wood between the worlds

so. rant on germanic fairytale forests 

in germanic fairytales, the woods, much like the crossroads, act as a portal to the otherworld. strange things walk in the woods: wolves with voices, dwarves, cannibal witches, women who can turn into swans, wise old women with enchanted combs, and white deer who look at you and disappear–or is that a deer at all, but the woodland king himself? you often do not find these creatures outside the wolves; because the woods are a portal to faërie. 

some of these folk are trustworthy: others are not. in the norse sagas, vargr are said to walk in the woods: a word which means both wolves and men. these men are outlaws, cast from society, stripped of their rights; their only choice is to wander the wilderness. sara maitland, in from the forest, writes “The woods are chaotic and wild; life goes on unseen within them, and for every lovely globe flower, spring golden in a small patch of sunshine, there is a death cap — Aminita phalloides— shiny, olive and yellow, just as pretty, but deadly poisonous, lurking under the oak trees. And in [fairytales], for every kindly old woman who gives you a useful gift, there is a very similar one who may gobble you up, put you under an enchantment or imprison you in a tower.” even wolves themselves are ambiguous; you should fear them (in little red cap) or you can trust them (in the giant who had no heart in his body). 

and while bad people walk in the forest, the forest itself is not inherently malevolent, though it can distract travelers from their truth course. red riding hood is led astray by flowers in the woods, while her grandmother is devoured. the forest is a labyrinth; things in it will try to make you stray from the path, but you cannot do that. as angela carter writes in the erl-king, “The woods enclose and then enclose again, like a system of Chinese boxes opening one into another; the intimate perspectives of the wood changed endlessly around the interloper, the imaginary traveller walking towards an invented distance that perpetually receded before me. It is easy to lose yourself in these woods.” because in there, the lines between this world and the Otherworld blur, and the path keeps you tethered to the true one: much like theseus’ string. “It’s practically what [forests are] for. To hide things. To separate one world from another,” one character recalls in cathrynne m. valente’s deathless. and it’s true. 

tldr: germanic fairytale forests are incredibly metal because they’re connected to the otherworld, and i love them very much


I don’t know if anyone else has done this before but here goes.

The pink dimension that connects Lion’s mane and Lars’ hair reminded me of the Wood between the Worlds in The Chronicles of Narnia: The Magician’s Nephew. It’s a world composed of a forest where you can submerge in the many ponds to be transported to other worlds, while holding a special ring.
The mechanics are different but the basic concept is the same. The imagery is so powerful it stayed with me all these years.

I suppose it’s a much larger, authorless idea though. The Nightmare Before Christmas and Spyro also come to mind. Does anyone remember other examples?

An Incomplete List of Subjects We Should Bring Up In Narnia

1. Aunt Letty
2. Narnian currency
4. Eustace’s funny journal entries
5. Dufflepads
6. The intelligent giants who built the bridge that Eustace and Jill crossed
7. Sarah the maid (who had a very exciting morning)
8. Puddleglum
9. Marshwiggles in general
10. The origin of Calormen
11. Earthmen
12. The Great Snow Dance (done every year in Narnia on the first moonlit night with snow on the ground)
13. Tiran
14. Jewel
15. Rillian for that matter
16. Polly??? She?? Needs??? More??? Love???
17. Digory helping Peter study
18. Jadis’ past
19. The Lady of the Green Kirtle
20. The Woods Between Worlds
21. Archenland
22. Narnian fashion
(Like I said, this is incomplete. I’ll add, you guys add. I’ll start bringing these up)


Split-Head Crow: One of several species noted to wander outside of the wood, these bird-like creatures are easily mistaken for mundane corvids when their heads are shut.  They have even been observed to co-mingle with mundane species of corvids, and are only easily discerned from their doppelgangers by noting their inability to feed.  Whether keeping their heads clamped shut serves as some variety of deliberate camouflage among mundane creatures or is simply a byproduct of their own internal morphology.  The relationship between the Darkening Wood and the mundane world remains unclear yet.

    Can we take a moment to appreciate Polly Plummer? Have you ever met a little girl who has as much common sense as she does? With the exception of taking taking a ring from Uncle Andrew (which she needed to do in order to get the plot going), Polly never seems to act without thinking. Polly is the one who thinks to mark the home pool in the wood between the worlds, preventing Digory and herself from becoming trapped. Polly doesn’t give into the magic of the bell in the Hall of Images, and tries to stop Digory from hitting it. It’s Polly who remembers the toffee in her pocket. Yet Polly is also brave and kind. She’s always willing to try another adventure, as long as Digory’s game too and she goes with Digory to get the apple, even though she certainly didn’t have to, and is perfectly willing to forgive Digory for the Hall of Images. In short, I want to be friends with Polly Plummer.

anonymous asked:

How can I better visualize my headspace? I can never see anything solid, I overthink everything I experience and it changes too rapidly for me to process what I'm seeing/hearing.feeling. I feel like the more I focus on what's going on inside my head, the more I get confused and make stuff up and can't tell the difference between what my soulbond says and what I /want/ my soulbond to say. This ask is kind of all over the place, I'm sorry D:

Lets see here ^^

For visualizing headspace: 

  • Start small, that’s really important, especially if you don’t feel like its coming naturally for you. Don’t try to create something any bigger than the size of a large room at first.
  • Base the first area of your headspace on somewhere you’re already familiar with, whether real or imaginary. Your bedroom, a favorite location in a book or movie works well. The original nucleus of my own headspace was a small green grove clearing, with a natural pool in the center, based on the Wood Between Worlds from the Magician’s Nephew.

  • Details aren’t always important. The ‘front room’ of my personal headspace is simply a dim area with a couch, and a standing lamp on a rug. One circle of light in a dark space. The pattern on the couch shifts continually.

  • Your headspace should be somewhere safe and comfortable. The fixed details that you create should reflect this.

  • Focus on each sense individually. First nail down what the space looks like. After you have that firmly, then work on hearing the ambient sound. After that’s fixed in your mind, work on touch, and then smell. (I leave taste up to your discretion ;) )

  • Don’t worry about ‘making up’ your headspace, unlike your soulbonds, your headspace is completely malleable and can be changed and shifted around to whatever you like.

  • When you’re first visualizing headspace, don’t try to communicate with bonds/headmates at the same time, since the concentration needed might throw off your internal ‘hearing’. Wait until you’ve got a fairly stable headspace to do that.

And for worrying that you’re making up what you want your soulbonds to say, don’t be afraid to ask them more than once. Try to clear your mind. Be on the look out for doubling/overtalking. If you’re not sure you can trust words, reach for the feelings your soulbond is giving off. Those are much harder to mistake.


Soy hija de la mujer que transnocha
I am the daughter of La Llorona and
I am La Llorona herself,
I am the monster’s child and monstrous.
Abandoned by my mother culture for being queer,orphaned, I left behind las tierras arenosas and now find myself in a dark wood. Between home and the world…

—  Llorona Coyolxauhqui

stardustdiana  asked:

1, 6, 11 for fic writing

1. Describe yourself how you would describe a character you’re introducing

She looked like someone who had already had a dozen coffees that morning, and had enjoyed none of them.

6. First fic/pairing you wrote for? (If no pairing, describe the plot)

Sherlolly! Although if you go realll far back, when I was seven I wrote a little “Susan Pevensie gets to Narnia after all” fic on a piece of notebook paper and tucked it into my copy of The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. No idea where it is now.

11. Weirdest thing you’ve ever written/thought about writing/etc.?

Sometimes I get crossover ideas…I’d love to use the “wood between the worlds” concept from Narnia combined with Stranger Things, maybe?

alice-c-anna  asked:

I agree. More hcs on other characters besides the Pevensies. Hmm, let's see. What's some headcanons on Digory and Polly?


- if you don’t think that they had a thing for each other, then you’re lying
- they were that typical old married couple type, even when they were younger
- their crushes developed at a different times, though
- digory started to like polly sometime after their tween years, when he started to see girls as more than just friends
- polly didn’t know when she started to like digory but she knew that she didn’t realize it until after they both had to move away from each other for their university studies
- neither admitted their feelings for each other, though, afraid the other didn’t return the feeling
- they were able to remain the best of friends, however
- they would send each other a letter every day when they were off in their studies
- and spend their holidays together
- when digory inherited the family mansion, he invited polly and her family over to the countryside for holidays
- there, polly would meet digory’s younger cousin, the future mrs. macready
- digory and polly’s friendship remained strong throughout their adulthood, even as digory continued his studies to become a professor and polly went off to explore the world as a pilot in the royal air force
- when they were older, they would constantly visit each other and visit old friends together
- digory has quickly sent a telegram to polly when the pevensie children had told him that they’d visited narnia
- polly had been unable to meet the pevensies at that time but had spent several hours with digory in deep conversation speaking about narnia
- they were both ecstatic to be able to return to narnia even though it meant that they had to die before they could go
- they had both been flattered to be crowned king and queen of narnia alongside the pevensies and eustace and jill but refused
- it was an honor that they didn’t feel they deserved
- after some insistence, they accepted the titles but only the titles
- they didn’t feel themselves fit to rule
- it was in aslan’s country that the two confessed their love for each other
- nobody else was surprised it
- they were only surprised that it hadn’t happened earlier
- the two lived happily together, going through different ponds in the wood between worlds
- discovering new worlds together as they had half a century before

a spooky scary video game music playlist to get you in the halloween mood| listen here

prologue- ace attorney:justice for all| k.k. dirge- animal crossing new leaf| dark palace- legend of zelda: a link between worlds| giygas battle- earthbound| ghost house- super mario 3d world| irene’s theme- legend of zelda: a link between worlds| ikana valley- legend of zelda: majora’s mask| lost woods- legend of zelda: a link between worlds| luigi’s mansion theme- super smash bros brawl| haunted house- super mario 64| torn world- pokemon diamond and pearl| ghostly galaxy- super mario galaxy| shadow temple- legend of zelda: ocarina of time| cave- terranigma| marble gallery- castlevania: symphony of the night| 


Sprinting through the woods, Zoe did everything in her might to not stumble on the leaves and branches. Feeling how the mud beneath her shoes started to make her path SLIPPERY. She hadn’t meant to AGITATE the creature, but the mere scent of her had put it on the prowl.

With a scream, she fell to the ground. Body twisting upwards, so she could face the being. Mind searching for ANY incantation that could lure the beast away, but it found none.

❝ Please, PLEASE don’t hurt me, ❞ she wept. 

There is nothing I adore more than entering a used bookstore.

Used bookstores – the really good used bookstores – are challenging to find, shy little creatures like Hobbits adept at slipping behind shadows and squeezing between other, more prominent storefronts. The timid animals hide in plain sight, camouflaged in an otherwise bustling cityscape, or elsewise milling in what seems to be some uninteresting backstreet neighborhood. Their doors might seem unbeckoning even when you do finally find the storefront.  

That’s an awful tight squeeze, you may think, looking at what seems such a tiny sliver between buildings. Perhaps a bit dark. Should I really venture inside? You might hesitate at the rusty handle, yank at the door a few times uncertainly, before finally venturing inside.

When you step indoors, you step through a semipermeable membrane, one which leaves behind all the worries and the anxieties and the bustlings of the loud, loud world; but welcomes you yourself in, you with your wonder. It’s at once a very tiny place and one far larger than anticipated. The first movement of Tchaikovsky’s Fourth broods contemplatively in the background as you weave between tight-packed eight foot tall shelves. It’s a labyrinth which barely allows you much room to shuffle between aisles. But it stretches on – on, on, on – and what seemed like such a tiny storefront leads you down a wild path of an interior that never quite ends. There are hidden nooks and crannies, secondary closets burgeoning out in more books, and tiny little staircases leading up to low-roofed second stories. It’s impossible to explore everything. Haphazard expansions are everywhere… and everywhere… there are books.

It’s hard not to step on them or trip on them or crash into them or bump into them. The books truly are everywhere. Not only are the tree-high aisles of shelves packed top to bottom and side to side with hardbacks, but all about them are neck-high cairns of semi-sorted books. Stacks grow and spread like termite mounds; shorter shelves rest on the ends of rows; yet more volumes sprawl on top of even the tallest shelves. There’s no way to move except carefully, trying to navigate through archipelagos of books. Tribbles would feel ashamed at their numbers in comparison to the mass of yellow-edged volumes here.

The forest isn’t grown in artificial, unfeeling, pristine neat rows, nor does the bookstore expand about in any sort of contrived fashion. It’s a growing, living, breathing ecology, one that has not a sense of shiny retail and glittering consumerism. It’s humble, it’s musty, and while the rows and the walls expand on forever, it’s cramped. But the closed quarters are comfortable – comforting, in their way. It’s the sense of a cat in its box; the physical closeness brings about not panic, but tangible security.

There isn’t a single row that isn’t interesting. All the books have been used, and touched, and held, and read. It’s all so personal. You see what interested other people, and that in turn interests you. Best sellers all lined up on the shelves in various conditions; clusters of Star Wars or Dragonlance or Magic books; a few random comic books, almost never a volume one amongst them; sheet music of everything from Mozart to fifties singles; well-known, well-loved British classics; Chinese poetry; both famous and obscure philosophical treatises; titles of fiction you’ve never heard before, nor ever will again; Westerns from the mid-1900s which once must have been popular; outdated science fiction with lame three-toned illustrations of metal men on the cover. Paperbacks yellowed over the years but still in good condition neighbor recently published books with spines creased into spiderwebs of cracks neighbor glorious old, spotless hardcovers that glitter with golden edging. You cannot help but be interested in it all. What did the previous reader think of this book? Find something you’ve never heard of… something probably few people will ever know. What are inside these pages? Everything you touch is treasure.

Sneak through the fiction section and find a book you have always wanted to read. Hop into the children’s section and reunite with old childhood favorites and let nostalgia overtake you. Sneak into the anthropology and sociology and linguistics sections and gain a sense of awe of humanity across the globe. Stare at the different alphabets and syllabaries in the foreign language section; the letters you cannot read are aesthetically glorious in and of itself. Peep at the history books, and regain a sense of curiosity at what came before.

Time doesn’t pass in a bookstore. There is no sense of movement, no sense of clocks nor mornings nor evenings nor seasons. There’s only this one static world, this peaceful and unchanging Wood Between the Worlds, which leads you into infinite portals to alternate dimensions. You feel no desire to leave; only to drift between endless shelves, or to sink in and become one with this ship. Yet even if you only stay in the bookstore for five minutes, you leave feeling changed, and awed, and fogged with a viscous peace of mind that lasts the entire rest of the day.

There is nothing I adore more than entering a used bookstore.

longlcst  asked:

❝I condemn you to oblivion!❞

Link had become a rather jumpy person since waking up from his hundred-year slumber. Between Yiga assassins, monsters hiding on the side of the road, and enemies where he least expected them, his reflexes had him ready to draw his weapon at the slightest disturbance.

He hadn’t encountered anything too bad in the Lost Woods so far, and absolutely nothing cropped up on the path between Korok Woods and the rest of the world. That was… until today.

When he heard the sound of footsteps behind him, he’d nearly set the grass around him on fire with how quickly he’d whipped to face the potential enemy. What he hadn’t been expecting was… Well. Whoever this was. Clearly they were a child, and neither a human nor Korok… but beyond that, he was at a loss for what exactly he was seeing.

“I’m… sorry.” he said slowly, pulling his torch back.

“You startled me. Are you hurt…?”