A CROW'S CH ARTBOOK

hiiiiiiiiiiii (happy ❤️ stuff day)

Heyyy I know it's been a while. I've been very inactive for a long time- so sorry about that. I will do my best to get back to those of you who messaged me during my absence.

Thank you to those who wished me good luck on my exams! I really appreciate it <3
Unfortunately, a huge case of artblock  and writer's block slammed into me right after so here I am, trying to get back into it :>

Anyway, Happy. Valentine's Day for those who celebrate it. Hopefully you all had a lovely time.
I certainly did, holed up at home with no one but myself heheheh

Enough of me now. Enjoy a strange assortment of art I somehow cranked out.

Cupid AU came in real handy for today <3

*ass writing bit coming up*

*sigh*
If there was one particular day that Russia dreaded, it was Valentine's Day. All cupids did other than the strange, workaholic few.
The sun had barely peaked over the shimmering paradise and the Director was already snapping at everyone and everything. Russia grimaced as his list was shoved into his hands. It was so long that it trailed behind him like a bridal train.

Brides...weddings, another thing he had to worry about. There were several he had to crash today and he was not looking forward to it. At least there would be quite a few mystical arrow-light show displays to be witnessed as couples strung together as easily as beads.

That also meant that mistakes would have greater consequences and consequences were to be avoided at all costs. Russia really didn't want to extend his sentence.

With no time to lose, Russia hefted his massive quiver, stocked full of arrows, over his shoulder and departed for the realm below. This was going to be a long long day, he mentally prepared himself.

...
The 423rd name faded off his scroll as he let his last arrow fly into the back of a young man who had been going for a stroll. Immediately, his arrow began to glow and a connection was made with a thin glowing string, connecting him to his chosen other.

Russia sighed as his gaze tightroped along the thread of fate, his mind wandering for a second as he pondered the will of destiny. Who was to decide the encounters and course of these mortals? Who was to decide his fate? It was a most wonderful mystery to him but his pondering was cut short by the sounds of wingbeats from above.

A fellow Cupid had arrived with a new stock full of arrows, waiting to strike with their binding power. Russia mentally groaned to himself as he handed in his empty quiver and unrolled his list, only to find it ever growing with names. Well, whoever was in charge of fate, they were certainly kicking it up a notch today.

...
America yanked the label off the fresh bouquet that had just been delivered to him and set it down on his table, where all the other gifts and the huge pile of chocolates sat. All were "thank you"s or formalities from his associates and acquaintances he had long forgotten the names of. He scoffed to himself, 'We aren't children anymore. There was no need for these meaningless gestures unless there were genuine romantic feeling involved.'

Despite the holiday, his work didn't wait for anything. He still had things to do. His morning had already been irritatingly busy and now he had to attend a meeting with a room full of stuffy rich assholes. It was going to take a lot of mental willpower not to stray from his usual facade. Calm, collected, focused.

He pushed open the door and took his position, allowing his face to melt into the emotionless expression he always used.
'Just get it over with. Once this is done, you will be home free.'

Russia collapsed on an open rooftop, his arms, shoulders, neck, back, everything, sore from an entire day of nonstop firing. His twenty-something-th quiver had a couple arrows left and his name list still ran on and on but he couldn't bring himself to fly another second longer. He wanted to sleep, right there and then. He considered it but decided it would be bad if someone were to walk in on him like this. Revealing himself to one human was bad enough.