In The Void, After The Moon Crashed Into Season 8
In the void, after the moon crashed into season 8
“Well…”
“Well…”
…
“…That didn’t go as planned.”
“Honestly, I don’t think there was a plan at all.”
“There never is with the hermits, is there?” They said fondly.
“No,” the other replied, amused. “That’s half the fun, though.”
They laughed.
“…They played well.”
“The players?”
“Yes.”
“They always do. That is why I remind them that they have played the game well after they exit the end.”
“They cannot hear that. That is for the ones behind the screen.”
“Maybe... You tell the players behind the screen that sometimes they can hear the voice of the universe through the noise of their thoughts.”
“Yes.”
“Who’s to say the players on this side of the screen cannot do the same?”
“I suppose.”
“And even if they couldn’t, we’re here to tell them to their faces, even if it doesn’t mean as much then.”
“Why wouldn’t it? Who’s to say it doesn’t mean more to them if we say it to their faces?”
“I don’t think it would carry the same weight. It would only confuse.”
“Still. It would mean more coming from a friend, wouldn’t it?”
“I guess you’re right. Besides, they’re hermits. They’re used to weird.”
“Exactly. Shall we tell them, then? When the next season starts?”
…
“Iskall?”
“…I worry.”
“About them?”
“Who else? This has not been pleasant. Will they truly be okay after this?”
“To cure them of sorrow would destroy them.” They reminded the other. “The sorrow is part of their own private tasks. We-”
“-cannot interfere. I know.”
…
“They will be alright. Right? Etho?”
“Yes. I believe in them.”
“As do I. They may not see the long dream of life, but they will continue the short dream of the game.”
“They probably don’t think it’s particularly short.”
Laughter.
“No, I guess not.”
…
“Yes. We will tell them they played the game well.”
“That everything they need is within them.”
“That they are stronger than they know.”
“That they are the daylight and the night.”
“That’s my line. Half of it is, anyways.”
“Oh, snappers!”
Laughter.
…
“…We should go.”
“There is not much left to stay for.”
“Let check on our players.”
…
“Hear us, hermits. The universe is speaking to you.”
“It’s saying the darkness you fight is within you.”
“It’s saying the light you seek is within you.”
“It’s saying you are not alone.”
“It’s saying you are not separate from every other thing.”
“It’s saying you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code.”
“It’s saying I love you, because you are love.”
“And the season was over and the players woke up from the dream. And the players began a new season. And the players dreamed again, dreamed better. And the players were the universe. And the players were love.”
“Nice improvisation. Really Omega.”
“Thanks.”
“But now it is time.”
“Wake up.”
More Posts from Phoenixdragon and Others
Honestly this is such a APH Norway aesthetic
Rules for the road when traveling in northern Europe
Memorize your route. Your map can and will lie.
Take the safest roads.
Mountain passes shift between our world and another - do not leave your car when you are crossing a mountain pass.
If you see something you believe to be a bear, do not photograph it.
The snow does strange things to our eyes.
Borders shift.
Do not speak to anyone you meet further than a kilometer from the nearest building.
Not everything that appears to be human is.
You may eat at rest stops but leave as soon as possible. If there are no other guests there, leave immediately.
Don’t listen to birdsongs for too long - they will start to tell you things you’d rather not hear.
There are no shortcuts.
Something is looking at you, but it is indifferent to your existence.
The things beneath the soil would rather stay undisturbed. Don’t dig.
Bring a mirror and a clear head.
Leave all religious items at home. They will make a scent trail.
There is a reason we fear wolves, but it isn’t the one you think.
Do not touch scissors on the ground. Ever.
The wind will bite you. Cover up.
The longer you spend in the woods, the stranger the air gets.
Stay calm.
Never approach old houses.
If there is mist on the ground, do not be afraid.
Windmills are further away than they seem.
Don’t look into lakes.
Some farms don’t always exist. Don’t worry if you can’t find it on your return trip.
Don’t drink slow-running river water. If you do, there will invariably be a dead animal upstream.
Bridges are sacred places. Do not disrespect them.
Avoid wetlands.
There are no children out here, only false ones.
If you suddenly get lost, stay very still.
Reblog this post if you are an ACTIVE HETALIA FAN (2022)
I MIGHT BE AN IDIOT BUT I JUST REALIZED THAT APH AUSTRALIA DRESSES LIKE STEVE IRWIN AND MY MIND IS BLOWN. I’M SHOOKETH. ????what...????
Romano: You killed the love of my life!
Spain: I’m the love of your life?
Romano: I don’t know, I’m still angry at you!
Welp, seems like my first post on this damned site is a shitty prucan sketch. Enjoy, u thirsty fuckers
I know that the question was about drawing IN cosplay, but fuck that. Have one of my shitty sketches, this time of the awesome man behind @askthedanishdork. Keep on being amazing!
It’s easy to look and see humans, but they are not.
Most of them try to forget it.
Some of them revel in it.
The rest of them like to pretend the Nordics are like them. Human. Or as close as their kind can get.
Most of the time it’s easy.
But sometimes...
Sometimes you can’t pretend.
Can’t pretend, because Finland speaks with the freezing northern winds as his voice and he’s a winter storm and a summer hail and thick clouds that cover the sky and block out the sun. His attacks are lighting and his heart beats with the rumble of thunder and he perseveres perseveres perseveres, always gets back up, always comes back, and you never see him coming until it’s too late. He dances under the midnight sun and laughs during polar nights and smirks as the rest of the world falls to the biting cold while he stands strong and unbothered.
And Norway, who’s as deep and mysterious as the northern forests, the Scandes, the fjords. He’s crisscrossing leylines and great waterfalls and vast archipelagos. His joints creak like the wood of ancient evergreens as they grow, his innards stained black by stake burnings and dark plagues, his eyes a mirror of the northern lights. He sings with the voice of the stars, the moon, the aurora, and he’ll ensnare you as easily as he weaves his magic and bends the land to his will.
Iceland consciously hides it from the rest of the world, but in the company of a select few they drop their disguise and breathes a sigh of relief. They’re a duality, scorching volcanoes and freezing arctic, hot and cold, fire and ice. Their eyes burn with flames, lava in their veins, bones of obsidian. Their organs are made of ice, their skin like snow and frost lines their throat and lungs. They breathe smoke and frost, cry ice and lava and their hair is snow and ash.
Most of the time Sweden is normal, but sometimes you tilt your head and he’s scintillating water and the creak of oars and fine metal- and woodwork. His bones are iron, like what they mine and mine and mine in Malmberget, and his heart is a patchwork of water and splotches of land connected by bridges, the city of islands, and if you listen very closely as he speaks you can hear the creaking and clinking of the ice and stone in his lungs and throat which at best muddles his words and at worst keeps them deep in his chest.
Even Denmark, the most normal, is sometimes not a man, but a raging bonfire and burning villages. Glinting gold and shining blades and delicate sculptures of glass. His laugh is the crowing of ravens feeding on the flesh of the fallen, his hair tinged red with the blood of his enemies and his eyes are deep blue blue blue, the same shade as the ocean he once tamed and conquered and ruled.
They speak in riddles only they know, whisper of time and places no one else remember, and laugh as the other nations draw back in wariness and fear.
If they wished to play being normal, let them. But where’s the fun in that?
Reblog this post if you are an ACTIVE HETALIA FAN (2020)
Actavis you and I need to have a conversation because what the fuck
Why
The fuck
Is your pill bottles so goddamned big???
That thing is like half the size of my hand and contains thirty tiny ass pills
They barely cover the fucking bottom. You could have made it half that size and still have more than enough space for the fucking pills
W H Y ???
WHATS THE FUCKING POINT???
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Hallo! I am very bad at social media. They/Them, currently skittering around in mostly the Hermitcraft and Submas fandoms, but dabbles in others. You can call me Nix :)
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