#fae

A daughter of a King of Ireland, heard A voice singing on a May Eve like this, And followed half awake and half asleep, Until she came into the Land of Faery, Where nobody gets old and godly and grave, Where nobody gets old and crafty and wise, Where nobody gets old and bitter of tongue. And she is still there, busied with a dance Deep in the dewy shadow of a wood, Or where stars walk upon a mountain-top. ↗

— W.B. Yeats

#business

Did you really think I wouldn’t look for you?” “Honestly? Yes. You seemed a little busy losing your tongue down someone else’s throat. ↗

— Rachel Morgan

#faerie-guardian #business

It’s okay. I’m—” “Fine?” Joseph chimed in. “Obviously not. You need to be checked out by a doctor.” “I am a doctor.” I rolled my eyes at him, but that didn’t deter him from his train of thought. “Not that kind of doctor.” “What is ‘that kind of doctor’ going to say when they see my shimmering pink blood, Joseph?” I changed my voice to mimic one of a concerned doctor. “I’m sorry ma’am, you appear to be suffering from a mild case of Pretty Pretty Princess syndrome. Have you ingested any magical woodland faeries recently? ↗

— Laura Kreitzer

#faeries #fantasy #humor #soul-stalker #timeless-series-fiction

I wanted to scream with the pain, scream with the feeling of death pressing so close but I clenched my teeth together, grinding then until my head pounded and forced my trembling legs to stand. I had always been stubborn, wilful and no power on earth could change that. ↗

— Hannah Blatchford

#change

And she arose from her deathbed in a gossamer gown, with eyes the color of starlight and hair as black as the night. And those who were her captors trembled, for the scent of death and madness emanated from her soul, and yet she was not dead. She moved like the spiders that creep in the treetops, and none could look away. Taking her first captor in hand, she fed deep and ravenous. And so it was that Myst, Queen of the Indigo Court, was born from the blood of the dead. ↗

— Yasmine Galenorn

#horror #vampires #death

Welcome to the house of Gray and Graves where we never lie still and death is only the beginning ... ↗

— C.M. Stunich

#faeries #faery #horror #urban-fantasy #death

Romans and fairies and death dogs, oh my. ↗

— Dani Harper

#paranormal-romance #sexy-men #death

Pryseis didn’t see goblin. She saw child. ↗

— Renee Wildes

#faeries #fantasy-romance #dreams

Don’t worry, due’ane,” He murmured lowly....“Who’s Dewey Anne.” I asked him, voice gruff. He was so familiar, this Bracken, but so strange, naked next to me. I could touch him, I realized with wonder. I could run my hands from his flank to his shoulder, and he would welcome the touch because he was mine. You are.” He whispered, and I met his eyes. “It’s elfish, the feminine noun for ‘other equal half’. You are my other. My everything.” --Wounded (Bracken and Cory) ↗

— Amy Lane

#faeries #magic #paranormal-romance #equality

Far more often [than asking the question 'Is it true?'] they [children] have asked me: 'Was he good? Was he wicked?' That is, they were far more concerned to get the Right side and the Wrong side clear. For that is a question equally important in History and in Faerie. ↗

— J.R.R. Tolkien

#faerie #equality