#Bit of angst

[bearw-me]

Hii, I don't have a specific request. I just NEED panic attack comfort. You can choose who comforts the reader (if you're ok with that, I just hope it makes sense?)

Yo! luna's, tysm for requesting! i chose not one, but two characters, hope you like it!

𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐒𝐢𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮? — 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐜𝐬

𐐒 ft : angel dust, charlie morningstar, gn!reader 𐐒 cw : fluff, hurt/comfort, bit of angst, all around cute 𐐒 summary : they find you curled up and in the midst of a panic attack. 𐐒 note : know the feeling! hope this helps or at least makes you smile lol

𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐭 / 𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲

i feel like angel has had a panic attack before. so when he sees you curled into yourself in the corner, sobbing softly and shaking, he immediately comes to sit next to you.

"Hey, hey, what's with all this crying?" he tries to smile for the both of you, but he's really concerned.

"You're okay kiddo, I got ya'"

he listens if he knows it will help you talk about it, but if it only makes you spiral further into it, then he decides to distract you from the horrible feelings

he wraps an arm (or two) around your shoulders and pulls you close in order to show you his phone.

shows you some music he likes and plays it while he shows you the crazy shit + photo's on his phone to make you laugh.

Oh! and he knows just the perfect person to help keep him company with you: Fat Nugget's sits on your lap!

the cute little hellpig curls up and snores, little oinks occasionally leaving his snout

angel probably won't leave you after that, hell, you two are having a sleepover in his room now and binge watching a series together until he's sure you're okay

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫

charlie herself may not know how you feel, but she definitely knows what's wrong and how to help.

she kneels down and sits in front of you with that soft smile of hers, asking what's wrong and how she can help you

"Just focus on me okay? Just- breath," she does the same, inhaling slowly and exhaling, repeating until she is sure she has your attention focused on her and not whatever you're feeling.

but Charlie can't really just let you be all by yourself, so she wipes the tears from your eyes. cradling your face and wiping them away with her thumbs.

definitely physically comforting you and talking you through it, like rubbing your back and making sure she stays next to you

charlie is the definition of comfort i think, and understanding

if you want a private place to talk it out, she has her room for the two of you to sit in

brings you whatever you need, like a warm drink, maybe a blanket

if you need a hug, charlie's got two arms for a reason! bring it in!

[an-autistic-dweeb]

Angor headcanon.

WARNING⚠️: Just a bit of angst

Angor doesn’t like being touched that much. That being said, he’s extremely touch-starved.

He especially doesn’t like his face being touched, because Morgana always did that and we all know how that went. He also hasn’t had any casual and/or loving physical contact in centuries, so his body immediately perceives such contact as a threat based on instinct.

But if you’re his lover and he’s assured and comfortable with you enough, he’ll give affection a little more physically. Just a little.

He’ll hold your hand, play with your hair occasionally, etc. If he’s really tired he’ll hold you close, almost as if he’s keeping you safe from everything around the two of you.

The way he sees it, you are the one good thing he’s had in a long time. He’s not going to lose that so easily.

[kytrisz]

Why not me? | Matt Smith

| pairing. matt smith x reader   requested by. @shuichiakainx

You're currently in the pub with Matt's castmate, celebrating the success of the House of the Dragon premiere. You are there as his plus one, and also because he said he needed you there. He needed the support of his best friend.

Friend…

That’s what you are, a friend, and always be a friend.

Sitting at the bar station, you stir the beer bottle you are holding while watching everyone around you, more like you're watching him. You study the way he talks animatedly, his expressions, and everything else. And seeing him beam like there was no tomorrow for what he had accomplished today induces a tiny smile on your face. 

As you continued to gaze longingly at him, you didn't notice a figure make its way beside you until it uttered something that caught you off guard.

"How long have you been in love with him?" 

Like a deer caught in the headlights, you whirled around to see who the person was. And it's none other than Emma, Matt's co-star in the show. You tried to school your face as neutral as possible.

"...what do you mean?" you carefully ask, squinting your eyes at her.

"I know that look dear, you don't have to deny it," Emma giggled, waving her hand to the bartender to ask for a drink, who obediently do it. Grabbing the glass, she leans on the counter with her elbows before returning her gaze to you.

"You love him?" Emma asked rhetorically as she drank the shot glass.

You looked at her for a moment before turning away, muttering, "I don't know what you're talking about..."

Emma let out a short laugh, appearing amused at you, then her eyes softened as she noticed you staring at him wistfully again. "A piece of advice, my dear," she beckoned you, drawing your attention and fixing your gaze on her.

"Sometimes...knowing the answer, even if it hurts, is better than regret," Emma murmured, giving you a small smile, before turning and striding her way to other casts, leaving you with your thought to think about what she said.

You let out a weak smile before returning your attention to him. You know it's true, regarding what she said. You tried to confess so many times to him to the point you can't even recall how many now. But every time you tried to tell him, fear always held you back. You don't fear him not loving you back, you fear that everything will change. You know the moment you confess to him your relationship will never be the same again.

You will never be this close again... 

You know he doesn't love you like that. And his past relationships are proof of that. Where you always watch his back while he's looking at her as if she's the most precious thing he ever got.

Thinking about it, you raise your bottle again to drink, forcing all the pain away with the bitter taste of the beer. While sipping, you noticed Matt staring at you. Locking your eyes at his chocolate ones, he gives you his famous charming smile that makes you swoon always. Then he raises his hand, signaling for you to come.

You smile at him as you place the empty beer on the countertop, then take out your wallet to get some cash and leave it there.

Even though you're practically intoxicated and already swaying and dizzy, you try your hardest to get to him without colliding with anyone else. After all, you do want to make a scene.

And when you're already feet away from him. There you saw him, smiling at another girl whose arms wrapped into his shoulder. Stopping you from your feet. 

You keep staring at them as your heart begins to slowly break open on the inside. But what truly crush it is when you saw Matt look at her the way he always at look at his partners before,

with adoration…

You drew a deep breath and slowly backed away from them with your gaze still fixed on them... Then without a second, you spun away from them and hastily made your way to the exit.

As you pushed the door open, you swiftly exited the pub, your lungs heaving and tears welling up in your eyes.  You don't even know why you're crying. You always see him with other girls so what changed, why it hurts? Is it due to alcohol? Many questions arise in your mind, yet none are answered.

With a ragged sob and pent-up tears flowing down your face, you let out a strangled howl. And it only worsened when a thunderstorm appeared and began to pour heavily, leaving you drenched from head to toe. 

"Fuck!" you hoarsely exclaimed as you continued down the road, leaving no care whether you get wet or sick. You just need to get away. You just need to numb the pain, "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuc-" 

"y/n!" you heard a voice call, stopping you in your tracks, and as you turned around, you saw him, the catalyst of your pain, Matt with an umbrella over his head, making his way inside you.

You immediately spun around and continue your way down the street, ignoring his call. You can't face right. You can't. You fucking can'-

"y/n, please, you'll get sick!" Matt pleaded.

You heard a frustrated groan from your back as a sequence of splashes of water became louder.

And before you can turn around to inspect it, a hand in your arm spun you around in a flash stopping you and startling you at the same time. Making you face Matt whose face is painted with frustration and scowl. 

"What the fuck are you thinking, y/n? You'll get sick from what you're doing!" Matt growled, tightening his grip on your arm as you struggled to yank it off.

As you locked your gaze into his, you saw fury flash into his eyes, but it quickly softened as he saw your face drenched in tears, snot, and rain, and as he heard you groan from the grip, he immediately released it, as if afraid of hurting you further.

'The irony,' you thought to yourself.

Matt then raised the umbrella above you and took a deep breath before asking softly, "...what's wrong?"

You both looked at one other for a long time. With him looking at you for an answer, while you... You're thinking. thinking about whether you'll admit it now, what's causing this, why you're crying, your agony, your feelings... 

But just always, you only mutter "nothing" leaving him in his umbrella without saying a word further and making your way to the station.

Dumbfounded, Matt look at your leaving figure. Hurt, confused, angry, he doesn't know anymore, but all he knows is that you're hurting…  He does not want to see you in pain. So, without a second thought, he pushed all his feelings aside and pursued you relentlessly. All he wants is for you to no longer be in pain.

"y/n!" you heard him call you repeatedly, and as usual, you ignored them, focused on getting away from here, getting away from him because you felt your grip is already loosening... 

But something stops you when you hear Matt angrily yell near you, "Why the fuck are you acting this way?!" 

"Leave it be, Matt."

"What the fuck is the problem?!" 

"I said to drop it—"

"Jesus Christ! Just give me a fucking answer-"

You felt something inside you snap, maybe because of the alcohol, as you turn around to him and look at his face "Do you really want an answer?!" cause Matt to stop in front of you.

"It's because I'm jealous! I'm fucking jealous, Matt!" 

Glaring at him with all hatred, "I'm jealous 'cause I love you. I fucking love you! Are you happy now?!" slapping him in his chest, letting out an anguished cry.

"Matt... Matt, why is it so easy for you to notice everyone but me? I'm right in front of you but you never saw me even once." you hoarsely said, closing your eyes you let out another sound strangle wails of pain that came in sync with the sound of thunder and rain pouring harder "Why is it so easy for you to love anyone but me...? Why can't it just be me Matt? Why not me?!"

You fucking said it, you fucking said it... Then there was a long pause. A rough chuckle let out from you when you heard nothing coming from him, only the continuous thundering and rain hitting the ground. This is it, everything changes now, everything is over... All will become strangers and nothing more. 

You spin around and rush away without even bothering to look at him. That's what you're always good at, running from everything, especially him.

As you keep on running further you didn't hear a thump of an umbrella thrown into the ground, and shoes splatting on the wet ground

And everything becomes too fast, as you felt a hand on your shoulder forcefully spinning you around, then two hands cupping your cheeks, and without even realizing lips landed on yours. The kiss was hard, ugly, and imperfect as filled with anger, pain, anguish, frustration... But even so, it's beautiful. The kiss is imperfectly beautiful.

As both of you felt having no breath left, you felt Matt reluctantly pull away from you, almost as if he didn't want to. And both your eyes lock, and you noticed a range of emotions lingering in his eyes. It spun with love, joy, fulfillment, and longing. You've never seen such emotion in his eyes before, and now it's staring right at you, causing you to feel overwhelmed.

And then he let out the three words that destroy all your expectations 

"I love you," Matt whispered to you longingly, staring at your eyes, your nose, your face, studying you as if this is your last "I love you very very much y/n, and I'm sorry for everything," 

As he continues saying his sorry to you let out a heavy sob from his confession, you feel so happy, you never once thought he would even feel the same. 

As you let out a chuckle you grab his right hand with both of your hands, making him pause from what he is saying and solely focus on you. Caressing it, you raise the back of his hand into your lips planting a longing kiss before returning his gaze to yours.

"Let's start a new," you muttered to him, smiling.

Looking at you dazed and stunned, all he did was nod and let out a happy grin.

A fresh start, a fresh start from everything else, and a new chapter in life. And this time, you'll be in the same chapter. Nobody but the two of you. 

[tanked-up]

Gaz: You know, people would actually talk to you if you’d look more appealing… if you’d lifted up that mood of yours, maybe a new hairstyle, not that you show yours but-

Ghost: I’ve already got everyone I need.

Gaz: Soap won’t last you forever, Ghost…

Ghost: He will, as long as I’m with him

Gaz: How about meeting other-

Ghost stands up: If you’ll excuse me now, I’ll be leaving.

Gaz: Wait where you going? I wasn’t finish!

Ghost: I’m off to annoy the living shit out of Johnny

Gaz: Can I join…?

Ghost: Go annoy Price

[amypihcs]

And this is a gift to my dear @i-dont-talk-for-days-on-end!

I've tried my hand to one of your prompts and here's some fluff (with a sprinkle of angst) for you, hope you like it!

Yes, there's more tattooing, more old men in love, more marriage proposals and more token exchange and body worship, but we all need that to live, right?

Hope you like it loves! - slightly nsfw art + tags under the cut

Tried my hand in drawing these old men in love + my very first kiss

NOW NUISANCE TAGS @tyrannosaurusnacks @fruitviking @cackled0g @kimgmac63

@sadieb798 @blistering-typhoons @skyriderwednesday @louieclamlent

@geeoharee, @rudbeckiasunflower @angryducktimemachine @haedraulics

@rainbow-person @r2y9s-notartblog @gooolabatooo @friday411

@eisenkrahe @usergreenpixel @feralmadscientist-n5 @uygfiug

@somethingintheforest @jeremys-come-to-bed-eyes @its-notlupus @yulagrandeur

[whysoblue2]

Chapter 19: Thing of Consequence

Did you think Narinder would not shoot back after the beating he took? Mh kitty's claws are sharp and he is unforgiving. What damage could he do against his new target? Thanks for following the story so far! Happy (not so much dear me the angst) reading 💙 PS: Despite breaking my keyboard and literally glueing a new key onto it to fix the space bar, I managed to get the chapter sorted! YAY

[queen-of-stoneharts]

Done💙💚

[berenwrites]

See Me - Stranger Things - Steddie - G

Rating: G| cw: none | tags: past trauma

Prompt: Love is being seen and known (@acasualcrossfade)

A/N: Written for @steddielovemonthh day 5. A short one today because Monday is my busiest day of the week since I have to get my YouTube vids written and recorded for the next 7 days. Loving all the prompts though, so didn’t want to skip.

(Also on AO3 ) | ( All My Stranger Things Fanfic)

See Me: In the Silence

When Steve opened his door to find Eddie standing there, soaking wet and shivering in nothing more than pyjamas, he didn’t need to ask. Taking Eddie’s hand, he gently pulled him inside, shutting and very obviously locking the door behind them.

He knew that look on Eddie’s face all too well. What his boyfriend needed right then was not words but actions. Eddie came to him at times like these because he could always see what Eddie needed, knew what would help. Dealing with the trauma that came back to bite them even though the danger was over, was never easy.

Steve started up the stairs, leading Eddie by the hand further into his quiet, empty house, into his bedroom, and on into his ensuite bathroom. He started the shower with one hand, making sure it was warm as he kept hold of Eddie’s hand with the other. Once it was up to temperature he turned and, as gently as he knew how, began to get Eddie out of his wet clothes.

Eddie just looked at him, brown eyes big and round. Every now and then, Steve paused so he could gaze directly at his boyfriend, making sure Eddie knew he was right there with him. Once Eddie’s sodden things were in a pile on the floor, Steve shrugged off his own sleep clothes and carefully guided Eddie under the warm spray, climbing in will him.

“I’ve got you,” he said, finally speaking as he cupped the side of Eddie’s face with his palm.

“I know,” Eddie replied in a whisper, before relaxing against him, head on his shoulder.

That was all Steve needed to hear. Eddie would probably start talking properly in a little while, but until then he knew Eddie needed to be seen and loved and understood.

When Eddie was ready, he would fill the silence.

( All My Stranger Things Fanfic)

[legendaryblueoranges]

Sometimes You Don't Want to Know

Well, the truth has been thrust upon Fit now... I wonder what he's gonna do about it?

Thank you to the people who read all the way through the comics when they found them... and the people who have re-blogged. I am amazed how far this comic has gotten and I hope everyone reading also continues reading!

Maybe I'll eventually have some 'Legendary' fans... but for now... It's Tuburucho time.

Also more Fred+Tuburucho lore incoming.... hehehe (I eat angst for breakfast)

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 22 / 23 / 24 / 25 / 26 (THE END)

Transcript:

Fit: Does anyone else feel like we're being watched?

Fit: GOTCHA-! I knew someone-

Fit: was...

Fit thoughts: Tubbo?

Tuburucho: Good morning, what are you doing?

Fit: H-Hello... uh... Is it Cucrucho?

Tubbo: No. No.

Fit: Then... Tubbo...?

Tuburucho: *NERVOUS LAUGH- HAHAHA

Fit: Oh, your name is Tuburucho?

Tuburucho: Yes!

Fit: Are you a new Cucurucho or something?

Tuburucho: Maybe.

Fit: Why are you wearing that shirt?

Tuburucho: It's Mine.

Fit: What was I expecting?... Well, why are you here? Are you going to ask me questions like Fred, or...?

Tuburucho: No. No.

Fit: Then were you just walking around?

Tuburucho: Just checking in.

Fit: Oh alright.

Fit thoughts: Was he even following me? Does he remember me?

Fit: Well... nice meeting you... Tuburucho... I have to go now.

Tuburucho: I hope you enjoy the island.

Tuburucho thoughts: He's so familiar.... Why? WHY? I can't remember...

[sodacrackpop]

I FOUND A TWO NEW IBIS BRUSHES RAHHH LITTLE EXPERIMENT

[snakeskins-world]

Picture Perfect...?

The Madrigals were all doing their own things today.

It had been 3 months since the Casita crashed, and the rebuild. They had all become closer than ever! Feeling like they've truly reunited properly.

Of course, they still had secrets...

Dolores, was sat in the main room, next to Mariano. Dolores was listening with excitement as Mariano spoke, his voice like music to her ears.

Camilo, was with Antonio, upstairs. They were running do the halls, Antonio was riding his Jaguar, parce, as Camilo tried to keep up.

Isabela was sat on her vine swing, decorated with new plants. She was tripping up Camilo every now an again by growing random plants.

Luisa was relaxing in a hammock, a drink in hand, her donkey-unicorn stuffie in the hammock next to her. Both laying in the sun.

Pepa was stood with Felix, both were charring by the bottom of the stairs, their conversation going unheard by the other Madrigals,

but it was clearly happy and loving, since Pepa's cheek were practically painted pink, and the sun was shining above the town, and Felix was sporting his loving, flirtatious smile at his wife, speaking to her in Spanish.

Bruno was sat in his bedroom, redecorating.

Julieta was sat outside with Agustìn, both enjoying the nice weather.

Alma was sat in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee as she read a book, a romance. But she wouldn't admit that.

And Mirabel was setting the plates for dinner.

"Mirabel, dinner isn't for a few hours yet?" Alma says, her head tilting up, her eyes going from her book to her granddaughter who had just finished setting the plates.

"Well, I like getting ready early, this way we don't spend time putting the plates out during dinner." Mirabel explains.

"And we repaired Tio Bruno's old plate! We wanna surprise him at dinner!" Mirabel smiles excitedly, her usual cheerfulness, radiating from her like light did from the sun.

"He'll love it, Nieta. How about you go play with your cousins? Or sisters?" Alma suggests, but it was more like an order.

"But I need -" Mirabel's excuse was cut short.

"No. No, I won't hear any of that, go enjoy the nice day -"

The sound of glass shattering filled the house, everyone jumped.

Pepa picked up thr photo, it was of Antonio's ceremony.

"Camilo! Antonio! You both need to be careful!" Pepa scolded her younger children, a cloud growing over her head.

"Mi Vida, look." Felix whispers, taking the picture, showing his wife. "Where's Mirabel? She isn't in the photograph."

At this, the entire family started to crowd around, peering at the picture.

"Mirabel?" Antonio asks, looking up, the entire family copied. They looked at Mirabel, who was stood at the entrance of the kitchen, her hands clasped infront of her, a nervous look on her face, as if she had done something wrong.

"Mirabel, why aren't you in the picture?" Pepa asks, her voice carried confusion and a hint of sadness.

Mirabel looked away, her fingers interlaced before her hands moved to her to her side.

"W, well, you all were really excited, a and I wasn't included, I don't have a gift, I guess you all just forgot to include me, but I get why, I mean, you need to have a gift to be a Madrigal!" Mirabel says quickly, her hands moving as she spoke, moving with her voice.

As Mirabel spoke, the look on the Madrigals' faces slowly turned to stunned sadness.

Pepa's clowd turned dark and a light drizzle started to pour down.

"M, mirabel, we forgot you?" *Julieta asked, staring at her daughter. "Why didn't you say? We could've redone it." She says. Walking up to her daughter.

"Well, you were all really happy, a and I didn't wanna be a bother, so I just...stayed quiet." Mirabel says.

"Oh Miraboo." Agustìn says lovingly and sadly, using her nickname only he could say, he hugged his daughter tightly.

"You could never be a bother. You're a part of the familia Madrigal!" He smiles, trying to lighten the mood.

"This won't do." Alma says firmly, her hands clasped together, the entire family looked up to their Matriarch, waiting for her to continue.

"Next week. We will have a party, for Mirabel's sixteenth birthday." Alma says, then looks directly at Mirabel "And Mirabel, you will be the centre of the photo." Alma says firmly but kindly, showing she genuinely meant her words. "We missed your gift ceremony, and your Quinceara. We will have to fix that."

"You really don't have to!" Mirabel tried to change their minds, but the family was already brainstorming.

"Out! The future birthday girls cannot hear the plan!" Camilo says, ushering Mirabel to the kitchen.

Mirabel chuckled. She knew her family was trying to make up for it all.

Familia Madrigal was healing. And it would take time

But they'd slowly heal the cracks.

[kattartsblog]

How about another trip to Vivi's bar for Makina

A dash of cream and vodka

Warning: Angsty sad vibes

Of course our girl Makina is a frequent bar hopper. And what’s this, a bit of a lore drop!? Looks like she’s opening up about her childhood to Vivi.

Makina: “Your bar reminds me of childhood home. I was raised in an apartment above a rock and roll dive bar. It was owned by my dad’s friend… I miss them both.”

Hope you like the gif! ;3c

[ooogethexxed]

im doing one of March's quests (the one to try to get her memories back with Fu Xua) and its very interesting.

You are not yourself without your memories

that line (though it isnt exact) is something March deals with over and over, and then again the loading line tip states "Keep going March 7th. Don't look back" or something along those lines.

she sees herself as unright, unfit. not perfect. without her memories who is she? yet, every single waking moment of her life and unwaking moment she's struggling with the fact that she has to keep moving forward.

its herself telling her that she needs to keep moving, yet, theres nothing she can do. its all pathetic in the end, she will never know who she was.

March 7th is going to be trapped in this cycle again, and again, and again. no one can help her.

[altacctforastarion]

Service

3299 words, porn with plot and a bit of character study, bonding over shared trauma. NSFW, minors do not interact, 18+ only, spawn Astarion, some spoilers for act 3 but like if you’re reading astarion fanfics you’re prob safe to read this tbh. Once again barely edited bc I’m sleep deprived.

Warnings: Amab reader, no pronouns used for you but you do have a penis, no use of y/n, service top reader, mentions of past trauma (Astarion’s and yours), I love service tops that are just that way because they like it but while I was writing I kinda put my own trauma in there, though it’s very vague and I’m just putting a warning in case you don’t want a tiny bit of angst and hurt/comfort with your porn), also I kinda switched perspectives around a bit.

^^Astarion asking afab reader to use a scroll that gives them an amab body

Also maybe I’ll make a part two

Enjoy!

You love seeing him like this, on his back, body relaxed, eyes closed and his hands touching whatever part of you he can reach, currently it’s your forearms, a hand on each one. You’re sitting in between his spread legs, staring down at your beautiful partner, your hands on his thighs, running up and down. You’re both naked, and while you’ve only just begun he’s already leaking a bit where his cock is laying on his stomach. You want to touch him there, but you won’t, you do whatever he wants and love every second.

“What would you like, love?” You ask. This is all about him, and you’ve fallen into a routine after how many times you’ve done this. He’ll whisper in your ear during the day, would you be so kind as to please me tonight?, you’ll nod or if you’re in the privacy of your own room at Elfsong, you’ll answer verbally, telling him you’ll do whatever he wants, and then that night, when you get to your bedroom he’ll arrange himself however he wants to be, and you’ll fit yourself in like a puzzle piece. Then you ask what he wants and you provide it, eager to please him however he chooses, happy to do all the work for him so he can just relax and enjoy it.

“I think I’d like for you to kiss me,” He opens his eyes to look up at you, and a smile forms,”if that’s not too big of an ask.”

“I think I can manage, just for you, beautiful.” You notice the twitch of his cock, he loves to hear about how you see him. You lower yourself down, hands on the bed keeping you from putting all of your weight on him, you kiss him, gently, sweet and soft, but that lasts for all of a second before he’s grabbing the back of your head and pulling you down, his tongue in your mouth and his lust obvious in the urgency of his kiss.

That’s just how he is, he doesn’t want control over you, not really, but when he has a chance to be the strongest force he takes it before making a new demand for how he wants you, what he wants you to do to him. You love it of course, gladly doing whatever makes him happy and has him exhausted and sated by the time the two of you go to bed.

You give him what he wants, kissing him hard and passionately, moving a hand from where it’s supporting you to cup his jaw, using your elbow to hold you up instead, putting your body closer to him and his hands start to travel from your head to your back, eager to touch whatever wasn’t in reach before.

Those hands find your chest and push against you lightly, and you go pull back, face still close to his, “Tell me what you want, beautiful.”

He tilts his hips up, and for a moment, his cock touches your own and a little moan comes from his throat,”I want you to touch me, and I want to be on top of you.” He moves his hips against you again, air coming out of him like a hiss.

You kiss him again just for a second, gentle at first and then ending with a bite on his bottom lip that makes him gasp, then you move and arrange yourself on the bed next to him. He’s on you almost instantly, sitting on your thighs, knees on either side of him. You grab his cock, stroking him slow with a firm grip, looking up at him. His eyes are closed, head tilted back, calming himself down from the looks of it, and he starts to move his hip, fucking your hand.

“How does it feel, beautiful?” You check in, even though he’d certainly tell you if he wasn’t enjoying himself.

“Wonderful as always, darling.” His words come out with a flirtatious purr, and you take his ability to speak as a challenge, speeding up your hand, palm rubbing against the tip on every other stroke, just the way he likes it. His breath hitches, and his hands reach for you, one in your hair, the other on your chest. He curls in on himself slightly, the hand on your chest is used to support him as he lets you work on him. Little moans coming from him, occasionally a swear followed by your name, as his fingers grip and pull your hair only to let go and just hold you there. “D-darling, I don’t want to cum yet.” Oh how you love when his voice breaks, that mask slipping. It’s his decision, yet he whines, high in his throat, when you stop completely, hands moving to his hips instead, and he looks down at you with such need, you feel the heat between your legs. He breathes, deep and slow before he speaks again, hips occasionally twitching forward, seeking friction but only getting air, “Can I ride you? For now, at least. I’ve already prepared myself for you.”

“Anything you want, Astarion. I’d love that.” Your cheeks flush a bit, this isn’t something you’ve done often with him. Usually either he fucks you, taking his own pleasure after you’ve done whatever he wants for however long he wants, or you fuck him while he lays on his back. Only recently has he wanted to lead things in this sense. You love watching him use your body for his pleasure and he’s always such a lovely view.

He leans down and kisses you, greedy, and his hand on your chest sneaks it’s way down to your cock, and you moan into his mouth when he touches you, his hand wrapping around your length and giving you a few firm stokes.

He pulls away from the kiss, putting his lips on your throat instead, and you tilt your head to the side, giving him space if he decides to feed, “Oh darling, all this for me? You really do love this, don’t you?” The purr is back in his voice, even though you can feel as his own cock drips on your stomach, his own need clearly visible. He kisses your neck, and then you feel his tongue on your pulse, but he doesn’t bite you like you’d expected. “Hm, as much as I’d love to drink from you, I think I’d like to wait until you’re cumming in me.”

You groan at that, face burning, not used to receiving pleasure from partners, but Astarion is different in a multitude of ways, and he enjoys telling you how he wants to see or feel you finishing.

—

He lavished your neck with attention for a moment, lightly biting, kissing and licking, before lifting back up to look at you, so pretty under him, so willing to do anything he asks for. He briefly ponders how lucky he had to of been to meet you after the nautiloid, out of everyone that could have gotten snatched up alongside him, it was you, someone who wanted him in his entirety and could be so selfless in and out of bed, only focused on what would make the people around you, him, comfortable, safe and happy.

You look up at him, adoration in your eyes, and you enjoy his body of course, but right now he knows that look is just about him, not his body, but his mind and soul. He knows you see the same thing in his eyes, you’d broken down his walls what feels like forever ago, but only recently have things shifted. Cazador is dead and the two of you and your companions are taking up residence in Elfsong, the others in the largest room available while he’d whispered in your ear, telling you that he craved a private space with you.

That first night you’d spent together, when you met him in a clearing, he’d tried to give you world shattering pleasure in exchange for your protection, all honeyed words and flirty smiles and compliments, and when he pushed you down you’d stopped him, telling him you’d please him however he’d like, but you weren’t one to receive pleasure or attention. You’d almost seemed uncomfortable, like the idea of someone blowing your mind was something to fear, and had he of cared enough about you then he’d of pushed, but he was on a mission of self preservation and the fear of scaring you away was ever present, so he simply told you to lay back, and let him have his fun with your body. You’d smiled then, obeyed, and let him touch you, offered your neck, and occasionally asked what he’d like you to do.

Eventually, when he started to open up more, telling you of his scars, of his time as a slave, you started telling him about your past, your relationship with sex, how receiving pleasure was a sore spot for you, that it was easier, more enjoyable to just be of service, doing whatever for whoever. That now you’ve stopped giving away your body, you no longer feel the need to, but you confess that that first night you’d simply craved intimacy, the validation that comes from being good at pleasing others and when he’d asked it was as easy as saying yes, and following his lead.

It struck him then, that maybe he wasn’t the only one with unhealthy feelings towards intimacy, he used people to gain things, and you needed to be used to feel like you mattered. He started to linger more after that, spending more time with you in general. He’d told himself it was to stay in your good graces, and ignored the squeeze in his chest when you smiled at him, the way it was easy to enjoy himself around you.

When you stopped having sex he noticed your worry, and when he asked about it, you didn’t open up right away, but a few night later over a shared bottle of horrible wine, after he drank from you and he was sitting with you in your tent, you stared at tent walls, avoiding his eyes, and told him you were worried without sex he wouldn’t want to spend time with you anymore, that he wouldn’t be happy with you if you weren’t providing a service. He’d kissed you then, silencing you, and told you whatever the two of you were wasn’t about what you could provide him, that it was about trust and respect. He didn’t say it then, too afraid, but he cared for you in a way he’s never cared about anyone, and while the sex was amazing, it wasn’t very high up on the constantly growing list of reasons why he stuck around.

As time went on, as you got closer to Cazador he found more comfort in you, talking more, getting to know you, sharing your pasts in whispers while the others slept, and by the time you told him that he wouldn’t be him anymore if he ascended, he knew you were right, that you knew him better than anyone. That night he’d taken you to his grave, he’d come onto you, and at your yes, he’d asked you what you wanted, what you were comfortable with.

You told him you’d still like to please him, that it meant something else to you now, with him, and that you think you could enjoy receiving, if that’s what he wanted. And then he was pushing you down, climbing on top of you and telling you your pleasure was his too and he knew you’d be good to him and let him have it. Afterwards, he’d checked in with you, asked if you’d enjoyed it, if he’d gone too far, how you felt about receiving now. Your face was hot and you didn’t meet his eyes when you told him it was a great time. From then on that’s how things went, he’d say something about wanting you to experience pleasure too, and he’d enjoy making you squirm from the attention, feeling your pulse pick up when he touched you and told you how good you were, doing what he wanted.

And that’s where you were now, whether you were on top or underneath him, you were to be of service, except this time you felt safe and seen and happy, you weren’t a fool, you were just happy making him happy, and he was happiest when you’d both finished. There are times of course, for both of you, when something was too much, too triggering, and you’d always find comfort in eachother, stopping immediately and after a break feeling out whether you could continue or just enjoy the night talking, wrapped up in eachother.

But tonight has been a long time coming, and tonight after he’d had his fun on top, riding you, seeing how he made you feel, praising and teasing, he’d ask you to fuck him, laying on his back and telling you what he wanted you to do, knowing you were desperate to please.

—

In the present, he snaps away from his thoughts and puts one more kiss on your lips, gives you one more stroke, and moves forward before lining up your cock with his entrance, and sinking down slowly, releasing a high pitched moan and loving the sound of the air leaving your lungs at the feeling of being inside of him. He waits a moment before moving, and when he does he’s slow, inching up and down, and he stops breathing, a clicking sounds starts in his chest in place of moans, and your hands squeeze his hips for a moment, lust evident in your face. With others, when he couldn’t enjoy sex, it’d been easy to hid the effects of his affliction, but with you he allows things like this, especially after you’d expressed your enjoyment, comparing it to a purr instead of associating it with the undead you slay regularly.

He must breathe in order to speak though, so he takes a breath before continuing, “Darling, would you do the work for me?” He lifts his hips, only about half of you still inside him, and you, of course, take over for him, thrusting into him while he closes his eyes, and the clicking noise returns when he uses the last of his air to moan your name. You keep a steady, slower pace, waiting for him to tell you to speed up, but soon his nails are pressing into your chest, no doubt leaving marks that would be visible tomorrow if not for your armor, and he starts to move his hips again, faster this time, nonverbally telling you to speed up, so you begin to fuck into him how he likes it, fast and hard, your own fingers digging into his hips, holding him steady. His mouth forms words you can’t make out, and eventually just your name, over and over, soundless besides the increased volume of the purring, clicking and knocking against his chest, his lungs failing to get the air needed, and you feel heat swelling in your abdomen, you love seeing him this way, blissed out to the point of silence, while his body pulls moans and gasps from you, tight and hot around you. You look at his cock, dripping, hard against his stomach, bouncing as you move, and you long to stroke him, let him cum where he’d like, maybe even down your throat, if he decides that’s more worthwhile than cumming while you’re inside him.

He inhaled again, and you look up, waiting for him to tell you what to do next, “T-that’s enough, beautiful,” His eyes open as he speaks, blown wide, looking down at you, and you slow to a stop, pulling another whine from him, ”I think it’s time for you to be on top of me, don’t you? You’ve done so well for me like this, so pretty under me, so good to me.” He rolls his hips, feeling you shift, and you almost think he’ll change his mind, tell you to touch his cock and make him cum, but he doesn’t, so you let go of his hips and whine when he moves, your cock falling out of him as he lays down next to you. You’re on him as fast as possible, kissing his neck as you push back inside, his legs wrapping around you and one of your hands in his hair, the other by his face, fingers tracing over his ear, and forcing a moan from him.

“Do you want me to touch you, Astarion?” You ask, mentally pleading for it, he’s made it easier to enjoy things, to ask for things, but still you feel some anxiety through the haze of lust in your head.

He’s gasping when he talks, you’ve just bottomed out and he’s sensitive at this point, “Of course you can touch me, beautiful, so good of you to ask. I love when you tell me what you want to do for me.” He’s not being subtle, but you appreciate the attempt at masking his encouragement for you seeking out what you want, and you like it more when he’s indirect like this, but the kindness doesn’t last, his nails scratching your back as you begin to move in him and his voice in your ear, “Does it feel good, my love? Are you having a good time? It certainly feels like it.”

He really is asking to be sure, you know that, but under his concern is the pleasure he gets from making you say it, and the joy he gets from your own pleasure at how he talks to you. Your hand finds his cock, stroking him quickly, you need him to feel good, and a part of you wants to get back him for the teasing. You know he can hear your heart, hammering in your chest, feel the heat on your face against his neck, the urgency in how you’re fucking him. “It’s always amazing being with you, I-I’m having a great time.” Your voice is hushed, embarrassment and your need dripping off of the words.

“My sweet pet, you’re doing so good for me. Fuck me like you mean it and cum in me, I can’t wait to taste your pleasure.” His nails drag against your skin, and you move your head to the side, giving him space to bite you.

You fuck him harder, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, a steady, harsh pace, finding your pleasure and moaning as the heat continues to build, your hand still stroking him, pulling out all of the tricks to get him as close as you are, as one of his hands finds your hair and pulls, “That’s it, love. Cum for me, you’re so fucking good.” His fangs bury themselves in your neck, causing you to gasp, and your release fills him, cock twitching. He moans as he laps up your blood, and you keep fucking into him, ignoring the oversensitivity, whines and gasps of his name from your mouth.

He cums a moment later, spend hitting his chest, and you stroke him through it, letting him go after a moment, all while he drinks from you, moaning into your sore neck. When he’s done he pushes you gently, and you pull out of him, planning on going and getting something to clean him off with, but he pulls you back down on top of him, pulling you into an iron tasting kiss.

“Thank you for taking such good care of me, love. Now how about we take a nice bath, hm? And then after that I want to make you cum again, I think I’ll use my hand, so I can see you better.”

“I’d like that.”

[raisedbyheathens]

And so it continues! Big Big shoutout to @onomatoseeyah for the incredible incredible artwork that provides a visual for one of the big set pieces in this chapter. The art is mind blowing and I hope this chapetr has done it some justice.

This is the last of the really angsty stuff, CW in AN's at beginning of chapter, please do take care with them.

Anyway; if any one does read it, please do let me know.

[slacklining-the-razor]

flexing vs resting posture

Spot the difference and guess which picture I hate so much that I don't want to be recognised... should be pretty easy. This has taken a few attempts to write because I'm not sure how to say it but what I'm going to state is that most people try to post flattering but unrealistic images. Do not compare yourself to pictures of people online. The reality is I usually look like the bottom image rather than the top 2.