jagged-mountains

I love the ACOTAR series, but I think I’d adore a version of it where fairies (and High Fae too) are a bit weirder and dangerous and monstrous and inhuman: still beautiful, but beautiful in a way that is not uber-movie-star perfection, but a wicked, disturbing and definitively otherwordly thing. 

Like, Tamlin would still be the High Lord of spring, sure - but his hair would be actual flowers, closing and blossoming with twilight and dawn, and antlers on his head, and maybe sometimes, when he’s sleeping or fighting or fucking, thorns would spread from under his skin, bleeding with wild roses.

Rhysand would still be breath-takingly handsome - but he’d be a sleek, smoky thing of moon and dark, pianist fingers ending in talons he can’t hide, and raven’s feathers instead of hair. His eyes would stil be lovely and violet-blue, but they’d be an actual moonlit sky - with stars slowly spinning in them, and a solitary moon rising and waning where pupils should be.

Mor would still be herself, but a tad more like the Celtic Goddess she takes her name from: sweet and silvery, refreshing like clear water, with hair spun in starlight tumbling down her shoulders and snagging in her amor, the maiden and the mother. But then she’d step on the battlefield, and warriors would fall at her blade, and then her cheeks would flush crimson, her eyes bleeding red, and she’d be beautiful and horrible at the same time, beaming with silver light, a quartz princess of the dark caves of her kin.

Elain would get out of the Cauldron with fawn’s velvety ears, vines and blossoms spiraling and spreading across her skin, almost tattoos, shifting with the sun and her emotions. At first, they’d stay tightly closed - shivering and wrinkled liker her soul. And Lucien would have true fox ears, and clever, gold-flicked fox eyes, and his ears would tremble with delight the first morning he would make one of Elain’s blossoms open to him.

Nesta would forever be beautiful, but she would never be lovely again. The Cauldron didn’t leave her any softness, any warmth, any sweetness of features or shape. Looking at the sharp planes of her face, at the bloody-red slash of her lips is like looking at the jagged peaks of a mountain - at white wood washed over a shore, polished and hard and dead. She mourns her youth in secret: she mourns whatever girl-like beauty she has ever had, that scrap of Elain that used to live in her. Now she looks like a monster. She looks like something you should be scared of. But Cassian has teeth, predator’s teeth, and his hands have claws, and when he’s holding her she’s not afraid he will be scared. 

Maybe they’ll devour each other, but they’ll do it together.

And Feyre…  Feyre would find herself with new joints, new hands - with eyes that could see clearer and wider than ever before, but that are also pure pools of black, with no pupil no iris and no white. Her teeth are sharp - they tear through her lovers’ skin and don’t stop till they draw blood. And there’s something of the forest in her, too, of the woods where she had made herself a hunter: twigs and leaves growing amidst her hair, corsets made of leather and oakwood, so that when she’s running through the trees she looks like a sprite or a pixie - barefoot, quiver on her back, fangs bared in pleasure. She passes by with the rustling of fallen leaves, the whisper of squirrels and owls’ wings. You wouldn’t know she’s behind you till she’ll lean in to kiss your cheek, or stop your heart.

“Feyre darling,” this strange star-eyed Rhys would say, cupping the cheek of his wood-made girl, holding her close so feathers and twigs would mix together, and they would smile mirror fanged smiles, and they would still be beautiful.

When I imagine being free of all this, I imagine being on a jagged cliff or clear mountain and screaming every unholy word left in my body. I imagine all the hate runs out. My lungs drain out all the nightmares and visions. I clear myself of everything that terrifies me. And I cry, a lot. And in that moment, I bury everything in that mountain
and walk away.
—  Schuyler Peck
Mirror For The Sun - Part 8: Change of Plans

Masterlist  -  Series Masterlist  -  Part 7 - Part 9

Summary: (Bucky POV) Nat tricks you into leading a road trip with Bucky, Sam and Steve. Her plot is partly to get the boys to travel for fun for once but mostly to get you and Bucky together. You and Bucky, who seemingly despise each other.

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 3171

Author’s Note: Gah sorry this took so long. I’m already starting on prt 9, so hopefully it won’t be as long for the next one.

Originally posted by gliceria

This morning is a battle. It’s a battle to focus on really anything but Y/N. I’m just not sure what to make of any of this. I have no idea what she’s thinking while she flits around the campsite packing up the sleeping bags and tent while Sam works on breakfast. She doesn’t seem any warmer to me than she is to Sam, playfully dodging his reach when she steals a piece of bacon, or than when she grabs Steve’s arm to get an extra lift to push the tent bag on top of the car. I can’t figure out if this morning was just a weird thing in an emotional moment or if it was something more.

It’s also a battle over the next stop. She’s sitting stubbornly on the picnic table holding her atlas while Sam begs her to get in the car. Steve is rolling his eyes and I’m barely holding back my laughter.

“Come on! You’re being such a princess!” Sam scoffs, “Get in the car.”

“No! Vegas is not part of the plan!” She shouts back defiantly.

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The Brave And The Burdened

Inspired by @hellogarbagetime ‘s art and post

This will again be a multichapter fic. I hope you guys like it enough to stay interested :)

It was a warm, spring’s day when Captain Steven Rogers, the leader of the Queen’s commandos, set foot towards the troubled black valley and beyond on Her Highness’ command. It was a direct violation of the ancient rule, a betrayal of the passed-down treaty between the isolated kingdom of Mannahatta and Brookeland; the one which promised solitude and trespassing of none into the former in exchange of the unparalleled metals of Mannahatta for the soldiers of Brookeland. Steve himself had heard and respected this treaty ever since he had been a young lad, too frail to lift a sword. It had been unquestioned and a little unexplained but the people of Brookeland weren’t always known to question their guardians. Young Steve, with his large azure eyes and a sharpened jaw from all the blows that cut it in the alleys, had asked his mother once about it. He had been dragged back from the borders of Brookeland by Bucky, who had not let go of Steve’s frayed collar till he had deposited the lad in his ma’s lap, frowning and glaring like Steve had personally grieved Bucky.

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“It is curious to find the wolf as a character in children’s literature, for all wolves in literature are creations of adult minds, that is, of adult fears, adult fantasies, adult allegories, and adult perversions.” Of Wolves and Men

all six stark children are born with the ability to become wargs and were each bonded to a direwolf but its the youngest, arya bran and rickon, who most fully embrace their gifts. i think theres a lot of factors that go into this but chief among them is social conventions. the older three, robb jon and sansa, are more bound by their roles as king lord commander and lady respectively. they believe they have to act a certain way and in doing so reject their wolves. they also buy into societies fears of wolves; they’re dangerous, people are afraid of them  and they dont belong among men. the core of their identities is in direct contrast with the wolf within and something is always lost as a result:

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Restless

For @cupnoodle-queen, who is bae and the best kind of trouble.

It was dark. You stood outside the tent on the campgrounds, a loose sweater framing your figure. Even though it was summer, the nights were cool––morning dew had started to form on the grass below while the stars beaded the night sky.

You looked out at the horizon, jagged with mountains and trees. Your body felt sluggish, but your mind raced. You couldn’t help but wonder what would happen once you finally got to Altissia, couldn’t quell that feeling deep in your gut that something wasn’t quite right.

You were startled out of your thoughts when you heard rustling from behind you. Gladio emerged from the tent in his sleeping attire, which was just a pair of boxers, rubbing the slumber from his eyes.

“Hey,” he mumbled, shuffling towards you with a yawn.

You smiled at him, reaching a hand out to take his. “Hi.”

Gladio came over and kissed the side of your head before sliding his arms around you protectively. “What’re you doing still up? I woke up and you weren’t there.”

You sighed. “Sorry, love. Couldn’t sleep.”

Gladio frowned. He led you over to the chairs by the charred embers of the long-dead fire. He sat down and pulled you into his lap, cradling you against his chest. He radiated heat and you felt it seeping through the sleeves of your sweater.

“Wanna tell me what’s on your mind?”

You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, pausing momentarily. “Everything.”

“You know,” he said after a beat of silence, slipping his hand under the hem of your sweater to rub circles against your hip. “You can talk to me. About anything.”

You looked up at him, tracing the new scar that horizontally marred his forehead. “Like how you talked to me when you left without a word?”

Gladio went quiet, and his hand stilled.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “I shouldn’t have said that. You had your reasons.”

You moved to get up, but Gladio’s strong arms tugged you back into his grip. “Don’t apologize for that,” he sighed, his gaze cast downward. “I should have told you the reason. But to be honest, I was scared. Scared and embarrassed that I couldn’t protect Noct, couldn’t protect you. And what am I if I can’t do that?”

You shifted so that you could face him, stroking your thumbs along the stubble lining his jaw. “You’re Gladiolus Amicitia,” you stated firmly. “You’ve saved me more times than I can even count. And not just from physical dangers, but from my own mind. And I love you for it.”

Gladio’s hand slid behind your neck and pulled you in for a slow, languid kiss. It was sleepy and perfect, neither one of you wanting to pull away first. When you finally did, you kept your lips just barely touching his, and you felt his mouth grazing yours with every spoken word.

“I love you too. Even if you are a pain in the ass.”

You laughed and swatted at him, and he only pulled you in closer.

“Let’s be more honest with each other, yeah?” he asked, playing with the hem of your sweater. “Let me share your burden. That’s why I’m here.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

The two of you ended up talking for a while longer, curled up against one another in the lawn chair by the unlit campfire. The two of you eventually fell asleep like that, and you couldn’t even remember closing your eyes. Just the steady heartbeat that lulled you into a dreamless slumber.

The next morning, Ignis surfaced from the tent, rolling his shoulders and stretching out, ready to start breakfast. He caught a glimpse of the two of you, still sleeping in the lawn chair as the sun started to rise higher in the sky. He smiled to himself at the sight, and ducked back into the tent momentarily.

He re-emerged with a blanket, and went over to drape it over you both. He watched for a second longer as you burrowed a little closer to Gladio’s chest, while his hands tightened around your waist.

Ignis smiled to himself, and left to give you a little more privacy. He poured himself a cup of Ebony and tried to keep the noise down to a minimum as he began preparing breakfast, figuring he could give you two a little more time before starting the day.

A Blue Hope

Sooooo I read a poem and was inspired to write a short (1,456 word) langsty fic. No ships, no deaths/injuries, just Lance and Blue doing some bonding. Hope you like it!!

The mission was simple enough, most intelligence missions went off without a hitch. It was almost routine at this point, Shiro, Hunk and Keith would catch a ride in the Green Lion, masked by its stealth capabilities. Allura and Coran would call shots from a secluded vantage point and Lance would use Blue to scan the base, giving a clear picture of what they were up against. It was kind of boring to Lance, really, he would sit and wait nearby looking for any fighters or any signs of oncoming trouble. Unless one of them was spotted, usually there wouldn’t be any.

Inside Blue he leaned back and closed his eyes, a soft robotic humm filled the cabin and he smiled. Blue was the best lion in Lance’s opinion, though he realized he might be a bit biased. She never failed to keep him cool in hot situations. If he was honest, Blue (and Yellow by extension) were the most vital part of Voltron. They literally lift the team up. But why him of all people? “Hey Blue,” Lance started “Why did you pick me over Keith?”

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I asked for tips on learning the sibelius concerto on a violin forum and someone wrote me a novel explaining that I MUST travel to finland to “absorb the environment and feel the jagged landscapes underneath mountains of snow which breathed Life into the Giant,” which is neat, but I was more interested in etude suggestions,

Reminders of Beauty

Create a beautiful world
where the dark green pines
blanket your mind,
hugging the side of a
jagged mountain, crouching
near the edge of a cloud.
Rise early to a crimson sky
as a breeze blows the globes of dew
off the buds of sleeping flowers or
see a rose kissed by morning rain.
Never rest till you eye
a garden lit by moonlight or
the softness of the sun
as she gently recedes into the arms
of the waiting ocean tide.


overwatch characters as the worlds produced by minecraft when their name is put into the seed generator

“mercy” - a seaside meadow surrounded by dark oak forests, featuring black & white horses and scattered ponds/lakes.

“symmetra” - five tiny isles in the middle of the ocean surrounding an undersea temple, with very few scattered trees & animals. there is no mainland in sight.

“reaper” - a savannah with floating mountains, dotted by acacia trees. behind is a lush birch forest, forward is a desert lasting for miles. a river winds through the whole area.

“soldier 76” - a towering spruce forest with stone ruins scattered throughout. it is surrounded by a massive dark oak forest going in all directions, with mushroom trees scattered about. the forest floor is covered with podzol.

“hanzo” - a meadow filled with red flowers, split up by multiple rivers. far in the distance there is spruce forest, and a village. the meadow is large but empty.

“mccree” - a village on the edge of a mixed oak and birch forest. there is a dirt path leading up to it, and a large meadow filled with sheep nearby.

“zarya” - a river valley, with birch-covered hills on all sides. there’s a herd of cows in the valley, and yellow flowers lining ground where the treeline begins.

“amelie” - flat plains of snow and ice as far as the eye can see. there are several completely iced-over lagoons.

“mei” - an island in the middle of the ocean, covered in thick forest. the closest landmass are large, forbidding mountains with jagged cliffs and few trees.

“tracer” - the patch of land between three lakes. facing north, there is a mixed birch and dark oak forest. south, there are mountains, with scattered spruce trees within. east, there is already a forest fire occurring, where the mountains and forests meet.

“pharah” - a savannah in all directions as far as the eye can see. there is a multitude of wildlife, including llamas and horses of all colors. there is a village nearby, with a massive crevasse underneath.

“ana” - a large lake, mistaken for an ocean at first, surrounded by hills and mountains covered in spruce and oak trees. snow covers the sand lining the shore.

“lucio” - endless fields of sunflowers. scattered lakes and ponds throughout.

“zenyatta” - forest valley surrounded by mountains. the mountains are snowy, the forest is not.

“torbjorn” - a birch forest on flatlands surrounded by tall, jagged mountains. the birch trees are bizarrely short. peony flowers line the forest floor.

“sombra” - a massive jungle, going on in all directions. there is a ruined temple nearby, filled with traps and a huge amount of gold.

“reinhardt” - a small patch of grasslands, surrounded by dark oak trees and massive mushrooms. there is a swamp directly beyond the dark oaks, featuring a lava pit and a witch hut.

“roadhog” - at the foot of a single mountain in a massive desert. a river winds through it, and on the other side is a savannah.

“junkrat” - a jungle that bumps right up against a birch forest. both are filled with pigs.

“genji” - a snowy taiga with a frozen river running through it. there are hardly any trees but many, many flowers, and many rabbits.

“winston” - there are several small biomes fighting for space here; in one direction, oak forests with a lake and mountains, in another, savannahas and deserts. in another, swamps.

“bastion” - grasslands with multiple broken up mountains. a village is nearby. there is no forest.

“dva” - a spruce forest by the ocean lined with a wide coast. in the water is a sea temple, seen clearly from the shoreline. just within the bounds of the forest there are two villages.

anonymous asked:

Do you think Jon will be made king in the books or is that a show only thing? Love your meta about Jon's name, btw!

First of all, thank you!

To answer your question, Mormont’s raven certainly seems to think so:

“King,” the bird said again.

“I think he means for you to have a crown, my lord.”

“The realm has three kings already, and that’s two too many for my liking.”  Mormont stroked the raven under the beak with a finger, but all the while his eyes never left Jon Snow. - 
ACOK, Jon I  

“Free,” the raven muttered. “Corn. King.”  - ADWD, Jon VIII

He rose and dressed in darkness, as Mormont’s raven muttered across the room. “Corn,” the bird said, and, “King,” and, “Snow, Jon Snow, Jon Snow.” That was queer. The bird had never said his full name before, as best Jon could recall. - ADWD, Jon XII

Gilly seems convinced, too:

“They say the king gives justice and protects the weak.” She started to climb off the rock, awkwardly, but the ice had made it slippery and her foot went out from under her. Jon caught her before she could fall, and helped her safely down. - ACOK, Jon III

When Gilly entered, she went at once to her knees. Jon came around the table and drew her to her feet. - ADWD, Jon II

And considering his subsequent actions, doubtless Alys is in agreement as well:

“Marriages and inheritance are matters for the king, my lady.” - ADWD, Jon IX

All told,  “kings” are mentioned 279 times in Jon’s chapters, and “crown” an additional 29. Naturally, most of these are in the context of discussions about other kings but it’s telling all the same, especially compared to say, Jaime, who has only 162 combined mentions, or Bran who has 74, despite both having as much reason as Jon to be discussing or thinking about kings and kingship (albeit slightly less interaction with kings).  I would argue on a Doylist level, this is a deliberate effort to associate Jon with royalty. The more heavy-handed examples aside, even Jon’s descriptions of his world are filled with crown imagery:

The way up was steep and stony, the summit crowned by a chest-high wall of tumbled rocks. - ACOK, Jon IV

The sky was cloudless, the jagged mountains rising black on black until the very top, where their cold crowns of snow and ice shone palely in the moonlight - ACOK, Jon, VI

The peaked roof was crowned with a huge set of antlers from one of the giant elks that had once roamed freely throughout the Seven Kingdoms…  - ASOS, Jon I

Before them, the ice rose sheer from out of the trees like some immense cliff, crowned by wind-carved battlements that loomed at least eight hundred feet high…  - ASOS, Jon IV

Ahead he glimpsed a pale white trunk that could only be a weirwood, crowned with a head of dark red leaves  - ADWD, Jon VII

Jon is the only POV to consistently use this way of describing his environment, so it’s less likely to be a predilection of the author; this is GRRM, these choices are rarely a coincidence.

A plethora of meta has been written about this already, but imagery aside I think there is a pretty strong argument in the narrative for Jon ruling in some capacity before the series’ close. For one thing Robb’s will is bound to make a reappearance, though the legality of that will admittedly be complicated by many factors (the fact the Bran and Rickon are now known to be alive, the North backing Stannis, who would not recognize Robb’s ability to legitimize bastards, R+L=J, should anyone learn the truth of that…) Moreover we have this:

The girl who drowned the slaver cities in blood rather than leave strangers to their chains can scarcely abandon her own brother’s son in his hour of peril. And when she reaches Westeros, and meets you for the first time, you will meet as equals, man and woman, not queen and supplicant. How can she help but love you then, I ask you?  - ADWD, Tyrion VI

Young Griff is attempting to usurp Jon’s narrative, but we the readers know Jon is Dany’s brother’s son, and it’s Jon and the North in need of rescuing. This seems like an instance where Tyrion is accidentally prophesying; the HOTU visions introduced Dany to her third husband, her blue rose, her one to love. And she will not meet him as queen to supplicant. They will meet as equals - as queen and king

Title: True North

Fandom: Game of Thrones

Pairing: Jon/Sansa

Summary: As Jon looks out to the sea at Dragonstone, he is consumed with anxiety about The Army of the Dead and his seemingly failed attempt at an alliance with Daenerys. Lost in the dark void of his own mind, it’s thoughts of Winterfell and Sansa that give him the clarity and comfort he needs. Jonsa one-shot based on 7x03. The inner workings of Jon’s brooding.

Rating: T (small amount of strong language).

Words: 2.7k

Read on: FF.net

Update: I have added some little details to this story which brought it up to 3.1k words which you can see if you follow the about FF.net link.

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EPISODE 109 SPOILER

Okay so if you haven’t heard Episode 109 (A Story About Huntokar) please skip this post or don’t be mad at all the spoilers I’m about to discuss. Because OMG I need to talk about how amazing this episode was, both from a literary point of view and just because it literally explains Nightvale. 

So here is a list of just…. EVERYTHING (or nearly everything) that I thought was amazing about this episode. 

1. Nightvale is broken, and Huntokar is the reason why

It’s no secret that Huntokar has already been established as a God like figure in WtN. The little civilization under lane 5 of the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex was known to worship a God named Huntokar. In episode  107 (A Missing Sky) the people mention that Huntokar took away their sky. This originally made me wonder if a giant human named Huntokar had simply been the construction worker and designer that had built the Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex around their city. But no. Huntokar is literally the God of Nightvale. She IS responsible for what happened to them, to all of the Nightvales. 

“You’ve already been destroyed… you just don’t know it yet” (109). She is not exaggerating or being dramatic with this statement. Huntokar isn’t saying this to mean “you’re dead and you just don’t know it yet,” though that is certainly the implication since their fate seems sealed. No. What she is truly saying is that they are SHATTERED. They are already destroyed because they are shattered, their reality broken. And they don’t know it because they have been living in this fractured reality for so long, and because they are in denial about it. Huntokar states, “For a while I believed we could go on like this. We only put our heads down and insisted on living without looking at or considered the world around us we could just keep moving. And the main thing was to… keep moving. Denial was key. As long as we denied then nothing was wrong” (109). 

“Nightvale was not a place with any distinction to anyone in the world, except for me” (109). NIGHTVALE WAS NORMAL! It was a normal town; it had no distinction from anywhere else in the world before Huntokar shattered it. This was mind blowing to me. I had always thought of this town as “cursed” and that they were simply used to these abnormal things. But that is not the case. They have simply adapted to a shattered reality, using denial and God knows what other coping methods. “Now in this destroyed world I am forgotten. Still, they have bloodstones and still they worship but… never does anyone ask ‘What is being worshipped in those circles?’” (109). They forget things, they are in denial about things. They don’t question, because questioning might literally ruin them. 

If you need further proof that the people of Nightvale simply adapted to their shattered reality, look at Carlos. Carlos came from a normal reality to Nightvale In the beginning of the show he is weirded out by things that are normal to the others, such as the clocks. “… that clocks in Nightvale are not real. I have not found a single real clock. I have dissembled several watches and clocks this week and all of them are hollow inside” (16). He freaks out a little about this, as well as other things. But as the show progresses he somehow becomes OKAY with these things and also seems to perceive them as normal. But back to the main point. 

Everything weird that has ever happened in Nightvale is Huntokar’s fault. The time traveler from the future (in episode 18), Desert Bluffs, the dragons, Earl Harlin not remembering having a son, and literally EVERYTHING ELSE. But I’ll go more into that later.

“And it was, I suppose, in the moment that I first felt love for my creation that the fuse for the unraveling of all things was lit. Although it would not happen for many centuries, with the very inception of my greatest satisfaction and happiness, this tragedy became inevitable” (109). Again, she is not being dramatic. If she hadn’t felt love for Nightvale she would have had no desire to save it, and therefore wouldn’t have accidentally shattered its reality. 

“What happened next was a horrible cracking noise, a noise like I had never heard before, like NO ONE had ever heard before because this particular thing had never been broken. Not in the history of all possible histories. When I tried to lift Nightvale out of the world it belonged in, I shattered reality. And I didn’t shatter reality just in my Nightvale but in all Nightvales. All Nightvales that were, or could be, every possible Nightvale in every possible universe broke simultaneously and fell into each other” (109). Fuck me. This just… This just got me. I can practically see the way she tried to pluck Nightvale up out of reality, like trying to pick up one piece of glass from the middle of a mirror, and the domino effect it created. The shattering, the cracking, of every other reality and the way they collapsed on one another for support. Like a house falling down and barely managing to still stand. 

“There was a Nightvale is which there was no Huntokar… and this town should have been safe from me… but then all of the other Nightvales fell into it. And it too was destroyed by my action” (109).

“And in my moment of foolish hope… In my belief that I could save anything… I reached out my clumsy hand… and destroyed them all” (109). 

2. Nightvale was going to end, and may very well be about to end again

“I looked up into the sky as the people around me wept and said goodbye to each other. And I saw something else… A planet of awesome size lit by no sun, an invisible titan all thick black forests and jagged mountains and deep turbulent oceans. It hung so close that it filled the entire sky” (109). The dark planet has been well established as a sign of impending death, such as in episode 45 (A Story About Them). Therefore death was coming to Nightvale. If Huntokar had not done what she did they would be dead. 

“But… my efforts end here. The world is finally falling apart piece by piece and… I stand by. All the powers of my thousands of years and… I can only watch it fall” (109). Huntokar has stopped trying and now she sees the planet (the sign of death) once again. This could spell the end of Nightvale, all Nightvales.

“Even as I speak I look up into the sky and see that dark planet of awesome size perched in its sunless void. An invisible titan, all thick black forests and jagged mountains and deep turbulent oceans. It’s so close now. I can see it just above me. Maybe even if I tried very hard I could touch it” (109).

3. The Gods aren’t all powerful, and they don’t have to be nice

“I’ve spent every moment since my mistake trying to put back together what I took apart but… It is beyond me” (109). Even as a self-proclaimed God Huntokar is NOT all powerful. None of the “Gods” are. 

“Each of us in those early days chose our domains …. We could each of us do whatever we wanted in the places that we chose” (109). This is genius because it implies that once a God chose a domain that limited its ability. The God was more powerful in its chosen domain than elsewhere. Of course some of these domains are rather abstract, such as the distant Prince, but it still shows that the Gods aren’t all powerful and that they have territories. This also explains why Huntokar was able to shatter the reality of Nightvale. Nightvale was her domain, making it somewhat possible for her to mess with it whereas she might not have been able to do that in say New York. 

“The Glow Cloud remembers me but can do no more than flash welcoming colors to say hello. I have no human mind it can control so there is no way for us to speak” (109). They are so limited they can’t even properly communicate! 

“The woman from Italy became fascinated at the pain that could be inflicted on these creatures. The distant Prince began to shape some of them into wounded servants driven wild by what he had done to them. The Glow Cloud controlled the minds of any that got too close. And I… I thought I was the exception. I thought that I would nurture them rather than rule them. I was, of all of us, the only good one” (109). This is fascinating from a philosophical point of view. It begs the question, what if God(s) exist that are cruel? People naturally want to assume that a powerful, infinite being would want to love and protect us. It asks the question, what if that isn’t the case?

4. Examples of Nightvales shattered realities overlapping

“Some versions of the town fell completely into other versions, becoming folded int their reality in unexpected combinations. Others merely opened borders with my original Nightvale, doorways through which travel was possible.. but not advisable” (109). Episode 105 (What Happened at the Smithwick House),  Episode 99 (Michigan), Episode 107 (The Missing Sky) and Episode 108 (Cal) are just some examples of the realities overlapping of having borders. The blood space war could very well possibly be the result of another reality. 

“There is a Cecil who would not listen. There is a Cecil who listened, but could not comprehend. There is a Cecil who did his upmost but who failed. There is a Cecil who was gone long before I came” (109). While this seems like an obvious point to make, seeing as how anyone who has listened to the other episodes knows well enough by now there are multiple Cecils. There is the young Cecil, who interns at the radio station. There is the Cecil in the tiny civilization under lane 5. There are many Cecils. And yet this is brilliant because it also suggests something else. 

It suggests that Kevin is another version of Cecil. Yes, he has a different name. But they made it clear there were strong parallels between the characters. They look the same for crying out loud. Rather than Desert Bluffs being a “sister city” Desert Bluffs IS a version of Nightvale. Most likely is was a version that was taken over by the “Smiling God” and being of the shattering has overlapped with our Nightvales reality. 

5. Other stuff/ Philosophical points

“They faced across the water, squabbling over misunderstood ideas and announcing in louder and louder voices that they were prepared to end their species history over a point of pride. Some of the Gods encouraged it, enjoying chaos and fear as entertainment” (109). I just liked everything about this. I think it speaks deeply to our current world state. “The power of a fearful thought” (109).

“The important thing wasn’t a life worth living. The important thing was just a life that continued” (109). Again, I think this speaks to our culture. People are so accustomed to surviving that we ignore things like mental illness (depression, etc.). We, as a culture, don’t value making life worth living. You could argue we have lots of entertainment, in fact the American culture revolves around entertainment, but entertainment is not the same as joy nor does it guarantee a happy life or a life worth living, a life of fulfillment. But we push that aside, and do jobs we don’t like to earn money so that we can buy things and watch things and act happy.

“Nightvale is shattered, but for now is still here. Time is startlingly persistent in that way. Even badly wounded it moves” (109).

“They see glowing arrows in the sky, dotted lines and circles and they think nothing of them! Air traffic… space debris… weird birds… They do not, can not, will not read the messages from their God” (109). This is fascinating for several reasons. First of all, Steve Carlsburg can in fact see and read these messages but still does not understand where they are coming from. Additionally, I found this point to be amazing because it poses the idea that we as human beings might not be seeing something right in front of us. This has been pointed out a few times, such as in the movie Sausage Party, it makes us wonder if there is another reality right in front of our faces that we cannot see. Perhaps we have even chosen to ignore it. Goodness knows if anyone claimed to see something different from the rest of society they would be considered crazy, such as Steve Carlsburg would be if he brought it up. 

“This story may do you no good. But a story is never for the listener. It is always for the one who tells” (109). 

A Wild Force

Max was a field of wild flowers, his eyes crazed like the tangling of weeds and an array of flora. They blazed like the hot sun, that beat hard against the growing field, encourage it to grow higher.

His heart was full of untamed demons. Demons that bared there teeth in ugly ways and demons that cowered in the corner. They blazed through in his fiery words that seemed to speak so louder than his actions.

Max was a force, a pushing wind, a disastrous wave, a crack in the earth, and most of all a blazing fire.

David knew this, and realized Max should be approached with a caution.

He always touched him with gentle hands, never pushing or pulling, but asking with every touch.

Questions like, will you allow me to pick you up? Will you allow me too help you?Will you let me hold you close until your tears dry?

Max relished in the behavior of his newfound caregiver, loving the power he had been granted.

He loved to break down David’s walls with his fiery words, allowing his tongue to lash out everything his fists couldn’t convey.

David allowed it, only offering the kindest of smiles after every tantrum and holding out his arms in another silent question.

Max’s destruction wasn’t only focused on the tall man, who was the very bane of his existence, if his tongue couldn’t show the fierce anger that was fanned by the forgiving nature. He would force the lousy excuse of a cabin to endure his demons.

Knocking over lamps and destroying plates, would only be met with a pat on the shoulder and thin lips pressing against his forehead in a show of such love it made Max sick.

Max came to the realization after a particular nasty tantrum, that they were made for each other. That in some sick way the universe didn’t grant David the right to be his true father, but realized its mistake and forced the two to be together.

David was never deterred by Max’s pessimism, only greeting it with bright eyes and smiles. As if Max wasn’t a major source of destruction, as if Max wasn’t to be feared.

Then Max realized that David held no sense of cowardice when it came to his true nature. David was not scared of Max in the slightest when so many had flinched at his wild, crazed behavior.

David was a mountain, with jagged peaks that was covered with blankets of fresh snow. His eyes were like a blizzard, crazed yet calm as it beat against the base of the mountain.

David’s heart was a jungle filled with wild animals. Animals that roared and animals that cowered along the jungle floor. They rarely butted their heads when he spoke, and he allowed them to roam but only under his command.

David was an energy, a glowing green light that shocked everyone to their very core, something that changed their very being.

A force needed an energy and David was happy to fuel Max’s. In time they had to coincide. A destructive force couldn’t match a life giving energy. One would have to break. And a mountain wouldn’t flinch in the face of a storm.

That much Max understood.


“Why are you staring at me?” David laughed as he swept up the remains of what used to be a glass.

Max looked down at his new glass and scoffed.

“You’re an energy.” He says, not caring to explain, he briefly thought of throwing the glass to the floor. But ultimately decided against it.

David laughed again, “And you’re a feeling!”

Max stared hard at David, clearly taken back.

“Hm,” he said taking a swig of his glass and staring past the man and, out of the window behind him, at the patch of wild flowers that was taking over their back yard.

Welcome to Night Vale

Year One

(concerning the rips in reality and Huntokar)

1 - Pilot

  • A commercial airliner flying through local airspace disappeared today, only to reappear in the Night Vale Elementary gymnasium… before it could strike any players or structure, it vanished again. This time, apparently, for good. (obviously, current problem with the rips in reality)
  • Lights. Seen in the sky above the Arby’s…we’ve caught on to their game. We understand the “lights above Arby’s” game.Invaders from another world.Ladies and gentlemen, the future is here, and it’s about 100 feet above the Arby’s.
  • (also noteworthy - a bowling ball once fell into Mini Vale. Poor town probably got wrecked.)

2 - Glowcloud

  • Sorry, listeners. Not sure what happened in that earlier section of the broadcast – as in I actually don’t remember what happened. Tried to play back the tapes, but they’re all blank, and smell faintly of vanilla. (we know that some of cecil’s memories that he doesn’t remember are in fact from AUs but i’m not sure with this one, especially with the vanilla thing - i don’t think it was ever resolved? or was it the man in the tan jacket or somethin)

3 - Station Management

  • Our little town is lit, too, by lights just above that we cannot explain. 
  • Larry Leroy, out on the edge of town, reported that a Creeping Fear came into Night Vale today…  It did not affect Old Woman Josie, presumably because of her angelic protection … I myself was frozen, sure that any movement would lead to death; that any word would be my last.

4 - PTA Meeting

  • …a rift in space-time split open in the Main Street Recreation Center Auditorium, setting loose several confused and physically aggressive pteranodons. 
  • Several curious handball players in the court next to the auditorium actually popped their heads into the portal… aged several thousand years in what bystanders experienced as only a few seconds. Those handball players now straddle the unenviable border of millennially wizened and cripplingly insane. (i wonder if they know something about the recent reality rips?)
  • either prehistoric or alternate-universe Night Vale.
  • The creature’s lifeless body was found a dozen yards outside of the Dog Park entrance, stripped of all flesh, and with most of the organs inverted and strung around its exposed skull like an old fashioned soft meat crowns, as worn by the 18th century religious leaders who settled our fair burgh.
  • (iunno, might be huntokar? i mean what would tear a thing to shreds and make soft meat crowns out of its organs)

5 - The Shape in Grove Park

  • The moon’s weird though, right? It’s there, and there, and then suddenly it’s not. And it seems to be pretty far up. It is watching us? If not, what is it watching instead? Is there something more interesting than us? Hey, watch us moon! We may not always be the best show in the universe, but we try. (obviously, echoed by Mini Vale in The Missing Sky)

6 - The Drawbridge

  • [after a blackout] ….when the lights came back on, they felt that perhaps they were different people – their memories and identities were the same as always, but suddenly felt like costumes that didn’t fit exactly. As though it all were actually brand new to them. As though they had been switched out with someone who was exactly like them. As though all that was familiar would ever after be strange. 

7 - History Week

  • [prediction for year 2052:]  The City Council will reveal its true form and eat half of Night Vale’s population
  • Approval ratings for the mayor will hover in the low 40s…which will be surprising, as there will have been no mayor for over thirty years.
  • (ummm i dunno how long mayors are supposed to reign in Night Vale, but by 2022, there will be no more mayor? dana’s term started in 2015, so in 7 years there will no longer be a mayor. even if this has nothing to do with year 5 yet, i’m still worried)

8 - The Lights in Radon Canyon

  • [referring to Mini Vale] …every window of the city is now glowing both day and night. 
  • (the beginning of the Night Vale - Mini Vale war, i’m guessing. teddy williams started it or…?)
  • (also the lights in the canyon itself)

9 - PYRAMID

  • [message of the Pyramid:] “I will place within some of you questions. Within others, I will place answers. These questions and these answers will not always align. The questions I provide may have no answers, and the answers I provide may have no questions. I will study the effects of these questions, and these answers. Some of you will hurt others, and others will heal. Grow my seeds inside you, and let them flower.” 
  • (??????? I WANT TO BE GIVEN ANSWERS DUDE)

11 - Wheat and Wheat By-Products

  • idk if Apache Tracker suddenly turning Native American is reality-rip-worthy but
  • …Angels have gathered in a circle in her living room, blocking her view of the television. They are shoulder-to-shoulder, facing each other, radiant with holy light.“The Bowling Alley,” they are chanting. “The Bowling Alley.“

12 - The Candidate

  • the unholy voice of Old Scratch himself (idk who Old Scratch is but might be noteworthy)
  • [referring to noisy sunsets]… only Old Town residents have reported hearing these inconceivable noises

13 - A Story About You

  • …a vision came to you. You saw above you a planet, of awesome size, lit by no sun. An invisible titan, all thick black forests and jagged mountains and deep turbulent oceans. 
  • (note: You did NOT LIVE IN NIGHT VALE when they got this vision. They then drove to Night Vale afterwards, and even then found the town by accident)
  • You move wooden crates from one truck to another while a man in a suit silently watches. It is a different man each time. Sometimes the crates tick. Mostly, they do not.
  • [about the crate]  It’s warm, warmer than the air around it. It smells sharp and earthy, like freshly ground cinnamon. And when you put your ear against the rough warm wood, you hear a soft humming – an indistinct melody.
  • (while driving, You feels the Dark Planet Lit By No Sun again)
  • Apache Tracker’s warnings: 
    1 - You are in danger. 2 - They’re coming. 3-  They will come from below. Pies will not help.
  • (the crate has grown even warmer)
  • [about crate]  It pulses with some kind of life.
  • …pulls out of it an intricate miniature house…inside the house you think you see for a moment, lights and movement.
  • [about DPLBNS]: A monster. Spinning. Soundless. Forgotten. It’s so close now. You see it just above you. Maybe even if you tried very hard, you could touch it.

14 - The Man in the Tan Jacket

  • (first mention of Huntokar)
  • (assumption of a Child King ruling Mini Vale, but this is probably wrong….or very right. toss up)
  • (also, Teddy records footage from Mini Vale)
  • …the Angel said that the Man in the Tan Jacket with the deerskin suitcase was from a place underneath the earth.
  • (I AM GOING TO START SCREAMING)
  • (IS MINI VALE KING CITY??? IS KING CITY MINI VALE???? IS THIS WHY MITTJ WAS ABLE TO FIND NIGHT VALE BECAUSE HE WAS FROM AN ALTERNATE VERSION IN THE FIRST PLACE?)

16 - The Phone Call

  • (SSP telling everyone to prep for war, presumably against Mini Vale)
  • (also we are presented The List)

18 - The Traveler

  • (time traveler who wears a Desert Bluffs marching band uniform [which has not been worn since The Incident - presumably Strexcorp takeover; see Triptych] who presumably saved Night Vale many times before?)
  • Perhaps he has leaped again through the stream of time, or passed to an alternate dimension created by the changes he has made to our world.
  • nothing remained of The Traveler except for a pile of indescribable buttons from his uniform

19A and B (Night Vale and Desert Bluffs)

  • (larry leroy possibly already knew about doubles pre-sandstorm, but you know this probably isn’t relevant to year five)
  • (a vortex opened, leading cecil to DB and kevin to NV; i have no idea if the vortex was sanstorm-created or reality-rip thing. most likely a reality-rip thing because kevin has travelled to NV via vortex several times, and there was no sandstorm - see The Debate and The Investigators)

21 - A Memory of Europe

  • (Teddy Williams has created a 24/7 barricade around the entrance to Mini Vale)
  • I don’t remember having a traveling partner before or after Svitz. Who was he? Who knows? It all seemed perfectly normal at the time. (obviously not his brother Cal from 108; alt reality bleed or…?)
  • Eventually I was knocked out on one of our falls and when I awoke, it was in a different country. I had aged by years, and no one I talked to knew where the country of Svitz was, or even had heard of it. (def alt reality or something)
  • [Simone Rigadeau]:  The world ended three or four decades ago.  I don’t know what this thing is that we’re living in, but it’s not the world. Scientists won’t investigate it because they’re not real.
  • (LISTEN TO ME)
  • (IN EVERY ALTERNATE REALITY WE HAVE BEEN PRESENTED, THERE IS NO CARLOS AND THERE ARE NO SCIENTISTS)
  • (’SCIENTISTS ARE NOT REAL’)
  • (there’s a monster in Franchia)

24 - The Mayor

  • (Mini Vale residents presumably made the Desert Flower Boeling Alley’s jukebox continuously play Mister Brownstone. this ep has an ad for the Brownstone spire)

25 - One Year Later

  • (hhhgngngnpppffttt remember when cecil got carlos a trophy)
  • a commercial airliner appeared today inside the home of surprised Night Vale citizen Becky Canterbury
  • (i mean there’s so many things from this ep but basically, Mini Vale already was plotting a war against us and Teddy had set up a barricade against it; after this i guess Mini Vale just got full-scale destroyed, i think)
Something to Fear

Merry Christmas and Happy Truce to @darkeneddawning! She requested something to do with Ice King Danny–lucky me that she has so many cool drawings and headcanons for it.

Posting it a bit late. My fault for letting this get so long–was having way too much fun with headcanons for this. Enjoy! 

Danny took a deep shuddering breath, trying his best to shake the thrumming weight of exhaustion from his chest. It pressed against him like a physical mass, turned the pulsing in his veins to sludge. He wanted nothing more than to crawl back to sleep, but anxiety kept his eyes open. The adrenaline buzzing through his system forced him into artificial alertness. He crossed his arms over his chest in an attempt to appear composed.

Opposite him, twelve Observants rung out a perfect semi-circle. Twelve eyes stared him down. Twelve pale, slick bodies, glistening as if coated in condensation, walled him in. Running was a poor option, facing against a dozen creatures who claimed to See All.

Observants just observe. They don’t act. They don’t do.

Danny ground his teeth. His mouth tasted sour. He felt disarmed, knowing that beneath his ghost form he was pajama-clad and half asleep. It could have been an intentional nighttime ambush, or it could have been that the Observants had no concept of, nor respect for, human sleep patterns.

The silence ate away at his nerves.

What?” Danny finally spoke. He sparked a glow behind his eyes, despite the headache the brightness caused him. Clockwork had suggested that these things frightened easily. Danny prayed that their All-Seeingness couldn’t call his bluff.

The right-most Observant floated closer. Danny hid his flinch, pretending to busy himself in the vast foresty void beyond the ring of Observants. Cold—he’d forgotten how cold the Ghost Zone was. “You wish to know why we’ve summoned you, is that correct?”

“I wanna know why you think it’s okay to warp me out of bed when I haven’t done anything.” Danny swallowed, or he tried to; his dry throat betrayed him. “O-or is it my future self again? You planning to fight me yourself instead of having Clockwork do the dirty work? That’s good by me. Been wanting the chance to play ‘rock, paper, finger-to-the-eyes’ with you creeps.”

Keep reading

the boy by the power station

BASED ON THIS TEXT POST HERE

The boy has yellow hair, fluffy as a newly-hatched Pidgey, and he’s staring at the sky. “Hey kid,” Zenna says, “you need to get inside. Storm’s a-coming.”

He doesn’t turn his head; he says, “I’ve lost my baby,” while still scanning the low-hanging sky. The corners of his mouth quaver. Fuck. Zenna’s terrible with children; she never knows how to stop them from crying. Pokemon are so much easier.

“Your starter?” Zenna says: the boy looks about ten. Maybe. It’s hard to say. Locktown is a city built on crumbling industry, gouged by poverty, crouched in the shadows of the Zapdos Mountains – which jag up from the earth like the spine of a starved beast. It’s a hard land, and it’s inhabitants are hungry more often than not. This little one has sharp collarbones and pointed cheeks. Zenna pulls a chocolate bar from her pocket, unwraps it slowly.

At the crinkle, the boy’s head snaps around. His eyes are huge. “My baby,” he says again, “my Fearow.”

“Your –” his what. Fearows are savage bastards at the best of times, too much for all but the most hardy of trainers – more trouble than they’re worth half the time. “Your Fearow,” she says. The boy nods. He’s staring at the chocolate bar. Zenna throws it over. He fumbles the catch, snatches it up from the ground, doesn’t bother to brush the dirt off before cramming it in his mouth.

“Baby,” he says, “'cos Mama didn’t have any but me and she used to call me her Baby but she’s gone now so I’m the grown-up and he’s the Baby, see? He’s mine, he’s flown off, it’s the storm, you know?”

“You should get inside,” Zenna says, as the wind starts up. It’s bitter and spangled with ice. “Where do you live?”

“Uh – “ the boy says, “uh, see, there was Mama’s house only last week our landlord finally realised that we weren’t paying rent anymore and kicked us out – Baby would have stuck up for me but it isn’t worth it to fight them, no one can fight them, Giovanni would –” and his voice cuts off. He wipes a patina of snot on the back of his hand. “Mama always said to trust in my instincts so I did, I ran and I took Baby and ran and now I’m – I’m sleeping here,” and with one waved hand he encompasses their surroundings: wind-blasted fields, tumbledown factors, the wreckage of a once-prosporous town.

“You’re sleeping rough?”

“Yeah. Mama says – said – trust my instincts and they’re saying not to go back to Locktown.”

“It’s a dangerous place. Here, why don’t I help you find Baby?”

“Would you?” The kid’s face lights up. “Thanks miss!”

“Call me Zenna,” says Zenna, “Zenna Embers. Here,” and she throws a Pokeball. Her Charizard, Candela (named for her baby sister; they have the same irascible, demanding temperament; it seems only right), emerges in a flare of white light: the boy coos in admiration, and Zenna resists the temptation to preen. “Right Inferno! We’re looking for a Fearow –”

It all happens very quickly after that. A mighty roar of thunder shakes the earth. Lightning rends the sky apart with greedy, crooked fingers. Thunder answers the lightning, lightning answers the thunder, and in a heartbeat Zenna is in the middle of the worst storm she has ever known. Rain pounds down like the fists of a vengeful god, cold and punishing. Candela lifts his wings, intending to shelter her; but all this rain is worse for him, so she recalls him and screams, “Kid!” over the howl of the wind. “We’ve got to get to shelter! We’ve – “

Words snatched from her throat. The boy stands in a corona of light so bright it hurts to look at. There is a Zapdos on his shoulders. Its wings are arced over his head, shielding him from the downpour; the rain fizzles into steam against the lightning of its feathers.

And just like that the storm clears. Heavy grey clouds peel back to reveal the brilliance of a blue sky. And the kid says, “Baby! You worried me.”

The Zapdos – the Zapdos, god of lightning and god of the mountains and and and – nuzzles his head. He laughs in delight. “This is my friend,” he says, “Zenna,” and Zenna can barely breathe as the – god of thunder and bird of light and power and – regards her with two ferocious eyes. She resists the temptation to knee; it’s a primal, absurdist notion; but she’s faced with a myth, an actual honest-to-gods myth.

“That’s not a Fearow – it’s a Zapdos “ she says.

“Of course it’s a Fearow,” the boy chirrups, “got the pointy feathers and everything. Thought you were a trainer, you should know that sort of thing.”

“Uh,” says Zenna.

“Oh, where are my manners?” the boy continues, grinning and petting the Zapdos’s chest. “My name’s Spark. Nice to meet you!”

redstyxsora  asked:

#6 Rebelcaptain

6. things you said under the stars and in the grass

She never thought she’d ever come back here, but the war was over,  and it was time to live again. Cassian had been surprised when she’d mentioned it, he’d expected her to never want to set foot on that planet again, after all that had happened to her there. But she was resolute in her decision.

She’d stepped off the ship and into the verdant grass, and the memories came back in a flood. The homestead was long gone, but other than that not much had changed. She forced herself to take a step at a time, one foot in front of the other, reliving memories she had buried long ago.

She ran in this grass. She played in these fields.

Jyn bent down, felt the blades between her fingers. There was a mist in the air that left dewdrops, and she rubbed them into the grass with the pads of her fingers.

I was happy here, for a while, she thought. Long days of playing with no one but herself, helping with chores, fetching her father from the fields. Days that turned into nights, her mother calling her in for supper, and not wanting to come in she would hide. Her father would eventually be dispatched to find her, and he would only shake his head, hauling her over his shoulder as she squealed with glee.

Jyn smiled at the memory. Night had fallen, and she realized she had been standing in that field longer than she thought. Cassian had been busy unloading the ship, and came now to stand by her side. The stars twinkled in the darkened sky above their heads, an impressive smattering of light.

“Are you sure about this place?” Cassian asked softly.

“It’s safe enough,” Jyn replied, her chin tilted towards the sky.

“That’s not what I meant.” Cassian turned to her, his brow furrowed in concern. She didn’t think she could ever get over how he looked at her, how his face could be so open and expressive with her, but with everyone else his spy face was unreadable. Jyn smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“This was home, once.” She looked around her, at the mountains and jagged cliffs she could see in relief, at the blades of long grass at her feet, all illuminated by starlight. “But home isn’t really a place for me anymore.” She fisted her hands into his jacket and pulled him to her, and he responded in kind, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. She pulled him down so that she could bury her face in his neck, inhaling his scent, and placed a soft kiss on the hollow of his throat. He hummed happily, tightening his arms around her.

“Home is wherever you are.”

send me a ship and one of these and i’ll write a mini fic