#quasi-awful

[parjuuzwoonn5]

Cum in her big white ass Kreamy Koochie Hairy duo rimming ass and tugging cocks Hairy muscle hunks fuck Hot beauty gets her foot licked wildly while toying her fur pie Gay males undressing straight and shy blowjob Bobbing up and down, Step Daughter Gives a Deepthroat Blowjob For Some Pocket Money Charming pornstar has some fun sucking and riding cock Tegucigalpa onice le dan duro Tight shaved pussy on perfect young white slut Dolly Darkley gets drilled by huge cock

[frenchublog]

[nerissalmao]

I don’t know exactly what it would entail, but imagine a version of Hellfire but it’s Esmeralda singing it about Frollo. Yes, a total crack idea, but given all the female covers of the song online I think it would work well with a female voice. And also the pure concept of a role reversal like that would be chilling. Like yes we know how kind Esmeralda is, but what if we just bent that personality a liiiitle bit and she sings her own version about him? You know, for uhm scienceeee..

Ignore the awful eye editing on my gothic more sinister looking Esmeralda thing I made for this AU, I used an effing “vampire maker” and expected it to have green eyes. Womp womp, Nerissa, womp womp.

But uhm yeah VILLAIN ESMERALDA, people.

[cosmicrhetoric]

even the comphet in nana was crazy

[ficuscircus]

HPI rewatch: 207, "55 kilos"

[verecunda]

Ewen pulled his bonnet lower on his brows, and, bending his head against the sleety blast, set his face with the rest towards the fatal stretch of moorland, the last earthly landscape that many a man there would ever see. But over that possibility he was not troubling himself; he was wondering whether it were possible to be much hungrier, and what his foster-brothers would do when they returned and found him gone into battle without them. And like a litany he repeated to himself, to be sure that he remembered them aright, the directions Mac Dhomhnuill Duibh had given him: 'Half-way up the southern slope of Beinn Bhreac, about a hundred paces to the right of the waterfall...' Just as they were all taking up their positions, a gleam of sun shot through the heavy, hurrying clouds and fell bright upon the moving tartans, Stewart and Cameron, Fraser, Mackintosh, Maclean, and MacDonald, lighting too the distant hills of Ross across the firth, whence Cromarty came not, and the high ground over the Nairn water on the other hand, where Cluny Macpherson was hurrying towards them with his clan, to arrive too late. Then the gleam went out, and the wind howled anew in the faces of those who should spend themselves to death unavailingly, and those who should hold back for a grudge; it fluttered plaid and tugged at eagle's feather and whipped about him the cloak of the young man for whom the flower of the North stood here to be slain; and faint upon it, too, came now and then the kettledrums of Cumberland's advance.

The Flight of the Heron, D.K. Broster

[thecncitygirls]

Honestly when was the last time we had a genuine action cartoon? Not like ones for older audiences but for kids and teens? I know we had Stretch Armstrong & the flex fighters and Young Justice outsiders and OK KO but that show was more comedy. I mean a genuine honest to blob action show? Where's the teen titans and spectacular spidermen and gen rexes and Gargoyles?

[m-ultraarticles]

Broken Lizard Are in Awe of Quasi, a Dumb Idea of 20 Years Ago

We chat with the comedy troupe about their new Medieval comedy ‘Quasi’ and the miracle of seeing their words transformed into live-action. Hulu By Brad Gullickson · Published on May 18th, 2023 Welcome to World Buildersour ongoing series of conversations with the industry’s most productive and thoughtful behind-the-scenes craftspeople. In this entry, we chat with the Broken Lizard comedy troupe…

[ellecdc]

My love!! I have an idea for fic (only if you want to of course) james potter x reader where james is obsessed with reader’s tits and after a minor couple arguments james was still sulking and reader wants him to be the first one to talk to her so she wear very revealing clothes to tease him and he give in.

It doesn’t have to be a smut, just teasing and fluff!

hahaha awe this is so funny - the best part is, it would so work!!! Thanks for requesting 🫶

James Potter x fem!reader

CW: mention of boobs/tits/love of tits - no smut, joke about dying from suffocation on account of boobies

You were being petty; both of you were. In fact, the two of you seemed to be working overtime just to stay mad at each other at this point.

You can’t even really remember what you had argued about in the first place that caused this rift between you and James; all you knew was that you were not going to be the first to apologize.

It had been a few days since the big blow up that saw James uncharacteristically stern and firm in his words and left you feeling horribly defensive in response. Words were said, feelings were hurt, and now you were here.

Here being this awkward quasi-polite energy in your few measly interactions as you tried to co-exist in the same flat.

He made dinner one night - shrimp korma and a side of homemade naan - and you may have been mad, but you weren’t a jerk, so you thanked him for it.

You had been cleaning the flat one day and started a load of wash. You had more than enough room for more clothes, and not doing James’ wash just for the sake of it wasn’t worth the extra hit to your water bill (which wasn’t an issue, but old habits die hard in your case), so you threw his in too. And once it was washed and dried, well, you figured you might as well fold it and put it away for him. 

He had to begrudgingly thank you for that as well.

So now it was the weekend, and the two of you were clearly dying to update each other on your weeks. You couldn’t help but admit that you really missed James. You missed chatting with him, you missed laughing with him, you missed venting to him, and you missing cuddling with him.

There were other things you missed but... that was neither here nor there. 

All this to say, the feud needed to end.

But you were steadfast in your stance that you were not going to break first.

The idea came to you yesterday morning when James returned from his run sans shirt and muscles glistening with sweat in a way that actually had your mouth watering like some kind of deranged off-brand Pavlov experiment. The worst part was that James had noticed you ogling him and walked away to shower (alone, the bastard) with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

No matter, this just served to give you your brilliant master plan to win him back.

You had something James adored... two things, as a matter of fact.

Anyone who knows James Potter knows that James is a certified Boob Guy™. More specifically, James Potter loved your tits. You had two assets free to use in this battle, and you weren’t going to let that advantage go to waste. 

The weather, it seemed, supported your master plan and was finally warm and sunny enough to break out some of your more... revealing clothing. Today’s ensemble consisted of a particularly low neckline and tight-fitting tank top. You gathered a book and a bottle of water as you walked towards the back door for the terrace. James, being completely unable to break his good mannerdness even in the face of petty feuds, jumped up to get the door for you when he noticed that your hands were full. 

You made a point to use your elbows to encourage the girls a little closer together as he approached, causing him to stumble in his steps as his eyes strayed from his destination.

“Thanks, Jamie.” You murmured quietly, making sure a cool sense of indifference still coloured your tone. That seemed to shake James from his reverie as he looked up at you, a look of regret seeming to cross his face briefly at not being able to do what he would normally opt to in this situation (i.e., shove his face between them and die due to suffocation). 

“’Course.” He offered instead of saying “oh my god I love your boobies” and cleared his throat, closing the door gently behind you as you made your way to a lounge chair. 

You knew James wouldn’t have gotten far, so you read a few pages before deciding to step up this little ruse.

You slipped your tank top off to display your torso, boobs only supported by a thin bandeau wrapping around your chest. You poured a little water into your hair and then onto your chest to cool off when you heard a solid thunk on the panned glass of your back door. 

When you turned to look, you saw James’ retreating form and the tell-tale imprint of his forehead against the window where he had been standing previously. 

Though you knew you made an impact today, James seemed resolute in his sulking. No matter, tomorrow was a brand-new day.

Being a brand-new day, your morning outfit was a pair of joggers that you rolled the waist band a few times to expose more abdomen paired with a cropped top that was probably a touch too cropped to begin with, let alone paired with your currently braless state.

You could have sworn you heard James try (and fail) to suppress a groan as you entered the kitchen. You hid a smirk as you offered him a faint ‘morning’ and began readying yourself a cup of tea.

Apparently, James’ self-restraint snapped when you stood on your tip-toes to reach the honey on the second shelf of your cupboard; the action of you raising your arm causing your shirt to also lift sinfully.

“Angel.” He keened, causing you to turn your (what you hoped to look like an) innocent expression on him.

“Yes, Jamie?”

He groaned again and stood from the breakfast table, taking slow, cautious steps towards you. “I’m so sorry, love I... I hate that I let us go this long upset with each other.”

Your mouth pinched to the side as you spread your arms – inviting James into your embrace which he was all too eager to accept. “I’m sorry too, bubs. I’ve been immature.”

He half-chuckled half-groaned into your shoulder as the two of you relished in the feel of being in the other’s arms. 

“You are a cheeky little minx, torturing me like this.” He muttered.

“Like what?”

James scoffed and pulled back to look at you incredulously, but any mirth in his face was completely curtailed by the fondness oozing from his warm brown eyes.

“Oh, I’ve missed you.” He said as he bent his knees to be at eye level with your tits before he shoved his face right between them.

You rolled your eyes though he couldn’t see it, asking “who? Me or my tits?”

He was quiet for a moment as he thought about his answer. “Both?” He said, voice muffled from his place in your chest.

“I’ll allow it on account of your withdrawal.” You conceded. 

Note to self: all future arguments can be solved by flashing a little under-boob. 

[stickandthorn]

The way Terry Pratchett handled police in the Discworld continues to be one of the many, many things I love about his works. I certainly don’t have time to describe all the details of why he wrote such good policing, but I think the best summation of it is the arc that Sam Vimes had in many of the books.

I haven’t read all the watch books, but in the ones I have, there’s often a similar plot structure. We meet a truly detestable criminal Vimes is chasing down (think the Deep Downers in Thud, or Carcer in Night Watch). They show themselves to be truly awful people who do awful things, and they’re also just plain jackasses. They’re characters you hate to read about, the grind the audience’s gears. They also grind Sam Vimes’s gears. 

Throughout the story, they commit more and more crimes. Horrible crimes, like torturing and killing innocent people, or practicing violent religious extremism. They do things that personally target our protagonist, like go after his wife and son, or relentlessly taunt him and try to kill him and his past self. They consistently do bad things, and even as Vimes is chasing them, they do more bad things. You want them to be punished.  Finally, at the climax, we get some sort of final confrontation between the villain(s) and Vimes. In a different book, Vimes might kill the people who sent people to hurt his infant son, or tortured and killed innocent people, and the audience would probably cheer. In fact, Vimes wants to kill them. 

But he doesn’t. Every time, he suppresses the urge to enact his own justice, and he doesn’t kill them. He arrests them. Because, as he says many times, if you’ll do something for a good reason, you’ll do it for a bad. Even when there’s every excuse as to why this particular villain doesn’t deserve to live, he just arrests them. It’s not his job to decide how they should be punished for their crimes.

I think this is a masterful takedown of police brutality and Punisher style characters. Vimes isn’t a perfect person, it’s not that he could never dream of killing the bad guy. He can, and he does, often. But he never follows through, he understands why he can’t do that, so no matter how tempting it is, he doesn’t.

Because in this story, the hard boiled cynical cop truly believes in following the law. The message is always that law enforcement killing a criminal is never ok, even if they’re undeniably guilty of something truly dreadful. Hell, police brutality is personified as a millennia old demonic quasi-deity possessing Vimes, one that’s never been beaten before, but he beats it and doesn’t give in. I think that’s a really unique message in cop stories, and another reason as to why Pratchett was such a good author. 

[yourplayersaidwhat]

All out of character during a semi-in-character, quasi-canon holiday party at the Cleric’s player’s house:

Paladin (dying of a plague in-game): Okay, my turn for presents!

Sorcerer: I got you some red hair accessories since that’s your character’s favorite color.

Paladin: Aw, you always know just what to get me!

(He did not, in fact, know just what to get her.)

Cleric: I got you some gloves, partially because you mentioned wanting some, but also so that you don’t touch me and give me the plague.

Paladin: Okay, ha ha, but thanks for these!

DM: I got you vitamin gummies.

Paladin: are you fucking serious

DM: Get well soon!

[akajustmerry]

I love how in yellowjackets the implied cannibalism is a quasi-religious ritual portrayed with horrific awe, but in class of 07 my aussie girlies are like "fuck it we've boiled the last shoe let's host a survivor tribal council to vote who we eat" and then they film it like survivor elimination. thas what I call a cultural dichotomy innit

[victoriansecret]

Servants and Upward Mobility

This is focused on paid servants in England in the mid-late 18th century. One thing I find fascinating about the structure of domestic service roles was the existence of what essentially we might call a career ladder today. It was not uncommon for a servant to start their career near the bottom of the hierarchy as, say, a boot boy who cleans the shoes and boots of the household, or the scullery maid who does all the dirty kitchen work like scrubbing iron cooking vessels or plucking chickens, but progressively move up the list to better positions.

Part of why this was the case was that it was typical in England to hire servants for one year terms at a time. Often they'd be hired at festivals on the quarter days of the year, which as part of the festivities would often include what today we'd call a job fair. For some reason, Michaelmas (September 29) seems to be the most common as far as I can tell. I had never really thought about why that might be until I started planning this post, and I now wonder if it might have something to do with that being right around when harvest time usually comes in England. I could easily imagine people, especially young people, being on the cusp of another labourious harvest and thinking that maybe they could find another job instead. Related tangent: There are a number of remarks in the period that servants from the northern parts of England were considered to be much more respectful than servants from more populated, urban areas. Those communities were (at least considered to be) a lot stricter about remembering one's place and respecting your social 'betters', and their behaviour as servants was believed to reflect that. Some people would actively have their agents look to hire people from those rural areas, and apparently it was easy to attract potential employees: there are a number of remarks about how when a fancy carriage would drive through a small town, with the fancily-liveried footmen riding on the back, it would bring young people to stare in awe and want to be part of that. Which as someone whose interest in domestic service started in part because of my obsession with livery, I can understand. Anyway, back to the main point: because they often served one-year terms, there was an annual chance for both parties - the servant and the served - to review and determine how to move forward. A servant who was favoured might negotiate for a new position in the household, at least one step higher on the ladder (if not more), and they had leverage because they could leave the field entirely or possibly go off to a new household and find a higher position there. There was also a practice of asking for your master or mistress to provide a "character", essentially what we would today call a reference: a letter to show potential employers detailing their behaviour and skill in their role. Certainly there were times that some employers refused to give a good character, and sometimes that was explicitly because they wanted to keep the servant because they were a valuable asset to their household, but it was considered part of the obligation of the master class to be honest in these.

And it is not at all uncommon to find people who have served many different people/households throughout their career. The most I have seen is 28, although that's slightly misleading: that was a man who decided he wanted to travel, so hired himself to gentleman going on journeys for the duration of the trips, many of which were only a couple months. (The book he published, which he wrote about his travels and the "exotic" places and people he encountered, is interesting, and for my purposes super helpful because he turned out to be a narcissist and wrote a lot about himself, including his career as a servant. It's the only quasi-memoir of a paid servant from this time I am aware of. I might write a post about it/him sometime. I digress.) [continued in next post]

[y-rhywbeth2]

Hmm, there's probably something there; with Gortash internalising the Hells' attitude towards deities (they're very powerful beings, but not special), He's not the most experienced planewalker, but he's seen some weird shit.

And then he meets the offspring of a god and absolutely nothing about Durge phases him. He was the slave of the half-mortal son of an archdevil who was... very much a person under all that bullshit. A quasi-deity is pretty much the same thing. He doesn't bat an eyelid as he shoos the slayer because, even if he's never seen the avatar of Bhaal specifically, it's still nothing he hasn't seen before. Sure, they have power and that's worth something, but it's still not really unique or new to him. Their crimes and "quirks"? He's been to Hell, he's seen them all and then some.

And the Dark Urge, who is used to being a terrible thing that inspires terror and awe and worship (and Othering) is just ??? What. It's frustrating. It's fascinating. It lets them have an actual human connection for the first time in god-knows how long.

[morganbritton132]

Inquiring minds want to know, has the tiktok saga gotten Eddie and the rest of Hellfire any guest spots on any d&d actual play streams?

Awe, man, they do! Of course, they do! This is such a brilliant idea and I’m kinda mad I didn’t think of it.

It’s actually Dustin who gets involved.

I’ve always imagined Dustin as like, a Hank Green type.

During the early days of YouTube, he created a change and has grown a pretty good following on there with his science videos. It’s very educational while also being interesting and fun. Dustin could definitely make YouTube his full-time job if he posted more regularly but he loves his career and YouTube is really just a hobby.

But because Dustin is pretty popular and very open about his interests, he gets invited on a D&D stream and it’s great. The party wasn’t playing regularly at the time and Dustin had talked about missing the game and the characters he’s created over the years.

Since it went off with a hitch and Dustin was a fan favorite, he was invited back to play again. He mentioned that he has some quasi-famous friends who are really into the game and may be interested in playing too. Eddie doesn’t answer his phone so Dustin ends up bringing Jeff with him (Eddie is pissed and betrayed when he finds out).

Dustin never accepts another offer to be a guest on a D&D stream after that because his life just gets very hectic. He accepted a research position that takes him out of the country, gets back together with Suzie, breaks up with Suzie, and then moves back to Chicago just in time for COVID.

It’s not until Eddie gets popular on TikTok that they even think to do their own stream. Hellfire Club has been zooming D&D sessions since a month into lockdown and most of them have some kind of social media presence. They could stream their own game.

They actually make it a charity event so Erica doesn’t get criticized for having COVID-guidelines approved fun.

Once lockdown is over and the guidelines loosen up a lot, Eddie actually makes a video on TikTok talking about Jeff and Dustin’s betrayal and how he’d love to go on one of these D&D podcast things and then immediately gets invited to three of them.

[pearl-blue-musings]

snow angel

This is purely self indulgent and healing in a way

Pairing: Alhaitham x fem!reader x Kaveh

Warnings: 18+, mental health issues, depression, slight blood, angst, comfort, feelings of worthlessness, thoughts of unalive, attempted unalive, can be seen as platonic or romantic, based on a song

Word count: ~2.3K

Reblogs and feedback appreciated!

Alhaitham never had to worry too much about you. And that worried him.

Kaveh never had to worry too much about you. And that worried him.

The two of them invited you, along with some other scholars and explorers on their investigation into Dragonspire. Never having traveled to Mondstadt but hearing of the wintery beauty that is the mountain top, you were excited to leave the contrasting humidity and arid-ness of Sumeru. You made sure that the bickering roommates had the appropriate outerwear for dealing with the frosty chill and thin air. You had happily helped them pack as you were packing your own things and getting your affairs in order before your expedition.

Hssss

The voice at the back of your head sends a chill down your spine and threatens to overflow. Your heart feels heavy from hiding and masking your feelings to push on further. Two pairs of eyes have now stopped on your visage as you seem to be frozen. You lick your lips in hopes of keeping the lump in your throat down. Their voices are barely legible as your shallow breaths fill your ears.

“Are you alright?”

You meet concerned red eyes as a hand on your shoulder shakes you from your stupor. You give Kaveh a knowing smile after a second of silence. The smile doesn’t quite meet your eyes and that doesn’t go unnoticed by both men. You say your rehearsed lines of “oh sorry, I’m fine! I didn’t mean to worry you,” with the added, “let’s get a move on” to keep them close but not too close.

Keeping your heart guarded, the expedition to the base campground went without a hitch. Despite the two arguing every now and then, it was an enjoyable adventure. You never understood why scholars thought Alhaitham as stoic and rude, he had the magic to make you laugh and feel competent. While Kaveh, that man made your aspirations seem attainable and your feelings validated. Well, the ones he knew about. You were thankful for having your own tent so they wouldn’t hear your soft crying or how your racing thoughts kept you awake. You thought they would never question why you would make the whole team breakfast before heading further in.

The weather started to change, alerting you and the team of your closeness to the base camp. Since you were a quasi leader, you venture ahead to find the adventurers to guide you through the snowy trail. Alhaitham watches you carefully and with a tight lipped breath he pulls Kaveh back. The blond immediately scoffs and is about to retort until he sees the expression in his friend's eyes. “What’s with the serious look?”

The man in question crosses his arms with a far off look. “I assume you’ve heard her crying? She thinks she’s hiding it but I hear it. And your tent has been closer.” Kaveh turns his head to see you looking through the map excitedly with the adventurer, your eyes widening over the mountainous terrain ahead of you. He didn’t want to admit it, but it broke him to hear you cry. What is going on in your precious brain? Why are you suffering alone? He doesn’t believe the lies you’ve been shoveling the two of them. “I’m just home sick,” you’d say. Or “I miss the warmth of Sumeru.” Kaveh knew that last one wasn’t true, considering you were in awe of Liyue’s weather and land. He knows he can’t ask you outright, but he’s worried more than ever. And so is Alhaitham.

To your group's surprise, one of the knights decided to help you out and guide you to his lab. Albedo, you learn, frequents the mountain and has his own base that is well kept and has enough provisions. With your parka and boots on, you begin the first leg of your excursion. Albedo speaks with all of you of the ruins and layout of the mountains, eager about what scholars from Sumeru will learn and take back. You get along easily with the knight, who you learned is a painter! There were a few run-ins with hillichurls but your guides and friends took care of them easily. After a grueling half day, you made it to Albedo’s corner. You were able to safely put your stuff down and set up camp. With the limited space, sharing tents and sleeping space was needed.

After you all settled in, Albedo shared a more intricate map that he created, pointing out areas of interest for your team. Strikingly, he suggested the team get acclimated to the snow and weather by walking around and playing in it. A small smile came to your face as you saw Alhaitham grimace at the idea, but you found yourself running out into the snow. You slowly trudge to a cliff side and take in a deep breath. You can see Mondstadt and parts of Liyue and the view steals all the air in your lungs. Your foot teeters on the edge, a few stray pebbles falling down the side. That voice pricks at your brain again to take a step; it’s gotten to be louder the closer you’ve gotten to the snowy terrain. A stray tear leaves your eye and you feel it almost freeze against your chilly skin. Something startled you inside and you stumble away from the edge. You felt something. How is it cold but your extremities are burning? You felt. You felt.

An almost cynical smile comes to your face as you fall back in the snow. The sky above a confusing mix of grays and blues with the sunsetting faraway. The wind blows harshly against your nose and eyelashes as you blink away snowflakes that dance across your features. You push yourself up when Kaveh calls out for you to come back to Albedo’s. When he sees the ghost of your smile his own heart leaps in hope that he’ll see you smile some more. He’s happy that you’re sitting next to him eating the goulash provided. Your head rests against his shoulder and Kaveh is secretly lucky you can’t hear his racing heart. He’s also unknowingly lucky he misses the intense glare from Alhaitham. When you finish your food, a yawn escapes your lips. You stretch out and announce to everyone you’re heading to your, now, shared tent with bicker and bickering. They wave at you and you head in for the night.

Alhaitham was intrigued by the knights knowledge and can’t wait to pick his brain about what they would find tomorrow. Kaveh on the other hand was more interested in the beauty Albedo is able to find in the icy wilderness. There’s a stillness mixed with the bustle of energy the mountains contain. The architect is excited to implement these ideas into his creations and beams at Albedo’s ability to answer all of his questions. After a couple of hours, they all breakaway for the night, noting the drop in temperature and increase in wind speed.

Kaveh rubs at his arms to warm them up, his heart sinking that you might be cold in their tent. Their tent, that mere thought has him blushing hard. He shakes his head as he brings his lantern to your tent and opens it. The two men do their best to not disturb you, and bicker, but stop when they see you’re not there. Fear quickly settles in as they notice your footprints in the snow. Alhaitham remembers what Albedo warned them about nights on the mountains, and now he’s at a loss for words.

The pair of men scramble to close the tent and follow your footsteps. The wind makes it harder to breathe so they keep their words to a minimum. With eye communication, they press on fearfully to where your footprints lead. Alhaitham is seldom scared, and when he is he hides it well. However, Kaveh can see the worry in his eyes with his eyebrows pressed together. Kaveh is about to continue on when Alhaitham stops him. The blond lifts his eyebrows until he sees Alhaitham point to the ground. There’s extra footprints. Alhaitham rushes forward as best he could in the weather as for once his feelings lead his actions. Why didn’t he speak to you about your crying? Why didn’t he speak to you about the lack of food you’ve been consuming? Why didn’t he make a comment about the bags and lines under your eyes, eyes that always sparkle for him?

******

You just wanted to feel something. Or nothing. Both? The effect of the goulash is starting to wane the farther you walk. The boars you ran into earlier calmly left you alone as you pressed further. You spotted on Albedo’s map a way to the top of the mountain without climbing onto the extremities. Maybe if you would reach the top, you’d find your reason for living. And maybe you’d feel the things you’re meant to feel. Or the cold would numb you completely and you wouldn’t feel anything at all. Both are good options. The former is happier, the latter more tempting.

You somehow managed to reach the entrance of some ruin with stone slabs. The wind is too intense for you to handle, but you’re running on pure adrenaline. You push and push until finally the wind pushes back. You gasp as you’re lifted up and thrown back into the snow, hitting your head on the way down.

There it is again, that numb feeling where you’re cold but it burns. It’s feeling but not feeling. You try to touch your head and your fingertips are coated in red. It doesn’t alert you, your heart rate doesn’t change. You lay back down, tears falling and freezing against your cold skin. “I tried,” you whisper before shutting your eyes.

******

The two men are shivering in their boots as they find where your footprints end. Kaveh is thankful Alhaitham put markers while they tracked you down, as he has no idea where they are. They see what looks to be remains of a city entombed in snow. In the distance they see enlightened stone slabs and a slightly open door with a cave to the right. He’s also finally able to see you. The man almost cried as he pushes himself to run toward you. He huffs haphazardly as his emotions start to get the better of him. You’re just laying there in the snow, with a crown of red circling your head like a halo. Kaveh starts to call your name and places his hand on your cheek. His own tears start to fall freely as he takes you in.

Alhaitham comes up behind you and puts his, well your bag down. He knew your bag had the first aid and he takes it out. He carefully lifts your head and your groan. “Thank the archons,” he whispers before starting to wrap your head. Kaveh holds your hand, trying to warm it up, his voice a soft whimper. Once you were carefully assessed for any other injuries, Alhaitham carries you to the cave where there happens to be a camp with firewood. He gently lays you down and wraps you in a blanket. Kaveh starts the fire to keep them warm and hugs you tightly. The air in the cave is more dense and less windy, giving them the chance to speak.

“How long,” Kaveh starts, “do you think she was up here?”

Alhaitham clenches his hands into fists at the thought of you being here alone. “I’m no doctor so I can’t say for certain. But I know her groaning is a good sign. She’s alive, hurt but alive.”

Kaveh sniffles from the cold and his rushing emotions. “Why did she do this?”

“…we can ask her when she wakes up.”

*****

The world seems blurry as voices mesh together. You feel warm and stuck, with a massive headache. You can’t totally move, but you feel secure. Your eyes slowly flutter open and you hiss. Your throat feels drier than the desert of Sumeru. As you take in your surroundings, you're slightly confused. And then you remember. To either side of you are your tent mates and you realize why you felt stuck.

Kaveh is holding you tightly as Alhaitham rests in your lap. Your cheeks muster some heat at the closeness. Did they come find you? Why would they do that?

“Can you stop moving? You’re making sleeping hard.”

Your eyes go wide when you hear Alhaitham’s low morning voice. You see him peer at you through a sleepy haze. You swallow a lump in your throat as you feel the dam break as you cry. Kaveh’s arms tighten around you as he nuzzles your neck.

“Don’t,” he softly breathes, “scare me like that.”

You nod against him and brokenly say, “I’m sorry.”

Alhaitham hums. “We know.”

Your tongue feels caught in a web but the need to unload your heart overcomes you. “…I try so hard to exist. And it hurts.” Kaveh squeezes you tighter. “I just wanted to feel something, anything. And the cold burned, I’ve never felt anything like that. I needed a reason to feel, to keep trying. I do so much and it all feels so meaningless. I thought if I made the top I’d find meaning…but if I died along the way, that would be fine too.”

Your heart starts to lift and feel lighter. It’s not everything you wanted to say or felt, but it captured most of it. Alhaitham tangles his fingers with yours, heart fluttering at the rush of blood under your skin. He won’t say it now as you are recovering, but he wants to be the person you lean on. He never wants you to battle and suffer on your own, and he’s sure Kaveh shares the same sentiment. He’s able to peek at the edge of the cave and sees the early rays of the morning. He hesitates moving you back to Albedo's base and starts hatching a plan of why the three of them left early. He sits up and sees the two of you with tear tracks on your cheeks and his heart swells. “Don’t worry me so much you two.”