Hestia Drawings Novels & Stories

"The what?" Aiden proudly lifted the parchment, presenting it with a triumphant flourish. It was a masterpiece of terrible stick figures. There was a tall, blocky man with a jagged golden crown, a woman wearing an oversized silver tiara, a small blob representing a little boy, a giant black dog with six legs, a glowing stick figure surrounded by yellow loops, and a final girl drawn with aggressively angry V-shaped eyebrows. Kael let out a long, dry sigh. "Let me guess. The one with the furious eyebrows is your long-lost aunt?"

He had accepted twenty-four of the thirty Harriet had initially proposed and rejected six on grounds he articulated with complete clarity: three were too similar to others and the repetition added nothing, two were technically imprecise in ways that would bother him every time he looked at the book, and one was too personal to share in the specific way it was personal, being a drawing he had made of himself alone in the dark of his room in the period before Aria arrived, which he said was accurate but not for public reading. Harriet had accepted all of his reasoning and removed the six drawings without argument, which Luca received as appropriate. The first drawing in the book was the one he

He leads the way up the stairs to the room we were just in with the dead werewolf. He grabbed his notepad from his desk and flickered through the pages when he stops and shows us his drawing. It was a circle with 5 spikes making it look like a star. It kind of looks like a star with a moon inside. It is hard to describe. I don't really know what to make of it. I look at Kristy who is studying the drawing, wondering if she knows what it means. "It's the Hunters mark," she says

“I had to work backward from chaos.” Rhys took the napkin and opened it to compare. A rough drawing was in the middle of the faded fabric, and it looked almost identical to the ring he held. Thalia had done an amazing job bringing the sketch to life. The drawing was old, smudged, dirty, and terrible. At the bottom of the drawing, in faded ink, sat a single letter: H. His hands brushed over the coffee stains.

I curtesy playfully “The room looks better.” They let out a chuckle. Athena plops herself on my bed "I absolutely love your room, so cute and small..." “Nah. You just love the owner of the room.” I say, sticking my tongue to her. She closes her eyes, relishing the moment. Obviously, Athena is my one weird princess. Prince Ares stands staring at the wall “What are these drawings Hermione?” He asks. I make to my feet, standing beside him. The drawing looks strange. “I really don't know Prince Ares, I haven't seen this, and it looks so new. I didn't make this...” I say

Soon, Blake's image began to emerge: his strong jawline with its light beard, the wisps of hair that fell over his brow, his eyes raptly focused on the book in front of him. "There." Her voice was satisfied. She'd been drawing for half an hour. Blake's expression was interested. "Let's see." Shasta moved his book and sat on his lap, allowing him to peer over her shoulder at the drawing. Reaching around her, he held the sketchpad, tilting it so that he could see it clearly. He'd forgotten the drawing he'd seen the day after the storm when he'd packed up her things. This one was as good, if not better. She'd captured his physical appearance, but there was something about the way she dre

A BLUE donkey tattoo. Then, Leonidas had locked himself up, scared, because he already knew the stories of the children who had a different colour than they were supposed to have, and asides that. He was not even chosen by a higher goddess. But the lowest of them all. Hestia. A slaves Patron. A son of a Zeus Familia who suddenly had the emblem of Hestia on his back. How would he explain himself? How could he even start? Would they even listen to his side?

“And let us see if there was a mistake that happened earlier.” “Why would I follow your order?” “I said,” Zarion's husky and steel voice echoed in the room, “call your fiancee and tell her to get her ass. Right. Now.” Alpha Brandon’s head turned upwards and I saw how his jaw clenched. Silence reverberated in the temple for as long as I can remember. I believe he was now calling her fiancee—or let me change that term—he was mind-linking Hestia to come here to the magnificent Moon Goddess’ Temple. It didn’t take any more time because a fairy-looking woman was sauntering towards our front; her glistening skin was as white as Snow White, complimenting the vibrant bloody red dress she was wearing

she added. Gulping down the last drop of her wine, Hestia went back to her working room. Unlike the tidy set-up of all the rooms in her house, her working room was like the aftermath of an earthquake and a hurricane. Papers were scattered on the floor, most of them crumpled into a messy ball. On the right side, a large corkboard took up the entire wall, displaying a lot of sketches, both colored and uncolored. Most of them featured wedding gowns of different styles. They were not hers though, but her sister's, Mavis. On the left side, a long magnet board stood where Hestia's current works were on full display. Instead of working on them, she walked towards the back of her wooden desk. A smal

Taking out his pencil to draw. Naevia sat on a stool, which Zane checked first before he allowed her to sit on. She posed for the artist to draw, and he didn't waste their time. "Ta-da!" He said, lifting his hands up. Naevia gets so excited that she begged the artist to let her see. Zane goes over to see it first. The artist had drawn Naevia as a beautiful pregnant queen, sitting on a throne. Zane likes it and thanks the artist. "This is beautiful Naevia. Look at it," Zane said, showing her the drawing.