Barry Guts And Blackpowder Fanart Novels & Stories

Someone else makes the old ward-sign against evil—thumb and forefinger crossed over the heart. Torren steps down from the crate. He doesn’t shout. He doesn’t need to. He points to a rough table near the central fire where two soldiers are already at work. Parchment. Charcoal. Ink mixed from soot and spit. Wanted posters. The artist is no master—quick, crude strokes—but the likeness is unmistakable. Snow-white hair spilling from a hood. Sharp blue eyes that seem to pierce even on flat parchment. A child’s face, small and solemn, framed by the storm-gray cloak. Beneath the sketch, in block letters scratched deep:

I pressed my gun straight at his thigh and released the first bullet. His scream rang in my ears, reverberating through the entire warehouse. I stomped another foot on the wound in the thigh — he screamed again, his face pale. His breath was ragged. "Who did you sell my fucking goods to?" I whispered fiercely, grinding my leg in the wound. He groaned, biting his lip to mask the pain. "Oh, fuck — damn you, Dimitri." He swore. “That's not the answer I want." I growled, stomping into his thigh again. His bone cracked loudly.

I could put on a brave face and pretend to be unafraid of the entire world, but when it came to my heart, it didn’t lie. His right hand moved farther up until he reached my neck. He wrapped his fingers completely around, getting me in the perfect grip if he wanted to choke me. His fingers pressed into me threateningly. I held my breath. I focused my gaze on his chest, seeing the black ink that was all over his body. Some of the images were of skulls or blades. Some were small trees, and another was a European soldier from the second world war. His body was a canvas, and I wondered what the artwork meant.

Jaxon chuckled loudly, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes. He loved how she could get possessive about little insignificant things. “Enjoy your little sex toys, Lexi.” He sent a mind link to her. Lexi just grinned drily. “Thank you for your care,” she rolled her eyes, then returned to Light’s lap. Mike noticed dark shadows moving slowly along the wall and the creepy art piece hanging on it. The painting showed tall, monstrous figures with bull-like horns, and wings made of swirling black smoke. Their disfigured faces twisted with pleasure. They were dressed in flowing red and their dark eyes were similar to the Blackwoods brothers.

(Professor Bar) Bar held up a glass jar full of a fine powder, but instead of black like a Gunpowder, the jar were actually have 2 colour fine powder in it, the Top layer powder was red in colour and the bottom layer were blue in colour. Seeing this everyone were gasped once again, by now it was seems that this was the normal reaction. “..Mana Core Powder?..”. (Rafaela)

The Black Moon Pack Notice: Sexual content (MxM). Read with caution. Brago was in a foul mood after a heated argument with his council. They had vehemently opposed his decision to call upon the Elite Pack, refusing to listen to his reasoning no matter how passionately he argued. Frustrated and furious, he sought solace in a more carnal distraction. He summoned his finest omegas, both male and female, lining them up before him. Franco stood dutifully at his side.

His lips tug up into the smallest of smiles "Wanna see what I've done?" I stand and walk to him, standing behind. The smell hits me, and I'm wondering how hard it must be to stand something like this, but I say nothing, staring at the his painting. His paintings, as always, are done with red and black, some charcoal he sometimes has a thing for. In it, there's a girl, in a cage tied to a chair, by her own guts coming out from her stomach and she has feathers, except she looks as if some of them have been plucked out, and her skin is blistered, bleeding, sores…

“You are not a real swordsman so don’t let the LARP get to your head. You might poke somebodies eyes out.” The other guy supported this argument by saying, “Arthur is right, Barabis. Although that sword is made of wood, it can still poke somebody’s eyes out if you are not careful.” Barabis smiled and remarked, “You guys are just jealous that your swords aren’t as cool as mine. Yours is the worst, Franklin.” He held his mighty weapon up for the heavens to adore. “This magnificent blade was hand forged by me in the pit of Obsidian Pandour.” “More like the bottom of your basement, bro.” Barabis’s friends laughed at his ridiculous display of valour, moreover, told him that he was the reason why

We would usually mate, and a mating bond was always stronger than that agreement that we signed on a wedding paper. “We have no objection.” Alpha Arturo said, looking at him through the corner of his eye. His voice was deep, husky, and hoarse. His power radiated by just seeing his presence, and I could tell that one growl from him would shut a whole room up with no fights or arguments.