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Halsin/DragonbornOC – musk kink – Halsin finds himself in a predicament that leaves him half transformed after his escape from the Goblin camp. Damien, a silver Dragonborn monk, is only too eager to be a bit of company for the druid.

Part 1 (This Part)

Part 2 (Patreon Link)

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It’s not difficult to find the druid. Damien only need following the half-suppressed grunts leading him out of the camp.

Lae’zel is keeping watch but she only throws him a short uninterested glance before turning back to her previous position. If he dies out there, she won’t miss him. Their group has not been together for long enough to make any theatrics about one of them perishing.

He doesn’t pay it much mind. He is too curious to see his suspicion confirmed, focusing on the cracking of leafs and the low, aggravated huffing he is walking toward. And, sure enough – there he is: the druid Halsin staggering from one tree to the other as if fighting against some especially pesky foes. The most curious thing, however is his form; muscular and large and covered in fur – but moving on two legs as if he were a human.

He is stuck, Damien realizes. Some form of potion that had been thrown at him at the very last moment during their massacre in the Goblin camp is keeping him hostage in his own body.

Damien, tickled by the sight, steps out from behind the tree he’s been hiding, deliberately stepping onto a twig as he does so. Halsin’s round bear ears twitch at the sound. He surges around, already halfway across the space between them in the blink of an eye. Damien is fascinated.

It is not especially easy for a Dragonborn to smile but he puts in an effort to do so now. It is more a baring of his sharp teeth than anything else, really. His eyes glisten, looking the panting druid up and down.

“So it is as I thought…You haven’t shaken that potion off as efficiently as you had tried to make us believe.”

Halsin’s bear face is contorting. He turns it to the side, his huge paws moving so the claws softly clack together. He’s so close that Damien can already smell him; thick and musky and delicious. His nasal slits dilate and contract again as he pulls the scent in deep and lets it wash across his taste buds.

“Please… leave me to… sort myself out. I do not know what I could be capable of-”

Damien takes another step forward. The moonlight above is gleaming off of his silver scales and the sight seems to catch the druid’s attention. He turns toward him again. Damien can see himself reflected in those glistening, black eyes.

“I hardly think it appropriate to leave an… albeit temporary… companion to his own devices in such a difficult time,” he intones calmly before chortling softly, causing Halsin to twitch in turn. He continues with a cruel edge to his tone: “And I do find your predicament rather amusing, so you will excuse my curiosity.”

Despite his cocky demeanor, he is not prepared for the bear to suddenly roar and launch himself at him. The air gets knocked out of Damien’s lungs as he hits the ground – hard – with Halsin’s massive form towering above him.

He is not as heavy as he might have been in his properly transformed form – he undoubtedly would have crushed even Damien’s bones – but it certainly smarts. Damien’s face twists in discomfort.

“You…” Halsin growls throatily. He does not continue, however. Mayhaps he does not know what to say – or he is taken aback by how shallow and fast Damien’s breathing has become. Or maybe he noticed how the Dragonborn had been unable to keep from turning his head into him, inhaling the musk from the half-transformed bear’s armpit.

Damien shudders. As a Dragonborn, he is mainly odorless himself. He can’t help the… satisfaction he has developed with the thick, spicy musk of some individuals.

Halsin growls again, his lips pulling back to show those devastating sharp teeth off. It’s an intimidation tactic, obviously; but while Damien rolls his head and shows him his throat, he does not feel particularly intimidated.

He feels… excited.

Maybe the druid realizes the predicament Damien finds himself in. Or he is just becoming curious himself. He leans down, sniffing at the side of his face, hot breath fanning across tough silver scales.

Halsin shifts, his weight briefly putting even more weight on Damien’s shoulders. The Dragonborn groans, eyes closing, trying to simply accept the pain of it all and let it rush through his body.

Seconds later he finds himself quite literally buried beneath the druid as Halsin has laid down on him, crushing him into the ground.

“You are a monk, are you not?” he can hear Halsin’s growling, half-transformed voice. “What an odd specimen through and through… I would say you are going against nature’s order – but you might have just found a sliver of balance for yourself. You are strong.”

Damien does not answer. He just tries to breathe, his attention on the thick musk that is now all around him.

Halsin keeps sniffing at him; to what avail, he does not know. But it does make him interested even more; makes him reach up to grab the other’s fur and sniff at him in turn, inhaling deeply, blood pumping through his body faster and far hotter than it usually would.

It is all over too quickly, though. Halsin moves off of him. The bear face looks… satisfied. Smug, even.

“Go. Be a good little Dragonborn and I might be persuaded to play with you later.”

Damien just lies there on the forest floor, staring up at the trees, trying to gather himself but eventually he… obeys. Submissively climbing up to his feet and not looking at the druid as he hurries back toward the camp, the promise of more to come in the future tickling his brain more than the Tadpole buried inside it.