Pokemon Cynthia Fanart นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Cynthia did not look human any more. "C-Cynthia... are y-you alright?" Faith stutters, shaking slightly. Another inhuman growl rips from the black of Cynthia's throat, as her eyes snap up to focus on Faith's, who was sure she was looking into two swirling pools of darkness, waiting to draw her into the depths of hell. Cynthia's lips fold back revealing two very long, very sharp canines, gleaming in the light and looking ready to rip into Faith's flesh. She gulps at this thought. Surely she was dreaming. This was just... impossible! But then a drip of blood dribbles from Faith's finger onto the floor, and Faith felt as though time had frozen as Cynthia leapt from her chair and at Faith, merci

damn really skinny , sometimes I think while making me god forgot that a thing called muscles exist between bones and skin , but nevermind i can't change it .Duh . So i have messy ash blonde hair and acne loves me , my bestfriends you know they never leave me alone especially when i have to go to a special event . My face feautures aren't great too .But fortunately i got great nails , well they are almost claws , very sharp you know .This is how a look like .I have no special interest you know accept ballet , i am almost a prefect in it and it is the only thing I enjoy in this Damn world .I have frinds too but a very few , Gave you a reason to be jelous .Yeah you are not the only one , woul

Cynthia's voice was highly seductive. " She's straight, Cynthia." Jaxon quickly said. "Fucking pussy blocker!" Cynthia cursed and they all laughed. " May I take a picture of you for my catalogue?" Cynthia asked Roxanne. " Sure, why not?" " Thirty thousand dollars a pic." Jaxon quickly said. "What?!" Roxanne was surprised. " Yes. She's going to pay thirty thousand dollars for a picture of you." " But why?" John burst into laughter. " Cynthia is a famous photographer and if she wanted a model, she'll pay for the session." Jaxon explained.

" I paint vigorously as the song plays. I'm desperately trying to get the image out of my mind onto the canvas. My brush travels across his chiseled jawline. My colors hold his textured blonde color in a lock of hair that hung in his face while the rest was pulled back. My shadows play with the rippled muscles under his shirt. I let the music inspire me as I paint the pale blue eyes staring at me. His tanned skin looks almost like I could reach in and feel it. The image in my mind comes alive in the painting. My painting. "Bastian." I whisper as I add tiny dances of light to his face. "Oh, that's lovely." I whip around and my mom is standing. I huff out a breath. "You scared me." She giggles

"Seraphina Agni, save our clan and come back safe. We need you, before our clan disappears, please— save the phoenix from crying..."

Cynthia said honestly, "but as it stands, he' s the most likely one. " Cynthia is in a very responsible mood right now. She kind of hoped it was Phoenix; if it was him, she at least knew him. But then she didn' t want it to be Phoenix, it was because of knowing him that she knew how scary Phoenix really was. "Anyway, I will go to the Dark Forest as soon as possible to look for Phoenix. " The hunting competition was officially over, and Cynthia and her brother packed up their things and left. Before leaving, countless fans came to see them off. They filled both sides of the road, holding banners and flags with Cynthia' s name on them. It was as spectacular as welcoming a king.

And survived. “Your dragon, little fox,” he rumbled as he stared down at me. “My name is Cyan.” Epic response. We wouldn’t even go into how ridiculously breathy my voice was. “As you wish, my princess,” he murmured, that infuriating smirk ticking his lips upward seconds before they crashed down on mine.

Cynthia made her plea in a sincere tone as she stared into Debby's eyes pleadingly. Debby hesitated for a moment but agreed, "Yes I can do it for you, but why don't you ask Master Carlo for it?" Cynthia narrowed her eyes and smiled as she lied: "I want to paint a special picture for your Master Carlo, it's a surprise and he can't know about it." Cynthia stood up and moved her body, she was a little sleepy after Carlo had kept her up until the middle of the night last night. She was wearing a white shirt today with one button loose on the collar, the hickey on her neck leaking out.

He wiped me down with clumsy care, taught himself to cook plain porridge, and slept on a narrow folding chair by my bed every night, fully dressed, just to be near. The day I was discharged, sunlight bathed the seaside town in gold. Nathan pushed my wheelchair, a cashmere blanket he had bought draped over me. Six months later, he rented the only art gallery in town and sponsored my very first solo exhibition. He named it 'Rebirth'. The bright, spacious hall was filled with the work I had poured my soul into for half a year. Storm-dark seas before a tempest. Iridescent light shimmering on rocks after rain. A daisy blooming toward the sun from a bookstore window.

Cynthia raised an eyebrow slyly and whispered, "Relax, Larry. Just wait and see." Then, Cynthia whipped out her phone and snapped a pic of the computer screen. After that, she aimed the camera at herself, her expression shifting instantly to one of pure distress. She even added a gray filter for effect. Her lips moved, silently mouthing, "Help!" My stomach sank.