Marceline Drawing Novels & Stories

Now, standing before the mirror, she felt only a slow, simmering disgust at how easily she had accepted being caged. She turned slightly, watching the fabric move with her, the open back was revealing more skin than she thought. For the first time in a long while, Marceline felt… good. The realization came quietly, slipping in between breaths as she stood before the vanity. She reached for her makeup and took her time with it, with intention. She smoothed her complexion, brightened her eyes, and softened what the other days had bruised without trying to erase it. She traced her eyeliner a little sharper than usual, lifted her lashes, and chose a deep, seductive red for her lips.

- Bennett/ Marceline explained in a soft voice, her fingers adjusting the edges her glasses. I smiled, my eyes studying Bennett's assumably timid figure. "Marceline ......things like these aren't that hard for you to do. It all depends on whether you are interested in doing it - or not." - I said slowly. Marceline eyes widened,her eyes staring at me as though she'd been caught doing something very terrible. Well what she had done wasn't far from it. "Imagine how much traffic you could get by releasing some awful articles about a big Star as Irina - It could gather a nation wide worth of attention. Isn't that why you clung to me?" - I locked eyes with her, watching as her expression turned de

His reluctance was apparent in his tone. Marisol held back a laugh and pinched his nose. "Alright, I get it. I'll just draw one little animal, okay?" Orion felt embarrassed and buried his head in Marisol's arms, refusing to look up. That meant he agreed. It was perfect. There were still a few lanterns left from the ones Julius had bought last time. She casually picked up a flower lantern and drew a large, adorable yellow and white striped kitten on one of the big leaves. …

V, the only part of the twenty first century that remains is the open laptop sat at the foot of his bed. It stands out like a sore thumb amongst the intricately carved wooden furniture and artwork of the female form in various stages of undress. I expected the art although perhaps not this specifically. I had imagined him to be more drawn to architecture than portraiture. Marcel is a visual being, whenever we have meetings he is the one who insist on maps, diagrams, visual representations of everything. What I had certainly not expected was a family portrait. The painting of a slightly younger Marcel and the people I assume are his parents, hangs in pride of place above the fireplace mantel.

Elsewhere, Marcel stared at his laptop screen, smiling with satisfaction. "You think you're safe... but I have my next step planned. And this time, no one can evade it." As Marcel spoke, the disfigured woman came to see him, as she was now working as Marcel's maid. "You are a great man, Mr. Marcel. Why don't you just take Alice?" "It's not time yet. Why have you come to see me?"

Marcel: The map on the table was still spread open, weighted at the corners with carved stones, but I hadn’t looked at it in minutes. “Are you sure that you are in a right state of mind to be discussing maps, Marcel?” Vladimir asked, and I hummed in response, not bothering to look up from the papers sprawled in front of me.

Imela’s POV A few faces here tonight were familiar, and I tried to get acquainted with them. Marcel and Ocean were gone for longer than I expected, but I figured this was their way of catching up with each other. Soon, Carol led Ocean back to us. I thanked her, and the older woman smiled and took her leave. "What do you and Marcel do?” “He showed me the collection of his Legos. He built a city with them. It was big and beautiful.” He replied.

Marcel exchanged fleeting glances with me and anxiety crept at the back of my neck when he locked gazes with me because why in the world was he staring at me in that dreamy manner? Trying to change the conversation, I said. “What are you doing here?” He chuckled and I palmed my forehead. “I saw you guys” Marcel covered Sage’s eyes. “You didn't see anything” “I did, I saw a lot” I took Sage by the hands leading him to the couch. “Where are your brothers?” “They are having their afternoon nap but I have been busy sketching a family picture of us. It isn't ready yet but soon” Marcel's eyes brightened as he sat right next to us. “I can't wait to see it!”

Cross chuckled, the sound low and cold as it echoed through the cavernous study. His figure leaned back against the plush leather chair like a king surveying his court—a cruel, calculating monarch basking in his dominion. Marceline stood stiffly across from him, her arms folded tightly across her chest as though trying to hold herself together. Her jaw clenched. “Do you find this amusing?” she asked, voice trembling beneath the weight of fury she refused to unleash. “Do you think I can’t do it?”

I traced the curve of her waist to her ass better and added the finishing details to her legs and the ocean washing up to it. It was almost perfect. All it needed to look exactly like the original was color but I didn't color my drawings. I never had, I had never thought painting it would make it better, either. But every time I drew Madelaine, I wanted the color to be in there. I shut my drawing book and kept it safe away from the water. Madelaine’s eyes were still closed, she must have fallen asleep. “Are you sleeping?” I asked, and she groaned, opening her eyes groggily.