asharinhun

[asharinhun]

commission for @scham-wcan!

whiterose/cinwin outing after a grimm hunt

[asharinhun]

Send 💿 for my muse to choose a song that matches your muse's vibe. - for Asharin

"You have this...particular sound to me. Something mystical but grounded. Playful, and also majestic. The new and old coming together. Something that doesn't really need words. I hope you like the sound."

{ @asharinhun <3 }

[asharinhun]

[asharinhun]

Daily Writing Challenge (May 2025)

Day 5 / May 29

Restless / Faith

@daily-writing-challenge  

The late night wound on through Stormsong, and Roselyn still sat at an overly cluttered desk with a restless abandon only the drunk or creatively tormented could really have. At least Rose thought that sudden urge to create must be a sort of torment. A very sensible person would have found sleep so many hours ago. She had her moments and her wit here or there, but she certainly was no sage or paragon of good habits. Art was sometimes pure compulsion. 

It wasn't as if she weren't comfortable. She did mean to sleep. Her little cottage was warm and cozy, she'd made a bit of evening tea with honey to relax with, and the fireflies hung prettily in the air outside her window, crickets harmonizing somehow just enough to lull her to a restful sleep. Even her large wicker bed and its very soft mattress seemed to wait, her swirl of throws and pillows particularly inviting a nestling right among them. She'd bought some particularly rib-sticking meat pies from an eatery all the way out in Stormwind for dinner, the Gilnean kind that were made with the sort of home made magic that used to put her in a pleasant coma when she was very young. 

But no, she was a mad woman at her desk now at 3 bells in the morning, trying to find some meaningful completion before she could dare rest. Life wasn't always filled with these little compulsions, of course. Her mind had mostly agreed with the tiredness that set in after her days as a lay sister some years ago, trading laborious work for efficient shelter in another Cathedral after Gilneas fell apart. And she'd waken each day before dawn as she was trained to for “faithful” tasks she felt no more personal devotion to than a dog felt for the collar it was forced to wear. 

Even working as a scout and sometimes cartographer for Empyrean Imports now was more duty and necessity than devoted compulsion. She was thankful for the opportunities Lady Shadowsun had given her, but Rose didn't want more to do with it than her current 3 day schedule allowed for, despite the many offers to become an official courier. It was only the promise of some stable pay; it was never her passion, mapmaking or scouting both. It all made her tired at the end of her day and certainly paid for her little cottage, but none of it completed her. 

No, completion was the finishing of lines of a collection of dumbfounded giant skippers this night, actually, something that drew out beats of laughter from her as it all came together. She'd lost her faith and sleep for many things throughout her life, but Rose knew she would somehow find room for both again once she figured out what swathe of color to use to highlight their silly, googly eyes and fishy tendrils.

[asharinhun]

Art Commissions: Open

Finances are growing tight and the job search has been frustratingly unsuccessful, so I'm opening and looking to concentrate on doing some art commission work!

I have plenty of slots open on Ko-Fi:

Headshot Sketches: $30 Monochrome / $50 Color

Detailed Bust Color Portraits: Starting at $70

Color, Half Body Piece: Starting at $120

Full Body Illustration: Starting at $180

+ ETA on all art is at least 2 weeks, though this can be extended depending on the detail of the request and the status of my que. I will keep a client updated through the art process.

These commissions can be signed up for on my Ko-Fi page.

Other Commission types are listed on my Commission Info Card and I may be open to some of the bigger requests, but details and completion times will have to be worked out. Please Message me on Ko-Fi or by Email at handhour@gmail.com if interested.

[asharinhun]

May DWC 2025 Day 3 - Linger/Gaze

The lone figure slowly made her way towards the edge of the cliffside, without a care for the downpour. Her vantage point provided a perfect view of the ruins of Dalaran... Well, what was left of it after magi and looters alike had already cleared out every nook and canny.

The observer knew this as fact, for she had already inspected them closely more than once during her brief stay on the Isle of Dorn. Yet here she was once again, maybe for the last time, and not because of the storm.

If anything, the weather seemed to please her, were anyone close enough to witness the cant of the pair of elven ears sticking out from the hood. Ears that stayed still as the raindrops didn't quite make direct contact. Barely visible runes shimmered at the hem of her cloak, the enchantment woven into the cloth keeping the garment and the elf wearing it dry even under these circumstances.

Uncle Eoloran would scoff and admonish her for such frivolous use of the gift of arcane she was blessed with. "That's just the thing, Uncle. You're not here..." The voice was bitter and resigned, lacking the playful warmth of the past. Of a time when Sharyssa would go home to her little apartment in the floating city, or visit her uncle to discuss any recently published theory on arcane magic. Her place, her life she had carved out after finally leaving Suramar, being freed from a legacy she'd never wanted, gone. Crashed into the ground below, with almsot every possession she held dear. Even her prosthetic arm, left at her home in pieces, waiting for an upgrade that would never happen now.

Her uncle? Likely gone as well, but she couldn't even be sure. Eoloran Soursea was old, once a magister in the Court of Azshara herself when she was still the queen of the kaldorei, and his mastery over the arcane arts was something Sharyssa could only dream of, and hope she could match one day. She shook her head lightly with a scoff and sighed. That spark of ambition lingered on, but the nightborne would have gladly traded it in exchange for news on her uncle's fate. He survived many a conflict locked away in magical stasis, and there were plenty of odd gadgets and relics in his possession whose purpose Sharyssa had no idea about.

To be completely honest, she wasn't a hundred percent sure he was even in the city when the catastrophe had happened. That thought gave her hope and suffering in equal measure, though surely after all this time he would have contacted her or the family of his grandchildren at Hyjal if he was fine... Right? Sharyssa hated these doubts. They brought her no closer to the truth, but lingered on in the back of her mind, unrelenting. She sighed again.

The arcane glow of her eye flared up briefly, matched by the reddish pulse of the ruby in her right socket before she finally tore her gaze away. A gesture with her only hand, and she vanished from sight. @daily-writing-challenge

[asharinhun]

May DWC 2025 Day 4 - Dangerous

(Warning: minor injuries, bruising, broken bones, foul language)

Arlyn let out a relieved sigh when the top of the stairs was finally within reach... only to almost fall back with a yelp. Luckily, both her and the woman she was supporting had a firm grip on the handrail.

"Damn it, Arlyn, I've even warned you!" Sam's voice was full of exasperation, leaning down while balancing on her good leg with her lover's help to pick up the thigh-high boot she was forced to drop earlier to prevent the mishap.

"Sorry, sorry." The singer replied sheepishly, scratching the back of her neck once they were safely at the front door. She couldn't even be bothered to move her hair out of her face.

With her instincts all but screaming that her girlfriend wouldn't take kindly to fooling around with the lock at the moment, Arlyn handed over the keys without a fuss. She also shifted her weight to support more of the worgen's.

"Tides, what a night." She sighed, stretching a bit once they were inside and her partner removed her arm around her shoulder.

"You can say that again." Sam huffed, unable to hide her exhaustion.

Getting back here all the from the Flask & Rum in their present state was quite taxing, after all.

Now that she was free to hop along the confines of the apartment and use the walls and furniture as handholds, Sam kissed her lover's cheek as thanks for the help so far.

The worgen made her way to the nearby couch to get rid of her remaining boot, her sigh of relief swiftly turning into a pained hiss as she propped her injured leg up on the furniture.

"Just stay there and unwind a bit, I'll grab the crutches and the first aid satchel. Be back in a moment!" The singer commented while removing her own footwear. She didn't even wait for an answer as she padded barefoot towards their bedroom, her fingers tracing along the wall. "Oi, can do that myself, you should sit down!" Sam retorted, grunting as she tried to stand. "Just... gimme a minute." "It's not my leg that got wrecked, love. Besides, it's no trouble at all! I have kept this place in the same organized chaos for years, I could get around and find everything even with my eyes closed!" Arlyn retorted cheekily, almost raising an eyebrow at the worgen's unsuccessful attempt to get up, but stopped herself at the last moment.

Still, the growl she received made her regret the witty remark instantly.

"Sorry, just... you're just as hurt as me, no need to pretend you're fine. Could understand why you did it back in the tavern, but it's just us here." Sam couldn't help but sigh at Arlyn's doleful pout, accepting her defeat and leaned back into the couch.

"I... yeah, you are right, sorry as well. It will really only take a moment though, then you can take care of me as well, okay?" The singer nodded, a hand subconsciously tracing her split lip at the reminder and winced at the pain. Still, she hummed out a happier note at the approving grunt.

True to her word, she made a quick work of the supply run, but not without getting stuck in the doorframe once as she accidentally held one of the crutches in the wrong angle, blocking her passage. "Hey, it's not funny!" Arlyn huffed, arms crossed after she handed over her quarry to her girlfriend and was pulled down next to her by a pair of strong arms.

"Sorry, sorry, you're right. " Sam rolled her eye playfully though, since she could get away with it right now.

"You are forgiven." The singer gave in after a brief silence, resting her head on her partner's shoulder.

"Don't get too comfortable, love, am patching you up first. All you need to do is filling the cold compresses with your ice magic and lay down your head in my lap."

"But-!"

"No 'but's, my knee can survive a few minutes longer without a splint. Besides... am aware you hate healers, but gotta find one after we wake up so I can walk again as soon as possible. Daresay you could use one too, but won't force it."

"I'm actually glad you'll get fixed up, hopefully I won't have to hear you cry out in pain like that again anytime soon... As for me, I'll think about it." Arlyn exhaled before replying, but did as she was asked.

She finally moving her hair out of her face once she was enjoying the lap pillow, revealing a pair of completely swollen shut eyes. She was essentially blind since an hour or two ago, and would remain so until the swelling went down enough so she could open at least one eye in a few days.

Thus, the difficulty of getting home from the tavern was actually worse than any onlooker would think.

The question 'how bad do I look' was on her lips, but her lover's stifled gasp was all the answer she needed. Well, shit.

The way Sam's fingers caressed her cheeks with utmost care almost made Arlyn tear up, but the sudden cold spreading over her busted eyes forced out a curse instead. "Fishguts! You should have warned me!" She grumbled, but got used to the sensation quite quickly. A perk of being a frost mage also attuned to the Tides, apparently.

"And you should've been more careful! I know you faced enemies far more deadly than a drunked bastard and his group, but there was seriously no need to take that mailed fist in the face for me! Could've dodged it even with a fucked up leg..." The worgen's free hand twitched, wishing she would've mauled the perpetrators instead of merely knocking most of them out, but hindsight was a bitch as always.

"I couldn't just stand and let them insult and beat you after you stopped the asshile from trying to grab me! And the cowardly way one of his pals smashed your knee with his weapon after you've spent the big guy down his ass with just a punch... I just couldn't stand and do nothing, and since freezing the place or summoning Tymest would have wrecked the tavern, that didn't leave me with a lot of options!" The singer retorted, adjusting one of the compresses so it covered more of the massive bump keeping her left eye sealed. At least the right one didn't feel that bad, a small mercy.

"That doesn't mean you have to get your face pummeled for my sake! Am worried enough when you come back after the usual brawls, but this wasn't like that and you know it! And seeing you like this, gods... am tempted to find the fuckers and tear them to pieces the moment I can walk!" Sam growled, but it was an empty threat and they both knew it.

"I can only imagine how I look, but I'll be fine soon enough. So don't feel down or think you have failed to protect me, or some similar bullshit, okay?" Arlyn relented after realizing there could be no winner in the argument, reaching up and cupped her partner's cheek after she finally found it.

Thankfully, she could feel the tension draining out of her lover at the touch. Feeling encouraged, she gathered the compresses before sitting up and claiming Sam's lips for a quick kiss -a small reward, and a promise of more later-, before returning to her earlier position in her lap and continued to nurse her peepers.

"Also, thanks for pretending I could still see so Gramps allowed us to come back home without too much fuss. I seriously thought he would grab the pistol he keeps stashed under the barpult and start shooting. His opinion matches yours regarding my fun at the brawls on the lower floor, but his voice was downright terrifying when he showed up. Maybe it's better I couldn't see shit by then, because I'm sure he was livid."

"Wouldn't have worked without hiding your face with your hair, to be fair... But yeah, by Goldrinn, I thought he would have my hide alongside the bastards' when he noticed you were on the ground. The crack when he whacked the guy with the butt of the gun... it didn't come from the weapon." The worgen shuddered a little at the memory. "Am pretty sure I've dodged the figurative bullet there only by a hair's breadth."

"No, he knows how important you are to me, he wouldn't risk it. You are family, so if anything, I think he was mad that someone dared to hurt both of his daughters." The singer offered with a smile, a pity she couldn't see the expression on Sam's face.

"Hah... maybe." was all the reply she had received, but the emotions in those two words were clear as day.

Neither of them was bothered by the silence that settled into the room afterwards, content to just be and feel the closeness of the other.

Arlyn continued to rub Sam's cheek while the worgen was busy taking care of her injured leg, but would occasionally lean down to place a kiss on the singer's forehead in turn.

"Come on, let's go to bed. We both need the sleep." Arlyn finally offered after she was sure Sam's leg was patched up as well as possible for now, and got to her feet before helping her lover to stand as well.

"Just one last thing. Let me wrap your eyes, am sure you don't to repeat the experience of trying to rub them open the moment you wake up, right?" The worgen added, and did her best to be as gentle as possible while using the gauze once she got permission.

"You'll never let me live that down, right?" Arlyn groaned halfheartedly and reached out to pull Sam in for another kiss.

@daily-writing-challenge

[asharinhun]

May DWC 2025 Day 4 - Dangerous

(Warning: minor injuries, bruising, broken bones, foul language)

Arlyn let out a relieved sigh when the top of the stairs was finally within reach... only to almost fall back with a yelp. Luckily, both her and the woman she was supporting had a firm grip on the handrail.

"Damn it, Arlyn, I've even warned you!" Sam's voice was full of exasperation, leaning down while balancing on her good leg with her lover's help to pick up the thigh-high boot she was forced to drop earlier to prevent the mishap.

"Sorry, sorry." The singer replied sheepishly, scratching the back of her neck once they were safely at the front door. She couldn't even be bothered to move her hair out of her face.

With her instincts all but screaming that her girlfriend wouldn't take kindly to fooling around with the lock at the moment, Arlyn handed over the keys without a fuss. She also shifted her weight to support more of the worgen's.

"Tides, what a night." She sighed, stretching a bit once they were inside and her partner removed her arm around her shoulder.

"You can say that again." Sam huffed, unable to hide her exhaustion.

Getting back here all the from the Flask & Rum in their present state was quite taxing, after all.

Now that she was free to hop along the confines of the apartment and use the walls and furniture as handholds, Sam kissed her lover's cheek as thanks for the help so far.

The worgen made her way to the nearby couch to get rid of her remaining boot, her sigh of relief swiftly turning into a pained hiss as she propped her injured leg up on the furniture.

"Just stay there and unwind a bit, I'll grab the crutches and the first aid satchel. Be back in a moment!" The singer commented while removing her own footwear. She didn't even wait for an answer as she padded barefoot towards their bedroom, her fingers tracing along the wall. "Oi, can do that myself, you should sit down!" Sam retorted, grunting as she tried to stand. "Just... gimme a minute." "It's not my leg that got wrecked, love. Besides, it's no trouble at all! I have kept this place in the same organized chaos for years, I could get around and find everything even with my eyes closed!" Arlyn retorted cheekily, almost raising an eyebrow at the worgen's unsuccessful attempt to get up, but stopped herself at the last moment.

Still, the growl she received made her regret the witty remark instantly.

"Sorry, just... you're just as hurt as me, no need to pretend you're fine. Could understand why you did it back in the tavern, but it's just us here." Sam couldn't help but sigh at Arlyn's doleful pout, accepting her defeat and leaned back into the couch.

"I... yeah, you are right, sorry as well. It will really only take a moment though, then you can take care of me as well, okay?" The singer nodded, a hand subconsciously tracing her split lip at the reminder and winced at the pain. Still, she hummed out a happier note at the approving grunt.

True to her word, she made a quick work of the supply run, but not without getting stuck in the doorframe once as she accidentally held one of the crutches in the wrong angle, blocking her passage. "Hey, it's not funny!" Arlyn huffed, arms crossed after she handed over her quarry to her girlfriend and was pulled down next to her by a pair of strong arms.

"Sorry, sorry, you're right. " Sam rolled her eye playfully though, since she could get away with it right now.

"You are forgiven." The singer gave in after a brief silence, resting her head on her partner's shoulder.

"Don't get too comfortable, love, am patching you up first. All you need to do is filling the cold compresses with your ice magic and lay down your head in my lap."

"But-!"

"No 'but's, my knee can survive a few minutes longer without a splint. Besides... am aware you hate healers, but gotta find one after we wake up so I can walk again as soon as possible. Daresay you could use one too, but won't force it."

"I'm actually glad you'll get fixed up, hopefully I won't have to hear you cry out in pain like that again anytime soon... As for me, I'll think about it." Arlyn exhaled before replying, but did as she was asked.

She finally moving her hair out of her face once she was enjoying the lap pillow, revealing a pair of completely swollen shut eyes. She was essentially blind since an hour or two ago, and would remain so until the swelling went down enough so she could open at least one eye in a few days.

Thus, the difficulty of getting home from the tavern was actually worse than any onlooker would think.

The question 'how bad do I look' was on her lips, but her lover's stifled gasp was all the answer she needed. Well, shit.

The way Sam's fingers caressed her cheeks with utmost care almost made Arlyn tear up, but the sudden cold spreading over her busted eyes forced out a curse instead. "Fishguts! You should have warned me!" She grumbled, but got used to the sensation quite quickly. A perk of being a frost mage also attuned to the Tides, apparently.

"And you should've been more careful! I know you faced enemies far more deadly than a drunked bastard and his group, but there was seriously no need to take that mailed fist in the face for me! Could've dodged it even with a fucked up leg..." The worgen's free hand twitched, wishing she would've mauled the perpetrators instead of merely knocking most of them out, but hindsight was a bitch as always.

"I couldn't just stand and let them insult and beat you after you stopped the asshile from trying to grab me! And the cowardly way one of his pals smashed your knee with his weapon after you've spent the big guy down his ass with just a punch... I just couldn't stand and do nothing, and since freezing the place or summoning Tymest would have wrecked the tavern, that didn't leave me with a lot of options!" The singer retorted, adjusting one of the compresses so it covered more of the massive bump keeping her left eye sealed. At least the right one didn't feel that bad, a small mercy.

"That doesn't mean you have to get your face pummeled for my sake! Am worried enough when you come back after the usual brawls, but this wasn't like that and you know it! And seeing you like this, gods... am tempted to find the fuckers and tear them to pieces the moment I can walk!" Sam growled, but it was an empty threat and they both knew it.

"I can only imagine how I look, but I'll be fine soon enough. So don't feel down or think you have failed to protect me, or some similar bullshit, okay?" Arlyn relented after realizing there could be no winner in the argument, reaching up and cupped her partner's cheek after she finally found it.

Thankfully, she could feel the tension draining out of her lover at the touch. Feeling encouraged, she gathered the compresses before sitting up and claiming Sam's lips for a quick kiss -a small reward, and a promise of more later-, before returning to her earlier position in her lap and continued to nurse her peepers.

"Also, thanks for pretending I could still see so Gramps allowed us to come back home without too much fuss. I seriously thought he would grab the pistol he keeps stashed under the barpult and start shooting. His opinion matches yours regarding my fun at the brawls on the lower floor, but his voice was downright terrifying when he showed up. Maybe it's better I couldn't see shit by then, because I'm sure he was livid."

"Wouldn't have worked without hiding your face with your hair, to be fair... But yeah, by Goldrinn, I thought he would have my hide alongside the bastards' when he noticed you were on the ground. The crack when he whacked the guy with the butt of the gun... it didn't come from the weapon." The worgen shuddered a little at the memory. "Am pretty sure I've dodged the figurative bullet there only by a hair's breadth."

"No, he knows how important you are to me, he wouldn't risk it. You are family, so if anything, I think he was mad that someone dared to hurt both of his daughters." The singer offered with a smile, a pity she couldn't see the expression on Sam's face.

"Hah... maybe." was all the reply she had received, but the emotions in those two words were clear as day.

Neither of them was bothered by the silence that settled into the room afterwards, content to just be and feel the closeness of the other.

Arlyn continued to rub Sam's cheek while the worgen was busy taking care of her injured leg, but would occasionally lean down to place a kiss on the singer's forehead in turn.

"Come on, let's go to bed. We both need the sleep." Arlyn finally offered after she was sure Sam's leg was patched up as well as possible for now, and got to her feet before helping her lover to stand as well.

"Just one last thing. Let me wrap your eyes, am sure you don't to repeat the experience of trying to rub them open the moment you wake up, right?" The worgen added, and did her best to be as gentle as possible while using the gauze once she got permission.

"You'll never let me live that down, right?" Arlyn groaned halfheartedly and reached out to pull Sam in for another kiss.

@daily-writing-challenge

[asharinhun]

May DWC 2025 Day 3 - Linger/Gaze

The lone figure slowly made her way towards the edge of the cliffside, without a care for the downpour. Her vantage point provided a perfect view of the ruins of Dalaran... Well, what was left of it after magi and looters alike had already cleared out every nook and canny.

The observer knew this as fact, for she had already inspected them closely more than once during her brief stay on the Isle of Dorn. Yet here she was once again, maybe for the last time, and not because of the storm.

If anything, the weather seemed to please her, were anyone close enough to witness the cant of the pair of elven ears sticking out from the hood. Ears that stayed still as the raindrops didn't quite make direct contact. Barely visible runes shimmered at the hem of her cloak, the enchantment woven into the cloth keeping the garment and the elf wearing it dry even under these circumstances.

Uncle Eoloran would scoff and admonish her for such frivolous use of the gift of arcane she was blessed with. "That's just the thing, Uncle. You're not here..." The voice was bitter and resigned, lacking the playful warmth of the past. Of a time when Sharyssa would go home to her little apartment in the floating city, or visit her uncle to discuss any recently published theory on arcane magic. Her place, her life she had carved out after finally leaving Suramar, being freed from a legacy she'd never wanted, gone. Crashed into the ground below, with almsot every possession she held dear. Even her prosthetic arm, left at her home in pieces, waiting for an upgrade that would never happen now.

Her uncle? Likely gone as well, but she couldn't even be sure. Eoloran Soursea was old, once a magister in the Court of Azshara herself when she was still the queen of the kaldorei, and his mastery over the arcane arts was something Sharyssa could only dream of, and hope she could match one day. She shook her head lightly with a scoff and sighed. That spark of ambition lingered on, but the nightborne would have gladly traded it in exchange for news on her uncle's fate. He survived many a conflict locked away in magical stasis, and there were plenty of odd gadgets and relics in his possession whose purpose Sharyssa had no idea about.

To be completely honest, she wasn't a hundred percent sure he was even in the city when the catastrophe had happened. That thought gave her hope and suffering in equal measure, though surely after all this time he would have contacted her or the family of his grandchildren at Hyjal if he was fine... Right? Sharyssa hated these doubts. They brought her no closer to the truth, but lingered on in the back of her mind, unrelenting. She sighed again.

The arcane glow of her eye flared up briefly, matched by the reddish pulse of the ruby in her right socket before she finally tore her gaze away. A gesture with her only hand, and she vanished from sight. @daily-writing-challenge

[asharinhun]

Top 10 friends :P (for Saf)

Ask me my "TOP 5/TOP 10" anything!

'Friend'. It is a word a Courier could say so easily, but it rarely held the weight she thought it should. She slowly let the word slough from her regular vernacular, refrained from its use in the office, on delivery, in public spaces where her face became forgettable next to her role, where she was little more than a wine connoisseur, or self made woman, or at worse, solely identified by the Void. She had many acquaintances, and that was suitable. Not everyone had to be a confidant.

Acquaintances were safer. A friend earned that pedestal...and gradually the unexpected idiosyncrasies that came with it. And her demon's interest.

(In no particular order, beneath the line for length)

Leon Ambroce, or "Fizzy Chef", as she affectionately has come to call him. A man that is too easy to speak to and confide with, by who's heart she thinks strains its ribcage. He makes her feel welcome, cared for, loved even. His voice makes her smile. ( Three demons are dangerously curious, and their desires are profane, manipulative and destructive, as the Sayaad tend to be. ) @mremaknu

The cherished Lady Naralinthe, Lioness of Silvermoon. A splendid soul that saved her from certain death, a voice of confidance and compassion that stretches past the aggravation of political lines. Safrona let's the professional veneer drift away so easily in her company; the lady has always known how to divest her from it. (The incubus senses the Golden Goddess' temptations, wonders at how she prefers her worshippers, and how to bring her to her knees. The Wrathguard and Shivarra desire to provoke her fierceness in battle, and to shatter her like a chandelier.) @themadamelioness

The unexpected Archdruid who hired a Courier and earned the trust of a friend, who had put himself in the line of harm for her, who welcomes her at the table of his family. An endless friendly taunt of a caretaker, she is quietly thankful for his care. To a degree, his cousin Sharyssa is very interesting, and an avenue of connection to talk in magic she feels more capable in. ( Various demons are 'scholarly' curious on the Archdruid's worth, cut down to pieces. A vial of potent blood, the rarity of his amber eyes. Pushed into demonic evolution, perhaps quite the powerful Satyr? For the little Arcanist, Elernia desired at one time some vengeance for the brutality, but the Elder Sayaadi has larger fish to fry. ) @asharinhun

A predator garbed in gentlemanly manner is what Safrona took Lord Daevara to be for some years since taking him on as a client. But in very recent times he has proven a similarity through Confession, and perhaps beyond this, a start to the carefully cultivated threads of understanding, and friendship. (The demons are riled by the predatious interest in the mistress, by the miasma of dark magic the Lord of Bats seems to choose to exist by. Their hungry interest is held at bay for by the Warlock, save for one rebellious Elder Sayaad that knows truths that he is not told. She bides her time, watching, listening, waiting for a bat to see the shimmer in reality that marks her hoofprints, and give chase.) @duraxxor

The Soulsinger, the First of the Perished. Her closest confidant, her dearest love. Her anchor to sanity, and yet a maddeningly sweet obsession. He shares her soul, her very heart, and she aches to make him feel alive again in his state of in-betweens. (Most of her demonic menagerie are intimidated by the depth of their bond and Orchid's ties to a force that can undo them. They are wise to not interfere. Except for the Elder Sayaad. She despises him for what he 'stole' for himself in her mistress, hates that his death-cursed mind cannot be manipulated, desires revenge. But Elernia is patient as she is conniving, and the permanence of death is too sweet for the likes of him.) @thefirstperished

The Nethermancer, a confidant on the Dark Path, a cunning menace too some, a brilliant mind to others. He has been both to her through the years, years that have culminated in the nature of trust, and friendship. A courier bears pride for the dependence he places on her, and she suspects few know as many secrets as he does of her, and keeps them to himself. ( She disallows her demons to mingle with his own, as much as they would enjoy that connection to gossip and scheming. Elernia remembers him as clearly as the day her fractured mistress' memories attempt to hold him...she exalts in the small set of eyes she has taken from him, beneath his nose. What would such an infamous head cost on the black market...? To his enemies? ) @nixalegos

Madam Goya, the Black Market mistress that set her on her path as a Courier, mentored her and gave her the opportunity to remake herself from ruin. A Courier will always be indebted to her, and in secret spaces still exchanges information and trade with her, over tea. Goya knows enough of her story, and gives her respect for what she has survived, and made her own. ( A demon or two finds the Madam's savvy very amusing, Goya indulges their curiosity and natures more than most mortals would, despite Safrona's deterrence. )

A Knight of some memory, one of a symbolic heroic complex, one that had trusted her and respected her profession. A name that she had not at once thought to count her as more than an acquaintance, and name she has failed in his trust in her. A soul she does not yet know how to name because all she hears is the cold, dark bite of the voice that puppets his flesh. ( Her demons tell her to let it be, let it go, to surrender the Voidwalker it has lactched to just to torment her, but she will not let that chance of a reaching soul to be cut from her. He has the lighthouse of her attention, he only needs to swim to her shores and banish the darkness...but even she knows she cannot swim out to reach out and pull him to safety, lest she is taken beneath the wave of the Entity's influence too. @allasticus }

The Mercenary, or 'Tattoo' as she came to know him. From the first day he found a dutiful Courier in Silvermoon, Revarik Velanthius was a force to be reckoned with in wit and charm. He did not so much crack through her professional mask as steal it away and tease her with it with a game of constant keep-away through her life. The day he tracked her down to save her from the torment by an underground kingpin was the day a friendship was fully forged in stone. And just a little bit of chaos. She knows, even in his retreat to the quiet life, he is her 'ride or die'. (Perhaps the only confidant all of her demons tend to be amused or entertained by, Rev's antics always kept them on their toes. He never sought to back down from a challenge when presented...suffice it to say her demons never went without a duel, if indulged. The profane suggestions Elernia offered were never allowed to be voiced, for very specific reasons, but there were a few times the succubus glamoured herself to tempt a fire Safrona was always trying to put out. ) @revarik

Madam Gampre, a woman of self-styled success in the oldest profession; she easily has the Courier's respect and admiration. She is charmed to be included in a deeper scheme to rid the Madam of enemies that would try to take her success and those she protects from her - a worthy Harvest. The Tigress reminds her of life before success found Safrona as a Courier, where having a woman of such unapologetic savvy and ruthlessness would have benefitted the whole of Booty Bay and those victimized by the criminal underground. (Some of her desire demons have been eager to ply their trade in the bordello, but Safrona forbids their interest, however easy it would be to slip in among the crowd.) @susan-gampre

[asharinhun]

DAILY WRITING CHALLENGE 2025 IS BACK!

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO USE THE ACTUAL WORD FOR THIS CHALLENGE, YOU MAY SIMPLY BASE YOUR STORY AROUND ONE OF THESE IDEAS!

Choose one or both words/ideas and write a story, drabble, poem, or anything else once a day, every day, for a week!

Tag @daily-writing-challenge so we can reblog your stories.

Write the number day/challenge somewhere on your story.

LIST CONTENT WARNINGS VISIBLY ABOVE STORY! (Use a ‘read more’ line if content gets too graphic.)

Tags that will be used: #maydwc2025,  #maydayX2025 (X=whatever number day you’re writing for), #yourtumblrurl

There will be no optional challenges for the weekly DWC’s, but please feel free to make up some of your own challenges!

The next writing challenge will be in AUGUST 2025 and last one week!

CLICK HERE FOR OTHER IMPORTANT INFORMATION!

Good luck and more importantly, HAVE FUN! Encourage your fellow writers and show them some love and support with likes/reblogs/comments!

We look forward to reading some amazing writing!

((Written word list below the cut))

Day 1 - May 25 Cruel, Beauty

Day 2 - May 26 Placate, Graceful Day 3 - May 27 Linger, Gaze

Day 4 - May 28 Dangerous, Tremendous Day 5 - May 29 Restless, Faith Day 6 - May 30 Negative, Relic Day 7 - May 31 Punish, Infinite

[asharinhun]

queen ♥

[asharinhun]

[asharinhun]

// Since someone was missing Arlyn, I might as well post the art I got of her since :D

This one is from Rebcebab :D

And this cute lil' chibi is from Capricious :D

(Both were giveaway prizes)

[asharinhun]

Is Arlyn still dancing and getting into trouble? I miss her!

"Who said anything about getting into trouble, hm?" A voice asked from behind, revealing the woman in question. Arlyn's visible eye narrowed slightly at the accusation, but her chuckle was a clear sign she wasn't offended.

"If you meant the singing, of course I do! A lady needs to earn her keep, right~? Especially if I want to surprise my girlfriend with a trinket or two once in a while." She added with a huff as she sauntered closer, taking a generous sip from the keg in her hand.

"I can do a little dance when a song calls for it, but I rend to take it a bit easier since my last injury. these legs need to be in top form for a different performance." Arlyn grinned like a cat that got the canary.

"As for trouble..." The singer pulled her away from the left side of her face, revealing a massive bruise over her eye which was swollen totally shut. " Just got this bad boy last night. Saves me the trouble at winking at my girl, heh." She pushed her brown locks behind her ear, leaving her busted eye in full view, but it was a common sight by now.

"Well, you know how tavern brawls are. If one is already in progress and I'm done with my performance for the night, of course I'll join in if I'm not already 'winking'. Especially now that I can count on Sam to pull me out before I get out of hand."

"Now come on, the night is young and the drinks wait for no one. My suggestion is a good Anchor Drop, you won't regret it I'm sure." Arlyn winked -or blinked-, before emptying her own keg.

//Thanks, anon! ^^ Yep, she's alive and kicking :D

[asharinhun]

Hi all! Would anyone be interested in a commission or several? I'm wide open and about to finish two in my queue and need to extra funds pretty badly. Would love to draw for you. I do have a $20 flash sale still going on too for certain portraits btw!