#♡Zevlor

[sorcerous-caress]

Hi I hope your having a good day by the time you read this! I was hoping I could request Minthara, Karlach, Gale, and Zevlor (If you write for him) reacting to a Tav that looks visibly under the weather but ignores it to continue to do things rather than resting?

Heh I’ve got a cold that’s kicking my ass rn but even tho it’s the week before thanksgiving break my college classes are piling me with stuff to do ya know?

I'm currently dealing with similar things, anon. Life demands us to function even at our worst sometimes. The migranes can be ruthless. Please make sure to rest and take care of yourself. You're more important than your assignments and classes.

Dealing with a stressed Tav who refuses to rest.

[Fluff, comfort, nb!reader]

[Minthara, Karlach, Gale, Zevlor]

Minthara

As cruel and cold as she tends to be, there is certainly some tenderness deep inside her heart that's saved solely for you.

If it was someone else, she wouldn't have cared. If anything she expects her followers to work themselves to the death if it benfited her, she has no tolerance for the weak.

And yet, every principle she has ever held goes straight out the window when it comes to you. The sight of your visibly tired face and exhausted body makes her furrow her eyebrows in worry, forms a tightness in her chest.

She respects you immensely, and she knows for a fact you're not weak. If anything you're stronger than anyone she has ever met before.

Minthara wants to show that she can be strong for you too, prove herself as the capable and reliable partner you entrusted your heart with. Take the burdens off your shoulders and carry it on her own. No price is too great when it comes to ensuring your well being, whether it be a life or gold.

But even her own abilities only extend so far, she knows there are things that you simply can't let her handle. She feels as if she failed you when the only thing she can do is stand there uselessly whilst you struggle through your hardships.

Kind words of encouragement don't come easily for her. There's no softness left on her tongue, and tenderness is a foreign language long forgotten. Yet she tries, she still tries through failed awkward attempts and borderline counterproductive advice. She still tries to offer some sort of relief for you, to understand you better, to just be with you.

Karlach

It pains her in a way, seeing you brush off your own health so easily and discard your wellbeing. You don't realise how much she envies you, envies having the health to spare to neglect.

The engine burns against her chest, sending her on a coughing fit more times than she could count, her time is nearing its end.

If she were you, she'd treasure it. Her life, her body, and her own pulsing heart.

Karlach still buries her feelings and comforts you, putting your needs above hers. Attempting to get you to smile again, tricking you into having at least a nap when you're especially exhausted.

You're a soldier, she reminds you, you're brave, strong, and capable. And she will always have your back no matter what, so don't go fighting the world on your own when it's better to take a step back and recover first.

Gale

She'd drown you with kisses, brighten your day up with hugs, and offer the most loving and tender touches. Each word coming from her mouth is filled with sincerity, yet it barely scrapes the surface of how deep her love is for you.

He's been there more than once. Hell, he still neglects his own health for his studies, even to this day. He can relate to you a lot.

It's the feeling of being left behind, everyone else seems to have their ducks in a row while you're struggling just to stay afloat ontop of the water. How tempting it is just to give in and sink, the threat of the abyss below whispering into your ears.

Yet you stay swimming, the both of you need to. Have to.

No matter how muddy and ruthless the current gets, no matter how aggressive the waves become. He'll hold your hand amidst the storm and anchor you to him.

Each one resurfacing the other whenever they start to drown, pulling each other up.

It's not the most healthy, he is self-aware enough to admit it. But he can't condem you for what he himself is guilty of, he can't tell you to take a rest when the orb bleeds his sins of greed through his chest.

Zevlor

He brings you food, peeled oranges and cut apples, sweet tea and freshly baked cookies. Shares his lunch and dinner with you, shares his own warmth too under the blanket.

He has experienced many things throughout his long life, he has lead an army in hell and did whatever he had to do for the sake of his people.

He has sacrificed many years, decades even of his own life for them. He would've given it all for them if he could, to ensure their freedom, to ensure the kids got to grow up safe and sound.

In the same way, he is ready to sacrifice his well-being to preserve yours. Ready to bear your responsibilities so you can go rest and sleep soundly.

So please, don't refuse an old person like him when he invites you over for some tea and to take a breath. He's absolutely certain that you can relay on him for whatever tasks you have, even stay at his own home if you require assistance.

A big part of why he managed to survive all those years of war, is because he knew when to ask for help, when to cast aside his pride and let even strangers lend a hand for the sake of his people.

He doesn't order you outright. He's not your general, and he doesn't have authority over you. Yet his voice is firm when he insists on you accepting help, allowing yourself this small mercy.

[dark-and-kawaii]

ʚ♡ɞ New Life & Beginnings ʚ♡ɞ

- Rolan x F!Tav/Reader

- Zevlor x F!Tav/Reader

- Raphael x F!Tav/Reader

✧˖°. Summary: Separate stories involving Rolan, Zevlor, and Raphael with their newborns.

✧˖°. Notes: I’m a sucker for these men being dads, and I just needed some softness… And a little angst for Zevlor

✦ Fluff | Prt 1. For Zevlor but not needed to read this | Hint of Angst For Zevlor & Rolan | Dadphael

Rolan

Rolan stood by the window, cradling a newborn in his arms. The child, swaddled in soft, faded blue linens, was a stark contrast to the crimson of Rolan's skin. His tail swayed gently back and forth in rhythm with the quiet hum he sang to soothe the infant.

It was a rare sight indeed. He never thought he’d hum to some infant, let alone his very own. But he figured this child, his child, deserved everything he never got to experience. His own childhood had been marked by absence, devoid of a loving mothers touch and a fathers protection…

Life had not always been kind to Rolan. As an orphaned tiefling with horns that curled back like the branches of a twisted tree and eyes the color of molten gold, he had wandered through his early years shrouded in solitude. No last name to claim, no family to return to after his day's adventures. That was until Cal and Lia found him.

Now, here he stands in a grand tower to call his own, his life transformed yet again. The room was filled with the quiet murmur of a new beginning. His gaze drifted towards the bundle of pillows on the floor where you, his beloved, rested deeply. The labor had been long and taxing, and Rolan despised the fact it happened here in the tower. Still though, a faint smile crossed his features as he whispered a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

The infant, perhaps sensing the warmth of his father's gratitude, joined in on the thanks and cooed softly, a delicate sound that seemed to stitch the very air with joy and its very own magic. Rolan chuckled, a sound rich with love, and lowered his face to plant a gentle kiss on the baby’s forehead.

But the tranquility of the moment was abruptly punctuated by a tiny sneeze from his little one. Reflexively, Rolan pulled back slightly, just in time to see a small flame burst forth from the baby’s nostrils... The flame caught the ends of Rolan’s hair, igniting them with a soft fizz.

Rolan's initial annoyance flickered across his face as quickly as the flame had caught his hair. He patted down the singed ends with a practiced hand, his expression melting into one of bewildered joy. The tiny sneeze had revealed something extraordinary about his child.

“By the stars,” Rolan murmured, his annoyance flickering away as quickly as it had ignited, replaced by a surge of excitement. “A sorcerer?… Or should I say, sorceress?” His voice was a mix of wonder and pride as he looked down at his daughter, whose big eyes blinked back at him, unaware of her fiery debut, “If you wish to master your skills you’ll need a good teacher. Thankfully you have everything you need- right here.”

Turning back towards the cozy corner where you slept, his tail continued swishing softly behind him. Carefully, almost tenderly, he nudged the sheet with the tip of his tail, pulling it up to tuck around you more securely. He then sat down beside you, his smile never wavering.

“I- I can't thank you enough,” Rolan reached for your hand, holding it gently between his, “Before you, my world was a tapestry with beautiful threads but no real picture.” he glanced down at yours and his daughter, “you've helped me start a family to call my own, besides Cal and Lia.”

His tail curled around, encircling both himself and his daughter as he continued to hold your hand.

Once an orphan, now a cherished father and partner. Rolan found himself at the center of his own growing family, with a sense of belonging he had never imagined possible.

Zevlor

His sleep was anything but peaceful… Zevlor tossed his head from side to side, his features twisting in torment. The sheets were crumpled beneath him, damp with sweat, as he muttered a sullen, “gods... no.” Each word was a whisper of despair, barely escaping his lips as the nightmare clenched its cold fingers around his mind.

In the throes of his dream, he found himself with blood stained hands as you lay lifeless in his arms. His hands tainted with your blood, his own sword impaled through your slightly distended abdomen… The nightmare depicted a grim scene where the influence of the Absolute had pushed him too far. By the time he realized his actions, it was tragically too late…

While holding your still form, Zevlor shut his eyes tightly, tear drops forming at their edges, desperately praying to any deity that might hear his cries, begging that this horror was not reality. Yet, upon reopening his eyes, the haunting image remained unchanged… There you were, still and devoid of life. His hand grazed your stomach, his head resting against yours, as he envisioned the life that might have been…

The tiefling bolted upright, shaken from the harrowing nightmare, his heartbeat pounding as the nightmarish visions clung to his mind. He extended his hand hesitantly, a wave of relief washing over him when he felt the comforting warmth of your sleeping figure beside him.

“It was only just a dream…” he whispered, though the words did little to calm his frayed nerves. Rolling onto his side, he pulled you close, his tail coiling around your leg to help keep you in place. He took a deep breath, inhaling your familiar scent as if to reassure himself of your presence. You stirred slightly but did not wake, for which he was grateful. He did not think he could speak of the horrors he'd seen. Far too afraid that you might have regrets keeping him at your side.

With a tilt of his head, Zevlor surveyed the room in search of the sole other treasure that held immense value in his existence. His infernal gaze landed on the crib where his beloved child peacefully slumbered. Silently he stood and peered into the crib, observing the delicate rhythm of his precious newborn’s tranquil breaths, finding solace in their steady respiration. Recollections of tender smiles and tiny grasping fingers alleviated the remnants of fear lingering in his thoughts.

How close he'd come to losing everything that day… When the absolute swayed him… Never again though. Never.

Quietly, Zevlor lifted the babe and returned to your side.

Holding his child close, the newborn's tiny heartbeat and warmth proof that the nightmare was not truly a reality.

“I vow to you, my child, and to your mother,” he whispered softly, his voice a tender rumble in the quiet of the night. “I will be your shield, your protector. No harm shall come to you as long as I draw breath.”

Zevlor's gaze shifted from the baby back to you. The sight of you both, safe and sound, was truly a balm to his troubled soul. Carefully, he adjusted his child in his arms, ensuring they were snug and secure. With a deep, steadying breath, he allowed himself a moment to simply be present, soaking in the quiet joy of fatherhood and being your lover. The fears of his nightmare seemed to dissolve, replaced by a quiet confidence borne of love and duty.

As the night deepened, Zevlor continued to watch over his little family. Every so often, he would gently touch the baby's cheek or brush a soft kiss against your forehead. These small acts reaffirming himself that this comforting reality was indeed true, not merely an illusion.

Raphael

In your room where shadows danced with the dim candlelight, all was silent except for your gentle breaths as you slept soundly. The bed, large and ornate, cradled not only your dreams but also a newborn, wrapped in delicate linens embroidered with gold stitches. You, with a serene expression, appeared as a portrait of peace as you held your infant close to your heart.

It was always around this time that the air shifted subtly, a warmth flooding the room, a sharp scent of sulfur and cherries mingling with your very own fragrance. From the darker corners of the room emerged a figure, tall and imposing, wrapped in fine silks to match the hells of which he was born from.

As Raphael approached the bed, his movements were silent, almost reverent. His fingers, warm and soft, traced a path up your exposed arm, stopping just short of your face. For a moment, he merely stood, his gaze shifting between you and the child nestled within your arms. A rare, tender expression softened the harsh lines of his face.

With the care of one who handles precious artifacts, Raphael gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. His touch was surprisingly tender, a contrast to his usual character. “Such a sleepy little mouse,” he murmured with an affectionate tone, one that seemed unfamiliar on his lips, “how quaint.”

Carefully, he lifted the infant from your embrace. The baby, undisturbed, continued to sleep, her tiny chest rising and falling in a calm rhythm. Raphael seated himself on the edge of the bed, ensuring every movement was calculated and silent, not to disturb the peaceful slumber of the infant's mother, you.

Holding the child merely inches from him, he looked at her with a complex mixture of emotions; affection, pride, perhaps even a hint of fear. His eyes, usually so piercing and cold, warmed as they rested on the child's placid face.

Raphael's attention was momentarily drawn to the balcony where a pseudo dragon perched, its eyes fixed on him with an unblinking gaze. The creature, a guardian by nature, watched with a protective intensity, ready to act should it perceive any threat to the child.

Turning his gaze back to the infant, Raphael spoke softly, his voice a whisper that carried weight and promise, “When she is grown, she will rule the nine hells with me.” The declaration was not just a statement of future events; it was a father's vow, a ruler's plan, “the perfect heir.” His daughter, this innocent soul, was not just any infant; she was his daughter, destined to share his ruling over the realms of damnation.

The room remained silent, the only sound the occasional flutter of the pseudo dragon's wings and the steady breathing of you and his child. Raphael continued to hold his daughter, his mind undoubtedly racing with plans and dreams of what was to come. For now, however, this moment was tender, a father bonding with his daughter, their future sprawling before them like the starlit sky outside the balcony.

[mysticrosed]

🎀 closed starter for @harpershigh !!

Zevlor felt a deep sense of gratitude for Jaheira's offer to stay with her family, along with the other veterans he once fought beside. The temple had been a refuge, a place to heal, but the glances from the townspeople had been hard to ignore—the way they looked at him and the others with thinly veiled disgust. Here, in Jaheira's company, they were given a second chance. A chance to serve again, to put their skills to use, whether the city welcomed them or not. It was more than he could have hoped for.

He worked hard to pull his weight, despite the aches that still lingered in his bones, a reminder of everything he had endured. He could scarcely believe he had survived at all, especially after the shame of abandoning his people. The memory of that failure haunted him. Sometimes, he felt he didn’t deserve the simple beauty of a sunset, the warmth of the light that touched his face, or the chance to live another day.

"Oh, Jaheira—I'm sorry," he said, startled from his thoughts. He bowed his head slightly, stepping aside to make room for her. "I was just taking a moment to myself. I'll get back to helping the others with the relief efforts soon." His voice faltered, a hint of shame creeping in. "My body… it’s not as strong as it used to be," he confessed, offering a forced smile. He wondered if he would ever truly recover from what he had endured. But even if he didn't, he was determined to lend his sword whenever needed, to fight until his last breath.

He glanced out over the city, a small smile breaking through his weariness. "Baldur's Gate is starting to look the way it once did," he said softly, his gaze drifting off, lost in memory. He wished he could do the same for Elturel, to see his people’s home restored to its former glory. He could still picture the city before the descent into Avernus—the towers standing proud, the lanterns lighting up the streets, the river gleaming under the midday sun. He longed to give that back to them, to make things right.

But doubt lingered. Was it possible to rebuild after such loss? To reclaim what had been taken? He wasn't sure. Yet, standing here, beside Jaheira, he felt the faintest flicker of hope—a belief that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance to set things right.

[adorectrine]

"Your name, Hellrider. Speak your name."

The voice seemed to carry from everywhere and nowhere at once. It was clear and cold; a stark contrast to the oppressive heat and the thick smoke, which rolled over the dusty plane. In it, the red Tiefling's armour shimmered like a blaze of silver.

Fiery white eyes watched the adult, whom they had separated intentionally after Elthurel had fallen. Her clawed feet scraped across the floor and her wings were spread wide, blanketing the sky above her. Zariel was slowly wandering around the Hellrider, not taking her eyes off him. He looked new. Not like those, who had betrayed her. However, that did not mean he did not have to pay for what he had done.

"Tell me, young paladin", Zariel commanded, "What made you join the Hellriders? Do you really believe they would accept something like you? Or do they think that by taking you in, they are absolving themselves of their guilt?"

Zevlor’s breath was shallow, each inhale tainted with the sharp, sulfuric air of Avernus. He stood alone under Zariel’s penetrating gaze, her wings stretched out like the very night sky, her voice cutting through the roar of nearby flames and the echo of distant screams. The heat pressed in from every side, but Zariel’s gaze was cold—colder than any judgment he had known.

“My name… is Zevlor.” He forced the words past his dry throat, voice low but steady. He could feel the weight of her mockery as she circled him, her words pressing on wounds he thought he’d long since buried. Why had he joined the Hellriders? Why had he clung to the ideal of redemption so fiercely, even knowing the others viewed him as little more than a curiosity? A tool. A token of their atonement.

Her words echoed like a taunt in his mind. Did he truly believe they accepted him? Or was he just a pawn, a convenient way for them to ease their conscience? But he pushed down the doubt, letting his heart blaze with a raw determination. “I joined because…I have to believe there’s honor to be found, even here. Even in this place.” His voice was barely a whisper, but it held conviction.

He braced himself, every muscle tense, feeling the gravity of her judgment like a sword hanging above him.

[dark-and-kawaii]

The tenderest & handsomest man of Faerun ♡ ♡ ♡

Awh, absolutely adore this artwork so freaking much xoxo I bet his lips are so warm and soft against your skin.

Imagine feeling him press a sweet kiss to your palm after such a long day ♡

Thank you so much for thinking of me and tagging me love bug ♡

May I offer you this today 😌

[reverieblondie]

When things end too soon....

A/N: So I swear I saw a request for Rolan and some steamy premature ejaculation... But now I don't see it... so I'm posting these drabbles anyways!

I hope you enjoy these short little treats ♡₊˚

Warning 18+ MDNI, Fem!reader, (please forgive my blurry pictures!)

Rolan, Gale, Zevlor, and Aradin

Rolan

His gleaming eyes stay fixed on you from across the Inn. Everyone is in the swing of celebration, and though he has thanked you once already, he wants to do more. So, with a swig of the wine bottle, he tries to drink in some courage before he pushes off the last light bar and nervously makes his way to you. Of course, as soon as he approaches you, your lips are curling into the sweetest of smiles, your eyes drinking in his form as he stands tall before you. Rolan feels his face warming and his chest getting tighter as he stands so close to you now, but he swallows it down and puts up that arrogant facade with that confident smile thanking you again.

“You want to thank me again? You're not going to try and give me money again are you? I told you I don’t want that.”

“No, no, I just figured you and I could… share a drink somewhere… more private?” 

Rolan tries not to let his nervousness show or how his tail is twisting to betray him as you look him up and down in contemplation. Then you smile and lean in close.

“Lead the way…”

In the back of Last Light Inn, the normally quiet area filled with only the sound of the steady stream has new noises within its air. Hot breaths and the rustling of clothes married with muffled moans of two people getting lost in each other for the first time. Rolan couldn’t help but let your name fumble from his lips as you tangled your fingers through his chestnut hair and ran your tongue up the column of his throat. His tail is coiled tightly around your leg as you push him further against the Inn's wall. 

Gods he thought he would be the one to take the lead, to get you out here and sweep you up in a passionate kiss like in those romance covers. To lay you down upon the ground and show you how much he appreciates you, for you to be the one moaning his name as your body squirms and twitches in anticipation… but like you always manage to do, you don’t follow his plan, and you surprise him. 

Now, here you two are; the roles in his plan have been reversed and are only adding to his fantasy. You pinned his taller frame to the wall and leaned in to kiss him first, your hands doing quick work to explore him and make him even more hot and desperate for you. You managed to strip him down and lay him in the dirt before you joined him. You had made him whimper and pant as you slowly stripped before him, teasing him with how you ran your hands over your nipples down to your dripping cunt touching yourself in front of him. 

Rolan's throat was dry, and his aching cock throbbed as he watched you. Then, in an act of mercy, you sank down to your knees, crawling on top of him, positioning your wet sex over his swollen length, tempting him more with your wet heat so close to where he needed to feel you.

Instead of immediately sinking down and letting his ridged length push and stretch your insides, you just rubbed your slick over his cock. Teasing yourself on his hot ridges, you moved your hips over him so slowly, shuddering and gasping every time his curved tip nudged your clit, then the honeyed words came. 

“So good Rolan… You feel so good…” 

Rolan couldn’t help but moan and throb at your praise. His hands come to your hips to help you grind further. The sound of your heavenly breath and your hands bracing against his chest just further spurred him on as he rolled his hips in tandem with you. Then both of your resolves started to crumple…

“Ah- good boy Rolan… just like that… so good for me~” 

Rolans heart skipped and his hips rutted against your cunt in an erratic pace, he needed you closer, to drown himself in this moment. His heart raced, his breath getting shallower, and his cock throbbing at your praise. 

“Yeah? I’m good?” His eyes were hazy as he looked up to you. Those rings of gold stretched thin from how dilated they were. 

“Very good Rolan… The best.”

Gods, he wanted to slip it in and feel your cunt suck him in and clench on him like a vice… but when you looked into his eyes and smiled down at him, it all just snapped… and before he could take you, satisfy you, he was cumming in hot spurts all over his stomach. He couldn’t help but tremble and shake as you continued to grind and watch him come undone for you. Finally Rolan has to still your hips with a whine from his parted lips. You halt your grinding and take in the ruined wizard underneath you. 

Rolan's cheeks were so flushed, his nails digging into the ground as he stuttered soft apologies… he felt like such a disappointment for cumming too soon. Fuck he was supposed to thank you… but yet again, he just takes your kindness. Rolan averts his eyes in shame, but instead of criticizing him like he expected, you only smile as you gently move his jaw so his eyes are back to yours, your hand slipping down his neck to his flushed chest, down to his over-sensitive cock, rubbing your thumb over the tip making it twitch with a swell again…

“Rolan… you're so beautiful when you look like this… makes me want more…” 

Rolan smiled and nodded his head breathlessly as you began to adjust his cock, softly pumping it till hard… then lining him up to your tight entrance… “Anything you want…”

Gale

He commented on your smell…why the hell would he comment on your smell… he had honestly meant it in a positive way, but of course, in his ramblings, that fact got lost…he needs to make this right, smooth this over with you, the last thing Gale wants is for you to think he doesn't find you or your musk unpleasurable. In fact, if allowed, he's sure he would indulge himself in it… though perhaps he will keep that to the chest for now. Gale had inquired about your whereabouts from Karlach, who, of course, told him with a cheeky grin and pointed him towards the river, and so he made his way down to make a proper apology. 

Gale didn't mean to catch you while bathing, but he couldn't say it wasn't a pleasant surprise. Though always the gentleman, he covered his eyes as soon as he grasped his sense back from his lust filled brain. “Sorry to disturb you…” he said with both hands over his eyes, face down and bashful.

Gale's ears perk up when you giggle, “I’m not disturbed, just simply… washing up; care to join me?” 

Gale swallows, moving his hands down slowly to see you in the water, your body submerged to the shoulder, danm… wait, no!

“You wouldn't mind?” 

“I would love the company; being out here can be quite boring. So I wouldn't mind some conversation, maybe where we left off about my… what was it? Musk?” 

Well, of course he couldn't refuse your innocent request… Plus, this gives him the chance to clear the air. Though now it turns out that request wasn't so innocent… but he did finally get to tell you how much he enjoys your smell. 

It started friendly, exchanging flirty jokes and shy smiles, which turned into warm glances, which morphed into longing stares as you two inched closer and closer. Then you took the plunge and leaned into him. 

Gods, how long has it been?  He thought as his tongue sought yours to finally taste you. It had been so long since he kissed someone in the flesh, let alone touched someone… and your body… your soft skin and alluring smell… just made him fall further into you. Then you started to touch him. And that was simply divine. 

First, it was your hands on the nape of his neck going down to his shoulders, then his chest, then further still… Gale moaned into your lips as your touch washed over him. You made him feel so precious, so desired, then before Gale could make sense of it, he's breaking the kiss and wrapping your legs around his hips. That's when you felt his cock, hard and eagerly pushing against you as he drove his nose into your hair and grabbed the plump of your ass harder… desperate to hang onto this moment of bliss. This small moment is just for you two, alone at last, and letting everything wash over you two. 

Then your hand moves down past his coarse hairs and wraps around his cock. Gale had to hold his tongue and his body still as you began pumping his cock so agonizingly slow… Gale gasps, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he shudders from the feel of your hand sliding over his length, your pace getting faster and faster, tracing over every vein, moaning in his ear as his heart rate picks up. 

“I want to feel you, Gale… every inch…” 

Gale loses himself, his mind going to the sweet thoughts of you finally wrapping around him, the noise you will make, the clenching of your cunt so tight… to feel your warmth… so snug and all for him… gale can’t help himself, digging his blunt nails into your ass as his hips start to rut matching your pace, so ready to stick it in and have your moaning into the endlessly starry sky. But before such a picture can be painted, Gale feels his mind numb, and his body suddenly shudders with a groan he tries to bite back. -Danmit… 

“Apologies… I didn’t… it's been…so long since I’ve… well, since I’ve held anyone much less-.” You silence him with a kiss, your tongue pushing past his parted hips and twisting his wet hair around your fingers, pulling him in closer… making him so much more infatuated… 

“We can pick this up in my tent, deal?” another one of your sweet requests he would be a fool to refuse. 

Zevlor 

Zevlor felt so awkward at the party; in his youth, he always joined in the celebration with dancing and drinking, and though he was no bard, he did have some talent when it came to strumming a lute. Though… At his age now, he thought it was better to observe rather than join the mayhem of a celebration. Zevlor was used to becoming a silent observer the more he did it. All he ever seems to do now is watch over others as they live. A Lot of times, his observations would just lead to him being bored and roaming back to somewhere quiet, but tonight, his sights are on you… 

He didn't mean to stare at you… but you are just so captivating, swaying with the music, drinking cheers with your commerads and talking to his kin with a kind smile…. Truly so captivating…he thinks as he keeps his eyes steady on you as you dance with Shadowheart. If it had been in his youth, he would have sauntered over and danced with you, spinning you around so close so you could feel the heat of his body, to squeeze your soft skin so gently… just to touch you, smell you… Taste you.  

Lost in his reverie, he doesn't notice when you wave bye to Shadowheart and walk over to where he sits at the edge of your camp. Only when you're blooping down beside him does he snap out of his running thoughts and look over to your smiling face so close and your bright eyes on his. Captivating… 

“Gold piece for your thoughts?” 

Zevlor stifles a laugh before drinking… if only you knew the perverted place his mind was mere moments ago…

“Ah, Don’t waste your gold. You shouldn't waste your celebration listening to an old man like me ramble; you should be out talking to those so eager for your attention.” 

Your face slightly falls, “well, I came seeking yours…” 

Zevlor feels his whole body flush. " No-no… I mean.” Zevlor swallows; he hasn't stuttered like this since his days as a new recruit. He turns to you and gently places his hand on yours, his eyes locked to yours, ready to take a chance and bring back that once unwavering courage…. “Do you know what those words spur within me? What you do to me?”

You light up at those words and twist your legs so they are against his, “I'm hoping it's the same as what seeing you does to me…”

Zevlor feels his heartbeat thrum and feels like he just can’t quite catch his breath. You grab his hand tighter, tracing your finger over the protruding veins on his crimson skin.

“Will you follow me?” 

Of course, he followed you… he just didn’t think it would have led to this… to you taking his hand in yours as you walk into your isolated tent. Now, here he is, taking a shuddering breath as your peppering kisses along his strong jaw and your hands push down his trousers in inpatient enthusiasm. It's been so long since someone has wanted him so feverishly… and he refuses to disappoint you. 

With his pants pushed down past his knees his cock hard and pebbling slaps heavy against you as you start to grind yourself against him. Zevlors eyes roll in bliss as the feeling of your sticky slick coating his cock. Then your soft hands hold onto his shoulders as you bring your lips to his ear, “Fuck me…please Zevlor…” 

Zevlors eyes roll as your tongue starts to roll over his ear. Gods, now you're begging so sweetly beneath him… your body so flushed, your hot little tongue running over him down to his neck. He tries to keep in the growling groan you're causing him as your slick coats him, but when you start leaving sloppy kisses on his neck with light nips… it just slips out of him, and to his delight, that just makes you wrap your legs around his waist and hold onto him tighter.

With the confidence boost, Zevlor smiles at the new possession, your body practically trembling for him. Zevlor lets his hands roam all over your curves, his cock throbbing as he tries to take this slow, to let you enjoy. But if he’s honest, he’s going mad, with your wet heat so close and drooling for him he just can’t help himself anymore and his calm demeanor slightly falters as he angles his hips and sinks into you with a quick snap of his hips. Your snug cunt is already quivering on his length in an instant, and it makes his eyes roll as he relishes feeling you so deep. 

Then in a lust-drunk haste, he starts fucking you, in and out, slapping against you as your hands bury themselves in his hair, holding tightly as his pace gets rougher and rougher. The head of his cock pushes against your cervix making your eyes water and toes curl. He just needs to make you cum then he can finish into your womb… fuck, he wants to feel you cum, and have you make a mess all over him. Zevlor is not sure why, but the idea of getting you to your pleasure makes him feel whole… useful… wanted…

Zevlor looks down at you, your body sweating, your chest bouncing, and your lips moaning his name, but the thing that makes his whole body shiver is your eyes… how they see him when so many overlook him, look past him… you see him.

Before he can think better to slow down, his nails are tearing into your bedroll, and he's rutting into your cunt like a damn animal. You whimper and moan with every thrust, trying so hard to hold onto him, digging your nails into his back, wrapping your legs around his hips. And that's the final straw… wrapping your shaking legs around him to let him sink deeper to keep him with you. Zevlor feels his mind blank and with a rough grunt and a tremble of his tail. He cums. 

Zevlor pauses, his breath ragged as he stares down at your surprised face… “I-I apologize… it's just..” then he feels your hips grinding up with a giddy smile on your face, “Fill me up again Zevlor, Please…”

Of course, whatever you desire…

Aradin 

You irritate him… granted, everyone in this damned grove seems to irritate him, but you? With your do-gooder attitude… always trying to be so helpful… it's infuriating. Then, anytime Aradins is around, you two are arguing! Your face stern as you stare up at him…. How close your body gets… so fucking close he could just grab you and shut you up. You would properly punch him before he even gets the chance to wrap his arms around your waist and silence you with a kiss… 

Even though you piss him off, he has to admit you are beautiful and have some fighting skills. Like when you saved his hide at the gate, you were so swift with a sword, and the way you just saved him and his crew, no questions, no second thought… he should have thanked you, not be such a smug bastard… why didn’t he thank you…

Now you have plagued him… he’s forced to sit in this damned grove and see you prancing about talking and helping everyone you see… he hates it, how selfless you are, it’s stupid… he wishes he could go up to you, and shake you, demand you be selfish and take care of yourself. Or let him join you and help you however you want. Damn it all… he can’t say that… he's too much of a coward… a prick you would rather see in the maul of a gnoll than in your camp or even your bedroll…

“Ariadin?” Suddenly, Aradin is broken from his thoughts by the sound of your voice. When he finally looks at you, you have a confused, maybe worried look on your face because, of course you do. 

He rolls his eyes, “What do you want?” Why is he already snapping at you?

Your face looks hurt at first, and his stomach starts to sink. Then your brow furrows. Before he can say anything, a loaf of bread smacks him in the face. He catches it and looks at you confused. “We found some extra rations, and I haven't seen you eat with the others… but forget it… just take it.” 

You start walking off.  Aridan runs his hand over his head in frustration as he holds the bread tightly. Why is he such an idiot? Aridan looks at your fleeing figure, and before he knows it, he slams the bread down on the table and follows you. 

Your argument ended up with you two screaming at each other in the woods deep within the woods. He had wanted to apologize to just talk, but you were so hard-headed… Why couldn’t you just let him apologize? Why couldn’t he just tell you how he really felt? Why is this all so fucked!  

With a groan and a roll of his eyes, Araidan finally cracks, “Oh fuck this!” 

“Fuck this?  You-” Before you can finish, Aridan is grabbing your waist and pulling you close, his lips crashing to yours in desperate hunger. But instead of pushing away and kicking his ass… you're leaning in and burying your fingers into his brown curls. Passion has taken over, and as he slides his tongue past your lips, finally sliding against yours, he's so grateful to hear your soft moaning that he quickly devours. 

Aradin leans you blindly back till you're suddenly being pushed against a tree, your soft little hum from the collision making his cock get stiff. This is better than any of his fantasies he would imagine late at night in his tent as he emptied his cock into his callus hand. You taste better than anything he could have ever wanted… and he craves more. Hiking up your leg, he grabs handfuls of your ass, his cock painfully hard as he grinds his clothed length against your clothed cunt. 

“You drive me up…a fucking wall…” Aradin pants as he sinks down to his knees rolling down your pants in the process before he's moving your leg over his shoulder and is licking a long stripe up your slick cunt. As soon as he hears your shuddering yeses and your hand is tugging for more, he smiles, more than willing to give you as much as you can take. Ariden brings his rough hands to caress your hips as he dips in further, fucking you with his tongue while his nose drivings into your clit just to make you squeal. Ariden groans into you and takes deep whiffs of your sex, making his cock throb and his eyes roll. A fuckin dream is what you are above him like this… gods let him join your camp, and he will do this for you every night; he doesn’t see those little posh boys you got doing this for you…. He will eat you out all night if you're willing. All you gotta do is drop your trousers, and he will be on his knees for you. 

As Aradin continues to eat you like a starved man, you start to lose yourself on his face, pulling his hair hard and rolling your hips faster on his face. Gasping and screaming for more... It's the first time he’s seen you be selfish, and it's all for him. Gods, for how you're quivering on him. He knows you're close, so close to making a mess out of him. Gods please let you squirt and let him drink it in… please, Please!

It's all too much, all too good, and just like everything else in his life, the gods seem to be against him. With a sudden shudder and a groan, his hard cock is cumming in thick spurts in his pants from your taste alone. Aradins breath is ragged as he pulls away from you; he feels his face impossibly flushed as your slick covers his mouth and chin… he had wanted to do more… go further and make you cum…but no…he’s fucked up with you again by cumming in his pants…fuck!

Then suddenly his face is getting lifted up and he’s looking at your smirking face, he grimaces unsure of what you will do next but that's when you surprise him, “Clean yourself up and meet me back here tonight… I’m not done with you yet.” 

Aridan looks up at you with a slack jawed expression as you redo your pants and give him a chaste kiss swiping your tongue over his lips stealing a taste of your arousal before walking off. 

“I…I will…” he finally musters. He can’t mess this up, he won’t mess this up. 

[junowritings]

Can I request headcanons for Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with gn crush who can't genuinely can't tell if someone is being platonic or romantic to them?

Anon dear nothing but kisses thank you for the amazing request and requesting my fav Tiefs~

I'd wanted to leave the scenarios between each vague when I began this; I swear this started off small but it's now like 2am and ten pages long but here we are!

Also I've only just finished Act 2 so I may not have been too accurate with Haarlep and the others' act 3 moments but I do hope you enjoy~

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Haarlep 

♡ You’ve certainly put yourself in it this time. Managing to earn the affections of an incubus like Haarlep? You’ve either done something very right, or so very very amusing.

♡ At the House of hope the lines between affection and lust have all but blurred for Haarlep long before you showed up snooping around in places you weren’t supposed to be. You aren’t the first one to be lured in and, if the place’s owner had its way, you most certainly wouldn’t be the last; but that doesn’t mean you can’t provide some worthwhile entertainment for the incubus you stumble across in Raphael’s quarters.

♡ The second you’d poked your head into the boudoir to snoop you’d caught Haarlep’s attention, if only for the fact that you most certainly shouldn’t have been poking around so brazenly. They’ve heard your name plenty of times; heard how you’ve toed the fine line of keeping Rapael on his toes at every turn without making an enemy of him - yet. You should know better than to test the limits like this - but you don’t, and that makes the thought of killing you so wasteful to Haarlep when there’s far more amusing ways to make use of you.

♡Maybe it was merely for curiosity’s sake that they allowed you to walk in and out of the place with your life and soul intact; the potential of getting to do something - or someone - fun too tempting to pass up on after wiling the days away with the same old faces. For you to come voluntarily traipsing round the corridors of Raphael’s very ‘home’? Knowing the consequences and either too brave or too foolish to heed them? Now that piques the incubus’ interest, enough that they’re willing to let you leave after they’ve had their fun. After all, they know you won’t be able to stay away for long.

♡ You keep coming back - of course you do. You’re fun to toy with - the most amusement that they’ve had in quite a while. Even with an unwanted guest squirming around in your head and time being a precious commodity when your corner of the world is on the line, you always have a penchant for coming back for more. And they are more than content to give you those reasons to keep coming back; you’ll never stray for long now that they’ve got their claws into you, of that they’re certain.

♡ Oftentimes your visits aren’t with the promise of fulfilling desires - at least not the carnal ones. Instead you make a habit of sneaking into Raphael’s boudoir just to keep them company, flashing them that mischievous grin as you stretch out onto that luxurious bed and eagerly pat the space beside you. Haarlep feigns the role of a lover well - they’ve had enough centuries to hone their craft after all. So even they know when the line between a mere amusement and something more affectionate begin to blur together when it comes to you. It's gradual, of course - those simple hours listening to you rattle away about the latest scandalous adventure as they gently card clawed fingers through your hair; watching those little twinges of content pleasure on your face as you lean into their touch almost instinctively. 

♡ Haarlep is intimate by nature, always wanting to keep a hand on you at all times no matter the form that they take. Even in the most mundane circumstances you’ll find claws rubbing soft circles into your sides, a head perched upon the crook of your shoulder and warm breaths against your ear just close enough to get you to squirm or playfully push them away. If they’re feeling particularly greedy they’ll hide you away from the world within their wings, pulling your attention to focus purely on them as their tail curls loosely around your leg.

♡ The first night that you make the mistake of drifting off right there in the incubus’ arms is the day that Haarlep puts a face to the emotion that rattles awake within their chest. When was the last time they had felt such affection? Adored for merely existing? The concept of love is inherently foreign for someone like Haarlep, who has long released any such ties the moment they were contracted to be Raphael’s personal mirror in bed. And yet the feeling is relished nonetheless. 

♡ Be it blind trust or mounting exhaustion that leads you to this they care not; they’re far more focused on engraving every little contour of your face to their mind, running a finger down the curve of your jaw with a pleased hum. Such a hopeless one they’ve managed to fall for - if only you knew just how much you drew them in.

♡ Haarlep knows full well that you must be a little clueless to keep willingly coming back to the incubus without thought of the potential consequences. One would mistake you for a fool, or someone who values their life so little - but you’re neither (most of the time), and it doesn’t take much for Haarlep to clock onto why that is. You’re hopeless at differentiating between platonic and romantic advances; poor thing. A better person would take pity on you, perhaps assuage your inner turmoil with a few simple words. But when the alternative is being able to get you squirm with just enough hints to keep you on your proverbial toes? Well, who could fault them for keeping you guessing? 

♡ Out of all of them, Haarlep is more than happy to keep you spinning with this ‘will they won’t they’ game that they have circling around your head all of the time. Why waste a good thing with something so frivolous when they already have you right where they want you? Away from prying eyes, tucked away in their arms as they make your head spin with honeyed words and teasing remarks of your little conundrum. There’s no need to spoil the party by putting a name to the blatant feelings that lay thick in the air, is there?

♡That’s what they believe at least while they have you. But alas there’s always the inevitable departure - time is ticking on the surface world, your world. And you can’t spend all of your days in the House of Hope for them to seek out whenever they wish, though the idea becomes more and more appealing with each passing day. They're always reluctant to see you leave, hoping to tempt you back with teases and promises, all the while their hands are on your hips and his tail is back to curling around your ankle as though intent on convincing you to stay. 

♡ They allow you to slip from their claws if you insist, but don’t think you won’t have eyes on you until the very second that you disappear through that portal, contemplating pulling you right back for one selfish reason or another. They have teased and pulled at your heartstrings about missing you before - a comment once said in jest to rile you up - but this time Haarlep’s the one who feels the familiar tug as they slink back to their familiar stage. There’s the ripple of shifting bones and infernal magic rippling through them as they don your form, standing before the mirror within Raphael’s quarters as they bring a hand up to affectionately caress the flesh of their - your - cheek. An imitation of the real thing, but it serves its purpose as they anticipate your return.

♡ Perhaps, they decide as they map out every inch of this reflection of you, they will wrap this little game up sooner than they thought. Better for the cat to snatch you up before a fox does, hm?

Dammon

♡ Nothing’s been easy since long before Dammon and the other Tieflings took up the journey to Baldur’s gate, hoping for a better life than the ones that they’re leaving behind. He’s had to leave a lot of things behind in pursuit of that better life - his forge and his tools, anything he couldn’t carry or risk going back for. Hells, he was limited to the clothes on his back and the essentials he’d been fortunate enough to take with him; but that was all he had left of his old life, and Dammon knows the others are the same. It’s not just material possessions either - any plans he once had about his future went up in smoke months ago, instead clinging to the hope of forging some kind of livelihood in the city when they finally arrived. Anything other than that? Any dreams of love? A partner? A family? A dream is all they’re set to remain as.

♡ Dammon’s thankful that there’s plenty of things to keep him busy. Sure the forge and tools at the grove don’t hold a candle to his setup back at his old place but it’s an excellent way to keep himself occupied whenever he finds himself getting restless and itching for the outlet of familiarity. While things remain a stalemate between the Tieflings and the druids, he passes the time helping where he can, repairing armor and weapons with what limited materials he has to make sure that no one’s going out there completely unarmed. It’s good work for now, and lets him stave off the pining, leaving the humored thoughts of kindling anything romantic with anyone for the lonely nights at his forge or tucked away in his books.

♡ That all changed once you came along of course.

♡ Your mere presence is a whirlwind of a tale in itself. Armor bashed and dented from something much larger than goblins, weapon looking as though it’s one good swing away from snapping in two. Hells, it looks like you took a tumble from a damned cliff and walked it off - a thought he admits to a few days after your first meeting. He decides it’s probably best not to ask when you laugh, patting his back with a shake of your head as you chuckle that he doesn’t know the half of it. Wherever you came from you’ve taken a hell of a beating, and yet you still look ready to take on the world as you amble over to his forge to browse his wares and introduce yourself to the tiefling.

♡ You make yourself known about the Grove, making fast friends with some and tolerable allies in others. Dammon’s firmly in the former category, and really enjoys having you around. Even if you don’t know much about smithing you humor him whenever he talks about his craft, listening with an eager ear whenever he gets that bright glint in his eye that signals he’s going to go on a tangent. Don’t mention it though - it will fluster him to the hells and back to know that you notice that kind of stuff. Not to mention you respect his space while he’s working. Dammon’s focus when his working is honed in on defining details and making each piece perfect in his own way, so it's easy to lose track of what’s going on around him when he’s bent over his forge with his newest labor of love. 

♡ Maybe that’s why you’re able to catch him by surprise so often, startled out of his own reverie spotting you leaning against the beam of his makeshift workspace. You comment how amazing it is to see him so immersed in his craft - it’s inspiring, really - and that small appraisal alone has his face turning a lovely shade of copper. His work’s been praised before - it’s the highlight of his days seeing people genuinely appreciate the things he creates with his own hands. But being the one receiving such praise rather than the items he makes does something to his poor heart.

♡Dammon recognizes that he’s beginning to fall for you. It’s not something that hits him all at once, more like a gradual wave of affections that wash over him with each little greeting or rushed wave as you dart around the camp and back out again on the next adventure. It makes him feel…lighter, warmer. He’s tried to remain hopeful about what the future holds, to keep morale going in his own way; but he’s just as uncertain about it all as the others are. But having you around? Seeing the lengths that you go to - both from the issues at the Grove to the attack on the inn and the conflict at Moonrise? That kind of life that he had to push on the backburner feels feasible now - and you’re beginning to become an integral part of it at every turn.

♡ Dammon’s love language is acts of service, so you can expect him to go out of his way to do things for you to make your life easier. It starts off small; giving you discounts on anything you buy from him and little freebies he can spare whenever things aren’t so dire. Dammon always believes that you deserve more however, so eventually you can find him going out of his way to fashion whatever materials he can spare into things for you. 

♡ He’s no jewel smith, but he knows his own craft well, so he’ll gift you things that he knows you’ll find useful - weapons . He’ll refuse any kind of payment you try to give him, assuring you that you deserve far more after all you’ve done as he gently presses your gold back into your palm with a warm smile, his touch lingering a little longer than necessary. 

♡And yet you still wonder why the party strong-arms you into being the designated buyer whenever you stop by his forge for repairs or supplies - your lack of awareness is going to give Gale more gray hairs at this rate.

♡ The only problem with Dammon’s acts of service, is that it’s very easy to mistake these gestures as him just being a good person - which he is! You’ve seen how easily he goes out of his way to help others in a pinch. You were there when he went through all of that effort to help Karlach curb her infernal engine enough to give her the chance for closeness that she’d been deprived of for years. (after all she’d almost cracked your ribs returning the hug you’d given her to test if Dammon’s upgrade had worked.) It’s easy for you to rationalize all of his gifts as something that’s just platonic - you couldn’t hope for more, right?

♡ Dammon wishes so badly that you would.

♡Is certainly the most upfront about his crush out of all of the tieflings once he realizes that you struggle to discern any romantic intentions. Though he does worry that he’s the one misreading the situation and that you may not actually reciprocate the feelings he has for you, in the end it doesn’t stop him. He needs to get his feelings out there before they burn over - especially with what could very well be the end of the world dangling over everybody’s heads by the time you all finally reach Baldur’s gate. If he doesn’t do it now, he worries you’ll never get the chance to figure it out for yourself. 

♡ He’ll call you away from your companions, asking for a moment of your time at the back of his shop. Tucked away in the far corner of his workplace, it reminds him of back at the Grove curled over his forge with you by his side watching him work with a quiet admiration. The memory gives him the confidence to reach for your hand, noting the way your eyes widen and your breath catches. You’ve fought gods and toppled cults, and yet you’re left speechless by his touch? As if the tiefling couldn’t fall for you any more. 

♡ If he had his way, Dammon would give you something far better than just spilling his feelings, something more profound than just words. But he knows better, that you’re on borrowed time and a small moment whisked away in the back of his forge is all he can give you right now - with promises for a proper date and confession when you come back alive.

♡ Expect Dammon to go overboard with the gift though, because of course he won’t just leave it at words. He keeps flipping between something classic like flowers and sweet treats (maybe even craft some metalwork flowers himself?); or perhaps you’d like something more practical like a weapon or armor with custom engraving (that he absolutely put his signature on in the hopes it will remind you of him when you’re on the road.) In the end he decides to go with a combination of both, carefully tucked away somewhere safe to give to you whatever your answer may be.

Rolan

♡ The idea of a crush was, at the beginning, a laughable notion to Rolan. Back at the Grove his priority was focused on two things and two things alone - one, getting to Baldur’s gate to begin the apprenticeship he’s dreamed of for months; and two, getting Cal and Lia there with him in one piece. Anything beyond that was unimportant, at least, that’s what he told himself at the time to make the idea of leaving the Grove without the rest of them more palatable. But then of course some newcomer just had to step in during one of the bi-daily spats about it and that whole idea went up in the air along with whatever patience he may have had.

♡ You’d convinced him to stay, convinced him not to pack up and leave in just one conversation and he’d bended to your interjection just like that. Rolan still doesn’t know why he conceded, watching with furrowed brows as Lia rounded on you excited to figure out how you did that and Cal sighing in relief that the whole argument was finally over with. It doesn’t matter - soon you’ll be right back out of those gates, just another soul passing through, and you’d be gone as though you never existed in the first place.

♡ If only it was that simple, but no, you just had to stick around instead of carrying on your way. Perhaps it would have saved his heart the trouble if you hadn’t.

♡ His feelings are misplaced, mistaken for frustration watching you traipse around fixing problems he hasn’t been able to. At first it’s jealousy - another ugly feeling he won’t admit. How do you make helping people look so easy? Breathing life into the cracks that have formed between the two groups and patching them up as simply as you breathe? 

♡ It doesn’t help that you stop by to see him every time, a habit that persists long after your time in the Grove. Rolan believes it’s out of pity and the wizard is ready to give you an earful about it. But the longer you stick around the more he has to come to terms with the fact that it’s nothing as malicious as that - you just enjoy coming to see him, for whatever reason. Rolan doesn’t know at what point your company becomes more than tolerable, even enjoyable - but the idea of it being anything more than that, with anyone much less you, is a far off notion.

♡ Of course he doesn’t expect to fall for someone, and he most certainly doesn’t expect it to be you. He’s a stubborn soul, who is just as reluctant to come to terms with his own feelings, much less the realization that these feelings aren’t the closely guarded secret he believed them to be. 

♡ All it takes Cal makes an offhand comment once about how Rolan’s ‘complaints’ about you these days sound more like praises - that if he didn’t know any better it sounds like he actually loves having you around. And just like that Rolan very nearly chokes on the drink he was unfortunate enough to be imbibing in at the time. 

♡ Him? Have feelings for YOU?! You, some wayward adventurer with a penchant for sticking your nose in where it doesn’t rightly belong out of some presumed sense of duty to this little wayward band of Tieflings? Who goes out of your way to seek out his company again and again no matter how harshly he comes off in return? Who humors his temper, grins at his sarcastic wit, and gives him that damned smile that sometimes makes the warmth in his chest feel like it’s shooting straight up to his throat threatening to spill-

♡ Oh.

♡ Oh no.

♡ The lightbulb pings simultaneously, and it's a good thing you’re not around to hear his siblings absolutely losing it over the knowledge that their brother is stuck pining over you. Not even a few weeks ago he was cussing you out over some perceived slight that was childish in hindsight, spurred on by his own feelings of helplessness. But now? You still made his blood boil, but gods if it didn’t feel like his blood burned for you now.

♡ Rolan’s way of flirting is by showing off to you. He believes that his greatest asset to impress you is his magic, and is fully prepared to use the arsenal of non-lethal spells at his disposal in an attempt to get you swooning. During the celebration at the Grove he remembers fondly the sound of your applause at his performance, your eyes alight with mirth as the sky right above your heads came alive with the results of his magic. The satisfaction of witnessing your face light up in the glow had been worth it; you’d rolled your eyes at his admittedly overdramatic bow but still grinned as your expression softened in embers of the campfire. It still has that warmth Rolan’s begun associating with you kindling in his chest, so he sets on impressing you every chance he gets, with the hope that just maybe it’ll be enough to kindle a warmth within you too.

♡ Rolan insists that he’s not outright confessing to you because surely you already know? Granted he hasn’t been the most…open, about his feelings, nor has he been very direct in his approach where others would have been bold…

♡ Oh who is he kidding - the thought of your rejection scared off any attempts to confess before this point. You’ve always been there - coming in every time there’s been mortal peril to save his life and the lives of his family again and again. It’s hard not to feel as though he’s got nothing to give every time you prove your resilience - would you even want him after you’ve seen him at his worst? He’d much rather live with the torment than know the answer to that question, even if it gnaws at him every night.

♡ Before you ask, yes there’s a betting pool on who’s going to confess first. What began as an inside joke spread like wildfire amongst the group the second Mol caught wind of the lucrative deal. Rolan doesn’t know what’s more mortifying - the fact that his affections are blatantly obvious enough to everyone around the pair of you, or that despite all of this you’re the only one who has no idea.

♡ Someone else is going to have to break the stalemate that’s going on here and convince him to confess. Not just for your sake or Rolan’s, but because your respective groups are getting fed up with the building tension with no-one saying anything. Gods you can’t both be this dense can you?

♡ Yes. Yes you can. And no one is having a good time right now.

♡ Fortunately for the both of you, the aftermath of Moonrise is when the dam finally breaks on all of the things that Rolan’s been holding back. Loose lips sink ships, and in Rolan’s case all of the drinks he’d imbibed earlier attempting to drown his sorrows at the last light inn have eased the filter that kept his feelings at bay. It’s made him far more prone to speaking his mind, not to mention that he’s still reeling from the rush of relief at seeing his siblings alive - yet another thing he has to thank you for - so much so that he’s seeking you out before he can think otherwise.

♡ He doesn’t have to go far; you and Rolan nearly butt heads as he goes to shoot up from his seat, and though you look worse for wear still bearing the bruises and battered gear of a battle well won he watches your expression light up. All it takes is seeing you’ve come back alive, that you’ve come straight to him before you’ve even thought to patch yourself up and his resolve crumbles. 

♡ Rolan’s out of his chair and in your arms before you can blink, one hand winding through your hair and the other pressed against your back to stop you from falling flat on your ass with how swift he moves as he holds you like you’ll slip right through his fingers. He swears he can hear your heart hammering against his chest, too focused to notice the twitch of his tail curled round your leg. By the time he catches himself, Rolan practically goes rigid and pulls back, enough to see your face. The tiefling takes in your wide eyes and slack jaw with a sudden jolt of clarity that fuck, you really weren’t aware of what you were to him this whole time; and now he’s gone and-

♡ He opens his mouth again - whether to take it back or blame it on the drink. But before he can there’s arms around him, and suddenly he’s back in his chair with your face pressed into the crook of his neck, and he swears he sees a flash of red on your face enough to rival his own skin. You hold him tight enough that he has to focus a little to breathe, but it’s a sacrifice he makes gladly as his ears pick up on your hurried murmurs of ‘having no idea’ and ‘can’t believe it’ as you practically corner him into his seat.

♡ The moment is broken by the swift screech of “Finally!” from somewhere in the inn, and suddenly the world’s spinning again. Rolan’s glare over your shoulder in a bid to suss out the offending party is half-hearted, lacking any real bite in lieu of having someone far more important to focus his attention on.

Zevlor

♡ Welcome to slow burn two: electric boogaloo, and in this essay I will-

♡ Zevlor has not lived an easy life, even before the fall of Elturel; you can tell he’s got more than his fair share of scars and war stories behind those deep yellow eyes, the testament of a man who fights daily to hold the pieces of his hope and faith close to his heart. He’s a weathered soul, who many have relied on and put their faith in even in spite of his own perceived shortcomings. The tieflings that he leads to safe pastures are no different; they’re all hoping to find a better life at Baldur’s gate, and all of them turn to Zevlor to lead them all there. 

♡ The relief is almost palpable when you arrive through those gates, dragging Aradin and his men in behind you. You’d made short work of the goblins fighting to tear their way inside, still plucking bits of arrow and guts from the battered shell of your armor as you’d wandered into the Grove alongside the rest of your party. 

♡ He has every reason to believe that you’ll simply go on your way, knowing that you’re more than capable enough to handle the threats out on the road to leave the Grove in your peripherals without a second thought. Yet you don’t; instead you’re right back into the fray, pushing between the spat between himself and Aradin without hesitation with a sharp reminder that there’s more here at stake than some squabbling about something that could have - but didn’t - happen.

♡ Zevlor isn’t proud to admit that he’d hoped you’d be useful in easing tensions in the grove between the Tieflings and the druids. You’re a neutral third party, so to speak, and though he’s sure that the druids are set on locking down the grove and kicking them out to the wilds he hopes that someone like you will be able to at least buy them all some time. When that inevitably didn’t work he’s surprised to learn you’ve set your sights on the next best thing - forget just the goblins at the gate, you’re gearing your party up to take on the source at the heart of that camp.

♡ He’d be lying if he said he didn’t admire you from the beginning, a feeling that only becomes more profound the longer you’re around. Zevlor watches you humor Mattis’ salesmanship, sees you taking the time to train the others to better defend themselves and diffusing any quarrels on the daily rounds that you insist on joining the Tiefling on. It has a visible impact on the camp’s morale, and Zevlor has to wonder if you were truly just a passing adventurer or something more divine sent to them in their hour of need when he catches you conversing with the other tieflings, bringing smiles to their faces after months of hardships.

♡Another firm member of the ‘won’t broach the blatant pining in the room’ club. Zevlor’s lived long enough to put a name to the emotions that he’s feeling, and has taken the time to process what exactly that means when it comes to his feelings for you specifically. What he feels for you runs deeper than respect, deeper than the mere admiration that he held for you at your first encounter beyond the gates. 

♡You consume his thoughts every second that you’re not close to his side. Worries himself into a panic each time you leave the safety of the grove wanting to follow but kept rooted with his own duties. You’re more than capable of defending yourself as you’ve demonstrated time and time again, but gods if he doesn’t lament not being there to protect you as ardently as you do to others. It would be selfish to want such a thing, but it doesn’t stop him from craving it in the least.

♡ Out of every single being on this list, there is none more reluctant to confess to you that he’s begun to fall for you than Zevlor. He knows this affection; wishes for nothing more than to allow himself this small act of greed keeping it close and savoring the warmth it provides. But unless you say something that is as far as he is willing to dare your relationship to progress. 

♡ What really stops Zevlor from confessing is himself. He firmly believes that he’s simply not worthy of you. He’s a man who has made too many mistakes, made too many choices that have led to lives lost and consequences on those around him. Surely you deserve someone unmarred by that kind of life? Who can give you love uninhibited by the guilt and ghosts of one's past that plague him on so many sleepless nights?

♡ But oh how easily you’ve got this man curled around your finger, and you don’t even know it. Now that you’ve so thoroughly poured your life into the cracks of his soul, after everything you’ve done, that selfish want kindles a fire in his heart. He’d drop to his knees and pledge you his life if it meant having you look at him with a sliver of the affection he holds for you.

♡ The closest that Zevlor’s ever gotten to confessing to you was during the after party in the Grove. It had been the first time in who knows how long that Zevlor could try to shelve his worries for the future, to allow his guard to relax for the single night of revelry that this celebration offered. A respite like this was far too welcome, and Zevlor was about as ready to fall asleep where he stood as he was to wile the hours away enjoying the revelry.

♡ And there you were, the one responsible for it all leaning up against his side, thoroughly exhausted from doing the rounds around the camp but beaming with pride. His eyes were on you the moment you pressed a hand to his shoulder, golden eyes glowing in the light of the campfire taking in your ruddy cheeks and tired grin as you sighed over how good it was to finally see him smile.

♡ Perhaps it was the longing of a sentimental old tiefling, or being half drunk on the atmosphere that seeped into every fiber of the party, but in response he’d brought a hand to cover your own. Zevlor had guided it away from his shoulder and you’d allowed him to with ease. You’d watched with curious eyes as he’d brought your hand up just enough to brush his lips across your knuckles, ghosting over bruises and scrapes with an unspoken reverence.

♡ You’d never had the chance to ask him what you’d really meant to him back then - Alfira had interjected to veer you back over to the party, eager to show you the beginnings of her next song dedicated to your feats. And by the time you’d spun around to look for him again Zevlor had all but slipped away, gone for the rest of the night.

♡ By the time you reach Baldur’s gate you’re still struggling to discern Zevlor’s feelings from that night. That’s it; no one else can wait for you to realize the obvious anymore.

♡ Someone else is going to have to step in to give you a nudge in the right direction, and not a gentle nudge either - if you’re truly struggling to see how hard Zevlor is crushing on you you’re going to need an intervention. Don’t be surprised if your traveling party is the one to bite the arrow and do it. You have no idea whether to be confused or offended when they drag you aside to break it to you and ease their suffering. Astarion is griping on about how this started off entertaining but now is downright painful to watch you two eyeballing each other and not doing anything about it. Wyll is trying to stem the migraine he gets in his attempt to really drive home that you’re not just imagining all of these romantic moments you’ve had with Zevlor. And Lae’zel is several minutes away from clocking the entire group round the heads with the hilt of her sword for wasting time.

♡ She shoulders past the other two with a biting comment about their lack of efficiency before turning her attention back onto you. Her tone is sharp but not unkind as she quips that you’re wasting breath on your own perceptions of the tiefling’s actions. What you should focus on is what you want and how to get it. Besides, even a fool would notice the way he starts at your beck and call - she’d like to believe that you’re as competent as she thinks to put the pieces together.

♡ Lae’zel’s words do the trick. They watch your brain shoot through every train of thought you’ve been battling with all at once, eyes comically large and hand clamped over your mouth in a poor attempt to mask your scream of realization as you do exactly what she says. And then the next moment you’re scrambling past your companions, a frantic command for them to meet you back at the camp before you all but trip over the pavement beneath you in your haste to seek out the former hellrider.

♡ Once you find him, Zevlor almost jumps out of his skin with how hard you barrel through the door and into his home. He’s half a mind to worry that there’s something seriously wrong, immediately rounding to close the distance between you and place his hands upon your shoulders to keep you from falling flat on your face. The questions of concern die on his tongue the moment your hand cups his face, guiding him to look at your face and thumb brushing over the ridges of his cheek in such a way his mouth runs dry.

♡ When you finally blurt out what you came here for, asking through hurried breaths if he loves you Zevlor all but freezes beneath your touch. His eyes are wide, wild with the fear that you’ve come to turn him down and fully prepared to assure you that he’ll never burden you with his feelings ever again. That is till you continue for him. All it will take is a little reassurance on your part that he has nothing to fear, that you care for him in turn, and you’ll have this poor man practically crumbling into your awaiting arms as though you’ve slipped the weight of the world from his shoulders. Give him time, hold him for a little longer, and Zevlor will gladly regale you with the feelings he’d intended to leave unsaid for the rest of his days - he’d do anything you’d ask, after all.

[wassidy-wanders-around]

Today was rough to put it lightly *cries in American* ( ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ )

But as a lot of lovely creators have said, today we grieve but we won't give up. There's still so much worth fighting for and communities that need support. ✊🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈♀️💕

I definitely needed some fluff and a half naked man to lift my spirits, but real men...naw. I just know Zevlor would be an ally, a little confused maybe but his heart would be in the right place (⁠*��˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

Oh and I refed Zevlor's pose from @null-entity big thanks ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

[dark-and-kawaii]

I just love how in love they look!!! You can legit feel the passion in this art piece xoxo ♡ ♡ ♡

When I tell you I was in awe when I saw this I mean I was in AWE!!!! Cinna babe, this is so stunning and just sooooo freaking romantic!!!

My heart is so full right now!!!

I legit can’t stop looking at it and UGHHHH AHHHHH!!!! My smile is so big each time I look at it!!! This was so much fun and such an honor to do this trade with you, beyond happy I got to do this with such a talented soul ♡ And thank you for trusting me with your story ♡

You are an absolute peach and I hope you never stub your toe again, and may all your food never be bland ♡

Please give Cinna all the love!!!

You can find the story I wrote for the talented Cinna HERE

- 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒦𝒾𝓌𝒾 𝓍𝑜𝓍𝑜

Art/fic trade with the ever lovely @dark-and-kawaii 💕 Thank you for trusting me with Lofn and her man!! This was a blast and an honor to do for an incredibly talented writer 💜

[dark-and-kawaii]

[mysticrosed]

🎀 @ourwrittenstories sent a prompt for zevlor !!

for  a  flirtatious  starter to wynter .

The sun began its descent, casting long shadows over the Emerald Grove as the echoes of the failed goblin attack faded into the distance. The grove, though still bearing the marks of battle, had a sense of tranquility returning as the defenders took stock of their victory. Amidst the remnants of the skirmish, Zevlor emerged, his armor showing signs of the recent clash. He approached the center of the grove where the Drow was, her presence a striking contrast to the chaos that had ensued. With a respectful nod, he stepped closer, his eyes reflecting both gratitude and admiration. "I must confess, I’ve always admired those who balance strength with mystery. And in you, I’ve seen both in abundance. Perhaps, when the time is right, you might share a story or two over a more pleasant setting than a battlefield?"

[adorectrine]

Minsc nudges Zevlor with a playful grin and a wink. "Ah, Zevlor! I see you have good taste, flirting with the mighty Jaheira! Boo approves, and so do I!" - anon Minsc

Zevlor stiffened at Minsc's words, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson almost instantly. "Flirting? I—I assure you, Minsc, there is no such intention on my part!" His voice held its usual firmness, the one he used to rally his people and maintain order among the Tieflings. Yet now, it seemed to falter, fraying at the edges as he caught sight of Minsc's teasing.

"I—I was simply… recognizing Jaheira’s capabilities as… as a skilled warrior and an impressive leader," he continued, voice lowering as he stumbled over his own words. "Nothing more than... professional respect. Stating the obvious, really." But the faintest smile crept onto his lips, betraying him as he thought of Jaheira’s unflinching bravery and sharp mind.

Minsc gave him a nudge, and Zevlor's blush deepened, spreading to his ears. He coughed, trying to muster some semblance of his usual commander's composure. But, in truth, he felt like a young recruit again, fumbling and uncertain. He glanced down, then back up at Minsc, his eyes showing a hint of vulnerability beneath his usual hardened resolve.

"Minsc… I don't know what I'm doing," he admitted softly, his voice wavering as he leaned in, almost like he was confiding a secret. "Can… can you help me with this?"

[dark-and-kawaii]

“He fought valiantly at her side, her dragons above them safeguarding their city. Never once did he stray from her side nor she from his.”

I can’t express enough how much I love this ♡ It turned out beautifully and I couldn’t be happier xoxo Thank you again for such lovely work!!!

The commision for @dark-and-kawaii! Thank you very much, it was challenging in some way. I didn't have to add a dragon, but c'mon, it's a damn dragon

Please, support me on:

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Remember that every reblog or repost might help an artist to be seen, and likes always inspire us to continue improving!

[fryderyk]

Gawain & Zevlor ♡

[pavus]

i was tagged by @crownrots, @katsigian, and @rosenfey to make my ships in this adorable picrew! thank you for thinking of me! ♡

blackwall x ecgwynn cousland | sage hawke x anders. solas x naiya lavellan | rook x varric tethras.

tagging: @ebongrove, @thehightiefling, @zahra-hydris, @zevlor, @thedeadthree, @margridarnauds, @rolangf, @elminsters, @draconicocelot. @aroserinosman, and whoever else would like to participate! this is your excuse to do it.

[parkkiablah]

Peaceful for once (Zevlor x Tav)

(I couldn't get this scenario out of my mind so I had to write about it ><

It's @ada-melodies fault, who made an amazing fanart of Zevlor sleeping which is stuck on my mind now q.q)

When you came back to your room at the Elfsong tavern, it was already past midnight. Your quest took up most of the day and half of the night as well but you came back without major injuries, which was already a success.

The others who didn't join on your quest were already sleeping and you smiled at how quiet it was in the room. It's a rare situation that no one is arguing and you enjoyed how calm it made you feel.

Astarion, Gale and Shadowheart, who had joined you for the quest were also quiet, which is especially rare as Astarion barely keeps his mouth shut, but it seems all of them were just too exhausted. They whispered a Goodnight to each other as they didn't want to wake up the others sleeping. You whispered a Goodnight back to them and watched as they walked over to their beds.

As glad as you were for the day finally being over, you still had a lot to prepare for the upcoming fight against the Absolute and you usually felt like time was not on your side.

But right now, you didn't feel stressed for once.

You walked over to your bed, passing by a few others of your companions sleeping as your sight fell on Zevlor.

Still in disbelieve you were able to save him, you stood there staring for a moment.

He obviously didn't plan on sleeping already as his book was still open but laying on his chest. One of his hands was resting on the book, the other one resting under the pillow behind his head. His hair was undone and looked messier than you ever saw it, but honestly you had never seen him without his typical hairstyle, that had half of his hair tied back.

His face had never looked so relaxed as it usually carried a sad and worried expression.

You stood there for a few moments just staring at him. Even though you are aware that he didn't plan on falling asleep, it made you happy to see him so peaceful for once.

You took a few steps closer to him, carefully taking the book from underneath his hand so that it wouldn't fall and startle him in his sleep. Quietly putting it down besides him and cautiously moving his hair out of his face.

The calm feeling you got made you feel braver than usual as you placed a kiss on his forhead, quickly moving away not to disturb his sleep.

You moved over to your own bed and felt a sigh escape you.

If only every night would be so peaceful with all the different people who joined your camp.

What you weren't aware of was the fact that Zevlor did wake up when he felt your lips on his forhead but he was still to sleepy to process it.

He kept his eyes closed until he heard your footsteps leaving his side. Honestly he thought he was still dreaming but he wasn't going to question it, just taking in the warmth in his heart he was feeling in this moment when drifting back to sleep.

part 2!

(I didn't write something in forever but the lack of zevlor content brought me back! And as english isn't my first language and I'm not used to writing in english, I hope there aren't too many mistakes ><

Anyways! Hope you like it ♡ )