Oc Characters Drawings Novels & Stories

Leo cheered, skidding to a halt beside my chair and thrusting the paper right into my lap. I looked down at the drawing, a soft, involuntary smile breaking across my face. It was drawn in bold, vibrant colors. In the center was a stone castle with blue flags on the turrets. Standing in the grass out front were three stick-figure people holding hands. On the left was a figure with black hair in a red dress labeled Mommy. On the right was a broad figure colored in black crayon labeled Mr. Tyson. And right between them, holding both of their hands with a yellow smiley face, was a smaller figure labeled Leo.

There, hidden behind a curtain of weeping carbon-fiber vines, was a small, dilapidated shack. "What is this?" I asked. "The only place the grid can't see," Xander said. He pulled back the vines, and I saw a wall covered in jagged, hand-drawn charcoal sketches. I gasped. The sketches weren't of buildings or machines. They were of us. There was a drawing of a man and a woman standing in a mountain of gold; a drawing of a girl with a wooden ring; a drawing of a man with orange eyes holding a woman in the rain.

There were ten students sketching a dinosaur on the teacher's desk, not to be naughty, but to while away time. Oliver was part of those students. He stood hunched over the desk, with a charcoal between his lips, and a pencil poised in his palm and forefinger. There was a hazy image of a dinosaur, that seemed to be dated to the 70s at the back of his mind's eye as he sketched. It brought an electric buzz through his pencil.

Instead, he habitually bit the pen barrel, then pulled out a blank sheet of paper, placed his tiny hand on it, and drew five contorted fingers. After finishing the drawing, Owen carefully poked each finger one by one with his pencil. "1, 2, 3... 11, 12, 13, 14, 15..." The little one counted like reciting a sutra. Zack's head was spinning from all the reading. After finally counting "15" with great difficulty, Owen immediately started counting "17" and drew one line after another in the blank space while counting. Then, Owen drew the coils and started counting them one by one. "1, 2, 3..."

Such a childish and girly tantrum. I covered my face. This was truly embarrassing. It was a good thing that I am the only person seeing this. I could not let Lucas know that I have such a habit before! This would be my secret until the day I die! "Mom, look here! I draw myself and mom!" My mother and I looked at the drawing book. There were two stick figures on the paper. The taller stick has long hair and a big smile with very long lashes that expand longer than the ears. While the shorter stick has twig tails and a small smile.

But that wasn’t what he was drawing today. There was a picture of two girls—rendered crudely in crayon, but still identifiable as girls. One of them had short blond hair and the other had long brown braids. Their hands were on their faces and their mouths open in screams. David had drawn these as big black circles. A huge black shadow hovered before them, a shapeless body with red eyes and clearly defined hands. The hands looked like long silver knives. There were many drawings before this one. Lauren wondered how long David had been at it.

I sketched that at least a couple of weeks before Orlando got the call about his father. "Oh, I must see the others," Charles says. "I'd love it if you could send them to me." "I actually have my sketchbook right here," I admit, tentatively reaching into my bag. "But I'll warn you again - they're nothing special. Just little things I did for fun." I flip through my notebook until I find one of my other pictures of Orlando. I didn't know how to draw him as a sexy alpha wolf, so instead, I sketched him morphing from a man into a half-man, half-wolf, werecreature.

- C XOXO 📝 Caleb Draven

No reason, she's just never liked them. She took a brief search around the room and found a book and pen. She returned to the bed and started drawing on it. Yeah, Octavia was quite good at art. She loved it. She leaned her back against the wall and drew what she had in mind perfectly. It was a car. She was only good at drawing objects and has never attempted to draw a human. She drew the car perfectly and despite the fact it wasnt colored, she still admired it. She's always admired her works.

In the end, I think they turned out great. Not that I knew what the others were for but there was also a frog on a log, a humming bird and a fat Cardinal. The very last one I was drawing was for Arlo. He got those picture for us, or more for me. It was of a wolf. It’s head was downward with his teeth showing. The hair was standing straight up with a human skull under it’s paw. There wasn’t any flesh on it, just the bones. Originally, I was going to make it a dead rabbit or something but this seemed appropriate. Keeping this one black and white, kept some of the mystery alive. “Charlotte??” Waylon yelled as he was coming in.