figured my shit out. it's actually a dual muse for my silvershields in all their toxic glory!

hello i am putting this blog on hiatus and making victoria an actual main blog of her own <3

me: hiatus time

also me: what if hc-based avatar of selûne and gale--

"munday" aka a progress shot of my unbroken karlach horn for ur viewing pleasure

* do not pray for me, darling. soon enough i will be god.

ease away my grateful skin, and i will rejoice at skin reshaped in silt, and my fragments will swim in the currents of the abyss. fill my eyes and mouth with thick and choking mud, and i will exult in the death of sight, sensation, and noise. bear me away into black depths, and i will forget my pain and the name i once wore.

hello i am putting this blog on hiatus and making victoria an actual main blog of her own <3

man i love u wizards who study the most shadowy ostracised disciplines…

CAUSE SHE'S A CRUEL MISTRESS AND A BARGIN MUST BE MADE.

lowkey? dropping all my drafts, like this for a starter and specify muse or no sauce <3 priority will be given to those i've interacted with little to none!

The first 5 Asks to send 💋 get a kiss

after chatting with sommer i'm making it canon to this blog that hal.sin killed isobel in self-defence, per his cut diary entries.

* asherín silverhand; info.

asherín was house silverhand's delegate to bald.ur's gate's council of four for a century and change, succeeded only by torlin. they laid the groundwork for the cult of bhaal to go largely ignored by city leadership; restrictions regarding arcane research loosened under their stewardship, citing the necessary price of progress. prior to the nautiloid, they had not had a single thought of their own for over two-hundred years.

victoria began to layer her most insidious enchantments on their wedding night; those least invasive began the very day they met. asherín, the somewhat problematic heir of their house, up-and-coming artificer with an intense distaste for politics and a drive to do their family proud in their own individual way, became... someone else. they developed a sudden, profound interest in the workings of government; they became softer-spoken, kinder, more broadly palatable. they began to lose time. strangely, it worried them none - victoria said it was alright, and so it was. even when everything else had grown alien, their love for her grounded them. it was her ambition that ruined her, in the end: she included asherín in the first batch of tadpoles, angling for even more total, airtight control. by luck or by gond, the astral prism shielded them not only from the elder brain's influence, but from their wife's as well - and they have every intention of taking full advantage of their newfound freedom.

you recall, in a distant, wistful way, a time before such advances of industry: as your vehicle drinks greedily of the poisonous, tar-like oil, poised to choke the crisp evening air with its fumes, you can think of little else. you spent so much of your time wandering the earth, then - everything is so instant, now, and so transactional. it is only by the grace of kagha's ability to budget that you have the copper to fill the tank at all, so anxious are you made by the process entire. is it like this that the stranger finds you: brow furrowed in consternation, thumbing over the daisy tucked behind your ear in silent, transitive prayer. there is almost a relief in how quickly you look up, swiftly giving way to concern as you take in the whole of the picture before you.

" oakfather preserve me, " you breathe, unable to swallow the full breadth of your shock. " yes, of course. come - where are you headed? "

@ch0sene // halsin // modern fantasy

If it wasn't for the pain and hunger, Haarlep would have thought they were in a novel. Coat wrapped tightly around them, hiding their naked body underneath and long enough to just be considered decent in public. Their throat was parched, their stomach starting to ache from being empty for so long, and their skin was itchy, craving intimate touches and sweet orgasms. Toes curled against the hard pavement. Without shoes, their feet had quickly become dirty and were covered in bleeding cuts and blisters.

Eyes scanned the gas station pumps, looking for unattended, unlocked vehicles. What they found, however, was a burly wood elf pumping gas into a truck. A quick step back around the corner, a flash of flames, and their form changed into a young, female wood elf. Brown hair, large green eyes, a splatter of freckles across the nose, wide hips, and short stature; all things chosen specifically to appease him. Their clothing, or lack there of, remained the same.

"Excuse me?" Their voice was small, nervous, shaking. "I'm - I'm sorry to bother you. Is there any way you can give me a ride?"

when i redo lilith shes gonna be soooo liv tyler…

god. i literally... my brainrot is sudden and Severe. the way g.ale constructs this idea of a self around superficial qualities, he writes poetry, he likes wine, he loves his cat tressym - he's so artificial, and that's partly Being A Wizard but also very much so the fact that he doesn't know how to be his own person, he hasn't had to think about it, he's been my.stra's chosen:tm: since he was seventeen, that was literally the only thing about him that mattered and now that he doesn't have that he has to cobble something together, drowning in insecurity, needing to look to these people who don't know of his folly like someone worth knowing...

Dame also got that golden retriever energy, she's so proud of her girl.