Novel & Cerita Black Swan Fan Art

"And what do you want to do, Hilarion?" "Vanguard and I love baking; we want to open a shop together. Grimm is actually incredibly talented at tailoring. Storm wants to be a doctor. Slake loves raising horses—the ones he cares for are the healthiest and most beautiful in Ashmeer. Bane (แบคฟูล) wants to be a mercenary, and Draven is our artist." "Wow! I’m rooting for all of you!" "And what about you, Snow White? What do you want to be?" Bane asked softly. Snow White thought for a moment before answering.

“Our wedding will be the social event of the year! Gray should feel honored we even considered him. We’ll pay, of course, though he should do it for free!” Sylvia grimaced, “Ma’am, you see this picture…” Katherine looked to see a black and white piece depicting a small tree alone in a plain of grass. The simple composition evoked loneliness, introspection and ultimately hope. It was one of Sylvia’s personal favorites. “This piece is worth $100,000. We’ve sold three prints since we opened,” Sylvia said, letting her words sink in. “Gray is an artist, not some amateur photographer.” “Why you…do you have any idea who I am?” Katherine demanded.

"Maybe she's right." His phone buzzed on the desk. He looked at it. A notification. News alert. *Sienna Blake's Latest Work: A Portrait of Heartbreak* He clicked before he could stop himself. The article loaded. A photo of a painting filled the screen. Dark. Chaotic. Beautiful in a terrible way. Blues so deep they looked like bruises. Reds that screamed. Blacks that consumed everything. It was pain. Visible. Raw. Honest. He stared at it. Couldn't look away.

Ravi slammed the door behind him and was startled to find Adrian floating by the window, his wings flapping, hands folded across his chest, wearing a smug expression. He knew all too well that this creature was the one responsible for the chaos Ravi had just experienced. Ravi quickly moved to the window, fists clenched in anger, a sharp gaze directed at him with disapproval. He opened the window with a loud creak. "You're the problem here."

Waverly glared at his arm, which was covered in numerous tattoos, forming a sleeve, with the Crimson Shadow sigil placed in the centre. He pulled out a sketch pad and then a pack of pencils. "I heard you like drawing and since Sawyer's been so busy with the Lunar Eclipse coming up next month, I thought I'd bring you by some entertainment." He stretched out his hand, showing a tattoo of a wolf, with its tail wrapping around each of his fingers. Waverly slowly met him in the middle and took the book and pencils. "Thanks…" she said curiously. Even though she was weary of the man in front of her, it had felt like forever since she had scratched the surface of a new sheet of paper.

"Get a small team of your fastest people together. We need to find those girls before it's too late." --- The cloud cover had been blown away by the wintry winds exposing the inky black night skies. Stars were scattered through blackness, Sparkling like diamonds on a bed of black velvet. But it was the moon that dominated the sky, her silvery light bathing the frozen wilderness until it looked like a black and white photo was as beautiful as it was haunting.

They expected less for Mizu to win based on what her performance was showing. There's this group of three people in a very loud conversation, wearing a dark purple cloak with a crest of a black wolf showing its mighty canine teeth and an entrancing dark purple flower surrounding the creature— the Wolfbanes of the West House. They sit comfortably on the couch while facing some of their kohai's and boastfully saying with their loud ducky voice that can be heard throughout the area: "If I was in that game, the two of them will turn into a pulp in a single minute." the guy in the center of the three said with full of confidence.

She was with him the first time she came here, and now she was alone. However, she wasn’t sad or disappointed. Her body and soul were ruined beyond repair… She was still calm; Silje realized that if a person was in too much pain, it could make that person tranquil. It was a gloomy winter day and too early for the park to be crowded with people. Oddly enough though, the lake was swarming with white swans. Staring at them, Silje suddenly felt something. The white swans… “…” The whiteness of them reminded her of ashes, bringing back the devastation to her heart.

“Do your worst.” “You hush,” I scolded him, dipping my finger in black paint before catching his bottom lip, dragging it through his stubble and down his chin. “I’m working.” Evan chuckled, but didn’t say anything more as I dipped my brush in the shade of vermilion I’d picked for the base. Across his chest, I painted a red sky, blending darker and lighter reds to create angry, ominous storm clouds above an inky black sea that spanned his abdomen.