#He started out as a sketch of a much larger Bad Rat though I grew attached to the concept more than I thought I would | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

emybain · 4 years

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Speak Up

hiiiiii I dont like this fic but im posting anyway because im tired and my body is driving me nuts right now! maybe when I can think clearly again ill write another fic where nova and Adrian have a fight (or maybe ill just write it now sksksk) because this didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. I felt bad about just deleting it though so I figured I might as well post it,,,no harm in that other than my reputation

SPOILERS FOR SUPERNOVA

Nova draped an arm over her eyes, feeling a headache coming on. Well, she had a recurring headache just about every day so far that week, and it was only Tuesday. Already she was sick of them. They weren’t the only things she was sick of.

“Men are stupid,” Danna said from below Nova. She, Ruby, Danna, and Narcissa were all in Ruby’s room. It still felt weird for Nova to have girl acquaintances, dare she say friends, the same age as her after only having Ingrid and Honey for so many years down in the subway tunnels. “Why do you think I like girls?”

Nova and Danna were still on rocky terms, Danna being the only one left on Nova’s former team who hadn’t fully forgiven Nova yet. Nova didn’t blame her; she’d be stubborn to forgive herself as well after everything she put Danna through, as well as the others. Still, it could be frustrating at times when Nova stretched to be nice to the other girl and have it thrown back in her face with a snarky comment. At least now, Nova felt as if Danna was finally starting to accept Nova’s apology, and they could hold a civil conversation when left alone.

“Have you tried talking to him?” Ruby questioned, ignoring Danna’s comment. Nova rolled over onto her stomach to peek down at them from her spot on top of one of the twin’s beds.

“No.” Nova groaned, sitting up and draping her legs over the mini wall on the bunk bed, meant to keep someone from falling off in their sleep. “I don’t care to see him right now.”

“Are you going to break up with him?” Narcissa eyed Nova over her book, a mischievous smile on her lips. Her head was resting on Danna’s lap. “That would be hilarious.”

Danna swatted at her lightly, affectionately, before going back to playing with her hair. The two had been dating for a few weeks now, and Nova was beginning to wonder if she and Adrian had been as disgustingly adorable when their relationship was official.

“No,” Nova said, almost too quickly. Danna snorted. “I don’t know. Is it something worth breaking up over?” She looked down at her hands, feeling her cheeks heat up.

Three months of bliss. Apparently, that was all the world wanted Nova to have before it slapped her in the face. It had been three months since the Supernova, and things with Adrian were going fine until last Saturday night when Nova had gone over to watch a movie. It had been a long day for both of them; along with the other Renegades, they were trying to install more independence among the citizens. Now that everyone in the world was a prodigy, more and more people were beginning to see that they didn’t need the Renegades to protect them and do everything for them, and the Renegades, much to Nova’s relief, believed the same thing. It was a lot of work, undoing the system the Renegades had crafted, but Nova enjoyed it.

Well, she enjoyed most of it, save the media attention she was getting. A lot of people didn’t know what to think of her, the girl who was one of the most wanted criminals in the city and who was now what they deemed a “good guy” that was dating Gatlon’s golden boy. They wanted to know more about her, and that meant having cameras and reporters constantly in her face whenever she left her apartment. Nova was sick of it, to say the least. And some magazines were starting to catch on, based off of what they were now writing about her and how she had a snippy attitude and a mean composure. Fine. Whatever. She didn’t need a couple of journalists defining who she was.

Adrian always tried to comfort her whenever a new story came out, but it never really worked. She could tell he felt bad for her, but what was he to do? He grew up in the spotlight. She grew up in the subway tunnels. He just...didn’t understand.

When she had been at his house the weekend before, they had been somewhat paying attention to the movie until Nova got up to use the bathroom. After she got out, Adrian was not on his couch anymore. Figuring he must’ve gone upstairs for more snacks, she had grabbed the empty popcorn bowl and headed up to help him out. But then she paused before she walked into the kitchen, hearing voices. It was a habit, something she needed to break, and she wouldn’t have kept eavesdropping if she hadn’t heard her name mentioned.

“...need to keep her in line for this interview, Adrian.” She had recognized Hugh’s voice immediately. Like with Danna, Nova and Adrian’s father had an awkward relationship. While he was surprisingly okay with her dating his son, Nova could tell he was still cautious around her, as if she might break at any moment if someone said the wrong thing. “You know how she gets sometimes, and we can’t have her saying too much.” His tone was light, joking. Nova grit her teeth all the same.

“Saying too much?” Nova had leaned in closer, pressing her ear against the door when she heard Adrian’s voice.

“He means something inappropriate or uncalled for.” She remembered deflating at Simon’s words; she had thought that between Adrian’s parents, Simon was actually warming up to her. Clearly, that wasn’t the case. “She wasn’t exactly raised in a proper environment and doesn’t know proper manners. You know we like Nova, but once she opens her mouth…”

This conversation kept going for a few minutes, and with every second that passed, the sour taste on Nova’s tongue got stronger and stronger. Nova and Sketch’s team had an interview with a major television show in a few weeks that Nova was not looking forward to, but was doing it for Adrian’s sake. It would be their first appearance on a larger platform other than newspapers and magazines following the Supernova, and Nova’s first serious interview. Bleh. Hugh and Simon must’ve been referring to the recent news about her; why else would they have a private conversation with their son? She wasn’t so much as annoyed at the fact that they spoke of her like she was a brash child. No, what hurt was the fact that in the few minutes Nova listened to the conversation, not once did she hear Adrian speak up for her.

“Well, what did he say when you found out?” Nova jolted her head up, blinking at Ruby as her mind shifted back to the present.

Nova shrugged. “I walked into the kitchen and told him I had to go. I was already out the door before he could say anything.” She let out a slow sigh. “I’m just upset that he didn’t even defend me. I don’t give a rat’s ass what Simon or Hugh think of me, but isn’t Adrian supposed to be on my side for things like this?” She truly felt stupid for having this conversation. Silly, even. Her problems weren’t supposed to be about trivial things like this. Never in her nearly seventeen years of life would Nova had thought that she would ever have girl talk with girls her age, either. It was all just ridiculous.

“His parents insulting you based on a bias?” Ruby scrunched her nose up. “Yeah. He should’ve said something, but have you considered the possibility that maybe he didn’t get the chance?”

Nova picked at her cuticles; it was a new bad habit she got herself into when she was stressed. “I listened to their conversation for a good five minutes. Adrian had plenty of time to interrupt them.”

The room was silent for a few minutes. Outside the door, Nova could hear Ruby’s brothers horse-playing. She could smell whatever meal her mom was making for dinner.

“Well, Nova,” Danna reclined back to rest against the wall, “I’ve known Adrian longer than Ruby, but I think we both know that Adrian would never hurt you on purpose or go behind your back. We’ve seen the way he looks at you, and while it makes me gag,” the edges of her lips curled up, “he’s afraid of losing you.”

“What are you saying? That I should just forget about it and move on?” Nova huffed, crossing her arms.

“At least go talk to him. Explain why you’re hurt. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Nova wished it were that simple.

__________

It was Thursday morning, and Nova had yet to take Danna’s advice. She didn’t want to admit it out loud, but she was nervous at the thought of confronting her boyfriend. What if she had overreacted and he now thought she was being irrational? What if she had waited too long and now Adrian didn’t want to see her?

She tried to block out her negative thoughts in the Training Hall with Ruby, where she had suggested they work out together that morning. Now, mid morning, they were running laps around the track. Nova was finally beginning to get lost in her element when she noticed two people walking towards them. Oscar and Adrian.

From beside her, Ruby placed a hand on Nova’s arm and slowed both of them down. She waved at the two boys, a bright smile lighting up her face at the sight of her boyfriend. Nova’s eyes widened, and she pried Ruby’s fingers off of her.

“What?” Ruby raised an eyebrow. “I thought you made up with him already.” When Nova shook her head, lips pressed tightly together, Ruby rolled her eyes. “Well, now’s the time to do it. Come on.” With no other way out, Nova let Ruby lead her off the track to meet the boys. Adrian eyed her cautiously, to which she responded with a glare. He averted his gaze immediately, clearly embarrassed, but it didn’t stop him from glancing over her body. She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly self conscious about the fact that she had discarded her shirt earlier and was now left in only a sports bra and leggings, both drenched in sweat. She looked disgusting to say the least, and it wasn’t how she wanted Adrian seeing her. Not that she cared, of course.

Ruby greeted Oscar with a hug, and he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Oh, I completely forgot to mention this.” Ruby turned back to Nova and hit the palm of her hand to her forehead softly. “Oscar and I made plans for brunch today. Do you guys want to join?”

Nova plastered a thin smile to her lips, answering for herself and Adrian before he could even open his mouth. “No, thank you. I want to get in a few more miles before leaving. You guys have fun, though.”

Ruby narrowed her eyes at Nova, as if she was saying “Really?” but Nova pretended she didn’t see it. She waved goodbye to the two of them and turned around, starting up her jog again. She ran for a good twenty feet before she heard Adrian’s voice from behind her, getting louder.

“Nova! Hey, wait up!”

Groaning, Nova stopped again. She wasn’t going to get out of this, obviously, so she waited for Adrian to catch up to her until she spoke. “What?”

He flinched at the harsh tone in her voice, the movement so subtle Nova almost missed it. She bit the inside of her cheek. “You haven’t been answering my messages.” It was true; she hadn’t been. He had sent a few since Saturday, but Nova hadn’t bothered checking to see what they said. She had been too frustrated to care about his apologies.

“I’ve been busy,” she replied, pursing her lips. “Sorry that I don’t have proper etiquette in communication. It was how I was raised, you know.”

Adrian squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before opening them back up. “Listen, about Saturday, can you please let me explain?”

Nova stepped off the track so that she wouldn’t be in the way of other runners. “Explain what? Because from my understanding, you let your dads insult the only family I knew for ten years. No, they weren’t perfect,” she let out a harsh laugh, “but they tried. Honey and Leroy and Winston, at least. Ingrid at times when she was in a good mood.”

“Were you seriously that offended?” Adrian took a step back. “Because they manipulated you, Nova. I understand that Leroy is a better person now, but for the rest of them, well,” he shook his head, “I’m not even going to say anything.”

“Just like on Saturday?” She cocked her head to the side. “I don’t give a shit what your dads think of me, okay, Everhart? I do care about what you think of me, though, and if you see me as some uncontrollable toddler who can’t keep her mouth shut like Hugh does, then why are we even together?” The last bit stung her as much as Adrian. Once the words left her mouth, she instantly regretted them, but it was too late now. So she huffed and looked up at him expectantly.

Nova noticed how people slowed their stride when they passed by the arguing couple, eager for whatever gossip they could get. No doubt word would get out to the press, and Nova’s mood would sour more.

“Nova, you know I don’t think of you like that, not even in the slightest.” He reached a hand forward, placing it on her arm. She shrugged it off.

“Then why,” she asked quietly, looking down, “didn’t you defend me? I sat there for five minutes listening to your dads talk to you, and not once did you speak up. Are you afraid that I’m going to embarrass you in front of the entire world? Because I’m not a perfect little doll and that I come from what many people see as garbage?

“Of course not!” Adrian cried out, drawing more attention to them. He glanced around before lowering his voice. “No, Nova, you’re right. I...I should’ve said something. I wasn’t comfortable with what they were telling me but I kept my mouth shut anyway. I guess I’m just...trying to stay on their good side? Ever since they found out about the Sentinel, things haven’t been the same around the house. But that’s no excuse. You’re my girlfriend and one of the people I care the most about.”

Nova’s shoulders relaxed, but only slightly. She hadn’t really noticed how things may have changed around the Everhart-Westwood household, but she wouldn’t be surprised if they had.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Adrian murmured, daring to reach out again and pull her closer by her hips. Nerves spiked through her body at the nickname; he had used it a few times before, teasingly, because he knew it annoyed her. What he didn’t know was the effect it had on her, despite her holding a grudge against it. “I was an idiot.”

Nova’s leg bounced nervously, her eyes not meeting Adrian’s. How could she stay upset with him? She knew he was actually sorry and not just saying it to appease her; that’s just how Adrian was.

“I accept your apology.” She sighed, placing a hand on his outstretched arm. “I’m sorry too...for overreacting. I just…” She peeked up at him. “Sometimes these articles get to me, you know? They put it in my head that I’m not good enough for you because of who I am and where I came from, and then I have to hear the same things from your dads, and I was hurt that you said nothing. I-I know that I can act without thinking sometimes, and say things that I don’t mean, but I can’t stand other people berating me for it.”

Adrian took both of her hands and laced their fingers together. “Those articles are full of bullshit. Nova, one of the things that I love most about you is that you’re not afraid to speak your mind and you’re not afraid to act on something immediately. Your stubbornness and bold composure make you you.” His lips quirked up. “Not to mention, it’s kind of hot.”

Nova had to laugh at that, her first real smile in days breaking out on her face. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

“No more secrets anymore, right?” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Please come to me sooner when I make a mistake so we can talk about it. I can’t stand you being upset with me.”

“Okay.” Nova nodded, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck to hug him. “Just as long as you do the same. Going five days without you has sucked ass.”

“It’s a deal.”

#supernova spoilers #nova artino #Adrian everhart #danna bell #Oscar silva #ruby tucker #renegades #archenemies #supernova #my writing #nodrian #sighhhhhhhhhhh

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blame-canada · 7 years

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Tempt a Demon, Pay the Price

Craig Tucker was not religious in any sense of the term, but money was money, and Eric Cartman was convincing. Becoming a cheesy sideshow of a falsified church was not his idea of a good time, but a wild encounter he’d never have expected might turn that around.

Hey guys so uhhh I definitely wrote this. Imp Tweek x Youth Pastor Craig has kind of exploded and I wanted to join in on the fun but since drawing isn’t really my thing, I figured writing would have to do. I actually like this one despite it being cracky so hopefully you guys do too! Link to AO3 here! Here’s some uhh, yeah. Some of this. Special thanks to Phone Destroyer for gifting us these ridiculous AUs.

Note: alternatively titled ‘The Gayte To Hell.’ I loved myself too much to actually go through with it, sorry.

Performing fake exorcisms and reading off the same script twice a week in a rotation of four major themes was not how Craig expected his adolescence to go. Surely, he thought, there would be one or two summer flings which would end in melodramatic heartbreak, and a few obsessions to cycle through in ridiculous phases he’d insist were not phases. Yet here he was, stuck in the sweltering heat of a church’s atrium, fanning himself with a promotional pamphlet and doodling in his notebook that was supposed to be filled with notes. It wasn’t; it was filled with more doodles.

“And Butters, I want to hear those bells next time, got it? The bells are important. Everyone loves the bells!”

“U-uh, yes Eric, sir,” Butters stuttered, and Craig huffed as he rolled his eyes. He could have been getting drunk at Clyde’s right now. He could have been stuffed in a closet with someone hot right now. He could have been losing his virginity right now. Those were fantasies, though, and right now, Craig liked money, and he liked cheating people out of said money. Cartman’s undeniably for-profit church fit that bill, and so here he stayed, seventeen and devoted to a God he did not believe in.

Truthfully, Craig had never set foot in a church in his life when Cartman made the initial offer. ‘We’ll be making bank, Craig!’ Cartman had insisted, and though Craig knew those words meant absolutely nothing positive when considering their history, he was feeling particularly moody and impulsive that afternoon, and something as idiotic as falsifying an entire church for cash definitely fulfilled the primal teenaged urge to do something reckless. Most kids scribbled on walls or did drugs to rebel. South Park kids started wars and Ponzi schemes.

Every couple of weeks or so Eric Cartman would make them gather ‘round in the atrium of the church to discuss any changes to the routine and make sure everything was in working order. It meant inspecting the fog machines and the motorized furniture, which was the best part, and listening to Cartman gripe about having lost a negligible fraction of money in the past week, which was the worst part. Any moment now and it’d be Craig’s turn to get yelled at. Wonderful.

“Craig, I’m thinking your routine is getting a little stale,” he sneered, a hand to his chin in what he probably thought looked scheming when it just looked stupid, and Craig shrugged at him. “Maybe we should amp up the bullshit, you know, make it cheesier.”

Craig snorted. “How do you get cheesier than, ‘open your heart to salvation!’?” He imitated the bad kind-of Southern accent he usually did with the opening line of his act, and Cartman scrunched up his face in an ugly frown.

“I don’t know, asshole, just play it up! Get more fog machines, fuck! Your job is to be convincing.” He was scowling, which was always a terrible expression on him, which made the whole conversation suddenly amusing.

“We both know I’m a terrible actor,” he countered. He crossed his arms and hoped Cartman’s face would start turning purple.

“You’ve been doing this for over a year and you’ve gotten much better than when you started. Figure it out,” Cartman insisted, an accusatory finger jabbed in his direction. Craig flipped him off and sighed as he leaned forward into his notebook. There wasn’t much more to the meeting, and he wanted to finish his sketch of a dragon. It was pretty messed up, and he was probably going to take a picture of it to post on twitter. He had the handle baddragons and he used it to post pictures of poorly drawn dragon sketches on the corners of his papers. He got a lot of angry DMs looking for the dildos of a common name. He thought it was a pretty good joke.

Cartman wrapped up the meeting five minutes later, and dictated that Craig check all the door locks this time before leaving. The building was a dump, but it was the foundation on which they’d built their lies, and they needed a church for people to come to if they wanted to continue making incredible amounts of money. This month was funded by donations to a non-existent homeless shelter for kids with cancer, and it was astounding that none of the churchgoers bothered to look up the organization they claimed was real and just dumped their cash in the collection buckets. Tithe had been taken to a whole new level, and it was as ugly and stupid as the dragons on his troll twitter account.

The church sometimes felt creepy at night, and that was especially true when no one else was there with him. His colleagues had escaped as soon as Cartman had ended his spiel about the importance of proper fog machine use (to embellish the mysterious effect they were looking for). Craig was supposed to be removing the evil spirits from the souls of their planted audience members. Obviously, this meant there had to be smoke coming from the walls. The regulars ate the shit up, and it was frankly embarrassing that they’d refused to catch on. Humanity was such a waste.

He was halfway through blowing out all the over-the-top candelabras at the altar when a creaking sound squeaked underneath his feet. Craig shuffled his weight between legs to try to trigger it again, but he felt nothing out of the ordinary in the flooring that could have caused the squeaking in the first place, and he shrugged and moved on.

A few moments later the floor did it again, and this time Craig turned around to look for a source of the sound. The church was so dimly lit he could hardly see a thing, but what he could see looked normal. He was about to turn around and return to his candle-snuffing when the floor did it again, but this time louder, and it sounded more like a groan than a creak.

Craig tensed. He refused to die in some fucked up church when he didn’t even believe in God in the first place. Absolutely not. He carefully shifted the candle extinguisher to brandish it like a baton should he need to strike a threat. He waited.

A rush of hot air flew through the building and put out the remaining candles one by one, and at the same time, the ground below him began to shake. Craig bent his knees in a defensive stance to keep his balance. From the floorboards came what started as a groan and turned into a wail, which turned into screaming that made his ears feel like they were bleeding and felt like claws gouging at the flesh of them at the same time. In his surprise, he dropped the extinguisher, and brought both palms up to his ears to try to drown out the cries. It sounded like thousands of horrified voices moments before death, and even though Craig couldn’t care less about that part, it must have had some sort of magic to it because his eyes welled up with tears that he couldn’t control or understand.

From the place in the floor that the screaming exploded grew a light, warm and orange which turned to a blinding yellow the louder the voices cried. His hands weren’t helping, and he was resisting the urge to scratch at his ears in an attempt to stop the horrid sounds. The light and sound disappeared for one blissful second where Craig thought it might be over, but as soon as the silence in the air began to ring, an explosion burst from the floorboards in the center of the aisle.

Craig choked on a gasp and hacked as he backed away as quickly as he could without falling. His back pressed against his podium, and he watched as the cheap wooden floor panels splintered and broke apart to leave room for a hole split right through the earth that glowed an angry red-orange, like the flames of a fire. Never in all his life had he ever felt so compelled to talk to God.

He was about to start awkwardly reciting lines he’d learned in his pseudo-studies when out of the hole popped a ragged, fiercely clawed hand, which spread its pointed tips to dig itself into the wood. Craig shrieked, and any semblance of confidence or security fled from him at such a supernatural sight. The hand braced itself, and it pushed down with all its might to make the slab of wood collapse under its weight and heave to the surface a body curled inward.

Craig covered his mouth to prevent his panicked gasping for air from making sounds. In front of him, in front of the hole that undoubtedly led to Hell (which Craig had not believed in until personally witnessing its existence just now), was what looked like a boy.

At first glance he seemed normal, but from his back spread two huge crimson wings, leathery like a bat’s, and Craig spotted two matching horns sprouting from within messy golden locks of hair. The wings grew larger as they unfolded, and soon they were easily surpassing the width of the aisle, splayed fully out. Behind him a tail like a rat’s swung back and forth like a dog’s, a telltale spade at the end of it twitching. “A demon,” Craig whispered, and he yelped when the creature’s head shot up to meet his gaze with piercing cat’s eye pupils in fiery yellow irises.

“An imp, actually,” he said, and with each flap of his lips Craig saw canines sharp as daggers lining his gums. He gulped, his throat suddenly feeling dry as a desert, and the demon boy tilted his head slowly, carefully.

“You’re not like the others,” he said, and it took a few moments for Craig to compose himself before he realized the boy was staring at him, waiting for an explanation.

“I’m not really a pastor!” Craig held his hands up in the air as though it might help prove his innocence. His gut twisted and he fought the urge to vomit with all his being. The ground was still screaming, and he was finding himself drawn to staring at it instead of the demon in front of him.

“Oh yeah, s-sorry about that, hang on,” the boy said, and with a snap, the hole was gone and the screeches were completely silenced. Craig looked up into his intense eyes again and found that even with the gate to hell closed, there was still a sound that surrounded him, almost like a low chanting or hum that represented his raw energy. He stood up straight, and that was when Craig realized that the second half of his body was not human, but furry and cloven hooved. Dear God.

He tilted his head again, and leaned on the pitchfork Craig hadn’t noticed he had. “You say you’re not a servant to the Lord?”

“I-I honestly don’t even know what that means,” Craig said quickly. “I don’t even believe! Well, okay, now I might, but. Before that, no. I do this for money!”

The demon nodded. “I knew that much, and that’s why I came here to drag you to Hell. I don’t know, though…” He trailed off, and raised a clawed finger to press it to his lower lip in thought. “Y-you’re pretty cute, nnh, for a human.” He twitched to the left and frowned.

Craig stuttered, lost for words or what to say really, but when he did finally speak, it was not at all what he wanted to say. “You too!” he exclaimed, and he covered his mouth immediately afterwards as though it could rescind his statement. What an embarrassment.

The demon boy chuckled. The sound was melodic and shook with the humming of his energy so that it reverberated in the church’s echoey chambers, and it was beautiful. Craig wasn’t sure if he was supposed to find it beautiful. Demons were supposed to be the worst, after all, according to his made-up scripture. Craig was supposed to be banishing demons. This one seemed pretty okay, though, and even though Craig was shaking so badly he felt like he might fall apart at the seams, he wasn’t all that threatening. That is, if he could get past the teeth and claws and wings, and horns, and hooves. He was particularly fixated on the cherry-red appendages sticking out of his back.

“Y-you like them?” the demon asked, and he made one flapping motion with his wings for good measure. The wind of it brushed Craig’s hair back and nearly ripped his hat clean off. Luckily he was still crouched against his podium, or else he probably would have stumbled from the wind force.

“Who are you?” Craig finally asked. The demon’s head tilted even further to the side in a way that made Craig think it must hurt his neck, but he seemed content.

“I’m not supposed to tell you,” he started, “but I like you, so I’m Tweek.” He smiled, and it would have been sweet if he didn’t have terrifyingly sharp fangs taunting him behind his lips. The demon boy named Tweek was pretty, Craig would admit, with high cheekbones and elongated features that made him look lanky but somehow beautiful, like a dancer. His eyes were proving just as incredibly sharp as the first time he met them, and they danced on their own with their own fires. He was fascinating to look at, and Craig was mesmerized. The way Tweek giggled made Craig think he’d been caught staring.

“So...yeah. Hell, I guess. You really shouldn’t do this, y-you know,” Tweek lectured, gesturing at the church. “The only reason I can come in here is that your church is so illegitimate, you have no protective worship energy surrounding it. None of you believe at all. I-isn’t that sad, t-to just, not believe in something?” He frowned slightly. “It seems lonely. If I was allowed to like God, I probably would. He seems nice.”

Craig shook his head. “Okay, I’m sorry, but I have no idea what’s happening. Am I dreaming? What the fuck did I take?” he asked, and Tweek laughed at him again.

“You didn’t take anything. You just fucked up and I’m here to make you pay.”

“Oh, good,” Craig mumbled. “I always wanted to become a martyr.”

“I don’t think this counts as martyrdom. You’re not even religious. You’re just a shitty person.” Tweek looked surprised, his cat eyes blinking slowly. “You don’t want to make your case before I toss you in, then?” Tweek stepped forward, his wings rising to glide over the pews. The closer he got, the grander they became, until Craig was so enamored with them that he wanted to reach out and pet just one finger on the skin that webbed Tweek’s wings together.

“I don't really have a case. I know this is wrong.” Craig shrugged. He was starting to feel more comfortable, and his shaking had been reduced to adrenaline-fueled tremors. Now that he looked closer, Tweek seemed to be shaking slightly too. “Are you afraid of me too?” he asked, but he instantly regretted it the moment Tweek snorted at him.

“N-no,” he smirked, “I just shake. God made me wrong so Satan took me instead. He’s very, ngh,” Tweek twitched violently mid-sentence, “nice! You'd like him, I think. Most do. Let's go!” Tweek snapped and the hole in the ground reappeared, squealing at full-force.

“You want me to get in that?” Craig yelled over the cries, and Tweek gave him a confused look.

“W-well, you don't really have a choice.”

“No?” Craig asked, and Tweek shook his head. Craig rubbed his hands together and did what he did best: scam his way through a tight spot. “You're a devil, right?” Tweek nodded slowly. “Wouldn't the more devilish thing to do be to… I dunno, defy your orders and steal me away for yourself?” Craig crossed his fingers behind his back.

Tweek’s eyes practically glowed. “Wow, would you really let me do that?” Craig nodded, very subtly as he was still very uncertain, but he did. “That sounds fun!” He shrieked and the high pitch of his voice rattled the windows and pierced Craig’s brain like an instant migraine. “O-oh, sorry. I forget you're so fragile.” He looked sheepish, which was not a description Craig thought he would ever give a demon. Then again, Craig hadn't believed in demons until one quite literally showed up in front of him.

“You still have to get in, though,” Tweek said, frowning. “I can fly but I don't want to fly out of here in such a small town. Satan doesn't like when we’re spotted. I want to teleport a little ways out. Is that okay?”

“No,” Craig said, his stomach flipping again at the sight of the flames beneath the floorboards. “But I guess I have no choice.”

“Nope!” Tweek said cheerfully, and Craig sighed.

“Okay,” he said, feeling as though he'd either horribly regret or fondly recall his decision, “take me away, demon boy.”

“I'm an imp,” Tweek corrected, but Craig rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, imp boy. Let's go.”

His stomach erupted into butterflies at the excited gleam in Tweek’s eyes as he held out a clawed hand for him to take. Craig slowly placed his palm in his, and the pad of his hand was surprisingly soft to the touch. It was warm, but not clammy, and Craig relaxed into his hold as he was tugged gently forward. “I can't believe I'm doing this,” he muttered, but Tweek gave him a reassuring smile that was much gentler without the deadly fangs poking out of his lips.

“I won't hurt you,” Tweek said, and somehow, for some idiotic reason, Craig believed him. For a moment he recalled his family, his friends, and his coworkers who would find his notebook discarded and the floors ripped to shreds without any idea of what had transpired, but something about the imp holding his hand made him less worried about the life he was likely abandoning for a long time.

Tweek led him forward and he gulped, staring down into the flames that screamed. “They won't burn you,” Tweek said, “they’re just warm.” Craig still feared them. After a moment to collect himself, he nodded, giving Tweek permission to lead him in.

“So, are you familiar with the story of Sodom and Gomorrah?” Tweek asked, grinning, and Craig choked on his spit before he was pulled forward and began a free-fall through a wormhole leading to God knew where.

When they resurfaced it was in a dark shack in a town Craig didn't recognize, and Tweek had the same grin in place as when they hopped through the portal the first time, and Craig had to wonder just how familiar he was with the story of Sodom and Gomorrah and how much it was going to relate to the hours of sex they would undoubtedly be having in the very near, very enticing future.

THE END

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