ash-isnt-writing

[ash-isnt-writing]

my intro post has now been changed to a notice regarding the future of my blog. if you’re not prepared for an important/serious post right now, that’s okay! only read it when you’re ready.

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new theme y'all 💪💪💪

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<3 Brotherly Love <3

In which two brothers that have not seen each other in a long time reunite (in a less-than-positive way).

Characters used/mentioned: Tobiany and Radnar Ramirez (OCs), Irene Ramirez (OC (how many times have i renamed this woman because i forgot her name? who knows.))

Author’s note: All banner images found on Pinterest under the search of simply just “purple aesthetic”. I didn’t really have much to write here. Just had a couple sentences I wanted to write down and that was it. Continuations welcome and encouraged!

standard content warnings apply. blah blah. you get the deal.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

“It’s been a long, long time since we’ve seen each other, dear brother.” The last phrase was spat from the hellborn’s lips, more like a mocking, foul insult than anything.

Tobiany turned on his heels at the voice, and sneered. Because of course, what else could make his day worse than a visit from a man he was well and truly sure he’d exiled. “How the fuck did you get in here?” He growled out, fists clenching at his sides.

Radnar laughed, a dry, joyless laugh, the noise sending a chill down Tobiany’s spine and just making him angrier simultaneously. “The patrols you have up on your walls are pathetic, that’s how.”

He then added; “By the way, black granite? For a castle? Come on, you egotistical maniac. Nothing quite screams insecure like black granite, let alone on such a scale.”

Tobiany felt his eye twitch. He could’ve sworn he’d burst a blood vessel if this man kept talking. “If all you’ve come here for is to insult me, Radnar, then I suggest you leave m-“

Radnar promptly cut him off. “Ordering me around just like old times, huh? Or at least, trying to.” He remarked, beginning to circle him.

“What the fuck is that meant to mean?” Tobiany gritted out, eyes following Radnar’s every move, but his body didn’t follow. He knew if he moved, chances are, he’d lash out.

“You’ve always liked to make yourself feel powerful, dear brother. It’s probably the main reason why father chose you for the throne over me. Because you’re just like him.”

“I’m nothing like our father-“

“Oh but you’re exactly like our father. A carbon copy.” Radnar retorted, staring his brother down now that he stood in front of him.

“I’M NOTHING LIKE OUR FATHER!” Tobiany’s voice bounced off the walls of the throne room, loud and commanding.

Radnar, however, just slowly grinned. “…That’s exactly something our father would do, is it not?”

Tobiany froze. There was so many emotions swirling inside of him. Rage, fear, sadness, among other things he couldn’t quite put names to. Unable to manage a response, he went silent.

“Anywho” Radnar said, breaking the silence that had stretched over several minutes. “I heard your wife’s gone core void-“

“Shut your fucking mouth, Radnar.”

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

[ash-isnt-writing]

bruh it’s so wild. i could say anything here and there’s a 60% chance nobody’s gonna see it. but fuck it we ball

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the follower diff is crazy 😭 (left is main blog, right is this blog)

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Two guys... sittin' in a basement, five feet apart because they're chained to the wall.

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Now finished below!

Keep reading

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i might elaborate. if that’s what the people want. ig.

whumpers with painted nails.

that is all.

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whumpers with painted nails.

that is all.

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Sheer curiosity poll ahead!

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I love non-human whumpees so much!

- Horned whumpees that whumper takes advantage of.

- Whumpees that can purr (best for comfort).

- Whumpees who bite when threatened.

- Whumpees who growl in warning.

- Whumpees who have abilities that backfire when in captivity (horns, sensitive body parts, excellent hearing).

- Whumpees whose eyes change color based on emotion (cliche but whumperflies).

Non-human whumpees are great and are my preferred whumpee!! <3

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am having one of those moments where i have a name for a character but not a character for the name

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{<*>} Aqua Blue {<*>}

Characters used/mentioned; Helix Vellen, Layna Ramirez, TS-0026, other unnamed characters

Writer’s note!!; Sudden impulse writing idk. Might make this a series if people like it, blah blah blah.

standard disclaimers apply, etc etc. you get the drill.

(not bothering with a border this time. i’m tired. i’ll add one later.)

TS-0026, confined to a glass tank filled with water and whatever else the containment team’d had the mercy of providing, surrounded by researchers in white coats and black button ups.

It was a particularly chilling sight to Helix, for whatever reason. More so than the others. Hell, they were only.. what, 15? It felt wrong, in every sense of the word. But he was tied down to this job. He had no other option.

The ginger sighed, and proceeded forward into the surrounding chamber, Layna, his assistant snd secretary, following close. “Does this thing ever sleep?” Helix remarked, more to himself than anybody else, but he wouldn’t mind an answer either.

“Apparently” A nearby researcher responded, Helix’s keen eyes darting over to the speaker. “It just finds a spot, gets comfy, and falls asleep right on the spot, straight into deep stage sleep.”

“…Huh.” Helix murmured, eyes drifting back to the tank. Straight into deep stage? How… weird. “Do we know how it does that?”

“Not a clue” Another passing researcher replied. “It’s harder to run tests on.. well, a merman, considering half our staff don’t know how to swim, and it’s generally quite hard to run exams under water.”

Ah, of course. Helix didn’t know why he hadn’t considered this earlier. He barely knew how the containment team had secured the subject in the first place. It would’ve been a feat in of itself. Actually trying to run tests on it was going to be a whole marathon.

“Well, find a way” He snapped after a moment. “I need answers, and I need them now. If it has some way to just snap into sleep like that… I want to know why, and I want to know if we can utilise it.”

The thing with Helix, Layna had come to learn, was that when he said ‘we’, he never meant himself. Sure, he did the paperwork, but it was rare to see him himself in tests anymore unless he felt he was the only one capable, or it was a test subject he was particularly interested in.

Either way, she found he’d refuse involvement with younger test subjects. Which didn’t seem to stop him when she and her siblings were younger, but alas…

“With all due respect, Doctor, we should probably consult Administration first” Layna cut in. “We really shouldn’t be running any sort of tests until we have their absolute approval.”

As much as Helix wanted to snap at her, she had a point. It would be a stupid idea to just go in and do whatever without authorisation. He’d tried that before, he wasn’t making the same mistake.

“..Right” He sighed, then turned to the younger researcher once more. “Keep an eye on that thing. If it does any shit while I’m gone, do not engage.”

“But sir-“

“There’s no buts here, damn it! Do not engage it at any point until we have greenlit testing approval, is that clear?”

A solemn nod. Helix grunted, and then made his leave. He fucking hated these meetings, but authority was authority, and he knew they were watching him.

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I want to write a book called “your character dies in the woods” that details all the pitfalls and dangers of being out on the road & in the wild for people without outdoors/wilderness experience bc I cannot keep reading narratives brush over life threatening conditions like nothing is happening.

I just read a book by one of my favorite authors whose plots are essentially airtight, but the MC was walking on a country road on a cold winter night and she was knocked down and fell into a drainage ditch covered in ice, broke through and got covered in icy mud and water.

Then she had a “miserable” 3 more miles to walk to the inn.

Babes she would not MAKE it to that inn.

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<#> Untimely Demise <#>

Character(s) used/Mentioned: Christian Ramirez

Author’s note: the boi!! i might make this a series if people like it. idk. not that anyone reads this stuff.

STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY. I WILL TRY TO TAG EVERYTHING THAT I CAN IN TERMS OF CONTENT WARNINGS. I DO NOT TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR IGNORANCE OF THIS WARNING.

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Christian remembered it like it was yesterday. The way he’d felt when he’d been handed his scythe for the first time, when he was 19, feeling so uncertain after signing himself away for a job he wasn’t even fucking sure he wanted to uptake.

He wished he could go back. He wished he’d known how to say no, back then. The things he saw, every single day. The blood. The grief. The tears. No amount of money was worth the sheer trauma this job produced for someone so young.

It wasn’t easy, guiding souls through the Midnight. The shit that resided in there… it was what made most reapers quit, in the past. He wasn’t even sure if there were any other reapers left aside from himself. Not that he wanted to talk to any of them anyway.

The hardest was the walk to Limbo. All those children…. God. It hurt.

He found, though, that old age was the easiest deaths to handle. It sounded a little morbid, of course, but it was the truth. There was no struggle, no denial of death. He didn’t have to get cursed out, or insulted. If anything, they always seemed blissfully peaceful.

They also always had the best stories to tell. It made the Midnight more bearable. All of the souls that got tricked and bought out were stored there. Having a distraction made it easier to ignore, and in turn, easier to navigate.

Sometimes he wished, though, that he could save those souls. Return them to their rightful hosts. But he couldn’t. Not with the Guardians watching.

He couldn’t risk one of them telling his father. Even though he knew they would probably agree… he wasn’t a gambling man.

He was drawn from his thoughts and back into reality at a hand on his shoulder, looking up to meet the eyes of a concerned passerby.

“Hey,” they said, “are you alright? You’ve just sort of been sitting there for a while now.”

“Ah.. yeah, i’m fine” He responded with a meek smile. He’d gotten so lost in memory he’d almost forgotten he wasn’t down there anymore. Although he didn’t doubt that if he were to return it would be no different. “Thank you, though. Just get lost in thought sometimes, y’know?”

“Oh, all too well” They chuckled. “Anyway, i’m in kind of a hurry, i’ve gotta go. Hope you have a good day, though!”

Chris nodded as they walked away, letting out a heavy sigh. He always forgot his scythe was cloaked. He swore some people could almost see through it, sometimes.

Picking up the heavy, bladed staff, he got to his feet, and continued on his way. He was gonna be late, at this rate.

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){}( But you never really tried to stop me, did you? ){}(

A/N: Inspired by @v-3-ll-1-gore ‘s “A Tale As Old As Time”, incorporating my OCs Vesker Faithern, Silver [insert cool last name here], and Vanté Ramirez, and Vell’s OC Rayan Hyacinth.

Warning!!: This work contains written depictions of torture, car crashes, abduction, death/loss of a loved one, and other potentially alarming/disturbing topics. Reader discretion is highly advised.

Edit!!: Title quote credit - Party Hard, Underground cutscene. Voice Actor is unknown, but he was voicing the playable main character Darius.

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Silver was always like Vanté’s saviour. He was there the moment he felt like he was losing grip on everything, and he saved him from that dark place. His touch. His voice. It was everything to him. The way Silver would fall asleep on his shoulder, or in his lap.

Vanté sighed as Rayan’s head was rested on his shoulder. He knew he was asleep. And he supposed he should be enjoying the moment. But it.. it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like him.

Silver’s touch, brushing over his cheeks to wipe his tears away whenever he was crying. Silver was always there. Always. Vanté just wished he knew how to return that favor. He was always so busy, and he hated that he couldn’t hold Silver as much as he really wanted to. So when he finally got home, there wasn’t nearly enough time to catch up. Ever.

Again, Vanté returned to a quiet house. He couldn’t even call it a home anymore. Not after what Rayan did to him. The silence was deafening, and he couldn’t help but feel a little worried. Still, he went about his usual, putting his things away, moving to get changed- a sharp pain in the back of his head, his world fading to black momentarily.

And god, what he would do for Silver. If anything ever happened, if the universe ever let anything happen to his beloved, he would burn it all to the ground. He’d rip apart the galaxy just to find him. He loved him. He loved the way it felt to hold him. He loved the way Silver looked in his shirt, standing under the light of a streetlamp, on the way back from a night out.

Vanté looked away from the bright light. He pulled at his restraints in a vain attempt to pull himself free, drawing a laugh from Rayan. “Earth to Vanté” Rayan teased, drawing a low growl from Vanté’s throat. “Aww, come on, I’m doing you a favour! Don’t give me that.” Vanté scowled, mumbling; “Sure, because I’d consider this a favour.”

“SILVER!” The cry from his throat was raw, loud. It was of fear, of pain, as he pulled Silver away from the wreck of the speeding car that had hit his precious boy. He almost dropped his phone pulling it out of his pocket as he called emergency services. He’d never talked so fast in his life. He’d never breathed so fast in his life. He couldn’t help but feel a hint of relief settle as the ambulance pulled up.

Vanté dragged Rayan’s unconscious body into the back of Foster’s car, heavily slamming the door shut. And Vesker could do nothing but watch, helplessly, as he lost his love. There was no time. He wasn’t fast enough. He’d get them for this. He swore it, at that moment, he would.

Vanté’s heart sank when he got the news that Silver wasn’t going to make it. He felt sick. He knew, one day, that he’d lose Silver, it was a part of immortality. But he didn’t image it would be like this. Never like this. Silver’s cold, dead body, in that hospital bed. He didn’t stop crying on and off for an hour once he got home. And he couldn’t shake those last words from his head. “You’ve gotta live for me, Vanté. Promise me you won’t kill another soul again. Promise me, please.”

Vanté dug the knife into Rayan’s thigh, listening to him scream. He didn’t want this. He never wanted this. But he hated him for what he did to him.. “This is what you get, you bastard.”

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