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v3nusxsky · 2 days ago

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Little Agatha + CG Rio- Unwell.

Agatha wakes up feeling out of sorts with a familiar, recurring throat infection. Rio cares for her and helps her settle back down.

It is very late here right now but I just wanted to finish this and get it posted. I'm not sure how much I like this fic- I had trouble with it as I didn't really go into it with any sort of plot planned- it was just a way to vent about my own recurring illness by giving it to Agatha Harkness.

+ Reminder that my requests are still open, and I'd love it if anybody had any they'd like to send. :)

1.4k words.

Warnings- Agatha is unwell in this, there is no vomiting but there is general pain and discomfort and allusions to her sickness being chronic. Also references to Agatha's childhood but no explicit representation of any abuse.

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The gravelly aching started subtly in the early evening, an impending discomfort that let Agatha know the next few days would be miserable. She was used to this routine by now, recurring throat infections which, along with almost everything else wrong with her, scientists 200 years in the future would probably attribute to some deficit in the immune system caused by prolonged childhood neglect. If you asked Agatha however, it was just more evidence that the universe must hate her.

No matter how familiar her predicament was, and how many times she’d done exactly this and been proven wrong- Agatha decided that if she just ignored it, it would surely go away.

It did not go away, and despite having managed to get to sleep reasonably quickly, she woke at some nebulous time in the dark of the early hours, completely unable to breathe through her nose and with the agonising sensation of 1000 angry bullet ants digging gravel out of her throat with tiny bullet ant sized rakes. And with both the terrible pain and the fogginess in her head leaving her disoriented in her own home, Agatha woke up small.

And just as she had done the first time- half a century ago, waking up in a much different house but in all too similar agony, Agatha cried. She cried and cried, harder at how the sobs exacerbated the clawing rawness in her throat, and harder still at the realisation that after all these years, she was still all alone left to soothe and comfort herself through the sickness.

Except Agatha wasn’t alone, and was startled as the candles on the nightstand flickered to life, and gentle hands running through her hair and calming whispers filled her senses. Of course, Mami was here and would take care of her and wouldn’t leave her in the cold until she stopped crying.

“Agatha, my sweet, what’s wrong? Can you tell me what’s the matter?”

Agatha buried her face into Rio’s chest and shook her head vehemently, trying to speak would just make the pain ten times worse. She let out a low whine which devolved into dry desperate, dry coughs, sobs increasing in volume at the discomfort.

Rio winced, recognising the symptoms now, knowing the pain her baby was in.

“Oh, my little love, I know, I know. Shh. Why, your throat isn’t feeling very well, hmm?”

Agatha shook her head again and loosened her grip on Rio, relieved her Mami understood. However, the relief was short lived when Agatha put her thumb in her mouth, realising moments later that with the congestion in her nose, she couldn’t breathe. Agatha whined again, upset that her method of self-soothing was off the table when she really needed a little bit of comfort.

“Shh, calm now, Agatha, breathe slowly for me, love, big calm breaths.” Rio spoke hushed but firm. She fished her girl’s comfort blanket out of the sheets, rubbing the corner momentarily against Agatha’s cheek before she reacted, a shaky hand pulling the blanket over the bottom half of her face, calming herself with the texture of the wool against her lip.

Moving her hands around to ground Agatha with firm movements up and down her baby bunny’s back, Rio continued to shush Agatha, trying to calm her sobs. Eventually, Agatha’s breathing began to even out, though each inhale came laboured, the frown on Agatha’s forehead deepening with each occasional cough that wracked her body.

“That’s it, love, you are doing such good breathing for Mami. I know, I know that it hurts, my brave bunny, you are doing wonderfully.” Rio pressed a kiss to Agatha’s head which was now cradled against her chest.

Rio gently removed Agatha from her lap and stood up from the bed. Agatha sniffled and whimpered in disapproval. “Mami’s just going to get you some things to make you feel better, bunny. Would you like to come along?”

Agatha responded by grabbing onto Rio’s hand with one of hers- comfort blanket grasped tightly in the other, and following Rio out of the room.

First, Rio led them over to the basin, where with a wave of her hand and no need for a flame, the water warmed just slightly. With careful swipes, Rio worked to clean the tears and snot from Agatha’s face, applying little pressure so as not to irritate her skin. Agatha leaned into the cloth, the lukewarm water felt incredible against her flushed forehead.

At the shaky but satisfied hum Agatha let out, Rio found herself smiling slightly. Rio continued to shush and lightly praise Agatha’s bravery. Agatha’s sniffling cries hadn’t fully ceased, and likely wouldn’t so long as she felt so out of sorts.

Next, Rio set about mixing something up to help with her baby’s pain. A blend of a few teas and herbs that Rio knew would reduce the inflammation and help Agatha back to sleep certainly wouldn’t taste fantastic, but she hoped the almost excessive scoop of honey she stirred in would mask it enough for Agatha to drink, as well as adding to the medicinal value of the tea.

She contemplated pouring herself a cup, but seeing as she didn’t technically need to sleep, Rio decided she’d rather be alert and awake for when Agatha needed her.

Rio carefully poured the tea into the special cup she’d procured for Agatha to use when she felt small like this. It didn’t have a typical opening, instead the neck of the cup stretched inward and upward, with a small opening through which to pour the liquid in, and a spout further down to drink through- with two handles for her to hold it securely. It comforted Agatha to drink from a cup designed specifically to prevent spills, the lingering fear from her childhood punishments was ever present, no matter how often Rio assured her how safe she was now.

Finally, Rio picked up the stack of handkerchiefs they kept tucked away in a cupboard so she could better wipe away Agatha’s tears and sniffles through the rest of the night.

They walked back through to the bedroom, Rio holding everything precariously in one hand so Agatha could keep holding the other in hers. It was clear how exhausted Agatha was as she rubbed at her eyes with her blanket, and coughing yawns replaced her louder cries.

“Come, make yourself comfortable again, Agatha love.” Rio coaxed as she pulled back the blankets on the bed and motioned gently for Agatha to climb in, placing the retrieved items temporarily on the nightstand as she settled in beside her.

Once both were comfortable, tucked under three different sheets after Rio had noticed Agatha beginning to shiver, Rio picked the cup of tea up from the nightstand. Agatha had already shifted close to Rio, seeking her Mami’s body heat, and with her exhaustion seeping into her bones it was easy for Rio to prop her up against her chest. Rio felt Agatha’s fingers lightly curling and uncurling where they rested on top of Rio’s own holding the handles of the cup securely to allow Agatha to drink the tea.

Whilst she needed to stop a couple of times to endure a nasty fit of coughs (which Rio would comfort her through with comforting pats to her back and loving encouragements) Agatha drank the tea mostly- to Rio’s delight and relief- without complaint. By the time Rio was setting the empty cup down on the nightstand, and lightly dabbed away the last few tears and traces of tea from Agatha’s chin and around her mouth, Agatha’s eyes were finally beginning to slide shut once more.

Though occasional sniffles and coughing fits threatened to rouse Agatha from the sleepy calm she’d fallen into, Rio fought against them diligently, humming soothingly to Agatha her baby’s favourite of the lullabies that Rio had picked up somewhere and sometime throughout her tenure on earth. Eventually, Agatha’s uncomfortable shifting stopped, and she stilled where she was- settled tightly curled up against Rio’s front, the other witch laying on her side with her arms wrapped comfortingly around her.

With her blanket tucked securely between her cheek and Rio’s chest, Agatha thought, before drifting to sleep, that even though the sickness would likely get worse in the coming days before it got better, she could get through anything in the world as long as she had her Mami there to help her through it.

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v3nusxsky · 2 days ago

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The ghost of you

*Authors notes~ only fitting i rise from the dead like the one and only Larissa weems…*

Trigger warnings~ guide Larissa Weems x clairvoyant reader, depressed reader, grief, mentions of thornhill, obviously ghost weems, Normie reader who’s acc an outcast

Prompt~ Something something Spirit guide Larissa Weems x reader who’s outcast ability is seeing Spirits?

•••••••••••Banner to come•••••••

Grief is a powerful beast you knew you’d fight in your distant future, what you didn’t realise was how small that distance was. Life finally began to look up, Nevermore thriving under your wife’s diligent, consistent efforts. A simple Normie gifted a goddess like Larissa was simply a prayer answered. You remember working another tedious shift at the weathervane when she walked in. Her order? Hot chocolate. Beautiful cyan eyes sparkling under the harsh lights of the cafe. Not a hair out of place and the way her dress hugged her figure so effortlessly. You knew you were done for. Taking a name for the order gave you one piece of the puzzle. Larissa Weems. Principal of Nevermore. You’d grown up hearing about the “freaks at Nevermore” never quite understanding why everyone couldn’t just get along. Different is beautiful. Normies aren’t as lovely as they pretend to be, so maybe outcasts were not as scary as they seemed. Your thoughts were stamped on every time you voiced them, so you learnt to keep them to yourself. Until her. She echoed your thoughts as if it was meant to be. She understood like no other. And every day she visited the weathervane you learnt a little more of how amazing this woman truly is. Your heart was once as pure as hers. Marilyn may as well have injected you with an onyx hate inducing heart shattering liquid when she took her from you. Your wife. Gone.

Days passed as you lay curled up in bed, blankly staring at the wall with silent tears trailing down your cheeks. Your eyes stinging with a new red rim around them as you battled internally. The world keeps spinning and lives carry on. But not hers. Sleep never seemed to come knocking for you and in a way you’re glad. Would you see her die repeatedly? Would she not be there at all? You didn’t know and you didn’t care to find out. Your reason to live was gone leaving you forever stuck dancing with the ghost of her. Food was dropped by the door for you, remained untouched and then replaced for what seemed like forever. Your limbs practically cemented to the bed you both once shared. Her side remained empty just as your heart did too. Memories of her were all you had. Replaying them to feel the warmth of her smile. Her love. To feel like she’s home.

When exhaustion won the war between your body and mind you saw her. At first it was memories of your shared lives. After the funeral, Jericho seemed for forget the pain of losing her but you didn’t. The memories that appeared to you while you were sleeping felt more realistic than a dream. Unsteady and painful but it was the only time you felt closer to her. Nevermore ended its year earlier out of respect for your wife and you’ve never been happier to be alone. To not pretend that you’re not dying every second this hell continues. Nevermore was your home, her home, you knew pieces of her would remain here forever. Her legacy unable to be replaced or replicated by anyone. Days bled into night as the world moved on from her, the scent of her freshly washed hair wasn’t clinging to her pillow anymore, slowly pieces of herself that were left behind weren’t there anymore. Washing the bed sheets seemed to painful, the clothes she left in the hamper remained untouched and her hair brush remained where she left it, white strands still tangled in the bristle’s.

It happened slowly, dreams began to surface and you would assume it’s one of the world’s sick jokes. Exhaustion messing with you. A natural part of grief, you assume. You felt the touch of her hand as if she was holding it, the ghosting of her lips into your forehead and even the way she would whisper I love you every night before bed felt real. Too real. It was always her in the dreams but they started to get stronger. More realistic. Still you knew grief could mess with the strongest minds.

The first day of the new school year brought more challenges. New students, the walls buzzing with an atmosphere she would’ve been proud to have fostered and returning faces touched by the hand of her kindness. Wednesday Addams seemingly in her own version of hell as her popularity grew. Enid now apart of her pack would’ve made Larissa so proud, you wished you could tell her. The students who may have caused her many heart attacks and headaches were blossoming into beautiful beings. People Larissa would be proud of. And yet you felt stuck. Stuck in the shadow of losing your true love. Being a Normie in an outcast school was harder now since Marilyn happened. Yet leaving the four walls she called home was never an option, the fact you stayed on teaching emotional wellness to the outcasts who needed to harness their gifts was not lost on you. You’d like to think Larissa would be proud of you for keeping Nevermore safe now she was unable.

The dreams continued to strengthen, each one feeling more realistic than the last. You swear you felt her lips on your cheek kissing you goodbye. The feeling lingered even after you awoke causing you to keep touching your cheek. Perhaps you’d lost your mind? Or maybe the late nights were creating this insanity. But that would be too easy The first bit of contact she made with her words still sounds as clear as ever. “I know you stay up all night, telling yourself that you’re alright” her whisp voice dripping with heartache and her famous knowing glint in her eyes as if she knew the battle with your grief first hand. “Baby I’m right here. I’m just harder to see than most.” Her voice softened like it use to whenever she knew you needed comfort, normally followed by pulling you into her embrace. Still here? The most cryptic message she could’ve given you and yet she knew you’d figure it out. You always did. That’s one of the many things Larissa adores about you.

Larissa continued to show up night after night, desperately hoping that you would at least feel the smallest bit of comfort from your dreams. During the day she would watch over you as you taught. At night she would spend the time telling you everything she wished you could hear. How proud she was of you, how much her heart ached with love for you, her desire to be with you on earth instead of this world where you couldn’t hear or see her. She would tell you to make sure that Nevermore is protected and constantly remind you her death was not your fault. A mer choice she had to make to ensure yours and Nevermore’s safety.

Some days were better than others. And tonight the grief was crushing you. Air became hard to pull into your lungs, darkness surrounding you felt stifling as tears ran steadily down your face, dripping onto her pillow that was clutched in your arms. Missing Larissa didn’t seem to have a description. It wasn’t just one feeling or moment, it was constant waves of grief battering into your already fragile heart. “My sweet girl It feels like an eternity since I had you next to me I would do anything for the chance to tell you I love you” Larissa murmured into the dark room, she stood at the foot of the bed just watching as your heart broke even more. Death had her feeling useless and that was something she’d need to learn to live with. Until you joined her.

You’d grown use to seeing Larissa around your room, sometimes sat next to you other times standing but you’d never really heard her until recently. Even then the idea of responding or reaching out seemed crazy. Perhaps this was the moment your mind broke. If you allowed yourself the moment of fleeting joy of believing she was really here, you feared you wouldn’t come back from it. But if insanity was the only way you could see and hear her then so be it. You might be crazy but at least you have her. “Why’d you have to chase the light somewhere I can’t go?” Your voice cracked with so much emotion you almost couldn’t hear yourself ask the question, your eyes laser focused on where she stood. For a minute all you heard was the thumping of your own heart and the ticking of the clock in your room. Silence.

It was almost comical, the way she battered her eyelashes in shock. Could you have really heard her? Or was the universes timing clearly that cleaver? “I’m sorry darling. I really am. Your safety and Nevermore’s safety was worth more than me. I had to protect you my love” her murmured voice reached you in the darkness of the room triggering an explosion of angry tidal waves. “Worth more? Nothing. No one. Is worth more than you Larissa! You were my everything. My reason to breathe and get up in the morning. And now you’re gone. You left me here to walk alone instead of being together and I’m so angry with you for that! It’s not fair.” Fresh hot tears of anger now replaced the tears of sadness and grief. She left you. She died because she thought Nevermore and you were worth more than her life. Your eyes clouded with the anger crashing into you at full force. It was then she realised that you heard her. There was no way this was a coincidence. With the grace she always possessed she took her strides to round the bed and sit by your side. It was then that she really saw the grief wrapped around you.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I really am but you have to know I love you more than anything in this world and the next.” Her soothing voice slipped into the air and wrapped around you like a blanket. Comfort seeped into your body no matter how angry you were hearing her say those words melted you to the core. The way her hands came to cup your cheeks and brush the tear drops away with the pads of her thumbs, the way her eyes softened at the sight of you never failed to calm the pain a bit. “This isn’t real. You’re not here Rissa. I know i am imagining you and your touch. I’ve gone mad but for now just don’t let go. Let me keep this moment my love I’ve lost too much of wife this past year it hurts please don’t take this away too.” You soon felt one of her hands moving to your hair. This feeling of her slender digits ghosting through your hair like they use to. “I always knew you were special sweetheart. If this is what you can do with dreams my darling… if we harness this together then perhaps I can visit when your awake too” although you had no idea why what or how she was here you didn’t care tomorrow you could research until your heart is content but for now you just want to bask in your wife’s presence. A rare gift you never thought you’d be given again.

Word count~1901

Special mentions to for getting this fic to breathe ~ @littledollll @dingdongthetail @chaoticstateofaffairs @just-your-casual-nerd

#v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #larissa weems #larrisa weems #principal larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #principle weems #weems x reader #principal weems x reader #weems #spirit guide weems #wednesday season 2 #clairvoyant reader x weems #principal weems #weems x clairvoyant reader

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