#finally does this

[skxrbrand]

Haven't drawn this weirdo in a while...

Anyway, this is N'qaraxa (who's a muse over at @slaanxsh ). They live on the westmost part of the desert and are a fairly young Keeper of Secrets, which is why they've got less of a snout or other wilder features compared to the older Keepers. Hobbies include turning Khornate daemons bright pink :3c

Eschews the typical pale look of the Slaaneshi in favor of richer, redder (but not red!) colors.

[xaallo]

Holy Hifrandius

Finally redid this lady. Hifrandius is the Margaven that founded House Hifrandius. She is primarily an aquatic margaven, but is capable of and has a predilection for land. This is what leads her to meeting Liikos and her other four mates. She is often depicted as a lean and beautiful exotic dancer, but the real Hifrandius was small and terms like “dancer” and “clasher” have little meaning for semi-aquatic and aquatic margavens. Playing with the idea of her either connecting two oceans or redirecting several rivers by removing and relocating soil, thereby saving several resident cohorts and being deified by them, but I’m still not sure exactly what she did...

Hifrandius’ design was inspired by a variety of sea animals, namely aquatic and semi-aquatic mammals. Like a Seal, Hifrandius is more streamlined and has big, soulless black eyes. She can probably do this.

Has small ears, like an otter or a beaver, as well as webbed digits.

Hifrandius is the source of the Royal families glorious barbels and it’s electrogenic abilities. Xaallo is currently the only margaven who shares her ability to kill foes using volts. 

Her frills are retractable and able to shift colors. This makes them perfect for threat displays and camouflage in deeper water. Like terrestrial does and hifrii, aquatic margavens are also venomous. However, their venom is much more potent and they have a venomous spur on their thumbs they can use for attacks if need be.

Hifrandius herself is a mixture of margaven genealogy. There are two primary types of water margaven: ones who evolved in the ocean and ones who returned to the ocean after living for a time on land, similar to whales. Hifrandius has few oceans, so these margavens are not numerous. Currently, they are extinct and their traits only live on in others. Hifrandius was a mixture of the Seabound and Sea-Returned, explaining her mixture of traits.

Hifrandius met Liikos when she mistook him for a prey item and tried to drown and eat him. True love, ‘n all that.

Her name means “Downpour”.

[denjyumokuu-a-blog]

RULES  :  share four songs / pieces of music that represent your muse. REPOST. DON’T REBLOG.

 “ MURDERS ” - MUSICAL MIRACLE : “ He was in the forest, looking to see the trees / But none were there / He found a girl, she found the Erlking / They were in the white wood / Gamboling out to picnic / In the light leaves broke above / Then fell below. ”

“ SPRING AND A STORM ” - TALLY HALL : “  Would it please you to listen / To thunder instead? / When the rain came down that day / And it drained my soul away / And I wondered / Why I even bothered to try. ”

“ DRUGS ” - EDEN : “ ‘Cos I just feel so tired / Like I need something to come alive / She said you ain’t you when you’re like this / This ain’t you, what you done? / And I said that’s the point. ”

“ THIS IS HOME ” - CAVETOWN : “ Get a load of this monster / He doesn’t know how to communicate / His mind is in a different place / Will everybody please give him a little bit of space? ”

tagged by: @soulsilvcr thanks bitch tagging: @allpacafe @eclipsebrought @decidxeye @souledsilver @telekinetiq @tectorius @lionfanged @divinaemater @gracidaed​ enjoy bitches

[skxrbrand]

20+ Raw Icons for Ku’gath Plaguefather from Warhammer Fantasy. All from canon sources; feel free to use! Like post if you do!

[slaanxsh]

Drake Islands, Ulthuan

His quarry knew him well.

But that was to be expected. After all, they had spent so many eons together in the beginning, when the world was new and untouched by chaos. It was plenty of time to know one another, in the all ways one could be known. Slaanesh had meant to teach them, that God of the World, each and every one, but he had other plans. Other “obligations”. Arrogant. Selfish. Foolish to cast aside the true affection and love the Prince so rarely extended to anyone, even his own children, for something so paltry as his family.

I was the only ‘family’ you ever needed. The only one you should have ever wanted. It had been millenniums ago, yet that wound upon the Prince was still fresh enough to bleed.

It had taken time, much fervent searching, and many tips from his children, but Slaanesh had finally cornered the God of the Seasons. There he sat, on the outermost layer of Ulthuan. Dimly, the God-Prince recognized the mystery once-mortal was with him. The Prince was glad for the location. Should the two gods come to blows, he would hate for the Elves to be wiped out in the midst of it. 

The Sliver of Slaanesh approached and took the shape of the Immaculate Prince. Beside the Seasonal God, the Daemon Prince wilted, buckling beneath the shadow-presence of the Chaos Power. Slaanesh paid him absolutely no heed, each periwinkle eye fixed on his old lover, each one glittering with desire, need, love, anger, rage, and hate. It rolled off of the God of Seasons, like water over a stone. The Prince felt his lips twitch. Yes, this was him to be sure, the powerful and majestic Master of the Seasons.

“ 𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘒𝘺𝘴'𝘴𝘩𝘺𝘪𝘴𝘩.”

He saw the other god tense ever so slightly. No one had called him that in an age and when last he’d heard it, he was dying. Dying to the claws of the one before him, who had sought him out and hunted him down to these remote isle. The Chthonic god swelled himself and stood proud.

“𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝙸𝚜𝚑𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗.”

“𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥, 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦. 𝘕𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵, 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘦. 𝘕𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘴.” With this declaration, the Prince had drawn forward, pincers raised. Ire had ruled him, but he quashed it. Slaanesh had not soon forgotten how disastrously trying to brute force his way had gone for him the last time and, from the way Ishtaran shielded the once-mortal with his body, neither had he.

So Slaanesh put them away. He will them off of his form, though he did not retract his steps.

“𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘔𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬.”

“𝙰 𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚢. 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚍.”

“𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘺. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯, 𝘐 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘐 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦?”

“ 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝙸 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎? 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗? 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚖. 𝙼𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚜 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 '𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚕' 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞.”

Slaanesh frowned at the poison being sent his way. He frowned and he sagged, several emotions battling within him. Surely the pair expected more rage, so imagine their surprise when sorrow came off of the Prince in waves. Imagine their joint shock when Ishtaran’s words were met with tears instead of pincers.

“𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑜𝑤𝑛. 𝑀𝑦 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒. 𝐷𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚, 𝑡𝑜𝑜, 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑁𝑒𝑤 𝑃𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑠?” His words were thick, angry, despairing. The water around them churned and the wind lashed against their skin. From meters away, Slaanesh saw a crack form in the shield the Master of Seasons had put up against his heart. And though his grief was true, so water his nature. A weakness. His to exploit. The Prince wiped his eyes with his hand, placing one hoof in front of the other.

“𝘖𝘩, 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮? 𝘖𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘹 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴, Ï𝘴𝘩𝘯𝘺'𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘩?” He took a step. Then another. He could feel the other god’s resolve quaking. “ 𝘗𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘮 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮. 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘯𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘬𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘱𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵.”

“ 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮?”

Ïshtaran looked unsure. And in the time it took for him to consider all that had been told to him, Slaanesh had closed the distance between them. The Daemon Prince had all but crumpled to the ground, undedicated and therefore unprotected from the sliver-thing was Slaanesh but just the same, only a piece of the god. Again, the Dark Prince ignored him, lavishing the Ante-God’s mane with caresses and transfixing him with the weight of his gaze.

“𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦. 𝘙𝘶𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦. 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯.” The prince whispered, grinning when he felt Ishtaran’s strong arms wind about him. He crooned, and pushed his soft lips against the maw of the Nature God in an exquisite kiss. It was like being seized by a current and just as hard to pull away. Slaanesh’s disappointment was brief and quickly turned into restrained, but gleeful anticipation. Both of them watched, the Dark Prince with wide and hopeful eyes and the still-convulsing Daemon Prince with his watery gaze.

Ïshtaran bowed his great antlered head. He cupped Slaanesh’s lovely, monstrous face in his massive scaled hand.

“𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚗. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝙰𝚕íí𝚕í𝚕í𝚜𝚑.”

The Prince’s wail was one to boil the seas, to whip storms into being, to rend all mortal creature deaf from miles around with the depth of it’s woe. The hunt had failed, the wounds he had punched into the Other God too deep to be forgotten or forgiven. All at once, the Slivers of Slaanesh retreated to the warp, past the rings, reforming at once into the Dark Prince the Realm knew. But he did not rule, nor inquire of the happenings in his absence.

No, the Prince of Pleasure retreated to his chambers, deep within them, and bade no one come.

[heliinx]

❰❰ SAVE ❱❱

@ask-the-greatest-warlord

❰❰ SAVE ❱❱ sender saves receiver’s life

They were in talks again, Heliinx and the leader of Spittail. Like any wise skaven, the Grey Seer wasn’t alone. She was with her guard, a claw of about eighty watchful Albino Stormvermin. At least that’s how she might have described them, had it been one of them to spot the assassin perched on a vantage point behind them and not the Warlord.

For a reason she couldn’t divine, the other Skaven had saved her life. Thrown one of his many weapons straight into the chest of her would-be killer and all the assembled rats watched his corpse tumble and finally fall from where he skulked. Heliinx looked at Screas and then glared at her guard.

“... Heliinx think-think she might need to replace these rats. Perhaps this batch of white-fures is blind. Useless, stupid-meat!” She kicked the nearest Albino Ratmen, even though the attack from the she-rat couldn’t have possibly hurt a skaven so large. Screas would no doubt be lauding this over her later and she curled her lip at him.

“ Good to see-know someone here has working eyes. Clan Reave is in your debt-debt, Warlord.”

Clan Reave...and not her.

[adventhero-blog1]

BOLD the city-related aesthetics that appeal to / apply to your muse. repost, do not reblog. feel free to add !

smoke escaping a dark alley. speckled lights up a skyscraper at night. the business of the morning rush to work. the smell of freshly baked bread and pastries from bakeries in the early morning. the crack of dawn walk of shame. lines of cabs and buses filling the main streets. sunrise breaking over the skyline. neons flashing against brick. lightning bolt cracks in the pavement. sunset streaming through buildings. a theatre district full of tourists and performers. night time rain hitting long glass windows. activity on every street corner. shattered glass littering the concrete. wind tunnels passing through a maze of buildings.

churches nestled within high rises. breakfast on a small balcony. sirens echoing and bouncing off the inner city walls. dirty rivers breaking up the concrete jungle. season changes: burnt orange of autumn trees, light white snow of winter, midday sunshine of summer, blooming flower bushes in spring. crystal canals littered with houseboats. dusk falling and lights flickering on. lightning striking the tops of skyscrapers. vague reflections in the water of fountains. cigarette ashes in the gutter. darkened and empty side streets. lines of people and chatter outside of clubs.  fire escapes trailing down the sides of buildings. high ceilings in industrial studio apartments. rainbow hues reflected in glass. cityscape views from monuments. rain gutters swelling during heavy downpour. a park oasis in the middle of the city. new years fireworks lighting up the night sky. airplane trails littering the sky. polished corner offices. strip club pamphlets strewn across the damp footpath. rooftop gardens. oil pools staining asphalt. sky scrapers protruding thick cloud. helicopter spotlights. litter piles surrounding dumpsters nestled down alleyways. window displays of designer stores. streets lined with thin trees. the contrast of the white paint and asphalt at crossings. street views from the bathroom windows. low lit bars permeating red light.

tagged by:  @silverxskies  tyty tagging:  anybody who’d like to.