i colored his eyes normal kinda


i tried to figure out how to make the design for shadow in this au to be more obviously different than normal shadow and ended up drawing silver too? also there’s 2 silvers. don’t worry about it. also my pen pressure wouldnt work while i was drawing these so thats why theyre kinda bad-looking

the 2 silvers don’t actually have different eye colors i just thought it would be cool if his eyes changed color when he did the telekinetic-y thing, also the forehead quill things would fold down like that when he’s not doing the telekinesis thing which is actually something i remember seeing some concept art of (i think it got removed because it was hard to animate or something? i dont remember) also the weird headphone things might have also been from some different concept art but i dont entirely remember. i used to look at silver concept art a lot for some reason 

Preference # 69


Niall: His beautiful pale face wasn’t so pale anymore, instead it was covered in dirt and grime, and a few bits of blood. He had a pained expression on, his body figure looked slouchy, almost as if he were about to collapse. He startled you coming in to the kitchen, where he flung himself into the nearest chair next to the counter island. “Y/N !!! I got hurt” Niall cried out. “Bloody hell Niall, what happened?” You asked. “Well, I was playing football with the boys outside the studio and I slipped on the ball and hit my face on the concrete ground.” You cringed your face, imagining the scene. “Aw, honey.” You cooed. “Come here let me clean you up.” You gestured to the counter where you pulled out a seat in front of the sink. You got the first aid kit out, with all the alcohol and the bandages. “Now, stay very still.” You instructed. You dabbed one of Niall’s cuts with the alcohol towelette and he hissed. “Y/n it stings!!!” He cried out. “I know, honey, I know, but you don’t want them to get infected on your pretty little face do you?” You said while he smirked a bit. Niall had let you proceed and finish dabbing the cuts but not before hissing a few times, and cringing, and backing away, and even letting a few profanity words slip out, you know just being his own dramatic self. “All better?” You asked kissing him on the cheek. “A little……..” He said, turning away from you so he could smile.

Louis: “And player Louis Tomlinson goes for the goal……… Look at that kick…… Oh wait…….. And *bam* player __________ Goes and tackles him…….Looks like Tomlinson is hurt pretty baldy, he’s hesitant to get off the ground……Looks like he got pretty scratched up… That’s a bummer.” The speaker said. You heart stopped mid game when you saw Louis being tackled to the ground. Your smile turned into a trembling nervous face and all you wanted to do was go be on the field with him. He cried out for help, obviously hurt. He was laying on the ground hesitant to get up, when the people with the stretcher came out and onto the field carrying him out. You immediately rushed to the locker room, guessing that they were heading there. You ran as fast as you can, wind blowing into your face, hair flying everywhere, heart beating so loud you were sure people could here it from a mile away. All you wanted to know was if Louis was okay. You opened the door to the locker room hands slippery to the door nob. And there he was, laying on the stretcher will tears in his eyes and his leg propped up. All of the men surrounding him were talking to each other probably figuring out what to do, but you pushed pass them and cupped Louis face. “I’m so happy your ok” you breathed out, still not able to catch your breath. “Y/N” He got out, tears slipping out of his eyes. “It’s ok, it’s ok, your fine, just a few wounds.” You said trying to cheer him up. “It’s ok” You said once again kissing his forehead. 

Harry: “Harry, you didn’t have to do that, we could’ve just left, and problem solved, look, now your all scratched up and hurt.” “He was looking at you Y/N ! What did you expect me to do ?” “Uh” You sighed knowing Harry was going to be stubborn as always. “Whats mine is mine, end of story” He said. His eyes were stormy and furious, looking closer to black then to his normal light green. His hair was covered in sweat, dripping down to his forehead, and his face was covered in small droplets of blood. You took Harry’s hand and squeezed it tightly, hoping that would cam him down. “Listen Harry, I’m yours !!! I’m not going anywhere, I’m not going to fall for some other guy, it’s you, only you, so don’t worry.” You said pecking him on the lips. His facial expression softened, and his eyes color turned back to normal. “I’m sorry” he said, now head in his hands. “Haz don’t be sorry, it’s ok, kinda you know brave of you standing up for me and stuff .” You said smirking. “Really?” he said, pearly whites now showing, smile on his face. “Really” “Now lets get you cleaned up shall we?” You said kissing his cheek. 

Liam: "Ow!!! Ow ! Ow !!! Stop it please it hurts Y/N it hurts !!!“ He yelled loudly. "Shhh Liam, I know it hurts, but your being over dramatic.” You said finger on his lips. “It hurts……” He whined leaning into your shoulder, hiding his face in your neck. “I know Liam, shh it’s ok.” You told him, rubbing his back. His torso had a huge cut on it because he was trying to do a cool trick next to the pool, but failed and hit his stomach on the sharp ledge. “It’s not that bad, let me see it again.” You said trying to make him cheer up. He turned around, and you saw the cut right on the middle of his left rib cage. “Oh look, it’s already looking better !!” You went to dab it with the towel but he backed away. Once again, you slowly went to clean it and this time Liam let you. You tried to be gentle and soft with every touch and eventually it worked, the wound was all cleaned up. “Thank you Y/N” He said.

Zayn: “No, no, no, no please Y/N please, no, that stings.” He whined. “Zayn honey, I know it stings, but please, you won’t get infected.” You said trying to reason with him. He squirmed under your touch and you gave him a reassuring kiss to help him stay still. He winced and moved away from the alcohol, “I don’t like it.” He said pouting. “Zayn it’s your fault that you tried to skateboard with Louis and fell, not mine, we have to clean it now.” You said sternly. “Ok” he gave in. “Look it’s not even that bad anymore!” You said trying to convince him. He took a look at his scraped elbow and smirked. “Ehh it’s alright.” He said giving you a kiss. 

Penwright looked down at her, noticing the vines and flowers on her head.  “Where did those come from?” he asked.  “Did the wind blow that inside?"  With a shrug, his horn started to glow, and Ickle saw with dismay the magical field covering her laurel.

"No!  Don’t remove it just yet!  Don’t you see who I am?” she thought frantically.

But the laurel remained on her head, and the glow dissipated.  Penwright looked at her more thoughtfully, his expression pensive.

“You know…” he said slowly, as though thinking out loud, “you do kinda resemble a friend of mine.  She normally wears laurels in her hair, and, now that I think about it, your fur has a similar color as her coat and mane.”

Her eyes shone and she felt her breath catching slightly as she realized that he might’ve finally recognized her.  Hidden under the veil of species differences, she cried out “It’s me!” and reared back on her hind legs, pressing her soft paws against his leg.  Unfortunately, all Penwright would hear was a meow, but her eyes slowly closed in the cat fashion of expressing great happiness.

Penwright chuckled and stroked her fur, brushing off the vines and flowers.  “Well, you’re certainly as friendly as she is,” he remarked.  “She’s very easy to talk to, very approachable about anything, really.”

His eyes looked off to the side.  “Well, maybe not everything,” he amended.  “She…"  He paused, as though choosing his words carefully.  "I feel that…it’s hard to express any kind of affection for her, save for just the general kind between friends.”

At his words, she was confused.  “Affection? I thought that I was welcoming of talking about that..?”  She remembered when others had teased her in regards to mistletoe last Hearth’s Warming, but she implored him, circling his hoof and bumping her head against it.  "What do you mean?“

In the back of her mind she could feel an inkling of an idea what he meant, implying that he wanted to see her as something other than a friend…but what?  Something more affectionate?  As a mentor, then?  Her ears swiveled in confusion and she felt her brows pushing down in bemusement.

"I mean, we did have a moment over Hearth’s Warming,”  he continued as he sat down on the floor, idly stroking her fur, “but…"  He paused again, and when he continued, he sounded more like he was thinking out loud to himself than actually talking to her, or at least to a cat.

"I love her,” he finally said.  “She’s a wonderful pony, extremely creative, outgoing and friendly, and she just…inspires me.  Not just with my writing, though the stars know that she’s done that considerably, but…just with life in general.  She rekindles my enthusiasm for just about everything.”

A clicking of old gears began in her mind again, akin to when she and Penwright had shared a kiss on the cheek in the library of Petina’s home…they were clicking thoughts together in an order that she feared, in an order that meant that, somehow, she had earned the special sort of love that Inkweld had once held for her…Penwright felt that way?  She could hardly believe it.  She felt a feline blush erupting on her body, her fur prickling and her tail twitching at its base, as her eyes froze on his face.  She felt a strong rumbling in her chest, a loud purring, as she thought to herself Penwright…loves me…?

With swiveling ears she tried to tamp down the pull in her heart to believe that he could’ve possibly meant that, and she released a single “meow” as she asked, “Really…?” suddenly hoping that he wouldn’t recognize her at that particular moment, embarrassed as she was with the uncontrollable purring in her throat.

“I know, right?” he said, apparently still not understanding what she was saying.  “But…I still find it hard to tell her that.  There’s…something about her that makes me feel bad for wanting to say that."  He shook his head.  "No, scratch that, not feel bad, but feel like it might be unwelcomed.”

He was quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts.  “I suppose I don’t know why I feel that way.  Maybe it’s just my own lack of self-confidence.  I…just don’t want to feel like I’m imposing on her."  He shook his head again.  "Or maybe I just don’t want to feel rejected.  I don’t know.  Just thinking about telling her this is scary enough.  I had an opportunity at Hearth’s Warming, but I didn’t follow through with it.  I just got this feeling that she didn’t want to move in that direction just yet.  That’s fine, but…”

He sighed.  “I wish I was better at reading ponies.  I can figure out fictional characters perfectly, but with real ponies I struggle.  Go figure.”

It was exactly as she had feared.  Her heart raced wildly as she pulled her paws away from his leg, feeling her body pull itself away from him.  Every fiber in her body wanted to be back in her old body so she could pull him into her arms and kiss him and tell him she felt the exact same way, but on the other hoof, Inkweld’s dark, forboding voice echoed in her mind the same words he had tortured into her heart, carved into scars on her body, and crushed into her mind: “a muse is not to be loved, but to be seen.  You belong to me.”

She wanted to reject it—dearly, she did—and she was getting close, but still her paws pulled her away, and before she knew it she had leapt straight from the floor to the sill, and leapt in inconceivable feline agility from the sill, darting down the tree, and across the lawn.  She couldn’t see what she was doing, all she could think about was the heart-gripping, startling realization that Penwright, her dearest friend, was in love with her in the same intense, embarrassed fervor as her.  And as her eyes blurred with wind and tears in her eyes, she ran towards her home.