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ㅤ Photo-art inspired by the book series "A Court of Thorns and Roses" by Sarah J. Maas, featuring the characters Rhysand and Feyre. ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ❝Friends by Fate❞ — I love it when you look at me like that, — he said softly. The purr of his voice made my blood boil. — How exactly? — Like my strength is not something to run away from. Like you see the real me. She entered the darkness, surrounded by foreign whispers. It was a place where the sun didn’t shine, yet every breath carried the scent of blood and magic, sinking into her soul. Each glance pulled her toward the ground — it seemed even the stone walls wanted to make her bow her head. He first noticed her when she already appeared worn out. Some would say she couldn’t stand it — too fragile, too human. But still, she stood tall, despite the harshness around her. She was broken, but not destroyed, and in that, he saw a spark. When everything went wrong and her strength left her, he stepped forward. A deal. She hated those words, that silken voice, his eyes piercing straight into her heart. A deal — the only thing that separated her from death. One evening. One week each month. He gave her time to think, though his gaze carried no doubt she would agree. She had no choice. Days under the darkness turned into weeks. The trials pressed against her body, tore at her mind. He wasn’t a hero, he watched from afar. It seemed he came only to laugh at her struggle. But every evening, their gazes met, and she began to notice: behind his smiles, there was more than he was willing to show. When she almost lost hope, he reached out, breaking her solitude. After the first trial, he pulled her from bloody horror, from crippling pain. He handed her a glass of something that healed her body, saying nothing. That gesture — and the promise. The moment he brushed her hand with color was the birth of something that would take them both forward. He remained on the edge. Rough, mocking, sometimes frightening. He stood in the shadows of those who caused terror in this place, but his actions were different. He supported when needed. Strengthened when she was about to break. Still, she didn’t trust him. A shadow would never become light, she told herself. They became closer than she would admit, but the moment of truth came when her powers proved useless. In the last moment, when everything was lost, when she fell at the feet of the monster, he defied fate. Her heart stopped. The world froze. For the first time, he felt like he might lose something he had never considered his. And yet, her departure seemed impossible. The darkness came alive in his eyes. When they carried her body forward, to those who ruled this world, he convinced everyone to save her. He stood in silence, and the words turned into ancient vows. She returned. But when she came back, she was different. She could not forget what they had gone through together. His gaze no longer seemed hostile — on the contrary, it became one of the few who knew her weaknesses but accepted them. Every day, she learned more about him. What she had mistaken for mockery turned out to be care. What seemed like detachment hid mountains of pain. They didn’t become a couple instantly. But after months and years, their souls connected in a way she could never have imagined before. He turned out to be neither her master nor her shadow — he became her equal. The one who stood by her side, allowing her to illuminate her own path. Now, as they walk through life together, the past remains a part of their world, but it no longer drags them down. Together, they are two sides of a whole: he, who found the light, and she, who embraced the darkness."

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❝𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞❞ photoshop

In the depths of an ancient temple shrouded in eternal darkness, a mysterious woman sits with an open book in her hands. Light emanates not only from the full moon illuminating her figure but also from the spirits that hover around her, casting an ethereal glow. These ghostly figures are the souls she has summoned to uncover the secrets hidden within ancient spells.

Her dress, embroidered with silver stars, flows gracefully around her like an extension of the surrounding mist. In her gaze lies unshakable determination. She knows that each spirit will tell its story, and every whisper will reveal a truth of the past.

In the woman’s left hand burns a blue magical flame — a sign of her profound connection to the otherworldly realm. The book she holds is an artifact of immense power; its pages shimmer with symbols that awaken the forces of the ancients. The emblem on its cover hints at the hidden wisdom she yearns to grasp.

With every step in her research, she moves closer to solving the mystery, yet each answer only breeds new questions. The spirits circling her are not just companions; they are the souls of those once lost in the pursuit of truth. Now they are her guides, and it is up to her alone to decide whether she will find her way out of this labyrinth of magic and darkness.

This night may be her last, but for her, that does not matter. The only thing that counts is uncovering the truth, no matter how terrible it might be, and if it costs her life, she is ready to face that challenge.

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ "Sometimes the most unexpected moments become the brightest, like a star's flash in the night. They leave a mark not just on the photo but on the soul."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤThe Quidditch practice was in full swing. Harry shot past one of the goal rings in a flash, Ron hovered a bit higher, as focused on the balls as always, and Ginny was chasing the Quaffle with an expression of absolute determination. Everything was going as usual until Lisa, one of the team members, descended from her broom and approached the edge of the field.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ"Hey, guys!" she shouted, smiling and waving her hand. "Could you take a picture of me with the background? I want to remember this moment!"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤHarry raised an eyebrow, trying to hold back his laughter: ㅤㅤㅤㅤ"We're kind of in the middle of practice, Lis."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ"Oh yeah, because practice absolutely needs to be immortalized," Ginny added with heavy sarcasm, dramatically sighing.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ"Yeah, next time, let’s snap a shot of Harry crashing into the stands," Ron chimed in, laughing as he waved his bat.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤLisa laughed, paying no mind to their teasing. She brought her broom close, carefully positioned herself against the backdrop of the training team, and smiled a wide grin as though this was an official photo for the Daily Prophet cover.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ"Go on, take it already!" she yelled at one of the guys with the camera, continuing to pose.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤAs soon as the camera shutter clicked, a whistling sound rang out. A Bludger suddenly zoomed past, narrowly missing her head, and happened to end up in the shot, hovering in the air right next to Lisa.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ"Perfect shot with the Bludger in the frame!" Ron laughed, giving a thumbs-up.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ"This is definitely going to be the photo of the year!" Ginny added.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤLisa had only just begun lowering her broom when she felt a light hit—the Bludger had brushed against her broom and lightly struck her wrist. She wobbled but regained her balance, rubbing her arm a bit.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ"Looks like I should’ve been training instead of posing!" Lisa laughed, slightly massaging her wrist.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ"At least now you’ve got a memorable photo and an injury," Harry teased as he descended from his broom.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ"Well, the shot is definitely going to be epic!" Lisa grinned, still enjoying the fun despite the small incident.

photo art based on the Harry Potter books photoshop

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❝𝐀 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬❞ photo art based on the Harry Potter books, Looters photoshop

On a quiet, snowy night, Hogsmeade shone with its lanterns and shop windows, their lights glistening on the snow in vivid colors. The air was rich with the scent of gingerbread cookies and hot butterbeer drifting out of the local tavern. However, the four friends known to the world as the Marauders were enjoying the evening in their own way.

Sirius Black, confidently holding the Marauder's Map, was muttering quickly under his breath as he plotted another incredible route. His coal-black hair shimmered with snowflakes, and the mischievous smile on his face promised something grand. “If we sneak through the basement of the Three Broomsticks, we’ll definitely avoid Filch… and end up at the Ghostly Tower. It’s brilliant, right?” he said, pointing at the map.

"Brilliant, if you’d just skip your habit of turning everything into a spectacle," James Potter countered, standing to the right. He laughed, adjusting his scarf slightly and peering at the map. “Padfoot, you’re glowing so brightly any portrait could spot you.”

To Sirius's left, Remus Lupin calmly gazed at the map. His composed posture and attentive look created a strange contrast to his friends' impulsive energy. “Don’t forget that your last brilliant plan ended with a sprint up the stairs and a screeching Filch. So maybe tonight we should be as careful as possible,” he advised, raising a brow.

“Hey, but that was a great escape!” Peter Pettigrew chimed in, standing next to Lupin. He rubbed his hands together, trying to keep warm. “And anyway, you dragged me into it. I wasn’t ready!”

“Oh, sure you weren’t,” Sirius smirked, thrusting the map right in front of Peter. “Wormtail, we’ve got you figured out: you’re the one who can win anyone over with a pitiful look and get anything— even the keys to a secret basement.”

“Me? Why me?!” Peter protested, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Because Moony covers for us when we mess up, Prongs designs the plans, and I execute them. You’re the logistical key!” James teased, winking as he lightly draped an arm over Peter's shoulder.

Remus sighed, suppressing a smile. “Do you two ever stop to think about just how reckless all this is? Or am I going to have to drag your robes out of the fire again?”

“No fire tonight!” Sirius declared cheerfully, unfolding the map and jabbing his finger at their route. “Just glory, great discoveries… and maybe a bit of butterbeer.”

They all burst out laughing, and for a moment, the street was filled with the warmth of their friendship, as if the frost didn’t exist at all.

“What if we get caught?” Peter asked nervously.

“We’ll say we were helping Mrs. Norris look for kittens!” James replied, adjusting his glasses.

This statement triggered another wave of laughter so loud that curtains in several houses began to twitch. But who cared about that when a new story was waiting ahead?

And yet the snow continued to fall, coating the streets in a light, fragile layer, as if trying to remember this moment— the laughter, the glow of shop windows, and the voices of four friends ringing out in the frosty night. The map would show them new paths, and time would leave behind memories that, sadly, would one day be touched by the chill of another winter.

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photo art, based on fan fiction Secrets and Masks (Dramione)

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photo art based on the book "Vampire Academy"