i will see you again

It had been a year since Agatha got her physical body back. Being a ghost was fun, tormenting Billy and his boyfriend and his parents, and any other unfortunate person who happened to cross her path. She couldn’t do anything really bad—push things over like a cat, clank things, and her personal favorite, make fart noises behind somebody when they couldn’t see her.

But Billy was able to resurrect her body—well, he had to rebuild it since Rio had lovingly decomposed her body. Luckily it came back in all of its beautiful glory, with the added bonus of a white streak, a remnant of her ghost body.

But it was nice to have a body again. She missed eating and drinking. And having sex.

She and Rio had reconciled around six months ago, actually talked like real people. Well, like a siphon witch and a cosmic entity. The talking became sex, then some more talking, sex… Agatha had gone two years without sex while she was a ghost, so she had to make up for lost time.

She wanted to feel everything she missed while having a spiritual body.

And Rio more than made it worth it. She pushed Agatha’s physical body as much as she could, as much as Agatha could take. Agatha would fall asleep, Rio would continue on until Agatha would awake with Rio’s tongue still on her.

Six months after they reconciled, while they lay together, Rio lovingly stroking Agatha's belly, Agatha looked up into Rio’s wide, brown eyes.

There was something she had been thinking about for awhile, something that surprised her. It was something she didn’t think she would ever consider, but watching Rio’s hand on her stomach was bringing it up again.

“I might want another baby,” Agatha murmured.

Rio’s hand froze on her stomach, her fingers curling against the soft flesh. “Pardon?”

Agatha sat up, looking into Rio’s eyes. Rio gazed at her with utter openness, a humanity Rio had developed for herself a couple hundred years ago.

“I loved being a mother. I’m not trying to replace Nicky, nobody ever could…” Agatha swallowed painfully. “But… seeing your child come out of you, hearing them cry for the first time, it’s amazing.”

Rio clutched Agatha’s hands. Despite being Death, her hands were warm, comforting. “My love, last time…”

“Last time…” Last time was a tragedy. Nicky barely lived his 6 years, constantly sick, while Agatha tried to keep him alive through death. He didn’t know this fact but he fed on death, as he was never meant to be alive. He lived on borrowed time.

She did everything she could to give him a normal life, but it wasn’t. They slept in the woods, foraging or stealing food from the witches Agatha killed. She had no issue with killing, but Nicky—that sweet boy—didn’t care for it. Perhaps Agatha would have been more like her son if she hadn’t had Evanora as a mother, but alas.

“Last time was shitty,” she said, understating the situation because an ache was building in her chest. “Nicky was so loved and…”

“I’m sorry,” Rio said softly.

Agatha grunted, waving Rio off. She couldn’t stand those doe eyes looking at her like that. With such love and regret.

“We’ve been over this, it’s…” She wanted to say ‘fine’ but it wasn’t, the death of a child never is. But she had forgiven Rio. “It happened.”

“But that’s my concern, it happened before, it could happen again. My magic and your magic made a sick child. His conception was a miracle—if you believe in such things—and it was welcome, but very, very rare,” Rio said, her voice soft, almost nervous.

Rio’s death magic and Agatha’s siphoning did make Nicky sick. And Agatha had an unpleasant pregnancy. She had remembered her mother giving her grief about her own pregnancy with Agatha, the fetus Agatha siphoning Evanora’s life-force and making her very ill. As a child Agatha felt guilt, as an adult, Agatha was quite proud of her unborn self.

With Nicky she felt pretty sick, her morning sickness very persistent. Nicky didn’t move much in her womb, occasionally kicking. The thought of seeing her son for the first time kept her going, until Rio expressed concern. Agatha had refused to believe it, completely ignoring Rio was Death and she would know. It wasn’t long before Agatha could only see Rio as Death, looking at her in fear the same way every other human saw her.

The outcome was not good, of course. She spent 6 short years with her beloved, sick son.

“It might not though,” Agatha said.

Rio blinked at her, slow and catlike. “What?”

“As a ghost I had a lot of free time. Turns out not needing to eat or sleep saves you a lot of time,” Agatha chuckled, but Rio continued staring at her in confusion. “Anyway, I had a lot of time to study, read. I had Billy acquire books for me. There are methods to block magic, runes.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Nicky was conceived through certain methods,” Agatha said slowly.

“I know how sex works, Agatha. I can do whatever I wish with my body.”

“I know, and I love that,” Agatha said with a wide grin. “But Death had never conceived a child with a human, specifically a siphon witch. Everything was working against Nicky.”

Rio nodded. “Right… So… What is your idea?”

“If we can block our magic during conception we may be able to conceive a…” She almost said a healthy child, one not destined for death. But it felt disrespectful to Nicky. Her heart and stomach ached. “Our second child.”

Rio’s hand was back on Agatha’s stomach, her long fingers pressing into it. She bit her lip.

“You know I would give anything to put another baby in you, my love, but… I don’t know if I could risk putting you through that again.”

“I’m a big girl,” Agatha said sardonically, despite the turmoil within her. Another death of a child would devastate her, may ruin her. But her need to be pregnant, to give birth, to raise a child was outweighing that fear.

Rio tilted her head, looking at Agatha sideways. She wasn’t convinced.

“The mechanics are murky,” Agatha continued. “It has never been attempted for the conception of a child, as this is not common. But you know I like testing things out, understanding how they work.”

If Agatha had been born in modern times she maybe have been an engineer, the way her mind was able to pick things apart and put them back together. She liked knowing how things are structured. And that included magic.

“It might kill me, it might tear a rift in the universe,” Agatha said with a shrug.

“You know I don’t like playing with the laws of the universe, Agatha,” Rio said lightly. “I did that once and it made things wavy. And you know I don’t care for those twins existing.”

That was putting it lightly—Rio hated Billy and Tommy. It was only because of Agatha and her soft spot for the boys that kept them alive.

“I know. And no, it’s nothing like that. It’s not dark magic, just complicated. Weird,” Agatha said, grinning wider. The prospect of testing this out was exciting. Even if they were unable to conceive a baby, at least she would’ve been able to try something new. She was craving new magic.

“And you don’t know what it will do?”

“No.”

“What will it do to the potential child? I don’t want to play scientist to a new life. I like torturing you, but I won’t to an innocent life.”

Agatha batted her eyes. “Why Rio, I’m not innocent?”

Rio placed a warm hand on Agatha’s cheek. “My love, I love you very much, but no, you’re not. But that’s why I love you; you’re the most unusual human I have ever met. And I’ve met a lot. You’re unapologetically not innocent.”

Agatha puffed out her chest proudly. “You flatter me, Rio. But to answer your question, no, I don’t believe it would hurt the child. But there is a possibility the child won’t have magic. They may be a normal human.”

“They may not have the extended life of a witch, or my immortality. But we don’t know Nicky’s abilities. He may have been a powerful warlock or witch, he may have joined me in my realm. But his soul was too weak for either.”

Nicky had shown signs of being a green witch—not because of an inclination to magic, but his deep love of nature. He felt at home in it, because it was his home, it was his safe place. Because Agatha was right there with him. And he died in nature, in the woods they called home, Agatha sleeping next to him.

Had his soul been stronger, Agatha believed he would’ve been a green witch. She liked to think that, it comforted her.

“If the kid doesn’t have magic or a longer life, I’m okay with that. I just want another baby.”

Agatha knew deep down that probably wasn’t true. Perhaps her need to reproduce was clouding her judgement, but she missed having a baby.

“I may have to take them in your lifetime, Agatha. If they live a normal human lifespan, it’s very possible.”

Agatha could easily lie and say, “yeah, sure, that’ll be fine!” But she knew there was more to it than that. She didn’t know how she would react in the moment. It would hurt, obviously. Doesn’t it always when you lose a child?

She wanted to pretend she wouldn’t curse Rio, let her grief propel her. Agatha was not the most rational person, she could admit that. She was smarter than most but her emotions were very primal. She became downright animalistic after Nicky died. She moved through the forest like a big cat, looking for prey, constantly on edge. Hair wild, dark circles under her eyes from not sleeping, face gaunt from not eating enough.

“We might not even make a kid. I’m pretty old,” Agatha said with a little flourish of her hand.

“Only 350 years old, just a young woman. You still menstruate,” Rio pointed out.

“Unfortunately,” Agatha grumbled. “I did not miss that when I was dead.”

“What did you miss?”

Rio leaned in close, her orb-like eyes staring right into Agatha’s. Agatha stared right back, subconsciously getting into a staring contest that Agatha was physically unable to win. But she was comforted by Rio’s slightly unnerving stare.

“You can probably guess what I missed, you goofball,” Agatha said, the tip of her nose now touching Rio’s. “We’ve celebrated my physical body many times now.”

“And I could do it over and over, until you’re begging me to stop,” Rio said.

“Impossible, I’ll never beg you to stop. And honestly, I would like to hear you beg to stop.”

Rio’s stamina was impressive, but Agatha would give anything to see Rio a shaking, sweaty mess. Alas, Rio was not human, despite her body appearing perfectly human, so Agatha either has to be the one to tap out—which was often unlikely too because Agatha was a stubborn asshole—or Rio would have to call it for Agatha.

“I could pretend,” Rio said. “I’m a decent actor.”

Agatha sat back, arching an eyebrow at her wife. “You know I’m a good actor, but I don’t like you pretending for me. I want you genuinely begging.”

Rio shrugged. “Sorry, I’ll always be a superhuman slash nonhuman cosmic entity.”

Agatha planted a slow, deep kiss onto Rio’s soft lips. She smiled against them. “I know, that’s why I love you. I can’t imagine being married to anyone else.”

“I wouldn’t exist without you.”

Agatha pressed her hand against Rio’s face, pushing her back. She stuck her tongue out, pretending to gag. “Yes you would.”

“Death has existed the moment single-celled organisms developed in a puddle billions of years ago. Rio started to exist when she met an 18-year-witch, who was largely misunderstood by her coven and her mother.”

Rio peeked an eye out from behind Agatha’s fingers. Her eye was too soft, it was making Agatha cringe. For the physical embodiment of death, Rio was very tender. Agatha adored her, but it still made Agatha uncomfortable.

“Yeah, yeah… can we have sex?”

Rio licked Agatha’s palm, making Agatha shiver.

“Of course, my love.”

Over the next few months, Agatha devoted herself to studying this supposed spell she wanted to try. It was very risky, might just result in her dying again—and this time was pretty sure she wouldn’t end up a ghost. It was highly experimental, but she was Agatha Harkness, she loved experimenting.

The spell would need to block both her and Rio’s magic to the potential embryo. It might involve runes, it might involve something else.

Agatha was highly intelligent, but even she was stumped. Rio pulled all of her knowledge as well, but it was still much more complicated than Agatha realized.

”Maybe it’s not possible, Agatha,” Rio said sadly. “Nicky… the time you had with him was special, but…”

Agatha shot Rio a look. Yes, logically she knew that her time with Nicky was very unusual and special. It was also still a sore spot, a very deep, deep wound, that she didn’t always like Rio bringing up. She had forgiven Rio but she being reminded of those six beautiful years with her son still ached. It always would.

”I refuse to believe the two of us can’t figure this out. You’re not just Death, you’re the Green Witch. With Death, comes Life and all that. We should be able to just pull from your green magic, and block the death magic.”

Rio pursed her lips, one of her eyes closing in thought. “Runes, of course. If we can block the right kind of magic at the right time, then yes, I guess it’s possible.”

”Your death sperm and my evil uterus,” Agatha said with a wide grin. “You can literally give yourself a dick, but you can’t change the stuff that comes out of it. If I could just… find a way to change it…”

Agatha put both of her hands on her head, scratching her scalp like she could force the ideas out of her brain. She had had about five cups of coffee and was now pacing back and forth.

”I’m not even sure how your come works, because… does it even exist when you don’t have a dick?”

Rio shrugged. “I don’t always understand my human body. I just tell it what I need, and it does it. I suppose the semen could be dormant, somewhere.”

Rio patted her stomach like that was where it was. She didn’t have a full-on uterus, but she did have everything else. And she simply turned her clitoris into a cock when Agatha needed it.

Agatha’s mind then turned to Rio’s yummy cock…

No, focus, Agatha.

”I just need your sperm to… Ugh, I’m talking in circles…” Agatha groaned. “Maybe I should just sit on your dick while I think.”

Rio grinned. “I could do that. So you can think, of course.”

”Of course.”

Two minutes later, Agatha now had Rio’s fully erect cock nicely nestled inside of her. Talking about Rio’s come and her dick had made Agatha wet, so Rio slipped into her easily.

It did not help Agatha concentrate, it just made her loopy and cozy and made her completely forget what they were discussing.

This happened a number of times, Agatha would overwork and get frustrated and whine at Rio until she ate Agatha out or stick her dick into Agatha's ass. Or if Agatha was tired she'd stick her fingers in Rio's cunt for awhile.

So she wasn't getting anywhere.

Until, one day, it clicked. It came to her in a random spellbook, one she had looked at multiple times.

"Rio, I might have it!"

Rio was making Agatha lunch as Agatha stepped into their little kitchen.

"Oh? I'm intrigued."

Agatha slammed her book down on the kitchen table.

"If I can get magic in you, like get a rune in you, I might be able to block your death magic. It could essentially make you almost human, just for a short period of time."

Rio tilted her head, her lips pursed. "I'm not sure I understand."

"I don't completely either but there's something I want to try…"

Rio narrowed her eyes. "Well, I can't die so it's probably worth it. You'll be okay?"

"Eh, who knows."

That was Agatha's approach to most things. Sometimes it worked for her, sometimes it didn't. She made shit up about the Witch's Road and it mostly worked, until Billy showed up and actually made it and killed three people. And Agatha had to make the decision to kill herself with Rio's kiss. But she became a ghost and she was brought back to life. So it did work out!

The night they decided to do it, Agatha made sure to eat a nice meal, drink enough water. Rio didn't need to eat but decided to join Agatha in eating the beef stew Agatha made. It was always cute to watch Rio eat because it was purely to bond with Agatha and to taste things. Rio always hummed when she ate things she enjoyed, which included rocks and poisonous mushrooms and moss. So Agatha didn't base what Rio thought tasted good on her wife's humming, because what Rio thought tasted good was very different from humans.

"I hope this works because I would love to put a baby in you, my love," Rio said before taking a comically large bite.

A warmth filled Agatha's belly, separate from the stew. Her lips curled at the corners. "It will work and you will put a baby in me. But it will get pretty intense…"

Rio tilted her head. Agatha had left out some of the details of what was going to happen. Rio was going to be in for shock and Agatha was excited. Wet, even, at the idea of torturing her wife. She crossed her legs.

"You might need a safeword, sweetheart," Agatha purred.

"I never need a safeword," Rio said.

It was true, Rio had no limitations but sometimes she would have to call Agatha's own safeword because despite Agatha being human, she'd often refuse to put a stop to it. Rio had to be the sensible one.

"You might this time."

"Okay, uh… Triceratops."

Rio and her obsession with dinosaurs. To be fair, she saw their evolution and death and it destroyed her. It was sweet.

"Fine."

Plates cleared, kitchen cleaned, Agatha and Rio moved to their bedroom. Agatha gathered the stone tablets she had acquired and started writing runes in chalk on them. Then, she placed them around the bed. The runes were meant to start the process of weakening Rio's death magic. They weren't going to be enough because Rio's magic was much more powerful than that, it was going to take much, much more.

"Feel anything?" Agatha asked.

Rio flexed her hands. "A little tingling."

"Hm, me too," Agatha whispered, pressing up against Rio, kissing her neck. "I'm already so wet."

"Aren't you always?" Rio teased.

It wasn't far off. Agatha shrugged, her tongue now on the rim of Rio's ear. "I'll be ready for that dick, my sweet girl."

"Now?" Rio asked, sounding too excited for Agatha's taste.

"No. You get a little too pathetic when you have a dick. Keep your cunt for now."

"Okay…" Rio said, sounding dejected.

Agatha kissed her on the cheek. "Wanna eat me out, get me ready?"

This perked Rio up. She grabbed Agatha's hips and pushed her back onto the bed. In less than a minute, Agatha's clothes were completely off, and Rio's face planted between her legs. Rio knew Agatha very, very well and knew where the siphon witch needed her tongue. Alternatively between Agatha's clit, inside her, and her asshole. It was driving Agatha absolutely insane, her orgasm peaking fast.

When she came, she pressed Rio's face hard into her cunt, making sure Rio kept her tongue inside of her as she rode out the waves.

"Keep going," she groaned. "I need more."

"Yes, my love."

It didn't take long for another orgasm to crest, Agatha oversensitive and greedy. She heard her body squelch against Rio's face, and Rio hum, lapping up Agatha's juices greedily. As her second orgasm hit, Rio tried to move back again. But Agatha didn't let her.

After the third orgasm, Agatha finally let Rio stop. They had a long night ahead of them.

Rio's face was smeared in come when she sat back up, looking very pleased with herself. She was licking her chops.

"Good?"

"Very, good boy," Agatha sighed. She almost wanted to sleep, but obviously she couldn't. She was hoping the magic she wanted to try might give her more energy.

"Can we…" Rio shifted her lips.

"Are you wet, sweetie?" Agath cooed. "Do you want to get that hard dick out?"

Rio's eyes lit up.

Agath grinned. "Not yet. Go get my strap."

Rio wordlessly got it. It was purple—of course—and nine inches. Rio's cock was eight inches, when she had it, so of course Agatha's cock was bigger.

"I'm going to enchant it so I can feel," Agatha said as she took it from Rio. And top of the other things she had planned.

Rio nodded, then helped Agatha put it on. Agatha looked down at her purple cock proudly. She wrapped her hand around it, whispered a spell—the one she normally said, but she quickly muttered one she had never tried before. It might not even work, but it was worth a try.

A moment later, she felt the tension in her cunt extend to her cock. She slowly jerked herself off, making herself shudder. She couldn't wait to use Rio like a cocksleeve.

Rio removed her own clothes and leaned back on the bed, legs spreading for Agatha. The sight of Rio’s swollen, wet cunt made Agatha’s mouth water. She stroked at her cock, hips thrusting slightly at the sensation.

“I am curious how this will make you pregnant, Agatha,” Rio said, her eyes dark, watching Agatha closely.

”I am too!” Agatha said, grinning. “This is largely an experiment. Do you trust me?”

”No, but go ahead,” Rio said, gleefully.

Agatha angled her body so her hips almost lined up with Rio’s, her cock teasing Rio’s entrance. She massaged Rio’s outer folds with the tip of her cock, making Rio suck in a breath through her manufactured lungs.

They didn’t do this that often, as Agatha either preferred Rio fucking her, or eating her out, but it was a welcome treat to fuck Rio too. Rio would let Agatha do whatever to her, as long as Agatha was receiving pleasure. And having her dick in a warm cunt was a heavenly feeling. Rio was especially warm, since her body temperature was much higher than a normal human’s.

As she sunk her cock into Rio she found she had to go slow, her orgasm already hovering right there, despite already having three. Rio made a soft groaning noise, which did not help.

She froze, half inside of Rio, waiting for the threat of orgasm to dissipate.

“Already close?” Rio asked, her eyes inches away from Agatha’s, their noses almost touching.

”Shut up,” Agatha snapped.

She drove her cock straight into Rio, making her wife gasp. Sheer stubbornness kept her from coming as she thrust in and out of Rio.

Until Rio released a downright pornographic moan, and Agatha came. Obviously she wasn’t producing come, but because of the spell, something did release into Rio. Something like a wave of energy, or magic, or something.

Rio shook as she felt it envelope her body. Agatha shook as she pumped more of the energy into Rio, hips sputtering with each orgasmic contraction.

Usually Agatha felt sleepy and docile after four or five orgasms, but this time she felt wired, a renewed energy pulsing through her. It felt like after she siphoned witches.

She forced Rio further down, Rio’s legs now in the air and hooked over Agatha’s shoulders. Rio wasn’t human so Agatha gave her no time to recover. Her greedy cock craved more of her wife’s pussy.

Now that she had come once with her cock, she was able to drive into Rio’s more forcefully than before. And Rio could handle it.

”Fuck, Agatha…” Rio gasped. Her ankles crossed behind Agatha’s head. “I don’t know what you did, but that feels amazing.”

Agatha wasn’t doing it for Rio, but it was nice to be complimented, and she did like knowing her cock was driving Rio wild.

”I might come…” Rio said, her eyes rolling back.

”You can try,” Agatha said in a dark voice.

Rio looked at Agatha suspiciously, her hair messily framing her head as it was pushed into the pillows.

Agatha didn’t respond. She just kept thrusting into Rio. Then, she reached up and swiped at Rio’s engorged clit with her thumb.

Rio shuddered, her stomach tensing. The image was so delicious, Agatha could feel another orgasm getting close.

“I’m gonna come,” Rio said, her eyes unfocused.

Agatha could feel the telltale sign of a nearing orgasm inside of Rio’s body, but she knew something Rio didn’t.

”Okay, go ahead,” Agatha said.

Rio started shaking, like she was about to orgasm, but then didn’t. The pulling up sensation inside of Rio stopped as quickly as it had started.

Rio swore, tears rimming her eyes.

”What the hell?” She nearly whimpered.

”Oh, did I forget to mention that the spell I tried out keeps you from orgasming until I say so? It’s part of the runes I set up,” Agatha giggled.

“What purpose does that serve?” Rio asked, her teeth baring.

”It’s blocking your death magic until it’s fully ready to not produce a Death Baby.”

”What does lack of orgasm have to do with that? I don’t even have a cock right now.”

”My own cock, this silicone one, is doing something.”

Agatha pulled out of Rio. The sight of Rio’s gaped, wet cunt was incredibly arousing. Agatha lightly stroked at her cock while she spoke.

”The wave of energy you felt when I came is doing just that, it’s basically making you Not Death for a little bit. My magic is cancelling out yours. I found a way to siphon you without killing me.”

Rio’s eyes were wide.

”Agatha, that’s incredibly risky.”

”I know,” Agatha said. Risky was Agatha’s middle name. Actually, it was Elizabeth, but still.

“But me not orgasming…”

”That’s just a fortunate side effect. Don’t worry, when it’s all ready, you can come. When you come inside me.”

“How will we know it’s ready?”

Agatha shrugged. “I guess that’ll be the trick,” she said with a wink.

Agatha was trying to read Rio’s expression now. Maybe it was shitty to spring this part of it on Rio, but Rio was fully aware this was all experimental. Plus, she knew Agatha well enough to know Agatha loved trying crazy things out.

”That’s so hot…” Rio finally said, her voice shaking. “Keep going.”

Agatha grinned, running her palm over the tip of her cock. She had made it extra-sensitive, and watching Rio’s clenching cunt made it even more so.

“Of course, ma lady,” Agatha said in a teasing tone.

She lined her cock back up with Rio, and pushed in hard, and pushed in to the hilt with ease. She could feel Rio clench hard around her, which felt amazing.

As she started to pull back out, Rio’s strong muscles dragged deliciously around Agatha’s cock. The euphoria she felt was almost overwhelming, prompting her to thrust back in after pulling out halfway.

Rio released a shaking moan.

“I’m going to come so hard into you, Agatha. I will explode…”

Agatha was about to explode again, especially after hearing that. She loved fucking Rio like this, but Rio fucking her was one of her favorites. And if she edged Rio long enough, Rio would undoubtedly be beyond ready to come into Agatha. It would probably be an obscene amount too.

There was a quick spark in Agatha’s lower back before she came again, catching her off guard. A second wave of magical come—it wasn’t exactly the same as come, it wasn’t even really physical, but Agatha chose to pretend it was come—shot into Rio.

Rio’s body went stiff.

“Fuck, I feel… Ow!” Rio bent one of her knees, flexing it. “My leg hurts.”

She sounded baffled, but Agatha wasn’t completely surprised.

“It’s my magic blocking yours,” Agatha explained. She pulled out and rubbed her cock on Rio’s clit. Rio groaned, tilting her hips up towards Agatha. “You’re probably feeling more like a real human.”

Rio looked conflicted between the pleasure of what Agatha was doing, and what Agatha just said. She pouted a little.

“I don’t think I like that,” Rio mumbled. “Humans are so silly with their little random aches and pains.”

Rio rubbed the inside of her knee, frowning. Agatha felt no sympathy for her because it was about time Rio understood what Agatha felt a lot of the time.

“You’ll live,” Agatha said, still grinding against Rio. “Maybe an orgasm would make you feel better.”

Rio stopped rubbing her knee and her eyes lit up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, if only I’d allow you to come,” Agatha mocked, reaching down to swipe at Rio’s clit with her thumb. Rio shuddered, her eyes fluttering.

“Yeah…” Rio sighed. “If only.”

Without any warning Agatha drove her cock back into Rio, pounding into her. Rio sounded like she was being choked, her throat making a gurgling noise. It was beyond arousing.

“Fuck, Rio, I love that sound. I can’t wait until you come in me,” Agatha growled, thrusting in and out, lost in another orgasm quickly approaching. “Your big, fat cock filling me up.”

Rio looked like she was on the verge of another orgasm, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes from being denied again. She would not last long when she was granted permission to have a cock and able to orgasm, but that was okay–as long as she finishes inside of Agatha.

Fuck, that was going to feel good when Rio did that, filling Agatha with her seed. That was a lovely discovery when Rio realized she could craft her human body any way wanted, including creating genetic material. It was definitely a surprise when Agatha got pregnant, as they were both very unsure if it were possible. A human witch and the personification of Death. Being attracted to women, Agatha never thought she’d be able to have a child, luckily the woman she was with could do whatever with her body.

With little warning, Agatha came again, sharply, catching her off guard. She gasped, her heart pounding.

Rio gasped too, her breathing sounding weird.

“Agatha, fuck, I think…” She panted, her hand on her chest, “I think I need a break.”

Rio never, ever, needed a break because she wasn’t human. She would only need a break when she knew Agatha needed a break, but was refusing to stop. Agatha was stupid like that, pushing her human body to its limits, often almost passing out from exertion.

But now, she looked tired, and sweaty, and really did look like she was having a hard time. Agatha knew she couldn’t die, she was just feeling discomfort she wasn’t used to. Again, Agatha felt no sympathy, because most humans felt this way.

“We’re almost done, my love,” Agatha cooed, slowing her thrusts. “One more and we can switch.”

Rio nodded, swallowing. “Yes, my love.”

Agatha pulled out of Rio, letting Rio stroke her cock. Rio’s heavy, tired eyes were so unusual to see, that Agatha felt the urge to take Rio’s picture. So she did. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand. She really only used social media to cyberbully people, so Rio’s picture would only be for her. For her spank bank when Rio was away reaping.

Rio’s hand was firm but just gentle enough on Agatha’s cock. Agatha thrust slightly into Rio’s palm, quickly building herself to her fourth orgasm. Actually, more quickly than she was expecting.

“Fuck, fuck, Rio…” She shuddered. “I’m gonna…”

Her hips started to stutter and with record speed she pulled back from Rio’s hand and thrust back into her cunt, immediately coming in her again.

Rio groaned, tilting her hips. Rio’s cunt was puffy, red, her clit so engorged with blood. Agatha was about to grant her the ability to come, but first… Agatha pulled out again, slid down Rio’s body, and took Rio’s clit between her lips. The arousal on Agatha’s tongue was delicious, Rio’s taste more pronounced from how turned on Rio was. She was drenched and Agatha could drown in it.

“Just a moment, sweetheart,” Agatha whispered into the apex of Rio’s legs. “I just needed a taste.”

Rio nodded, her neck muscles tight. “Fuck, I need to come,” Rio groaned, her hips pushing down against Agatha’s mouth.

Agatha kissed her clit, then either side of her labia.

“Switch,” she whispered.

“Huh?” Rio asked stupidly.

“I’m ready for that dick.”

Agatha lifted her hips to remove the strap, letting it fall off of her before moving it to the side.

Rio grinned, and closed her eyes to concentrate. Her eyebrows pinched up and a moment later, her clit elongated into an eight inch dick. Her cunt remained, though, as her testicles were basically internal.

Her cock was an angry red, just as engorged as her clit, and leaking precum. Agatha’s cunt clenched at the sight, her clit aching despite her previous orgasms.

“Poor little guy,” Agatha cooed, wrapping her hand around the head of Rio’s cock. “Does he want to come?”

Rio bit her lip, obviously fighting every urge to thrust in Agatha’s hand. She nodded. “Yes, very much so.”

Agatha could tease Rio more but she was eager to move onto the next step. She could tell Rio was flagging, the magic of Agatha’s cock wearing her out.

She said a spell under her breath, squeezing Rio’s cock, hard. It must’ve worked because Rio gasped and made Agatha let go.

“I’m gonna come,” Rio panted. “The next time you touch me you better be ready for me to come because… I will not be able to hold back.”

Another side effect of the spell because normally Rio had better stamina than that. She might have to play around with that more because she loved the idea of Rio being so pathetic for her, even more so than she usually is.

“I’m ready. I’m ready for you to put a baby in me,” Agatha said, her voice coming out velvety. “But first…”

Agatha circled her own clit, bringing herself back to the edge. She could have Rio do that, but she loved the annoyed expression on Rio’s face, not being about to touch Agatha the way she’d want. Not able to bring Agatha the pleasure she so desperately enjoyed.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to come all over that dick,” Agatha sighed, crooking three fingers into her swollen cunt. “I just need to get ready.”

She was beyond ready, but teasing Rio was a lot of fun.

Too much fun.

She had to stop, her orgasm almost sneaking up on her again. Watching Rio’s cock leak from watching Agatha was a beautiful sight, incredibly hot, but she didn’t want to come before Rio was inside of her. She wondered if she could come before Rio, massaging Rio’s dick with her walls clamping down. Rio would not be able to resist coming while feeling Agatha’s own orgasm.

She wanted to see, so she straddled Rio’s hips, her cock just teasing Agatha’s entrance. The moment Rio’s tip touching Agatha’s dripping cunt, Rio gasped, her eyes rolling back.

“I might come the moment I enter you,” Rio admitted.

“I’d prefer if you tried to hold back,” Agatha said sweetly. “Please?”

Rio’s fingers were digging into her thighs, her expression almost pained.

“I’ll try…”

Honestly, Agatha didn’t expect Rio to make it, but Rio was such an obedient puppy that maybe she could.

Agatha sunk right down on Rio, her cunt enveloping her wife completely. Rio made a strangled noise, but to her credit, she didn’t come. Her face did turn bright red, her body shaking.

Something else happened. As Rio nestled her cock into Agatha the flesh of her torso started disappearing, leaving the bottom of her rib cage exposed. Agatha could see Rio’s black heart beating rapidly inside of her. There wasn’t much else inside of her, though. A stomach, but no intestines. When Rio ate it was digested very quickly and she produced no waste. It was very efficient and Agatha was very jealous.

Agatha reached down and slipped her fingers into the space between two of Rio’s ribs, then wrapped them around the bone. She pulled slightly. Rio moaned.

Agatha would laugh if she wasn’t so far gone herself. She rose and fell very slightly, giving both of them a chance to hold back for a little bit longer. She wanted to enjoy Rio’s hard cock inside of her, the head massaging her inner walls, hitting her g-spot in just the right way. It really was a toss up who was going to come first.

She felt her orgasm hovering right at the base of her spine, her body starting to open up. Rio was tense, obviously trying to not thrust, letting Agatha take the lead.

But Agatha had been taking the lead the whole time, she was ready to switch.

“Flip me,” Agatha said, sitting up enough that just the tip was inside of her.

Rio nodded, grabbed Agatha’s hips, and flipped them both over. Agatha kept her grip on Rio’s rib as they shifted position. Agatha opened her legs wide, giving Rio more room. Agatha strummed at her clit, trying to bring herself as close to an orgasm as she could.

“Go on,” she said to Rio. “Fuck me.”

Rio nodded again, her eyes darkening. She thrust hard into Agatha, but then paused as her bravado disappeared. Agatha could feel her cock twitch inside of her.

Again, Agatha would tease her, but her own orgasm was so close. One of them was about to orgasm and she did not know who.

She brought her other hand up and gripped the other side of Rio’s ribs. Rio’s heart was stuttering inside of her chest, the beat irregular. Agatha curled her left hand, slipping her long fingers in deeper, the tips grazing Rio’s heart.

As she touched the throbbing muscle, Rio squirmed. Agatha did it again, wriggling her fingers in deeper. Rio’s heart thumped against Agatha’s middle finger and Agatha dug her nail into it.

Rio swore and gripped the base of her cock.

“Oh, you like that?” Agatha purred. “Did that go straight to your cock, sweet girl?”

Rio’s teeth sunk down into her bottom lip.

“Yes, it’s right there…” she sighed.

Agatha did it again, trying to get her fingers in as deep as she could. Rio’s heart stopped for a second before thrumming aggressively. Rio’s cock throbbed inside of Agatha in time with her heart. If Agatha could reach her hand in and squeeze Rio’s heart and see if she could make Rio come just from that.

Agatha stroked Rio’s heart like she would her clit, in tight circles, while her other hand gripped and tugged at one of the ribs.

“I need to come so bad,” Rio whined. “I wanna come in you so bad. Please, Agatha.”

Rio’s cock was nearly swelling inside of Agatha. Agatha’s cunt clenched around it, involuntarily because she was so ready for her wife to fill her with come. Her body was beyond ready. Her clit was aching with anticipation.

“Yes, go ahead,” she said, pretending she was doing it for Rio, when really she herself was also ready to explode.

Rio started to thrust again, moaning deeply. Agatha had never heard her wife make such a sound. It was so hot. Fuck, she needed to come. Agatha swiped her clit one more time, and quickly found herself at the point of no return. Her orgasm was deep, much more satisfying than when she had the strap. Her cunt pulsated, squeezing around Rio. Rio’s face contorted in pleasure, pulled out an inch, and thrust into Agatha’s still spasming cunt.

With one more thrust, Rio reached her own point of no return, and came hard into Agatha. Warmth filled her as Rio shot an obscene amount of come into her. The extended edge apparently had that effect on Rio as Agatha was shocked at how much came out of her wife. It was threatening to drip out but Agatha locked her legs behind Rio’s ass.

Rio was making an alarming breathy noise, like she couldn’t get enough oxygen. After nearly a minute of her filling Agatha, she collapsed on top of Agatha.

Agatha removed her hands from Rio’s rib’s and combed Rio’s sweaty hair from the back of her neck, checking her pulse. Normally Rio’s pulse was something like a beat a minute, now it was several in a second.

Rio stayed inside of Agatha as she calmed down. Her torso knit itself back together, forming flesh yet again. Rio then made another noise Agatha had never heard her make before: she yawned.

“Something… is happening to me,” Rio said, her voice hoarse.

“What?”

“I don’t know… my body feels so heavy, and my eyes… I can’t keep them open.”

Agatha laughed. “Sweetheart, I think you’re falling asleep.”

Agatha could feel Rio’s cock shrinking, until it was fully out of Agatha, now back to a clit. Agatha tilted her hips up, making sure everything stayed inside of her. She would prefer Rio to just cockwarm her, but as Rio rolled over onto her side, her eyes drooping, she’d make an exception.

Rio rubbed at her face, looking adorable.

“I don’t like it…” Rio mumbled, yawning.

“Yeah, it’s fucking annoying, welcome to being more human.”

“I hope this isn’t permanent.”

Agatha just shrugged because she had no idea.

“We’ll see.”

Rio fought sleep for a few moments longer, frowning as she did so. Agatha knew the feeling, she used to hate sleeping when she was living in the woods, especially after Nicky died. She was too vulnerable, too hated, too isolated to feel safe enough to sleep. Her sleeping habits were not great for many years.

But now that she had begun to trust Rio again, and lived in an actual house, she caught up on the centuries of sleep she had missed out on. Now she loved sleeping, especially have a big meal and good sex.

Rio yawned, nuzzling her face into the sheets, and eventually fell asleep. It was so rare that Agatha took more pictures–this was not for her spank bank, just her ‘Rio being cute’ folder. She watched Rio for awhile, her legs tucked up against her hips. She too eventually fell asleep. That night she dreamt of babies, millions of them. Of course they all looked exactly like Rio, but even as she woke up the next morning, she found it difficult to be annoyed.

Agatha was on edge for weeks afterward. She took note of any change in her body, anything out of the ordinary. For while, there was nothing. She felt no difference.

But then, one morning, she woke up nauseous. After she got over the annoyance over feeling sick, she realized what that could mean. Rio wasn't next to her, likely working, so Agatha couldn't ask her to check.

Luckily she had bought actual pregnancy tests. Well, stole them. Anyway.

She leapt from bed, ignoring the reeling in her stomach, dug three pregnancy tests out. She managed to piss on all three of them at the same time because she was not waiting until she had to pee again to retake a test.

She waited. She tried to not stare at the tests, but it was difficult not to. The nausea was replaced by anxious energy as she flexed her fingers over and over.

Then, she looked, and saw them. All three had the plus signs.

"Rio…" She said aloud, hand over her mouth—she washed her hands.

There was a crackle of energy behind her and Rio popped into view.

"My love, what is it?" Rio put her hands on Agatha's shoulders, then peered around her. She froze when she saw the pregnancy tests.

"Are you…"

Agatha pulled Rio's arms around her, placing Rio's hands on Agatha's belly.

"You're going to be a Papa again, Rio," Agatha said, trying to laugh around tears.

"I am a Papa, Agatha. And you're a Mama. We have been those things."

Unfortunately, Agatha was always so focused on being Nicky's mother, she had separated Rio from being Nicky's other mother. Rio had become another entity to Agatha, she became Death again. Agatha's love for her son completely overshadowed any love she had for Rio.

"I know… I just hope…" Agatha couldn't bring herself to say it. I hope this child lives, I hope they're healthy, I hope we don't have to go through what we went through with Nicky. Maybe this was already a mistake, because Agatha was now wondering if she could mentally handle what she went through with Nicky.

"I know." Rio kissed her neck.

"I didn't sleep after Nicky died," Agatha said, sucking in a long breath.

"I know."

Of course Rio knew, she watched Agatha for years. Agatha kept seeing Nicky face everytime she closed her eyes, so she went without sleep as long as she could. Between spells, and potions, and sheer willpower, she kept it up for a few weeks. Eventually, her body gave out the moment she sat down. She dreamt of Nicky and a demonic Rio stealing him away.

Rio was no longer her wife but a monster, Death.

But now, looking at Rio in the mirror, her arms wrapped around Agatha, her hands brushing against Agatha's stomach, Agatha felt an emotion she very, very rarely felt—guilt.

Her stomach rolled again, she pushed Rio away, and bent over the toilet to throw up. Rio was behind her again in an instant, holding her hair back and rubbing her back.

"I am here for whatever you need, my love," Rio said.

Agatha shuddered, vomiting up very little as her stomach was mostly empty. She just nodded, already wishing she could kill Rio. With Nicky she had bad morning sickness, among other annoying symptoms. She was suddenly remembering that.

The next few months passed quickly. Agatha's belly grew, as did her appetite. She also felt less tired than she had with Nicky, which she took as a good sign.

But her hormones were all over the place. She would jump back and forth between being crabby and crying, to extremely horny, and back to crying after she had an orgasm. Sometimes she was both at the same time and had to convince Rio she was fine.

Rio was very attentive, often feeling Agatha's stomach and trying to determine if the fetus was growing right.

One day, Rio accidentally let the sex of the baby slip.

"She seems very active," Rio said, her ear pressed to Agatha's stomach.

"…She?" Agatha blinked at Rio. "Did you say, she?"

Rio's eyes widened and she looked up at Agatha. "Yes, I guess I did. It is a girl."

Agatha sobbed. She loved having a boy, but she was not one of those women who insisted a boy was easier than a girl. Yes, sometimes she was a little bit of a misogynist mainly because she had a bad experience with witch women, but she had no ill-will towards girl children.

"I hope she looks a little more like you," Rio said. "I'm sorry Nicky got most of my good looks."

"No… he was precious. But yes, I hope she looks like me. Oh fuck, we're having a daughter." Agatha wiped her eyes, laughing at the same time.

As they got closer to the due date, Agatha decided she wanted a mid-wife. And guess who she decided to hire! Her very good best friend, Jennifer Kale.

Jennifer was still not Agatha's biggest fan, but she would never refuse assisting in the safe birth of a child. And bless her because Agatha was an awful patient.

"You know, this will be a first. I've delivered witch children, but never a half-Death child," Jennifer said as she examined Agatha.

"We're hoping it will be no different," Agatha said. "How's it look? I mean, you've seen my pussy before, but…"

Jen gave her a very pointed glare from between Agatha’s legs.

Years ago, many years ago, Agatha had wandered into an old school dyke bar in New York, hoping to find some witches to suck. Instead she found a young mid-wife that she ended up sucking, just in a different way. Jennifer got a little too attached to Agatha after that and Agatha fled, to Boston. It was a crazy coincidence that Jennifer went there too and Agatha gave some doctor a spell that robbed Jennifer of her powers for a hundred years. Oopsie.

Agatha didn't blame Jen for hating her, honestly.

Rio's grip tightened on Agatha's shoulder. She did not like Agatha bringing that up. She didn't like any woman that had been with Agatha sexually, but she did begrudgingly admit Jennifer was good as a midwife.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Anyways, how it look, Kale?"

Jennifer sat back in her chair. "Everything is looking good. Baby is growing correctly, both yours and the baby's heartbeat sounds good. Obviously anything could still happen, but right now things are on track to go well."

When Agatha was pregnant with Nicky, Rio had sensed something was going wrong when Agatha was about seven months along. Nicky had become weaker, not moving as much as he had been. Agatha had become exceedingly tired, never feeling like she was getting enough sleep.

Among the many things Agatha did wrong in her mother's eyes, Evanora often told Agatha how awful it was to be pregnant with Agatha. Fetus Agatha's siphon ability presented as sucking the life out of Evanora, leaving her basically powerless for the majority of the pregnancy. Agatha, however, was born perfectly healthy, strong from siphoning her mother for nine months. Evanora had refused to breastfeed Agatha, wishing to make as little contact with her infant daughter as possible.

Even the wet nurse who fed Agatha gave the baby little affection, only offering her breast. Thus Agatha was incredibly touch-starved, and ironically, the first true hug she got was from Death. Cradled in Death's arms seemed almost too poetic.

When Nicky was born, Agatha held her son as much as possible. She mourned when he started to develop some independence and didn't want to be held by his mother as much as he used to, but she also didn't force her son to do anything he didn't want to do. She was the opposite of the kind of mother Evanora was. Agatha was far from a perfect parent, but she loved her son intensely. Something Evanora was never able to do for Agatha.

With this baby, Agatha felt good, powerful, even. She felt more connected to her pregnant body than she had with Nicky. And Rio couldn't get enough of Agatha's pregnant body. So often Agatha would catch Rio staring at her belly, eyes wide and dark.

"I did this to you," Rio said one evening, one hand on Agatha's stomach, the other combing through Agatha's wet bush. "I created life."

"You just came in me, remember? I am actually growing her," Agatha pointed out, shifting her hips so Rio had a good enough angle to finger her.

"This is true. You are so powerful, sweetheart."

"I am the only woman ever to carry a child and give birth, I am the most special person ever," Agatha half-joked.

"I would gladly pretend that is true," Rio said. "You carry a child better than anyone."

Rio immediately plunged three fingers into Agatha's eager cunt.

"You are the best mother, ever, Agatha. And you will give birth to the best child ever. The best human that as ever existed, after you, of course."

Agatha chanted "yes, yes" over and over, rocking her hips against Rio's hand. She circled her own clit, coming far more quickly than she expected to. Her body was so over-sensitive from the hormones, frequently coming just as they got started. Luckily she could keep going, making Rio wring seven more orgasms out of her before she fell asleep.

When she reached nine months, things were going well, but she was being a raging bitch. Between the back aches, headaches, swollen ankles, constipation, she was not having a great time. Spells didn't work especially well on her because of her siphon abilities, so modern medicine was her go to. They helped somewhat but she did not feel great.

"I'm ready for this thing to get out of me," she groaned, hands roaming over her massive belly.

"It's almost time, but she hasn't dropped yet," Rio said.

"Then get moving, kid!" Agatha yelled at her stomach.

"Jennifer said she could turn the baby, but only if it really looks like she isn't turning on her own. Perhaps a walk?"

"I don't want to walk, my feet hurt…"

"We can walk and then I'll massage your feet," Rio offered.

Agatha was trying with all her might to not snap at Rio, but it was difficult. Rio didn't even feel pain on her own, how could she possibly know what Agatha was feeling. Rio didn't even have a menstrual cycle.

"I don't wanna…" Agatha grumbled.

Rio didn't force her that day, but they went the next day. Agatha complained the whole time, hoping to get a good foot and back massage out of it. And she did. Followed by Rio fucking her.

It did not help moving the baby.

But Agatha enjoyed it nonetheless, she didn’t need an excuse to get fucked by her wife.

Agatha adored being pregnant in the sense she loved the reminder that she was carrying life inside of her, feeling that life moving. She did not like the symptoms that went with it. Some potions helped, some did not. And she wanted to be careful about overdoing it in case it was harming the baby.

One morning, though, a week before Agatha's due date, Agatha woke up with immense pressure in her body and the worst cramps of her life. She went to reach out for Rio in bed before finding her wife not there. She was working.

'Rio, I need you,' Agatha said in her head.

'My love, are you okay?' Rio asked, her voice slightly panicked even inside of Agatha's head.

'I think it's starting,' she thought.

There was a pop and Rio was there. Agatha remembered going into labor with Nicky, alone and hiding from Rio. Hiding from Death. She had no mid-wives, no coven, no wife. Agatha gave birth alone in the woods. She had to cut the cord herself, pass the placenta by herself and bury it to avoid attracting wildlife.

And Nicky was a unique baby, on top of him being on borrowed time. He wouldn't feed from Agatha's breast. It took from trial and error to find out her son fed from death. Like Agatha fed from magic, except Agatha also ate real food. Nicky did not. He could, but that wasn't what provided him with sustenance.

It was after Agatha killed a coven and Nicky perked up, already looking better.

Agatha never told her son that, though, because she wanted to make him feel as normal as possible. How do you tell a little boy he was alive because of death, and because of Death—his other mother. She'd rather him believe she was killing witches to protect them. Which was also true, technically, because they all hated her. Before the Salem Seven became the demons they eventually were, they spread rumors about Agatha. They of course left out that Agatha's powers were mainly self-defense. Agatha was far from perfect—well, she was pretty perfect, honestly—but the other witches didn't need to blast her with powers. A punch would've been more effective.

She has been punched before. Many times.

Anyway, her son was unusual in many ways.

And she missed him everyday, even though his face had faded slightly in her memory. Sometimes when she dreamt of him, his face was blurred. A vague idea of him.

Many times she woke up in tears, desperately trying to remember every details of him. Unfortunately the most vivid memory of him was the night he died. His sweet, sleeping face (before that was replaced with the blue face of his dead body, still looking like he was sleeping. If Agatha had known it was his last night, she would've stayed up all night to watch him. She had kept watch for a while little bit, as she often did before sleeping to make sure they were safe. But eventually she fell asleep. Even powerful siphon witches need sleep.

Agatha had forgiven Rio, but that memory still stung.

But as Rio ran her hands over Agatha's stomach, carefully checking over them both, the pain eased a little bit. Well, the emotional pain, not the physical pain. Because right now it felt like her body was being ripped in half.

"She feels very strong, Agatha," Rio said. "I feel her heartbeat."

"Yeah?" Agatha laughed, already in tears.

"I can't wait to meet you, little one," Rio cooed to Agatha's belly.

They called Jennifer, told her what was happening, how far apart the contractions were, and Jen told them to meet her at the clinic. Rio could teleport Agatha, but Agatha wanted to avoid any issues, so they drove. Agatha was a terrible driver, but had mind controlled the instructor to give her a license.

Except now Rio was driving and looked terrified. Death herself was scared to drive. Not because of herself of course because she couldn't die, but because of Agatha, and their daughter.

"What if I crash?" Rio asked, her voice unnaturally high.

"Don't crash," Agatha said simply. "Only one foot, Rio. Right foot presses gas and brakes, don't use your left foot."

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"I said that the first time I drove the first car that had this shit, but you figure it out. Now, let's go have a baby."

Agatha's groans spurred Rio on and motivated her to drive to Jen's clinic. The contractions were coming three minutes apart now, so she was definitely close.

By the time they got there Agatha was even closer. Her water had broken in the car.

Rio parked right outside on the curb, got out and rounded the car, and scooped her wife out to carry her. Agatha wrapped her arms around Rio, the pain starting to become unbearable.

Jen met them at the door and could immediately tell Agatha was close.

"You ready to have a baby, Agatha?" She asked, being far too perky for Agatha's taste. "This is going to fucking suck. And you requested no painkillers, huh?"

Agatha bared her teeth at her mid-wife.

"And even if you changed your mind, it's too late. I can already tell,” Jen giggled.

Rio carried Agatha to her room. Her wife whispered gentle things to her the whole time, but Agatha wanted to find a way to kill Death because she did this to Agatha. It was all Rio's fault, not Agatha because Agatha couldn't imagine wanting to do this to herself. In this moment she was forgetting the joy she felt seeing Nicky the first time.

Right now she could only focus on the searing pain in her vagina and asshole. And if she could figure out a way to kill Rio.

Agatha changed into a gown for a little bit but quickly decided she wanted to be naked, so she tore the gown off. Jen frowned at her.

"Oh, you've seen all of this before," Agatha said with an eye roll.

Rio pinched Agatha.

"As my mid-wife! Jeez! Get a sense of humor, you two."

Agatha paused before grinning. "And also because we fucked."

Rio looked like she wanted to kill Jen, who shrank back from Rio's dark stare.

"Don't kill her, sweetheart, I need her right now."

"She's lucky I can't kill," Rio mumbled, turning her attention back to Agatha. "Can I get you anything? Ice chips?"

"Is that all I can have?" Agatha asked, annoyed. She hadn't had breakfast since she had just woken up and was already feeling hungry.

"You can't eat until you give birth, in case you need surgery," Jen explained while she checked between Agatha's legs. "It sucks, but I want to take precaution. Okay, you're dilated nine centimeters. You've very close."

“Yeah no shit, Kale,” Agatha said with gritted teeth.

Rio rubbed Agatha’s stomach, her normally calm, slightly blank expression, was replaced with a wide-eyed demeanor. She was staring at Agatha’s belly, and it was making Agatha anxious.

”I don’t like that, don’t do that with your face. Is there something wrong?” Agatha asked.

”No, I sense no distress from the baby, I just… And your heartbeat feels strong, but…” Rio swallowed. “I feel out of control. I’d move the universe to protect you, but even that feels not good enough.”

Agatha put her hand over top of Rio’s, ignoring that Jen was watching them. If she wasn’t about to give birth she’d made Jen leave, but she didn’t want the mid-wife to go anywhere.

”Aww, is the personification of Death scared? Poor baby,” Agatha teased.

Rio tilted her head. “Yes, I am. I can admit that. I love you, and love this baby very much.”

”Pussy,” Agatha said out of the corner of her mouth.

Jen let out a laugh off to the side. Rio glared at her. And for a moment, Agatha forgot about how much pain she was. Riling up drama brought her so much joy.

It was short-lived thought because as her body got to ten centimeters, the contractions became unbearable. Groans and whines came from her uncontrollably. Sweat coated her body.

”Agatha, I think you’re there, you can start pushing now,” Jen said.

”Wait, fuck… I don’t want to do it like this,” Agatha grunted.

”Like… What?”

Agatha made Rio help her get up off of the bed. Bracing herself against the side of the bed, she lowered herself down into a squatting position. Understanding, Jen pulled the blanket off the bed and made something of a nest underneath Agatha.

”I did this in the woods with Nicky, and I’ll do it again. It was fucking primal and that’s how I wanna do this,” Agatha said. The pressure between her legs built to a dizzying level.

”It is more natural,” Jen agreed.

Rio squatted beside Agatha, rubbing her back. She was quiet, which was fine because Agatha didn’t need anyone whispering forced positivity into her ear.

Jen kneeled in front of her, her hands underneath Agatha. “Okay, Agatha, let’s do this, then. You know what to do.”

And she did, animal instinct taking over. With each contraction, she pushed. She vaguely aware of herself screaming, the pain consuming her whole body.

“I feel her head,” Jen said. “You’re almost there.”

Agatha would tell her to shut the fuck up but found herself unable to speak. Also she knew the fucking head was tearing her cunt apart.

She had forgotten about how much this hurt, maybe she was too distracted by fear when Nicky was born, or it had been long enough ago for her to forget.

Rio’s breath was warm as she pressed her face into Agatha’s neck, her lips on Agatha’s pulse. She was silent, but her presence was very, very welcome. She was alone when she had Nicky, she was alone when he died. She had been alone most of her life.

But now she wasn’t.

And she was about to have a new love in her life.

A new love that was currently tearing her apart. She nearly blacked out as the head passed, then felt almost relief as the rest of the body emerged. Her body relaxed as soon as she heard the squalling scream of a baby.

Alma Vidal-Harkness was born at 2am that night. 7lbs 2oz. Completely healthy—Agatha made both Rio and Jen reassure her Alma was healthy before she fell asleep.

Nicky cried a lot as a baby. Agatha hated to think about it but he was likely in pain, existing in a body not meant to be there. He settled as he got older, but unfortunately probably just becoming used to his constant discomfort.

Alma cried, as most newborns did, but she did so out of hunger, or needing to be changed.

Rio held her perfectly from the beginning, despite never getting to hold Nicky.

“It’s how I take infants to the afterlife,” she explained as she carefully took Alma into her arms, smiling toothily at her daughter. “Despite not understanding what is happening to them, I still want to bring them into the next life with warmth. It’s why I get frustrated with people seeing death as cold. Yes, bodies become cold, but I am not.”

Rio stared at Alma as she spoke, her thumb massaging Alma’s tiny palm. The baby squirmed, looked as though she might cry, and settled down.

“I know you’re not, you’re actually pretty hot. I overheat when I sleep next to you,” Agatha said, trying to sound annoyed despite her heart clenching in absolute love.

Rio was studying Alma closely and it was making Agatha nervous.

“What’s wrong?”

Rio kissed Alma on the forehead. “Nothing, but sense no magic within her.”

“Are you sure?”

Rio smiled. “Obviously magic can manifest in different ways, such as yourself, but as of right now, I don’t sense anything. The spell we did to conceive her probably blocked our magic completely. We knew this was a possibility.”

Agatha placed her hand on Alma’s tiny head. She was so beautiful.

“I will love her no matter what, magic or not,” Agatha said, her voice cracking.

Alma was a good baby, but Agatha was not prepared for how much a healthy baby ate. Nicky had weird eating habits so Agatha didn’t breastfeed him much, so Alma was a learning curve. Rio knew the basics of how babies ate, but had trouble with the nitty gritty.

“I can form milk, I think, I can help,” Rio offered one night when Agatha was up with the baby and was exhausted.

“My milk has a lot of nutrients that you might not be able to replicate, so I don’t want to mess that up,” Agatha said around a yawn.

“Sadly my breasts are useless,” Rio said, staring at her daughter as she suckled greedily.

“They are not useless,” Agatha said, offended. “Just because a baby can’t eat from them doesn’t mean I can’t take advantage of them.”

Rio rested her hand on top of Alma’s fuzzy little, smiling broadly.

“I can’t believe we made this. Just like we made Nicky,” Rio said. “She’s so beautiful.”

“She is.” Agatha gazed down as Alma ate away. It hurt, her gummy little mouth roughly suckling at Agatha’s nipples. As uncomfortable at it was, Agatha couldn’t imagine not doing this. Obviously if her daughter hadn’t taken her breast, she’d feed Alma from a bottle, but she was pretty happy she was able to do this. Fuck her own mother for depriving her of this type of bonding. Looking at her tiny daughter she couldn’t imagine Evanora looking at newborn Agatha and refusing to feed her.

Agatha sniffed, her nose suddenly running, a stray tear running down her cheek.

“Are you okay, Agatha?” Rio asked, her hand moving from Alma’s head to Agatha’s forearm.

“Yeah, just thinking about my bitch of my mom.”

“I think about that often. You know I’ve taken infants because of lack of maternal affection. Babies die from that, and not just humans. Your strength even from birth is testament of that.”

Agatha shifted Alma to her other breast.

“And to think you could’ve taken me to the afterlife as a baby and not even know who I would’ve become.” Agatha said it like a joke even though it wasn’t really funny.

Rio hummed. “And I thank the universe everyday that wasn’t the case.”

Agatha felt another tear threatening to fall. These damned post-pregnancy hormones. She tipped her head back, trying to keep it in.

“In any case,” Rio continued, “she’s here and she’s so loved.”

“The most loved any person has ever been,” Agatha agreed. She stroked her thumb across Alma’s soft cheek. The baby frowned slightly, making Agatha laugh.

After Alma was fed and burped, Rio took over changing her and settling her back into her bassinet.

It had been 7 weeks since the birth and it was the just recently that Agatha felt like she had any sex drive. It was very, very unusual for her to have no sex drive. Rio’s sex drive was predicated on Agatha’s so she had no issue waiting, but Agatha was impatient.

Thankfully, it was starting to return. The other problem was she was exhausted. As much as she wanted to be conscious while Rio fucked her, once she was settled in bed it was physically impossible for her to stay awake. The moment she rested her head on her pillow, she was out.

Neither of them had issue with somnophilia, though. It became a ritual for her to wake up, her cunt pulsing from an orgasm while Rio’s face was buried between her legs.

It worked while Alma was a lumpy little baby who couldn’t see or understand what was happening around her.

As Alma grew it became more difficult because she’d lean up on her bassinet and stare at them in the dark, while Rio’s cock was inside of Agatha.

”She can see us,” Agatha whispered.

”She can’t see in the dark and her eyesight still isn’t that good.”

”You can see in the dark, who’s to say she can’t?”

Agatha could vaguely see Rio’s hand move back and forth in Alma’s direction.

”Her eyes aren’t tracking my hand, she can’t see us,” Rio said. “But if you want to stop, we can stop.”

”I don’t want to fuck her up anymore than we probably already are,” Agatha sighed.

Agatha was very, very rarely the person to end sex. That was Rio when she realized Agatha was pushing her human body too hard. It being Agatha this time was a once in a lifetime thing.

”We need to figure something else out,” Agatha said. “Like, time it to when she’s actually sleeping. Or…”

”Or?”

Agatha wanted to avoid this for as long as possible, because she liked having Alma so close. She was used to Nicky being close, the two of them sleeping next to each other for six years. But this was a different case, a different time. And they had an actual house this time.

“Alma maybe should have her own room?” Agatha felt sick bringing it up. “Does that make us horrible people for making our baby sleep in a different room so we can fuck?”

Rio pulled out of Agatha and pulled her sleep shorts back up.

”No, I don’t think so. I honestly don’t know what other parents do, but maybe separate space is good…? Though, most other animal species keep their babies with them until the offspring is able to defend themself, but Alma is far from that.”

”The parenting books I read keep giving me conflicting advice. I went on some Facebook mom groups and they’re so fucking annoying, so I started trolling them.” Agatha chuckled at the memory. She loved riling people up on the internet, it was so easy. She got no magical boost from pissing people off on the internet, but it was very entertaining.

”Some say you should let them cry, others say you shouldn’t and that it’s bad for the baby…”

Parenting in the 1700s was easier because there were little to no expectations, it was basically feed and clothe your children. Keeping them clean wasn’t always a necessity, but despite living in the woods, Agatha did her best practice good hygiene with her son.

Now, there were so many rules. Agatha was all about breaking rules, but when it came to Alma’s safety, she was more than willing to follow these rules. The right car seat when they drove? Fine. And Agatha even took driving classes to get better at it. Rear-facing, all the straps in correctly, Agatha was all about that. She usually didn’t even wear her a seatbelt, but Alma was going to be as safe as possible.

They even got a Subaru which was considered one of the safest cars. Also, they were lesbians, so, it was a given.

When Alma was six months old, she got her own room. It was painted with star constellations, against dark walls. A stuffed bunny resembling Scratchy sat on a small nightstand, a gift from Billy. The real Scratchy didn’t care for it, biting it when he first saw it, so Agatha kept it high so he couldn’t rip it apart.

Scratchy did love Alma though. Agatha and Rio were very firm about teaching their daughter about ‘soft touch’. Of course her brilliant baby picked that up quickly because Scratchy was very comfortable in Alma’s tiny lap when she could sit up.

“Bunny” was Alma’s first word. “Scratchy” was her second. Followed by “Papa.” Agatha pretended to not be offended by it, but she was. Rio alternated between ‘Papa’ and ‘Mother’ in terms of what she referred to herself as, but Papa was easier to say.

”The P sound is easier to say because it’s less lip movement,” Rio tried to reason.

”Whatever, it’s not like I gave birth to her and feed her,” Agatha sniffed.

Agatha didn’t want to believe the saying, forgetting what it was like with Nicky, but the days were slow but the years were fast. A few years passed, Alma grew like a weed, and she still showed no signs of magic. But she turned out to be as smart as a whip like Agatha, and a little wild like Agatha, and observant like both of her parents.

And she looked like Agatha!

Nicky looking like Rio had been a slap in the face, despite loving her son. Seeing Rio’s face after Nicky died was too painful, reminding her so much of their son.

But having a little girl with mostly Agatha’s face was very nice.

She did have Rio’s toothy, slightly gapped smile, though, which is fine. Agatha did love Rio’s smile, because Rio gave those features to herself.

When Alma neared her sixth birthday, Agatha found herself crying everyday for a week. While Alma didn’t have a striking resemblance to Nicky, their smile was so similar, everytime her daughter smile, Agatha’s heart cracked open a little bit.

It didn’t help that Agatha was struggling to remember what Nicky was like exactly at that particular age. Was he taller, shorter? What did his voice sound like? Alma had a wild little laugh, something she had inherited from both mothers, since even Rio had a nice little cackle—Agatha still remembered when she had taught Rio to laugh like that. But Alma had a much more usual childhood than her brother. She had her own bed, food good, roof over her head.

With Nicky, Agatha had led a largely nomadic lifestyle because of her reputation she couldn’t stay in one place for too long. While the murder wasn’t something she regretted, she did regret not being about to let her son live life as a normal little boy, because he wasn’t normal.

And seeing Alma grow to be relatively normal, Agatha felt both absolute joy and heartache.

And she could see it in Rio’s expression too. Her wife never got to be a parent to Nicky, other than ushering him into death. She watched her daughter like a hawk, like she did to Agatha. She was quieter than Agatha but she could be very expressive sometimes.

When Alma walked for the first time, she cried.

“Humans are so amazing!” Rio had gasped, sniffling. “She went from this blubbery little baby to walking on her fat little legs. I remember seeing your ancestors walk on two legs for the first time, it was so cute. And now our daughter is doing it!”

Agatha wanted to roll her eyes, say Rio was being dramatic, but she cried right along with her wife. It was amazing, her daughter was the most amazing human ever, even if she wasn’t a witch.

”Should we send her to school?” Rio asked one lazy morning, their daughter sprawled on top of them both in bed, her wild hair everywhere. “I know neither of us went to school, but maybe it would be beneficial.”

Rio had no concept of school, so Agatha found it funny Rio brought it up.

”You don’t think the an immortal being who knows everything about the world, and a witch with an impressively big brain can’t teach our daughter?”

”And it is admirable you are as smart as you are, especially since your mother had refused to properly teach you.”

It was true, on top of Evanora refusing to let Agatha learn most spells, she had limited her schooling too. Instructing yourself in the late 1600’s in the middle of the Massachusetts woods was incredibly difficult, but Agatha managed. She stole both dark magic tomes and books on math and science.

Of course she had to update a lot of her knowledge as she got older, as science developed and they learned more. When she was with Rio the first time Rio taught her a lot about science and evolution, long before other people discovered it.

Agatha was greedy for knowledge, like she was greedy for everything else. Even at 352 years old, she wanted to learn more. And she wanted her daughter to be the same way.

”American schools suck, and the kids there suck, I don’t want our daughter to be stifled like I was,” Agatha mumbled, fingers combing through her daughter’s tangled hair.

”Impossible,” Rio said. “We’re still her parents, and we will teach her what school cannot.”

”So what’s the point?”

Rio put her arms behind her head and looked down at Alma. “I’ve had to learn a lot about humans over the last few hundred years, past the physical stuff I knew. I learned what’s under the surface, what’s in there,” she tapped Agatha on the forehead, “and here,” she tapped Agatha’s chest.

”Corny as hell…” Agatha murmured, but couldn’t hide a little smile. “But I don’t know what you’re saying.”

”Being human is more than being smart, it’s about having a variety of experiences. Within one species, humans are diverse and unique, so I think our daughter should have those unique experiences. And that involves being with children her own age.”

When Nicky was little he hardly ever got to interact with other children. They never stayed long enough for him to develop attachments, and even if they did, if the children were children of witches, they didn’t trust him. And it broke Agatha’s heart to see her dejected little boy.

”They might be mean to her, though,” Agatha said.

”Then we’ll deal with that. You and I can both be rather scary,” Rio chuckled.

”More so you, skeleton face,” Agatha said, rather proudly. She loved Rio’s human face but her skeleton face was rather hot too.

”We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, but I do think we should give it a try. If Alma hates it, we’ll pull her out and homeschool her.”

Agatha pulled Alma closer to her. Her daughter grunted in annoyance, so much like Agatha because Agatha also hated her sleep being disturbed.

Alma turned six, Agatha cried again. Rio held her as their daughter blew her birthday cake candles out. Alma flashed her toothy smile, now missing her front two teeth as her baby teeth had started to fall out. Agatha hoped she had a little gap like Rio had.

They had enrolled Alma in a good school, and with some light mind control and intimidation, she got in. And she was so excited. A lot of New Jersey schools were considered very highly rated.

They took her to buy school supplies and new clothes. Alma was a little bit more feminine than Agatha would have been at that age, so she did want to buy some dresses. And Agatha could not say no to her own blue eyes staring back at her.

Plus Alma looked adorable in a yellow dress with purple flowers around the bottom.

Agatha was fully expecting her daughter to cry as her mothers walked her up towards the brick building school. It was only one level but it looked imposing. It made Agatha’s stomach hurt.

She looked over at Rio, who was chewing on her lower lip as she looked down at the top of Alma’s head. Her wife’s eyes were big and watery, greatly resembling the day their daughter was born. Agatha swallowed down an immense wave, barely keeping it together.

She would not break down in front of these parents, all of which she did not give a shit about.

She was doing well until Alma yanked her hands out of Agatha and Rio’s, said, “you can go now,” and walked towards her teacher.

Agatha bit her lip hard, until she tasted blood.

She turned towards Rio, pushing her body into Rio’s. Rio wrapped her arms around Agatha, pressing her lips into Agatha’s ear.

“I know,” Rio whispered, her voice wavering, “she’ll be okay.”

“I know, she’s our daughter. It’s just…”

“I know,” Rio repeated softly.

They both looked back at their daughter, watching as she disappeared into the school.

Alma’s time in school flew after that. Time was cruel and a bitch but also so wonderful as Alma grew. Far taller than Nicky ever got to be.

By fifteen she was taller than both of them, maybe an inch or two taller than Rio.

She was gorgeous, looking very similar to Agatha, touches of Rio, but also her own person. She exceeded in school, eventually becoming Valedictorian of her high school class.

Making friends was easier for her, much more than it was for Agatha. But Agatha was happy for her, never wanting to compete with her daughter. Agatha could be petty as hell, but would never be that way in regards to her daughter. She understood that Alma had much different experiences than Agatha ever had.

Including having a girlfriend and never feeling ostracized by her mother.

In college, Alma started dating a young woman named Sawyer. She seemed nice enough but Agatha and Rio grilled her anyway because Agatha was not going to let her baby girl’s heart be broken.

Shortly after meeting her, she realized Sawyer was a witch.

“Of course I knew, I met her in a witch’s club. Just because I’m not one, I am the child of two,” Alma said. “I’m honoring my culture. Please don’t kill her, though.”

“I will if she hurts you, but…” Agatha put her hands on Alma’s upper arms. “But not just because she’s a witch. So, you have a thing for redheads, huh?”

Sawyer had a nice head of curly, red hair, that she was constantly pushing out of her face. Or Alma would do that for her.

Her daughter was absolutely in love. Agatha wasn’t a sappy person, but she did love seeing her daughter so happy.

They got married when Alma was 25. It was a simple, lovely wedding in the woods of Massachusetts, near the cabin Agatha and Rio used to live in together. It had long collapsed as Agatha couldn’t bring herself to be inside of it again. It held too many memories, both amazing and heartbreaking. So she let nature have at it. But she still had a deep, deep connection to these woods. A lot of them were gone, overtaken by suburbs and strip malls, but they were able to find a nice spot.

Rio had erected a gorgeous arch made of vines and different flowers. The weather was perfect the day of, sunshine streaming in through the thick, green foliage. Personally, Agatha would’ve done a Fall wedding, but Alma took after Rio in the sense she loved Spring.

Alma wore a flower crown of purple flowers and green vines. Sawyer wore a crown of red poppies and roses, blending into her curly red hair. Alma beamed at Sawyer the whole time, and Agatha did notice Sawyer did the same.

Jen attended with her wife, Diana. Aunt Jen and Aunt Diana, which Rio hated that Jen was so close to their family now. Agatha hated Jen, but she also loved her deeply—not that she’d ever say that to Jen. Plus, Alma loved Jen, too, often dressing like the Potions Witch. Alma did look cute in pink. And Sawyer was a Potions Witch as well, so Alma had a connection to that type.

Billy and Tommy were there, Billy with his husband… uh, Lenny? Frankie? Teddy? Something like that. And Tommy with his girlfriend and boyfriend—Agatha did not remember their names at all.

Plus all of Alma and Sawyer’s friends, because they had a lot of friends. Alma radiated a joy that Agatha was never able to have, never able to show. Again, perhaps if Agatha’s circumstances were different, she’d be more like how Alma is. How Nicky often was, as well. Or Agatha was always going to be Agatha. Who knows.

The wedding was perfect, the reception even better. Agatha and Jen had a drinking contest, until they started screaming at each other, then crying, then screaming again, and crying and hugging. Both Rio and Diana pulled their respective wives away from each other. Rio made Agatha eat something and drink some water.

”I need to siphon some witches!” Agatha wailed, shoving a brownie into her mouth. “It’s been sooooo long.”

”I know, my love,” Rio said, rubbing Agatha’s back, pushing the water glass closer to her. “But you promised Alma, remember?”

”The sacrifices you make for your children,” Agatha sniffed. “I’ve been magicless for too long. I’m hungry.”

”Eat a cupcake.”

”No,” Agatha said before opening her mouth wide and pushing the whole cupcake into it. “Hungry for magic.” She sprayed crumbs everywhere.

Rio wiped frosting from around Agatha’s mouth. ”What about hungry for sex?”

”Hm?”

Rio leaned forward and licked frosting off of Agatha’s face.

”It’s been awhile for that, too,” Rio said, petting Agatha’s hair. “But…” She tipped the water up to Agatha’s lips. Agatha sucked the water down greedily. “Not when you’re this drunk, I want you to remember.”

Agatha whined, but it turned out she didn’t remember that conversation, so it was a smart call.

She did remember Alma’s wedding though, for many, many years.

In the blink of an eye, Alma had a daughter.

Named Jennifer Vidal Harkness Sullivan.

Rio was pissed. But when she held her granddaughter for the first time, she let it go. Baby Jennifer had Agatha’s eyes, as the baby had come from Alma’s eggs, while Sawyer carried her.

Years passed, Alma got older, Agatha barely aged. Rio didn’t age at all, but gave herself streaks of grey hair to pretend to age. Agatha found it very hot.

One day, Alma was slow to rise from her chair, grunting softly, and Agatha realized.

Alma was aging. It had happened so gradually that Agatha hadn’t really noticed it, but now it was obvious. And it had happened much more rapidly than she was prepared for, so used to the aging process of witches.

She studied her daughter more closely after that. Her daughter was getting grey hair, lines around her eyes, similar smile lines to Agatha. Agatha had the appearance of a woman in her late-40s or early 50s, the appearance she had had for many, many years. She would look older eventually, but not for a long time. She probably had at least another 200 years—maybe more if she could figure something out. Assuming someone didn’t try to kill her, which was very possible.

Alma now looked older than her. Her daughter was about to turn 60, her own daughter 30. She moved a slightly more slowly, her knees stiff. She wasn’t elderly, but the days of being a spry little girl were far behind her.

Agatha thought back to when Alma was learning to walk, her legs wobbly and jelly-like—Agatha had learned that babies didn’t have kneecaps, which creeped her out. She had looked unsteady, unsure, and Agatha was seeing that again in her daughter.

It was two vastly different feelings. Back then, Agatha felt joy. Now, she felt trepidation.

She caught Rio watching her, her wife’s heavy eyes drifting over to Alma.

Rio just shook her head.

There was still a lot of time.

Baby Jennifer had a son when she was forty, when Alma was seventy.

The baby boy was named Nicholas.

Agatha fucking sobbed.

He didn’t look that much like her own Nicholas, but he had the roundest, fattest cheeks, and Agatha could not stop pinching them. Rio loved blowing raspberries on his fat baby belly. His giggling could possibly be a cure for anything that ailed anyone, Agatha constantly wanted a hit of it.

****

There was something interesting happening; Jennifer was a witch and was aging slowly, appearing to be in her 30s. Her mother was visibly older, increasingly frail. Seventy wasn’t especially old, so that raised red flags for all of them. Agatha found it odd that her daughter seemed so weak.

Turned out there was a very specific reason for that. Alma was diagnosed with breast cancer at 71. She tried both holistic approaches and medicines. Cancer treatment had made a lot of strides after the last few decades—it was almost 2100, after all.

But cancer was still aggressive.

Alma suddenly looked like the scared little girl she was over sixty years ago, Agatha’s baby girl in front of her again. Agatha held her when the medicine made her feel sick, felt every bone in her body.

Rio was hovering in the doorway of Alma’s room one afternoon when Alma was especially sick, now resting. Agatha had held her daughter’s hand while was throwing up, and Agatha herself felt like throwing up because seeing her daughter like this was one of the most painful things a mother could witness.

”I don’t like you doing that,” Agatha said to Rio while her wife watched them both. “It reminds me of…”

”I know, I’m sorry. I’ve seen death so many times, but it doesn’t make this any easier.”

Agatha’s heart jumped in her chest.

”Is it…?”

Rio shook her head. “It’s not. It’s not her time. She’s strong and I think she will beat this.”

”Are you sure?” Agatha asked, hugging her sleeping daughter tighter. Sawyer had gone out to buy ingredients for Alma’s favorite soup, so Agatha stayed by her daughter’s side.

”Agatha, I know, trust me. And you know I don’t lie.”

Rio sat on the edge of the bed. She took Alma’s hand in her own, studying the tendons and sunspots on the top of Alma’s hand.

”It will come, though, Agatha.”

”I know,” Agatha snapped.

”I know you do. But I feel I need to remind you.”

Anger and other complicated emotions bubbled inside of Agatha. Her eyes burned, her chest and stomach ached. She couldn’t meet Rio’s eye, her own resting on her daughter’s aging body.

Alma took ragged breaths, her brows knitting together. Agatha swallowed roughly, her throat dry.

When Nicky was growing up she usually watched him sleep, his breathing often troubling. He had a chronic cough, constant dark circles under his eyes. He was a sick little boy, but Agatha had ignored it because she wanted to believe she had endless time with him.

But she didn’t, and she didn’t with Alma.

She wanted to yell at Rio, plead with her once again. Maybe if she was pathetic enough Rio would do it again… But what would an extended life for an older woman even look like?

“I’d give her millions of years if I could. I’ve lived billions and I’ve loved all of them, except for a specific block of 6 years. Taking Nicky was the first time I felt true pain, and that pain remained until I saw you again when we reunited in Westview,” Rio said, her voice quiet.

Agatha finally looked at her. Rio’s eyes were shimmering.

“I don’t look forward to that pain again, but it’ll be better if I know you’ll accept what’s coming. Death comes for us all.”

“I hope Death only comes for me,” Agatha joked sardonically.

This got a little smile from Rio. “Of course, my love. But, seriously…”

“I can’t promise anything, you know I can’t. I can’t say how I’ll feel when it happens. But,” she put her hand over Rio’s, the one on Alma’s, “I won’t run from you again.”

“Promise?”

“Promise, on my mother’s grave.”

Rio shot Agatha a look, and Agatha cackled.

Agatha’s joking put Rio at ease, slightly, but Rio knew Agatha’s heart–which was currently pounding in her chest, her eyes burning from holding back tears. Rio knew better to push Agatha, risking Agatha retreating further into herself. It wasn’t what their daughter needed, and they both knew that.

Eventually, Alma’s cancer went into remission, her beautiful hair–now bright white–came back. Her energy came back, slightly, but she was noticeably weakened from what the cancer and radiation did to her body.

Sawyer had made herself visibly age with her wife, trying to show solidarity with Alma. Sawyer wasn’t physically that age, but merely resembled an older woman. She didn’t move as cautiously as Alma, her knees not constantly threatening to give out. Agatha knew her daughter–who took after Agatha in many ways–and could see how irritated that made Alma. Despite the good thing Sawyer was trying to do, Agatha understood why Alma hated it so much. But Alma was less vocal than Agatha and often kept it to herself.

“I understand why she’s doing it,” Alma sighed. “But… couldn’t she at least pretend to have achy joints?”

“Your Mom would probably do the same thing for me,” Agatha said. “I mean, she did make her body for me, basically. But yeah, it sometimes annoyed me when she pretended to understand what humans go through, the random pains and annoyances we have with a physical body. Obviously, I can’t fully relate to what you’re going through, but I get part of it.”

Alma rolled her eyes, looking so much like Agatha. “Sawyer is such a good person, I just…”

“You feel like a jerk saying something,” Agatha finished.

“Yes. Would it make me a jerk if I said something?”

Obviously, Agatha didn’t think so. It seemed perfectly reasonable to her. But tried to think what a normal, emotionally mature person would think.

“Maybe. Sawyer likes you a lot, so she might understand,” Agatha said, combing her fingers through her hair. “Or she might get pissed off. But she’d be a jerk if she got pissed off, you did just go through cancer.”

Alma smiled crookedly, looking like Rio. “So I should play the cancer card?”

Agatha put her hands up, palms out. “Hey, you said it.”

They both laughed together. It felt like the first time in a very long time.

Alma did talk to Sawyer. Alma was much more tender about bringing it up than Agatha would be, and Sawyer was reasonable. And loved Alma that much.

“I promise to walk more slowly, at least when I’m walking with you,” Sawyer said. “But I won’t pretend my knees hurt. But I will massage your legs when they ache, okay?”

Sawyer stepped closer to Alma, circling her arms around Alma. Alma peered at Agatha and Rio, who quietly stayed off to the side, observing the conversation.

“Not in front of my moms,” Alma mumbled, sounding much younger than her 73 years.

“Oh, they’ve said and done worse things in front of us,” Sawyer said, laughing. Alma lightly chuckled.

Agatha felt herself grinning, matching the wicked grin on Rio’s face. It was true, they didn’t censor themselves too much in front of their daughter growing up. But Alma was a little bit more shy than the two of them, preferring to be more private. Agatha didn’t understand, but Alma was her own person.

****

Being a great-grandmother was interesting. Her great-grandson Nicholas, called Nico, didn’t look like Nicky, but he was curious like Nicky. And Agatha loved telling him about his namesake. Rio was able to draw pictures of Nicky, her memory photographic. It pained her to see Nicky’s face again, but she saw how much Nico liked looking at his great-uncle.

Just as Rio had shown Alma, then Jennifer, she also taught Nico green craft, taught him about the earth. He wasn’t showing signs of being a witch or warlock yet, but like Alma, he was curious nonetheless.

Also like Alma and Jennifer, Nico turned six, and Agatha felt that ache again. Nicky was always going to haunt the narrative. But Agatha refused to let Nico see that. He was a sweet but wild little boy, rough and tumble, reminding Agatha so much of herself as a child. He was loud and a little obnoxious, but allowed to be so. Agatha never was.

She enjoyed him being an obnoxious, despite Jennifer constantly trying to correct him.

“He’s fine,” Agatha said.

“He shouldn’t act like that in public,” Jennifer said, sounding very exasperated. “We keep getting looks in restaurants.”

“Fuck them,” Agatha said, waving her hand. “They need to chill.”

“Grandma, respectively, but it’s been awhile since you parented,” Jennifer said.

“Yes, but I’d let Alma be herself.”

“Mom wasn’t loud like this, I’m sure. I think I need to get him tested for ADHD or something,” Jennifer said.

Agatha scoffed. “I thought we were way past getting kids over diagnosed. That’s so 2020.”

“I thought people also learned in 2020 that it’s not over diagnosis, just having better research.”

Jennifer had wild red hair, something she got from the donor–they picked someone who resembled Sawyer. And she had Agatha’s piercing blue eyes, which were now narrowed at her grandmother. They had butt heads for years, Agatha probably cursed to have turmoil with women named Jennifer.

She loved her granddaughter, but she could be an arrogant asshole sometimes. So stubborn, and proud, and kind of a dick. Agatha had no idea where she got it from.

“I’m old, can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” Agatha said, inspecting her fingernails.

Jennifer sucked her tongue, her eyebrow quirking at her grandmother.

“I feel you’ve held onto that mindset for a very long time.”

“Hey, it’s worked for a long time.”

“Maybe you don’t think Nico has ADHD because you have it and don’t recognize it as unusual,” Jennifer said.

Agatha stared at her granddaughter for a minute or so. She wanted to laugh, but it became clear Jennifer was serious.

“What makes you say that, dear granddaughter?”

“Because I’ve been researching it and I see a lot of the same symptoms in you. I see it in Grandma Rio too, but she’s not human so she doesn’t count. You show a lot of signs of AuDHD, actually.”

Jennifer was a grownass woman so Agatha had no qualms kicking her, but she didn’t because she was sure Alma wouldn’t appreciate that. As old as Jennifer now was, she was still her mother’s baby.

“You grew up in the colonial era, with an abusive mother so it’s understandable you never thought to delve into that,” Jennifer said.

“Are you really gonna therapize me?” Agatha was irritated but she couldn’t help but be proud of how intuitive Jennifer was. Maybe she was right. Agatha would research it later, but she wasn’t going to tell her granddaughter.

Jennifer sat back, looking smug. “I learned from the best.”

Agatha put her hand on her chest. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, my mom, Sawyer.”

Agatha flipped Jennifer off, making Jennifer laugh, then making Agatha laugh.

“Look, if Nico is ADHD or whatever, I’ll support him in anyway I can,” Agatha said after she stopped laughing.

“Thanks, Grandma,” Jennifer said, flipping her hair over her other shoulder.

“Anytime, baby.”

Nico turned out to have ADHD. Agatha did her own research and was sure she had AUDHD, but had no interest in doing anything about it. She’d gone over 400 years without any medication, and it was going to stay that way.

Nico with medication and coping techniques thrived, grew into a handsome young man, and got into Princeton with scholarships. He was tall, kind, and smart—exactly how Agatha imagined Nicky would’ve been. Nico had everything Nicky didn’t, plus some, and it pained Agatha slightly, but she was so proud of her family.

On the eve of Nico’s graduation, Alma collapsed in the kitchen.

They all ran to her, Nico trying to help her up, Jennifer’s hand on her arm. Agatha was in front of her, helplessly trying to figure out what to do. Sawyer’s voice was loud and high-pitched and getting on Agatha’s nerves.

“What should we do?” Sawyer asked.

Alma was unconscious and Agatha felt like she was going to throw up.

“I don’t fucking know,” she growled. “Rio…”

Rio materialized, her face solemn.

Agatha’s heart dropped.

“No.”

Rio crouched beside Agatha, her hand warm on Agatha’s shoulder.

“It’s close.”

“No.”

Hot tears fell down Agatha’s face, landing on the kitchen floor.

Alma was 88 years old, and while she was beautiful, she looked her 88 years. She used a walker now, her hands gnarled by arthritis. Her hair was completely white, but still thick, and cut short. Despite her aging body, she had been upbeat, like she was ready to face whatever.

But Agatha wasn’t.

She wanted to plead with Rio just as she had done so many, many years ago, when she was on a riverbank. Or when she had woken up to her dead son’s body beside her. She wanted Rio to break the rules again and make her daughter live forever.

But what life would that be? Alma was old, her body failing. She wasn’t a witch so her aging couldn’t be reversed so she’d be stuck in an 88-year-old body forever.

“We should make her comfortable,” Rio said. “I don’t think a hospital can do anything.”

The finality of Rio’s tone, the certainty of it, told Agatha everything.

Jennifer pressed her fingers to her eyes, Sawyer was crying but she nodded in agreement with Rio. Nico looked terrified as he was still only a boy, freshly 18–the age Agatha was when she murdered her coven.

But he did help his mom take Alma into the living room, and laid her on the couch. She had woken up by the time they all situated themselves in the room. Agatha was kneeling at Alma’s head when her daughter opened her eyes.

”Hi, Mama,” Alma said, her voice weak but still her usual bright self. “Are you okay?”

A soft, bony hand rested on Agatha’s face. Her thumb swiped a tear just as it leaked from Agatha’s eye. She looked over at Rio, studying the drawn expression of her mother.

”You all have terrible poker faces,” Alma said, chuckling lightly. “Normally you’re a better liar, Mama.”

Agatha put her hand on top of Alma’s head. “How do you feel, baby?”

Alma took a deep breath, her expression slightly pained before relaxing. “I feel okay.”

”Now who’s the liar,” Agatha tried to joke but found her voice breaking off.

”Do you need anything, Mom?” Jennifer asked, kneeling beside Agatha.

Alma closed her eyes and smiled. “I’m happy to have you all here.”

”I can make you any food you want,” Jennifer said.

”I’m not hungry.”

Jennifer started to lean against Agatha. Neither of them were particularly affectionate people. Even as a child Jennifer was a little standoffish, so like Agatha. But now, Agatha knew she needed her grandmother. Agatha couldn’t relate to the feeling of dreading the death of a mother, especially since she was the direct result of her own mother’s death.

So she fought against every instinct of hers and put an arm around her granddaughter. Then, she gestured to Nico to sit beside her.

”Nico, honey, I’m going to leave this up to you, and don’t feel guilt for what you decide. You don’t need to stay for this if you don’t want to, it’s a lot,” Agatha said softly.

”She’s right,” Alma said, her eyes still closed. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

”So… you’re really…” Nico swallowed. “She’s really…”

”I’m dying, honey,” Alma said. She opened her eyes, her lovely blue eyes.

Nico sniffled aggressively. “Okay, um…”

He took a minute to respond, his voice stuttering everytime he tried.

”I’ll stay,” he finally said. His voice broke Agatha’s heart.

Sawyer leaned over the armrest of the couch, kissing her wife on the forehead. “We’re all here, my love.”

Alma smiled up at Sawyer. “I love you all so much.”

With her granddaughter and great-grandson sandwiching her, Agatha was prevented from trying to leave. Her avoidant nature was telling her to leave, to run far, far away. Her emotions were starting to overwhelm her, making her brain feel muddled.

Her heart kept beating irregularly and she was slightly concerned she was about to have a heart attack. Wouldn’t that be something? If she ended up dying before her daughter could. That would be peak avoidant, dying so she wouldn’t have to experience her daughter dying.

When Nicky died she wasn’t given the option to see him die. In an act of mercy, Rio took Nicky while they were both sleeping. If Agatha had the option, what would she do? The idea of seeing her little boy in pain, or watching the light leaving his eyes…

She had the option now, and it was terrifying.

She looked up to see Rio watching her, as always.

’You’re okay,’ Rio mouthed to her, her eyes soft. ‘She’s okay.’

Agatha swallowed against a tight throat. She nodded in one sharp head bob.

Nico, despite being much taller than Agatha now, pressed into her. She put an arm around him, then one around Jennifer. Their presence was helping.

Of course it was a slow process. While Alma was awake, they shared memories. Agatha talked about the day Alma was born, the memory still so fresh in Agatha’s mind. Rio, who had an even better memory, described every detail, even the ones no one wanted to hear.

”Your Mama screamed so loud, which was not surprising because you had a huge head,” Rio said. “I remember seeing your head for the first time, coming out of her.”

”Gran, stopppp!” Jennifer whined. “I don’t want to picture that.”

”I could talk about the day you were born too,” Rio said. “Sawyer fully defecated—“

”Okay!” Sawyer clapped her hands. “Next topic.”

Alma laughed. “I knew that, I just never told you.”

”And we can still pretend I don’t know. Anyway…”

”You were a beautiful baby,” Alma said in a quiet voice, changing the subject while Sawyer turned bright red. “Happiest day of my life.”

Agatha felt Jennifer squeeze on her arm. She looked over and saw her granddaughter was chewing on her lower lip, her eyes watery.

”Close second is when I met and married you, Sawyer…”

Sawyer had moved to sit at Alma’s head, the two of them holding hands.

”And then when you were born, my Nico.”

Nico let out an audible cry and Agatha’s heart broke. She pulled him closer. Her sweet, giant grandson.

”The cutest baby I’ve ever seen, those cheeks.” Alma smiled wide. “I wanted to hold you all the time. And I did, as often as I could. My family is so important to me…”

With a sigh, Alma fell asleep. The rest of them tried to continue going down memory lane for a while, in case Alma could hear them. Sawyer went and made snacks and coffee. The rest of them ate, except for Agatha, who couldn’t stomach it. And Rio, who didn’t really eat.

They took turns sitting by Alma, but Agatha stayed the whole time. She only got up once to use the bathroom, afterwards immediately sitting by her daughter again. Rio made her drink some water, her hand on Agatha’s back as her wife sipped at the water.

”She’s holding on, but it’ll be soon,” Rio said. “I can feel the tether breaking. It will probably be several hours, you should get some sleep.”

Agatha shook her head. “You know I’m not going to do that.”

Rio nodded. “Of course.”

It was late, they all had made makeshift beds in the living room to sleep on the floor. Agatha promised to wake them up when Rio signified it was time. Agatha herself was tired, but sheer will kept her awake for a while.

She didn’t remember doing it but she must’ve rested her head beside Alma’s at some point and fell asleep, because a moment later, Rio was shaking her.

”My love, wake up, it’s time. She’s starting to go,” Rio said, her voice cracking. Judging by how wet and red her eyes were, Rio had been crying for an undetermined amount of time.

Agatha nodded, her body feeling numb and overheated.

They both woke everyone up. There wasn’t much to watch, since Alma was sleeping. Her breath sounded ragged and Agatha winced hearing it. She rested her hand on Alma’s forehead, her thumb stroking her brow, just as she did 88 years ago.

She vaguely heard her family saying things to Alma, but she was only focused on her daughter, whose breathing was becoming shallower and shallower.

Eventually, Alma stilled, and went silent. They all waited, listened.

There was nothing.

”I love you so much,” Agatha barely got out, her voice cracking. Tears ran down her face, her nose running. She sniffed.

Sawyer leaned over and kissed Alma on the forehead, looking equally torn apart. Jennifer kissed her next, still silently crying. Nico did the same but he was not hiding he was crying anymore.

Agatha looked up at Rio. Rio’s expression was blank, waiting for Agatha’s reaction. The only thing betraying what Rio was feeling was a slight quiver in her chin.

”Take her where she needs to go,” Agatha said after a moment, her voice struggling to get out.

”Of course, my love,” Rio said. With a little puff of green smoke, she disappeared.

Agatha flexed her hands, her body feeling wired and weird. She felt she should be crying more, but her fatigue was making it difficult to concentrate on anything. It was about 4am. Sawyer went and made more coffee. It was going to be a rough day.

”Oh, fuck, Nico, your graduation is later today!” Agatha said, suddenly remembering.

”Yeah,” he sniffed. “Maybe we shouldn’t go…”

”Fuck that! You’re valedictorian. You’re gonna do it for your grandmother. She’d kick your ass if she knew you were thinking about not going.”

Nico laughed. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Rio returned shortly. “Alma heard what you were talking about. Yes, she’d be pissed if you didn’t go, Nico.”

He nodded. “For Grandma Alma, then.”

They arranged to have Alma’s body cremated a couple days later, the funeral parlor coming to take her body. As a witch, Agatha would’ve preferred to do it in a more natural way, but it would probably be looked down upon to have a funeral pyre in her backyard. Whatever.

Nico’s speech at graduation was great. He added a dedication to Alma in there, despite it obviously being hard for him to mention her, since the loss was so fresh.

Agatha still hadn’t cried much.

They had an early, mostly quiet, dinner, as most of them were too tired and run down with grief to really converse. Which was fine, Agatha wasn’t in the mood to talk.

After everyone went to bed, she and Rio lay together, Agatha’s head on Rio’s chest. Rio was rubbing her back, trying to relax her enough to help her sleep.

”I miss her so much,” Agatha said. “I can’t believe… our little girl is gone.”

”She lived an amazing life, Agatha. A normal, human life.”

”It still fucking sucks.”

”I know. Like I said, it was never going to be enough time. But she was ready, even if you weren’t.”

”I was never going to be ready,” Agatha sighed. “I’d make her live forever if I could. But I guess only if she was healthy that whole time.”

Rio put her hand in Agatha’s hair, finding Agatha’s skull and scratching her scalp. It felt great and Agatha melted into the mattress.

“You know if there was a way, I’d do it. But only if Alma was okay with it. And she was at peace with her death. You’d be surprised at how many people are at peace with it. Sometimes they plead, especially after a freak accident, but older people or sick people, they’re ready. Bodies can be a burden, as you know, and sometimes… they’re just ready to let go. It’s natural.”

Agatha, despite causing so many deaths, hated death when it affected her, and her loved ones. And her loved ones were really only Nicky, and her current family. Jennifer was going to live a long time, but Nico also didn’t seem to have magic.

A wave of emotions hit Agatha suddenly, like her body was about to burst. Tears sprung from her eyes uncontrollably, spilling onto Rio. It started silently until Agatha released a gasping sob and found herself unable to stop.

She cried for a good amount of time, Rio’s hand never ceasing rubbing Agatha’s back. Agatha was never going to see her daughter again, at least in this physical world. Her beautiful little girl was gone. She sobbed harder, until her body ached.

Rio whispered “I know.” She whispered it repeatedly until it began to lull Agatha.

“Couldn’t be me, I died once, I’m not doing it again,” she mumbled.

Rio only said “I know,” again before Agatha fell asleep.

That night, Agatha dreamt of Nicky and Alma. The two were around the same age, playing together. Nicky in his 1700s era outfit, Alma in her more modern outfit. Agatha had somewhat forgot Nicky’s face over the years, but now, when she thought back to her dream, his face was as clear as ever. Almost like it was actually him.

The two had the same smile, Rio’s silly smile. They giggled together like they shared a secret Agatha would never know. She couldn’t hear them, she wasn’t even sure if they were actually saying anything. She was off to the side, watching them, never able to get closer than she was.

But they both looked happy. They held each others’ hands and walked off together into green smoke.

When she woke up the next morning, she had apparently been crying in her sleep because her eyes were wet and Rio was rubbing her back.

Alma was cremated, and Agatha had one place she wanted to spread her daughter’s ashes.

It wasn’t hard to find, because Rio knew exactly where to go. Like when Alma and Sawyer had their wedding, the Massasschusets woods looked different. Agatha would have no idea how to find it, but Rio did.

Nicky’s grave had changed, the rocks shifting after over 300 years, but once they found it, it all came back to Agatha.

She crouched by it, her hand running over one of the stones.

”Hi, sweet boy,” she said. “Sorry it’s been so long…”

Rio handed Agatha the carved, wood box containing Alma’s ashes.

”We brought your sister to keep you company,” she said. “Maybe you two are together in the afterlife. Maybe… one day, I’ll meet you there.”

Jennifer crouched beside Agatha. Not her granddaughter, Jennifer Kale. They didn’t talk much over the years beyond texting each other occasionally to complain about random things together, sometimes meeting each other for coffee.

Like Agatha, Jen hadn’t aged. She was hot, Agatha had to give her that, but she’d never voice that to Rio. Plus Jen seemed pretty happy with her wife, Diana.

“I’m around if you need to talk,” Jen said, not looking at Agatha.

“Are you getting sappy with me, Kale?”

“No, of course not, but I don’t want you completely losing it because you’re grieving.”

Jen nudged Agatha with her shoulder and Agatha could feel Rio’s presence behind them.

“Ah, so it’s not about me, it’s because you’re worried I’ll murder people or whatever.”

“Yes, I’d prefer you didn’t.”

Agatha laughed, and wiped her nose. “My murdering or not has nothing to do with you. But if you want to treat me to dinner sometime, I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Rio suddenly wedged herself in between them. “Are we going to dinner?”

“Jenny Kale wants to buy us dinner.”

“Aww,” Rio cooed. “I don’t eat but I can eat endless amounts when I want to so I hope you have a lot of money.”

Jen snorted. “Anyway, I’m sorry for your loss, both of you. Alma was a great daughter, a good person, and I’m honored to have brought her into the world.”

Agatha’s throat was starting to close up. She swallowed a few times.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she finally forced out. “You didn’t push her about your cunt.”

Jen smiled, genuinely. “You’re right. You did awesome that day, and I was honored to be there.”

Jen patted Agatha on the back before standing up.

They had a picnic by the grave. At nightfall, they had a simple ceremony before burying the box beside Nicky’s grave. They spent the night eating and drinking and talking. They laughed and cried.

After everyone went to bed, Agatha pulled her sleeping bag beside the graves. Despite not sleeping, Rio still brought her own sleeping bag. The two nestled in, staring up at the clear night sky. Clusters of stars filled the sky. When Nicky was little Agatha would tell him about the constellations and what she knew about astronomy at the time.

Just the two of them, in the dark Massachusetts woods, feeling like the only people for miles. The stars kept them company, but after Nicky died, they made her feel lonely.

She did the same with Alma, camping out in their own backyard, the stars barely visible in the light pollution filled sky of New Jersey. Alma would ask her question after question. Agatha knew the answers to both, but when she didn’t, they’d look it up.

“They both loved the stars,” Agatha murmured after a long silence. “Nicky and Alma.”

“They were inquisitive like their mama,” Rio said.

“And you. You learned how to be human.”

“Yes, but you’re something special, and Nicky and Alma carried that within them.” Rio wrapped her arm around Agatha’s shoulders. “I’ll think of them whenever I look at you. I’ll never forget them. Being their mother was the greatest honor of my long, long life.”

Agatha buried her face into Rio’s hair. She took in a shuddering breath.

“Mine too,” Agatha said.

She silently wept, rubbing tears and snot into Rio’s shoulder. Rio offered quiet comfort, as she always did. She fell asleep in the crook of Rio’s arm.

She studied up on grief, trying to understand her emotions. But they were random and very difficult to understand sometimes. Some days she was fine, others she wasn’t. There was no rhyme or rhythm, just hitting her out of nowhere. Other times she’d forget for a split second, like she’d want to call Alma to tell her something.

Happy moments made her sad sometimes because she hated that Alma wasn’t around to be a part of them. Like when Nico graduated from college with a double major in botany and environmental science.

Life moved on, but Agatha never did, she thought about Alma constantly just as she did with Nicky. But she didn’t let it consume her. She started teaching at a small witch school in North Jersey. She was distrustful of their mothers, but she wanted these kids to grow up proud of whatever their powers may be. She had yet to come across another siphon, but she was ready to take them under her wing if she ever did.

She eventually started her own school, naming it Alma Witch Academy. Both Jennifers became involved, as did Rio—Rio was merely a green witch to them, she never revealed she was Death. Billy popped in sometimes too, no longer an awkward teen. Now a somewhat awkward man. But a good man.

Despite not being a witch herself, Alma was always proud to be the daughter of witches. She rarely had a complex about, but had encouraged her mother to share her knowledge with other people.

Agath hated other people so she held off for a long time. And she certainly didn’t want to teach other witches.

But she found an innate need to teach and spread her knowledge was there, and was probably always there. She wished she had listened to her daughter sooner, but now that she had finally done it, she felt closer to Alma.

The school was named after Alma, and the main wing was named Nicholas Hall. It grew over the years, and she made sure it catered to witches who felt ostracized in some way. The outcasts, rejects. Ones who had been kicked out of their homes for various reasons.

It became a safe space, something Agatha never had. She could crack jokes that safe spaces were woke nonsense, but deep down it was something she had needed. She loved her weirdo witch students, not that she showed it.

But they knew.

They became like her children.

Not that they’d replace Nicky and Alma, but whenever she missed her biological children, she’d surround herself with her students. Fill them with all the knowledge she had, and hope she was making a world of badass witches, not the judgey assholes she knew.

Whenever she missed them desperately, she and Rio would return to their grave and gaze up at the night sky, looking for the constellations that Agatha once searched for with Nicky and Alma laying beside her. Two children separated by almost 300 years, but connected by the same night sky. She pretended their little hands were pointing up to where Agatha was pointing, tracking the stars. She pretended their little voices were whispering into her ear, or loudly squealing when they could see what she was seeing.

Perhaps one day she would be ready to join them in whatever the afterlife actually was, but for now, she was content living on this Earth and spreading her knowledge, and experiencing life for her children. With Death right by her side.

Actions

Kudos

Vauskell, Yuanjia22, Emilyareger042998, Potatogood87, Yomama12345, moonlitdreamsoul, VillainsLov3r, OnceUponACaskett, Elias101, beyondsushi, NightShadeBlaze, Rioshellhound, Maz1976, RushingRiver99, ayla_ro, pv2011, wrsckme, Eve2R, faggotyannnne, DistilledSilence, Canary44, azerty29, DreamMina05, Stupidthoughts202, EvilHagsz, hibee, kittykmonster, sheeriiiiiiii, scripted_delusion, Karebear587, jjhale98, saucyjackie, faj3k, zombie_girl_1693, Artemis1201, FiOreo, thursdaysisforgreys, DarlingVik, uhhuhdaggr, Romanoff_Hill, BippityBoppityBi, Daisy_mae1993, Afjordable, geronimowiig, mychellio, WhiskersInTheDark, earthlyanddivinee, woolsweater, jessiecsc1998, talgb6, and 45 more users as well as 3 guests left kudos on this work!

Comments

Sorry, this work doesn't allow non-Archive users to comment. You can however still leave Kudos!

Archive of Our Own

Actions

Work Header