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the-patrex · 19 days

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Which fursona you think the doctor and the master would have?

#any incarnation of em cuz I think it wpuld change every regen #shut up patrex #im tipsy.

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mikichko · 12 days

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you’ve relied on yourself for so long that it’s a little jarring when gaz or soap (or both tbh) are there to help you out.

it starts off small, seeing you wobble around the grocery store with your left foot encased in a walking boot. its infuriating to watch as other customers weave carefully around you, as if you’re plagued instead of helping you out. so he takes matters into his own hands and helps you out. afterall, what would his mother say if he hadnt helped a pretty thing like you out?

“need a hand?” he asks but doesn’t wait for a response. instead, he pries the basket out of your hands, ignoring any attempt to take it back. your cheeks feel hot and you stutter through a rebuttal, trying to tell him that you’re okay but he doesn’t pay it any mind.

you spend the next half hour adding items to the basket while he tries to chat you up. by the time you’re done checking out he’s holding your bags and asking where your car is.

the tips of your ears burn when you tell him that you don’t own a car, you actually live close by. he gives you a sly grin and asks you where to, no intention of letting you walk home without help in your current condition. he memorizes your address and makes a note to alter his daily walk route to pass by.

and suddenly this one time thing starts to become the new normal. oh you’re bringing in some new things into your apartment? let him help you! doctor’s told you you’re not supposed to be lifting anything too heavy.

walking out of you apartment on an errand? oh what a coincidence! he’s got an errand to run in that part of town too! why don’t you hold on to him and use his arm as support as you’re hobbling over?

oh no! did the delivery drivers refuse to bring up your package to your apartment! there’s no need to worry love, he’ll help you out. he hoists the package over his shoulder, barely winded asking, “right then, where’d you want this?”

absolutely does not miss the way you gawk at him as you usher him to the elevator. feigning ignorance as he watches you try and fail to not eye him up.

and of course he’s so gracious and helps ease up the tension and stress that comes with being injured, has you on your back, legs over his shoulder, pressing a kiss to the bruised ankle as he rolls his hips into you.

“that’s it. pretty thing like you doesn’t need to worry about anything else but cumming on this cock. let me handle it all for you.”

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chososluv · 6 months

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P L U G ! C H O S O

✎₊˚⊹♡ summary: part 2 of PLUG!CHOSO because i love this pair so much (๑>◡<๑)~♡ ✎〰 word count: 3.1k

🏷 tags/warnings: fem!reader, reader has a vagina, weed dealer choso, reader is a big brat here!, choso gets kinda mean, brat!tamer choso, black coded, choso spending racks on youuuu, messy oral (male receiving), choso is whipped and back at it with his big size (height and cock) creaming, squirting, cervix hitting, deep throating, spanking, you cry a lil bc its so good, petnames and praises (ma, mamas), she's kinda proofread but subject to edit at any moment!

⋆🎧✮⋆mini playlist: ⤷ all mine - brent faiyaz ⤷ moonlight - kali uchis ⤷ on my mama - victoria monet ⤷ venus - dpr live

Plug!Choso and you blossom into a serious relationship. The man is committed to you and you knew how badly you had him wrapped around your finger. He would do anything for you at a drop of a dime if that meant your happiness in return, regardless whatever that meant from him. He didn't care. He always put you first.

Plug!Choso who sometimes has to put your spoiled ass in your place. He actually enjoys it and It wasn't like you didn't like it either, sometimes you pushed his buttons to see how much you could get away with before he had you sucking his cock or bent over the sink like a whore. You personally loved when you got to suck his cock as an apology, something about the weight of him on your tongue left you drunk and in a daze. . .

Which speaking of . . .

"Awh — you know how to make it up to me so good, ma." Choso moans, holding your hair back from your face. The sleek silk press you had gotten done made your hair bone straight for a change. Your attitude changed the moment you stepped out the salon chair, acting brand new and that's when you started testing Choso. He saw the way you stared at yourself longer in the mirror and tossed your hair extra dramatically as the day went on. Choso found it cute until that mouth of your started. Your mouth is what got you stuffed full of his cock in the first place.

It started when you went shopping after getting your hair done. You hadn't seen Choso in a while because between you working and with him "handling business," you rarely saw one another. Texts were becoming not enough for you and you just missed your man so bad. It got to the point where you only heard him a few times a day and that's when you began to really miss him. When he finally was finished and free from being tied up with business trips, he came back to you immediately. He was making it up to you by taking you on this shopping spree, but you couldn’t care less. You wanted to feel his girth on your tongue again, but you also wanted him to pay for leaving you alone all those weeks.

So, you decided to be an absolute brat.

Plug!Choso doesn't see it at first. He thought you were genuinely being moody with him until he noticed the longing stares and soft brushes against him. He realized then what game you were playing. He didn't mind though, he only ignored it until that mouth of yours started at the Prada store.

You had a pair of pumps on, staring at your feet in the mirror and you look over at Choso. You stared at him, seeing him consumed in his phone and you let yourself get annoyed. The one time he was not paying attention to you, and you rolled your eyes with a scoff. Choso looked up, seeing that nasty look on your face and he only raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong?"

"Back on your phone again I see." You said snarkily and he clenched his jaw at your antics. You only turned around, humming nonchalantly before walking back to the shoe bench. Choso got up to follow you and he dropped to your feet before you can sit down. Even though you had just royally pissed him off, he was still being a gentlemen and tended to your needs. You bit your lip, feeling bad for snapping on him but you knew it was part of your game. He gently helped you out of the shoes before placing on another pair that he picked out for you. Delicately securing the straps, he stood up and loomed over you then he spoke.

"You may be my shawty but don't let that fucking mouth get you in trouble." He warned ever so silently so only you could hear. You gulped, pussy twitching at his threat but you stood your ground. You looked at him up and down before sneering.

"Whatever." You rolled your eyes before looking down at your feet, shoes grabbing your attention. You walked over to the mirror, ignoring the glare you feel in the back of your head from Choso. You looked at your feet once more, inspecting the platform heel and deciding on which shoe you were going to get. You walked back over to the bench and Choso is already ready to peel the shoe off of you. He's still pissed, but he tried to hide his grin when you informed him that you were going with his pick over your own.

Plug!Choso who spent thousands of dollars on you despite being furious because he loves spoiling you. You two left the mall with multiple bags — Choso carried them all — and it safe to say you two had a successful shopping day. You two barely said a word to one another, sensing he's still mad about your attitude the whole day but you had your stomach in a knot ready for the repercussions when you two got home.

"You been a brat to me all fucking day." Plug!Choso would say after you two got settled in the bedroom. You were putting your shoes away before taking off your earrings as he griped at you and you rolled your eyes. You don't say anything and you place your earrings on your vanity. He scowled at you, seeing you rolled your eyes at him yet again and he only grinded his teeth together.

"Y/N." He cautioned to you in tone that rendered a warning yet again. You looked up from your vanity and to him, trying to muster sneer but you went blank when you saw the look on his face. You felt your lower belly tremble and spine tingle at that look he gave.

"Choso." You only tried to continue your facade but you were moments from breaking. Choso saw right through you the moment you had your stunt in the Prada store. You were testing him intentionally and he knew you only acted like this when you needed reminding of who you were actually fucking with.

And lucky for you he'd remind you all fucking night long.

"Do I need to remind you who fucking owns that pussy?" Choso exhaled from the blunt and you bite your lip. Your feel goosebumps up and down your arms and before you can stop yourself you're nodding.

"Maybe." You said.

"Fucking brat." Choso growled before getting up from the bed. He walked over to you, grabbing your face with one hand while the other held onto the blunt. He brought it to his mouth, inhaling as he watched your eyes glaze over with lust and a hint of submission. Your lips were so pouty and glossy, so pretty he almost forgot he was irate.

Keyword almost.

"Cho—" He exhaled and cut you off.

"Nah, don’t ‘Cho' me. you been acting like a brat all day because you want me to fuck you?" Choso's tone was fed up, "Use that pretty mouth of yours that's been mean all fucking day and ask." Oh he's really mad and your stomach is doing flip flops. You feel breathless and know there's an incoming pool of arousal about to drench your panties.

"Cho, please." He curtly inhaled and exhaled.

"Please what?" He glared at you and ran a thumb across your bottom lip. You fight the urge to close your mouth around it and suck.

"Remind me who owns this pussy." You beg, hands reaching out to grab at the gray sweats he changed into. Your fingers were undoing the strings eagerly. He smirked, inhaling from the blunt one last time before ashing it. He decided you're worth his attention and he releases your face from his hold. You missed the warmth from his hands as he walked over to the edge of the bed before pulling his cock out. He sits down, stroking the semi-hard length and causing your mouth to water. You bit your lip as he beckoned you over.

"Come put that mean ass mouth to work first."

And that's how you ended up sucking his cock as an apology.

His length is so filling to have in your mouth. The weight of it, the pretty tip, the soft musk of him, you love everything about having his cock in your mouth. Not to mention the cussing and soft moans that left his mouth above you. You look up, seeing him chewing on his bottom lip. His nose is scrunched up and it highlights those piercings you just adore on him. His pretty nose ring, and now the recently added septum ring you convinced him to get along with you one day. Couple's piercings! You proclaimed, followed with that he would be hot with it along with his nose ring. However you were wrong.

He's so fucking handsome with it.

And with his hair growing out, it frames his face beautifully. He was an adonis falling apart at your own mouth and will. You continue sucking around him, soft hands massaging his balls too and his thighs twitch. He moans, hand pushing on your head as his hips bucked up. You gag around him, rubbing your thighs together as you took more of him in you. Your nose is touching his pelvis and he curses. You continue your apology, releasing him from your mouth after holding him snug in your throat. You gasp, soft giggle occuring. A string of spit connects from Choso's tip to your lips and you bring a finger to your lips, taking the lewd line and lining it with your palm. You take that same palm and wrap it around Choso's length. With your wet hand, you jerk it, finding oxygen in your lungs after recovering from that explicit deep throat. You eye at your work, tip angry red and vein on the underside growing thick.

Your cunt clenched around nothing as you moaned at the sight. You take your bottom lip between your teeth, looking up at Choso who stares at you with hooded eyes. His breathing is ragged as he slowly continues to chase after his high.

"Fuck, mama making me almost forget what I was mad at you for." He chuckles, then sighing at the sound of you giggling from between his legs. His praise makes you learn forward, kissing his tip and then tucking him back in your mouth. You suckle, feeling a pebble of cum trickle down your throat. You remove your mouth after swallowing.

"You taste so good." You moan, looking as you tap the head of his cock against your bottom lip. He moans, eyebrows scrunching as his grip tightens on your hair. He watches you kiss on his tip before opening your mouth. You slide your lips down, looking at him through your eyelashes as you continue to take more of him in your mouth.

"Fuck, y/n." Choso moans, hips bucking up as more precum dribbles out and mixes with your saliva. You hum around his shaft, tongue swirling as you lick along the underside. The fat vein is beating against your tongue and you moan at the feeling, cunt continuing to clench around nothing. You're bobbing your head, hand covering what you couldn't as he continued to curse and fuck your mouth. You remove your mouth after a few seconds, gasping for air, and jerking Choso softly in your hand. You lean down, kissing the underside before sinking down to spit noisily. The liquid landed on his balls and you brought a hand down to massage it in. He groans, hand pulling on your hair at the sensation and you remove your hand to replace it with your plush lips, suckling on his balls salaciously. You savor his musk and taste on your tongue before traveling from his balls back to his shaft and to the tip. You look at Choso, watching him watch your every move.

Nothing prepared him for what you were about to do.

You filthily gathered the spit and cum in your mouth, making Choso watch it fall tantalizingly slow from your lips to the tip. The mixture landing on his slit and your mouth chasing after it, warm mouth back on his cock. You swirl the mixture around your tongue and his shaft, moaning around him. Choso doesn't bother to fight the moan that leaves his lips. He decided enough was enough before he came down your throat.

"Shit," He pulls you off of him by your hair. You moan, letting his cock fall out your mouth and saliva running all down your chin. You look up at him with a fucked out grin, "you done being a brat, baby?"

"Yeah, Cho." You smile, reaching forward to kiss the underside of his dick and he hisses. He tenderly caresses your cheek before speaking.

"Get up here and put this pussy on me."

Plug!Choso who ends up taking you doggy. You're whimpering as his fat cock hits those spots you desperately craved to be touched these past two weeks. Each time he's entering you, you're moaning lewdly and chanting desperate pleas and praises. You're struggling to form words and between moans you're gasping, breathless inhales from each primal stroke from Choso. He is groaning and slapping his broad hands over your ass to earn cries from you each time.

"Cho—So!" You're whimpering, sliding into a slutty arch and he curses, slapping your ass yet again. Your pretty skin starts to manifest a crimson palm print.

"Fucking sexy as fuck with that arch, mama. Keep that shit for me." He presses a hand into your shoulder blade, helping you maintain it as he continues to pound into you. Tears are forming at your ducts at how good he is fucking you. You needed this for weeks and you were finally feeling it. That tingle in your stomach was increasing and you felt it traveling to the walls of your cunt.

"So big, baby I'm gonna—” You can't even finish your words and you're spraying messily all over him, yourself, and the sheets. He pulls out, rubbing a thick fingers over your cunt and continuing to milk you dry as you cry into the pillow. Your thighs are shaking pitifully but Choso doesn't stop. He only slides his cock right back in and you to let out a scream.

“Yeah," he's chuckling at you, "tell me how good I’m breaking this mean ass pussy.” Choso taunts, slapping your ass cheek yet again and the sting is rampant and so raw. Those tears from your eyes spill and you’re sighing in pleasure when his tip kisses those spots in you again.

“Choso, I’m so sorry.” You whimper and his broad frame leaning over you. He sees the tears running down your face and he moves a hand to catch them. His warm fingers wipe the tears away and he smiles tenderly at you for the first time since fucking. Your stomach flutters with butterflies when you see that soft dom side emerge. How could he not change the pace when his pretty baby was so pitifully ruined? He wanted to scoop you up in his arms right then and there.

“Awh, baby I forgive you,” Choso leans down, bringing his lips to your ear, “did I fuck that stank ass attitude away?” Choso voice sent tingles down your spine and he feels you clench around him at his words. He rolls his hips against your ass and you nod.

“Yes, Cho.” You whimper. He smiles, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“Good, turn over and let me see that pretty face cum.”

Plug!Choso is so in love with you. He’s on his hunches, holding your waist off the bed as he pistons into you. The brute curve of his dick hitting that tender spot causes you to continue to be consumed with pleasure. Instead of tears, there was a fucked out look of pleasure on your face. He soaks in the sight of you sporting a dumb smile.

"Cho—so big I'm gonna cum." Between his mean words earlier, you sucking on his cock, and his immaculate stroke game, you were seconds away from entering that abyss of euphoria. It wasn't a surprise to him at all. He knew this was something you had anticipated all day -- to be fucked stupid by him. Choso only smiles, continuing to fuck deep into you.

"I know mama that pussy so creamy and tight around me." Choso says, seeing the creamy ring around his cock. Not only that, but your pussy clung to him everytime he tried to leave, not wanting to be void of his thick presence and attempting to entice him to stay. If he could, he would live the rest of his life between your plush thighs and hot, wet walls. His cock only seemed to be made for the way you were shaped and he fought cumming deep in you at the way your walls pulsed around him.

"Cho — cumming!" You cum, the feeling sneaking up on you before you knew it. You threw your back into an arch, wailing as the last batch of tears escape your eyes. You submit, allowing the bliss overtake your body and hijack your senses. Succumbing, your pussy squirts and it catches Choso's attention. He also sees your hardened nipples and pretty orgasm face and he allows himself to join you. He moans, letting his cock swell before pumping you full of his cum he'd been saving for you. You sigh, shuddering as you try to find yourself out of the white hot tension as Choso lays on top of you. His warmth shields you from all things negative and you mewl, burying your face into the crook of his neck. He chuckles sleepily before kissing your shoulder.

"You good, ma?" He asks and and you hum, locking your legs around him to keep his cock in you as you rejoin reality. You feel him softly twitch inside you.

"Mhmm, just hold me, Cho." You dramatically sigh, placing your face back in the crock of his neck and he only laughs. He kisses your shoulder yet again, causing you to sigh and relax fully in his arms. He smiles against your skin and continues to hold you till your thighs stopped shaking.

"I love you and your bratty ass you know that?" Choso says after you two cleaned up. You're curled into him, head on his comforting chest as he smokes the blunt from earlier. You hum, in a post sex daze that solely begs for a nap. You feel your eyelids growing heavy against your will and you only snuggle closer into him.

"I love you and when you put me in my place. So good." You say as exhaustion takes over all your senses and you yawn. Your mind falls blank, eyes shutting, but you hear Choso's next words loud and clear.

"And don't you forget it either, ma."

©chososluv ╰┈┈➤Plug!Choso ╰┈┈➤MASTERLIST!

#i am a enby of my word n i strike again w some plug!choso !!!#𝐑𝐈𝐕.𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 #also im tipsy posting this so this is def subject to be edited it but heres my baby to the world!#𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄:🍓𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 #plug!choso #kamo choso #kamo choso smut #choso kamo smut #choso kamo #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso x reader

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imperfectcourt · 10 months

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Something something Neil a very successfully retired butcher with no ties to his past living completely clean and innocently and just so happens to be in a relationship with some high ranking secret agent official Andrew and who the Bad Guys kidnap to get to Andrew and I've had a beverage somebody take it from here Andrew is panicked as fuck bc his bf is so normal and doesn't know how to defend himself or negotiate or

#im not drunk im tipsy yaboo #aftg #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten

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gammelgaedda · 8 months

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butch fish suggests: redtail catfish, cabezon, dunkeleosteus <3 ur fish women give me life and sustenance

Redtail catfish and Cabezon girlies being a bit rowdy

#gaeddasks #im hungover from saturday so i doodled them being a bit tipsy #gaeddart

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juricore · 8 months

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utena is so like. yes this is orpheus and eurydice yes this is thee narrative about breaking abusive cycles yes this is about the ability to change your stars/fate but it is also exactly what being a regular 14 yr old girl felt like

#well 16 in my case. idk i associate utena so strongly with my own self discovery that i understand that im too close to the material #but like wakaba flourishing was just. thats just what its like when ur in 8th/9th grade. thats as real as it gets #idk. im thinking abt her. and im tipsy #rgu #revolutionary girl utena #sku

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iciclesses · 5 months

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before I sleep want yall to know I'm thinking about the COD men who aren't able to lift a plus size reader but certainly are able to still manhandle her in certain ways <33

Price chuckling at your surprised yelp as he rolls the two of you in bed, suddenly going from laying on your back to being on top of him. Having to brace yourself on his big hairy chest at the surprise movement, and Price gets the front row view of your beautiful expression and flushed cheeks as he starts to rock himself up into you. He's grunting with the effort, heels planted firmly on the mattress, sweaty as hell, but the noises you're making and the way your pretty lips drop open has him addicted. The next day he has to skip PT because his thighs are shot, but he assures you its bloody worth it and yes, it will be happening again soon.

Gaz who gets really playful and cheeky in bed, tickling you between kisses and when you try to escape you remember he's a trained military member rather quickly. He's dragging you back towards him in a fantastic display of his shoulder and arm muscles before digging his hands into your soft thighs and grinding himself back against you as your brain catches up with your body. By the time the shock has worn off he's gliding into you, whining about how good you feel. You try and push him around, half giggling and half moaning before Gaz pins your wrists. His smile dangerously pretty as he looks down at you, can't keep himself from commenting how pretty your tits look when he fucks you like this, how you look like a goddess.

#price x reader #gaz x reader #noel.txt #i would write more but im sleepy and tipsy soooo

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wynsvre · 4 months

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gay new yorkers be like. faggotaboutit

#im tipsy and i think im funny so here u Go #gay #!!!!!! gay #new york #new YAWK

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tojiswhore-nanamisslut · 3 months

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The way love is such a prevalent theme throughout jjk has me in shambles

especially because it's not even a "love saves the day" kind of thing no love literally doomed some of these people. It's why Riko didn't merge with tengen, it's why Gojo couldn't kill Geto the first time, it's why Kenjaku was able to take over Geto's body, it's why Yuuta cursed Rika, it's why Gojo got sealed, it's why Maki massacred the Zen'in, it's why Toji spiraled like almost every pivotal point in the story can be linked to someone whose love for another resulted in catastrophe

Gojo was right that love is the most twisted curse of all

#and the most damning part is that the majority of those times are because of satosugu #kenjaku would have never gotten geto's body if gojo had parted with it properly #gojo would have never been sealed if he wasn't so in love with geto and shocked when he saw him #posts #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #satosugu #yuuta #maki #toji #kenjaku #geto #gojo #jjk analysis #jjk meta #these are all literally off the top of my head and im tipsy if i really thought about it i know i could think of more

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bulbabutt · 5 months

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fighting w myself about if i like the fortnite april design or not cuz on the one hand its a good look based on specifically 87 april which pushes it more in the direction of not sexualizing the jumpsuit (like. they are simply coveralls theres nothing sexy about it) so its a good upgrade of 87 april in that regard so i do like it

on the other hand: it is literally just a thin white woman w no discernible features, its very indistinguishable from like. ever other woman in that game or modern games in general, which is fine for like. what it is they dont need to reinvent the wheel to design april thats not my point

specifically whats annoying about that is that the last 2 aprils have been black, and with mm april specifically shes been the subject of so much hate and bigotry from people who know nothing about character design OR tmnt in general. so this is gonna light some shit on fire cuz ive already seen this being used to shit on mm april, who in my opinion has the strongest april design from any standpoint (she is a modern teenage girl whos not popular at school and likes journalism. that is what she fucking looks like)

andddd just in case anyone who isnt aware says anything lets all remember that originally april as a character never had a set in stone character design because every single male artist mirage hired would just draw whatever they thought the most attractive woman was at that time (is she asian is she black is she white they literally never gave that a thought it was simply draw pretty woman) until it came to making a toy to sell to kids

#thoughts #tmnt #april oneil #april o'neil #this is rambly as fuck im tipsy its whatever #ive never played fortnite or anything i just love to talk about april #and twitter is a HELLSCAPE NO ONE SHOULD EVER WITNESS #design gets props for brown eyes tho.#blue eyed 87 april isnt real she cant hurt you

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savedgame · 1 year

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also tokyo godfathers is animated in maybe my favorite animation style ever. and i feel like a piece of shit for admitting it cause my art is so by the books but, if i could draw like anyone id have that style. like the way these characters look like real people i could meet on the street

but then all that detail gets broken when they want to play around with style and have either a funny scene or high paced action scene, they use old showa inspired expressions!

i think its so fun and cool

#sorry im tipsy i just love this movie sm #tokyo godfathers

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evaningotham · 3 months

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the batfam as things that happened at drag bingo tonight

bruce: wins twice in a row and half the crowd voted to kick him out

steph: wins and chooses a shirt that reads “bingo makes me horny” as his prize

duke: is the 4 1/2 year old who was chosen to read off numbers

jason: throws crumpled up bingo sheet right in a winners face

tim: thinks he won but was wrong and got sent back to his seat as everyone boo’ed

alfred: was the food network star who happened to be there

cass: “you are the first winner we’ve had who looked like they absolutely hated doing the winner run and we love that about you”

dick: the announcers misheard his name five times

steph: is the disco ball in the bathroom

#im still tipsy from drag bingo #steph cass and dick were all me #then my roommate stole my shirt #batfam #batfamily #dick grayson #jason todd #dc comics #batman #damian wayne #nightwing #red hood #tim drake #alfred pennyworth #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #bruce wayne #duke thomas

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brewstersbru · 6 months

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More halstarion cuz ive been playing my lil origin run; also happy halloween folks !

Pain. Sharp, dragging, unbearable agony against his back. Astarion huffs a small noise of pitiful discontent before clenching his mouth shut. Quiet. Can’t let him hear you. His fangs tear a little into his gums, but there isn’t enough blood in him for any to really trickle out of the wounds.

A voice- disembodied, but cold and lilting as ever- sounds from behind. “My dear, how prettily you bleed. Even lovelier now, with the poetry I am bestowing upon you. Truly, a gift. And what do we say to gifts, Astarion?”

Astarion moans miserably into the ground- or is it a steel surgical table? He can’t remember, he can’t focus. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. There’s a feeling of hands in his hair, grasping, tearing- the flash of a derisive, fanged grin- “What do we say, Astarion?”

His name sounds like rot coming from his lips, similar to the way one would utter the word “disgusting” or “vile”. Astarion hiccups with the force of his suffering- it’s simply too much, never before has Cazador been so persistent, never before has he carved so deep, for so long. Astarion’s weak, starving body cannot maintain itself against his tides of cruelty.

There is quiet as Cazador waits for his answer, he knows Astarion will do his very best to give it. Years and years of this torment had to have culminated into something- into an exceedingly loyal dog, he’d hoped. It’s why he tries not to command anything; not only because it takes the fun out of things, but also because it encourages a kind of devotion to the task that a simple order could never elicit. Pain can be such a useful tool, and he’s spent years honing his skill with it.

Astarion gasps, chokes on a putrid mix of saliva and droplets of rat blood as they clog in his throat. “T-Thank you.” He coughs. Cazador hums and pushes his head back down. He runs a sharp nail down the middle of the warm, wet mess on Astarion’s back. It stings like a million tiny needles.

“Thank you, what?”

He digs the nail into one of the runes he’d just finished carving, ever so slightly, and Astarion writhes in agony. His breath comes choppy and ragged, and tears track endlessly down his nose. A moment, two, as Astarion brings a heaving breath in and steels himself against the revulsion he is about to feel.

“Thank you, Master.” The hum this elicits is decidedly pleased and Astarion hates himself all the more for earning it. If only he was stronger, if only he were able to hold out just a bit longer. If only he’d been able to make himself wait; Cazador would have grown tired, would have ordered him, eventually.

Now, he is little more than a lapdog, bereft of even his pride, and the pain will only continue. How he despises the man he’s become, the man Cazador has moulded him into.

The agony in his back resumes, even sharper and more unbearable than before. Astarion muffles a scream behind clenched teeth and wrenches his eyes open to reveal a circling of trees. A cool gust of air swipes across his sweat-soaked skin and he shivers, slightly.

Astarion takes a moment to orient himself. He’d been trancing, curled into himself and facing away from the fire- Gods know why, he could use all the heat he can get with the way his undead body refuses to hold onto it on its own; some lingering self-flagellation, perhaps.

He’s no longer bound to Cazador- for the time being at least- he’s fine. The ‘dream’ or whatever that had been was only a memory. Nothing more. He’s fine.

Sitting up, he swats at the tear tracks on his cheeks and comes face-to-face with a wide-eyed Halsin, who had been whittling, it seems, judging by the knife in one hand and the partially carved wooden-something in the other. Astarion ducks and covers his face with a slender hand.

“What in the hells are you doing, you oaf!?”

“… Whittling?” Halsin’s voice cracks a bit as he stumbles over the word. Astarion tries not to notice how endearing that is. He huffs.

“I gathered. Could you just- turn around? Please?”

Halsin tilts his head to the side, just slightly, and stares at him with furrowed brows, mouth set in a firm line. He speaks carefully, but directly, unable to tiptoe around a subject when they’re both aware of the gravity of it.

“Are you alright, my friend? I don’t mean to pry, it’s just I noticed-“

“Not now.” Astarion’s voice comes out rough, grating, and he cannot bring himself to look Halsin in the eye as he speaks.

“… Alright” There’s a shuffling as- assumedly- Halsin picks himself up and heads back to his tent. Astarion only allows himself a breath of relief when the other man’s footsteps retreat outside of his range of hearing.

On one hand, Astarion is astoundingly, exceedingly grateful to have his wishes honored. On the other, it is so, very quiet, and he can still feel the ghosts of fingers petting, clawing and grasping at his skin. He feels dirty, a vile little thing ought to be left in the dirt.

His back aches- phantom pains, he knows- and even years after their conception his scars throb. It’s not the first time this has happened, but it is the first time he’s been able to focus on it, the first time no other, greater pain can distract him from the dull shock of remembrance. Maybe he’d never healed correctly, maybe it’s his mind playing its usual tricks.

Suddenly unable to stand the scratch of cloth against the raised skin on his back, Astarion wrestles his shirt off of himself. Sharp nails dragging uncaringly against the skin as if trying to sate an itch. He wants the ‘poetry’ off of himself, he wants to be clean.

His scratching becomes more fervent, less careful as his thoughts spiral. A sob works its way up, only to die in his throat, he chokes a little on it. Off. Off. Off. He needs it off. He wishes he could claw the taint away. His skin crawls under his fingernails, even as they scratch past skin. Blood flows, sluggish, down the bony curve of his spine. It is not an unfamiliar feeling.

A sharp gasp sounds, quiet, but cutting in the previous silence that had pervaded the space around the campfire. Astarion does not dare look up from the ground. Great. Another interruption to him losing his fucking mind.

Thankfully- which, who could guess he’d ever think the word in relation to the druid- it’s just Halsin again. Arms now laden with jars and cloth, rather than the sharp woodworking tools he’d left the fire with. The jars are labeled, but his scrawl is too small for Astarion to parse the words.

“Astarion, my friend, please cease this needless self-mutilation!” He rushes to Astarion’s side, carefully placing the jars on the side of his bedroll and gently, loosely grasping at Astarion’s wrists- assumedly to encourage the vampire to pry his claws from his skin. He doesn’t push, simply holds him there.

The warmth is welcome, grounding in the swirl of pain and cold and despair that had previously been clouding Astarion’s mind. He lets out an unnecessary, but comforting breath and allows his hands to be pried away.

“Good. That’s good, my friend, thank you.”

Astarion grouses a discontented sound, to which Halsin huffs a small chuckle.

“Alright- you’re alright. You were looking rather pale- moreso than usual at least- and I had hoped some of my oils or salves could soothe any injuries you’d overlooked, or old aches.” He pauses for a moment and rifles through the pile of goods he’d brought over, “As elves, our ‘nightmares’ are more memories, than anything. I’m more than familiar with a long-forgotten wound making itself known after a particularly jarring remembrance. I am sorry yours were so visceral.”

He’s babbling, Astarion notices, low voice rather quick compared to its usual steady thrum, but he can appreciate the effort in attempting to keep him grounded. His body doesn’t want to move, though, and he simply slumps into himself, gaze steadily forward, hollow, almost in its vacancy.

“Here let me-“ A warmth hovers over the mess of Astarion’s back. Well, this is rather familiar. But it pauses,hesitates. Still, Astarion can feel himself tensing. A short, ragged sound punches out of him, unwitting. Halsin hums.

“Apologies, my friend, it seems my manners have escaped me in my nerves. May I touch you? I wish only to soothe the hurt, I have a balm that should do the trick well and once I’ve applied it, my hands will not touch your skin again should you wish it.”

Astarion takes a moment, another unnecessary breath, then nods. It’s curt, almost imperceptible really, but Halsin had been paying very close attention to his body’s reactions. He thanks him- what for, Astarion cannot even begin to fathom.

It’s quiet as Halsin’s deft fingers tenderly pass a wet towelette down his spine to clean the blood from it. It soothes, cool and stinging against new cuts and Astarion can only hope that at least he’d left new scars. Something to disrupt the carving of pure malice that had lain there, undisturbed, for so long.

“Thank you.” It takes a while, and his voice is fairly destroyed by what he can only assume had been long minutes of screaming and sobbing in his sleep, coupled with the panic attack after waking. Halsin’s fingers continue their deft work.

“Please. No need. If I may I- I hate to see you struggle so. Is there anything that caused it? Anything we can avoid?” His sincerity is sweet, but useless. Astarion shakes his head.

“Comes and goes, really. Used to be able to ignore it with other things. Can’t focus on memories when the present is fucked too, right?” Astarion chuckles, but Halsin does not join in.

It’s quiet for a bit, Halsin’s hands feel almost hesitant against his skin, “I am not a man easily drawn to violence but- well- your old master deserves nothing but the slowest, most painful death possible. I know it means little but I am sorry. You did not deserve his torment. No one could deserve that.”

“I was no angel in life, druid. For a long time, it seemed like a penance.” The words are almost hissed, but the sincerity in them is unmistakable.

“Even penance ends, eventually, Astarion. Forgiveness usually follows. Two hundred years is more than enough time. Especially when you had not even truly lived before being thrust into undeath- I mean thirty-nine? You still bear your child name.” Halsin sounds almost pained, although his hands remain steady, now pressing fingerfuls of balm to each cut, and even the undamaged rune-scars too. Something in Astarion howls, surges forward into an incessant rage at the tenderness.

“And perhaps I was a truly devilish child, druid! Perhaps I deserved it!” Halsin sighs.

“No one deserves that, Astarion. You have to know that.”

“If I allow myself to believe that, then I have to accept victimhood. I have to accept that loss of control. I have to accept that it’s not that I deserved it, it’s that no one cared enough to try to save me. Tell me, druid, which would you rather believe.” With a final, gentle pass of his thumb Halsin retreats. Shamefully, Astarion misses the warmth of his touch. The druid rounds his bedroll, settling criss-crossed in front of him and busying himself with organizing his bottles into a neat pile.

“Well, first, I’d like it if you used my name and not my title. It feels rather impersonal talking to you when you won’t even call me ‘Halsin’. Second, I truly don’t know, but I have always favored the truth over anything else.”

Astarion hisses, “I will call you what I like, not what you tell me to call you.” Halsin simply nods, and something inside him deflates. Backs down from its haunches.

“Oh, alright, you big baby. Halsin. Maybe the truth is that I was- however implausibly- the kind of person to deserve my penance.”

Halsin seems to light up at the sound of his name from Astarion’s lips. Astarion tries to find it dorky and uncool and not hopelessly endearing. Then, “I find that incredibly hard to believe. Had you even chosen an adult name? Had anything in mind?”

Astarion falls quiet at this. “I had an idea, a few, maybe. I remember being excited about them, I thought I was so clever with the word choice… But I cannot remember them. Cazador only called me by this name, when he deigned to adress me, and I did not exactly have the time or energy to care about choosing another.”

Something within Halsin cracks at the admission. To have that rite stolen from him was abhorrent. Heartbreaking.

“Truly you remember nothing?”

Astarion shrugs, “Hard to find that kind of thing important when there are other, more pressing matters. It’s not like the names would fit me anymore, either, two hundred years have taken their toll, after all.” He smiles, a crooked, self-depreciating thing and gestures to himself, the scars on his back. “Thank you, by the way. I wouldn’t have treated them on my own.” The thanks doesn’t even need to be forced from his lips. Halsin smiles at the ease with which it is offered.

“No need. And I know.”

It’s quiet for a while longer. The two of them take the time to simply look at each other. Astarion wonders, for perhaps the millionth time, what Halsin is seeing as he gazes at him with such open fondness and admiration. Surely it cannot be him. Godssakes he hasn’t even seen himself in two hundred years, who knows what kind of effect it’s had on his wrinkles. He tries not to dwell.

“I’m going to read.” Astarion says, when he can no longer stand the thought of just how many lines have been carved in his face, without the help of Cazador’s many painful instruments. Halsin simply nods, but continues searching his face. Astarion is unsure what he’s looking for, but is fairly certain, whatever it is, has long since left him. Nowadays he’s mostly bared teeth and vengeance more than anything.

“Please, go right ahead. If you would not protest, I would very much like to join you. I’ll whittle, stay quiet so you can focus. Would that be alright?” He tilts his head to the side, and, with the way he’s fiddling with a jar, seems so incredibly bear-like in the moment that Astarion has to clamp down on a giggle.

“… Alright. But you had better keep that promise to stay quiet.” Halsin grins, a warm, blinding thing.

“As a mouse. And we druids are rather good at mimicking animals, you know.”

A laugh punches itself from Astarion’s throat as he heads back to his tent and settles on some pillows, his most recent thick tome open in his lap.

It’s not long before Halsin is quietly announcing his presence, shuffling around to settle a few feet away, legs tucked up under him as he situates himself against the nearest surface- a stolen chest from one of the many towers they’d rummaged through.

It’s easy to forget he’s there- or, no, it’s easy to simply exist in a space with him. Astarion doesn’t feel the need to perform or prove anything to him- after all, he’s basically seen him at his worst- and the silence is warm. Interrupted, every so often, by the methodical scrape of metal against wood, or the crisp flipping of a page.

Before he can stop himself, Astarion’s fallen into another trance. This time blissfully devoid of any visions or memories.

He wakes to an empty tent, but his book is neatly bookmarked and stowed beside his bedroll. He, himself had been carefully tucked under a pelt of some sort- a piece he knew was not from his own tent- and next to the book lay a small, intricately carved wooden star. On the back, a careful engraving:

little star, how you shine

It feels like a declaration.

#if you couldnt tell im enamored with the idea of halsin carving lil trinkets for his bf #and astarion secretly loving them #very nascent (new word i learned from a commenter ily) romance #bg3 #astarion #halsin #halsin x astarion #halstarion #astarion ancunin #enjoy #no idea how long this is but oh well #happy halloween have gay people!!#tipsy scribbles #brublurbs

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