Wanda Vision Fanart Novels & Stories

“Do you remember Wanda?” He pauses, his fingers freezing mid-motion. “Wanda?” he repeats, the name falling flat, unfamiliar. I nod, forcing the word past the tightness in my throat. “Yes. She was your Luna.” He hums softly, distracted. “Was she?” I study his face, searching for any flicker of recognition but there is nothing. Not even confusion. Just a vague, polite curiosity. “She had brown hair. Curly, long and she is the pack doctor for the Northlands.”

Millie's heart stopped. Stefan and Wanda were upstairs. At that moment, the door to the private room opened, and Wanda emerged. She looked down at Millie with a glint of provocation in her eyes. Behind her, Stefan draped a jacket over her shoulders. She immediately put on a gentle demeanor. "Stefan, I like this one. You know how much of my soul I've been pouring into fashion these days. I need one of Elara Voss' works." "She would be honored that you like her art."

Her gaze was calm and certain. "Don't worry," Wanda said quietly. "There will be plenty of people coming here in the future." "Yeah," Paisley replied, her pheromones perfectly steady. She knew some things just needed to be left to time. As Wanda left, she walked past Sandra with her back completely straight. But after taking a few steps toward the gates, she kept looking back, tears shimmering in her eyes. Her wolf let out a silent, sorrowful whine, as if bidding farewell to an unexpected but unforgettable chapter of her life.

It was Pandora in her full beauty, I was shocked how fast the shift happened. Pandora shook out her fur turned towards Vivian, who was still shifting. I could see blonde fur spouting from her skin. It was the same color of Vivian’s hair, just Nova/Pandora. Once Cosima was in full wolf she stood and was a beautiful wolf. Just not as beautiful as my girl, who outshines anyone. Cosima has a dark crescent moon symbol on her forehead that was glowing. I heard Nash gasp and whisper, “Beautiful.”

Wanda’s fingers gently fidgeted as she continued coldly, “If you don’t listen to me, I’ll lay my hands on Nathan Langley instead. It’s easy for me to poison him if I want to.” Eva lost her last strand of reason at this point. Why did Wanda have to do this?! The veins on her head throbbed, and she felt like she could hardly breathe. She clenched her fists tight, and her fingers dug deep into her palms, which hurt her intensely. However, Eva ignored the pain. Her tears streamed down her face as she was enveloped by layers upon layers of fear and despair. What would happen to her and the children if anything happened to Nathan?

"Come on, Nate, I understand you're upset, but seriously? I didn't mean to do it. Plus, who would value such simple paintings at a million? Who are you trying to fool?" Cameron gripped Fenna's hand tightly, frustration evident in his grip. "Fenna, this is too much. Wanda is a well-known philanthropic artist in Sunterland—Inkwell. "Her top-selling painting went for tens of millions at auction and is showcased in museums. Why would you damage her artwork?" Fenna's expression shifted instantly to seriousness, her voice trembling as she responded, "What? A philanthropic artist in Sunterland? How can a painting fetch tens of millions? Cam, are you crazy?"

He always seemed so shocked and amazed by anything that transpired in their world even if caused by a creature from theirs, that she wondered how long he had actually been studying to be a Lore Master. Wanda sat in a chair across from Tansy, her own hands wrapped around a chipped ceramic tea cup as she stared into the dark liquid. She gnawed on her bottom lip, her eyes bunched together as she struggled to come up with a reason for what happened, while never taking her gaze too far off the leader of the Cauldron Coven. Wanda would not suffer another bout of whatever took Tansy the first time, feeling as if she failed the younger woman by not recognizing what was happening.

Gently, he took her hand in his, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a soothing motion. “Wanda,” Anderson began softly, his voice filled with concern. “You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here for you… if you need anything, please just tell me.” Wanda looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and pain. She felt a lump form in her throat as she tried to speak, her voice barely a whisper. “Thank you, Anderson,” she murmured, tears brimming in her eyes again. “I just… I feel so lost. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Wanda was a vision of breathtaking grace, her purple, form-fitting dress clinging to her body and highlighting every perfect curve. She carried the air of a classic femme fatale, her beauty surging forward like a tidal wave. Wanda's alluring crimson lips and captivating smile proved to be a formidable distraction, even for someone as disciplined as Ashton.