#have you seen the yellow sign?

[xantdee]

Translated the infamous Cassilda's song to Russian while preparing to run Impossible Landscapes. Everyone is welcome to use my translation if you like it.

О берег бьются облака, Два солнца прячутся в волнах, И тени все длинней в Каркозе.

Созвездий черных странный свет Мерцает странным лунам вслед, Но всех страннее мрак Каркозы.

Струится с неба песнь Гиад, Лохмотья Короля шуршат, Но тишина царит в Каркозе.

Мой голос нем, слова мертвы, Невыплаканных слез следы Засохнут навсегда в Каркозе.

[deltagreenwcell]

I found a copy of the king in yellow

here it is

"https://drive.google.com/file/d/19AQ2vX9eoucwlGzIBKlfjerajJtVn-TP/view?pli=1"

read at your own risk

Burn BEFORE reading.

Activate STATIC protocol.

[silvandar]

New game! Respond to all unsolicited messages and bots with this image

Use variations of the phrase "have you seen the Yellow Sign?"

Bonus points for Malevolent fans if you continuously call them John or Arthur.

You get 10 points for every reply they send, and 100 points if they call you a slur or become abusive.

All platforms can play!

Please do screenshot and tag with "Yellow Sign Who Dis" so we can watch the fun!

[majoresca]

Folks, do you believe in signs? Like, omens and superstitions?

[hoodedfigure-no99]

Got some ink done the other week.

[kitasuno]

we fly together | kageyama tobio x reader

in which kageyama tobio is born for several things: the court, his team, and you. and he really, really wants to marry you.

wc: 766 | gn reader | little glimpses of your relationship with tobio over the years

There are several givens in Kageyama Tobio’s life. 

There’s volleyball. It’s in his blood. Volleyball is shoes squeaking on floors, the shrill of a whistle, Nikuman after practice, and that sweet, sweet feeling of connection– fingers brushing yellow and blue leather and palms aching after a serve. Kageyama Tobio was born for the court and born to fly. 

His team is one of them. There’s Sugawara, who still treats him to yakitori and an Asahi Dry (or three) whenever he’s back in Miyagi. Daichi sends him assorted nuts from Sendai every once in a while and Nishinoya mass e-mails him slightly blurry pictures of his life abroad on New Years. Ushijima buys electrolytes for him and Kourai. Shouyou is, well, Shouyou, and Kageyama counts him as two givens. 

There’s the small things too: he takes a little too long to read Kanji, he buys a new face wash every month, he will always avoid rush hour. 

And then, he thinks, there’s you. 

It hits him in full force in the middle of the street on a Tuesday evening as he holds a plastic bag of groceries. It also, consequently, renders him immobile for ten minutes, because Tobio had never been one to dwell on the givens. But as he stands on the pavement and his bag carries the burden of hashi for two, yogurt for two, two packs of sandwiches and four bags of gummies,

 ( because you really like those gummies: and Tobio had thought, if you like the grape flavor, then you should also try the strawberry. And if you wanted to try something new, you might crave the fizzy Cola ones. And if you liked the Cola ones, then he had to buy the Ramune flavored ones, too ) 

Tobio gets the urge to buy a ring. And an urge, no, a craving to marry you. 

Tobio remembers study sessions in high school and desperate makeouts in Karasuno’s dusty storage closet. He remembers the firsts: first conversation, first fight, first kiss, first date. Sprinting on beaches before the sun kissed the horizon and laying underneath the stars. He remembers graduation under cherry blossoms and pressing his second button into your palm with red cheeks and shaking hands. 

There were tears, too. Anger as he realized he couldn’t, for once, be selfish and have both you and professional volleyball. Anger as you had cried and cried and cried in his arms because you were getting your degree in Miyagi and he was moving to Tokyo. Anger as you had suggested breaking things off because you knew that Kageyama was born for the court. To fly. 

And you had said, between tears, that Tokyo was his potential. Because you knew him, and you knew that he didn’t like texting and that he wasn’t good at communicating, but you somehow underestimated how much you meant to him. Then: you had stopped crying because Kageyama was crying. And you had never seen Kageyama cry. 

You were there when Kageyama started on the National Team, standing in the bleachers with the biggest smile he had ever seen, jumping as you turned to show him the Kageyama embroidered on the back of your jersey. You were there when he accepted his position on the Adlers, and watched their broadcasted games behind textbooks and journals and pencils from your dorm in Sendai. 

Kageyama was there when you called him sobbing because the pipes in your dorm leaked. He was there when you got fired from your part time job for slapping a customer. Begrudgingly, he was there when you asked him to have Oikawa Tooru sign twelve jerseys for your friends at university. And then, he was there when you graduated college, diploma in hand and a blush on your cheeks as you pressed your button into his palm even though you really weren’t supposed to do that. 

Now you’re in Tokyo, having accepted his slightly bashful request for you to move in with him– in a nice apartment on the fourteenth floor overlooking the city; because even though he didn’t really like heights, he knew you loved city lights and people-watching. And if he had to cover his face when he saw the nameplate next to your shared apartment that read Kageyama, well. You didn’t have to know that. 

He’s still on the street, and he’s still holding his grocery bag, but his eyes are firm because he really wants to make your last name Kageyama. 

So he makes a phone call. 

“Tanaka-san,” He says before his former upperclassman can react. “Where did you buy Shimizu’s ring?” 

[ikkyfics]

Divination

James Potter x f!reader

Summary: "You two have a intertwined future," the teacher says, her enigmatic smile deepening. "I see a boy... He'll wear glasses, like his father."

Warnings: just fluffy - a lovestruck and embarrassed James

Masterlist | Realization | c.ai

The scent of incense hangs heavy in the stifling Divination classroom, where the heat wraps around you like an invisible cloak. The dim light of scattered candles in ancient holders gives the room a mysterious air, and thick velvet curtains block out any sign of the outside world. You’re seated beside James Potter, and between the two of you, at the center of the round table, a crystal ball rests silently, surrounded by a tattered book of Divination with yellowed pages.

It’s been at least half an hour since you both started staring at the crystal ball, unable to see anything at all. Frustrated, James was the first to give up, throwing himself into the far more entertaining task of making up ridiculous stories about the future he “saw” in the cloudy surface of the object.

“There! It’s as clear as day,” he says, dramatically pointing at the crystal ball with a mischievous grin. “You’re going to be the first professional Quidditch player to bring a hippogriff onto the field. And I’ll, uh… obviously become the greatest dragon tamer the world has ever seen.”

You burst into laughter, trying to keep a straight face as he gestures like he’s actually wrangling an invisible dragon. “Didn’t know your vision included being mauled by your own dragon,” you tease, and he chuckles, pushing his glasses up as he attempts to look offended.

You’re still laughing when you notice the professor’s presence beside your table. She seems to materialize out of the shadows, her intense gaze flicking between you and James. Your laughter dies in your throat, and James straightens in his chair, still with a trace of a grin on his lips.

“Enjoying yourselves, I see,” the professor says, her low voice reverberating in the quiet space. She leans slightly forward, observing the crystal ball for a few seconds before turning her gaze back to you. The pause is long, almost uncomfortable, and when she finally speaks, the room seems to hold its breath along with you.

“You two have an intertwined future,” she says, her enigmatic smile deepening. Her fingers brush lightly against your shoulder, a gesture almost maternal. “I see a boy… He’ll wear glasses, like his father.”

The silence that follows is deafening. It feels as though the entire world has frozen in that instant, the weight of her words hitting you like a gust of icy wind. When you finally summon the courage to glance at James, he’s already looking at you, his eyes wide, his expression a mix of surprise, embarrassment, and something else you can’t quite place.

“Well… that was… interesting,” he says at last, breaking the silence with a voice deeper than usual. He attempts to laugh, but it comes out nervous, and his hand automatically moves to his neck, ruffling his already messy hair.

“Interesting is one word for it,” you murmur, trying to keep your voice steady. But your heart is pounding so fast it feels impossible he can’t hear it.

For a moment that feels like an eternity, you hold each other’s gaze. James’s look is intense, almost unsettling, as though he’s trying to decipher something, like the future the professor mentioned is now written on your face.

“Our son, huh?” he finally says, his voice barely a whisper. He tries to smile, but it’s a hesitant one, laden with something that might be fear or anticipation. “Hope he gets your good sense. Two of me would be a disaster.”

You laugh, despite the tension, and the sound seems to ease the air between you. “And I hope he doesn’t inherit your knack for getting into trouble.”

He laughs too, and for a brief moment, everything feels normal again. But then the silence returns. James averts his gaze, staring at the crystal ball as if, suddenly, it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. You do the same, fixing your eyes on the open Divination book in front of you, though you can’t read a single word.

And then, at the same time:

“I was thinking that—” “Do you think she—”

The words overlap, making both of you stop instantly. You look at each other, startled, before James starts to laugh nervously. You can’t help but laugh too, covering your mouth with your hand as you feel heat rising to your cheeks.

“Sorry,” he says, still chuckling, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses. “You go first.”

“No, you go,” you reply, the smile still playing on your lips.

“Alright, then.” He takes a deep breath, as if preparing for something big, but when he speaks, his voice comes out softer than you expected. “Do you think… she was serious?”

You hesitate, biting your lip as you consider the question. “I don’t know. She seems so certain about everything, but… maybe it’s just one of those things she says to make an impression, you know?”

James nods, but his smile is small, almost uncertain. “Yeah, probably. I mean, she did say Peter would marry a Merpeople, didn’t she?”

You laugh again, the memory easing some of the tension. “And that Sirius would become Minister for Magic. He nearly cried from laughing so hard.”

“Yeah, that does put things in perspective.” He laughs too, but the silence that follows feels different this time. It’s not uncomfortable, but full of unspoken thoughts that seem to hang in the air between you.

“But what if…?” you begin, your voice so quiet you can’t believe you said it out loud.

James looks at you, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if he’s trying to figure out what you mean. “What if…?” he repeats, leaving the question hanging, and you feel your heart race.

“Oh, forget it,” you say quickly, laughing nervously. “It’s just the professor and her absurd prophecies. No reason to take it seriously.”

“Yeah, of course,” he agrees, but something in his voice makes you think he’s not entirely convinced.

The silence returns, and you can’t help but let your mind wander. A little boy with James’s messy hair and a pair of glasses slipping down his nose comes to mind, and without meaning to, you smile. The image is so sweet it almost makes your heart ache.

“What are you smiling at?” James asks, and you realize he’s looking at you again, his head tilted slightly.

“Nothing,” you respond far too quickly, feeling heat rise to your face.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” he presses, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“It’s just…” You hesitate, but James’s smile is encouraging, even if he doesn’t realize it. “I was thinking about what she said. About… a boy. And I was imagining… he’d look just like you, with messy hair and those glasses.”

James blinks, as though your words caught him completely off guard, and you feel the urgent need to fill the silence before it gets awkward. “Not that I think that’s going to happen! It’s just… well, the idea is funny, isn’t it?”

“It’s…” he starts, but then stops, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks away. When he speaks again, his voice is almost a murmur: “I think I’d… maybe I’d prefer a girl. Who looked like you.”

Time seems to stop. You’re sure your heart skips a beat, and the silence that follows is so thick you could cut it with a knife.

James’s eyes widen as if he’s just realized what he said. “I mean—” he begins, his voice an octave higher. “Not that… that’s not what I meant! I just… ah, never mind.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and it’s impossible to hold it back. “A girl who looks like me, huh?” you tease, and his embarrassment is so endearing you almost forget your own.

“Alright, you win,” he says, throwing his hands up in surrender, but the smile he tries to hide says more than any words could. “I think the professor got to us. We’re officially losing it.”

“Yeah,” you agree, laughing, but inside, you know something has changed. Because, as absurd as it might seem, the idea of a shared future with James doesn’t feel so impossible anymore.

[servicpop]

kinktober week 1 — shower / bath adrien ( deliquent oc ) x bttm m reader

That Saturday afternoon glow of light orange and yellows filtered through your curtains and into your room. It was a sign to turn on your light since it was getting dark. As usual, you were hunched over your desk finishing off any work you had from your classes, pen in hand and music blasting through your headphones.

Your music cuts off and out of confusion you pick it up from its position faced down on the table; its Adrien, of course. He's sent you a rather cryptic message of just emojis, no text, just "🧍‍♂️👉🏡👍💒💦💞💞💞. You don't have half the mind to decipher it but you do understand that he's most likely heading to your house. Per usual.

You don't bother sending him a reply, you seeing it is enough for Adrien to take that as a yes.

Your parents aren't home tonight, but that's never stopped Adrien from sneaking into your room through your window, even if the front door is free. You hear rattling and that's when you know Adrien has so kindly graced you with his presence. To make things easier for him, you decide to slide the window open and peer down at him.

Just like rapunzel, he's scaling your 'tower' like it's nothing. You sometimes question if Adrien is even human, and how he's acquired knowledge to safely climb your two story home. You notice that he has his gym bag slung over his shoulder and he tilts his head up to you with a grin, "Catch this!" He shouts, throwing his bag up to you and you shakily catch it, placing it down on the floor.

The next second, Adrien is hauling himself into your room and brushing off the dust from his clothes. "The front door is... open you know?" You huff, shaking your head disapprovingly. You glance over at him, and you see beads of sweat dripping down his temples and how his chest rises and falls quicker than usual.

"Are you—" "I went to training." Right, Adrien trains basically every second day of the week for a sport you never thought to ask about. Basketball? Football? Hockey? You never asked.

"Can I use your shower, prez?" The question comes off too casual; you've never really let any of your friends take a shower in your house let alone come over regularly. But since Adrien is already here, all sweaty and hot, you can't find a reason to say no. "Fine, everything you need is in there," you nod, walking back to sit at your desk.

"You're not gonna show me where it is?" Adrien places a hand on your desk, leaning his weight against his arm as he looks down at you. You just assumed he knew where it was given he's broke into your house multiple times but your assumptions were wrong. You get up and start walking, not bothering to look back to see if Adrien was following. You knew he would.

You reach your bathroom, stepping in so you could show him where everything was. Before you started speaking, you heard the faint click of the door shutting.

"Adrien—" "How am I supposed to know which knob is hot or cold?" he's so blatantly playing with you. He walks right up to you, only a hair away as he looks down at you. A stupid grin is plastered across his face and his fingers are gripping at the edge of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. "I'm all sweaty, prez, I need help washing my back," he sighs dramatically, fanning his face.

You take a moment to just stare. He's glistening in a sheen of sweat, droplets trickling down the curves and dents of his muscles, even his hair is slightly tousled. You keep quiet, unsure of what to say. That grin on his face never seems to lessen; it only grows wider by the second.

You can't even utter out a word before Adrien is pulling off his pants, letting them fall to his ankles. Your head instinctively darts to the right, trying to shield your eyes. "What? You act like you've never seen my dick before," he snorts out, tugging at your shirt, "it's been inside you too," he adds, successfully pulling your shirt off. "Oh shut up," you groan, grimacing at the way Adrien says it.

You don't stop him from completely stripping you down before taking off his own boxers, you just have the decency not to stare. He pushed the shower door open and ushered you inside before following you in. His chest his flushed against your back and the feeling of his sweat against your skin made you shiver, "Sorry," he mutters with a small chuckle.

He does know which knob is cold or hot because he immediately turns them to a desirable temperature. It's a little bit cooler than your preference though, but you don't mind it.

Adrien wastes no time in feeling your body, his hands moving straight to your hips like a moth to a flame. "You've been eating good? Not overworking yourself, prez?" He murmurs against your skin, his lips dragging along your shoulders as he clutches your body. "Yeah," your response is quiet and short, almost breathless since Adrien is all up on you at the moment.

His fingers trace the lines of your hip bone to your front, patting the skin where your leg meets your hip, slowly dipping more into your inner thighs to rub that area. His hands are so close. You can feel him spread your flesh, and he slots his cock in the free space. "Adrien," you scold, trying to pry his hands away but Adrien just ends up pushing you against the wall, your palms flat against the glass.

"You've been treating yourself well?" He hums, and you can tell from his tone he's half-mindely asking you these questions just to keep a conversation. He moves his hips back, sliding against the underside of your dick before meeting your hole, rubbing shallowly. "I haven't seen you in a week," from gentle caresses to harsher groping, Adrien's hands are now squeezing your hips.

Adrien nips at your neck, biting gently since he knew how you felt about visible marks, "It's so hard to avoid you" He borderline growls in your ear, pushing up into you. Adrien groans quietly at the feeling of you stretching out around him. His breathing becomes more and more audible as he caresses your torso.

Your small whines are muffled by the sound of water hitting the shower floor and the feeling of the cold glass along your chest gets you squirming. Adrien lifts your hips up a tiny bit, giving your ass a small tap before pushing in fully. Your fingers twitch and clench on the glass, trying desperately to hold onto something before Adrien's own hands meet yours, slotting a finger inbetween the gaps of yours.

"Just want me to hold your hand?" You wanna bite back at him but you lose your voice the moment he pulls out and thrusts back in, forcing a yelp out your throat instead of words. He squeezes the plush flesh of your ass a few times, and his eyes are trained to your hole, watching as it sucked him back in everytime he moved his hips back.

Adrien was getting overly worked up right now and the water didn't help either. Seeing the droplets decorate your spine like clear crystals rolling down the curve of your back made his mind go blank. You really brought that side out of him. He couldn't help but imagine that was his semen painting your back instead.

"Fuck you're too cute," He grunted, squeezing your hand a little tighter. Everytime Adrien pushed his dick in further, you felt the water push into you as well like it was wetting your insides. It was a weird sensation, nothing like lube, but it served to heighten your arousal from the fact that the water made the sound ofbyour skin clapping together alot louder.

It wasn't long before Adrien had moved in a way where he could hit your prostate directly and he knew he found it the moment you let out a strangled cry. Hearing that, Adrien pushed your body more against the glass, pinning you between himself and the wall. Your neglected cock was feverishly rubbing against cold wall with each thrust, smearing your pre-cum all over the glass.

"Does it feel good? Shit, maybe I gotta experiment with temp-play later," Adrien chuckled and you just let out an agitated groan that came out more like a needy whine. "That's where you're weak, isn't it? The underside of your dick?" You hated how he knew these things by now, but he wasn't wrong. Everytime you rubbed along the cold glass your body would jolt away from it and into Adrien which would result in him pushing you back into the wall as he fucked you from behind.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," you heave, squirming relentlessly as your dick twitched against the wall. Adrien just let's out a strained chuckle as he grips your hips tighter, pounding into you even faster. He leans his head down to your shoulder and sinks his teeth into your skin, forgetting about the fact that you would definitely scold him for this afterwards. The feeling of Adrien's chapped lips and sharp teeth piercing through your skin made your vision go white and your ears ring.

Your previously clear shower walls are now splattered with white and your knees buck as Adrien holds you up, forcing you to stand as he orgasms into you. He laughs breathlessly as you ragdoll in his arms like a baby deer who's trying to stand up. "Right, right I'll clean you up baby just relax, and then we'll get out," he chuckles, rubbing soap inbetween his hands before cleaning you off,

"I think I'm gonna dry up like a raisin if I stay here any longer..."

[critterbitter]

The twins and their starters may have grown slightly taller, but their love of shenanigans have tripled, no, quadrupled in size.

On that note did you know Eelectrik has a glow animation?? Perfect nightlight eel. Absolute gold standard for creature. Click here for the masterlist!

Bonus shitpost under cut ft @birdsaretoddlers’s incredible take.

(plus a fanfic drabble that birds did while we were discussing in chat! Check out their funny writing @birdsaretoddlers) “Lam lam pentttt. Lam.”

“Language. I am not calling them that. This is a civil discussion about the capacity of a 284 Berkshire’s firebox, not a playground argument.”

“Lammm Pent.”

“If you possess my phone I will have to put you in time-out in your ball, and neither of us will like that.”

The argument over a literal online flame war was cut short by the door flying open, one of the hinges breaking off with the force and flying somewhere into the aether, never to be seen again. Or at least, not without a strong magnet.

Emmet stood there, proudly, holding his newly-evolved Eelektrik, his grin a mile wide. Ingo picked his heart up out of his femoral artery, where it had lodged itself, and gently removed Lampent from where she hid, hanging over his shoulder. Emmet stood there, eyes twinkling, clearly ready to perform the coveted Bit. Ingo opened his mouth, got halfway through a word, and his twin took the proffered delight of cutting him off.

“I am Emmet and I discovered something INCREDIBLE. INGO LOOK.”

Ingo looked, because what else was he going to do? He would allow his twin to complete his circus act, it was only proper and polite. Eelektrik trilled with delight. Emmet twirled like the best of Nimbasan runway models, clearly wrestling his eel, cooing platitudes to it as he writhed and squirmed to get it into position.

“Me beautiful slimy baby, my beloved pool noodle, my beeesstt conductor!~” Doing something that could generously be called ‘dislocating his shoulders’, Emmet managed to get his eel flipped up and around his neck. He flopped forwards, bonelessly, tipping his hat and giggling madly. He was grinning harder than normal. Ingo was a little scared.

“But now, Eelektrik can do MORE. OBSERVE.”

He threw his shoulders back, standing up as tall as he could, somehow not throwing himself ass-first onto the floor as the fifty pounds of eel he was currently deadlifting remained stationary over his neck. Emmet’s arms flew upwards and out, rocking back and forth in jazz hands. Eelektrik frilled its fans, made another happy little buzz and-

"Eelektrik boa."

“DRAGONS ALMIGHTY. THE EEL GLOWS.”

There it was, clear as day. Eelektrik flashed it’s spots in natural bioluminescence, blinking like a neon sign. Bright beautiful yellow and clearly charged, Emmet’s hair stood on end, pushing his hat an inch off his head. They blinked in a rhythmic, pulsing manner. It was almost hypnotizing to watch, in a way. Ingo snapped back to reality, realizing his mouth had dropped open and Lampent had ceased questing for his Pokedex. Recognizing Emmet was looking for a response, he threw his arm out in a thumbs-up so fast his arm hurt, snapping his suspender against his neck.

“Brrravo! Ten out of ten! Majestic eel scarf!” He praised, Emmet’s expression only growing further full of himself and his achievement, which was well deserved. Lampent echoed the sentiment, flashing back at Eelektrik in response.

Now that both Pokemon could glow, they’d never have a problem in the caves again!

[wlwloverwrites]

fifteen minutes

pairing: old man!logan howlett x prostitute!reader

warnings: sex work, oral sex (male receiving), cock and ball worship, smut 18+

he caught your eye the second he walked in. his gruff look in the brown jacket paired with his reading glasses pulled you in. so you walked up to him, placed a gentle hand on his back as you whispered a soft hello.

the sound of your voice had him raising an eyebrow at you, looking over his shoulder before he grunted out, “just walk away, you don’t want this.”

a part of you is thrown off by the immediate rejection, but you play it off.

“what? i can’t buy you a drink?” you smile before pointing to the glass on the counter, “looks like you finished that one.”

you sit on the stool next to him, studying him. watching him stack up the comic books in front of him. you eye the man in yellow on the front cover for a second before you stare up at the man. clueless as to who he is, you approach him once more signaling to the bartender to pour him another.

“hard day?” you tread carefully, bringing your drink to your lips while making eye contact with him.

“a shitty one.”

despite his answer you take his response as a good sign as he downs your offered drink.

“never seen you in here before, you just passing through?”

a dry chuckle fall past his lips, “you don’t give up, do you?”

“only want to make your day better,” you smile innocently.

it’s quiet for a few seconds, you can see him fighting internally. his eyes stare at yours before they fall to your lips.

“i don’t have that much time.”

knowing you’ve won, you smirk, “i can do a lot in fifteen minutes.”

so you stand and walk towards the bathroom knowing he’d follow. no one bats an eyes when they see the gruff man follow you to the restroom, nor do they care when you lock the door behind him.

before his back can hit the wall, you’re on your knees pocketing a few hundreds in your back pocket. expert fingers undo his belt, button, and zipper, as you stare up at him. a soft giggle falls past your lips when you hear him curse.

not caring that he’s only half-hard, you lick a wet stripe on the underside of his cock. maintaining eye contact, you spit on the tip of his leaking cock and smile at the feeling of his cock fattening up in your hold.

using your spit as lube, you work your fist up and down his cock, waiting for the perfect moment to get your mouth back on him.

staring up at him, you stick out your tongue and slap his now leaking cock on your drooling tongue.

“fuck, you’re filthy.”

instead of replying you wrap your lips around the tip of his cock and suck. the taste of him is diluted from your spit, but you can still make out his manly taste. it's not the most pleasant, but you don't care.

not wasting a second, you start bobbing your head on his cock, taking every inch of his cock until the tip is hitting the back of your throat with a wet sound.

the feel has him tilting his head back and groaning. when you do it a second and third time, planning every breath meticulously, you feel his knees buckle.

the sound of his dick hitting the back of your throat, pairing with his groans fill the restroom. when his moan get particularly loud you pull away from his cock and gasp rather loudly, putting on a good show.

your mouth is replaced with your fist once more, however, you're quick to occupy your mouth. you dip your head between his leg, holding his glistening cock so it's pressed against his belly as you press your wet tongue onto his balls.

before you can let him say anything you try your best fit them in your mouth. mindful of your teeth, you hollow your cheeks as you successfully suck one of them in your mouth. they're full, so much to the point they cause a strain in your jaw.

if you thought his moans were loud before, boy were you wrong.

“fuckin’ shit.”

the wet noises that fill the room as your work the other one in your mouth are muffled by your own moans. the vibrations only enhance the man's experience as moans escape his lips.

"ya' do this with all the guys?"

he can't help but ask, a part of him jealous of anyone who's gotten you to fall on your knees, yet another part of him is prideful to have your mouth on him.

"just the goods ones," your voice sounds raspy.

yet again he's prideful.

"think i'm the worst of them all."

before you can respond, the man's hand pushes your head lower, a power play. he stands tall, despite his shaky knees, and urges you to mouth at his balls, one by one as your hand work his cock with the occasional twist of your wrist.

when your jaw finally gives up, your hand replaces your mouth and you carefully fondle his balls. spitting on his cock once more, your hand works even faster.

"wanna come for me?" you blink up at the man who found himself staring at the ceiling, trying to hold off his orgasm.

"almost there," he nods, staring down at you, his reading glasses threaten to fall.

he's handsome.

even more so when he comes.

his groans fill the restroom, as he spills onto your tongue. spurts of come fall onto your cheek, drip down your chin, and land mostly onto your tongue. the hand fondling his balls falls, but the one working on his cock never stops.

determined to get every drop, you slap his cock on your tongue a couple more times before you take him in your mouth for the last time.

"f-fuck. wait-"

you take him until the tip of his spent out cock kisses the back of your throat. his hips twitch from the overstimulation and finally you pull off, making sure to lick up any come or spit.

"you're good at that," he almost breathes out with droopy eyes, he almost misses the way you swallow down his come with a smile.

he blinks away his sudden loss in energy to watch you lick your lips clean.

before he can even think his hand falls to your face, with a clean thumb, he swipes the come on your cheek, and the drips on your chin before bringing it to your mouth. on autopilot you let his thumb push past your lips as you suck it clean.

“so is your day better?” you ask smugly, standing up and dusting off your jeans.

“yeah, is it.”

you smile and walk to the door, unlocking it. with a smirk you look over your shoulder, “told you i only needed fifteen minutes.”

and with that you walk out of the restroom, sending him a wink. without any shame, the older man’s eyes fall to your ass watching you go.

his eyes catch a few extra hundred bills in your right pocket, pats his down, only to find them empty.

please reblog!!! please comment!!! i would love to hear your thoughts on this :)

read more logan content here

[honey-tongued-devil]

↠The last drop tour

| Part 1 | | Part 2 | | Part 3 |

This tour is designed to provide those who need it with a complete map of the Last Drop, as well as to help me (and anyone reading my fanfiction, Everytime it Rains) clearly envision the spaces while reading. This tour is incredibly detailed, and I’ll explain both the location and what you’re looking at. Let’s just say I’ll be your personal tour guide! Enjoy!

↠FIRST PART, THE BAR

Let’s start with the entrance! The door is massive, asymmetrical in true Zaun style, made of stained glass and steel. To the right of the door is the Last Drop’s electric meter, while on the left stands the iconic, battered jukebox. In these photos, it looks especially worse for wear because they were taken after the fight between Vi and Sevika.

And we can finally turn around to take in the Last Drop in its entirety! For accuracy, I’ve included both a screenshot from “Jinx Fixes Everything” and an image from Nikolai Lebedev’s ArtStation portfolio.

There are about four fairly large round tables scattered across the central area of the room. The floor is herringbone wood, and the lighting is spread out. While I didn’t take the photos myself, the LED lights are dispersed across the ceiling. On the second floor, you can still spot a yellowish-greenish sign featuring the Last Drop’s symbol, and the “columns” are adorned with blue lights.

If you’re looking for warm lighting, the yellow neon lights and the ones behind the bar are switched on; the cooler lights are positioned along the side walls of the venue.

Before moving on to show you what’s around the main rectangle, I’d like to point out that the staircase to the left of the bar leads to the upper floor. Next to it is a small corridor that takes you to arcade machines and the pool table seen in several scenes.

"What’s on the sides of the rectangle? What do you mean?"

Yeah, I wasn’t sure how else to describe it, but while the public and chaotic section where people dance is the central rectangle, to the right and left of that area are two booths on each side. These booths have fixed tables and heavy curtains that can be closed to ensure maximum privacy.

This is where customers strike deals—we see it in Act 1 when the two Bilgewater pirates threaten Huck. Since the Last Drop came under Silco’s control, the first booth now displays pictures of him (and two other chembarons, though theirs are small and insignificant), commemorating the venue’s inauguration.

So, if you’re looking for privacy, this is the perfect spot.

But follow me—before I take you to Silco’s office, I’ll bring you to another place I’m sure none of you expected to see. Through the door to the right of the bar, there’s a small flat area, perfect for storing spare drinks, followed by a long staircase leading down. But first, we need to grab the key. Silco cared deeply about keeping this place intact, so it’s been locked up the entire time. In the meantime, take a look at the bar!

The key is nailed to one of the planks of the bar—it was necessary to stop here to retrieve it. But let’s not dawdle, down we go!

I know you’d never have guessed, but Silco was an extremely sentimental person. He decided not to touch the little room where Vander and his kids used to live. Instead, he locked it up and let it remain "sacred" in its own way. The room is very small and packed with stuff, so it’s hard to move around. You’ll have to settle for a quick glimpse. Let me jog your memory by reminding you that when Vander talks to Vi and sends Mylo and Claggor out of the room, the staircase Claggor sits on is the same one we just came down.

What do you say—shall we head back up? Taking the staircase on the left side of the bar, we arrive at the upper floor! At first glance, it’s just a mezzanine, as it aligns with the "public" rectangle of the bar below. To the left of the stairs, we have Silco’s office, which I’ll show you in detail another time. Over there, where you now see the barrels, is where, in my story, there’s a door leading to the upstairs area—currently Vander and the kids’ home. That door gets covered during event nights to prevent any troublemakers from wandering into their house. On the right, we have the DJ’s console and more tables for those who’d rather enjoy their drinks in peace than join the dance floor.

The reason I suggest you take a break and grab a drink before entering Silco's office is that there's really a lot to see. Here you’ll find my Masterlist, which includes both Part 1 and Part 2 of the tour.

[nevadancitizen]

-> ROT IN PUREST GOLD

synopsis: you've been skipping through universes ever since you touched the source of the hexgates. through everything, you've never stopped searching for your viktor -- now, you've found him, and you just want to go home.

word count: 2.7k

ships: viktor/reader

tags: angst with a happy ending, fluff and angst, pre-established relationship

notes: inspired by purest gold by miracle of sound. and this is my first shot at writing viktor.. lmk if i got anything wrong ^_^

related reading: Oh Viktor, My Viktor (What Could’ve Been)

It’s been years since you saw Viktor. Many years – artificial years. Years spent close, away, at a distance but still observing. But they were never your Viktor. 

Viktor with the accented voice and the long face. Viktor with the work ethic of a hive of worker honeybees, tireless and continuous. Viktor with the eyes of pure gold – never pyrite or brass with a yellow twinge. He’s always been made of the purest gold.

None of them ever could’ve replaced him. With all these alternate universes you were hopping between, you met plenty of Viktors. Some came close, but none replaced him. It wasn’t their faults; they couldn’t compete with a memory. 

You were a variable, too, so you couldn’t blame them completely. You went by different names, had different stories. Anything to make this depressing, grueling trudge through many lives more tolerable. 

Some things made things less annoying, like cars. (Well, sometimes. Sometimes they were a nuisance.) Cars are one of the things you think your Viktor would’ve liked to study. To take apart, to put back together, to modify and make better. You could see him becoming a real torque dork while listening to Speedfreaks FM. 

Mostly because that’s what he insists on listening to when you drive him to his doctor’s appointments – both of which you’re doing right now. Well, this universe’s version of him insists on Speedfreaks FM, and insists on you not calling him a ‘torque dork.’ Differentiating the Viktors from each other gets really complicated really fast, but giving them numbers feels dehumanizing. (If you did, this Viktor would be V-24. You’ve been keeping track.)

You turn on your blinker and wait for an opening to drive into the parking lot. Beneath the chatter of the radio hosts, you can hear Viktor tap his slender fingers against his forearm crutch in the passenger seat. Another difference you’ve noticed – both his outward fidgeting and his different mobility aids. 

When your turn comes, you turn your car into the parking lot. You slowly let the car drift, your foot hovering above the brake in case someone needs to cross. 

You turn down the radio a few clicks. “You think you’ll need your wheelchair?”

Viktor is silent. You take your eyes off the road for a split second and glance at him. He’s looking out the side window, at the plaza’s tall buildings and a sign that says Pueblito Plaza. 

“Viktor?” You say. “You hearing me?”

You pull into a parking spot and put the car in park. Worry eats through you – you don’t know what’s happening. Why is he acting like this?

He’s turned in his seat, looking through the back window at the buildings. There’s amazement on his face and for a second – a split second – he’s there. He’s your Viktor. 

But he’s not. He’s not. 

Those eyes are not gold. They are topaz and they are citrine. They are the yellow-orange that accompanies the sunrise. Beautiful, yes, but not yours.

“Where… are we?” He asks, his voice soft and wonderful.

“We’re going to your doctor appointment,” you say. “With… what’s her name? The pulmonologist. And then you have a CT chest scan.”

“No – the nation,” Viktor says. “What nation are we in? I have never seen technology like this.”

He runs a hand over the console of the car, then over the glovebox. He opens it, then looks inside. Nothing but napkins from fast food places and a laminated copy of your car insurance. 

“What’re you looking for?” You ask. You turn the key, and the car shuts off. 

“The power source,” Viktor says, looking at the key in your hand. “May I?”

“Viktor, you’re not cleared to drive,” you say, your voice growing sterner and firmer. “The doctors said your legs are… too weak or something – I don’t know.”

You clutch the key (and the carabiner it’s attached to) tighter in your hand. The charms hanging from it jingle and clink together. A small cog and a toy that looks like a spark plug make a metallic click as they collide.

“What is that?” Viktor reaches out, but just barely stops himself from touching the spark plug toy. You pause for a second, then give him the entire carabiner. 

Viktor holds the spark plug toy up to his face, inspecting it closely. He lets the rest of the charms on the carabiner dangle freely. You watch him – watch his eyes. A spark of gold. A fleck of cooler color in a pool of a warmer, yellowish orange. 

He sets the pad of his thumb on the hex of the toy (the hex here is a piece of metal on a spark plug fitted for a wrench – not the hex you were used to, so long ago). He wiggles it back and forth, then spins it. The hex spins with a barely-audible metallic rasp, like a fidget ring.

“It’s very intricate for a toy,” Viktor says. “Who made this?”

“Wh… you did. You gave that to me,” you say softly. “Why don’t you remember that?”

A quiet question nags the back of your mind – is Viktor getting worse?

You silently beg that you’re right. In a twisted, selfish way, you want him to get worse. You’ve taken care of Viktor before. Watched him die in multiple dimensions. In some of them, he even died in your arms, his golden eyes fading and his hand falling from your cheek.

You know what it’s like to watch him get worse. You’ve done it before, seen it before. You know what to do, how to grieve. You don’t know what you’d do if this is… Viktor. Viktor for real. Your Viktor.

“Are you trying to stifle my curiosity?” Viktor asks, a teasing smile on his face, his eyes still on the toy. 

“You gave it to me… I don’t know, six, seven years ago?” You say. You turn so that your shoulder is leaning against the car seat, facing him. “A spark plug. It’s important to the engine. I don’t remember how. And now… I’m failing your test.”

Viktor puts the carabiner down on the console. He laughs, and he’s looking at you like… you don’t know how he’s looking at you. But it’s something familiar. Something long-lost that you’ve been yearning for. 

“How could I test you on something I barely know anything about?” He asks. His smile falters a little.

“Don’t bullshit me,” you say, smiling. (His laughter always manages to make you smile.) “You know everything there is to know about cars, trucks, motorcycles…”

Viktor’s smile turns forced and confused. His eyebrows furrow a little. ���I… have no idea what you’re talking about…”

And then he says it. He says your name. Your real name, your true name – the name V-1 called you. The name the real Viktor called you. 

It goes through you like a cold shock. A baptism in electrified ice water. You want to put your hand to his throat and ask, “What the fuck? What the hell did you just call me? Who’re you talking about?” 

You want to… but you can’t. You’re frozen until Viktor places a hand on yours.

You jerk it away, cradling both hands to your chest and scrunch back against the car door. “Don’t touch me.”

And he says your name again. Again, in that tone that invites sympathy, but mostly pity. He’s pitying you. You’ve gone through this too many times, with too many therapists.

“You – Viktor,” you say, his name coming out in a gasp. There’s a lump in your throat and you feel almost nauseous. 

“You’re not… you’re not the real one,” you grind out. “You’re not my Viktor, so stop acting like it. In th– in this universe, you’re just a friend, and that’s it.”

Viktor is silent, his mouth agape. “My love –”

“Don’t! Please,” you say. The words escape you before you can do anything. “Please, just don’t. Who – who told you?”

“Who told me what?” Viktor asks. His voice is still soft and sympathetic and sickly sweet.

“That you’re… you were…” You slump against the car door. Your elbow knocks against the steering wheel.

You look at him again. Your eyes dart between both of his, looking, observing. They’re not gold anymore. Well, they never really were, but now they’re… they’re opaline – pearlescent. A whole kaleidoscope in a drop. This is something different, but, still… it’s almost like you can sense him. This is the true Viktor – your Viktor. 

“I was there, Runeterra, the core of the hexgates, and then… I wasn’t. I’ve lived twenty-three lives before this. My first memory of… here… is of my fifteenth birthday party. I had to grow up all over again. Make new friends, go to a child’s school. I didn’t have anyone. And you –” Your voice catches in your throat, on both anger and sorrow. “You left me here! You left me to do this all alone!”

“I would never.” Viktor’s cold hands meet yours. He cradles them both. “I would never leave you, my love. I’m so, so sorry.”

“But you did!” You grip his hands as tight as you can, trying to savor the feeling. Tears well at the corners of your eyes. “You left me with this… this rot. These gilded Viktors that look like you, act like you. And it hurt. Everything hurts.”

“I know,” Viktor says softly. “You’re hurting me, too.”

You blink, then realise what you’re doing and loosen your grip on his hands. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He breathes out a soft laugh, then brushes his thumbs over your knuckles. “It must’ve been lonely, all by yourself.”

“You have no idea,” you say, your voice breaking a little. You blink hard, and a tear runs down your face. “We went to an arcade, and I spent all my quarters on you. We went to a museum, and I bought you a small paperweight of a statue that was on display there. We went to this weird, exotic place – Great Britain, I think it was called – and we shared tea and scones. And, no matter what I did, it… it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t right. It… he wasn’t you.”

“I’m here now.” Viktor gives your hands a gentle squeeze – much softer than what you gave him. “How long has it been?”

“I don’t… I don’t know,” you say tearfully. “Time moves differently here. Maybe… sixty years? I’m not sure.”

“Sixty?” Viktor balks. “Oh, my love…”

His hands slowly, carefully, move away from yours. Cold fingers meet your jaw, and your eyes flutter shut on instinct, head tilting down into the touch. Viktor cradles your face, both his thumbs brushing back-and-forth over your cheeks. 

 “I dreamt of you,” you say softly. “Every night. And I thought of you every day. Just… thinking of you, every moment I could spare.”

“Surely that’s an exaggeration,” Viktor says. 

You shake your head and lean further into his touch. “I’ve waited so long… so long. And now you’re here, and I – I don’t know what to do.”

He moves his hands, the tips of his fingers splayed across the sides of your neck and his thumbs gently pressing into your temples. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “This is nice, though. Just… you being here is nice.”

You lean forward, placing your hands over his to ensure they stay in place. “It felt like eternity, waiting for you. Just waiting, and longing. None of them could replace you.”

You open your eyes, just the slightest bit, and take Viktor in. Good god, he’s Viktor. He’s your Viktor. No longer the purest gold, but something new. Something better. Something life-bringing and something with infinite mercy.

“That is flattering, coming from you,” Viktor says. “You could have anyone you want – anyone across twenty-four universes. And you chose me, in every single one? That is the highest praise I could receive.”

You breathe out a laugh as your eyes shut again. “Shut up.”

“Eh… if you continue to act like this, I don’t think I will,” he teases. In a softer, warmer tone, he adds, “Your face is getting warm, too. I can feel it.”

You groan and hide your face in Viktor’s hands further. Even though you act like you hate it, you’ve missed this – you’ve missed this immensely. His teasing, his compliments that make you feel like you hung the sun, the moon, and all the stars by yourself. 

“Maybe you’re just getting warmer in general,” you say softly. “Maybe you’re getting better.”

“I have gotten better,” Viktor says, his voice light. “In our universe… I… I have touched the Arcane. I have been healed, and I am a healer. A herald into a new, better world – not only for the Undercity, but for the whole of Piltover.”

You shift his hands so that they’re resting on your cheeks and open your eyes, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “That sounds nice. I’m… sorry you had to do all that without me.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Viktor asks. “It’s not your fault.”

“I don’t know. I just…” You sigh. “I blamed it all on you, and I was angry. Real angry. But it wasn’t your fault – it wasn’t anyone’s. I was angry and I took it all out on the memory of you.”

“Do you really think I care?” His voice is soft as he swipes a thumb over your cheek. 

“No,” you admit after a moment. “But, still…”

“You are occupying your mind with the past and what-ifs,” Viktor says. He draws a hand over your scalp, his fingernails lightly digging into the skin there. “Focus on the here, the now.”

You shudder and melt into his hands. Your eyes, though still closed, sting with a fresh wave of tears. 

“I missed you,” you choke out. 

“You’ve said that already,” Viktor says. 

“I can’t say it enough,” you say, your voice sticky and wet. “I was your champion in the arena. I was your personal knight. I was the chieftain of your armies. I was your tool, your instrument. And you were my everything.”

“You are my everything,” he says. His tone is so sincere and heartfelt that it makes your throat seize up. “Why would you ever doubt that?”

“I didn’t,” you say. “It–it’s just that, all these memories… I was so many people, and so were you. And some things blur together, and it gets hard to differentiate everything, and…”

You groan and lean into Viktor’s touch. You glance up into his eyes, still opaline. “Everything got so complicated so fast. I just wanted you – the real you.”

“It’s okay, my love.” His hands move to hold your jaw, to draw you closer. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“But I feel like I have to,” you say. “I just… I just want you back. I wanna go back to the Viktor I know. I wanna go home.”

“We can go home,” Viktor says. “I can take you home.”

“Then take me home,” you say, almost too quickly. “Viktor, please.”

“You don’t have to beg,” he says. There is no teasing or hidden malice in his voice. He just wants you home, too. 

Viktor’s hands slide to the back of your head, his palms almost cradling your skull. He presses his fingers down and tilts your head forward, towards his. Your eyes flutter shut as your forehead touches his. 

It’s white. It’s the bright, cleansing light of some sort of heaven. Heaven? Haven? You’re not too sure. You’re not sure you can bring yourself to care, either. Not when you’re here – not when your Viktor is in reach. Not when you can touch him, hold him, talk to the one you love. The one you’ve been pining for, fighting for, losing and winning for. From somewhere between sixty years and eternity, you’ve been wanting him. And now he’s here. Your Viktor is here. 

It’s unbelievable. Your Viktor is here. 

The memories of your past lives, the former realities you’ve lived, meld and blur into distinct feelings. Visual memories blend into base emotions. A warrior’s pride. A traveler’s wanderlust. A teenager’s excitement. A knight’s confidence and courage. A chieftain’s insecurity cloaked as hostility. 

They melt away into contentment. A gentle wave lapping at a quiet shore. Acceptance. 

You are healed. 

You are home. 

[enemywasp]

Shipping both billford and billdip is really funny actually. Cause imagine you have this weird toxic yet sort of romantic relationships with your muse throughout your youth till one day you realise he's just using you and you have the worst breakup the universe has ever seen and you get trapped travelling dimensions plotting your revenge. Skip forward to when your back and you find you have a nephew with all the same interests and likings as you did at his age so you watch him grow up surrounding himself with the paranormal and research just like you. And them suddenly he starts acting weird and secretive and you recognise all the signs but surely not, right?? And so you ignore it all until one day you finally come back from travelling with your brother one summer to find your far-too-similar-to-you nephew obviously dating a demon. And y'know what are the chances but surely it can't be- its that exact yellow prick. Your ex. Dating your nephew. And looking far too smug about it too.

[cthulhus-curse]

Once Upon a Time

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 10,031

Warnings: Drugging, Dubious Consent, Impact Play, Jealousy, Manipulation, Mind Control, Mommy Kink, Nursing Kink, Possessive Sex, Sadism, Smut, Somnophilia, Spanking, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering, Womb Tattoos | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: You never expected to meet the twins you had given away over a decade prior on your 29th birthday, but after a chance encounter, you visit the quaint little town of Westview to find more than you bargained for at the hands of its mayor — the dark, elusive, puppeteering Wanda Maximoff. (Once Upon A Time AU)

The journey to New Jersey was seemingly endless. All which could be seen from the inside of your yellow bug were dark trees which embraced the dimly-lit roads of the rural side of the state. It had not been your plan to drive through the most remote part of the tristate area, living in the depths of New York City yourself, but for a spontaneous birthday trip, it was entertaining to say the least.

You eyed the two small children sleeping in the back of the car through the rearview mirror. It had been years since you dared remember the twins you gave away over a decade before. You were young and stupid, getting pregnant before you had even finished your first year of college. Not being fit to be a parent, you decided to have an outsider raise them. Although you never met the one who adopted them, you just knew they were in good hands.

The last thing you had expected was for them to show up at your doorstep on your twenty-ninth birthday. Your phone was in hand ready to call security about two missing children, but after the one with longer hair, Tommy he said his name was, told a story about twins you once gave away, you nearly passed out from disbelief.

They had carried around a rather curious book filled with various comic book stories. You knew them from passing through stores and seeing such familiar names present, but when they each told you they were real people in their town, it took all your energy not to laugh then and there. After brushing it off as a simple case of being children, listening in to them talking about how various people were from such stories, such as their mother being the Scarlet Witch, the waitress at the dinner Black Widow, their psychologist Hulk, among others, you made up your mind.

Not trusting a train to take them back home in the late hours of the night, you drove out to a quaint little town called Westview, New Jersey. You could only assume it was as small as a simple street without much surrounding it as it didn’t even show up online, but with a map – old-fashioned as it was – the boys gave you, you set forth to bring them home. The least you expected was for them to keep you company through the drive, knowing not to get close or else you’d get attached once again, but as soon as you left the city, they passed out.

“I can’t believe I have to drive to creepy New Jersey on my goddamn birthday,” you grumbled. There wasn’t much waiting for you at home, only a frozen pizza to heat up while you watched reruns of your favorite comedy shows, but then again, that was the only entertainment you cared for.

Far too afraid to awaken the slumbering children, no music was put on. You carried lazy, exhausted eyes while driving through the empty roads, confused at the fact that it was a seemingly desolate path no one dared venture forth. It had already been an hour since the last sign of civilization was seen.

When you finally saw the sign reading ‘Westview’, relief shot through you. Only a few more minutes and you’d be driving back home to resume your boring night. Impromptu babysitting was not something you’d signed up for.

“Hey, little runts, we’re here,” you said while turning around to shake the boys awake. “Come on, where’s your home? Your parents must be worried sick about you two.”

“Our mom doesn’t care,” Billy sleepily mumbled, rubbing his eyes as she awoke before his brother. “She sucks.”

“Dude, you’re like ten. Everyone thinks their mom sucks at that age until you’re at least 17,” you shrugged. “And you’re the ones that left this bumfuck town to find me . What kind of birthday gift is this? Haven’t you ever heard of the postal service? Couldn’t you send, like, arts & crafts and call it a day?”

“What’s bumfuck?” Tommy suddenly piped up from the other seat.

“Your parents are going to kill me,” you whispered to yourself. “Just tell me, guys. Where to now?”

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

After seemingly driving around town in circles, you landed before a decently sized mansion. It was much bigger than the other surrounding houses. For a moment you frowned, seeing how private and reclusive, bushed guarding it from perfect view, it was. With a front yard covered with blossoming apple trees and a lengthy path leading up to the front door, you felt a sense of familiarity hit you – remembering seeing it once in a dream along with a red headed creature with glowing scarlet eyes made you shake your head with disbelief.

“Home sweet home. It’s time to say goodbye, kids,” you announced when turning to the twins. They had their knees close to their chest while eyeing their house with fear. It was not a good sign. “Come on, get out of the car. I’m exhausted and need to crash soon before I kill myself in the car.”

“Can you walk us to the front door?” Billy asked with a hopeful voice.

“Kid, you’re practically an adult now. I’m pretty sure you can walk by yourselves,” you rolled your eyes with slight annoyance. Seeing their glassy eyes in the dimly-lit car broke your heart. No names, no attachment. And yet you found yourself wanting to wrap them up, your own children, in a hug. “Okay fine. Grab your things and pray your mom doesn’t kill me.”

You had barely stepped out of the car, opening the back door for the twins to exit, when the front of the house revealed a shadowed figure. Walking down the bricked path to the mansion was seemingly tedious. You weren’t afraid of many things in life let alone for the woman who stood back, a messy bun over her head and donning a rather expensive dress only accented with high-heels and crossed arms over her chest. The closer you got, the more your eyes widened.

With your subconscious taking you back to such a dream, everything in your surroundings turned a macabre dark red. There had been pitch black trees without leaves in sight as their trunks stood mangled as though tortured by the very presence of the woman at the end of the seemingly haunted forest. Glowing red eyes had pulled you forth then and as you stared at the door of the mansion, you saw them once again.

“Please don’t take us back there,” Billy suddenly cried when tugging at your shirt.

“I have to,” you sighed, knowing the kids weren’t going down without a fight. “I’m sure your parents are worried sick about you.”

“We don’t have parents. Just a mom and she’s evil,” Tommy explained from your other side. You hadn’t even noticed how they lacked the book they always carried, leaving it in your car for their ulterior motives.

“Evil?” You shook your head in disbelief. “That’s a bit extreme, isn’t it?”

“She is. She doesn’t love us,” Tommy shrugged, huffing as he stared down at who appeared to be his mother inside the house.

“She only pretends to,” Billy finished.

“Kids,” you sighed, knowing exactly how they felt. Dropping to your knees to be at the same height, you threw them a sad smile. You’d already gotten far too close, so you mused a bit more closeness couldn’t hurt. “I’m sure that’s not true-”

“Boys!”

The familiarity of the voice which rang through made you frown.

“Tommy! Billy!” the voice exasperated. The hidden figure which once stood by the door ran towards you. Arms were quickly wrapped about the twins, hugging them close. You noticed tears in her eyes which mirrored those of a crocodile. Ignoring the wild red mane which you knew from your dream, your lips formed a thin line. “Are you okay? Where have you been? What happened?”

“We found our real mom!” Tommy snarled before grabbing his brother’s hand. Neither of them dared turn back, instead running off into the house and ignoring everything their mother, well, adoptive mother, had spoken their way. Grimacing, you were left alone with the older woman.

“Y-you’re my boys’ birth mother?”

There was something enchanting and yet secretive about her. You couldn’t help but feel as though she towered over your being, smirking with raised eyebrows while you hid underneath her shadow. Each little second that passed by in silence, you allowed your eyes to rummage through her body. The tight, perfectly cut black dress accented her thin eyeliner. Hands were on her hips, clearly dominating you without daring to say a word. You allowed yourself to stare up her perfectly toned legs to her midsection, then find her cleavage before snapping yourself up to her lips. With them parted slightly, lipstick all prim and proper, you knew she was a woman impossible to forget.

“Hi,” you awkwardly replied. At the hospital when giving away the twins, no one had dared to prepare you for such a moment. It was supposed to be a closed off adoption, no one was to know and yet you were easily found by a pair of children who carried hatred for their mother.

The older woman took a moment to compose herself, lips going from disdain to a fake smile you saw right through.

“How would you like a glass of the best apple cider you’ve ever tasted?” She questioned, her voice thick with an accent you couldn’t recognize.

Chuckling, you shook your head. “Got anything stronger?”

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Tommy and Billy had long run upstairs when you were allowed into the house. Greeting the woman who you learned was Wanda Maximoff, mayor of Westview, was awkward on its own. Mostly due to the rampant disbelief and similarity to a witch having appeared in your dreams. On the way to their home, the twins had shown off a book filled with various comic book characters – superheroes at that. You shook your head when they mentioned an entity called the Scarlet Witch, said to be their mother, but as you eyed the woman who handed you a glass of brandy, you couldn’t help but let your curiosity win.

“How did they find me?” You asked after taking a sip of your drink. With the way it went burning down your throat, you closed your eyes with relief.

“No idea.” Wanda replied, her viridescent eyes unmistakably glowing red without your knowledge. “When I adopted them, they were only three weeks old. Records were sealed. I was told the birth mother didn’t want any contact.”

“You were told right.”

“And the father?” she curiously wondered. You took note of how she refused to drink alcohol and instead went to her apple cider. Her apparent obsession with apples was something you found quite amusing.

“There was one,” you giggled a bit. It was a mistake more like it, a chance encounter at a bar you were far too young to enter with a fake ID and your friends. You hadn’t even gotten his name, but of course ended up with his children.

“Do I need to be worried about him?” Wanda dragged herself down the hall where you followed obediently. Without daring to say a word, you’d exhibit no hesitation when listening on to silent orders.

“Nope. He doesn’t even know.”

“Do I need to be worried about you, Ms. Y/L/N?” There was fear in her voice which dismayed you from the well-put together, secretive woman. Whatever the kids said, you could tell she truly cared for them.

“Absolutely not,” you were quick to reply. As much as they would love for you to take them away, you had your own life built without any children. There was a reason you had given them to someone else. You weren’t fit to be a mother so Wanda, even as severe as she seemed, took that place in your name.

The office reeked of cinnamon apples when you first walked inside. The smokey nature of it, only a light turned on in the corner alongside a strip of pictures the mother and children pilled, made a warmth settle over your chest. You always did pride yourself in holding down your alcohol, but even a slight sip of the drink made your head feel woozy. Sitting down on the couch, you huffed. With hazy eyes you could barely see Wanda’s blurred figure who closed the door and sat across from you.

Gripping the faux leather couch, you frowned. There was still control you exerted over your body, but felt a strange, wicked attachment to Wanda. Looking down at the drink you noticed bubbles rising from the remaining liquid. It wasn’t a good sign but then again you were far too gone to care.

“I’m sorry they dragged you out of your life. I really don’t know what’s gotten into them.”

“The kids are having a rough time,” you shrugged. It took a moment to situate yourself, blinking various times until your vision, to your disdain, only got worse. “Happens.”

“You have to understand, ever since I became mayor balancing things has been tricky. You have a job I assume?”

“I, uh, I keep busy, yeah,” you shook your head. Wanda stared into your soul when you so much as made eye contact with her. She licked her lips, hunger striking while you grew more loopy by the second.

“Imagine having another one on top of it. That’s having a single mom.” Crossing her legs, the woman’s eyes flickered over your body. Beneath the pristine cover as a mayor lay a beast, a witch, who only wanted to come out and play. Unbeknownst to you, she had been expecting your arrival ever since she casually dropped a slip of papers near her children’s room knowing they would unknowingly bring you to her. “So I push forward. Am I strict? I suppose, but I do it for their own good. I want my boys to excel in life. I don’t think that makes me evil, do you?”

“I’m sure they’re just saying that because of the comic book thing,” you pointed out.

“What comic book thing?”

There was feigned confusion from Wanda. Truly she knew about the book which carried the stories of the townspeople. It was crafted with the help of the Darkhold, telling each person’s lives in the universe they had previously called their own. As the ruler of the cosmos, she simply had to find her children. If it took taking a chunk of their universe and bringing them to a town, which was not supposed to exist in that universe, in another, then so be it. Wanda would have her happy ending no matter what – you were only an added bonus to having her children already.

“Oh you know, their book. How they think everyone’s a superhero from it,” you chuckled at the mere idea of it. For a moment you wondered if you were in it. “Like their shrink is the Hulk.”

“I’m sorry. I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh. You know what? It’s none of my business,” you ended up awkwardly laughing. It was so difficult to breathe. With eyelids growing heavy, you held onto the couch for support. “They’re your kids and I really should be heading back.”

In your attempts to stand up, you nearly fell face first after so much of a step. With surprising speed Wanda was there to grab you in place, humming amusement as you fell onto her. She grabbed your hips, pulling you close enough to her until your face lay against her shoulder, bodies melting together.

“Of course. It’s getting late, darling. I’ll have to get you to a safe place all by myself. We can continue this conversation some other time.” She dragged you out of the room, flicking her wrist so that all the lights there dimmed down and the door closed behind her. Lips were pressed against your cheek, dropping a kiss there before making their way to your ear. “Have a good night, darling,” she breathed out with a tone dripping with lust. “Happy birthday.”

There came a frown when she uttered the words, but you were barely conscious to properly react. Your body had a mind of its own as it sagged while being pulled away. Wanda had your body and soul the first time she had set her eyes on you in your dream, only controlling you by having slipped something into your drink. As fear began to set in, eyes growing wide, everything suddenly turned black.

Under Wanda’s grasp, you were nothing but an obedient pet.

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When you awoke your head felt like it was about to burst. You grimaced, massaging your temples as the pain shot through the rest of your body, which was suspiciously lacking clothes let alone for your underwear. Not even the bed sheets beneath your back covered you up while inside the strange room. It carried a horrid floral wallpaper similar to that of the 80’s almost as though you had gone back in time.

Sighing, you shook your head. All you could remember from the previous night was having one too many drinks at the mayor’s place before inevitably needing to be taken away to the local inn. a brain filled with fake memories was not something you could put a finger on, only following what you believed to be real.

“I’m such an idiot,” you mumbled to yourself. Ignoring the growing headache from what you imagined to be a typical hangover, you huffed. Making yourself look like a drunk in front of your children’s mother who incidentally was the most powerful person in town. You ignored the book that casually sat on the bedside table of the inn, mysteriously appearing alongside you after having previously been sitting in the backseat of your car.

Deciding to get a head start on the drive back home, you gathered a few of your belongings sprawled across the room and headed out. The lanky hallway reeked of lavender which was far too much for your suddenly sensitive nose to get used to. Peering through the mysterious path, you waltzed on. Your stomach was rumbling far too loud for your comfort.

You ended up at a diner connected to the inn. It was small, quaint, and rather old fashioned with a jukebox still sitting at its side playing light tunes from past decades. Although it was barely packed, all eyes were on you. Perhaps it was the clothes from the previous night you still wore, desperately requiring a shower already, being a new face in such a small town, or both. Still, you ignored each patron of the restaurant and sat by the corner of the bar.

The menu was handed to you by a woman with dark hair and similarly sharp hazel eyes. She gave you a onceover, not daring to say anything before shaking her head and moving away. As cold as she was, there was an odd sense of familiarity to her.

“What’s a cutie like you doing in a dump like this?” came a voice which snapped you from your thoughts.

Facing from the menu, the sight of a smirking redhead standing at the other side of the counter took you by surprise. She donned an outfit similar to that of a waitress while holding out a mug filled with steaming coffee. Although rather dashing, you only had eyes for Wanda – at the silent revelation you frowned, almost as though she was in your head which, not that you knew, was not so far from the truth.

“Just dropping a pair of kids off. Not exactly how I thought my birthday weekend would go, but it’s better than sitting home and lighting a candle on a store-bought cupcake,” you chuckled dryly. “I’m just getting some breakfast before I head back home.”

“Oh it’s your birthday?” She casually asked.

“It was yesterday.”

“Well, happy belated birthday, malyshka,” the redhead mumbled before pointing to the menu. “Guess it’s on the house for you. It’s not every day we get such cute visitors. I wouldn’t mind seeing you around more often.”

“If you’re ever in the city you know who to call.” You gave the menu a once-over before landing on a whole stack of pancakes which made your mouth salivate. That along with the coffee would be the perfect fuel to get you back home safe in a matter of hours. After telling the waitress your order, you took your chance. “I’m Y/N by the way. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Name’s Natasha,” she beamed before holding out her hand. You didn’t hesitate even a second to shake it. “Sorry about my mom by the way. Melina’s not really used to new people. We actually haven’t had any visitors in years.”

“I get it. I couldn’t even find directions to this place on my phone. It’s a bit weird, but it seems like a nice enough town. Very different from the loud and obnoxious city.”

Natasha was very different from Wanda. You quickly learned that she was adventurous and longed to meet new people, perhaps escape the small town of Westview to move out west with her sister in tow. The two of you talked for what seemed like hours even between you gnawing at your pancakes and her being yelled at by her mom, who spent most of her time in the kitchen alongside her dad, to tend to other incoming customers.

To your dismay each time you so much as attempted to get close, even with light brushes against her hand, you felt a burning sensation on your lower stomach each second you talked more with Natasha. Hissing quietly, you pressed a hand against the skin. The searing pain along with glowing red eyes which zeroed in on you from outside the diner foreshadowed the life you’d lead, never daring to leave Westview even as much as you wanted.

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You had barely stepped into your room at the inn, already full with breakfast and ready to jump ship, before your mind turned blank. No thoughts swirled over your head, only mere images of a certain powerful redhead who, once again, plagued your life. Not being aware of the woman standing behind you made it easier for her to force you into the bedroom. With hands showing off their red glow and eyes mirroring it, she had you under her spell.

While nearly unconscious, Wanda dragged you to the bathroom. Your eyes were barely open, already drunk with exhaustion as your clothes were shed away. Obedient as she wished, the woman had you stand back as she turned the faucet of the shower. She had taken you to the inn late on the previous night aiming to return in the morning to take what was rightfully hers. Although when seeing you interact with Natasha, the green monster popped out – it was time to show you who owned you.

“Come here, baby,” she cooed while dragging you into the shower. In your naked glory the mayor allowed her eyes to feast up your skin. It was perfect, a blank canvas ready to be used by her. Only making it better was the tattoo she had impulsively decided to give you over your womb – a marking which shone with a scarlet tint in the shape of a particular comic book character you knew. “In the shower, now. If my little angel can’t take care of herself then mommy has to. You’re far too dumb to do it, huh? Always needing my help.”

Stepping into the shower without another word, you sighed. The warm water hit your body leaving you in awe of its silent yet powerful demeanor. While basking on the relief it made you feel, you were ignorant to the curtain which remained open as another naked body slipped behind you. Once perky breasts pressed against your back, nipples rubbing your skin, you let out an involuntary moan.

“That’s the sound I love to hear. You’re such a pretty girl, honey. I’ve missed you,” Wanda mumbled, lips brushing against your ear as she held you close. “You don’t know me, at least not here. You’ve barely even met me and yet here we are. It’s rushed, I get it, but I couldn’t stand another second away from you. Did you miss me, buttercup? I love being in your head as you sleep, but it’s nothing compared to having you here with me.”

“Miss you,” came your hypnotized reply. “So, so much, Wanda.”

“Yeah?” she smirked devilishly. Although it was her own magic making you say those words, she didn’t care. Hearing them again after having lost you in her own universe along with her children made it all better. “You’re safe now, honey. You’re home with mommy. I promise I’ll never let you go again.”

Wanda spent what felt like hours dragging soap along your body. She explored every inch, never forgetting your ticklish spots which made you giggle as she beamed at the joyous sound. Being careful when cleaning the area where the fresh tattoo lay was a must. The last thing Wanda wanted was to ruin the gift she so happily got her pet – a marking so that even touching another person, a potential threat to your owner, made you hiss out in pain and crave her even more.

Fingers danced along your sides as their nails left red marks upon your skin. She desperately craved to possess you entirely, to leave you dripping with blood, body all maimed, with bruises and little cuts she had once left on you. Wanda was nothing if not possessive. You were her property and, whether you liked it or not, she’d make it known to the world.

“You’re doing such a good job for me, baby girl. Now you’re ready for us to have some fun. I want it to be perfect though. You can’t rush this,” she said while allowing the water to overtake your soapy body until you were fully clean. “We can take it slow if you want. But just know that whenever I want to, I’ll have you. I want you to behave and not spend time around that silly waitress. Can you do that?”

“I’ll do as you say, mommy,” came your robotic reply with a mind not your own.

“There’s a good girl. Now it's time to get out of the shower.”

She helped you leave the steaming space, making you stand by the curtains as she dragged a previously dry towel across your naked body. Wanda tilted her head when brushing against the tattoo. Leaning in, she pressed her lips against it. Owning you was the greatest pleasure of her life along with being a mother – doing both made her life perfect.

“You’ll put on the clothes mommy left for you in bed. I want you to stay in town for as long as I say. You will live here, alright? If you behave, then you can stay with me,” Wanda instructed calmly. She stepped back and allowed you to go into the room to eye the pile of clothes on the bed. She knew exactly what you’d be comfortable wearing. “It’s easy, honey. You be a good little pup and I’ll reward you. If you misbehave, I’ll punish you. Am I clear?”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Good. Now let me help you get dressed. You’re far too dumb to do it yourself, huh?” Wanda hummed as she stepped closer to you. Eyes roamed her naked body which stood mere centimeters away from your own. While the redhead helped you into your new clothes, making sure to allow her lips to kiss every inch of skin she ended up covering, you were left holding onto her for balance and enjoying the view. “I’ll allow you to spend time with the twins. It’s not like you’ll remember much anyway. Just be sure to keep our children safe otherwise I won’t be sweet with you.”

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You were left to roam the reclusive town of Westview for days upon days, mindlessly walking across every area and becoming yourself acquainted with it. Various townspeople had eyed you with confusion. As Natasha had said, none of them were used to outsiders. There was fear and confusion stricken over their faces as they saw a new face waltzing down main street.

Wanda had allowed you to see the twins more often than not. They were ecstatic to spend time with their birth mother, running to you to wrap you up in their little arms before jumping up and down, asking what the plan was for the day. She didn’t allow you to leave town. As much as you wished to do so, fighting back and humoring the idea of taking them to the city for a day, the mayor flicked her wrist. Eyes turning red, she was sure to make you see the light.

Most days you spend hiking out with the boys. Tommy was quite fast if you said it yourself. The both of them would do races with him always coming out on top. Admittedly so, Wanda had her anxieties about the twins running around the forest after school, but once you promised to help them with their homework and bring them back to the mansion with full stomachs, she agreed to it – mostly when seeing in your mind how sincere you were.

“What’s going on between you and Wanda?” Billy asked one day when you walked back from the depths of the forest to the car.

“You call your mom by her first name?” You couldn’t say you were surprised about it. After all, they had trash talked their mother each time you were together. A part very deep inside you agreed, but with Wanda in your mind swallowing your thoughts, you tried to dissuade their feelings.

After shrugging, Billy continued. “Sometimes. But seriously, you’ve been weird. You shouldn’t get close to the Scarlet Witch. She’s wicked and evil.”

Tommy remained silent, seemingly exhausted from the walk. As soon as you unlocked the car, he threw himself in the backseat, begging for you to take them to the diner so they could have a burger. You quickly learned they easily dramatized their emotions at times to get what they wanted. You’d say something if it wasn’t for them being your kids.

“It doesn’t matter if you think she’s this villain or not. Wanda is your mom. She’s been taking care of you all your life. She wouldn’t hurt you, alright? You’re her kids. She loves you, little dudes,” you explained when starting up the car.

During the rather short trip to the diner up main street, Widow’s Diner & Inn, both twins remained silent. You took the time to gather your thoughts which, unbeknownst to you, were no longer your own. Pensive thoughts of Wanda have become a daily occurrence for you. At times you’d lay in your bed at the inn all sprawled while your mind went to the woman. She was fierce and powerful, but as much as you feared her, there was something familiar about her which went beyond your dream. You swore you had known her forever.

You shook your head when arriving at the diner. The boys were rather excited to finally eat, already jumping up and down with sudden bursts of energy which were only dissuaded when you ordered them to bring their backpacks – the homework would not be done by itself unless you wished for Wanda to have your head, figuratively you hoped.

“Burgers and fries for you guys again?” You asked when taking a seat in a booth in the corner of the diner.

“Yes!” came the little voices simultaneously.

After giving your order to a rather giddy Natasha, who made sure to ask about your day along with the twins’, you tapped on the table rhythmically. The boys were instructed to take out their homework and get a head start before finishing it in your room, but Tommy had other plans. The last time he was at the inn he took the book you’d curiously found yourself flipping through late one night. When he slipped it out his bag, you knew you were in for a long dinner service.

“Guys, we don’t have time for fairytales right now. Your mom’s gonna kill me if she finds out you’re doing work when you get home. No offense, but I am more scared of her than you two.”

“Come on, ma. It’ll just take a second. We gotta show you something!” Billy exasperated happily.

You rolled your eyes and let them continue. Without daring to admit it, ever since they had begun calling you ‘ma’ days before, the name coming naturally, your happiness had increased. “Fine, but make it quick. So, who else is a comic book character?”

“You know Mr. Stark Pawnbroker & Antiquities Dealer? Well, he’s actually Iron man,” Tommy whispered as though it was a long lasting secret they were to keep. He slid the chunky book towards you showing off a picture of a man surrounded by suits of armor. “And his wife, Pepper, is actually Rescue. Isn’t that crazy?”

“Yup, that’s insane,” you replied with feigned interest. While part of you only saw them as silly comic books, you couldn’t help but begin putting the pieces together especially when it came to Wanda. You had yet to say anything about your little encounter, not that you remembered much of it. Still, you knew she was someone not to be tried whether she was the Scarlet Witch or not. “Who else?”

“There’s Brunhilde who’s a Valkyrie. She’s the one that takes care of the horses and everything. Carol is her girlfriend and she’s a bartender who is supposed to be Captain Marvel. We don’t really see her much though. We’re not allowed in the bar. Mr. Stark says they sell really good wings though!” Billy huffed with apparent frustration, suddenly craving hot wings. “T’Challa is the coolest. He’s supposed to be Black Panther and he’s, like, the best math teacher ever! Oh and there’s Peter who’s in high school and he’s Spider-Man. I really like him. Sometimes he visits our school and we get to hang out! But Wanda isn’t a fan of him. She says he’s a bad influence. Oh! She calls him a mu'dak whatever that means.”

At what you knew to be a swear word, you smirked. They were fairly young, sure, but you wouldn’t punish the usage of such a word without knowledge of its meaning. Either way, you were sure you wouldn’t mind if they evolved to much more colorful words. As long as their mom was oblivious to said actions, you weren’t complaining.

“Mr. Rogers, our gym teacher, he’s supposed to be Captain America. Then Thor, the guy that works at the stables too, is, well, just Thor so that’s pretty obvious. You’d think the Scarlet Witch would pick better names to hide their identity,” Tommy shook his head with amusement. “You know Dr. Banner is actually the Hulk and,” he leaned in close, “Natasha is Black Widow. Her dad is actually the Red Guardian. Yelena and Melina are also Widows. Then there’s Clint who owns his own farm with his family. That’s Hawkeye. They’re the main six, ma. They’ll help you break the curse and bring everyone back to their universe.”

Parenting did not come naturally when you decided to give away the twins, but when getting the chance to be around them, to see how similar in nature they were to both you and Wanda, it just felt right. They each had small characteristics shared with you, primarily their propensity for stubbornness and pushing back against authority; their mother being their enemy. While you couldn’t figure out a way to remain in their lives without casting Wanda to the side, it was awfully nice to spend time with the little runts.

Still, it worried you that they put so much effort into accusing their mother of being an evil witch who created and teleported an entire town to a different universe, erasing their lives and memories before implanting new ones. While they were still letting their imagination run rampant as children often did, they took down the already weak relationship they had with their adoptive mom in the process. In the short amount of time you had known Wanda, you knew she didn’t deserve that – she forced you to think she didn't.

“Kid, this isn’t Disney. There’s no curse to be broken. You’re mom’s kinda weird, sure, but that doesn’t make her a witch,” you pointed out.

With a deflated look on their faces, the kids began pouting. It was something you quickly found to be your weakness. You had yet to spend enough time to get to know them well-enough, but knew you would do whatever it took for them. Crushing their dreams wouldn’t help you win the parent-of-the-year award, but perhaps it would get you in Wanda's good graces allowing you to potentially see more of the twins.

When Natasha arrived with your food, only a side of mac & cheese for yourself with a mysterious apple on the side, she flashed you a smile. You allowed yourself to bask in her beauty, thoughts swirling around how badly you’d want to take her hand in your own to bring her close until your lips were ghosting over one another’s. As your lower stomach burned bright red, you clutched it. Surely you couldn’t see yourself willingly settling in Westview, but for the sake of the twins it was worth it, Natasha being an added bonus.

The witch inside your head was not a fan of that, her lips turning into a thin like as you took a bite of the apple she sent your way. In minutes you were dumbed down and controlled just like she wanted. Even before having come to town she was in your head. Only given your arrival, she fully took control of her little toy. There was nothing you could do other than sit back and let her take you once again.

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“You should’ve known better, princess. Everything was going so well. We were going to be a happy family, but of course you went ahead and ruined that. Now I have to force you to listen whether you like it or not.”

They felt like macabre thoughts swirling in your subconscious. You were sleeping soundly in the inn during the depths of the night. With closed eyes and deep in your sleep, you were unaware of the atmosphere around you changing. The air grew thick and musky, your window having been opened by a bout of red magic before an unknown figure made itself into the room. A simple flick of her wrist got your clothes to disappear, not that you knew anyway. That’s just how she’d love to keep you, fast asleep and easily corruptible.

“Just look at how beautiful you are when you sleep. All mine and ready for the taking,” the mysterious voice mumbled as its owner made herself close to the bed. She undressed herself with another flick until her clothes were properly folded over the nearby desk. Leaving the children sleeping peacefully at home, Wanda wandered off to find you. “I was trying to make this special for us, but you left me no choice. Now you’ll have to pay the price. If only you could’ve done what mommy said then none of this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe I should teach you a lesson and hurt that Romanoff girl. Would you learn then, baby, that you’re all mine?”

Wanda took her time to use her magic and bind your wrists to the headboard. She had yet to wake you up, instead settling on the bed and between your legs. Her hands found themselves roaming all across your body. She had seen you naked before various times, especially when using her magic long before your arrival to town and watched as you hopped in the shower to sneak a hand between your legs. She was quite the fan of seeing you turn into a mess while she watched without your knowledge.

Sharp nails dug upon your skin before moving down. They left angry trail tracks running upon your chest. They were deep enough to draw small bouts of blood which she happily leaned in to lick clean. Seeing you in pain, writhing in your sleep while she marked your frail little body, was something making Wanda’s heart swell.

“Time for you to wake up,” she said. Fingers went near your forehead before your eyes widened. You were awakened forcefully, fear immediately striking down your being. It wasn’t long before Wanda used her magic to dumb you down once again, the effects of the poised apple mixing with her powers. “Good morning, sleeping beauty. It’s time for us to have some fun.”

“What?” you grumbled while on the bridge between your own consciousness and Wanda’s.

The woman held down your hips and pushed her hips forward enough to let you feel her little secret. While your tattoo burned bright red, so did the dildo nestled between her legs. She let its tip glide up and down your slit, the strap-on growing wet with your juices and spreading against your folds. The mere sight made her groan with arousal.

The redhead urged herself forth. Soon enough, the toy stretched your hole apart, making you moan while making eye-contact with eyes which dripped with bloodlust. Even if she couldn’t feel it, Wanda knew you were a tight, needy mess for her. She drove herself inside far enough to have the head touch your depths, the entire thing being covered inside your cunt in one swift movement.

“Don’t worry pup, it won’t hurt at all. Just let mommy use you, alright? It’s what you’ve wanted ever since you came to me huh? You just needed someone to use you like the cute little fucktoy you are,” Wanda maniacally huffed out. “Mommy’s here now, no need to keep worrying. Let me make your thoughts all mine. You won’t have to think about anything else from now on.”

“W-wanda?”

“Shhh don’t overexert yourself, honey. It’s not good for you. I can tell you’re exhausted. Close your eyes for me. Let mommy use you while you get some good sleep,” Wanda whispered, her lips running up your skin. Teeth grazed every inch before coming down to nip the softness beneath. “Did you like the apple mommy gave you? It made your brain all fussy, didn’t it? It’s just what I wanted. Sometimes my pretty girl needs to take a step back and let mommy help. You want me to make your cute pussy feel good, right?”

“Yes,” you hazily replied. It was difficult to keep your eyes open as you slowly drifted closer to sleep. Your pussy throbbed at the feeling of Wanda moving deep inside you, the dildo attached to her hips being much larger than anything you had ever taken. Even with the mix of pain and pleasure you felt, you didn’t dare complain. “Harder.”

“You want it harder, buttercup? Oh my. Does my dumb baby need mommy to fuck her pussy with my cock?” She was more than happy to hear that hushed plea. “I bet no one’s ever filled you up like this. I’ll ruin this cunt, my fucking property, for anyone else. Not even that Romanoff slut will get to touch you. You’re my little bitch.”

“Yours,” you lazily replied.

“That’s right, Y/N. Mommy’s fleshlight, all happy to be fucked like a whore. After I’m done with you,” she leaned in dangerously close, “you’re going to be an obedient little pet. I can’t wait for you to cum all over my cock. Your cunt is all mine now for the taking.”

Wanda spent countless hours driving the dildo in and out of you. She noticed a bulge appearing each time she went deeper, smirking with pride whenever pushing down on it. You were far too hazy, your mind a mess while laying down and taking whatever she gave you. The tattoo over your skin, the proof of ownership from your master, intensified the lustful feelings hiding inside you.

Fingers gripped your breasts until you cried out in pain. You’d be lucky if your sounds didn’t awaken the entire town, let alone the tristate area. Wanda didn’t care though. If she got caught, everyone would get to see who your owner was. They’d see the stupid, dumbed down little whore she could turn you into without much effort.

“What are you-” you muttered when gaining a bit of lucidity, still coming on and off from Wanda’s strong grasp. Even with your failed attempts to push her off, she continued fucking you with her faux cock.

“I don’t think you want to do that, honey. I could have the entire town here in minutes. Do you want them to see your slutty little body being fucked hard by mommy?” Wanda questioned with raised eyebrows, waiting until you shook your head lazily. “Good. Then shut up and take it. This will be our little secret if you behave.”

“Yes, mommy.”

She did not care when you were driven near the edge. Wanda slapped your breast, nails grazing the mounds and leaving scratches behind. It was a hellish momentum which you could not willingly rid yourself off, but admittedly so, you didn’t want to. You loved the way she rolled her hips, your own moving rhythmically. Each little tug against the magical bindings made a burning sensation shoot down your body. That was enough pain to make you hum with approval.

The sole mistake you made while Wanda writhed on top of you was coming undone without permission. You allowed your eyes to close, exhaustion sliding in, as the knot inside you was finally loosened. Wanda eyed you with fury, viridescent orbs turning bright red as she roared. After a much-deserved slap landed over your face, she huffed.

“You dumb slut. Who gave you permission to cum all over my cock. Stupid girl needs to learn some manners, huh? You always have to wait for mommy to order you around. That’s nonnegotiable, princess.” Wanda slid the strap-on out of you and for a moment you were disappointed at the sudden emptiness between your legs. She used her magic to make the makeshift cuffs around your wrist disappear, leaving red marks along your wrists, along with the dildo strapped to her hips. The way she tilted her head sadistically struck you with fear. “Turn around. I want you on your hands and knees, baby. You don’t get away with being a disobedient little bitch.”

“I’m so sorry, mommy,” you sobbed against the bed sheets, still making sure to follow directions so as to avoid any more anger from arising in her. “I didn’t mean to be bad. It just felt too good. I didn’t know what to do.”

Wanda ignored your apology and instead waited for you to get in position. When your ass was up and ready for the taking, your face still hidden over the mess of pillows by the head of the bed, she found herself to be satisfied enough to continue.

A hand found itself striking down on your backside without notice. She hummed, face lacking emotions before hitting you again with the back of her hand. The actions were carried out over and over again. With hotness shooting across your frame, you felt your cunt practically begging to be touched. Juices ran down your inner thighs all slick and shiny underneath the moonlight.

“Stop squirming. I was very clear with my order’s, wasn’t I? Now stay still and let mommy give you the punishment you deserve.” Wanda remained smacking you until she was satisfied. Your cheeks were red and sore, almost turning to a dark hue the more she torture you. The one moment which she dared stop her attacks was when you allowed yourself to breathe, body sagging while your sweat profusely with fear. “Did you know apples mature very slowly? I grew tired of being alone when enticing this universe. No one knew who I, the Scarlet Witch herself, was. They all forgot about their stupid little heroic past selves and knelt to me, their rightful ruler. I figured that until you had my boys, I had to make preparations. There are over twenty varieties in my garden, just like there are many more of you. Now you better behave, be a good girl and take what mommy gives you, taste my forbidden fruit. Unless, of course, you’d like to be replaced. That can always be arranged.”

“I’ll be your good toy, I promise. I swear I’ll do whatever you ask of me. Just please, don’t hurt me,” you begged.

“Oh but baby, don’t you know? I fucking love hurting you.”

Your cunt was dripping with juices when Wanda smacked it with the palm of her hand. She wasn’t soft by any means, instead hitting you, fingers brushing against your clit from time to time, until you desperately craved more. Each attack made you grow wetter. At one point you began grinding down on her hand each time it touched you. Turning you into a brainless little whore was her greatest pleasure in life.

“Such a cute fuckable puppy. All for mommy to ruin,” she grinned before giving you one last slap for good measure. “I must say you’re taking this all so well. Who knew my baby would enjoy her punishments? It’s adorable.”

“Anything for you- ah!”

Wanda did not allow you to speak. Instead she eased a pair of fingers in you, letting out a throaty moan as she felt your walls clench around her. You were far too soaked allowing her to dive in deep without any issues. She could feel how you throbbed against her digits, your velvety insides practically begging for more.

The craving sensation inside her, a monster who had to be sated, ran rampant. Wanda felt alive as she brought a third finger inside you, spreading you apart further while you clutched the white sheets in torment. It was dirty and animalistic, your body swallowing the witch with gluttony. You couldn’t remember anything but her. Always in your mind and always would be.

“Now you can cum, darling. Go on and put on a little show for mommy,” Wanda snarled as she curled her fingers up inside you.

An all-consuming orgasm took over your being. Your mind, body, and soul were all wrapped around in it, finally being brought peace and piercing pleasure you so desired. Wanda’s free hand was on your body, gripping one of your sore cheeks with might until her sharp nails drew blood. As she had wished, you had crumbled at her feet.

She kept ramming her digits inside you until you’d had enough. When being taken out they weren’t plopped in her own mouth, instead your own. Lips lightly sucked on the fingers as you tasted your own essence. It was sweet and savory. Your eyes were barely open, your body having been turned so you could stare down at Wanda who hovered from above you. As wicked as you knew she was, her mere appearance underneath the blanket of the night was one of an angelic figure.

“You did so well for me, Y/N. Just look at how happy you’ve made mommy. I can’t even tell you how proud I am of you, pretty girl,” Wanda said as she pulled her fingers from between your lips. She cupped your face tenderly, smiling sweetly at the tired little eyes which looked back. “Seeing you all fucked up for me has made mommy really wet. All you have to do is make it better, okay? Then I’ll finally let you rest for a bit. I know you can do it.”

“Always, mommy,” you whispered back – lips were cracked as your body was ready to shut down and yet you had a drive which forced you to please her. “Let me make you feel better, please.”

“Hmm there’s my good girl.”

Wanda crawled up your body, but not before planting a kiss upon your lips. She praised you for your willingness to please then allowed herself to straddle your face. Even with a blurry eyesight ready to give up, you could see wet juices that coated her needy pussy. Licking your lips, you stared up with hunger ready to eat her whole.

The first taste of Wanda was unlike anything else you’d had the pleasure to try before. She lowered herself over your mouth and allowed you to feel her arousal up close. Folds were sloppily spread apart as you ran your tongue through them, groaning at the ecstasy overcoming you.

“You look beautiful with a mouthful of my pussy, angel. And your tongue feels so fucking good,” she swallowed her pride and mewled, “Come on, Y/N. I’m not close. Be good and make mommy cum all over your stupid mouth.”

You spent heated moments eating her out. Your body shifted underneath her while the older woman grinded over your face. She grabbed the headboard for support. Each little thrust brought her pussy down closer to your lips which devoured her greedily. With your hands finding themselves holding her thighs open, you turned Wanda into a mess mirroring your own ragged, fucked up body.

“Just like that, baby. Keep going. Fuck, that feels amazing. I’ll have to give you a reward for making my pussy feel so good,” Wanda chuckled in disbelief. She had never felt such an intense pleasure in her life. Even the way your nails dug over her skin made her arousal shoot through the sky. “I’m c- fuck! Puppy, I’m cumming!”

Your face was left coated with a mess of her juices as Wanda caught her breath. She was tired, exhaustion mirroring your own setting in. it was hard to move herself from your face knowing how glorious she felt with your mouth pressed between her legs. The previous vexation she had experienced was replaced with relief.

Wanda did not hesitate to show off her caring side only when around you. Albeit worn out, she grabbed you from the bed, picking up your weary body before dragging you to the bathroom. There she was quick to run a shower for the two of you. Knowing it would be impossible for you to stand without help, mind blank and eyes closing, she held onto you while running soap all over your decayed skin.

Kisses were dropped along your body as you were taken from the shower. The softness exuding from Wanda was startling to say the least. She had spent tedious, painful years without you by her side. Surely her twins soothed the empty hole in her heart, but without you, there was no family. Having them unknowingly bring you to her was a risky yet fulfilling choice she made.

“I love you so much, baby. You have no idea how much I’ve missed this,” Wanda breathed out as she hugged your wet frame from behind. She sighed with relief and grabbed a towel to dry you both up. She’d finally gotten her happy ending. “You’ve been such a good girl for mommy. I’m always so proud of you. Don’t worry, you’re home safe now. I will never let anyone hurt you again. We’ll be so happy here, I promise.”

“Thank you,” you replied. There was no way of knowing whether the effects of the apple had worn out and you were lucid enough to form a coherent sentence or if she still controlled your mind. All you knew is that a sudden burst of adoration for her began soaking your heart. You held Wanda close, not caring if you were naked in the middle of the bathroom, and hugged her with tears in your eyes – it was a mixture of your overwhelming emotions and the enticing pain on you. “I love you too, mommy. Always.”

The night was filled with the remembrance of an old life you’d lived. While you remained in her arms, Wanda held you out of fear of losing you once again. The darkness that exuded from her being, finally falling into her role as Scarlet Witch, did not go lost when she pulled you into the bed. She was flustered, a vision of her past-self, an innocent Sokovian girl who found herself siding with the Avengers to save the world, was clear as day for a moment. Shame filled her features when she ran her fingers down your mutilated thighs, the tips finding the womb tattoo she had gifted you with.

She cupped her face and for a moment, you swore you were back in her universe. You gained clarity, mind coming to terms with the recent events as you place a hand above her own. Wanda was broken, tears filling her eyes as she allowed herself to be weak for once, to be vulnerable before her star-crossed lover’s appearance.

“We’ll be together forever. I’m never letting you go again,” she murmured, her lips shining down upon yours. It was the first time during those weeks she was the slightest bit tender with you, while laying in bed, legs all interlaced with her dragging you on top, you knew you were home. “Kiss me.”

You spent what felt like hours devouring one another. Your brain was still woozy, mind overtaken by Wanda who made you hers over and over. Her nipples brushed against your own, skins slapping as you turned to one. There was no need to fight for dominance as Wanda would come out on top, groaning as she slipped her tongue between your lips.

“Come here, honey. It’s time for us to sleep,” Wanda whispered as she dragged your face to her chest. She guided you until your mouth brushed against one of her nipples. Curiously eyeing up at her with big, doe eyes made her smirk. “Go on, baby. You can suck. I remember you loved doing that with mommy. It was your favorite reward of them all.”

Latching onto her nipple felt natural. Wanda sighed with relief, beaming as she got to feel the happiness experienced in her previous universe. She spent years seeking you out after fighting Thanos. He had taken everything from her – her happiness, her love, and you. She was not proud of herself, of having succumbed to the Darkhold while taking the life of a rather powerful girl to gain her abilities. Bringing those fallen behind had soothed her grief. After all, Natasha and Tony had forever been part of the team she once called a family.

You sucked on her nipple for countless hours. A hand came to play with your hair, fingers drifting soothingly upon your scalp as your eye began closing once and for all. Wanda hummed quietly to a tune you found oddly familiar. While on the run after Germany, she always did love holding you close and whispering sweet Sokovian lullabies until you eventually succumbed to rest.

“Missed you,” you grumbled all tired and ready to fall asleep. You were barely conscious when she turned around with confusion over her features.

There were dreams you’d had which you didn’t know she’d tainted. For decades Wanda had found herself in that universe waiting for you to come to her. She was patient, a feline creature waiting for her prey to be vulnerable enough for the taking. Eyeing you happily, she found herself prouder than ever.

“Hey, look at me,” Wanda raised her eyebrows before roughly grabbing your chin. She pulled you from her nipple, eyes turning red as a sudden jolt of adrenaline shot through her. “You’ll be mommy’s good girl forever, won’t you.”

No hesitation was required for you to give your answer. Even with your jaw all sore, dry tear tracks adorning your flushed cheeks underneath the moonlight, you replied with a choked “Yes.”

For Wanda, that was enough to seal your fate without daring to look back at your previous freedom.

[toxicanonymity]

No hard feelings

Joel miller x f!reader | 1.3k words I8+ MDNI. 1980 AU, you're a college student and have car trouble. Joel offers help, if he gets to take pics of you. Sleaze/creep, touching, pet names. Big ty to aly @iamasaddie for her 24 hr fic challenge (which had these pics) even if this doesn't fit the challenge due to length and not signing up lmao it still inspired me. I saw it last night when I read aly's hot fic, Feelings are a lot of work ❤️‍🔥❤️.

When your car broke down on a remote stretch away from campus, your face was dewy and your thighs stuck to the leather seat. You got out in your daisy dukes and thin white tee and popped the hood. You were bent over, looking at the smoking engine, when you heard a truck and looked back to see a faded yellow F-100 kicking up dust as it rolled to a stop. You tried to pull your shorts down enough to cover your ass cheeks as a man exited the truck in jeans and a teal polo with the collar all wonky. His salt and pepper hair was sweaty, and he held a cowboy hat to his chest.

“Miss,” he nodded. “Mind if I take a look?”

You agreed, and he put his hat on.

. . .

When he was done, he offered, “I could get ya fixed up long enough to get ya to the service station.”

“Thank you,” you gushed. “Thank you so much, really.”

“Oh I ain’t doin’ it for free, sugar,” he laughed darkly and your face fell.

“Alright,” you mumbled to the ground, then looked him in the eye. “Thanks for taking a look anyway.”

He looked you up and down and gave a low whistle. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

You crossed your arms, temporarily obscuring the view of your nipples poking through the worn cotton.

“Tell ya what,” he offered. “I’mma get ya fixed up here, then you’re gonna lemme take some pictures of ya.”

“You said go straight to the station.”

“Oh we can do it right here, sugar. Got my camera’n all,” he nodded toward his truck. “Whaddya say?”

“Alright,” you agreed, without any other options. No other cars had driven by in the time since he’d been there. He nodded, put on his cowboy hat, then put a toothpick in his mouth. “Wait in the truck if ya wan’t. Grab me a beer. One for you too.”

At least the beer was cold.

You didn't wait in his truck, you lowered the tailgate of the bed of his truck and sat there with your legs dangling off the back, watching him work.

—--

Sweat blotched his polo with darker patches until he stopped, took off his hat and dabbed his forehead with his arm. Then, as he pulled the polo over his head, that’s when you recognized him.

He put his cowboy hat back on, turned around, balled up his sweaty shirt, and threw it at you. “Grab me another beer, darlin’. Almost done here.”

You'd seen that broad back before, and his padded stomach that didn’t quite hide his strong abdomen.

As you handed him a lukewarm Coors light, you asked, “Don’t you work on campus at UT?”

“Heh,” he chuckled. “Recognize me?” He brazenly studied your tits, looking back and forth at them, then your mouth.

“Guess so,” you agreed.

“Soon as I took my shirt off, huh?” He gave you a wink then went back to working on your car.

Yeah, his physique was what caught your eye on campus. He was a janitor and he wore a gray jumpsuit. One day when you were walking home from class, he must’ve been on break, because he was leaned up against a maintenance vehicle with his jumpsuit hanging down, sleeves tied around his waist, brown skin glistening in the sun, having a cigarette. He turned his head to watch you walk by and gave you a small nod, then raised his eyebrows as a he took a drag. Then he stomped his cigarette out and turned around. You ogled his muscular back, and he looked over his shoulder and caught you.

. . .

When he finished working on your car, the sun was glaring as it approached the horizon. He put his wrinkled shirt back on, stowed some tools in his truck, and came back with a Polaroid camera hanging from his neck.

“Right there’s good,” he muttered with you still sitting on the bed of the truck

You fidgeted with your clothes and crossed your knees and he snapped a pic. The camera whirred and he took out the pic, waved it through the air, then slipped it into the breast pocket of his wrinkled shirt.

“Alright, now you’re gonna be a good girl for me,” he informed you. “And y’ain’t gonna be a prude about it ether.”

Your gut twisted, but at the same time, your pussy throbbed at his commands.

“What?” You asked.

His voice became low and gravely. “We’re gonna pull that shirt up’n lemme see those titties.”

You took a deep breath, and in the time you took to hesitate, he stepped into your personal space. “Uncross those pretty stems, darlin’.”

You obediently uncrossed your legs, and he spread your knees gently with his dirty hands as he got close enough for you to smell the beer on his breath, the stench of his sweat, and the memory of cigarettes.

Getting wet with your knees spread, you were glad to provide the distraction of showing your tits.

“Lift your arms," he directed.

You did, and he gently slid his thick, grubby fingers under the sides of your shirt. He lifted the shirt and let out a low whistle as your tits fell out. “Well God damn, even prettier than I thought.” You braced your hands behind you and watched his face as you let him have a look. It was hot to think of him jacking off to these photos later.

He glanced to your eyes and you didn’t stop him from nudging the bottom of your breasts with his thumbs, watching them swell upward.

“God damn,” he whispered. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sugar.”

After snapping a pic, he directed you in a couple of poses for more pics, then stood and looked you up and down.

“One more. You’re gonna show me your panties.”

What panties? God, by this point you were so wet, the crotch of your jeans had to be soaked through.

“No panties, huh?” He asked. “Well, lemme see your bush.”

When you hesitated, he comforted you, “That’s okay, darlin’. Sorry, you’re just so damn pretty.”

But you weren't off the hook.

“One more thing, okay? Bring those pretty legs up, put your feet on the truck,” he patted the tailgate.

You did as he instructed and could smell your own arousal. He inhaled sharply through his nose as he looked between your legs and raised his eyebrows.

You looked down and away.

“Here,” he offered and put his cowboy hat on you. “Hide your face if it makes ya feel better.”

It did, a little.

He took a pic with the hat tipped down, covering your face, shirt still pulled up over your tits, legs spread wide, and a wet mess peeking out from behind the darkened crotch of your shorts.

“Smell good enough to eat,” he mumbled as he slipped the photo in his pocket and got in your personal space. “Mind if I take some for the road?”

“What?” You asked

He slid his hand up your thigh and nudged the soaked denim aside. Your skin erupted in goosebumps and your loins throbbed with need.

“Your hands are dirty,” you said.

“Shhhh, It’s okay, sugar,” he coaxed you as his fingers met your slick. He lightly ran his digits through your sticky mess, then deep growl left his chest as he slid a finger inside, making you spasm. His mouth fell open as he added another. “God damn,” he whispered.

Headlights approached in the distance, shaking him from his trance.

“Hey, you know my name?” he asked as he withdrew his hand, fingers all shiny. You put your legs back together and hopped down off the truck.

“How would I know your name,” you asked, trying not to look at the bulge in his jeans.

He closed the tailgate.

“Well it’s on my uniform, darlin’.” He looked hurt. “See me all the time, even said hi once.”

“Sorry.”

“Eh, no hard feelings. Name’s Joel Miller.”

You shared your first name, and he nodded as he added your last name and said, “yeah, I know, sugar.” He turned and walked away, leaving his hat with you.

Your heart raced, and when he got in his truck, you half expected him to return with a shotgun and take you with him. But he drove off into the sunset, dust trailing behind him.

-------

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btw you must have seen him on campus before he got this hot new uniform

Thank you for reading! If you say what you liked (or Lbr if you say anything lmao) you'll make my day ❤️

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

I know plenty of people have already made a version of the "Jinx is alive" theory post but I've also seen so many of you mourn her death that I decided to gather all the evidence and make another post, turning this theory into a fact.

Because Jinx is alive. It's not a speculation. It's literally there.

The first thing I'm going to mention are the context clues Jinx gives herself. First, the last thing the ghost of Silco tells her. I think the cycle only ends when you find the will to walk away. Then, the realization she comes to when Vi hugs her in the cell. You're never gonna give up on me, are you? What she tells Vi after she leaves her in that cell. You don't need to worry about me anymore. [...] And yes, her initial plan is to kill herself, because she thinks the only way for Vi to move on is for her to be gone. And Ekko gets there just in time to stop her but it looks like he doesn't convince her to abandon her plan, just change it.

And later, when she joins Vi in the final fight. What does she tell her? Still don't get it, huh, sis? I'm always with you. Even when we're worlds apart.

Everything that happens after is constructed specifically to let us and Vi believe that Jinx died. Until we get to this scene:

Caitlyn is studying the Hexgates designs.

She's looking through the pages depicting the place where the final fight happened, specifically focusing on the air vent shafts, while toying with a monkey bomb head - the same monkey bomb that Jinx used in her supposed last monents.

She looks down at the monkey...

Watch the eyes. The realization hits her...

And she smirks, knowing. Jinx used one of the air vents to escape before the explosion.

I've studied the explosion frame by frame. First, a small yellow explosion goes off - Jinx sets off the monkey bomb.

As it becomes bigger, she shoots out of there

this is still the beginning of the blast when we can still see her, and the big boom that destroys everything starts 10 frames later

Last context clue is a reference to the very first episode, which is clearly depicted in this gifset here, so instead of explaining, I'll just send you there to check for yourselves.

One thing that is speculation here is, how exactly did Caitlyn come into possession of the monkey bomb head? I doubt she found it there because it would have been turned to dust. And I'm thinking, Jinx took it with her and left it for Cait to find as a clue. She didn't want Vi to know but maybe she wanted Cait to figure it out. I imagine her sneaking into her house and maybe leaving it somewhere for Cait to find, like her desk or something. It gives Cait an idea, a gut feeling she needs to check, and that allows her to figure it out. Just like we are supposed to figure it out on our own.

Bottom line, Jinx is alive. She escaped the explosion through the air vents, then boarded the airship and left the city, convinced that the only way to give her sister a happy ending is to take herself out of the equation. The glitching closing shot saying The End in Jinx's colorful handwriting is a sign that she is telling us that this is where this story ends, like she's saying "don't look for me. It's over." That's also probably why we aren't shown what Caitlyn does with the information she now possesses.

I hope this helps take away from the grief 💙