LADIES AND GENTLEMEN AND COCKROACHES MAY I PRESENT TO YOU THE INFAMOUS

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1. Post your character with a comment on this here meme.
2. Others will comment on your characters, anonymously or logged in, suggesting ships and prompts they want you to write about.
3. Anything goes, from fluffy to smut to everything in between! Also, there is no word limit, so it can be as short or as long as you want.
4. ????????
5. ALL THE SHIPPING EVER AND ALSO FEELINGS 

GO GO GO AND SHIP FOR GREAT JUSTICE

also just a note BUT THIS ISN'T LIMITED TO JUST SCRIB PEOPLE you could put your character's ancestors/guardians and whatnot for the shipping too if you want to, whatever floats your boat

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Cheriour mother henning Shea

"Oh my GOD!! SHEA!!!"

The shriek was loud enough to pierce a really healthy eardrum- it was really lucky, Shea thought, that she wasn't standing next to the person the shriek had come from. Though what wasn't lucky was the fact that she had tripped and tumbled down the hill like a total idiot after she had lost her footing. She groaned, trying to get a sense of her surroundings and whether she had broken anything.

Oh, god. Ow. Yep, that right ankle was definitely not going to be used anytime soon. It was twisted at an odd angle, and hurt to look at, even though it itself was pretty numb at the moment. She blinked and turned away, frowning.

"SHEA!! I'm coming!! Stay there!"

Oh, right. She had been walking with none other than Mr. I Love Clocks himself, and he had been the one screeching before when she had lost her footing. She tried to lift up her head, squinting to see where he was, but all she could see was the huge insurmountable face of the rocky hill, standing tall and cold against the grey sky.

She was lucky she didn't break anything more than her ankle, she mused, trying to ignore the horrible feeling that shuddered through her entire body. She could've...could've...

She didn't want to think about it.

And suddenly, she felt somebody scoop her up with long bony arms that held a surprising amount of strength for someone so lanky. She blinked up into bright orange eyes, creased in concern.

"There you are. Let's go. I'm going to get help, okay?"

"Cheriour...?"

He grinned, seemingly happy that she was responding to him. Shea couldn't see where he was carrying her...how had he gotten down here so fast? She posed the question to him, and he merely shook his head.

"Oh, there's a path down that we were almost nearby...hey, but at least I got to you in time! Now shush, you, Shea, I don't want you to talk for too long. I saw your ankle...it must hurt a lot. I'll try to get the consorts to help and I'll fight off any imps and...I'll just make sure you're going to be okay! Okay?"

"God, Cheriour, I'm no damsel in distress," she said with a wince, but she couldn't really say anything more than that, because she noticed the scrapes on his face, and the slight clumps of dirt in his hair, and the fact that his glasses were askew on the top of his head where he must have pushed them on haphazardly after he got up from sliding down the rocky hill she just fell down.

There was no path, really, after all. And he was carrying her up the side of the steep hill slowly, but with an ever present smile on his face and a concerned parade of words to her that never left despite the pain he was in himself.

He was never going to stop caring for her more than himself, was he?