Current M!A: Werewolf, 3 days {Accepting}
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"What? There’s no applause?"

(hi-res) What can I say? Drawing Dorian Pavus in skimpy outfits gives me life ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


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Put ‘Get Fluffy’ in my inbox, and I’ll randomly generate a number-


Your muse will get, from mine,

  1. A flower crown
  2. A lullaby
  3. A kiss on the nose
  4. A tiny animal
  5. A piggyback ride
  6. To see my muse’s favorite secret place
  7. A tickle attack
  8. A favorite story
  9. A pillow fort
  10. Our muses both in cute matching outfits!


This blog will be accepting trick or treaters for the entire weekend of Halloween!



{Halloween just so happens to fall on a Friday this year, which leaves all of Saturday and Sunday free, so why not extend the celebration?

This blog will accept any trick or treaters from Friday- Sunday (Oct 31 - Nov 2nd)}

Send me a ♂ and a question and my muse’s father will answer it.


PLEASE buy the babs up there in the picture. They are all relatively cheap, spare for the smoke one. If you plan to buy and then exalt, please give them some sort of name! ;v; 


:// No Longer on the Road || Closed



Skyhold is quiet. Dorian relishes in the calm. If he has learned anything, it is to soak in the victories and moments of respite when the chances present themselves, because none of them know what the next day, or even the next hour, will bring. Days like these he spends alternating between challenging Cullen to wits at chess and listening to Varric’s elaborately spun tales of Andraste’s supposed rainbow knickers. When she’s in a good mood, Vivienne and he will titter among themselves at how Cassandra or Cole can improve their fashion. He finds himself quite charmed at how easily he fits in here, with the Mihtriel and the melting pot of heroes she has assembled.

Calloused knuckles are rapped softly across the center of a wooden beam along the wall, Dorian’s eyes sliding to Mihtriel’s hunched figure and the way she cradles her wounded hands. He hasn’t seen her since yesterday—merely gotten word from Cole that she had returned. One thing about Dorian and the rest of the Inquisition… they knew when to give her space. She seemed like the type that preferred hours of solitude when she needed to think.

                  ❝ Inquisitor,
                     It’s good to see you in one piece.❞


Mihtriel would have never guessed that they all knew her so well already. She never meant to simply up and leave, but with the numerous years spent as a ranger and a traveling mage— The need for solitude was necessary. When she wasn’t working on things that needed her attention, the Dalish severely needed time to herself (or at least with another person.) But at least she was right in hearing that someone was approaching, and a very familiar one at that.

  She stands, coughing into a hand before both are folded behind her back.

Professionalism, right? That’s what was expected of her, she thinks to herself. Though with Dorian, Mihtriel can’t help but assume that the other mage knows her a little better than the others. He was the first she met, after all. Blinking, her shoulders relax slightly. 

"It’s good to be in one piece as well." She responds, a small smile taking over her features. "How have you been—? We haven’t spoken for a while."

Anonymous asked:
Prompt because I'm too nervous to come off anonymous but maybe monster!pan dealing with the asylum? Pretty vague I know but do with it what you want.

After the change, she’d lost most of her more human characteristics. Only part of her personality remained. But for the most part, whatever was lost was replaced with more animalistic behavior. The strange, predatory splice that she was scared essentially everyone away. It was a horrific combination that was almost prehistoric to view. But overall she was still extremely curious. In dealing with whoever was left and whoever was there, Pan would approach them. A small amount of caution but mostly intrigue.

    In her head, all of the small chirps, clicks, and other various noises were friendly.

Even that strange waddle scene when crocodiles walk didn’t help when the monstrosity walked after you. All in all, Pan was fairly friendly and just overall curious in the search to learn more vocalizations and words to speak or mimic. 

Though her appearance attuned to loneliness, and lots of it. The creature, deep down, craved something that was missing. She had no true concept of it, but it was a sinking feeling that caused her head to hang more often than it was raised. Colder nights were spent further inside the rooms, slumped up against the wall when she felt no need to hunt. Pan would make an effort to interact but of course— It’d always result in chasing until the target escaped. 

   One of those such situations was upsetting.

She ends up letting out a few rumbles and snorts, deciding soon after to trudge off and try to find a more comfortable spot to sleep in. Pan just wants a companion- someone or something that won’t run when she tries to at least make a friendly greeting.