the polite yeti

KEYBOARD SMASHING GOOD TIMES TO BE HAD BY ALL.

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Let's start at the very beginning /Do you have questions into the nature of the universe? Pose them here./ I can't.

1 of 5

1

He isn’t Will, but no one is, anymore, and Lyra loves him anyway. He is clever and bold, a professor of experimental theology studying anbaric energy who comes to Jordan for a semester. Lyra had chafed at the request to come to a stuffy dinner for another stuffy visiting professor who would invariably talk down to her, but his waxwing daemon fluttered around Pan and the professor told her about accidentally burning off his eyebrows until both Pan and Lyra were flustered and laughing.

No one is surprised, except perhaps Lyra herself, when he accepts an offer to stay at Jordan for a while longer. 

2

It takes her ages to realize the feeling in her stomach is nervousness when he’s around. More dinners, afternoon walks, time spent together in libraries working separately at the same table, and he has become slowly indespensible to her life. There’s guilt, too, of course—he isn’t Will. But they promised each other they would build the Republic of Heaven where they are, separately, and she thinks Will would like him, anyway. 

When she kisses him, on the roof of Jordan above her childhood rooms, she imagines she can see the stars they had ostensibly climbed up to see even with her eyes closed.

3

She doesn’t tell him everything. How could she? Parts of it seem unreal and fantastic to her, and so much of it is private. But she tells him bits and pieces—her famous parents, her Gyptian friends, the dangerous research she helped to end. Pieces he could know, anyway, if he wanted to research her as thoroughly as he studies currents and circuits. A year goes by, and then two. Lyra doesn’t need the alethiometer to tell her the truth of how he smiles at her, or how it makes her heart soar.

Tired and sweaty, Lyra holds her son in her arms for the first time. His eyes are black, like his father’s. 

"We’re calling him Will," she tells him, and he, bless him, agrees.

Posted 2 months ago With 62 notes

72
ladygraceling:

gracelingshipweeks:

So heres the official post for the graceling ship weeks, i thought this would be a fun experience for the graceling fandom to participate it
here are the rules
you may contribute any art form such as — art, fanfiction,photosets, graphics ,gifsets etc.
please tag ‘gracelingshipweeks’ in the first five tags of your contribution
you may participate in any of the ships, you dont have to contribute something for every week
there are 2 free ship weeks, mainly for the non-canon ships
the friendship week is for non-romantic relationships, whether they be friends, siblings, cousins etc.
if you have any further questions feel free to ask, and remember, have fun!

im gonna try and do something for each ship! this is gonna be awesome!

Wha-hey, I am the only consistent fic writer, I guess I better get on this shit.

ladygraceling:

gracelingshipweeks:

So heres the official post for the graceling ship weeks, i thought this would be a fun experience for the graceling fandom to participate it

here are the rules

  • you may contribute any art form such as — art, fanfiction,photosets, graphics ,gifsets etc.
  • please tag ‘gracelingshipweeks’ in the first five tags of your contribution
  • you may participate in any of the ships, you dont have to contribute something for every week
  • there are 2 free ship weeks, mainly for the non-canon ships
  • the friendship week is for non-romantic relationships, whether they be friends, siblings, cousins etc.

if you have any further questions feel free to ask, and remember, have fun!

im gonna try and do something for each ship! this is gonna be awesome!

Wha-hey, I am the only consistent fic writer, I guess I better get on this shit.

Teddy, manuscript:

It takes him many years to finish, and he knows he isn’t really done so much as arbitrarily chosen a stopping point for the moment. He presents the manuscipt to the Queen. To his amusement and horror, she makes him a Duke for it.

Posted 4 months ago With 3 notes

Will, blade:

It will not return his fingers. He doesn’t expect it to. But when Will finally destroys the blade of the subtle knife, it makes him finally feel whole again.

Posted 4 months ago With 4 notes

Brian, oracle:

He’d still have gone to Vermont, if there had been an oracle warning him about his future (especially the parts about walking around inside alien guts). It’s just, you know, he’d have been better prepared. Maybe brought better shoes.

Posted 4 months ago With 0 notes

Mary Malone, ocelot:

It’s not that she’s disappointed to have a bird daemon, because she understands some of the symbolism behind it, and it’s not like she could have chosen anyway. Her daemon was formed before she ever knew him. But a little bit of her likes to think she’d have had something more dangerous, like a wolf or an ocelot.

Posted 4 months ago With 1 note

Otto von Chriek, oscillate:

There is a moment, just before he dissolves, where Otto can feel the whole of the world oscillate in perfectly imperfect waves. The light hits everything just so, making his nerves sing. And then, nothing.

Posted 4 months ago With 3 notes

Europe, skeleton:

Sometimes it pains her to think that she will be dead one day. It is, of course, the natural conclusion to the life she leads. But it still makes her heart ache to know that she will leave behind a skeleton, bones in a family crypt, while he will turn to dust.

Posted 4 months ago With 4 notes

Fire/Brigan, symphony:

When Lady Fire and her husband the Prince come to Lienid the first time, the King escorts them to a symphony as part of their welcome. Brigan spends the evening watching Fire, who watches the orchestra with delight. She smiles at him after, and he falls in love all over again.

Posted 4 months ago With 9 notes

Will/Lyra, symbiotic:

Will struggles to explain to his classmates at university why his girlfriend always has her ferret with her, because it’s frankly a little weird. Lyra just gets indignant that they don’t know the difference between a ferret and a marten. He just shrugs, and sighs, as if it were perfectly normal: “Symbiotic relationships.”

Posted 4 months ago With 1 note

image

1. The bench is gone. Will stands in the dappled sunlight of midsummer, staring in confusion at the place where his heart has rested for more of his life than not. The bench is gone, wisps of pollen dancing in sunbeams like visible Dust where it ought to be. There is a small, craggy rosebush in its place, and a sundial.

Will is thirty six years old, but he feels its loss like he is thirteen again, like he has lost his fingers again, like he has lost Lyra again.

"That old thing? It’ll be cut down for mulch. Half of it lost to rot," explains a gardener when found and pressed. But even so, he lets Will carefully saw off the arm carved with their names, and accepts his thanks—and cash—with an amused smile.

2. The bench is gone. Lyra is not surprised, because it feels like most things are gone from that brief part of her life by now, even as it reopens hurts she isn’t sure have ever healed. Will ever heal. She stands in the garden, the day overcast and a little cool to be midsummer, frowning at the place where it ought to be. There is a new sundial in its place surrounded by a bed of of rose bushes, still mostly thorns and little else.

Lyra fingers the papers in her pocket and sighs. She had brought with her the official notice of Iorek’s death, addressed to her from the embassy, to read to Will. Everything is being lost, it seems.

"Over here! Look, Lyra, over here!" Pan chatters excitedly, so she goes to him by the new rose bed. Scattered amongst the stems and thorns are pieces of dark wood, chipped into mulch, and near the top of the pile is a piece with her name carved into it, as familiar as the grain of Pan’s fur. So the bench hadn’t moved so much as changed form, she realizes with a laugh. Together they dig out the matching piece with Will carved into it. Lyra pockets them both, and strolls out of the garden towards home. A change, yes, but not lost. Not forever.

ETA: ao3 link: The Bench, Will/Lyra, G

Posted 6 months ago With 23 notes

The Boat - Iorek/G/sobbing. For andtheworldahead and Nina, for maximum crying.

Posted 6 months ago With 8 notes

Everything turns to dust, and Dust, including the bears in the end.

To be afraid of death would be to reject his innate nature as a panserbjørn. Iorek is not afraid, or sad, simply ready. He has seen other worlds, travelled to their shores and tested the boundaries of life.

Rarely, he has found himself wondering if bears truly do not have souls because they do not have daemons, and what that would mean upon his own death. Panserbjørn do not go in for introspection. But he would like to know Lee again, when he becomes dust. And, maybe, Dust.

Meditations on Death by the Panserbjorn" by bitterblue (AO3)

   

ilu

Tags from the OP: “WHY WOULD YOU WRITE SOMETHING LIKE THIS #DO YOU WANT ME TO LIE FACEDOWN IN MY TEARS #HE WOUD LIKE TO KNOW LEE AGAIN WHEN HE BECOMES DUST. AND MAYBE DUST. #WHY #HIS DARK MATERIALS #FANFICTION" Yessssssss it feels so good yessssss.

Posted 6 months ago With 23 notes

for cammi - because i don’t have any more katsa threads to show you

alinastarkov:

in the courtyard: she meant to back away, to leave them in private, and later she wouldn’t have been able to explain what possessed her to shrink back behind one of the endless topiaries and watch through the leaves. [bitterblue, katsa/po]

the kissing traditions of monsea: the library smells of ink and paper - and nothing like blood. [death, leck]

eta: hahaha it took me so long to figure out i typoed katsa as katniss

that happens more often than i’d like to admit actually

<3 I love it when people rec my stuff.

Posted 9 months ago With 4 notes

Could I maybe get a prompt or six in any of the fandoms I typically write for? If you have a specific fandom in mind, mention it, otherwise suggest 3-7 random/”random” words and I’ll run with it.

Posted 9 months ago With 2 notes