I’m going to go insane why are so few people talking about him LOOK AT HIM.

it's kind of bullshit that people will react with horror to me discussing my fantasies/kinks until i clarify I'm the sub in them. like even my therapist was all like "ohhh it's ok to want to hold power so long as it's consensual" and then clearly relaxed when I clarified I wanted to be the sub.

i love you everyone and with rape kinks, those who want to roleplay kidnapping and abusing someone, i love you i love you i love you. this ain't me fishing for a dom/me to be clear---you are VALUED as a person, outside of your sexual fantasies. I care about you and appreciate you, and there is nothing wrong or bad about you!!!!

everyone liking this: please reblog!! I don't beg for reblogs but I genuinely want dom/mes, sadistics, etc to get some appreciation

@snail-eggs

things people do after having a nightmare that isn’t crying

things people do to combat having nightmares if they occur commonly

things people with insomnia do

add your own in reblogs/comments!

simply dont monday

This was posted on v-day on the official @the.redbarrels Instagram. I had to share in case anyone on here didn't get a chance to see this glorious masterpiece 😭❤

Make sure your sound is on!

come talk to me about your lust for Coyle pls ;-;

I had so much fun with the ask yesterday, that I rewrote some bits to make a Dorian/trans male Lavellan version x3 I crossposted both on my Ao3, because I had fun writing it, but I am sharing the altered version here too x3 Just be mindful that this could use some triggering words, and if you are not comfortable with the Cl** and Cu** words being used, stay clear of this please x3 Pairing: Dorian/trans male Lavellan Rating: E

The rush of air felt cold against his flushed cheeks.

He heard the soft splashing of the nearby well, the sound comforting in contrast with the noise inside. Just a moment for himself was all he needed, a moment of calmness after dealing with too many politicians and murder plots.

Revassan took a deep breath, inhaling the soft scents of the exotic flowers around him. 

“Ah, and there I wondered where the hero of the evening went. I figured I’d find you here.” Dorian’s voice made him smile on the spot. It had been hard to find even a minute for themselves with everything going on. They’d only been able to squeeze in one tiny dance on the balcony.

“You always seem to sense where to find me,” Revassan smirked at the mage. “I’d almost say you keep a magical tracker on me.”

“Maybe I do.” He watched the eyes of the Altus glinting slightly, his lips stretching into a mischievous smirk. “We Tevinter mages are rather good at keeping track of our elves.” Dorian joked. “Wouldn’t want them to run away and develop free will, right?” he teased. 

“Ah, I knew there was a catch.” The elf chuckled, observing as Dorian's expression softened. “I take it you came to fetch me then?” 

“Actually, I wanted to steal a moment with you.” Dorian presented him with the bottle of wine he’d held behind his back. “What could be nicer than a picnic in Celene’s gardens right?” 

“And also her wine, I assume?” 

“Of course.” The mage gestured him toward the stone frame of the well. He would never get dirt onto his outfit. “But to soothe your conscience, I asked very politely,” Dorian added swiftly.

“Aren’t you always?” Revassan chuckled as he graciously sat next to the Tevinter mage. “I’m impressed.”

“As you should be.” By the creators, he loved this cocky man. He’s tried to withstand his charms at first but fell for him sooner than expected. Now, he was caught in his trap, unable to let go of the magnificent man that Dorian Pavus was.

“I see you’re very humble tonight.” Revassan teased, watching as Dorian conjured two drinking cups up before he filled them with the sweet red liquid.

“Of course I am.” Dorian’s mustache moved with his smile. “I am the humblest man you’ll ever meet,” he added, only his eyes betraying his words and calling his tease out. By now, Revassan was more than capable of reading this man.

It took him a while to see the vulnerability of Dorian, but he’d taken a deep understanding after meeting his father in Redcliffe.

“Thank you for sneaking the wine out.” Revassan’s smile was genuine. “I needed it,” he added. The past evening had been a lot, and he hadn’t been sure how to deal with political situations. His people didn’t really meddle in things like that, the conclave being the only exception he witnessed. 

If he was honest, it was surprising that they listened to a Dalish elf. 

“I know.” Dorian’s voice sounded soft when he spoke. “You’re not ballroom material,” he added, the tease evident in his voice. “For me, it’s like coming home.” His gaze drifted away for a heartbeat, the corners of his lips dropping slightly.

“Do you miss it?” 

“Home? Of course. Tevinter might have his flaws, but it’s still my home. Don’t you miss your Clan?” he replied, taking a thoughtful sip of wine as he let it dance on his palate. “Hm, I have to say not bad, but nothing could beat a Tevinter Redwine.”

“I miss them.” A sad smile danced on Revassan’s lips. “I miss them ever since I left. Funny, isn’t it?” he chuckled.

“I always wanted to leave, but now that I am so far away from them, I can’t help but want to go back.” It wasn’t as if he could or would, to begin with. There had been nothing more he wanted but to go back when he woke up in the dungeon in Haven. But he knew there was no turning back now.

He’d come too far for that. 

Also, there was Dorian. He wasn’t sure if his father would approve of a Tevinter Altus, meaning he’d need to make a choice sooner or later. For now, though, he didn’t want to choose.

“We always miss the things we can’t have. Or so they say.” The mage’s face turned firm, his eyes studying him intensely.

“I told myself I won’t compromise myself anymore.” He set the cup aside before his hand stretched to touch Revassan’s cheek. The elf felt the cold metal of Dorian’s rings pressing against his skin, the touch soothing against his wine-heated cheeks.

“Neither should you.”

Revassan couldn’t say who initiated it, maybe both of them, but he didn’t care much about the hows and who’s as he melted contently into the kiss. Dorian always knew what he needed, the sweet taste of Orlesian wine lingering on his lips.

He got lost in the touch, slightly shuddering against the mage’s palm cupping his cheek. 

It was easy to forget everything around them as he closed his eyes, just enjoying the moment and closeness of the other man against him as neither wanted to withdraw.

“Getting a little excited?” Dorian chuckled against his lips as he felt him shiver

He didn’t even give him a chance to answer until his tongue brushed against his lips, gently asking for entrance before slipping in. This bastard knew all too well what he did to him. Revassan melted in his arms as his whimpers were muffled by the invading tongue exploring his mouth.

An unbearable heat began to claim his body, yet he also shivered as he felt the chilly breeze.

All he felt was the body pressing against him and the tongue moving inside his mouth. A hand pressed against his lower back, drawing him closer while the mage ravaged every corner of his mouth, leaving him wanting more.

“Dorian~” his voice got muffled against his devouring lips, and he wasn’t sure if he had spoken or just uttered the altus’s name in his head. It didn’t really matter.

“You’re shivering.” The smug reply indicated that Dorian heard him after all. “And you’re aroused. I know it,” he added, luring a groan out of the elf’s lips as their pelvises touched.

“So are you.” Revassan teased before a rushed breath escaped him when Dorian pushed him further against one of the walls surrounding the gardens.

“I am always excited for you, Amatus,” he whispered against his ear, his tongue darting over the pointed tips and making him moan hoarsely. Revassan tried to hold back, but he couldn’t betray the want in his voice.

Creators, he wanted this man, and he wanted him now.

“We can’t.” The elf tried to protest still, fighting a battle against his wine and lust-filled brain. He wanted to do nothing more but to be ravaged by the tevinter mage, no matter the place or the time. 

“I can tell you don’t mean what you say.” Dorian chuckled, his lips still too close to his sensitive ears. 

He dragged his tongue all over the tip, causing Revassan’s fingers to curl into his tunic tightly. A strangled moan escaped him as he tilted his head to the side, giving the impossible man more access to his ear and neck.

“I guess I have to make you beg for it then. We both know you will.” 

It was both a threat and a promise. Dorian always managed to bring him to that point, and Revassan was sure the Altus would manage this time, too. No matter if they were in the Empress's gardens or not.

A part of him needed to admit that the thought excited him a bit.

“What if someone sees us?” The elf asked, even though the chance added to the thrill. He knew the corner that Dorian was dark enough that no one would see for real, but just the implication of it would serve the nobles enough topics to gossip about.

“Are you truly caring about that?” Dorian’s voice was husky, but Revassan knew he only needed to say the word, and he’d stop.

“I leave that to you to find out.” Revassan teased him, only to moan as quietly as he could when he felt Dorian’s teeth scrapping against the sensitive skin of his ears.

One hand slowly snaked towards his crotch, brushing against his pants innocently enough to play it off accidentally. But he knew it wasn’t. He couldn’t help but press against the hand, secretly yearning for more as the mage’s lips and teeth drove him insane in such a short amount of time.

“Dorian…~” he whimpered as the Altus kissed his way to his earlobe, only to continue at his neck. 

His hips couldn’t help but move against the hand, but he was too proud to beg. He wouldn’t give in to Dorian’s demands that quickly, but he also couldn’t help the dizziness rushing through him. It probably was the mixture of the blood flow and the wine. 

“I love it when you moan my name like this, Amatus.” The cocky mage whispered against his heated skin.

His lips left marks where they touched him as his hand slowly vanished within the elf’s trousers. They were so close to the goal as they stretched over the smooth skin above his cunt, the touch so very teasing as Revassan wanted nothing more but to be touched.

But Dorian wouldn’t give him what he wanted. Not just like that.

“You’re such a… a prick.” Revassan stuttered out, his brain unable to focus on anything but the heat and the wetness.

“I am, but admit it, You love me for it.” Dorian chuckled against his neck, leaving another mark behind after sucking the sensitive skin. Revassan felt every tooth dragging over his skin and the soft sensation of the mage’s lips as it pressed right against him.

But Dorian was right. He loved this man more than anyone else.

“Dorian…” a moan broke past the elf’s lips again, his hips grinding wantonly against the hand touching anything but his pulsing clit. “Pl… Please.” he gave in and fought his pride, not caring if anyone would see them.

All that he wanted was Dorian.

“I told you. You would eventually start begging.” The altus chuckled just as his hand traveled lover to rub Revassan’s clit. “It’s alright,” he added in a soothing voice as the elf moaned underneath his touch, his fingers curling firmly into his clothes. 

“I take care of you,” Dorian promised softly, his hand never stopping its circling motion as it pressed against the elf’s engorged clit.

It drove him insane. The sensation, as much as the knowledge of being handled in the Empresse’s gardens, was too much. He didn’t know what to think since all his thoughts became a heated blur, his hips thrusting into his lover’s hands on their own. 

It didn’t matter anymore where they were or what they did. All that mattered was that Revassan was here and the heat rushing through him, wanting more. And what he wanted right now was to find release within his lover’s hands.

“I’m close.” he moaned, his forest green eyes hooded and foggy when he tried to make eye contact.

“Then come for me, Amatus,” Dorian answered, his voice hoarse since he couldn’t hide his own desire. “Come,” he added in a whisper, his lips gently sucking at the tip of Revassan’s pointed ear as his hand kept pressing firmly against his sweet spot.

He didn’t budge when the elf found his release within his hand, hips stuttering as his cunt clenched around nothing.

For a moment, he felt shaky. Only the body of his lover could keep Revassan from falling onto the ground as his heart rate went up. He almost felt like he was bursting, and everything around him was a blur.

But he felt Dorian’s warmth and strength as it held him, the mage’s aftershave so prominent in his nostrils.

Revassan could’ve fallen asleep but forced himself to regain a clear head. No one was around them, just the two of them sharing a heated embrace as the elf slowly came to his senses.

“What about you?” he asked hoarsely as one of his hands softly brushed questionably against Dorian’s bulge. 

“How about we join the party for now, and you repay me after we retire to our quarters?” The altus whispered against his ear, cleaning his hand with a handy spell and giving Revassan a moment to make himself decent again.

“You think anyone can lend us any silk shawls?” 

Come - Enver Gortash

Masterlist

Wordcount: 1.4K

Warnings: Threats, manipulation, violence.

Despite the less than fortunate circumstances the two of you met in, you think Astarion is the closest thing a person could call a perfect lover.

Besides one, rather large thing that eats at you every night.

He hogs the blanket.

You've tried everything. More blankets, building a wall with pillows, more blankets, lighting the fireplace, and oh, did I mention more blankets?

With each attempt, you wake up shivering in the dead of night, because he has absolutely everything draped over his body—not even wrapped around him—like a mountain of fabric piled on top of him. He sleeps like a corpse, hands and arms stuck to his sides, so why the hells he needs so many, you don't understand.

And when you yank away the blankets, your hands brush against his skin which you swear border on freezing temperatures. If you wrap yourself around multiple times with blankets, it somehow always ends up near him, leaving you to face the blaring cold by yourself.

Quite honestly, you're fed up.

“Darling, there are better ways of asking to tie me up.”

You scoff, tightening the bedroll around his entire body with the strap that comes along with it. “If I wanted to tie you up, it would feel sexier than this.”

“Trust me, love, I think you're sexy even when your hair looks like a nest in the morning.”

You glare at him which earns you a cheeky grin. “I wouldn't look like that if you let me have one night of sleep without waking up to a blizzard!”

He wiggles a bit in the bedroll, testing it out. And just when you think it might hold, the bindings fall apart, and he’s staring at you with lidded eyes, arms free to swipe the blankets away from you. You groan in frustration.

“This is hopeless.”

“There are other means of warming me up, if you’re willing.”

You roll your eyes and he laughs, sitting up to speak to you properly. “I’m only cold because you sleep so far away from me. You're practically on the edge of the bed, hanging off.”

“Because I don't want to make you uncomfortable and accidentally touch you without asking!”

He raises a brow at this. “Surely that's not why you avoid me like the bloody plague when we’re resting?”

Sheepishly, you tug the blanket over your legs. He eyes you up and down with a silent pause, before reaching to pull you against him. He leans backwards into the mattress and drags you along with him, which you nearly yelp at though he doesn't seemed fazed himself. With your face pressed against his chest and your legs entangled with his, you can barely let out your voice without making it sound flustered.

“What is this supposed to be?”

“I won't be cold, and you’ll have your blanket this way.”

You feel his skin against yours. “…you’re freezing.” You want to stay like this forever.

“You’ll adjust, love.”

And as he pulls the blanket over the both of you, he clears his throat.

“And for the record,” he mumbles against your temple. “I don't mind if you're the one touching me.”