wtnv fanfic

Serious Question

Why are there so many WtNV Christmas Cecilos fics, but not one of them is titled THE NIGHT VALE BEFORE CHRISTMAS??????

Looking for WTNV blogs

My dash is dead. I tried asking for help from the necromancer down the street, but she said she was too busy doing laundry to reanimate the dead for me. Maybe you could help instead?

Things I’m looking for:

  • wtnv art
  • wtnv fanfic
  • Cecilos
  • wtnv quotes
  • That hoard of lizards that escaped the zoo last week. You know the one
  • wtnv text posts and theories
  • General wtnv weirdness

Hey, Night Vale fanfic writers, we got a problem!  The short version is “a for-profit site is illegally putting AO3 fanfic to their site and profiting from it without your permission.”  You’ll need to search for the name you posted the fanfic under to find if they’ve done yours.

On the upside, someone has posted a handy guide to how to get your fiction removed from the site!  And it’s just cut and paste after you find what fics of yours they’ve posted!

So I made a sad cecilos drabble thingy

I had this headcanon about how time passes in the desert but not in Night Vale.

Aka Carlos ages but Cecil doesn’t. This resulted in a very sad memoir ish drabble from Cecil to Carlos. The full thing can be found on AO3, or below the cut~

Keep reading

The Man from the Desert

Good afternoon, Desert Bluffs! This is Kevin, bringing you all your news and good spirits for another gorgeous day in the Bluffs.

Oh, I have some fantastic news. While I was on my way to the station, I saw a man wandering out in the desert and, oh blessed listeners, he is handsome. I asked him who he was and what tempted him to visit our beautiful city. He says his name is Earl and just kept saying that he “shouldn’t have left.” Well, that’s true, I suppose. I can’t imagine why anyone would leave someplace as wonderful as the Bluffs. Something odd, though. He kept calling me Cecil and reaching out for me. Strange. He also said he was thirsty and weak and needed a doctor because he “can’t even bleed anymore.” Now, that is quite a problem, so I brought him to StrexCorp Medical and will be seeing him again later today.

If I may reiterate, listeners, this man is very handsome. He even said he loved me! And I instantly knew that I will love him back. 

We Know Where Carlos Is

I am so happy about the latest episode, and I know the rest of the fandom is too, but everyone has overlooked a very important point: Carlos has not yet been freed from The House That Does Not Exist. In real time, this has been a month. But how long has it been for CARLOS?

Rochelle from Carlos’s team of scientists says she was trapped in THTDNE for several hours in NV’s 45 minutes. Assuming she means exactly seven hours:

That is 9.3 (recurring) minutes per NV minute.

9.3 x 60 = 560 minutes per NV hour

560 x 24 = 13440 minutes per NV (24 hour) day.

Let’s assume Carlos will be trapped for 45 days, which includes the month that has already passed and the two weeks it will take until the next episode (remembering that the time elapsed in real time is equivalent to the time elapsed in NV time). This is also assuming Carlos will be freed in the next episode.

13440 x 45 = 604800 minutes

604800/60 = 10080 hours

10080/24 = 420 days

Carlos has been trapped in The House That Does Not Exist for 420 days.

Now imagine he does not have a food and water source.

Or that he does.

I’m currently writing a fanfic that explores Carlos’s 420 days in the house, so if you’re interested, feel free to follow me on my tumblr, where I will give updates and other WTNV theories.

I will be posting the fic onto my ao3 account and my writing blog.

Now have a good day! Haha.

Past Lives

[based on multiple prompts for some post-Best Of? fluff, and this song]

Carlos finds himself still listening to the nightly broadcasts, even now that Cecil is here, physically here, lying only a few feet away, softly snoring and mumbling wonderful nonsense in his sleep.  It’s simply routine at this point to lie down under the capricious constellations of the desert sky and switch on the radio.  He uses headphones - miraculously still functional despite the inestimable amount of sand and grit that must have found its way into every crevice - so as not to wake his sleeping lover.  

Keep reading

What if Cecil is on his deathbed one day, and talking to Carlos about

How he doesn’t want to leave Carlos, how he doesn’t want to let go because then Carlos won’t have someone to take care of him. Carlos won’t have someone who washes lab coats, or refresh his coffee, or someone to gently kiss his forehead. And Carlos says “I’ll be fine, I’m a scientist,” and with that, a smile crosses Cecil’s face and he let’s go when Carlos leans in to kiss him one more time. Then Carlos says, “Scientists are usually fine,” and Carlos starts to cry as the nurses rush in

Visitor made me really sad, so I wrote a little ficlet to go with it

~1.5k words, set immediately after ep. 43, Visitor.  mostly just comfort, but there is a paragraph describing bite wounds and their treatment.

Keep reading

cosleia  asked:

Please write about Cecil bedazzling a new lab coat for Carlos and a new chef's uniform for Earl so that they'll match his bowling shirt.

Three figures stared at three garments, names emblazoned in coloured rhinestones. Only one of them grinned nervously.
“Well? What do you think?” Cecil asked, glancing at Earl and Carlos. Earl was first to recover, closing his teeth with a click and picking up the white chef jacket with “Earl Harlan” traced on the back in sapphire sparkles.
“Um. It’s… very… um. Nice?” Earl’s voice lilted up, turning a statement into a question. “Um, thanks, Cecil. It’s certainly a… unique choice for league night.

Cecil beamed and clapped his hands once. “I knew you’d love it! Did I choose the right colour for you?”

Earl caught some of Cecil’s enthusiasm. He laughed. “Yeah, it’s lovely. Thanks, really.”

Carlos shook out the lab-coat so new it still had right-angle creases in it. He drew a finger lightly over the words “Carlos The Scientist” picked out in emerald green glass. He took off his stained and singed science lab-coat and put the new one on, performing a twirl that whipped the tails around dramatically. He turned his back on Earl and Cecil, looked back over his shoulder. “Do I look good in green?”
“Yes!” two voices in unison.

Cecil laughed as Earl and Carlos modelled their new personalised outfits.
“Oh, wait, wait, wait…”  Cecil pulled off his crop top and put on his bowling shirt, the one that now had “Cecil G Palmer” in amethyst studs on the back. “We look like a proper team now, we match!”
Earl and Carlos glanced at each other and grinned. Carlos kissed Cecil on the cheek. “Aw thanks, honey! It’s perfect. Are we bowling later?”
Earl frowned. “We can’t, Ceece, there’s one missing.”

Cecil held up one finger and shook his head.
“Earl, sweetie, did you think I’d forget a team-member?”
He pulled a junior sized two-tone shirt with a Desert Flower logo on the front and turned it for Earl to see. On the back, in topaz and tiger-eye, “Roger Harlan” twinkled in the sunlight. Earl hugged Cecil and yelled upstairs, “HEY KID, WANNA GO BOWLING?”