#lyriumless

    okay okay, so i’m going to keep this very short and sweet, but i felt like this need to be said/made. i hit a milestone in followers (100+ , wooo!), and i’m honestly shocked and flattered and humbled, considering how short of a time i’ve been here. i’ve already met so many amazing writers and people, and i have found myself laughing more than i have in a very, very long time. so this post was made to show that i appreciate all of you, and if you aren’t listed, i appreciate you just as much ;v; here goes! a list of awesome people who i’ve either written with, want to write with, or just admire. ovo highly recommend a follow

        DULLUHAN

        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.

          ❛    feels like forever

                          since i’ve even touched a chess board —

      a wholly bittersweet sensation against her fingertips — memories that sang with laughter, memories filled with warmth, memories stained with blood, a loneliness that can only come from LOSS — and yet, in the face of recollection, she brings a challenge forth with a smile.

                          ❛   ———- what do you say, commander? fancy a game?

     the brisk whip of wind pushing through Haven sent a shiver through elias’ damaged body. it was laced with a sort of knowing ( the world crumbling around them ) as it cut through him like a brilliantly sharpened blade. his eyes almost watered at the prospect of the cold as his frame visibly shuddered from the wind’s bite.            his wound was almost fully healed & if not for his shamefully bull-headed nature, he might have listened to the healer’s bark about being confined to his bed. but he could bear it no more. being idle was driving him mad. instead, elias roamed Haven, eyes soaking in the sight of soldiers training, merchants chattering, the clinking of earned coin resounding in their pockets. but it was a man who caught his attention :: one standing atop the hill, hair seemingly touched by the sun. COMMANDER CULLEN -- at least that was what he suspected. whispers throughout the village only penetrated so far within the walls in which he had been sleeping, especially since he was told not to fuss. 

   pushing up & onward, clutching his robes as if his life depended on it, elias stood as tall as he possibly could as he approached the man, jaw rigid, eyes pensive. 

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