Fae Aesthetic - Tumblr Posts

All across Britain the Wild sleeps in hidden places. Faced with the spread and noise and metal of the modern world the Fae folk retreated, making quiet places of their own where they could wait out the world of men.

Their favourite valleys, with rushing burns and stands of alder and willow, were folded away. The entrance ways placed between standing stones for those that remembered how to open them.

The high wild places in the hills were swathed in cloud and mist. Now and again you might glimpse another peak through the cloud, higher than your own and appearing on no map, where the heather is always in bloom and the living water runs in bright rivulets among emerald moss.

Whole groves were taken into the Other Place, or set on the move. Many travellers have been lost, chasing glimpses of sunlit clearings, bedecked in honeysuckle and orchids, and the sound of music and laughter. If you were to chase them you would find they always seem to be just beyond reach. The day will grow dark, the paths fade away and, as night falls and you realise you are lost, the laughter turns mocking.

There are some places that you can only find when lost. Streets that only exist for the daydreamers, stairs that carry the unwary astray, a glimpse of an impossible landscape never to be seen again.

I found one of these places in Edinburgh, while wandering with my head in the clouds. It was a simple square in the Old Town; heavy walls of golden sandstone reaching up to frame a distant patch of pale grey sky, reached through a narrow, low ceilinged close.

I stopped short on entering, bewildered by the scene before me. Clearly no one had set foot here for many years. The cobbles had been pushed aside for a riotous display of butterfly bushes and willow herb. Their pink and purple flowers transformed the dour space and filled it with perfume. In the centre, a gnarled old hazel tree grew. At some point its roots must have burst a water pipe, because a spring now flowed from beneath its twisted trunk. The path the water took was the only clear space in the square, a trail of green moss and white water flowers, glinting in the low light.

I was tempted to sit awhile, until I saw the crumpled figure sitting slumped against the tree, empty sockets still staring at the sky. I made a hasty exit.

I never found that square again.

TINKERBELL AU HERMIONE GRANGER AS A TINKER

PANSY PARKINSON AS A FAE (FAIRY)

A RIVER OF ROYAL BLOOD FAE OC

This is so gorgeous!!