Ash

Law enforcement, cat lover, he/it (rp blog)

[memewhore]

[ruffboi-mags]

unmute for the love of god please it's amazing

[moonlightdistractions]

to think I would have just swiped past on mute, therefore not hearing pure unadulterated joy

[ask-hound]

*hooded figure approaches and forces a chloroform soaked rag over Hound’s face. He finds himself in an abandoned warehouse, tied to a chair and bleeding from a somehow reopened scar*

Do you know why you’re here? You do know drugs are illegal right? Or at least the ones you were injecting with someone else. We have eyes everywhere. Do you have anything to say to defend yourself?

*the hooded stranger grabs a knife and traces it against Hound’s scars*

Hound… well. Hound is out of it.

They blink sluggishly, trying to get the world to stop spinning for long enough that they can figure out where they are. It’s dark, dark and cold, especially so considering that Hound’s been stripped down to their undershirt and cargo pants by the disguised figure holding a knife to the track marks marring the inside of their arm.

They think they hear about half of what the person said, something about drugs being illegal and eyes everywhere and having to defend themself. It feels like every thought is moving through molasses, making it nearly impossible for Hound to string together what their captor is trying to tell them.

“Who… ‘re you?” they slur, eyelids heavy; the only thing keeping them from passing out is the adrenaline beginning to flood their veins as the gravity of the situation slowly sets in. Hound’s head drops toward their chest, too exhausted and dazed to keep staring straight at the figure. Their captor, seemingly annoyed, grabs them by the chin and wrenches their head up so Hound will look them in the face, despite their unfocused gaze and tenuous hold on awareness.

[ashbatblr]

*the hooded figure grows annoyed, muttering something about noncompliance and Hound being “too high to comprehend what’s going on”. “I ask the questions here, Hound. Do you have anything to defend yourself against the usage of LSD?” the hooded figure hissed. “I’d hate for something terrible to happen if you didn’t follow exactly what i’m asking.” The figure starts slowly pushing the knife into Hound’s arm before returning it to a side table. It leaves a mark, though surprisingly it wasn’t enough to actually break the skin. “Now, I want a confession from you. Just be honest and this will hurt a whole lot less than it could be.”

[ask-hound]

Hound looks up at the figure pleadingly. They still aren’t quite sure what’s happening, but they’re pretty sure there’s something they’re supposed to be doing and they’re not doing it.

“ ‘M sorry,” they mumble. “I don’t— wha’s happening?” The gears in their brain are starting to turn slightly faster, and they manage to register the words “LSD” and “confession” and manage to piece together what they’re pretty sure their captor wants to hear.

“…Hurts without it,” Hound slurs, shamefully turning their face as far away as they can, given the hooded figure’s grasp on their chin. “ ‘s all too much. To live with. W’out the drugs.” They sluggishly glance back over at their captor, who doesn’t look particularly satisfied with the answer, but they try their luck anyways. “…I was— was good. Do I get to go now? ‘M tired…”

[ashbatblr]

The hooded figure looks surprised momentarily before returning to a state of anger. “Look, I didn’t want to do this, but I have no choice. Actually, I was looking forward to this but you’re pretty pathetic. It’s not gong to be fun to hurt you. Nevertheless, i’m getting my money’s worth”. The hooded figure picks up the knife and stares at it thoughtfully before gripping it. “Well, maybe this will change your mind.” It begins lightly sawing at one of Hound’s fingers with the sharp grey knife, smiling to himself and seeming almost proud, as though this was some major accomplishment.

[ask-hound]

The second the pain starts, Hound is a lot more aware. They make a startled, choked-off noise at the first cut— their pain tolerance is unsettlingly high, it’s only the unexpectedness of the injury that gets to them.

Hound gasps, and then screams in earnest, when their captor starts digging the knife into the second joint of their finger. The pain and horror is flushing the last of the lethargy out of their system, and they struggle against their bonds, trying to pull their wrists free from the ropes binding them to the arms of the chair.

When the mutilation is finally over, Hound tries to keep their eyes averted from their hand as their chest heaves. Through the radio static consuming their brain— shock, probably— the realization dawns on them with some kind of sick humor that their hands are even now. Half of their right pinky has been missing for as long as they can remember (although that’s only really a few years) and they’re dimly aware that now they’re missing the same amount of their left ring finger. Something about it is so funny that they almost laugh, but the sound morphs into a sob halfway out of their mouth.

Hound shivers uncontrollably, a mix of adrenaline and pain and shock overwhelming their system. They hear the sound of metal on metal as the knife is placed on something obscured in the blind side of their vision.

They still don’t know what their captor wants to hear. They still don’t know what to say to make him stop.

[ashbatblr]

The hooded figure breathes a sigh of joy, which is quite odd considering the circumstances. He picks up the now disjointed finger and quickly places it in a semi stained envelope with the words “TO [name blurred]”, written in big letters by what looks to be sharpie. He turns back to Hound and sighs once more. “Look, i’m getting paid by the hour, and it’s only a few days before you’re getting picked up. Just try not to struggle. The more you protest, the more limbs will be cut off. And we don’t want you to be completely broken, now do we? You should have known to make better choices. Well, we can’t change the past.” The hooded figure thinks for a moment. Hound notices a nail clipper by his feet. The hooded figure leaves momentarily; it is likely he’ll come back with something much deadlier, perhaps a chainsaw.

[ask-hound]

*hooded figure approaches and forces a chloroform soaked rag over Hound’s face. He finds himself in an abandoned warehouse, tied to a chair and bleeding from a somehow reopened scar*

Do you know why you’re here? You do know drugs are illegal right? Or at least the ones you were injecting with someone else. We have eyes everywhere. Do you have anything to say to defend yourself?

*the hooded stranger grabs a knife and traces it against Hound’s scars*

Hound… well. Hound is out of it.

They blink sluggishly, trying to get the world to stop spinning for long enough that they can figure out where they are. It’s dark, dark and cold, especially so considering that Hound’s been stripped down to their undershirt and cargo pants by the disguised figure holding a knife to the track marks marring the inside of their arm.

They think they hear about half of what the person said, something about drugs being illegal and eyes everywhere and having to defend themself. It feels like every thought is moving through molasses, making it nearly impossible for Hound to string together what their captor is trying to tell them.

“Who… ‘re you?” they slur, eyelids heavy; the only thing keeping them from passing out is the adrenaline beginning to flood their veins as the gravity of the situation slowly sets in. Hound’s head drops toward their chest, too exhausted and dazed to keep staring straight at the figure. Their captor, seemingly annoyed, grabs them by the chin and wrenches their head up so Hound will look them in the face, despite their unfocused gaze and tenuous hold on awareness.

[ashbatblr]

*the hooded figure grows annoyed, muttering something about noncompliance and Hound being “too high to comprehend what’s going on”. “I ask the questions here, Hound. Do you have anything to defend yourself against the usage of LSD?” the hooded figure hissed. “I’d hate for something terrible to happen if you didn’t follow exactly what i’m asking.” The figure starts slowly pushing the knife into Hound’s arm before returning it to a side table. It leaves a mark, though surprisingly it wasn’t enough to actually break the skin. “Now, I want a confession from you. Just be honest and this will hurt a whole lot less than it could be.”

[ask-hound]

Hound looks up at the figure pleadingly. They still aren’t quite sure what’s happening, but they’re pretty sure there’s something they’re supposed to be doing and they’re not doing it.

“ ‘M sorry,” they mumble. “I don’t— wha’s happening?” The gears in their brain are starting to turn slightly faster, and they manage to register the words “LSD” and “confession” and manage to piece together what they’re pretty sure their captor wants to hear.

“…Hurts without it,” Hound slurs, shamefully turning their face as far away as they can, given the hooded figure’s grasp on their chin. “ ‘s all too much. To live with. W’out the drugs.” They sluggishly glance back over at their captor, who doesn’t look particularly satisfied with the answer, but they try their luck anyways. “…I was— was good. Do I get to go now? ‘M tired…”

[ashbatblr]

The hooded figure looks surprised momentarily before returning to a state of anger. “Look, I didn’t want to do this, but I have no choice. Actually, I was looking forward to this but you’re pretty pathetic. It’s not gong to be fun to hurt you. Nevertheless, i’m getting my money’s worth”. The hooded figure picks up the knife and stares at it thoughtfully before gripping it. “Well, maybe this will change your mind.” It begins lightly sawing at one of Hound’s fingers with the sharp grey knife, smiling to himself and seeming almost proud, as though this was some major accomplishment.

[ask-hound]

*hooded figure approaches and forces a chloroform soaked rag over Hound’s face. He finds himself in an abandoned warehouse, tied to a chair and bleeding from a somehow reopened scar*

Do you know why you’re here? You do know drugs are illegal right? Or at least the ones you were injecting with someone else. We have eyes everywhere. Do you have anything to say to defend yourself?

*the hooded stranger grabs a knife and traces it against Hound’s scars*

Hound… well. Hound is out of it.

They blink sluggishly, trying to get the world to stop spinning for long enough that they can figure out where they are. It’s dark, dark and cold, especially so considering that Hound’s been stripped down to their undershirt and cargo pants by the disguised figure holding a knife to the track marks marring the inside of their arm.

They think they hear about half of what the person said, something about drugs being illegal and eyes everywhere and having to defend themself. It feels like every thought is moving through molasses, making it nearly impossible for Hound to string together what their captor is trying to tell them.

“Who… ‘re you?” they slur, eyelids heavy; the only thing keeping them from passing out is the adrenaline beginning to flood their veins as the gravity of the situation slowly sets in. Hound’s head drops toward their chest, too exhausted and dazed to keep staring straight at the figure. Their captor, seemingly annoyed, grabs them by the chin and wrenches their head up so Hound will look them in the face, despite their unfocused gaze and tenuous hold on awareness.

[ashbatblr]

*the hooded figure grows annoyed, muttering something about noncompliance and Hound being “too high to comprehend what’s going on”. “I ask the questions here, Hound. Do you have anything to defend yourself against the usage of LSD?” the hooded figure hissed. “I’d hate for something terrible to happen if you didn’t follow exactly what i’m asking.” The figure starts slowly pushing the knife into Hound’s arm before returning it to a side table. It leaves a mark, though surprisingly it wasn’t enough to actually break the skin. “Now, I want a confession from you. Just be honest and this will hurt a whole lot less than it could be.”

[aforest2006remaster]

concept

a beaded curtain, but instead of beads they’re worms on strings

[aforest2006remaster]

you know… these guys

[fanotastic]

Hi op I hope this satisfies your needs.

[citrineghost]

Needs more worms

I wanna make one of these that is like a literal curtain of worms

No clear strings available to get caught and tangle, I want them nose to ass like some kind of horrible human centipede of worms, covering my doorway

[lonevarg]

@fanotastic more worms

[fanotastic]

Aw fuck. Nothing makes you assholes happy.

[fanotastic]

Fuck you guys.

[fanotastic]

[fanotastic]

My fellow fuckers, I present you-

384

[fanotastic]

Happy Pride Month

The worm curtain is GAY

[stele3]

The flute glass full of worms…

[inkedcryptid]

@hellsite-hall-of-fame

[ashbatblr]

I tried being completely different from myself, and it worked?? Channeling Ollie helped. I’m not just beating people up. I’m using words and reasoning and logic.

fucking damn it why does he always have to be right?

maybe I should rethink my plans through…

[ashbatblr]

Hey…If you’re watching this I wanted to tell you that I’m out! Don’t worry about me vampire, I’m alright. There was a late night call at the shop but it doesn’t seem that bad. We can play cards when I get back? You choose the game this time. -@ava-the-card

*it smiles*

Was getting worried….It’ll be fine. She’ll come back. Stuff like this has happened before, but it’s ok. I should probably get ready. There’s some people I should talk to and they’re coming soon.

[ashbatblr]

*It starts getting ready, polishing its wings and sharpening its fangs. It then goes over to wear something similar to a corset top and some black shorts*

Okay, they’re coming in 5. 4. 3. 2-

*doorbell rings and plays some music*

They’re here.

*it opens the door and gulps*

Hey…mother. Where are the others?

In a tree, on the roof, in the kitchen, and the rest didn’t want to show up

Why?

You know why. Anyhow, I’m not here for you.

Why? I don’t know.

I’m not arguing with you today. Where is it.

Why don’t you want me around anymore? You and the others disappeared when I moved away. Never visiting, never calling, nothing. So no, I don’t know why.

Because you lied to us! You stole and lied about it to the bat nation and expect us to forgive you!? You kidnapped some bats for who know why and you wonder why nobody wants you around. You’re dangerous, Ash. You should’ve been locked up when given the chance.

I’ve changed. You haven’t seen me in ten years! It wasn’t even theft! I was framed. They kidnapped me, used me to steal a “special knife”, and lied to you about it! Why do you still trust them!

I told you, I’m not arguing with you. You heard what I said that night. I’m not staying with a criminal. I will say it one final time. Where. Is. It.

I’m not giving it to you.

Yes you will. Or else you’ll be cut. No coven, no nation, no friends, no others, none. Kicked out for millennia.

Why do you want it so badly!? It isn’t even that powerful. It’s just a knife! I use it to cut my lettuce!

*it flies to the kitchen to grab a shiny knife*

Wrong knife dumbass

That’s the knife. I don’t have another one. I don’t know what to tell you.

YOURE LYING I KNOW YOU ARE! ILL BE BACK ASH. I WILL FIND YOU AGAIN. WHEN I DO, YOUR ASS IS DEAD.

[ashbatblr]

Hey…If you’re watching this I wanted to tell you that I’m out! Don’t worry about me vampire, I’m alright. There was a late night call at the shop but it doesn’t seem that bad. We can play cards when I get back? You choose the game this time. -@ava-the-card

*it smiles*

Was getting worried….It’ll be fine. She’ll come back. Stuff like this has happened before, but it’s ok. I should probably get ready. There’s some people I should talk to and they’re coming soon.

[deepwaterfiction]

Text: The witch on the other side of the woods has a habit of turning people into snails. The crows bring them to me to change back, I assume because humans + magic tastes horrible.

[ashbatblr]

Hi