Attack On Titan Drawing Novels & Stories

Episodes 50 “Do not open unless you are Rachel Gerard” she read but open it, she skipped throughout the pages of the journal, they were drawings, scary drawings of dead scenes, each drawings portraying how each person died, with illustrations of their environment, she started at the date at the top of every page circled with a red pen, the dates are body written. She keeps opening to the next pages till she gets to a drawing and she stops this time 'Anetta' is written beside it, she is in front of two people one who just turned to a hot Lava and the other waiting to be turned to it, the date is written too.

"What did you see? What was it?" I didn't answer, I couldn't. I just started drawing. My hand moved with a desperate, jerky urgency, sketching the jagged plates of armor, the cluster of sensory pits, the impossible, spindly grace of their limbs. I drew them hunched over their work, a terrifying display of biological alienness. When I finished, I held the paper out to him, my breathing ragged. "They’re not waiting to attack, Caius. They’re just... existing. On the other side. They’re everywhere."

She sat down on the chair and began to look at them. She felt her skin crawl as she looked at the drawings. They were of the same man. Tall. Thin. Faceless. With tentacles. But now they were not alone, on the sides were written letters. On one alone they said many NO. NO. NO. And on another was a sentence written: Don't look out the window.

My throat tightened so badly it hurt. "Blair." I whispered. Something else lay beside them, a piece of paper, no, a drawing. I picked it up carefully. It was a picture of a girl standing between two stick-figure adults. All three holding hands. My vision blurred. Me. Blair. Her mother. The drawing was messy, the lines too sharp made by a tired hand, a scared hand, a child’s hand. My knees touched the floor before I even realized I’d fallen, I held the small shoe to my chest, shaking.

She draws the shack as best as possible in the ground, using a circle to show Allisara and triangles for the kidnappers. “Three are inside playing a card game and drinking. I have a feeling they are drunk. It’s the guy guarding the door we need to worry about.” Lia continues. I study the drawing, asking about what the four bigger dashes are and learning from Lia that they are windows, one of which Allisara is sleeping under. A plan begins to form as I think about what needs to be done.

Theodora opened the gray folder, where there were many papers in the same drawing pattern. Tessa noticed that Agatha always draws someone under a tree. And from a distance, she drew other people being together. Tessa tried to digest the meaning of the picture Agatha made, and instantly she understood what it meant. "Wait, do you know what my daughter's drawing means?" Tessa reached for one of Agatha's drawings, where it was clear that she had been bullied by her friends. "No, no. I don't understand, and I'm still trying to understand it."

At the same time, he decreased the size of his drawing and increased the sturdiness of its muscle and also a weapon. It took him two seconds to change his creation for the better. “Off you go. Kill the gasoline man for me. He is your kin too. Let’s see how strong he is.” He patted his drawing petulantly. The drawing instantly jumped into the battlefield and pushed out the unrelated pests that were in the way. Orange raised his hand, creating numerous arrows above him. “These guys are like fucking stormtroopers,” he commented as he sliced his hand in the air. Shoot!

Its massive weapon arm rotated forward as energy gathered into a blazing white core. Without hesitation, the titan fired. A beam brighter than the sun ripped across the battlefield and slammed directly into the creature’s chest. The explosion lit up the entire desert. Shockwaves blasted across the landscape. The prison tower shook violently. Adrian shielded his face from the light. “Did it...” The light faded. The beam had carved a deep glowing scar across the creature’s armor. But the titan still stood. Unmoved. Its violet eyes slowly looked down at the damage. Then it lifted one enormous clawed hand.

Half-finished profiles, small studies of my mouth, my knuckles. He didn't just draw my hands. He drew the veins on my forearm. He drew the calluses on my fingers. He drew the scar on my left palm. I feel something in my chest lurch. This isn't a sketch book. It's an obsession, and I’m so here for it. I flip a page and my breath stills in my throat. It’s me, drawn from the side, on my knees. My head is bowed, my hands clasped behind my back. It’s not last night. It’s from a drill. But the focus he’s captured is all sex. The tension in my spine, the line of my ass.

He stayed buried inside Adrian, holding him close. “I painted you again today,” Adrian said quietly, tracing the scar on Luca’s eyebrow. Luca’s eyes darkened with interest. “Show me.” Adrian reached for the sketchbook on the nightstand and handed it over. The new drawing showed Luca in the middle of the warehouse attack — powerful, deadly, covered in shadows and fire, with an almost feral expression. Luca stared at it for a long time. His cock twitched inside Adrian. “You see the monster and you still want me,” he said, voice hoarse.