Dramione Artwork Novels & Stories

We happily greeted him, trying our best not to hiccup from all the shots we had done. Finally, Jean pulled away from the designs, admiring each one. Adelia's semi-colon butterfly was intricately done, the edges of the wing slightly frayed. Teagan's Medus was large and imposing, as she wanted it on her thigh. Jean kept quiet about the meaning of it but you could see the pity in his eyes when he looked at Teagan.

a man added, as they all followed behind her to the huge one which stood in the large corner of the huge room, taking the grandest spot. “Fury of the Elements,” Isla muttered, her hand caressing the wonderful art which was depicted by a storm, and personified as a raging woman with hair of lightning and eyes of fire, dancing amidst turbulent waves, “The most expensive piece here,” she smiled and turned to them.

If Flynn was like Winston, willing to work hard for his own future, how could he possibly drift apart from Queenie? The painting I was working on was called Lonior's Peony. The entire composition was grand and magnificent, with gorgeous bright colors. It was one of my favorite designs in the Dreamlight project. That was why I exerted more effort than the two paintings before. After painting for a long time, my neck started to ache from fatigue. I looked up and saw that it was already pitch-black outside. The heavy rain had turned into a drizzle, streaming down the window glass slowly.

My name is Elora and I reside at the Blue Mountain Packhouse. I have a slim figure, long curly blonde hair which I usually wear up in a bun so it is out of my face. My eyes are a deep blue which I love. I am not a normal girl though. You see I am a shewolf, my rank at the packhouse is an omega. I don’t know my parents because they passed away when I was just a tiny baby, so I don’t have any memories of them. The only thing I have is a necklace locket from my mother. I have never taken it off because it makes me feel close to her spirit.

“Vampires and Dragonkin don’t usually mingle, but yes I have some in stock.” “We’re special like that.” Milo grinned and chose a seat near the bed where I’d sat down. “What kind of art do you want?” He didn’t make any introductions so I didn’t feel the need to introduce us either. I pulled a sheet from my jacket pocket and handed it to him. I’d already designed it myself but if he was as good as I thought he was then he’d redraw it. “It’s in cuneiform, two names and a black baccara rose with thorns on the stem.”

“And that’s me.” She smiled, warmth spreading through her chest. “You’re very good at this.” Draco grinned, tongue sticking out slightly as he added three taller figures beside them. “And that’s Uncle Nico, Uncle Lorenzo, and Uncle Damien!” The crayons scattered as he lifted the page proudly. Elena froze. Her smile stayed, but it felt fragile—like glass about to crack. She reached out, smoothing the corner of the paper. “That’s… very nice, sweetheart.” From the corner of the room, Damien looked up. His gaze flicked briefly to the drawing, then to her. His expression didn’t change, but she saw the flicker of emotion in his eyes before he looked away again.

Alongside my book. "Really?" Dameon said. "Your balls aren't impressive enough to make her want you? You really have to force the puny thing between your legs in her? Little wonder she always looks horrible each morning. Sir Adrienne... No. Lord Adrienne. O High and Mighty Lord of Puny Balls." Dameon snickered and I heard laughter from different angles in the dungeon. From the moonlight that reflected inside the dungeon through the small windows, I saw Adrienne take a turn to Dameon's cell and unlock it.

Emerald placed it on the table, giving Damon a cold look. "This is the painting you commissioned. Feel free to share your thoughts or let me know if there’s anything you’d like to change, Mr. Florida," she said professionally, while Damon grinned at her. Emerald pulled back the cloth covering the painting. "Everything is painted according to your specifications." The artwork depicted a golden deer celebrating birthdays, adorned with gemstones and powdered gold foil. Even in the dim light, its radiance was unmistakable. Damon held a glass of whiskey, initially planning to ruin the painting as a way to insult Emerald. Yet, as he examined the intricate, flawless details, his appreciation for ar

She never expected Draco to take her to such a beautiful gallery. As they entered the exhibition, Luna was in awe of the many paintings displayed, each one a masterpiece. She was certain the paintings here must cost a fortune. “Draco, this exhibition is so beautiful,” Luna whispered to him. “Which one do you like best?” Draco asked, his tone cool and flat. “That one.” Luna pointed to a painting of a woman holding a flower. Draco led Luna over to the painting. “You like this one?” Luna touched the painting gently. “Yes, it’s so beautiful.”

Summer had just begun, there was no reason she was charging so much to digest that information. When Artemisia stopped running her fingers through the yellowish leaves, there was a drawing made with charcoal and graphite at the beginning of that page. It was the drawing of a tall being and almost all made by shadows, Delfine tried to make a scenario for that thing, but all the young woman could understand from the scribbles was a half-open window and a crow in the chest.