"Many people loathe the wrong shadows."

Ask Blog for Ainsley Douglas/Blakesley a.k.a the "Bastard" and some others, Mun is M&Ms and I offer no ill will, answers will be written instead background and pfp were made with picrew

[lost-and-void]

With Shiloh and Violinist going on, does that mean Ainsley is off the list? 😔 (haha, probs not)

[Lmao! You wish! Like Azrael would forget about his least favorite bastard!]

[ask-thesoulcatcher]

"Hola amigos! Welcome to my ask blog!"

[theunconcernedembalmer]

This is pretty lazy but. Follow up to the Simp AU tm. Anon know that I am Not Kidding when I say I absolutely adore this concept

[thehopefulquotes]

Sometimes people think they know you. They know a few facts about you, and they piece you together in a way that makes sense to them. And if you don't know yourself very well, you might even believe that they are right. But the truth is, that isn't you. That isn't you at all.

— Leila Sales

[lost-and-void]

[and then he learned he is meant to be the angel of death]

~~

@nootnotno​

[idv-ask-thebastard]

[soracities]

“At night there’s another life…we don’t talk about it but we notice…Time is much kinder at night, there’s nothing to wait for, nothing is out of date…”

— John Berger, From A to X: A Story in Letters

[idv-ask-thebastard]

“Yeah… Hopefully the ceiling is high enough. I’ll see you at midnight, Azrael.”

As the bastard parted to his quarters to wait, a tingling feeling began to arise from the depths of his heart. Was it the taste of faltering faith in his statement, or simply worrying about nothing? There was a possibility that she could be in the reversed realm, the same structure of this world, but every role is reversed. However, he would’ve gotten a letter from her about that if that were the case. Even the hunter version would be here, wouldn’t she?

“Lord in Heaven, let me be right about this please.”

Ainsley had lost faith in God a while ago, but he still hoped his prayer would still reach His ears. Ainsley Blakesley was going to Hell, and somehow that felt familiar to him. Was it just his father’s words pricking him again? Must be because he was certain that his heart still sung with life.

Once the man was inside the comforts of his room, he sank down onto a chair and stared at the unfinished projects on his desk. Usually he would finish them after some input from Gwenda, but now they laid here with no kind words to guide them to completion. Ainsley stared at the trinkets for hours end, the clock being his constant reminder of reality. When he heard the knocking on the wooden door, he stood up from where he sat and grabbed his suitcase, head faced towards the door as heat boiled up in his room.

“Come in. Left the door unlocked.”

Ainsley called out, loud enough for the demon to hear but quiet to not wake up anyone resting. When Azrael would enter the room, he would be able to make out several blueprints of item designs, photos of a young girl resembling him and an older woman, and what is now called a growing door inside his room. Ainsley, though a bit shaken at the Hell Door in his room now, stared down Azrael with a neutral expression in acknowledgement. He opened his mouth, letting just one word to fall out.

“Ready?”

@idv-ask-azrael

[lost-and-void]

“Nobody is ever fully prepared”, the demon replied neutrally rather than providing an actual answer. He did not feel like talking, really, he just wanted to get this over with. Every part of this mission did not feel right to him, from the part with his lune to going to hell. By now he had a rough idea where this gate would lead them but he did not fully trust the source he had heard it from.

“However, I can say I did the best I could to make this mission go as smoothly as possible… whatever awaits us”, he added shortly after entering the room. Suitcase on his hand and sword on his hip, waited. Since he hadn’t been delivered any instructions, he had to rely on Ainsley to do whatever had to be done. This made him stare at the human with a hostile, uneasy gaze even though he tried his best to hide it. He stood upright, proper and serious. His body felt stiff, every movement was uncomfortable and he felt like taking something to ease his nerves, sugar or other. Just something. But that would seem unprofessional. So he held back. Instead, his restless fingers clung to his suitcase like those of a nervous child, trying to keep his sweating hands busy. He forced his breathing to slow down. Since when did the return to hell have such an extreme effect on him? Or was it not hell but something else? Or someone? After staring just a little longer (or was it just some seconds? It certainly felt much longer), he could not even take the silence in the room.

“What?”, he snapped. The tension he felt was quite evident from his tone. If it wasn’t the bastard, he might have even apologized later for this outburst of his. “You received the letter, they surely told you what to do. So do something!”

[idv-ask-thebastard]

“Will do.”

Ainsley replied with an odd sense of patience, noting the apprehension in the demon. Reminded him of Sarah when she’s in a bad mood or on edge, which was often spurred by Demi’s drinks and matches. Mental note, make arrangements with Aurie to have things for Azrael to calm down when they get there. Ainsley turned his body and attention to the blazing door, clearing his throat of any fright before calling out.

“Melvilli, open Hell’s Door.”

“As you wish, Marquess Blakesley.”

A familiar voice replied as the door swung opened to a staircase leading down to Hell and what appeared to be Priestess holding her key. “Is everyone I know in this manor going to be a demon?” Ainsley mentally groaned at the thought, not really ecstatic of seeing certain people in such a place. “Melvilli” stepped forward from the door to offer her respects to Ainsley, bowing down to him before noticing Azrael in the room.

“Ah! I did not expect your guest to be the Demon of Death, Marquess Blakesley! How fortunate you are to be in his presence!”

The enthusiasm in her voice and all that bowing made Ainsley cringed with discomfort. Fortunate? More like an unfortunate choice because he had no other one! He forced a smile on his face as he watched the Priestess bow before the demon and sang praises about him.

“Yes. Very fortunate to have met him and take him as my guest. May we proceed to the ferries that’ll take us safely to Makaria, please?”

“My deepest apologies, Marquess Blakesley. Please follow me, gentlemen.”

“Melvilli” regained her composure as she went towards the door, stepping inside with Ainsley following her down the staircase. The stairs were rickety, almost as if they were about to break, but never did with each step taken. The heat, sounds of damnation, and even the daunting atmosphere were sending chills to the bastard; was this seriously the place for damned souls gathered in anguish because it was certainly making him feel quite squeamish and frightened.

[lost-and-void]

Was that… the priestess? It must be! The face certainly was hers and her fiery hair was styled into the same, long braid resting on her shoulder. This type of creating a story, like a special event, a carnival of some sort with all types of fantastical themes and myths was nothing new to the manor. But Azrael had not known it could be so… real. He maintained his composure as well as he could, not showing the surprise he felt.

Fortunate? Well, probably not and yet, I guess, fortunate enough to make this work. Hopefully. They had to. For the sake of Gwennie.

Not knowing what exactly he had to do or when he actually had to pay, Azrael just followed them after a short moment of hesitation. A wave of hot, dry air hit his purple skin, making the demon flinch in discomfort and squint to shield his eyes from the first impact. Slowly, he relaxed while still following the two beings ahead of him, trying to keep up. Even though he tried to move as fluently and gracefully as he normally did, his body was still tense but not as tense as before. This hostile climate he knew very well, after all. A weird sense of nostalgia faintly ghosted through his memory -a mix of nightmares, a sweet scent and forgotten dreams. It made him want to vomit.

Yet there was a part of him which grew more confident with each step. And he could not deny the strange feeling of a cynical nostalgia rising in his chest as he descended to hell once again.

[idv-ask-thebastard]

As "Melvili" continued to lead the two men down the staircase, Ainsley took a moment to look behind him and check on Azrael. Tension could be seen in the demon's form, something Ainsley could not help, but feel sorry and concern for the latter. He turned his attention back to the front, hoping to himself that Azrael could pull through the rapid transition from the manor to Hell. Part of him wanted to say it was going to be alright, but Ainsley was absolutely positive that he would be pushed off the staircase for that. Not blaming Azrael if he did that, honestly the bastard was tempted to do it himself due to discomfort in this place. The staircase would appear to end at a makeshift fence, the priestess leading them quietly to the gate and opening it for the two, gesturing for them to enter.

"I'm afraid this is as far I can go, gentlemen. May your voyage be enjoying for you."

Alright, that's totally fine. Leave him alone with Azrael again, that's fine he'd supposed. Ainsley's grasp on his suitcase tightened as he assumed the way inside the poorly guarded area; even with how large the terribly made fences were, the decks to Makaria were small in comparison with too many people standing around. As the two men came closer, two souls ran towards them and started to lead them in seperate directions with haste. If any of them were to ask what was going on, the reply would always be "to your ferry, sir." spoken in different tones by a equivalent of the embalmer and an unfamiliar child.

[thebookquotes]

I am tired. These people make me feel I have a hole in the middle of me.

— D.H. Lawrence, from The Complete Works; The Plumbed Serpent

[thezeroquotes]

There comes a point when you either embrace who and what you are, or condemn yourself to be miserable all your days. Other people will try to make you miserable; don't help them by doing the job yourself.

— Laurell K. Hamilton

[ask-cynical-green-friends]

Cynical Gardener? I approve uwu

Well, I don’t approve of you, Mr aristocrat money man.

(guest artist: @flowwerpot)

[idv-ask-thebastard]

Pfffffffffftttt, lmao. Yes, I'm totally Ainsley the Bastard a.k.a Mr aristocrat money man xD

[idv-ask-thebastard]

“Yeah… Hopefully the ceiling is high enough. I’ll see you at midnight, Azrael.”

As the bastard parted to his quarters to wait, a tingling feeling began to arise from the depths of his heart. Was it the taste of faltering faith in his statement, or simply worrying about nothing? There was a possibility that she could be in the reversed realm, the same structure of this world, but every role is reversed. However, he would’ve gotten a letter from her about that if that were the case. Even the hunter version would be here, wouldn’t she?

“Lord in Heaven, let me be right about this please.”

Ainsley had lost faith in God a while ago, but he still hoped his prayer would still reach His ears. Ainsley Blakesley was going to Hell, and somehow that felt familiar to him. Was it just his father’s words pricking him again? Must be because he was certain that his heart still sung with life.

Once the man was inside the comforts of his room, he sank down onto a chair and stared at the unfinished projects on his desk. Usually he would finish them after some input from Gwenda, but now they laid here with no kind words to guide them to completion. Ainsley stared at the trinkets for hours end, the clock being his constant reminder of reality. When he heard the knocking on the wooden door, he stood up from where he sat and grabbed his suitcase, head faced towards the door as heat boiled up in his room.

“Come in. Left the door unlocked.”

Ainsley called out, loud enough for the demon to hear but quiet to not wake up anyone resting. When Azrael would enter the room, he would be able to make out several blueprints of item designs, photos of a young girl resembling him and an older woman, and what is now called a growing door inside his room. Ainsley, though a bit shaken at the Hell Door in his room now, stared down Azrael with a neutral expression in acknowledgement. He opened his mouth, letting just one word to fall out.

“Ready?”

@idv-ask-azrael

[lost-and-void]

“Nobody is ever fully prepared”, the demon replied neutrally rather than providing an actual answer. He did not feel like talking, really, he just wanted to get this over with. Every part of this mission did not feel right to him, from the part with his lune to going to hell. By now he had a rough idea where this gate would lead them but he did not fully trust the source he had heard it from.

“However, I can say I did the best I could to make this mission go as smoothly as possible… whatever awaits us”, he added shortly after entering the room. Suitcase on his hand and sword on his hip, waited. Since he hadn’t been delivered any instructions, he had to rely on Ainsley to do whatever had to be done. This made him stare at the human with a hostile, uneasy gaze even though he tried his best to hide it. He stood upright, proper and serious. His body felt stiff, every movement was uncomfortable and he felt like taking something to ease his nerves, sugar or other. Just something. But that would seem unprofessional. So he held back. Instead, his restless fingers clung to his suitcase like those of a nervous child, trying to keep his sweating hands busy. He forced his breathing to slow down. Since when did the return to hell have such an extreme effect on him? Or was it not hell but something else? Or someone? After staring just a little longer (or was it just some seconds? It certainly felt much longer), he could not even take the silence in the room.

“What?”, he snapped. The tension he felt was quite evident from his tone. If it wasn’t the bastard, he might have even apologized later for this outburst of his. “You received the letter, they surely told you what to do. So do something!”

[idv-ask-thebastard]

"Will do."

Ainsley replied with an odd sense of patience, noting the apprehension in the demon. Reminded him of Sarah when she's in a bad mood or on edge, which was often spurred by Demi's drinks and matches. Mental note, make arrangements with Aurie to have things for Azrael to calm down when they get there. Ainsley turned his body and attention to the blazing door, clearing his throat of any fright before calling out.

"Melvilli, open Hell's Door."

"As you wish, Marquess Blakesley."

A familiar voice replied as the door swung opened to a staircase leading down to Hell and what appeared to be Priestess holding her key. "Is everyone I know in this manor going to be a demon?" Ainsley mentally groaned at the thought, not really ecstatic of seeing certain people in such a place. "Melvilli" stepped forward from the door to offer her respects to Ainsley, bowing down to him before noticing Azrael in the room.

"Ah! I did not expect your guest to be the Demon of Death, Marquess Blakesley! How fortunate you are to be in his presence!"

The enthusiasm in her voice and all that bowing made Ainsley cringed with discomfort. Fortunate? More like an unfortunate choice because he had no other one! He forced a smile on his face as he watched the Priestess bow before the demon and sang praises about him.

"Yes. Very fortunate to have met him and take him as my guest. May we proceed to the ferries that'll take us safely to Makaria, please?"

"My deepest apologies, Marquess Blakesley. Please follow me, gentlemen."

"Melvilli" regained her composure as she went towards the door, stepping inside with Ainsley following her down the staircase. The stairs were rickety, almost as if they were about to break, but never did with each step taken. The heat, sounds of damnation, and even the daunting atmosphere were sending chills to the bastard; was this seriously the place for damned souls gathered in anguish because it was certainly making him feel quite squeamish and frightened.

[idv-ask-thebastard]

"Yeah... Hopefully the ceiling is high enough. I'll see you at midnight, Azrael."

As the bastard parted to his quarters to wait, a tingling feeling began to arise from the depths of his heart. Was it the taste of faltering faith in his statement, or simply worrying about nothing? There was a possibility that she could be in the reversed realm, the same structure of this world, but every role is reversed. However, he would've gotten a letter from her about that if that were the case. Even the hunter version would be here, wouldn't she?

"Lord in Heaven, let me be right about this please."

Ainsley had lost faith in God a while ago, but he still hoped his prayer would still reach His ears. Ainsley Blakesley was going to Hell, and somehow that felt familiar to him. Was it just his father's words pricking him again? Must be because he was certain that his heart still sung with life.

Once the man was inside the comforts of his room, he sank down onto a chair and stared at the unfinished projects on his desk. Usually he would finish them after some input from Gwenda, but now they laid here with no kind words to guide them to completion. Ainsley stared at the trinkets for hours end, the clock being his constant reminder of reality. When he heard the knocking on the wooden door, he stood up from where he sat and grabbed his suitcase, head faced towards the door as heat boiled up in his room.

"Come in. Left the door unlocked."

Ainsley called out, loud enough for the demon to hear but quiet to not wake up anyone resting. When Azrael would enter the room, he would be able to make out several blueprints of item designs, photos of a young girl resembling him and an older woman, and what is now called a growing door inside his room. Ainsley, though a bit shaken at the Hell Door in his room now, stared down Azrael with a neutral expression in acknowledgement. He opened his mouth, letting just one word to fall out.

"Ready?"

@idv-ask-azrael

[lost-and-void]

“You want to die again?! I can make sure you don’t get up again, this time!”

~~

@idv-ask-thebastard

[lost-and-void]

"Beg your pardon, but did you do something to my niece? She's been proclaiming her faith to the Devil and wondering how was I alive since I was... beheaded." ~ idv-ask-thebastard (slowly getting active)

“Moi? Non! I would never do anything bad to my beloved Aurie! And the last time I checked you were quite dead. I made sure of that.”

‘Proclaiming her faith to the devil’? What a fine way to describe their relationship~ Though, it was more than just faith which connected them.

“How did you return to the land of the living?”

[lost-and-void]

>> prev

“I am less concerned for your well being and more for my own. Since Makaria is a secluded area in hell, things are a lot more complicated. Those communities often almost live in a parallel world. They have their own customs, sometimes even their own language…. and some are quite hostile. Well, I’m sure I’ll manage somehow.”

“But you should be concerned for your own well being. Will you manage?”

At least he had done so in the past. Besides managing to survive he also held a somewhat respected position and knew where to look if he ever needed anything. But this man had not. Diving head first into hell could prove lethal to this fragile mortal. And his inexperience and lack of study clearly showed:

“Furthermore, I advise you to always hold the demonic over the divine. It’s common sense, really! Demons are most likely to do you harm and you can rely on that. Angels however simply do what they think is best, often resulting in a lot of damage in the name of the ‘right’ cause.*”

His short lecture on supernatural beings was interrupted by a sigh of annoyance. He almost felt like was about to watch a child in a room full of traps and knives. The things you do for love! After a short pause he continued:

“So, you said to pack my things. What would I be needing according to you? And will we be going immediately? I take that ring in your hands is not for decorative purposes?”

~~

*In the sense of:

“Me? I’m dishonest, and a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly. It’s the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they’re going to do something incredibly… stupid.” - Captain Jack Sparrow

[idv-ask-thebastard]

“I’ll try my best to manage thanks to a few things Aurie has told me. I’m grateful for your concern for me, Azrael.”

Sarcasm filled the tongue with disdain and discomfort, heart beating as though dropping slowly to Death. Sadly he wasn’t dead, Azrael, it was just a lonely soul trapped inside a doll of mimicry. An disappointed expression stitched itself on Ainsley’s face, a look of “bitch, i already knew that” sent towards Azrael with a frown.

“Young man, with my experience and Phanuel, you think I wouldn’t put Demons over Angels? At least, from what I know from Aurora and her experience, demons finish the job with a crooked smile.”

There was no need to even tell them as the mortal grimaced at the memory of being told those stories about such brutality. Ainsley couldn’t even imagine being killed at the hands of Azrael, a silent gulp made out of fright at the idea. My my my, he’s getting chills as if he was reliving a memory, but he didn’t recognize it. Ah! Azrael changed the subject, finally! He nearly dove back in the darkest corners of his mind; who would want to be trapped by the thoughts of insecurity and loneliness, hm? The expression on Ainsley’s face relaxed a bit, the ring held securely in his left hand as he gave the best possible advice he had. If it could be advice at all, it was just information.

“Pretty simple. Two items of value to pay the ‘ferryman’ to take you across and back, perhaps your sword if a fight ensues because Makarians love to cause chaos with visitors from what I was told (for sport apparently), and your best suit for the party. We’re to part tomorrow with the help of Fiona, Hell’s Gatekeeper apparently. And yes, this ring isn’t for decorative reasons; it’s my free ticket in and out of Hell without being harmed while also our invitation to the party.”

[lost-and-void]

Azrael silently enjoyed the visible discomfort his presence and the memory -no, it was no more than an idea- of a death caused by him brought the other. He simply smirked a bit. After all, he had teased and annoyed the bastard enough already. At least for today~ But let’s get back to the topic at hand!

“So, I have to bribe the ferry man with valuable things… I am sure I can find two little treasures I am willing to part with… As for the sword, I was going to bring it no matter what. Can’t walk through hell without a weapon! I don’t think you have much use for it since they have promised you to stay unharmed. And for my best suit… that might actually take a while. I have so many nice suits… or formal clothing in general… but it seems we have to hurry. Fine! Just give me half an hour.”

After a little more than half an hour, Azrael appeared  with a dark, old fashioned and slightly tattered suitcase in hand.

“So, when are we leaving? Oh, and these two beauties will be enough for the ferry I hope? I find them rather boring actually….”

[idv-ask-thebastard]

As Azrael went to gather his necessities listed by Ainsley, the mortal carefully slipped out a worn journal from the comforts of his coat and started to browse through its pages. Knowing by the words shared with him, the demon would certainly take a while looking for the most perfect attire - probably more than half an hour. Part of him hoped Azrael wouldn't choose one by the nimble hands of Gwenda, but he wasn't made to tilt the hunter's choice for his own pained heart. The slightest piece of creation by Gwenda always made him felt sorrow, the story behind each stitch a tragic melody in the night. He would know because often he's working beside her in that design studio, hearing nothing but the sound of sleeplessness.

"She always reached for the needle and thread when she couldn't rest those inner demons, sneaking away to continue a story within her work."

An internal thought brought back the Aurora he met a while ago, closing his eyes as fingers gripped the next page of his diary. Her mannerisms were on point with what he seen, so were those sleepless passion indented in her eyes and fingers. Not to say he was superior in recognizing everyone he's ever known; Ainsley was not one to be a boastful man about his achievements. After all, Azrael could be right - maybe it was a demon guising as his niece.

When Azrael returned with his quaint suitcase and his chosen payment for the ferryman, Ainsley closed the book and took out what appeared to be a small scope from his breast pocket. With said small item in hand, he eyed the glimmering sights through his tool's senses for a moment before pulling away.

"Yes, those two beauties will do. And midnight, in my room apparently. She's going to bring Hell's Door inside of my room."

[melly-the-entomologist]

Melly: Hello! Melly, Melly the entomologist, or you can call me ento.

I wanted to make an askblog because I saw the others do it. So ask away!

(A/N: sorry the photo is rushed! I wanted to be the first ento askblog qwq, also also after a week i will answer asks :])

[revasser-destiny]

We're nearly reaching 200 followers soon. I swear I have something planned, it's just not the Demon AU as I was originally planning (magic anon as always xD). So until we get to 200 followers, I'll leave this random gif to y'all

[idv-ask-thebastard]

Lemme add to the random gif pile uwu

[lost-and-void]

"Beg your pardon, but did you do something to my niece? She's been proclaiming her faith to the Devil and wondering how was I alive since I was... beheaded." ~ idv-ask-thebastard (slowly getting active)

“Moi? Non! I would never do anything bad to my beloved Aurie! And the last time I checked you were quite dead. I made sure of that.”

‘Proclaiming her faith to the devil’? What a fine way to describe their relationship~ Though, it was more than just faith which connected them.

“How did you return to the land of the living?”

[lost-and-void]

>> prev

“I am less concerned for your well being and more for my own. Since Makaria is a secluded area in hell, things are a lot more complicated. Those communities often almost live in a parallel world. They have their own customs, sometimes even their own language…. and some are quite hostile. Well, I’m sure I’ll manage somehow.”

“But you should be concerned for your own well being. Will you manage?”

At least he had done so in the past. Besides managing to survive he also held a somewhat respected position and knew where to look if he ever needed anything. But this man had not. Diving head first into hell could prove lethal to this fragile mortal. And his inexperience and lack of study clearly showed:

“Furthermore, I advise you to always hold the demonic over the divine. It’s common sense, really! Demons are most likely to do you harm and you can rely on that. Angels however simply do what they think is best, often resulting in a lot of damage in the name of the ‘right’ cause.*”

His short lecture on supernatural beings was interrupted by a sigh of annoyance. He almost felt like was about to watch a child in a room full of traps and knives. The things you do for love! After a short pause he continued:

“So, you said to pack my things. What would I be needing according to you? And will we be going immediately? I take that ring in your hands is not for decorative purposes?”

~~

*In the sense of:

“Me? I’m dishonest, and a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly. It’s the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they’re going to do something incredibly… stupid.” - Captain Jack Sparrow

[idv-ask-thebastard]

"I'll try my best to manage thanks to a few things Aurie has told me. I'm grateful for your concern for me, Azrael."

Sarcasm filled the tongue with disdain and discomfort, heart beating as though dropping slowly to Death. Sadly he wasn't dead, Azrael, it was just a lonely soul trapped inside a doll of mimicry. An disappointed expression stitched itself on Ainsley's face, a look of "bitch, i already knew that" sent towards Azrael with a frown.

"Young man, with my experience and Phanuel, you think I wouldn't put Demons over Angels? At least, from what I know from Aurora and her experience, demons finish the job with a crooked smile."

There was no need to even tell them as the mortal grimaced at the memory of being told those stories about such brutality. Ainsley couldn't even imagine being killed at the hands of Azrael, a silent gulp made out of fright at the idea. My my my, he's getting chills as if he was reliving a memory, but he didn't recognize it. Ah! Azrael changed the subject, finally! He nearly dove back in the darkest corners of his mind; who would want to be trapped by the thoughts of insecurity and loneliness, hm? The expression on Ainsley's face relaxed a bit, the ring held securely in his left hand as he gave the best possible advice he had. If it could be advice at all, it was just information.

"Pretty simple. Two items of value to pay the 'ferryman' to take you across and back, perhaps your sword if a fight ensues because Makarians love to cause chaos with visitors from what I was told (for sport apparently), and your best suit for the party. We're to part tomorrow with the help of Fiona, Hell's Gatekeeper apparently. And yes, this ring isn't for decorative reasons; it's my free ticket in and out of Hell without being harmed while also our invitation to the party."