SilverWoodSketches

Enchantress | Bibliophile | Writer | Everything Fantasy | AO3 Eanna23je #Author of SILVER HOLLOW | ko-fi.com/silverwood

[rowynnellis]

Slowly chipping away at these pieces inspired by Cymru Folklore for an exhibition on Local Folklore at the Dory Gallery in Llangollen. The exhibition will feature a whole hoast of local artists work and I’m excited to be one of them!

The exhibit will run from the 4th of June until the end of September.

This particular artwork features one of the Tylwyth Teg a Welsh Fairy.

[wickedsnack-art]

Love and War — feat. Dhavihal Lavellan (she/her)

[s0alaina]

✨🔮🌌 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒢𝑜𝒷𝓁𝒾𝓃𝓈 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 🔮🌌✨       I watched Labyrinth with my family recently and was struck by the beauty of this scene of Jareth sending bubbles to Sarah before As the World Falls Down. THE GLITTER!!! I knew it was time!       What you don’t see in the time lapse is hours of sketching trying to get the right angle, anatomy, and perspective until I had to give up on the composition entirely and start anew on a different canvas with a different angle and I’m so glad that I failed a lot to get to a place where I knew it was right.       It’s almost like I had to go through my own personal labyrinth 😱      Which dark fantasy boyfriend should I draw next? Let me know in the comments!        Commissions are 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍!      Email me at [email protected]

[janainaart]

Odette

Illustration inspired by Swan Lake ballet.

⛤ Patreon, IG, art prints & more: janainaart.carrd.co

[the-most-sublime-fool]

beauty and the beast (1946) is kinda lit

jean cocteau was so real for this

women have always wanted to fuck the beast

[fayriequeene]

[rosieandthemoon]

By Ivan Trush

[petit-poids]

[livingd3adgr1]

I’m back🐚🐋

[silverwoodj]

Tonight, he didn’t see a sick, mad witch his family wouldn’t let him associate with. He saw someone beautiful. Worthy.

Chapter 25 is live at last, friends! I honestly could have written more but ultimately decided to break this one up before it turned into a literal novella. Hope everyone enjoys my take on the Yule Ball and catches the nod to one of my other favorite movies...

She flexed her fingers and blinked as she took in the number of bedecked students following the same route. And then they were descending the staircase.

And at the bottom, a sea of dress robes and shocked eyes.

“Is that Hermione Black?” a boy rudely blurted.

“Shut up! That’s my cousin,” Draco growled, and Hermione’s gaze quickly clocked his platinum coif with relief and a tentative smile. Even if he was escorting Parkinson again, the ninny.

That smile fell as she locked gazes with a dreamy Luna in silver-pink dress robes, her arm looped around Theo’s midnight-blue cloak.

Hermione couldn’t bear to look too deeply in her best friend’s eyes, not when she could tell even from a distance that he was heavily occluding.

I’ll talk to him soon, just not tonight, she swore to herself. There would be time… later. Tonight was for the butterflies in her stomach as a wide-eyed Viktor Krum extended his arm to her. “You look beautiful, Hermione,” he carefully articulated.

Tonight, he didn’t see a sick, mad witch his family wouldn’t let him associate with. He saw someone beautiful. Worthy.

Tonight, she would not count heads as she focused on putting one foot in front of the other and did her best to ignore her classmates.

She pressed her hand more firmly against Viktor’s fine blood-red coat to ground herself and took in the splendor of the entrance leading to a grotto brimming with fairy lights. “Are those actual fairies?” she muttered under her breath.

Viktor’s breath was warm against her ear, yet sent shivers down her spine. “Is beautiful, yes? At least your headmaster did not trap them here. They are drawn to magic and strong feelings.”

Hermione barely muffled her giggle at the absurdity, though a not-so-small part of her—the street orphan she would always be—reveled in the way the glowing fey danced about the rosebushes and fluttered over statues of Father Christmas and his reindeer. Some drifted through the doors, however, shimmering and tittering like the sound of bells over their heads.

“Are you ready for opening dance?” Viktor asked as he guided her into the Great Hall.

Hermione nodded before his words fully registered. “Of course!” Her words were thankfully drowned in the buzz of over a hundred witches and wizards gathered in the hall. She managed a brief adoring glance at the enchanted ceiling raining snowflakes beneath a barely cloudy starry sky. The hairs on the back of her neck raised as a hush fell over the converted ballroom. Somehow, though he was clearly keeping his magic locked tight, she felt the press of his eyes taking her in.

Hermione shuddered, and her gaze fell to her slippered feet, focusing on the way their reflections peered back through the floor, enchanted to appear the blue-green of an iceberg.

The crowd parted around them, opening to reveal the other Champions assembled for the opening dance. She caught a glimpse of bottle-green robes against Padma’s turquoise sari, but she couldn’t quite meet the sudden weight of Potter’s gaze, either.

Her feet paused in front of Viktor’s gleaming boots, and a warm hand gently coaxed her chin to lift and find his warm gaze. “Tonight, you are a queen.”

Hermione’s spine straightened, and a too-wide smile split her face as Viktor’s hand clasped her waist, his other hand firmly holding their arms to the side.

The strings began the waltz, and then they were dancing, twirling, spinning. She couldn’t catch her breath, but she didn’t want to. Laughter escaped her too-light chest as Viktor’s strong arms lifted her high in the air and they spun longer than they should have. His answering smile was her reward. He was so handsome, she suddenly realized, and decided it didn’t matter what happened next. Tonight was for them.

~Keep reading at AO3

Series: Part 2 of Killing Me Softly

[darklinaforever]

Dracmina is a great tragic gothic love story, and I don't care what the antis have to say to me on the subject.

[periodcostumefantasylover]

The Fountain scenery

[maythe4th]

@fantasyblr week: day 5 – scenery

A Discovery of Witches (2018–2022) — Season 1

[greengableslover]

WUTHERING HEIGHTS (2011) dir. Andrea Arnold (requested by anonymous)

[jamiextartt]

FILMS WATCHED IN 2025: 16. A Little Princess (1995)

[meowtorri]

A Discovery of Witches

[silverwoodj]

Chapter 24: Sincerely, R.A.B is live at last! This author is currently writing the next chapter and hopes you will all forgive her extended leave of absence. Now if only we still lived in a world where writers were allowed to disappear from real life and write exclusively...

also known as ~ a working mom doing her best to keep writing, in no small part because of all you lovely and amazing readers who make every chapter worth the existential angst.

Hermione hesitated, then dropped her pen with a groan and sank against her propped up pillows. The motion shifted the mirror facing her, propped on its own set of transfigured pillows.

Tom glanced up from his desk and whatever he had been writing with his perfect penmanship to raise an amused brow at her through his mirror. “Something the matter, darling?”

She ran her thumb over the dark emerald ink stains on her fingertips—Grandfather’s favorite color. “This is the third time I’ve started this letter and I still have no bloody clue how to let Grandfather Pollux down about the Yule party. And he will expect an answer in this letter. He went so far as to actually ask me directly in his last letter, you know.”

Tom smiled and returned his focus to the papers beneath him and ran the feather tip of his quill along his jaw. “You could always try a direct answer.”

“Oh no, that would never do.” A bitter laugh escaped her and she traced the lines of his profile in their shared connection, more grateful than he’d ever know for such a simple gift. “Aunt Cassie says they want to do the ritual again, now that we’ve brought the burned off members of the tree back into the family. The want to invite everyone this year, Andromeda and her daughter, Nymphadora. Even the squibs and lost branches of the family… And I’m so…” She shook her head and smiled, missing the moment Tom’s jaw ticked and his expression darkened.  “Proud of them for doing this after generations of so much hate. They’re finally coming together, and they tell me that’s because of me.”

Tom was silent, and glared at his parchment. The crackle of the fireplace on his side of the mirror was the only sound at the moment. Her curtains warded against any outgoing sound, her dorm mates still asleep at this early hour.

Hermione struggled to find regular sleep and Tom was often up at odd hours. It had become their routine, for her to call him in the night, for them to sit together like this and work on their respective projects. Even if hers were often silly, not important like his pursuit of his plans to make them a better, safer world for magical peoples.

“Perhaps it is time I paid a visit to Pollux myself,” Tom finally said, glancing up through his lowered lashes. “I knew him once, did you know?”

Every muscle in Hermione’s body tensed and she shuddered. “I don’t think that would be a good idea, Tom. He would know almost instantly that you’re my friend. And you aren’t ready for everyone to know you yet, are you?”

“Another time, perhaps.” Tom’s head rose, a secret smile playing about the corners of his mouth. “Tell him a truth, then. That you are too busy this year with the Tournament’s Yule Ball. Tell him that as the Durmstrang champion’s escort, you won’t possibly have time to host a party at Grimmauld. He can hardly say no to the opportunity you’ll have to strengthen the family’s position. All those people. All the publicity, and their figurehead’s face on the front page of The Daily Prophet?”

Hermione giggled and covered her mouth at Tom’s faux wide eyes and arched brow. “Merlin, you’re right, none of them would be able to resist that. And it may be enough to put this off until next Yule, even.”

If I live that long, came the morbid thought.

Shut up. Don’t ruin this.

She kept the smile on her face, refusing to give in, not when Tom was joking with his unique brand of humor. Not when they were sharing a moment in peace where it was just them and her problems felt so very small...

~Keep reading on AO3