#winter fae

[shirecorn]

Commission of a humaoid critter into... massive angel alicorn. We love to see it.

[vagueandominousvibes]

The Lord of Ice (from Awake, Sweet Prince)

I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've wholly coloured an artwork digitally, on my own, and been pleased with the results. The 7 days it took me to figure out have been so worth it.

[heyitsdeni]

Short comic I did for Cleveland Scene magazine’s comic issue this year! The theme was winter stories.

[avalon-princesss]

Artic fox 🩵 - original work, etsy shop

[nimkidraws]

for your sake

[daydreamnoise-draws]

Merry Xmas, have a winter fae!

[whatpennymade]

In the cold and dark of the winter season, it’s no wonder that we wrap ourselves in the glow of each other. 🕯️

[dashofmonsters]

Oisín

I've been dying to draw my favorite drama king disaster baby so I finally did and I opted to give him a septum piercing because sure why not. I had way too much fun with the robe and the watercolor brush. The antlers though, the antlers will probably give me pause as to drawing Oisín in the future unless I draw him as a troublesome fae stick figure

[muppethollz]

Aurora, my beloved frost elf 💙❄️

[laurenbamlett]

A recent commission.

[livingdeadgrl666]

date night

[bebs-art-gallery]

Christmas Eve (1865)

— by John Ferguson Weir

[apiculturegal]

gender TRANSED (pt. 15 of selkie au stuff)

i just wanted to draw these two dancing. they are my daughters and i love them so much

[midoristeashop]

YIPPEE YAY I LIKE THESE ONES

Most of my childhood was watching The Dark Crystal and other 80s style dark fantasy films so when I tell you this AU is comfort for me :,)

[agentbreedlove]

Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries

This journal serves two purposes: to aid my recollection when it comes time to formally compile my field notes, and to provide a record for those scholars who come after me should I be captured by the Folk. Verba volant, scripta manent.

[ghouljams]

Last night I had a dream that fae!Price’s darling was a witchy gal, her grandmother taught her about the fae when she was young. I’m talking warded up house, always carrying iron and salt, candles herbs and crystals the whole nine yards. They met in the flower shop after she got a weird vibe, looked through a hagstone and Saw him. He showed up in her garden and she gave him mead she made to make up for her rudeness. She will do small acts of kindness but specify that they are “freely given” to avoid tethering. I was reading your blog right before bed lol. I like the idea of debt holder Price and a (from a fae perspective) slippery darling that he just can’t catch unless she wants to be caught

*Holding the grimoire I wrote as a senior capstone in College* Oh you want witch shit? I can give you witch shit. Let's keep trying out Price's darlings, the only thing I require for her is that she have the most knowledge of the fae because she's dealing with the big kid one. (Here's where I mention that I also have a potential witch darling for Gaz so keep that in mind)

He's been hanging around your garden, just by your back gate, right where your grandmother planted rosemary so many years ago. You greet him every time you pass by, careful never to reach over the brick wall that separates you. He's friendly, but you're not so easily fooled.

"Good morning," you smile at him, watering the herbs on your side of the fence. He leans against the brick to watch you. Eyes heavy as they slide over you, tracing the sway of your skirt where it skims your thighs.

"How's my pretty witch doing today?" He asks voice thick and promising. He's just as careful to avoid your iron watering can as you are to keep it from splashing him. You find the residual warding properties tend to soak into the water. Your family has always maintained a strong threshold for the home.

"Better seeing you," you joke, returning the compliment as easily as can be. You never miss the heat in his eyes, the danger just below his friendly facade.

"I brought you something."

"That's very kind of you," you tell him, "I think the tomatoes are ripe, I'll send you off with some for the trouble."

"No trouble, I wanted to bring it."

"Oh but I couldn't accept a gift without repaying you, it would be rude of me."

"Repay me later," he growls, and you smile a little wider. You like this dance, you've never had a fae try so hard to get their hooks in you. You set down your watering can and lean against the brick across from him. Your weight resting on your elbows, the threshold humming between you.

"But I can repay you now."

"It's a gift."

"Gifts have strings."

"Then it isn't a gift," he says, mirroring your posture.

"Then what is it?" You ask, his eyes flick to your chest, appreciative, wanting. His confidence is charming, or it would be if you were the sort of person to take the fae at face value.

"A name," Your smile drops, your heart jumping up your throat. He must see the panic in your eyes because his smile widens. "Not to keep, just... to call me when we talk." Your pulse tries to slow from the impact of panic. He did that on purpose, you try not to look too rattled by this. You try to think of an appropriate repayment.

"I can't tell you mine."

"I know." He purrs, pleased with himself for catching you in your own defenses. You feel a chill graze your skin through the threshold, the edge of Winter. He knows exactly the corner he's backing you into. He gives you time to think through your options, to panic at the weight of his offer.

"I don't-"

"I know." He pushes, tapping against the solid line between you. You've never had the sight, but you can feel his magic collide with yours as he hits the threshold. You toy with the hagstone on your necklace, the worn stone warm from your skin under your fingers. "Witch," he warns.

"I'm still thinking."

"Think as long as you want," He leans closer, "but call me Price while you do."

Your heart stops, your thoughts grinding to a halt as well. Price. It fits him. You feel the silver thread searching for purchase in your soul, and break one of your long standing rules.

You lean over the threshold and kiss him. Because you know he wants to have some part of you, and you know he wants you on the wrong side of the fence. The thread breaks as his hand slides to cup your cheek, tipping your head as his lips slide against yours. It's your first one, and you think it's worth the price of his name.

His beard sort of tickles but his lips are soft and insistent, and you lean a little further over the wall to stay close. His hands are entreating, coaxing you further across the threshold. His teeth dig into your lip and you open for him, let him drag his tongue against yours as his fingers thread through your hair. You feel your feet leave the ground, the brick digging into your hands as you put your weight on them. The pain is enough to bring you back to your senses. You don't know what would happen if you let him take you.

Price sighs as you pull away and settle back on your side of the wall. He feels a thread hook in him. You've overpaid. He values your touch more than you apparently did, how fortunate for him. And unfortunate for you.