Twisted Wonderland Fan Art Novels & Stories

She tells us, and I hear the growls that leave my pack members. "What do you mean by residue?" "When magic is used, it leaves a residue on the air. If you are a witch or warlock someone that practices, you can feel the leftover residue from their magic. The darker the magic, the heavier the deposition will be. It is heavy here, similar to a large black cloud." I take a deep breath listening to her. She starts to move her hands and says words, but they are so low, and I am sure they are in a different language that I can't understand her. I see lights start to shine and move around the area. It is like they are dancing, then they disappear in a puff of smoke. I look at Piper, waiting on her t

I trail off, hoping she will just hurry up and create her portal. She nods her head understandingly, “Of course my dear, let’s get you back to your mate.” Waving her hand in a circular motion, she creates her portal in front of us and I admire it. Of all the elemental portals I’ve seen, I think this one is my favourite; the leaves create a whirlwind of colour, like stepping into a windy autumn day. Walking through it is the same as walking through every other kind though; dark and quiet.

And most importantly, what did they want with us? "I hope you can swim," the one at my back whose dark mask had red stitching on one cheek said. "Are we going for a swim?" My blonde friend asked. The other one chuckled, "Something like that." With a grimace, red stitching bent and pushed open a hole in the ground covered by a metal lid. The smell that wafted up was rancid. I covered my nose and my eyes watered. "What's in there?" Trish asked in a small, unsure voice.

I said aloud, "Did you all hear him? A mate bond is sacred. I will never agree to a ridiculous suggestion of Easton taking over both families." Felicia sounded hesitant. She shot me a pitying expression, but in the end, she sided with Andre. "Jane, I know you miss Andre after he passed away, but you are with pup now. You'll have a hard time without a man taking care of you. "We know you love Andre, but you must look to the future. You're not going to die for love, are you? The Twilight pack needs you. Your child needs you. And we need you too.

“Or at least, it’s similar to one of his quotes.” She nodded. “Does all of Black Crimson’s art illustrate some fairy tale or another?” I sent her a curious glance. Motioning behind her, she explained. “Well, that one was obviously Rapunzel. And the one before was the Big Bad Wolf, right?” “Holy shit,” I cried, gaping at her before shaking my head and returning my attention to the road. “I think you’re right. I remember another one having some guy leaning over a sleeping woman and one had a mermaid on it, which must be—”

'Come to my party, if you ugly as shit, bring a bottle or $20 for entry, If you fine as fuck, bring your ass to the dance floor -Jacob ;)' After reading the awfully written note, I looked up at the guy in utter confusion. "Are you sure this is for me? I think you have the wrong person" I told him. I was so confused as to who would even think this was an acceptable invite, I'm pretty sure you do that over text these days so I was surprised it was written. And whoever his Jacob guy was clearly was still in his highschool player phase as he specifically states how much of a egotistical fool he is.

It's very satisfying work, so much so that when I'm done with the first brochure, I pull the rest down off the wall and start to go through them one by one. In the second brochure, I make all of them pirates (complete with eye patches and parrots, of course). In the following photo, I give all of them racy tattoos. I make them into clowns and cowboys and mutants. I give them bulbous noses and giant ears and fish lips. By the time I'm halfway through the stack, I've gone through all my usual doodles, but I don't stop. It's childish, maybe, and more than a little bit dumb, but I can't help myself. I'll take any small victory against Carolson and Huntington Manor. It makes it even better to ima

And by this time, she was seeing dreams, too. I took my phone from the nightstand and opened G****e. Without thinking about anything, I searched for the McCoy siblings. Thousands of pictures came in front of me. Some were individual, some were all of them together; however, Lyra wasn’t any of them. I clicked one where Brain and Owen were standing while Viola was sitting on a chair in the middle of them. I gazed at the picture for a long time, then I looked at Lyra.

I could feel a pair of hazel brown eyes staring at me from right across the room and I swallowed hard, unable to believe my own eyes Is this what they call as coincidence? "Dude, she is smoking hot. Am I dreaming or something? She is so freaking young. I thought she would be around 30 or something," Ryan gushed beside me while I gave him a nervous smile. David began to introduce the team members one by one and he finally pointed at me. "That's Nate Wilson, our game designer and the most valuable asset of our company."

She didn’t think anymore that she was meant to be hurt. The torch led to another stone path that seemed to have weakened with age. The brightness here was intensified, and she could barely see anything other than stark whiteness. Slowly, it diminished, leaving in its pace different artistic designs. It seemed like each image was speaking to her. It seemed like they were trying to tell her their story, but they didn’t know how to do that. It was such an intense feeling that almost weakened her. Clarissa moved a step further as the painting of a woman, likely a witch because her eyes were ablaze with a blue fire and her claws were longer than a wick, cried as she burned in a ball of fire. The