#...i have actually drawn two more tweeks and a craig since making this so the chart is incomplete. anyways. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

themangledsans0508 · 5 years

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Grasping at Control

Allie can suck my wee if she’s reading this you bitch.

TW: Self-Harm

Tweek Tweak considered himself the most fucked-up person in the entirety of South Park, which was quite an achievement considering he went to school with actual sociopaths, murderers, and drug dealers.

Yet here he was, a cocktail of addiction, anxiety, ADHD, and depression. He felt pretty alone, despite all the years he had to make friends and come to terms with himself. One of two kids out as gay, and very few adults in their town understanding, much less out themselves; he had no one to talk to.

Just thinking about it made him want to curl up into a ball and suffocate.

And he tried.

He wrapped himself up in blankets and cried.

He cried for what felt like ages before he got sick of feeling miserable from the stale air that had just enough oxygen in it to keep him alive.

He crawled out and sat, shaking violently. Why did he want this to happen? Why didn’t he want to be alive?

Mr Mackey had lectured them many, many times on what to do if you or someone you knew felt like they wanted to kill themselves, and Tweek wouldn’t hesitate to act if someone else felt the same way he did.

So why didn’t he care about himself?

He thought back to fourth grade when Kim Jong Un marked him as a possible target if war were to break out and Craig brought him to an amusement park.

“Well, I’m sorry that I’m actually in control of my goddamn emotions, you baby!”

That exchange had only been a minute long, but Tweek had never forgotten it. Craig was right, he wasn’t in control of his emotions. For fuck’s sake, he wasn’t even in control of his movements.

He wasn’t in control of anything. He snapped back to the present from the pain of his hair being torn out by himself, and he tried to stop himself.

His movements were involuntary, even when putting his force against them he couldn’t stop himself.

He screamed in frustration. He didn’t care if anyone heard him, because he knew from experience that nobody would do anything even if he was being murdered. His own parents didn’t care for him. The only reason his dad kept him was because having a kid helped his coffee shop. As he got older, his dad also got free labour out of him as the form of “chores.”

His hands flew from his hair to his arms, tearing up his skin to the point he bled. He looked down to see the mess and rushed to the bathroom to prevent his room from turning into a crime scene.

He stared at himself in the mirror. Small patches of hair missing from his scalp, large bags under his eyes that served to highlight the tears running down his face. There were scratches down his cheeks from his nails dragging down his face and when he raised his hand to feel them, his arms showed a nightmare of red lines intersecting so much that they looked like a terrible map.

He reached for the bandages under the counter and felt a flash of pain from a tear dropping onto an open wound on his arm. He bit back a yelp of pain and a horrible idea came to him. He reached for a razor in the cabinet.

Maybe there was something he could control.

Craig Tucker liked to call himself a “good boyfriend.”

Sure, he wasn’t perfect, nobody was. He still had spats with his lover just as everyone else did. However, as they aged and matured, those spats stopped being physical very quickly as they aged and by eleven they were purely verbal.

They didn’t have them frequently either, and they didn’t last very long.

So, as a good boyfriend would be, he was concerned when Tweek didn’t come to school. He tried texting him, then calling him to no avail. He didn’t like that, Tweek would usually tell him if he was sick, or pick up the phone when Craig called.

“Craig, dude,” Token said, “maybe he’s asleep or something.”

“He doesn’t sleep Token. He breathes coffee,” Craig sighed.

“Okay, maybe he left his phone somewhere,” Clyde offered. Craig nodded.

“Probably.” Craig could hear the static noise of his friends talking about girls, football, or other things he would usually be amused by.

Concerned was not something that people would normally think Craig Tucker was capable of being. Once upon a time, they were probably right. Tweek taught him how to comprehend emotions instead of pretending they didn’t exist, even if he still preferred not to express them.

Tweek brought out the best in him. Craig helped him find his center. They balanced each other out pretty well.

Craig would be lying, however, if he said he didn’t keep secrets from Tweek. His secrets weren’t anything terrible like he murdered someone or he was cheating on Tweek, but that he had anxiety himself.

He never told Tweek because he decided early on he could deal with it himself. He was constantly worried that something would happen to Tweek or any of his other friends. With the town that they lived in and the fact that he had actually been kidnapped and dragged to Peru once, he felt those fears were justified.

While he would never claim his anxiety was as bad or even worse than Tweek’s, it had given him his fair share of sleepless nights and long days.

Situations like this had happened a few times before and never failed to set off his anxiety.

Perhaps his friends were onto his lies, or maybe they could simply tell that this was bothering him more than he would let on, but they gave him some space.

He appreciated that.

Tweek sat on his bed, staring at his arm. His room was littered with lego bricks, empty coffee cups, and bandage wrappers.

While he was in general rather prone to accidentally hurting himself, the sheer amount of fresh wounds dancing down his arms exposed what actually occurred.

He couldn’t risk anyone finding out about it, especially Craig.

He loved Craig too much for him to have the burden of this on his shoulders. He couldn’t imagine what he would say when he found out.

If he found out.

Tweek had no intention of telling him, and he wouldn’t let him see either.

But he couldn’t skip school forever.

He sighed in frustration. He didn’t know what he was feeling. Anger, sadness, frustration, regret, or maybe a mix of it all.

He felt lost

Craig inserted his copy of Tweek’s house key into the lock.

They both had a key to each other’s house, and they had for a long time. Since they began dating to be exact. They respected each other’s privacy though, and if Tweek told him to leave, he would.

He opened the door and poked his head in. The house was dark, which didn’t really surprise him since both the matriarch and the patriarch of the family were working in the coffee shop.

“Tweek? Are you in here?” he called

The house was still, yet Craig went in anyways. He shut the door behind him and flicked on the light. There was no one downstairs, so he swiftly moved to the second floor and approached Tweek’s room. He knocked on the door gently.

“Tweek?” Craig listened for a response. He heard nothing but quiet breathing on the other side. “Tweek, is it alright if I come in?”

The boy on the other side remained silent.

“Tweek?”

“Go away, Craig.” His voice was sad and quiet, and the promise Craig had made got lost in the wind.

“What’s wrong Tweek?” Craig couldn’t stop the worry from flowing out in his voice, even though he tried.

“I’m sick Craig. Just go away. I don’t want to see you right now.” Tweek’s voice shook as he spoke, along with small jitters and whimpers. Craig could sense something was wrong and turned the doorknob.

He gently pushed against the door and to his surprise, it didn’t open. There was a weight against the door. It wasn’t heavy, well he wasn’t heavy. Craig knew exactly who was against the door. Tweek was never heavy, not even when they were little. He had gotten scrawnier and scrawnier as they aged since sometimes his anxiety made him just not be hungry, or even scared to eat. He would also forget, or be full from drinking so much coffee even though he drank far less than he used to.

Craig stopped pushing and heard the door quickly snap back into its place with a click. He wasn’t going to force the door open and possibly hurt Tweek, he wouldn’t risk that.

“Craig, please. Just-” he heard his voice break, “Please.” His voice broke, along with Craig’s last straw.

He silently went back down the stairs and out the house, turning to look up at Tweek’s window. The shades were drawn and the room behind them was dark.

Craig turned to look at the twin pines that grew next to the house. They had been there for longer than either boy had been alive, and had grown past the height of the window.

He walked over to the lush green plant and grabbed a hold of it’s lower branches, hoisting himself up. He repeated the movement multiple times until he was at the tip of the tree. The entire tip shuddered with his every breath and threatened to snap with his every movement.

The tree leaned over slightly, allowing Craig to reach over and tap the window. It flew open and Tweek pulled open that shade.

“Craig! What the hell are you doing?”

“Hanging out. Can I come in?”

Tweek cursed under his breath and reached his hands out. Craig accepted them and jumped into the window, cutting his legs on the branches of the tree. He tumbled through the window, landing on top of Tweek with an “oof.” He felt the stinging in his leg and light wetness and realised trying to climb into a window from a pine tree was a terrible idea.

“Tweek-”

“Craig, what the fuck?” Tweek panted. “Why did you fucking do that?”

Craig looked at the blonde boy underneath him. He was skin and bones, the bags under his eyes were huge. His face was tear-stained and scratched.

“Tweek, I know something’s wrong.” Craig pushed himself off Tweek and offered to help him up. Tweek simply stared at him, mouth slightly agape.

“You’re an idiot, Craig. Why don’t you ever just listen to me?”

Tweek let out a quiet sob and looked up at Craig.

“Craig, I’m a mess. What the hell do you want from me?” Craig lowered himself down to the floor and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Tweek, I want to know what’s wrong. We have to work together through these things, remember? Beat them together, expectations, resentment, all of it.” Tweek pushed Craig’s hand off him and jumped up.

“You want to know what’s wrong? What’s wrong is the fact that no matter what I do, I have no control over my life! Something that only I should control! Me and me alone! Everyone else controls it! I never became a knight or a queen, I’m still just a pawn in someone else’s fucking game! And guess what, pawns are expendable! I’m expendable. I’m not needed. That’s what’s wrong! I’m only a fucking tool for the entire world to use.”

Tweek waved his hands, exasperated. His voice shuddered with every word he said, tears ran down his cheeks. He twitched and whimpered every few seconds. His hands tore across his body, flying from his arms to his shirt to his hair.

Craig stepped forward and embraced him. He pulled him tight against his body and felt him tense up and wince slightly. Tweek pushed against him slightly in a poor attempt to break free of his grip, before he simply caved in and buried his face into Craig’s shoulder.

“I-I’m just replaceable Craig. My parents didn’t have to sell me into slavery because I’m already a slave to them. They control me, Craig.”

“What can we do about that, Tweek? There has to be something.” Craig tangled one of his hands in Tweek’s hair and had the other one rub circles into his back. His voice was not sarcastic or mocking, but gentle and genuine.

“I don’t know Craig. I’ve tried so many things, so many things. Nothing works, Craig. Nothing.”

“Let’s try something else then. Something together. You don’t have to do this alone, Tweek.” Craig lowered them down to the floor, sitting with his legs crossed and Tweek in his lap. “We can run away together. Get our own house.”

“We can’t do that. Your sister needs you. She’s only thirteen.”

“Fine. I’ll take you home with me then. You can live in my room.” Tweek shook his head.

“No, no. All these things put stress on you too. I want to deal with it myself,” he scolded. Craig sighed.

“I won’t let you do that. The whole point of a relationship is to deal with things together. If I can’t help you directly, then I want to be able to at least support you.”

“Where were you when I needed you? Why aren’t you ever here when I need you?” Tweek pushed himself out of Craig’s grip and stood up. “Why the fuck does everything go the shit when I’m not with you?” He shouted.

“What do you mean Tweek?” Craig slowly stood up and put his hands into his pockets.

“I mean why am I even more of a fucking mess without you?” Tweek’s hands flew up to his hair, causing his sleeves to slip down.

Craig didn’t miss the small movement, he had become very perceptive since they had started dating. He noticed the red lines and scabs weaving down his arms. He reached his hand over to intertwine their fingers and grab his attention.

“Tweek, what happened to your arms?”

“Huh?” Tweek looked down to the subject of Craig’s curiosity. When he realised what it was he attempted to pull himself out of Craig’s grip. “It’s nothing! I just fell!”

Craig’s grip strengthened just enough to keep a hold on Tweek but not enough to hurt him.

“Tweek, those weren’t from a fall.” Craig locked his own green eyes with Tweek’s blue ones. “Tell me the truth, Tweek. What are they from.”

“What the fuck do you think they are from? You aren’t dumb,” he snapped. Craig lurched forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Tweek. He pressed his full weight into him. For the first time in perhaps ever, he had no control over himself.

They toppled backwards onto Tweek’s bed. Craig manoeuvred them so they weren’t at risk of falling off the bed and rested his head so his ear was directly above Tweek’s heart.

“Dude, what the hell?”

“What were you thinking?” Craig’s voice was different. It wasn’t monotone or bland, it was raw and emotional and occasionally breaking. “Why would you do that?”

“I was in control. I knew what I was doing. Nobody was in charge of me.”

“Yeah, well, you could have fucking died! Those could have gotten infected. They could have gone too deep and cut a vein! Is a brief relief really worth that risk?” Craig let out a quiet sob and gripped Tweek’s shirt.

Everything hit Tweek suddenly. He wiggled out from under Craig to lay beside him instead. He placed his hands on his cheeks and pressed their foreheads together.

“Hey, hey, I know it was stupid, okay? I’m not going to do it again.” Tweek whispered.

“You better not,” Craig muttered.

“And if I’m feeling like shit,” Tweek continued, “I’ll call you or text you to come over.”

“Or you can come over to my place,” Craig countered.

“Yeah, that’s true.”

Craig rolled Tweek over and pulled him against his body. He moved his arms from his shirt to his waist and pulled him down so he could rest his chin on his head.

“Well, I’m tired,” he yawned. “Text my mom and tell her I’m staying here tonight.”

“Why can’t you do it?” Tweek asked.

“Well, because I’m about to take a nap.”

“Wait, right now?”

“Yep.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Tweek said, “I have stuff I need to do.”

“Not anymore you don’t” Craig grumbled. “All you need to do is stay right here. I’m not moving until it’s time for school.”

“I fucking hate you.”

“Well, we’ll have a terrible marriage then.”

There's gonna be a part two the angst isn't over my dears

#south park #creek sp #sp creek #creek #craigxtweek #craig tucker #craig x tweek #tweek x craig #tweekxcraig #tweek tweak #tw self harm #chara writes

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writing-radionoises · 7 years

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❝ GET A LOAD OF THIS MONSTER ! ❞

Irony is something common in this world. For example, you best friend, Craig, is a ghost, and his husband, Tweek, is a witch. Actually, he's more of a ghost hunter. Wendy is a fallen angel, and her girlfriend, Bebe, is a succubus. Cartman is a demon, and his ex-girlfriend is a nymph. You find that ironic because Heidi was the calmest, sweetest, forest nymph in existence. All she wanted was someone to care for her the way Mother Nature had once. However, after Cartman, she became rather chaotic an aggressive. She doesn't trust men anymore, which is why when you go to see her, you keep your female form. You don't see much of him, but you know that Token is an angel while Clyde is a fairy. You can kind of see how they got attached to each other, but no relationship could also fit quite as well as Stan and Kyle's. Tweek and Craig was pretty close to a perfect relationship, outside of the irony of it. Stan is one of Satan's twins, keeper of Hellhounds. So, as expected, he's a rather powerful person an to be feared. Kyle, on the other hand, has telekinesis. You like to call him Carrie, in reference to the popular book. Not ot mention how similar the two seem at times. The ginger has always had trouble with anger. Seeing that you've introduced all your friends into this story, it might be a wise idea to throw yourself into the mix. Your name is Kenny McCormick, you're a succubus. Before the reader assumes anything, you do have morals. You have a little girl at home, she's not biologically yours, but you like to call her your own. Karen, that's her name. She was dumped off due to being half angel and half demon, no creature wanted her but you. And you make sure she knows that. You cherish Karen constantly, yoru free time goes into loving her and doing things with her. It's not her fault she was born this way. She has found some interest in some of your other friends' siblings and such. Craig's little living sister, Tricia, is one of her best friends. Kyle's brother, Ike, is the same way. Tricia has always been highly involved in your world, more than her own. You've expected this, considering that she lost her brother at such a young age and, until recently, had never actually seen his ghost form. However, that does not stop Craig from being overprotective of her. Ike is Kyle's adopted brother, is the son of a demon and a human, though was raised by a witch for most of his life. Thus, Ike is someone who visits hell on weekends and every other Christmas while also possessing the talent of witchcraft since he was two. Now days, at age thirteen, Ike is raised by Kyle's mother, a simple human. He practices witchcraft on his own. Speaking of ages, Karen's birthday was a couple days ago. That's mainly why you're aware of all the current events in your friends circle, as all of you gather every time one of you turns thirteen, eighteen, or thirty. Significant ages for creatures like your own. Most of you weren't met to live past fifteen. It's easy to say that you have had a tiring and worrisome week. For one, it was the first event Craig had actually revealed himself to everyone at. Since Tricia turned thirteen a couple months ago, he decided it was probably time to stop hiding himself. He isn't a pleasant sight to wake up to first in the morning, though it sure was a surprise for Tricia to find out that, yes, while Craig was nineteen, he still had the body of an eleven year old. It was also quite a mess when you had to shove Bebe in the closet when she tried to give the kids Sex ED. It explains why you're here in the bar, now. You just wanna get laid, or maybe find some friends. Whatever cleanses your mind of worrying. While Tweek and Craig were watching the kids during their sleepover, you couldn't help but worry. Most mythical creatures don't survive after thirteen. Especially cross breeds. That's when a very sober blond sits beside you and tilts their head to the side. Their eyes are a light blue, and you can just barely see hints of a sunflower tattoo on their shoulder. They wore a light blue sweater, like their eyes, and a white skirt that fell to their knees. "What's a pretty gal like you doing in here?" They ask, very clearly confused. "Could ask you the same thing," you responded, taking a sip from your cup. It takes you a moment to register that they referred to you as female, as you quickly glance down at your outfit and nod to yourself. Right form. They roll their eyes, a slight smile on their face, "Well, I'm Marjorine, but most people call me Butters. Came out here to find a witch, I think his name was Tweek . . . ? My parents said I'm sick, hehe . . ." You smile back, realizing that they meant no harm, "I'm Mackenzie, but call me Kenny. I know Tweek, he's busy tonight. Mind me asking for your pronouns? And why they say your sick?" Marjorine stares for a moment before snapping back to reality and nodding, "Oh, uh, well . . . Gender neutral, I guess. They say I'm sick because I'm genderfluid . . ." Your smile quickly turns upside down as you pat them gently. It seems your aura has drawn this one to you. You always get the insecure ones, it seems. "I may seem a bit quick to judge, but . . . Wanna come to my place? Get it on?" You question, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on your lips. You've done this one too many times. They freeze for a moment, staring up at you in both confusion and slight fear, "I-I'm sorry, what?" "Sex. I want you to fuck me," you clarify voice raised back up to a normal tone instead of a seductive whisper. "No." The stern answer that comes out of their mouth surprises you, confusing you before you proceed to convince. "Aww, come on. I can be anything you want. I can male," with a snap of your fingers, your long blond hair is cut short, and your jawline sharp. "I can be a masculine female," snap. "I can a feminine male." snap. "I can even be all of the above, or neither." Snap. Your form changes to whatever you say. Brunette. Noirette. Ginger. Tattoos. No tattoos. Piercings. Anything and everything the blond wants. Yet, they still shake their head. "You be what you wanna be, fella. It's wrong for me to tell you how to present," Marjorine answered, reaching to pull something on their shoulder, only to discover it wasn't there. Your mind draws a blank as you half mindedly snap your fingers and return to your female form. You've never dealt with someone who said no. "What's the problem? Got a girlfriend or a wife to worry about? They won't find out~" You continue to try and persuade, yet Marjorine shakes their head once again. "Sorry, I'm not interested," they smiled cheerfully, "Sex isn't something I want to experience yet. I'd like to get to know you, though." Your brain shuts down, deciding that maybe it wasn't worth the trouble as you continue talking to them, "Fine, fine. What do you want to know?" "You're a succubus, aren't you? Kyle told me something about how people up here aren't normal. He wanted me to find a witch named Tweek an that his husband would be able to help me . . ." Marjorine said, beginning to ramble before shutting themselves up. You nod along with the phrases, "Yeah, there's only a couple humans up here. They're mainly hippies trying to get away from society," you say with a snicker of laughter. "What kind of creatures are up here?" They question, leaning over the bar as their curious blue eyes pour into your violet ones. You begin to ramble on about everyone you've met up here in the small mountain town of South Park. You mainly talk about Kyle and his powers, how he threw you through a wall in rage one time, and how he met Stan. It quickly turns into you talking about Stan and his twin brother, Damien, as the two sons of Satan. You talk about Tweek and Craig, about how they knew each other since kindergarten when Craig died very suddenly and Tweek took on his mother's place as the family witch. You don't mention how Craig died or Tweek's dad. You felt sickened to even mention his mom, even though she had nothing to do with all the drama between the Tweaks an Tuckers. You change the subject to Tricia, Ike, and Karen. You talk about how they're the only surviving mythical children up here so far, about how Karen is practically your daughter and how protective Craig can get over the three. Marjorine listens intently to all you have to say, they say they met Kyle in middle school, before he snapped and moved away from the big city to conceal his powers. They used to be close to Cartman before they figured out how much he was manipulating them. You two talk for hours on end before you decide you need to get home, and offer to take Marjorine with you to see Tweek and Craig since they were babysitting at his house. You take Marjorine home, where Kyle welcomes them from the house next door using the name Butters. They talk for a bit and marjorine mentions they'd rather go by that name than Butters, the ginger apologies and you head inside. Tweek sits in the living room, doodling something while you head upstairs to check on your dark angel. Ike, Tricia, and Karen lay on the mattress on the floor, covered in blankets an plushies with a flashlight on next to Karen's side of the bed. Craig isn't far from the bed, sitting in a chair and playing with one of the baby dolls Tricia brought. Hearing you open the door, he blindly looks around for the source of the sound with his empty and bloody sockets. You tap on the door and his blank gaze meets your bright one. "K . . . Kenny?" He questions, voice raspy and dry. You nod, forgetting he can't see such an action and adding on, "Yeah, it's me. Is Karen okay?" He cracks a weak smile, the moonlight reflecting off of the glass pieces in his neck, "Better than ever."

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offcolorkyle · 7 years

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the cryle ramble (the holy shit this is really long unedited version)

Craig and Kyle are two of the most popular South Park characters. Aside from having good character design, the personalities of these two boys are also really intriguing. They’ve certainly caught my attention, with Kyle being my favorite character and Craig not too far behind. What many people don’t talk about though is the surprisingly interesting relationship the two have. It’s interesting enough for me to sit down and write this long ass text post about these two fictional boys. Is this post inherently shippy though? No, it’s not. Although I do ship Cryle, it’s more an analysis of how the two view each other through canon interactions. I can offer evidence for these interactions, but since it’s 2am and I’m kind of tired and ready to just get these thoughts down and out on the mobile app I’m not gonna bother (ask me if you want my sources though). So without further ado, the Cryle Ramble.

The easiest thing to do in order to understand a relationship is to understand how the two characters operate separately. Craig is a lot easier to analyze in personality than Kyle is. Craig’s the dick. He flips off peers and teachers alike, gets in fights, and is almost always in and out of the counselors office. He’s standoffish, uncaring, and generally disinterested. Before TweekXCraig, he really only cared about his Guinea Pig; Stripe. That last bit is important later. Kyle, however, is a very aggressively opinionated and prideful, albeit with a good moral compass. He’s intelligent and not afraid to get his knuckles bloodied and bruised for the sake of his beliefs. Kyle is generally described as the sweet one, which he’s shown to dislike. He wants to be a respected and dependable person, someone people will look to in times of trouble for guidance. (I.e. becoming defensive enough to punch Clyde when his company start up is suggested to be a failure). Unlike Stan, who when in positions of leadership is viewed eventually as shallow and is really only in it for the attention and recognition he receives(jacking it in San Diego), Kyle desires positions of leadership because he longs to share his morals with the largest group of people possible. He wants to be a person people look up to, someone who’s willing to protect and fight for their beliefs. With that out of the way, the way Kyle interacts with Craig speaks a lot about how he sees him without being really that noticeable. In Season 12; ep. 10, Pandemic, Craig announces that he’s done with the crazy adventure the boys are on, “[he is] choosing not to be a part of this [adventure] anymore.” What Kyle does is so small and casual that people don’t even notice it. He asks Craig “How do you do that?”. Not important? Maybe, but it shows that Kyle is willing to ask Craig to explain things that he himself doesn’t understand. He hasn’t even considered that option before, and unlike the other three Kyle’s the one who wants to know and learn more from Craig. It’s a small gesture, but knowing that Kyle trusts Craig’s judgement enough to specifically ask him for help explaining things he can’t figure out. He’s nicer than the other boys in Stan’s gang are to Craig as well. In one scene, Craig and the main four switch places in the counselor’s office. Kyle is the only one to greet him on his way out, Cartman yelling at Craig not even a second after because he flipped the fatso off. Kyle does shit like this a lot. He actively takes interest in Craig and you know what? It works. In Season 9; episode 13, “Free Willzyx”, Kyle gathers all of the boys together to convince them to help him get the Whale back home. In the clip (which is actually on my blog), Craig anxiously looks around the room of kids before looking at Kyle, stating that the whale had talked to him too. Kyle, in a nonjudgmental and even slightly concerned tone, asks why Craig didn’t tell anyone. Craig, obviously less nervous, admits that it’s because he was afraid everyone would think that he was crazy. It’s when Kyle assures him whole heartedly that he isn’t crazy that Craig does something interesting. He whispers into his hand, “so it’s true,” in a way that makes him sound like a sudden realization has come over him. This is so interesting to me, because it shows that Craig is someone who trusts what Kyle says. He doesn’t think he’s a liar like Cartman or in it for attention like Stanley is. He genuinely believes him, and the fact that Kyle is so certain that a talking whale spoke to him has Craig’s brain fucking turning. This next bit is where Craig’s uncaring and indifferent personality says something about his relationship with Kyle. In one scene(screen shot also on my blog), all of the boys are over at Cartman’s house to watch Terrance and Phillip. Cartman kicks Craig off of his couch, and you know where Craig sits? Next to Kyle. Criss cross applesauce style. He doesn’t go to sit next to Clyde, and he doesn’t ask Kyle to move so he can sit next to Token, a boy who’s actually in his gang. He sits himself right next to the kid. The best part? Everyone starts laughing, and while all eyes are on the television, Craig looks at Kyle as he laughs. He even leans towards him a bit. That is pretty big for this kid, especially since I’m fairly certain the episode this scene was from came before Tweek x Craig. At this point, this is one of the few times Craig’s stand offish and dismissive personality sheds its skin to show that he does have interests in people. He enjoys Kyle’s company. This isn’t the only time Craig chose to be close to Kyle. He sits next to him in assemblies, and in The Fractured But Whole the two are on the same side. Craig is making an effort. A small one, but an effort nonetheless. It’s a big thing for the kid who literally flips off his whole family and is generally left to his own devices. Conclusion? Craig and Kyle have a genuine respect and interest in each other. Their interactions are cute and fun to watch, and the two even have long flap hats. These two boys make efforts to talk to each other, be near each other, and if Craig’s glance at and lean towards Kyle while the red head was busy laughing wasn’t enough proof that there is a genuine interest that the two have with one another, I don't know what is. All in all, they’re just two boys who I love very much and I think they need to be written and drawn together more often because of their subtle and endlessly adorable relationship with one another. It’s 3:35 am now. good NIGHT

#Cryle #sp cryle #south park #sp craig #sp kyle #kyle broflovski #craig tucker #ramble over #long post #in case the read more doesn't work #bye

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xluckytheninjax · 7 years

Photo

Tumblr’s messing with quality,and since I scanned ‘em,seems like some of the parts are too light to show up.

Anyway,here’s what I’ve been drawing for the past two weeks between studying and writing exams.Because of the new South Park games {The Fractured but Whole and Phone Destroyer} I got obsessed with South Park again.So,have two pages of stuff I drew of my New kid in the games.His name is Max Chaos.One of my OCs with the most backstory.Decided on playing as him in Stick of Truth,and yep.I can’t draw humans to save my ass,but they don’t look as bad.Because I can’t really draw humans,I can’t draw kids,so,you’ll see they look older...whatever.I used some pose references for basically all of these.Without references,I’d be lost.

I decided I’m gonna post his bio with the drawings,because why not?

A short ramble behind every scribble and Max’s bio is under the cut {Otherwise this is gonna get too long}

If you’re still reading,howdy!

Here’s a description or whatever of each scribble.

1 {First page,left at the top} - This is what Max looked like when he and his family first moved to South Park.He has quite a bunch of scars,the most noticible being the slash through his eye,the ones on his hands {Thanks printer for making that unseeable} and the one that looks like an ‘x’ on the back of his neck {Can’t be seen at this angle}.

2 {The one next to the first one,one with the hoodie} - Max is known for liking oversized hoodies and shirts.The one he likes most being the one he’s wearing in the drawing.Black and grey,with a white ‘13′ on the front,and on the back ,’Chaos’ and another big ‘13′.

3 {The two side views.One is half drawn} - Originally,his costume for FBW/playing superheroes had a little mask thing {The right side-view}.Then I drew him with skeleton facepaint with shorter hair...and it looked cooler.So,the story is that,with his parents fighting,his dad commented that his hair is getting too long,and he got a haircut.It was all fien and dandy.Then during counselling with Craig ‘n Tweek during FBW,where they had to fight the therapy kids,one of the kids took the mask.He says that the skeleton facepaint fits his costume and the shorter hair better anyway.

4 {The one at the top right corner} - This is what Max looked like at the end of Stick of Truth.As King Douchebag,he wears a crown,and a poncho with the crab chestplate underneath,and his weapons? Crossbow,katana and Greataxe of the Warrior,even if he was a mage. During the events of SoT,he got some more scars and stuff from messing with fire and fireworks,and ended up with a black eye.

5 {Under the two side views} - “This here town ain’t big enough for the two of us.”

I play Phone Destroyer,made Max again.Now with the cowboy outfit that everyone starts out with,just with feathers.

6 {Under the first picture on the left} - I just drew Max’s eyes and mouth.This would be after SoT and during FBW.That’s it....

7 {Bottom left corner} - The last of the real ones/Capes

The reason for the first name comes from something Kenny says as Mysterion while walking to the police station at the beginning of ‘The thin white line’.Listening FOB after watching the episode lead to me naming the sketch after the song.The reason for the other name ‘Capes’,is because both of them are facing away,showing off their capes.I altered the Mysterion costume a liiiitle bit and gave Max a costume that isn’t in the game,more a personal design. Here we can see the ‘x’ scar on his neck.

8 {At the bottom,middle} - I have no explanation for this.Just a space filler I guess.

9 {Bottom right corner} - Counselling

“After this,I think Max is gonna need counselling”

One of my favorite missions in FBW,is fixing Craig and Tweek’s relationship.I screwed up with the mask thing,as you can tell.This would be an anguement before fighting the therapy kids.Altered Craig’s costume because I can.I could’ve drawn better,but eh,whatever.

The next page!

10 {Bottom left corner} - “Just a crazy,patched up Matryoshka”

I found a Matryoshka music video with the South Park characters,then this happened.I tried writing Matryoshka in Japanese in the speech bubble,but I feel like I screwed that up.I took Max in SP,and gave him the facepaint I gave him in a picture of him I drew a long time ago.Changed his jacket from the original.He also wears a snapback,flipped backwards....forgot to add that.

11 {Top right corner} - “I don’t see how this saves us time m’lord.”

I already posted about this one here

12 {Bottom right corner} - It was then that he started questioning a lot of things.

“Let’s get that blood cleaned up..”

“No.”

“We’re gonna clean those damn wounds.”

“No.”

“Do these eyes look like they’re gonna take no for an answer.”

“…..No.”

“Exactly.”

“Y’know,being taller than me makes it more intimidating…”

“…That’s some real Twenty one pilots bs you got going on there,New kid.”

“… That was what I was going for.”

Probably my favorite drawing so far.You can guess who’s my favorite superhero.It’s Mysterion.I could’ve said Professor Chaos,but he isn’t a hero.It’s between them and Toolshed.

Wanted to draw a bigger version of Max with the facepaint to show off some detail...then this happened.He decided to not paint over his eye scar,nor his lip scar.He did paint over his black eye though.One can see the ‘x’ scar,and a little part of a scar on his hand.

Now forrr his bio,because I can.I am evil enough to make this post even longer.I’m bored too,so yeah.

A profile on the New Kid --------

Full name:

Maximus Winston Chaos

Nicknames:

Max,Chaos,and the names given to him by the others - New kid, Douchebag, Dovahkiin,Buttlord,Butthole,etc

Gamer tag:

ChaoticDestroyer

Gender:

Born male,identifies as male

Age:

10 {although that's not the case in my art but shh}

Nationality:

American

Parents: Although the names of the parents in the games are Kelly and Chris {I think?} ,I changed it for the sake of originality I guess?

Sebastian Thomas Chaos

Cierra Chaos

Pets:

He has a husky mix named Hunter

Sexual orientation:

Pansexual

Personality:

At first glance,Max looks like your typical tough,I-have-no-feelings-or-emotions guy,but is actually a big clumsy teddy bear.He's extremely quiet,even if he doesn't mean to be. Because of his gift,his family moves around a lot.Every time he gets brainwashed,leaving him without any memories of past friends,or making them.He gets forced to keep quiet,and that lead to him to be almost completely mute.Slowly he's talking again.But he only talks to certain people.His friends,but not his parents.He can be stubborn and sarcastic,but he can also be sweet and witty. He's innocent,that's how it seems at first,but trust me,he's not so innocent.A charmer.Very protective,cares a lot for all his friends,not afraid to start a fight. If he sees one of his buds are colder than usual,he will literally give them the hoodie he's wearing,then he trusts that they'll return it.Except Cartman.He dislikes him.Likes puns.

An undercover emo.

Single/Taken:

"I don't have a crush on anyone in paticular."

"That's a lie.You told me in the bathroom during the superhe- "

"Not now Wendy."

He doesn't have memory of previous relationships.He is banned from having romantic relationships.Doesn't keep him from having a crush though.

Star sign:

Cancer

Race:

White

Birthday:

3rd of July

Alignment:

Lawful

Hair color:

His hair is so light,it looks white

He dyes it for special occasions.As an example,he has dyed his hair candy corn colors for Halloween,and pastel pink for Valentines day.

Eye color:

One would think his eye color is red.

Height:

He's pretty tall in comparison to the others

Piercings/tattoos:

Both his ears are pierced,no tattoos

Scars:

When he first moved to South Park,he had only a slash going through his left eye and some other random scars from different things.After the events of Stick of Truth,he's stuck with a black eye he got during the attack on Clyde and a few more scratches and burns.During the events of the Fractured but Whole,he's got a slash through the right side of his mouth and a few more.Almost broke his arm.

More random facts:

-He has insomnia because of horrible nightmares.If he can't sleep,he climbs out the window onto the roof,where he built himself a little platform.He usually sits there watching the drunkasses below with a hoodie and a blanket.

-His favorite animal is a grizzly bear

-He talks in his sleep,if he gets sleep

-He has a fear of clowns,thunder and lightning.While he enjoys a nice calm day with rain and a little thunder,if the thunder gets worse he gets scared.He will never admit that though.

-Has a thing for facepaint

-He loves drinking ice tea,and Fanta

-He sleeps in a too big t-shirt,it's white with some purple,and a giant 13 on the front and back,and plaid pants

-He doesn't swear out loud,unless you anger him or if he's in costume {More specifically,Mutt}

-He has little drawings all over his journal

-The smell of alcohol disgusts him

-Not a bad singer

-Likes camping

-Has gotten stitches on his back after playing rugby.This was before they moved to South Park.

-Loves to climb trees

-He is right handed,but,has the ability to write with his left hand too

-Has never been to the beach

-Still has a probe up his ass

-Still has some gnome dust hidden in his drawer in case of emergency

-Very clumsy {gets him in lots of amusi- I mean embarrassing situations}

-He's very protective over the ones he loves,so,if he fights a guy,takes hits for you or if he gives you his hoodie,know he cares

-Likes spooky scary skeletons

-Has fallen off the back of a truck (don't worry,it wasn't moving)

-Has gotten lost in a corn field (don't ask how or why)

-Favorite food is tacos

-Genius

-Not a bad shot with a bow and crossbow,but prefers melee weapons like swords,spears and such

-His class during the wizard and humans vs elves thing (Stick of Truth) was mage.He likes messing with fire and fireworks.

-He ditched Cartman the moment Kyle asked him to join the elves instead.While he likes Butters and Kenny,Cartman's too bossy for his liking.Kyle is much cooler and he likes hanging with Stan and Jimmy.

-His classes before Doctor Timothy allowed him to have every class during the superhero thing (Fractured but whole) were Blaster - Elementalist - Assassin - Plantmancer

-When they played pirates,he was a navigator and scout

-While they were acting out a zombie apocalypse,he was a group leader

-He has two superhero personalities During missions with the others,he is Chaos Destroyer.He based it off his gamer tag,which is ChaoticDestroyer.He wears skeleton facepaint,a dark red cloak,black shirt underneath with a blood red skull n crossbones,a tool belt (with daggers,fireworks,the works),and dark grey pants,with black combat boots.

One night he took on a wolf like persona because there wasn't time to get into normal costume {It was on a special mission,with literally only one of the guys}.While this one doesn't have an official name,he was called quite a few...some obviously worse than others.He refers to the persona as Mutt.He wears his PJs,his wolf hat,a dark hoodie,claw like slippers,fingerless gloves and his dog's spiked collar.He then uses his apocalypse ready baseball bat,and his flip knife as weapons.He's a little more open to express his opinion as this persona. "I'm gonna break your fcking skull and snap your neck." "I got called a furry.Like bitch,do I look like Cartman to you?"

-His kryptonite is math.Math scares him {and me}

-If he was a companion,his SoT moves would consist mostly of fire related attacks.He would have the ability to heal too.His FbW moves depend on persona.As CD,his normal moves would consist of one heal/protection move,one ranged move and one close combat move...all which I'm unsure about.Ultimate would have a similarity to Kyle's one move from SoT.An army of skeletons firing arrows on command at a big part of the board. As Mutt,his moves consist of melee based attacks and one protection/heal.One with his baseball bat {knockback},one with his knife {causes bleeding}.His heal/protection would make him switch places with another player.His ultimate....I don't know.Will probably only have an effect on one enemy.

-Both personas have comments on everything.Because of skeleton like appearance,CD likes using skeleton related puns.As an example. "I've got a bone to pick with you assholes." "You don't even have the guts to take me on." {Winning a battle} "Looks like these freaks didn't have the spine/backbone to take us on." {Going down in battle} "Tibia honest,I was getting bone tired anyway."

Mutt on the other hand...has no puns,only sarcasm,and normal commentary...If his pals go down,he'll have a nicer choice of words to say to them...and still some angry words to the enemies,'specially the ones hitting his pals.Maybe a threat or two and growling. "I'm ready to kick some ass and take names." "You okay there? No? ALRIGHT WHICH ONE OF YOU ASSHOLES DID IT?!" "Who wants me to knock their ass out with my bat?!"

I’ll probably add more stuff as it comes to mind.

#south park #south park the stick of truth #south park the fractured but whole #sp the stick of truth #sp the fractured but whole #sp #stick of truth #fractured but whole #phone destroyer #south park phone destroyer #south park the new kid #south park oc #sp the new kid #south park new kid #kenny mccormick #butters stotch #tweek tweak #craig tucker #more south park tags

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blame-canada · 7 years

Text

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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