Aang Fanart Novels & Stories

Amy finally drew her lips away from his, "I want to kiss all of you, every place on your body." Marcus felt his fangs elongate and he smiled. Amy placed her finger back into his mouth touching the sharp points. She pressed her finger hard and felt a small burning prick as the fang nicked her finger. Marcus sucked the small amount of blood as Amy's mouth began doing what she had promised.

"What did you paint, mama bear?" Shayla held up her canvas. She had painted the ocean. Blue water stretching to the horizon. White foam on the waves. A sunset in the background. Simple but pretty. "That is beautiful," Angel said. "Really beautiful, Mommey." "Thank you, baby. What about you? What did you paint?" Angel turned her canvas around. She showed them what she had been working on so carefully. It was people. A family. Clearly recognizable figures despite Angel's young artistic skills.

Samson dropped his phone on the bar and tried to flag down a bartender, accidentially dragging his sleeve through a spill of beer. "Damn it!" he cursed. He was pissed. Pissed at everything and every little thing made him angry. Anger wasn't a good thing for him. It made him want to sink his teeth into someone's neck and feed until he couldn't breath anymore... But that would mean killing anyone he fed on. He could easily do that, as the place was filled with humans. Drunk, wasted humans. All he had to do was lure one of them outside. Hell, he was sure he wouldn't even have to do that as there would be some people outside already. Snatch, eat, erase... Easy peasy.

) Book 1 Fangs: Alpha King (Completed) Book 2 Fangs: Queen Luna Book 3 Fangs: The Tale of the Moon Goddess written by Maple Writes Visit my facebook and Instagram page to know the updates fb: Maple Writes @AetherSama ig: maple @maple_writes

“Xeros, it’s—” The room was empty. Sunlight sliced across rumpled sheets, but the bed was cold. On the pillow, a single white rose was on a piece of paper. I walked towards the bed slowly before picking it up, reading the words scrawled hastily on it, "I've got to leave, Angel. Council business. Be back by dinner. Wear the dress, please. Try not to miss me too much —X." Beside it, folded like an offering, was a silk dress. I lifted it, and the fabric sighed—off-shoulder, plunging neckline, a slit high enough to scandalize a nun. My blush could’ve powered the pack house.

Via asked Angela and nodded a yes. Angela slid the sketchbook on the table to reach Via's hands. As soon as Via opened the sketchbook, she noticed the good smudge of the colors on each page. Via had seen Angela's drawings to be better than hers; they made her artworks mediocre. Each anime had lively colors. They had the correct shadow position, the wrinkles on their clothes were realistic, the hands were perfect, and their hair color had good blending; she had hidden drawings way better than those she shared with the class. Via looked at their works in silence. She observed them cleanly done with the quality of colors even if they failed to copy the characters correctly. She thought that it

I say softly, seeing the deep worry hiding in his eyes. He places his other hand over top mine, and a small moan leaves my lips at the coolness. "It's working!" I exclaim happily, but he only frowns. "I didn't do anything yet, Angel." he tells me, and a small o leaves my lips. "Your touch is cold... like Beau's then." I say, making his eyebrows scrunch together. I watch as he backs away from me before he shuts his eyes and holds his hands out. A yellowish-orange colored mist like magic leaves his hands and covers my body but I feel nothing.

“Yeah, almost everyone here is.” “That is so cool! Do you have fangs?! Can I see them? Do you ha-” He smiled. “You’re cute.” I blushed, immediately stopping my rambling. That's when I realized that the men sitting beside me were staring at me weirdly. “Sor-” Before I could get another word out, chaos knocked on the door. A group of about ten to fifteen men burst through the doors. They drew everyone’s attention. Their eyes were glowing red. Their fangs were on show. Their sharp overgrown nails were out on display.