agathario#agatha harkness#rio vidal#rio x agatha#ugh this show has me in a continuous chokehold
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The Black Witch - Agathario’s daughter
Now that we have Agatha’s backstory we know she didn’t trade Nicky for the Darkhold. But she got it anyway, so what could have happened to her and what could be as much as powerfull, like a son, for Mephisto had acept the deal?
I already had this headcanon of how could be if Agathario had a daugther, I was reading more about the meaning of the names and I found out that Selene is a name of a powerful Marvel character, so I tried to fill some spaces with Agathario’s backstory. We still have a lot of gaps about the way they met and between Nicky’s death and Agatha getting the Darkhold.
This is me having fun with Marvel characthers and finding one who fits really well with the idea of an Agathario’s daughter.
AGATHA AND THE DARKHOLD
Agatha and Rio would see each other again every time Agatha had killed another coven. Agatha would always be waiting for her arrival, for her to collect the souls, almost like she wanted Rio to feel ashamed for this, to make her suffer and remember she did that with their son. Every meeting her hatred towards Rio, as her pain and suffering, would be more intense. So was the sex. It always started like a war, but the longing would be to much for them to handle, so they would get to the truce point, as they would say, like “Switzerland”, and then they would part ways again. And this would repeat, again and again. Until no more.
Agatha knew what was happening in day one. The feeling of magic through her, a magic that wasn’t hers or from any others witches she had killed in the past years. That feeling didn’t happened with Nicholas. That was a magic force growing on her, and it wasn’t like other women would describre their pregnancy, the dizy, headache, nauseas, nothing of it. Still, she knew what was happening, and if she could feel the magic, Rio, the original Green Witch, could too. At least, that was what she believed.
Would it all be hapenning again? What she could do to save a kid who one of their mothers is a entity, Death herself? Would this be a way of paying for killing her own coven, her mother? Mothering kids who were destined to die at birth and be collected by their other mother.
That’s when she decided to go after the Darkhold.
Agatha actually made a deal with Mephisto, but not because of her son, but because of a daughter. But she wasn’t ready for Mephisto’s request. He would give her the Darkhold, so she could hide from Rio and change their daughter’s fate, but in exchange Agatha would forget her existence, her babygirl. A void in her memory. She would get everything she wanted, the Darkhold and protect and hide her, but in his terms.
The girl would be safe, so she accepted. With one request, her name wouldn’t be changed. The deal was made.
What Mephisto didn’t tell her is that he couldn’t feel Agatha’s baby power. He felt the energy emanating from her but couldn’t describe exactly what it was, like the baby herself put up a barrier against him. He also had a hint on why the original green witch, lady Death, hadn’t shown up yet. Death wasn’t the baby’s destiny, and he doubted it would be so soon, with all that power he imagined was there and was being kept hidden from him. But Agatha didn’t know that, so he used it to his advantage. She didn’t need him, but he was glad she didn’t realize it.
All this made him really interested in Selene, she would be there, growing by his side, he could see how powerfull she could become, and control her, the offspring of a powerfull witch and a entity, and now, an agent of Mephisto.
SELENE
From Marvel comics “Selene’s mother was young when she bore her, but would be dead before Selene spoke her first words. The tribal elders ordered her mother’s people to sacrifice themselves to Selene until none remained”
She would have grown up under Mephisto’s influence, and that would be the story she grew up believing, she had two witches mothers, which explained her powers, and they were murdered trying to protect her against their coven, and that’s it, not knowing anything else about her past.
As for her powers, that’s a lot of similarities with Agatha and Rio’s. It’s almost like she has a mix of both.
Again, from the comics:
“Selene maintains her immortality with her power to absorb the essence or lifeforce of others, a process that also allows her to absorb memories and take control of her victims. By drawing on the power she has absorbed, Selene can also grant herself other superhuman abilities like enhanced strength or speed.”
“Selene is also a powerful telepath with considerable telekinetic abilities. Thanks to her extended lifespan, Selene has become one of the most skilled magic users in the world and was even considered a potential candidate to replace Doctor Strange as Sorcerer Supreme. She is capable of displaying various psionic feats with the minds of others including reading and communicating with thoughts over vast distances.”
Guess who has telepathic powers too and can get inside someone’s mind, even a mind under a powerful Scarlet Witch’s spell.
“If she drains only part of a victm’s life force, she achieves a measure of pyschic control over her victm’s mind. Selene can cause a human being to become a psychic vampire like herself, but be subordinate to Selene’s own will.”
That would explain how she could control and hide herself from Mephisto even when she was still a baby. When Mephisto tried to use his own power to sense hers, unintentionally, she absorbed and used his power against him, hiding and protecting herself. And hiding from her other mother, Lady Death. As a life created by Agatha and Rio, their life force would already been part of Selene’s too.
SORCERER POWERS
“Selene can summon demons and other entitties. Can manipulate magical artifcats and teleport over vast-distances.”
This gives off an Underworld vibe, fitting well for an Lady Death’s daughter and Agatha possessing the Darkhold too.
“Selene can shoot powerfull energy blasts"
“Can disguise herself and others”
“Can restrain others in mystical bonds” As Agatha did with Jen.
“Selene can turn herself into a shadow figure enabling her to blend in and also control darkness around her.”
“In her efforts to obtain power, Selene was responsible for the establishment of the hidden Amazonian city Nova Roma”
And how well this fits with someone who is the daughter of a power-addicted witch and the original Green Witch.
AESTHETIC
In the comics, looking at her style, there is a lot of similarities with Agathario’s.
“No one knows where Selene came from, who she is, what she is” So again, it fits well with the idea of Rio not knowing about her and Agatha not remebering her but spreading a “false” story about exchanging a child for the Darkhold, like she tried to deceive herself, to have some memory of her daughter, in a way she could get her back one day, even if she doesn’t even remember it.
Selene likes some purple too.
There’s a movie called “Underworld” where the protagonist’s style and story was inspired by Selene from the comics.
In the movie she grows up with a father figure and a blurred past in which he saved her when her family was murdered. Later she finds out he was actually the one who killed them.
SELENE AS AGATHARIO’S DAUGHTER
With Nicholas, we know he was created at a time when Agathario were in love and in good terms with each other. This only changed after his birth. So that’s Nicholas personality and soul, easy going, pure, full of love.
With Selene it was different, she would be made on a time were there was a lot of love between Agatha and Rio, but a rejected and denied love, with pain, sadness, and loneliness, as they attracted and repelled each other at the same time. A time when Agatha was absorbing the power of other witches through their deaths. These would be strong themes with her, the loneliness, sadness, feelings burning inside her that she cannot properly explain or understand, so she is always masking and channeling as rage and ambition, trying to fulfill something. And with so much power, she can be very destructive
She could got to much comfortable messing with the underwold, and got Rio’s attention. In Selene’s arrogance, she exposed to much of her powers, what Rio would notice and goes to Agatha, demanding answers about the possibility of them having another kid, a daugther. Daughter that Agatha doesn’t remember that exists.
I could see their meeting, Selene finding someone, after centuries, with the same amount, and even more power than her, and the confusion and feelings of familiarity through her magic.
She begins to doubt her past and the little bit of it that she knows, so goes lurking.
She goes to Mephisto, needing help and looking for answers.
To find out later he is the one to blame.
And suddenly all the hidden feelings of loneliness come back with full force, the family she thought had lost, is there, and don’t even knows her. She grew up thinking about the death of two women who had been alive all this time. But at least she still had this, some feeling for them, even though she didn’t know who they were. Only the idea of how her mothers would be like, the family and the feeling of belonging that was denied to her. And having to accept that her mothers didn’t even know, or remember, her existence.
Maybe I will write a fic about them but for know it’s just fun to imagine the possibilities of it and how they would interact, Rio meeting Selene, them fighting each other and Rio noticing the similarities, thinking that this would be impossibe, she would know. Then looking for Agatha, thinking she lied about them having a daughter all this time. And Agatha can’t even understand what she is talking about, denying it in a way Rio believes she doesn’t know either. The three of them meeting. Agatha still in disbelief, she would never forget her own daugther. And finally, the moment of realization.
Mephisto wouldn’t give up his control over her so easily, Doctor Strange could get involved, so it would no longer be about Rio and Agatha fighting against her but fighting for her.
#agatha all along#agatha harkness#rio vidal#agathario#agatha x rio#vidarkness#agathario fanfic#agathario fanfiction#There is so much potential for Agathario backstory#And the fact we didn’t got the answers about the Darkhold#If you never whatched Underworld give it a shot#you won’t regret it#lady death#agatha dysfunctional family all along#selene as agathario daughter#Black Witch
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Anyone have theories on where Rio is? I assumed she stayed behind to take care of Alice but why didn’t she follow the rest? Also there’s no way Lilia and Jen are out of the picture now. How are they all coming back together?
I liked the episode and the lore drop i just really want ANSWERS
#this is genuinely stressing me out💀#rio come back we miss u#agathario#agatha harkness#rio vidal#agatha all along#marvel#also i really wanted an agatha backstory😭
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They did Rio so dirty in the last episode. I was expectig to see my girl for like half the episode, instead we got maybe 5 minutes
#like where was she???#we didn't even see her take the people that agatha killed#like huh???#i was so so hoping for some agatha rio backstory#but really we barely got crumbs#lea's random thoughts#agatha all along#agatha all along spoilers#rio vidal#agathario
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