Lead Them... or Fall
A little blog dedicated to the beautiful artform that is video games.
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They were not all murderers. They were sick, but they weren’t killers. Murkoff made them monsters.

danioonce:

«I need you to hurt me 
 I need you to fight me 
 I need you to kill me 
I need you to destroy me »


Song: Mr.KittyDestroy Me 

swarnpert:

just drink an entire bowl of butter. drink the fucking butter you piece of shit. fuck you

gloriousandwild:

How to Love a Rebel Mage — Anders/unspecified

one. Get used to feeling ribs when you hug him. Hipbones. Collarbones. Elbows. The robes hide it well, but he’s thin—Maker, he is thin.

two. Read his manifesto when he asks you to. Ask to read his manifesto even when he doesn’t ask you first. Keep a copy of it by the bed. That manifesto is everything he is and every place he’s been, and the pages are stained with his sweat and tears and bitter memories.

three. Yes, the feathered pauldrons are important.

four. Touch him softly. Kiss him hard. He has had enough harsh touches (and the bruises that they caused, that the high-necked Circle robes always hid so well) to last a lifetime. But he needs something to ground him, to remind him that you’re real, that you’re still here. That he’s still here.

five. When he looks at you with eyes filled with defeat and unshed tears, and says with a shaky voice, “I’m afraid,” thread your fingers in his hair and hiss, “I love you. And no bastard in a skirt can ever take that away.”

gloriousandwild:

How to Love a Royal Bastard — Alistair/unspecified

one. He wears his heart on his sleeve. It’s all he knows to do. You will see it, plain as day, when he is hurt, when he is angry, when he is lost. Never pretend you don’t see, no matter how much easier you think it would make things. 

two. How do you feel about cheese?

three. He’s spent his whole life being pushed—pushed away, pushed out of sight, pushed into roles he never asked for. Don’t push him further. Pull him close to you, and hold him there as tightly as you can.

four. Get used to sleeping beside him. He’s warm, cuddly, and he hasn’t got the best smell. It’s a bit like sleeping next to a shaved mabari. Well. Mostly shaved.

five. When you sit with him under the stars, and he asks for the sixth time in his smallest voice, “Are you sure?” take up his hand and hold it to your chest, so he may feel how fast your heart beats, and whisper softly, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

inquisitor: this sword was made for my hands and my hands only. i am to die wielding it.
companion: what's it called
inquisitor: meme slayer 9000



2,672 plays

Yeah you know what it is

elissa-alenko:

-unattractive gigglesnorting-

effingtomb:

you-and-me-divine:

If you didn’t think “Shia LaBeouf” could get better, you were wrong.

I literally can’t believe this exists there are tears in my eyes that I don’t remember crying

dishounored:

HAWKE HAWKE HAWKE HAWKE

Shout out to between-burning-blades for pointing it out, I’d never notice him myself.