non euclidean

creepypasta (bad, for little kids): super mario’s eyes bled hyper-realistic blood and instead of the music there was someone saying “death” so i threw the game cartridge at the window.

scp entry (for intellectual, manly adults): william shakespeare’s eyes bled non-euclidean blood and the music was replaced with sad daevite poetry. we killed a d-class about it.

“Besides, often at difficult moments you’ll catch yourself talking to the mountain, flattering it, cursing it, making promises or threats. And you will have the impression that the mountain answers you if you speak to it properly—by becoming gentler, more submissive. Don’t think the less of yourself for that; don’t be ashamed of behaving like those our specialists call primitives and animists. Just keep in mind, when you remember these moments later on, that your dialogue with nature was just the outward image of an inner dialogue with yourself.” 

― René Daumal, Mount Analogue: A Novel of Symbolically Authentic Non-Euclidean Adventures in Mountain Climbing

The Doctors as Surreal Horror Monsters

I’m having a weird day okay? I need something to occupy my mind. 

@the-voice-of-light-city this seems up your alley

The First Doctor

A disembodied mourning sound, resembling both an old man weeping and the crying of a helpless infant. Often heard on empty streets late at night. It’s true body is an hour glass where the sand moves upward and downward at the same time. The weeping lures in unwitting victims, whose souls become new grains of sand. It has also been known to take on the form of a young school girl.

The Second Doctor

A player piano made entirely out of organic materials. The only song it can play is ‘Pop Goes The Weasel.’ People feel compelled to break into song and dance when in its vicinity, and it brings a sickeningly saccharine aura to whatever space it’s placed in. People entranced by it’s song have been known to drop from exhaustion, only to wake up with no memory of their actions. 

The Third Doctor

An eccentric spirit haunting a military base. It abhors war and tries to improve the lives of the soldiers who live at the base in little ways. It’s primary physical form is that of a large, fluffy sheepdog, but on occasion it appears as a frightening painting based the poem Jabberwocky by Lewis Carol. It enjoys car rides and sometimes accompanies soldiers in their vehicles.

The Fourth Doctor

A strip of soft fabric wrapping around an entire solar system. At either end of the fabric is a giant mouth with the teeth of a Thresher shark. The planets in the solar system are part of its body. It sometimes eats spaceships that pass within its vicinity, but others are strangely spared. It’s true eyes are those of a giant squid, hidden somewhere on Earth; when it blinks, empires will fall.

The Fifth Doctor

A beautiful patch of shimmering, iridescent grass that grew on the edge of a cricket field after a UFO sighting. It’s alluring to the eye but when investigated reveals itself to be infinitely deep. Some who tread upon it emerge with non-venomous snake bites, while others never return at all. The number of reported missing children has gone up since it was first discovered.

The Sixth Doctor

A sentient dictionary of made-up words in various unknown languages, its exact content changing slightly every time it is opened. It’s cover is an alien material of an incomprehensible color. It can have a sarcastic and bitter personality toward those who interact with it, but is in fact benevolent. No matter its current content, it always contains the definition for its favorite word.

The Seventh Doctor

A well-loved, but old and rotten teddy bear that has been soaked through with rain water many times. It was once the sole companion of a young girl with anger problems. Its stuffing contains the spirit of a scorned elder god who was cast out by his peers and now seeks to return to his rightful place. Contact with the toy has been known to bring about abrupt endi   

The Eighth Doctor

An abandoned and desecrated greenhouse that was once a beautiful nursery, but is now covered in graffiti. On closer inspection, all of the graffiti is the quotation “He who fights monsters should see to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you“ by Friedrich Nietzsche, repeated in various styles. 

The War Doctor

A planet that once fell into a crack between timelines. The way the planet is seen changes depending on the perception of those who visit it. The non-religious will see a utopian paradise world inhabited by anthropomorphic tigers. The religious will instead visit a world inhabited by dragons who are on the brink of a nuclear war. The agnostic will find a barren landscape.    

The Ninth Doctor

A being that stalks the streets of major cities at night looking for those in need of spiritual rebirth. It is invisible, but can sometimes be detected as the shadow of a cat cast on an alley wall. When it finds a subject, it will give them dreams of complex constellations in the night sky. These constellations symbolize the path the dreamer must take. Unfortunately, it is easy to forget its dreams. 

The Tenth Doctor

An entity in the vague shape of a human, whose body is unnaturally sharp. Those who reach out to touch it will be eviscerated. It once sought genuine love and affection, but the destructive nature of its being drove it mad. Desperate for closeness, it now seeks victims to control and dominate. It believes itself to be the last of its race, and mourns for them each day.   

The Eleventh Doctor

A pocket watch which appears to be broken, but always displays the correct time when viewed. When shook, rattling parts can be heard inside of it. It is connected to a larger body somewhere else, which supplies an infinite power source. Those who carry it around often enough can channel this energy, and may find themselves feeling spry and young again.

The Twelfth Doctor

A non-euclidean work of art on the grounds of a college campus. Those who see it are unaware of its supernatural nature, so it goes entirely unnoticed. Secretly, it is an ancient entity which protects the campus and those who live on it from danger, although it abhors the idea of making friends. It is a locked gateway stopping a great evil from leaking through. 

Non- Euclidean calculus and quantum physics are enough to stretch any brain; and when one mixes them with folklore, and tries to trace a strange background of multi-dimensional reality behind the ghoulish hints of Gothic tales and the wild whispers of the chimney-corner, one can hardly expect to be wholly free from mental tension.
—  H.P. Lovecraft, The Dreams in the Witch House

anonymous asked:

As a librarian, I support your non-Euclidean goals and only ask you not to reshelves books in the wrong place

I put my books on the little cart so they can be scanned as in-house use because my parents raised me right. How dare you.

mynamesvortex  asked:

THE REST OF THE TOWER NOW KNOWS THE TRAVELLER TASTES LIKE VANILLA. THERE IS NO WAY OUT NOW.

Wha… what? I said that it SMELLS faintly of vanilla. You should NEVER lick the Traveller. Non-Euclidean geometry of space (and all that) can’t be good for your tastebuds.

Chilly Night

The technology in the Bunker, well… “Technology” hardly seems like the right word for it. It’s a system that none of them could hope to understand completely – a bizarre aggregate of Cold War-era electronics and ancient and ineffable magic. Somehow it all works to maintain the place in livability and keep the appliances running.

Dean has managed to figure out most of the kitchen. He knows how to fire up the oven, adjust the temperature in the fridge, coax the coffee maker to life. There’s an industrial-looking blender with weird symbols on the front that he absolutely cannot figure out how to turn on, though. It’s a shame, too – bet they could make some incredible margaritas with that thing.

Cas, on the other hand, has built an impressive rapport with the laundry room. He’s divined exactly which buttons to press and which offerings to burn to get even the worst blood stains out, and their clothes are always soft and static-free even though they haven’t needed to buy fabric softener in months.

Sam’s area of expertise is the heating/cooling system. He’s the only one who knows how to work the thermostat in the Bunker, if you can even call that massive, sinister panel of lights, switches, and sigils a “thermostat.” Sam calls it “non-Euclidean,” and Dean doesn’t know what the hell that means. What he does know is that the one time Sam had tried to explain it to them, Cas had thrown up and Dean had gotten a headache so severe he’d been unable to leave his bed for two days.

So, Sam is the only one who can work the thermostat. Which means that when Sam leaves to visit Eileen for the weekend and the heat gradually dies down and then stops working altogether, Dean and Cas can only triple up on their flannel shirts and try to tough it out.

Dean’s reading in bed that night, trying and failing to get his sheets warmed up enough to let him drop off to sleep, when there’s a knock at his door. Before he can respond, a large blanket-draped lump with Cas’ voice shuffles in.

“I’m very cold, Dean. Do you have any extra blankets?”

“Sorry, Cas, all the blankets in the place are either already on our beds or still in storage, and the ones in storage stink like mothballs and mold. We had to wash these like ten times in a row to make ‘em usable. Can you put on some extra clothes?”

“I’m already wearing four layers, but I’m still so cold.” The lump shivers miserably.

“Aw, buddy, I can see that. I know you’ve had a hard time staying warm since you gave up your wings. Do you, um, do you wanna bunk in here tonight?”

“I hardly think that sleeping on your floor would be any warmer than sleeping in my bed, Dean.”

“No, I mean, sleep in here, with me? Your blankets and my blankets? Share, um. Share body heat?” Dean feels himself blushing so hard, he wonders if he’s helping to warm up the room at all.

“Oh,” Cas says. Then, “Okay.”

He methodically peels off each of his blankets and adds them to Dean’s bed, then begins peeling off his clothes and dropping them to the floor.

“Whoa, uh, why are you strippin’ there, bud?”

Cas spares him a glance. “Body heat is shared most efficiently while skin-to-skin, Dean,” he intones, sliding gracefully into Dean’s bed and pressing up deliciously against Dean’s body.

“Oh,” Dean says. Then, “Okay.”

…..

When Sam returns to the Bunker at the end of the weekend, he finds Dean and Cas snuggling on the couch in the library, wrapped up in blankets, and each other. Cas’ lips are cherry-red from kissing, and there’s a prominent hickey on Dean’s throat. They greet him sheepishly, blushing and failing to keep the grins off their faces.

“How was your weekend, Sam?” Cas asks.

“Great, guys. Thanks. Eileen’s something special, man. How about you, how are you guys doing?” He’s unable to keep a teasing note out of his voice.

“Yeah, um, really good,” Dean replies, resting his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder and closing his eyes. “Worked some stuff out. Things are really good. You might want to take a look at the thermostat, though. Heat’s off.”

Sam has to suppress the urge for a triumphant fist pump. He hadn’t dared to hope that his “no-heat” plan would be the one to finally get those two past their defenses and into each other’s arms, but he’s so glad it was.

(also on ao3)

Edited to add: Eyyy, post #69 at blessyourhondahurley! :D

anonymous asked:

Hello I'm sorry to bother you, but do you know of any fics where Tony has never been gay or thought he wasn't gay until he met Steve, any universe, any au powers or not, just Tony dealing with being gay and having feelings for Steve, either dealing well or having a crisis, I'm not fussed, thankyou very much for your help, 😺

Only a couple I can think of like that, but here you go. I  remember one that had MCU!Tony encountering 616!Tony and being sort of blown away that 616 was in love with Steve since MCU!Tony was with Pepper, but can’t find it. Anyone?

Our Weight in Gold by @stark-spangled-lovers:  It was every cliché he’d ever heard about. Every sappy thing they wrote down in the magazines, every single thing he had always hated about the myth. It was as though he had experienced life without sight, and was suddenly bombarded by a storm of color. It was all-consuming, and rushing through his veins like molten lava, like his whole existence was suddenly filled with sunlight. A door opened, and a myriad of emotions stormed through his body: confusion, disbelief, loneliness, and so much fierce determination that it almost knocked Tony off his feet. And he understood then, understood that these emotions weren’t his. They were Rogers’.This is a story about fate, self-doubt, choice and eventually—love.

Maybe We Can Be Each Other’s Company by fiftyshadesofstony: Steve takes up a second job bartending at The Black Widow, his best friend’s bar. There he befriends genius billionaire Tony Stark, and from then on, his life takes on a much more interesting turn than anything he’d ever thought possible. The two become fast friends, spending as much time together as they can, but over time, they both begin to question everything they thought they knew about themselves as they develop feelings for one another.OrThat time Steve and Tony thought they were straight until they met each other!

Non-Euclidean by valtyr:  For Iron Kink, prompt: “Tony is straight (or thinks he is), Steve convinces him to give sex together a try, and Tony rapidly discovers he loves it. Basically, your standard "turning out” story.“

Dare you flip through the pale leather-bound pages of...

…The Necroromicom, the Romantic Comedy of the Dead. Dare you suffer the dreaded meet-cute, or light the ancient incense at the three points of the non-Euclidean Love Triangle, where each angle adds up to more than 180 degrees?