Novel & Cerita Yandere Drawings

He was genuinely sick! "Don't throw them away," Lalisa said, a bit agitated as she approached. She loved drawing manga; it was her job and her passion. Besides Jayce Sherwood, it was the most precious thing to her. At the time, she wanted to let go of Jayce Sherwood, and the manga was what she treasured most. "I said this woman was merely innocent at first sight," Louis, not letting go even in the morning, jumped up and mockingly looked at her sketches, "But these... full of mature scenes, attractive uniforms, handcuffs, whips... So it turns out you like this kind of thing."

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.

“Darlin’, we’re in New Orleans. You want a crown? I’ll find you a crown.” “Condom crowns don’t count.” My mouth teased into a smirk. “Fuck. Back to my drawin’ board.” “If you can draw anything beyond a stick man and/or a penis, I’ll be very impressed.” “Blow job kind of impressed?” “Aiden.” Elena rested a hand on my thigh softly. “Can you draw anything other than a stick man or a penis?” I ran my tongue over my lips slowly and deliberately and grinned when her eyes flicked down. “I can probably draw an all right pair of tits.”

LYRA POV Even though the room was dimly lit, it couldn't hide what surrounded me. Drawings. Everywhere I looked, there were drawings of me. Me standing in the garden, sunlight catching my hair. Me sleeping, my face peaceful and relaxed. Me walking through corridors, my dress flowing behind me. Me laughing at something, joy captured in careful pencil strokes. My hands shook as I reached out to touch one of the papers. The detail was perfect. Every line of my face, every strand of hair, every small expression—all captured with stunning accuracy.

Her eyes are like And then it ends. My heart begins to pound. I rush towards the Beta’s corpse and pry the piece of paper from his hands, quickly opening it. My breath catches in my throat when I see what’s on the page–a crude drawing of a woman swathed in pencil-scratch gray, with a veil pulled over her head and broken antlers dangling crookedly. There’s something about the mania in the drawing, the panic, the desperation that makes me sick to my stomach.

Just unmarked leather and the weight of secrets waiting to be discovered. I opened it carefully, mindful of pages that looked fragile enough to crumble at a touch. The first page made me gasp aloud. Ink drawings filled the yellowed paper—not the crude sketches of an amateur, but artwork of remarkable skill and disturbing beauty. A wolf, massive and powerful, its eyes rendered in such detail I could swear they were watching me from the page. And beside it, a woman in flowing robes, her hand extended toward the beast as if in offering or benediction.

A scrapping of a chair breaks the deteriorating conversation across the dinner table, Athan moving his chair back and heading out to the hallway. “Athan what are you doing?” His mother calls out after him, her eyes flickering between Calian and me. “I’m…here…I made this earlier on.” He enters back into the room holding a folded piece of paper in his hands. Surprisingly, he doesn’t hand it to his father, or even his mother…but moves towards me, placing it out in front of me. “I drew this.” He looks up at me expectantly, waiting for me to take it from him. I do, unfolding the paper to reveal a drawing of a female dressed in a black jumpsuit, a black cape…long lilac purple hair and glowing eyes

“I’m sorry. I’m an Alpha. It’s in my nature, and despite everything, you’re still… my mate.” My cheeks heat a little at the reminder, but I shake my head again. “Get a grip on yourself next time. Ezra just wanted a portrait done to give to his girlfriend. If you consider that sexual, then you’ll be furious to find out that I drew fully nude men multiple times in college.” Arthur clears his throat. “You have?” I nod, glancing at him. “Yes. It’s common in figure drawing. It’s good to draw the body uninhibited by clothes, so that you can get a good grasp of the skeletal and muscular structure. I’ve drawn nude women, too.”

"You can look now, Ate Graziel." Graziel accepted the drawing with a warm smile. Three stick figures were drawn on the paper. One was a tall man. One was a little girl. And the last one was a woman with long hair. All three of them were holding hands. A gentle smile appeared on Graziel's face. "It's beautiful." "This is Daddy." Junie pointed at the tallest figure. "And this is me." Graziel nodded. "And this..." The little girl smiled brightly. "...is you."

It looks like I’m laughing, blissfully happy. My heart slams against my ribs as I flip to the next page, this one a drawing of me from the waist up, a mischievous grin on my face and my long hair covering my bare breasts. I flip to the next one. And the next one. Pages upon pages of my face, my body. There must be a hundred of them. Every single sketch is me.