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po kes head in here.

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picture it; friday afternoon, math class. i was getting tired of the blog i had, and was thinking about making one for tonks, just to have a bit of fun. she’s not too developed (my speciality, i thought, was packing all the development into minor characters) and she’s pretty fun. when i got home about an hour or so later, a thought popped into my head; what if i made someone even more minor? thus, myrtle was willed into existence by my own want to make something of her sad, sad storyline. 

it’s been a year, i thought it’d be a week. her personality has grown a little bit beyond what i’d expected and she’s taken on a life of her own through her interactions with you guys, my followers, my friends and my eternal cupcakes. 

okay, i’m gonna stop crying on all of you and get down to thanking you guys for being here. you’re all a bunch of beautiful, wonderful people and i’m so glad to have met and written with so many. if you’re not on the list below, please don’t think i don’t remember you (although doubtlessly i will forget some bc hey i’m absent-minded) or don’t like you. you’re all amazing. all of you. 

before we get to that, i’d like to just scream a bighuge thank you to the people behind @dear-indies. their efforts make rp a LOT easier, they also reblog cute animal stuff which makes me smile, so yes, thank you!!!!

now, let’s begin.

Keep reading

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goodness gracious !!! i can’t believe my little baby Ver has hit over 150…. honestly it’s the most amount of followers i’ve ever had on any original character blog of mine and i’m so excited that you guys like her and my writingenough to follow me !!! this is a really small list because i’m not following too many people but i wanted to give a shout out to the people who have given me chances and helped me expand and allowed me the privilege of having my baby girl interact with them !!! so sorry if i forgot anyone and this list is in no particular order !!!

@ironhorns / @vigoare / @swiinehearts / @udvs / @deathwaking / @donyokuu / @daelgar / @dehrti / @eunoiaes / @arielshepard / @ancnomes / @svikinnar / @seduceddeath / @fcrtiissimus / @maskfather / @grishildr / @harmoniisk / @fangxbaby / @kinginnuendo / @littleelight / @leonicor / @lyriumless / @vigiilance / @vangvard / @xstrange / @cewyll / @czarowniica / @compassionatelyy / @stultusvulpes / @stjornum / @makerslight /@ofluscinia / @prophetry / @promisestoned / @revasalas / @ryvled / @robotiica / @witandcharm / @whoslaughin / @mortiuum / @nccromancer / @nebularistic / others that i very likely forgot because i’m stupid. but thank you all so much and i hope to interact with every mutual i have because every single one of you is great !!!

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so it’s been about… two weeks or maybe a little more since i remade ganondorf! as most of you know, i started roleplaying him on my original donyokuu blog (now donyokuu-moved) the fifth of april this year. so i’ve been roleplaying ganondorf for about 7, almost 8 months now, and it’s the longest i’ve ever kept a muse! of course, i did take that long, unannounced hiatus from him… but i did have my reasons. i left 800+ followers back on my old blog, but that’s fine, it was time for a fresh start!

either way, i’m so thankful for the people that stuck by me. i’m also thankful for newcomers to my blog that maybe didn’t know about me on my original ganondorf! you’re all appreciated so much more than you realize, and you’re the reason i even bother coming on in the first place. even if you’re not on this list, don’t let it get you down! i’m still making heart eyes @ u.

@veilled ; @grishildr ; @naragukil ; @svedauth ; @lookertickets ; @thechosenxne ; @theagentlooker ; @coderebel ; @lyriumless ; @cosmother ; @materxnatura ; @heroiced ; @fragiliis ; @toshootfirst ; @ofthewheatandtail ; @svikinnar ; @queenxcersei ; @jinxite ; @saidrun ; @cleverindeed ; @gammamade ; @mammaterasu ; @skullstave ; @witandcharm ; @lightpaved ; @shieldarmed ; @caedxs ; @chalceum ; @perpetualshades ; @achromatic-colress + everyone i fukkin follow fight me

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DEMON.

        The instant he plunges into the ominous world, the timer begins. A dreamlike miasma engulfs the perpetual night skies, jade-colored with inky blots swimming around in the distance. Twisted black spires protrude from a shadowy metropolis floating by itself. Disgusted and uncomfortable, he immediately regrets the decision. But what else is there, becoming like one of the unsettling Tranquil? He can see tendrils of black rot growing from the ground and wisp wraiths floating closer at the chance of causing harm to the Apprentice.

        This is not a safe place for a mortal, but for the Circle, it is necessary. He would approach the world with a constant niggling fear, knowing he must overcome a demon of some sort so he may pass his test. As it turns out, the wisp wraiths are easy to take down. However, his true opponent has yet to appear. Demons lie. The First Enchanter always told him to be wary, because their whole game deals with fooling the mages; anything to gain passage into a living body.

             It appears to the young man as a large black cat, a panther. Despite its menacing form, the spirit does not attempt to attack, nor block his path. Harmlessly sitting back on his haunches, he grooms his paws. ‘I’ve been here for centuries,’ he drawls, voice pleasantly smooth. ‘Seen it all. I can show you the best way to defeat one of those demons.’ 

        With careful, practiced patience, the cat guides him. He earns his trust when they encounter and take down the cunning desire demon, and tells him how simple it would be to have his power. ‘All you have to do is take me with you.’ No amount of practice and keeping his wits about him, could prepare him for the following turn of events. Realization hits him too late, when the Fade is left behind and the panther, the demon, sinks his claws into his soul and seizes control.

        Just as the Templar chosen to make the killing blow raises his sword above the apprentice’s chest, he jolts awake, eyes wide, and barely manages to scramble out of the way. “W-Wait-!” He stammers in a fearful yell, climbing to his feet. “I passed my Harrowing, didn’t I?!” Before going in, the young man had deep amber eyes. Now they are sharper, a malicious bright blue. Hands raised in submission, he keeps up the ruse until a sharp dagger of a grin cuts across his face. 

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     the circle’s test was not referred to   as a ‘harrowing’ without reason.      to dive deep into the fade as a show of resilience,  faced with demon      after demon that would try to tempt, to sway, to make one vulnerable      enough to latch onto and possess ---- it is just as nerve-wracking for      those that await the chosen mage’s return from the beyond,  vigilant,      their dominant hand already upon the pommel of their blade.   cullen      has not overseen very many harrowings, and in truth, that gives him      all the more reason to wait anxiously      in the chamber as the mage      underwent his trial. he has not overseen very many harrowings,  and      those that he had been selected to   oversee did not end as poorly as       they could have ---- in other words,   there was no demon to be slain,       no reason to raise his blade to deliver a killing blow.  but it would not      be so simple, this time around.    that much is evident from the start,      as the mage’s (no --- the demon) eyes open,    and he awakes with a      terrified start.

                                                                    ( his eyes are a different color. )

     there’s no reason to waste words;      not with a creature such as this,       who would take any time permitted to live any longer,      and use it to      tear the templar asunder. they were terrible, these things that crawled      out of the fade and into reality through trickery and deceit.    and it was      his duty to strike them down.

     so he does not lower his blade as the young man scrambles to his feet.      rather, he hoists it as though he’s about to strike (maker, keep his hand      steady, keep his hammering heart from bursting out of his chest). when      he speaks (against his better judgement, it should be noted),   his voice      wavers just slightly more than it should.

     " you don’t fool me, DEMON --- it’s too late for that.   you’re going back      --- back to the fade. “

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Holy crow, did you guys get lost? What are all you wonderful people doing here? It’s been 6 months and one hell of a ride. I made this blog back in May in an attempt to try and take a breather from my other account, get my creativity up and going, then hopefully return there. Now, half a year later, I can safely say that Emmailen has firmly established herself as one of my main muses, alongside Naeriel - and probably Telahlin in the future- , and that she is here to stay. The past months have allowed me to meet a lot of wonderful, kind and talented people. It has been a joy to interact with all of you and I am going to use the occasion of hitting this milestone, to make a shoutout for all the people who have made this experience the best ever. ( if you’re not here it means either that I’m a scatterbrained person and forgot you or that we did not interact that much yet. I appreciate all my followers, but the list would have been hella long if I wrote everyone down ).

@forodhathel/ @etheneran, @arcane-wanderer ( thank you so much again for the lovely banner ), @burningarrcws, @gibigianas, @subtcrfuge  @rebelliontales, @magicthrives, @playingherald,  @thesxmmersword/ @crcwnedsacrifice, @vintyvanora, @divineschosen, @unerwunschte, @diplomacies, @steadfcst, @curufinwefeanaro, @trucidat, @uldredmarked, @illustrioxs, @ilinnare, @divinetruth, @path-of-sorrows, @wild-mageling, @justicefxr, @unanchxred, @lyriumless, @vovkism, @templixr, @miinstrel, @apriciitatis, @dalishflame, @solasenbanel, @pvgnator, @bloodylyrium, @mcrtalism, @redeulogy/ @ofsunliight, @elgarlen, @avalvar, @siihas, @daggersandpoison, @sympatheticspirit, @vigiilance, @theeternalsun, @hcrrowing, @cogncscens, @arcusignis, @crowblooded, @unliikelyscholar, @merdedeporc, @ancientrebel, @antivanambassador, @magicbound, @blightedresilience, @prophetry, @hackingforjustice,@aithreachas, @bloodyqueenofferelden, @tharnachad

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The Weight of Living, Pt. I-Bastille

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“ forgive me. i doubt you came here for a lecture. ”

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MARIAN HAWKE.

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She’s relieved to have made it out of Adamant alive. To walk through the Fade, to face down      the Nightmare that had been haunting her through her entire life? It had been… How had      Solas put it? An interesting experience. She had been more than tempted to punch him.      As is now, Hawke is sitting in the War Room, listening to the advisors squabble amongst       themselves and the Inquisitor discuss their next move, having been invited back to Skyhold       for the sake of replenishing supplies and preparing for the journey to Weisshaupt.

Weisshaupt. She wasn’t even involved with the Inquisition, and yet here she was, being ordered        off to the Maker-damned Anderfels in order to fulfill a need for the Inquisitor. There’s a house        outside Denerim waiting for her, with someone in it that she knows is going to be more than        furious with her, and she’s had another delay tacked on. Exiled Wardens aside, she wasn’t        exactly interested in carrying this on any longer than she has to. When the group near the        war table begins to disperse, Hawke looks up, moving to stand as she does. Seems they were        properly finished with her by now– or, at least, she hoped so.

     the war council is dismissed after        what feels to be an eternity of       squabbling, of recounting the events that transpired in both adamant      and the fade,    of attempting at organizing another strike against the      man organizing the chaos they sought to put an end to. it would take      far longer than this to talk something out, and they all knew it --- but      the inquisitor and their companions had a right to a brief respite,   if      that, having faced (quite literally) a living,    breathing nightmare not      terribly long ago. they would be able to think more clearly when they      were not so tired, and so edgy, as a result of the aforementioned. as      they begin to file out of the room --      the inquisitor first, followed by      josephine, leliana, and then cullen -- hawke    (a silent party in all of      the discussion, lucky her) rises from her seat,       likely prepared to       take her leave as well,     though she would be leaving skyhold in its      entirety, unlike the rest.       the anderfels was a ways away from the      fortress, but in good faith      (and in the face of her warden contact’s      death in the fade), she would be heading that way regardless,  so as      to coordinate with what wardens remained.  good faith, and on order.      she had not asked for this, cullen remembers as he watches her ---      she had only offered to aid the inquisitor as far as adamant fortress.      and now ... well,  now she would be tangled in the mess that was the      inquisition for as long as they were in the business of sealing the rift.

     he finds himself hanging back; lingering, but with a slight trepidation      to the action (or, rather, lack thereof). it’s only as she’s about to exit      the room and leave him to his  devices that his lips part to speak ---      to catch her attention, give her pause.

     " --- serah hawke. a moment, if you would. “

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CULLEN, THIS IS YOUR GUARDIAN ANGEL SPEAKING ----- PLEASE STOP MAKING BAD DECISIONS.

  *muffled 'rude' by magic! playing in the distance*

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I remember who I used to be before I became who I had to be to survive.

justoutherepoeting (via raisedbetter)

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STRANGER.

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         they are dying.     stone walls that protect encase the dead and withering ( a golden cage, a safe haven for those that believe they will last through the night ), but these soldiers have undergone and seen horrors. horrors that have taken quite the toll on their minds and bodies. she stands in the middle of it all, cloak hiding lack of HEAD.             prying looks befall her, but she does not skitter away like some creature of the dark. 

     adamant had been trying for all those involved in the inquisition. the      steps of the fortress ran red with the blood of corrupted templars and      of good men;      the death toll had not been so high since corypheus’      attack on haven. scouts and soldiers,      good men and women, had      marched into battle and ever-towards their death, while the wardens      that so desperately clung to the possibility of a blightless future had      stood vigilant, demon-bound,  prepared to die for what they believed      in. for what they believed was right.     so few had marched back into      skyhold, both warden and inquisition-member alike.  even fewer had      come back in decent condition,      instead requiring immediate care,      rapid healing, far more than the healers could provide.

     they were dying, but they would continue to move FORWARD.     for      the prospect of a future, however bleak it seemed now, was far better      than the prospect of none at all.

     the men that were lost would be honored;    he would see to it himself.      for now, however, he approaches one of those that arrived in the wake      of adamant -- a cloaked stranger,      a female that seemed to have no      direct affiliation with the wardens,     and had not uttered so much as a      word to anyone since she had come. he keeps distance between them      (a precautionary measure, if nothing else),   coming just close enough      to address her:

     “ --- you fought at adamant as well, i presume. “ 

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Three weeks have elapsed since I pitched Sharon’s blog, and by some twist of fate, 100+ of you have come along for the ride. The first cut is the deepest, as the saying goes, and the first hundred followers on any given blog are always among the most important from then on. I can hardly express my gratitude (and, somewhat, my surprise) for the warm and enthusiastic welcome given to me and to this very small role by dozens of talented writers and kind new friends. To old followers and new, to tried and true companions and fresh acquaintances, thank you for sharing with me the skill and spirit that have made this blog a joy to run, and Sharon to blossom into something as close to the true definition of a ‘muse’ as I’ve come in a while.  Here’s to the long haul! [ art credit ]

                                        &. * ( VIP LIST )

@dandypire / @tefechi / @heartpossess ; @gvnflame ; @noxerro ; @wakiingdream ; @dominaredio ; @sikigud ; @lyriumless / @vvolfbat ; @eisernejvngfrau ; @faiirbrook ; @hellstrings ; @innxcentiia ; @jao-ensatsu ; @katenkoru ; @lciske ; @pulsusantiquis ; @trepiid ; @thegearmaker ; @wingsland ; @crxftsman ; @stullte

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LEO.

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        it is not uncommon to find him sitting in the commander’s office, back pressed to the wall and fingers stroking the petals of the flowers that make up makeshift bouquets. tied together with string, mostly made up of wildflowers found around skyhold. the few things that can grow in the snow of mountain peaks… he leaves them for the commander sometimes, and he knows that cullen is aware of this after so long.

        but that does not mean he will cease.

        he draws in a deep breath as the door leading out to the ramparts opens, turning a perpetually wide-eyed stare towards the commander as he enters. then he looks back down at the flowers in his hands, which are smeared with mud and dirt from their roots and stems.

        “hello,” leo says, voice light and barely there, “how are you today?”

     to return from a meeting at the war table to find that he was not alone      in his office has become commonplace.   it’s odd, to be sure, but the      commander finds himself growing  more and more accustomed to it      as the days pass.        leo’s presence was not a distraction (quite the      contrary, in fact,    as he was often so silent that cullen forgot he was      with him at all), and it was not unpleasant, besides.        this time, as       with all the rest, flowers are an accompaniment to his presence.   he      had brought the makeshift bouquets under the guise of anonymity all       those instances prior, but this time, he’s got one in-hand.  had cullen      not already reached the conclusion         that it was leo that had been       bringing flowers to his office, this would have tipped him off.

     -- nevertheless, he somehow manages to seem taken aback.

     " i’m --- well, i suppose. a bit surprised to find you here,  if i’m to be      honest ... and bearing “gifts”, at that. ... -- did you pick those? “ 

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hawke: *stands within twenty feet of cullen* cullen: *immediately ages twenty years*

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fifty favourite fictional characters [3/50]

"He is quiet behind the noise. The little bottle makes him shake, but he tests his chains."

—Cullen Rutherford (Dragon Age: Inquisition)

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GARRETT HAWKE.

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     "You’ve done well for yourself.“ Hawke’s slipped into the room,      how or when indeterminable ( though really he’d simply stepped      in through the cracked door while Cullen was too distracted pouring      over one thing or another to notice the quiet intrusion ), and he was      now leaning against the desk. A slackjawed smile quirked at his features      and his typical mischief reflected in his eyes.

     Given everything, looking for wardens, avoiding anyone he didn’t want to      talk to in the fortress ( never found less he wanted to be ) — well, Hawke      had been busy. It seemed only fitting that he stopped by to pay a visit to      his favorite former templar from Kirkwall ( not a very prestigious title, and      certainly not true ).

     "I love the mane, makes you look very important.”

     the comfortable silence having now been broken by a voice he’d not      heard in years (since KIRKWALL,       memories he would prefer to       banish to the far recesses of his mind,      not dredge up, as garrett’s       presence would now demand of him),     he has nearly every right to       be shocked, or so he figures.  he turns his gaze away from the work      that occupies him almost immediately,      and it finds its way to the       man that had made his way across  the ramparts and into the office      of the commander in total silence.      such was the way with rogues,      he supposed;    especially those as skilled in the craft as hawke, the      champion, the man that he’d heard whispers of on the streets of low-      town and hightown alike while he was still a part of the order.     why      he had come to see cullen, of all people, was beyond him. he would      have thought the other would spend most of his time with varric,   or      the inquisitor -- but instead, he’d sought out the man he’d once been      at odds with.      (cullen cannot help but to think there might be some      sort of ulterior motive: to badger him, perhaps, or lay the foundations      for some prank he would later unleash upon the commander,     who      would, in theory, not suspect a thing. maker knew he’d gotten himself      into enough trouble back in the day --- cullen doubts he’s changed, in      that regard.)

     " that wasn’t my intention, but i suppose i’ll make a note of it. "   (the      sarcasm lacing his words, he means;  not so much the “compliment”      that garrett pays him. a pause.)  " ... did you need something of me? i      had been told that you were busy      consulting with the inquisitor and      seeker cassandra about our next course of action. " (in other words, if      he had known the other was strolling along the ramparts,  he might’ve      bolted the door.)