#‘please do not the gods’ vs ‘bleed the gods dry and use their blood to give yourself SuperBlood(tm)’

[chemos-factories]

Conversely, the ecclesiarchy and the healing church is the opposite

The ecclesiarchy and the abbey of the everyman is the same

[celticfeather]

Chpt 1 Here

Chapter 7: Yatagarasu

-Uchiha Itachi-

Itachi dragged his thumb through the blood and smeared it to a pattern on the dirt. Smoke overtook the scent of blood, and he saw soft light gently reflect on scaled black claws. Itachi did not know if he could trust his partner to help him, but the alternative was death.

"Bring me Kisame."

The four-spiked eye of a martyr blinked animally, and the toothy choanal slit inside its beak separated the fading light as his messenger cawed its obedience. Air and dust from the downstroke puffed against his face, and Itachi was terrifyingly, relievingly, alone.

Itachi focused on breathing. In and out, like the waves on the sand of the mangrove shore. He wanted to cough, but some still-reptile part of his brain advised him that was unwise. The vibrant world of the sharingan had faded in the sad colors and weak detail of an ordinary human eye, and then to something less than that. Itachi did not know if he closed his eyes, he did not know how blind he was, some things he saw from multiple angles at once... He drew gentle swirls with his fingers in the mud. Tiny Vs like rising crows, no, they were gills, three tight chevrons next to esurient silver eyes. Why was there mud beneath him? The summer was hot and dry.

He could see a dead weasel on the ground next to him. A convocation of crows gathered in an impatient funeral. With plunging swordlike beaks they tore out the weasel's tongue. They raised its tiny black eyes, tender as berries, and the nerves slithered down their throats. A crow hopped over the corpse's ribs, it had three legs. They tore open Itachi's chest and bore into his heart and all was hot and red, and then, nothing.

He heard a hiss. Samehada, no, heal him damn you!

He felt wind on his face, and his head swung dizzily, though he didn't remember telling his legs to move. The being who smelled of ocean's salt took him somewhere; its humid scent was unfamiliar to him.

Two strange tall birds looked at him. One was orange with violet eyes and the other was violet with orange eyes.

"He needs a healer," the breath of salt sailed to the violet bird.

"I'm a sensory ninja. Not a medic. But there's a doctor in a village nearby."

The world shifted as the ocean bowed. "I'm sorry for assuming."

Shivering steel chilled Itachi's wet skin. A bee stung him on the arm. Someone gave him a glass of orange juice with a straw. It was sweet, tangy and delicious, bright as an orange blossom on a mud puddle. His attention drew to this glass of juice, and his surroundings sharpened. He became aware of a stranger in a white coat in the background.

"The IV will ease the desanguination. However, proceeding further has drawbacks..."

"Like what?" the ocean voice said.

Itachi was out of orange juice. He tried to get the doctor's attention, but he was busy. A blue hand gave him another juice. What a kind hand.

"Chakra-healing him will cause permanent scar tissue damage in his chest cavity. If we go through with this, he could have endurance problems for the rest of his life."

"And if you do nothing?"

"The internal bleeding will rot his organs, and in two days, sepsis will kill him."

"Please do all you can."

The doctor placed his cold hands on Itachi's bare chest. He felt he should have shivered, or flinched, but his body would no longer respond to its nervous impulses. A pulsing like ripples on a puddle spread across his body. It warmed his limbs like alcohol but dispelled the delirium like icewater.

Itachi coughed the blood clot that previously must have held his lungs together. The doctor grimaced.

"Excuse me," Itachi apologized through bloody teeth, looking up at an unfamiliar doctor from the red soaked towel.

The doctor's eyes traced to the medical-waste bin adjacent the chair, and Itachi deposited the towel there.

"How do you feel?" the doctor asked.

Itachi did not feel like answering. He looked instead at the two other menacing individuals in the room with him.

"You are, as usual, praised for your discretion," Konan, the violet crane, told the doctor in what was both thanks and a threat. She drew a black velvet pouch from her robe and paid him in gold coins. It seemed Konan at least was unconstrained by Kakuzu's budget. The pleased doctor accepted the gold without concern.

Itachi examined the treatment room. The equipment was modern, but it was on the ground floor of an ordinary building, with mud walls, and a glassless sunny window. Konan and Kisame stood backlit. He had thought he'd seen Pain, but their leader had not accompanied them to the doctor if he had been there at all. Itachi was not sure what he had imagined of the last hours and what was real. In as subtle a way as he could, he pressed his fingertips over his own eyelids, his tongue against his palette, to make sure they were real. That no crows had picked them out.

He looked at Kisame, his silver eyes were like cautious mirrors. In front of this doctor and Konan, Kisame's expression maintained a perfect mask of normality. Itachi was tempted to probe his thoughts, cast aside the flimsy tin shields guarding the man's mind and dive beneath. He could do it, but he didn't.

The three Akatsuki exited the building. Konan, tall for a woman at his height, walked on his right side with Kisame on his left. Her amber eyes slid to Itachi with aloof concern. "Who did this?"

"Anbu got a hit in while we slept. We took care of them," Kisame answered for him.

"It happens. Have someone professional clean your robes," she advised. She gave them each a gold coin. Little did she know they were already loaded with stolen cash. But they took the gold anyway.

She flared her angular paper wings, and Konan left the fire and water pair to their devices.

"Do we stink?" Itachi asked, turning the gold coin.

"Yes. Well, you do. I can't smell me."

The chakra healing left Itachi feeling disquietingly whole, minus a tightness in his chest. It had been since his Leaf Village days that he received effective treatment. The closest the Akatsuki pack of killers had to a field medic was Kakuzu, and well… fortunately Itachi had never needed his reattachment specialty. Or Sasori, who after a battle might aloofly recommend a certain plant. 'A purple mountain bloom with heart shaped leaves, but chew only its roots, for the pistil metabolizes a stealthy toxin when combined with hydrochloric acid…'

A stealthy toxin.

Kisame gave him a wary, perhaps expectant, side eye as the two men walked silently abreast.

"A question for you, Kisame."

"Yes?"

"You do understand, entrapping me would not be wise for your health," Itachi warned, eyes straight forward.

"You think I set you up."

"I entertain the possibility. You repeatedly asked me about the Infinite Tsukuyomi, interrogated me on the whisper of disagreement, and Zetsu reported it to Madara."

A daring smile. Kisame halted on the path. "Why don't you just look in my head and find out?"

Itachi used no genjutsu on Kisame. When he didn't, Kisame spoke.

"When you disappeared from that orchard, I imagined you and our leader had some Uchiha secrets to discuss. Or you pissed him off. That raven of yours found me, and with one look at your sorry carcass, I knew that you definitely pissed him off.

"But, if Madara wanted you dead, I would not have been able to help you."

Kisame's statement did not exactly exonerate him of double play. Obviously Madara had still had a use for Itachi in letting him live, and therefore Kisame would be instructed to treat him. But it did explain Kisame's train of thought. He believed Kisame was innocent of conducting any purposeful snare against him, for now. Perhaps in asking his questions, the wandering Kisame had just been curious on his worldview. And Itachi realized, he wanted to investigate his partner's principles as well.

"What happened after Madara took you?" Kisame asked.

"Madara used his ability to teleport me somewhere, through some other dimension. We exchanged words, then blows. When he let me live, I vowed my hatred."

"Hopefully he'll credit your rudeness to you being delirious from pain," Kisame continued. "Otherwise, you've got a problem on your hands."

Somehow Kisame's chastation relieved him.

"I know," Itachi agreed. "You need not worry about me. I'll hunt this beast of his — I would prefer not to die."

A short, sure laugh from Kisame.

Itachi's contract with Madara stood: the Leaf would be safe from him as long as he fell in the Akatsuki line. And Itachi would do whatever it took to serve the Will of Fire. Itachi was, for better or for worse, a master of small evils.

"In my hallucinations, I saw the three-legged crow, Yatagarasu. In the myth of my country, he heralds the emergence of gods," Itachi said.

"You've got some weird religion in the Leaf," Kisame dismissed.

"What is the folk religion in the Mist?" Itachi asked.

"Our elders say the world was born on the back of a giant turtle. And when that turtle dies, the world will sink back into the sea."

"So you learn how to swim," Itachi noted.

"I'm not saying I believe in giant turtle gods."

"What does Hoshigaki Kisame believe in then?"

A grunt, apparently.

Kisame was a being on the hunt, the hunt for some sort of belief system. He sought belonging in serving something greater than himself. So he attached himself to Akatsuki and the Infinite Tsukuyomi. Without it Kisame had no purpose and no self.

No, that last part was false.

"Thank you for helping me," Itachi said. "I apologize for accusing you of betraying me."

Kisame looked away from him and said, "Not a problem."

Itachi viewed the sky with his Sharingan. He searched for the ultraviolet aurora of the earth's magnetic field. Perhaps in a peaceful century, the Uchiha clan would reveal to scientists that this was the mystery of how birds migrated: they could see these magnetic, purplish, static in the sky that indicated latitude and north. But Itachi's ancestors taught him early to never reveal exactly how the Sharingan worked to outsiders. The magnetic field hazed in a weak aurora far to the northern horizon, indicating that they were further south than previously.

"Where exactly are we?" Itachi asked.

"Can you smell it? Land of Tea," Kisame answered.

An idea germinated in Itachi. It would be on the way. He thought of banished Susanoo, who wandering earth after his crimes, found his greatest weapon, his Totsuka Blade, in the belly of a giant serpent he had slain.

"I would like to speak with someone here."

"Never took you for one good at making friends."

"I'm not."

"Anything I should know about them?"

"If he licks you… bite him."

Kisame, expression amused, gestured for Itachi to lead the way.

In a few hours, the two dangerous men had arrived in an equally dangerous place.

With his Sharingan, Itachi noticed a small camouflaged snake emerge from a crack, flick its tongue, and recede. He was unsure if his target would answer his summons but it was worth trying. No, he would be answered. This man's greatest sin was curiosity. He would not be able to resist wondering why Uchiha Itachi was on his doorstep, even if it killed him.

The stonework hidden under the jungle vines began to tremble. Itachi had not seen this individual since their last clash in the Akatsuki. Itachi had paralyzed him with a glance and struck his body full of rods. He had not even needed the Tsukuyomi.

A slender white-skinned demon stepped from the revealed earthen cave. His venom-smooth androgynous voice coursed unruffled to the two ninja.

"The young crow approaches the snake at its den. Not how I expected your revenge, Itachi."

"If I wanted you dead, I would have done it already," Itachi commanded.

Orochimaru, somewhat more diplomatic than Itachi, narrowed his eyes. An uneasy wind blew between the two Leaf Rogues as Orochimaru waited for more information. Itachi was too merciless to speak twice.

"Orochimaru of the Sanin," Kisame broke the silence, stretching his lips over his teeth and maintaining eye contact in something between a greeting and a threat. "Good to meet you at last."

"And who are you?" the Sanin returned.

"Hoshigaki Kisame, formerly of the Hidden Mist. A pleasure."

"Mhm," Orochimaru hummed smug as a song, and his vertical pupils traced back to his main interest. The question was an insult: the most knowledgeable being in the five nations surely already knew who Hoshigaki Kisame was.

"I require information," Itachi said. He had reserved fatal judgement on Orochimaru at their last encounter in hopes that this Sanin's talents could be subverted. And one way or another, Itachi would collect his debts.

"Concerning?"

"Forbidden jutsu."

A sly, approving, perhaps flirtatious noise. "You know who to ask."

Orochimaru headed into his dark den, exposing his back in a gesture Itachi found coquette and arrogant. Orochimaru turned his head for Itachi to follow, and paced forward into the darkness. Kisame made eye contact with Itachi, sensing the matter was far more personal than it seemed. Perhaps Kisame's pause confirmed that he was welcome.

"Come," Itachi said. They needed to get away from where Zetsu could see them. And, he could use an ally's eyes in a house of the enemy. Itachi was not arrogant enough to think he was above being outsmarted by an Orochimaru with years to ruminate against him.

Like down the esophagus of a snake, the two rogues walked an earthen corridor after Orochimaru. Flaming sconces gleamed green on modern scientific equipment, and animal specimens lined the walls in glass jars. The jars contained mostly reptiles, but Kisame looked at a shark pup and a crow, and back at Itachi.

In the belly of his lair, Orochimaru halted before a green flaming hearth in a great stone hall. Library halls of tomes and scrolls stretched behind him. He faced Itachi with the flames at his back.

"How truly desperate you must be to come to me for wisdom, Itachi. However… my knowledge has a price."

Itachi did not come to trade.

"I've come to reap your debt. Your cooperation is wholly optional." Itachi's Sharingan spinned Mangekyou.

The fire at the hearth extinguished and it was completely, disorientingly black. Itachi and Kisame were blind. Itachi could not use his genjutsu without light. But he knew snakes could sense heat signatures as precisely as an eye could light. He felt Kisame tense next to him, and his arm reach for Samehada.

Stay calm, Itachi thought at Kisame. He would feel it in his body.

"There's no need for that," Orochimaru deescalated from the darkness. Apparently he had changed his mind on the payment.

"Good," Itachi maintained curtly. "We will continue this discussion in the light."

The green fire returned. Samehada slid back into its hilt. Itachi's eyes retracted to their normal red.

"So," Orochimaru said.

"Tell me all you know about the Second Hokage's instant transportation technique."

An amused purr. "Teleportation. My, my, who has got you on the run, Itachi?"

"We've got places to be," Kisame maintained. The Mist ninja was right.

Itachi cared little about being on time for their next mission in the Land of Rivers. But he had to conceal the exact target of his question from both Kisame and Orochimaru. Madara had no doubt used something related to the Second Hokage's technique for his dimension-hopping. And until Itachi had a way to bind Madara to this plane, Itachi knew he would lose their next fight.

"As much as I respect the Second, it was the young Fourth who was the true master of space-time techniques," Orochimaru said, stepping towards his library.

"I understand. The Flying Thunder-God technique gained the Yellow Flash a run-on-sight order from the enemy alliance, and created the illusion that he was in multiple places at once."

"You are not completely uneducated," Orochimaru pulled a scroll from the wall.

"I would also like to know how to disable it."

Orochimaru paused. "You mean, how an enemy could theoretically stop the Fourth from transporting himself."

"Yes."

"There is some research into this."

"By who?"

Orochimaru pulled a second scroll. "Minato himself. However, Minato's research went incomplete. It involved a sealing jutsu currently unreplicatable."

Orochimaru opened the scroll to Itachi. On it was written a simple character in a brownish ink.

"Human blood," Itachi noted. Aged.

"Minato's blood, specifically. Unfortunately, as you know, Namikaze Minato has been a corpse for thirteen years."

"There must be another way," Itachi said.

Orochimaru closed the scroll. "You could ask him."

"Make no jokes, or worse, threats, Orochimaru," Itachi warned.

Orochimaru dipped his sly head without submission. "I apologize."

Itachi examined Minato's blood scroll. "Are these two all you have on the transportation subject?"

"All that would be of succinct use to you."

Itachi turned the scroll in his hand. He would keep them both for study. Orochimaru was too wise to comment or object.

"We'll be taking our leave now." Itachi said.

"A moment."

Orochimaru presented Itachi with a snake's egg. It was rubbery and pill shaped, rather than hard and tear-drop shaped like a bird's.

"If you need to come here again, do be polite and use this."

Fair chance Itachi would awake to a snake hatchling poisoning him in his sleep, or find himself strapped on the demon's dissection table when activating it. But Itachi accepted the egg anyway. Same as the original Orochimaru, it could be researched, repurposed, or destroyed.

Itachi walked out of Orochimaru's lair, the two scrolls under his arm, purposefully slow and dominant. Then he and Kisame ran briefly in the daylight trees, not wanting to dwell in Orochimaru's territory, and slowed again to a walk when they thought themselves far enough from any possible backstabbing. Kisame extended the first of the two scrolls before him.

"'Mark the jutsu formula on the target...' how are we supposed to use this? We can't teleport ourselves to this country if we've never been there before."

"Indeed we cannot," Itachi said.

"Well!" Kisame closed the scroll with unusual enthusiasm. "Too bad your transportation idea didn't work. I suppose we'll have to travel to the Land of Rivers my way."

As he spoke, Kisame looked through the jungle trees at the emerging ocean.

Your way? Itachi battled a sinking premonition. "Does it involve giant sharks?"

"No."

Good.

"Just one question for you, Itachi."

"Yes?"

"Have you ever taken over a ship before?"

Author's note:

Aaand next up is chapter 8, the KisaIta zany sea adventure!

Many thanks to beta SilverLion for her help reviewing this chapter!

Thank you readers for being patient with this chapter. I had an especially difficult time navigating current world events and I had to leave my home. But it's important to weaponize your creativity when you're stuck in the unknown. Please share this story with your friends if you like it, and let me know what you think :D

Steadfast,

Kelto

[my-dating-academia]

Hey how about this scenario with Izuku, Momo, and Eijiro witnessing their s/o getting brutally beat down by a villain.

Oooof I tried to make these a little longer since I haven’t posted in a bit?

Izuku Midoriya:

Deku pulls out his phone and checks his recent notifications. He sees the usual ones like YouTube uploads, updates from the All Might Fanclub, current news, and some text messages from friends, but he doesn’t see any that are from you. He goes to messages and clicks on you and see it hasn’t even been read.

S/o! How’s your internship going today?

He sent that 10 minutes ago, usually you respond right away. You’ll be alright. You’re tough and smart! He shouldn’t think negatively like that…But his gut and chest twists in an unsettling way.

He shakes his head and goes to the the news notification and sees “CAUTION: HERO VS VILLAIN FIGHT IN YOUR AREA”. He gets a bad feeling as he taps onto it that immediately takes him the alert. He skims through the first few lines before he can feel his stomach slowly drop. The location of the fight is where the hero agency you work at is located. He skims quicker through.

“…The fight is currently ongoing as a few Heroes-In-Training are on the scene, waiting for backup….The link above will guide you to live footage of the fight…”

His hands flew to the link and as it buffered and glitched for a few seconds and his eyes searched all over the screen to find any seen of you. The camera zoomed in and he saw a pile of crumble, but then he saw it shudder and break apart as a body sprout out of it.

It was you.

Your body was shaking under your mere weight. It was already a shocker to see yourself even get out of it. Your hands balled up tightly as you ran to the villain, starting up your quirk.

His heart pounded rapidly as his hands shook watching. His feet subconsciously moving to the direction of the fight, although not in seeing range.

Yet, you had already received such a heavy blow, so it was expected to see your damage body get lift up by the neck. Your voice wasn’t audible, but he could hear the struggle for breath and tiny dots of blood on the villain’s hand after you coughed. Your already limp body tried to regain sense of yourself as your quirk flickered on and off. Before you could, the villain smashed you into the ground and held you there.

Deku felt himself loose his breathe as he already started to run towards your location as he held the phone tightly in one hand.

Your teary eyes looked upon where cameramen took footage of it. You looked directly in the lens and your eyes seemed to scream “Help me.”

Deku saw your eyes as he ran and his mind screamed “S-SO!” And for the first time, he didn’t cry. Crying wouldn’t help right now, right now, he had to get to you.

Momo Yaoyorozu:

This was bad, this was so bad…

Everything was getting out of hand quickly. There weren’t enough heroes in action to accommodate the huge villain causing destruction.

And to top it off, Momo lost you in the midst of the battle. She quickly created cannons in a line to keep off the villain from the civilians and kept firing them off. Her head down and focused on only trying to create defenses before she heard a ringing sensation in her ears. The ground seemed to tremble under her, or perhaps was it the piercing sensation in her ears causing her brain to scream?

She lifted her head and saw you speeding off towards her using your speed quirk. A quick zig-zag motion in order to confuse the huge villain. She felt the ground shake underneath her again and found herself at the feet of the beast villain. The villain picked her up and squeezed her. Interested in getting her to stop firing the pesky balls at her. She felt the compressing pressure around her and she struggled to create knives around herself and to her luck, it let her go to focus on its bleeding hand.

You jumped up and caught her in your arms before landing down with her.

You cheekily smirked, “Does your hero get a kiss?” You grimaced quickly, the tiredness in your veins draining you. She looked at you gracefully before placing a quick kiss on your cheek, relief swirling her as she saw you.

The villain ran to where you were with Momo, hell-bent on getting revenge.

“Promise me you won’t kick me out of the bed for what I’m about to do,” You used the remaining amount of energy to throw her away from the villain’s reach.

The villain grabbed you quickly and smashed you against a nearby building.

It let you lay among the hole of debris it caved you in. Your back against lying amount of glass, bricks, blood, and God knows what else.

Momo let out a piercing scream, a scream that could challenge the monsters before tears clouded her vision. “H/N!”

She tried to stand up but quickly fell down.

No, no she had to save you! She can’t let you go like this, no, no…

A another hero on the scene helped prop her up to stand, but led her to the direction to an ambulance instead of where you lay.

“No, no, let me go this instant! H/n is there still!” She struggled to pry herself away from. She started to sob. “Please…I feel so useless here…Having to face my beloved close to death…”

The hero shook their head, “I’m sorry but you can’t.”

Eijirou Kirishima:

Kirishima let out a loud scream of fury as he tried to desperately claw himself out of it. He hardened his skin every time and tried to cut the cage open. He was cutting his own skin desperate to come and save you from their hands…

Another wild scream released itself from your mouth as another devastating blow hit your head, making you dizzy. Your throat was dry from screaming and cracked everytime you let out another one. What hurt you most, though, was having to see Kirishima’s pained eyes desperate to reach out to you, tears barely apparent as his skin was hardened.

Your body felt so hurt as another blow came to you, except this time it was your stomach.

You heard more frantic clawing against metal from Kirishima’s cage.

You forgot how long you had been here…Will they even come to save you?

You didn’t mean to, you knew it would only worsen the situation, but you couldn’t help it as tears rolled down your face, chest heaving in pain.

Kirishima couldn’t stand it anymore, either this would save the two of you, or left you two in more suffering, and honestly, he couldn’t bare to see you in it anymore.

He gathered up his strength and energy and hardened his skin to the best he could, the spikes and edges apparent as a terrifying frown rested on those who hurt you. He banged himself against the steel cage and budged himself through. He picked up the cage he was previously in and threw it at two of the guys before ramming himself against the one hurting you.

He dropped onto his knees next to you, his skin converting back to normal. He picked you up gingerly. You gave him a smile.

“Thank y-you…” He then started to ran as fast as he can to find the exit of the place.  

[carrowe]

AMYCUS CARROW is A DEATH EATER in the war, even though HIS official job is as A CURSE BREAKER & HIT MAN the TWENTY SIX year old PUREBLOOD is known to be PATIENT and RESERVED but also VIOLENT and TWO FACED. some might label them as THE DEVIL IN DISGUISE. fc: ryan gosling 

ANTHEMS:

feel it still - portugal the man // devil like me - rainbow kitten surprise // dead man’s arms - bishop briggs // fever pitch - rainbow kitten surprise // devil eyes - hippie sabotage // dark side - bishop briggs.

pinterest board (x)

BACKGROUND / FAMILY:

Amycus Abigor Carrow came crashing into the world screaming for his sister. Born the eldest to the Carrow dynasty, he was expected to eventually mount the role as the heir to the family legacy, but Amycus quickly proved himself to be Quite the Disappointment. 

As a young child, Amycus was soft spoken, easily intimidated and quiet ( main inspiration for baby Amycus: Radu from And I Darken tbh ). Mostly clung to the family’s staff, always crying, always craving closeness. For a while, he was just as angelic as he looked. 

Never saw much of his parents while growing up. His father was a successful businessman who only had kids because he was supposed to ( to carry on the blood line ), and wanted nothing to do with him. Instead, Amycus was left in the care of his grandfather.

His grandfather was FUCKED. An absolutely terrible man. A Death Eater before his time. An actual demon. Can’t say enough bad things about him, ya feel.

Either way, his grandfather was absolutely disgusted by Amycus, who could never fit into the mold that had been created for him. Thought his grandson was a poor excuse for a Carrow and thought he could change that through pain and violence. So, lessons were drilled in using corporal punishment, and the emotional and physical abuse he suffered eventually turned him into something colder and darker. What had once been soft, turned harsh, rough around the edges. A shell of a boy was left behind, not a trace of that sweetness left behind once they were done with him ( but were they ever? ).

Amycus basically became filled with resentment against everyone in his family, with the exception of Alecto. She has always been there, from the day they were born. She was the one to dry his tears, the one to hold his hand, the one to tell him where to hide. The one constant, his safe haven. They come as a matching set, and Amycus would kill ( and definitively has, too lbr ) for her.

Gained a definite rebellious streak pretty early on, which only became more aggressive as he got older. Once he reached his teenage years, he’d do ANYTHING and everything to fuck with his father & grandfather. Kinda stopped caring about the punishment, so used to pain that he stopped fearing it. Almost stopped feeling it.

Definitively grew up in his sister’s shadow, and was always the lesser Carrow.

When he turned fifteen, he moved out and never looked back. Decided to make his own future, and just never spoke to his family (Alecto is always the exception we all know this) again. Because fuck y’all, basically.

SO. His family’s plans had been for him to finish his education at Hogwarts, and then follow in his father’s foot steps and take over the company and the family name. Amycus had different plans though, obviously. 

His family were... so angry with him. But they definitively pretend ( because can’t have Amycus ruining their good reputation, am I right ) that they were the ones to encourage Amycus to find his own path in life and become a curse breaker.

Though, Amycus was never denounced as a Carrow ( because they didn’t wanna air their dirty laundry to the world, ya know ). Most pureblood families have noticed though that Amycus isn’t exactly... close with his family. I mean, at pureblood parties, he literally pretends that he can’t see them. 

AESTHETIC / VIBES:

old gramophones, blood stained mirrors, broken glasses, bleeding fists, standing in silence for hours, chipped teeth, unwavering loyalty, unhealed scars, getting home at the crack of dawn, red wine, eyes too blue to be trusted, long showers, god complexes, the color of dusk, messy hair, blood soaked suits, always cheating death, a rebel just for kicks, dried crimson on dull blades, half smiles, just beating and beating until the world stops, no conscience, half empty wine bottles, impersonal offices, a face that doesn’t quite match his demeanor.

HOGWARTS YEARS:

Was a hat stall between Hufflepuff and Slytherin. 

patience/loyalty/dedication vs self preservation/resourcefulness/dedication mostly.

At Hogwarts, Amycus felt in power for the first time. Ended up becoming the aggressor, finding solace in pain and violence. Found that he was good at inflicting pain, and liked being good at SOMETHING. Had never really felt that before. :/

Eventually got a taste for blood, and started getting into fights with other students, each run in more violent than the next.

STILL, did not end up in detention, because for a while, the teachers couldn’t believe that someone like Amycus ( who was mostly known for being very quiet and looking sweet ) would hurt another student. It would take for him to eventually get caught in the act, until that perception shattered.

Was that kid who used bugs and insects to practice unforgivable curses on. Eventually progressed to torturing students as well.

Excelled in charms, and can do wonders with a wand when he puts his mind to it. Most other grades were pretty shit though. 

AFTER HOGWARTS:

Once he graduated from Hogwarts, he was meant to take his place in the Carrow dynasty ( grandfather somehow STILL believing that he would come to his senses ), but fuck that. So he basically left the country as fast as possible, and became a cursebreaker.

Which just made sense, because he has always been good at inflicting curses, and breaking them isn’t that different. He is very good at what he does.

First few years were spent working in ancient tombs abroad, mostly. That kind of work fit him really well, because he could wear whatever he wanted, didn’t have to talk to people too much, could do his own thing. Was also always someone around to beat up.

After a while, he started missing his sister, and returned home, where he found work at the ministry of magic. Today, he works for the removal of curses, jinxes and hexes office, which is a subdivision for the improper use of magic office. 

Really likes his job? BUT. Also has a #second job.

On the side, he’s sort of a gun ( wand ) for hire, and will kill anyone who needs to be killed, for a price. Gives zero shit about the money though ( but the client needs to be rich, ya feel ).

Most of his clients are members of the sacred 28, who somehow always seem to want SOMEONE dead.

Honestly, I haven’t 100% figured out how he conducts this business because obviously he wants to remain anonymous. He probably has some sort of dramatic way of getting people to give him names that need to die idk. #to be determined

Joined the Death Eaters mostly because of his sister? But their agenda also really fits him, because violence? Bigotry? Death? Sign him tf up.

He isn’t the most invested in the whole pureblood supremacy thing ( but would he ever admit that? that’s a no ), but overall likes Voldemort and what he stands for.

Though he’s also lowkey intimidated by / afraid of Voldemort and is quite pleased with the fact that he doesn’t have to report directly to him.

For the Death Eaters, Amycus mostly works as an information gatherer, which is basically just a euphemism for him being one of their main torturers, who will torture people until they tell him whatever it is the Death Eaters want to know. He usually works together with his sister and they are disturbingly good at what they do.

AS A PERSON:

Cares very little for most people and is so so so selfish.

Lacks most of the finesse of his sister, tbh.

100% neutral evil. Kind of has a moral compass, it just points in the wrong direction at all times? Mostly just does whatever is best for him and Alecto though, and has zero interest in any righteous bullshit.

Does he think that he’s doing the right thing? Nope. He’s well aware that he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing. A bad dude.  Does he care? Also no.

Might just be the most private person you’ll ever meet? He seldom reveals anything about himself, and when he does, it’s usually not true.

Will also lie about the dumbest and smallest of details.

SO self disciplined. Always in complete control, and it’s very hard to get a genuine reaction / rise out of him. Also so so so patient, and is happy to wait for whatever his current end game is.

Drinks and smokes heavily, but doesn’t personally think that he has a problem.

Mostly just a dumb asshole.

SO COLD.

Thrives off violence and is a total brute tbh.

Never fucking does what anyone tells him to do. 

Someone: pls do this Amycus: *does the exact opposite*

Bisexual !

Pretty good at hiding his death eater ties since he’s… paranoid as FUCK. And also keeps to himself. Always wears a mask. But some people probably suspect… stuff anyways, if they’ve like. Spent longer than two hours with him. Listen if Amycus wasn’t such a fucking asshole he probably could get away with it (/scooby doo villain voice). But then again, others will probably think he’s just cold af.

Looks a lot nicer than he is, which works to his advantage most of the time? Like he just looks like a nerdy, good dude. Is a total demon, but looks like an angel. 

STYLE / FASHION / APPEARANCE :

Wears glasses (x), but somehow manages to fucking break them ALL THE TIME. The only thing keeping them together is magic.

Wears mostly wizard suits for work ( bc he has to :/ ), but will wear those long black robes in his free time. Think a vampire cape, flying in the wind. Ultimate drama. He really is THAT guy.

Will also wear stupid wizard band t-shirts a lot when working.

Keeps his hair short.

Like 70% of his wealth is probably spent on buying new clothes, because he keeps fucking ruining them by getting blood on them? Or just having them ripped to shreds in a fight, that works too.

Looks like he’s wearing the same exact shoes every day but actually has like... 200 different pairs. They all look the same.

Eyes appear either blue or grey, depending on the lighting.

Has some tattoos, and a half sleeve on his right arm, going from his shoulder to his elbow.

CHARACTER INFLUENCES :

caleb haas ( quantico )- the snark. the assholery. the background. the black sheep.

clay haas ( quantico ) - just the right amount of polished. the style. the general aesthetic. the hair.

angelus ( btvs ) - the disregard for human life. the darkness. the occasional brooding. the quips. 

holden ford ( mindhunter ) - the scheming. the hidden ambition. the slyness. the resolution.

lucifer morningstar ( lucifer ) - the smile, the general vibe, the quips, the mannerisms, the darkness.

eric northman ( southern vampire mysteries ) - the confidence. the general dumbness. the stubbornness.

demon dean winchester ( supernatural ) - the occasional charm. the being an actual demon-ness. the blood lust. the bad jokes. the weakness for a pretty face.

wolverine ( x men ) - the violence. the moodiness. the hatred. the occasional gruff demeanor.

takeshi kovac ( altered carbon ) - the violence. the fucked up moral compass. the buried anger. the instinct to fight.

elian ( to kill a kingdom ) - the rebel prince. the angry heir. the sarcasm. the dialogue.

radu ( and i darken ) - amycus as a child. the softness. the sweet face. the loyalty to his sister.

hannibal lecter ( silence of the lambs ) - the calm. the politeness. seems so civilized, so nice. isn’t though.

FAVORITE CHARACTER TROPES :

DISSONANT SERENITY - someone smiling gently in the middle of death and carnage, seeming almost enlightened as they slit throats left and right.

THE BERSERKER - throws himself into battle with such reckless abandon, that it seems like he wants to die. never, ever retreats.

FACE OF AN ANGEL, MIND OF A DEMON - looks nice, is a demon.

DEVIL IN PLAIN SIGHT - obviously up to no good, but few people seem to take notice.

EVEN EVIL HAS LOVED ONES - loves his sister.

BLACK SHEEP - the family screw up, someone who rejects their role in the family.

DARK AND TROUBLED PAST™ - something terrible happened in the past. tragic backstory. yada yada.

EVEN EVIL HAS STANDARDS - or at least his own moral compass.

MAN OF WEALTH AND TASTE - turns out evil has quite a lot of money and excellent fashion taste. most of the time.

PRAGMATIC VILLAINY - only does evil things when it serves him or his purposes tbh.

VIOLENCE IS THE ONLY OPTION - must fight.

OPPORTUNISTIC BASTARD - doesn’t really have a plan, totally winging it.

[draftingtides]

Family

SPN Rare Ship CC Round 11: Bad-Dragon | otrera-kicks-ass vs. (Correct me if I’m wrong, but on the sheet it said I had no partner?) Prompt: Sleipnir the Horse God Ship: Sabriel (Sam/Gabriel) Word Count: 1925 Notes: I don’t know how to link to the visual part of the prompt, sorry! I decided to keep it SFW. I wasn’t very happy with this, honestly, and Sleipnir really only shows up near the end, but I tried. :/ Thanks for allowing me an extension.

Sam poked his head into his and Gabriel’s bedroom. “Hey, Dean and I are about to start Game of Thrones, wanna join?”

“Nah, can’t,” said Gabriel. “I’ve got a family reunion I have to go to in a few minutes. It only happens every twenty years or so, so I really can’t miss it.”

Sam’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Family reunion? With the angels?”

Gabriel laughed out loud. “No, with the pagans. My kids.”

“You have kids?” Sam blurted out. “I mean, I know in the myths, Loki has kids, but I didn’t -” He blushed. “Um, sorry. That was kinda rude.”

“You’re fine, Samshine. And most of them aren’t biologically mine. Have I ever told you about my vessel?”

“What?”

“Have I?”

“Uh, no?”

“Okay, well, basically, since I couldn’t use my true vessel lest Heaven find out I’m not actually dead, I borrowed a god to be my vessel - Loki. So, since I’ve kind of - hmm, absorbed him, his kids are mine. Technicalities. Except for Narfi and Nari, who are biologically mine.”

Sam went in and sat on their bed. “I thought it was forbidden for angels to have children?”

“Nephilim were banned,” said Gabriel. “The offspring of an angel and a human. No one ever said anything about a woohoo between an angel and a god resulting in a kid - or kids. What can I say, I’m pretty fertile.” He waggled his eyebrows and winked flirtatiously.

Sam snorted and shoved at his knee. “Shut up.”

Gabriel giggled and shoved back. They leaned on each other for a moment, drinking in each other’s warmth.

“Hey,” said Gabriel, suddenly solemn-faced, “I know you generally don’t get on too well with gods, but, uh, I’d really love it if you came with me.”

Sam blinked. “But…. I thought it was a family reunion.”

“It is. But you’re my partner, Sam, and I really want my kids to meet you.”

“I dunno…”

Gabriel made wide eyes and pouted his lips. “Please? You’re a big part of my life, and so are they, so it would mean a lot to me if you came.”

Sam exhaled and ran his fingers through his hair. On the one hand, he really did want to meet Gabriel’s children, but on the other, gods weren’t known for getting along well with humans - especially hunters.

“I won’t let them hurt you, Sammy,” said Gabriel, like he’d read Sam’s mind. He probably had.

“Yeah, okay,” he said finally. “Just let me go change -”

“No need, Sammy-boy,” said Gabriel. “You already look great.” He grinned at Sam’s blush, then snapped his fingers.

Suddenly, they were in a completely empty room, where both the walls and the carpet were a rather boring shade of beige.

“Where are we?” asked Sam, looking around.

“I took us out of time for a little bit, so I could give you a quick rundown on what to expect,” said Gabriel.

“First of all, I should warn you that Sleipnir, Jormungandr, and Fenrir all have animal forms. Sleipnir and Fenrir usually prefer to look human, though, because their animal forms remind them of captivity. So if you see an enormous snake, a huge wolf, or an eight-legged horse, don’t panic. And on the topic of anatomical oddities, Hela is a corpse.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, she has a tendency to look like a rotting dead person when the light hits her just right. But she’s the queen of the Norse underworld, so you’d expect her to look a little undead.

“Second of all, my kids aren’t like the pagans you met at Elysian Fields. They aren’t gonna have human beings locked up in their freezer or anything, and they won’t try to use your blood for any spells.”

Sam snorted. “Good to know,” he said.

Gabriel smiled and took Sam’s hand in his. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Gabriel snapped his fingers, and their surroundings changed again. They appeared to be outside an extremely rundown bar. The sign on the door declared the shop closed, but Gabriel ignored it and walked right in. Sam followed.

The inside was much nicer than the outside. The walls were smooth and clean, with no signs of cracks or decay. The bar itself gleamed. The floor was spotless.

Over by the bar stood four men and a woman, all of whom turned to look at Sam and Gabriel when they walked in.

“Father,” the woman greeted Gabriel with a nod. “You’ve brought a human with you.”

Gabriel grinned broadly. “Sure did, Hel-Belle. Guys, this is my boyfriend, Sam Winchester. Sam, these are my kids.”

Two of the men perked up. They were identical in stature and visage, but Sam noticed the man on the right had a prosthetic leg.

“Sam Winchester?” the one on the left asked. “The same Sam Winchester you were pining over for years? The Sam Winchester you almost died for, Sam Winchester?”

“You’re right, Dad,” said the one with the prosthetic, looking up and down Sam’s body appreciatively. “He does look like Dr. Sexy.”

Sam blushed dark pink and shuffled his feet awkwardly.

Gabriel pointed an accusatory finger at the man on the right. “Quit flirting with my boyfriend, Nari!”

Nari winked. “Sure thing, Dad.”

“Ignore him, he flirts with anything that moves,” said the woman dismissively. She rose from her seat at the bar and glided elegantly over to Sam and Gabriel. She hugged Gabriel, then held out her hand to Sam. He couldn’t help but flinch a little when he shook it, because it was ice cold and dry as paper.

“My name is Hela. It is a pleasure to meet you, Samuel,” she said. “I am glad my father has finally introduced us to his lover.” She returned to her seat. Sam and Gabriel followed her to the bar.

“I’m Nari,” said Nari with a flirtatious wave of his fingers, “but you already knew that.”

His twin (because they were obviously twins) shook Sam’s hand next. “My name’s Narfi,” he said. “I use ve/ver/vis pronouns, by the way.”

“Oh,” said Sam, only mildly surprised. After all, ve was a god, and most gods didn’t have didn’t have truly physical bodies, so their gender was bound to be less strictly binary than most humans’. “Okay.”

A grizzled man with yellow-grey eyes and craggy teeth leaned around Narfi to shake Sam’s hand so firmly that Sam thought his arm might fall off.

“I am Fenris wolf,” he said in a raspy voice. “But please, call me Fenrir.”

The man on the far left didn’t bother to move from his seat, and instead gave Sam a short wave. “I’m Sleipnir,” he said quietly. Sam noticed that he had six fingers on each hand - probably bleed-over from his extra limbs from his horse form.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” said Sam.

“Hang on,” said Gabriel. “Where’s Jormungandr?”

“Fashionably late, as always,” said Nari, rolling his eyes. “Wanna play darts while we wait for him?”

Fenrir bared his teeth in a terrifying grin. “You bet your ass I do. How many times do you think you’re gonna lose?”

“Fewer than you, old man,” snarked Nari. Fenrir growled in challenge, and the two of them left to go play darts in the corner.

“I’ll go make sure they don’t kill each other,” said Hela. For a moment as she stood up, her flesh was green and rotting, and her eyes were empty black sockets in her head. Then she moved out of the ray of light streaming through the window, and she looked like a normal, pale human again. “I love them both dearly, but I don’t think I could handle either of them being trapped in my realm for all eternity.”

“I don’t think anyone could deal with them for all eternity,” said Gabriel with a grin. “Not even me.”

Hela grinned back and left the bar, drink in hand. Now it was only Sam, Gabriel, Narfi, and Sleipnir.

“So,” said Narfi, swinging vis gaze around to rest on Sam. “Sam Winchester, huh? Yours is a pretty big name in the supernatural world.”

“Thanks?” said Sam. His voice went up at the end, turning his statement into a question.

“Don’t thank me,” said Narfi. “It’s just a fact.” Ve snapped his fingers and several drinks poured themselves. Ve picked one up and sipped at it slowly.

Sam resisted the urge to rub the back of his neck. He was feeling a little like a scolded child. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

Sleipnir and Gabriel were talking quietly next to Sam and Narfi.

“Don’t worry, Dad,” Sleipnir murmured. “I’m sure Jormungandr will be here soon.”

But he wasn’t. Several hours of awkward conversation with Narfi, intellectual exchanges with Hela, discussion of ancient weapons with Fenrir, and recounting of prank wars with Nari passed, and Jormungandr never showed up. As Gabriel got steadily more drunk on ambrosia, he became continually more upset about that fact. Finally, he grumbled some incoherent excuse and stumbled into the bathroom. Sam pursed his lips and followed him.

“Gabriel?” he said. “Gabe?”

“What?” Gabriel demanded, spinning around drunkenly.

“I think you should maybe sober up a little,” he said.

Gabriel sighed heavily and threw his arms around Sam’s waist, sagging against his boyfriend. “Don’ wanna.”

“Please? I want to talk to you.”

With another sigh, Gabriel snapped his fingers but stayed slumped against Sam. “Happy now?”

“Not really.” Sam moved Gabriel off of himself enough so that he could sit on the floor and lean against the wall, then shifted Gabriel so he was sitting in Sam’s lap. “Talk to me.”

Gabriel buried his face in Sam’s neck. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Talk to me about Jormungandr.”

Gabriel stayed silent. Sam nudged his thigh.

“I don’t see my kids hardly ever, Sam,” he said finally. “We all promised that we would always have a reunion every other decade, and we all promised that all of us would come, no matter what. These things are really important, Sam, and all of us know that! So why didn’t he come?” He sniffed and wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

“Aw, Gabe….” Sam hugged him tightly. “I’m really sorry he didn’t come. But if these reunions are that important, then he must have a really good reason not to come. Maybe tomorrow we can try and find him, and ask him why he didn’t come? Just make sure he’s okay?”

Gabriel exhaled. His breath was warm against Sam’s neck. “Okay. We can do that. I can do that.”

They left the bathroom and joined the demigods at the bar, who were exchanging goodbyes.

“Hey,” said Sleipnir to Sam, “I just wanted to thank you. For helping Dad, I mean. I know he was really upset about Jormungandr not coming. And thanks for putting up with my siblings. I know Narfi’s kind of an asshole to humans, and Hela’s pretty intimidating, and Fenrir can be rather scary. So. Thanks. I’m glad Dad has someone like you to take care of him.”

“I - wow. Thanks.” Sam smiled at Sleipnir and shook his six-fingered hand. “You know, Gabriel told me he doesn’t get to see you guys a lot, and, uh, if it makes him happy, you’re always welcome at the Men of Letters bunker. It’s in Lebanon, Kansas.”

Sleipnir’s eyes widened. “Really? Uh, wow, thanks. But will I even be able to go in? I mean, it’s covered in protective sigils and enchantments.”

“We’ll figure something out. After all, family’s pretty important to us Winchesters.”

[kalimarsdreamlog]

Dream 137: I'm Not a Vampire, Really! Aka Double Spirits

This one gets a tad weird and rambly, but this is another one of my favorites, enough so that I’ve drawn soooooo much stuff for it. Only a few illustrations are here for the time being because a lot of them are crossovers, but all will be posted in time! Why are the others crossovers? Well, actually, I’m writing a story based on many of my favorite dreams, with this one happening to form the main structure. Anyway, moving on!

​Oh, and by the way, I had this dream BEFORE I got into Yu-Gi-Oh. Just putting that out there.

-

So I dreamt that I got killed by some tribe of people way long ago, but they put me on this altar that brought me back to life. I think it was punishment for offending them, though I don’t remember how. Granted it had come down to a fight, me vs four or five of them. They had these two-pronged spear-looking things and wore very little armor. I can infer that they did not fear death, between their little armor and the fact that they made me immortal as punishment for my alleged crimes. Anyway, I came back after bleeding out, but my spirit split into two different parts. (More under the cut)

(Excuse the gore. Couldn’t get this out of my head until I drew it. Somewhat ironically, this was done on the back of a forensics worksheet. I had already taken the blood unit in forensics so the spatters are all meticulously done to tell a story. Anyway, moving on.)

​Each half got different powers. Since we were already dead, we both basically got immortality. It was a middle-earth type world that we were in, just to explain why I got killed by a tribal people and why stone altars worked. (I was confused about why they just let me bleed out on the darn thing instead of just getting it over with) I was also very male because back then women weren’t allowed to go out adventuring or to war. Anyway, I was the more serious of the two halves of my spirit, and I came out of the ordeal looking younger than I had before, while the half who actually had a sense of humor (but not obnoxiously so) came out looking the same age as before I was killed. For some reason, he became a vegetarian. Also for some reason we both had to consume different things to keep up our powers and our health. My powers (other than flight) were all oil and plastic-based. It was weird. I sweated plastic and could control engines because I could control the oil, and I could melt and re-set plastic at will. I was also pretty good at fighting because of the time I came from. My other half though? I have no idea. He was really smart and for some reason I looked up to him, but I don’t remember what his powers were. We could normally read each other’s feelings if we weren’t too many miles away from each other because we were both originally the same person.

​My other half was better at faking our way into records in society. He was smarter academically and strategically. I was stronger, had more common sense, and relied on my instincts. He got the positive emotions, while I got the negative ones. It didn’t normally matter when we were together though, since we shared each other’s feelings, and between the two of us we had a full range of emotion. One thing that I had that he didn’t was the power of flight (because I can always fly in dreams) and a weakness to sunlight. We couldn’t figure out why.

​Years, decades, at least a century passed. We had gone through schools, orphanages, families, wars, streets, and lots of houses over time. I looked about sixteen, and he looked eighteen to twenty. Of course we aced our history classes when we took them. Some time in the middle I lost track of him. I couldn’t even feel his emotions anymore. I was alone. For someone as old as I was it wouldn’t have been so bad, but we had just been sparring in the street and even though I was more powerful he STILL beat me in one tough hit.

(Ignore the bad math grade on the other side please)

​He was the only one who could do that. My powers exhausted me quickly, so when we were faced with a semi barreling down the street all we could do was hang on to the underside until it stopped. Well, I was weak from exhaustion (and losing the fight) and couldn’t hang on, and I rolled to a stop on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. I yelled for him to let go until I passed out.

When I woke up it was dark and I couldn’t feel his presence. I had been on the side of the road in the sun for hours, and I feebly flew around in an effort to find my other half back. Without him I was only half a person. I eventually got lost and checked myself into an orphanage to have a place to stay for the night since I didn’t know the way “home.“ 

I was sent to school the next morning, where people thought I was a vampire because of my aversion to sunlight and the fact that I knew so much more about the last wars than I should have. On the bus afterwards I was eating some candy and someone pointed at me and said, “Hey! The vampire’s got blood in his mouth! He must have bitten someone!”

​“I don’t have blood in my mouth…” I put my hand up to my mouth to check and it came back covered in red. I THOUGHT it was the candy, but you know it was starting to taste an awful like blood… “What the shit?” Everyone took that to mean that I was indeed a vampire, and INSTANT SOCIAL OUTCAST. I guess my answer to this one girl’s question didn’t help either.

​“What does it taste like?” She asked.

​“Haven’t you ever tasted blood before?” Was my ever tactless response. Seriously though, most people know the taste of blood, right? Sucked on a finger with a paper-cut, accidentally bit your tongue, got hit in the face or some lethal wound that left you coughing up your life? No? Oh wait that was just me. Well then.

​I eventually left that orphanage (and school) before they could notice that I wasn’t aging. I wasn’t sure where to go next, so I was on the streets for a while. That was fine. I got by for another couple years. I found one of our old houses from when we could still blend in enough to have friends. It was old now, very old, having been from a time when places like the Shire were considered modern. (Some decades since then the world modernized a bit. The bus is a good example.) Anyway, I lived there for a little bit which was a fairly happy time. Someone bought the house though (I was basically squatting on the property) who happened to be a priest. Being a good Samaritan, she said she needed some company anyway and would be happy to share with me if she could be my surrogate parent. A bit of an odd request, but who was I to refuse? 

So one day I left the bathroom after a shower and sneezed. She politely said, “bless you,” and since she was a priest suddenly the water in my hair turned into holy water and GOD DANG IT FELT LIKE MY SCALP WAS ON FIRE and I was reduced to screaming profanities while trying to dry my hair as fast as possible without burning my hands too.

​“Thanks, ‘MOM!’” Augh! I really wasn’t a bloody vampire, why did holy water hurt me?! Dang stupid tribe.

​After drying my hair enough that it only felt like it was being sunburned I hurriedly pulled on some clothes and fled from the house. It was nice but now the head of the church thought (correctly?) that I was some unholy demon and I did NOT need an entire church after me. I started up the engine of the nearest car via petroleum-powers, hopped in and then turbo charged said engine using said powers to make my escape as fast as possible. Some miles away I was boxed in by four other vehicles and forced to stop in, surprise! The middle of nowhere again! Way more people than I expected poured out of the cars, all armed with fists, knives, and several classic anti-monster things. I could take the former. I was a decently skilled fighter back in the day after all, now with countless lifetimes of practice. But could I fight them all off without exhausting myself, in the sun, with no weapons and probably against things I didn’t even know could hurt me yet? I was filled with determination not my own, and threw the first punch.

​I heard another engine pull up and hoped it wasn’t another car of enemies to fight. But when the door opened I was hit with a wave of emotions I hadn’t felt in a long time. My other half!! He had…grown? I thought about it (still fighting of course) and realized that I had probably aged a bit in his absence as well. If we had aged while we were apart, albeit slowly, then being together must have stopped that somehow before. So we were stronger when we were together, huh? With him back, this fight was sure to be easy!

​Oh so he got stabbed at some point during the fight and it looked like liquid nitrogen poured out and froze his enemies. So I guess he had either air or ice powers? Actually I think it was air. That would explain how he was able to take me out with one hit so easily. He must have used air pressure to power the force behind his hit.

-

​This dream left me in a weird, quiet mood for a long time after having it. I got so used to waiting and watching the world go by in the dream without really interacting or getting involved with the world that I was pretty spacey once I woke up. To be fair, I had spent what felt like years as a different person. People kept asking me what was wrong. Oops?

-

If you’re curious, the other drawing was of me/him on the bus discovering that the candy looked like blood. 

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