I Say Shit Like "If My Memory Serves Me" Knowing Damn Well It Serves The Dark Lord

rb to give your mutuals a silly little paper valentine card and a red heart shaped lollipop 💖

Tumblr isn't giving us back the boops for ides of march so I will do it myself.

Get your boops everyone!!!

I just put these together real quick feel free to use them.

Man I could just play around in Warden headcanons all day. Like not needing to eat nearly as much but feeling hungry all the time regardless. Not needing to sleep as often, able to go days without food or sleep since they are pretty much ghouls without the peeling skin and dark blotches. Taking hits that could and should drop somebody but are able to just keep going and going and going.

Anders can sense other Wardens or darkspawn in the Deep Roads and has a hard time telling which is which. So Wardens can sense each other, and yeah it feels like darkspawn. They can tell the rough distance from other Wardens, and after a while if they work as a unit long enough, I like to think they can tell each person apart.

And the hivemind thing? Like Wardens probably fight freakishly effective as a unit. Like freakishly effective. The more a unit can fight as a whole, the stronger they are, so not only is a Warden a formidable force of nature by themself, a bunch of Wardens fighting is probably a near terrifying sight to behold.

Just Wardens being semi-monstrous is a thing I find fascinating and fun to roll around in.

just cast the fire spell. dip shit

I thought the Inquisitor was bad but Rook just won’t stop falling everywhere 😭

the hero of ferelden and their companions continuing onto the gauntlet after having had the guardian air out everyone's dirty laundry in the world's most uncomfortable impromptu group therapy session

i am indifferent towards your shoelaces

you are the hero of ferelden. no matter your origin you watch those you love most be ripped from you. death becomes an endless cycle which seems to follow you wherever you go. the fate of the world rests on your shoulders as you know you can never return home. home is gone now. home is buried with your family, jailed with your closest ally, cradled by the ancestors, forgotten like your beloved, lost to time in the murky glass of the eluvian- dead in your arms, killed at your hand. you are the hero of ferelden and it is your destiny to die. when next the world falls apart, you do not come. this world does not deserve your pity.

you are the champion of kirkwall. you are a refugee, cold and hungry and sold into labour. your mother hates you, though she will never say it. it's your fault the ogre killed your sibling, your fault the taint took the other. but you are happy. you have everything, friends and family and status and riches. you defeat the people plaguing your glorious city, you are the people's hero. you will always know even as she came back, isabela left you to die. you are happy but you are alone. you have everything and then you are rocking back and forth begging please please please do not take my mother as well. you have nothing, but you for a single second, you had everything. you are the champion of kirkwall, and your ally has blown up the chantry. where is your home now that everything is your fault?

you are the herald of andraste. and you are so, so scared. these people do not trust you, do not like you, would feed you to the fade if they could. they do not care if you follow another religion, you are their herald. you can never return home because heroes do not have homes. they say home is the people you choose, but you didn't choose these people, did you? every step you take aches. thousands reach out to touch you, for safety. for comfort. you are a black hole close to destruction, and you cannot do this. you are the herald of andraste and you have not been yourself for so long now.