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oopshidaisyy · 4 years

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July Fic Recs

a little late but here we go!

praying for sparks in the dark (in the heart) by susiecarter "Him," the Bat repeats, in a low and deceptively soft growl. "I don't know who he was," the man says immediately, taking this cue and running with it. "I don't, honest. Honest, I swear to god. Nobody did. He just showed up, that's all. Asking about you, asking everybody what they knew, if they'd ever seen you, what you'd done. Metropolis," the man adds belatedly. "He had that look, you know? Clean. Said his name was—Carr, or Kemp, or something. Something like that." (Or: in a universe where Bruce becomes aware that someone's looking into the Batman, he goes to the effort to track down Clark Kent. It doesn't play out quite the way either of them expected.) Clark/Bruce, 20k, E

having let go forever the fallacy of ever being alone by gyzym This time there are shitty dogeared paperbacks Arthur wouldn't be caught dead reading piled on the coffee table, and half-finished crosswords tucked into the bookshelves, and the far wall is hung with that tapestry they'd bought in a shit part of London on a whim. This time they've spent all day fixing their sink and there's a mug of yesterday's tea sitting on top of the television and it's not just Arthur's living room at all. Arthur/Eames, 16k, E

A Sure Thing by lightgetsin "Okay," Peter says, and there's a rasp in his voice. "Repeat after me: theft is not foreplay." Neal/Peter, 3k, E

perfect strangers by susiecarter Batman and Superman are fucking. Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are a great cover for fighting crime, and also might be dating. Bruce and Clark have no idea what they're doing; but they definitely aren't going to be able to talk themselves into stopping. Clark/Bruce, 15k, E

run to the river (dive in) by susiecarter MoS AU: With one successful fishing season already under his belt, Clark's finally getting comfortable on the Debbie Sue. He just wishes this guy Dixon hadn't signed on with them, because the way he watches Clark is really starting to give Clark the creeps. (Or: Bruce goes undercover looking for enhanced individuals before BvS instead of after—and finds one.) Clark/Bruce, 5k, M

Took Me By Surprise and Then by thehoyden After the second surgery in New York, Charles doesn’t anticipate anyone keeping vigil by his bedside — and certainly not Tony Stark. Charles/Erik, 5k, T

as to which may be the true by susiecarter It isn't difficult to go on in the wake of Superman's death. His resurrection, though, poses a problem—especially when it turns out there's no such thing as the right moment to explain that Martha Kent's obnoxious billionaire friend? Is also the man who tried really hard to shove a kryptonite spear through Clark's face. Clark/Bruce, 53k, M

Blue Devils by VillaKulla /blo͞o ˈdevəl/ noun, inf: a feeling of despondency, depression, or low spirits origins: Old American West Billy/Goody, 4k, M

Spree by thingswithwings "So, okay, Britta," Annie says, "this thing you gave me is seriously just a scrap of ripped looseleaf that says 'IOU one shopping spree at A Woman's Touch.' I do not even know what that is." Britta does an excited little leap in the air and claps her hands. "It's me deciding to help you discover your true womanhood." Britta/Annie, 4k, E

embroidery appreciation by Annie D Written for an anon on tumblr who requested Natasha and Tony as brotp, or Steve/Tony being schmoopy in love. This is a bit of both. Tony & Nat, 1k, T

and every map is blank by gyzym It's -- topography, Carlos thinks, of a person, of two people, it's so complicated, it's so much easier to just go it by yourself. He doesn't want to hurt Cecil but he doesn't want to keep any part of himself from Cecil, either, and it scares him that that's true, and it scares him to know it's what Cecil wants. Carlos/Cecil, 7k, T

trothplight by arriviste “What a metaphor,” Grantaire said bitterly. “I may dress your windows, but no more. We’ll greet each other in the streets, but you won’t admit me to your chambers or your hearts. I know all the words, all the empty speeches one needs to mouth for membership – I can rattle them off as well as you. Want me to prate Hébert or praise the Supreme Deity? Quote Rousseau or Marat? I can mum them; I don’t, because I don’t mean them, and because I’m an honest sceptic, I’m untrustworthy.” Enjolras/Grantaire, 4k, E

A-Wing, X-Wing, Y-Wait, B-Mine (Please) by ester_inc Finn keeps finding himself in situations where – no, wait, let's start over. Poe keeps ending up shirtless, nearly shirtless, or soaking wet, and somehow Finn is always there when it happens. The universe is either taunting him with what he can't have or rewarding him for good behavior, and Finn can't decide which is more likely. Either way, he's emotionally unprepared for, oh, let's be honest here: Poe's entire existence. It's fine. No big deal. He's working on it. Finn/Poe, 7k, E

Just Give Me Moments by barricadeur Enjolras comes home from a protest to a not-empty apartment. --- "What happened?" Grantaire says. His other hand grips Enjolras's shoulder, as if to keep him from pulling back, but Enjolras is so tired that the energy necessary to break away seems monumental. He lets Grantaire inspect him, says only, "I hit my head." "On someone's fist?" Enjolras/Grantaire, 1k, T

The Rare Gift by triedunture The prompt was "Dean receives an . . . unusual . . . Christmas gift from Castiel." The gift turns out to be wings. Dean/Cas, 4k, M

i love you now like i loved you then (this is the road and these are the hands) by theappleppielifestyle Somewhere in their phone calls after Derry 2.0, Richie and Eddie had decided to finally take that road trip. Richie would fly in from LA, then they’d drive back there from New York. It’ll be just like it could’ve been, Richie had said once. (Or, Eddie and Richie resume.) Richie/Eddie, 6k, M

i guess i should say thanks or some shit believe it or not, charles has a well-thought-out moral philosophy. he doesn’t follow it. but he has thought it out. alternatively: charles and erik douche it up in amsterdam. Charles/Erik, 17k, M

this is your sword, this is your shield by susiecarter Post-BvS, Diana and Lois start to develop a habit of protecting each other. But sometimes habits become ruts, and every now and then it's a good idea to break out of them. (Or: a whole bunch of times Diana and Lois looked out for each other, plus the time Lois ended up feeling like it might be worth it to be just a little less careful.) Diana/Lois, 9k, T

Family Portrait, c. 1840, oil on canvas by littlerhymes Lestat's latest favourite is a painter. Lestat/Louis, 2k, T

get religion quick (cause you’re looking divine) by brinnanza So it was fine. Even if Crowley couldn’t love him, he clearly liked him well enough, and that was almost the same thing. It no doubt would have continued to be fine, or at least fine-adjacent, were it not for a narrowly averted apocalypse and several bottles of a really quite nice Riesling Aziraphale had found in the back room of his newly restored bookshop. Aziraphale/Crowley, 4k, G

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hypnoshatesme · 4 years

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Do you like Science? Because I’ve got my ion you

Cecil couldn’t stop fidgeting. He had gone through his entire wardrobe trying to decide on the perfect outfit for this occasion and now he was reconsidering if green had been a good idea after all as he fixed the slightest wrinkles in the sleeve of his tunic, only to wrinkle the other sleeve in the process. Cecil was nervous. This wasn’t sitting on Carlos’ car and watching the lights above Arby's in silence. This was a date. And it had been a long time since Cecil had been on a date. And he had never been on a date with somebody as perfect as Carlos.

He was overthinking again. Cecil tried to remind himself to breathe. It would be fine. It would be like that night, but with talking and drinking and eating. It would be just as nice. It would be better, even, lacking the shadow of (presumed) death that had hung over them the night on the hood of Carlos’ car. Cecil just needed to keep calm and conversation would come naturally. He could do it. Talking is what he did, after all.

“Cecil!”, Carlos' caramel voice called out as he speedwalked up to Gino's, in front of which Cecil was waiting.

The voice alone shattered Cecil’s feeble calm, his heart pounding nearly painfully as he looked up to meet the scientist. He hadn't seen Carlos since the night at the Arby's, where he had looked tired, shaken, dirty and bloody, but still like the most beautiful thing on earth. Now, in his pristine white lab coat, his glossy locks neatly combed with only a few stray strands falling into his forehead, stuck to his beautiful skin that looked like it'd be so very smooth to the touch. He was breathtaking. The very definition of perfection. Cecil’s mouth went dry.

"I’m so sorry I made you wait, the samples at the lab tried to escape and it took a moment to restrain them…", Carlos continued as he came to a stop in front of Cecil.

Cecil tried very, very hard not to gawk, to give any sort of answer, but Carlos flashed him an apologetic grin and Cecil nearly choked on his words. He tried again after an awkward cough, "O-Oh, don't worry, Carlos. I haven't been waiting too long.", he managed a tad quicker than normal.

Carlos grinned and nodded towards the door, "Let's not wait any longer, then." They both walked into the restaurant, tentatively locking arms on their way.

There was silence between them after they ordered and Cecil was trying to remember how to form words. He was known for babbling when nervous, a waterfall of words, pointless anecdotes and the like leaving his mouth to fill in any uncomfortable - and sometimes comfortable - silence. That wasn't happening today. He kept getting distracted by Carlos' fingers running through his gorgeous locks, by his hands rearranging the cutlery in front of him, eyes scanning the room occasionally. Had those always been so beautifully chocolate brown? When they fell on Cecil, Carlos’ perfect lips pulled up into a shy smile and Cecil forgot how to speak all over again, blushing deeply and scrambling to hide his embarrassment behind his drink, that thankfully had arrived quickly.

“I’ve been reading a book on Helium and struggling with putting it down.”, Carlos finally said, and Cecil was too busy trying to keep it together to notice the slight waver in the scientist's voice. He was too busy to even ask if said book was approved by City Council.

But he did notice the tone. It was the kind of tone used for jokes, one followed by an expectant silence and Cecil laughed before even registering the fact that he hadn't understood what exactly the joke was. He was too eager to finally know what to do and his body went on autopilot and then he was panicking again because he couldn't tell how much laughter was the correct amount to whatever Carlos had said. When he finally got himself to look up at him, though, the sight took his breath away. Carlos was smiling, warm and...relieved? Cecil wondered, but only for a fracture of a second, before he noticed the way the scientist's eyes crinkled and forgot all about the relief. Carlos' eyes were shining, his whole face was, illuminated by that perfect smile showing his perfect teeth. Cecil thought he might faint if he didn't look away but he also wanted to remember this expression forever, burn it into his memory - literally, if necessary.

Carlos started to talk about his experiments, then, and when their food arrived a couple minutes later Cecil had been swept into the conversation, nervousness melting a little with every smile Carlos gave him. He took a more passive role, nodding and inquiring further about the science Carlos was excitedly talking about. Carlos seemed to light up with every question or interested comment Cecil made, occasionally making another pun or joke Cecil usually didn’t understand, but laughed anyways, making Carlos chuckle on more than one occasion. It was the most beautiful sound Cecil ever heard.

Back at home after the date Cecil was still grinning, felt light and, if possible, more in love than before. It had been the most perfect date and he already felt giddy about the next one. When Carlos asked him as they were walking to the parking lot, Cecil’s answer had come out as a squeek, delighted and surprised that Carlos would want to meet him again. The scientist seemed to have enjoyed it, but having the confirmation made Cecil’s heart flutter all over again. And then of course, the kiss. Cecil hadn't seen it coming, hadn't expected it, and he was proud he managed to not drive into anything on his way home, with the knowledge that Carlos, beautiful, perfect Carlos, had actually kissed him. The small voice at the back of his head telling him that he had basically lied to Carlos by laughing without understanding was barely audible. Not with the lingering memory of Carlos' lips on his.

They were sitting on Carlos’ couch after dinner. Cecil had intended to take Carlos out for their third date, but all restaurants had been struggling with their food turning into a gelatinous, blue goo. Cecil had been quite excited to try something new, but Carlos had not liked the idea and had invited Cecil over to dine at his place instead. The food had been delicious and Cecil had been thoroughly satisfied at the blush dusting Carlos’ cheeks as he kept complimenting his cooking. “It’s adequate at best, really, Cecil.”, he kept mumbling. Maybe it was adequate at best, Cecil wasn’t much of a cook himself, but that certainly didn’t stop him from making sure Carlos knew how much he had enjoyed it. The fact that Carlos looked adorable when flustered didn’t give much incentive to stop.

They had moved to the couch after cleaning up and Carlos found that the avalanche of compliments falling from Cecil's lips was quite effectively stopped with a kiss. Cecil looked dazed when they pulled apart again, and Carlos couldn't help but try to bring him back with a particularly bad joke. He planted a kiss underneath Cecil’s ear, whispering, "I wish I were adenine, so I could be paired up with U.".

Cecil did snap out of his haze, blinking for a moment in confusion. When he spoke there was no trace of laughter in his voice: “Carlos..”, he said instead, voice uncertain.

Carlos felt his pulse pick up in panic, “Ah, nevermind, that one was really bad.”, he said too quickly, leaning away from Cecil and chuckling nervously. He could feel his face heat up.

Cecil’s face fell seeing how his reaction had made the scientist uncomfortable, “No, Carlos, t-that’s not...I...I don’t understand your jokes.”, Cecil said quickly, voice lowering to a murmur by the end of the sentence.

Carlos looked at him, blinking, “Oh well, I...I guess that might be a bit difficult for somebody who isn’t as familiar with science, I-”

“No, no, no, Carlos, I...I never understood them.”, Cecil quickly added, face flushing deeply. He stumbled over his words as he continued, voice getting higher in his rising panic, “I-I just thought you sounded like- you were clearly waiting for some sort of reaction and your tone made me assume you probably had said something funny so I laughed and you looked so very happy so I just...continued doing so and I was afraid to tell you that I didn’t understand the jokes. I didn’t want you to think I’m dumb or something but I also didn’t want to make you mad when you eventually found out I’ve been lying to you and-”

“Cecil!”, Carlos tried again since his first call was drowned in Cecil’s stressed out rambling.

Cecil looked up, tentatively meeting Carlos’ eyes. Cecil’s eyes were wide, guilt and embarrassment discernable in every of his features. Carlos couldn’t keep in the laughter that had been bubbling in his chest as Cecil was rambling anymore, not with Cecil’s grave expression in this thoroughly ridiculous situation, and so he snorted out a laugh.

Cecil’s expression morphed into one of confusion and uncertainty, and Carlos tried to calm himself down. He took Cecil’s hands and squeezed them, stopping their slight shaking and catching his breath, as he looked at Cecil’s shocked face.

Carlos smiled reassuringly, “Cecil, I love you so very much.”

Cecil froze, before his face lit up, “I...I love you, too!”, his voice went soft at the edges, dreamy. However, doubt made its way back into his eyes quickly, “You...aren’t mad?”, he asked, voice unsteady.

Carlos chuckled, shaking his head. He considered telling Cecil that he could never be mad at him, but opted for something else instead, “Sweet Cecil, if anything I’m thankful.” Cecil cocked his head to the side, eyebrows raising in confusion and Carlos squeezed his hands again, if only to keep himself from pulling the other man into a kiss right then and there. He definitley couldn't be mad at the radio host, not when he was giving him an expression like this.

Carlos took a deep breath before trying to explain, “I was so nervous that night and I had carefully planned out all the things I could talk about but then when I actually was sitting across from you I couldn’t remember any of it and I was starting to sweat from nervousness and when I finally managed to get myself together enough to say something that stupid joke came out and I…”, Carlos chucked a little at the memory, “I was half expecting you to just get up and leave after that.”, Carlos had been terrified, panicking the moment he closed his mouth. It seemed silly now.

Carlos smiled at Cecil, now, “But you didn’t, you didn’t even roll your eyes, you just laughed and that just...put me at ease and suddenly there was no problem in just talking normally. In that moment, I was so very happy I made you laugh, it gave me the confidence to go on and try to enjoy the evening. And I did. Did you?”

Cecil, whose eyes had gone wide with awe, nodded enthusiastically. Carlos finally breached the gap and pressed his lips to Cecil’s. Cecil returned the kiss eagerly, hands coming up to play with Carlos’ hair, pulling the scientist closer. Carlos hummed contently into the kiss, cupping Cecil´s cheek.

When they had to pull apart for air, both were chuckling at the whole situation, at the idea that the other had been just as nervous that evening. Carlos leaned his head against Cecil’s shoulder, sighing happily. Cecil was still playing with the tips of his hair, his other hand coming to rest in his lab. Carlos took that hand, caressing the smooth skin with his thumb. The sigh from Cecil was one of utter bliss as he buried his nose in Carlos’ hair. Cecil felt light, his heart fluttering and happy and he still couldn’t quite wrap his head around this, the fact that he was holding his Carlos and that everything was okay and Carlos seemed content.

Cecil thought he might burst with love. He hoped he wouldn’t, it would make quite the mess of Carlos’ neat living room and he was sure that would not be appreciated. Also, it would be much harder to curl that wonderful hair around his fingers when his fingers were just a splash of blood and bone on the carpet. Cecil pressed his lips to Carlos’ head, before pulling away slightly so that he knew Carlos could hear him, “Will you explain the jokes to me? I want to try and understand them...”

“Oh, honey, if I did that you would realise just how bad they are. You would probably miss not understanding them…”, Carlos mumbled as an answer, shifting to look at Cecil's face.

“Mhm, but I want to know for future ones! I want to be able to react genuinely…”, Cecil smiled, pressing a kiss to Carlos' forehead.

Carlos laughed, that wonderful sound Cecil had been afraid he’d never hear again after telling him he'd been lying to him, “Cecil, you shouldn’t encourage my awful puns and jokes.”

Cecil looked into Carlos' beautiful, chocolate eyes, his own twinkling with mischief, “I think I just finished doing exactly that.”, he grinned, and Carlos couldn’t help but grin back.

Cecil leaned down, planting a kiss on Carlos’ beautiful nose. Carlos huffed out a little laugh before pulling Cecil into another kiss. Carlos felt light. This was perfection.

#welcome to night vale #wtnv #Cecilos #cecil palmer #carlos the scientist #fluff #awkwardness #cute #they're such dorks #painful puns #wtnv fanfic

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alchemist-shizun · 4 years

Text

The Eyeless Cat

Part of the Welcome to Night Vale AU

Ts taglist: @whizzie72 @sapphire-knight @burningpersonflapsuitcase @softanxiouspatton @royallyanxious @kim-argent-moon @lance-alt @suffering-is-my-comfort-zone @sometimeswritingsometimesdying @pushussmollworld @mylifeisadeceit @spooky-scary-virgil @angstyfanfiction @artissijam @logicalberry (tell me if you want to be added or removed)

Word Count: 2,195

Characters: Deceit, Virgil, Roman, (Logan is mentioned)

Pairing(s): implied Loceit

Warning(s): eye injury, stitches mention, injured animal (please tell me if I missed anything)

Summary: Beware, the town's mascot appears to have found a new peculiar feline! Does it come for war or peace? Does it come aware of its conditions? Does it come? Does it at all? How many cats is Night Vale going to be filled with? Follow the subsequently solved mysteries with our two favourite beings.

A/N: Did someone order Deceit being excited about cats? The Night Vale aura might be a bit more off than the last fic but e h I'm trying my best. As well as Deceit might seem a bit ooc too as apparently I thought all of his dialogues in Cecil's voice (did I almost write Cecil and Carlos instead of Deceit and Logan? yes). I swear I will actually bring you Logan too, just you wait for me to write the 100th episode. That being said hope you enjoy! (Not all the events are actually taken from wtnv)

✾

❝ I'll morph to someone else

Defense mechanism mode ❞

« It was admirable how suddenly our favourite, and of course only, station cat was able to move from his spot. It did already happen once, back then when that ... devilish company unleashed an unharmful-looking beast that attacked him. » Deceit's voice lowered in a mix of repressed rage and regret.

Despite being in the past, memories would always come back to haunt you; sometimes they found you in a dark alleyway, sometimes they hovered over you when you pretended to sleep.

The black of the night seemed to be the most efficient medium to reminisce.

But other times all you needed was a detail, it would grasp your mind and never let go until you experienced second hand feelings from your past self. Everything at once in a matter of milliseconds.

When Deceit had seen Khoshekh's, or, rather, Virgil's cat body half bitten away by that horridly misleading creature, oh how deeply he had wished for his hands to be able to crush the toughest material.

The anger had soon left his skin and made way to concern and worry and that sense of impending doom impossible to ignore which set on the pit of his stomach.

It was one of the scariest days of his life, scarier than that one time he had almost died.

« And then he just … jumped out! I wasn't going to stop him, everybody knows cats can survive jumps from great heights. Like that one time Jasper, Derek's cat, had jumped from the tallest building of Night Vale and landed on his paws without a single scratch. That, of course, was thanks to the enormous wings attached to his body, which we learn that cats tend to grow around the age of five months old. Adorable! »

The fondness of Deceit towards said animals could be touched between the radio waves. He straightened his posture in his seat and leaned over his microphone.

« I simply looked out of the window, bending slightly towards the outside to witness what Khoshekh had in mind. And, listeners, you will never believe this. » Deceit smiled through the anticipation. « There was another cat right next to him! His fur was of a soft orange alternated with whiter stripes, but, sadly, I wasn't able to catch the eye colour. I couldn't believe myself when I saw them interact; Khoshekh made his first friend and we will celebrate this and welcome this new friend in our community with the warmest greetings we've gathered in our hearts. »

A shuffling of papers was heard while his tone shifted again. « More on the possible blossoming of a beautiful friendship as soon as we get more news on the matter. Let me take you to the weather. »

And the blasting of guitars started.

Deceit wasn't sure how long that weather was going to be: lately they had carried on for hours, almost forgetting about the passage of time which stretched and renewed with every instant, giving it no purposeful meaning.

This could only hold one significance: he was safe to visit Virgil once again, to check on him and see whether there were updates on the stranger cat or not.

It had been a long day.

Their search for a new intern hadn't yet been resolved; it's not like none desired to undertake the task, but they were literally still looking for their newest intern who had just applied.

It was a pretty young boy who had just moved to Night Vale for the sole purpose of working in the radio's internship so he could be more comfortable in the upcoming play he was going to star in. But, ever since he had applied, he had never been seen, nor he had ever shown up.

Deceit had been moving as if on autopilot, his body did the exact same trajectory for as long as he had wanted to check on Virgil.

He would make his way to the bathroom, wait for his friend to feel comfortable enough to appear in anthropomorphic form, talk to Virgil and then go back to make his last recording before finally going back home, unless the weather lasted for more than four minutes.

But this time he found himself out in the pavement next to the station's building, observing Virgil's moves.

The younger boy was in his cat form, staring directly at the corner of the station, as though he had been expecting something to happen for hours and hadn't yet gotten any sign.

« Waiting for someone? »

Virgil turned, his black fur like a speck of void sitting in the air. In a moment, a pale face was glancing back at Deceit, dark circles linked the white skin to the colourful tones of his left eye.

« There's something odd. » he mused with his arms crossed over his chest, the same spot he had gotten stitches on some weeks earlier. Deceit shook off the memory for the second time that day.

It was okay, nothing had happened.

« Isn't there always? What is odd, anyway? »

« I know, but- this is another kind of odd. »

Deceit let out an amused huff and walked closer. « You're starting to sound like Logan. »

Ever since the bio-machine attacked Virgil, he had stayed at Deceit and Logan's place to recover his broken bones and … trying to readjust to his previous life while dealing with all the injuries, the missing right eye he was now covering with his bangs …

And that was where he had started to pick up their habits, on a brighter note. They both found it delightfully precious.

« It feels different when he's around. »

« He? »

« The other cat. The orange one. » Virgil gestured to a spot, but Deceit saw nothing else other than a bench. « It's like he holds my own aura, he's more like me than he is like other cats. Not like Jasper, or Copernicus. »

« You think he can shape-shift like you? » Deceit tried to follow his connections.

« I'm not a shape-shifter. » Virgil had repeated for the millionth time, followed by a quick “Of course you aren't.” of his interlocutor. « I simply appear. » he added, scrunching his lips to the side afterwards, eyes narrow as he stared ahead of himself again.

He couldn't quite put his finger on that newcomer yet.

Now the newcomer was standing right in front of them, a few meters away, looking at- well, actually …

« Oh, those are some pretty red eyes! » Deceit approached, careful not to upset the feline, which at first backed away, but was far more comfortable when he sensed the soft and measured movements of the man.

He crouched down to him and looked at two little pinkish eye sockets. Deceit turned to Virgil.

« This poor creature doesn't have eyes? » he gazed back at the cat's face, which seemed to be able to capture where the man exactly was even with the lack of sight.

« Yeah, but that's not what's off about him. » the other clarified, while Deceit had already befriended the cat and had started petting its head, cooing at how cute he was.

The cat seemed to soften under his gloves' touch. « Oh, I think nothing is off about this gorgeous little buddy. » a wide ridiculous smile spread on his lips when he turned to Virgil. « Come here, he's very nice. »

Virgil rolled his eyes and complied, kneeling down next to them. He tentatively raised a hand and slowly caressed the back of the cat's body.

« We should name him. »

« Oh, please, you would end up with absurdities- What even is Khoshekh? »

« Excuse you? First of all, it's wonderful and second, you definitely love it- »

« I do not. »

« -You do. Now, who shall this new pal be? »

Virgil promptly picked the cat up without any other warning, surprisingly getting no other response from him other than a mute “Oh, alright, I'm being lifted off the ground I suppose. Neat.”

« I'm not going to stand here and watch you ruin his reputation for the rest of his days. » he started to back away, subtly amused.

« You're so dramatic. » Deceit snickered as Virgil clutched the animal to his chest.

« Thank you, I took that after you. »

« Come on, he can't just be “that orange cat”. »

« Why not? »

« He deserves a proper name. »

« You don't give proper names, Dec. »

« Then what would you think a proper name would be? »

The cat in Virgil's arms abruptly disappeared.

Instead, in them there was now a boy around his age, just a little taller than him, and just a little too close for Virgil's personal space.

« Uh … » he didn't move, not free from the other's arms yet. « How about “Roman”? »

Virgil blinked once, then twice and three times, disbelief still washed over him as he let go instantly after regaining his composure.

« You're … » just like him! « … the new intern? » Deceit questioned, remembering how familiar that name sounded. Pieces were all coming together: of course people couldn't find him, they hadn't been looking for the right creature.

« Oh! Yeah, that. I apologize, I might have missed the first few days but- » Roman cut off, looking down at his own body as if that would have explained his absence. « I got stuck. I had no idea I could do that. » despite his composed tone, confusion and mild agitation were still accompanying his face's features. A face with eyes, differently from his cat form.

« Oh well, there's always a first time as they say. Maybe Virgil could help you control that so you can still work for us? » Deceit regretted his own words the second he captured Virgil's death stare at the new citizen.

Trustworthiness of rare beings of your own kind coincidentally moving to your town wasn't going to be an easy effort. Especially when it came to him.

« Mh? » the new intern looked at the boy in question and put on the friendliest face he could muster. « Charmed to meet you, I'm Roman. » as he was extending his hand for Virgil to shake, the other began to walk back to the radio station's bathroom without a single word.

Words, in fact, were more Deceit's thing than his own.

« Aw, don't mind that. » he chirped, clasping his hands together. « Walking away from conversations is an open invitation to seek your interlocutor's company once again. I learnt that at the social interactions course in the community college. »

All he gained was a perplexed glance from Roman. « That's rather odd. »

Deceit tilted his head to the side, eyeing him cautiously. « Where … did you go to school again? »

« Uhm, New York City? »

New York City? he thought, that's not a real place.

Deceit brushed it off as Roman simply wanting to impress him. « Well then, new yorker, I guess, you might as well follow me inside; I'll show you around the place so we can get started. »

They stopped right before the entrance. « Ah, do not be bothered by station management, they will stare at you until their necks aren't able to turn anymore, which is normally around 437,27 degrees. » Deceit showed Roman one of his most encouraging smiles. « It's their way of greeting you, you'll get used to it. »

Roman blinked multiple times before he was able to process the information and follow Deceit inside.

✾

« Listeners, I have such exciting news I can't wait to share! » the pitch of Deceit's voice increased slightly. « So, in the past few hours where the weather took place, I had the pleasure to meet our newest intern, who's taking the place of our latest, as the passage of roles requires. » he waved at his current colleague. « His name is Roman and he's from … a place. A place on the earth, smiling at the sky with the same intensity as our desert town is yelling at the moon. Sorry about that, moon. We're trying to be better. »

Deceit shifted in his seat. « As well as we're trying to look out for any comforting sign the stars, any soothing sound in the wind or any pacifying rumble in the ground. But the important thing is: you're here and you're trying. Whichever option flows your way, bound yourself to it and let it hypnotize you into the eternal slumber of vigorous impetuosity. »

He let his temple rest on his hand. « Stay tuned next for quiet yelling and boisterous nothingness. » a smile crept on his lips when he realized he was very close to returning home to his boyfriend. « And as always, goodnight, Night Vale. » the smile grew wider.

« Goodnight. »

#purp's writings #sanders sides #fanfiction #welcome to night vale #wtnv au #ts au #sanders sides au #deceit sanders #ts deceit #virgil sanders #ts virgil #roman sanders #ts roman #logan sanders #ts logan #loceit #tw eye injury #read the warnings

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this-is-a-podcast-fanblog · 4 years

Text

another esteban fic

You thought I was done.

Night Vale spoilers ahead for the recent episodes as well as for Spy In the Desert!

~~~

The Night Vale adoption agency is the most important place Cecil has been to in a long time. It’s also one singular office, about the size of a hotel bathroom, with a card table and folding chairs under a bright poster that says, “YOU CAN ADOPT! YOU WILL ADOPT! YOU HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO ADOPT!” A very tired-looking case worker in a black dress sits across the table picking at a Nature Valley granola bar with one of her hands. Her other two are typing across a laptop.

“So,” she says, “adoption in Night Vale isn’t like other places.”

“Of course.” Cecil smiles and glances at his husband, who, thankfully, doesn’t look too nervous.

“Naturally, there are no cases of children that need to be adopted within the city.” She gives them a knowing look over her glasses. Carlos frowns in Cecil’s peripheral vision.

“Why is that?”

“Children in need of adoption are adopted by the Hooded Figures,” Cecil explains in unison with the woman.

Carlos shifts in his seat. “Um, is that a good idea? Are the kids safe there?”

“Of course. They have regular health and safety inspections from the Sheriff’s Secret Police, the Night Vale Board of Family Services, and the GrubHub delivery guy.” The case worker raps her nails definitively on the desk. “Plus, the kids have an indoor waterpark to play in once they get home from school. They’re very happy.”

Carlos lifts an eyebrow “But it’s proportionally impossible for a water park to fit in the dog par-”

“NOT ALL THINGS SHALL MAKE SENSE!” booms the case worker, and Carlos stops talking. “Now.” She collects herself and resumes her smile. “We’ll be adding you to a database of parents, since you’ve passed all of your inspections and filled out your paperwork. If there are children entered into the system, case workers will consider you to adopt based on the child’s needs and location. You’ll be getting a call from us soon.”

Cecil beams. He squeezes Carlos’s hand under the folding table. Carlos’s warm, perfectly soft thumb slides over Cecil’s wedding ring, an adorable thing he’s been doing for years now. Little touches like that are why it’s so easy to love Carlos. Carlos is an incredible scientist and husband, and soon, he’s going to be an amazing father. They both will be.

“If you have any questions?” The case worker’s first two arms tap her papers into a stack, while the third throws out her granola bar wrapper.

“How much notice will we get?” asks Carlos, who has a list of important parenting questions written down.

“At least 24 hours, in case you need to fly out of the city. Anything else?”

“Do you think babies prefer ducklings or froggies?” asks Cecil, who has been nesting for the past few days.

“Ducklings,” says the worker. “You two have a lovely day.”

They pull into the parking lot of Buy Buy Baby Not Bye Bye Baby, the best baby supply store in town. Cecil turns off the engine. Neither of them unbuckle. For a while, they sit in the silence of the car, watching a shopping cart roll away across the parking lot and into some ornamental bushes.

“We’re going to be dads,” says Carlos at length, breaking the silence.

Cecil turns to look at him. “How are you feeling?”

Carlos smiles, laughs, ducks his head. He’s so adorable. Even his awed laughter is perfect. “Cecil, I don’t have any scientific words for how I’m feeling - I don’t even think I can quantify it, you know? Cece.” He bites his smile, which has begun quivering. “I’m adopting a baby. With my husband. I just...”

“Never thought it would happen,” Cecil finishes.

Carlos nods. Cecil unbuckles his seatbelt and leans over to kiss the bridge of Carlos’s nose above his glasses.

“It is real,” he promises. “It’s really, really happening! And now we have to go buy some onesies while they’re still on sale!”

“I will not let anyone get to the onesies before me.”

“They’re OUR baby’s onesies!” Cecil proclaims as both of them get out of the car and run to grab a shopping cart.

The store is crowded today, moms and dads and parents jostling each other through the well-stocked aisles of formula and plushies. They are not like the Palmer-Scientist husbands, whose combined years of exceptional journalism and groundbreaking science have made them especially smart. Cecil and Carlos have their strategy planned. Carlos pushes the cart down aisles in the exact order that they need. Cecil stands on the front of the cart, shouting things like, “Hey, new dads coming through! If you don’t get out of our way you’re homophobic!

Back at home, they drag their purchases into a currently-empty room. This room promises to become a nursery, just as soon as one of them works up the courage to build the IKEA crib.

“You shouldn’t be able to buy an IKEA crib at Buy Buy Baby,” Carlos comments, as he begins unpacking a bag of stuffed animals.

“You shouldn’t be able to buy a lot of things at Buy Buy Baby! Oh, did we remember the -”

“-bloodstone mobile? Yup! I have it right here.”

“I love you.”

They turn on music and set up the nursery. Gravity in the town conveniently shuts off for 12 minutes, so they stick glow-in-the-dark stars to the ceiling. They hang up curtains. When gravity comes back they set up the changing station, with a mat on the top shelf, baby powder and boxes of diapers on the bottom shelf. Cecil is obsessed with the changing station.

“It’s so CUTE!” He gestures to one of the cloth diapers. “Look how TINY this is!”

“Babies are very small! Did you know that a baby’s head makes up more than a quarter of their entire body length?”

“No way!” Cecil thinks about adding that to the Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner, but they’ve agreed together not to talk about their adoption on the radio. He places the dresser next to the changing station and places the equally tiny baby clothes into the drawers. Cecil already has matching outfits for all of the baby’s clothes.

When Carlos gets frustrated over wrestling the IKEA crib, they take a snack break. They bring apple slices and peanut butter into the nursery, along with a bottle of wine, and sit on the floor to eat.

“Did the case worker say whether our baby is male or female?” Cecil asks.

Carlos pops an apple slice into Cecil’s mouth. “The concept of marketing color-coding to infants based on a gender they may not actually identify with is a capitalist tool to sell more baby clothes,” he says. “Also, it’s been scientifically proven that blue isn’t a more masculine color. And pink isn’t more feminine, it just isn’t.”

“I know that. But we need to get our baby a Social Night Vale ID.”

“Like a social security number?”

“More like a driver’s license. All kids under 18 have to have one, just in case they get arrested for not eating at Big Rico’s.” Cecil licks a smidge of peanut butter off of Carlos’s thumb. “Since not all kids can afford pizza, and so the law only applies to adults. It’s a get out of jail free card.”

“Huh.” Carlos frowns. “Even babies need one?”

“Yes. That’s the municipal decree.” Cecil stretches and refills his wine glass. “We can just put X on the form for now. City Council has to understand, I mean, we don’t even have the baby yet.”

“The baby,” Carlos repeats, like he’s savoring the word. “Our baby.”

Cecil gives him a quick kiss. Carlos wraps both arms around him and pulls him close, the two of them tangling up on the floor, and they turn it into a long kiss.

“I’m worried I won’t be a good dad, though,” Carlos murmurs as he sits up.

Cecil dusts off his polka dot overalls. “I think being a dad is something no one starts off good at,” he says. “It’s like radio hosting. Or pouring out libations to the elder gods. It just takes a little time to get into practice. C’mon.” He tips his beret-capped head at the IKEA cabinet. “Let’s fight this thing some more.”

A few days pass. Their nursery sits finished, though Cecil goes in every few hours to change the angle of a piece of furniture, or add another stuffed duckling to the pile of stuffed animals on a shelf. Carlos has added baby-proof handles to all of their doors, just in case the child they adopt is able to walk. “Did you know most babies take their first steps between nine and 12 months?” he says. “And then they start talking, like in little sentences, between 18 months and two years! But for some kids that kind of thing takes a little longer - I mean, I didn’t start talking until I was five. Or, some kids never learn to talk. And that’s okay!”

For the most part, they try to go about their normal lives. Guessing at what day they’ll get the call would only create anxiety. Cecil focuses on writing his shows and doing his outfits and makeup. “Babies need a lot of attention,” Carlos tells him. “We won’t have as much time for makeup or science or whatever.”

“You’re learning a lot of scientific facts about babies,” Cecil comments as he laces up his hip-high boots. They’re boots so high that they can be worn as pants, though he’s put a skirt over them anyway, because fashion.

Carlos nods. “Yeah. I’m... I’m worried, actually.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Worried that I’m not going to be as good of a dad as I want to be, you know? I want our baby’s life to be perfect.”

“Nothing is ever perfect,” Cecil assures him. Carlos nods, unconvinced. “I’m worried too, though. I understand. All we can do now is wait.”

In the end, they don’t have to wait long. The Palmer-Scientists are curled up in bed, sound asleep, a week and a half after visiting the adoption agency, when Carlos’s phone starts ringing.”

“Nhhh,” he mumbles. He tries to reach across Cecil to grab it and accidentally smacks his husband in the face. “I’m awake, I’m awake. Thanks, babe,” he adds as Cecil hands him the phone. “Hello?” Carlos sits up abruptly in bed. “Wait,” he says. “Really? Right now?”

“Put it on speaker.”

“Sorry, let me put it on speaker so Cecil can hear.” He fumbles with his phone through shaking hands. “Okay.”

“Hello, Cecil,” says the case worker’s voice. “Can you get a flight tonight?”

Cecil can feel his heart hammering in his stomach, and in his brain, and all throughout his body, like somersaults of nerves racking his entire form. “You mean...?”

“I’ve just received a call from the Children’s Hospital of Arizona,” the case worker continues. “They need an emergency adoption. A woman came in to their labor wing earlier this sick, but after giving birth, she fled. No one has seen her. She only left her baby, and a note saying she doesn’t want him.”

“W-why not?” Carlos asks.

“Because he was premature. Initially, it looked like he wouldn’t survive for very long. Don’t worry,” she says as Cecil makes a cry of worry. “He’s been very sick, but has improved in the past few days. The doctors want him to leave the intensive care wing, but only if a family can take him in immediately and monitor his health. They also want a family that lives near a hospital. Fortunately, you meet all those conditions.”

“He must be so scared,” Cecil whimpers, “All alone there.”

“Which is why you need to get on the soonest flight you can. Tonight, if possible. From there, get a taxi or something to the hospital and check in at the maternal wing. And you’ll need an incubator at home, just as a precaution if he gets sick again. Okay?”

Carlos nods and squeezes Cecil’s hand.

“Okay. I’m looking forward to seeing you two in my office soon.” There’s a smile in the case worker’s voice. “With your son. Please call me if you need anything.”

“We will. Thanks.”

Carlos hangs up. He sets down his phone on the bed and turns to Cecil, and when their eyes meet they both burst into tears. Cecil collapses into Carlos’s arms and buries his face in his shoulder, shaking. “Oh, my god, this is happening,” he whispers. “And-and he’s all alone, in Arizona, and he’s sick -”

“Yeah, and what if we can’t take care of him?” Carlos’s arms tremble. “If, if I’m a really terrible dad, and I make him even more sick? And he gets taken away from us? Or he grows up and he isn’t happy here, isn’t happy because I wasn’t good enough -”

“Carlos.” Cecil sits up and wipes his eyes. He cradles Carlos’s face in his hands. “Carlos, you are the most perfectly imperfect person, and husband, and you will be an amazing father. Okay? Like the case worker said, we’re right near the Night Vale hospital! We can help our son if he gets sick again.” Cecil sighs as Carlos keeps crying. “Sweetie...”

This is new to him. Because when the town is falling apart or the grocery store stops existing or dragons sweep from the sky, Cecil has an answer for what Carlos doesn’t understand. Or when something in the world is confusing, Carlos has a scientific explanation for it. There are no explanations for learning, in the late hours of the night, that their future son is sick in another state, and that in the course of a few short hours, their entire life will change.

Instead, Cecil cuddles Carlos closer and kisses the top of his head. “We will be okay,” he says. “And our son will be okay. I promise.”

Carlos sniffles and dabs at his eyes with the sleeve of his nighttime lab coat. “B-but we don’t have an incubator.”

“Okay... so only one of us will go to Arizona. You go, you know all the scientific facts about babies.” Carlos’s eyes go wide. “You do, Carlos. You know so much! And you’re better at leaving Night Vale, anyway.” The last time they tried to leave the town for a weekend getaway, Cecil kept teleporting back to Night Vale against his will. Aging did that to citizens. “You can do this, bunny. I know you can.”

“I can do this.”

“Yes, babe.”

Carlos nods and takes a deep breath. “I’m going to go get our son,” he says. “And bring him home, safe.”

“And I’m going to get an incubator and have his nursery all ready for him when you get back.” Cecil smiles. “This is exciting! Carlos, we’re finally going to have a baby! We’re going to raise a family together!”

“Yeah.” Carlos smiles and leans in to kiss Cecil. “Yeah, we are!”

They get up. Cecil packs an overnight bag for Carlos while Carlos packed a bag for the baby - diapers, formula, an outfit and a warm blanket for the plane.

“Okay,” he said as he stuffed a blanket into the baby bag. “Do I have everything?”

“You’re forgetting your bag.” Cecil held it out. “This has an extra lab coat and your fidget magnets. Oh, and some snacks. Snacks are very important.”

“You are the best.” Carlos kissed Cecil’s cheek and took the bag. Then he drew a deep breath and looked around. “Well,” he said. “This is the last time we’ll be alone in our house for a while.”

“Our entire life is about to change.” Cecil smoothed the lapel on Carlos’s lab coat. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come to the airport with you?”

“No, I want you to sleep. We won’t be getting a lot of it, because on average, babies will wake up and cry two to three times a night, and they won’t go back to sleep until they’ve been comforted and fed.”

“That’s a good fact to know.” Cecil holds out his arms for one long hug. “I love you so, so much.”

“I love you too.”

They break apart, kiss, hug again, break apart. “Okay,” says Carlos. “Okay.”

“Okay,” says Cecil. “Oh, wait!” He runs to the nursery and brings back one of the stuffed ducklings. “So he’ll have something to play with.”

Carlos nods and tucks it into the baby bag. Cecil reaches up and gives him one last kiss.

“I love you,” he says. “Bring our son home safe.”

And then Carlos leaves, with the sound of a closing door and a revving car engine, and Cecil is alone in the house watching the lights of Carlos’s car fade through the window. He puts on one of Carlos’s lab coats, gets a blanket, and goes to the nursery. He double- and triple- checking that everything is in order. The sun-shaped clock on the wall proclaims that it is 3:12 AM. At eight, he will get up and drive into the shopping district for an incubator.

For now, he curls up in the rocking chair. He watches the bloodstone mobile spin in a breeze that isn’t actually there. And, eventually, under the clock’s steady ticking, Cecil falls asleep in a coat that smells like his husband, in a room that will be his son’s.

#my little brother was adopted when he was 2 months old #he's older now #and he still can't talk #but that doesn't matter because he's found other ways to communicate #all kids deserve love regardless of how they communicate #welcome to night vale #night vale spoilers #cecil palmer #carlos the scientist #cecilos #esteban palmer #my fanfiction #all hail the glow cloud #thank you finknor for my life

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ace-alex-art · 4 years

Text

Please…

Tw: dub con (just some kissing but still be warned), betrayal, blood, scientific experimentation, scalpel, knife, body mutilation, temporary character death, more permanent main character death (kinda)

I must be truly dead. Nyx thinks as he wakes up. His eyes are still closed, but he can feel the difference in his surroundings. The freezing stone he had passed out on was no longer freezing nor stone. It was soft and plush nd very warm. He feels a weight on and against him, and for a moment he fears to be trapped in a coffin.

Opening his eyes reveals an even stranger truth. He’s greeted with a mass of blond hair in front of him and the lanky radio host curled against his chest. Behind him Carlos presses into his back, an arm draped over both men. This can’t be real… Nyx sits up a bit to look around the room, though Cecil and Carlos make a sound of protest at his movements. The room was a bit of a mess, but nearly identical to how it was the day he was taken. Clothes were strewn about from a rush to get ready for work or a rush to get undressed he wasn’t sure. “I’m… home?’ He whispers as if being too loud would break this illusion and send him back to the cave.

“Mm you are” Cecil yawns and smiles up at him, sleep still in his eyes. He sits up, draping his arms loosely over Nyx’s shoulders, and softly kisses him. “Gods, I missed you.”

Nyx is hesitant at the touch before melting into the kiss. He wraps his arms around the lanky blond in a tight hug. “Cecil,” His voice cracks. “You’re- you’re real. This is real. I’m home.”

“You’re home. You’re safe, Nyx. I’ve got you.”

“I was- he- he had us for so long. I-I thought you forgot about me. I thought-“

“Shh shh none of that.” Cecil’s tone is so light as he holds his fiancé close. A gentle kiss to the top of Nyx’s head sends him into tears.

——

It’s a week before Nyx starts to relax. The nightmares continued to plauge him every night and he swore Xavier was talking in his head, but he was beginning to feel safe again. Curled up in bed with his fiancés, he felt the safest he had in months or was it years? He didn’t talk much about the time he was trapped, and they ddn’t push. They just constantly reminded him how much they missed and loved him and that they would keep him safe.

Carlos was on his left reading a joke book Mika had given him because “you suck at jokes with yer stupid nerd shit.” Although from Nyx’s angle, he could still see notes the scientist had written in the margins about how unrealistic and factually incorrect some were. Others had notes that added as an explanation to the joke. One in particular he could see was “why can’t you hear a pterodactyl going to the bathroom? Because the p is silent because it comes from Greek roots because they used pt to make the t sound.” Nyx softly laughs. Mika will give him a hard time for that.

Nyx makes a soft noise of surprise when Cecil joins him on the right with a kiss to his temple and mug of tea being pressed into his hands. “Thank you, mo chuisle.” He smilles.

“Thought it would help you unwind.” Cecil smiles and stretches out before beginning to work on his latest knitting project. Mik was going on about this game where they play as colorful astronauts that murder the others, so he was making them a plushy of their character.

The tea certainly helped him relax even more. It didn’t occur to him until his eyelids were too heavy to keep open, but he tasted a faint bitterness on the back of his tongue. The world went dark before he even finished the cup.

———

Nyx awakes mostly naked and strapped to a freezing table. A quick glance from what little he could move his head gave him enough information to know where he was. Carlos’ lab. He was hooked up to a bunch of machines that definitely alerted the others that he was awake since his heart rate was spiking.

“You’re awake.” The honey voice came from out of Nyx’s view. “Good, I can only do so much with an unconscious subject.”

“Carlos, what’s happening? W-what are you doing? Why am I here? Why-“ he flinches hard against his restraints when Carlos slams the clipboard down near his head.

“You are fascinating, do you know that Nyx?” The gentleness of his voice didn’t match the anger he had when he slammed the clipboard nor the dark look in his eyes.

“Carlos…”

“You are truly fascinating, and I am a scientist after all. It’s my job to investigate the scientifically fascinating.” Nyx’s blood ran cold as Carlos put on new gloves. “I’ve already learned so much from my time with you, but it’s only raised more questions. What makes you heal the way you do? How far can you be injured without iron and still be able to piece yourself back together? At what point do you stop feeling pain?” He takes a scalpel and makes an incision at the end of his collar bone down to his hip. "How different are your insides?”

“Carlos- Carlos please don’t.” Nyx could hardly move but still struggled as best he could. “Carlos please-“

“Subject becomes more vocal upon initial incision.” Carlos notes, shoving a gag in Nyx’s mouth and continuing his work. The cloth does little to muffle Nyx’s screams once the scientist begins to pull the skin away from his chest to reveal his organs. A small mallet and the rib cage is broken. “Interesting. Ribs appear to have runes etched into them.” He notes as he sets them aside to access the organs.

Carlos was slow and methodical the entire time he cut out Nyx’s organs and weighed them. Different measurements were taken and he cataloged them all in their own trays. He took the less vital ones out first, not wanting to end his experiments so soon. Nyx screams and begs behind his gag. Carlos details everything about all the pieces. The hand holding Nyx’s barely beating heart had no remorse as it took the last the fae had to give. Nyx’s screaming stops finally. For the most part they appeared nearly identical to a humans, and it upset him that he hadn’t waited until Nyx was in his true form to begin direction. No worries though, they had plenty of time to continue their experiments.

——-

“One hundred thirty six hours six minutes and forty seven seconds.”

“What?” Nyx rasps, just beginning to wake up.

“Subject has regenerated all vital organs for sustaining life within six days.” Carlos writes some more before grabbing a surgical saw.

“No, please” The fae tries to free himself to no avail. “Carlos, please. Let me go. I-I won’t tell anyone. Please. I-I won’t-“

His cries were drowned out when Carlos turns on the saw, and the screams that follow nearly drowns the saw. Nyx passes out many times during Carlos’s experiment.

It was apparently fascinating how, without magic interference like with his leg, limbs regenerate pretty fast. That only prompted more research about how many limbs and the time for each. It is a terrible existence, and it breaks Nyx.

“Stop… please…” He cries when he wakes up again. He wanted this to be over. He wanted to b free or at least for Carlos to kill him for good. To let him stay dead. It was too much now. It all needed to stop. “Please… Cecil…” but Cecil wouldn’t save him. He just watched with sick fascination last time Nyx called for him. Sebastian was dead. He had watched Carlos drive the knife through his heart. If he wasn’t dead for good well then he at least decided he wouldn’t save him. This torture was the worst in his existence. He’d do anything for it to stop. So he cries out once more. “Xavier… help me…”

Nyx is almost dead again when Xavier finally shows up. He drives the knife deep into Carlos’s heart and tears it out violently. The scientist is dead before he hits the group. He deals with Cecil with little issue before cutting Nyx free. “I’ve got you.” He carefully picks him up.

Nyx tries to speak, but all that comes out is a broken cry. He didn’t want them dead. He loved them still. He just wanted the pain to stop.

Xavier grins once Nyx is unconscious. The glamour falls away from the room. The dead Cecil and Carlos revert back to their changeling forms. “It was a lot of work to pull off, but it was worth it.” He laughs darkly. For I am his savior now. And he won’t try to run away again. After all, where would he go now?

#whumptober 2020 #whumptober2020 #my writing #dubcon tw #knife tw #blood mention tw #body mutilation tw #main character death #kinda #my oc nyx #my oc xavier #wtnv carlos #wtnv cecil

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video-killed-the-radio-host · 4 years

Text

Our Own Kind of Love Letter

Inspired by this tik tok:

Carlos chuckles and waves a little as he returns to his work on the computer. Cecil stands and bids him goodbye before leaving. They had been getting together for the past three months as Cecil teaches Carlos the history of Night Vale. He's come to notice the other man is a lot more soft spoken away from his mic. He seemed almost….shy.

Carlos looks away from the computer and notices a jacket draped over the chair Cecil had been sitting in. Cecil's jacket. He pushes his chair back and moves around the desk, picking the jacket up. It was softer than he expected. He isn't sure why, but for some reason he brings the coat to his face and buries his nose in it. It smelled of Earl Grey Tea, limestone and something completely and utterly Cecil. Should he return the jacket? Of course. But now? It's late and Cecil is most likely about half way home by now. It would be rude to call him back. That leaves tomorrow. He'd drop it off in the morning, he decided. Part of Carlos wanted to wrap up in the jacket, to smell Cecil all around him. Then he pauses. Okay now you're just being weird.

Carlos quickly puts the jacket down, hearing something solid hit the ground.

"What…?" He crouches and picks it up. It's a tape recorder. Safe to assume it fell out of the jacket's pocket. "Oh god. Please don't be broken." Cecil is going to be pissed….

It didn't look broken…. Carlos holds his breath and hits play, hoping it worked fine.

"I...i talked to Carlos today. For the first time. Actually he did most of the talking but I didn't mind. It was rather adorable…..is it okay to say that about someone you just met?"

The speaking stops and Carlos assumed the recording was over before there was a soft inhale.

"I'm extremely lucky he's even willing to talk to me at all." It sounded like Cecil was fighting to keep his voice from breaking and it made Carlos's heart hurt. "I was an idiot on the show last week. I don't know what came over me. I try to control myself but on air…..it's as if I lose any filter. If I keep this up he's going to-" Cecil's voice does break that time. "He's going to end up hating me because of inappropriate commentary. I don't want that. I want at least a-a friend."

There was a click to signal the end of the recording before another click as a new recording began.

"Carlos is actually still willing to be around me. It's a miracle. Also. He's a really good friend. His jokes tend to go over my head a lot but he seems entertained so I don't mind. I was surprised when he asked to learn about Night Vale. No one really talks about the past anymore. But a new perspective is nice. He seems happy to learn. Of course he is. He's a scientist. He told me 'A scientist is always learning Cecil. With everything they do.' Well….whatever makes him happy. He looks best with a smile…"

The recorder clicks again and Carlos turns it off before another recording can start. The second recording was much happier than the first. He assumed there were more recordings but it's wrong to snoop. This did give him a lot to think about though. He gathers the jacket and the recorder and carries it to his apartment above the lab.

-----.-----

Cecil got about halfway home before realizing he didn't have his jacket. He sighs and pulls into the Ralph's before turning around and heading back to the lab. It didn't even cross his mind that Carlos may be asleep until he pulls into the parking lot of the lab. He gets out of the car and tries the door, finding it unlocked. Maybe he was still up. He noticed the office door is slightly ajar and makes his way over. He can see Carlos inside. His heart melted a little when he sees Carlos's face buried in his jacket. Did he smell good? He watches Carlos put the jacket down and winces when something solid hits the ground. He watches as Carlos picks up the recorder he keeps in his pocket at all times to record his thoughts. He holds his breath. Please don't listen please don't listen please-

"Oh god. Please don't be broken."

Carlos speaking brings Cecil out of his thoughts. He covers his mouth to silence a giggle. If a simple drop broke the recorder it would have been out of commission ages ago.

"I….i talked to Carlos today."

Cecil freezes. Oh gods. He's listening to it. At this point, fight or flight kicked in. Cecil chooses flight and hurries back to his car. Once inside the car, he grips the steering wheel as he feels pressure builds up in his chest. How could he be so stupid as to leave that behind? He probably ruined the growing friendship between Carlos and himself. He would have to face Carlos to get his stuff back. Maybe the void will swallow him on his way home.

-----.-----

Carlos takes a deep breath and knocks softly on the door of Cecil's booth, jacket in hand. He hears a soft shuffling before Cecil opens the door.

"Carlos." He says softly. Why does he look terrified?

"Hey." Carlos clears his throat. "Right. Um....this is yours." He offers the jacket.

"Thank you." He takes the jacket with slightly shaking hands. He bites his bottom lip for a moment. "Dropping the tape recorder is probably the least dangerous thing to happen to it." Cecil blurts.

Carlos is stunned for a moment. "You were there?"

"Well….only for a moment." Cecil keeps his eyes down.

Carlos instantly felt guilty. "I-Im sorry. I shouldn't have-i know its personal. I just wanted to make sure I hadn't broke it."

"Carlos…"

Carlos looks at his watch and swears softly. "I have to go." He leans forward and kisses Cecil's cheek without thinking about it. "I think you should listen to the last recording. And then call me. Alright?"

"Okay…" Cecil says softly, touching his cheek as Carlos hurries away. He shuts the booth of the door and digs out the recorder. He looks it over. It had a new scratch but that was nothing new. He sits down and takes a deep breath before pressing play.

"Cecil...i don't know when you'll be listening to this but i want you to know I could never hate you. Its true when I first heard you on the radio I was a bit overwhelmed but then i got to know you. The real you. I was amazed at what I found. The person that you are….and so I'm asking you, Cecil, if we can explore something more. Something….personal. I want to learn. To learn about you. About us. Oh, and P.S. you could always just ask me to explain my jokes. I will. I promise. One more thing. I've always found you adorable."

#welcome to night vale #wtnv cecil #cecilos #cecil palmer #wtnv carlos #carlos the scientist #short but sweet #short but cute #fluff #good clean fluff #just fluff #small tiny bit of angst #mostly because cecil cant communicate #soft cecil #shy cecil

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cecilspeaks · 5 years

Text

147 - The Protester

Hot singles in your area are staring into the forest and grinning absently.

Welcome to Night Vale.

Astronomers are frantically trying to determine why a chunk of the moon is missing. Ragged and greedy like a slice removed from a pie by hungry hands rather than a civilized serving utensil, the gap in the moon has been baffling professional sky gazers for weeks. Fun fact: did you know a group of astronomers is called a commotion?

Astronomers believe the moon could be eroding, because people have stopped believing in it, like ancient Roman polytheism. Others have theorized that the moon was damaged by enemy ships in the ongoing Blood Space War. But people on the internet have countered that this is part of the mandala effect, and that that piece of the moon has always been missing and we’re collectively misremembering. Like how those beloved picture book bears that we all remember as the Berenstein Bears, have by all physical evidence always actually been spelled “The Dog Pound Boyzzzz”. Boyz with a Z. Because of the 2016 city ordinance that proclaimed that anything can be true if you say it loud enough, astronomers are forced to consider all sides.

I don’t know any astronomers, but I do know a scientist! My husband Carlos has been the leading scientific mind in Night Vale since we started dating, almost six years ago. Carlos says that he has been studying and interesting meteorite he found out in the sand wastes and scrublands beyond Night Vale. He believes this particular rock is a piece of the moon. Standing before a giant wall of blinking lights, flickering screens and intermittent beeps, Carlos determined that this piece of the moon broke off only one month ago. But this is impossible, because no one can remember seeing the moon breaking apart in the sky. Well, maybe we were all asleep when it happened, I told Carlos as I dabbed away a small crumb from a cheese Danish that had gotten stuck in his beard. Oh, fun fact: Carlos grew a beard! And I have never liked beards on men, but now – I do. It’s got two thin silver racing stripes down the chin, and the hair is so soft. We’ve been married over two years and every day, I fall more in love.

Oh right, the moon, OK good God, always with the moon. [mutters] Yeah, yeah… Carlos has been studying an unusual number of empty homes and businesses about town. He noticed that the houses on either side of us are completely empty, but he didn’t remember them being empty before. He remembers us having neighbors, but he couldn’t name a single thing about them. He believes this might be related to the damaged moon. Whatever happened a month ago to the moon immediately caused us all to forget it, because something in our timeline changed. Carlos said: “Perhaps we are not forgetting people and events, perhaps they never existed at all.” His eyes were cloudy with pensive thought, and I touched his furry cheek and said: “You’ll save us, hon. I know you will.” He smiled and asked if I’d be willing to reach out to archeology professor Harrison Kip again. Carlos, uh, had been communicating with Kip about this very issue, but now emails to Harrison keep bouncing back, and his phone number is no longer in the phone company’s database of working numbers. I laughed and said: “Carlos, I don’t know who Harrison Kip is!” Carlos looked worried, and said he wasn’t sure he did either. But he felt like he should.

Protestors have organized a sit in in front of city hall, demanding an end to the Blood Space War. The city council, seeing the crowd of about 150 people gathered around the front entrance of their building, took immediate action. They announced they would be taking a long planned family vacation to the Badlands National Park in South Dakota, until this whole protest thing runs its course. “We don’t believe South Dakota actually exists,” the single-bodied, multi-voiced council said. “When you look at a map, it seems like it exists, like it’s just right there when you look at it and it’s between two other identical states, so it would make more sense for it to be there than not. Anyway, this feels like a great time to take the kids to see Mount Rushmore.” As the city council said this, several small childlike heads emerged from the city council’s singular body and screamed in happy unison. Or terrified unison. Mm, it’s hard to get an emotional reading on screams.

The organizer of the protest is 20-year-old Night Vale community college student, Basimah Bishara, whose father Lieutenant Fakir Bishara returned home from the Blood Space War three years ago. Basimah greeted her father’s return with joy, but that joy has since been replaced by confusion and pain. Let’s hear Basimah’s story in her own words.

Basimah: Time no longer works correctly for my father. I understand time does not work correctly for many people in Night Vale, but it had always worked correctly for him before the war. In December 2015, he returned home after 11 years of serving our city, our country, our planet in a war that still makes no sense to me. I was six when he volunteered for service, he was 30. 11 years later when he returned home, I was 17. My father was 19. He did not remember joining in the war nor having a daughter nor meeting his wife. He is a teenager, like I was. I no longer am a teenager, but my father still is. He has stayed 19 years old. Time no longer works correctly for him.

My mother Tahira raised me. She expressed reticence about the band I started, the music we played. She grounded me when my grades slipped and shouted at me when I told her I had a girlfriend. But she came to love Marina and more, my mother came to understand as both as people, as women. Not as rivers to be damned or levied.

My father’s return has been especially hard on her, because she is 45 and her husband is a 19-year-old stranger. You probably know what it’s like to have a father, to have a man much older than you who changed your diapers or watched your diapers being changed. Who taught you to speak or ride a bike, who helped you develop as a human from an animal from a larva from the simplest, squirming wad of meat into an adult. That father will always be a father, not a friend, not an equal, a father. You probably do not know what it’s like to see a father at your age, to talk with your father when he is also barely an adult. To have your father lonely and inquisitive think of you as his only friend in the world, while you look to him for guidance and love. But he is incapable of both, at least not in the way you need to be guided and loved.

It took two years for Fakir to open up about the war and it still makes no sense to him nor me. The Blood Space War requires constant shifts through time, through worm holes to change lost battles into won battles, to undo what has already been undone thousands, millions of times over. The future does not look like a blank page, it looks like a tattered sheet of paper, grayed and frayed from countless transcriptions and erasures of history. Battles are won and then undone through time travel. We lose our lives and then regain them by traveling backwards and fighting again. We are winning the war by perpetuating the war. Last month, the Polonians attacked our earth, I am sure of it. The only evidence is our broken moon. I believe the general undid this attack with time travel and this has changed our reality, changed who was born, who ever lived in the first place. People are disappearing because they will have never existed.

People think we’re crazy for protesting. I’m 20 and my father is still 19. I’m not crazy. My mother Tahira is not crazy. We are angry.

Our next protest is scheduled this afternoon at the corner of Earl and Somerset by the Dog Park near the Ralphs.

Cecil: Not sure what Basimah was referring to. That’s an empty lot by the Ralphs. There was word for a dog park to be built there many years ago, but it never materialized.

[clears throat] Let’s have a look now at local news. Earth sciences professor Simone Rigideau announced today that she is scrapping all text books and lesson plans at the community college in favor of organized prayer to a god named Huntokar. Several students and parents argued against such an extreme divergence from core curriculum in favor of French religious practices, but college president Sarah Sultan supported her staff member by saying: “Cut Simone some slack. She doesn’t even teach classes. She’s a transient who lived in a storage closet inside the earth sciences building for 20 years. The only reason she has the title of professor is because of antiquated squatter’s rights laws.” Rigideau donned rabbit furs and an old bicycle frame wraught into the shape of antlers, and began spray paintin the Fibonacci sequence on the cars in the college parking lot, all the while singing a ballad about clocks.

The intergalactic military headquarters released their first quarter earnings statmenet this week. Investors were displeased to see that each of the board members of the privately own space defense contractor had purchased a 125-foot yachts and NFL franchises. But those fears were quickly allayed by the announcement of layoffs of more than 5,000 employees. Stock prices for the intergalactic military soared to an all time high this afternoon, at 490 dollars a share. Senior strategic advisor Jameson Archibald said the intergalactic military has no actual earned income. 100 per cent of their gross is from venture capital. Archibald said: “Some investors keep asking how we plan to monetize our military, which is a stupid question, man! I mean, look at this Patek Philippe watch I bought. It’s encrusted with 10 pounds of diamonds, and the watch face was made using an actual piece of the Sistine Chapel. We are doing fine.” Archibald added that the intergalactic military is developing an app and a subscription service that allows people to engage in celestial war fare any time they want for only 12,99 a month.

Alright, listeners, I heard back from Basimah, and she said I was right. There is no dog park. Of course I was right. If I knew there was a dog park being built in this town, I would have reported it immediately. Carlos and I have a dog. His name is Aubergine because he’s purple and European, and Auby is adorable and we love him dearly. I mean, I wasn’t into the idea of having to care for a dog, but Carlos strongly urged this case one morning over breakfast when he said, “I think we should get a dog”, and 20 minutes later, we were leaving the SPCA with our adopted pet. [clears throat]

Basimah said she was positive there was a dog park next to the Ralphs, but when she arrived at the corner of Earl and Somerset, it was all empty lots. To be honest, I don’t remember her mentioning a Ralphs before, because I would have corrected her. There’s never been a Ralphs affiliate in Night Vale. This is what Basimah had to say. Um, hang on, let me just insert the tape I used to record her. And there we go.

Basimah: If a person never exists, did they disappear? If you never knew them, can you miss them? My father spends most of his days playing basketball with friends he made at the rec center. He is 19 years old and trying to escape a decade of inescapable drama from warfare. Asked him who my mother was. I grew up with only my uncle Omar and did not know my parents until my father returned from war. Fakir did not remember my mother. He did not remember his marriage or my birth, because it has not happened yet in his timeline. Asked what if mother didn’t exist at all. What if the general’s time traveling has altered our lives so much that my mother was never born and you can never meet her. My father, the teenager said: “If I never met a woman, I do not know I will not miss her. But I’ll meet another woman.” I asked: “What if I was never born?” My dad said: “Basi?” He hid his tears and then he hugged me, but it was not the hug of a father and daughter. It was the hug of a son and mother. He buried his head into my shoulder and sobbed, repeating: “Basi! Basi!” And I comforted his heaving head with my palm. I said: “Father, Fakir. I think I shall no longer exist soon. [voice fades] I think I-

Oh OK, sorry for the dead air, listeners, I was playing a recording of an interview I did. Wait, nope. I just checked, there’s no tape in the player at all. I thought I had been talking with… Ugh. Aah! Who have I been talking to? Maybe it was my husband Carlos reporting on his findings about the damage done to our moon or, mh, or maybe it was nothing at all. [clears throat] Well, let us forget that we forgot, and go now To the weather.

[Shake” by Wednesday’s Wolves https://www.wednesdayswolves.com]

We have an update on the Blood Space War, Night Vale. John Peters says his brother has returned home again. When he left a month ago, James Peters was 22 years old. But he is now in his seventies, which is the age he should be. John held his brother tightly, crying in gratitude and relief that his own family could return to some kind of normalcy. James at first was heartened to see John again, to see his home again, and to learn that he and the general had thwarted the Polonian attack on our planet. But his tearful smile drifted slowly downward, an evening shadow overtaken by night. Upon James’ face now was the sudden knowledge that he had made a grave error. James looked around Night Vale seeing empty lots and homes, abandoned buildings and sparse streets. According to James, thousands of people have gone missing from Night Vale, because they never existed or never moved here in the first place. The general had leapt in time to successfully stop the Polonians from ever reaching Earth, but the change in the timeline caused Night Vale to change too.

Listeners, this may seem strange, but perhaps there are people you once knew, family you once lived with, places you were in, all of which are gone, and without your knowing. I have tried hard to think of any memory of any experience or person I have lost in the last month, but I can think of none. I told James Peters that perhaps the change in timeline did not matter if no one knew what they had lost, if no one noticed any change. James said: “Cecil, I just don’t know. I don’t know. Maybe if we had a scientific perspective on this, we could better understand how this is affecting us as a community.” And I said I didn’t know any scientists, not personally anyway. There’s the strange woman who lives in the storage closet at the community college, I suppose we could ask her.

The important thing is that we are safe, and that another veteran has returned home, and it is another beautiful day in Night Vale.

Stay tuned next for “Conspiring to Love”, our new relationship advice show, which as a lifelong bachelor sounds like something I should check out.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: “Nothing lasts forever” is a phrase with two meanings, and they’re both true.

#welcome to night vale #wtnv #welcome to night vale transcripts #episode 147 #the protester

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catboythanatos · 5 years

Text

hey yall this is a bit of a mess but hello! it is here! yeah remember when carlos astral projected into cecil's studio in "antiques"? we love that its one of my favourite episodes

Day 3: Away/Home

“Cecil…” a voice whispers.

Cecil gasps. The tear that had been forming in his eye splashes down onto his knee. He would know that voice anywhere.

“Carlos?”

Cecil looks out into the darkness. Nothing. He rubs his eyes with balled up fists. He opens his eyes. Nothing. No one is there. The room is still, the air stagnant. He hears the wind blowing outside. It is silent.

“You're hearing things, Cecil,” he tells himself. “Carlos isn't here. Carlos is… Well, not here.”

“I'm here!”

Cecil jumps again at the sound. It sounds so real. Almost as if it were right behind him. He goes to turn around, pausing to hang on to the suspense for a moment, to the idea that his missing boyfriend will be right behind him, surprising him with the greatest gift of all time: being home.

He turns, and Carlos is not there. Of course he's not. It's been months now and he hasn't been able to come home, and he doesn’t know when he will be able to. He's not here.

Cecil sighs. He stares into the empty corners of the room for a hopeful second, then he flops face down on the bed.

He hears the voice again.

“Cecil!”

It sounds to be right in front of him this time.

I must be going crazy, he thinks to himself. He berates himself for a moment for being all the things he denies being, selfish, codependent, useless… But he hears it again and it's definitely too real to all be in his head. Someone is doing this … if not Carlos, then who? Who would pretend to be Carlos? Is someone trying to mock him? Scare him? Too frustrated to deal with this, he doesn't even look up.

“Who are you?” he groans. “You can't be Carlos. He isn't here. Why do you taunt me with his voice? Well, whoever you are, I honestly don't care. Just leave me alone.”

“Cecil, hon--”

“Faceless Old Woman, are you doing this? It isn't funny. I'm sorry about reorganizing the shelf you organized. I didn't like it in reverse alphabetical order, it was hard to find things.”

A laugh. An adorable, perfect laugh. Cecil's heart melts, and he can't help but look.

Without his glasses on, it’s admittedly a little hard to verify the reality of the apparition before him, but it's…

“Carlos?”

“Cecil!” he exclaims. “You can see me?”

“I...I can see you, yes.” Cecil squints. Could Carlos really be here? Is this an illusion? “How…”

“I'm not really here. I'm still in the desert otherworld. But I think I've figured out how to exploit the breaks in reality to my advantage. Sometimes… this happens? Often I can see and hear into Night Vale, but it seems like no one can see or hear me… But you can see and hear me! So… Hi Cecil! This is pretty cool, right?”

Cecil sits up on the bed, staring at Carlos. “You…”

Carlos smiles at him.

Before Carlos can respond, Cecil is leaping from the bed, practically throwing himself at him. Carlos puts his arms out to receive him, nervous but still hopeful.

When Cecil's body passes through Carlos' like it's a cloud of haze, Carlos is disappointed, but not surprised. Cecil is very surprised.

“Cecil!”

He catches himself before he can fall over, and he turns to frown at Carlos.

“But…. you're right here. Why are you not… here?”

“I'm not here because… I'm not here. I'm kinda here, but not really here. To be honest, I'm unable to find a scientific explanation for this. Which, in a way, is exciting! There is so much research to be done here! My best guess would be that this world is a subsidiary universe of Night Vale in some way, making them connected somehow. There are several portals, like the dog park, and the house that does not exist. I don't know how I did this, though. There are certain spots which seem to be pocket portals, some of which take you entirely to Night Vale, and some just connect you to its audio or visual stream. It's taken me awhile to get to you. I was in someone's bathroom for a little while earlier, I'm not sure where. I don't know how long I'll be able to maintain this. So while you cannot hug me, you can still enjoy this small pocket of time that we are able to share together.”

Cecil reaches out, passing his hand through Carlos's arm. There is a soft sadness in his eyes.

“Here.” Carlos holds out his arm, placing his ghost hand tenderly inside of Cecil's. It almost looks like they're holding hands now, but neither can feel anything. He can see the texture of Carlos’ rich skin, but he cannot feel it. Cecil grasps at the air that is Carlos’ nonexistent hand, looking up at him with teary eyes.

“Hey, Ceec, it's gonna be okay. I'm here. Well, I'm-- You get the point.”

Cecil takes a short breath. There is no point in blubbering, he decides. He does not know how long Carlos will be able to speak to him for.

“I miss you…”

“You don’t have to miss me,” Carlos laughs. “I'm right here.”

Cecil does not laugh.

“Hey, hey… Don't make that face, bunny. What's wrong?”

“It’s… Nothing,” Cecil decides. “I've just missed you. It's been weird waking up without you, coming home from work without you. I know we call every single day, but… It's not the same as … feeling the warmth of your radiant presence.”

“Aww, I understand. But you don't need to cry, okay? Don't cry…”

“I'm not crying,” Cecil sniffles.

Carlos smiles. He mimes brushing the hair from Cecil's face, and Cecil finds himself giggling. He pushes his hair back out of his eyes.

“I think it might be time for a haircut, huh?”

Cecil leans in closer to Carlos. “Maybe, now that I've got someone to impress again.”

Carlos grins, leaning in even closer. Cecil studies every part of his beautiful face, not wanting to have to stop looking at it ever again. He is overcome with an overwhelming urge to kiss him. Carlos must feel the same, because he leans forward, just enough that his lips are touching Cecil's -- or would be, if he had a corporeal form. Cecil closes his eyes, and he can't feel anything. He wishes he could say that he felt something, but he didn't. There was no physical sensation. To anyone witnessing this, Carlos is here, kissing him, but… he isn't. With his eyes closed, Cecil feels totally alone.

Cecil opens his eyes again, and he meets Carlos’ gaze. It’s strange to be close enough together, but to not even feel Carlos’ breath on his lips. But he can feel his gaze on him, and see the twinkle of love in his eyes as he meets it. He studies every inch of his face. He normally doesn't get to look at Carlos from this close up. It's strange. And beautiful. Seeing that face so close to his …. despite the lack of touch, despite the lack of a real kiss, he feels warm and bubbly on the inside. It's intimate in a wholly different way. It's almost like a first kiss all over again.

Then Carlos starts to flicker.

“Carlos!”

“Cecil! I'm sorry! I don't know what's--”

Carlos disappears. He had been right there a millisecond ago, but now he's completely gone, without a single trace.

Then, he reappears. “C-Cecil, I can't control--”

And disappears again.

And reappears. “I'll call you!!”

Then Carlos blinks out of existence once more, and he is gone. Cecil frowns. He does not feel concern, knowing that Carlos is surely alive and well in his desert otherworld, but he feels sadness. He feels absence. He feels like a hole is boring into his heart.

Cecil takes a seat on the edge of his bed, sighing. He picks up his phone. There is a text from Carlos.

‘Hi baby!!!! I'm sorry I randomly appeared and then ceased to exist in your bedroom like that, I don't wanna scare you or anything. I'm ok!!! It was really really nice to see you in person again. I'll be hard at work to figure out how to do this again so I can visit, and also figuring out how you can come visit me! Love love love’

Cecil smiles. He takes a screenshot of the text. A small piece of duct tape over the hole in his heart.

‘I love you!’ he texts back.

The phone starts ringing, and he puts it to his ear.

“Did you get my text?”

“Yes, I responded to it.”

“Oh. I didn't see it. Hi, Cecil. I'm okay! It was cool to see you. And also, quite scientific! I'm very excited to get to personally investigate astral projection…”

Cecil listens to Carlos talk on, feeling bubbly with love for him. He may be far away from home, and Cecil may not get to be with him all the time, but he is still always here with him, in some way or another. Cecil smiles. He doesn't miss him, because he is right here.

#cecilosweek2019 #wtnv #cecilos #my writing #this is minimally proofread so bear w me lol #but its actually on time!!! its 11:50 in my timezone at the time of posting this lmaooo #welcome to night vale #what have i been tagging these as even lol

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weaverlings · 5 years

Note

18 for cecilos??

"things you said when you were scared"

hope you’re still around, anon. sorry this took like. over a week oops.

"mini" is relative, right? also this is maybe more anxious/overwhelmed than scared, as such. but it's soft. follow for more soft Cecilos etc

anyway I feel like I do… relatively a lot of "Carlos helps ground Cecil with science" but given the nature of Night Vale, and the two of them, I think there's a lot Cecil can do to help ground Carlos when he needs it. here's one example.

Something was wrong with the sky. No one could say what it was. No one could think what it was. But something was wrong with the sky.

Carlos had spent most of his day looking up at the sky, thinking about it. Thinking, something is wrong with this, over and over. They had brought the tallest ladder out of the lab to see if they could reach it, but it hadn't worked. There was no way for them to get up there to attach any sensors to it, to see if an objective scientific machine could give them the data their minds could not grasp.

But all they knew was what Cecil had reported, what they could all see, anyway. The sky had something wrong with it.

There were other things wrong. Carlos was waiting on news about a grant he had applied for, to get the lab some new Erlenmeyer flasks with matching cozies. There was some minor drama at the lab; Stan had cooked one of Luisa's potatoes, and Carlos had to play mediator, but he was not a mediator, he was a scientist. Also, he had dropped the toothpaste cap into the drain that morning, which just meant that they would need to get new toothpaste. It was a scientific fact that the toothpaste would soon become unmanageably gunky, a waste of an almost new tube.

Carlos wasn't thinking about any of these things. Carlos was spending his evening still thinking about the sky, which had started out as an intriguing distraction, and become a literally inescapable source of frustration. It was just up there. It was always up there, and he couldn't do anything about it. It was like he could feel it against his skin, cold and wet and denying him safe levels of oxygen.

Of course, he knew it wasn't really the sky. He knew exactly what it was, and he wrote out half-strings of numbers, or three-fourths. He got through it once, but just. Just, he needed to figure this out.

Something was wrong with the sky, but what? And what did this mean for those underneath it, for all of Night Vale, who had no place to live but beneath the sky? Cecil had been so calm about it, earlier, but even over the course of the weather, Carlos had not found the problem, much less its source or solution. They could have been in terrible danger. They were in terrible danger. He knew the world was dangerous. He was a scientist. But maybe now that danger was from a specific source that he could not identify.

Carlos did not hear the office door open.

"Hi, hunbun!" Cecil dropped a plastic bag onto the desk. He hadn't stopped to put it down before coming to find Carlos in his office.

"Hey."

Carlos nudged the bag aside, and did not say anything. He was happy that Cecil was there, but this happiness did not exist on its own, and each thing he felt tried to push its way through his throat at once - there was so much he wanted to say that none of it had the space to get out. And then, he was happy Cecil was there, but less happy about the thing in his workspace suddenly, which Cecil had put there and so he was also a tiny bit annoyed with Cecil now.

Working this out did not make him feel better. He should have been more grateful for the - he glanced down at the bag. Blocky, red packaging was outlined through the thin plastic. He should have been grateful for the toothpaste.

Cecil rested a hand on Carlos' head. Carlos experienced touch; for a moment, just touch, divorced from context, and he flinched and ducked away. Then context caught up with him, and he remembered who had touched him, and he mumbled, "Sorry," into his thumb, with his hand wrapped over his chin.

"It's okay. Well," Cecil took the bag off the desk, and hung it around his wrist. "Is it okay?"

Carlos did not need a reason to not want to be touched. He had figured this out on his own, contrary to what most people had told him. Cecil was one of the few people who independently supported that conclusion. Carlos could be okay, and also not want to be touched. Cecil knew that, and so Carlos could be honest with his boyfriend.

"Mmm."

"So, that's a 'no.' Got it."

"Mhm."

"Do you need me to get you something to eat?"

"Mm-mm."

"Want to go lie down?"

Carlos looked down at his desk, and the rest of his notes. The word 'atmosphere' with a heart around it. And then, just 'atmosphere?' Detailed sketches of cirrostratus, nimbostratus, and altostratus that he had drawn under his own hunched form and scribbled over so none of the cameras would see. He hadn't quite been able to leave his work at the lab today. He flipped the notebook shut, and nodded.

Cecil dropped the toothpaste off in the bathroom. Carlos had stretched out in an almost platonic ideal of lying down, on his back with his fingers threaded over his chest and his hair waving over the pillow. Cecil sat down on the edge of his side, twisting to face Carlos, but with his hand plucking at the covers.

"Okay, so. What's up?"

"The sky."

Cecil laughed, bemused, but Carlos shook his head.

"No, it wasn't a scientifically accurate joke. That's what's bothering me."

"Oh. Oh! Sorry." Cecil laughed again, nervously, wincing as he did. "So… what about the sky?"

"I don't know! I couldn't figure it out today. It doesn't make any kind of scientific sense."

"Ah. Hm." Cecil examined the ceiling as a substitute. "Does the sky ever make sense?"

Carlos bit his lip. "Sometimes, it does. And, it's true, other times it does not. That is science. But usually, it is also science to be able to explain why it doesn't make sense. That's what science is about - explaining things. So I should at least be able to say, oh, right, it doesn't make sense today because it is a clear, plain expanse of blue when the shades of the sky report said it would be goldenrod."

"But today, it looks right, except…" Cecil lowered his voice. "We all know it isn't."

Cecil spoke with finality, and although Carlos could not see the sky, he felt it above them. "It doesn't make sense, Cecil! It does not, and I tried all day to make sense from it, but… but I just… I don't know. I can't explain it, and explaining things is what a scientist does. I'm supposed to be able to explain it, and I can't. And I hate that - feeling unable. I hate feeling unable. I hate it. No one likes it, so maybe harping about it is selfish. I'm sorry if it's selfish. But."

Cecil waited for Carlos to go on, and when he didn't, said, "Hey. It's okay."

"No! No, it's not! There is no scientific way for this to be okay! It isn't- I mean, it just doesn't-"

"I know," Cecil said softly. "You explained the science behind it very well, so… even a layperson like me can understand. But I was thinking. Wondering. Maybe there can be other ways?"

"Like what?"

"Personal ways? Like… we don't have to look at the sky right now. Or think about it. I won't bring it up again, and we can keep the curtains closed for tonight."

"It isn't going to stop… being there."

"No, but neither are we going to stop being here. We can stay here. Wait it out."

"Mmm. I guess. I guess there isn't much else we can do."

"I guess not." Cecil swung his legs onto the bed. "Hey, you. C'mere?"

Carlos rolled over onto his side. Cecil did not try to hold him, only took his hand and twined their fingers together. Carlos squeezed back.

"I don't know what the science of it would be, or if there's science to it at all. I don't know what will happen, what will come next. But I know this now. I know you, and I love you. I love you even when you are unable. You're right, everyone feels that way sometimes, so of course, of course you aren't selfish to be upset by that. And I love you even when you are upset. There is not one thing I would change about you, Carlos, and that is what makes you perfect to me. And… no, I mean. I'm not an expert, but I don't think that's very scientific. But it's true, anyway. You know that, right?"

"Yeah. I know."

"So… maybe there are other things that are true in different ways? Like: it's okay. Right now, it's okay."

Carlos reclaimed his hand, but it was so he could roll over and line his back up against Cecil's chest. Now, Cecil put an arm around him, and then took Carlos' hand again palm-to-knuckles.

"Ceec?"

"Yes?"

"Keep talking. Please. Keep talking."

"Okay."

Cecil spoke quietly, abstractly, words about but not quite forming images. Hypothetical patterns that wove into a story, and in that story everyone was safe and everything was calm. It was beautiful and impossible and Carlos knew that, knew that it was just a story. But when Cecil told it, Carlos felt it in his chest, unfolding from the spot just under his ribs where their joined hands rested. Safety like blood in his veins and calm like air in his lungs.

Cecil's words went straight from mind to body. It was - not something Carlos had been missing his whole life, not really; it was something he could have lived without. But he didn't have to. Maybe not everything could be scientifically explained, and maybe they could not be safe. But Carlos had this, these words and the love in them, and the love he felt for this mindful speaker.

So, maybe Cecil was right. It was okay.

#welcome to night vale #cecilos #my fanfic #Anonymous

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wtnvwritings · 5 years

Text

Submitted by Anonymous: So you mentioned an unhinged siren being absolutely terrifying. The thought came around with an ask talking about strexcorp ‘disposing of’ Kevin’s mate (but actually being in night Vale he just didn’t know it immediately) buuuuut? What if his mate came back to Desert Bluffs during the middle of his rampage? Prooving that A. They were alive and B. He can calm down now!

He had to have heard wrong. No, silly Lauren, she was mixing up her reports again! There was no way that Strexcorp would dare try such a thing? Of course not!

His denial was met with Lauren’s ever overbearing smile. Reminding him how much more productive he can be for the company now that the 'little bother’ was gone.

She didn’t say that? No no she didn’t that would be incredibly dumb of her to even think of saying such a thing about his mate.

Kevin’s smile almost dropped. Only held up by the scaring in his cheeks.

“Lauren, thing long and hard about your next words~” his voice was oddly enough equivalent of a sing song tone. Calm. Collected. Yet filled with a malevolent power just lurking behind his voice. Anyone in the vicinity had stopped moving. Stopped talking. Holding their breath, without knowing why. Only knowing that something was wrong.

“Kevin-” Lauren, poor Lauren, she didn’t know what to say how to say it or to alert for station management to come down just in case. She wasn’t dumb she knew, everyone knew what Kevin was. A siren molded to be perfect for their needs and she was left to ensure that he remained that way as he worked. Normally she would have no doubts but now?

For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt her insides churning. Lauren was afraid. “-Your… Mate, has been… removed from Strexcorp due to their presence stalling your and various other employees productivity. They were nice yes but regardless, they were… In the way of the greater pictu-"

Kevin had stood up at some point but Lauren didn’t know when that was. He was looming over her, hand pressed to the wall next to her face and his one free hand gripping her forearm to keep her in place. It was quiet. Kevin wasn’t smiling anymore. No one in the radio studio was. They were afraid.

Cecil meanwhile, in night Vale was running around the radio studio in a frantic manner. His morning was going great! Carlos had time to go with him up to the station and they shared some coffee as he helped Cecil with a particularly science based report. The music for the weather had been a rather catcher tune he couldn’t help but dance to as well! It was so far a good morning!

Until a painfully familiar face walked in. Some minor scratches some small bruising that Carlos could look over while Cecil’s assistant got an ice pack or two.

None of them could understand why Cecil was so hyper at the moment. Dashing about mumbling to himself on how to get Kevin’s mate back home. He absolutely had to. Kevin was like him, a siren and a siren separated from their mate, forcefully no less! Would only lead to disaster and ruin.

Cecil wasn’t fond of Desert Bluffs sure but the unbridled force of a siren could go past Desert Bluffs. Kevin would either destroy anything and everything to find his mate or die trying.

Thankfully Carlos and Dana managed to find a semi stable door while Cecil with his assistants help, told Kevin’s mate how they can try and calm him. He believes them dead he won’t realize it’s them at first, such and so forth.

And they are right. Kevin doesn’t even realize that his mate is there for a good few moments alone which gives them enough time to look at him. And begin to realize why Cecil was so worried.

Around him is an absolute carnage. Most likely strexcorp enforcement that was sent out to stop him, now lay in pieces around him. The glass in the buildings around him broken and the few on the streets frozen in place, huddled as they watch with horror in their eyes.

The radio station building is all but painted red. The sun that’s slowly setting leaving a yellow and red glow akin to fire among those that Kevin is now standing in front of. He’s breathing deeply as if he’s been physically in pain but continuing to push though not a single scratch on his… Form… Can be seen.

His voice however, has obviously been strained. That doesn’t stop the raw energy and power that seems to flow from him. The unbridled rage you feel coming off of him In waves. How quickly he was to turn against the moment he thought you were gone.

But now he turns slowly to you Without letting out a breath. You can’t properly say what color his eyes are. Or the energy that seems to flow from him. All you can label on him is that he is bigger. Far bigger and looming in such a manor that you can see the outline of even the station management quiver in fear.

And he is in front of you. When did he move? When did everyone stop talking stop breathing why… Is it so quiet? How has he demanded absolute silence without a word spoken?

You feel what you guess is this forms equivalent of a hand gently graze your cheek. Unsure and gentle as if you were made of the most precious jewel. A deep rumbling sounds in the back of his throat as he looms over you, the action causing others fear only comforting to you. His voice can’t harm you though. Maybe that’s why?

He circles around you though his movements are hard to track without your brain forcing your eyes to blink and look away for a moment. You can still feel him. A light touch against your arms or shoulders or side, checking to see if you are truly okay. He settles on the bruises and scratches though. A surprisingly soft cooing noise rises from him when you flinch. Trying to comfort you.

He leans down to you, with intention to hold onto you and you have to close your eyes. Nothing about him hurts you but your own mind knows that it’s not supposed to see such a creature for so long is all. Your eyes have to close but you feel him wrap his inhumanly long arms around you, holding you tightly to him. Refusing to let go, soon enough you feel a familiar weight and warmth as he changes back to the form you know best.

Covered in blood obviously and smiling wider than ever, pulling back just enough to watch you for almost a solid minute. Taking one of your hands and placing it on his cheek for him to nuzzle into with a deep sigh. The silence once in the air ever lighter to you, while growing far more crushing to every other living creature within the vicinity.

He nods towards your shared home. Silently asking you to go wait for him. You don’t know why but your pulling away and briskly headed off towards your home. Your thoughts telling you to go and plug in earbuds, headphones, anything with music to block out the noises to come. The soon to be screams and cries among the sirens song.

He is far from done there and you know it. Once he comes home though your positive that you won’t be out of his arms for a very long time.

Your not complaining, are you?

#wtnv #welcome to night vale #long post #imagine #kevin imagine #open mic #open mic imagine #kevin open mic #i!!! love!!! this!!!#oh my god this was a nice as hell read #BIG ANGRY KEVIN I AM HERE FOR THIS SHIT #literally going to rip apart db for his mate #submission

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canaliculi · 7 years

Text

Radio Star

Welcome to Night Vale

Station Management/Cecil Palmer; mentioned pre-Carlos/Cecil Palmer

NC-17: dub con, aphrodisiacs, broadcast molestations, tentacle sex (all implied), + solo, voyeurism, Carlos being a sappy baby.

It’s Listener Appreciation Week at Night Vale Community Radio - a historically perilous time for broadcasters. Particularly so when fans aren’t careful with their postage.

The surprise and unneeded companion fic, where we see just how appreciative one listener is.

Carlos didn’t listen to the radio anymore.

…Really!

Okay, okay, correction: Carlos shouldn’t listen to the radio anymore. And, he at least didn’t listen to the radio when anyone else was around.

There were quite a few factors that had led to this decision. He was the head of his scientific outcropping, for one thing. The leader his fellows looked to for guidance. It simply wouldn’t do for them to see him reeling at Cecil’s blithe and otherworldly announcements.

Packs of roaming dogs – possibly anarchist and almost certainly the product of a society that glorifies gang violence.

Glow clouds that drop heavy animal carcasses onto the streets and then join the PTA.

Pyramids that are nothing more than viral advertising, not that that has ever worked. Oh, but that actually reminded him, he was out of cereal, wasn’t he?

All of this and so much more, so much worse came falling out of Cecil’s mouth like he was reporting on a vaguely interesting pile of rocks collected by a local fifth grader. Cecil’s mouth. The radio host greeted him with the biggest grin every time they met. Like he was excited to find Carlos still existed, thrilled that the particular array of molecules and atoms and weird in-between fluids that constituted Carlos had remained in his absence. Cecil would remember himself, eventually; would cough or look away. Sometimes he would bite his lip to aid in chasing away his smile.

And Cecil was so tongue tied around him. It was charming, or it would have been charming, except that speechlessness in Night Vale seemed to be catching and contagious, as Carlos was often struck by the same. Directly after every blurted neat - which was more often than not but not as often as one might think – Cecil’s mouth would pull down into a devastated pout. When Carlos managed to string more than five words together, which generally turned into five paragraphs of science, Cecil’s mouth would hang open, just slightly, his eyes big and wide and totally enraptured and totally uncomprehending.

Carlos sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It still hadn’t grown out, but his haircut had just been a couple weeks ago.

Which brought him to the second factor in his decision to not listen to the radio. When all was said and done, it wasn’t, strictly speaking, surprising to hear an inflammatory and incendiary editorial from a newscaster. The… topic was unusual (and made Carlos pretty embarrassed if he thought about it for too long), but people made mountains (they’re real, Cecil) out of what Carlos considered anthills at best, all the time.

But those editorials rarely prompted full blown vigilante justice. Or at least, those editorials usually took longer before their words could seep into a population and cause it to explode outwards in violence. It had taken Cecil, like, twenty minutes, tops, to convince a town to turn on one of its own. Even a few of his small band of scientists had been taken in the sudden, violent tide. Over a haircut! When they’d gotten back, Carlos had questioned them thoroughly and scientifically, and very calmly, using scientific methods. He had not grabbed at the unevenly shorn locks of his hair in an outward display of unmanageable stress and confusion.

The shared look they had pinned him with meant something like what the hell are you talking about? And then they had said, “What the hell are you talking about?”

So, that was a little, uh.

It was-

It was definitely not good.

A later, admittedly calmer and more thorough examination of the three wayward scientists hadn’t revealed any lasting damage or abnormalities. No busted or bleeding eardrums, no apparent trigger words (they tried barber and Telly and hair cut and, to Carlos’ everlasting chagrin, Perfect Carlos) – all of which revealed nothing worse than a splitting headache and an overwhelming desire to get a slice at Big Rico’s. Oh, and Mikaela got a sunburn, which she used to request sick leave for the rest of the week. Carlos couldn’t fault her there.

Overall, they were about as close as any of them felt to normal here in Night Vale.

“…one of you out there has been using writing utensils…” the radio said, as if in dramatic emphasis of his point. Well, technically the radio did not say this, Cecil said it. In his deep and resonant voice, tone ominous and dire, dropping into a lower register as he drawled out the words writing utensils, unfurling and sinister. It drew a small shudder down his spine, his flesh pinching up into pricks of gooseflesh, and somehow, Carlos both coveted and dreaded being the target of that sentence.

Uh, that is to say, Scientifically Speaking, Cecil was a talented orator.

And used this talent for really terrible things. Carlos frowned at his dashboard, the dated knobs and tick-marked horizontal-line display of the radio, feeling the spark of Cecil’s words trying to catch in his brain. The dried out hay stack of paranoia, ready and eager to distrust those around him, particularly, as Cecil pointed out, those who knew his most incriminating secrets.

Turn on them now, Cecil didn’t have to say, before they turn on you.

His hands gripped the steering wheel tight, knuckles going pallid where the dark skin of his hands was a thin stretch over the bulging ridges of his joints. With the slippery ease of oil spilling across water’s surface, Cecil changed direction, and led them directly to Factor Three of Carlos’ Decision to Listen to the Radio Never, or Okay, Maybe Sometimes but Only Privately. Whichever.

“Just the other day, I was talking to Carlos - perfect Carlos - our resident scientist whose hair, I must say, is growing back quite nicely.”

Perfect Carlos, said with the distinct impression that Cecil was swooning, stricken with love, and Carlos shifted in his seat, embarrassed even by himself. Embarrassing, and yet, enjoyable, in a way that somehow made Carlos feel distinctly that he was taking advantage of Cecil. The scientist couldn’t explain it, to himself or to anyone else, except that maybe it was some undefined sense of guilt. He knew he wasn’t perfect, after all; whoever Cecil thought he was, whoever it was Cecil was truly gushing about on the air waves, it wasn’t Carlos. To take enjoyment in his proclamations, then, was wrong.

Now, whether this wrongness was accepted by his body or not, well, he couldn’t control that. The hot curl of warmth in his chest, his stomach, the goofy grin. The fluttering, almost giddy feeling-

“I mean, it’s kind of at that in-between stage, where you know someone has gotten a haircut, and it’s sort of growing out, but you can tell they don’t really know how to style it yet – Listeners, I’m not usually one for the scruffy, unkempt look, but Carlos the scientist wears it well!”

Uh, was his hair that bad? Cecil had said it was growing out, right? Carlos fiddled unconsciously, or perhaps self-consciously with the soft, curling ends of his hair, wondering how he could fix it. Since the red light he’d been sitting at for the past few minutes wasn’t showing signs of changing anytime soon, Carlos yanked the rearview mirror out of place, startling at the glimpse of something, rotting and ghastly in his backseat, but focusing mostly on examining himself, wondering if there was something he should be doing differently with his hair.

He ran a hand through it. He shook out the front, tried out smoothing down the sides. It always seemed to bounce back to the same configuration, dark and messy. Unkempt. Maybe he should slick it back? The idea of another hair cut – just a trim this time! – flitted uselessly through his mind, and Carlos was almost offended the thought had existed in the first place. There was no way, after the Telly Incident, that he was going to get his hair cut.

At least, not before he had a serious conversation with Cecil. So, probably never.

The loud, ear-piercing shriek of a diving bird of prey broke him out of his thoughts. The light had turned green, and an SSP officer cleverly disguised as a Slow Children: Are the First to Go sign was shaking their balaclava-clad head at him, holding a megaphone in one spray painted hand. The officer lifted the megaphone to their mouth again, and the shriek erupted from its cone shaped end once more, prompting Carlos to wince and clap his hands over his ears.

“All right, all right, I’m going!” he replied.

He worked his jaw up and down, trying to dislodge the stubborn ringing the officer’s polite notice had brought about in his ears. His actions weren’t particularly effective. He turned up the radio instead, hoping he could at least drown out the high, sharply-pitched whine that was almost certainly a sign of late-in-life tinnitus.

“…is happening currently in the station,” Cecil was saying. Carlos frowned, curious, as there was a thick, heavy pause and then a quiet intake of breath. “N-Noooope. Nothing like that at all.”

Huh. That was weird.

It was probably nothing.

Well, no, it was probably something, but it was probably something Cecil could handle. Whatever it was.

“In actual news, Old Woman Josie reports that the inhumanly tall, winged creatures who are definitely not angels, and who all go by the name Erika, have been having some, uh-” Now that was unusual. Cecil stalled for words so infrequently (on air, at least) that any slip up counted as statistically significant. “Sooooome issues with the water heater. She didn’t expand, or tell us why she thought this was news worthy, but, there you go!

“Personally, I don’t see why she needs hot water,” Cecil continued, and now Carlos was really paying attention, because his voice had lost its normal composure. Strained and tight, like he was holding himself back from something. He was still mulling this over when low groan came out over the radio, the sound shooting through his body like an electrical current, heading straight down to his-

Oh boy.

Distraction, he needed a distraction now. What had Cecil been reporting on? Old Woman Josie’s angels? No, something to do with her water heater. But it would give him an excuse to go over there, and maybe sneak a closer peak at her angels anyway. Focus on the science, not on the breathy – was he panting now, Jesus, Cecil – voice that delivered the news. He had a goal now, an idea of what was going on in town; the reason he listened to Cecil’s show, as Carlos told himself. He could – he should – just turn the radio off right now-

“Oh, yes, do keep going,” Cecil purred, an expression Carlos had never heard encapsulated so fully, and it was followed up by a wet, choked gasp. Yeah, it would probably be for the best to keep this on. “With the, uh, news! Of course. The news.” How Cecil made that phrase sound so dirty, it should have been illegal. Was it illegal? Did this count as some sort of public indecency?

Cecil continued on with his report, voice deep and rough and making it very difficult to concentrate properly on the content of his speech. He was talking about something, and Carlos, through the application of logic and critical thinking, could conclude for himself that that something was, well, somewhere. Existing? He was thankful there weren’t many other drivers out on the road. The rest of Night Vale was probably busy listening to Cecil’s broadcast as well.

Carlos dug his nails into the faux-leather finish of his steering wheel, gritting his teeth. There was a sharp, angry thrashing in the pit of his stomach that caused Carlos a brief moment of panic before he recognized it for an emotion and not, say, a grotesquely huge parasite about to erupt through his skin and viscera. Though even that might be preferable to the admission that he was feeling a bit possessive of the radio host currently giving a breathless report concerning the secret police dropping canisters of tear gas onto reporters. Just the thought of that, and its possible ramifications – freedom of press, at least! – should have doused his arousal, but to his shame, it really didn’t.

Well, it did a little, but then his mind helpfully crafted a scenario in which he was in the booth with Cecil, biting and suckling at the other’s smooth flesh, licking long, slow stripes over heated skin while Cecil trembled above him, fingers tangled in the perfect hair he so loved to extrapolate upon and body squirming, pinioned in place by Carlos’ hands on his hips while Cecil forced himself to concentrate, to finish the news segment and get to the weather, wherein he would-

No, no, that wasn’t helping things, thanks though.

One his hands had even drifted down to his lap, palming at himself through the rough denim of his jeans. It was testament to how badly Carlos was affected that he allowed himself a moment, enjoying the little tingles of electricity flaring through his body, rolling his hips against his own hand. And god, Cecil was not helping matters, releasing a noise on air that was nothing but tortured consonants and then a high-pitched, thready whine that had Carlos longing to be in that sound booth with the radio host, so that he could give Cecil what he so desperately needed.

Not, uh, not that he knew what Cecil needed. Though with the way the radio host said his name, Carlos thought he had a pretty good idea of how he could help Cecil.

“…About the station? About how it was definitely not the site of strange, or unexpected, o-or slick and, uh, distracting events?” Cecil was saying. Carlos had managed to wrest control of his hands and had them both firmly planted on the steering wheel once again. The few coherent thoughts he had were dedicated to wondering if he had accidentally turned onto one of the spatial-loop streets again, because he was pretty sure he should have reached the used car lot by now. “Well, that was-”

Cecil cut out again, and Carlos grit his teeth so hard he could hear the tension sizzling in his ears and above that white noise sound was nothing but Cecil’s muffled groaning, and slick, wet sounds, like flesh sliding on flesh, little strangled gulps set to an uneven, irregular beat, like something was hitting the back of Cecil’s throat repeatedly and wow, Carlos was going to crash his damn car if this kept going. In the back of his mind, it occurred to him that he should probably be worried about what was happening at the radio station.

There was a wet pop and then coughing, and then wet, ragged breathing. His mind, unbidden, provided him a wonderful image of Cecil on his knees, Carlos’ hand buried in his hair and dragging him off his aching cock. Pop, just like that, when those talented lips slipped off the head of his dick.

“Uhhh… Where was I?” Cecil sounded utterly disoriented, dreamy and languid even as his voice came out thick and gravelly, like the deep, sonorous sliding of tectonic plates. “Oh! Yes! The… station. Everything is great, here! Here, at the station. Yup.” Okay, Cecil didn’t sound believable there at all. But he had interns, right? Night Vale wouldn’t actually let something bad happen to their beloved radio host.

Right?

Carlos drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He pulled his car over, just to get a better idea of where he even was, not to prepare to turn around and head to the radio station. If something was happening there, maybe it would turn out to be scientifically interesting. Definitely worth looking into. The angels could wait, Carlos reasoned. And for how helpful they seemed to be around Old Woman Josie’s house, they could be considered withholding when it came to indulging scientific curiosity.

“…everyone’s favorite scientist, Carlos! Isn’t that… something!” Carlos sucked in a sharp, trembling breath, because whatever he had expected out of today, it had definitely not been Cecil saying his name like that, his voice so dark and rough. Like Cecil was right there with him, was seconds away from pouncing on him with predatory intent. “He’s heading over there right now, to do some sort of science, I would imagine! And all without the use of writing utensils, Steve Carlsburg.”

It was absolutely a problem when even Cecil’s aggressive, Steve-Carlsburg-induced annoyance did little to dampen Carlos’ arousal. Though he wasn’t super keen on hearing Cecil say anyone else’s name at just this second. And Cecil just sighed, sweet and wistful.

“Apparently, Old Woman Josie – or perhaps her tall friends, who are totally not angels, you guys – or perhaps just her faulty water heater, have become the subject of Carlos’ scientific inquiry.” There it was again, Cecil’s voice dipping into those lower registers, the words spilling from his lips like thick black ink. It sent a shudder down Carlos’ spine.

“Can you even imagine?” Cecil was breathless.

“Being the subject of such focused, intense scrutiny?” Oh. Yes, Carlos could suddenly imagine that. Imagine Cecil-

“Helping out both science as an over-arching ideal, and a beloved member of our small community?” That, somehow, finally, was the last straw, Cecil saying it like he was in process of dragging Carlos down a dark hall, like they were already tumbling into sheets together, like Cecil was lying spread in wait and ready for Carlos to pull him to pieces.

Carlos fumbled with his belt and unbuttoned his jeans, yanking himself out with almost too much forth and trembling as his fevered skin was exposed to the artificially cooled air of his car. His car, god, he was in his car, but he really didn’t care. He fisted himself, hips bucking, feet scrambling to plant anywhere on the flooring that wouldn’t result in the engine revving to life. The last sane part of his mind was reminding him that he really shouldn’t be doing this - the consequences for law-breaking in Night Vale were often vaguely sinister or sinisterly specific, and while he didn’t remember which one Public Indecency fell under, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

There didn’t seem to be room for anything in his body but bright, flaring need. It was a heat that sparked along every inch of nerve, root and ending alike. A heat that made his toes curl and his chest ache and pooled low in his gut while his heart beat became rapid and erratic. And all he could hear was Cecil, his quiet panting and bitten back whines, voice rumbling and grating and deep. Cecil, saying his name. Carlos, he would say, sighing and longing and full of too much, so many emotions Carlos couldn’t name them all, oh, perfect, yes-

And as perfect as the image was, of Cecil lost in pleasure beneath him, a pliant and eager thing, an inscrutable piece of Night Vale itself subject to rigorous scientific inquiry as Cecil would say. As wonderful as all that undeniably was, Carlos’ body jerked and stuttered and he came into his own palm thinking of Cecil on any other day. His face lighting up – sometimes literally – at the sight of Carlos, how Cecil acted like nothing of note existed outside of the space Carlos immediately existed within. How Cecil had once spent literal hours listening to Carlos ramble about science and though Carlos would eat his own shoe if Cecil had retained more than a sentence’s worth of information from it, the radio host’s attention had never drifted, his eyes never glazed over; Cecil had never tuned out the boring, stuttering scientist who got too enthusiastic about possibly-non-existent earthquakes.

Hell, Carlos even thought of that annoying way Cecil had of condescending to him, when something ridiculous and outrageous and against all laws of reason and science happened, something that was just so completely Night Vale happened, like Carlos was the outlandish one, not this insane town.

Most of all, though, he just thought of Cecil, strange and sweet and intimidating and utterly smitten. Of the terror of instantly and how the disappointment he’d expected to follow such a proclamation had never come.

The weather report was drawing to a close as Carlos slumped bonelessly in his seat. When his heart stopped thudding so loudly in his ears and his breathing rate had returned to its typical 16 breaths a minute, Carlos began to move again. Cecil came back on, sounding for all the world like the past 30 minutes of broadcast hadn’t occurred. Well, except for him referencing it? Carlos guessed? He still wasn’t sure what was going on, but Cecil sounded like himself again, if vaguely annoyed and disappointed.

“Remember, Night Vale, every mistake you make, every minor indiscretion you commit, carries unspeakable – and, I might remind you – completely avoidable consequences.” Carlos shuddered, unpleasantly this time. “Stay tuned next for the quiet, vigorous sounds of lemon scent scrubbing, and deep, unflinching feeling that you will never truly be clean again.”

For once, as Carlos stared at his white-splattered hand, he thought he knew exactly what Cecil meant.

“Good night, Night Vale. Good night.”

#cecilos #f!tag: WTNV #status!tag: complete

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deadlyeggs · 7 years

Text

A Strange Town

This is a crossover fanfiction of King Falls AM (Credit goes to: Kyle Brown & Eric Kimelton) and Welcome To Night Vale (Credit goes to: Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor. ) Please check out the podcasts, if you haven’t already.

When an odd, cloudless storm hits both both towns, something happens to cause a connection between radio broadcasts.

Chapter 1 (Edited)

Ben finished whipping down the phones something that had become part of the routine before he and Sammy started the show. Since Chet had the slot right before theirs he didn’t want to even think about the gross and creepy things he had done with them, and most likely was still doing with them. He shuttered at the imagine, and tried to block out everything else he might have done in there just moments before him and Sammy were supposed to go on the air.

“All clean?” Sammy asked as he sat at his desk, a warm cup of coffee in his hand.

“Probably not” Ben replied, crumpling up the disinfectant rag and dropping it in the trash “I don’t think this will ever be clean enough, even if you poured bleach everywhere. These walls know things nobody should know. And god knows what he’s done elsewhere in here!” He gestured to the mug in Sammys hand.

“Okay” Sammy said slowly lowering the mug away from his mouth “I’m bringing my own mug from now on. To and from work.” He gave his friend a look of displeasure, watching him sit down. With a nod to each other they started the show.

“Hello King Falls, thank you for tuning in. I am Sammy Stevens, and with my is my best friend, and co-host Ben Arnold.” Sammy greeted the listening audience “as I’m sure most of you know, we are due for one hell of a storm. Be sure to stay safe, and away from windows. Keep tuned in to 660 on the radio dial.”

“And please” Ben chimed in “stay indoors. I know this goes without saying, for most people anyway, but no matter what your reasoning is once this bad boy starts, you do not want to get caught in it.”

“Yes, that too” Sammy agreed “I just hope it doesn't hit before we are done for the night. I do not want to be trapped here when it hits. If it hits.”

“What do you mean IF it hits, Sammy” Ben said “its bound to happen, everything points to it. Not to mention, I got a sever weather alert on my phone.”

Sammy sighed “you know how wrong that can be sometimes” he said.

“Yes, but, usually when there is a red screen staring you in the face, that means something is coming.”

“I never said it wasn’t coming. I know its fairly likely that it will, I’m just saying that there is a possibility that it might not. You can never really know what mother nature is going to pull. That being said...”

There was a loud rumbling sound in the distance. A soft trickle of rain began to fall, that soon became heavier and heavier. While the two hosts sat in the studio rain fell from the stars. Not a cloud in the sky, and yet it still poured. Neither of them aware.

“That being said” Sammy continued over the sound of the rain “it’s always better safe than sorry.”

“So King Falls, how are you preparing for the storm, while Sammy and I are stuck all the way out here. Give us a call 424-279-3858.”

A bright flash of light filled the room, and in sync with the thunder both Sammy and Ben took off their head set and looked at each other.

“Did you hear that sizzling sound” Ben asked.

“I hope nothing was knocked out. Can you still hear us King Falls?”

Far off from King Falls, another radio host sat in his studio ad thunder roared over head of him. Rain splattered down onto the dry desert landscape as people looked out their windows, and up the the cloudless sky.

“Now this is where it gets really interesting” Cecil rambled on “when you rub the balloon against your body it starts to scream in terror. It doesn’t know what you are doing, or why you are doing it. Why would you do that to a poor innocent balloon in the first place, what did they ever do to you? Even if you did tell it your plans, it wouldn't understand. You’re just being mean. Stop it. This concludes out children's fun-fact science corner.”

Cecil looked to the intern who walked into the room handing him a piece of paper “oh, thank you Heather” he said polity. He looked over the page “well listeners” he began “it appears that our newest intern Heather has handed me an important announcement. At least I can assume it’s important, it has large red letters I M P O R T A N T, and a little stick person frowning as its struck by lightning. That’s adorable, you can really see the pain, fear, and shock on his face. Did you draw that Heather? She’s shaking her head at me, and pointing to the page. Alright. Although the sky is clear, it appears to be raining and pretty hard. You are all asked to stay inside during this time.”

Within seconds he passed if off like it was nothing “so anyways. Carlos and I are trying to decide on a new way to rearrange our appartment. We keep going back and forth, and where our coffee table should be, or where to keep the collection of blood stones I have from my childhood, It’s just a mess, let me tell you. He wants to put his white board full of numbers he keeps changing in the kitchen. I say that will totally throw off everything, but he does have a point when he says it matches the refrigerate both of them have that off white color to them.”

A loud crack of thunder roared through town, and almost instantly there was a sizzling sound coming from his headset.

“Hello” he asked slowly “can you still hear me out there, I’m having some technical difficulties.”

“Hello Ben asked slowly “who is this, and how did you get into our signal. Did you hack us or something? You picked a pretty shitty night to do it.”

“Hack you” Cecil repeated “no, I don’t think I even know how. “

“Oh yeah” Ben scoffed “because its so hard to hack radio signals, as if it hasn't been done before. Look man, if you’re going to say some weird shit, freak out some people hurry up and get it over with.”

“I’m- I just report the news” Cecil explained “news, community calendar, daily events. You know, like the slowly approaching void, that will one day consume us all in never ending darkness. They say you never know when it’s going to happen but when it happens you bet I’ll be here.”

“Uh. What. What kind of news is that?”

“Didn’t you have a void scare a few days ago?”

“No.Because chances are it’s not going to happen and if it does it wont be in our life time.!”

Sammy spoke up “technically speaking, we are already in a void. Just on a rock, floating through the void of space.”

“That’s dark Sammy” Ben said looking at his friend “also don't let this strange guy get to you man.“

“I’m not, I’m just saying he is technically right, we are in a void. Just probably not the one he’s talking about. Right... uh.. “ Sammy paused. He didn’t know this guys name. “Do you mind telling us your name stranger?”

“I’m Cecil” he said “and trust my, I’m married to a scientist, I know there is a void coming, he wouldn't not tell me this stuff.”

“Hi Cecil. I’m Sammy, my friend, and co-host Ben can be very opinionated at times” Sammy said.

“Opinionated, ans stating facts are two different things Sammy! Fact: We don’t have to worry about being consumed by the void at any moment, fact if we were , we would not have any warning. Just poof we’re gone.” Ben looked at Sammy, and let out a long sigh. “So how did you get into out signal?”

“I’m not sure” Cecil said “I’m as surprised as you are.”

“Well, maybe we can work this out” Sammy suggested “there has to be a reasonable explanation.”

“Oh you mean like hacking us” Ben remarked.

“Who would hack a radio station on a mountain” Sammy asked.

“Oh I don’t know” Ben began “I can list a few people off the top of my head, and a few reasons.”

“Does he sound like any one we know, Ben?”

“Wait” Cecil interrupted “wait, did you say mountain? Mountains don’t exist. It is illegal to even mention them. You had better be careful.”

“Mountains don’t- what do you mean they don’t exist” Ben said, raising his voice slightly “we- but. What about these facts now Sammy.”

Sammy looked surprised “Well, I mean. You’re joking right?”

“The existence of illegal things is nothing to joke about” Cecil said “you’d have to go get re-education, not to mention everything else. It is not a fun time.”

Ben paused, looking at Sammy before he started speaking again “right... Where are you from?”

“I am from Night Vale. You? You can’t be from Desert Bluffs.”

“No, no” Ben said “we are from King Falls. I’ve never heard of either of those places you listed.”

“Well I haven't heard of yours either.“

“Good. So we are on the same page there, neither of us have heard of the place the other lives.Supposedly.”

Another thunderous roar cracked over head, echoing on either side.

“Okay, that was weird” Ben said.

#King Falls AM #Welcome To Night Vale #I didnt plan to go this far #I just kept typing #oops #fanfiction

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moose-bloods · 7 years

Text

Pretty In Pink (Cecilos Week 2017)

SMUT WARNING Word Count: 3848 This got paragraphed weird for some reason and I’m too lazy to fix it lmao

Cecil was a sucker for fashion. He was never very good at it, but he still enjoyed it. He'd found himself wasting money on loads of unnecessary clothing items multiple times, but he just couldn't stop himself. Online shopping was like a guilty pleasure to him.

Well, he wouldn't say guilty. He didn't typically feel bad after purchasing the clothes. He wore them with pride, mixing and matching the different items from different brands, enjoying the strange yet confident vibes they seemed to make him radiate. In fact, his online shopping addiction was probably the exact opposite of a guilty pleasure, if he's being honest.

Cecil's favourite clothes to buy, though, were the ones he'd never shown to anyone. The ones he bought just so he could stand in his bathroom and admire himself through the front camera of his phone - avoiding all mirrors, of course. He had countless pairs of random lingerie sets that he'd never really bought for anyone but himself. Being a radio host, especially for a town like Night Vale, it was hard to keep things to yourself and have your own private life; and Cecil just liked having his own little secret that nobody else knew about, not including the Sheriff's Secret Police.

But soon that changed. Soon, a beautiful man made his way into Night Vale, into Cecil's heart, and Cecil realized he wasn't buying the lingerie for himself anymore. He'd never shown this beautiful man the lingerie, Gods, no, but he still had that voice in the back of his head that was whispering to him that he wasn't just doing it for himself anymore.

He started thinking about the kind of lingerie Carlos would like to see him in, and every time he purchased lingerie after that, he couldn't help but consider if Carlos would like it or not. If his mind decided, "yes, Carlos would like this," he would buy it, but if his mind thought Carlos wouldn't then he wouldn't even think about buying it.

Then, the unbelievable happened: they started dating. They weren't very intimate at first but Cecil was just so pleased to know Carlos even liked him a little bit. It was probably ridiculous but every time Cecil even so much as thought about the way Carlos would hesitantly grab his hands, or awkwardly kiss him goodbye, his stomach would do flips and his mind would turn to jelly.

They were together almost a year before Cecil even considered being physical with Carlos. The farthest they'd ever gone was a little bit of grinding and the thought of Carlos rejecting Cecil terrified him.

So, there they were now, laying on Cecil's couch, the TV playing some random movie that Cecil wasn't paying attention to. They'd been cuddling like this for hours, watching movies and just talking about their day. They always seemed to end up like this when they both had a not-so-good day and it was a great stress-reliever. Or, at least, to Cecil it was.

It seemed to be for Carlos too. Carlos was often very frustrated with his work and every time something slightly wrong would happen Carlos would basically shut down. His body would reject food, his mind would forget how to produce words, he'd lose all track of time, and this used to be a problem for Cecil. But, over the past year, Cecil had somewhat trained Carlos to call him instead. No matter the time or what Cecil was doing, he promised Carlos that if he ever felt like he was going to have one of his 'episodes', he could just call Cecil and he would drop whatever he's doing to come help.

And that's what was happening now. Carlos never really tells Cecil what went wrong at the lab, and Cecil's okay with that, but whatever happened that day must've been bad because Carlos's mind just seemed to be somewhere else the entire time.

"Are you alright?" Cecil asked, looking up at Carlos from his spot in the scientist's lap. Carlos's eyes shot down to look at Cecil, almost like he forgot the other man was there.

"O-oh, um, yeah. Just tired, is all." He muttered, a small, fake smile playing on his lips.

Cecil sighed, sitting up and adjusting himself so he was sitting next to Carlos rather than laying on him.

"Would you like me to drive you home?" Cecil asked, and Carlos was silent, just staring down at his lap.

"Carlos?" Cecil asked, his hand reaching out and resting on the scientists shoulder comfortingly.

"Carlo-?"

"Can I stay here tonight?" Carlos had cut Cecil off, his words falling out of his mouth in a quick jumble. His eyes never moved from his lap but once he stated his question, they shut tightly, his entire body clenching in what seemed to be fear. Cecil's brows furrowed.

"What?" He asked, his tone confused.

Carlos sighed, standing from his position on the couch, "you know what, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. I can just...I can just walk home so it's not to much of a bother to you. I have to stop by the lab anyway and work on this experiment. I shouldn't have abandoned it in the first pla-"

It was Cecil's turn to cut Carlos off now and he did so by standing and walking towards the nervous wreck in front of him and giving him a very quick and smooth peck to his lips. Carlos didn't kiss back, probably out of shock mixed with the anxiety he'd been experiencing only seconds before, but when Cecil pulled away, Carlos looked considerably much calmer.

Cecil smiled, grabbing Carlos's hand and lacing his fingers with his own.

"You can stay here tonight." Cecil stated quietly, and he could hear Carlos let go of a breath he'd been holding in. "If you still want to, I mean."

Carlos nodded quickly, his eyes focused on the ground and avoiding Cecil's. Cecil smiled.

"Alright, well, I assume you probably want to shower before bed?" Cecil asked and Carlos nodded again.

"Then I'll show you to the bathroom."

And that's what Cecil did. He showed Carlos where the bathroom was, telling him the ritual he needed to do to turn on the faucet - Carlos audibly groaned at that - and then he showed Carlos where to find clothes afterward.

"My bedroom closet has all of my sleeping clothes in the very back, so you can just go through those after your shower and pick whatever you want to sleep in." Cecil stated and Carlos smiled, nodding.

Cecil looked at his watch, biting his lip.

"I think, while you're showering, I'm gonna go out and rent a couple more movies, okay?"

"Alright."

And that was that. Cecil waited until he heard the shower water running to leave, and then he was in his car and on his way down to the rental place. It wasn't very far, about a seven or eight minute ride, but it took Cecil forever to find some movies he thought Carlos would like. He did, though, eventually, and after paying the man at the counter, he made his way back to his car and started driving home.

He turned on the radio at one point, wanting to listen to music so he could break the silence that lingered in the car, but all that was on was a rerun of his show from earlier that day and Cecil had a thing about listening to his own voice so instead he just shut off the radio and hummed to himself the entire ride home.

After getting out of his car, making his way to his apartment door and doing the ritual to get inside, he noticed that it was oddly quiet throughout the apartment. The shower was off, which meant Carlos wasn't showering anymore, but there wasn't any sound at all. Usually, Cecil would be able to hear the TV or Carlos talking to himself, but it was just silent.

Very slowly and very cautiously, Cecil walked to the couch and sat the movies down, along with his wallet. He looked toward the bathroom, noticing the light was off and he frowned. That meant Carlos was in his room. Cecil made his way towards the bedroom, trying to make as little sound as possible - just in case - and he very slowly opened the bedroom door.

As soon as he did, his heart stopped, his breath stalling in his throat, and his body freezing in place as his eyes glued to the scene before him. What he saw was definitely not what he was expecting to see. Standing there, in the middle of his bedroom, was Carlos wearing one of Cecil's light pink lingerie gowns.

Carlos didn't seem to notice Cecil as he stood there, running his hands over the silky fabric and admiring the way it curved and shaped his own body. Cecil's eyes were wide at this scene unfolding before him. Carlos looked so beautiful and soft in the gown. Cecil wanted nothing more than to tear it off of him.

Cecil also noticed that it was one of the sets that he had bought with Carlos in mind and he felt a ping of satisfaction knowing he'd guessed Carlos's type well.

Cecil opened the door the rest of the way, cursing at himself when the loud creak made Carlos jump and turn to face Cecil. Carlos's eyes were wide as he stared at Cecil, fear very evident on his face.

"C-Cecil! U-um, I-I just...L-listen, it's, um," Carlos was a stuttering mess as he tried to confront Cecil, his body shaking and his hands instinctively going to cover his body. "I was just...t-trying it on. I-I'm sorry."

Carlos closed his eyes, his head falling forward to face the ground and Cecil swears his heart broke a little just at the thought that Carlos assumed Cecil would hate him for this. Cecil stepped into the bedroom, shutting the door behind himself, and he slowly made his way towards Carlos. The closer he got, the more he could hear Carlos's shaky breaths, and Cecil wanted nothing more than to make the fragile scientist feel loved.

He got as close to Carlos as he could standing and he reached up to caress the side of his face, lightly pulling his head up so Carlos was looking up at him. Cecil leaned in pressing his forehead against Carlos's and he could hear his breath halt.

"I think you look lovely," Cecil muttered quietly, staring directly into Carlos's eyes and he could see the deep blush flow onto Carlos's dark skin. Cecil smiled and, without even thinking, leaned in, kissing Carlos deeply.

Carlos's hands flew up and wrapped around Cecil's neck, playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck as his kissed back enthusiastically. They stood there like that for a while, just kissing and enjoying the taste of each other before Carlos pulled away shyly and hid his face in Cecil's neck.

Cecil was confused at first, but he held onto Carlos's waste, enjoying the soft, silky fabric that bunched up beneath his fingertips, as Carlos just hugged him tightly.

"I want you to make love to me," Carlos whispered, the words almost inaudible, and Cecil froze. He could feel his heartbeat pick up in his chest and he gripped Carlos's hips a little tighter.

"Okay." He whispered back, and he could feel Carlos smile into his neck. Cecil pulled away a bit, smiling back at Carlos's awkward grin, and he gestured to the bed. Carlos happily made his way to it, sitting down on the edge of it and watching as Cecil started to dispose of his clothes.

Cecil started with his shirt, then his shoes, then his pants, but Carlos stopped him when he was about to take of his underwear.

"I want to do it?" Cecil thinks that was supposed to be a statement, but it came out as more of a question so he just nodded and made his way to stand in front of Carlos.

Carlos was eye level with his groin, and Cecil bit his lip as the scientists shaky hands found their way to the top of his boxers. Carlos let his fingers linger there for a moment, just staring at Cecil's skin, tracing the tattoos with his eyes. Then, he cautiously hooked his fingers beneath the rim of his boxers and pulled them down slowly.

Cecil groaned a little as the fabric rubbed against his half hard member, and he could see Carlos bite his lip when his cock was free of it's confinements. After Carlos had gotten his boxers down to his ankles, Cecil just stepped out of them and kicked them to the side, not really caring where they went.

Carlos looked up at Cecil, and Cecil swears he could've just come from that one look, but what Carlos did was so much better. Hesitantly, Carlos reached up and wrapped his hand around the base of Cecil's cock, causing Cecil to moan softly at the sensation. Carlos could feel his lovers member harden more in his hand and he smiled a bit to himself before stroking it once fully.

Cecil wasn't large, but he wasn't small. His cock seemed to be the perfect size for Carlos and if that isn't a message from the Gods, Cecil doesn't know what is. Carlos continued to stroke Cecil's cock slowly, rubbing his thumb over the slit and gathering precum so he could spread it as a lubricant to make everything go smoother.

Cecil was enjoying this so very much, his eyes were rolling into the back of his head, his hands were clenching and gripping at thin air, and he could feel his tattoos start to move around his body, but if Carlos kept this up he was going to come without even getting to the best part.

Cecil reached down and softly grabbed Carlos's wrist, pulling his hand away and Carlos's eyes shot up to look at Cecil.

"Did I do something wrong?" Carlos asked and Cecil chuckled.

"No, no. Just don't wanna get ahead of ourselves too early, yeah?" Carlos exhaled and nodded.

Cecil gently pushed Carlos back so he was laying flat against the bed and he admired the way his imperfect Carlos seemed so perfect. After staring for a while, just going over every detail of Carlos's body that it had to offer, he slowly made his own way onto the bed, straddling Carlos's hips.

He leaned down, kissing Carlos deeply, humming when he kissed back, and let his hands make their way down Carlos's torso. He let his hands touch and feel every part of Carlos's upper body he could while his tongue made it's way inside of the scientists mouth, exploring the inside of Carlos just as much as the outside.

He pulled away slightly, breathless and panting as he reached over to the bedside table and grabbed the bottle of lube he had there.

"Wanna be inside of you," Cecil muttered, leaning down and kissing Carlos again.

"Want you inside of me." Carlos said back, his tone slightly sarcastic and Cecil smiled. There's the Carlos he knows, he thought.

Cecil kissed Carlos's cheek, then his jaw, then his neck, and everywhere else as he made his way down the scientists body. He reached the hem of the lingerie gown and he smiled up at Carlos before kissing the inside of Carlos's exposed thighs. Carlos let out a shaky breath, his hands tightening in the sheets just at the thought of Cecil being inside of him.

Cecil lifted up the bottom of the gown slowly, resting it on Carlos's stomach so the outline of his leaking cock could be seen through the thin fabric of the matching panties.

Cecil leaned in slowly, laying soft, open-mouthed kisses on Carlos's clothed member. Carlos let out a whine at the touch, and Cecil smiled to himself, kissing up Carlos's cock and taking the clothed head of it into his mouth. He sucked gently, tasting the precum through the fabric, and Carlos's hands reached to tangle in Cecil's hair.

Cecil pulled off of Carlos's cock and smiled up at him again, taking in the image of the breathless man above him. He looked back down at Carlos's member, noticing a now very visible wet patch where Cecil's mouth was seconds before. He looped his fingers beneath the top of the panties and pulled them down slowly, biting his lip when Carlos's cock peaked out.

He pulled them all the way off, tossing them onto the floor before turning his attention back to a now mostly naked Carlos. He opened the bottle of lube he'd been holding in his hand and poured some onto his fingers, spreading it over three before setting the bottle on the bed. He sat up onto his knees and pulled Carlos closer, positioning one of his fingers at the scientists hole.

"You ready?" He asked, his voice laced with concern, and Carlos nodded, his head falling back onto the pillows.

"Yes, Cecil, yes! God, please, just do it."

Cecil smiled and pushed the tip of his finger in, his body shuttering when Carlos let out a deep moan.

"More." Carlos muttered quietly, his hips pushing back against Cecil's finger.

Cecil obeyed and pushed his finger all the way in, pulling it back out when he reached his knuckle. After a few thrusts, Cecil added another finger and Carlos moaned even louder than before. Then, he added the last one and, instead of moaning, Carlos made a noise that was a mix between a whimper and a hiss.

Cecil waited to move his fingers, his body still until he could see the pain on Carlos's face disappear. When it did, he made sure to go very slowly, scissoring his fingers lightly and rubbing the bottom of Carlos's stomach comfortingly.

Carlos was a moaning mess by the time Cecil had finished prepping him. His breaths were short and rough, his hands were gripping at the bed sheets so tightly his knuckles were white, and his cock was so hard it was starting to look swollen against his stomach.

Cecil pulled his fingers out of Carlos slowly - Carlos whimpered at the feeling of being empty, chasing Cecil's fingers with his hips - and grabbed the bottle of lube again. He poured more onto his hand and rubbed it onto his member, all while watching Carlos writhe needily on the bed. Once he was lubed up, he closed the cap and threw the lube somewhere onto the bed, not really caring where it ended up.

He leaned over Carlos, his hands on either side of the scientists head and he positions his cock at the mans entrance. Carlos's arms wrapped around Cecil's neck, and his legs around Cecil's waste, as he unconsciously bucked up towards Cecil's cock, causing it to slide against his hole teasingly.

Cecil leaned down and kissed Carlos softly, open-mouthed and wet, but with no tongue. Carlos pulled away and smiled up at Cecil, who was so riled up that his tattoos were dancing messily along his skin and his eyes were becoming that bright, glowing purple they became when he was angry.

Cecil reached down and positioned his cock directly at Carlos's hole before looking the scientist - his scientist - in the eye and smiling.

"You ready?"

Carlos nodded.

"You're positive you want to do this?"

Carlos nodded again.

"We don't have to if you don't want t - holy shit." Cecil was cut off by Carlos pushing himself down onto Cecil's cock, his body taking it fully until he was flush against the radio host.

Carlos moaned loudly, his nails digging into Cecil's shoulder blades and his eyes squeezing shut at the perfect mixture of pain and pleasure. Cecil's breath was caught in his throat as he leaned down and buried his face in Carlos's shoulder.

"H-holy shit, Carlos, warn me next time." Cecil joked breathlessly, panting against the scientists skin.

Carlos bucked his hips again, causing Cecil to slide out and back in again, before muttering, "move. Please, move." in a needy voice.

Cecil pushed himself back up onto his hands, looking down at the man beneath him lovingly before slowly pulling out almost all the way and thrusting back in just as slowly. Carlos groaned, his grip on Cecil's shoulders tightening, causing Cecil to hiss a bit in pain.

Cecil repeated this a few times, thrusting slowly, trying to enjoy the tightness around him, but Carlos kept ruining the rhythm by bucking against Cecil unintentionally.

"Faster, Cecil." Carlos pleaded, his tone whiny and each word shaky. Cecil sighed, smiling to himself before adjusting his thrusts to go a little bit faster. Carlos still didn't seem to be completely pleased though, because in a matter of seconds he was groaning and flipping them over so he was on top, straddling Cecil.

Cecil's eyes were wide, confused, as Carlos placed his hands on Cecil's chest and started to slowly ride Cecil's cock. The scientist moaned at the new angle, whimpered at how deep he got Cecil's cock to go this way, and he quickened his pace, practically bouncing on the radio hosts cock.

Cecil was breathless, watching Carlos move like this. His eyes were shut in ecstasy, his hair was still damp from the shower and sticking to his forehead, the gown he was wearing was bunched up at the ends while the strap slipped down his shoulder. He looked gorgeous and Cecil could feel that unfamiliar yet so obvious heat in his stomach start to grow.

Cecil reached up and placed his hands on Carlos's hips, his fingers pulling at the fabric as his hips started thrusting upwards to meet Carlos's hips. Carlos was moaning uncontrollably now, his fingernails digging roughly into Cecil's skin and leaving red marks behind them.

"S-so close, Cecil." Carlos moaned, his thrusts becoming sloppier.

Cecil nodded, his head falling back against the pillows and his body starting to stutter. He could feel Carlos stall on his cock and he forced himself to look up wanting to see his scientist when he came.

Carlos's eyes were shut, his hands had moved from Cecil's chest to grab the gown and pull it up above his cock and his head was thrown back as he came, spilling across his own cock and Cecil's stomach with a loud moan.

Just the sight was enough to push Cecil over the edge and he came as well, filling up Carlos and groaning as he did so. They stayed like that for a while, Carlos just sitting there on Cecil, trying to catch his breath before he pulled himself off of Cecil and shakily got off of the bed.

"I think...I think we need to get cleaned up." Carlos stated, gesturing toward the mess.

Cecil nodded, not bothering to move.

"I'm going to get in the shower again." Carlos's tone was suggestive, but Cecil still didn't move.

"Would you like to shower with me?"

Cecil had never gotten out of bed so fast in his life.

#Cecilos Week 2017 #PWP #Fluff and Smut #Cecilos #Cecilos Smut #cecil x carlos

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alchemist-shizun · 5 years

Text

A song to fix what’s wrong (Take what’s broken make it whole)

Read on Ao3!

Word Count: 4,525

Taglist: @max-is-tired @bookwormscififan

Characters: Cecil, Carlos, (others briefly or only mentioned)

Pairing(s): Are you even asking. Cecilos

Warning(s): Crying, Negative thoughts (not too deep), Blood mention, Death mention (minor), Kissing, Swearing (once, during narration)

and yours truly, heavily projecting

Summary: A review of a relationship, a retelling of a story already told. You know how it goes, all you need to do is … dive into the symphony and let yourself swim around the sweetest and hardest events.

A/N: Me? Putting 4 songs in a single fic? More likely than my fake originality makes you think. Song lyrics used for the fic is the english cover of Fuyu no Hanashi by Nordex, I recommend you listen to it. (Original can be found here.) Alright so this basically leads up to the 70th episode, there might be some references to the first episodes too, let’s say it’s a very tiny review of a large amount of time. There’s a moment towards that is not chronologically put compared to the scene after it but yeah, just think of the points of view as their own little stories. Also the more I wrote this the more I didn’t realize I was typing down some exact feelings and thoughts I didn’t even remember they had. I’m basically connected, help. Well without any further ado, hope you enjoy~

✾

❝ I’d die for you any day My life’s over anyway Lets go to the empty park And talk ‘til it’s really dark. ❞

✾

Just like the snow that won’t completely melt away

I keep with me these feelings deep inside.

Just let me know the words.

How dare he? How could he have done that to him?

Cecil was pacing down the hall heading towards his workplace, with a hand through his hair and a huff forming on his lips.

There was literally no need for him to be able to do that and yet he still had the audacity to turn his heart into a puddle of overwhelming sensations.

He had to come there, with his perfect hair, perfect coat, and perfect being, claim he was a scientist with his perfectly smart words and arguments and ruin the peace for his and the town’s heartbeats.

But mostly his.

The frequency with which his flow of thoughts constantly derailed from his regular ones to the most admiring observations about the scientist couldn’t help but grow with every week he spent in their town.

Cecil was happy to report any news or confirmed rumors about Carlos, anything would have resulted in creating a joyful aura around the recording room. And the citizens were definitely noticing a smile in his voice whenever they heard him talk about Carlos.

It was like a blow of the wind during a blazing hot day in the middle of the warmest summer day. Not only satisfying, but also you don’t realize how much you had needed it until you notice the way it makes you feel so much better.

And the great amount you miss it when it’s gone.

But how could Cecil express that if he yet had no clue of the other’s considerations of him?

Sure, they had talked more than once, he had even left him his phone number, but … there hadn’t been any significant turns since there.

No talk of weekend plans either, sadly.

Should he have just … shoved it all down? What kind of nonsense was that? There was no way he would have succeeded. With so much increasing appreciation, he was only going to explode.

And then, something finally happened.

The voicemails, the ones he had shared with his listeners. The squealing he may or may not have recorded right onto the mic, too.

Out of all people. Carlos had decided to call him.

It was when time had started to stop. Slow down … restart again? He could not tell.

Furthermore, they had even talked on the phone and agreed to meet up the day after, it all sounded like Cecil was finally getting the shift of his life.

As much as he sounded so ingenuous around Carlos. But hey, he was panicking, okay?

It could happen even to the best of the radio hosts who’s able to talk to a multitude of people at once without failing a beat.

He could do this, he had the words.

Should I just close now the door that guards strongly this love?

You’re my everything and now my soul keeps calling for you

There was something Carlos most definitely didn’t notice.

All he had done until then was partaking into all the experiments and research he could have, studying one of the most scientifically interesting places he’d ever been to.

He thought that was all that it was to him.

And yet …

After that one day, he kept going back to him.

They had met, they had talked, Cecil had been certainly useful in giving him some fundamental information on the town and other important contacts he still didn’t have.

It was also nice because … well, with his team of other valuable scientists, it was easier to get lost in confronting each other’s thoughts and hypothesis. With Cecil, on the other hand, he could have done that for hours, rambling about things he loved and his interlocutor probably didn’t understand and still feel like he was listened to thoroughly.

It was kind of endearing when Cecil kept nodding, but with a confused expression adorning his face.

He kept going back, again.

But, as we mentioned, there was something he didn’t notice about himself.

More than often he called with the excuse of using him as a mean of reaching for all the citizens to get the word of a discovery out, or looking for some of their knowledge.

He liked his excitement when Cecil answered.

He also liked his name, he had thought to himself once. It was like a melody.

Nonetheless, he had no idea where that came from. Did he hear that in a musical? About another town … way down somewhere?

Anytime he confronted his feelings, that was what happened. He involuntarily diverted them; his process of thinking had always been pretty fast, so much that his talking was unstoppable during an epiphany or breakthrough.

Eventually, his subconscious would have arisen, slapped him in the face, and yelled at him to face those feelings for once instead of solely focusing on science.

Which finally happened during the attack of tiny men at the Bowling Alley. He knew he was going to put himself in danger acting that way.

There was nothing to fear, huh?

It would have been grave danger too, if the Apache Tracker hadn’t jumped and taken the hits in his place.

This is something that makes you wonder. About your condition, about how you could have died in a matter of seconds if the projectiles had been that tiny bit more to the left.

About your life and where you are now and how it could have drastically changed. It was like a near-death experience. It fueled his deepest impulsive thoughts to burst at once.

If he had died back then, be wouldn’t have finished his research. He wouldn’t have known anything more about the town, anything more about the bizarre happenings around it. About the citizens. About Cecil.

Cecil. He needed to see Cecil, even if it meant ripping him from his desk, he needed the comfort he was sure he could find in him. He needed to let him know he treasured him.

Not many words came, in the end.

They just stared into the distant nothingness, Cecil’s head resting on his shoulder.

And Carlos, who had imperceptibly sighed, finally found the place to smile.

And now I am completely in love

Just walk right now along with me

Through all the ways that we can go

I ask right now: don’t let me go?

Cecil still couldn’t believe he had had a date with the most stupendous scientist he had ever met. He was still baffled by the fact that he had met him at all.

And yet there they were, filled with pleasant food thanks to the Italian restaurant, walking around town with their arms sometimes linked, fingers sometimes intertwining, eyes going to the sky and smiling as they caught blinking lights or each other’s stare.

Wonderful, a wonderful night indeed that couldn’t have ended better. Or so Cecil thought.

Because when he had driven him home, Carlos had hesitated in his seat. Cecil was about to ask him what was the matter, when the scientist turned to face him and leaned forward, placing a hand on his shoulder that was too soon torn away.

Soft lips were placed on his for a brief moment that didn’t even feel real.

Cecil could only stare in Carlos’s direction as he bid his farewell and disappeared behind closed doors.

All too soon.

Were he to be more lucid, he would have probably begged him not to let go in such a short amount of time. He didn’t even want him to go just yet …

Cecil could have even gotten out of his car and knock on his door, wrap his arms around Carlos and never, ever, leave his side.

Instead, he turned on the engine and shook off those musings from his mind. That was when he had realized he had fallen even deeper in love all over again.

With no goodbyes or moving on

Just stay with me wherever I go

Don’t let me be alone

Carlos knew it was disappointing.

Their relationship had been going wonderfully and having distance separate them was one of the worst things that could have happened, especially now that they were so used to living together.

He couldn’t count the times Cecil had warned him to be careful in that Desert Otherworld where everything seemed to work for a reason he was still working on.

He was by Dana’s side one of the first times he had been able to pay a visit as a hologram.

Such a mess had been going down in Night Vale right then, with all that Strexcorp issue to be solved.

Yet, he was still the one to be reminded of mindfulness.

« Don’t worry Cecil. » he had told him, the ringing of his words still clear in his mind. « A scientist is always fine. »

He firmly believed that was going to be true, in the long run. Not too long would have passed before he could have been back.

Loneliness couldn’t be a thing when they still could call each other and digitally see each other, right?

The spell or maybe curse has not been broken yet

I’m still holding the baggage that I had

Just please relieve this pain

It was so hard. So so hard, on Cecil’s part. He couldn’t help but still feel like Carlos was trapped in that desert, never to find or trust old oak doors again.

The more time he spent away, the more Cecil’s mind wandered about other thoughts than what he should have been focusing on.

Focusing was something impossible, at the time.

Everything seemed impossible, burdening, complicated.

Things he loved doing, forgotten. Uncared for. He felt so off any suggestion wouldn’t have been a good enough distraction.

He couldn’t stop the tension in his body, the lingering feeling of restlessness, waiting for something that never came, disappointing himself for dreaming of things he couldn’t obtain just yet.

Yes, obviously, he should have been happy Carlos was going to make the most important breakthrough in his life, but … not having him by his side every now and then was simply painful.

It was as if some kind of malevolent deity had been watching him and laughing by themselves at his misfortune.

And yet, their love seemed to be growing forevermore, not an inch too little or too much, but the exact amount both of them needed. It was soft and enough and they knew, which was everything that sustained them and told them to carry on and store their strongest feelings for the moment in which they’d have been able to finally see each other again.

If only … if only there could have been an easy way to get rid of all the doubtful and unhappy feelings that stuck to his brain.

He didn’t trust himself to be able to get through the days with the same attitude anymore.

Didn’t trust his mind, most of all.

Wasn’t there a service to get read of his thoughts in the most brutal manner for at least a small amount of days?

Hey, what’s our future?

What should I keep on waiting for?

What am I supposed to find in this cold place, let me know?

It was all going so smoothly.

Sometimes it happened. You think you’re doing just fine and then, one day, the world comes crashing all at once.

A multitude of good days eventually results in one of the worst ones of your life and you’re left to think “Where did I go wrong? Why do I deserve this? Do I even deserve this?”

Carlos had been basically running around all day, chasing Doug and Alisha down with their army of giants, who were continuously charging other beings who dared to wander around the limits of their land.

No moment of peace could be found, no place to rest, no listening to him!

It was insane, they still attacked even when their conditions appeared to be grave and unbearable.

The kitchen counter had already been torn to pieces when the group decided to head for the battle again, Carlos resigned to sigh heavily and not follow this time.

It had been much better when Cecil stayed there. Maybe … he should have stayed even later.

What was even bound to happen there anymore? Could he have carried on with his research when he had to tend to an entire army that was there to protect and help him, in their own ways?

Lately in those days he had felt off. The excitement for his work was still there, of course, but the emptiness from when he had woken up still lingered.

Was taking Cecil there a good idea?

Looking outside, he saw the army retiring to his place, some completely covered in blood, some severely injured.

Doubt came in.

For a moment, he tried to ignore it.

He picked up the phone and got back to Kevin’s reporting.

The tears are falling from my eyes

They’re freezing everything inside

How much could someone fool their mind before the world came crashing down on them altogether, on the verge of falling apart and with nothing and none to stop the feeling of impending doom upon them?

It was a question Cecil had been wondering for quite some time by then, in all its varying forms.

And how much longer until the minimal inconvenience was going to break him apart?

He had been … so proud of that painting. Few were the times in which he took one of his works with him at the radio station, they were mostly things that reminded him of Khoshekh.

But then, yeah. He needed to be reminded of happiness. Joy. Carlos. All the feelings that he brought him and never ceased to twist his insides in a pleasant manner.

And as he looked at the painting while sitting at his desk, the more he felt like he could enter that dimension and reach him if he were to brush the surface of the canvas.

His feet moved by themselves: it was the weather report anyway. He had time for some musing; he held his hand out and stretched to the landscape.

Yet, the colors only warmed under his touch. And nothing else happened.

Except for a loud crash against that same wall as soon as he had stepped away from it.

Wide eyes went over the destruction laid upon them, steps still slowly retreating to the desk.

Cecil gripped its surface tight to steady himself. His mind was emptied for a second as he processed the scene in front of him.

Not only was part of the room demolished, but also his painting had completely and inevitably torn to pieces too.

The one that followed was the longest moment of silence Cecil had ever experienced.

Everything was nothing for even a sole instant.

Then, nothing became all he had ever tried to do, because nothing mattered anymore now that fate wanted to delete all the traces of happiness left in his body.

So the first tear came. Then another. And another, another, another, so much that he fell to his knees and his blurred vision turned away because he couldn’t just bear the sight any longer.

He felt betrayal, but not his own.

It was as if, with the work of art, part of his heart had died. Part of his love, denied. Part of them and their relationship, completely discarded.

He had spent so much time perfectioning the details, so long daydreaming Carlos’s gorgeous figure and stopping to think back at how he was dating the best person in the world.

Now it felt like that didn’t happen at all.

He simply wanted to be confident in his own work again. He only needed a goddamn moment to reassure himself when none else could be there for him.

A way not to disregard it all and look for a way to find his peace again.

It was like a gift. He had been so proud …

An hour or so had passed before he noticed the weather report was about to end.

Cecil got back to his feet and headed towards his seat, ignoring the breeze that tickled his skin.

He sighed deeply, his chest aching with every sob that had escaped his lips in the past minutes.

The last notes of the melody echoed within the room, as he wiped the tears away from his cheeks and regained his composure. Not even reporting made him feel better anymore.

When silence filled the chaos around him, he took a few beats to stabilize his voice. His eyes opened and so did his mouth. And the words started flowing.

But he couldn’t hide his torment any longer.

He told them what had happened. He told them of the debris, of the veiled pain, of the safety.

« It’s fine. Yup. Everything’s fine. »

Cecil? Well, he blatantly lied. To himself and all his listeners.

And maybe, for the time being, that was for the best.

Of course, before, once the recording had finished, he broke down again.

Under this beautiful blue sky

They’re just pretending to be kind

« No. » Carlos’s face fell. « No, no, no. »

His eyes searched his lab for a sign of any single object or the smallest of notes that could have been saved.

Everything had shattered to the ground covered in fur, everything had been crushed to pieces and there was nothing he could have done.

He found none.

Carlos let out the breath he had been holding as he entered the room and was met with that disastrous mess.

He forced himself to approach his workplace, his eyes filled with tears over stress, the frustration and disappointment of having lost an entire year worth of research.

All his sorrow couldn’t fit in his chest.

As a hand flew to his mouth, the other trailed over the papers on the desk, staining with blood with every brush of his fingertips.

He felt sick.

He felt sick of blood, sick of fights, sick of distance and this situation he couldn’t bear anymore.

What was even the point of staying when his discoveries didn’t matter anymore? Just for the clear days and nights above him? When he wondered if Cecil’s stars were the same as his?

Carlos blinked back the tears that didn’t have the time to fall.

He found the only blank sheet of paper, picked up a pen, and started writing.

Time passes by and I can’t stop crying out loud just like a child.

Cecil could say … it only got worse with time.

As the weeks passed, as the air surrounding him only got heavier and heavier with every single second weighing down on his whole body, like as if he could literally feel the aging and passage of time on his shoulders, it only got worse.

He did hope and almost believe his vacation would have been of any kind of help. He resisted the voices in his head telling him it wouldn’t have been of significance, like any other method he had tried.

Cecil had spent time with Janice too before that, to see if he could feel again or if he really just had to give up on it all.

It worked for the few hours they were together. After that, the complete void once again.

It wasn’t like the void wasn’t friendly, but … even the closest of friends could grow excessive if they stuck with you the same way the void was doing.

And the emptiness.

And the sadness.

The one that hit during night, or when you’re craving hugs, the one that makes existing an aching experience because all you’d need is comfort but you can’t have it the way you desire.

Those moments in which you seem to cry for no reason when you’re actually trying to convince yourself you have no idea why this is happening to you, but you know exactly what’s wrong deep inside.

But you don’t give voice to your emotions in fear of hurting someone or concerning someone else. So you keep everything in a little corner of your mind and you let it explode at once.

Maybe with silent crying, maybe in an empty room.

Maybe nowhere at all, just in some indefinite time. Maybe it’s not happening.

Or you’re not realizing.

That you’re falling apart in front of your very own eyes.

The two of us have now been torn apart.

Carlos had stepped into the radio station of the Desert Otherworld when a wave of queasiness hit him yet again just like it had earlier that day, after he had turned off the call to stop the masked giants.

Was that … blood? Bones?

He was so tired, so much the once so-called paradise had become a burden itself.

He couldn’t live like that anymore.

He shouldn’t have lived like that at all.

And he convinced himself of this the more his conversation with Kevin prolonged.

An entire year spent away from where he belonged, from whom he belonged to. He needed to remedy that.

Kevin just kept smiling the same way he always did, too wide and too happy to be real. It made it just that tiny bit harder to deliver the letter.

Being aware you’re going to hurt someone else’s feelings wasn’t exactly the most ideal thought.

But there were others he had been hurting while staying there.

He pretended he didn’t notice all those little different behaviors when Cecil had been there.

His hand held a bit tighter, the hugs a bit longer, lips lingering just that much more both of them needed. How he never left his side, how he insisted on those five more minutes before getting up.

And it wasn’t like Carlos was complaining, he knew Cecil was trying to make the most of his time, but he just knew there was so much more than that underneath his demeanor.

He only didn’t have the heart to ask him.

Sometimes, he did capture Night Vale’s radio-waves, a couple of figments of what Cecil reported about the news, the usual stuff, and … his discomfort.

Everything felt wrong ever since he told him to move to the Desert Otherworld.

Then everything went wrong, like a message from a futile destiny ahead warning him about the wrong possibilities, which are always too many to dwell on them instead of taking action.

Which was why, after so many signs that day, he was there to leave that letter on Kevin’s desk.

«Choose not to be sad, Carlos. » Kevin had said. « In fact, choose to be happy! »

That was probably what fueled him to leave even more. He would’ve understood, once he had read through the letter, as painful as it could have been for him.

It was true, he was doing that for his own happiness. There was nothing left of it in there anymore, if not the ghost of joyful memories that were ripped from his hands the moment they ended.

Memories didn’t make you feel with the same intensity of when you experience something.

A quiet melody sang in the middle of the desert’s silent symphony. « Keep smiling through just like you always do. 'Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away. »

He was going to change everything. Make one final travel to where he was going to stay. That one thing, he was sure it did feel right.

« So will you please say hello to the folks that I know? Tell them I won’t be long. »

Especially the freedom no longer waiting outside of that utopic land …

« They’ll be happy to know that as you saw me go I was singin’ this song. »

… of when his feet almost basically sprinted outside of the dog park.

And now I am completely in love

and nothing else will matter now

through all the ways that we can go

I ask right now: don’t let me go?

The sense of familiarity and liberation dawned on Carlos as soon as he had stepped into Night Vale after so long away.

Along with it, the anticipation of seeing his lover made a buzzing feeling take over his stomach. It wasn’t anxiety, it was what he learnt to name “that one sensation that makes you fully comprehend what 'I can’t wait’ truly means”.

He was late for the opera, fine with him, anything would have made do if it ultimately led to Cecil.

It was when he finally found himself right beside him that he forgot everything he knew apart from the fact that, yes, he had been completely, fully and ineffably in love with him this whole time and he wasn’t going to deny it anytime soon.

In fact, he was going to take that into account and love him even more if possible, nothing else existed other than his absolute admiration.

« We’ll meet again. Don’t know where, don’t know when. But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day. » he heard a quiet voice sing.

And when their eyes met after such a long amount of time that he felt like he was going to turn Cecil’s head himself, there was no space for rational thoughts.

Therefore, none of them were able to form rational arguments either.

So Carlos went for an embrace he honestly never wanted to end.

A single whispered line escaped his thoughts before he gave word to his musings.

« Please, don’t let me go. »

Their hug grew even tighter.

With no goodbyes or moving on

You’ll always be right here with me.

Together forever.

Words upon words flowed in the night between them, so many Cecil had been hardly able to take them all in.

Right then, though, he knew his earlier uncertainty had now a reason. Everything always had a reason when it came to Carlos. Everything started to make sense yet again.

They talked about all and nothing and the entirety of their situation, but briefly and with sweet resolutions.

It was all starting to be back to normal, and his family and friends were there to make sure it would remain that way.

There was no place to leave.

But to stay.

And that was a thing both Cecil and Carlos could do together, the oblivion they had been living in for the past year soon put behind their shoulders.

The certainty of waking up next to their loved one, the motivation of going through the day excitedly because you may never know what waited for you at home, the comforting of a cuddle pile on a rainy day with your favorite person and your favorite pet.

It was all that filled their minds.

And, for the time being, it was also all they needed.

#wtnv #wtnv fanfic #cecil palmer #cecilos #wtnv cecil #wtnv carlos #carlos the scientist #read the warnings #long post #purp's writings

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