IT’S LIKE YOU’RE ATTRACTED TO THE VERY THING THAT BOTHERED YOU BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT DONE WITH IT- YOU NEED TO FIX THAT MOMENT SO YOU CAN MOVE FORWARD.

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@comnder
IT’S LIKE YOU’RE ATTRACTED TO THE VERY THING THAT BOTHERED YOU BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT DONE WITH IT- YOU NEED TO FIX THAT MOMENT SO YOU CAN MOVE FORWARD.

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yknow what, fuck you *undragons your age*
my new psd does really hit
i dropped a plant in my bed and i just
came here to be gay abut my fc and then leave

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(..) asteeledheart·.
“let’s not pretend as if you wouldn’t be actively cheering for said perishing,” sidri retorts with a quick glimpse up to her, “and i doubt you’d be the only one there hoping for it. celene has earned herself more enemies than she can manage effectively, try as she might. it’s just a question of who is wielding the knife when it pierces her back, not when.” a small pause and teeth tug over full lip, “the dog can come, so long as you’re not the one with the knife.”
quill is pushed aside with a long sigh, ink-stained hands lifting to rub at her face in a rare display of exhaustion. such gestures are reserved all but solely to her company, allowed in the presence of that unspoken and unshakeable bond. (two halves of a whole, she thinks sometimes, the broken edges of her aligning with pros’ own.) “the game is a stupid luxury for people with more time and money than common sense.” hands lift to rub at her brow now, fingers sinking into tight flesh. “but at least i’ll have you to save me if the stupidity becomes overwhelming, hm?”
pale hands lifts to gently cup sharp cheekbone, gaze solemn but warm as it meets the warden’s. “thank you, pros. i know you’ll be miserable, but i can’t tell you how much i appreciate it that you’ll endure it for my sake.”
❛❛ it is only her own fault she has earned enough enemies to find multiple knives pressed to her throat. had she not purged the alienage, she wouldn’t have even half the enemies she had now. (..) what if the dog has a knife? ❜❜ nose scrunched; paired with a long sigh. (void-bound; normally vacant but never now/for her). sharp brow raised, poised arch of her face. half slumped, curled grin.
❛❛ i don’t know how any of the others cope with it. i might take a drink everytime someone tries to talk to me, i’ve had enough politics to last a lifetime. .. i suppose. someone has to save you from the stupid and it sure as hell won’t be leliana or josephine. perhaps you could convince vivienne to take over your inquisitorial duties for the night and we can get drunk in the library. ❜❜ soul-shared, as no two will ever be alike as they are. nails bitten back, a sharp tug to a hangnail with little care and wide-eyed. somber-eve, the soft bluster of the wind ambiance ’neath their conversation. she softens to a peach, over-dramatized tone. ❛❛ i’m sure i’ll survive; .. unlike celene, hopefully. ❜❜
a club but only for heroes of ferelden
u ever see something of ur fc and u realised u pick the right fc
But the horror… The horror was for love.

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dragon age fans watching ea play live every year
@ruhkie ( . . . )
possessed by this reality, thick tongue bloated in her mouth. insensate-being, honey eyes pouring glassy and vivid; swollen peached lips. how can you love so longingly? as if aching to devour, the very air haunted with it. embodied to trembling hearts & tasteless cherries. a hand rested heavy ’pon his shoulder; other hovering near his cheek. i could give you everything.
under hands, beneath lips. every inhale and exhale, as if you could die right there. warm breath curling to his neck, clung like a second skin. an endless hunger pressing each piece of her, nectared blood drawn in pools of cuticles; somewhere rotten and sticky. ( i could eat you. you have no idea how much you’d love it. ) as if the scrape of nails isn’t enough, a poorly demanded salvation from the tender curve of his flesh. a desire born impossibly hungry. restless and relentless, a decay so gentle and softening out.
i want you, lachrymose and bleary-eyed. the seed in her mouth baring sour fruit, rotten sharpness and paled approximation to something living. ( amendment: how much i would love it. perhaps you could grow to love it too. ) ❛❛ DO YOU WANT A DRINK? my treat, of course. ❜❜
The Color of Pomegranates (1968) - dir. Sergéi Paradzhánov
@renzao ( . . . )
fever in her bones, heat consumed her. heavy gas in her lungs, body elated and incandescent. insensate with longing, bloated tongue. raw, like melted fat. he is a means to an end, a mere passing. another name, another face, another victim. all longing between her stomach and throat. another weak man.
❛❛ terribly sorry! ❜❜ as she tears into him. coagulated blood marred her flesh, scent dug in and echoes of rushed hearts dominating her. exposed insisors piercing into the jugular, severing and all but dying black hair merlot. nails raised, extended and jointed from the bone, piercing and prying open flesh; gouging out holes. scraping back skin, open grazes and raw blistered wounds. ( what horrible haven’t i done? i’m irredeemable. ) it stopped being justice along time ago. it’s the one with teeth in his shoulder, limb from limb. copper take on broken shins, sadistically decomposing in her own meconium. fucking rotten, like acid patterning skin. now cadaver, fingers pressed deep in his throat, an end to screaming. ( stupid omnivore. )
she can feel him before he sees her. her mouth cracked wide, lips curved in the shape of desire. teeth dig into welts, piercing tenderized flesh. unhinged, heavy click of the jaw. blood stained rosary twisted around her throat, pearls patterned with the carmine. you’ve been looking for me. here i am. creating slaughterhouses, plundering wrist deep and a cold pause. how it satisfies, thighs pressed together; ( . . . ) several long, sharp clicks.

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Eva Robbin’s in Tenebre (Dario Argento, 1982)
(..) renzao·.
❛❛ HEY !! i wasn’t aware that they’d light up through my shirt ! you should have seen the look on his face … i’m never going to recover from that . the only logical solution is to chemically blind myself , so i don’t have to see that level of sheer disappointment from anyone else ever again . ❜❜ whinge complete , head drops into the cushions , offending garment having been tossed to the ground almost immediately upon entry .
hand then raises in objection , voice muffled from cradle in silk . ❛❛ —— nope , no , it definitely does : when he came over while we were in the shower . i have no idea how the poor bastard managed NOT to lobotomise himself immediately after that . how do i still have friends ? ❜❜
❛❛ it was a thin shirt! what did you expect? you’re a detective. you should have been able to figure that out on your own. don’t be so dramatic, sweetheart. how often do you see him anyways? you know what? if he can’t get over it, i’ll just eat him. problem solved. no need to blind yourself! ❜❜ bare footed, gentle tilt of her head and a hum, a darkened click. the shadow of the evening curling in, fingers curling into his hair as she draws to stand aside him.
❛❛ tina is your friend, isn’t she? she hasn’t seen anything weird. i mean, maybe that just proves you shouldn’t let your friends come over while i’m in town. ... nope, nevermind. the time i left for a month to find eugene hardy and isaac wheeler and then showed up in the middle of the night and hank was here. maybe just ... never have your friends around. ❜❜ nose scrunches, nails scraping his scalp. tender-heart, delicate smile curling her cheeks. ❛❛ by the way, is hank still coming over this friday for your movie night? and do you want me to leave? ❜❜