Jevil Artwork Novels & Stories

"Oh, the first artwork, huh?" Jade’s tone stretched out with a hint of mockery. "That’s certainly meaningful. Not just a 1,000 dollars, it’s worth even 10,000 dollars. But..." Her voice sharpened abruptly as she continued. "What about this kind of painting?" Somehow, she produced another painting and thrust it in front of everyone. Everyone craned their necks to see and immediately burst into laughter. The painting in Jade’s hand was a chaotic splash of watercolors, a careless mess of colors resembling a child’s scribble, devoid of any artistic merit.

My mouth twitched ever so slightly. It wasn't just the subject itself that amused me, but the amount of detail used. Ivy had put the creases next to Celeste's eyes in the painting. They were slightly exaggerated, as were the wrinkles on her forehead and the slight sagging of her breasts beneath her clothes. "Do you see how she's encouraging Rosalie to be so disobedient!" Celeste demanded shrilly, "Ivy's painting is highly offensive to me!" "Art is meant to evoke deep feelings for the one who looks at it," Ivy said blithely, "so I take the fact you are offended as a success."

So, they call me brother. Ishaan and Jagat are my next younger brothers and Aadhvi(Baby girl), and Chhaya(princess) are my sisters. They are twins. After we had triplets, it was Ishaan and Jagat, my uncle's kids, and they were born as twins. They are the most loved and pampered ones at home. We all 5 brothers love those two too much. If some new people see us they will be shocked to hear that we all are not from the same mother. What if we are not from the same mother we all are family and our two mothers never treated us separately? So, we don't like to be called cousins. We get angry even if someone says that. They all love me and until I wake up and go to them they won't get out of bed. M

That curiosity had now mutated into an addiction that burned his soul mercilessly. Elsewhere, in a spacious minimalist room located in a corner of Blackthorne Mansion and used as a private art studio, the rich scent of linseed oil and acrylic paint filled the air. A yellow spotlight had been positioned directly toward a large canvas resting on a wooden easel. Azriel stood before it wearing a fabric apron already stained with colorful splashes. His pale, long fingers moved with extraordinary agility, guiding a fine-tipped brush across the canvas with almost insane precision. Azriel's face appeared utterly relaxed, yet his dark eyes radiated an intense obsession.

Just truth. The studio, once a haven for polished art and refined aesthetics, had transformed into a space where raw emotions and unfiltered expressions found a home. The walls, once pristine and white, now bore the marks of countless visitors who had come to share their truths. Each mark was a testament to the human experience, a glimpse into the depths of the soul that often remained hidden beneath layers of societal expectations and personal insecurities. Jo and Franc began a series of pieces—each one raw, unfinished, and deliberately unpolished. Their work was a reflection of the studio’s new ethos, a celebration of imperfection and authenticity.

This international showcase was the biggest milestone in her career—yet now, everything was at risk, threatened by a baseless accusation. “Who leaked it first?” Evelyn asked quietly. “A French design critic, Antoine Vallee. But the suspicious part is—he got concept sketches of your collection before they were ever published,” Sandra replied, voice tense. “It’s as if someone leaked it from the inside.” Evelyn turned her gaze to her work displayed in the heart of the gallery. The collection, titled Vita Dopo il Dolore—Life After Pain—featured organic-shaped jewelry with fractured curves and crystal-covered cracks. Every piece was a symbol of transformation, from suffering into beauty.

CAMILLE’S POV Nervous was not enough to describe how I was feeling. It felt like someone had me tied down with a bucket of rats over my stomach, lit the bucket on fire and the rats had no way to escape except through my stomach. Yeah, that was a better description than nervous. Mr. Vince was perusing the artwork that I had selected to display for the art fair. “These are all splendid, yes splendid works.” He smiled, “I don’t think I can pick just anyone, so why don’t we just display all of them?”

However, in an instant, I saw my photo which is a chibi art version of me, next a profile of a man with a Bullet picture. That chibi art version of me was created by Jill. That b*tch is kinda talented too. It was the photo that I decided to use for this dating site in order to protect my identity. Afterall, I am now the kind of a woman who showed off her face because I must admit, and I am proud of it, I inherited the beauty of my mother.

It was completely original. Their artwork was amazing and they finished masterpiece after masterpiece without any effort. Sharon’s drawings were at times so realistic, they could have been photographs and at other times, they looked like moving animations, changing expression depending on which angle you looked at them. Jenny even drew an amazing picture of the whole library, it looked like she had included every book, all in such fine detail. I spent hours staring at it, trying to find something wrong with it, but it was perfect. Mr. Haddidi was very impressed with them too. He was constantly complementing their work and looking way too pleased every day in class. He’d come into class and p

“Limited edition painting. If you wanna buy it, you gotta place a bid. Or, get them for free if you sign up for the club.” He shrugged, feeling victorious. The people were silent, unsure of what to say. Malorie stepped forward, still gaping at the painting. “You…” she began. “It’s marvelous, isn’t it?” Cain boasted. “It’s...marvelously bad!” Malorie exclaimed. “What the hell is this?” She pointed at the painting consisting of stick figures in different colors. The shapes were off, looking like an artwork by a kindergarten student. “This is comic art!” Cain claimed. “This looks as if a child drew it!” she hissed. “This isn’t how you make a comic strip!”