Billy: What’s your type?
Agatha: YOUR MOM- I'm kidding.... eh not really
Billy, panicking: YOUR BLOOD TYPE
Agatha: B positive
Billy: I CAN’T BE POSITIVE WHEN YOU’RE BLEEDING OUT AND TRYING TO GET WITH MY MOM
I really don't like when Agathario fills up the Wagatha tag. Do they know they can tag it as a minor relationship so it won't get flagged as a main ship!? Even though its more niche I also feel this way about the WandaxAgathaxRio tag like idk. If Wanda is a five second relationship in your fic or is only used as a plot device in it you do not need to tag it like a main ship!
My first ever participation to Kinktober, y’all please be kind (but also don’t hesitate to tell me if you liked it or not 👀)
Day 1: Masturbation / WandaNat
Day 2: Coming Untouched /AgathaRio
Day 3: Threesome / Wagathario (a personal favourite 🤭)
Day 4: Voyeurism / AvaKateLena
Day 5: Finger sucking, Dacryphilia and to be honest semi-public sex / WandaNat
Day 6: Outdoor Sex / AgathaRio (with a sprinkle of Wagathario added in)
Day 7: Blindfolds, Blood Play/Kink, Knife Play/Kink / Wagathario
Day 8: Webcam Sex / ValCarol
Day 9: Exhibitionism / WandaNat (AgathaRio as spectators)
Day 10: Punishment / KateLena
Day 11: Somnophilia / WandaNat
Day 12: Kneeling / AgathaRio
Day 13: Dom bottom - Sub Top / WandaNat
Day 14: Omegaverse / WandaNat
Day 15: Semi public, sex pollen / Carol x fem!Reader
Day 16: Remote Control / Wagatha
Day 17: Service Kink / Wagathario
Day 18: Dom-Sub / Natasha x fem!Reader
Day 19: Sensory deprivation / Carol x fem!Reader
Day 20: Mirror sex / WandaNat (+Maria)
Day 21: Uniform kink / Maria Hill x fem!Reader
Day 22: Crawling / Wagathario
Day 23: Biting, Praise Kink / Wagathario
Day 24: Gags / WandaNat
Day 25: Impact Play / Agatha x fem!Reader
Day 26: Omegaverse / Wanda x fem!Reader
Day 27: Hair pulling / AgathaRio
Day 28: Overstimulation/ Rio x fem!Reader
Day 29: Body Worship / WandaNat
Day 30: Breeding, omegaverse / WandaNat
So far that’s what I’ve written, but please bear in mind that I’ve only started writing for this 4 days ago and I’m trying to catch up, so far I’m three days behind so I think I’m doing pretty good (will post the days already written when I’m home)
Update as of 20th of October : I wrote all the way through day 17, and I will post all of them…I will try to write the days I missed this afternoon, as I’m off of work in like an hour and fifteen minutes 🤭 (also will post everything when I have the time, I promise 👀)
Update as of 26th of October: Days until day 22 have been written, and this author has realized things about herself XD
Update as of 30th of October: All days until day 26 are written, I'm not sure I'll finish all the days before tomorrow night but I will finish them all
trickmas 2025, day eight, for @thiswildernessismyhome - (rated M for violence, language, drug use; agatha x wanda x rio)
it's supposed to make sense if you read it both forwards and backwards- but who knows if I succeeded. enjoy this take on what happens in vegas...
˖⁺‧₊˚✦
5:46 AM
Agatha’s dying.
She has to be. There’s clearly some sort of massive head injury at play here. She can see the light of the end behind her eyelids.
Something splashes. Has she already lost that much blood?
There’s a rough tapping on her shoulder. A peck, peck, peck.
Agatha opens her eyes and immediately regrets the decision.
She’s not dead. She just wishes she was.
For the first time in 187-ish years: she has a hangover.
That explains the head.
What it does not explain is the fact that she’s in a pool. And floating on something that’s approximately shaped like a pink flamingo.
She is also naked. That seems important.
She does not recognize this pool. Nor does she recognize the cockatiel on her arm that’s steadily gnawing at her shoulder, beady eyes glaring up at her.
Agatha ignores the bird, and kicks her legs under her in the water, just to check if they’re still there.
The answer is yes, but god, at what cost. She cringes, every part of her aches under the already brilliant (and offensively pink) dawn light, and she continues her inventory. The left side of her ass is killing her. (Did she let Rio get a little too carried away with the dagger again?) Her hair is a nightmare of matted chlorine. This fucking bird won’t catch the hint that she can do nothing for it.
Agatha shakes her arm, with purpose- and the bird squawks, nearly falling into the cloudy water before fluttering back to the stucco, ranch-style house this yard must belong to- it slams into the crystalline clear back doors, and drops to the patio unmoving.
Probably just stunned.
Probably.
That’s not her problem.
Ignoring her dry mouth that somehow also tastes of lemon, and protesting neck, Agatha peers around, squinting, searching for clues about how the fuck she got here.
No sudden movements. She’s not sure she won’t tip over.
Someone must have had a hell of a party.
There’s liquor bottles, confetti, a shopping cart, and the flamingo float in the pool with her. Around the edges, leftovers of a hard day’s night- various items of clothing, sequins, feathers, glitter, heels. Further afield, strewn over the painted concrete and tasteful rock landscaping- even more liquor bottles, cigarette butts, and yep, there’s still a half-line of coke on one of the glass patio tables, left unsnorted.
Agatha looks down. She is indeed 100% naked.
Fantastic.
She sniffs the air. Dry. Dusty. Desert.
Vegas?
There’s a blurry memory of laughter, lights, slots, Rio pouring champagne into Wanda’s mouth-
Shit. Agatha flails, and with one high pitched yelp, loses her balance, and splashes face first into the pool.
She surfaces with a gasp, her hangover temporarily driven back by the shock of cold. Doggie paddling to the stairs, she stumbles up and out, naked as the day she was unfortunately born.
Rio. Wanda. Both of them are unsupervised and possibly still intoxicated.
Which for Rio, should be impossible.
What the fuck happened last night?
She passes the bird, raising an eyebrow.
Its chest is still moving. Hooray.
Agatha slides open the backdoor, and steps into the chill of the air conditioning, blinking at the sudden change in light.
The modernist living room didn’t fare any better than the backyard did- there’s trash, booze, drugs, clothes, and passed out people on every flat surface.
Women, to be more specific.
Agatha raises her other eyebrow. The girls look like models.
She looks again. Well. With the glitter and those ass muscles- these are definitely strippers.
Then she spots even more feathers, and reassesses once more: not strippers, these are full blown showgirls.
Fantastic. Counting the number of girls in here, it looks like they had made off with most of the complement of dancers from one of the revues- maybe Caesar’s Palace.
(Ugh, Rio had better not be back in her Cleopatra get-up when Agatha inevitably tracks her down.)
For a second, Agatha considers going back outside and murdering that bird as the fastest way to locate Lady Death, but dismisses the idea.
It’s not the bird’s fault she’s suffering the hangover from fucking hell.
That unfortunate culprit is still at large- but when Agatha finds her, she’s going to make her pay in blood.
(Surely this is either Wanda’s or Rio’s fault. Or more likely, some combination of the two.)
The dozen-ish girls are all still passed out at this early hour, though one or two stir as Agatha stomps forward, dripping on the tile.
Chilled, she reaches out with her magic and flicks her wrist, summoning her dressing gown.
Instead of her silken, expensive robe- there’s suddenly a cheap pastel collision of printed cotton in her hand.
Wonderful. Her magic is still drunk.
She slips it on, cringing at the rough material, trying to sense the edges of her own power; it lurches inside her, like it’s just as hungover as she is.
Interesting. Whatever got her hammered must have magical in origin, if her powers are still this impacted.
Her stomach roils, and she stumbles across the minimalist living room strewn with passed out showgirls, into the fancy open concept kitchen- where she promptly throws up into what must be a very expensive sink.
After a few long, humiliating moments, Agatha pulls her head out of the sink, panting, and tucks her hair behind her ears- before rinsing her mouth out with a handful of water from the tap.
The lemon taste lingers.
She tilts her head to the left. There’s a piece of paper on the counter.
She squints, and the text on the page resolves, the important words jumping out as she skims.
Marriage license.
Rio Vidal.
Wanda Maximoff.
And scratched into the witness space- Agatha Harkness.
Wanda’s signature is in dark scarlet ink and Cyrillic letters, while Rio’s is in a black, and what Agatha’s aching head recognizes as Linear B.
So, that’s really it then. Her two… whatevers.
Probably got sick of Agatha’s reluctance to qualify whatever was happening between all three of them, and decided to take matters into their own hands.
Good for them.
Agatha wouldn’t want to marry herself either.
Rio clearly had enough the first time around, and Wanda didn’t want to bet on a losing horse.
That was fine.
Rio. Wanda.
The fucking bird.
“Shit. Fuck me.” Agatha gasps, and straightening up, rushes back outside, kneeling next to the cockatiel on the hard concrete.
“Son of a-“ Agatha growls as she ignites her hands, but before she can shock the little feathery menace, the bird opens her eyes and screeches bloody murder.
Agatha jumps back, landing on her sore ass, screaming- as the bird starts to shimmer scarlet, and jerkily shifts, getting bigger and bigger; until it resolves back into Wanda’s familiar body, dressed in a sequined body suit like a showgirl’s, her hair a bird's nest, and spitting out feathers.
“Good morning, Mrs. Death.” Wanda croaks once she's cleared her throat, and looks over at Agatha blearily, her eyes red. “What- what happened?”
4:03 AM
“Oh my gooooood.” Wanda giggles, kicking off her heels. “Oh my god, Agatha, have you ever done coke? You have to try the coke.”
“Sweetheart, I was around when they were still putting it in Coca-Cola.” Agatha laughs, as Wanda leans over in her lap, a hundred dollar bill tightly rolled between her fingers, as she makes another pass at her half-snorted line on the table.
Agatha, being generous of spirit, takes it from her, and finishes the line. Shit, that’s the good stuff; benefits of buying direct.
“I feel so fluttery.” Wanda coos. “My heart is going sooooooo fast.” She hiccups, as something splashes into the pool behind them- the music from the house blaring.
Wanda hiccups again. Feathers start to sprout out of her ears.
“Shit.” Agatha laughs.
“Shit.” Wanda giggles.
6:02 AM
“We should probably tell Junior to lay off the nose candy, in case he gets the opportunity.” Agatha drawls, her voice hoarse.
“What?” Wanda rasps, confused.
“Do you want to have to go retrieve a fucking flamingo from a club, if Little Mister Reality Warper decides to experiment with illicit substances?” Agatha demands, blowing the hair out of her face with a huff. “Because that will definitely be someone on this patio’s problem.”
“Could you please start making sense?”
“You very clearly had some sort of, I don’t know, avian reaction to the slopes you were skiing last night, dear.” Agatha drawls, trying to sit up. “Not to mention, the memory issues.” Agatha steams forward, ripping the bandaid off. “I didn’t marry Rio, sweetheart. You did.”
“Wait, no, I didn’t.” Wanda sits up, folding her arms. “You did.”
“No I didn’t.”
“Yes, you fucking did.” Wanda juts out her chin, looking surprisingly steady for someone who must be as hungover as she is. “I have the paper, right here.”
Wanda reaches into her sparkly bustier, and pulls out- a marriage license.
Agatha Harkness, in violet.
Rio Vidal, in spiky black.
Witness: Wanda Maximoff.
“What the fuck-“ Agatha pinches her nose. “Where the fuck is Rio?”
3:27 AM
“I’ll be back.” Rio says with a laugh, leaning forward to press a deep kiss to Agatha’s lips, before turning her head to plant one on Wanda too. The bass is thumping, and the lights are flashing to the music- this fucking house has way too many bells and whistles.
The sound of motorcycles revving out in the front drive does not instill Agatha with much confidence. “Where are you going?” Agatha barks.
“The guys have another problem for me to take care of. I won’t be long.” Rio grins. “Why, you gonna miss me?”
“I will.” Wanda says, her red lipstick bright and smeared.
“I won’t.” Agatha huffs, but it’s undercut as someone else in the living room pops a bottle of champagne, and starts to spray it over them. Agatha sputters, but when she blinks her eyes clear, Rio is gone, and there’s a mess of showgirl and glitter in her lap.
Giggling, she drags the girl up, her concerns forgotten. “Let’s dance!”
6:10 AM
Wanda and Agatha have decided to re-group in the kitchen, while the showgirls in the living room are really waking up now- looking just as hungover as Agatha feels. It’s a massacre of feathers and eyeliner.
Wanda raises a hand- presumably to shift herself out of her own showgirl outfit- but Agatha catches her by the wrist. “Do not. My magic was still drunk, and who the hell knows what yours is. And I’m not catching you if you turn into a butterfly.”
“That’s so specific.” Wanda murmurs, but puts her hand down. “Do you think if we asked them-” She tilts her head at any of the dancers, but there’s a rumbling sound in the distance that gets louder and louder, cutting Wanda’s line of thought off.
Meanwhile, the showgirls have gathered up and are filling quickly out the door. “Great party!” One of them calls over to the witches, who are both leaning on the marble counters for support, emotional and otherwise. “Come see us again!” The dancer giggles, as the rumbling outside rises to a dull roar, and she exits the house.
“Wait a sec-” Agatha calls, but she’s already gone. Huffing, Agatha storms after her, and flings the front door open, pausing in the shaded entryway as Wanda catches up, poking her head around Agatha’s shoulder.
“Huh.” Agatha hums, darkly amused. “Well, that would explain the blow.”
Beside the rock and cactus hardscaping of the front yard, the driveway and street are filled with bikers- who are revving their engines, and helping the tattered showgirls onto the back of their motorcycles. Agatha catches just a glimpse of their patches- Dogs of Hell MC, Nevada Chapter- before most of them ride off, leaving just one chopper and rider in the driveway.
Rio Vidal kills the engine and slinks off the motorcycle, crossing up the sidewalk with a smirk as she takes off her sunglasses. She’s wearing the leather cutoff vest of the club, with a very shiny new name tag sewn on it; under this, there’s what looks like a variation on her outfit from the Fire Trial on the Road- a lace and sequined jumpsuit.
“Morning, newlyweds.” Rio drawls. “The guys agreed to do me a favor and take the girls home.” Rio grins darkly. “How’s the honeymoon so far? Just killer?” She giggles maniacally.
Across the street, Agatha sees the window blinds twitch, and she groans. “Inside. Before someone calls the cops.”
The three of them troop back into the relative coolness of the destroyed living room- Rio looking up with a whistle at what appears to be three different bras on the ceiling fan. “Some party, huh? I’ve never experienced anything like that before; my head was actually killing me before I fixed it.”
Agatha’s annoyance is mounting. “Why the fuck does Wanda think we got re-married last night?” She spits out, losing her patience.
That does make Rio freeze in her tracks. “Sweetheart, I don’t know what you remember-”
“Nothing. That’s the problem.” Wanda folds her arms.
“But we didn’t get married last night. You two did.” Rio points to the pair of them. “I don’t remember much, but it says so, right here.”
To Agatha’s infinite irritation, Rio pulls out yet another marriage license.
Signatories:
Agatha Harkness and Wanda Maximoff.
Witness: Rio Vidal.
Agatha massages her temples, and decides to deal with the more immediate problem. “Okay. Fine. But first, why were you out with a biker gang?” She barks up at an irritatingly tall Rio, in her boots.
“We owed them one- after last night.” Rio shrugs. “So I went back to their club’s base of operations and resolved a few corpses for them." She frowns.
“Why exactly did we owe them?” Wanda squints, trying to remember.
“Well-”
2:07 AM
“Go, go, go!” Agatha yells, sprinting as best she can in the heavy silver and black dress- Rio to her left, and Wanda laughing on her right. The dancers are laughing too, a breathless adrenaline-filled burst, as they tear through the casino floor in a maelstrom of feathers and glitter, beelining for the valet exit, upending cocktail waitresses and late-night slot fiends in their wake.
The Dogs of Hell are parked right outside, at least 20 strong, revving their engines, displacing angry valet and Uber drivers alike. Cackling madly, Agatha swings on the back of the Road Captain’s bike, her dress tearing and silver sequins flying. “Hit it!” She hollers, as Rio and Wanda both find their own bikers, and hang on- Wanda screaming with laughter while Rio whoops.
The showgirls too each grab a rider- some two to a motorcycle- and the gang is off like a shot, weaving through the Strip’s traffic- that’s still bumper to bumper even at almost two in the morning.
They’re nearly clear- after whipping past the Bellagio and heading for the Freeway- when the sound of their pursuers catches up to them. Red and blue lights flash, sirens screaming; Agatha looks over at Rio, who nods, then at Wanda, whose hand is already glittering red- but before Agatha can even formulate a plan, the bikers, clearly relying on their own radio comms, scatter.
Riders with showgirls on the back turn off in every direction- left, right, straight ahead, u-turning, the girls laughing and whooping, while the cops try to follow, in hot pursuit, peeling off one by one, until there’s no one left chasing the leaders of the pack. Smooth as silk, Wanda, Rio, and Agatha’s bikers escape onto the Freeway, clean and easy, riding fast back to North Vegas.
There’s already a few bikers and showgirls back at the house when they rumble up, with more arriving behind them, laughing and cheering.
Agatha gracefully vaults off the bitch seat of the Road Captain’s bike. “Hey Rooster!”
Rooster parks, and looks at her with a healthy trace of fear- the kind Agatha likes to see in a man. “Yeah, witch?”
“You guys holding?” Agatha grins at him, and reaches inside her neckline, pulling out her thick stack of ill-gotten gains.
Rooster, still looking nervous, smiles slightly back. “Why, lady, I believe we are.”
“Excellent.” Agatha turns to the crew, and waves her money in the air. “Bring your shit inside! We’re celebrating!”
The bikers and showgirls whoop, adrenaline and everything else still fueling them- as Agatha hands over her wad of cash to Rooster, then collects a staggering Rio and unsteady Wanda, pulling them back inside the dark and empty house; the party already starting behind them.
6:29 AM
“Well, at least I paid for the blow.” Agatha folds her arms in her awful robe. “That was big of me.”
“Well you had to launder that shit somehow.” Rio huffs. “If you’ll recall, you’re why the cops were after us in the first place.”
“Um, no, I don’t recall, that’s why we’re having this fun little debrief.” Agatha huffs.
“Wait, hang on a second, you guys, look at this-” Wanda gestures over to them. She’s got all their marriage certificates lined up next to each other. “These are all marked for the exact same time.”
Agatha peers over her shoulder, and finds she’s right- each is stated to have happened at 10:13 pm, the night before.
“Well, that way no one’s is more valid than the other’s.” Rio hums reasonably, playing with the fraying edge of her vest.
Distracted by the twitching (and not wanting to acknowledge that it appears she got permanently attached to not one, but two witches last night (one of them a repeat, to boot)), Agatha blurts, “How the fuck did you even get a cut?” Gesturing at Rio’s leather cut-off vest. “Everyone’s rules are no bitches.”
Wanda shoots her a side eye. “And you know this-”
“Because she tried to join a biker gang.” Rio says serenely. “In the 90s.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.” Wanda sighs.
“They decided to make an exception for me.” Rio flashes her true face for a moment. “Rooster thought it was better to have me onside.”
“Unbelievable.” Agatha mutters, while Rio grins.
“It’s okay, I’ll let you ride bitch on my new chopper.” Rio drawls.
Agatha sees red, and nearly lunges for her maybe not ex-wife, but Wanda holds up a hand, pausing the imminent violence.
“As much as I normally enjoy your foreplay, hang on.” Wanda frowns, closing her eyes, listening.
Agatha tilts her head, and hears it too- the sound of Wanda’s ringtone.
Wanda gestures, and her cellphone floats into the kitchen from somewhere else in the house- covered in what appears to be nacho cheese.
Wanda groans, and answers the phone, while trying to clean it with a nearby half-used paper towel; Agatha can hear the frantic sounds of Teen on the other end of the line, babbling about something as Wanda tries to calm him down. “Hello? Yes, we’re alive- Billy we’re fine. What do you mean, check what you sent me? Yes, I’ll promise, I’ll text you back. Okay, bye honey, see you soon.”
Wanda looks down at the phone, and gasps, her free hand covering her mouth.
Rio quirks an eyebrow. “That bad?”
“Um.” Wanda says, and lays the phone down on the counter so they can both see.
“Oh, fuck me with a chainsaw.” Agatha groans, looking down at a paused video of her own face holding a microphone.
Wanda presses play.
12:52 AM
“So do we have a plan?” The rack of feathers and leotards that Wanda is currently crouching behind seems to ask. “Or are we just hiding out backstage until they get tired of looking for us?”
Agatha tries not to giggle from behind her own rack, her head spinning at the hilarious mental image. “What, you don’t like this plan?”
“You get to see naked women. You’d obviously love this plan.” Rio murmurs from where she’s hiding behind a large mirror. “Seriously, how did you not know that you still have active warrants?”
“They were from the 80s!” Agatha protests. “Isn’t there like a statue of limitations?”
“Not when you specifically piss off the Mafia, honey.” Wanda huffs. “I don’t think vendetta expires.”
“Excuse a girl for trying to make a living.” Agatha sniffs, highly offended.
“Cheating at cards and seducing women attached to made men is not a living.” Rio rolls her eyes. “It’s asking for trouble.”
“Trouble? Who? Me?” Agatha grins, and pops her head up from behind her rack- as she looks around the dressing room they’re currently squirreled up in, trying to think.
Both Wanda and Rio start to reply, but Agatha shuts them up with a hand, pointing to the wall, as the thunderous roar of the crowd outside in the Colosseum applauds- they’re running out of time, before whoever this empty little dressing room belongs to comes back.
Agatha looks down at the makeup counter, her eyes lighting up as she spots a setlist for the show- Broadway Divas: Live and in Concert, for One Night Only!
Then the door to the dressing room swings open and snaps shut, as someone grumbles, “Who the fuck are you-”
Agatha turns to face her, as at the same time, the irate woman collapses to the floor- while a sheepish Rio stands behind her, clearly having just beamed her with a Tony award.
“Does she just have that in here?” Agatha blinks at Rio, who shrugs.
“I got it from her bag.”
“Why does she look like Lilia?” Wanda wonders, chewing her lip.
“Never mind that, let’s hide her.” Agatha orders, rolling up her sleeves, and glancing around the dressing room, cracking a wide grin. “I have an idea; after all, the show must go on.”
“Why was I afraid you’d say that?” Wanda groans.
(1:25 AM)
It wasn’t a bad bit of work, if Agatha said so herself.
In a tight fifteen, Agatha had figured out who the unconscious singer was, picked something off the setlist, and zapped herself a costume (plus stage makeup)- something from the silent film age, silver and flowy. Meanwhile, Wanda had worked her magic, enchanting the showgirls and stage crew not to notice the substitution, as Rio tucked the downed diva in on a small couch, ensured she’d recover from her injury, and used her phone to text their exit strategy.
Wanda, in a top hat and red rhinestone bustier, appeared at Agatha’s elbow, while Rio winked at them from the wings, across the stage in a black lace and glitter number.
While the MC announced the substitution to the groans of the crowd, Agatha steps forward, crossing to center stage and grinning out at the massive audience in the amphitheater. “Come now, I know you gays- I mean, you guys- were here to see this Patti Lupone. But at least give little ol’ me a shot!”
The audience gives scattered laughs, and Agatha decides that’s good enough. She cues the band, and launches into the first bars of Anything Goes.
(6:35 AM
“It’s already got like fifty thousand views on TikTok.” Wanda groans.
“Well, are the reviews good?” Agatha asks, always keen to play to the audience.
“Unfortunately.” Wanda grumbles. “The comments are mostly wondering how you’ve gotten to middle-age and not yet been on Broadway.”
“I don’t think we would survive her ego if she was.” Rio intones solemnly.
“Or the number of outraged witches searching for revenge.” Wanda points out.
“Please don’t give her ideas.” Rio groans.)
(1:58 AM)
Agatha struts off stage, basking in the applause, as Rio catches her around the waist and subtly grabs her ass.
“Ouch honey.” Agatha reminds her with a giggle. “Still hurts, remember?”
The crew swarms, resetting for the finale number, a whole new set of dancers about to take the stage- but there’s a commotion from one of the backdoors, as a number of suited men start to muscle their way in, peering around, their hands tucked into their jackets; obviously resting on hidden guns.
“Time to go.” Agatha sing-songs. She looks around at the showgirls getting ready to take off their makeup. “Hey girls.”
They look up at her, like a flock of startled birds, as Wanda hurries to her side.
Agatha grins. “Want to go to a killer afterparty with us? Only thing is: we gotta run for it. But I promise, all the booze and blow you can stand.”
Some of them hesitate, but most of them don’t, giggling and standing back up.
“Oh, and ladies? It’s a race. Last one to the exit gets left behind.” Agatha cackles, and she’s off like a shot, running for the other backdoor- Rio and Wanda hot on her heels, and the showgirls in a train behind.
6:40 AM
“Do you have any of that money left?” Wanda asks, looking around. “And what happened to your dress?”
“No, and most of it didn’t survive that bike ride. The rest of it fell off dancing.” Agatha smirks.
Rio rolls her eyes. “Dancing, she says.”
“I’m a lawfully married woman.” Agatha holds up a hand in mock affront. “How dare you think something untoward might have happened between me and about twenty showgirls?”
“I mean, since you’re married to both of us, I think that’s unlawfully.” Wanda points out. “And I hate to break it to you Casanova, but you were so crossfaded last night, you could barely kiss me, let alone handle a dozen much younger women.”
“Oh please, if I could still count cards-” Agatha breaks off, suddenly remembering what her warrants were for. “Oh, shit. Riiiiight.”
11:40 PM
Agatha is on fire tonight- her crisp, oversized, black suit plunging down to reveal her smooth skin, with nothing underneath her blazer; while her trousers fit her perfectly, her red bottom heels high, and her brooch pinned to her lapel. (The tight fit of her pants was actually an issue, but she’s still so buzzed, she’s feeling no pain.)
They’re celebrating at Caesar’s- the last of the classic hotels still standing on the ever changing Vegas Strip, the Grand Dame of them all. Agatha’s not been here in decades, and she’s living it up; ordering champagne, cackling loudly, and kissing Rio- dressed in a sinful wrap dress that exposes her ribs- or Wanda- in a sparkly black dress with a plunging back- in turn.
Swiftly, Agatha sharks her way up to the high rolling tables; blackjack’s always been her game, and she’s always been good at it. Contrary to popular belief, Agatha doesn’t use magic to cheat- instead, she counts cards, using her own system she devised when blackjack first became popular in the 30s, and she’s stuck with it ever since.
It’s not her fault, she’s good at this. Or that she very quickly racks up a hundred thousand in winnings- what can she say, she’s drunk, and she’s not paying close attention to being subtle.
(And maybe she’s showing off, just a little bit. Got to make sure the very pretty cosmic forces stay interested in her, after all.)
It’s also really not her fault she’s not keeping tabs on the amount of money; Wanda and Rio keep taking her chips and cashing them out, slipping the bills into Agatha’s blazer pockets.
Which is to say, when hotel security shows up at their latest table, Agatha’s caught a little flatfooted. But only for a second.
“Gentlemen, is that George Clooney over there?” Agatha points behind them, in a sudden conversational non sequitur (away from nasty topics such as “How are you doing this?” and “Were you here in 1987?” and “Are you aware you’re banned from this casino under penalty of law?”) - as Wanda twitches her fingers and an illusion blooms a few yards away.
It’s enough of a distraction for the three of them to duck and run, sprinting away into the demimonde of lights and the sounds of slot machines ringing and chirping- ducking into a door marked staff only and fleeing into the backstage maze of the Colosseum, the in-house amphitheater, until they came to hide in an unmarked dressing room, clearly reserved for a guest star.
6:52 AM
“If I had to remember everywhere I had active warrants, I’d never leave the house.” Agatha waves a hand. “Counting cards isn’t even illegal, the casinos just hate it.”
“Trespassing after you’ve been banned is.” Rio points out with a sigh, and looks down at the marriage licenses arrayed in front of them. “So-”
“We could burn them?” Agatha suggests.
Both Rio and Wanda look at her, highly affronted. Wanda nudges her with a hip, clipping Agatha’s ass.
“Ouch.” Agatha hisses. “What the fuck, did one of you stab me?” She lifts up the side of her robe, letting the other two see.
“Oh my god.” Wanda giggles, covering her mouth with her hands.
“That’s fucking incredible.” Rio whistles. “How had you never gotten that before?”
10:38 PM
“You lost, Agatha.” Rio giggles maniacally. “The terms of the bet were super clear. You said never again, and you did it again. And again.”
Agatha looks over at Wanda for help, but she folds her arms. “You can’t start out this way, cheating Rio immediately.”
“But I didn’t think we were serious-” Agatha protests.
“No buts.” Wanda says firmly.
“Well, one butt.” Rio laughs.
“I fucking hate you both.” Agatha grumbles.
“Are you ladies ready?” The nervous looking kid asks.
“Sure thing, random Teen.” Agatha grits her teeth. “Light me up.”
She drops her pants.
7:01 AM
“The Playboy bunny?!” Agatha howls in outrage. “Really?!” She pulls her robe back down and resists the urge to claw at something.
“For a century before you blast it off, Agatha.” Rio nods serenely.
“It’s perfect.” Wanda says, her eyes shining with mirth. “It’s a promiscuous rabbit. They might as well have modeled it after you.”
Rio grins. “And now you have the tattoo to prove it.”
“I’ll have the fucking hepatitis to prove it.” Agatha snarls at them.
“Like Jen would let that happen.” Rio waves a hand. “You’re just a sore loser. Literally.”
“The bet was for if I’d ever get re-married!” Agatha snaps. “And one of the people I apparently re-married last night was you! That's got to be some sort of violation of the terms!”
“Yeah, how did we do that? All of us getting married at once?” Wanda asks, distracted and frowning.
10:13 PM
“You know, typically couples aren’t in costumes-”
“This isn’t a costume.” Rio gestures impatiently at her skull face and crown.
“Yeah, and neither is this.” Wanda frowns at the officiant, wrinkling her nose at the insult to her own crown.
“She’s an icon. I’m an icon. That’s an icon.” Rio gestures up to the Welcome to Las Vegas sign. “Now marry us.”
“Well, who is that?”
“I’m the god damned flower girl.” Agatha drawls, swaying in place. “Now chop chop, I’m getting married tonight too, and I fucking hate a wedding.
Rio’s skull face can’t grin any further, but a bouquet of black roses and violets blooms in Agatha’s hand.
10:13 PM
“You were such a nice boy.” Rio pats the face of the Elvis who’s standing at the front of the chapel. “I know people were upset, but you didn’t regret going, did you?”
“Honey, not the real one.” Agatha whispers, as the Elvis impersonator looks over at her with some alarm.
“It’s the thought that counts.” Rio pouts.
“Should we ask his ghost?” Wanda wonders from where she’s sprawled in the pew below them.
“Ladies, this is not-” The Elvis says shakily, but Agatha cuts him off.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, a little less conversation, a little more action, we get it.” Agatha drawls, a black rose pinned under her brooch. “Just do it already.” She mumbles, bracing herself.
10:13 PM
“Do you think we have to return the car?” Wanda asks cheerfully, violets in her hair.
“I’d say probably.” Agatha retorts from the driver’s seat of the 1952 Cadillac convertible that they’re inching forward in, on a fixed track. “Wouldn’t want to deprive the other happy couples of the romance.” She sneers.
“Oh shut up.” Rio says from where she’s lounging in the backseat. “If you really didn’t want to be here, Agatha Harkness, you’d have poofed away.” She tries to snap her fingers but can’t quite manage it. “So quit bitching, and marry this nice girl that we’ve somehow tricked into liking us.”
“Not so nice.” Wanda mumbles, but she’s cut off as they pull up to the drive-through window, and Agatha hands the license over to the officiant.
7:10 AM
“You’re a reality warper, she’s a cosmic horror, I’m Agatha fucking Harkness. I’m sure we figured something out.” Agatha shrugs, blase and still put-out over her new body art. “We probably just rewound time. Twice.”
Rio cringes. “My brother isn’t going to be happy.”
“Your brother can suck it.” Agatha rolls her eyes. “Aren’t you in a biker gang now? Tough guy?”
“Are they gonna come back?” Wanda asks more seriously. “Is this like- their house?”
“I don’t think so.” Agatha frowns, remembering something, and turns, walking out of the kitchen, and down the hall. She pops open a closed door, revealing an empty bedroom- and a telltale spray of blood. “Yeah, Red, I don’t think the homeowner is coming back.”
Rio comes around to look and sighs, rubbing her eyes for a moment. “Well, that explains how the gang knew I could solve a disposal issue.”
9:08 PM
The portal opens and they tumble out onto the pool deck, one by one. Agatha sits up in time to look through the windows of the house, and see a man tied to a chair suddenly slump- a spray of blood painting the wall behind him.
Rio groans, and her form flickers for a moment, before stabilizing. “Is this Vegas?”
Agatha clamors up and turns around, looking for lights- and seeing them in the distance. “Sure is. Nice work Gingersnap, we’re pretty close.”
Wanda grumbles, staggering to her own feet. “Of course we’re at the scene of a murder, where else would we be-” but her grousing is cut off as the backdoor is wretched open, and six different Dogs of Hell pour out of the house, their guns all trained on them.
The one in the back, with a patch that says Road Captain, tilts his head, curiously. “Now, you ladies certainly weren’t here a few minutes ago.”
Agatha puts a hand on her hip. “We sure as shit weren’t.”
“Well, it pains me to say it, but you’ve seen an unfortunate piece of our club’s business here- taking care of a snitch.” He sighs. “And we can’t leave loose ends.” He cocks his pistol.
“Horrible idea.” Agatha sniffs, completely unbothered, even as she senses Wanda hackling. “Short sighted, really.”
“How so?” The man looks surprised.
“Well, for starters-” Agatha raises an eyebrow at Rio, who immediately flickers into her Death’s face. “Trying to snuff her is an exercise in futility.”
Fear is painted across the man’s face- but it’s not of the unknown, but of the familiar. “You are magic.” He says firmly, pointing his gun directly at Agatha. “We’ve dealt with magic before.”
“And I can tell you got your ass handed to you.” Agatha drawls. The world is swimming slightly before her, but she can do this; Wanda’s entire mood will be soured if they have to murder all these idiots. “So, here, why don’t we cut a deal instead?”
The man’s cut says Rooster on the name placard. “I’m listening.”
“We’ll take care of your little problem in there, completely. Nothing nasty to come back and bite, or give evidence to the authorities. In return-” Agatha grins. “You give us a ride, down to the Strip.”
Rooster slowly lowers his gun. “How do I know I can trust you?”
“You can’t.” Wanda says softly. “But if we wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.”
Rooster’s face is inscrutable for a moment, but he finally waves his men off. “Fine. We have a deal.”
Rio snickers, and flicks her fingers- the body through the window starts to decompose, faster and faster; a cacophony of mold and fungi, rot in fast forward. Rooster and his crew don’t say anything, just staring in horror; though a few of them turn a little green around the edges.
The bones are the last things to fall to dust; then the body is gone.
“And our brooms are in the shop.” Agatha drawls. “So, it’s time to hold up your end of the bargain. Take us to the Strip.
7:17 AM
Agatha and Rio make their way back to the kitchen, leaving the murder scene behind and finding Wanda still pouring over their marriage licenses.
“We got married.” Wanda says dreamily. “All of us, together.
“Yeah, and I can bet on whose dumb idea that was.” Agatha chuckles.
8:43 PM
“We should get married.” Agatha slurs, rolling on the floor.
“We were married.” Rio replies, her eyes dilated and watching the ceiling fan in their living room like she’d never seen it before. “You un-wifed me. I was there. I saw it. So not married.”
“I want to be married for real.” Wanda pouts. “Not married for fake.”
Agatha sits straight up, a terrible, wonderful idea occurring to her. “You know where lets you get married fast? Vegas!”
“But we can’t all get married.” Wanda points out, her red hair hanging over the couch. “Isn’t that illegal? It’s like…” She flaps her hand. “Sodomy.”
Rio snickers. “Sweetheart, sodomy is what we did last night. You’re thinking of bigamy.”
“Whatever. The point is, we can’t get married.” Wanda pouts, but Agatha’s already thinking it through.
“I mean, it’s not like we’re filling taxes together.” Agatha taps her lips. “You’re a concept, you’re a terrorist, and I don’t pay them on principle.”
“So?” Rio wrinkles her nose.
“So, what if we were all married at once, so the state couldn’t tell us which one counted?” Agatha grins, excited at the prospect of sticking it to the man once again.
“That’s so stupid. You’re so pretty.” Wanda giggles.
Rio raises a hand.
“Yes, Rio?” Agatha asks patiently, drumming her fingers.
“How are we getting to Vegas?”
“Oh, I can do that.” Wanda says cheerfully, and before anyone can move, a portal sparks beneath them.
7:20 AM
Wanda sighs, cracking her neck. “We did use a lot of magic last night- can’t you feel it?”
Rio nods. “It’s why we’re so tired?” She phrases it as a question, looking over at Agatha.
“Oh, there’s that, but we were also definitely hammered. Smashed. Wasted. Three sheets to the wind.” Agatha twirls some of her matted hair around a finger.
“But I can’t get drunk?” Rio says, puzzled.
“No, but-” Agatha’s head throbs, a persistent aftertaste of lemon in her mouth. “Jen.” She growls.
“Jen?” Wanda raises an eyebrow, then blanches. “Jen!”
“Jen.” Rio says slowly and Agatha can see she’s putting the pieces together, all at once.
8:29 PM
“Now, are you guys sure you want to try this?” Jen asks slowly. “I had to do some really weird shit to make this effective- there’s probably enough sedatives in one of these vials to take down a bull elephant.”
“Rio’s never been drunk.” Agatha says serenely. “It’s our sworn duty to help her experience this rite of passage as a being.”
“We’ve been under a lot of stress Jen.” Wanda nods. “We need this. I’m sure you did a great job.”
“Right.” Jen looks at them each, and sighs. “Well, I’m getting clear of the blast zone. Good luck.” She gives a two fingered salute, and vanishes in a poof of pink glitter.
“Chickenshit.” Agatha grumbles, and turns around to Rio downing the entire vial. “Wait-”
“What?” Rio asks. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it.”
“She’s got a point.” Wanda says, as she gulps down her own vial.
“Far be it from me to be the voice of reason.” Agatha sighs, and shoots her own lemon flavor vial in one shot.
They all look at each other.
“I don’t think it’s working.” Rio says with a frown. “I’m not feeling anything.”
7:24 AM
“She literally just did what we asked.” Wanda folds her arms. “You can’t threaten her.”
Agatha groans. “But-”
“I was drunk.” Rio grins happily. “I was drunk, and we did drunk people things.”
“We did a lot of drunk people things, all at once.” Agatha points out.
“Do you regret it?” Wanda asks, her voice suddenly serious.
Agatha hesitates, thinking about the entire mess of their night.
And gets stuck, as she remembers what she’d been feeling when she’d suggested getting married in the first place.
(Happy.)
“Do I regret becoming a viral sensation?” Agatha pivots instead of examining that awful little thought any further. “Of course not.”
Rio grins. “You’ve always been a sensation to me.”
Wanda giggles, wrinkling her nose. “Why, that was almost romantic!”
“If you liked that, then you’ll love this- we should get out of here, before the cops show up again.” Agatha drawls. “Avoiding jail time: the true meaning of romance.”
“Charmer.” Rio snickers, but offers her arm to Wanda in a gallant fashion, then to Agatha on the other side- before they blink back home.
7:32 AM
“Good morning, Jennifer.”
“What the FUCK are you WEARING?!”
˖⁺‧₊˚✦
@thiswildernessismyhome requested: agatha/rio/wanda, doing frankly anything in the same room. which i know is not really a prompt, but there is nothing (fighting, fucking, snarking, being sweet, being salty) that i do not love seeing them do together. hatching some sort of plot? getting drunk together? fluffy domesticity? angst and drama and jealousy? YOU CANNOT GO WRONG
Shoutout to the following things: TGIF by Katy Perry, Don't Threaten Me with a Good Time by PatD, Ocean's 11, The Hangover, Sons of Anarchy, Agents of Shield, Viva Las Vegas, and Patti Lupone.
merry trickmas jes! I hope you like it- it kinda turned into this high concept thing, which took forever to execute; but it doesn't matter how slow you go, as long as you don't stop! trickmas will continue until there is no more trick to mas 😂 (live mas, etc.)
Guys I need a fanfic about Rio's family Infinity, Fate, Life, Time, Eternity, Entropy, and Eon, meeting Agatha for the first time. Them wondering who's this human/witch that has turned Death into a whipped puppy and has her bending the rules and sulking. Can you imagine the family dynamics? ESPECIALLY if Rio's the youngest and they go meet Agatha without Rio knowing.😂😂
Agatha All Along and Wandavision got me and my beloved over here avidly discussing who tops who.
I think we've settled on Agatha tops Rio, especially when Rio is bratty but Rio tops Agatha when she asks but Rio is babygirl for Wanda but Agatha is a top for Wanda but Wanda also tops Agatha and... is in charge of making sure they're all bundled for winter.
