#the long dark teatime of the soul

[dizzyhslightlyvoided]

Re: walrus vs. fairy:

"The impossible often has a kind of integrity to it which the merely improbable lacks. How often have you been presented with an apparently rational explanation of something which works in all respects other than one, which is just that it is hopelessly improbable? Your instinct is to say, 'Yes, but he or she simply wouldn't do that.'"

"Well, it happened to me today, in fact," replied Kate.

"Ah yes," said Dirk, slapping the table and making the glasses jump, "your girl in the wheelchair - a perfect example. The idea that she is somehow receiving yesterday's stock market prices apparently out of thin air is merely impossible, and therefore must be the case, because the idea that she is maintaining an immensely complex and laborious hoax of no benefit to herself is hopelessly improbable. The first idea merely supposes that there is something we don't know about, and God knows there are enough of those. The second, however, runs contrary to something fundamental and human which we do know about. We should therefore be very suspicious of it and all its specious rationality."

-- Douglas Adams, The Long Dark Tea-Time Of The Soul

#shenanigans #philosophy #walrus vs fairy #walrus fairy poll #walrus #fairy #fairy vs walrus #fairy walrus #walrus fairy #dirk gently #kate schechter #the long dark teatime of the soul #the long dark tea-time of the soul #the long dark tea time of the soul

[dfcfanfics]

The Gift That Keeps On Giving - Miraculous Prompt of the Day

Adrien Agreste is an enormously happy young man. He has a job that he enjoys, enough savings to endulge in any pastime he chooses, a beautiful and cherished wife who adores him in return, three precocious children, a mischievous hamster... life couldn't get much better for the Agreste clan.

But where there is light, there are often shadows cast, as well.

Their heroic pasts are long behind them now, the threat of Monarch long since disposed of and the Miraculous all returned to a safe protector (all but one each, just in case they're ever needed). The exposure of Monarch's true identity had rocked both their worlds, but they handled it well; it was kept a secret from the general public, justice (of a sort) was served, and Paris rests easy knowing that no more villains lurk amongst them.

One of Monarch's more diabolical schemes, however, tampered with Ladybug's mind and perceptions, corrupting her soul, turning her into his most dangerous ally for a while. She shook it off, of course, and she and Chat won the day; that's what they did. Every once in a while, though, when stress gets to Marinette or the planets are in a certain alignment or fate chooses to exercise its whim...

Sitting in his kitchen, Adrien looks down at an unnerved Emma, running up to him. "Mama's... sparking," she murmurs.

Rushing to the bedroom, he finds Marinette crackling with purple energy, a transformation partway complete, held off by willpower alone. "G-get the kids to our shelter," she gasps. "Hurry, Adr... Adri..."

He runs as if the devil itself was chasing him, urging their children to take cover. Because he knows that this state might last five seconds, five minutes or five days... but the devil has indeed come to play, and Marinette Agreste is its favorite plaything, as always.

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #fanfic #prompt #adrienette #aged up #mama's not herself today #the long dark teatime of the soul #domestic bliss 'til the bill comes due

[anderwhohn]

ALIAS / NAME : Lefae / Lexi BIRTHDAY : in terms of actually celebrating a day, October 31 ZODIAC : technically Virgo on the cusp of Leo HEIGHT : roughly 179 cm (just shy of 5'11") HOBBIES : roleplaying (obviously), writing, reading, playing video games (mostly choice-based RPGs like Mass Effect & Dragon Age, but also everything from Stardew Valley, The Sims, and Slime Rancher to Skyrim, Fallout, Bioshock, Portal, and many many more - seriously, I own over 400 games on Steam alone thanks to HumbleBundles and various sales, plus that's not the only launcher I use)... There's other stuff too, but they usually require more spoons and/or less pain to manage to do them, so... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ FAV. COLOR : purples, blues, & greens FAV. BOOK : Reaper Man by Terry Pratchett; Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy by Douglas Adams LAST SONG : 'Under Pressure' (Queen/David Bowie) LAST MOVIE / SHOW : Rockula (1990) / Good Omens (Season 2) RECENT READ : Mass Effect: Annihilation by Catherynne M. Valente INSPIRATION : depends on the moment, given the ADHD, but often something I've read or watched, sometimes music, and occasionally dreams I've had because dear gods my dreams get weird as fuck at times STORY BEHIND URL : It's from a friend's made-up language for their writing, roughly translating to "elsewhere" (thus the ic tag being "dreams of elsewhere"), which is also a sly nod on my part to Elsweyr (The Elder Scrolls)

tagged by: @dutyworn tagging: ran out of spoons for now so just steal it & tag me so I can see

#well guarded truths to seep through ( tagged ) #long dark teatime of the soul ( ooc replies )

[tastesoftamriel]

You know those cheesy pasta dishes with all the fancy add-ins like heavy cream and garlic so we can all pretend to ourselves that we aren't just eating mac and cheese like overgrown children? What sort of equivalent dishes do the people of Tamriel enjoy, that are basically just dressed-up "kid food" dishes?

Who doesn't love a cheeky meal that brings back memories of childhood? Across Tamriel, you'll find all manner of simple, hearty foods that will make you feel like a kid again!

Altmer

In Summerset, young and old alike enjoy mochi, a tasty sweet snack made from chewy glutinous rice flour. Mochi comes in many varieties, with fillings like sweet peanut or black sesame paste. However, almost everyone's favourite is a cold mochi filled with soft gelato of various flavours. My favourite combination is matcha mochi wrapped around a moreish azuki bean ice cream centre.

Argonians

Is there anything that makes you feel more like a kid than some snacking? Argonians are huge fans of anything that packs a crunch, both sweet and savoury. Whether it's spicy and sweet crickets, dark saltrice sauce-coated mealworms, or just good old prawn crackers with some dipping sambal, be prepared to snack your way all day long in Black Marsh.

Bosmer

If you're one of those people who stands in the kitchen gnawing a block of cheese at midnight, you're in good company in Valenwood. A popular late-night treat served at street food vendors across the Province is a simple cup of grilled witchetty grubs slathered in timber mammoth cheese sauce and topped with pulled pork. The grubs are meaty in flavour, and the pungent timber mammoth cheese complements the pulled pork when mixed all together, as the locals enjoy it.

Bretons

Pain au chocolat? Yes please! These deliciously buttery puffed pastries are essentially rectangular croissants enveloping delicious dark chocolate. Served warm, they're sure to make any breakfast or teatime a happy one! To really satisfy those chocolate cravings, pair with a classic Breton hot chocolate, complete with marshmallows and whipped cream.

Dunmer

Marshmerrow cake is the ubiquitous Dunmeri dessert that has gained popularity far beyond the borders of Morrowind due to its mild flavour and unique candy aroma. A soft sponge cake, which is sometimes soaked in comberry brandy, is layered with sweet marshmerrow crème patissiere, caramelised marshmerrow crumble, and maraschino comberries. Sure to knock some years off your age and put a couple more holes in your belt (it's impossible to stop at one slice. Source: me).

Imperials

There's nothing quite like homemade gnocchi with ragout for Imperials when it comes to comfort food. While this homey dish is prevalent across Cyrodiil, every household cooks the dish differently. In mine, my mother pan-fries the gnocchi in an obnoxious amount of butter, and tops it with her top-secret slow-cooked lamb and red wine ragout. While I cannot give away the secrets to her ragout, I highly recommend trying this delicious dish a try when you need to warm yourself, body and soul.

Khajiit

If you think you can turn away cinnamon and cardamom churros with a cup of moon sugar caramel dip, you're deluding yourself. This delicious treat can be found across Elsweyr and is considered one of the Province's most famous foods. Khajiiti churros, which are made from a mix of rice and tapioca flour, have a moist and chewy texture beneath a crisp, golden brown outer layer. They're served hot from the wok, with a cup of moon sugar caramel syrup. A truly divine pairing!

Nords

Spätzle is something I've written about in the past, and it's one of the best things I know (ask any resident of Skyrim and they'd tell you the same). These chunky egg noodles may look unrefined compared to Khajiiti vermicelli, but make up for it when liberally doused in a creamy cheese sauce and topped with fried onions. I like spicing mine up, quite literally, with some chili powder I purchased at a Sentinel bazaar.

Orcs

Nothing screams comfort food (and mess) quite like a good old echatere sausage hot dog. The echatere sausage, rather akin to Blackwood chorizo in flavour, is grilled over hot coals and served in a sourdough bun, served Wrothgar style with a good amount of horseradish mayo, fried radish chips, caramelised onions, pickles, and crispy dried baby shrimp topping. I'd say you can't stop at just one, but it's a hefty meal you can eat with one hand!

Redguards

I have probably written about gulab jamun in the past, a delicious, albeit cloying dessert popular throughout Hammerfell. An iconic dish at festivals and parties, gulab jamun is prized by dessert-lovers for its velvety, syrupy texture. These fluffy balls of cardamom-scented cottage cheese are fried and soaked in a fragrant saffron and rose water syrup, and topped with crushed pistachios. So simple, so good, and so moreish. Just be sure to stop at three, because any more and the sugar rush will send you to Aetherius!

#the elder scrolls #tes #Asks #food #cooking #worldbuilding #world building

[itsladykit]

Chapter 44 - Teatime

Summary: In which Edge is rewarded for all his hard work.

CW: manipulative behavior, powerplay/mind games, drug use, forced nudity, dark humor, mild physical abuse. This is an intense chapter, but one that isn't easily tagged for. Just mind yourself going in.

-

Edge was in the kitchen cleaning up after lunch when the knock came. He wasn’t scheduled to be back on shift for another half hour, so he knew it had to be bad. He checked to confirm his phone was on him but didn’t message his brothers. Hopefully, he wouldn’t need backup for this.

“This had better be—” His voice died, seeing Undyne on his stoop with four members of the Kingsguards in tow. “Captain,” he said, noting the glimmer of gold at her gorget and across her chestplate. His spine prickled. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Get your dress uniform on,” she said, looking him up and down. “The King’s asked us to attend him.” Her face was stony as she spoke, all of their easy camaraderie hidden behind a mask of indifference.

His mouth felt dry. “Of course. I’ll just be a moment.” He started to close the door, but one of the guards pressed the edge of her foot against it.

Undyne looked from her, back to him. “She’ll be your escort.”

His soul knotted, but he opened the door for her. “Come in, then.” The other monster—a stone elemental, he thought—slipped past him, her features unreadable. He didn’t need an escort. He certainly didn’t need an escort within his own home, but the message was obvious. The Kingsguard represented the King, and the King would not be barred from any aspect of his life.

He started up the stairs, grateful that neither brother was home at the moment. When he heard her footfalls on the steps behind him, though, his soul twisted. At the door to his room, he paused, regarding her. “This won’t take long.”

Her voice was cool and even as she replied, “I was sent to assist you.”

He needed help with his armor about as much as he needed an escort to his own bedroom. “I see.” She followed him into his room, and he was struck by a sudden rush of gratitude that—aside from Fang and his brothers—anything he truly cared about was safely in Underswap. Out of sight. Out of reach.

He clenched his hands to quell their shaking, then started to undress. Another set of hands joined his, undoing the straps and buckles that held his armor to his bones. She lifted away his gorget, his pauldrons, his breastplate with practiced hands, stripping him down to the protective padding that kept the armor from wearing at his bones. She was nothing but professional—no quips, no groping—but it still brought Muffet’s wandering hands to mind. He struggled to keep his breathing steady as she removed his leg guards.

He knew what he should do. He should take her at her word and act as if she was doing him a service, as if he was owed it by rank. It wouldn’t take the power back—this was a clear reminder that he’d sold his body to the King and the King could do to him whatever he liked, whenever he liked—but he could at least gather his dignity together and salvage his pride. They’d surprised him in his home, though. He’d let his guard slip, and he was finding it difficult to maintain an uncaring mask while every bone in his body screamed at him to run, to fight, to at least get this over with as soon as possible, dignity be damned.

Clothed now in only the padding that protected his bones, he gestured to the cabinet that held his dress uniform—praying that his brothers had not decided to prank him by defacing it. Thankfully, when she opened the cabinet, the black metal was polished to a high shine, the gold crest across the breastplate gleaming. He’d have to thank Slim later; it had been his task to keep the dress armor maintained, and he’d actually done it.

Thinking of his brothers provided him some grounding. He would not be the only one to suffer if he failed whatever test Asgore put before him. So, he tilted his chin imperiously, saying, “Your service is appreciated,” while he allowed his LV to clamp tight around his softer feelings, suppressing them and giving him the strength to do whatever needed to be done.

She nodded and knelt to put on his boots.

Downstairs, they joined up with Undyne and the other guards—was one of them her escort? had she been given the same treatment?—and started toward the Capital, all of them silent. As they passed through the streets of Snowdin, Edge noticed several of its inhabitants scurry back into their homes at the sight of them. A smirk curled the corner of his mouth, though his soul clenched at the sight.

In fact, all along their route monsters ducked out of sight when their group came into view. In Hotland, they didn’t see a single soul. Though Edge thought he saw a small spider skitter out of sight in the eaves, it could very well have been a trick of the light. By the time they reached the Capital, his uniform had lost its shine—the dust in Hotland had settled, but their footfalls had kicked it up again. It left a grey film over their leg guards and dulled the luster of their breastplates.

The King, he thought, would be pleased by that. He always seemed to like the sight of his guards covered in dust.

He’d expected to meet the King in his throne room, or perhaps the Judgement Hall. Instead, they were taken deep into the castle, where the grandeur of the palace gave way to the simplicity of a home. A home built in proportions designed to accommodate boss monsters. His spine prickled. Once, this would have been the royal family’s personal quarters, where they lived their private lives. No longer. The rooms here were unlived in, unloved. Nothing more now than the relic of a time long past, of everything the King had lost or set aside in pursuit of vengeance.

His spine prickled as one of the guards opened a door and said, “Wait here.” He and Undyne exchanged a glance, and they stepped into the kitchen. Not the huge, bustling palace kitchens, but a small room with only a single oven, a single stove and a big oaken table dominating the space. Edge touched the scarred surface, wondering what the room had been like before the Prince’s passing, before the Queen went mad. Had this been a place of warmth and kindness, then? Or had there always been a seed of cruelty at the castle’s heart, needing only tragedy for that cruelty to blossom?

The door shut, leaving him and Undyne alone. He caught her eye, but she shook her head, the movement short and sharp. Of course—they could not expect privacy here. Still, he had to ask, “Have you ever been in here before?”

She was silent for a moment. Then—“Once.”

It was all she said, and he couldn’t ask for details. The way she said it—terse and tense—set his soul on edge. There were solid oaken chairs pushed in to the table, but Undyne didn’t sit, and he trusted her instincts, so he remained standing as well.

Servants came to set the table for tea, but they didn’t look either guard in the eye, and they left before the water was finished boiling. Edge’s soul twisted, and he looked from the kettle to the pot and the teacups. His hands flexed. “Are we supposed to—?”

She silenced him with a look, and he settled into parade rest, soul beating hard. In the silence, he found himself listening for any sign of the King’s approach, and he clenched his hands behind his back, taking a deep breath to settle himself. He glanced at Undyne, but her stern, sober countenance did nothing to reassure him. The doorknob turned, and Edge straightened his spine, soul tight.  

King Asgore filled the overlarge doorway, ducking his head as he entered to keep his horns from scraping the frame. A mane of unruly black hair shrouded his yellow eyes, until he straightened to his full height—dwarfing both Undyne and Edge in height and breadth—and surveyed them coolly.  Undyne knelt immediately, and Edge was only a beat behind. “My King,” they said, nearly in unison.

He chuckled. “Get up. Both of you. I wanted to meet with you in here so we could skip the formalities.” The low bass of his voice rumbled through Edge’s bones unpleasantly. A chair scraped against the floor, and the King sat at the scarred oaken table. Edge glanced at Undyne, waiting until she started to rise before doing so himself.

The kettle whistled. “Undyne,” the King said, gesturing with a clawed paw to the stove.

“Yes, sir.” She turned to busy herself with the kettle and the tea, leaving Edge to stand alone.

The King pinned him with his gaze, slowly looking him over.  “Sit down, Papyrus. And stop looking so tense; you’re being rewarded, not punished.”

In contrast to his words, Undyne’s shoulders tensed at the proclamation. Edge swallowed, trying to relax his posture while remaining wary. “Rewarded? For what? If I can ask, sir.” He eased into a chair across from the King, trying not to look to Undyne for guidance.

The King chuckled again, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the tabletop. The muscles along his ulna flexed as he tapped a claw against the oak. “For a job well done, of course. I’m promoting you.”

“Promoting…?” He held himself very still, not understanding. The only rank above his was Captain. He couldn’t stop himself from glancing at Undyne, but she wouldn’t look at him, even as she set the teapot down at the table. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

A slight smirk pulled at the King’s mouth. “The two of you have worked well together. Surprisingly so, all things considered. But I think we’re strengthened by fostering some…” The smirk broadened. “Healthy competition.” He gestured for Undyne to sit. “Do you—either of you—know how close we are to reaching the Surface?” They glanced at each other, but the King didn’t wait for a response. “One human soul. That’s all we need. Only one more. Then we will rise up, and retake what was stolen from us.”

Mana caused his eyes to gleam red as he spoke, and a low growl rumbled in his chest. He eyed them both. “I need my weapons to be finely honed before we reach the Surface. We’ve gotten the Hotland gangs back under control, and every monster from the weakest Moldsmal to the strongest of our guard—” He eyed them both deliberately. “—is willing and able to kill. But is it enough?” he asked.

He leaned back in his chair. “Undyne, pour the tea.” Edge’s hand twitched by instinct. It should have been his task to serve the tea—he was the youngest present, and his LV was lowest. In all respects, he was the most junior. So why…? Undyne poured, first for the King, then for herself, and then for Edge. Asgore smirked a little, and Edge wondered if he was missing something.

“I wonder if either of you know how weak a monster soul is, in comparison to a human’s. They’ll best us every time if we aren’t prepared. It’s why they were able to drive us Underground so easily during the War. We weren’t ready for them. But now….” His smirk stretched wide, revealing fangs. “We have an advantage. LOVE. It hardens our souls, strengthens us. Where we were weak, now we are strong. And they will pay for everything they’ve done.” He clenched his paw into a massive fist, and the muscles along his forearm flexed disconcertingly.

His gaze fell once more on Edge. “Which brings us back to your promotion. You’ve demonstrated a strength and resourcefulness which is to be commended and rewarded. So I’ve decided to promote you to Captain.”

Edge forced himself to offer an abbreviated bow, even as his mind raced at the implications. “Thank you, sire. May I ask…” He glanced at Undyne. “…how will this affect the chain of command?”

Asgore stroked his short black beard, curling the stiff hair around his fingers. “This close to our goal, we need to be at our strongest. Both of you will answer directly to me. Undyne will be in direct command of the Capital and Waterfall, while Papyrus will command Snowdin and Hotland. I expect you both to work closely with the guardsmen under your command. Hone their skills. Get their LV up. I want every member of the guard ready for what’s coming. Am I understood?”

Get their LV up. Edge’s spine prickled. But Undyne nodded. “Yes, sir,” she said, and Edge could do nothing else but echo her.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He looked them over. “You haven’t touched your tea,” he observed, prompting both of them to take a drink. It was still too hot to drink comfortably and tasted too bitter by far. “Undyne, you’re dismissed.” She started to stand, but hesitated, likely when she realized he’d only dismissed her. Edge sat still and straight in his chair, silently praying for her to leave—if the King wanted to speak to him privately, then there was nothing either of them could do to stop him. Likely realizing the same thing, she stood and offered a salute.

“Thank you, sir.” To Edge, she said, “Stop by, after. I’ll transfer the relevant personnel files and schedules over to you.” He nodded and watched her go.

The door shut, leaving him alone with the King.

“How’s the tea?”

Edge’s throat felt tight. “Lovely,” he lied, tilting his teacup. “It’s very…bracing.”

Asgore chuckled again. “It’s poisonous, you know.” Edge’s sockets widened a little. “If you drink too much, that is. But it’s so bitter, I don’t imagine how anyone ever could….” He turned his head, gaze distant. Then he shook it, as if clearing away an unpleasant thought.

As subtly as possible, Edge set the teacup down and put his hands firmly in his lap. Asgore turned back to him. “I didn’t just bring you here to avoid formalities,” he said, after a moment. “I’m sure you’ve guessed what these rooms used to be.” Throat tight, Edge offered a stiff nod, not sure if he should instead feign ignorance. “I come here when I need a reminder of what the humans are capable of. It was hard in the beginning. Monster souls aren’t like humans’—we aren’t cruel by nature. It must be forced upon us. At first, I needed to come here often to keep my resolve.” He tapped one idle claw against his teacup, gaze distant once more. “It’s gotten easier, though. With every layer of LV, it gets easier and easier, and I need the reminder less and less.” His gaze fell on Edge. “I think you may need a reminder, though.”

His soul chilled. “Sir?”

“How long have you been at LV 13?”

“I…I’m not sure, sir.”

Asgore nodded, as if that confirmed a suspicion. “I want you at LV 16. At the least.”

“I—” Edge clamped down on his protests. He couldn’t say no. Not now. Not to Asgore.

“Something wrong, Captain?”

He shook his head. “No, sir. Nothing.”

“Good. Because if you can’t get your LV up, I’ll have to find another way for you to serve me.” He looked him over, inviting Edge to imagine what other purposes Asgore might find for him. “And that seems like such a waste for someone of your talents.”

“Understood,” he said, voice hoarse. “How soon…?”

“As soon as possible. But I’ll give you…three months. That seems reasonable, doesn’t it?”

Three LV in three months. He’d go mad. “Yes, sir. Three months.”

“Good. You’re dismissed.” He flicked his paw.

Edge rose to his feet, feeling stiff and lightheaded. He wished he could blame the tea. He bowed and offered a murmured, “Thank you, sir.”

“Papyrus.” Edge paused in the doorway, waiting. “Remember; we use the weak to make ourselves strong.”

His soul roiled. “Yes, sir. I remember.”

Asgore nodded, then looked away. So softly, Edge wasn’t sure he was meant to hear, he said, “We’ll thin the herd, and the monsters that remain will be ready.”

He felt numb, navigating the halls of the palace, trying to find his way back to something familiar. Thoughts bubbled up periodically, but he pushed them back, pushed them down—focusing only on the stone floor underfoot. If he allowed himself to think about the meeting, what it meant for him or his ‘verse, he’d lose it. So he kept a tight lock on his thoughts as he traveled from the Capital to Waterfall, taking the guard’s passages to save himself some time.

Finally, he reached Undyne’s house and knocked briskly on the door.

She yanked him inside and slammed him against the wall, holding him so her prosthetic pressed against his throat. Her hand closed over his control hand and held it to the wall, disabling his magic.

“I don’t know where the fuck you disappear to,” she growled, “but you need to pack your shit and go there. Now.”

Voice choked, he said, “I don’t know what you’re—”

She made a disgusted sound and shoved away from the wall, away from him, and started to pace. “Bullshit. Do you think I’m stupid? The Underground isn’t that big. You disappear for days on end, and Alphys can’t so much as glimpse you in any of her cameras. So far as she can tell, you drop off the fucking map once you reach Snowdin forest.”

Before he could come up with a lie, she shook her head and said, “That’s not the point—I don’t care where you go or what you’re doing, but you need to go there and hole up now.” She stopped, spearing him with a look. “You heard him, Pap. It’s going to be a dustbath in here. You weren’t alive during the last purge, but I—” She swore and started pacing. “You need to go. Wherever it is, it’s gotta be better than here. If you need supplies or-or anything, I’ll help you, but you’ve got to get out. Understand?”

They’d stood shoulder-to-shoulder against rioters and gangs. They’d brought down monsters so tormented by LV they weren’t even fully sapient anymore. He’d never heard that note of panic in her voice.

“Come with me,” he said, soul pounding.

She froze. “I—” He saw her swallow, saw her calculate the outcomes. Saw her make her decision. “I can’t. I’m needed here.”

He narrowed his sockets. “So, you won’t leave, but you think I can?”

She scowled. “It’s different—”

“How?!”

She stalked close to him, jabbing him in the chest with her hook. “I didn’t claw you out of Muffet’s web just to watch Asgore finish what she started!”

He lifted his chin. “So, I’m supposed to watch it happen to you instead?”

“No! Aren’t you listening? You’re supposed to get the fuck out of here!” She swept her arm to the side as she said it, as if gesturing for him to go.

“I can’t! Not while—” He cut himself off, unwilling to expose his naivety to Undyne. Not while she was like this. He swallowed and put his hand on her wrist. “Listen. What if….” She looked at him. “Together, we’re strong. Maybe—”

She clamped her free hand over his mouth. “Shut. Up,” she hissed. “Not another word. Don’t say it. Don’t even think it.” She backed away from him, shaking her head. “He’ll put us down, and he’ll make a show of it. And he won’t start with us.” Her eye blazed with mana. “Do you want to see what he can do to your brother before he dusts?”

Edge’s mouth went dry.

“I didn’t think so.” She huffed. “If we had more time, maybe. If we….” Her hand clenched closed. “But we don’t, so it doesn’t matter. No, the only solution now is for you to go.”

“I can’t just abandon everything—everyone we’ve fought for! You’re not willing to do it, so why do you think I am?”

“Because I need to salvage something from this hellhole!”

Her outburst startled them both into silence. He looked at her with wide sockets, and she sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Please, Papyrus. Just…go. You heard him, didn’t you? We’re not here to protect and serve. We’re not even here to maintain order. We’re his weapons. And our only job is to make ourselves and every other monster in the Underground better at killing.” She shut her eye and shook her head. “I can’t save them. I can’t stop it. I keep trying, but….” She exhaled shakily.

He didn’t respond for a moment. He didn’t know what to say. They’d never been so honest with each other. He swallowed. “Then come with me. If you can’t save them, why stay?”

“Because I have to try.” She sounded tired.

He wanted to argue, but he knew too well how she felt. Instead, he asked, “…Alphys?”

Her eye squeezed shut and she covered her face with her hand. “She won’t leave her experiments. You know that.” He did. “And she’s safe enough, in her lab. So long as…”

So long as neither she nor Undyne did anything to motivate the King to strip Alphys of her status. He nodded again. “I understand.” He did. Too well. “But I don’t understand why you think it would be any easier for me.”

Her hand closed, and she turned on her heel, heading for the kitchen. “Then get the fuck out of my house at least.”

He took a step forward. “Undyne—" A mana spear shot up from the ground, blocking him.

“I mean it,” she said, “I won’t watch what this does to you. I won’t watch you lose yourself. So get the fuck out, and if you won’t leave, then stay the fuck away. He has his eyes on us now, and he already thinks we’re too close to each other. He’ll start to think we’re colluding against him if we don’t demonstrate some ‘healthy competition’.” She gave him a look. “So, stop thinking of me as an ally, and start thinking of me as a rival. Got it, gutter-rat?”

He stood by her door, shifting his weight onto his back foot. “I need the personnel files.”

She glared at him. “I’ll send a courier.”

He nodded. “My thanks…Captain.” He slipped out the door and heard the hollow thunk of a mana spear striking the wood at his back.

His soul felt numb as he walked back to the house. He thought he’d managed to steel himself, until he reached Snowdin. The Dogi were there, tails wagging as they congratulated him on his promotion. He nodded to them, pretending to listen as they updated him on something. One of the Snowbunnies had ventured out, offering him a furtive nod as she passed. Her kit was pressed tightly to her side as they made their way to the little shop—something she wouldn’t have dared do in another part of the Underground. In the distance, he could hear the Ice Wolf shouting orders to Snowdrake.

The numbness gave way to a dull ache. He’d tried so hard to enforce the laws that kept the weaker monsters of Snowdin safe. He’d made it clear he’d abide no EXP hunting within its walls, and the weaker monsters had finally started to trust him to enforce it. The Dogi were even thinking about having a pup of their own, secure in the knowledge that it would be safe within the town’s walls as it grew. Was he supposed to strip away that security and let the EXP hunters back in—start hunting them for EXP himself, as the King had all but ordered? How could he betray the fragile trust he’d built?  

But if he left…simply disappeared in the night…wasn’t that a betrayal all its own?

He silenced the thought, trying instead to think of a solution. Overthrowing the King seemed the only way, but without Undyne’s support, how could he possibly…? Furthermore, he’d seen the result of a civil war in Slim’s Underground. Would Snowdrake or the Snowbunnies fare any better if he and Undyne attempted a coup? And that ‘verse’s Alphys had had years to build her resistance, so she had a loyal base of support after usurping her Queen. Could they rally enough of the guard in support, or would the loss of the King simply throw his Underground into chaos?

The ache in his soul sharpened, and as he stepped inside the house, he found himself pressing his hand to his chest, as though to soothe it despite the armor and bone encasing it. “Fuck,” he muttered, sockets clenched shut. It all seemed so hopeless.

If he stayed, if he tried to fight Asgore, what good would it do? But could he really leave? Knowing the fate awaiting the rest of his ‘verse?

He scrabbled to get his chest plate off as his soul started to burn. Swearing again, he threw the black metal to the side and pressed his hand to his sternum, waiting for the ache to pass. He didn’t understand what was wrong with it. Was it the tea? Asgore had said it was only harmful in large amounts, and he’d barely had a sip. Then was it—?

Upstairs, he heard something thump against the floor. Too heavy to be Fang, and the snickering that accompanied it confirmed the cat wasn’t to blame. His brothers were home, then. They shouldn’t be—they were supposed to be on duty until evening—but obviously, they’d decided to take off early. He huffed in annoyance, and that annoyance only grew as he started up the stairs and caught the skunky scent permeating the hall.

“d’ya need help?” Red asked from behind the door, his voice choked by laughter.

He didn’t knock, just opened the door to Red’s bedroom. His brothers froze and started at him with wide sockets, the edges of their eyelights hazy. “boss!” Red dropped Slim’s hand, sending him flopping back to the floor with the same thump he’d heard before. Slim wheezed, pressing a hand to his mouth to silence his laughter, while Red scrambled to hide the burning joint behind his back.

Edge stared at them, ready to tear into Red for fucking around when their ‘verse was on the verge of collapse. But Slim was still giggling, and Red was grinning at him earnestly—as if he really thought that Edge couldn’t see the smoke curling from behind his back or smell the tell-tale odor. “heya, boss,” he said, “how’s it hangin’? wha’s up with yer arm’r?”

They were laughing and joking, while he felt like his soul was ripping itself in half. Somehow, the absurdity of it broke through his annoyance. He sighed, knuckling the well-worn spot between his sockets. “Never mind. Just—give it here.” He held out his hand.

“give what here?” Red tried to look as innocent as he could manage, while Slim’s muffled giggling started up again. “dunno what yer talkin’ about.”

“Sans, I know what weed smells like. Give me the fucking joint.”

Red huffed. “fine,” he said, “but don’ trash it—‘s the good stuff. jus’ put it out so we c’n save it fer later.”

Edge glared at him. “We’re lucky you didn’t pull this shit yesterday—I had a formal escort inside our own damn house this afternoon. Stars know how I would have explained the smell.”

He eyed the joint while Red and Slim instantly sobered. Slim scrambled onto the bed to look up at him with wide sockets, while Red seemed to take in his posture and state of dress. “wait. yer in the fancy armor. why’re ya—what happened?”

Edge snorted. “Maybe if you weren’t holed up in here killing brain cells, you’d already know.” Someone had told the Dogi, after all.

“we don’ have—”

Slim snapped his fingers to get their attention, signing, “you’re okay?” They both turned to Edge, looking for an answer. Their eyelights were overbright and searching, all the humor of mere moments ago stripped away. Edge looked between the two of them, coming to a decision.

Fuck it.

He took a long drag on the joint, holding the smoke in his chest cavity until the urge to cough overcame him. Coughing into the crook of his elbow, he motioned for them to make space and allowed himself to flop onto the bed between them. He held the joint out for Slim, still trying to recover his breath.

Red sat up, leaning over him. “boss?” Despite the hazing at the edges of his eyelights, real concern glimmered in their depths.

“We’re leaving. First thing in the morning. Make sure you’ve got your shit together before we go—we’re not coming back.”

Red grabbed Slim’s hand to study the joint, looking from it, to Edge, and back again. “shit,” he said reverently, “this is the good stuff.” Edge snorted, shutting his sockets. Maybe it was the weed, but as he exhaled, what felt like years’ worth of tension drained from his bones.

Now that he’d made a decision, the pain in his soul eased, though an ache lingered at the core. He wouldn’t have said that it was the right decision, but he knew it wasn’t a bad one. It was clear now that he had to take his own advice and protect the people he could. He might have been willing to sacrifice himself for his ‘verse, but he wouldn’t ask his brothers to do the same. And he knew they’d never let him stay without them.

Pressure on his shoulder prompted him to open his sockets. Slim leaned over him, searching him for injuries. “what happened?” he signed.

“I was promoted.” Edge snorted, trying to hold back his amusement, then he gave up and let himself laugh. Of course, that only caused his brothers to exchange worried looks.

“boss, ya didn’ hit yer head er nuthin’, right?”

He shook his head. “No. I was lightly poisoned, but I don’t think that’s had too much of an effect.” He snickered again.

“okay, i know ya think yer bein’ funny, but yer not, so cut it out an’ tell us what the fuck happened!”

Catching his brother’s eyelight, he said, very seriously, “It’s not as much fun when the shoe’s on the other foot, is it?”

“papyrus!”

“Alright, alright. Long story short, I had an audience with the King. Things are going to get very bad around here, very soon. There’s….” Sobering, he exhaled slowly. “There’s nothing I can do. I’ll lose myself if I stay, and…I don’t know how well two low-HP monsters will survive what’s coming.”

“oh.”

Edge nodded, and when Slim offered him the blunt, he took a quick hit before passing it to Red. “undyne?” Slim signed.

His soul ached. “She’s staying.” He shut his sockets, sighing. “Once we’re in Underswap—and not under the influence—” He glared at Red, as if he hadn’t just taken another hit himself. “—we can discuss how to help who we can.” He shook his head, staring up at the ceiling without seeing it. “We can’t flood the Tale ‘verses with Fell-verse monsters—they don’t have the resources to spare—but maybe we can save some of the kids and sweet-pieces, at least. Something.” 

He'd expected Red to reject the idea outright, but instead, he nodded slowly and settled against his side. “boss?”

���Hmm?”

“i ever tell ya yer the coolest monster i know?”

Edge rolled his skull to the side to look at him. “You’re still in trouble for smoking in the house, you know that, right?”

“an’ what the fuck’re you doin’ right now?”

“I am unwinding after a very difficult day. You are slacking off and being a bad influence on your little brother.”

“’little’ my ass,” Red grumbled, but he was smiling. Then his grin sharpened. “heh. wait ‘til i tell yer bonefriends ‘bout this. stretch ain’t ever gonna let ya live it down.”

Edge rolled onto his elbow, pinning Red with a look. “Go ahead,” he said, “They’ll never believe you.”

Red’s mouth popped open, then clicked shut. He huffed. “i got a witness,” he said, pointing to Slim.

Slim and Edge exchanged a look. “Do you?” he asked Red.

“bro,” Red said, looking at Slim. But Slim just shrugged, unrepentant.

Smirking, Edge settled back onto the bed, despite the uneven drag of his armor. He sighed. He didn’t want to get up, but he did want out of the uncomfortable uniform. Briefly, he thought of showering, of scrubbing his bones until they were raw, but he took a deep inhale, and the thought drifted away on the exhale. No, he just needed a change of clothes. And maybe…. His brow-bone furrowed. “Sans?”

“hmm?”

“Are there any muffins left?”

“yeah. think so. why?”

“I’m…kind of hungry.”

Red scrambled up and out of the bed so fast he nearly tripped over himself in his haste. “i’ll get ‘em!” he said as he rushed out the door, apparently forgetting he could take a short-cut. Edge shook his head, amused.

Slim touched his shoulder, and he turned, cocking a brow-bone in question. Instead of signing, Slim slowly pulled him into a hug. It surprised him, but not unpleasantly. He returned the embrace, holding Slim tightly—but carefully, always aware of how fragile his brothers’ bones were compared to his. It wasn’t until Slim’s arms were around him that he realized how badly he’d needed it. He exhaled shakily. “Thank you,” he said, “Feel free to tell the runt that you’re my favorite.” Slim snickered.

“i heard that,” Red grumbled, carrying in the whole tray of muffins. He set them aside, then joined the hug, holding both of them tightly. After a few moments, he said, “’s the right call, boss. thanks fer makin’ it. know it wasn’ easy fer ya.”

The ache in his soul lingered, but Edge nodded. “I know. Thank you.”

-

They left before dawn. Edge wasn’t sure if he should blame the weed or the tea for the headache building behind his scarred socket, but he knew the exact cause of the lingering ache in his chest. He ignored it, joining his brothers at the foot of the stairs. Fang mrewed in his cat carrier, unhappy about being confined. “Ready?” he asked them. For once, neither of them had complained about the early hour.

Slim nodded, but Red hesitated. “uh…boss?” Edge raised a brow-bone. “c’n i…there’s someone i wanna say goodbye to.”

His brow-bones furrowed. “If this is going to compromise our escape route—”

“it won’. promise. it’s uh…the lady b’hind the door.”

Edge blinked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“she’s—it doesn’ matter. jus’…she’s a friend. an’ i…i owe ‘er a goodbye, at least.”

Something in the way he said that gave Edge pause. “Why would you owe her anything?”

Red looked away, squirming under his gaze. Finally, he confessed. “ya r’member the deal i made with ass-gore?”

His sockets narrowed. “I do.”

“well…i think she might be the queen. i gave ‘im some infermation on her, in exchange fer not…not havin’ ta meet ya in the hall.”

Edge swore softly, but he didn’t see a reason to lecture his brother now—what good would it do in any case? “Fine. We’ll meet you at the machine. Be quick about it.” Red nodded and disappeared. He looked to Slim. “Let’s go.”

After the shortcut, Edge knelt to check on Fang. The ragged looking cat just stared back at him with big eyes, purring softly. “Almost there,” he murmured, while Slim fiddled with the machine.

Except…the tell-tale clicks and whirrs of machinery didn’t start up. Edge stood. “Slim?”

Slim turned to him, his sockets wide. He shrugged, looking back to the machine. Edge joined him and punched in the universe code himself. Nothing. The ache in his soul gave way to a spreading emptiness. No. He punched it in again.

Nothing.

“Try another ‘verse,” he said to Slim, digging out his phone.

Blue picked up on the third ring, voice groggy as he asked, “Edge?”

“Is your machine working?”

“What?”

Slim turned back to him, shaking his head.

Edge took a breath, trying to keep his voice steady. “Blue, go down to the machine. Try to open a portal to Rus’ ‘verse.”

“Okay. Why?”

“Just—please. Let me know if you have any trouble.”

“Edge, what’s going on?”

Before he could answer, his phone beeped; Red was trying to call him. “I’ll explain later. I have to go. Just check for me. Please.”

He hung up and answered Red’s call. Before he could say a word, Red said, “we got a complication.”

“That’s something of an understatement. Our machine isn’t working.”

“what—how? ya sure ya got the coordinates right?”

“Yes, Sans we have the coordinates right!” he snapped. “We’re working on it now. What’s your complication.”

“i went ta the door an’…there’s footprints.”

Red looked from the door to the snow, giving Edge a good view of the footprints in question. “They’re leaving the ruins,” he said, not understanding at first. Then—“Do you think…? Are they human?”

They both studied the prints. Finally, Red said, “could be. they’re kinda small, though.”

Edge swore quietly. “Well, it won’t be our problem if we can get the machine working again.” His phone beeped; Blue was calling again, but Edge stayed on the line. Red wasn’t saying anything, and Edge stilled. “What is it?”

“jus’…human souls’re strong. they’re full ‘a determination. ‘s possible…maybe they’re in’erfering with the machine.”

“Just by being here?!”

“yeah.”

 His headache was growing stronger. “Track the footprints. Stay out of sight but see what you can confirm.”

“got it.”

He hung up, but Blue wasn’t on the line anymore. He’d left a message, though. Edge checked it, and his soul sank. Catching Slim’s socket, he said, “Their machine isn’t working either.” Slim’s hands fluttered, but he didn’t say anything. Edge understood the feeling. “Stay here. I’m going to check on—” His phone rang again. He picked it up. “What is it, runt?”

“boss, it’s a kid.”

#my work #fell papyrus #fell sans #swell sans #compound fracture

[kineticpenguin]

I hate the term "Sunday Scaries." Douglas Adams managed to lend a sort of dignity to the concept ages ago.

"In the end, it was Sunday afternoons he couldn't cope with, and that terrible listlessness that starts to set in at about 2:55 when you know you've taken all the baths you can usefully take that day, that however hard you stare at any given paragraph in the newspaper you will never actually read it, or use the revolutionary new pruning technique it describes, and that as you stare at the clock the hands will move relentlessly on to four o'clock, and you will enter the Long Dark Teatime of the Soul."

[george-weasleys-girl]

Visuals courtesy of the lovely @princess-paramour

Join the taglist

North Star Masterlist

(Ongoing Series) - A biography of George’s life, with a heavy dose of romance

Prologue - British boy meets American girl. Intro to our soon-to-be sweethearts.

Chapter 1 - The Exchange Student - Y/N arrives at Hogwarts.

Chapter 2 - Breakfast - Y/N and George meet for the first time.

Chapter 3 - Lunch - The second meeting, in which we learn a little about Y/N.

Chapter 4 - Dinner & Other Disasters - Y/N embarrasses herself and George remembers a promise.

Chapter 5 - Family Affairs, Part 1 - The arrival of a letter brings Y/N's past to light and reveals George's greatest fear.

Chapter 6 - Family Affairs, Part 2 - George opens up about his greatest fear.

Chapter 7 - Big Brother - An overprotective Fred confronts George and Y/N about the nature of their relationship.

Chapter 8 - Little Brother - George confesses his true feelings.

Chapter 9 - The American - Y/N comes to terms with her feelings for George.

Chapter 10 - Fieldtrip - Short blurb. The girls attending the Yule Ball get the day off to go shopping in muggle London for their dresses, while the boys have to stay behind.

Chapter 11 - The Very Nearly Yule Ball - Y/N comes down with the flu and has to miss the Yule Ball. George happily takes care of her.

Chapter 12 - The Letter - Y/N receives some surprising news from her mother. Depressed Y/N, protective, sweet George.

Chapter 13 - To Dance the Dance, Part 1 - George puts his plan into action. Y/N sinks further into depression.

Chapter 14 - To Dance the Dance, Part 2 - 18+only. George and Y/N take their relationship to the next level.

Chapter 15 - Tales From Across the Pond Y/N regales the group with stories about attending Ilvermorny and living as a magical person in the United States.

Chapter 16 - The Very Nearly Birthday Party - Y/N takes care of a very sick George on his birthday.

Chapter 17 - The Burrow - George takes Y/N to the Burrow for Spring Break. Things don't go as expected and Y/N begins to question whether or not she and George should stay together. Multiple POVs.

Chapter 18 - Sisters - Ginny and Y/N talk through recent events at the Burrow.

Chapter 19 - Truce - Molly and Y/N go tête à tête.

Chapter 20 - Blood and Sacrifice - Two letters addressed to Y/N arrive at the Burrow on the last day of Spring Break, prompting a few interesting discussions.

Chapter 21 - A Quiet Moment - George struggles with his anxiety.

Chapter 22 - Untitled - Summer vacation begins at the House of Black

Chapter 23 - The Long, Dark Teatime of the Soul - Y/N and Sirius' insomnia leads to an unexpected late night chat

Chapter 24 - North Star - Y/N's impending departure prompts her and George to create a binding spell

Chapter 25 - The Twelve Days of Christmas - After nearly five months apart, George surprises Y/N with twelve days of Christmas romance, pure fluff

Chapter 26 - Halfway Out of the Darkness - George and Y/N write love letters to one another

Chapter 27 - So Far Away - George and Y/N struggle through Valentines Day.

Chapter 28 - The Waiting Game - The last few weeks apart creep on forever for George and Y/N

Chapter 29 - Homecoming ‐ Y/N and George are reunited after a long year apart.

Chapter 30 - Bliss - Just a cute bit of fluff.

Chapter 31 - Settling In - Things don't go as smoothly as George and Y/N had hoped upon her return

Chapter 32 - The Request - George and Y/N discuss Remus Lupin's request

Chapter 33 - The Compromise - With Fred's encouragement, George comes up with an idea

Chapter 34 - Elysian Days - Fred is mercilessly teased. George and Y/N talk about the future.

Chapter 35 - Tea for Two - Molly and Y/N have a heart to heart.

Chapter 36 - Hello Lovely - George and Y/N go owl shopping

Chapter 37 - The Gathering Storm - The war intensifies. Fred makes a surprising decision.

Chapter 38 - The Proposal - George makes a proposal.

Chapter 39 - The Point of No Return - It's the moment you've all been waiting for.

Chapter 40 - The Very Short Engagement - Plot Twist!

Chapter 41 - The Circles of Eternity - With this ring...

Chapter 42 - The Honeymoon - short, but sweet.

Chapter 43 - Christmas Eve - George and Y/N survive the shop's first Christmas shopping madness.

Chapter 44 - To Drive the Cold Winter Away ‐ Christmas day at the Burrow

Chapter 45 - One More Week - George and Y/N impatiently await their "official" wedding day

Chapter 46 - The Discovery - Molly finds out George and Y/N eloped.

Chapter 47 - Three Kisses and A Wedding - The title says it all.

Chapter 48 - For Now - A night out. The rising darkness weighs heavy on Y/N's mind.

Chapter 49 - Two April Fools - George and Fred celebrate their birthday

~•~

#george weasley #george weasley fic #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x oc #george weasley x fem #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader

[inversionimpulse]

By the way, please read Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency and The Long Dark Teatime of the Soul. I don't know if the TV Show is any good, but I expect not.

The books are fantastic, and I'm due for a re-read. The medical facility sequence from Teatime has really stuck with me, and here's an excerpt from the conversation the perspective character for that has with Dirk afterwards to maybe convince you. It really shows, I think, what makes Dirk stand out as an interesting detective character (even if a lot of his supposed holistic detective work is just con artistry):

[...] said Kate. "What ws the Sherlock Holmes priciple? 'Once you have discounted the impossible, then whatever remains, hwoever improbable, must be the truth.'" "I reject that entirely," said Dirk sharply. "The impossible often has a kind of integrity to it which the merely improbable lacks. How often have you been presented with an apparently rational explanation of something that works in all respects other than one, which is just that it is hopelessly improbable? Your instinct is to say, 'Yes, but he or she simply wouldn't do that.'" [...] "your girl in the wheelchair--a perfect example. The idea that she is somehow receiving yesterday's stock market prices apparently out of thin air is merely impossible, and therefore must be the case, because the idea that she is maintaining an immensely complex and laborious hoax of no benefit to herself is hopelessly improbable. The first idea merely supposes that there is something we don't know about, and God knows there are enough of those. The second, however, runs contrary to something fundamental and human which we do know about. We should therefore be very suspicious of it and all its specious rationality."

Also, it's written by Douglas Adams. What more do you want?

[theomnicode]

Coming of Age; The lessons in immortality and moral high grounding

The longest meta often starts with the tiniest thing.

One thing in Cosmic Garou's design is an interesting one to note.

Long ears.

It's not only demonic, but elvish as well.

It is by no means accidental, because elves who in popular culture posses such long ears, often denote long life, vitality and immortality.

I'd like to borrow something I found from quora, from Douglas Adam's Hitchiker's guide to galaxy. An answer to question:

Do the Elves in Tolkien’s mythos ever go insane from living too long? Do any of them resent being immortal?

I think this topic is covered very nicely in Douglas Adams' book “Life, the Universe and Everything - Wikipedia ”, the third book in his five book trilogy “The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy”: Wowbagger the Infinitely Prolonged was-indeed, is - one of the Universe's very small number of immortal beings. Those who are born immortal instinctively know how to cope with it, but Wowbagger was not one of them. Indeed he had come to hate them, the load of serene bastards. He had had his immortality thrust upon him by an unfortunate accident with an irrational particle accelerator, a liquid lunch and a pair of rubber bands. The precise details of the accident are not important because no one has ever managed to duplicate the exact circumstances under which it happened, and many people have ended up looking very silly, or dead, or both, trying. Wowbagger closed his eyes in a grim and weary expression, put some light jazz on the ship's stereo, and reflected that he could have made it if it hadn't been for Sunday afternoons, he really could have done. To begin with it was fun, he had a ball, living dangerously, taking risks, cleaning up on high-yield long-term investments, and just generally outliving the hell out of everybody. In the end, it was the Sunday afternoons he couldn't cope with, and that terrible listlessness which starts to set in at about 2.55, when you know that you've had all the baths you can usefully have that day, that however hard you stare at any given paragraph in the papers you will never actually read it, or use the revolutionary new pruning technique it describes, and that as you stare at the clock the hands will move relentlessly on to four o'clock, and you will enter the long dark teatime of the soul. So things began to pall for him. The merry smiles he used to wear at other people's funerals began to fade. He began to despise the Universe in general, and everyone in it in particular.

"So, Elves, having been created immortal, would live happily in Valinor until the end of time. Humans, if they had been granted their wish of immortality, wouldn’t know how to cope with it."

Elves are naturally immortal; like the Ainur, they are bound to Arda until its End. Elves are immune to all diseases, and they can recover from wounds which would normally kill a mortal Man.[1]:218-9

Nonetheless, Elves can be physically slain or die of grief and weariness.

Saitama denotes all the signs of immortality as well, yet his body is still human, because he stubbornly clings to his humanity. And so his body is still capable of dying.

So in this, Garou's story and one of the themes in OPM is a coming-of-age, where Garou matures enough to realize the cost of attaining such power and takes responsibility for his actions.

Of growing and becoming an old and weary soul, of having your loved ones die before you.

That's why he chose to not remain so and chose to go out in his own terms and not linger around trying to find redemption. Otherwise he'd just become insane.

Humans, when immortality is thrust on them, would not know how to cope with it. There is one being that would know this fact better than anybody else. The one who imposed those limits on humankind.

Yet said being is actually already dead but stubbornly clinging to a human-resembling form and takes the identities and forms of other people because it has none of it's own. Or perhaps it resents itself and so hides behind a facade.

Makes you think who could have killed such a being and locked it away behind a dimensional barrier. If not himself.

So in the cruellest way possible, Future Garou learned an important lesson; not to dabble with powers he does not know to justify being moral police. The consequences are too severe.

That's why he only got a mere fraction of the power and why he was allowed to go out on his own terms. So the lesson will stick harder when it becomes apparent that he's not out of the woods yet. Because he's definitely not allowed to live a long life no or become immortal in the mortal world.

OPM God could have taken his life, yet he did not.

We're really making assumptions here that how long Garou spent touching God's hand is the reason why he got only a small portion of his powers imparted to him.

Instead of OPM God choosing to only impart him with a small fraction.

Or that the gesture itself is entirely meaningless in the grand scheme of things; that the true meaning of taking God's hand is accepting, wanting help and willingness to take that power and touching the hand makes the contract more binding when the person is manipulated to follow through with thinking of it as moral obligation.

It's not like he has to tell them what to do with the power, after all, their own moral code will make certain that they do exactly as he emotionally manipulates them to confidently act.

Like a puppet chessmaster, the space moral police lawyer. Also known as Advocate.

They'd still be a puppet, even if they have free will, when they get manipulated into thinking that they can justify their current actions. And why such manipulation is so hard to shake off by telling them they're being controlled, because their own hard convictions lead them on.

Being able to take the moral high ground, when one has so many problems with society's moral values and everyone else's values one deem bad, is a helluva drug indeed.

(Nice parallel btw)

If it's not apparent, Garou is not the only one who got taught an important lesson that will stick.

Don't take the moral high ground and flaunt that power imbalance. The consequences are too severe. The resulting ignorance and superiority complex are not worth it.

Being able to justify anything one does on the cognitive side is only fooling oneself into becoming a hypocrite.

Consider using heart and empathy instead.

--

So what did we learn about chasing and gaining power, attaining immortality and moral high grounding?

Fucking Don't. Don't fucking do it. Because at the end of the day, people still have to accept responsibility for their own actions if they're to be an actual mature person. Physically and mentally.

The higher moral ground one takes, the harder will be the fall when one slips off the edge.

Oh and the inner critic, Big Brother, is watching, with a magnifying glass in hand.

--

(Funny how your own metas make you sound like a bloody hypocrite huh? There is a lot of power in written and spoken words too. It certainly does make one consider. That's how you know ONE's writing is super-effective. Preach.)

Edit: You know it's kind of creepy when I write this shit for multiple hours, post and then I come back and see ONE has posted an omake in Mob Psycho about the same fucking thing.

Well, I fucking guess I'm on the right track with the theme he wants to tell ppfpfpf. Preaching without action or empathy is just being a dumbass hypocrite.

#opm #one punch man #opm meta #garou #opm god #saitama #fubuki #elves #immortality #coming of age #moral high ground #maturity #long

[theygotlost]

2023 book log/year in review!

here is a comprehensive of breakdown of every book I read this year!!

Terry Pratchett's Discworld

this was THE YEAR OF DISCWORLD for me. I read more disc books than non disc books. I'm probably gonna take a break from the series for a few weeks to get my breath back. I read my first ever disc book, Going Postal, in december of 2022 so it doesn't technically count as being part of this year, but here's every one that I read starting in january, in the order I read them:

Making Money

Raising Steam 

Guards! Guards! (x2)

Men at Arms (x2)

Soul Music

Feet of Clay

Mort

Jingo

The Fifth Elephant

Night Watch

Wyrd Sisters

Faust Eric

The Wee Free Men

Witches Abroad

Thud!

Monstrous Regiment

The Truth

Lords and Ladies

Hogfather

Rereads

The Fourth Bear is kind of whatever but rereading all the others has cemented them as some of my favorite books and I'm really glad I got to experience them again because I hadn't read them in years 😁

The Fourth Bear by Jasper Fforde

Catch-22 by Joseph Heller

How I Killed Pluto (and Why It Had It Coming) by Mike Brown

Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency by Douglas Adams

The Long Dark Teatime of the Soul by Douglas Adams

Other Books

It's kind of embarrassing to see how this list pales in comparison to all the disc books but I WAS reading other stuff I swear!! look!!

Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami

Sacrifice by Mitchell Smith

Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel

The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin

20,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne

The Lost Future of Pepperharrow by Natasha Pulley

I Am Legend by Richard Matheson

Did Not Finish

Some of these I got through more of than others. the really bad ones I dropped only after 50 pages or so. im sorry women.

Closing Time by Joseph Heller

Early Riser by Jasper Fforde 

The Real and the Unreal, vol. 2: Outer Space, Inner Lands by Ursula K. Le Guin

A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula K. Le Guin

Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann

Total Stats

Books started: 36

Books finished: 31

Books finished that I hadn't read before: 26 (19 Discworld, 7 not)

I PROMISE I'm not trying to be one of those "30 books in 30 days!" type booktok people, I wasn't aiming for any specific number. I only read this many books because i genuinely really loved them and couldn't stop reading them!!!!!!!

Reading List for 2024

I have an even longer list than this with a bunch of books that I saw or were recommended to me and I thought "oh that seems interesting maybe I'll check it out" but who knows if I will actually get to them. this list below is basically a new years resolution, books that I fully intend to read this year:

Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr (already currently reading this one, just need to finish it)

Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut

Facing the Wave: A Journey in the Wake of the Tsunami by Gretel Ehrlich

One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Sea of Tranquility by Emily St. John Mandel

The Watchmaker of Filigree Street by Natasha Pulley

The Bedlam Stacks by Natasha Pulley

The Half Life of Valery K by Natasha Pulley

Fun Home by Alison Bechdel

Maus by Art Spiegelman

Discworld Reading List

Yes, I am keeping this one separate. I don't necessarily intend to get to all of these by the end of 2024, just some time in the future (I probably will end up reading them all next year anyway LOL). Once I finish these, only the Rincewind and Tiffany Aching series remain. I'm not as interested in those based on the small sampling I got of them, but I'll probably read them all at some point just for the sake of completion.

Moving Pictures

Snuff

Reaper Man

Pyramids

Small Gods

Equal Rites

Maskerade

Carpe Jugulum

it's kind of scary to think that this is all thats left..... idk what im gonna do after that man..... kill myself? start over from the beginning? I guess ill just have to cross that bridge when I get to it ☹

happy new year everypony!!!!

[augment-techs]

Literary Witches: A Celebration of Magical Women Writers

As Writing Prompts~

wife, sister, virgin, whore

an incantation, a naming, a blessing, a curse

weavers, potters, cooks, and healers

flip to any page; follow your wyrd

conjurer of hurricanes, zombies, and tall tales

with each story, the basket gains an apple

alchymist of monsters, children, the living and the dead

a terrible baby, their very arrival a murder

even the freshest thing is mixed with rot

a painful tale about the creation of life and what happens to shunned, abandoned children

shaman of dew, hummingbirds, and mushroom language

could not read or write and lived in poverty on the mountains

healer and oral poet

hermit of hospitals, belonging, and lost souls

"You think you're the only one who doesn't belong?"

at least some creatures can find a home

receiving two hundred electroshock treatments and narrowly escaping a lobotomy

grand dame of trickery, murder, and teatime

"Most unpleasant."

a consolatory apricot biscuit

sibyl of masks, extraterrestrial eggs, and twisted fantasies

smashes the crystal ball on the ground

what remains--glass shards and a black, sticky substance

the room is clean and the crystal ball intact

madame of roses, geometry, and repetition

grow feathers, slink into worms, shrink into dragonflies--anything to get out

undine of introspection, opulent dreams, and voyages

some collect seashells, others chart the sun's movement

some keep house, make lace, pursue lovers

dakini of holy ecstasy, the dark one, and ankle bells

poison becomes ashamed

miraculously escaped their poisoning attempts twice

fantasma of silence, death, and lilacs

a bird of blue bones drops a piece of paper

the paper unfolds into a palace

step in through the door

the music hollows

cursed to hear it forever

give in, eat the bird whole

storyteller of rattlesnakes, turquoise, and the sacred desert

the drought has gone on too long

spider's silk holding all things together shines with the light

high priestess of scholars, volcanoes, and eros

a grim jewel of astronomical price

fondles their muscles over coffee and toast

sorceress of islands, venom, and histories

the soup boils down to a thick black sludge

soothsayer of utopias, creeping women, and evil wallpaper

the unseen fairy

the people must realize the changes for themselves

the disastrous, sexist "rest cure" prescribed for postpartum depression

sorceress of names, houses, and solitude

sometimes the mango is perfectly juicy, sometimes underripe, sometimes too sweet, or bruised

cigar in hand, walk into the jacaranda trees, hanging black bras off the branches

'Use this to climb out,' read the notes tied on with ribbon

guardian of the waters, the porcelain, and the lexicon

they love these puddles

they will not survive this one

wolf child fight their way to the bank of the river; they survive

after a lifelong struggle with mental illness

fairy godparent of bloody tales, the circus, and mirror

"Not another one."

doll in a red riding habit

and a bleeding wolf escapes from under the cloth

dark drops of blood sink into the soil and the roses bloom a deeper, more delicious red

sumptuous tapestries depicting sexual, violent scenes

ornamented with symbols and adjectives

warrior witch of otherness, bodies electric, and sisterhood

the sword is for slaying ghosts and demons along the way

lava filling their wounds

the coroner writes

populated with mothers, children, sisters, anger, cancer, the erotic, unicorns, snails eating dead snakes, witches, fire, and the importance of refusing silence

specter of windows, flies, and the unexpected

travels freely between the afterworld and this world

a white dress kneeling in the flowerbeds

rebel of sensual love, green gardens, and perfume

they never speak of it, but each man is haunted by his vision

withered leaves, wilted geraniums and lilacs

write explicitly about sexuality

siren of the lyre, honey, and ruins

the rest of the words are illegible

how seriously each child puts those wings on in the mirror

seer of peacocks, weird country people, and glass eyes

pray to see humanity clearly

the doors creak open

cosmic traveler of crows, horses, and survival

joy lies down in a field

the music is a spell

courageously survived an oppressive childhood, teenage pregnancy, and domestic abuse

koldunya of winter, endurance, and willows

the sodden papers become bandages for the wounded

rations of potatoes, cabbage, and milk

queen of miracles, generations, and memory

fury of motherhood, marriage, and the moon

dismembers mannequins with ferocious, precise claws

terrified into the thrill of living

enchantress of bitter love, treachery, and jewels

summons a moonbeam into a locked room

climb down to find an underground chamber

"I am the ruler of this prison."

locked up in the bedroom for six months

witch of villages, domestic horrors, and omens

rabid cats, poisoned beetles, blood-tipped needles

the ice cream section of the twenty-four-hour grocery store at three a.m.

doesn't need help finding anything

marries the ordinary with the supernatural

sower of strange seeds, species, and the future

mutating with violent need for food, power, and sex

covertly tosses seeds kept in pockets into the neighbors' yards

watcher of the moors, fantasy, and cruel romance

brushed the carpets and took walks in the hills

death of tuberculosis at thirty

#literary witches: a celebration of magical women writers #source: Taisia Kitaiskaia #writing prompts #word prompts #sentence starters #theme prompts #GIMME

[anderwhohn]

Anonymous asked: Do you have a promo?

Technically, yes, but I don't really advertise my blogs much these days (something something social anxiety disorder something something people being weird about inactivity despite repeatedly being told I'm slow af due to being disabled something something my data drive got royally fucked recently & I lost most of my rp files that weren't backed up on a cloud)...

But if you really want to reblog it, here's the one for anderwhohn (after I had to make a quick edit to remove an outdated link, so please don't go looking for the ones for my other blogs without asking first so I can remove the outdated links from them).

#anonymous #just perfectly normal paranoia ( anonymous ) #love the whooshing noise they make as they go by ( random asks ) #long dark teatime of the soul ( ooc replies )

[luvly-writer]

“But oh…cara mía”

Dick Grayson x Latina! Reader preview

________________________________

Author’s note: SO SO SO SO I FINISHED BIIIIIG PART OF THE SKETCH FOR THIS NEW FANFIC AND I JUST HAD TO WRITE A FEW SNIPPETS TO GIVE YOU SOME SORT OF TRAILER FOR WHATS TO COME! OMG I AM HELLA EXCITED. I literally stayed up last night cause sketching the storyline and already have ideas for the songs. This one will be more fanfic that SMAU cause like I said, I am truly motivated to write more but it will still have a few elements of social media au to balance the heavy angst and drama with light hearted fun and fluff! Enjoy!

Taglist: If you also want to stay for the Dick Grayson x Latina! Reader fanfic, there you are most welcomed to! If you don’t, feel free to tell me and I’ll maintain your name for all the Jason Todd x reader related things.

@lorosette @nanas-teatime @izukuisbaby @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @unofficial-jaytodd-wife @graywrites5567 @addictedtothefictionalworld @halleest @randobeetlehouse @prettyacademia00

___________________________________

“Kid, I’ve dealt with all the robins and batgirls, Batman in all his stages and more, trust me ya can’t scare me away easily”

——————————————————————————-

“What would you truly know of being a fighter, Grayson!?!?! You haven’t died, you weren’t trained from birth, you aren’t a meta, or a prodigy, WHY SHOULD I LISTEN TO YOU?!?!” said Damian harshly, it had been a rough week for all of them, and Damian, oh Damian was being careless with his words because of his anger. Dick got tense and everyone in the cave swore it got colder.

“ I may have not been born a fighter, Damian, but I was crafted by the burn of my survival. A good part of my skill comes from practice. The rest? From the attempts of destruction to my soul” Dick seethed in between teeth.

Damian tensed up at the harsh tone Dick had. Jason’s eyes widened, he hadn’t heard Dick be so cold in years. It reminded him of the fights between Bruce and Dick when he first got here. Tim’s back straightened, knowing that side of Dick very well because of his arrival after Jason’s death, he knew Dick had a darkness within him that only one person was able to soothe. Bruce felt his heart stop. “He hasn’t been like that in a long time…” he said stiff as a board. Alfred placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “she is here, master Bruce….”

——————————————————————————

“I should go apologize to Grays-“

“No..I’ll go” said YN softly

Damian looked at his father, who nodded that her going would be for the best.

——————————————————————————

“It is said that when you dance the waltz with the perfect partner, a candle can be held by the two, and the dance will be so smooth that the flame will never blow out.”

——————————————————————————

“We have all been through things, YN, you can’t make excuses for him”

“And you can’t use your trauma as an excuse to treat each other like shit!” said the girl sternly, making the other six give her their whole attention, “ I have had it! We ALL have trauma, it’s not fair we make it even worst for each other….”

——————————————————————————

“HE WAS MY BROTHER BRUCE! HE KILLED MY BABY BROTHER”

“AND HE WAS MY SON!”

—————————————————————————-

Grayyyyyysoooooon, it’s time to plaaaay, come on no-

Dick woke up with a jump, hyperventilating, sweating, the shadows danced around him and he felt a pair of eyes on him. He panicked even more, feeling as if Slade had come back and his breathes started getting shorter,

“Hey hey hey, sh sh sh sh Dick it’s alright, you’re home, you’re safe, I’m right here” YN said reassuringly

“I keep seeing him in the shadows, he is still there, he is coming back”

“Dick look at me” she says grabbing his face in her hands “he will not harm you, for as long as there is breathe in my lungs okay?” She reassured him and he nods softly, her presence always calming him

——————————————————————————-

“YN and I don’t have anything between us, we aren’t even friends, just coworkers who happen to have an understanding”

“That sounds like friends with benefits, Dick” said Steph muffling her laughter

“WE ARENT! I can assure you there is nothing romantic OR SEXUAL -STOP LOOKING AT ME THAT WAY- between us!” He finished giving a pointed look at Steph and Jason, who were holding back their laughter with a smug grin

“Never?”

“Never.”

——————————————————————————

“UGHHHH BARBARA LO ODIO LO ODIO LO ODIO!!!” said the young girl sobbing in her friends arms, “I HATE HIM! I HATE HIM!!!” she wailed and little by little her sobs started to subdue, “oh…querida mía..how I love him” she said softly. Barbara could only look at her with sympathy and stroke her hair as her friend calmed down from her cries, “I know sweetie, I know”

——————————————————————————-

“You know, I wanted to hate you, resent you for being so perfect, almost like heaven sent you from above for him, but I couldn’t….not when you always were so you…so sweet and kind with me and everyone, I couldn’t”

——————————————————————————

Hope you guys are as excited as I am!

I had to scratch the itch of simply writing something out and showing you guys before I finished “you are my sunshine” (which writing the part has been so difficult since I got so excited for this one and just needed to write something out to get you just as excited as I am AND because I don’t want to say good bye to the story since I love it so much but at las, little by little it has to end ;-;)

[it doesn’t have tags yet because it’s only a preview, once i start the story as a whole, the tags will begin ]

ALL MY LOVE

-you lovely writer

<3

[late-to-the-fandom]

Leave, stalk, break, captain?

2. LEAVE - Would you trust your main character?

I think you said it best - if I was not someone Renathal personally cared about, I would not trust him to any significant degree. His code of ethics, while mostly solid, is a lovely shade of dark gray, and I’m afraid I’ve got too many unrepentant and unfashionable sins in my life to be on his good side. I would be in for an eon of unpleasant and probably unsexy punishment 😂

3. STALK - Who is your favourite published author

It’s a three way tie between Susanna Clarke, Douglas Adams, and Tolkien. I reread Jonathan Strange, The Long Dark Teatime of the Soul, and The Hobbit at least twice a year, every year for many, many years.

6. BREAK - Has your writing made you cry?

Published writing? No. And that’s on purpose. I do not read anything that will make me cry, so when I write it is with an eye to not making myself cry. If I find myself writing something that makes me feel tearful, I stop writing that thing 😂

15. CAPTAIN - Do you like writing villains as main characters?

Almost exclusively.

Thank you for the asks!

#ask games #writblr asks

[safrona-shadowsun]

Teatime: What is the worst thing someone has done to her? What is the worst thing she's done to someone else?

Teatime Tuesday

The initial question seemed to steal the little mischievous delight Sana often inspired in her in confession. The pleasant smile waned as she prepared her truth in a cooled, quiet tone of revelation. "The worst instance I recall is being used. And I don't mean being blackmailed as a professional," her smile returned to briefly hitch up knowingly at Sana - "or in a sinfully fun way."

Her voice returned after another quiet beat of preparation, mouth cutting hard around some words with emphasis - she did not want to live in the trauma of the memory long: "I talk of an invasion, of a violation that strips you of your will over your own physicality, but holds you hostage within it to watch as someone puppets your actions. You find yourself wishing for death just to stop the horror. The worst part is feeling your violator's jabbing pride in what they are doing to you, and the part of you that never really recovers from it even after breaking free. It is an experience that scars."

Safrona clicked her teeth at herself and reached for the bourbon she'd set out, finding the need for its sweet burn as a reward for such harrowing confession. "As for the sins I've committed, they number as the stars do. They have a place for me in the Deadlands I'm sure, etched into stone. But I'll give you a nasty truth, sweet Sana: devouring a soul is probably my most heinous act, perhaps even more heinous than the horror that was enacted on me. Maybe in a twisted way I deserved those minutes of torment for being the creature I am."

The void elf's eyes cast their luminance on Sana, searching for connection in the cold, pretty face as she bled out another secret in an intimate whisper. " But, in the grand scheme of things, I would do it again if given a choice, and I will likely continue to if the need arises. My Path's one littered with dark necessity."

{ @twosidedsana }

#safwriting #IC #Sana #Answered asks #Teatime Tuesday #Whiskey Confessionals

[thirteensfavoritetoy]

Another manifestation to tide us through the current RTD mess & the long dark teatime of the soul that is the waiting period until a proper Jodip/Thasmin reunion:

A project involving Mandip Gill, Sacha Dhawan, & Anjli Mohindra. As in all of them at the same time.

#doctor who #yasmin khan #the master #skithra queen #mandip gill #sacha dhawan #anjli mohindra