#marsh terrifies me now

[thedarkspiresofkredikshaw]

the well of ascension spoilers ! AAA ! ! !

sazed , oh wonderful sazed , found a wall written entirely in terris ? ? what ! ? i 'm sitting here like , whoa . and marsh is like . . marsh : we should fr fr go , sazed . sumn don 't feel right . sazed : NO ! ! ! not yet . this is so important marsh : ok buddy

r they gonna die ? ?

[phantomrose96]

I half expected that Lucy would get into a car accident driving back from the swamp after rejecting god. But a god that won’t leave you alone, like a clingy animal, is a surprising take. Very cool.

Do you think this is ‘the’ God or just ‘a’ god? Like do you think there are other gods with other favorites? Cause she found her god in a marsh and a lot of the accidents involving Lucy were like weather based. Imagine having a god of ‘love’ ruin the interpersonal relationships of people that inconvenienced their favorite.

(God's Favorite)

You know I absolutely did consider the route of "Lucy scolding God makes It turn on her and It uses Its power now to kill her" but I did not actually want to do that because it felt perhaps like a too predictable twist. Like it didn't satisfy me.

The idea instead that God will NOT turn away from her no matter how much she scolds It is, frankly, way scarier to me.

For the sake of this universe I do consider God to be "the" God. 1) because I feel in my ex-methodist bones that I want this to be a spin on the Abrahamic God, and 2) because I think this world feels scarier and more damning if it is THE God who has chosen to favor Lucy and to let so many others suffer.

Like... if this was just 'a' marsh God, then maybe this God is a pesky thing, a one-of-many, who's gotten clingy to Lucy and has enough power to harm other people in the process. ...But if this is THE God? Then Lucy has been chosen above all else, above everyone else. Then the woman with the lit cigarette died in the fire because God of everything, God of all creation, decided It didn't love her. And I find that idea far more terrifying for Lucy.

[margowritesthings]

BITE ME

pairing: Vampire!Arthur Morgan x Human!f!reader word count: 4091 words warnings: 18+ minors DNI, explicit sexual content, explicit language, piv intercourse, fingering (r receiving), biting and blood play, vampire feeding authors note: happy halloween my loves! this is a day late, but time isn't real anyway so we can all just pretend it is yesterday... right?? anyway, this au is now living rent free in my mind. i'm obsessed.

taglist:@cowboydisaster @inkandbloodbound @counteveryfreckle @elifsukirdaghehe @reaveries@delilah-grimes@mrsarthurmorgan7 @twola@the-marsh-harrier @wildfloweroutlaw @photo1030 @luvliewriting@pine4pple-b0i @sickvictorianangel

beta read by @cowboydisaster, divider by @saradika

The wooden panels nailed to the broken windows of the manor allow for tiny slats of moonlight to invade onto your skin, bathing you in a white glow. Peering through the gaps, you can see the distant campfire those bastard Pinkertons set up down by the swamp, but you know they’re surrounding you, boxing you into Shady Belle like fish in a barrel. 

It’s been three days of a stalemate, the Pinkertons keeping their distance, brave enough to come with guns and firepower but just cowardly enough to not advance towards the monster they’ve heard only legend of, lest he rip their throats out and drain their life away. No, they’d rather wait around until they can drag his starved body out and be hailed heroes.

That “monster” sits mere feet away from you leaning against the wall, pale skin paler still, his chin tilted upwards as he fights the weight of his own skull. It’s killing you, watching your Arthur grow weaker by the hour. Three days of hiding out in Shady Belle, unable to leave for fear of being hunted for sport, but it’s been much longer since he last fed. They have you trapped, completely and truly. If Arthur held even half his usual strength, it would have been so easy to escape. He’d have overpowered them in seconds, no matter their numbers or firepower. But for that, he’d need to feed on the blood of another, which has made things much harder.

You try to relax your worried features when you see him start to wake, rubbing the crease out from between your eyebrows formed by the frown you hold whenever you watch him sleep, too scared to look away in case he stops stirring. 

“Arthur…” You whisper on an exhale, quickly moving to sit beside him on the little bed. As always, his skin feels like marble, cold enough to seep through his shirt and scatter goose pimples over your arms. You’re used to the cold, what you don’t like is the thin layer of sweat coating him. Vampires shouldn’t sweat, but they also shouldn’t go so long without feeding, and the thought of this being a symptom of time running out terrifies you more than any number of monsters out camping in those woods.

“Hey, sweetheart…” Arthur shuffles to make room for you, guiding you to rest your head on his hard chest. There’s normally more muscle here cushioning you from his ribcage, but with Arthur so sick you can feel every bone beneath you.

“You get any sleep?”

There’s always the option to lie so he worries less, but Arthur knows you too well for that, so only the truth will have to do.

You shake your head, “Was keeping watch. They haven’t moved, think they’re still shit-scared of you, actually.” 

Absent-mindedly, Arthur’s hand gravitates to the top of your head, stroking your hair in such a way that sends tingles down your spine. Even now, in the midst of perhaps the most danger you’ve ever been in together, his very touch has the power to calm you instantaneously. 

He huffs a laugh, though you notice the slight wheeze to his breath when he does and another pang of worry hits you, “Course they are. Call themselves goddamn hunters, couldn’t catch a cold in Colter…” A pause, where you fill the silence with that tiny little laugh you’ve barely been mustering lately, then, “You should get some sleep, darlin’.” 

“Not tired.” You protest, almost childishly, burying yourself further into Arthur’s chest. In truth, you’re exhausted, and even though he already knows it, you won’t admit it. You can’t tell him that you’re too scared to fall asleep in case you wake up alone, that there’s no point anyway because nightmares of him withering away to nothing here beside you will drag you back awake soon enough. 

You both know this can’t go on for much longer. Something has to be done, and you know you have to be the one to do it. It’s just the convincing… 

“C’mon, baby…” He starts, but you won’t hear it. You’re not going to sleep. You’re going to fix this.

“You have to feed on me.” You blurt out, glad to be nuzzled into your beloved’s shirt so you don’t have to see whatever expression your statement has pulled from him. 

It’s not spontaneous, no sudden solution that has sprung into your mind this very moment. You’ve suggested it before, albeit never so forcefully, Arthur brushing you off like the idea is unfathomable. Explaining that he would never feed from you, terrified he’d lose control and hurt you. He could never hurt you. If there are such things as absolutes, that is one of them, you know it.

“No.” He’s blunt, clearly hoping his tone had enough force to end it there. But you’re strong, your will to keep fighting for him an everlasting force enough to match his. 

“Arthur-” You unravel from him to sit up and meet his eye, yours pleading, his hardened. 

“Darlin’, I said no. I mean it. I promised you I would never hurt ya’, and shit have I broke a lot of promises in my life… but not that one. N-Never that one. No.” 

“You’re going to die, Arthur. If you don’t do this you’re going to die and you’re gonna leave me all on my own to face those bastards a-and,” Dammit, when did you start crying? “And I can’t do it without ya, Arthur you know I can’t-”

“Yes you can-”

“Well I don’t want to!”  You shout, bursting the bubble of quiet around the Manor, your echo riding the wave of birds flocking out of the trees. Sobs threaten to break your strength, but you have to say this. It’s the very last card you have to play. After a few moments, tension between you growing palpable enough to cut with a knife, Arthur closes his mouth, letting you continue. 

“Arthur, you’re all I have left… You think I’m a sharp enough shooter to get by them? Fine. But say I kill ‘em all, then what? Find somewhere to live and carry on? I ain’t… I can’t lose you, Arthur. But I can save you, if you let me. Please.” 

Time feels as though it stops entirely when you see Arthur actually considering your words. Tears streak your cheeks, but your boots could ignite right on your feet and you might not notice in this moment. He looks so tortured in thought, no doubt imagining the life you would lead if you left him behind. He’s sure you’re strong enough, he knows you can do anything, but his heart breaks thinking of you all alone. 

You reach for Arthur’s hands, feeling his cold skin tremble. 

“I… What if I lose control? What if I hurt you? Sweetheart, you know what I get like when I-”

“But you won’t. You know how much blood I can afford to give you, and I know you, Arthur. You’d never hurt me.” 

You elect not to tell him that any blood that runs through your body belongs to him already, your heart pumping it through your veins only for him. 

You don’t tell him you’d die for him, because you know he’d never let you. 

He’s silent, contemplating. 

Please.

Please.

“...You start feeling faint or anything, you fuckin’ tell me, alright?” His tone holds an attempt at sternness, but it bothers you none. You can hardly hear him for the rush of relief flowing over you. 

“I-I will. I promise.” And you mean it. The two of you are two entwined souls, neither trusting the other to have enough will to keep fighting if anything happened to them. 

Arthur takes a deep breath in, almost like he’s giving himself an extra few seconds to back out of this, before sighing it out. 

“Alright.”

The breath that hitched in your throat an age ago releases and you wipe your tears away hurriedly with the back of your hand. 

“Oh, thank you, Arthur…” You’re so ecstatic, so grateful that he’s letting you save him that all you can do is launch yourself over to him, kissing him with all the passion the universe has offered you to gift him. Your hands fall to either side of his face, caressing his marble skin in a way that emits a tiny groan from him. Over the last few days, you’ve cuddled up to him a lot, but there hasn’t been much contact like this. Needy and wanting, loving and layered with everything from I Love You to Let Me Save You. Arthur is a starved man, but not just for blood. For you, body, blood and soul. 

Arthur snakes one arm around your waist, even with his reduced strength still able to pull you over to straddle his lap. You’d have protested, citing that he’s too sick to be holding your weight like this, but now that this is really happening you’re getting kind of nervous, and the thought of being so close to him, arms wrapped around your frame while he feeds on your blood, comforts you hugely. And there’s no backing out, not from this, so straddle him you will. 

Despite everything, Arthur’s cool touch sets you aflame. He trails his fingertips up and down your spine, his other hand firmly gripping your ass. His tongue teases your bottom lip until you open up to him, tasting him as he does you. He tastes…like Arthur. He might argue that he’s some monster, committing evil acts in the name of survival, but you know better. He’s your Arthur, he always has been. 

The world melts around you, leaving just you and Arthur, loving each other, saving each other. That one long kiss breaks into smaller ones, until Arthur is peppering your lips, cheeks and nose with tiny kisses, glistening red eyes welling with emotion.

“It was always gonna be you, wasn’t it? You were always gonna save me…” He whispers, almost like he doesn’t quite believe it’s real.

“Always. And you’re gonna save me right back, cowboy. But first…” You look down between your two bodies, to the arm you’re holding out to Arthur. 

“Are you ready?” 

“Does it hurt?” You surprise yourself with your answer to his question, though you stand by it. You’re not scared, you could never be scared with Arthur. But nervous?

“A little. But I’m right here with you. And if you need to stop or take a break or you start feeling off, tell me or tap my arm.” You nod slowly, placing your hand into Arthur’s, “I need a yes, sweetheart… I can’t do this to you unless you’re sure.”

“Yes, Arthur. I’m sure. Please.”

There is one final, apprehensive glance in your direction, which you reply to with another tiny nod. He raises your flesh to his mouth, flashes of his white fangs visible now in the moonlight as he parts his lips. 

It’s… strange. A small scratching feeling when his teeth puncture the skin of your wrist that pinches your brows together. There’s a second of nothing, before Arthur starts to feed and steals the breath right out of your lungs. 

It’s like you can feel every vein in your body, all connecting and tugging your lifeforce through to your wrist for Arthur to feast on. You can tell the second the first drop hits his tongue, the shudder that wracks through his shoulders and down his spine. His eyes roll back in… pleasure? You’ve seen him feed before, usually such a violent affair, but this is different. You feel vulnerable to him, and as though you hold every ounce of control all at once. 

When he groans, deep carmine eyes locking onto yours, you feel it all over, your thighs clenching around your suddenly wanting pussy. 

… An unexpected side effect. 

Maybe it’s the adrenaline, or the blood rushing around your body, or even the downright ravenous way Arthur is looking at you while he feeds on your blood, but you seem to be physically squirming on the bed, desperate for any kind of friction you can get. Fuck, you’ve never seen anybody react to being fed on like this… Then again, you’ve never seen feeding look or feel like this.

From even the smallest drop of you, what little colour that remains after his change has returned to Arthur’s skin and he looks much closer to alive than just minutes before. He looks himself again, right down to the cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. It does maddening things to you, not at all helping your growing state of arousal. 

When his teeth sink out of your wrist, you watch crimson beads pool at two tiny punctures. Without breaking eye contact with you, Arthur lifts your hand back up to him, running the very tip of his tongue agonisingly slowly over the skin, pulling an honest to god whimper from your parted lips.

“You did so good, my good girl…” Arthur coos, an undeniably pleased look upon his face. He’s told you before, that with his heightened senses, Arthur knows when you want him. You also know how energised he gets after feeding, and how all of these factors are leading to a tension so intense between you you’re almost scared of the outcome.

There’s a smudge of blood on Arthur’s lip, one that you reach out to rub away with your thumb. Quick as the predator he is, he grabs your wrist before you can pull away, slipping your thumb into his mouth and sucking the blood gently off. Upon release, he drags one sharpened fang across the pad of your thumb and you shudder, craving that feeling of the bite more than you truly understand.

“A-Arthur…” You whimper, shuddering in pure anticipation and need. 

“I know, sweetheart… Christ, I knew you’d taste good, but this? Fuck, you’ve ruined me, baby…”

You can’t wait a second longer, certain you’ll perish unless he is kissing you in the next moment. Entangling your grip into his collar, you find Arthur only too malleable to your touch, all but pouncing on you, locking your lips together. His tongue demands entrance as he easily positions you to be laying under him, Arthur covering the entire length of you and thensome. 

“How do you feel, angel?” He asks between kisses, large hands roaming your body, tugging your clothes out of being tucked into each other to make it easier to take them off, “Y’alright? Don’t feel faint?”

“I’m okay. I just- I-I need you, please.” You’re pleading again, this time for very different reasons, “Did you get enough?” 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you, sweetheart…” He growls, pulling the buttons of your shirt open feverishly. And then his lips are back on your skin, kissing your neck, licking at the skin whilst his hands work your zipper. You moan again, some wanton part of you wishing he would bite down again, marking you all over. 

Arthur is losing control in the best way, growling and grinding his erection against your leg as he tries to pull your jeans down. With a little help, he manages, tugging your undergarments with them so you’re completely bare for him. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful… my perfect little feast. Fuck, I’m tortured by every second I’m not buried deep inside that weeping cunt of yours,” At that, he runs a finger over your slit, drenching the tip of his finger in your slick, “but I think you deserve a treat for being such a good girl for me…” 

There’s no time to consider his offer as he plunges two thick fingers deep inside you, curling them, curling them to hit that sweet spot he knows so well. You scream, absolutely loud enough for any Pinkerton vampire hunters to hear.

“That’s it, huh? That what you needed? That pretty little cunt filling?” He taunts, thumb swirling over your already soaking clit. You can’t speak for crying out, but you manage a nod, feeling yourself stretch around a third finger in a way that has your heart racing even faster.

With your pulse pounding, you can really feel the wounds on your wrist starting to ache and burn. It's a strange sensation, but one that seems to blend into everything else in some twisted bout of pleasure.

Arthur must notice your eyes flickering to it, as he guides your hand back up to his lips with the hand not inside you, pressing the softest kisses over the holes in your skin. 

“Look what you did for me… My saviour, my perfect girl…”

“I’d die for you, Arthur.” you confess, the sweetness of his kisses and the languid circles of his fingers pulling you so close to the edge you can feel tears forming behind your eyes.

“It’d never come to that, beautiful. I’d burn the world down before I let your life ever hang in the balance.”

You believe him, too, and the emotion is suddenly too much. You’re hurtling towards an orgasm and you need him closer and all you can seem to think to do is untangle your wrist from his grasp and slip your thumb into his mouth.

He knows what you’re asking for instantly, and you swear you see his inky pupils blow until his eyes are nothing but a reddened void. 

“Oh, my pretty little feast…” He groans, pricking your thumb with a fang and sucking gently at the blood. It isn’t nearly as intense as your wrist, but you still feel that tugging everywhere and you can’t stop the lewd moans that fall from your lips as you come undone. 

Writing, screaming his name, you feel Arthur suck harder on your thumb, moaning himself at the taste of you. It’s not nearly as much as he was taking before, but enough that your blood blooms over his tongue and fills every one of his senses. He is a man obsessed, and it’s the most beautiful sight as you cum for him. 

The waves of euphoria crash over you, each more intense and wonderful than the last. Arthur orchestrates your orgasm through his own pleasure, drawing perfect patterns on your clit in time to his thrusts. 

When you come down, he’s there, releasing you from his fangs again to free his lips for yours. Your lips lock together, his body crushing yours into the mattress. You love the feel of all his weight on you, especially when you can feel every pulse of his throbbing cock through the denim of his jeans. Jeans that must go, so you snake a hand into what little space you can between your bodies to reach for his buttons. Arthur helps you, and he’s soon naked on top of you. Wrapping nimble fingers around his shaft, you run your thumb over the rosy head of his cock, swiping at the bead of precum already leaking. He’s desperate for you, and it drives you wild. 

You’re already guiding him to your soaked entrance, grinding your hips pathetically, needily. Arthur chuckles softly, taunting you with the smallest of hip movements to slide his tip into you, but stopping there. 

“Arthur.” You whine, eyes pleading, cunt dripping for him. Your hands roam the expanse of his back, feeling each muscle twitch under your touch, scratching at the cool skin like a cat in heat. 

“I know, baby, I know… I’ll make it better.” He purrs, finally sliding the entire length of his cock into your heat. It stretches you in that beautiful way only he can and you moan, deep and visceral. Your nails leave white scratches across Arthur’s back as your hands float up to cup his cheeks, pulling him into a deep kiss as his groin presses hard into yours.

“Oh, my beautiful girl… I’m gonna fuck you so hard they’re gonna hear you up in Saint Denis… them Pinkertons out there are gonna think I’m draining every last drop of that sweet blood out of your precious little body.”

Such a violent image, but somehow… you enjoy the thought. You’d bleed for him till the end of time, gladly… you’d lay down your life on a slab and be Arthur’s for the taking. 

You can’t think of the words to tell him how much you want what he’s telling you, letting the passion guide you to bite down on Arthur’s lower lip. A taste of his own medicine. He has no blood of his own to give, but you’re biting down hard enough to have drawn some if he did, dragging another feral grown from the depths of his throat. 

True to his word, with just a few perfectly timed thrusts, you’re screaming his name, cunt fluttering around his thick cock and squeezing every inch of it. That full feeling is so wonderful, so bone-deep and euphoric you’re on the precipice of another orgasm in seconds. He can tell, slowing down and hanging you right over the edge with a wicked grin on his face. You whine and whimper, clawing at the back of his neck to pull him even closer.

“What do you want, little feast? Use your words.” He pushes, still dragging his cock up against your walls in the most torturous of ways. 

“I want… I-I need… I-I… urgh!” You cry out in frustration, each syllable leaving your lips earning another thrust that dizzies you to the point of cock-drunk stuttering. Fuck words. You’ll show him. 

With a strength you didn’t even know you possessed, you pull Arthur closer, guiding him to the crook of your neck. 

“Angel, I don’t know if I can control myself if I taste you agai-”

“Please…” you whimper, rocking your hips up to meet Arthur’s movements, clit grinding deliciously against his pubic bone. 

Arthur’s eyes meet yours and you’re lost in them, convinced you’ve never been held so close to climax for so long before, but your body knows what it wants, what it needs to get there with Arthur. 

“Fuck, if I could die, you’d be the death of me…” Are the last words he speaks before sinking his teeth into your neck, in perfect time with a deep thrust of his cock. You scream, in pain, in pleasure, all of it, finally falling over that cliff and crashing into the waves below. You drown in your orgasm, dragging Arthur down with you as he sucks the sweet ichor out of your veins. With your blood on his tongue and his name on your lips, you cum together. The vibrations of his carnal moans tickle your neck, layering yet another juxtaposing sensation onto you. 

He releases, only to whisper sweet words of praise into your bleeding skin, “Look at you, giving me this… you’re doing so good for me, ain’t ya? My little angel, my good girl…”

And he’s biting down again, and you’re chanting his name, legs wrapped tight around his hips, tears you don’t remember shedding streaking down your cheeks. It feels like you stay there for an eternity, connected mind, body and soul. You would stay there for an eternity with him, if he’d only let you. But that’s another story…

It stings a little when Arthur unleashes his teeth from you, and you wince. His hand is there instantly, caressing the surely reddened skin as his brows pull together, “You okay? I didn’t go too far, did I? Y’feelin’ alright?” 

You shake your head softly, a blissful smile gracing your lips, “I’m perfect.” 

“Damn straight you are.” He remarks, slowly sliding out of you and lowering his weight onto the bed beside you. 

“What about you? How are you feeling?” You ask, entwining your fingers together and holding them up into the moonlight. There's a streak of your blood crossing over a few of Arthur’s knuckles. It suits him. 

“Never better.” He says honestly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Thank you, darlin’. I’ll never be able to thank ya’ enough for what you did, but I promise you I’ll get us out of here alive. Well… y’know what I mean.” 

You giggle, sure you may never get used to the fact that the love of your life is dead. 

“You don’t need to thank me, Arthur. You’ve given me your life a million times, it’s only fair I get to do the same.”

And you mean it. You would do it a thousand times over, giving your life to Arthur while he gives his afterlife to you, saving each other until the end of time. 

[m1d-45]

Alright let me try this again.

What if Reader vented to Birb Xiao, not knowing that it was actually him?

They talk about their fears and frustrations, letting out all the words they've wanted to tell a person, but they have to settle for their pretty bird because no one will listen.

So Xiao is just sitting there, resting in the True Creator's hands, listening as he gets a glimpse of how they truly feel.

They say the milileth is like a raging stampede with their spears and swords. They say how the Qixing all seem so cold and unfeeling. They talk about how Zhongli genuinely terrifies them, because he acted so kind to others but was borderline cruel when hunting them.

They talk about Xiao, too, but they don't seem to have many complaints. They haven't seen him in a while, and the last time they crossed paths with him, he just... let them run. The adeptus had looked angry, but also a bit startled (and perhaps, a bit guilty?) at the sight of them. They even once overheard him leading milileth soldiers astray ("by mistake" says the creator, but Xiao knows the truth) by saying the creator had left a while ago, when really, they were still very nearby. While they say they are still a bit scared of him, they don't fear him as much as they fear the others.

All the while, Xiao sits, still as a stone. He takes in every word, every shaky breath and darting glance. He nuzzles into their hand, hoping to offer even the slightest bit of comfort.

He hopes that they continue to be unafraid of him in the future.

-Sibling Anon

he who is without sin

a/n: decided to make this one a full fic for no reason in particular (i don’t have an actual post shhhh)

word count: 1.1k

-> warnings: imposter sagau things, minor blood mention, spoilers for xiao lore, some spoilers for liyue (like names and titles of people/places)

-> gn!reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay

< masterlist > (has context for bird!xiao if you’re lost)

from the moment that xiao was saved, when his new name was bestowed upon him and he signed his contract with morax, xiao had made a promise. another contract, one without physical ink and paper, one bound to his soul.

one to you, his creator.

a pledge to stand by your side, a clause written in by the god that forged his original contract, releasing him from his duties to liyue to serve the one that had granted him life. a permanent extra sweep to his duties, always on the lookout for the highest god above all.

however, he was not the first to find… ‘you.’

‘you’ had landed in sumeru, nested in the large tree surrounding the akademiya. ‘you’ had climbed down, introduced ‘yourself’ to the sages with a smile. everybody was quick to give ‘you’ the glory rightly the creator’s, ushering ‘you’ atop a throne of silver and gold, offerings laid at ‘your’ feet with all the haste of those deprived of the divine.

xiao may have hung back at the beginning, unwilling to allow his karma to infect ‘your’ other worshippers, but he still did his duty. he still kept ‘your’ path clear of enemies, and was the first to pick up his blade when word broke of your imposter.

and yet, when he laid eyes upon the one he was supposed to hate, he was the first to repent.

xiao took a shaking breath, crossing his arms around himself. “morax?”

the elder god turned, amber eyes soft. “what is it, xiao?”

xiao marched through dihua marsh, polearm gripped tightly in his hand. a large hilichurl camp had been reported, which while not an issue normally, was the third in the last four days.

irritation was openly displayed on his face, the anemo around him simmering with his anger. why did the abyss have to act up now, when they were on a hunt? surely even they, as infected and riddled with darkness as they were, worshipped a god? or was that the source of their evil?

he kept marching north, only turning his head at the sound of a soft gasp.

“how will i know when the creator arrives?”

morax smiled, not upset like xiao had anticipated. “don’t worry about such things. when the time comes-“

you stood on the path branching west, eyes wide. you looked nearly exactly like the ’you’ on the throne, the same cool eyes that called for your death now wide and staring at him in fear.

“-you will know.”

you turned on your heel, your armful of sunsettias tumbling to the floor, but… xiao did not chase you.

instead he brought a hand to chest, under his necklace. he pressed, feeling the still-regular beat of his heart.

he pressed, searching for the place where his karma used to be.

from the moment that xiao realized the truth, when his new duty was bestowed upon him, he had made a promise. another contract, one without physical ink and paper, one bound to his soul.

one to you, his creator.

he flew down from the sky, landing in your outstretched hand. he chirped a greeting, body relaxing under your gentle touch.

“hello there, friend,” you cooed, sitting straighter under the tree. your tree, the one you kept coming back to, the one he always directed other adepti away from because it was for you, not them. not him.

you fed him as usual, but stayed strangely silent. no stories of the kindness mitachurls showed you, no update on how close or far the people searching for you had gotten, none of the usual things he looked forward to. you just… sat. watching him in your hand, an emotion he didn’t know the name of drawing your brows close.

maybe you just didn’t want to talk today? but if something was troubling you, he wanted you to share, to allow him some of the weight off your shoulders. then again, he was just a bird to you…

“do you know ganyu, pretty bird?”

xiao froze, thankful he was facing your palm so you couldn’t see his eyes widening.

“i thought i did.”

he looked up, carefully, daring to meet your eyes. this time, he could pin down what you were feeling: betrayal.

his finch heart burned.

your thumb pet over his wings, but he couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it. not now.

“i thought she was kind.”

she was, he knew firsthand. how she worried over the tianquan, fretted over her skills both with a bow and with a pen, how her and the yuheng kept each other afloat in the sea of endless work assigned to the jade chamber.

you smiled. it was bitter. “i guess i should have known better regarding the adepti.”

xiao’s heartbeat raced in his ears, something hot burning a hole in his chest. he was an adeptus, he wanted to say, he could be trusted.

but you didn’t know him as an adeptus. you knew him as your little songbird, your friend, the one you continued to risk your life for, even if you didn’t know it.

he chirped once, somber. he wanted to apologize, to take up his blade against his own king on your behalf, to walk up to the fraud’s throne and watch them bleed red.

but you didn’t need that. so he sat in your hand, leaning into your fingers, and let you speak.

as it turned out, today had been a busy day for you. you had wandered into the path of a millelith patrol, which had happened before, but not with keqing at the head of it. not when she had darted forward in a flash of lighting, electro arcing along her sword. not when she’d pulled out and blew a special whistle even as you ran, one that you couldn’t hear but could feel under your skin, taunting you as you tried to navigate the maze of bishui plain.

when you told him of ganyu’s frostflake arrows, he wanted to cry. when you described the anger in zhongli’s eyes, he started to weep.

you didn’t deserve this pain. you didn’t deserve having to outrun planet befall, you didn’t deserve to fear your life being stolen by those who should protect you at all costs- he should have been there. he was south, too far south to hear the whistle, but he should have been called.

he should have protected you.

under the shifting leaves of a sandbearer tree, your songbird cried. and you, none the wiser, continued to spell out the cause of his torment.

.

[fuqnia]

Meteor Whispers

craig tucker x reader insert

(❁´◡`❁) | [A/N] hii, this is my tenth and final oneshot that's apart of my ficmas! i wanted craig to be my final oneshot, because I don't really know how to write Craig at all, but I love his character sm ❤️❄️🎄 this is also on ao3!

(❁´◡`❁) | Warning(s) : none

(❁´◡`❁) | Synopsis : Craig takes you stargazing to escape the holiday chaos, and under the meteor shower, you share an intimate moment.

The car rattled softly as it rolled down the snow-covered road, the low hum of the engine blending with the occasional crunch of ice beneath the tires. South Park’s absurd holiday glow was finally behind you, the neon Santas and overdone decorations now just a faint blur in the rearview mirror. The air felt cleaner here, quieter. Like the world had decided to take a breath.

Craig, sitting hunched over the steering wheel, looked about as impressed as ever. His hand rested loosely at the top of the wheel, his other elbow propped on the window ledge as his fingers tapped an uneven rhythm. The glow from the dashboard painted his face in pale shades of green and blue, and his eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead, sharp and focused in that way they always were, even when he seemed completely uninterested in what was happening.

“Christmas sucks,” he muttered suddenly, breaking the silence in his usual flat tone.

You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “That’s the opening line you’re going with tonight?”

Craig didn’t look at you, his gaze still locked on the road. “Just thought I’d set the mood. Y’know, festive and all.”

You grinned, shaking your head as you leaned back in the passenger seat. “You’re a real holiday poet, Craig. Truly inspiring.”

“Don’t start,” he warned, his tone light but laced with that familiar dryness. “I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking. No one actually likes this shit. They just like pretending they do so they don’t feel bad about how miserable they are the rest of the year.”

“Wow,” you said, unable to keep the laugh out of your voice. “Way to ruin Christmas in one sentence.”

Craig shrugged, unfazed. “It’s a gift.”

The car hit a patch of uneven road, jostling you slightly. Craig didn’t even blink, keeping the wheel steady with one hand as the other stayed firmly propped on the window. You caught his profile in the dim light, the sharp line of his jaw and the faint twitch of his lips that might’ve been a smirk—or maybe just a reaction to the cold air seeping into the car. He was impossible to read, as always, but there was something about the way he was sitting, the way his fingers gripped the wheel just a little tighter than usual, that gave him away.

“Okay, but seriously,” you said after a moment, breaking the silence. “If you hate Christmas so much, why are we doing this? You’re not exactly the ‘watch-the-stars’ type.”

Craig let out a soft scoff, finally glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Because being stuck in town right now would be worse. Do you have any idea how many inflatable Santas are in my neighborhood? It’s like walking through a goddamn nightmare.”

You snorted, biting back a laugh. “Inflatable Santas, huh? Truly terrifying.”

Craig rolled his eyes, shifting slightly in his seat. “And don’t even get me started on Randy Marsh. That asshole’s been shouting about his ‘award-winning lights’ for two weeks. Like anyone gives a shit.”

“Pretty sure he’s just yelling into the void at this point,” you said, smiling. “But, hey, maybe he’ll figure out how to power the lights with a backup generator this year. Progress, right?”

Craig snorted softly, the sound almost a laugh, though he’d never admit it. He turned the wheel as the car veered onto a smaller road, lined with snow-draped trees. The glow of South Park was gone now, replaced by the stillness of the forest and the faint outline of stars beginning to peek through the clouds.

The quiet settled between you again, but it wasn’t awkward. It never was with Craig. He didn’t fill silences just for the sake of it, and you’d learned to appreciate that. Still, there was something about this moment that felt different—heavier, maybe. Like he’d planned more than he was willing to let on.

“You’re quiet,” you said softly, breaking the silence again.

Craig shrugged, his gaze still fixed ahead. “What’s there to say? We’re out of South Park. Mission accomplished.”

You smiled to yourself, leaning your head against the window as snowflakes drifted lazily past. “Yeah,” you murmured. “I guess it is.”

For a while, the only sound was the car’s engine and the occasional rustle of branches as the wind picked up. The stars were brighter now, scattered across the dark sky like tiny pinpricks of light, and you could feel the air shift as the road narrowed into a clearing. The trees opened up, revealing a wide stretch of untouched snow, the world quiet except for the faint hum of the engine as Craig pulled the car to a stop.

“We’re here,” he said simply, cutting the ignition.

The silence that followed was almost deafening, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet that wrapped around you like a warm blanket, heavy but safe. You glanced at Craig, who was sitting back in his seat now, his fingers drumming idly on the wheel as he stared out at the clearing. His expression hadn’t changed—blank and bored, the same as always—but there was something softer in his posture now, like the weight he always carried on his shoulders had eased just a little.

“Better than South Park,” he said, his voice quieter this time.

You smiled, pulling your scarf tighter around your neck as you reached for the door handle. “Yeah,” you said softly. “Way better.”

Craig didn’t say anything, but as you stepped out into the snow and felt the cold bite at your cheeks, you thought you saw the faintest hint of a smile on his face. Just for a second.

The air was sharp and still, wrapping around you like a silent reminder of how far away you were from the chaos of South Park. Snow crunching underfoot as you walked around to the trunk, the stars overhead clearer now, scattered across the inky black sky. The clearing was wide and open, the trees framing it like a picture-perfect holiday card. If Craig wasn’t here, he’d probably scoff at how "picturesque" it all was.

The trunk creaked as Craig popped it open, rummaging through the blankets and thermoses he’d packed with an air of complete nonchalance. He slung one blanket over his arm and handed you another without a word, grabbing a thermos like this was a chore and not something he’d clearly planned.

“Wow,” you said, smirking as you adjusted the blanket in your arms. “So prepared. It’s almost like you care.”

Craig glanced at you, “Don’t get weird about it.”

“I’m just saying, you didn’t have to go all out like this,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow. “Blankets, cocoa, the perfect spot for stargazing—it’s suspiciously thoughtful.”

He rolled his eyes, slamming the trunk shut. “Yeah, well, if you freeze to death, I don’t wanna hear about it.”

You snorted, following him as he trudged through the snow toward the middle of the clearing. His boots left deep tracks in the untouched snow, the rhythmic crunch of each step filling the quiet. He didn’t say anything else, just spread one of the blankets out on the ground, motioning for you to sit down like he hadn’t just trekked you out here to the middle of nowhere in the dead of winter.

You settled onto the blanket, pulling the one he’d given you tightly around your shoulders. The thermos was warm in your hands, the faint scent of cocoa wafting up as you unscrewed the lid. Craig sat beside you, his legs stretched out in front of him as he leaned back on his elbows. His breath fogged in the cold air, but he didn’t look cold. He looked comfortable, in his element. Which, of course, made no sense, because Craig Tucker didn’t have an element.

“So,” you said after a moment, breaking the quiet. “Do you have some big speech planned, or are you just gonna sit there and brood all night?”

Craig glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. “Big speech? Who do I look like, Kyle?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Definitely not. But seriously, this is really nice. Thank you for dragging me out here.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, staring up at the sky. His tone was flat, but you noticed the way his fingers tightened around his thermos, the faint twitch of his brow. “Literally. Don’t.”

“Got it,” you said, smiling. “No heartfelt thank-you speeches. I’ll stick to sarcastic remarks.”

“Good,” he said, deadpan. “Wouldn’t want you to ruin the mood.”

The two of you lapsed into silence, the kind of quiet that felt natural instead of awkward. The stars above were brighter now, pinpricks of light scattered across the vast black canvas of the sky. Every so often, one would streak across the horizon, a tiny burst of light that disappeared as quickly as it came.

“Pretty cool, huh?” you said softly, tilting your head back to take it all in.

Craig shrugged. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

“Just fine?”

“What do you want me to say?” he muttered, glancing at you. “That it’s magical? That I’m moved? That I suddenly believe in holiday miracles?”

You smirked, sipping from your thermos. “You could try ‘it’s beautiful.’ Or maybe just admit that you’re enjoying yourself.”

Craig scoffed, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting off a smile. “Don’t push your luck.”

You both fell quiet again, the faint whistle of the wind through the trees the only sound. Craig leaned back further, his face tipped toward the sky, and for a moment, he looked completely relaxed. No snark, no eye rolls, no sarcastic remarks—just Craig, quiet and still, the glow of the stars reflected faintly in his eyes.

“You know,” he said finally, his voice softer than usual, “this isn’t… the worst way to spend a night.”

You turned to him, surprised, but his expression didn’t waver. He wasn’t looking at you, just staring up at the sky like he hadn’t said anything at all.

“High praise coming from you,” you said, smiling.

Craig didn’t respond, but you thought you saw it again—that faint, fleeting curve of his lips. And for a second, it felt like the quiet around you wasn’t just the absence of noise. It was something deliberate. Something that made the stars feel brighter and the cold less sharp, like the world had shifted just enough to make room for this moment.

The clearing stretched wide and open, the snow untouched except for the faint tracks left by Craig’s boots. The stars overhead were clearer than you’d ever seen them, scattered like pinpricks of silver across an ink-black canvas. The silence here was different—not the awkward kind, but the kind that made you feel small in the best way.

Craig leaned back on the blanket he’d spread out, his head tipped toward the sky, thermos cradled in one hand. He’s completely silent now, his usual snark giving way to something softer, almost thoughtful. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen him like this—focused, steady—but it always caught you off guard. Like you were seeing a different side of him, one he didn’t show often.

Another meteor streaked across the sky, bright and fleeting. You couldn’t help but gasp softly at the sight, watching as it burned out against the dark.

“Cool, huh?” Craig said, his voice breaking the quiet. It wasn’t sarcastic this time, just calm and matter-of-fact.

“Yeah,” you said, glancing at him. “It’s beautiful.”

Craig didn’t look away from the sky. “The Geminids are one of the best showers. You can see like a hundred an hour if the conditions are good. No moon, clear skies—it’s pretty much perfect tonight.”

You smiled, wrapping the blanket tighter around your shoulders. “Okay, that was suspiciously informative. You’ve been holding out on me.”

“Not holding out,” Craig said, shrugging. “I just don’t talk about it because people are idiots. They don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

He turned his head slightly, his gaze cutting to you for just a second before flicking back to the sky. “How huge it all is. And how small we are. It freaks people out, so they act like space is just some science class trivia. But it’s not. It’s…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely upward with his free hand. “Everything.”

You blinked at him, surprised. “That’s… actually kind of poetic. Are you feeling okay?”

Craig shot you a look, his expression deadpan. “Don’t ruin it.”

You laughed, settling back beside him. “Sorry, sorry. I mean, you’re right. It is kind of insane to think about. Like, right now, there are planets out there we don’t even know about.”

“Yeah,” Craig said, his voice quieter now. “Or stars that died millions of years ago, but their light’s still traveling to us. The Geminids are dust from a comet that’s probably not even around anymore. It just… lingers.”

You stared at him, caught off guard by the way he said it—calm and unbothered, but with a certain weight behind his words. Craig had always been a bit of a mystery to you, but moments like this made you wonder just how much more was hiding under his usual sarcasm and shrugs.

Another meteor burned across the sky, long and bright, leaving a faint trail in its wake. Craig watched it with the same quiet intensity he gave to everything he cared about, his eyes steady, his expression almost serene.

“You’re really into this, huh?” you said softly.

“Yeah,” he admitted, not bothering to deflect. “I’ve been into space since I was a kid. Probably because it’s quiet. No dumbasses yelling or screwing things up. Just stars and planets doing their thing.”

“Sounds lonely,” you said, tilting your head.

Craig smirked faintly, his lips quirking up at the corners. “Yeah, well, people suck. The stars are consistent. They don’t screw you over.”

The silence stretched again, but this time it felt lighter, more open. You let your gaze drift back to the sky, watching as more meteors flashed overhead. You could feel Craig’s presence beside you, steady and warm despite the cold pressing in around you. He wasn’t a big talker, but when he did open up, it felt like something rare. Something you wanted to hold onto.

“So,” you said after a while, your tone light, “if you weren’t here with me, would you be watching this alone?”

Craig let out a soft scoff, taking a sip from his thermos. “Probably. Or maybe not. Depends on if I felt like dealing with the cold.”

You smirked, nudging his arm. “But you’re dealing with it for me, right?”

He gave you a sideways glance, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t flatter yourself. You just make less noise than most people.”

“Aw, thanks, Craig. You really know how to make someone feel special.”

“Yeah, it’s a gift,” he muttered, but there was no bite in his tone.

Another meteor streaked across the sky, brighter than the ones before. Its light spread across the clearing, casting a fleeting glow over the snow and trees. You turned your head slightly, your gaze catching on Craig. He didn’t move, his shoulders still brushing yours, his head tipped back just enough for the light of the meteor to catch in his eyes.

There was a kind of stillness to him that you couldn’t place, like the world had slowed just enough to let him breathe. His usual tension—the set of his jaw, the way his shoulders always seemed braced for something—was gone. He didn’t look over at you, didn’t fill the silence with one of his usual sharp remarks. He just sat there, his face tipped toward the sky, and something about it made your chest ache.

“Hey, Craig,” you said, your voice quiet, almost hesitant.

He turned his head, his brow lifting slightly, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. “What?”

You hesitated, the words caught somewhere between your chest and your throat. The cold seemed sharper suddenly, biting at your cheeks and the tip of your nose, but it was nothing compared to the heat building inside you. “Can I…” You took a shaky breath, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “Can I kiss you?”

Craig blinked, his face shifting just slightly—not startled, but not entirely unaffected, either. His gaze dropped to the blanket between you, and for a second, you thought he might deflect, make some sarcastic comment to break the tension. Instead, his fingers twitched against the fabric, and he nodded once, barely enough to notice. “Yeah,” he said, his voice softer than usual, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours. “If you want.”

You felt the air leave your lungs, the moment heavier than you’d expected. Slowly, carefully, you leaned in, testing the waters. Craig didn’t move right away. He stayed still, his eyes on you, like he was trying to decide how to respond. But when your lips finally brushed against his, he didn’t pull away. He leaned in, just enough to meet you, his breath catching as your hand brushed against his on the blanket.

The kiss was soft at first, barely more than a tentative touch. Craig’s lips were warm, a stark contrast to the cold biting at your skin. He hesitated, like he wasn’t sure what to do next, but he didn’t pull back. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss just enough to let you know he was with you. There was no rush, no urgency—just the quiet, unspoken understanding between you.

His breath hitched when you shifted closer, the movement drawing a fleeting sound from him that you didn’t think he realized he’d made. His hand brushed against yours again, this time more deliberate, the faint pressure sending a spark through you. The kiss wasn’t perfect—hesitant, a little unsure—but that only made it feel more real. More him .

Craig kissed the way he did everything else: carefully, with purpose, even when he wasn’t entirely certain. There was a steadiness to it, a quiet intensity that made your chest ache. He didn’t push, didn’t fumble or try to rush through the moment. It was like he was letting himself feel it, letting you in, one step at a time.

When you finally pulled back, the world seemed quieter, the cold sharper against your skin as your breath mingled with his in the air between you. Craig stayed still, his face flushed—not just from the cold, you realized—as his gaze dropped back to the blanket. His fingers flexed slightly against the fabric, like he was grounding himself.

“That was…” He trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes lifted to meet yours, hesitant but steady. “Good.”

Your chest warmed at the quiet sincerity of his words. “Yeah?” you asked, your voice just as soft.

Craig nodded, his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. “Yeah.”

You leaned back slightly, giving him space, but you didn’t move far. His shoulder brushed against yours, and he didn’t shift away. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable—it felt warm, like the moment had settled into something solid. Another meteor streaked across the sky, long and brilliant, and Craig tilted his head to follow it, his face calm again.

“You don’t do this much, do you?” you asked quietly, the question slipping out without much thought.

Craig huffed softly, but there was no edge to the sound. “No,” he admitted, his voice steady but low. “Not really. It’s not… something I think about.”

You smiled, your heart softening at the honesty in his tone. “Well, you’re not bad at it.”

Craig glanced at you, his expression unreadable for a moment, before the corner of his mouth twitched. “Thanks,” he said dryly, but there was a faint warmth in his voice that wasn’t usually there. “I’ll add it to my resume.”

You laughed quietly, leaning into his shoulder just enough to feel the warmth radiating from him. He didn’t pull away, didn’t say anything to break the moment. Instead, he just leaned back on his hands, his eyes drifting to the stars.

“I’m glad we came out here,” he said softly, almost like he didn’t realize he was speaking.

You turned to look at him, your chest tightening at the way he said it—simple, understated, but real. “Me too,” you said.

Craig didn’t respond, but he nodded, his gaze fixed on the endless stretch of sky above you. The stars glittered, meteors streaking across the dark expanse in quiet bursts of light. And for the first time all night, Craig looked like he didn’t have anything to guard against. Just him, you, and the stars.

[puddlejumper38]

Wind and Truth thoughts under the cut

Spoilers for the entire book.

-Oof. The ending. I will come back to that, but its first up because its overshadowing everything else like a giant storm cloud. - :( speaking of. Goddamn it, I liked the Stormfather.

-I want to note, right here, that I still do not trust Szeth to make a single good decision. I don't think he should be the law. I hope he goes back to sheep farming and has no power over anyone ever.

-Interestingly, I like Nale better after this book. He was just a terrifying figure before, but now he's interesting as a person too. (He's still scary)

-What The Fuck Was With Moash Getting Spiked? As a devoted Marsh fan, I am against spiking in general. I have no words about how much I do Not like Moash being crystal spiked.

(side note: I think I dislike Moash properly now. Yes, the guy has some points, but.... he continued even with his own emotions. Attacking bridge 4. That's.... thats too far for me. If he'd decided to fight anyone Except bridge 4 I could have dealt with that)

-Saw that Gav was being prepped to hate Dalinar. Was still as tricked as Navani.

-So. We meet Auxiliary and learn what the fuck with Sigzil. I still don't like the Sunlit Man as a book and it coloured how I viewed the Shattered Plains fight here. I do like Aux.

-I trust Ishar even less than Szeth, therapy or no

-I really enjoyed the flashbacks in the spiritual realm. I loved getting all the gaps filled in, finally. (Or most of them anyway.) Also it just felt like WoK in vibes in a way that I just really appreciated.

-Appreciated the trick with Venli on the Shattered Plains. Not... Hmm. Not sure it matters anymore though. We'll see.

-I particularly liked the Interludes here. I remember those took me a while to get used to back in WoK.

-Had seen enough theories to be unsurprised about Shallan's mother being Chana, but I doubt I'd have thought of it myself

-Formless wasn't there! I thought that was off, because Shallan never fully manifested her, but still didn't clock it. I do love that. There's always details in Sanderson's books that I just don't see coming.

-Jasnah's povs... I just didn't like them. Can't quite put my finger on why, but she shouldn't have played by Taravangian's rules in the first place. She lost, but I don't feel like she lost in the way she thinks she did. I hate her lack of flexible thinking and nuance from someone who is supposed to be a good scholar. I liked her better in WoK Prime. We'll see how her book is, years from now.

-Renarin and Rlain's pov's were another real highlight. I was worried about this one, because Branderson - bless his mormon socks - can be as hamhanded as Dalinar sometimes. But this was just very well handled in my opinion. In character, not forced, and remarkably relevant to the overall plot. Nice.

-I should have known as soon as Adolin wanted to see Dalinar again that he wouldn't. That was a major hint.

-Ah shit I should get to Dalinar.

-That could be its own post.

-Kaladin first then. I.... didn't want that for him. In any way. I could see it coming - because fuck knows it couldn't be Szeth and once these ideas are raised something has to happen. But still. Its not good for anyone and I can only hope its more temporary this time. Yes, he gets a bit of a break. No, he has no friends with him. Poor guy.

-All right. Dalinar.

-I have been angry at Dalinar since Oathbringer. I think he's a good character! But yikes. I mean all of the Blackthorn behaviour, not only Evi.

-I did not want him to be Honor.

(actually I don't think I want Anyone to pick up Shards)

-Hey, he's not Honor, though. Anymore.

-INSTEAD TARAVANGIAN IS!! HEY WHY IS THIS HAPPENING

-Cultivation can try to flee all she likes this is still her fault.

-Taravangian of all people.

-It was a Good Ending, its also terrifying for Roshar in the short term - but better in the long term! - and the cosmere in general

-Odium needed to be freed from Roshar, for all the reasons thrown at us readers with all the delicacy of a chull in a china shop in those last few chapters (read fond exasperation here, I Got It The First Few Times)(last few chapters of YatNP were similar)

-Retribution is a little More than just freeing Odium.

-That said; It could never be as simple as one side winning the contest and I'm glad it wasn't. That would've disappointed me.

-So no more Stormlight in the Stormlight Archives?? Well, we'll see.

-And Dalinar is gone. I am sorry for it. It was going to happen in some way or other (I'm not sure taking up a Shard counts as surviving)(I'm not sure being bound to serve Odium would count either). But... I am sorry for it. I'll miss him.

[southangel]

hi! romantic stan and kenny (separate) x reader whos afraid of the dark? like they could be hanging out and then the power cuts off? thanks ! <3

Stan and Kenny with scared of the dark Reader

Warnings: none

Notes: Gender-Neutral, also assuming they’re already dating reader. Sorry for it being a little short!

Stan Marsh

The way I see this happening would be during the very first time Stan invited you over to his house.

After weeks of dating, Stan finally felt ready to actually have you over at his house for the first time, without getting nauseous.

He told you that he wanted you to be over at 6:30 to watch a movie together, the whole time he was mentally panicking and pacing around his room on what to do.

What genres do you like? What if you don’t even like movies, maybe a show?

After you eventually came over and was sitting on the same couch as him, big achievement, light rain started pouring.

None of you minded it, well, not until there was thunder.

Stan could tell you seemed uneasy, so he held your hand, not knowing that it was because of the sky getting increasingly darker over time.

The last thing Stan expected was to hear a quick but loud scream from you as the TV shut off in-front of your eyes.

You unexpectedly grabbed onto his arm, not really meaning to like that. Nonetheless, Stan knew he shouldn’t be so happy at your action considering how terrified you seemed.

A phone flashlight was the best he could do for now, trying to comfort you the best he could even though he really isn’t that type of guy.

The best way that Stan can comfort you is through physical contact and affection, but he doesn’t know it you would be uncomfortable with that or not.

He really does care about you, he just needs to learn how to express it better.

Whenever you both have sleepovers together, Stan always remember to turn on a nightlight or keep a small light on for you just in case.

It would make him upset to know that you’re uncomfortable or scared, so he tries his best to cater towards your fear.

Since then, Stan has tried his best to help you improve and lose your fear of the dark, not caring how long it’ll take.

Stan has also gained a habit of buying you packs of glow sticks, the ones from any dollar store that you snap to light.

He wants you to always have light, in a way where you can remember him without being scared at the same time.

“I want you to think of me when you light these, okay?”

Kenny Mccormick

I feel that Kenny would be more experienced with fears like this.

Kenny has Karen to take care of, so she most likely has a fear of the dark or something similar.

Even though he doesn’t live in the best area or environment, he wants to hangout with you, which is why he invites you over.

Kenny knows that you would never judge him for his lifestyle or being poor, which is why he trusts and loves you so much.

His options were limited, but he didn’t really want to spend another day at Stark’s pond, talking about things you would both forget about the next day.

Once you came over to his house later on in the day, he took you straight to his room without even engaging with anything going on in the living room.

Kenny pulled out a box from inside his closet, revealing a board game for you both to play.

Throughout the game, there were multiple light flickers and such. You thought it was normal, normal until all the lights in his house cut out.

You didn’t know if it was the weather, problem with the electricity, or even the bills not being paid, but the cause didn’t matter as you immediately reacted.

Kenny saw how your reaction shifted playing parts on the board, shaking and speaking in an unsteady tone.

He moved over and took you into his arms, trying his best to comfort you as much as he could.

Even though Kenny was still hooded and you couldn’t really understand what he was saying, it made you feel more comforted for some reason.

Kenny would be the best at comforting you with his words and actions, even though he’s more of a physical affection guy.

He cares about you a lot, a lot to where he saved all of his money to buy you a small but portable flashlight.

Since then, you and Kenny’s relationship has grown closer, and you love how he’s considerate enough to do these things for you.

Don’t worry, you paid him back for the flashlight.

“I know it’s not much, but I want to help you as much as I can.”

[tiniedemon]

. . .

poly headcanons

stan marsh & kyle broflovski

— it’s a constant battle

— kyle and stan are always competing for your attention in one way or another

— if kyle gets you a gift, stan has to get you two, and vice versa

— stan takes you out, kyle has to take you somewhere nicer

— you caught on after a little while and started using it to your advantage

— anytime you got into an argument with one of the boys, you’d ‘demote’ them

— “kyle, you’re pissing me off. i’m demoting you. stan’s my favorite boyfriend now”

— your relationship is still somewhat functional, though

— kyle’s a passionate hotheaded asshole, stan’s an emotional lovesick puppy, and you’re like the balance

— anytime the boys argue you have to break it up or they fist fight

— anytime you argue with one of the boys the other one kicks back with popcorn

— when there’s a truce, things are at their best

— there usually aren’t too many problems unless one of the boys feels like you love the other one more

— then you have to comfort them, reassure them that your love is equal, and spend the day cuddled up with both of them equally

— it isn’t really a problem with stan and kyle showing each other more attention than they show you

— you know at the end of the day that their love for each other doesn’t mean they don’t love you just as much

— they’re mostly just equally terrified you’ll leave them

— kyle cooks, you clean, stan gets control over ambience music

— said ambience music is divorced dad rock

— kyle drives, stan rides passenger, you get backseat and aux

— stan plays sad music in the car, not fun music

— so kyle took his aux privileges

— cuddle time consists of you in the middle, stan wrapped completely around you, and kyle letting you lay your head on his chest

— you all take turns choosing content for movie night

— also applies to shows you binge together

— kyle’s a firm believer in acts of service, stan’s more of a physical touch kind of guy

[corporatefrog]

꒦‧₊ ꒷ team stan with a secretly ripped reader [headcannons]✧.*

✧.* tags: fem!reader, college au ✧.* Characters: kenny mccormick, kyle broflovski, stan marsh, butters stotch a/n: i think kenny's section is so funny please think it's funny too. actually i think they're all funny idk what im saying im hilarious

masterlist

Kenny

You probably reveal your strength one time when saving him from dying

After that’s he’s obsessed

Dude he definitely loves muscle mommys 

Buff women??? Sign him UP 

throw him across the room DO IT

Asks for uppies 

“Can you carry me to my next class?”

“I take off my sweatshirt one time and suddenly your legs are broken?”

“Yeah my legs just turn to jello whenever im around you” 

You make him walk. 

Butters

He is so in awe of you

But also terrified of you

“Oh merciful goddess, please spare our stupid male lives! We know not of your true divinity!”

“Butters get off the ground wtf.”

You need ANYTHING he is on it.

Now whenever he tells you about Eric being a dick to him, Eric is TERRIFIED because he can hear you from a mile away

Butters defender #1 right here

Stan

Bro is ENVIOUS

He tried to have a gym rat era but got annoyed with having to fit things in his schedule after a few days

He had to miss BOARD GAME CLUB for a gym session and that was unacceptable 

So you’re basically everything he wants to be

Probably asks what your workout routine is

Tries to copy it and gets a leg cramp halfway through the first bulgarian squat

Spends the rest of the day laying in bed thinking about how strong you are

Kyle

He is so confused

It doesn’t add up that you’ve been this ripped the whole time and not ONCE used it to your advantage

Him and stan tried to get buff at the same time

Kyle had more dedication than stan though

And now you’ve got a gym buddy 

He’s definitely not good at building muscle mass

But it’s a good place to relieve stress

Just thinks about how much he hates cartman the whole time and it powers him for at least an hour and a half of GAINS

[darkanddirtyknb]

Personal Update

Hello, my beautiful like-minded creatures in the flesh,

It’s been a while since I gave an update, and I thought one was long overdue. If I’m wrong about this and you don’t care to read about my personal life (I really don’t blame you), please go on about your day. I hope it’s a great one! If you are interested, I will clue you into what’s been happening.

As usual, I have already had many medical appointments this year and many more to come. I had a procedure done on my right shoulder last month (happy July, by the way!) to see if we can get a steroid concoction to help me. If it doesn’t (it’s been touch and go so far), I will need to have a different, more painful procedure done. I’m still playing around with medication, trying new things, getting new side effects, and finding out that my body is pretty much anti-all pills. It’s super frustrating, to be honest. I’m all for being clean, and I think that less is usually best, but in my case, I’m getting no relief anywhere. I’m not sleeping. The brain fog is worse than ever, my memory is awful, joint pain, neuropathy, and muscle fatigue are worse, etc… All in all, the physical stuff is different in a few ways, but pretty much the same.

However, I’ve been in a down spell with my mental health. The depression lately has been impressive, really. I work hard daily to stay positive and keep my head above water, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t back-breaking work. That alone makes it hard to be productive, but I’m forcing myself to do things—it’s unfortunate because writing hasn’t been one of them. I want to, and the urge is there, but my memory and ability to form sentences are making it extremely hard, and writing seems impossible right now. Even writing this has been a journey and not a good one. Very bad, in fact. Think boggy marsh full of mosquitoes, mud-filled shoes, and sweltering, humid heat. I’m working hard to get out of the swamp and onto a tropical island, but until then, this is where I’m at—overrun by anxiety, depression, and medical hang-ups. I’m working with my therapist, though. Soon, I will be starting EMDR. That should be fun. I’ve been touching on a lot of trauma lately, so hopefully unlocking all of it and putting it in the right place will help me move forward.

There’s more, but I think you’re all smart cookies, and you got the gist of things. This update has become long enough. I hope that you’re all doing well by staying happy, healthy, and living life to its fullest! I mean that. Truly. I care about all of you, even if we don’t talk much or at all in some cases.

Take care and be safe. The world is as terrifying as it is beautiful right now.

With all my love, Kai (your local disturbed homo)

[thaidakar-is-hot]

Finished Alloy of Law today

And lemme tell you the emotion I get at the very end when Marsh speaks to Marasi... He's just so tired, but he's still dramatic and funny. Marasi is terrified of him and he's just name dropping people from legend to her. "He does my brothers work..." Like oh my Harmony... I just love it. The love in those words. And when Marasi asks why he didn't give the book to Wax himself... "I believe he'd try to shoot me." It would be funny if Wax tried to shoot a steel inquisitor. Listening to Shadows of Self now. This book I love. Alloy of Law is alright, I don't hate it, but Shadows of Self really stands on it own. The reintroduction of Hemalurgy...The fact that Spook and Co didn't necessarily agree with Sazed, the fact that Sazed let them, etc etc. I'm just such a fan of it all, it gives me so many ideas, and it's been fun thinking of how the GB's have worked with the various books. They were obviously aware of the Vanishers. They were probably aware of the Set backing. The aluminum they stole was probably sold by the GB's to the victims. As for Bleeder...Sazed was probably very closed lipped about it being a Kandra, but they would have found out. I like to imagine Mauve and Kelsier going out together in disguise to try and diffuse some tension. Hiring skilled soothers to dampen anger. But at the same time...These two are ancient. Rioting is something they'd be accustomed too.

[magicaldragons]

I am really interested in the fics you are writing for salaar! they are amazing! wondering what are your hcs or fic ideas that you want to write or see written?

hello! and first off, thank you so much ♡

ahh, so! headcanons, damn. my headcanons are mostly psychology based, and i usually type them out as they come to me, but the ones on my mind lately have been:

Varadha admired Radha Rama as a child, and made an effort to get her approval, but it never worked out because she was entirely apathetic

Bharava seduced Radha Rama (because he wanted a seat in court and to be an insider) and once it happened, they gradually grew distant, and Radha Rama didn't completely understand why, till she learnt of his betrayal

Varadha is basically a "princess Diana" character, fucked over by those closest to him, but adored by most of those among the kingdom [this isn't even a headcanon, it's plain canon]

Khansaar definitely has some beaches to the Southwest, and the Rann of Kutch extends into Khansaar, so there's these salty marshes too, but the Ghaniyaars occupy most of that territory, with the Mannars mostly inland, and the Shouryaangas centered towards the east, which would leave them at a disadvantage, but since they're the stronger tribe, it all works out.

Baba is closer to Varadha than he is to Baachi (i've got an upcoming analysis on this + baachi & varadha's relationship)

Varadha lost Mahara in a fight/challenge of some kind (not necessarily physical), and all he has left is Pathran.

there's more, now that i think about it, but for now we'll leave it at that xD

as for fanfics:

• so, before any of my other fic ideas, i had this visual of deva, brought to khansaar after stopping the seal, and with shackles that he could easily break out of at any point. everyone in the room knows he might be armed after the whole gun show and the dozens of bodies they have to show for it. varadha asks his men to search deva, but they slink back, terrified of the consequences. varadha, irritated, sends them all out. cue a quiet, guilt-ridden deva – and an exhausted, seething, varadha, just verbally tearing into him: each. deliberate. word. dripping with hatred. while feeling deva up for weapons. yeah. guilty pleasure. it might end up being part of s&o or a standalone fic if i feel like it

• after i get to a comfortable place with s&o, there's another fic almost ready to see the light of day: comprising royal assassin! deva & prince! varadha (ask me if you want a summary/teaser, oof, it'll make more sense, if you'd like to know more)

• an au with twins! deva & devaratha and dancer! varadha (this one's plot heavy, and also involves magic)

• there's a futuristic au that i'm working the plot out for currently

• this fic

• and of course, the extension of 'distance' that i'm still hashing out the details for

(and regarding fics i want to see written, i will eat. up. anything, though i do have a fondness for angst)

but yes, that's most of it! if you read through all of this, then thank you xD i did not know it would get this extensive

much love, rey <3

[pinkydevil16]

JJ Maybank x reader

No one had expected JJ Maybank to have settled down, especially his friends who had known about his feelings for Y/n, a fellow pogue but they thought it would be a quick shag and then he'd have the feelings gone. Wanting the chase more than the prize, so they weren't surprised when they found them tangled in the sheets passed out drunk and naked the next day when they found it again they shrugged. By the next month when JJ brought Y/n flowers he'd picked at figure 8, almost getting beaten up by Rafe in the process as he stood with a massive grin as Y/n rolled her eyes and smacked him up the head for being reckless, they were confused. When JJ beat the crap out of someone for grabbing at Y/n they weren't surprised, he always protected his friends, he'd done it for Ki and Sarah before but this was different, the way he grabbed Y/n and checked her over. The change in his eyes when he felt the relief of her being unharmed, the way he looked at the guy on the floor, not caring if they were pogue or kook just that they'd touched Y/n. John B tried to talk to JJ, but he just gave a shrug and grin, they were having fun, nothing serious. Except that neither of them were sleeping with others, talking to others or entertaining anyone else, spending spare time together and the obvious looks between them that the other pogues exchanged looks at. 

"So...you and JJ?" Sarah tried to open the conversation, Y/n giving her side eye before looking away, trying to avoid the conversation. Ki nudging Sarah as they exchanged looks, not sure how to get her to talk.

"I saw he was talking to a touran the other day." Y/n's head snapping at that, scowling at the two as they smirked knowing she couldn't deny it now.

"Okay fine, me and JJ are...i don't know what we are but we agreed not to y'know...talk or shag anyone else. We're just going with the flow and enjoying what's happening." Y/n looking away as she pushed her hair behind her ear, wanting to hide her blush at the thought of her and JJ being together. It was still shocking to her, she'd expected to wake up alone the next day and JJ to pretend it never happened, instead he'd been a nervous wreck telling her he liked her. Neither of them wanting to admit they were together, it was something that meant everyone knew and it was terrifying to think that everyone would be in on the secret. They were care free, not feeling trapped or tied down but knowing they were secure in each other, knowing they were each others and that no one was going to swoop in and ruin it.

JJ struggled with wanting to call Y/n his girl, but he knew it would mean that she could be used against him, his dad had caught on at one point, making a comment that had frozen JJ's blood and terrified him. He wasn't someone who committed to relationships, he barely went back to the same girl and to actually be able to have someone, he didn't want to mess it up, his biggest fear to lose her because of his own stupidity. Wanting to protect himself from the fear of being hurt, he could take it physically but he didn't know if he could handle if Y/n decided he wasn't worth it anymore. Y/n feared the same, she liked JJ, more than any other guy she'd ever dated or slept with, more than she'd admit to anyone. She knew he wasn't someone who committed, she'd weighed up the pros and cons in her drunk mind and decided she could handle the pain if she got one night to indulge her crush. 

JJ wasn't having much luck with the guys, on the HMS pogue whilst the girls were at the chateau waiting for them to get back, and being on a boat with no where to escape meant Pope and John B could interrogate JJ easily.

"Alright, what's going on?" John B started, JJ pretending not to hear him until Pope placed a hand on his shoulder,  JJ looking around and realising he couldn't even swim off shore since they were along the marsh with only greenery around them. 

"Well we're on a boat, going back to the chateau." JJ tried to play it cool, he knew what they wanted to know but he was trying not to think about it, he wanted to ask Y/n out properly but was scared she'd say no. 

"Don't be stupid you know what we mean." Pope grinned as he looked at JJ, stopping the boat as the two sat next to him, JJ pushing back his hair and covering his face with his hat.

"Nothings going on, we're just having fun and-" John B throwing a pebble at JJ as he spoke, interrupting him.

"JJ! Come on we all know you're not just macking. You've liked her for years and you think we'll believe you're not dating?" JJ looking at his best friend with pursed lips.

"We're not dating...just yeah. I don't know, i want to ask her out but she likes that we're being casual." Pope rolling his eyes as he pushed JJ.

"You two aren't being casual, you've both stopped any form of flirting with others and you beat the crap out of Rafe for trying it on with her. That isn't casual, that's dating." JJ looking at John B as he nodded agreeing with Pope, groaning as he leant back not wanting to think about it. They were right, he was basically dating Y/n and he just needed to grow some balls and ask her. 

Y/n waited for the boat to come in, JJ jumping off and tying it quickly as he ran towards Y/n, both of them grinning but filled with anxiety as they got closer until they stopped, almost close enough to touch.

"I wanted to-"

"We need to-

"You talk-"

"You-"

"No you-"

"You go-"

Both of them laughing as they tried to talk, JJ putting his hand over Y/n's mouth as her eyes widened, his face flushed and body buzzing with nerves.

"I just...i need to say this or i'm going to explode." Y/n grinning as she nodded pushing his hand off her mouth as he took a deep breath.

"I like you, and i mean a lot, like i want to shout about it and make sure everyone knows. And i...i want you to be my girlfriend...but only if you want to, obviously." JJ waited for Y/n's response as she rolled her eyes laughing with a side grin, grabbing his shirt and pulling him into a kiss. His eyes widening as Y/n pulled back, smirking at him.

"Took the words right out of my mouth. So now that we're official...want to go shag on the boat?" JJ laughing as he grabbed her arm, pulling her past John B and Pope who grinned thinking they were going on a date. 

[angelicyouth]

Youth ; Chapter 4

⇢ pairing: kenny mccormick x marsh!reader x craig tucker

⇢ synopsis: ❝Growing up with the boys as the sole girl of the group, it was only natural for them to grow protective over their pseudo-little sister as the years went by.❞

⇢ warning: underage drinking

⇢ [AO3 link] ; [series masterlist] ; [previous] ; [next]

All my life, I’ve always found beauty in chaos. It has its way of following the boys and I around, constantly looming over our shoulders—overcast but responsible for many precious memories. When it becomes overwhelming, the knowledge that we’re always in it together makes everything seem smaller and possible.

This is the first time I’ve faced it alone.

Because growing up, you learn about two people loving each other. It’s impossible not to when it’s etched into our everyday lives—romcoms on the television, love songs on the radio, my mom and dad at home. The sacred marriage is traditionally shared between two and so, a variation of it hasn’t been discussed in the small redneck town of South Park.

I became terrified that there was something wrong with me, that I was terribly sick and in need of help. Because as far as I knew, no one else felt the same way. It scared me enough to the point where I just tried to suppress it, ignoring it in hopes that it’d somehow resolve itself and disappear. It’s frightening to think of because everyone wants someone to love and cherish. I knew I was different and I was scared.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

When the girls delivered the news of my acceptance into the cheer team, I informed them of my commitment right away. This decision would’ve been surprising a month ago but it was an excellent method of distracting myself. Although I was initially bummed out at how lonely I felt when the boys became busy with football, not having to make an excuse to get some space from them turned out to be a godsend. Granted, they still didn’t know about cheer because our practices lined up perfectly.

The announcement of the first football game coming up led to excitement throughout the school but for me, it unknowingly set the gears in motion to ruin. It started with throwing myself into cheer, forcing myself to unhealthily strive for perfection. Coming home tired, I’d then immerse myself in homework. Pages upon pages of supplemental material that was not mandatory were then consumed when the upcoming coursework was finished. Sleep became rare because lying down in bed, waiting for sleep to overtake me allowed enough time for unwanted thoughts to consume my mind.

I felt numb, as if I was watching myself from the outside, screaming at myself and trying to take control but unable to. Stuck on auto-pilot, going through the motions of everyday life: school, practice, homework, repeat. My memory became hazy, tunnel vision forcing me to just forget. It started off small and back then, it was manageable. But now I feel like I’m floating, lost and alone.

Seeing the red mark on my paper, the low number felt like it was mocking me. My hands begin to clench in frustration, creases ripple throughout the offending material until small tears upon it begin to form. What use am I when I’m already so sick, if I can’t even get good grades with all the time spent forcing myself on books?

A failure, is what.

Disgusting, even.

Repulsive.

I shakily turn the doorknob, lightly closing the door behind me lest I make a sound. I rummage, digging deeper until I find the temporary salvation I’m looking for. Nervous tremors reverberate along my hand as I don’t want to get caught. Searching and searching until shaking digits feel smooth glass, cold yet inviting.

My brother’s hidden alcohol stash.

The amber liquid burns down the length of my throat, the stinging a welcome feeling because I deserve the pain. This is what I needed and although temporary, I finally feel a sense of euphoria. Laughter emerges through the hurt, steadily growing louder and louder. There’s this near overwhelming feeling in my chest and I feel drunk on happiness until my body starts to rack in erratic shudders. I’m sobbing, I realize.

I want to curl in on myself and die in the safe confines of my bathroom but I feel bile start to slowly rise in my throat. It feels like I’m throwing up my intestines but it’s nothing but stomach bile from the lack of food. I hunch over the toilet bowl, my head aches and my chest feels so heavy. I cough and try to loosen up the tightness I feel in my ribcage but nothing helps, tears continue making their way down my cheeks.

I feel so mangled, like nothing makes sense anymore. I feel utterly lost, like I’d have a better chance at surviving in a scorching hot desert by myself than this. I’m in such a state of oblivion that I don’t notice the crowd beginning to form in the bathroom. Hands grasp at my shoulders until I tiredly pick up my head from the toilet seat, not caring about how disgusting it is. How disgusting I am.

The toilet flushes and a hand softly wipes my mouth with tissues before a new one is gently patting my cheeks dry. The action proves to be futile as tears continue to pour, relentless in escaping the confines of my tired red eyes. These hands are taking care of me in a way that is so nurturing and tender that I can’t help but to feel like I don’t deserve this kindness. I weakly lift a hand and try to swat the person away, shame filling me to the core.

“Shh, it’s okay.” I’m somehow able to make out Tweek’s worried form from the tears blurring my vision. The boys are behind him and the amount of bodies have them spilling out of the door frame. They’re all watching the scene in front of them in horror, completely lost and feeling useless.

“Leave me alone.” I babble hysterically. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this. I especially don’t want to see any of them. I only did this because no one was home, my parents out for date night. No one was supposed to be here.

The edge of cool glass touches my lips and I see that Butters is trying to gently urge me to take a sip of water. I don’t relent, my cries echo into the bathroom as the blonde’s other hand rubs soothing circles onto my back. Ripples of water touch my lips but I don’t allow them entry as sobs rack my entire body.

“Y/N, breathe.” I hear multiple voices in the background and I can’t discern who anyone is because this all feels like a dream, like a nightmare. I clench my eyes shut in a pathetic attempt to stop the tears.

I sob, “D-d-don’t touch me, you’ll get sick too.”

“It’s alright, baby. It’s probably just the flu or something.”

“No! N-not the flu.” I go back to hunching myself over the toilet bowl, bringing my arms up to settle my head into.

“What is it then, N/N?” I just shake my head in shame, my knee knocks over an empty can of beer in the process.

“We can’t help you if we don’t know what's wrong, babe. Tell us what’s wrong.”

I don’t respond, merely shaking my head again.

“You being sad makes me sad. Please, what’s wrong? We just want to help you feel better.”

Hands try to help guide me into a standing position but I let out a whine, refusing to budge. A sigh can be heard and I peek my head up to see my brother. He looks as lost as I feel.

“Will you at least talk to one of us if the rest of us leave?” He softly says and I feel bad, guilt consuming me. This is my problem, none of them should get dragged into it. Yet here they are, always sticking their noses into places they don’t belong.

I shrug.

“Y/N. Please.”

I burrow myself back into my arms, “Kyle.” I lowly mutter out.

Kyle, to me, is someone that I’ve always known to be both logical and empathetic. He’s a great older brother to both Ike and I, a person anyone can depend and rely on. He gives the best advice and his perspective on things always helps broaden mine. He’s always there to listen to me talk about anything or nothing at all.

Shuffling can be heard as everyone hesitantly disperses from the bathroom, the door shutting lightly behind them. I feel someone settle themselves behind me on the floor, their legs on either side of me. When I see that it’s the person I requested, I allow his arms to guide me into his caring embrace, leaning my head onto his chest.

He kisses the top of my head, and softly asks into tufts of hair, “What’s wrong?”

“Something’s wrong with me.” I hiccup.

“There’s nothing wrong with you... You don’t have to tell me now, okay? Just take your time. I’m here for you and I’m not going anywhere.” His arms tighten their hold around me.

I indulge myself in his comfort and burrow my face into the crook of his neck, seeking out his warmth against the contrasting cool tile lying underneath us. He doesn’t say anything when my sticky cheeks touch his skin.

“I love you.” He reassures me quietly despite the silence of the bathroom around us.

“And it hurts me to see you like this.” His voice cracks, making me feel worse. The kindness feels suffocating, consuming my body until I start to quickly gasp for air. Tears of frustration picks up, messily spilling their contents down already irritated cheeks.

It pains me to do this to the people that care, to push them away and hurt them when all I want is to surround myself in their solace. I try to speak up, babbling as hiccups start to rack my entire body.

“I can’t understand you, love.” Kyle softly says, “Take a deep breath, please.”

I desperately try to get some more air into me, one of my hands shoots out to shakily clutch at the material on his chest in an attempt to ground myself. “You’re doing good. Keep taking deep breaths for me, okay?”

I feel myself steadily calming down as I allow his soothing voice to guide me, focusing on the feel of fabric underneath my fingers, “There you go. Good job, beautiful. Tell me, what’s going on?”

“I’m sick.” It hurts me to say this because verbalizing my thoughts and feelings will speak it into existence, confirming that this is definitely real and that it’s actually happening.

“You’re not sick, N/N.” He patiently reassures me, his words of affirmation encourage me to continue.

“I am, Ky. I am. I’m disgusting.” I bitterly laugh, reciting the self deprecation I’ve been internalizing lately.

“No one thinks that of you, but tell me why you think you are.” I’m terrified to tell him and for Kyle to start hating me but I need to tell someone before I drive myself insane.

“I… I think I lo-... I think I like two different people… No, I know I like two different people.” I clench my eyes close, anxiety coursing through me as I await for his response. My heart beat starts picking up in pace and my hands begin to get clammy.

“... I don’t think I’m following. What's wrong with that? People have crushes on multiple people all the time.”

“No, no. It’s different.” I hesitate but with liquid courage still flowing through me, I decide that it’s now or never. “I think I like… Uh… Kenny… And Craig… Kenny and Craig… Yeah.”

It’s quiet for a moment too long and I start to worry.

“Wow, uh. I’d rather you not like anyone at all but I guess I’m just glad that it’s people I know and trust. This is still surprising though, I think I’m having a hard time processing this because I don’t think I’ve ever heard of you liking anyone.” It feels like a weight has been lifted off of my chest at the ushanka wearing teen’s words, his reaction a lot more mild than what I was expecting.

“You still don’t get it, Ky. Kenny and Craig. They’re not just crushes. I like them. Both of them, at the same time.”

“Okay, and?”

“It makes me feel bad… It makes me feel guilty because if for some reason, one of them were to ever like me back, I’d hate to ruin the years of friendship we have. To ruin the group dynamic and make things awkward if something were to happen.” I quietly confess.

“But most of all, I feel like I’m cheating on the other, I guess. I feel selfish. I know I’m not dating either of them but emotional cheating is still a thing. When I share a moment with one of them, I think about the other and feel terrible. I feel disgusting. I think to myself: how can I do this to him? It doesn’t feel fair to either of them. They don’t deserve that. They don’t deserve me. They deserve to be loved by someone who can wholeheartedly commit themselves to just them, someone who can devote all of their love to them.” My breathing starts to slowly increase as I continue, revealing my biggest concern and the current bain of my existence.

“How do I feel all of this for two people at the same time? What’s wrong with me, Ky? This makes me feel like a bad person but I can’t help what I feel for the both of them. I tried, and it won’t go away no matter what I do. Am I a bad person, Ky? Am I selfish?” Gasps of air start to resound the once quiet room as I struggle to inhale in my steadily mounting hysteria.

“Hey, hey. Everything will work out. Remember to breathe.” He patiently waits until I’ve calmed myself down.

“I can see why you’d feel that way. It’s completely valid but I think you’ll be just fine. The friendship between all of us isn’t that fragile and it’d take a lot to break it, so don’t worry. I’m actually kind of offended that you think so. If that were true, we would have dropped fatass a long time ago.” I lightly smile at the ginger’s words. Making fun of Cartman always cheers me up, it never fails.

“As for Kenny and Craig, I can’t say for certain on what's to happen. But I really don’t think you should feel guilty since you’re not officially committed to either of them. I think this just means you have a lot of love in you to give. And if it ever comes down to it, just be honest. Communicate.” He peers down at me, flashing me a warm smile in reassurance.  

“I just know that life gives us hard times, but you’re strong N/N. You’re gonna get through this and you’ll get through this with all of us because we love you and we care for you. You only feel so bad because you care about the both of them so much, pretty girl. They’re both so lucky to have you, we all are.” His grin grows wider, pearly white teeth making their appearance.

“... You think so?”

“Yup, I know so. We’re okay. You’ll be okay. We’ll always be okay.” He kisses the top of my head, gently squeezing the arms around me tighter.

“I’m so proud of you for telling me. And I’m so proud of you for being honest with your feelings. I know it must have been hard. I love you.”

“I love you too, Ky.”

When Kyle and I exit the bathroom, we’re surprised to find the guys waiting for us out in the hallway in worry. I apologize for worrying them as Butters and Clyde pull me into their arms, Tweek nervously hovering nearby for his turn. I catch Kyle’s eyes over the blonde’s shoulder and he tenderly smiles at me, miming himself zipping up his lips and I smile.

Stan doesn’t mention me making a dent in his precious stash and for that, I’m thankful. When he’s not looking, I hide a blunt in between his clothes to find later. That night, I sleep with my older brother, his arms wrapped around me and my head to his chest listening to the other half of me.

I’m going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

The day that everyone has finally been waiting for has come: the first football game of the season. Although things have gone back to normal (well, as normal as South Park can be) and I don’t need the distraction anymore, I’m still a member of the cheer team. And as a cheerleader, I’m required to wear the uniform to school as today is an official game day.

I leave the house early, before my brother even wakes up, and I catch a ride to school from Wendy. To my luck, there's a student council meeting today which is typically held an hour before school starts. I decide to take the time to wait it out in the library, seeking solitude in the quiet space. I know that the boys will eventually make the discovery but I’m going to do whatever I can to prolong the reveal.

My anxiety steadily climbs up as the time goes by and I wait until there’s just enough time to barely make it to class before the bell rings. I share homeroom with all of the boys and it’s the only class with all of us in it.

Adjusting my cheer bag, I take the time to correct my crooked bow and flatten my white, green, and black skirt. After scanning my appearance a final time in the bathroom mirror and making sure that everything is in place, I exit to see that there are only a few late stragglers in the almost desolate hallways. This prompts me to finally make the journey to class as no more detours can be made any longer.

I stare up at the door, my last barrier to the boys, and I silently curse at myself as I dreadfully realize that coming as late as possible means that all eyes will be on me when I make it through the door. I slowly push it open and take a tentative step into the classroom right as the bell rings, keeping my head down in a mixture of embarrassment and anxiety. But before I can get any step closer to my desk, the teacher calls me to his and I wince at my horrible luck.

“Ah, Ms. Marsh. A second please? Your science teacher received an assignment with no name on it and she wanted me to ask if it was yours. It looks like your handwriting so if it is, could you please write down your name on it? She won’t be here today so she left it with me yesterday. Hold on, let me look for it.” The teacher informs me, rummaging through the papers on his desk.

“Now, I know it’s here somewhere…” I internally scream at him to hurry the fuck up.

It’s quiet as the class waits for the morning announcements, only a few hushed conversations can be heard here and there as I awkwardly wait. The seconds go by and when I chance a glance at the clock on the wall, I can spot the guys from my peripherals. I’m presented with varying reactions of raised eyebrows or exaggeratedly dropped mouths. My cheeks redden and I quickly turn my head back to the teacher, fidgeting in place. When I get to my seat, the droning of the teacher gets interrupted as I feel a vibration from my pocket.

GROUP CHAT (EVERYONE)

ICantBeliveItsNot (Butters): thank you so much for helping me with my math hw, kyle! you’re such a thot :) <3

ElfKing (Kyle): I’m a WHAT??

ICantBeliveItsNot (Butters): a thoughtful person? eric taught me a new slang yesterday :3

HawkEyes (Clyde): Y/N!!!

HawkEyes (Clyde): UR IN CHEER?

HawkEyes (Clyde): ???

HawkEyes (Clyde): (picture of me at my desk in my cheer uniform)

HawkEyes (Clyde): (blurry picture  of me in my cheer uniform irritated, trying to grab Clyde’s phone)

HawkEyes (Clyde): ????????

HawkEyes (Clyde): or is this some type of sexy cosplay

HawkEyes (Clyde): cause i'm down for either, so

N/N: UR SO ANNOYING LEAVE ME ALONE CLYDE

N/N: I’LL SUE YOU FOR UNSOLICITED PHOTOGRAPHY

HawkEyes (Clyde): HOW CAN I NOT

HawkEyes (Clyde): !!!!!!!!!

HawkEyes (Clyde): (heart eyes emoji) (drooling emoji) (red faced emoji with a sweat drop and its tongue hanging out)

ElfKing (Kyle): Dude.

Congo (Tolkien): Tweek has some coffee if you need something to drink, thirsty ass.

PeruvianPuffPepper (Craig): lmk if ur cold, i’ll give you my jacket to put over ur legs

N/N: <3

PussyMagnet (Kenny): nah nah if you need a jacket take mine, pretty girl

PussyMagnet (Kenny): it’s bigger and bigger is always better ;)

PeruvianPuffPepper (Craig): i doubt urs is warmer w/ all those fucking holes in it

PussyMagnet (Kenny): fuck off, asshole

KrazyKrippled (Jimmy): i agree w/ clyde

KrazyKrippled (Jimmy): i’d come to school everyday if it meant seeing you in ur cheer uniform

GrandWizard (Cartman): no wonder ms. ugoo hasn’t been bitching about football practice taking up our time

ICantBeliveItsNot (Butters): can you fellas stop texting in class, i don’t want the girls sitting next to me to think i’ve got a vibrator up my ass again

ElfKing (Kyle): Huh?

Congo (Tolkien): Pause.

StantheMan (Stan): ur WHAT??

GrandWizard (Cartman): again? wdym again???

ICantBeliveItsNot (Butters): (smiling emoji with its hand covering its mouth)

KrazyKrippled (Jimmy): i-

GrandWizard (Cartman): i fucking hate you so much, butters.

Congo (Tolkien): Oh god, the mental image.

HawkEyes (Clyde): here, let this cleanse ur eyes

HawkEyes (Clyde): (image of me flipping the camera off in my cheer uniform)

HawkEyes (Clyde): (praying hands emoji)

PussyMagnet (Kenny): shit, baby girl

PussyMagnet (Kenny): amen.

N/N: fuck off clyde, my parents wanted me to join so i did

StantheMan (Stan): mom and dad did? since when?? how did i not know about this???

N/N: it’s cause ur actually adopted, stanley. even shelley knew

N/N: step up

HawkEyes (Clyde): who the fuck cares dude, look at this!

HawkEyes (Clyde): (blurry picture of my bare legs and my cheer skirt)

PeruvianPuffPepper (Craig): dude. can you fucking stop

HawkEyes (Clyde): stfu tucker, i saw you save these pictures

StantheMan (Stan): craig???

PeruvianPuffPepper (Craig): (middle finger emoji)

KrazyKrippled (Jimmy): to be fair stan, i think everyone did

GrandWizard (Cartman): you guys are the reason why Y/N is so delusional about not being ugoo

ElfKing (Kyle): STFU cartman, delusion is you calling yourself big boned when you’re really just fucking fat.

GrandWizard (Cartman): AYE!

PussyMagnet (Kenny): give sharon and randy my thanks, stan

HawkEyes (Clyde): for the both of us, pls and thank you

PussyMagnet (Kenny): yeah, i’ll have tweek bake them cupcakes or something as thanks

IHateGnomes (Tweek): wh aaAa ?? ?

N/N: this is why i didn’t tell you guys

ICantBeliveItsNot (Butters): ahhh, pouting Y/N in her cheer uniform!! so cute :D

HawkEyes (Clyde): TAKE A PIC

StantheMan (Stan): QUIT IT W/ THE FUCKING PICTURES

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

In celebration of winning our first game, the boys and I decided to celebrate at the Donovan residence. Glowing embers wash all of us in golden hues as we gather around the campfire we set up, the warmth a contributing factor to our red cheeks along with the stolen booze from our parents. The energy surrounding us is infectious as laughter rings all around us in the air, a wide smile etched onto every face. Low music plays in the background, food filling our stomachs as we begin to roast some marshmallows for s’mores.

A large hand creeps into my vision in silent invitation and my eyes follow up along its owner's arms until I see that it's Kenny standing over me. He flashes me a boyish smile and when I softly place my smaller hand into his, the blonde’s cheeks cutely scrunches up as his teeth start to show. When long fingers wrap around mine, he gently tugs me into a standing position and I escape from the warm confines of the wool blanket that I was sharing with Tweek.

He leads me away from the group, fingers intertwined, a reassuring squeeze as orange hues gradually fade away until darkness surrounds the two of us. Kenny takes off his parka and drapes it over my shoulders before nudging my arm to get me to climb up Clyde’s treehouse, my lips quirking up at his constant caring virtue. I playfully shoot him a look of warning before I start my ascent up the ladder and despite it all, he still lightly taps my ass in jest to let me know that he was indeed, checking me out.

Once we’ve both made it to the top of the wooden structure, he gently wraps his arms around my waist and softly sways us to the beat of the faint music that could still be heard from outside. I giggle as I place my arms around his shoulders, following his slow steps as we launguidly move to the melody playing down below.

“Keeping me all to yourself, McCormick?” I lightly tease, “We could’ve done this down there.”

“You caught me.” He smirks, moving his hands to find purchase at my hips as his thumbs lightly smooth over the skin under my shirt. Goosebumps arise at the sensation and he gently says, “We’ve all been busy lately and after everything that’s happened, I just figured that I didn’t want to let any more time slide like this. I caught a glimpse of what I failed to see and that’s all I needed. I’d trade in a thousand nights for just one with you, Y/N.”

I shyly smile at him, my cheeks slowly heating up despite the dropping temperature. The moonlight streams in through the open window, casting its luminescence over us. The light kisses the handsome visage of the boy in front of me, hugging his features and accentuating the sharp angles that make up Kenny McCormick. On a moonlit night like this, I don’t think I’ve ever seen stars as bright as I did at this very moment.

“Look at the stars, look how they shine for you and everything you do.” The blonde softly coos in time to the music, as our feet glide across the wooden floors.

Our faces are close enough that every small wisp of air that escapes his parted lips lightly touches mine, a ghost of a touch that I wish to release reckless abandon on. I long to dive in and embrace their warmth but I fear that if I do I may sink in too deep, never able to go back up for air.

This close, I study the deep blue of his striking eyes, every shade made apparent from the small distance between us. His eyes are ever expressive, able to articulate all on their own without his lips having to move. Because of this, I never knew why no one ever understood the blonde when we were younger and his speech was muffled from his parka. Their beauty draws in my gaze and at this very moment, I feel like my whole world is reflected in them.

I gasp, spotting something twinkling from the corner of my eye, “A shooting star! Make a wish, Ken!”

“Did you wish for anything?” I excitedly ask, a broad smile adorns my face.

He softly chuckles, gently caressing both of my cheeks with slender hands and pressing a kiss to my forehead. He keeps hold of the sides of my head as he says, “No. How could I? Everything I can ever ask for is right here. You’re a dream come true, Princess. Not much I need when my whole world is literally in the palm of my hands, not even all the money in the world.”

I shove my face in the crook of the teen’s neck in embarrassment, his arms wrap back around my waist as his chest rumbles in fond laughter. I softly sing back to him, “Every word feels like a shooting star, I’m at the edge of my emotions.”

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

The girls and I have a spontaneous day out at the mall, treating ourselves out to gossip over manicures and some much needed retail therapy. Towards the end of the day, we decide on watching the latest romantic comedy that Bebe has been vying to watch, to which we all agree to see for the blonde’s sake and ours lest she complains nonstop. Exiting the heavy doors of the movie theaters, we’re treated to the sight of the mesmerizing, vibrant colors of the sun as it begins its descent to sleep.

Content with the day I just had, I then decide to stop by the shop of my favorite coffee connoisseur on my way home, humming to myself as I jump over every crease I find on the sidewalk in childish delight. Skipping in happiness, I twirl to the beat of the music coming from the headphones over my ears, my skirt flaring all around me at the movement. I abruptly stop as I faintly hear someone calling out my name and I scan my eyes for the source until I see one of my old friends from North Park High.

He crosses the street with a grin on his face, delight at spotting a friend shining through his eyes, “Oh my god! Y/N! I haven’t seen you since what, June?”

I giggle in joy and relish in the warmth of the teen wrapping his arms around me in greeting, “I missed you, Bradley!”

We enter Tweek Bros. Coffeehouse together and I head to the counter to order our drinks as the blonde grabs us a seat. “Hi Tweek!” I happily sing, making grabby hands at the teen behind the counter.

“Ack! My cutest customer!” He laughs, reaching out his non-dominant hand so that I can intertwine our fingers together, the unoccupied one taking my order on the screen. I giggle, “And your favorite!”

“My favorite customer is also the cutest customer! Ngh! Y/N! Who’s that?” The barista asks.

“Hmm? Oh, Bradley? He’s a friend back from my freshman year!” I excitedly inform him, watching as he swiftly makes our drinks. I’ve always found joy in watching him make beverages, his twitching momentarily seizing as he confidently goes through the motions deeply ingrained in his body. His long fingers are mesmerizing as they produce delicious concoctions, his serious expression handsome.

Settling myself at the table, Bradley and I catch up on my old classmates, ooh’s and ahh’s animatedly escaping my mouth as I listen to the latest news.

“I’ve missed you so much, Y/N.” He softly tells me behind the porcelain mug holding the sweet hot chocolate he elected to indulge in tonight.

I playfully punch his arm, gently smiling. “The phone works both ways, Bradley. You know I’m only a phone call or text away. We may not go to the same school anymore but you’re still my friend. I’d be happy to hang out and catch up whenever our schedules align.”

He chuckles and before he can respond, a screeching sound pierces through the quiet ambiance of the cafe as someone loudly pulls out the chair next to mine. Despite not having an invitation, a figure seats themselves at my side, a muscular arm settling itself over my shoulders. I glance to my right in bewilderment, seeing that the self-invited guest joining us is Craig.

The stoic teen lightly squeezes my shoulder, pressing a quick kiss to the side of my head. “Hi, babe. Who’s this?”

“Craig! What’re you doing here? This is a friend from my old school, Bradley!” I giggle at the pleasant surprise, wrapping my arm around his lower back at the waist to bring the two of us closer.

“Hi! It’s nice to meet you.” The blonde greets, confusion crossing his features as his eyes dart between the two of us.

“Hmm.” Craig completely disregards him, grabbing my cup and drinking from it.

“Oh, uh. So, how do you two know each other?” Bradley is caught off guard when the newcomer completely disregards returning his greeting. A nervous smile presents itself on his face at the impartial teen seated in front of him as he tries to continue the one-sided conversation.

When Craig doesn’t respond, I gently pinch his side to urge him to reply. “Huh? Oh, you’re still here. I’m her boyfriend. Right, babe?” He lands a swift kiss to my cheeks, plush lips touching rapidly heating skin as the hand belonging to the arm wrapped around my shoulder possessively grasps my chin to angle it towards him.

My head snaps towards the tall teen after his display of affection as Bradley vocalizes both of our thoughts, chuckling uncomfortably. “Boyfriend? I didn’t know Y/N had someone in her life like that.”

”Oh, you’re not close enough for her to have told you?” One of Craig’s eyebrows pettily lifts up, trying to make the North Parker insecure about his relationship with me.

”Ah, I-… The info must have gone over my head.” Bradley purses his lips, offering the teen in front of him a tight smile.

“Yep.” The chullo wearing teen offers no other words, continuing to sip at the stolen drink, a blank stare on his face.

This causes an awkward standstill in the conversation as I’m lost as to what’s happening, unable to provide any explanation to the confused North Parker. I look between the two boys, Bradley exuding nervous energy and Craig nonchalant. Eventually, the curley haired blonde quickly excuses himself from the oppressive atmosphere in a bid to escape.

“Boyfriend? What was that about?” I question in confusion, my head racking through my memories in panic to see if I forgot something as monumental as the Craig Tucker becoming my significant other. Did I accidentally confess to him the last time we got high or something?!

“Tweek texted us about you being on a date. I thought you went out with the girls today?” He quirks an eyebrow at me and my jaw drops.

“I was! I was just heading home when I ran into a classmate from my freshman year! And why are you guys keeping tabs on me like that?” I sharply turn my head to squint my eyes at Tweek. A clatter is heard as he drops something when he ducks behind the front counter, a shrill Gyah! accompanying the sound.

“You bumped into a guy from North Park, all the way here? Hmm.” It doesn’t sound like he believes me.

“Yeah! He was here because he had to-, wait… Were you jealous, Tucker?” I slyly ask even though my heart feels like its about to rip out of my chest and butterflies will escape through the subsequent opening.

“Of course I was.” He calmly says as he drains the last drops of my caffeinated beverage.

“Yes, you wer—what.” I’m caught off guard at his easy admission, ready to be annoying if he denied it.

“What? Why’re you so surprised?” He finally places the mug down, his undivided attention now on me.

“I just… Uh…”

“I thought you knew that I’ve always chosen you. And I’ll continue to choose you, over and over. Without pause, without a doubt, in a heartbeat. I’ll keep choosing you because for me, there’s only you. So of course I’d be jealous to see you with another boy like that.” My cheeks quickly heat up at his casual admittance.

I shyly mutter, voice soft. “Bradley’s just a friend, Craig. His parents sent him to Camp New Grace when he was younger.”

Recognition flashes through Craig’s eyes, remembering the homophobic Christian camp that Butters was sent to when his parents thought he was bi-curious.

“Ah.” Various shades of pretty red adorn the teen’s cheeks in embarrassment at the misunderstanding.

It was a funny thing. Feelings, and the way that they blossomed in places that they had no business being in. Those very specific stomach churning butterflies and skipped heartbeats were unmistakably there every time I found myself in Craig Tucker’s presence.

“Well, regardless if you were interested in him or not doesn’t change what I said. You are, and always will be, in my heart. You have it now, and you’ve had it since I first laid my eyes on you. You own the biggest part of me already and I would love for it to remain that way.” He averts his eyes, using his unoccupied hand to scratch the back of his head in embarrassment.

My cheeks begin to ache at the ever present smile that presents itself in the boy’s presence. I bring my hand up, gently intertwining my fingers with those on the hand wrapped around my shoulder and lean my head against him.

Whenever Craig says stuff like this, I can never find the words to properly express the elation I experience at his charming words. Happiness floods my entire being to the point that it feels like I’m drowning. Not a bad kind, it’s the most beautiful type of drowning a human being can ever experience. The one where it’s all inside my rapidly beating heart. If I could just rip my heart open and let him see my feelings, then maybe he’d know. Because it would take a lifetime of both actions and words to convey the fondness I feel for this boy.

Despite knowing him all my life, I’m still always in awe that I’ve been given the chance and opportunity to be in the presence of someone as aloof as Craig. Someone notorious around South Park for his cold attitude, never giving girls the time of day.

I’m abundantly grateful to have a person like him in my life that it’d be hard to show any measure of it. Sometimes you don’t need to say words to say what’s in your heart but for him, I want to try. I can only hope to convey at least a small fraction of that with all the things I’m capable of doing on this Earth.

And to start that, I order us another round of beverages and a dessert to share between us, if only so we can stay here, in this moment, a little longer.

song: [yellow - coldplay]

a/n: the song kenny sings along to was what inspired this scene so i highly recommend having this play when you read this section of the chapter!♡

[isamajor]

Whumpril day 21 to 25

More whump drabbles with Skyrim Custom-voiced followers ! :D

21 . « Just hold on. »

It was pouring rain, as if they weren't already wet enough. Wading with difficulty by the light of torches in the Drajkmyr Marsh, the party tried to outrun the hostile fauna who lived here. Night had fallen and there was no suitable surface on which to set up camp, so they were doomed to always move further.

Caryalind's teeth chattered loudly, and his torch flickered, so cold he felt. His thoughts even seemed to freeze in place and his feet moved forward on pure instinct. Taliesin placed his hand on the prince's shoulder.

“Just hold on, your Highness.” (100)

•

22 . Stoicism break

Xelzaz sat alone, hunched over. His body screamed in protest as bruises bloomed across his scales, bones grinding together from fall he suffered a few hours ago. Pride prevented him from showing the extent of his pain, even amongst closest comrades. But each movement, each breathe hurt. Struggling not to betray his agony despite ingesting a numbing potion, Xelzaz maintained a calm demeanor all day. Now, safe within his tent, his defenses lowered and his stoicism dissolved. Sobs rose in his throat. He kept them completely silent, except for sharp inhalations that tore through his chest, the pained moans of which he quickly stifled. (104)

•

23 . Presumed dead

Several had fallen down the mountain, but Lydia had not been found. She did not respond to calls and despite searches, her body was not found. They stayed several days looking for her and waiting for her, but she never came. Xelzaz ended up expressing what everyone was thinking and fearing. "She is probably dead. May she have gone to Sovngarde."

A silence dotted with sad sighs answered him. The mountain was cruel and its frozen slopes dangerous. After a final farewell carried by the wind, and some montain flowers thrown in the abyss, they ended up continuing on their way. (101)

•

24 . No Time to Rest

The exploration of this ruin had been trying and it was with a certain joy that they had come out with the prospect of a well-deserved rest to heal their wounds. But they didn't have time for that. Sensing their weakness, a pack of wolves pounced on them, lips curled. Exhausted, weapons fell heavy in their hands. Kaidan groaned every time he swung his sword. Auri struggled to catch her breath after each shot. Inigo's reflexes were no longer as good. Lucien stayed behind to try to heal his comrades with the little Magicka he had left. Rest had to wait. (104)

•

25 . « Brace yourself. »

“We have no choice, we have to cross.”

Taliesin looked at the Dragonborn in horror, shaking his head. The river was in flood, the bridge could no longer be seen. He wouldn't go any further.

"Without me."

Kaidan sneered. "Brace yourself.", he just had time to say before suddenly grabbing the terrified Mer and throwing him over his shoulder. Without waiting, he entered the river, firmly holding Taliesin who suddenly stopped struggling as soon as the water soaked his robes. With gritted teeth, soaked and terrified, shaking uncontrollably, he clung helplessly to Kaidan, forced to trust in his abilities. (99)

[tactician]

3100 safari encounters after my fateful pinsir sighting, i ran into my safari target - shiny doduo!!! i was terrified that he'd run away just like the pinsir, but he didn't act coy at all and stayed in the very first safari ball that i threw. overall, this shiny hunt took a grand total of 6310 safari encounters!

i've been interested in safari hunting ever since i learnt about safari week. (the date is still pending for this year, but it's basically a shiny community event when a bunch of shiny hunters descend upon the safari zone or great marsh en masse and shiny hunt. since the pokemon you encounter in there can run away, it's a really wild experience.) i wanted to try this hunt out before the actual event as a little warm-up, since i never hunted in a safari before - and i'm very glad that i did! i got super lucky with my encounters, so i hope that the safari luck stays with me for safari week itself.

since i caught this doduo before beating the game and will definitely feature him on my main team, i decided that he's gonna be a little Bonus Shiny for my badge quest! shiny #9!

fun fact: i picked him as a target because doduo can learn fly despite not having wings.

doduo can now fulfill his dream of soaring through the skies. yay!