the gray witch of my heart


here’s every anime I’ve watched that i can remember please recommend some

Fairy Tail 
Princess Jellyfish 
Yu Yu Hakusho 
Chaos; Head 
B Gata H Kei: Yamada’s First Time 
Ouran High School Host Club 
Sword Art Online
My Bride is a Mermaid 
Okami-San and Her Seven Companions
.hack//Quantum Ova 
Welcome to the NHK
Soul Eater 
Legend of the Legendary Heroes 
Black Butler 
Kenichi: The Mightiest Disciple
Kaze No Stigma 
Full Metal Alchemist 
Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood 
D-Gray Man 
Samurai Champloo 
Trigun Badlands 
Chrome Shelled Regios 
Dance in the Vampire Bund 
Ghost Hunt
High School of the Dead 
Angel Beats 
Spice and Wolf
Hetalia World Series
Kill la Kill
Hama Tora
Junjou Romantica ;-;
Blue Exorcist
Say “I Love You”
My Little Monster 
Demon King Daimo 
Pandora Hearts 
Strike Witches 
Squid Girl 
Heaven’s Lost Property 
Clannad: After Story 
Eden of the East 
Koi Koi Seven 
Fruits Basket 
Maoyuu Maou Yuusha 
To Heart 2 AD 
Elfin Lied


A Tale of Two Princesses


I watch as Aemon trains with Longclaw, Father’s great Valyrian steel sword in the courtyard of Red Keep. The King doesn’t carry a sword with him anymore for he sits on a throne built by his ancestor, forged out of swords. Lord Tyrion told me once that Father never wanted to be King. But the Seven Kingdoms needed a leader after the Great War. Mother was heavily pregnant with Aemon then while Daeron was barely walking, still clinging to her bosom. I try to imagine my mother as the fearless, conquering Queen but it is hard. She has always been gentle, kind and loving. She has always been my Mama. Missandei said that she is a Great woman, the Breaker of Chains, Mother of Dragons. She protects people from monsters just like Father.

“Having children softens her,” Lord Tyrion tells me.

It will never soften me,” I tell him most assuredly. He chuckles and shakes his head.

“Even my mad sister’s heart was softened by her children.”

The Mad Queen is now imprisoned in Dragonstone’s dungeon, in a deep pit near the sewers. I remember looking down at her through the steel grates during our twice a year stay in the castle. She would stare up at me, with her long stringy gray hair and dirty face, her cruel green eyes piercing right into my soul. Daeron nicknamed her the Witch of Dragonstone but Cersei Lannister has no supernatural powers of course. It used to frighten me when I was a child, having her stare at me as she screamed. I’d run straight into my mother’s arms but I never cry. Queens do not cry. Father would be all angry with my brothers for bringing me to the cell and they’d immediately apologize insisting that I was the one who begged them to bring me there. He would never be angry with me.


I love my siblings dearly. They are always very protective of me, because I’m the youngest. They think me frail and delicate. They don’t tell me things, things that I should know being a princess of the realm. I hear them discussing in soft whispers in the drawing room while I play my harp for Mother’s ears. Daeron, Aemon and Lyanna. It’s always about politics with them. It’s a game played in court, the rival Houses circling around us, wanting to move their chess pieces and take down ours. Mother and Father are but figurehead sovereigns now basking in the glow of their triumphant victory two decades ago. Symbols of power but they don’t rule the realm, my siblings do. It was Father’s idea for my brothers to decide on certain relevant matters of state. Practice he says, he doesn’t want them to wait till he’s dead before they start wielding the King’s power. So far Aemon managed to quell a small uprising in Dorne and Daeron demolished the derelict houses in Flea Bottom and build better ones. My sister and I are tasked with overseeing a new school for girls in the Capital.

I don’t speak much maybe because I’m afraid that I’d let out secrets I’m not supposed to let out. I’m afraid that I’ll tell Daeron about his good friend Mark. Mark has designs on Lyanna. They aren’t very honourable. He wants to bed her. I hate that I know this but his thoughts are sometimes too loud and I can even see the lewd things he wants to do to my sister. I don’t want to tell Aemon that the Master of Coin has been siphoning gold dragons into his pocket every month. It’s not much compared to the millions of gold coins in the treasury. But if Aemon knows, he’ll execute the man and strip the titles and lands off his family and it is not fair that his children should pay for their father’s crime. It is a hard thing knowing the secrets and private thoughts of others. Uncle Bran says it’ll take practice. Soon I’ll learn to block them off just like he did and he will teach me how.

And for a moment, I forgot everything, even why I was there. Because she was beautiful. No, I thought, in stunned amazement, she was beautiful, achingly, heartbreakingly, unbelievably so. Raven-dark hair, flowing like a river almost to the floor, eyes like a sea storm, blue and gray and glinting in anger, a face so perfect it hurt, like a force of nature carved in flesh. Blue robes that flowed about her like waves when she moved and grabbed one of the witches.

And slit her throat. (Karen Chance, Ride the Storm)

Bjork, Black Lake // My heart is enormous lake / Black with potion

Cocteau Twins, Serpentskirt // Some forget where to go / They know fear again

Jenny Hval, Blood Flight // And up we went, blood and I, spread over the city

Kate Bush, Waking the Witch // We are of the going water and the gone / We are of water in the Holy Land of water

Siouxsie and the Banshees, Spellbound // We are entranced / Spellbound

Paul Giovanni, Willow’s Song // Am I not young and fair?

Portishead, All Mine // Make no mistake / You shan’t escape / Tethered and tied / There’s nowhere to hide from me

Ride the Storm Appreciation Week - Day 2 - Villain Appreciation 

Nimue + Aesthetic + Playlist

Fact Tag

I was tagged my @mydarlingwhitethorn @tog-trash and @williamjem Thank you💕💕

Rules: say 5 facts about yourself and then tag 8 people

1. The color of my eyes have changed from being blue/gray/green when I was a kid (until I was around 12-13), to now being only green

2. I currently have a cold due to bad decisions regarding alcohol and a lake in the middle of the night

3. I hate spiders with all my heart, they’re the demons of this earth and should crawl back to whatever hell-hole they came from

4. I make the best pancakes in my family

5. I have a dog with the same name as the Weaver in ACOTAR (except for one letter - my dog’s name is Strega and it means ”witch” in Italian)

I’m tagging: @thereaderbabe @surrexeruntie @songbirdsbooks @lyannablackbeak @lovely-starfall @midnight-wonder @iamthebonecarver @highladyfxyre

Sorry if you’ve already done this😘

Never Again

A/N- BTW sorry for not writing, my internet has been fucking up and NOW IT’S WORKING! 

* * *


Your eyes slowly fluttered open, adjusting to the light beaming into your room. You yawned and slipped your cold hands under your warm and toasty blanket. You were slightly confused when you didn’t feel that strong arm around your waist, you looked over to the side where your boyfriend usually slept and it was made up and it lacked its usual warmth. You began to speculate horrible things but you kept telling yourself, everything was okay.

You got out of bed and grabbed your nearest robe while you walked into the sudden cold halls of your apartment. You checked every door, hoping he’d been hiding in there playing some cruel joke on you but you noticed, door by door his things we’re missing.

“SAM?” You called out into your echoing apartment, you were in the living room and you saw his hunting duffel bag was missing along with his running shoes. You walked into the kitchen and you saw something different on the fridge. As you walked closer to it, your heart dropped to the floor.

It was the letter and picture you gave him on your 1st anniversary. You picked up the picture and smoothened it in your palm.  You saw the love in his eyes as he stared at you while you smiled towards the camera, it was your favourite picture in the entire world. Your eyes trailed down to the letter and tears began to pool in your eyes.

Dearest Sasquatch,

    Kidding babe :*  Dearest Sam,

                                           I don’t know where to begin, I thought this was going to be easy but once you pick up the pen all ideas fly out that stupid window. But here, I’ll say this.

 Before you and Dean entered my gray life you were a fairy tale my mum use to tell me when I was 2, she told me about this prince riding into my castle on a noble steed and saving me from the wicked dragon or witch. Which you, Sam Winchester had done. You were my prince, Dean’s sick car was your noble steed and the wicked witch was life. After my parents died I thought I’d be damned eternally but you made sure that I wouldn’t be, so thank you Prince Samuel.

I love you with all my heart and this is the only time I’ll ever be cheesy. I know losing Dean was hard and living the apple pie life isn’t easy but I’m glad I’m with you.

P.S: By the time you finish reading this, I’ll be in the bathroom getting ready for your final gift ;) I love you, Sam Winchester.

By the time you finished reading the letter your tears became unstoppable. Your chest heaved up and down while you suddenly felt like you were going to faint. You grabbed onto the nearest chair for support and your stomach began to churn.  You dropped the letter and the picture suddenly feeling gross and sick.

You ran to the bathroom and as soon as your knees painfully hit the cold tiles you emptied all contents of your stomach into the toilet. Suddenly flashbacks of Sam holding your hair while you use to throw up flashed in your mind and you gag even further. You got up and wiped your mouth, you looked at yourself into the mirror and you felt cold. Not because you were in the middle of winter but cold as in losing your other half, forever.


“Mum I want owange juwce” Your attention snapped back to your bundle of joy. You saw your 3 year old son lift his arms up and you smiled, picking him up. You pinched his cheeks and you moved around as he jumped in your arms, giggling like theres no tomorrow. You walked over to the fridge as he began to tell you his dream.

“And then dinoswars flew in and daddy killed all the baddies… the you and daddy put me back to sweep” You tried so hard not to cry at your innocent child’s dream, he had no idea who his father was so he made him up and that killed you inside. You noticed he was a splitting image of Sam, he was 4 and his hair was already as long as Sams.

“When’s Daddy coming home, mummy?” You looked the other way as a tear slid down your face you wiped it away and smiled at your naive son.

“Mummy doesn’t know Bobby, now how about we get your orange juice” The mention of orange juice distracted his creative mind and you set him down while he ran to his toys. You sighed and opened the fridge, wondering how much longer you could take without calling Sam. When you found out you were pregnant you had the urge to call him and tell him wishing he’d come back instantly. But you didn’t want him to stay with you only because you were pregnant, you wanted him to come back willingly. You saw the orange juice container and noticed it was empty.

“Bobby, put your coat and shoes on sweetie, we’re going out.” You saw your son scramble away and you set the box into the bin.

“LETS GO MUMMY” you heard your son eagerly yell and you smiled, picking up your wallet and keys.

“Here’s your change, Y/N and heres your chocolate bar, Bobby” You smiled as you saw your son accept the chocolate bar.

“Thanks Andwy” Your son dug into the bar and you looked up at your friend thankfully.

“Thank you Andy, see you later?” He nodded and you took your sons hand walking out the convenience store. You saw Bobby devour the chocolate bar and he ran to the bin throwing the plastic wrapper away. You picked him up and he giggled when you kissed his cheek.

“Good boy, how about today we go the park? then we get some ice-cream? then mummy can make some spaghetti and we can watch some cartoons? How about that?” Bobby yelled a loud ‘YAYY’ and you giggled.

You noticed the happiness on your sons face, the pure euphoria. You wondered how you’d be able to protect a child as beautiful as him from all the evil existing in the world.A shiver ran up your spine as you heard a growl you thought you’d never hear again, you stopped dead in your tracks and you saw a 1967 chevrolet impala drive past you. Your grip on your son became protective and you saw the car slow down and to a complete stop. All emotion had fallen from your face and your son touched your cheek bringing you back to reality.

“Mumma, you okay?” You looked to your child with wide eyes and tears before looking back at the car.


“Sammy, why’d we stop?” Sam had been staring at your shocked posture and he knew you figured out it was him. You were smart enough to, he knew you figured out it was them just by the sound of the Impala.

“Y/N” Sam whispered your name painfully and Dean looked through the rearview mirror, he saw your ghost stricken posture as you held a child. He didn’t notice it was you until he saw your face, he inhaled deeply and shook his head, not believing you had been here, by yourself the entire time. Ever since he got back from Purgatory, Sam said you were out of the game forever and that they couldn’t come find you. He missed you more than anything, these four years without you was dull, boring and horrible, without you they weren’t living, they were simply surviving.

“Sam? Sammy! HEY! Is that Y/N with a fucking child?” Sam looked at his brother with tears pricking his eyes, he wiped them away and looked back to you. The pain Sam felt after leaving you was worse when Jess died or when Madison died. The last thoughts they had of Sam were happy and yours was simple abandonment.

You began to move slowly towards the car and you placed the child on the ground, next to you. He looked at the kid and his heart began to beat faster, he noticed the child had Sam’s eyes and hair, could that be his? You began to pick up your pace and suddenly you were so close the car you missed dearly you could feel the heat emitting from the beast. The passenger door creaked and it slowly opened.

“Mum, what are we doing?” Sam slowly exited the car and the tears fell freely from your face, you saw him and suddenly you were breathless. You didn’t know what to do, or what to say. You pinched your thigh, reassuring the pain is real even though your heart and soul felt like giving up. Sam stood still, not knowing what to do. He observed your body, how your hair had become shorter and your skin had become paler. Your eyes had dark circles under them and you lost a ton of weight. Were you eating? Why did you look so tired? Thousands of questions flew through Sam’s mind though he couldn’t think of one thing to say to you.

You saw the pain evident on his face and his hair became longer. You felt your child tug on your hand and you bent down to meet his eyes. You set down the plastic bags next to him and you spoke.

“Baby, mummy has to talk to this man. Please be quiet okay? “ You saw your child nod and you kissed his hair. He wiped your tears away and you smiled.

“Good boy” You got back up and faced Sam who was more that 2 meters away from you. You noticed his worn out posture and your heart hurt, when was the last time he felt comfort? You were about to speak but the driver side of the impala opened and you saw Dean exit the car and he ran towards you, crushing you into a hug.

“Y/N. Oh dear god I missed you” You sobbed into your best friend’s shoulder and held onto him dearly. You didn’t know he was back, after killing Dick you had no idea where he or Cas went.

“When did you get back?” You sniffed and Bobby stared at the three of you in pure confusion.

“About 3 years ago, where the hell have you been? Why didnt you come back with Sam” The sheer mention of his name made your heart swell and you ignored his question. You picked up your child and you kissed his temple.

“Bobby meet your uncle, Dean” Both Sam and Dean’s eyes grew wider and Dean broke out into a loving smile. He chuckled with tears and looked at his nephew.

“Uncle Dwean? Do you know my daddy?” Your eyes finally locked with Sam’s and he looked as if he was having a panic attack.

“Baby, stay here with Uncle Dean, okay?” You walked to Sam and he ran up to you pulling you into a hug.

“I’m sorry, Y/N… I’m so sorry” Sam fell to his knees and he hugged your lower half of your body. His tears seeped into your shirt and onto your stomach. Your heart ached for him and your hatred began to disintegrate.

“I’m so sorry…. i had to leave, Y/N. I had to go” You kept quiet and caressed his hair.

“Sam get up” You whispered, your hand not leaving his hair while he slowly arose. You touched his cheek, memorising his face incase he left you again.

“I’m not gonna lie to you, he’s your child.” Sam looked over to Bobby who was telling an ecstatic Dean a story. You saw the happiness in Dean’s eyes and the adventure in Bobby’s.

“I loved you so much but you left me with nothing but a damn bun in the oven oh and the letter I wrote you… but that’s okay. I know you wanted out and I accepted that over the four years, so you don’t have to be sorry. I’m okay with it.”  Every word you said was a lie, you still love him, you weren’t okay with it and you still havent accepted it.

“Well I haven’t accepted it. I still love you and if he’s mine, you’re not leaving my sight ever again, whether you like it or not. I’m sorry I left but never did I want out. I had to leave to protect you. I’m cursed Y/N i cant be with someone and them being okay at the end of the day. But now Dean and I found a place where no evil can harm us, ever again.” Sam shook his head, he held your hand and placed it on his chest, close to his heart.

“CURSED? Dammit Sam… you realise I was a damn hunter before I met you guys? I can protect myself, I have been for four fucking years….” You paused and sighed. Part of you wanted him to leave and never come back but the other half held onto him. “but i love you too dammit. “ He broke out into a smile and grabbed your head softly while he placed a soft kiss on your lips. You missed  the spark you two had whenever you touched him or he touched you. You threw your hands around his neck and deepened the reuniting kiss.

“Ewwwww mummy” You heard Bobby groan and you reluctantly pulled away from Sam. You looked over to Bobby and motioned for him to come over. He ran into your arms and you picked him up, hoisting him onto your side. You looked over to Sam and he gazed lovingly at your child.

“Bobby, sweety. This is Sam. Your daddy” Bobby’s eyes widened along with his smile and he looked like Christmas came early.

“Daddy looks like a superhero mummy” Sam laughed and he was shocked when Bobby extended his hands towards him. Sam reluctantly reached towards your child and he was scared to say the least. But that didn’t stop your child from hugging his neck. Sam smiled while Bobby curled up with his hands around Sam’s neck.

“Are you going to leave again Daddy?” your eyes travelled to Sams and a tear of joy fell down his hazel brown eyes.

“Never again, Bobby.Never ever again.”

anonymous asked:

1. captain duckling perhaps??

prompt: I have you shoved against the wall but now I can’t stop looking at your mouth (I went with Lieutenant Duckling on this one instead, hope you don’t mind!)

Her lungs scream for breath as green wool rips beneath her fingertips to reveal ghastly wings, gnarly fangs angling towards her as the carefree waltz transforms to something far more lethal. Shreds of her pink gown now dance alone in the air between her and the feral simian creature who was just moments ago an overeager Prince sweeping her across the gilded ballroom under the hopeful eye of her mother and father, Queen and King of the Realm. 

Festivities now far from mind, she conjures the full strength of her magic with thoughts of protecting those she loves, Mother, Father, Brother, her people, and yes…even him, three years gone and his place in her heart has yet to fade. The creature before her disintegrates under the force of her light, the arrow sent by her mother streaking through the air and sinking deep in the crimson draped wooden throne in the corner. Mother and daughter share a glance, words unspoken said clearly before refocusing on the battle at hand. The entire visiting contingency from OZ has sprouted wings, or so it seems. Her father’s sword and mother’s bow make quick work of the demons in their wake, leaving Emma and her newly reformed step-grandmother Regina to magically handle the rest. Still new to using her powers, Emma feels the tingles beneath her fingertips begin to wane and she closes her eyes and tries desperately to focus. 

It all happens so quickly. An unholy screech pierces her eardrums, but before she can even turn towards the sound she finds herself encompassed by a body much larger than hers, strong arms wrapping around her from behind to drag her into a hidden alcove. Struggling and cursing her obnoxiously billowed skirts, she tries to free her foot from the many layers so she can find her footing before whomever her captor is can gain further advantage. With as much force as she can muster, she slams her elbow backwards, the unexpected contact with the brute’s abdomen causing his arms to slightly loosen. 

“Bloody hell…”

If she weren’t so overwhelmed with the chaos of the moment she would have known at those two words, but she’s too determined to win this fight to recognize the voice of the man she loves. 

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anonymous asked:

KC AU week : Klaus and Caroline are soulmates, and if one of them is harmed in any way, the other one get harmed in the same way.

So this was supposed to go up on Au Week and obviously I’m late but I hope this makes up for it?

To the lovely Anon who sent this, thank you so much, I really liked playing around with ideas for this prompt ;)

Set some (quite a lot) years in the future where all the grass is green and Omen baby doesn’t exist.

“Your Power in my Veins”

“You won’t get away with this, Marcel,” Klaus growled, his voice dripping in fury, muscles of his arms straining against the shackles he was magically bound with. It took a coven of witches to captivate him and even then, he managed to take out half of them.

But it still fell one half short.

“Really? And how do you suppose you’ll get to punish me? Snarl at me from your shackles?” Marcel taunted him while shoving a stake through his abdomen forcefully, in process of draining him of blood, the dungeon specially crafted to contain a hybrid giving him a sense of security.

Klaus smirked momentarily – just how false that sense of his was – only to let out a hiss of pain a second later as the staked pierced his intestines. These were always such a bitch to rebuild.

Marcel must have planned this for quite some time, he pondered in haze. Klaus had been certain that the witches of NOLA owned their allegiance to him.

However, when he thought about it, they could have been a little irked with him lately as he threatened a lot of them to bring his younger brother back to the land of living undead.

How Kol managed to create problems for him, even trapped in the afterlife, was beyond him.

Caroline would probably contribute this latest fickle he had found himself in to karma or some other nonsense, for daggering his siblings time and again.

“Face it, Klaus, there is no one in New Orleans who could, or would, help you. From what I gathered, Elijah is in Europe, vacationing with the lovely Katrina and your dear sister is off in Buenos Aires dallying with that Enzo dolt, that your girlfriend was thoughtless enough to introduce her to.”

An overwhelming urge to end Marcel’s existence crossed Klaus’ thoughts at once, a bunch of different scenarios filling his mind, spurred on by the insult the younger vampire dared to spring on his mate. As soon as he got out of this shackles, his former protégé would meet his punishment and it wouldn’t be an easy one, visions of years of torture and psychological damage providing Klaus with temporary satisfaction that allowed him to reign in his temper and not take the bait.

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Inktober Day 1

I’m doing a whole month of cute witches!  This is hand-inked, but I did add some photoshop grays–eventually I’ll copic all of these into nice full-color illustrations.

It is all in honor of my book Wanda’s Wart (find it here or here)–which I’m touting a bunch right now because October isn’t just Inktober, it is also Bullying Prevention month–and bullying is a topic near to my heart and which I touched upon in this indie picture book.


A quick sketch of Natsu, Lucy, Gray, and Juvia in chibi form! My imagination sometimes goes out of control. I thought this little story would be cute…
The prince and princess are forced to be engaged (even though they’re both great friends) but the witch orders the dragon to capture the princess. Then, Gray tries to rescue Lucy by fighting the witch, Juvia. Juvia had a horrible past, everybody hating her because she was a witch. Meanwhile, Lucy meets the dragon, Natsu, finding out that he was a friendly dragon and gets to know each other. Eventually, Gray ends up saving Juvia and Natsu and Lucy became best friends. And hearts begins to change.
So yeah, don’t know if I should make a short story out of this… But if anyone of you are interested, you can ask me. ;)

I'm falling apart physically and mentally, but mostly physically
  • Angel: *lands in front of an old shack and knocks on the door*
  • Witch: *opens door*
  • Angel: Hiiii!
  • Witch: *slams door*
  • Angel: Heeey!
  • Witch: *opens door again* What do you want?
  • Angel: I just came by to see my best friend! *makes heart shape with her hands* What else?
  • Witch: We're not friends.
  • Angel: You opened the door for me. Why would you do that if we weren't friends? *smiles innocently*
  • Witch: Ugh, I don't know. Just come in.
  • Angel: So, what are you doing today?
  • Witch: Brewing stuff as usual.
  • Angel: Are you brewing pumpkin soup!? I want some!
  • Witch: Pumpkin soup? What? No. I'm brewing a deadly potion, like usual.
  • Angel: *grabs the witch's arm* Hey, let's go outside and play.
  • Witch: Don't touch me! I'm doing very delicate work.
  • Angel: *sighs* Boring.
  • Witch: I've got magazines beside the couch. Read one of those and stop bothering me.
  • Angel: *flips through a magazine* I can't read!
  • Witch: You really are a moron.
  • Angel: I'm an angel. I don't need to learn to read. *leans over the witch's shoulder* Hey, can I help you brew?
  • Witch: You know what, sure. I need more ingredients. Do you know those flowers that grow beneath the sands in the wasteland?
  • Angel: Uh huh.
  • Witch: Good, I need you to go dig me up a couple.
  • Angel: Oh, digging is so fun! *flies off through the roof*
  • Angel: *surveys the wasteland from high above* I need to find a nice digging spot. Hmm... there goes a place!
  • Angel: *flies off to a sandy spot that is indistinguishable from all of the other sandy spots in the wasteland which is just one endless sandy spot in itself*
  • Angel: This is going to be fun! I'll pretend to be a puppy! *tongue lulls out of her mouth as she digs through the sand like a dog*
  • Angel: *hand touches something fleshy* Aroo?
  • Buried Man: *yawns after being slapped in the face by the angel and wakes up* Who's there? Martha?
  • Angel: I'm not Martha. I'm an angel.
  • Buried Man: An angel? Where am I?
  • Angel: The wasteland.
  • Buried Man: What the hell am I doing in a wasteland?
  • Angel: I don't know. You died, I guess. Everyone who's dead comes to the wasteland.
  • Buried Man: I'm not dead. How could I be dead when I'm talking to you right now?
  • Angel: Hmm, that's a good question. I don't know how this whole thing works. I only live here.
  • Buried Man: I don't really care. Just help me out of all this sand.
  • Angel: *pulls the man from the sand revealing that he has nothing below his torso and his entrails are hanging out*
  • Buried Man: AHH! JESUS! HELP ME! OH MY JESUS, HELP! *desperately attempts to put his entrails back inside of himself*
  • Angel: *internally* How does he know my big brother?
  • Buried Man: My guts are hanging out! Please get help! Don't just stand there!
  • Angel: What kind of help?
  • Buried Man: A doctor! A surgeon! Anyone! I NEED HELP!
  • Angel: Ah, I think I know just the person. I'll take you to her. Here, hop on my back.
  • Buried Man: *clings onto the angel's back with all of his strength*
  • Angel: Okay, don't loosen your grip. *flies off at mach speed*
  • Buried Man: *looks back to see his entrails flying out* STOP! STOP! YOU HAVE TO STOP!
  • Angel: I can't stop now!
  • Buried Man: Then slow down! My guts are flying away!
  • Angel: I can only fly at one speed! Stop being so picky! Ah, here we are! *flies through the witch's roof*
  • Angel: Hi, I'm back!
  • Witch: Son of a bitch!
  • Angel: *gasps* You said a swear!
  • Witch: Ugh! Remember when you knocked on my door? I'd really prefer if you did that more often. Wood's hard to come by around these parts and I can't keep having you ruin my roof.
  • Angel: I'm sorry. It's just that there's this guy, and he doesn't have any legs, and he kept yelling for me to help him, and he knows my big brother, and I don't know. He's on my back. You talk to him. *notices the man isn't on her back anymore* Huh, where'd he go???
  • Witch: *hands the angel a hammer and bag of nails* I don't care what you're on about, but if you want to help me you can get to fixing my roof.
  • Angel: I can pretend to be an architect! *flies through roof*
  • Angel: Sorry!
  • *elsewhere*
  • Buried Man: *drags himself towards a lung with one arm as his other arm has been broken* Gotcha.
  • Buried Man: *flips himself onto his back, wipes sand off of his lung by rubbing it on his shirt, and stuffs it back into his body* Okay, that's both of my lungs. I still need to find my kidneys, heart, all of my intestines, and those other miscellaneous body parts...
  • Buried Man: *stares at the colorless sun in the gray sky*
  • Buried Man: Martha...