#but i still take a second to think to myself '...that doesn't make sense'

[scourgeofmyownbrain]

More "Bumblebee and Optimus meeting as ✨Adults✨ but still being Father and Son" stuff I came up with, plus extra because I can't get these chuckle-fucks out of my head.

Link to my prev. post for context. incase yall missed it bc I'm not explaining myself, we're just diving right into the deep end

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Bee knows Optimus isn't one for physical affection, and he fully understands and accepts that. He doesn't want to make Optimus uncomfortable by disrespecting one of his boundaries, that's just a shit thing to do. And Bumblebee is not a shit person. But... he's also desperate. Look, being deprived of physical parental affection your whole life fucks you up something good, let Bumblebee tell you, it makes you do some odd shit just to get a taste of what you've been missing out on. And! And most of the stuff Bumblebee has done are perfectly normal things to do! Plenty of casual stuff, leaning against his chair to look at what Optimus is working on, high fives and fist bumps (Optimus rarely, if ever, does these but for Bee he'll do anything just to make him smile, see Optimus acting totally normal about his feelings what are you talking about), leaning against him for a second when he's tired, totally normal! There are, less normal things, like when one of Bee's legs nearly got torn off on a mission and Optimus had to carry him back to base and Bee curled up close in Optimus's arms the whole time- because of the pain, totally 100% definitely only the pain that was Not mostly taken care of by some field anesthetics. It felt nice to be carried like a kid, sue him.

Getting injured is a special case with giving and taking affection. For example, when Bumblebee had to drag Optimus to a med bay after he passed out from a mission. They were walking into the common room together; Optimus was telling Bee he was fine when he CLEARLY wasn't because he didn't want to wake the medics for something as Trivial as THEIR LEADER and FREIND'S HEALTH (Bee is this close to strangling him) when Optimus just pitched over onto the floor.

Optimus, clearly tried and hurt: I will be fine, there is no need to wake the medics, I just need some energ... *faceplants*

Bumblebee: What did I say? What did fragging I say?! *Hefts Optimus's limp body onto his shoulders* fragging, stupid, slagging, moron, 'I don't need a medic, I'll be fine' he says, if I had been the one doing this, you would have torn the base apart getting the medics up, fragging idiot. *drags Optimus's body out of the room*

Optimus: *Mumbles something about not wanting to bother anyone*

Bumblebee: Too fragging bad, big man, you are going to take care of yourself and you're going to like it!

So now Bee has to drag a bot much bigger than him back down the hall and into the Medbay, just because Optimus was being fucking stupid. Yes it looks as funny as you're thinking. Optimus is semi-conscious but delirious as they make their way down the halls of the base and says "I don't want to take anything that would be better served helping any of you, I care about all of you so much I don't want to see you hurt. I love you." and Bumblebee's like Optimus, I feel so loved and so angry right now, but fuck what you want you're getting taken care of. No, you did not just make my fucking day, I lOve yoU tOo dAd-. He gets Optimus into the medbay on a berth then goes to forcibly wake the medics up to calm himself down because he is seconds from crying.

Optimus eventually gets better with affection, and now Bee gets a hug whenever he asks. He has yet to come down from this high.

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Bumblebee calls Megatron his "Shit Ex-Stepfather". The entirety of team prime thinks this is hilarious. Even Optimus can't help but smile, though he tries to hide it. Someone, probably Jazz, changed Megatron's file name to "Worlds Worst Stepfather". After the war, if Megatron is still alive, he will mysteriously acquire some kind of award saying "Cybertron's #1 Worst Stepfather". He is very confused.

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If you could get Optimus drunk, he would become such a sap. Like, insufferably soft and emotional. And he would be talking about Bee damn near the whole time. He would be so annoying.

Optimus: *Drunk* Did I ever tell you about Bumbl-bee? He's, he's my boy, my bumble boy, my gold'n boy, my buzzy boy, my sweet cheese. An, he's really yellow, you'll know it's him, he looks like- he's really yellow, it's hard not to see him, but he's really really good at sneaking. Even though he's so yellow. He can sneak around so good, no one sees him. I can see him, 'cause he's my boy. He can sneak around and nooo one finds him, 'cept me, 'cause he's my boy. He can hide so good, he hid under sshockwave's chest once. Riiiight under his eye, his big purple eye. Bee's so funny, he tells such funny stories. He tells his stories better then me, they're a lot funnier. I'm not good at funny stories. He's really good at it. He's really good at lots of things. Bee's so cool. I'm so happy he's here, he's so cool and funny and nice and cool. And he fights real good too, he's so cool. he once- Bee once punched my ex once, right in the face. Riiight in the kisser, just, boosh. My ex sucks, Bee's so cool. I like him, he's my boy. An-and he taught himself how to do aaaaall the cool things he does. He didn't have anyone to teach him, he did it all by himself. All alone... I wish I met him sooner, when he was small. He says he was really cute when he was small and I want to see him small. I like him big though, he's really fun when he's big. He's- *Sobs* He's my booooy, and I love him so muuuuch.

This continues for hours. Luckily he never drinks so no has to suffer through this.

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If you thought Optimus was the Serial Adopter, you'd be wrong. It's Bumblebee. No bot is safe from his clutches. He scoops up family members like a pelican scoops fish. Optimus is barely aware of how many family members he technically has, he stopped keeping track a long time ago.

Bumblebee: *Bursting into the room dragging some bot he was on an extended mission with* OPTIMUS, I GOT ATTACHED AGAIN YOU'VE GOT ANOTHER FAMILY MEMBER

Optimus: *Not looking up from his data pad* That's great, son, go put it with the rest.

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Optimus would be such a good grandparent. In the future, after the war ends, Bumblebee comes into possession of a kid; whether he finds someone and takes them under his wing or he just fucking makes one, I don't know nor care, but he gets a kid. And when he introduces them to Optimus, Optimus just fucking melts. He was already a huge softie before but he's so much worse now. He goes full grandma mode. He has snacks in his pockets (or whatever bots have) that he sneaks to the kid every time he sees them. He gives them money at random. You best believe he would destroy anything that even looked at his grandbaby wrong (Bee: Optimus, stop attacking the door. Optimus, the door just bumped them, they're fine. Dad stop, omp(rimus))

The "Bee finds a kid and both of them get attached and now are a family" is the funnier option. Because the kid knows who these guys are, they saved Cybertron. The kid's still getting used to having Bee as their guardian, so when they meet the 13th Prime: Holder of the Matrix of Leadership, Savior of Cybertron, they don't expect Dotting Grandparent Extraordinaire.

Bumblebee: and this is Optimus Prime. He's your Grandpa.

The kid : *nervous* He's my what?

Optimus: *on the verge of tears* mY grAnDbABy-

The "Bee made a kid" version is still pretty funny.

Bumblebee: *Exasperated* Optimus, give me my child back.

Optimus: *violently crying* nO, It'S mY bAbY nOW.

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Imagine, if you will, Optimus and Bumblebee sitting on a roof together, not talking, not touching, just watching the sun set. Just enjoying the silence together, maybe with some energon to go with it. Because they get it, oh they get it. Sometimes you just need to be alone with someone. That good mutual respect and love from a found family that understands you. this is why I need bee to be an adult, I need both of them to be hurting and find some comfort in each other, to find solace in each other, to be a family and to be equals, is that too much to ask?

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A list of things Bumblebee is allowed to get away with:

Interrupting Meetings to Tell Optimus Something, important or not (hi dad)

Casually touching the Usually Touch Adverse Optimus (Physical affection ftw)

Calling Optimus out on his self-sacrificial bullshit (you're going to see the medics and you're going to like it, old man)

Using the three points above to drag Optimus into the Medbay by force (Ratchet is so smug about this)

Getting Optimus to do something fun and relaxing (father son bonding time, as Bee says.)

Swearing aggressively (for everyone else it's unprofessional, for Bee its therapeutic. He stretches this excuse as far as it goes)

Making Insulting comments about others to their face (look they deserve it if the Perpetually Friendly Bumblebee is saying it)

Talking about Megatron (Usually team prime avoids talking about Megsy outside of war related convos out of respect for Optimus's history with him. Bumblebee does not give a shit, Megatron is a bitch and he's going to make his opinions known (Everyone thinks it's funny dw))

Illegal activities (this fucker street races in every universe, you think he isn't doing shit like this on the daily?)

Murder

Stealing/Sneaking snacks (he shares with Optimus)

Making jokes about Optimus being his dad (he thinks it's funny bc they're not related and they met like 6 years ago. Optimus explodes with emotion every time bc you consider me good enough to be your dad?)

Bee is a fucking menace, Optimus loves him so much.

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Misc. funny word vomit I came up with that have no context, reason, or sense

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Optimus is working at a desk focusing on some data pads. A tiny energon cube flies into frame, bouncing off Optimus's forehead and landing on the desk. Optimus grabs the cube and eats it without looking up from the datapad. A few minutes pass, another energon cube flies and bounces off Optimus's head. He eats it without looking. Bumblebee is sitting off to the side in the room with Optimus with a bag of energon snacks, periodically throwing one at the distracted Prime. This is Bee's and Ratchet's newest scheme to get Optimus to actually eat, and it's working splendidly. (Actually, Bumblebee originally was throwing the energon onto the desk, but over time he got bored and started just throwing the cubes directly at Optimus. He hasn't noticed any of the cubes hitting him at all, so Bee's started trying to do trick shots.)

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Bumblebee?"

"Absolutely, now throw me."

"Alright... Three, two, one- Ngha!"

*distant loud metal slam*

"..."

*distantly* "I'm good! We're in business!"

*quietly* "oh thank primus..."

*distantly* "Okay, I'm done. I'm coming back down."

"Wait-"

*distantly* "Hup!"

*loud crashing metal noises*

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It's early morning, everyone got back to base late the night before. Everyone is tired. Optimus is sitting at the table in the common room, slowly drinking a cube of energon. His eyes are half open and bleary. Bumblebee is beside him, head in his hand, dozing. Bee's head falls from his hand and slams onto the table. Optimus doesn't even blink at the noise, just takes a sip of energon.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Bumblebee takes a lot of pictures. Mostly of his team. He's pretty sneaky about it too, usually just taking a capture from his visual feed and saving it to his personal datapad. And at a glance none of the pictures are all that special, captures of a group of bots hanging out between missions, selfies of Bee and company on missions, drunken mishaps, quiet moments, he's got this really funny one of Cliffjumper stuck in a storage closet, but Bee keeps all these photos out of sight. The others are aware of his habit but they never see most of the photos, they never ask. Bee only opens his photos folder when ever he has a quiet moment alone and just scrolls through, reminiscing. His favorites are the ones where he caught someone's genuine smile. Sometimes they're in the background of a larger group shot, or it's just them smiling at Bee in conversation. He's got a lot of Optimus's smile. Optimus doesn't smile a lot, but he always seems to smile when Bee's around. Bee's proud that he can do that for him.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

this could literally be anyone on team prime: *teasing* You playing favorites, Prime? Giving Bumblebee all this special treatment is making the rest of us feeling left out.

Optimus: You all treat him the exact same way I do.

again, literally anyone on team prime: ... Touché, Boss bot, touché...

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

After spending an extended period of time in close proximity to Megatron (for what ever reason), Bumblebee and Optimus talk.

Bee: You had terrible taste in partners.

Optimus: *sighs*

Bee: Physically, I can see the appeal, but everything else is a wild thing to say yes to.

Optimus: ...

Bee: His personality, his interests- just why none of that clocked you onto how fragged up he would be is beyond me.

Optimus: ........

Bee: You're not stupid, I hope that your next partner will be leagues better than him. Ratchet maybe, oh or Elita, they would make great partners (and even better step-parents), or maybe-

Optimus: CanwePleasestoptalkingaboutmylovelife??

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Bumblebee: If you get back together with Megatron I'm disowning you.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

BB: This is... so dumb.

OP: The higher I am the better I can see.

BB: You can- You can fly.

OP: Hush now Bumblebee! I am searching...

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk man, brain rot hits something different when I think about it for long periods of time

[the-chickenshit-oddity]

you ever read a fic where a character canonically speaks like a massive snob, all fancy and what not, and you can see the author trying so hard to match it, but they're just using fancy synonyms of normal words in a sentence where those synonyms do not work at all, and all you can feel is a deep sense of 'good on you for trying, honey'?

[torgawl]

never thought i'd see people try to argue or analyse wriothesley's murder in regards to his personality. i think people are missing the point. the situation has nothing to do with him and has everything to do with an extremely traumatic environment that made a small boy think the only solution so save himself and the people he cared about was to take the life of his abusers. it's not supposed to be rational, it wasn't premeditated, it wasn't about getting away with it. if you read his description of the murder you can see how out of it he was. his goal was to protect himself and his siblings and that's what he did. that's why he admitted to the crime so easily and why he is keen to associate the fortress as a rebirth place. he was just young, lost and traumatised and that's about it when it comes to the extension of it all.

[brainfullofbees]

.

[egophiliac]

Hello ! I positively adore the running joke of Idia unknowingly finding Lilia to be the coolest guy ever whenever he doesn't know it's him, like when Silver described his father, or obviously with muscle red. I can't say what'd be funnier, Idia finding out his online best friend is actually Lilia, resident spooky hyper fairy; or them both never finding out, and it'd become even more ridiculous as time goes on. How do you think it'll play out ? You're always so on point

(Also, though it makes sense, I'm still devastated bat boy didn't get a ticket for the Halloween skeleton train : ( does anyone mentions him at some point ? Like how he'd have fit right in with all those Halloween town little freaks, and how he'd have impressed them with his spooks and scared techniques; after all he's been every Briar Valley's children worst fear on Halloween for centuries. I'm on the eng server and I didn't wanna spoil myself by watching the whole thing on youtube)

Have a nice day !

you and me both, Idia and Lilia being oblivious online BFFs (+ Idia being incredibly intimidated any time Silver brings up his jock gamer dad) is my favorite running joke/subplot. 🤝 it's SO good, to the point where I also am unsure if I actually want it to ever be resolved or not...maybe, like, as a post-canon stinger or something? everyone's standing around covered in overblot ink, and Idia and Lilia's phones go off at the same time...

(legit I do think this is part of why Idia couldn't be present for Lilia's dream, because for some reason Lilia decided he was going to just. embody his past self online. he probably quotes his own battle strategies or whatever in the middle of boss fights. Idia didn't pick up on the whole "oh how weird that we both live on a super remote island" thing, but he would spend thirty seconds listening to General Lilia describing siege warfare and be like "w-wait")

all that aside, however it does end up happening, I do see Lilia being very blasé and all "oh! cool!" about it. y'know, taking it very much in stride! and Idia...very much not.

(can't tell if tumblr is going to chew this into illegibility or not, this will be a fun surprise ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ)

as for Lilia sadly missing out on Halloweentown shenanigans...he does get one little mention as part of an offhand reference to the light music club, but so far no one has brought up how this basically is just Lost In the Book of Liliatown (Sebek's been too busy yelling about not getting to be in the same group as Malleus). 😔 honestly though, it's probably for the best that he got left out, because he would just settle right in and refuse to ever leave. canon would shatter. we would miss out on all the delightful angst of episode 7 because Lilia is too busy eating poisonous shrubbery inbetween practicing his very best screams, and no one can pull him away from it.

(I can hope for a sequel next year though...)

[dwaekkicidal]

Idk if your asks are still open, but I have a recommendation...

Where it's like a poly with two of the members, and they're arguing over which fingers to use on you. (While actively demonstrating)

(Ex. One member is a firm believer of using Pointer/middle finger. While the other prefers middle/ring finger) idk if it makes sense lol

A possible quote "Who the hell told you how to use those fingers"

poly asks have my heart i need MOAR. thank u :3

VocalRacha x Fingering Argument

~500 words | warnings: fem!reader, fingering, (1) pvssy + thigh slap (im sorry i cant help myself), kinda meandom vocalracha, mentions of being tied up

So the first two who really came to mind were Seungmin and Jeongin. And it would SOOO start off as a random argument between them 😭 I won't write a full fic about it for this ask but I'll write a little drabble of sorts

❥ It would happen one of the times you leave them unattended at your apartment. Maybe you had to run out to grab food or wanted to run to the corner store on your own. You're gone for no more than an hour and they still managed to get on the topic of sex and fingering. (probably due to an nsfw meme one of them found/one of the boys found and sent to a group chat)

❥ Bombard you the second you walk in the door. "Jagi, which fingers do you prefer when we fuck you?" & "Puppyyyy~ Tell him I'm right. I know your pussy better than him, right?" Front door wide open and all lol

❥ They argue about it through the whole night until you inevitably get sick of it and just tell them it's all the same. Which, to your dismay, only ends in you in the bedroom with them both between your legs. If you think it's all the same then they feel the need to experiment.

❥ Minnie's most likely gonna be mean to both of you during the whole thing. Starts with a swift "Sit the fuck still or else I'll tie you down." to you and a "Who the fuck taught you that?!? Paboya." to Jeongin

❥ They'd try to do it by taking turns at first. Seungmin lets Jeongin go first and lets him try to "explain" why his way is better but gets fidgety and eventually pulls the other boy's wrist away from you. So Seungmin forces his turn like that and all goes smoothly while he tries to explain his way.

❥ All until Jeongin gets antsy and now they just go back and forth, shoving their fingers deep into your cunt while they bicker back and forth about whose way is better.

❥ They tried to get your opinion on the matter, but after 20+ minutes of them unintentionally edging you and accidentally bullying your G-spot, you're sort of zoned out. A little "fucked dumb" if you will

❥ Jeongin's fingers are still in you when they realize you aren't paying attention and he curves them meanly into your G-spot in an attempt to get your attention. When that doesn't work Seungmin will land a harsh slap to your folds and/or to your thigh

❥ When they find out that you haven't been paying attention the whole time they'll roll their eyes and tell you to focus because they "have no plans to stop until you give us an answer."

❥ At this point it's not so much about what fingers are better, they just want to be right no matter what. Which! Inevitably turns this a competition on who can make you cum faster with their fingers and/or them edging you until you tell them whose way is "better"

❥ You're having a whole lot of orgasms that night. Almost all of which are pulled from their fingers and, depending on how much you toss and turn, may or may not end with you being held down forcefully by whoever isn't knuckles deep into your cunt 🤭

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina @rylea08

@grandma143 @caught-in-the-afterglow @yaorzu-blog @jabmastersupriseee

[brunettemarionette]

Idiots Together

💜 pairing. Eddie Munson x GN!Reader

🔮 summary. Eddie's been acting weird and you confront him but when he blames his attitude on being '"tired" you don't believe him.

🌙 tw/ none. just fluffy goodness.

✨ wc. 1.5k

You've noticed it for a while now—Eddie's been acting strange. Since the two of you started hanging out more outside your usual group alone, there's been this weird tension in the air.

It's not the usual kind of weird, either. It's not like the typical Eddie Munson weird, where he rambles about Dungeons & Dragons or talks about the latest Metallica album with that wild look in his eyes.

No, this was different.

Right now, you're sitting on the worn couch in Eddie's trailer, your legs pulled up underneath you as you watch him pace back and forth across the living room.

He's restless, his fingers fidgeting with the rings on his hands, and you can't help but feel like there's something he's not telling you. He hasn't cracked a single joke in the last twenty minutes, which is unheard of.

You lean back into the cushions, crossing your arms. "Alright, spill it. What's going on with you?"

Eddie freezes mid-step, his back turned to you. He's been avoiding eye contact for most of the night, and now he just stands there, staring at the ground.

For a second, you think maybe he didn't hear you, but then you see his shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath.

"I don't know what you mean," he mutters, but there's something in his voice—nervousness, maybe? You've never heard Eddie sound nervous before, not like this.

"You've been acting weird," you say, cutting to the point. "Like, really weird. You're not joking around, can't sit still, and won't even look at me. So, what's up? Did I do something wrong?"

That last part hangs in the air, and you instantly regret saying it. Of course, this couldn't be your fault, but still… part of you wonders if Eddie's mad at you. Maybe you've said or done something without realizing it.

Eddie finally turns to face you, and the look in his eyes catches you off guard. There's something raw in them, something vulnerable like he's been holding back a dam of emotions, and it's on the verge of breaking. "You didn't do anything wrong," he says quickly. "It's me."

That's not the answer you expected, and you raise an eyebrow, trying to make sense of what he's saying. "What do you mean it's you?"

He sighs, running a hand through his messy hair. "I haven't been sleeping much, okay? I'm, like, sleep-deprived out of my mind right now."

You tilt your head, not convinced. Sure, Eddie always looks a little rough around the edges, but he doesn't seem like he's about to collapse from lack of sleep.

There's something more, and you can tell he's avoiding it. "Eddie," you say softly, "I know you. This isn't just about not getting enough sleep. Come on, talk to me."

There's a long pause where Eddie stares at you like he's debating whether to say whatever he's been holding back. Then, suddenly, the dam breaks.

"I always had the biggest crush on you," he blurts out, and your heart skips a beat. "I've had this stupid, massive crush on you for, like, forever. And I don't know how to act normal around you right now because I'm freaking out, okay? That's why I'm being weird. It's not you, it's me. I just… I don't know how to do this."

You stare at him, your mind racing to catch up with what he just said. Eddie Munson—your best friend, the guy who's always been the dorky, playful one who's never taken anything seriously—has a crush on you?

"Eddie…" you start with a slight whisper, but he interrupts you before you can say anything.

"I know it's crazy," he says, clearly frustrated with himself, running both hands through his hair. "I shouldn't have said anything. I don't want to make things weird between us. But I'm tired, and I just couldn't keep it to myself anymore. You're my best friend and deserve to know the truth."

You're still trying to process it all, but the one thing that stands out to you is the look in Eddie's eyes. He's scared—…scared of how you will react, scared of losing you, or whatever this could mean for your friendship.

And in that moment, you realize something: maybe you've always felt something for him, too, but you never let yourself acknowledge it. You get up from the couch and take a step towards him. Eddie watches you carefully, his heart in his throat, waiting for whatever comes next.

"Eddie," you say softly, "you don't have to be weird around me. It's okay." You reach out and take his hand, squeezing it gently. The relief that washes over his face is immediate, and he finally smiles for the first time all night.

Maybe things will be a little different now, but you have a feeling it will be okay. After all, Eddie's always been there for you, and now it's your turn to be there for him—no matter where this might lead.

Eddie stares down at your intertwined hands, his fingers curling instinctively around yours like he's afraid to let go. You can see the tension start to melt from his shoulders, but his eyes still hold that uncertainty—the kind that makes your heart ache just a little.

"You really mean that?" he asks, voice barely above a whisper as if he's still trying to make sense of what just happened.

You nod, offering him a smile. "Yeah, I do. I mean… you're my best friend, Eddie. And maybe…" You hesitate for a moment, feeling the warmth spread through your chest, "maybe I've been feeling the same way. I just didn't realize it until now."

The words hang between you, and Eddie is completely still for the first time tonight. His dark eyes widen, searching your face for any hint of doubt. But there isn't any. The more you say it, the more certain you are—it's like all the pieces are finally clicking into place.

He breathes, almost like he's been holding it in for hours. "Wait—really? You're not just saying that to make me feel better?" His puppy dog eyes stare at you as if begging you not to break his heart.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "No, Eddie. I'm not just saying it. I've been thinking about it, and I think maybe I've always felt something for you, too. I just… I guess I was scared of messing things up."

His expression softens, and that familiar mischievous glint returns to his eyes, a hint of the Eddie you know and love. "So, what you're saying is, we've both been idiots this whole time?"

"Basically," you say, grinning. "but I like to think we've always been a couple of idiots." Eddie chuckles, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "Well, then, I guess we're both idiots together."

You step closer, feeling the warmth of his body next to yours. There's no awkwardness now, no tension, just the two of you standing in his tiny living room. Like this has always been where you were meant to be.

And then, without warning, Eddie gently cups your cheek with his free hand, his rings cool against your skin. His eyes meet yours, and there's no hesitation this time. Slowly, carefully, he leans in.

The kiss is soft and tentative, as if he's still afraid this might all be a dream. But the moment your lips meet, it feels like the most natural thing in the world—like you've been waiting for this without even realizing it.

When you pull away, Eddie's grinning like a kid, his eyes brighter than you've ever seen them. "Well," he says, his voice low, "I wasn't expecting today to end like this."

You laugh, feeling light, like a weight you didn't know you were carrying has been lifted. "Neither was I, but… I think I'm okay with it." he grins, kissing you again as you sigh contently. "More than okay with it…"

Eddie's smile widens, and he pulls you into his arms, holding you close. It's a perfect, quiet moment, just you and him, surrounded by the familiarity of his trailer. The world outside doesn't matter, not right now.

"Hey," he murmurs into your hair, "I know we might not have everything figured out yet, but… I'm really glad I told you."

You look up at him, heart swelling with affection, something that's not new to you. You've always held a level of affection for the wild-haired dungeon master. "Me too, Eddie."

And in that moment, you know you'll figure it out together, whatever comes next. Because you've always been there for each other, and now, as more than just friends, nothing could feel more right.

As Eddie presses another soft kiss to your forehead, you can't help but smile. Maybe things have changed, but it's definitely in the best way possible.

[waitineedaname]

i was thinking my little thoughts while falling asleep last night, and a concept occurred to me: what if binghe learned about the system not from shen qingqiu, but from shang qinghua

look, he likes shang qinghua alright. he's pretty disinterested in p much anyone who isn't shen qingqiu, but on the list of People Luo Binghe Tolerates, shang qinghua is relatively high. he gave him advice on wooing sqq, after all, and sqq likes his company, so binghe tolerates his shang-shishu

but the thing is, shang qinghua is a spy. has been for decades. binghe knows this. really, everyone knows this at this point, which isn't a great look for a spy, but still. and since shang qinghua is a spy for mobei-jun, who is a subordinate for luo binghe, then technically shang qinghua is also working for him, but you don't get to the position of demon emperor without a healthy amount of suspicion for everyone in your court

so he decides to test shang qinghua a little bit. nothing major, just a little poking around in his dreams. he starts out with a subtle touch, just sifting through his memories. most of it is what he expected. he sees his time on an ding as a disciple and then later as peak lord, he sees him working for mobei-jun. he sees mobei-jun in some compromising situations, which he files away for later, and then sees him in an entirely different flavor of compromising situations, and binghe immediately decides to act like he never saw that

then he decides to take a more direct approach and starts nudging the dreams in other directions, to see how he might react to certain scenarios, test his loyalty. he expects shang qinghua to act cowardly, or bluff his way through a situaton, maybe even draw his sword if pushed far enough

what he doesn't expect is for shang qinghua to frown at the changes luo binghe made and go "I didn't write it like this"

what

binghe is so bewildered by that response that he loses his grip on the dream for a second, and before he knows it, shang qinghua has spun the dream scenario back into the way the scene originally played out. he steps back and looks satisfied. "there we go," he says. "that's how it went. you know, if I'd known I'd be dealing with this scene myself, I would've written it differently"

what the hell does that mean?

fascinated, luo binghe continues to test him. most of the time, when he toys with someone's dream, they're completely unaware of the changes. shang qinghua, despite not seeming aware that he's lucid dreaming, seems very aware of how each scene should go. except for, strangely, many of the scenes that binghe himself was in. binghe pulls up one from his disciple days, one of the times he remembered shang qinghua coming to qing jing on some errand. he hadn't even changed anything yet, had just let the dream version of his younger self launch himself at shizun in a tacklehug, but shang qinghua tsks and takes the reins from him before he can make any edits. "sorry bing-ge, but that was just way too out of character," shang qinghua says. the dream copy of luo binghe's younger self is sent further away, watching the peak lords with a sullen gaze. he's skinnier than binghe remembers being at this age, and one of his eyes is swollen with a purple bruise. that doesn't make any sense, luo binghe thinks. he hadn't been beaten on qing jing peak for years at this point.

the shen qingqiu beside shang qinghua in the dream stands with his back straight as a ruler, and when his gaze lands on luo binghe, he sneers behind his fan. shang qinghua sighs. "cucumber-bro really wasn't as good of an actor as he thought he was. he's way too soft to ever seem like the original goods."

alarmed, luo binghe dispels the dream and steps out of it entirely. sure, he knows shen qingqiu's personality changed almost overnight when he had that qi deviation. everyone knew that. he avoided questioning it much, unwilling to look a gift horse in the mouth when it meant having a shizun that cared for him

but shang qinghua. shang qinghua seems to know something more about shen qingqiu's personality change. something he's not sharing. luo binghe didn't like the idea that one of his subordinates could be hiding something as vital as this from him

well, this had been a test of his spy's loyalties, hadn't it? perhaps he should make a visit to an ding. he had some questions.

[wyldthots]

Mommy's Day Off Pt. 2

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/wyldthots/761095102467833856/mommys-day-off?source=share

This picks up directly after Part 1. It will make more sense, but you don't have to read that one for this to make sense. Nothing but porn. Minors do not interact. TW: incest, mommy x daughter, strap-on, drugging, weed intox, baby girl doesn't know she's been fed drugs.

After the candy mommy gave me, time stretched in a funny way. For all I know, mine and mommy's day could have already come to a close. I was quite the view, I'm sure. My eyes were clouded and unfocused, my breathing labored, and my swollen pussy was still spread wide and on display for my Mommy.

"You did so good, baby." Mommy grabbed under my knees and pushed them out and down. A shocked gasp left me when a glob of spit landed on my clit and she roughly rubbed it in. Mommy scoffed at my reaction. "You know, they say that weed either makes you hungry or horny. I guess we know which you are, slutty girl. I think another edible will do you good..." Her words don't process in my brain. I'm too focused on my throbbing pussy. She feeds me another weird-tasting candy but I swallow it to make mommy happy. I love it when she's happy with me...

My head is so floaty and my eyes can't stay open... Ugh, my little pussy feels so good with the little circles I keep tracing on my clit. But my hands are on the couch by my side? My eyes slowly shift to my core still spread wide. It's Mommy. My eyes travel up from her fingers rubbing my pussy to her other hand stroking a strapon. Mommy sticks her slick-covered fingers in her mouth and moans at my taste.

"Oh, mommy isn't done yet..." She starts dragging her cock through my messy folds. "Baby, have you ever had anyone inside of you? Other than mommy's fingers..." She slides 2 fingers inside and massages my pussy wall. My mouth drops open and my head falls back as I moan loudly. Mommy laughs at my reaction. "I didn't think so, but don't worry. Mommy's gonna be so, so nice to her baby."

I blink my eyes but they struggle to open again. When they do, I am face to face with her big blue cock. She smiles as she guides it into my mouth. I have never done anything like this, but if it will make mommy happy, I'll do it. I shove her cock in as far as it'll go but I gag and have to pull myself off quickly. I look up at mommy with tears in my eyes, hoping that she won't be mad at me for messing up.

"You're okay, baby. Try again. Take it slow. You make mommy so proud." I grab her cock with one hand while the other moves up her body to cup one of her titties. I moan as I slowly bob back and forth on her cock. Mommy's fingers thread in my hair and tighten. Then she yanks me forward by my hair so that I choke on her fat cock before she pulls her hips back and thrusts again. I choke and gag on my mommy's fat cock until she finally throws me off. I land roughly against the couch but Mommy moves faster than I can think. She grabs under my thighs and yanks my body forward so my ass is hanging off the couch.

"Time for round two. That second candy should be kicking in aaaaannnyyyy second now..." Mommy whispers in my ear before tweaking one of my nipples and sucking on the other before she swapped sides. "Time for me to fuck your pretty pussy. Mommy is going to pop that cherry of yours." She pulls away while she lines her cock up with my dripping hole. "Big breath, love. And out."

She waited for me to follow her direction before gliding her cock into me and stretching my pussy. I thought she would stop and let me get used to her size. That's what they do in all of the stories I read... Not my mommy, though. She didn't stop until her hips rested against the backs of mine. My pussy was spasming and clamping on the large intrusion inside of me. Mommy smiles and pushes on the bulge in my tummy. I moan out and grab at her face to kiss my mommy. I just needed to be close to her.

"Baby, Mommy is so close to you. Do you need closer?" I didn't know I had said anything out loud but I nodded through my teary eyes. Mommy shoved herself deeper into my sopping pussy before sloppily kissing me. She didn't hold back while she pistoned into me. Every thrust forced a yelp out of me. Time was still stretching weirdly, but the next thing I knew I was bouncing on mommy's lap. Mommy fucked up into me while I ground my pussy down and my ass clapped against her thighs. I pull mommy's mouth from my nipple with a pop and I shove my tongue down her throat. I can't remember if this is happening or if this is the best dream I have ever had... My pussy clenches down on Mommy's hard, thick cock while I have the most intense orgasm ever. I collapse on top of Mommy but I can feel her thrust up into me, forcing me to ride her through my orgasm.

"Damn, baby. Look at how messy and puffy your baby cunnie is." Mommy cooed to me as she pulled out of my gaping cunt. "Fuck, this is so hot. Those pot gummies really hit you hard and fast. It's not even noon yet. We are just getting started, baby. Now Mommy needs to teach you how to return the favor..." I can't even open my eyes, but I can feel Mommy lapping at my pussy again.

"Messy girl. Mommy will clean you up while you catch your breath."

[kth1fics]

Twisted Fate (M) | MYG

Twisted Fate

⟶ Pairing: Min Yoongi x Female Reader (Y/N) ⟶ Genre: Oneshot, Smut, Rated R | 18+ ⟶ Tropes: Vampire!Yoongi, Strangers to Lovers, Royalty AU, Supernatural AU, Fantasy AU ⟶ WC: 4.7k+ ⟶ Warnings: blood (obviously), some degrading, biting / blood drinking, breast play, choking, sparkling jealousy, unprotected sex, there’s a third party at play, some bondage, fingering, oral (f), threats, reader has a nickname. ⟶ Beta: n/a (no beta just complete yolo - if it doesn't make sense don't worry about it) ⟶ Summary: A slice of vampiric lifestyle here inside the Briarwood Manor walls after you ultimately picked the Lord you wish to serve. ⟶ Author’s Note: I actually feel very bad that most of all my hosted collaborations are incomplete. It happens though, ya know? This Yoongi is a part of the Briarwood Manor Collab, hosted by myself! I never expected to be writing this fic, honestly. But I hope it does well and is good enough! Please leave any feedback or comments on a reblog, post, or even my ask box! ⟶ Song Recommendation: Sweet Sacrifice by Evanescence

Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi

“Hello, puppet, did you miss me?”

The low mischievous voice whispers a chill in your ear. His cold hand comes to rest on your bare shoulder, stroking your soft skin. If anyone were to see they’d think his touch is sincere and tender, a loving gesture to greet his lover, but they’d be so very wrong. 

A puppet is what you are to him, nothing more. To serve however he sees fit. The nickname is quick out of his mouth the moment you pick him under the shine of a blood moon. You aren’t so sure what drew you to him in the first place. Maybe his aura played a trick on you, taunted you with his beauty and looks. An elegant and stoic composure mixed in one. The most unresponsive to the personal sacrifice (you) during the ritual.

You still remember the lifeless blink of his eyes when he first looked at you. From there you should have known he didn’t see the life inside of you. The vampire whose fangs ghost over your neck and haunt your nights is far from a lover. He’s an obligation. A duty. The choice you were forced to make among the six other princes.

Some nights you question what would have been if you picked someone different. How would the others treat their Church’s generous gift? Would you be more than a puppet?

His hand sends a visible chill through you. The sickly sweet voice of Lord Yoongi that you dread has returned after weeks away. There’s no doubt in your mind that there’s a toothy-grin widening on his face when he inhales your scent. You were just starting to enjoy that temporary freedom from his demanding fangs. Oh, how you wish he was gone just a while longer.

Yoongi had been away visiting a nearby kingdom to the West for business. Both Lord Namjoon and Lord Hoseok accompanied him. You know very little of their endeavors. Council work if anything. Matters that a blood-bag, such as yourself, has no business knowing. You are thankful for the pleasant peace of the manor while you had it.

You remain quiet, but your heart pounds in your chest. Anyone in an earshot can probably hear it pumping through your veins. Yoongi sends a full attack to your nervous system and he hardly touches you.

“Let’s pretend that’s excitement,” he comments as a nimble finger runs along your neck.

“H-How was the trip?” You ignore his first question completely. Faking a soft smile to please him.

“Nonsense,” he mutters as his mouth hovers the crook of your next. Your body already expects the snag of his teeth any second now. “Take off that pathetic excuse of a dress the servants dressed you in. I want you in my quarters. Now,” Yoongi whispers with demand.

You feel that there’s no room for objections, you’ve learned the hard way once or twice before. Disobeying Yoongi only makes things harder for you.

The first step you take halts as you feel his hand tug at the lace to your bodice. It snaps easily, loosening the material for an easier escape. Yoongi trails you, watches you with a burning hunger, as one by one you shed your clothes on your way to his room. 

There’s no shame walking down the corridors of the manor, you’ve gotten used to these trips. Seen many others in the same position. It’s the way of life here.

Yoongi’s room is one of the furthest from the grand room. It requires walking the stairs and passing several other spaces before reaching the crystal knob of his door. On occasion, his impatience forces you into the music room where he lays you on the piano lid and does exactly what one can imagine. 

Although, tonight doesn’t feel like one of those nights.

“You haven’t answered me yet,” his voice hums, “did you miss me?”

You don’t loath the man, but you know what he does to you. How you are easily frail compared to him and fear slipping up. The sharpness in his fangs and in his words and the strength in his grip and demeanor. You do not miss his beastly moods when he sucks your blood savagely and brings you to the brink of tears. To where you fall far too weak to put up a fight.

There are no soft sides to Yoongi, not from what you’ve witnessed anyway. When he’s finished with you, you’re sure he’ll do it with no remorse.

You want to answer truthfully. Saying ‘no’ is on the very tip of your tongue. Maybe his absence did make you feel useless in a way. But you also felt relief by being away from the ruthless need of your body. And for that, you feel a tang of guilt. Making you question how you actually feel.

“Yes, my Lord,” you speak sweet yet flat. “Your presence was greatly missed.”

Finally, you’re met in the center of his room. The still cool air swallows you as you stand there awaiting his next command. The click to the door shutting behind you resounds out loud. It leaves you trapped inside the vampire’s chamber.

“Of course you did,” he smirks to himself as he slowly undos his cufflinks. His eyes continue to scan you, admiring the shape of your body and nudity. “Go on. Sit.”

You see the nod of his head from your peripheral as you stare blankly at the dark silk comforter. A canopy hangs from the ceiling above, draping thick charcoal black curtains. There’s a litter of candles scattered throughout, none of which are lit. You’re granted very little light from the cascading moon from outside the tall paneled windows. It’s darker than usual due to the storm clouds. 

Everyday his chamber is cleaned and dusted even when left unoccupied. Yoongi likes his stuff maintained, presetine if he could. If one thing is out of alignment he will notice it. They have workers for several reasons, many for pure enjoyment and food.

As you take a seat on the side of the bed, Yoongi hovers. He stands close, taking your chin in his hand and tilting your head up to look at him. His grip is menacing, you’re aware of how easily a man with his strength can break your bones.

“Whore,” he comments as he looks down on you.

His voice cuts through you like a knife. Clear and loud. He watches the way your eyes flicker in shock and widen. Heat plasters to your face as his grip tightens.

“Do you think I don’t know?” He huffed a laugh. “Why don’t you tell me what I'm speaking about?”

“Y-Yoongi I –”

He slips a finger into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue to prevent you from forming any more words.

“Take my name out of your dirty mouth or I'll do it for you,” he threatens.

“I’m sorry!,” you attempt to say out of pure reaction. 

Yoongi leans in flashing you a smile, revealing his sharpened canines. His eyes turn a blazing ruby red, popping out of his stark black hair.

“I’ll release your tongue and when the second I do, I expect you to tell me.”

He waits for your acknowledgement before his fingers find their way back to cradling your chin.

“Lord Jimin,” the name falls out of your mouth just as your eyes fall to the ground. “I didn’t know what I was supposed to do,” you fester up.

How could you? With no guidance from the Lord you picked. He left you at the manor with very little discussion. There’s unspoken rules you’re still learning to this day. How are you supposed to know what Lord Yoongi wants when he doesn’t speak the words into existence?

“You’re not his,” Yoongi states. He rests one knee on the edge of the bed beside you. His other hand traces up your arm lightly all the way to the back of your neck. With his position, he brings your head back up to look at him. “I don’t care what he says. You picked me.”

“He would have killed me if I denied his advances,” you mention. Confusion and panic swells deeply in your eyes. “He only just –”

Yoongi snorts, displeased beyond belief. “He wouldn’t unless he wanted a war. He knows you belong to me and took the opportunity to take you when I was gone.”

“–Just bit me!,” you managed to get out.

“Hm?” Yoongi’s eyebrow quirks.

“He only just bit me. I swear there is nothing more!”

You plead with your eyes. You’ve never wanted to upset him in any way. The role you play is one you take seriously. If you were murdered by a fellow ally of your Lord, that would have madden him further, no?

Yoongi’s touch turns featherlight, nothing compared to how he touches you when he lays with you. Rough and demanding. Guiding you exactly how and when he wants it. It’s what you’re expecting from him.

He leans down close, slotting his head next to your neck as he breathes in your scent. “I’ll keep you locked up in my room.” Yoongi’s lips touch against your skin, you can’t help but shiver. “Spread your legs.”

Yoongi’s cool fingers ghost your core, leaving traces as they pass each inch. You feel the threat of his fangs against you, making your body heat up quickly. It is safe to say that you do miss the way he touches you. Feeling his grip all over your body, it brings you to places you’ve never – and will never – admit.

“But I'll have no property of mine” – he continues with his earlier words – “be shared like a whore on the street.”

You politely move your head to the side with his hand as direction, bracing for the impact of his teeth. They lightly drag along your jugular until he finds his desired spot before sinking them into your skin.

The feeling hurts like a razor sharp sting as you release a groan. Yoongi’s hand secures you in place as the other presses against your heated core. His fingers slip between your folds, gliding them across your clit and into your pussy. Drawing out the wetness he searches for.

There’s a trickle of blood that breaks through the seam of Yoongi’s lips, dripping down the front of your chest. He’s sloppy, unusual for him. Probably from the weeks away. You stay stagnant, letting Yoongi do as he pleases.

“Lay back,” Yoongi pushes you down before you feel his lips pressing kisses on your thighs. He continues to press two fingers into you while he reaches for your nipple, swirling around the hardening bud.

You close your eyes as you let out a shuddering breath. Your entire body is warming up, aching silently for more. Maybe he misses you?

“Do you want me to touch you more?” The voice is so low you can barely hear it over the heavy rain outside. When his touch does everything to ignite that burning sensation inside, how can you not want more?

“Yes,” you whimper when another kiss lands on your inner thigh. You feel your pussy tighten from the want, the need.

“Yes?” He questions, as his fingers pinch down hard on your nipple. It sends bolting zaps of pain through you, making you yelp at the action.

You feel his plunging fingers curl up inside you and drag against your walls. Your legs move on their own accord, body only reacting to the joyous sensation.

“Oh God, yes! Please touch me!” You plead.

Once your desperate words leave your mouth, he latches onto your clit, sucking the sweet tender bud eagerly. He pairs it well with the pace of his fingers in your aching core, possessive hand roaming your front as his body slots between your legs.

Your curious eyes travel downward to spy Yoongi’s black hair nuzzled between your thighs and feverishly licking at your leaking arousal. It takes everything in you to not place your hands in his hair, you know he doesn’t like being touched. But it looks so soft, so long and pretty. 

“I don’t want you to ever think about being bitten by anyone else,” he growls. “Your blood is mine and mine only.” You feel your leg being lifted enough for Yoongi’s fangs to pierce the skin on your inner thigh.

His words and actions make you whimper. Yoongi’s tongue laps over the bleeding blood on your skin.

“I won’t,” you affirm as you toss your head to the side. Absentmindedly your fingers thread through his hair, it feels like the finest of silks. “I only want you to bite me, Lord Yoongi.”

Your confession pleases him. He replaces his fingers with his tongue, diving it deep into your leaking hole. A moan slips from your mouth while your fingers fasten a lock in his hair. Lewd noises spill into the air from the vampire sucking and licking at your core, devouring the taste of you.

Doing what he says always grants you intense pleasure. Being good tends to satisfy you, you realized that a long time ago. Once Yoongi draws you agonizingly close to a climax, he withdraws his pursuit. Leaving you in a cloud of haze.

‘Is that it?’ you think to yourself. Why the sudden stop? Did you do something wrong?

Yoongi reluctantly pulls from you, forcing your hands off his hair with a sinister smile. Blood and arousal is smeared across his mouth and chin.

“What’s wrong?” you whisper the question.

You’re left huffing and puffing as you feel your orgasm slipping away from you. His menacing stare down doesn’t ease your mind and you feel your body shriveling up from under his scorching red eyes.

“Time to learn your lesson.”

Yoongi manages to pull your body up the bed to the headboard. Fastening two hard metal cuffs to each of your wrists. You’ve been here once before in a playful gig, but the motivation behind Yoongi’s tone sends a shiver to your spine.

You obey, as you should, while the darkness of the drapes shroud around the bed. You’re left with red glowing eyes staring straight down at you once again. His ethereal features, as beautiful as they are, frighten you to say the least. There's anger swirling inside of him. The angel you view Yoongi at shows how the cut of his eyes are deadly, the shape of his jaw is sharp and the curve of his lips stands against the casted shadows of the dark. You feel the anxious fear bubbling up inside your body, a spike of nerves setting aflame.

“What?”

He can read you like a book. Heart pinging higher than the normal rate. A confused quirk of your brows. Even the clearing of your throat and desperate breaths have him understanding your senses. Your body language tells him everything he needs to know about your fear.

“Brianne!” Yoongi snaps his fingers together as he calls upon a servant.

On cue, the door to his room opens and closes. She walks as punctually as ever, hands clasped in front of her apron as she curtsy bows to the vampire.

“My Lord,” she smiles. Paying you no mind as you lay naked and latched to Yoongi’s bed. “How may I aid you?”

“My puppet here is in need of a lesson. Care to participate?”

“It would be an honor,” Brianna bows.

Unspokenly, she begins to shed her clothes piece by piece. Yoongi hums to himself as he does the same. You are left strapped there, witnessing the entire event in confusion.

It’s as if this has been done before. You watch with worry as Brianne steps out of her skirt and pulls out the ties of her hair, allowing it to cascade around her shoulders. She steps toward the bed, eyes nearly lifeless, as she glances at you. There’s several, very visible, bite wounds on her body.

Quickly, Yoongi meets Brianne from behind. His hands guide her atop the mattress as she kneels near your feet. You curl up further, drawing your legs into yourself as your mind races with endless possibilities of what’s about to happen.

“Puppet?”

You flinch, very noticeably, at the bark of your nickname. You hadn’t realized how on edge your nerves are until now.

Yoongi follows behind Brianne, being sure to peer over her shoulder at you with his ruby eyes. Brianne is displayed before you, legs spread apart as she kneels, tits in full view. Yoongi’s crafty and daft hands sliding across her front and touching every piece of her. It’s a taunting scene, mentally riling you up inside.

“I want you to know,” Yoongi begins with a devilish low growl, “How easy it is,” he pushes aside Brianne’s hair to expose her neck, “For us to take a whore.”

Yoongi latches his mouth down on Brianne, forcing a muffled groan out of her throat. He bites, and bites, and bites, until there’s a chain of red leaking down her shoulder and arm. Some meet the mound of her breast, where Yoongi happily is cupping with his own hand while the other is gliding down her front and rubbing circles on her clit.

You watch in shame and fear. Seeing the way Brianne thrives from the mutilating hands and mouth of the Lord. Pleasure crosses her face, pain and ecstasy. She has no embarrassment with the noises that leak out of her. You swear you see her face mocking yours as you turn away.

“Look at me,” you hear the demanding growl of Yoongi.

But the burning heat of anger tingles your face. You fear disobeying him though. It only can make things worse.

“Puppet!” he growls over Brianne’s moans. Yoongi pushes Brianne down on her hands, her head closer to where you curl up against the headboard. “Look at what I am doing!”

You hesitantly glance over, hating the scene you see. Yoongi’s possessive hands scratch Brianne’s back as he lines himself behind her. There’s blood covering his front, smearing down his chest as his mouth gaps open. You squirm uncomfortably. As much as you loathe what’s happening, how your heart is thumping with disbelief and hatred, it bothers you even more that it turns you on.

Yoongi spits down at the junction between Brianna and himself and lathers his cock with his free hand. He slots himself inside her roughly, pulling out a loud moan from Brianne and forcing tears to swell in your eyes.

“Look at me!” He commands again, and this time you stare at his glowing eyes. 

Locked in and afraid to move. Sure you can see Brianne through the edges of your sight, you can see the way Yoongi’s abs flex with each harsh thrust he inflicts on her, the way her audible noises fill the room just like the way Yoongi’s cock fills her pussy.

He keeps his stare with you, eyes threatening. “How do you feel when I choose someone else? To make them feel this good while I feed and fuck them? Do you think you’re so special to go around and give yourself up like Brianne here?” He grunts between breaths, making sure to give Brianne a good ramming as her hips get pulled back into him. 

Yoongi continues to speak to you, “Do you want to end up like this?” He quizzes you again. He forces Brianne to flip over, revealing all those scattered bite marks on her body including his own. He arches her back by holding a hand under her. You can’t help but to flick your eyes down at it.

There’s a burning rage brewing inside of you, watching the way your Lord takes care of another. Bluntly in front of you as well. You don’t think you’re anything special, just a gift from the Church. There’s no doubt in your mind Yoongi has all the freedom to do what he pleases, but you’re mad that you aren’t the option when you were only raised to be such.

You remain silent and fear stricken. There’s upset and anger on your face and he can see that. Pathetically, you are his. You picked this. But desperately you want to only be his.

“No,” you whimper out. There’s a sad tear that rolls down the curve of your cheek.

“‘No’ what?”

There’s thorns forming inside of your throat, digging into it as if your voice doesn’t have freedom.

“No I don’t want this!”

Yoongi continues to thrust into Brianne, but his attention is on you. His hand closes down on her throat, squeezing slowly to prevent airflow.

“Have you learned?” His fingernails begin digging into Brianne and you hear her noticeable gasp. “That a whore is used by many and can be,” – he squeezes firmer, watching Brianne’s hands clasp around his wrist in protest – “killed with no feeling of guilt?”

There’s a gargle replacing the moans in Brianne’s mouth. Her eyes are bloodshot and full of tears. Yoongi pays no attention, he knows what he’s doing. But he keeps his ruby eyes on you, stalking your next actions.

“Yoongi, stop!” You shout with warning, “She’s going to die!”

“So?” His voice is cold.

“Stop!” you plead. “Stop it, stop it, stop it! I get it! I’m sorry! Just stop it!” Each hopeless syllable falling out of your mouth amplifies higher until you shout.

Yoongi finally halts his actions completely, releasing his grip on poor Brianne and pulling out of her. She gasps as her lungs fill with air, hands clutching her throat. Yoongi rolls her over, letting her legs hit the floor beside the bed and commands her to stand.

He analyzes her, wipes away the wet tears from her face before patting the side of her head. “Gather your things,” he beckons. “Please seek Lord Jimin and tell him you are but a gift from me.”

Brianne attempts a hoarse response but her throat is far too fragile to speak. She quickly gathers her belongings and rushes out of the room, holding her throat with a hand the entire time.

As the room falls silent, you can’t help but stare at the naked vampire in front of you. He’s thin, toned, skin milky pale due to his vampiric complexion and lack of sun. Cock stands out, still hardened as a hand runs along its length.

“Never become a whore, puppet. It’ll get you killed.”

Yoongi turns to look back at you, seeing how shriveled up you’ve become. He knows the power he holds and the loyalty you only wish to fulfill. It’s how you are raised. You want to act on your own actions, but Yoongi is the shotcaller. The owner of you.

“I’m only yours,” you state with a nod. 

Like lightning, Yoongi returns to you. Finger’s dipping into your cunt again. He groans with the seeping wet arousal leaking from you, making sure to comment on how you must have been turned on all along. He pushes deep inside your needy walls, stoking and thrusting his fingers at a quick pace almost as if he wants you to cum right then and there. His tongue works on your clit, swirling delicately around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

The pleasure between your legs causes you to tremble, Yoongi’s name falls out of your mouth as you tug on the cuffs chaining you to the bed. You’re beginning to feel the start of your delayed climax from before. Your breaths become shallow pants while you can’t help but ride Yoongi’s mouth desperately.

Your hazy mind takes away your active awareness and forces you to enjoy the senses you hear, feel, smell, taste, and see. Yoongi works his way up past your navel, peppering kisses on his pursuit to your clavicles. His teeth glide over your skin only enough to scratch you as you whimper from the loss of his tongue.

Somehow you end up on your knees and straddling Yoongi’s pelvis. He flipped you quickly to slide himself under you. The chains twist, forcing your wrists together. His hair fans out around his head as he rests on the pillow, eyes lazily looking up at your hanging breasts. You feel the cold hard hands on your hips as he leads you onto his cock, letting you slide against his length and spread your arousal on him.

You use your arm to muffle your moan as he slips his tip inside of you. The promise of his length inside of you makes you eager so you press down. Letting an inch deeper before he pulls you back up to begin the process again.

Yoongi leans up from under you to latch his mouth on one tit, sucking harshly at your nipple before sinking his fangs enough to draw blood. The sting hurts, you whine on the impact as he simultaneously draws your hips down onto him. Stuffing his thick cock inside your tight cunt.

You want to lean on him for support but those blasted chains hold your position high. In reaction, you bite your own arm as you feel the way Yoongi fills you up and feeds on you. The joyous satisfaction you gain from pleasing the Lord is soon to follow.

Yeah, there is no way you wish to be a whore. Yoongi is more than enough.

“You like it. Don’t you, puppet?” Yoongi chuckles. He pulls on your hair sharply, twisting your head to the side to admire his earlier bite mark. “You like being my little puppet and filled up like this, huh?” Yoongi grinds his hips into you, his other hand firmly guiding your body to ride him.

You’re left breathless, painfully in pleasure, but fully enjoying being filled to the brim by his cock. The recklessness of his grip on your hair and bleeding from his beautiful bites. It’s so devilishly good, you could never wish to be anything more than his puppet. 

“Ah, please,” you groan. The sound of skin against skin resonates throughout the darkened room. It’s mingled with your beautiful cries and his low guttural grunts. 

“I love it,” you confess.

You don’t ever want to be used to getting filled so well. You don’t want to be curious about the other princes and how they would treat you. Something about Yoongi is exactly what you need, you just never knew before. Is the lesson supposed to make you have this realization?

Yoongi releases a low groan against your skin, murmuring, “you feel so fucking good. You taste so fucking good.”

Once again, Yoongi sinks his teeth in you. The pain draws you closer to your impending orgasm and you yelp outloud. 

His thrusts become even more determined. Your chest arches into him as you tug on the cuffs that limit your hand movement. The noise from the headboard thuds rhythmically against the wall as your cunt clenches.

“Cum on me,” you hear the words tickle your ears. Yoongi’s hand wraps around your head and leads you into a bloody, searing kiss. He hushes your moans as his tongue dives past your teeth.

Metabolic tasting liquid seeps into your taste buds but you aren’t focused on the flavor. The cradling hand on your cheek and gentle soft strokes of his fingers on your hips are. The deepened kiss, full of lust and passion, sends you to overdrive as you whimper through your crashing orgasm.

Your legs shake against his sides in the same pace of your walls gripping his cock. Your blood trickles down on Yoongi’s chest as you ride out the waves of pleasure. Wet squelching sounds happen at the intersection between you and him as his thumb runs circles against your clit.

You feel your eyes fluttering shut as you groan. Your rolling orgasm kicks your body into realizing how much strain it’s handling. The harsh mixture of pain and pleasure. Your body is beginning to fall limp, the life and energy inside of you finally hitting their max. You want to collapse but Yoongi continues to thrust into you, perhaps chasing his own high.

“Ah,” you breathe as Yoongi’s mouth detaches from yours. His eyes focus on the mess of arousal on his lap, the way your cunt disappears his cock entirely. There’s a vice grip on your hips now, all you can do now  is be a toy for him.

A puppet, so he’d say.

Your head begins to spin as your vision fades into darkness. The last thing you see is the beautiful features of Yoongi, enjoying full on gratification from your body. Blood covered across his smooth poreless skin and black raven hair. 

moodboard credit: @kth1

© 2024 All rights reserved under @kth1​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This TUMBLR and AO3 are the ONLY places my fics are posted.

[lovifie]

The First Morning ☀️

Masterlist — OG Drabble

Boyfriend!Ghost x Chubby!Reader, but they wake up in each other's body.

A.K.A. How Simon would react to waking up in his dear lovie body.

There isn't any freaky accident, no car crash pushing one against the other, no lightning hitting them and melting them together, not a bullet flying hitting the one jumping in front or the other but still going through the both of them. Any of that. 

Simon just got back from deployment, left the guns at the base, told Price he would be back in the morning and went home to you. Took off his boots, took a shower, got into the bed with you, made sweet sweet love to you while cuddling (you being the little spoon) and then fell asleep with you in his arms. 

So there is no reason as to why he can see himself staring back at him from the bathroom door. At first, he thinks he's dead, he got distracted and was unable to outrun the inevitable. But then he realizes he's alive, and he sits up pulling away the covers. He never expected that seeing your naked body would cause him an even remotely negative sensation, but seeing it in first person point of view without further explanation has him jumping off the bed as if that would push him back into his original body. 

“Simon?” A deep voice emerges from his body on the other side of the room, his own voice sounding strange not coming from within himself. He asks your name, weirded out by the higher pitch voice that he manages to get out. 

“I am not dreaming, right? You are seeing your body too, right?” You ask, a bit of shake on your voice so uncharacteristic of the body it is coming out of. 

“No, love. I can also see us in each other body.” He says, leaving a sigh exhale. “C’mere, let's sit down for a second.”

He sits down at the feet of the bed, patting the mattress next to him. He looks at you, and he doesn't have time to say anything before you hit your forehead on the door frame of the bathroom causing you to crouch down grabbing your head. He wonders for a second how you didn't hit it on your way in. 

You whine rubbing your head, and Simon can't help but cringe at the sound leaving his body. “Don't do that…” He says, trying to peel your hands away to check the damage and you whip your head to look at him, brows furrowed offended by his words. “Well, I'm sorry for cracking my head open, Simon.”

He sighs, rubbing his face. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just fucking weird to see myself like that.” He says, and when he takes his hands away from his face he sees you looking at his chest, well, your original body chest. “It's that how much my boobs move when I talk?” You ask, frankly surprised by the amount of movement.

“Love, I know your boobs are hypnotic, but let's focus.” He says, covering his chest with his hands. You quickly nod, coming back to your senses and stand up, once at your full size you look down at Simon, who is still crouching down staring between your legs. He looks up, a little terrified expression on his face when he makes eye contact with you. He stands up without saying anything, but you have just earned yourself another kind of respect from Simon, because if he had to affront somebody his size while being yours, he would be terrified. 

He looks at the time on his phone and says: “I need to leave in 40 minutes to make it on time at the base.”

“I'll send a message to the office that I need to work from home for a couple of days, it'll be okay.” You answer, picking up your own phone to send said message. 

“Perfect, we both going to the base then. We'll explain everything to the Captain, I don't think he'll be able to help but there is no point in hiding it, it wouldn't work.” He says, opening your closet to find clothes 

“Wait… I'm going to meet your team?” You ask, surprised because Simon has always told you that he didn't want to expose you either to the military or his own team, justifying as it being too risky for your own safety. He sighs turning to look at you and nods. “Yeah, it's not ideal and I would have very much rather introduce you to them with you on your own body but I guess this is how we are doing it now. Get dressed, doll.”

Each of you begins to walk to your closet, only to stop once you reach it and turn around to walk to the other one. Picking up the clothes for Simon is easy, his uniform is always ready just as you open the door. You pick up a pair of knickers from his drawer, and frown when you see there is a hole in it. You pick up another one, only to find the same hole. “Simon.” You call him, getting a hum as a response that he is listening. “Why is all your underwear ripped?”

“What?” He asks, turning around to figure out what you are talking about. When he sees it on your hand, he chuckles before explaining. “That's not ripped, is on purpose, to get your dick out to pee without taking them off.”

There is a beat of silence before you ask. “I beg you pardon?” Simon laughs at your reaction and says. “Put them on, then try what I told you.”

You hold a hand up, letting Simon know to wait and you put the underwear on. You peek through the hole in the underwear and realise it is at the perfect height to get your new dick out. And it is then that you realise: “Wait… I can pee standing up!” You exclaim looking at him like you just discovered a new continent. Simon nods at you smiling softly when he sees you walk to the bathroom. “Watch your head.” You managed to avoid the hit in the last second thanks to him, and raise the toilet lid. 

Simon walks behind you, crossing his arms when he sees you crouching down on the toilet. “What are you doing? Stand up!” He says confused.

“I don't want to pee out!” You say back, still in an awkward position. You hear him chuckle again and then you feel a stinging slap on your ass cheek causing you to move your hips forward away from his hand. “Simon!” 

His hands find their way to your hips and move your hands to his dick to pee inside the toilet. “See? Not so hard right?” He says walking back to wash his hands and face, and then looks back at you when he sees a weird movement on the corner of his eyes. “What are you doing?” 

“Nothing.” You say a bit too quickly and turn around, an obvious half-boner on your crotch. Simon sighs, half laughing at the way you act as if there is nothing wrong.

“Lovie.” He says walking up to him, holding your hands. “I'm gonna need you to keep your mind clear, all right? Nothing nasty is that little head of yours, all right?”

“Simon.” You say, holding back his hands. “I'll try my best… but I can't promise anything.” 

You kiss his forehead, before walking back to the room, barely hitting your head again and walk to your closet. Pulling clothes out for Simon, pitying his own style of clothing and choosing some of your more tame clothes. A pair of straight black jeans, a white undershirt and a grey jersey; Simon shows his gratitude towards your choice with a quick nod before getting dressed. Before he puts the shirt over his head you are quick to throw your bra at him: “Put it on, Simon. I'm not meeting your boss with my nipples saying hi before me.” He groans, as if it was a daily occurrence and you quickly put on the rest of the clothes. 

You turn around when you are ready and chuckle when you hear Simon complain under his breath about the bra stabbing him. He puts the rest of the clothes on and turns to you, checking for your approval and you nod at him smiling. You walk into the bathroom to pick up the brush and come back, sitting on the bed and asking him to step between your legs to brush your hair. 

You do a braid on your hair, keeping the hair from his face and smile at him when he looks at you. He sighs and picks up his mask from his nightstand. “Try it on, alright? If it suffocates you or something, take it off; but if you don't mind I would like it a lot if you keep it on.”

You nod, and help him put it on without twisting an ear. You readjust it and take a couple of deep breaths to test it, you look at him and shroud your shoulder. “Fine for now, I'll tell if I start to feel like I'm dying.” 

You stay looking at each other for a second broken by your voice “We should be a lot more panicked than we are, right?”

“Yeah, probably.” He says resting his hand on your shoulder as yours finds his way to the back of his knees. “But it's still us, so. It's just us, like always.”

Once the both of you are dressed and ready for the day, the both of you walk out to his car. You enter the copilot seat, hitting your head on the way in but starting to get used at this point. Simon enters the driver seat, looking confused when he can’t reach either the pedals or the wheels. He moves the seat to the front, and looks at you: “This is how close you need to move the seat to drive? If you ever get in a crash you are out before you see the other car, love.”

[charmercharm3r]

Now go to sleep

BC

Masterlist

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, bf!chan, piv, fingering, idk witty banter cus he's such a cute meanie like that, idk he's been so teasing on bubble lately I couldn't help myself so ..here..

☆ﾟ

"I'm tired, I'm not going to argue about this."

"I'm tired too, but I can be tired and still care about our relationship!"

Chan had gotten home a half hour ago and was barely stripping his outside clothes, head caught in his shirt when the words left your mouth. He could be menacing when he wanted to be.

Take now, for example. He'd finally wrangled himself out of the material and hadn't even slipped it off his arms when he turned his body to stop and stare at you like you'd just said you committed armed robbery. Brows slightly furrowed, lips pouting at you, Chan had the "fuck around and find out" look down to a T.

"Don't go there." Tone of voice, too. Menacing.

"Don't make me."

But there was the attitude right back. He deserved it for ignoring you the past week, you'd been so understanding until now. You'd reminded him every week for a month until this past Saturday the day he specifically took off so that you could have one date night. Just one. It was the only thing you've asked for since your birthday. And he still forgot.

Forgot or prioritized something else- probably work related- you didn't know or care.

"You promised," your voice shook slightly.

"So did you. You promised you'd understand."

"I've been understanding. You've been ignoring. Me."

The annoyed brow ruffle softened as did the rest of his face when the tears started to well up in your eyes. You didn't wanna cry in front of him, it was the last thing you wanted to add onto his already heavy weighted shoulders, but you couldn't help it. "It's not just your life.

"We sleep in the same bed. We share the same bathroom. You use my shampoo and I steal your hoodies. Sometimes you take my socks from the drawer and it makes you a minute late 'cus you have to make the trip back to the bedroom. Sometimes I accidentally grab your towel after a shower because it's steamy in the bathroom and I can't see, then you shower after me and get confused and use my towel instead. It's probably my fault, but it's not just your life."

Chan dropped his shirt to the floor, annoyance being replaced with guilt. He had been ignoring you, but not purposefully. He knew about date night and let his boss, his colleagues, everyone get in his head that the only way to prove himself and his capabilities was to work himself to death. Death by heartbreak because the sadness that radiated off of you was so painful he was sure that that was exactly what was happening to him.

He took the few steps to stand in front of you and reach out to cup your cheeks, thumb catching the slowly rolling tear. "Your towel is softer, anyways."

You hated how easily he could make things better, laughing and sniffling as you leaned your head into his palms. "I wash our towels together, that doesn't even make sense."

Kisses were smothering your face in the next moment, warmth making the tears fizzle from behind your waterline to be replaced by the need to grab him, hold onto him and never let go. You melted in his arms so quickly, there was no evidence that you'd been crying in the first place.

And when he kissed your lips, you forgot why you were sad in the first place. For a second, at least. The lingering hurt was still there, not as potent, but definitely still there.

"I like using your towel because it's yours," he murmured into your mouth, hands wandering down to press your body against his shirtless one. "Your shampoo smells better than mine. Still smell it throughout the day and think of you." Guided back onto the bed, he covered you entirely to shield you away.

Kisses on both cheeks. "Your socks are cute." Kisses down your neck. "I know they're yours because of the colorful designs." Kisses to your palms and finger tips. Down your body and stealing your top away to plant more across the expanse of your belly until your body started to overheat. "I take them on purpose."

"Then you grumble at me when you're late on purpose, too?" You were teasing back, if the smile you wore was anything to go by.

"Yeah, to get you to kiss me before I leave. You forget if I don't."

"Why don't you just ask me, then?"

"It tastes a little sweeter when you think you came up with the idea on your own." Chan smirked back up at you before venturing further to rid you of your bottoms so that you were left bare before him.

You would never admit it to him, but you forgave him as soon as his shirt came off. You just like when he works for your forgiveness, it reminds you that he does still truly care.

"You're still wearing pants," you breathed heavily when he spread your legs so he could slot between them, the rough denim brushing your aching core.

"Mhm," he mumbled back.

"Take them off."

Chan stopped his kissing rampage and pulled back with that fucking look that made you want to slap him silly. "Why should I?"

It was your turn to be annoyed. "Because I'm trying to fuck my boyfriend."

"Vulgar," he teased, placing a cheeky peck to the tip of your nose. "How badly do you want it?"

Tender touches roamed your thighs and love handles, getting you into a position on your back you knew rather well with him as your partner in it. "Not want, need."

Chan chuckled against your skin, burning like hot coal in the path he took further south, past your cunt and down your legs to pepper kisses around your calves and ankles as he sat up, taking your limbs with him. He maneuvered you to hang your legs over his shoulders so he looked down at you. "Is that really all it took, baby?"

"You haven't done anything yet. I'm still upset."

He bit his lip and raked his eyes up and down your body. "I see how it is."

Cryptic as always, he never gave away more than necessary.

But his body language is impossible to misread. Through his jeans, you could see the tent in his pants that you knew was probably painfully rubbing against the harsh material. He wanted it as badly as you did, but didn't want to be the first one to cave.

Before he could move again, you locked your ankles around his neck and tugged him down, "you were being so nice to me, what happened?"

"Make a little more noise for me, baby."

His hands had snuck their way to your core, fingers running through your folds before you had processed his words. You were doing exactly as he asked, not by choice. He provoked the noises out of you with precise, practiced moves against your clit, practically stringing them out of you like another one of his musical instruments.

"Please," you whined, threading your fingers in his hair hoping he'd cave.

Chan laughed again, "I don't think so. Not loud enough."

Prodding against your hole made another whimper crack through your restraint. You weighed your options and both would lead to an orgasm, you were sure. But you didn't know which route you wanted take more- letting him talk you down into submission or teasing him back until he fucked you into it.

Then his fingers broke the surface, plunging into you slow but deeply. The stretch was already proving to be more than you could handle, head falling back into the mattress and letting chants of his name fill the room. Chan loved it, drooling over how easily he got you under his reign.

"Baby, please. Wan' it," you grabbed his hand to halt his ministrations. Chan laughed at your sudden flip in attitude.

"Fine," he feigned compliance, knowing he would give you anything you asked for if you kept looking at him like he held your world in his hands.

He did, but he doesn't need to know that just yet.

Chan unzipped his pants and shoved them down his hips along with his boxers, just enough to let his cock spring free. Clearly, he was barely containing himself seeing as leaking precum made his tip glisten.

"Here," he presented himself like a present, not moving. Chan simply waited for you to take what you wanted. When you did, he smiled, proudly this time.

You used the leverage on his shoulders to scoot down the bed and reached between your bodies to let him slip past your entrance. Oh, he fit like a perfectly tailored glove, every time.

He let you use him, only providing some stabilization as you fucked yourself back and forth, up and down, any which way you could to reach the high you so desperately needed from him. Until you couldn't anymore. All you had to do was stop, let out a huff, and look up at him with those fucking eyes, and Chan folded.

Literally folded, hunching over you and cooing, "okay, okay. I'll do all the work. Only because you look so cute when you try to fuck me."

He didn't need to go very fast, just the right angle to press your sweet spot like a button. The wet, pornographic sounds of your bodies pulling apart and colliding, with his name falling from your lips and his noises of pure pleasure, it wasn't very long until the both of you were arching into one another and letting the euphoric waves crash onto shore.

Chan slumped onto you, bodies tired and feeling entirely too cuddly to clean up any more. Doing the bare minimum and kicking off his pants while not even bothering to pull out, he laid his head into the crook of your neck and smothered you entirely.

"Date night. This weekend." You grumbled into his hair, getting comfortable.

"Whatever you want. Now go to sleep," Chan nuzzled his nose into your skin, letting your warmth take over his senses.

Draping your arms over his shoulders and holding him close with a kiss on the top of his head, you mumbled back, "don't tell me what to do."

☆ﾟ

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut @straykids5star

[eyeless-cunt]

KINKTOBER DAY 13

PROMPT: Hate Sex

CREEP: Jeff

Word Count: 2.4k

CW: 18+ Sexual Content, Heed the prompt, Angry sex, Angry Jeffery. Biting, Blood, Marking. Yes, Hate Sex Gets Creampies Too. Is this angst? Is that a term people still use?

KINKTOBER '24 MASTERLIST

“Are you fucking for real?” I practically shoot the words out, my glare seething as I point it towards the man standing across the room from me. He stands there directing a similar glare my way, his arms crossed as he stares me down.

“I'm not fuckin’ you for fakes,” he spits out as if it makes any sense. I throw my hands up incredulously, turning away so that I wouldn't chuck something at him as I looked at his face.

“You're not fucking me at all, actually, for one.” I say, as if that makes any difference in the argument at hand. “And for two–,” I'm cut off by his easy grin as he scoffs, looking at me as though he's amused by my plight. “What? Why are you looking at me like that? What's your issue, now?” I'm once again throwing my hands in the air, eyes rolling into the back of my skull as I attempt to breathe through my frustration.

“It's funny, you said I'm not fucking you at all, but I could have sworn we did. Was that a dream?” I laugh, the sound short and harsh as I smile at him. It's a pity smile, and by the look on his face he realizes it. I watch as his face drops, a glare returning to take its place. Without bothering to comment on his interruption, I continue.

“And for two,” I emphasize, eyeing him like he's a disrespectful toddler, “I don't see how or why you've suddenly come to the conclusion that you can decide on things that don't involve you.” I'm fully facing him now, eyeing him as though his explanation had better move the sun and stars at the very least.

“You're mine.” His deadpanned comment has me freezing in place, mouth dropping open as though I watched my home go up in flames. Soon, it may.

“Yours?” I question slowly, as though I'm tasting the word as it comes out. It doesn't taste like much else besides audacity.

He doesn't respond, the look on his face telling me how resolute he is. He stands tall, his arms crossed as he eyes me. He's waiting for me to blow up, I realize. A bird call sounding from outside has me reminding myself how much I enjoy where I live. I can't burn it down, it would be a waste. Instead, I could bury Jeffery in the backyard, I think. The idea has me nodding thoughtfully, an image of a pretty garden growing atop his rotting corpse fueling my little patience. There's not much to fuel, but the embers are still lit and that's probably enough to ensure I don't take my house down with him.

“Yours?” I question again, laughing as though he's said something I find amusing. Really, I'm more amused by the look on his face as he watches me warily.

“That so, baby?” I cross my arms behind my back, smiling at him like he's a petulant child that requires care. His hackles are raised now, and I can clearly see the apprehension in his guarded expression. He only swallows, guarded but still resolute in his word choice.

“Yes,” he says after a pause. I nod, exaggeratingly mulling over his singular word as though I actually think about it for longer than three seconds.

“Right, sure. So what makes you say that?” He looks away for a second, looking like he'd rather not say anything at all. Immediately, I find that strange. Normally, he'd be giving it right back to me.

“Ain't obvious?” The words almost sound meek coming from him, as if he truly didn't want an argument. Entirely unlike his character. I think over his response, turning over different ideas that may make sense. I come up blank, until I realize that he's the possessive type.

“Seriously? You're acting like I took your chastity. It was just sex. It doesn't mean shit, and it certainly doesn't put an ownership tag on either of us.” His meek look is gone, replaced entirely with the glare I'm familiar with. It's almost a welcome sight.

“Don't care.” He stands still on his side of the room, looking as though he does care. A lot. I can only scoff, wondering if the ensuing argument is even worth having.

“Woods, look me in the eyes.” I point to myself, motioning for him to follow my direction. Surprisingly, he does, and I can see the attachment in his gaze. It's almost enough to make me feel bad.

“We. Are. Not. Together. It's that simple, yes?” I punctuate each word with extreme emphasis, eyeing him as though I need to make sure he understands the English language.

“That's fine.” He shrugs, the words escaping easily. If his fists weren't clenched and his jaw wasn't ticking I may have actually believed him. His reaction to it, however, had nothing to do with me. So long as he understood.

“But don't think I'll let you get with anyone else. It's that simple, yes?” That has me freezing in place, the look on my face probably only a step away from murderous. He looks like he's dealing with multiple emotions at once, but luckily for him I'm only dealing with one.

“Oh? Is that so?” My voice grits out, jaw clenched as I attempt to restrain myself from jumping across the table. He nods, the smallest victory smirk ghosting his lips.

“Okay, well answer me this then–how will you stop me if you're dead?” I deadpan, watching as his eyes lower, probably thinking over all of his options.

“Not sure. Guessing I'll have to stay alive.” I can really only scoff at this point, beyond angry.

“Right, well, you do that. Just know that whether you succeed or not doesn't matter. It will never make me yours, and I'm not interested in claiming you for myself. I have enough dogs to bark for me.” I may have been trying to hit a nerve, but he seemed hellbent on breaking mine.

He hears my words and immediately uncrosses his arms, fighting not to slam his fists onto the table. It's obvious he's seething, and I can't help but laugh as he stalks towards me, the eyes of a predator staring me down.

“Why? What can you get from another man that I can't give you?” He's only a foot away from me now, looking at me like he's trying not to jump on me for any one of the multiple reasons he's probably considering.

“That's like asking me to stick to one movie genre,” I say plainly. “Love this little true-crime thing we've got going on, Woods, but sometimes I’d much rather get into bed with a really good comedy.” I held his eye contact steady despite my lie, knowing a response like that would do much more to piss him off than just saying ‘no’ ever would.

“I doubt the ‘comedy’ made you cum on their tongue three times,” he scoffs, jaw ticking as though he was a bomb that could explode at any minute. Truthfully, he was. At this point I really was just trying to piss him off–a somewhat foolish attempt to put him in his place and snub out that raging audacity.

“Not quite, but his name was really fun to scream,” I snark, knowing that this will only end in broken windows. He pushes past the foot of space between us, my back hitting my kitchen counter as he towers over me, both hands slammed onto the cabinets on either side of my head. I took a second to admire his arms, the tensed muscles doing wonders for him right now.

“You don't mean that,” he spits out, chest moving with the force of the rage he's barely keeping contained. One look at his expression has me thinking that maybe he'll end up being the one burning my house to the ground.

“I don't?” I hum, looking up at him mockingly.

“Tell me you don't, or I swear to god people will die.” He says it slowly, the words coming out like hot gravel, his eyes completely still as he leans closer to me.

“Mmmm…but what if I do?” The question leaves my mouth like a bullet, my target large and easy to hit. “What if, Jeffery, I’m being dead serious? Maybe you just don't get me off like my other puppies do. Maybe you're the runt of the litter,” I shrug, wondering if being compared to a dog would piss him off as much as him being compared to other men.

He doesn't respond verbally, his mouth crashing to mine violently. His teeth hit mine a few times, biting my lips and smearing the blood as he practically eats me alive. His hands are in my hair, on my ass, grabbing the back of my head–they’re everywhere. All I can taste is him on my tongue, the copper of my blood passing between us like a cigarette. I can feel the anger pulsing under his skin as he pulls me into his arms, lifting me so I can wrap my legs around him.

He doesn't waste a second, hands ripping my shirt up and over my head. He doesn't bother looking at me, mouth entirely too busy working its way down my neck and chest. He sits me on the counter, fingers fumbling my pants button until he simply pops it off, his patience officially gone. The sight of my now broken jeans has me opening my mouth to cuss him out, but he speaks against my mouth before I can.

“Shut the fuck up,” he grits out, hands yanking my hips forward as I kick off the rest of my jeans. I tsk, my mouth occupied as he holds me against him by the back of my head. He's practically ravenous, the way his fingers dig into me indicating more than just his anger.

“I hate you,” he seethes, his fingers tearing off the rest of my layers as his mouth continues to clash against my skin brutally. I swallow a laugh, interrupted by the sudden intrusion of his fingers inside of me, pumping in and out. The feeling has me sucking back a gasp, and I watch as his teeth sink into my shoulder, making me hiss.

“Hate me enough to fuck me?” I scoff, eyes watering as he continually pumps into me, his two fingers doing a much better job than I ever could. I'm clenching around them as they strike deeper, my head falling back against a cabinet. He pulls off my shoulder, a bloody ring left behind. I don't comment on it.

“I hate you enough to make you mine no matter how you feel about it,” he croaks, his voice sounding pained as the words come out. I swallow, noticing how his eyes don't meet mine, locked on the deep gash that takes the form of his bite marred into my skin. I don't comment on that either.

The sound of his pants unbuckling catches my attention, his soaked fingers reaching to pull my legs further apart. He pushes himself between my legs, grabbing my chin roughly.

“I don't care what you think about it,” he says, eyes finally meeting mine. I can see the turbulence in them. “I don't care what you have to say about it.” He presses his lips to mine again, just as hungry as before. “And I don't care about how you feel about me. So long as you let me be with you.” His forehead falls against mine, gray eyes staring up at me as though begging for something. “So long as I'm the only one you ever let be with you again.” As though he's begging me not to hate him. “Please.” As though he's praying for my love.

“That’s a lot of barking.” That's the only answer I can give him out loud, hoping my eyes convey as much as his. I didn't mean to push him this far, yet I did anyway. Did he mean to push me this far?

His mouth on mine muffles the moan that escapes my lips, his tip pressing into me and past my entrance. He groans against me, hips stuttering as he pushes inside, his hips meeting flush with my skin. I hear him mutter curses as I clench around him, feeling him fully. He's slamming into me right out the gate, his knuckles white as he holds me steady by the hips.

“How much,” he gasps, speaking between bloody kisses, “do I need to bark?” He doesn't let me respond, teeth nipping at my lip as he pounds into me deeply. His hair that had been pulled back previously was beginning to fall out of its tie, the ends brushing against me as he rolled his hips.

“How much until you hear me?” The words hit me as my legs begin shaking, the tension growing in my body the more my orgasm grows nearer. I can't possibly respond to his pleas, my insides screaming some of their own. We're both begging, only for different things. I can taste his name on my lips as he growls mine, my body sucking him in as I'm finally pushed over the edge. His name leaves me inbetween breathless gasps, my chest heaving with effort, trying to breathe correctly.

He barely takes a breath before he's fucking his cum back into me, the feeling sending electricity down my spine. My toes curl, legs clenched as I try to handle the sensitivity overload. I get one final kiss before he pulls out, dropping to his knees and throwing my legs over his shoulder. My mouth parts in shock, wondering what the hell he's doing before his mouth attaches itself to my clit, sending a full body twitch all the way through me.

“Wha–?” I can't bother to finish my sentence, too focused on the way he's moving his mouth over me. I look down to find his gaze focused on me, eyes sharp as he takes in every twitch I make.

“I'll bark until you put me on a leash,” he whispers, the words muffled against my core. I can't even hope to respond as I feel my stomach tightening, realizing that he really intends to ravage me until we're both pleased with the results. Is that truly hate?

[leconcombrerit]

This thing had been rotting in my files for a year (minus three weeks but that's basically a year). It was a redraw of one of my first ever pieces for this fandom, and I still find it quite okay if a little stiff in places, so I thought I might as well share it since I don't draw that much anymore.

And then I had second thoughts, which obviously led to me posting it anyway, as you can see, but I realized I've almost made it a point not to draw anything related to Sasi anymore. As in at all. I can't, and I don't want to, and even sharing old art feels a bit 'meh'. It's too directly linked to my long going art block.

What I mean by that is that if I took all the followers I have out there and asked them what they know me or initially followed me for, you might have a fair amount of Lis 2 and the occasional Desert Bluffs afficionados, but you'd get an overwhelming majority of Sanders Sides. Sanders Sides fashion posts even. I was by no means famous for it or anything, but at my small artist scale, it was the biggest success I had.

And it makes it much harder to go back to it at all now. One, because I don't give a damn about the show anymore. Two, because I haven't been properly obsessing over anything in a while (there was a series early this year but given the actual emotional distress I get thinking about it I'm ruling it out). I haven't had real engagement from my own brain, nor real engagement from a broad audience -which makes sense, I'm not posting for anything that will reach a broad audience. But it takes its toll regardless.

Even when I finally finished writing a long fic, I couldn't help but feel 'all this for what ? Ten people or so and two hundreds have dropped it ?'. Which is a bad way to think about stuff you write for your own enjoyment but, you know, the brain gets happy with external validation even if you pretend really hard you don't care.

And so it feels tempting to go back to the golden goose just the time to get the creative juice pumping back, and I try, and I always end up frustrated and angry and feeling even less like making art that before. I'm not having fun with Sasi. Like an old friend you have nothing to say to and yet you have so much to say otherwise, so you get a bit frustrated, you know ? Not sure I'm making much sense, but that's how it feels. I want to have something like that again, but it won't be with Sanders Sides, and I somehow just want if off my radar.

It was left hanging, then lost its spark, and then I stopped caring altogether and I most likely won't even watch the finale when it does come out. I'm over it. I wish I wasn't though, because it does feel like the artistic spark won't come back all on its own this time, and the buzzing community made it so much easier to bounce back and do shit when your brain got wired all wrong.

It sounds like I'm just bawling after love and likes and stuff, and I guess that's part of it, in a way ? Like I'm in no place to do things for myself, and seeing the one thing I used to use to get back in the flow giving me a bored sense of dread doesn't feel too great.

Yet this drawing is still good ! I find it good ! I don't remember everything, but I can tell from the looks of it that I spent a while on it ! It's nice ! I should celebrate that. So I'm sharing it. I think it will be the last piece of Sasi I ever share, though. I'm not watching the finale when it comes out. I don't care about it. I'll just keep doodling my OCs and characters from cool books every once in a while. I'll write little things.

I just really, really need to stop trying to go back to it when it's clearly not working and not even for good reasons. It was a fun ride though ! So yeah. Basically. A whole ass rant for a one year old piece of art. I'm in my bi-annual depresso mood, nothing too surprising there.

[suuuupernovaaa]

seze

seze [ˈsɛ.zɛ] n. blue flower

Anonymous Request: Reader confesses her feelings to Ao'nung and he rejects her pretty harshly, and Neteyam comforts her and eventually confesses to her and she realizes her feelings for Neteyam. When it comes time for them to mate before Eywa, Ao’nung regrets rejecting her, but it’s too late.

1,708 words

He looked me right in the eyes as he said it, with no shame, holding back nothing.

"I could never love someone like you."

He didn't yell it, he didn't even use a particularly harsh tone... he said it as if he was commenting that it looked like it might rain. It was a simple fact, and he seemed surprised that it wasn't something I'd considered.

I knew what he meant by 'someone like me'. Someone of little consequence. Someone with no particular or special skills. Someone on the outskirts of the clan, someone no one had ever really noticed.

Someone unimportant.

Though the words knocked the wind out of me, drained the blood from my face and made me feel light headed, all I could do was nod, turn, and walk slowly away.

It had taken weeks to work up the courage to tell Ao'nung how I felt. He had been so kind to me lately... I thought maybe, he felt the way I felt. Now I realized, that was foolish.

I left the beach for the protection of the treelined, and once I was out of sight, I sank to the ground, and let out a painful, low-pitched wail that I felt through my entire body.

The disappointment was hard, but the embarrassment was almost worse. Of course Ao'nung wouldn't be interested in someone like me; he would take a high-born mate, not a fisherman's daughter.

I cried myself to sleep, slumped against a tree, trying to accept my fate.

--

Neteyam noticed a change in Y/N right away. Though she mostly kept to herself, she was always cheerful and happy. He knew Kiri had a particular interest in Y/N, they had become sort of friends, and so she was around his family sometimes.

Something had happened to Y/N about three days ago, but Neteyam didn't know what. Though she was still around, she didn't speak, or smile, or engage hardly at all.

Neteyam asked Kiri what it was, but Kiri just shrugged and told him Y/N hadn't said anything to her.

He thought that was obtuse of Kiri. Hadn't he noticed the change in her friend? She was quiet before - not absolutely silent.

After another day of this, Neteyam could no longer hold his tongue, and when the opportunity presented itself and he found himself alone on the beach with Y/N, who was braiding a fishing net, he decided he had to speak up.

--

Neteyam sat next to me, lifting the net I was working on into his hands. It was small yet, but would be quite large when I was finished.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked.

I glanced over at him and nodded.

"Actually, I wanted to ask... if you're okay?"

My hands, once busy, settled into my lap, gripping the netting tightly. I was not okay, but I couldn't imagine why Neteyam would care. He had never shown any particular interest in me. In fact, no one had, save his sister, but even she hadn't noticed what was going on with me.

Ao'nung was right - I was not lovable.

A tear slipped from my eye, and I brushed it away, hoping Neteyam hadn't noticed.

"I'm fine," I replied.

Neteyam shook his head. "You are crying."

I turned away from him, pulling my knees to my chest. "It doesn't matter, Neteyam. Don't trouble yourself with me."

His warm, strong hand gripped my shoulder, and without thinking, I leaned over, pressing my cheek to his hand. The contact felt so good, and I tried to remember the last time someone had touched me like this... or at all.

"Tell me."

He pulled gently, and I turned to face him. The look on his face was so genuine, so earnest, and so full of concern. For a second, I wondered if he was teasing me. Maybe Ao'nung had told him what happened already, and Neteyam wanted to make fun of me.

That didn't make sense, though. Ao'nung and Neteyam weren't even close to being friends.

So maybe the concern was genuine.

The words spilled out of me then, like vomit, and I couldn't stop them. I told Neteyam about my years-long crush on Ao'nung, how I had pined for him, imagined a life with him, took his kindness to mean something it hadn't meant, and how when I'd told Ao'nung how I'd felt, he made it clear that I was too unimportant for someone like him to ever care about or notice.

I was crying by the end, fat tears rolling down my cheeks and splashing hot onto my lap, but it felt so good to finally tell someone that I didn't care, I couldn't feel embarrassed anymore. I had suffered enough embarrassment to last a lifetime over the past few days; I wanted to be done with that.

When I finished, I furiously wiped the tears from my eyes, and waited for Neteyam's response.

His expression was... angry. His brows furrowed, his mouth pursed, his eyes focused.

"I will kill that moron," he whispered.

I sighed and shook my head. "He doesn't have to love me."

"But he could at least be kind!"

I didn't reply, because I couldn't exactly argue with him.

Neteyam reached out unexpectedly, pulling me to him, wrapping me in a tight hug. Without hesitation, I wrapped my arms around him, scooting closer, our bodies pressed together.

It felt so comforting, so intimate, so nice to be treated like this and cared about, I would've started crying again if I'd had any tears left.

"Neteyam, thank you," I whispered.

He pulled back, looking me in the eyes. "You are important, Y/N. I have watched you. You are kind and thoughtful. You watch Tuk carefully to ensure she doesn't ever get hurt, you treat Kiri with thoughtfulness and protect her when others treat her like she's different, you even tolerate Lo'ak. I have never met anyone so gentle or caring. That someone could hurt you... it makes me want to kill him, Y/N. He had no right to speak to you that way. You are like... you are like a flower, with soft petals. You should be protected, given water and sun, not stomped on."

A flower. This is was nicest thing anyone had ever said to me, and Neteyam was staring into my eyes, so intently. How could someone like him, the son of Taruk Makto, have noticed and felt these things about me?

"Neteyam, I..." I searched my mind for a perfect reply, but could only come up with: "I see you, Neteyam."

"I see you, Y/N."

My lips spread wide in a smile - my first in many days - and Neteyam smiles in return.

--

After that day, Neteyam and I were scarcely ever apart. He became at first, a best friend, my closest confidant, and then naturally, it turned into something more.

There wasn't a moment when I realized it had happened. He just began holding my hand nearly all of the time, guiding me by the small of my back, touching his forehead to mine when we part and finally, one night, he kissed me.

It didn't even shock me. It felt natural, that Neteyam would kiss me. It felt really almost overdue. Neteyam should have been kissing me since the moment we met.

We were completely in step, in sync, together always. Neteyam was meant to be my mate, and I was meant to be his.

He didn't really ask me, formally, to be his mate. He just mentioned once, something about, "when we're mated..." and I agreed.

And the date was set... but we told almost no one, outside of his family and mine. It felt special, secret, just for us.

--

"Kiri says they're very happy," Tsireya told her mother while she chopped fruit. "I think it's nice, that Y/N has found someone. She's always seemed so lonely."

Ronal nodded. "That's good. Good for Y/N. She's a nice girl."

Ao'nung sat across from them, his jaw set in anger. Y/N had done him a kindness by telling no one about his harsh rejection, and he had since realized that.

It wasn't that he didn't like Y/N. He had always thought she was beautiful, and kind, and there was something interesting about her, a quality he hadn't seen in other women in the clan... but no one really knew her, or cared about her. Her parents weren't particularly important to the clan, and neither was she, and Ao'nung thought, as future Ole'eyktan, he should have someone better.

He had come to realize that he had been stupid. Better wasn't more well-known, more talented, more superficial... better was kind, and caring, and someone his mother thought was a 'nice girl'.

"They are to be mated before Ewya," Tsireya said with a blush. "They don't plan to make a ceremony of it, just the two of them."

Ronal smiled. "Beautiful."

Ao'nung sat, simmering in anger at the chance he had lost, thinking of how Neteyam had almost beat him senseless when he found out how Ao'nung had treated Y/N.

He knew now, he deserved it, and he'd missed his chance.

--

When Ao'nung had told me he could never love me, it had seemed like the end of my life. It made me feel stupid, and worthless, and ugly. I hadn't thought I'd ever recover.

Then, Neteyam breathed new life into me. He didn't have to, but he did, and he kept doing it, every single day since then.

We emerged from the water, Neteyam breathless, chest heaving, my mate before Ewya.

He pulled me into his arms once more, pressing a desperate kiss to my lips, holding my face in his hands, then wrapping his arms around my waist.

"I love you," he whispered over and over between kisses, and I thought I could cry with gratefulness and joy.

"I love you, Ma Neteyam," I replied. I pulled away, just for a moment, to smile at him. "Thank you."

He pushed the wet hair from my face. "My flower," he said with a soft smile, as he so often did.

The sting of rejection was long behind me, replaced by enough joy to last a lifetime.

[notrapsplease]

Werebear Halsin Headcanon

I have seen a couple other posts going around about werebear Halsin and wanted to make my own with some of my thoughts/evidence because I have been a werebear truther since I first saw the beefy elf daddy.

This doesn't really have spoilers in it, but I do touch on a couple plot points from the game. Fair warning! I also pull a lot from D&D itself, specifically 5th edition since that's what BG3 is built on.

This ended up being long, so I split it into a few different categories, they are in no particular order:

Quite large for an elf

We all know, Halsin is big. Large even. In D&D, elves are described as being slender and slight. Even if they are athletic they are not muscular and are lighter than other races of the same size (as in a 5'5" human will weigh more than a 5'5" elf). They are a little shorter than humans on average.

This puts Halsin well outside the usual elf physiology. When this is addressed in game, Halsin says perhaps he has some orc ancestry or "conventional wisdom is too narrow about what someone can or cannot be" (beautiful sentiment Halsin, you're still big).

Being a werebear offers a simple explanation for his unusual size. Werebear in D&D are described as being large and muscular, even in their humanoid form.

It's a "Wildshape"

Sure buddy.

Halsin's bear form is explained away as one of his druid wildshapes, but there are a couple things that don't line up.

First is the UI itself. Halsin’s bear form is separate from wildshape. It’s in the general abilities section not the class features. This might be just for programming reasons, but I still think it’s interesting.

Second and more incriminating, Halsin stays in bear form for too long. ACT 1 Spoilers: When you find Halsin in the Goblin Camp, the Goblins don't know he's a dude, they just think he's a bear. Even if in the stories timeline you're supposed to reach him the same day as when he was kidnapped, that's still a long time to maintain a wildshape. As per DND 5e rules: "You can stay in a beast shape for a number of hours equal to half your druid level (rounded down)."

So even if Halsin is STARTING as a max BG3 level druid at level 12, he should only maintain wildshape for 6 hours. Even as a Circle of the Moon druid, the time doesn't increase.

"I...lost the run of myself"

Related to the idea that Halsin's bear form is a wildshape, I need to touch on the parts of the game that indicate Halsin can lose control of his bear form.

My main piece of evidence here is that wildshape in D&D has no indication that you lose any control of your impulses. In fact, wildshape describes the opposite: "Your game statistics are replaced by the statistics of the beast, but you retain your alignment, personality, and Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma scores."

The fact you retain your mental stats mean you are in total control. There is no mental difference between a druid in wildshape and a druid in their humanoid form. To be in wildshape is a CHOICE the druid makes.

This is in contrast to spells like Polymorph which indicate that you lose your mental stats AS WELL as your physical ones: "The target's game statistics, including mental ability scores, are replaced by the statistics of the chosen beast. It retains its alignment and personality."

I bring that up just to showcase that D&D does have that distinction, if wildshape was meant to be something that you could lose control of, or let the beast take over, they would have written it that way.

ACT 3 spoilers: This idea that he can be made to lose control is also hinted at if Orin kidnaps him from your camp. Orin's dialogue from the kidnapped victim usually indicates a deep-seated fear the victim has, or their worst case scenario. Having kidnapped Halsin describe himself losing control indicates to me that it's his biggest fear. Which makes sense as a werebear, as a druid…not so much.

In contrast to wildshape, which is a voluntary choice the druid makes, being a werebear is a curse. Halsin is obviously in good control of his werebear self (I discuss this later on), but it is still a curse and can affect him negatively, especially in impulse and instinct.

Alignment: Neutral Good

Now I've got to talk about the werebear curse a little more. And D&D lycanthropy in general.

When someone is afflicted with the curse and resists it, they maintain their normal alignment but struggle to contain the beast. If an afflicted person chooses to accept the beast they gain more control over their bestial form, but lose their alignment to the alignment of the kind of lycanthrope they are.

Both Halsin and the canon D&D werebear are Neutral Good. Which means Werebear Halsin is in alignment with his bestial side, offering some manner of control over his transformations.

Only you can prevent shadow curses.

Werebear are described as being lone hermits who guard their territories fiercely, protecting their habitat, and the flora and the fauna from any threat. Sounds like a werebear might get really obsessive trying to rid his territory of, say, a Shadow curse.

Halsin and Thaniel's relationship makes a lot more sense if Halsin is a werebear. They met when Halsin was a child, so Halsin wouldn't have been a druid yet. In D&D druids are a learned class, more like clerics. Certainly Halsin could been a child in touch with nature, but why did Thaniel single him out?

If Halsin was a werebear though, he would have already had a natural desire to protect the land, the land being personified as Thaniel.

The werebear curse is described in D&D as usually being passed on voluntarily, as in a werebear chooses who they want to bite, either a companion or an apprentice. Werefolk curses also pass through bloodlines (as in you can be born a werefolk). The general consensus is if you are born a werefolk you will naturally align with the curse's alignment so you will innately be in more control then a bitten werefolk. We already know Halsin is Neutral Good, like werebears usually are.

This is a more headcanon-y part, but I think Halsin’s family were probably all werebear, or at least one of his parents was and from a lineage that had a history protecting the land Halsin grew up on. Knowing that Halsin's family all passed away, this could also indicate why Thaniel singled him out, maybe Halsin was the last in the werebear lineage that had chosen to defend the land Thaniel personified.

Either way, Halsin and the werebear align in the desire to protect natural spaces, and Halsin's obsession with the shadow curse could stem from that innate desire.

This isn't my first time recruiting a werefolk druid

This is meta evidence, but I'm including it. In BG2 there is a druid named Cernd and he’s a werewolf! What does this have to do with Halsin? Not a lot, but it shows that having a companion who is a werewolf is established in the universe. Cernd also establishes that being a druid helps to control a werecreature curse. Cernd isn’t feral and has greater control over his werewolfism because of his abilities as a druid. Also Cernd has magic items that are from High Forest. If that sounds familiar, it's where Halsin says his family is buried. idk the connection but it's interesting.

Final thoughts

I think that's all?? I also want to talk about why I think the Werebear curse wasn't brought up in game.

One of the other posts I saw suggested that the reason it’s not brought up in game is Halsin doesn’t know he's a werebear. I get that, I can totally see that, but I don’t think that does Halsin justice. Halsin may be a beefy boy, but he isn't oblivious. There is no way Halsin has lived for 350 years and hasn’t realized he’s a werebear. 350 years is a long time not to bite anyone.

I think the more likely explanation in game is simply that it never comes up. Halsin is in control (mostly) and not worried about it. He is also not used to having people who care for him (this is a huge part of his characterization in game), and probably has had to keep the fact that he is a werebear relatively secret throughout his life.

From a meta perspective, I think it was cut for time and content. We KNOW that a lot of his content was cut already (Sorrow, anyone?). There is also the fact that originally one of the other origin characters was going to be a werewolf, so they may have decided to ease back on Halsin being a werebear so she would be more unique. Then she ceased to exist anyway. Personally I think they should have included some dialogue about it somewhere, especially after deciding not to have the werewolf companion. I genuinely can’t FATHOM that werebear Halsin wasn’t the plan all along, regardless of if they decided to cut it. Alright I'm done. Werebear believers unite!