Ahsoka Tano Drawing Novels & Stories

he asked, feeling a bit odd. "I'll let you see my work later." she pushed his body slowly, asking him to go to the chair that she mentions. "O~kay." Asher finally gets up and sit on the chair as she instructed him. Statically and not moving at all. Athena is focusing on her drawing. Sometimes she will glance at him and concentrate on her sketching. For Asher to see the view of Athena when she was portraying him is beautiful. Her messy hair, baggy shirt with only her panties, and the way she glances at him are so alluring and sexy.

Maybe years. And then I see the drawings. Taped to the walls, scattered across tables, covering nearly every surface I can see. Sketches in charcoal and pencil, some detailed and finished, most of them half-done like he started and couldn’t bring himself to continue. All of them are the same person. A girl. Young, fourteen or fifteen maybe, with long dark hair and this smile that looks like it could light up an entire room. In some of the drawings she’s laughing at something off the page. In others she’s concentrating hard, her tongue stuck between her teeth the way kids do when they’re focused.

“Go now!” The warriors charge from three different directions as Ahsoka uses her powers to control the water. The more I watch her fight the more impressed I am. The rogues scramble to get off the docks before Ahsoka drowns them giving Alpha Nicolai and I time to reach the yacht that is pulling away. Ahsoka is doing her best at preventing it from leaving but at the same time trying to not tip the boat over.

Shadows clung to the high walls. Beside him lay a gigantic black tiger, its fur dark as night, its golden eyes sharp and watchful. It rested calmly, powerful even in stillness. Asher sat before a canvas, brush in hand. He was painting a woman’s face. The hair was almost complete, flowing softly across the canvas. But the eyes, nose, and lips remained unfinished. A knock echoed through the chamber. “Enter,” Asher said without looking up. The door opened. Kai stepped inside.

I glanced at a few of the books, some fantasy novels and a small sketch pad. I opened the sketch pad and looked through it, she was good. Really good. The scenes were mostly outdoors. Forests, waterfalls, mountains. All done with such grace and precision. Each more lovely and realistic than the last. I noticed at the bottom there was a J written as beautifully as the drawings themselves. I got to the last page and there was a drawing of a moon. Bright and beautiful in the sky but there was something else to it. The drawing felt sad. “What the hell.” I snapped as I lifted my hand and wiped a tear from my cheek.

He saw her body, the forms of her muscles were smooth however they were obviously solid and strong. Looking openly at Asher, their eyes met as he suddenly turned around. Haya rolled her eyes and knelt down once more and played with the cell phone. Asher put on the shirt and went to Haya once more. He saw her drawing on the table. "Did you draw it?" Asher asked him. Haya gestured, "Okay." Haya's curt reply, while still reaching for the wireless. Asher took his drawing and looked closely, it was pink and looked at Haya's different drawings.

Though Alpha Valor was 1000 years old, he looked in his early 30s. None of them looked their age. His mother, Luna Emmaline, looked in her 20s, the second leader of his family's small pack. She has blonde hair. The greenest eyes I'd seen. She's also tall but not as tall as the male and has a voluptuous body. All the she-wolves seem to have a curvy body, a large bust, and the ideal buttock size, which makes me wonder why Connor chose an uncurvy and ordinary-looking human girl like me.

"It's not exactly 'showroom ready.'" She leaned over to get a look. He pulled the first page from the case. It was a rough but vibrant line sketch of a strong figure standing alone. Lilly's gaze softened. "Wow," she murmured. "This is… intense." Quill nodded, pulling another piece. It was the same figure but now crouched. The figure's muscles were more defined. With every sketch he'd tried to capture something different about Hawk. "Is it…" she trailed off as she glanced at him. "It's him, isn't it?"

This isn’t about land or profit, it’s about the survival of mankind! I cross the room and pull open the drawer to my desk. The sketch lies folded within, worn at the edges from constant handling. I lift it carefully, reverently. Ash’s face stares up at me from the charcoal lines, haunting and exquisite. He looks otherworldly even on paper. I had to have a new one commissioned from memory. Tara stole my diary and I’d moved the likeness from the Grimoire to my nightstand. Fortunately I have every line of Ash’s exquisite face burned into my memory.

I picked it up and took a seat on the bed, before flipping it open. It was filled with… drawings. Drawings so realistic, they told stories better than any picture ever could. A smile curved on my lips at the fact that Asher drew all this. On the first page was the picture of a woman, who reminded me of Jane—or perhaps it was just the fact that she had red hair.. I turned over to the next page. On it was the drawing of a boy, seated in a dark empty space. The third drawing gave me a pause. It was of a woman in a bathtub, her wrist split and blood gushing out of the wound.