Female Harry Potter Fan Art Mga Nobela at Kwento

"No way! This is not happening!" I said to myself while looking at the mirror. Why is the reflection on the mirror different? Her eyes, were glistening purple, sculpted upon her creamy face like dazzling amethyst. Strands of molten gold tumbled out of her scalp, cascading down her back like a waterfall. Lips as red as roses, crystal white teeth, hourglass-shaped body. This girl is the perfect cover for FHM magazine or she could be the next Victoria Secret Angel! Hold on, her appearance is similar to the character design of Valeria Falsen that I drew for Callista's novel.

But would Zukira want to change into a demoness? Art by me

Havermouth, Present Time Harry had done a lot of things in their time as vampire. They had travelled widely and lived decadently. They enjoyed beautiful things and considered themselves to be one of them. They had always taken care of themselves and revelled in the admiration of others. Consequently, they had been a muse for several successful, and sometimes unsuccessful, artists, and got a thrill when they visited art galleries and found their own image staring back down at them, although they knew that if Talen and Sigrid ever learnt of it, they would chastise them for their carelessness.

The onlookers once again became excited as they gossiped. ‘Why is the top fan staying up so late? Is he really here crazily liking all posts about Harmonia?’ ‘Although he is verified on Twitter, every single one of his posts is about Harmonia, including the likes. This is such a beautiful love story!’ ‘Hey, ladies, the top fan also liked posts about the young lover with silver hair. Could it be that he is also shipping the relationship between Harmonia and the young lover with silver hair?’ FMYL especially replied affirmatively to this comment: ‘Yes.’

Harry's answer caught my attention. Harry talked about Sora's aura. He was the only one who could talk about it so openly without asking for anything in return. Harry was a hybrid, born with the power of a werewolf and druid mixed together in his blood. I turned around to look at him. “What do you mean? No one's aura can change. Didn't you say that when we were in the academy? You said it to her when she was convinced that she could change her aura by training hard.” I asked Harry, my tone was laced with my anger.

Hannah is a full blooded witch! Dear readers, pls vote for my book, it needs to hit a rank for proper exposure, your gems and support would go a long way 👌🥺

And the spells were only for one thing. Sex. I flipped through all the pages, dumbfounded. There were pictures of naked people with arrows pointing to boobs or pussies or cocks, and instructions on the spells to cast to make them bigger or tighter or thicker. My jaw dropped when the next page I turned had a picture of a woman being fucked hard in the middle of a pentagon, by a wonderfully handsome man with horns and a tail. No shit. Demon sex.

And the best ones are always the BL girlies. They post fanart. Edits. Soft-core music videos of us with K-drama OSTs in the background. Sometimes Lucian sees them and mutters, “I don’t know whether to sue them or hire them.” And then proceeds to scroll through all of it anyway. He pretends to hate the attention, but I know he secretly loves being the villain in our love story. Because that’s what we are. Villain and chaos. Cold and color. Blood and brushstroke.

I stole my childhood friend’s doll. Then, he called to complain. I listened to him wail as the doll sat in my hand, its texture somehow akin to that of human skin. Under its skirt was something remarkably female. This left me confused. ‘Is this doll female or male?’ Then, more importantly… ‘Did it come with both organs? Or is this modified?’ He sounded hysterical over the line. Surprised by this, I accidentally squished the doll’s limbs a little.

The fabric caught the glow of my skin, making it gleam, while the silver threads seemed to mirror the shift in my eyes—hazel-green when calm, violet when stirred by Eira. Jamie-Leigh clasped her hands to her chest, her eyes wide. “That’s it. That’s the one. You look like the goddess herself touched you.” I turned toward the mirror, breathless. For the first time, I saw not just Amara, the girl pulled between wolf, lycan, and witch—but a woman who might stand at Blake’s side, who might hold a crown without faltering. “Yes,” I whispered. “This is it.” The Palace Transformed