seekers of the dead

anonymous asked:

Hello! If I wish to do traditional witchcraft, can I work with the deceased?

I think maybe anon was hunting for the word they wanted. I am going to take this to mean ancestors and spirits of the dead. And the answer is yes, traditional witchcraft as a general rule does interact with spirits of the dead.

Most often seekers begin with either a solemn visit to the graveyard where they begin tending a grave before eventually opening up to communications. Some even seek initiation by sleeping on a grave. (Be aware of your local laws and take care in choosing an appropriate grave).

Or even more popular a method is to create an ancestor altar of photos and artifacts of your relatives and culture. Adopted seekers may choose to begin with their adopted family’s line, since they are bonded to that line by contract and love if not by blood. Another option to do instead or in concert with the above is a witch ancestor altar with images of witches and cunningfolk of the past you wish to connect with.

If you meant another kind of deceased let me know.


“I hesitated.”

anonymous asked:

Like what if harrys parents cought them kissing or something(They could have timed travel to the future or something). Or Sirius and Remus does. And only their friends know they're together. So its like this big surprise. Or the Malfoys come to complain about their son currupting draco. And harrys parents had no idea he was dating( or even liked boys).

I have no idea how this scenario would come to play but this made me laugh with the idea of an AU of some sorts where the Malfoys show up at the Potter’s house, because Lucius is convinced that “that Potter boy” is corrupting Draco.  Lets just pretend this is some fantasy AU where the Potter’s lived and Harry, unafraid of himself and being rejected, was sorted into Slytherin

  • Because every single one of Draco’s letter’s home to his mother are Potter this and Potter that
  • and Narcissa just places a hand on his arm to calm him down “They’ve been inseparable since second year, dear”
  • “Yes well that’s the problem, they’re in trouble every week and I know its that Potter boy’s fault!  Draco would never think to sneak out in the middle of the night to play Seekers games, and he would never be caught dead sneaking into the kitchens for a picnic on the astronomy tower its positively plebian!”
  • “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Malfoy, its” James starts
  • “It’s the Potter boys fault” Lucius nearly screeches.  And Narcissa tries to tell him to calm down which, duh makes him do the opposite.  “My son is lovesick, its the only excuse for this nonsensical behavior.”
  • “Whatever they’re doing, I can guarantee its your son’s fault and…what the hell do you mean lovesick?” and this time its James who screeches, wondering why Lily doesn’t look shocked.
  • And this time Lucius smiles because he might be mad but oh boy does he love getting one over on James Potter.  “Why my goodness, Potter, don’t tell your son hasnt told you.  I suppose he’s not as close to you as our Draco is to us.”
  • “Tell me what?  Lily what is this bloody idiot on about?”
  • “James, I think you know.” She says, making him bristle.  “He never told me anything!”  and she just sighs.  “He didn’t tell me either, dear…he didn’t need to.”
  • “He says he’s in love!  A malfoy does not fall in love with a Potter.  Draco will find a proper pureblood wife, produce an heir and-”
  • Who said anything about love?” James all but yells.
  • “Draco has asked for the family ring!” Lucius finally shouts “He says he wants to marry that boy!”  and this time its Lily and Narcissa who looked shocked. 

…..and thats how they all found out it was definitely more that just a little fling.

anonymous asked:

please do a AU of drarry, where they make a bet, the loser tending to the winners every whim.

Harry supposed that he had gotten in way over his head. He supposed that just like Hermione had once said, his arrogance would cost him dearly.

Usually Harry entered situations like this without a plan, and managed to made it out with reasonable success. However he had his friends to help him, and this was a situation he had to face alone.

So he had gotten a bit ahead of himself. As per usual, when Malfoy was involved, Harry had bitten off more than he could chew.  

Three weeks ago, when Malfoy had cornered him in a hallway with a mischievous glint in his eye, wearing his sleeves rolled up in a way that should be illegal, Harry was prepared for a challenge. Something about the curve of Malfoys smirk made Harry feel even more reckless than usual.

He made a propestion that Harry couldn’t refuse. He cast his silvery eyes downwards, casual as you like, and cooly tossed out “Hello Potter, care for a bet? Unless you feel a bit…scared?”

Harry could never back down. Malfoy layed it out for him, and harry listened, trying his best not to lean into him. Whoever collected the snitch in the next Slytherin and Gryffindor quidditch match would be the winner, the loser would have to tend to the winners whims for the entire day.  

Harry knew he was obsessive, the bet he had accepted consumed his thoughts and expelled all others. The torturous things he could do to Malfoy filled his thoughts every minute of the day, and made him smile oddly until someone told him to knock it off.  

He couldn’t fathom losing. He knew that he was faster and stronger than Malfoy, and always collected the snitched whenever they were up against each other. He was counting on his quick reflexes. One thing he was not, however, was smarter than Malfoy, and than was eventually his downfall.

The first half of the game dragged along as Harry watched Draco’s muscles dance as he kept balance. Harry nearly fell off his broom when Malfoy caught his eye and gave him a dazzling smile, not nasty or smarmy, but mischievous and playful. Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek to avoid smiling back and looking like an idiot.

They hit the halfway mark, and the snitch was released and Slytherin’s whole game changed like a boggart shifting form. They were playing harder, faster, and meaner than ever before. The ball was nearly never in their possession however. Harry searched wildly for the familiar glint of gold flashing through the sky, however it grew difficult when his view was obscured by slytherins.  

He watched Draco’s sleek form dip towards the ground, and Harry blindly followed, assuming he had caught sight of the snitch. He pushed himself forward, hardly noticing as Draco pulled up and away. He couldn’t see the snitch anywhere nearby, and frowned, before glancing up.  

Draco was on the other side of the field, darting and swerving through his team members, who where dead focused on their seeker. Harry tried to move forward, but too was mesmerised by the image of Draco’s sleek form gracefully gliding through the air at break neck speed.

He felt his heart drop as Draco nearly clipped his side on one of the stands and then dissapeared with a loud thud. Gryffindor were scoring goal after goal with so many of the Slytherin team stationary.

Draco suddenly burst out behind a stand with a huge grin on his face, blood gushing from his nose, and the golden snitch firmly in his fist.

Slytherin’s stands burst into the loudest cheering Harry had ever heard. His heart was pounding, as reality sunk in. For the first time since he had started playing quidditch, Draco had caught the snitch.  

He watched as Draco’s teammates flocked towards him, lifting his up, despite his bleeding face. Harry soon realized that they were all in on it. The way Slytherin had blocked his view, the way Draco had tricked him by pretending to spot the snitch, the way they had slyly gone about winning despite the huge risk of losing. Harry was shocked, and quite possibly not nearly as angry as he should be.

Draco had smiled at him, and it was still handsome through all the blood. His smile was hungry, and his eyes were bright with adrenaline and passion.  

Harry could feel his breath leave his body. He had been well and truly played and the worst part was, he was enjoying it.  


“Why if it isn’t Harry ‘loser’ Potter, here do attend to my every need.”

Harry cringed. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but the flush of humiliation that ran across his face was not it. Draco was sitting at his breakfast table, smugly staring at Harry along with all his friends. Across the hall, Ron looked fit to burst.

“Just tell me what you want me to do Draco.” Harry gritted out.  

“Oh, isn’t he the most obedient servant?” Draco snickered. His friends laughed along with him, looking knowingly between Harry and Draco.

“I have a very busy day, Potter, so we better get a move on.” Draco grinned at him. Was Harry imagining it, or did Draco just rake his eyes down his body? He could feel a slight blush dance across his cheeks, and Draco must have noticed because his gaze turned predatory.  

He stood up, and for the briefest second got close into Harry’s space. Harry swallowed, not realizing that Draco was trying to move past him. He quickly moved feeling like an idiot. Draco had a small smile on his lips that Harry followed dumbly out of the great hall.  

“You can start by cleaning my dorm, and then we will move on to you writing my transfiguration essay..”


Every muscle of Harry’s body ached. He couldn’t believe that he had spent his day off cleaning Draco’s already impeccable bedroom, adjusting things to his finicky tastes, and following his tiring demands, all the while, Draco perched delicately on his bed and flicked lazily through a book.  

“Okay that’s it, I’m done Draco. I can’t take anymore of this.” Harry turned and prepared to leave. Draco sat up quickly, and captured Harry’s hand as quickly as he had caught the snitch.  

“Wait, Potter I have… I have one more request.”

Harry turned and sighed exasperatedly. He shifted once he saw how nervous Draco suddenly looked.  

“What is it?” Harry focused in on the way Draco’s eyes flittered away from his own. The way his hand was still gripping Harry’s own, long fingers clinging onto his wrist.

“I want… I want for you to…” He cleared his throat and stood up straight, mustering courage. “I want for you to kiss me, Potter.”

Harry felt his brain go blank. Kiss him? Draco wanted to be kissed? He felt like everything he had known up until this point was blasted into smithereens.  

“Wait… what?” Harry heard an incredulous giggle tumble from his lips, and instantly regretted it when he Saw Draco flinch away.

“My last request… was for you to kiss me. We made a bet Potter. Don’t be a sore loser.” Harry could hear the venom creeping back into his voice, disguising Draco’s embarrassment.  

“I’m just surprised. Don’t you…hate me?” Harry’s voice went quiet. He had barely noticed that he had stepped into Draco’s space.  

“I don’t hate you all that much. I have good days and bad days.” Draco looked up, eyes steely but hesitant. Vulnerable.

Harry laughed again, and Draco turned to move away. Harry was quick to flick his wrist around and grab him, and lean in before he lost his nerve.

Draco stiffened in surprise, as Harry pressed his mouth against his, kissing him boldly. Draco suddenly came to life, twisting his fingers in Harry’s robes and hair, pulling him closer. His mouth was hot and fast, a somehow graceful mess. Draco was quick to use his tongue and teeth, biting Harry’s lip until he moaned. Harry tried to hold onto any part of Draco that he could reach, holding his hips before they could dance away from him again.  

“Holy…Holy shit.” Harry gasped. Draco moved onto his neck, biting hard enough to leave a temporary mark. Harry gasped again, and felt a shiver run through his body as heard Draco suck in a bit of air, and let out a tiny moan, muffled into the side of Harry’s neck.

They stood together, breathing hard. Absentmindedly, Harry ran his hand down Draco’s spine. He was at loss of how to process what happened.

Draco slowly pulled away, regaining his composure before Harry did. Draco fixed up his tie and shirt, and carefully brushed his fringe back into place, making Harry want to mess it up again. He wasn’t entirely sure how he should feel about the situation, but he knew that Draco’s mouth was swollen and red, and knowing it was him that did that, made him feel somewhat proud.  

Draco smirked, pulling on Harry’s collar to hide the marks there.  

“Sorry potter. I have a thing for necks.”

“It’s fine.” Harry blurted. “I like it.”

“I could tell.” Draco said slyly, sitting back down onto his bed. Harry wanted to crawl ontop of him, cage him in and kiss him again and again.

“You’ve got a bit of a wild look in your eye Potter.”

“Well, that’s your fault. You put it there.”

“How poetic” Draco laughed, before his own eyes sparked with a sudden mischief.  

“Hey Potter, what do you say to a little bet?”


Dear sisters and brothers, dear seekers of the ultimate Truth, I wish to give a talk on spirituality. As we all know, spirituality is a vast subject, and here, in an hour, I can never do justice to it. But let me at least make a beginning.

In spirituality we come to learn of two significant terms: ‘meditation’ and 'dedicated service.’ All of us here are fully aware of these two terms. Some of you may use the terms 'knowledge’ and 'work.’ Knowledge is the result of meditation. When we dive deep within, we see, we feel and we grow into the highest Knowledge. Work, when it is done in a divine spirit and for a divine purpose, is dedicated service. The combination of meditation and dedicated service makes a man perfect.

In this world, many are of the opinion that spirituality cannot offer a balanced life, but I wish to say that they are badly mistaken. It is spirituality alone that can offer us a real life, a balanced life, a practical life. Who is practical? He who knows the truth and who knows how to apply the truth in his daily life. A spiritual person is he who tries to know the truth today, to discover the truth tomorrow and to apply the truth the following day in all his multifarious activities. A spiritual person is someone who goes to the very root of the Truth, for he knows that if there is no root there cannot be any tree. And the root of the Truth is love. A spiritual person meditates not for his own sake alone; he meditates for all and sundry. He meditates for his dear ones, and he meditates for every human being on earth. His is a life of love and dedication.

Each individual has his own way of reaching the ultimate Truth. One may find it easier to reach the Truth through dedicated service, by loving God in each human being, by seeing and feeling the divinity in humanity. Another may want to dive deep within and first reach the Source, and then work on the earth-plane. Both are doing the right thing. But the person who does not aspire and does not want to aspire in any way — who is useless in society — is either a fool or a dead soul.

Each seeker should feel that it is his bounden duty to realise the Highest. But each seeker must know that God-realisation, the realisation of the ultimate Truth, need not and cannot be the sole monopoly of any one individual. Everyone is destined to reach the Highest. But there is a way that leads a seeker to his destination quite fast, and that is the way of the heart. If we empty the heart and welcome the eternal Guest, our eternal Beloved, He comes in and fulfils His own transcendental Reality in our day-to-day existence. The other way, the way of the mind, is lengthier and more difficult. But if we can silence the mind, then Peace, Light, Bliss and Power in infinite measure can enter into us also.

We are all seekers. In our inner life, our spiritual life, we have already travelled millions of miles. Although we may at times fall victims to our animal qualities and indulge in quarrelling, fighting and other negative and destructive actions, still we no longer cherish or appreciate the animal in us. We know that what we actually want from our lives is Peace, Light and Bliss. The animal in us has played its role, and now the human in us is playing its role. We are cherishing the hope that today’s human qualities will be transcended and transformed into divine Reality. When we meditate, we feel that this is no longer a hope, but a certainty. When we meditate deeply, profoundly, in the very depths of our heart, we feel that there is no such thing as impossibility. As we have transcended the animal kingdom, so also must we transcend our human weaknesses, imperfections, limitations and bondage.

In the Western world, meditation is not as common as prayer, but I wish to say that prayer and meditation are like two most intimate brothers. If we pray soulfully, we can get what meditation offers us. When we pray, we feel that something from within, from our very depths, from the inmost recesses of our heart, is climbing high, higher, highest. And we feel that somebody is there to listen to our prayer, or somebody is there to receive us at the pinnacle of our aspiration’s height. When we meditate soulfully, devotedly, in pindrop silence, we feel that a divine Guest is descending into our heart to guide us, to illumine us, to perfect us and to fulfil His own transcendental Reality within us. We feel that the Infinite is entering into the finite for their mutual fulfilment.

In this world there is a need for peace. This peace comes only from within, and we can bring it to the fore only through meditation. If we can meditate soulfully for ten minutes every day, we will energise our entire being with Peace. Peace houses light, bliss, fulfilment and satisfaction. We can have Peace not by possessing the world or leading the world, but by becoming a lover of the world.

Now when we become a lover of the world, we may commit a most deplorable mistake: we may expect something from the world in return for our love. We are ready to accept the limitations and imperfections of the world as our very own. But if in spite of our best efforts, our best intentions, our deepest love and compassion for the world, the world does not listen to us or does not offer us enough gratitude, at that time we make an inner demand on the world. At the beginning of our service, we demand everything from the world in return for our offering, our life of sacrifice. If we give something, we expect the same amount in return, if not more. Then there comes a time when we give as much as we have, we give to the utmost of our capacity, and we expect in return only an infinitesimal measure of what we have given. But even if we expect just an infinitesimal quantity of appreciation from the world, I wish to say that we are bound to be unhappy; we are bound to be wanting in peace. Let us give to the world unconditionally what we have and what we are: Love. The message of love we get only from our daily prayer and meditation. We know that love means oneness, inseparable oneness. And in oneness there is no expectation, no demand.

There are two ways to love. One way is to go first to the human love and then reach upward to the ultimate Love, the divine Love. The other way is to reach the divine Love first and then enter into and transform the human love. The divine Love always inspires us, guides us and moulds us into something immortal, which we can offer to humanity. The human love frustrates us, disappoints us, and finally constrains us to try to enter into the kingdom of divine Love.

We have to love life and also love truth. Truth and life can never be separated. When we try to separate truth and life we cannot make any progress. In our human love, frustration may loom large. But in the divine life, love is constantly building us and shaping us into the very image of God.

We have spoken about peace and love. If someone asks us to speak about peace, we will be able to speak most eloquently. But speech does not help us to establish the kingdom of peace on earth. It is our silent prayer and soulful meditation that can give us the peace of mind which our little world, our own personal world, badly needs, just as the entire outer world needs it. To begin at the beginning with ourselves is the only way we can eventually bring peace to the world. If I do not have peace myself, how can I offer peace to others? Impossible!

We have a body, which we regard as the only reality. When we satisfy the need of the body for earthly food, for nourishment, we feel that we have fulfilled our task. But in our inner life also we have someone to feed every day, and that is our soul, the divine being within us, the conscious representative of God on earth. Although we feed our body every day, somehow we fail to feed this divine child within us. Since we never do the first thing first, we remain unsatisfied here on earth. First we must go deep within, and then — from within — we must go without. The inner life must constantly embrace, guide and inspire the outer life. The outer life is eventually liberated by the inner life, which already has liberation in fullest measure.

The inner life and the outer life can and must run abreast. The inner life will constantly receive messages from above, messages of Infinity, Eternity and Immortality. Infinity, Eternity and Immortality are not vague terms. When one becomes an advanced seeker, he sees and feels infinite Peace, Light and Bliss within himself. One need not be a God-realised soul to have this experience. All of us have Peace, Light and Bliss in infinite measure in the very depths of our aspiring spiritual heart.

But right now the door of our heart is locked by ignorance. We have to open the door and dive deep within to go beyond ignorance to where our own Peace, Light and Truth reside.

We are God’s children, His chosen instruments. God abides within us as a constant Dream, and we live in God as His only reality. He lives in us as a Dream that will ultimately be transformed into reality; and we live in Him as a reality that will grow into His ever-ascending, ever-blossoming Dream. We are all seekers, and we are all in a boat. Our journey can never come to an end, for God, the eternal Pilot, is our Pilot, and we are in His Boat. He is the Boatman, He Himself is the Boat and He is the Golden Shore of the Beyond.

- Sri Chinmoy, Fifty Freedom-Boats to one Golden Shore, part 2

basementfestival-archive-deacti  asked:

#6 - illusion - Cass/Varric

immortalised : cassaric

She drops the book on his desk with enough force to rattle the inkwell perched precariously by his hand, spilling droplets across the blank paper he’s laid out, but he isn’t given the chance to protest before she announces, in an even voice that promises nothing good for him in the near future,

“If she is dead I will eviscerate you.”

His sigh is long-suffering, a tad overdramatic, and desperately fond. “Seeker, if she’s dead – if, mind you, you know I don’t like spoilers – it’s because I thought it was necessary to the story.”

“I need to know.”

“And you will. You’ll just have to wait, like the rest of Thedas.”

She huffs. “I am your wife.”

“And that gets you privileges with the dwarf, not the writer.” He grins. “Now’s not when you tell me you only married me for my writing, is it? You’ll break my heart.”

She leans across the desk. “I will break more than that if you kill her.”

“Love was just an illusion, apparently,” Varric sighs. “To hide your true motives. Which is too bad for you, because I’m not telling. Can’t have word getting out before the next book does, the cliffhanger would be useless. And I spent six chapters building up to the damn thing.”

“I will not tell a soul,” she promises, with such an earnest expression, he’s almost tempted.

But, “I’ve seen your poker face, Cass. If anyone asked, you wouldn’t be able to keep it to yourself.” He points the tip of his quill at her. Not a real threat – they haven’t done that dance in years.

She actually looks offended. “I would!” Then, her expression softening, “Please?”

Varric considers her, the veins of silver in her dark hair, and the lines of her expressive face, etched deep with age. The city sprawling beyond the high windows at her back, and the years, written stories in the space between them, read in the easy way she leans against his desk, as though she’s never belonged anywhere else. He likes to pretend he could actually kill off her favourite character, if he decided to. And once he might have, knowing the effect those decisions have on sales. Public outrage is a bestselling feature, any good writer knows that. But now, seeing her eyes alight whenever she opens a new book, delighted even after a decade, even after two, when most of his regulars have long since stopped caring, he couldn’t have made himself do it if his entire business depended on it.

“You know me,” he tells her then, and he isn’t teasing now. “Couldn’t kill her if I wanted to.” Then he smiles, in an attempt to lighten the mood. Old age has made him strangely maudlin, and prone to introspection. “She reminds me too much of you.”

Cassandra snorts. “You are far too old for flattery, Varric Tethras.” But she comes around the edge of the desk to where he sits, a slight limp in her step – a bad wound that never healed well, but she was always too stubborn to accept it. A kiss pressed against his brow, rare and dear and fiercely private. “Thank you,” she says against his ear, before she turns to leave his office, the book tucked beneath her arm and a smile at the corner of her mouth.

Varric watches her go, twirling the quill between stiff fingers. Strong women have shaped his life, he’s never pretended otherwise. But for better or for worse, he carries their memories with him – their laughter, their loss. The latter is the heaviest, and the pile is growing higher, every year. Sometimes he wonders if he writes to remember them; that they’ll live on in his books, long after they are gone.

He’s never been one for prayer, but if he’s ever prayed for anything, it’s that his wife will outlive him. He’s kept many souls alive with pen and paper, but hers has never belonged to him.

And he doubts all the ink in the world could keep her, if he were to try.

The effect of fatherhood on females is to make them male – dependent, passive, domestic, animalistic, insecure, approval and security seekers, cowardly, humble, `respectful’ of authorities and men, closed, not fully responsive, half-dead, trivial, dull, conventional, flattened-out and thoroughly contemptible. Daddy’s Girl, always tense and fearful, uncool, unanalytical, lacking objectivity, appraises Daddy, and thereafter, other men, against a background of fear (`respect’) and is not only unable to see the empty shell behind the facade, but accepts the male definition of himself as superior, as a female, and of herself, as inferior, as a male, which, thanks to Daddy, she really is.

- S.C.U.M. Manifesto (Society for Cutting Up Men) by Valerie Solanas 1967

“I’m currently wondering if Varric described Hawke’s duel with the Arishok in details… Like how the heroic and handsome mage kept running in circles in a small room with the Arishok on his tail like the goddamn reaper.” - @taichichuwhat

“And then?” Cassandra prompts.

Varric holds up a hand. “I’m not done. It was a long battle.”

“Long and… unusual.”

Varric nods. “So, as I was saying, Hawke was running. He dodged left, then left again, because there was no space to dodge in any other direction. The Arishok swung his great blade; Hawke kept running. While the Arishok was off balance Hawke released a freezing spell, and a lightning spell, and then—”

“Let me guess,” Cassandra says dryly. “He ran.”

“How did you know? So anyway, he was running again, and the Arishok was even closer now, and sweat poured down Hawke’s face, but he didn’t stop! He kept on running—”

“Tell the story from when Hawke stops running, please,” Cassandra interrupts. “We do not have all year.”

“Are you sure?”

“Quite sure.”

“All right, Seeker. Your wish is my command. Hawke stopped running. The Arishok lay dead on the ground—”

Cassandra let her head drop into her hands.

anonymous asked:

Cassandra/Varric prompt: they somehow get handcuff (tied?) together for a period of time. Hilarity, bickering and awkwardness. Bonus: other members of the Inquisition find it hilarious and don't try very hard to unstick/untie the two.

If there was anything Cassandra hated, it was blood magic. 

Though to be perfectly fair, Cassandra hated a lot of things: Politics; Liars; Thieves; Unjust actions; Cruel leaders; Cruel people; Getting food stuck under her nails; Touching something wet and not knowing why it was wet; The sound of people chewing. The list went on and on, and was rivaled only by the list of things she loved. Cassandra was not a person who committed herself to things in halves.

Blood magic, however, was one of those things that just stayed at the top of her list. Now, however, she was considering reevaluating and place it under Venatori.

“We’re going to ask you one more time,” the tevinter mage ordered, glaring at the bound duo. “What is the Inquisition planning?”

Cassandra didn’t have a moment to respond. Varric was already there. “We’ve already told you,” he groaned, reclining in his chair as if they weren’t being (poorly) interrogated. “We’re not part of the Inquisition. We’re minstrels.”

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Friends and faves are bolded!!


abbygailiglooo // actualhawke // adamfactories // ahditore // ailistairtheirin // ajayghalaid // ajayghapaid // anderfxls // anders-apostate // angelknives // anipavus // arcadiiabay // arkvenor // atlas–senpai // autisticgaige // ava // aveline-de // beeplasmid // belovedgames // billiethewhaler // biosshock // bioshckk // bioteroweist  // bioware-babe // birdorcages // blackvwall // blessed-by-etro // bobbryar // book-er // boysofsilences // brighteyesnicole // brownsera // buffalo-bilbo // burialatsky // buymevideogames // caejozie // captainpissoff // captainzappy // cassandrapentagast // catlingun // cccrystalclear // celestialenv0y // charlesmiltonporters // ciorianpavus // clemluke // cole-the-spirit // colememe // commander-cullen // commxndercullen // comstocks // corvoattanopng // corvou // cowboybebutt // croftstock // cstamalot // cullenrutherford // cullenscrotch // curldemon // dawnofthewolf // ddelsin // dearcorvo // definitiveedition // delsinroews // dewitt-anna // dondor // dong-lord // dontkickpj // dovahcaine // doriansideboob // drnoore // drnoorenajjar 


eilizabethcomstock // elcorr // elgarnan // elicomstock // elisedelaserre // elizabethdewitt // elizabooze // ellliewillliams // ellzabethcomstocks // eme-mac-tir // erravir // eveleotardin // eventhroughthedarkestofdays // ewizaboof // fadedforher // famousmouse // fcnris // fennny // fenris-trash // fetch-walker // finkton // flordewitt // fontaiiine // frankyfontaine // fuck-it-joel-needs-a-car // fuckyeahlastofus // gaaretthawke // gamerdrome // garretthawke // garrusfakarian // geraltsbooty // germgerm // ghosteh // gigawattz // grantairecynique // grunkfordstanford // haawke // hclark70 // hell-yeah-hawke // henakawa // honkinghalla // hoytvolkerr // i-am-the-lordofthebears // irlrohan // isabeaudargyll // itsicecreamsaturday // ivilspirits // ixfantasy // jackkwynand // jantelaw // josephohda // justicarrsamara // kaldwins // kasumlgoto // kazuhlra // king-kagayama // knife-eared-inquisitor-tats // koruken // l-le-doesnt-row // ladym0rrigan // laracroftofficial // lavellanofthedales // lavellenn // lemurprince // letsdewitt // letsgetonwithit // lightaga // lightgetsout // lizzystrides // lockuhart // lookinyoungandpreservedforever​ // luchtschild // luttecess


maarianhawke // makkochi // malleus-maleficarum // mandachann // martinfinnegan // martroid // memesama // mercymare // milesupshur // minazukiruka // mindbodyroooh // miraforrester // mirindalawson // mister-house // miyku // mr-dahmer-aguilera // murderouscrows // naked–snake // natesdonutshop // nevarranseeker // neverdewitt // nevrra // nicework-boyo // no-puppy-eyes // nottoogeeky // nykoload // oceandalliance // omniscientelizabeth // onewhospinssamsara // orieades // orlesianbastard // p0etrywh0re // pentaghast-senpai // prince-of-rapture // problemd0g // protaglovesfood // quakebeats // quantumlevitation // queerapostate // queertalizorah // rapturezoo // rapturish // ratonhnhaketun // rayd-teamtina // redlyriumveins // restti // reveck // robluteces // rosepetrosie // s-n-a-c-k-l-e-s // seattle138 // seehimfly // seeker-pentaghasts // sharkbottom // sheeeeeeeeeepard // shorsstone // singin-in-the-dead-of-night // sircullywully // skeletonteaparties // skyholdlion // solidusly // songbirdplush // sonic-sez // spidersplicers // splicerspawn // spoopcrow // starryasari // stateofutobitha // stillupsetoverlegacy // supasaiyanswagg // super-owl // thatdispenserisaspy // the-pirate-queen-isabela // theknifeofdunwall // thelastrapture // thespacegoat // theporcelainpinup // thisgamergirl // thomrainier // toto-dyle // transboyfenris // troybakerz // vashoths // vekusen // vhhenan // violetlibido // volsungs // voxpopulli // vrronicasawyer // wallymack // whathasnolife // whattheshift // whitherarcadia // wolfrax // wolfybigby // wouldyoukindlynot // zadornovs // zevrahn // zombieknickers

I’m so sorry if I missed anyone or didn’t bold a friend!! It’s hard to keep up with url changes but please message me if you’re not on here!!! I love you all so much and thank you so much for making me happy!!