#so toodles toodles ^v^

[keeps-ache]

sittin' kitten :3

[flwoie]

susisuhsuishisushusihsius

[applebottomjeans2345]

Today my top 3 self care activities are:

1)play the guitar

2)meditate

3) take a 90 minute nap

And I want to try to get 2/3 activities done before I leave the house for classes. My guitar is in my apt living room and I have some meditation stuff saved on YouTube to try out so if that’s what I’ll do!!! I’ll nap after class lmfao in the library or sumn

[lordsukunas]

everytime i’m reminded that isagi likes thighs my day gets a lil brighter

he’s had a long day? he’s coming over to your place and dropping his head in your lap. your thighs are soft and squishy, like marshmallows. it’s even better if you have muscular thighs — the feeling of the muscles flexing beneath his head is absolutely addictive. he could stay there all day.

and he does. you have to remind him that you can’t sleep over, and isagi looks up at you with the saddest, biggest puppy-dog eyes ever. “my parents won’t mind if you stay for a li’l longer, i swear. i already asked them!”

his fascination with your thighs get even worse when he comes back from blue lock. the pillows there are fine, decent, really. they do the job, but they’re thin slabs of cement in comparison to the delicious plushness of your thighs. after he gets home and greets his parents, he’s already texting you, begging for you to come over.

12:09 p.m — r u busy?

12:11 p.m. — can u come over? pls 🙏🏻

as soon as you get in the house, he’s dragging you to his room, making sure you’re comfortable, and then wrapping his arms around your thighs and nuzzling his face against them.

isagi could be sweaty, hungry, absolutely exhausted from training or studies, and he’ll still find time to lay his head in your lap. your thighs are one of his favorite parts of you, and he’ll never let you forget it.

☆ ... notes:

first time writing for a bllk boy </3 so if this is ooc, sorry. im also not caught up on the manga :V didnt do fancy format for this bc short, but lmk if yall like it. anyways, hope yall enjoyed, toodles!! :33

[maveras-posts]

Funky ART HC’S

Some ✨FUNKY✨ Art Headcanons:

This fucker has IBS I mean he shat his brains out (I feel his pain ngl🤡)

It’s a trade off to being ✨ImmOrTal✨

(Shi at least he has SOMETHING, I got NOTHING)

Art can also play the Kazoo at the professional level

You’ll be running from him and he’s doing the Gangnam style whilst ✨KaZoo✨ is in his mouth 😭

Also Penny, Jack and Art are besties the iconic trio we didn’t know we needed frfr

They try to force him to take a bath😭

He’s like a hissing cat

Art actually is good at keeping generally good hygiene but it has to be on his ✨OwN TeRmS✨

Also is a major pothead I don’t make the rules

Also he smells like nickels (it just seems fitting)

Honestly Satan has a hold on him and it only got worse after Art witnessed what he was contributing to

I feel like after the events of All Hallows Eve he descended more into madness

He has a short attention span you gotta *jingle jingle*

It’s all one big comedy to him, it’s all organized chaos🤪

Hes also obsessed with any and all popcorn he has tried every flavor at least once

Art also has a Dr Pepper ✨PrObLem✨

Like fr he will drop kick a child for one, he’s a fiend

Art also hopes somebody would try to mug him, he wants any chance to uno reverse with his ✨Mouse Ka Tool✨

SO…. Art the clown has taken this page by storm, I have to keep giving the ppl what they want. I never realized how many fans there are of Terrifier. I shall continue to write more slasher content as the spooky season progresses. Also I’m gonna go watch Terrifier 3 to get more ✨ConTent✨ also might show my Art cosplay here someday…anyways… TOODLES

Mavera (V)

[spacebubblehomebase]

Not art this time but...

Headcanon: Lucifer visits Earth every decade or so as a part of his job as the ruler of Hell. He does it to learn about new sins as "subtly" as he could.

Lucifer: What is ray-sings-sims? Raising-sims? Raisins? Rain-Race-sin? R-Racisms? YES! That! Is it the one where people hate on the opposite sex for absolutely no reason even though humans were all made of the same cosmic dust?

Black woman: (Looking amused at the most stereotypical rich white guy she's ever met asking about sexism and racism.)

Lucifer: Yeah. This cocaine thing is doing absolutely nothing for me. I don't really get it, but this is a sin too. So marking that off the list! Thanks for letting me have a go at this, uh, Mr. Dealer? That's your last name, right? Oh man. I'm really bad at remembering names, but have this as a token of my appreciation. (Gives him a thousand dollars which is basically worth even more at the time.)

Drug dealer: (Gobsmacked the guy was still able to keep walking after practically inhaling every drug in existence back then in one go.)

Lucifer: So this, um, cult thing? How did it get assigned to our department again? It sounds just like what Heaven does to me. Huh. Ah well. I guess I'll just roll with it like everyone else here. (Shrugs.) Yay, cult! Sooo do I get to keep the robe? It's kinda comfy- Aw wait there's murder? One died a-and another... Oh... OH... Ooooh boy. Oof. Yikes... So this means I can DEFINITELY keep the robe, right?

Lucifer: Ah yes. Burning the witch. Time to list down all the sorry souls who threw their life into the flame by believing in the occult arts. (Lists down everyone in the crowd who burned said "witch.") And as for Ms. Agnes The Witch here... Hmm. Well, that's for Heaven to worry about! Toodles~! Or, uh, Tickety-Boo!

(Needless to say, dear Luci has been an accidental charmer back on Earth. ^v^ Specially to sinners and people who were just unjustly treated during those times. He just had to see what every sin was for himself and try them out from time to time, but he didn't know he's been perceived as acting with the manners and traditions he gathered from the LAST decade he was on Earth so to everyone who's long gone pass those times, he comes off as a polite old-school rich white man. Naive yet surprisingly non-judgemental.)

-Bubbly💙

[scytheaudio]

So I re-listened to the redding again and this thought popped into my mind witch was

"What if everyone who got to stay alive long enough to feel every bit of pain the maverick brings to them before they die have nightmares about the event but it's such a vague nightmare that when they wake up they don't fully understand why they are so scared."

What i mean by "stay alive long enough to feel every bit of pain the maverick brings to them." I mean, like sparkils who literally got bites taken out of them where Cheeky got her heart ripped out of her chest. So the people who didn't die almost immediately keeps having these nightmares

Not positive why this popped into my head, but like wouldn't that be fucked up? Maybe it's the Halloween angst taking over me, lol

it's a cool idea! I do imagine and plan to do little hints in the future...such as cole singing twinkle twinkle little star and marcus complaining that its giving him a headache...or V saying that hearing the word maverick makes his stomach ache....

Tis a beautifully wicked thought!

Just remember that thinking about/fearing the maverick gives him strength

Toodles!

[apollodarling-writes]

Since I’m 50% a sadistic freak. I was thinking. After us rejecting Levi and such and him just wanting us. One day we walk into his office and up to him. He kinda confused because we always avoid him now. But we grab him and kiss him. Big ole smooch on his mouf. We grab his face and caress his neck. Then after a second we pull away and are like. “ Sorry just wanted to confirm my feelings for you. They remain the same. There are none. Well toodles Levi thanks for the help 😘” blowing him a kiss and walking back to the door.

oooo i like this idea. this is also gonna be in Levi's POV

cw: Levi is plotting murder in his head, slight sexual themes, Levi being whipped for you, Levi gets a lil carried away, Levi's thoughts abt you... its v disturbing,

The short man sat in his office twirling a pen in his fingertips, eyes hardened and narrowed, eyebrows furrowed, and his lips set into a pout. You were still avoiding him. Did you still think that he wouldn't act on his promises? It was a ridiculous thought, but who knows what goes on in your head.

After the unfortunate passing of Erwin and a few bold Cadets that he couldn't remember the names of, he was sure you'd know by now. Surely you did. You were just being stubborn, seeing how far you could push him- how far his patience would go...

He'd have to put an end to this rebellious streak of yours. He'd have to go for someone close to you this time. Someone that means the world to you... Armin Arlert. The two of you are rather close. A bit too close if you'd ask him. It would be two birds with one stone, really. He'd be sending a message to you and squashing another pest.

Levi was doing all of this for you, really. The world is dangerous and filled to the brim with filth, he was just cleaning it up for you- protecting you... That's what he told himself. Levi knew (deep, deep down) he was just as dangerous, if not more so, than everyone else. He'd had sinister intentions since he was just a boy and was well-versed in combat and any weapon- no thanks to Kenny and growing up in the Underground. He was well aware.

But Levi was a selfish, selfish man. He knew you'd be better off with someone who had a healthy mindset. He knew you deserved better than him, but he couldn't let you. He couldn't let anyone else have you- love you. It would kill him. Just thinking about it made him feel like he couldn't breathe, so Levi would settle for eliminating any nuisance and competition. He would break you into submission and ruin you, and then build you back up.

Ending those thoughts there, he returns to plotting yet another murder. Half-heartedly signing papers, he wonders what he should do this time. Maybe he could leave Armin's body on your bed after stitching up his chest, and place the boy's heart all nice and tidy in a pretty box for you. Force someone to write you a note, warning you who would be next should you continue to disregard his warnings and his love for you. Yes, that would do nicely.

Approaching footsteps alert Levi of a presence as he sets his paperwork to the side, finally finished. The footsteps come to a halt just outside his office door, knocking once, twice, three times before swinging the door open. In the doorway stands you, disheveled and breathing heavily. Levi glances at his watch, the hands reading 2:37am. The man blinks a few times as you approach him (in your nightclothes) with a purpose, stopping a few inches from his seated form.

"[Name]? What's wrong? Did someon-"

You cut the man off, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, settling yourself in his lap, and pressing your lips against his heatedly. Levi immediately wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his firm chest, lips and tongue tangled with your own. His hands shift to your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh.

His eyes flutter beneath his lids, warmth filling his chest and heart soaring. You'd finally accepted him. You'd finally accepted him. You'd finally realized that his love knew no bounds and had chosen him. He wouldn't have to worry about the filth roaming these halls and the streets of the town.

Levi feels his pants begin to grow tighter and tighter, rocking your hips back and forth against his bulge ever so slowly. He'd take you here- Levi would take you in his office, screaming and crying his name so loud that everyone would know you belong to him and he to you. You were finally his.

Levi's head begins to feel light, hips bucking against your own, pressing himself as close to you as he could, wondering if you'd let him carve his name into your collarbone, marking you as his forever. Levi groans into your lips at the thought. Your fingers find refuge in his locks, tugging ever so slightly, kisses slowing to a stop as you begin to pull away.

The two of you gaze into each other's eyes, one filled with lust and love, and the other's unreadable. Levi releases a soft whine, shifting forward to kiss you again, drunk on the taste of your lips. Your hand presses against his chest, stopping him, then trailing up to his face, brushing over his skin. The pads of your fingers trace each feature, then shifts to Levi's neck, rubbing gentle circles as you observe him.

You sigh pitifully, murmuring, "Sorry, Captain. I wanted to see where my feelings for you stand. Seems as if nothing has changed."

Levi's jaw drops, expression crestfallen as you remove yourself from his lap, too heartbroken and stunned to reach for you as you make your way to the door again. You glance back at him once more, a smirk tugging at your lips, as you close the door to his office.

"[N-Name]..."

[beedoes-stuff]

please, please, please!

inspo:

and credit to @go-away-pls-now for inspiring this concept i flip flopped the roles though sorry

bonus + random + notes under the cut!!!

(drawing i did like a week ago that i didn’t like but looking at it now i do <3)

notes: this is a sabrina carpenter stan acc if u couldn’t tell btw. yea, cheeky could be attracted to normal ppl but the criminal is more fun! this was also super fun and frustrating and it’s taught me after that even after 3 years of watching the villain series drawing v doesn’t get any easier. especially the hair. emphasis on the hair. (so please please please have mercy on me) anyways, stream please please please by sabrina carpenter, toodles -bee

[circeyoru]

Hello- might I possibly ask for a alastor x reader where the reader is vox’s (or Val’s) little sister who hangs around the Vee’s but is completely seperate, like maybe this character is based more around audio and signals and looks normal compared to her brother vox?

What if the v’s sent her to the Hazbin hotel after sir pentious failed and instead of doing the job she needed to do she ends up finding comfort in a follow audio based demon, and vox checks in on her one night only to hear like- them making out or more.

(Love your writing dear! I hope your taking care of yourself as you write, if you do choose to do this make it your own as well :). )

~toodles!

Thanks for your compliment, reads and interest.

Regarding this request. NO. I do NOT write those things! The idea is good, but when I got to the end, it just rubbed me the wrong way and I lost all interest.

I have already mentioned this before. Check my rules!

And as I've said before, I will be closing request for a while since some people can't double-check with what I'm comfortable with.

It's a bit unfair since I'm working on two series that has been quite popular with you guys, and a number of people send me ideas and other stuff, so it's only strictly those that I'll read, others I'll just delete them without mention.

As for when I'm accepting new requests, I don't know... Maybe a long while. I have other request I have yet to touch too.

Sorry it has to come to this.

Check my MASTERLIST for the stories. The active series right now are {Unwanted Soul}, {Gone Too Young}, and {Collection of Overlords}.

[keeps-ache]

dearest persecutor

[sketches below]

[blackboxwarriorsbiggestfan]

I was pretty bored. What everyone's demon form is supposed to resemble! (Hellborns and Angels aren't included, so Arabella, Satan, "Sera", "Emily", and so forth aren't mentioned. Neither are my legitimate ocs)

Verity (..V. The fallen angel, ex exterminator, I'm not saying her name.): I'm honestly torn between a rain cloud, lightning bolt, or a ragdoll. Rain cloud and lightning bolt fit her personality more, but ragdoll works better for her backstory (always being treated as less than human, posed and played with like a toy but then thrown away whenever they're done, like cheap plastic)

Arackniss (Angel Dust); A spider (Still, but more specifically, a velvet spider/ladybird spider)

Laffy Taffy (Cherri Bomb): Candies! More specifically, something similar to https://pin.it/7a24ZT0A1 (credit to the artist!!), just with much brighter colors and a more punk-rock outfit)

Alastor: A radio. He literally has a radio for a head now.

This radio in specific

Nifty; A sewing needle. It's what she looks like in canon, it's now my canon

Wilter (Husk); Purple Hyacinth flowers. They symbolize regret, and I thought that was fitting for his character

"Sir Pentious"; Still a snake! But specifics are needed, so, he's an Eastern diamondback rattlesnake

"Vox": Still a T.V. I wanted him to have that parallel with Alastor, where they're both more machine than man.

"Velvette": Barbie or Bratz doll. The more conventional kind of doll, still hollow and fake, but highly sought after

"Valentino": A cigarette. It can kind of be like how HE is a drug, he's toxic, you know he's toxic, but once you take a drag, you're hooked

...

That's basically it for now, toodles! :D

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Lady C Tea (mini nuggets paraphrased by me - the tendinitis edition) by u/daisybeach23

Lady C Tea (mini nuggets paraphrased by me - the tendinitis edition) The Duke of Westminster did not invite Harry to his wedding because he knew William would not have come if Harry was going. Lady C wants you to know that Hugh Grosvenor has a descendent who was an African Slave and another descendent who was Jewish. Take that Megsy Baby!Lady C hears Meghan and Harry are on the total outs! Meghan is blaming him for their failings in reaching billionaire status. Lady C thinks history will judge the H&M propaganda machine harshly. The truth has a way of coming out.Lady C doesn’t think Harry and Meghan have done anything bad enough to warrant removal of titles - yet. The last major change regarding usage of titles was 1917 King George V. He changed the family name to Windsor. He eliminated a large amount of existing titles. And, he eliminated all German titles that were in use. They were stripped. Catherine is simply too weak to do public events. Lady C will not comment on these horrible online rumblings about a woman undertaking chemotherapy. She is a beautiful woman whose appearance is part of her identity. She will return when she is ready. Toodles SinnersPS…thanks for all the kind comments yesterday. I went to the doctor and she says I absolutely have tendinitis. She prescribed me an anti-inflammatory and the proper hand brace so hopefully it will heal in 2-3 weeks. So for a little while, I have to dish up the mini-nuggets. post link: https://ift.tt/uUKLdN1 author: daisybeach23 submitted: May 22, 2024 at 02:11AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[toodleoorblx]

I Found You, I’m Bound to You

Agatha Harkness x Wanda Maximoff

Word count: 2,562

Summary: Wanda isn’t in her cabin. Where is she?

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 -/?

Warnings: violence, cursing, gore, trauma, mentions of death

A/N: Enjoy!! Toodles!!

Chapter 4 -Days of Future Chaos

Wanda's eyes shoot open, her vision blurred by the moisture clouding them. She gasps as an intense burning sensation sears through her eyes. Her hands instinctively fly to her face, pressing against her eyes as she winces, biting her lip to stifle a cry. There's a wetness on her face and hands, it's warm, thicker than water, she doesn't know what it is. Her mind races in panic. How did she get here? What’s in her eyes? Where is she? Where's Agatha? She stumbles backwards, tripping over her own feet and yelping as she falls onto a bed behind her.

Gradually, the searing pain subsides, leaving behind a phantom ache. She huffs, trying to calm her racing heart. Slowly, she removes her trembling hands from her eyes, blinking away the residual discomfort. She stares at her hands, squinting, her vision isn't quite at its best yet. There's… nothing on them. Odd. She wipes her hands on her jeans and she glances up. As her vision clears, she takes in her surroundings.

What...?

She slowly rises to her feet, her heart pounding in her chest. This can’t be real. Is this a dream? A nightmare? She looks around in shock, feeling a wave of disbelief wash over her. She’s back in Sokovia, in her childhood home, untouched by the destruction that claimed it. It looks exactly the same as when Agatha had shown her those memories all those months ago.

The dark green walls, worn and familiar, feel comforting. The low hum of static from the small TV on the table fills the room, the sound evoking a surge of nostalgia. She moves towards the small kitchen, her mouth slightly ajar, eyebrows furrowed in a mix of disbelief and distrust.

She reaches out to touch the countertops, her fingers tracing the familiar patterns in the worn wood. Everything is as it was, down to the last detail.

An idea strikes Wanda, prompting her to hastily trek to her bed. She kneels down, glancing around under the bed until she spots it: a small, red box. It's battered and worn, but still intact. She sighs in relief, reaching for it with trembling hands. As she pulls it out from under the bed, memories flood back, bringing a bittersweet smile to her face.

This box had always meant a lot to her mother. Every Monday, her mother would draw something and put it in the box, challenging Wanda and Pietro to guess what it was. (They couldn’t afford board games so her mother had to get creative.) The winner would get bragging rights for the week. It was one of Wanda's favorite traditions. She sits down on the neatly made bed, her heart pounding as she lifts the top of the box, her eyes watering.

Inside, she finds the last drawing her mother ever made. It's a simple sketch of Wanda and Pietro, smiling together. They couldn't afford a camera, so Iryna would draw her children from memory. She always said drawing your loved ones means a thousand more words, than a picture did. Wanda smiles sadly, almost hearing her mother's gentle voice repeating those words.

A watery laugh escapes her lips as she runs her hand over the drawing of Pietro. In the sketch, she and Pietro sit side by side, their faces beaming with the carefree joy of youth. Wanda fights back a sob, barely managing to hold it in with a shaky sigh. She flips the drawing over, noticing writing in Sokovian on the back.

‘Drahý Piet a prútiky. Toto je niečo, čo ti neukážem, kým nebudeš trochu starší. Chcem, aby si mal niečo, pre prípad, že by sa v živote dostal veľa, niečo, čo ti pomôže spomenúť si na lepšie časy. Čas, keď sa Piet mohol len pokúsiť pripomenúť nám, aby sme hovorili po anglicky a hovorili o behaní vonku, a Wanda neprestala hovoriť o televíznej šou, ktorú tak miluje. Navždy budeš v našich srdciach, môj dorogoy Piet, a moja detka Prútiky.

Milujeme vás oboch.’

Tears fall onto the small paper, the yellowed parchment becoming slightly translucent. Wanda's body shakes with sobs as she clutches the precious note to her chest. Her mother’s words, filled with love and nostalgia, are almost too much to bear. Each line transports her back to those simpler times, when the biggest worry was guessing the week's drawing and enjoying their mother's stories, or Pietro catching her in tag.

“Wanda.” A voice that sounds hauntingly like hers pierces the silence, the accent thick and unmistakable.

Wanda jumps, the box slipping from her lap and hitting the floor with a thud. Her tear-filled eyes dart upwards, her breath catching in her throat. Her mouth falls open in shock, her face paling. This must be a nightmare...

It's The Scarlet Witch.

The redhead furrows her eyebrows, her head tilting slightly. The Scarlet Witch mimics the movement, standing a few feet away, her hair flowing as if caught in a magical breeze. Her eyes glow a menacing red, her hands clasped neatly in front of her. The effects of the Darkhold are evident, the corruption on her fingers already creeping up to the base of her palms.

It’s a surreal experience, watching herself from outside her body while still being in it. They are identical in appearance yet starkly different in essence. Wanda's blood runs cold as she sees a smirk spread across the Scarlet Witch's face.

Determination hardens within Wanda. She blinks away the shock, her expression setting into one of resolve. She clenches her jaw, recalling Agatha’s teachings. Magic begins to pool in her abdomen, thrashing and swirling like a living entity. She can’t decide if she should unleash it while it’s still fueling up, so she clenches her fists instead. “How am I here?” she asks sharply, trying to keep her voice steady.

The Scarlet Witch tuts, shaking her head slightly. “You really should mind your attitude. It’s unbecoming of you in this state.” Her tone is cool, carrying an undercurrent of danger.

Wanda licks her dry lips. “What state? Dreaming?”

The Scarlet Witch huffs a laugh, a dark sound that echoes in the small room. “...Weak.” She corrects, trailing her hand over the back of the couch as she slowly walks beside it. Chaos magic radiates from her fingertips, leaving a faint, ominous glow in its wake.

Wanda furrows her brows, suspicion flaring in her green eyes. She watches the couch warily, her attention flicking back to her alter ego. Distrust blazes in her gaze, her magic thrumming just beneath her skin, ready to be called upon if needed.

“And who said you were dreaming?” The Scarlet witch continues.

Wanda's throat tightens, the words catching like a lump she can’t swallow. She isn’t dreaming? But if this isn’t a dream, then what is it? Is this the Astral Plane? No… It doesn’t feel like that either. What could be so lifelike, so tangible, yet so surreal? “...W-what?”

The Scarlet Witch halts her measured pacing, fixing Wanda with a glare sharp as a blade, her eyes glinting with dark knowledge. “Consider it… Limbo,” she says, her voice laced with a chilling calm.

“A place between being awake and being asleep?” Wanda asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

“A place between your mind…” The Scarlet Witch trails off, lifting her hand with a slow, deliberate motion. Chaos magic, wild and untamed, spirals out from her fingertips, engulfing their surroundings in a bright, pulsating red. The apartment dissolves into a blur, the familiar warmth replaced by a biting cold. Wanda blinks rapidly, trying to focus, but all she can see is the intense crimson glow enveloping them.

A harsh wind suddenly whips across her back, sending a shiver down her spine. As the red haze clears, Wanda gasps, her eyes widening in disbelief. She stands on a mountain, the ruins of a small, ancient tower surrounding her. The stone is dark, weathered by time and the elements, yet there’s an undeniable sense of power here, a lingering presence that makes the air crackle with energy. It doesn’t look like a mere ruin—it looks like a throne room, a place where someone once ruled with immense power. An immense power that feels chillingly familiar.

“And mine,” the Scarlet Witch finishes, her voice echoing ominously against the stone walls. She steps forward, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she surveys Wanda’s shock. “Welcome to Wundagore Mountain,” she says with a smirk, the name rolling off her tongue like a prophecy fulfilled.

“I had to perform an… interesting spell to call you here. Don't mind the blood,” the Scarlet Witch says with a lazy gesture toward Wanda.

Wanda’s brows furrow, her mouth slightly ajar. “What…?” she whispers, glancing down. Her eyes widen in horror. Her hands are stained red, remnants of drying blood covering her fingers, palms, and streaked across her face. She touches her cheeks slowly, fingers trembling as they come away slick and crimson. Her heart starts to race. Whose blood is this? Is this the wetness she felt earlier? “What did you do…?” Wanda asks quietly, though she’s not entirely sure she wants to know the answer.

The Scarlet Witch shrugs nonchalantly. “What I had to do. It’s no easy feat, calling you into a conjunction of our enhanced minds. I had to… get my hands dirty, so to speak.”

Wanda shudders, the chill of realization creeping up her spine. She feels nauseous, bile rising in her throat as she processes the grotesque scene. She wipes the blood off her face with the hem of her white t-shirt, staining it a deep, accusing red.

“I summoned you here because I wanted to speak to you,” the Scarlet Witch continues, her tone laced with authority, as if she’s addressing a subject rather than an equal.

Wanda swallows hard, her mind racing to keep up with the sudden shift in reality. She took a life… because she wanted to speak to her. She's deranged. “Speak to me about… what?” she manages to ask, though her voice wavers, betraying her uncertainty.

The Scarlet Witch takes a seat on her imposing throne, the air seemingly growing colder around her. Wanda shivers, the chill seeping into her bones. She watches her alter ego with a mix of wariness and curiosity. The Scarlet Witch exudes arrogance and self-assuredness, a stark contrast to Wanda's own turbulent emotions. Wanda wonders if this is where the Scarlet Witch resides, these ancient, crumbling ruins. It speaks volumes about what she can endure, both with and without.

A question nags at Wanda's mind: are they truly separate entities, capable of their own thoughts and desires? She can't hear the Scarlet Witch’s thoughts, but she can feel her presence, a deep, invasive sensation that makes her skin crawl. It’s as if the Scarlet Witch is right behind her, a constant, unwelcome shadow. The feeling of not being alone in her own body is suffocating.

Wanda’s thoughts are abruptly interrupted by the Scarlet Witch’s low, commanding voice, making her flinch slightly. She hopes her unease wasn't noticed.

“...I want dominance.”

Wanda tilts her head, narrowing her eyes in confusion. Dominance? Over what? Her magic? “Over my magic?” she asks cautiously.

The Scarlet Witch sighs, as if speaking to her is an arduous task. “No… I want your body.” She gestures dismissively to Wanda's form. “I'm merely a thought process. A change of perspective. I can't have that.” She shakes her head, her blackened fingers trailing along the armrest of her throne. “I need a physical tether. Something only you can provide.” Her voice is cold, her eyes calculating as they bore into Wanda.

Wanda doesn’t respond immediately, the weight of the revelation settling heavily on her shoulders. She… wants her body. She wants to take over her. The very thought makes Wanda bristle with anger. She clenches her jaw, her fists tightening as she meets the Scarlet Witch's gaze with defiance. “This body wasn’t yours to begin with. This was my life before you were tapped into. I had a life before I knew any of this. Like hell I'd let you take my body.” Her voice is bitter, venomous, as she bares her teeth. Her magic flares to life in her palms, crackling with raw energy.

The Scarlet Witch remains silent for a moment, her eyes locked onto the shimmering energy in Wanda's palms with a detached, almost clinical expression. Then, a slow, bitter smirk spreads across her lips. “That’s adorable,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Wanda’s magic flickers, her confidence wavering. “But utterly foolish.”

The Scarlet Witch’s face hardens, her expression becoming serious, bordering on dangerous. “I was always there,” she continues, her tone cold and unyielding. “I saw… everything. I know all you know. But I know… more.” She shrugs slightly, then vanishes from her throne only to reappear beside Wanda. She begins to circle her like a predator sizing up its prey, her red cape flowing fluidly around her.

“You have no true reason to continue. You lost your family, you lost your lover, you lost your children. What more do you have to lose before you realize… It's fate. It's part of the package.”

Wanda’s heart clenches at the brutal truth in her words. Each loss is a fresh wound, still raw and aching. “What package…?” she asks quietly, not taking her eyes off the Scarlet Witch.

“You were forged to suffer,” the Scarlet Witch states matter-of-factly. “How do you think you reach your full potential? Your pain is what makes you strong. And the fact that you think your pain makes you weak speaks volumes about how little you know about yourself.”

Wanda’s eyes blaze with anger, chaos magic swirling around her as her irises glow a fierce red. “I've had to live with myself all my life. I think I know me,” she snaps, her voice dripping with defiance. She has borne the weight of her guilt, her memories, her stories, her agony, her grief. All of it, every single day. Just for one lonely person. It’s a burden too heavy for anyone to carry, and this bitch has the audacity to say she doesn't know herself. Wanda scoffs, her voice trembling with emotion. “I don’t want to reach my full potential unless it gets me my sons. I have no other purpose.” She swallows dryly, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. There. She said it.

She has no other purpose.

The Scarlet Witch stares at her, expressionless. Her face is a blank canvas, giving no indication of understanding or empathy. She is a mirror of Wanda, standing there with an eerie calm. Wanda clenches her jaw, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

“I think it’s time you leave,” the Scarlet Witch says, her voice cold and detached as she clasps her hands neatly in front of her. “I can’t even look at you without seeing the most pathetic version of ourself.” Wanda bristles at the word ‘ourself,’ the shared identity making her skin crawl. “Just know… I will fight for control over our body. This won't be the last of me.” The Scarlet Witch's eyes flash red before she raises her hands and places them on Wanda's temples. Wanda feels the surge of magic, her own but twisted, darker, more ancient. It’s an unsettling sensation, feeling your own power used against you.

The world around her blurs, reality slipping away.

****************************************************

‘Drahý Piet a prútiky. Toto je niečo, čo ti neukážem, kým nebudeš trochu starší. Chcem, aby si mal niečo, pre prípad, že by sa v živote dostal veľa, niečo, čo ti pomôže spomenúť si na lepšie časy. Čas, keď sa Piet mohol len pokúsiť pripomenúť nám, aby sme hovorili po anglicky a hovorili o behaní vonku, a Wanda neprestala hovoriť o televíznej šou, ktorú tak miluje. Navždy budeš v našich srdciach, môj dorogoy Piet, a moja detka Prútiky.

Milujeme vás oboch.’

=

'Dear Piet and Wands. This is something I won't be showing you until you're a little older, I want you to have something, in case life gets to much, something to help you remeber better times. A time where all Piet could do was try and remind us to speak english and talk about running outside, and Wanda wouldn't stop talking about that tv show she loves so much. You will always be in our hearts, my dorogoy Piet, and my detka Wands.

We love you both.'

[klanced]

holy shit tumblr recommended you to me and i had war flashbacks, it's so good to see you again user katie klanced!!! i had no idea you were still active! it's nice to know v*ltron isn't fully dead, i hope you've been well!!!

my blog is a walking jump scare. a living ghost. i log on every two months and do a little sillayyyy just a little toodle-hoo and tumblr is in the studio like oh this shit is criminal lets airdrop this bitch EXPEDITIOUSLY. they put me in the recommended for you tab & then walk away right as the flash bang goes off. 3 dead 18 wounded

[nakhoda-nacho]

Digital Art Test

Believe it or not, it's my first time in a long time I make digital art, and I love the results ngl.

(OC: Nat Winds, an anxious one)

Tbh, it's kinda hard to transition back to digital art after for so long I use traditional media. I guess it's stepping out of the comfort zone for once.

Yeah trying to still retain my sketchy artstyle in there takes some time and effort, but I love how it turns out (plus playing around with the effects is fun!! :D)

Anyways, toodles!! \(☆v☆)/