Angel Izuku
(please do not repost, reblogs are however much appreciated)
You’re a renowned portrait artist, painting portraits for politicians, celebrities, you name it. Late one night, there’s a knock on your door. A nervous young man stands outside, pale, with elongated canine teeth. He’d like a portrait. Hasn’t seen his own face in over a century.
“They say it’s the silver backing but that’s bullshit.” He didn’t drink any of the tea they set out, but he held the warm mug as though it were a lifeline.
“Really?” They smile softly, sipping at their own mug. It wasn’t every night a vampire knocked at their door and politely requested a portrait, and this poor young man seemed in desperate need of someone to talk to.
I took a picture of my oil painting with an actual camera and it actually for once looks almost what it does in real life