#i like to think zev has his thoughtful moments

[gnomishcunning]

You asked someone to bite the bullet and ask abt Zevlor w a bratty partner and i am here, ate the bullet fucking whole dude. Thoughts and hcs for zev with a bratty reader? 🎤🎤🎤

shoutout to like, the eight of you who showed up in my inbox to ask. please consider this response the consolidated answer.

nsfw below the cut! MDNI

CW FOR: my headcanons bout zevlor's sex life, kink discussion, bdsm, d/s dynamics, sadomasochism, manhandling, breathplay implications, subdrop & domdrop discussion

so i mentioned this in my previous post, but for anybody who didn't witness it - i don't think bdsm is a lifestyle thing for Zevlor. he's been taking care of people his entire life, and while he adores taking care of his partner, he needs to be able to express vulnerability and relax, too.

subsequently, bdsm shenanigans are a special-occasions sex thing, maybe once or twice a month. one of you is going need to broach the subject about a session and from there, requests and preferences for the evening will be laid out, with a safe word agreed upon like, a week beforehand. for the record: he can and will be testing if you remember it

now, onto the good bits

a bratty sub and zevlor's general disposition as a dominant is effectively an unstoppable force meets immovable object hostage scenario, in the hottest and most erotic way possible

let me make this clear: he's never not dotting on you. he's kind and patient. he'll help you through your struggles and work with you to live up to expectations.

but the sweetness you've come to expect from the paladin you've fallen in love with has been put on the backburner. a better word now is mercy, because he will not let you get away with shit.

He's your Commander. it's his job to take responsibility for you and your actions, and he's going to insure you understand the full ramifications of your misbehavior

he tends to meet misbehavior with a funishment to fit the crime.

are you mouthing off? he's going to take away your ability to speak, whether that's through his fingers, his cock, or a gag. are you

ignoring him? he'll put you in a position where it's physically impossible to ignore him, whether it's bondage and shibari, or a blindfold to insure the only things you can focus on are his voice and touch.

denial is a regular tool in his arsenal. you need to behave nicely, or at the very least, submit to the funishments if you want to cum. zevlor's spent decades in tightly-wound control of himself. combine that self-restraint with the way he adores knowing how to please his partner, and he is very capable of bringing you to the very edge of oblivion, only to let it fade off and leave you frustrated.

overstimulation is another tool he utilizes, but in a very specific manner. he isn't the type to immediately increase the speed or strength of his ministrations after you'd cum, it's just...

he's relentless. he lets you cum, brings you down with a few sweet kisses, pets your thighs for a moment, and then... starts up again. he'll ring as many orgasms out of your body as he can manage, and he's not above using magic in the bedroom to make it happen. specifically: lesser restoration (and lay on hands) is among the paladin spell group (at least in 5e). have fun with that.

assuming his partner is a masochist 'corporal punishment', as he affectionately calls it, is on-board for either accidentally disobeying his orders, or playfully, purposefully disobeying. he's kind of the exact opposite of a sadist, but he enjoys the noises you make if you like it, so he's willing to compromise

he usually prefers to put you over his lap for the sake of spanking. he'd introduce a riding crop, after a very long and careful conversation about using said implement.

he'll always have you count. hells help you if you lose it

punishments, like. proper punishments, the type that make you consider the ramifications of your behavior, are only implemented after a very long and careful discussion where you communicate your desire to experience said ramifications.

unfortunately for you, he's creative, and punishments fit the crime. he's undoubtedly had some drill sargent experience, that'll rear it's head here

if you mouth off? be prepared to write lines, a dozen or fifty or a hundred

'I won't whisper filthy things to my Commander in public. I won't whisper filthy things to my Commander in public. I won't whisper filthy things to my Commander in public-'

lazying around when you promised him you'd be busy will be met with playful sparring sessions to "Get your reflexes back on track, love."

usually ending with you pinned to the ground by a hand at your throat (in a good way, you'd usually get fucked there)

if you're just being an obstinate fuck in general?

there's a wooden stool in one corner of your apartment. he can and will put you in time out, forcing you to just... sit there, and think about your thoughts, while he reads on the couch across the room, maybe enjoying a glass of while. look at you! you could've been snuggling with your hot tiefling bf, but no. you acted foolish and now you're in time out. think about what you've done.

regardless of the nature of the session, Zevlor has some staples: his mouth will inevitably find its way onto your body, whether he's teasing you with gentle kisses or bringing you over the edge with his mouth.

he still likes leaving marks behind since you can't tell me he isn't the lightest bit possessive, and it's his primary reason for never bothering with a collar. what could a little band of leather say that the ring of bruises around your neck already doesn't?

ultimately, zevlor's not really a brat-tamer. he's a brat handler. he feels no need to tame you, not when he knows you melt so easily with his attention and his touch.

now, in terms of aftercare...

zevlor's the type of dom to check in constantly, before, during and after - making sure you remember safeword, if what he's doing is okay, if you need a drink of water. this type of behavior occurs more constantly with a bratty partner, since the dynamic can sometimes obscure actual feelings and brats have a tendency to be a threat to their own health.

zevlor can also go from hot commanding officer to loving, doted partner in an instant. they're two different sides of the same coin.

his approach to centering his partner after a session is very sweet and tactile. he'd use soft praises, sweet words, and gentle touches to lure you back into your own body from that weird, floaty, no-thoughts zone of subspace.

if he'd realized it helped, he'd 100% start purring (another tiefling headcanon i'm fond of). it's deep and brassy and incredibly comforting

now, the side-effect of being in charge of legions of soldiers (including fresh and nervous recruits) is that zevlor's very efficient and effective at helping and managing the emotions of others, even if he tends to get swept up in tides of his own.

between that and how intimately he'd know the wants and needs of his partner to even safely enact a d/s dynamic (in his mind), zevlor's pretty damn good at picking up when you'd be heading into subdrop - whether it's mid-session, somewhere in the midst of aftercare, or even the day after.

managing subdrop is basically aftercare+, with the addition of insuring his partner he's a constant, constant presence. he loves and adores you, he's not going anywhere, and there's no reason to be ashamed of your desires, when they're mutually agreed-upon and enjoyed by both.

it's worth noting that zevlor's susceptible to domdrop. everyone is, but him especially - he feels his emotions deeply, especially in regards to taking care of others. he'll safeword if he's feeling overwhelmed or too out-of-control in a situation - his communication skills are too good for him not to, but. afterwards?

be prepared to put the bratty persona aside. be there for him. snuggle, reassure if you can manage words, just do everything you can to communicate how much you love him. making him focus on you, just you, is usually an effective way to interrupt the anxiety-depression-shame spiral

just keep an eye on him day-after, since the moods might linger. make sure to show him some extra affection, and maybe surprise him with something nice.

[vanishxcanvas]

Just You

Zevlor x F!Tav!Reader

Oneshot / Imagine

Content Warning: Fluff, Angst? Mentions of reader being called Tav.

Summary: The moment you met Zevlor, you instantly had feelings for him. Little did you know, he felt the same way, but he was terrified of rejection due to the age gap. A part of him also wondered if you’d go looking for someone younger eventually.

You met Zevlor when you got to Emerald Grove, before you went to talk to Kagha. When you first saw him, you were immediately hooked. Although you kept your composure, you were a mess inside.

See, you’ve always been into people that were..older than you. Zevlor was no different. He also had a thing for you, but didn’t say anything for the same reason you didn’t tell him how you felt.

Hell, you even thought about the man before you went to sleep. There was one person you confided in about how you felt, and that person was Astarion.

Unfortunately, he let it slip during the tiefling party that you liked Zevlor like that.

"Oh, did I mention Tav has the hots for Zevlor?" Astarion says, laughing.

You glare at him, and he smirks, turning his head away. Zevlor looked at you, then you looked away, feeling embarrassed that you were outed like that.

When nobody noticed, you decided to slip away for a while, and walked to a place where nobody was it. Sitting down, you sigh and look up at the sky.

The sky looks pretty tonight. You think to yourself.

You're sitting up, and have your hands resting on the ground. Just thinking. Pondering. Later, you hear the party die down and you assume you're safe.

But no, you heard footsteps a few minutes later. The sound grew closer, and closer...until you heard Zevlor's voice.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Turning your head, you see his face.

"I'm fine." You reply.

He sits next to you, and looks at you. “I’m not sure if I believe that.”

“Hmph.” You mumble.

“Is it because of what Astarion said?” He asks.

“….Yeah. I’m sorry if I made things awkward-“ You say before he interrupts.

“Stop that, you didn’t. I’m just..a bit surprised you feel that way, I didn’t think you’d like me like that. I feel the same way of course, but didn’t say anything because I was terrified of what you’d say.” He admits.

“Why would you be terrified?” You ask.

“The age gap..” He mumbles.

“Zev..I don’t care about an age gap. Fuck what people think, it’s not their life.” You say.

“You wouldn’t…look for someone…younger?” He asks.

“No.” You reply.

“Who do you want then?” He asks.

“Just you.” You say.

His eyes water, and you hug him. He squeezes you tightly, and you lean into his touch. Zevlor stays with you for a bit longer, the two of you in each other’s arms. Before he leaves, he hugs you, then kisses you.

“Promise me you’ll come visit.” He says.

“Of course I will.” You say, smiling.

“Good. I’m going to leave now, but please get some rest. You deserve it.” He says.

“I will.” You reply.

Once he leaves, you get up and head to bed. Astarion of course teased you when you walked back, and you rolled your eyes.

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Yours

A few vignettes of Beatrice telling Zevlor she's his. Second vignette is NSFW; other two are SFW. Set in Act 3 and post-game.

“Zevlor’s here.” Karlach whispered in Beatrice’s pointed ear. “One of the sisters said he arrived the other day, in the middle of the night. He must’ve—”

She frowned. “Left as soon as the others were safe. And didn’t bother to find me as I asked.”

Karlach nodded. “Yeah, so…okay. Yup, there she goes.” She shook her head, smiling ruefully as she watched the half-drow flag down someone to ask where the older tiefling paladin was.

***

“The shaking is better than yesterday, but I still cannot hold my sword.” Zevlor said to himself, staring at his shaking hands. I expected after the excitement, for lack of a better word, of the battle it would stop. But no. And my pulchra…

The door to his room opened with such force that he thought it would be removed from its hinges.

“Bea?” My love. My darling. Please forgive me.

As quickly as the door was opened, she closed it, hurried to his bed, sat, and pulled him in a tight hug. “Moonmaiden be praised. Why didn’t you look for me? I was waiting for you!” She cried, her shoulders shaking nearly as bad as my hands. “Why?”

Because I’m a coward.

“I-I have no good explanation, I’m afraid. My people…they were with you?” He waited for her to nod and then continued. “I couldn’t face them, and I’m sure they didn’t want to see me either, darling.”

She only held him tighter. “You could’ve come to my camp. You’re always welcome there. But now that we’re…well,” she let him go and smiled. “Not quite in Baldur’s Gate. Rivington is not the Gate.” Duly noted. “Now that we’re here you are welcome in not just my camp but home.” She removed one of her gauntlets and cupped his red cheek. “My home. Let me take you to my house. You can rest there. I can have one of the other clerics from my temple oversee your recovery. Or better yet, Wildheart Manor. Mum will—”

He shook his head. “No, my love. I’m happier here, and I’ve been watching the children while their parents try to find work.” These refugees know nothing of what I did. I cannot make amends or seek forgiveness from my own people, but I can still do some good. You taught me that. Even the smallest act of kindness is worth it.

Not appearing to be convinced at all, my goodness. Pout all you want, dear. I’m not changing my mind. “But—”

He silenced her with a sweet but brief kiss. “No buts. I will remain here, and when all this is over, I promise I will come home with you.”

“Then you,” she suddenly tensed, her brown eyes full of emotion. “You still love me? Stil want this? With me?”

Leaning into her touch, he smiled. “I am yours, pulchra, for as long as you will it.”

With tears streaming down her freckled cheeks, she returned his smile. “So…forever then?”

My sweet darling, don’t cry. I’m yours. I’ve been yours since the moment I saw you at the gate. “If that is your wish, then so it shall be.”

“Really?” Beatrice sobbed, throwing off her other gauntlet. “I didn’t…after you never showed up…I thought…you wanted nothing to do with me…”

“Never. Never.” That she could think such a thing. You have no more excuses, Zevlor of Elturel. Court her properly. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.” He brushed her tears from her perfect, beautiful face. “I love you, Bea.” She threw her arms around his neck with a cry.

I am yours. I will always be yours.

***

As Zevlor admired his lover wearing her newest dress (“Saving Master Figaro from a Bhaalist serial killer has its perks” she told me---I’ll take her word for it), he was outwardly chivalric and near chaste with his praise. I’m still staying in the temple, and it would be inappropriate for me to act otherwise.

On the inside, however, the tiefling’s blood felt like liquid fire.

A plunging neckline to show off those plump breasts of hers.

A silhouette that hugs her curves.

All of them.

What really stands out are her hips---I simply must—

“Zev? Hello?”

He blinked and realized she was giggling, waving her hand in front of his face.

Focusing on her face and not her hips or breasts or how delicious her backside looks, he smiled warmly, holding out a hand for her. “Sorry dear. I was lost in your beauty.” There you go, old man. You can still charm her. Zevlor’s lips grazed the back of her hand, and to his delight, she chuckled.

“Love, I’m not some innocent. I know this dress makes my boobs look amazing.” Not just them, darling. “You truly do like it?”

“Believe me when I say that I love it.” He managed to get out, his member throbbing in his trousers.

She stepped out of his hold and glanced over her shoulder at him, the ghost of a smile tugging the corners of her pretty, so very pretty mouth. “Then show me I’m yours, Zev.”

Well.

I see.

If that is the way of it, Lady Beatrice…

The former Hellrider growled and reached her within moments, clawed hands gripping her hips. “You bloody minx. Do you want me to take you right now? Bend you over that desk?”

“Do whatever you want, love.” She smirked, allowing herself to be positioned bend over the desk he was given. “But the dress stays on.”

He hiked up the white dress and then undid his trousers. “Fuck, you are lovely. So pretty. I have longed for this…for you…” Squeezing her delicious behind, he growled. “One day soon you must let fuck your ass properly…let me come all over your backside…wouldn’t that be nice, pulchra?”

She moaned wantonly, spreading herself further for him. “Yes, love…yes…whatever you want…whenever you want…I’m yours…” As he entered her, she gasped his name. Perfect. My perfect lady. Light of my life. “Gods, Zev…have me…”

With one hand on her hip and the other reaching around to find her clit, his hips snapped back and forth. She told me she loves the ridges on my cock. That they make her feel things she’s never felt before.

Mine.

“Zev!” His lover cried, her inner walls clenching around him. “I-I…I think…”

He placed kisses on her bare back and nuzzled her freckled skin. “Come for me, Bea darling…be a good girl and come for me…” And there she goes! Comes! Fuck! FUCK! “Good girl…Love you…so much, sweetheart…” She felt almost limp in his arms as his hips began to stutter. My turn…I’ll always fill you, pulchra…

Zevlor was fairly sure he blacked out for a few moments.

Gods, if she does this to me now, how will it be when I rut?

Oh.

I’ll need to explain that to her.

But for the present…

He heard her chuckle. “Well shit, Zev---had no idea you were that pent up.”

Barking a laugh, he slipped out of her and gave her behind a pinch. “That, dearest, was all you. You did that to me.”

Beatrice muttered a cleaning spell and then proceeded to pull her smalls up, giggling. “Am I supposed to be sorry about that, or…?”

Shaking his head, Zevlor smirked and pinched her behind again. “Never.”

Never be sorry about setting me aflame, darling. I’m certainly not.

***

Zevlor was pleasantly surprised that his beloved insisted on having tiefling, specifically Elturian tiefling, traditions be part of their wedding. Though I honestly shouldn’t have been. She is thoughtful in that way.

He was surprised when she asked him to attend one of her last fittings before the wedding. I asked why, and she only gave me that sweet little grin of hers. “You’ll see.”

Sitting in Beatrice’s suite at Wildheart Manor next to the countess (and Horace sitting dutifully between us---he’s a lovely little dog), his jaw nearly hit the floor when he saw her.

The half-drow was all smiles as she stood in front of her mother and fiancée and twirled. “Isn’t so beautiful? Hanna, you are brilliant!” she glanced at the tiefling seamstress and bowed her head. He vaguely heard the countess complimenting Hanna, but his gaze was fixed on his future bride.

She was wearing what Zevlor recognized as traditional wedding attire for a tiefling lady but instead of the usual red it was cream-colored with intricate beading and sparkle.

She truly looks like an angel. My angel. My pulchra.

“Zev?” she asked hesitantly. “Do you like it?

Suddenly he felt three sets of eyes on him and cleared his throat. “Darling, I love it, but more importantly, do you? After all, I’m not the one wearing it.”

Beatrice heaved a sigh of relief, smiling, hands on her ample chest. “Thank goodness, because I was going to be sad if you hated it. I love it! I feel so…” Hands now on the skirt, she twirled again. “Pretty! I feel very pretty.”

“Because you are, sweetie.” The countess quipped, motioning for Hanna to follow her out of her daughter’s suite. “I need to discuss a few things with Hanna for my outfit, but you two chat for a bit.” The countess left followed by Hanna, leaving the couple alone.

Zevlor stood and held his hands out for her, which she took with the loveliest smile I’ve ever seen. She smiles so much more now. She’s so much happier, more confident in herself. We spend most of our days together, though she also goes to The Children’s House of Healing with Horace to brighten their spirits. She’ll bring treats for the families, siblings, and staff. It brings her more joy than being a cleric ever did.

Then there’s her—

“You alright? You seem far away, love.” His fiancée whispered, squeezing one of his hands.

Damn.

He gave her a reassuring smile. “Only thinking of you, darling. You truly look stunning. The most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

Her plushness. No longer needing to train every day to wield a greatsword, she softened further. A fact that I greatly enjoy.

Her rapidly reddening face was in her hands in moments. “Oh please, no! That’s not true.”

“Pulchra—” Zevlor gently took her hands from her face and held them.

“I just want to be your bride. That’s’ all. Nothing more than that.” Beatrice then tenderly rested her forehead against his. “Your bride, Zev.”

Yes. My bride. My beautiful bride. Dressed like a tiefling queen. By the gods, am I lucky. He raised a teasing eyebrow. “A fact that you’re very proud of, my dear.”

To his amusement, she stared at him in shock. “Of course I am! Who wouldn’t want to be your spouse?” Plenty. “I’m very proud of that,” she said with a smile. “But this isn’t the only thing I have planned for you, Zev.” She stepped out of his hold and twirled. “Just you wait!”

“I suppose I shall, darling.”

I can’t wait, pulchra.

To be your husband.

For you to be my wife.

And perhaps, if the gods are kind, a child or two.

[vera-king-hrfl]

Second part of the thing I did. This one is more porny. Soft dom Zev, Rolan on his knees... 🏳️‍🌈

As you weave your way through the darkness, heading toward the river, you reflect on everything that has happened since the fall of Elturel. That city had been restored, but your people had been blamed, and you were no longer welcome. It made little difference to you. You’d rarely felt welcome anywhere until Cal and Lia decided that you would be their brother, and share in their love. But Zevlor, also, had always been there. He had broken his Paladin oath to keep you all safe, to protect you. Abandoning his city, his post, his duty and his gods, choosing to lead a pack of feeble refugees into the wilderness to find a new home for you all. You owed him everything, more than any of you could ever repay. But he asks for nothing in return. His life has been nothing but pain since then. You want to give him what he’d given you. A feeling of belonging. Of comfort. Your body and your feeble skills are a meagre offering, but you will give gladly, if he will only accept. The kiss, earlier, burns in your mind. The heat and power of him, the staggering effect he has on you. You have never wanted another person this badly, and the longing to give him pleasure spurs you onward despite your nervousness. You will not measure up. You can’t. But by all the gods above and below, you will try.

He is there. You see him in the distance by the soft gleam of moonlight on his horns, the pale streak of the white shirt he wears. He is out of armor for the first time in weeks, standing at the water’s edge, his back to you. His head is bowed, hands curled at his sides, shoulders seeming tense. You call his name when you draw closer, but he’s already turning, sensing your approach. Sneaking up on Zevlor would be no easier then besting him in combat. The nobles of Elturel has driven out their greatest treasure, their most devoted servant, to slog along a dirty dangerous road, caring for people who did not deserve his loyalty. People like you. You feel shame again at how you had treated the dignified older man, but you’re here to make that better, if you can.

He smooths his shirt when you draw near, touching his hair, his horns, looking quite nervous. Your own heart is beating like a trip hammer, and you think you know how he feels. “You came,” is all he says before turning again to study the reflection of the moon on the dark water.

You smile as you reach him, taking his hand and standing next to him, remaining silent, enjoying his closeness. The moment stretches, and you feel more comfortable the longer he presses your hand. “I couldn’t stay away,” you whisper finally. “Do you want to talk about this? I don’t really need to, but if you’re apprehensive…”

He glances at you and sighs. “I must admit… yes, I am. This… these feelings. I never imagined that I would allow anyone to affect me like this again. I thought all that behind me. My purpose…”

“Yes, I think I see. Zevlor, I want this. I want to spend the night with you. But I won’t push you if you’re not ready. I thought it might make you feel… but I have to tell you, I have little experience. Some, but rather outdated. There have been other more pressing concerns than… that.”

He looks at you again and this time he holds your eyes. “For me as well. Perhaps at one time…” He chuckles softly, “But I know how to please a man. I can still make this good for you. I may be a bit rusty, but if you will only tell me what you enjoy, I will do anything you want. But let me lead. Please. I am more comfortable...”

You grin at him, lowering your head. “You like to be in charge. I have no problem with that. And I have a feeling I will enjoy anything you do to me. Put me on my knees. Let me call you Commander. I know I act like I have everything handled, but usually I’m just fumbling for purchase, for my place in the world. For tonight, you can control my body.”

He looks rather startled for a moment. Understandable, given your previous aggression, but then he smiles, “Then I will do my best to liberate you. Come, there is a place nearby.” He turns then and leads you away from the shimmering river into a deeper darkness beneath a copse of trees. There seems to be the unspoken agreement between you that this remain secret, but you don’t mind that. He has placed a bedroll there, and he stops, turning to catch you by the back of the neck and drawing you to him. His mouth covers yours and now he is not hesitant, but confident, the kiss almost fierce, so great is his need. You moan, melting in his strong grasp, releasing your tension and putting yourself completely in his hands. His tongue plunges between your lips, his other arm curling around you and pulling you against him hard. You feel your cock start to stiffen immediately. The shy, reserved man is gone. This is the Hellrider, the Zevlor you once knew and secretly fantasized about, the one you’d heard the older folks mention in hushed tones as a miracle worker in the bedroom as well as on the battlefield. His kiss is hot, hungry, and he pulls the tie from your hair and grips a handful, pulling your head back so he can kiss and lick your neck. Every shred of hard-won poise deserts you then, and you whimper, clutching at him, pushing your pelvis forward, wanting to feel every inch of his solid, muscular body. You feel his sharp teeth nick your skin. “May I?” You nod, begging for his bite, and he sinks the fangs deep, drawing blood and a sharp cry from you. He holds you while you twitch, licking at the wound, then lifts his head and reclaims your mouth, coiling his long tongue around yours. He is not much bigger than you, but harder, stronger, with more infernal blood, and his tongue is deeply forked while yours is only lightly indented. You feel the power of that heritage when he pulls your head back again and grins. “Take off your clothes.”

He releases you and you step back, hastening to shrug out of your robe and underthings, and you shiver with delight when he looks you up and down with seeming approval. He pulls his own shirt off and your breath catches. It is dark, but your night vision is good, and you let your eyes trace every ripple of muscle, every ridge, every deep slashing scar on his beautiful torso. The Commander is modest around others, and you’d never seen him shirtless before. You start to approach, wanting to touch him, but he holds up his hand and you halt, trembling.

“On your knees.” You hit the ground almost before you can think, the weight of his command overwhelming, desiring nothing more than to obey, to please him. “Do you want to taste me?”

“Yes, Commander. Yes, please. I’ve dreamed of this.” His authority sets you on fire and you reach around behind him to release the clasp of his pants and drag them down his heavy thighs. His scent hits your nose when his hard shaft springs free, clean and fresh, but with a hint of something more. Dark, spice, animal. You groan when he tangles his fingers in your hair and allows you to lavish the length and crown of him with your tongue, kissing, licking, needing his taste. You had never particularly enjoyed this in the past, hadn’t been very good at it, but tonight your own cock twitches in sympathy when he eases into your mouth. You grip his hips, opening, letting him sink deeper until he’s lodged in your throat. He’s quite large, but you have a wide mouth and you are able to take him with only a little strain. Despite his show of dominance, he is still being careful, not pushing you too hard, and his deep groan is beautiful to your ears. The idea that you are drawing such a sound from him winds the tension in your groin near to the breaking point.

He seems to notice your crisis and growls, “you can touch yourself while you suck me if you want.” But you don’t release his hips, instead simply letting him pull your head back and then hold you still, pumping into your throat again and again, slowly, dragging the ridges of his length against your tongue, making your eyes water. You don’t need to touch yourself. You are already close enough, and when he loses himself a little and shoves deeper with a growl, you gasp through your nose and release onto the ground, shuddering and moaning. He continues for a few more seconds before pulling you off of him and looking down at you, stroking your hair. “Did… Rolan, did you come just from that?”

You close your eyes, licking your lips to savor his taste. “Yes I did. You… it’s so good. Wanted this so badly.” It is liberating, to allow him control, to know that he is going to use you, without you having to think, having to perform.

He chuckles. “Good boy.” You smile at the praise, feeling warm and content. “My, you are enjoying this. Who would have thought… do you want to continue?”

“Fuck yes. I want to make you feel good. Want to make you come. Use me, Commander, please.”

He growls again and grabs both of your horns, pulling you back down his cock, and starts to fuck your mouth more vigorously, challenging you to keep your breathing controlled and your teeth away from his skin.

“Oh gods, yes… fuck, Rolan. So good… you’re doing so well… suck a little harder… oh fuck yes yes just like that… close, going to come down your throat. That’s it, you can take it. Just a little more.” His words are magical, his moans and whimpers delectable, his smell and taste and the feel of him yanking on your horns making you hard again, wanting him to spill into your mouth, wanting his pleasure, needing it. You feel his cock swell, twitching, and then he cries out, forcing your face to his belly and filling your throat with hot spurts of his seed. You choke a little but control yourself, managing to swallow every drop. He gasps and snatches his hands away, but you rise slowly, drawing his climax out until he’s shaking and whimpering, fisting his hands at his sides. You finally release him with a sharp pop and grin, looking up. He pants, eyes blazing, and then groans and stumbles to the bedroll, dropping down on it and lying on his back. You follow, stretching out beside him and caressing his chest.

Eventually he turns a bit and kisses you, pressing his forehead to yours with his eyes closed. “That was incredible,” he whispers, “I haven’t felt anything like that in more than a decade. I still have no idea why you’re here, but I am glad I did not lose my nerve. It was a near thing, you know. I was going to send you away and come over here, get myself off, and go to sleep. But you were so sweet, holding my hand. So pretty…”

You snort, “that doesn’t sound like much fun. I’m happy that my own courage didn’t fail me. And I’m glad you enjoyed it. I wanted to be able to do this for you. To make you feel good. At first, I really just wanted you to fuck me, but this was so good that I am certainly not disappointed. We can do that another night if we get the chance.”

His eyes open then, and he raises his brows, “Oh, sweet boy. You think I’m finished?” He laughs and sits up, reaching for a bottle of water and taking a long drink before handing it to you. He bites his lip, grinning and looking you over as you sip. “I may be getting up in years, but I think I can outlast a cranky little wizard. I would still like your pretty ass, if you think you can take it.” His smile grows darker. “I’m not sure you can.”

You hear the challenge in his voice and growl. “Yeah, yeah, I know. My jaw is already aching a bit and I probably won’t be able to walk properly afterward, but that’s what I’m here for. I’ve been so fucking stressed… I think if you pound me until I can’t see straight it might improve my mood. At least for a little while.” You think it also might serve as a personal penance for how you behaved toward him earlier, but you don’t mention that.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “you make a convincing case. We’ll have to get you ready first. I’ve been told I can be a little… intense… when I’m doing that. And I know I’m a bit bigger than average, but if we start slowly, I will be more than happy to fuck the attitude out of you.”

[lemonina00]

Fanfic time: Zevlor X Allandra (OC/Tav) - I'm not gonna say goodbye

AN: Hello and welcome to this little fanfic snippet I teased in my Zevlor Chibi post. I have finally found the courage to post it. I am from Germany, so English is not my native language. I hope you all don’t mind too much. I’ve tried to make as little typos and errors as possible, but hey,…I have no beta, I die like Kanon. Actually, I have written fanfiction since I can remember, but I normally don’t publish my writing. Yet, with the BG3 community, I feel like being brave and sharing my stuff for a change.

This is really only a short snippet. Mostly a dialogue, I imagined my Tav Allandra and Zevlor having after freeing him in the Mindflayer colony. I was so disappointed and sad when he wouldn’t come with me, I had to let it out some way.

I have more little snippets for Zevlor and Allandra saved on my phone. If people are interested, I could post them. As well as snippets and scenes for many other BG cuties. In my headcanon, Allandra confessed to Zev at the camp celebration, that she spared Minthara. This is another snippet I wrote. Also, I imagined her and some of the Tieflings who did not condemn Zev to hold a little ceremony at Last Light Inn. Please let me know what you think! :) Now without further ado… here we go!

XOXO Cary  

I'm not gonna say goodbye

“Is that-?” Zevlor asked, his brows raised in question as he looked past Allandra at the female Drow, caught in conversation with Astarion.

“Minthara, yes!” Allandra confirmed his suspicion.

“After our raid of the camp, she was brought to Moonrise Towers, where Ketheric Thorm himself sentenced her to death for her alleged failure!" she explained the Drow’s presence.

“And you saved her anew?” Something akin to surprise crossed Zevlor’s features, but it lasted only a second, before his face turned solemn once more.

“I had to! It was I who brought about her failure in the first place!” The human woman raised her hands in a helpless gesture.

“You did not owe her anything!” Zevlor insisted. And he was right, of course, but Allandra still had her reasons as for why she’d helped Minthara a second time.

“I know, but after I freed her of the Absolute! Of their mind control, I saw that it was worth it! I know that she has committed heinous acts and that her people are despised by most...and I do not plan on fixing her or anything! I am not that naïve! All I know is that she is fighting for the right thing now! She's on our side!”

Her voice shook with emotion as she spoke. That little spark of hope she’d felt, when Minthara had accompanied her back to her camp, however small it might be, flickering within her heart. For a short moment, a heavy silence fell over the Tiefling commander and the human woman. Allandra’s gaze travelled back and forth between Zevlor’s burning infernal eyes and his bloodied armour.

“She is a paladin?!” the man in question suddenly asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Yes! And one hell of a fighter!” Allandra didn’t even try and conceal the admiration she felt for the former Drow commander. There was no denying, that Minthara was a force to be reckoned with.

“Then I hope that she will make use of the second chance you have granted her!” Zevlor let out a heavy sigh, redirecting his gaze to Allandra’s face. “I hope she will keep you safe!”

The moment, his words set in with her, Allandra’s smile faltered. Unease welled up within her gut.

“Wait!....wait...Zevlor...are you not coming with us?” she inquired, looking at him closely.

Zevlor shook his head.

“I can't!” he breathed out, his eyes focusing on the ground in front of his feet, for he could no longer hold Allandra’s searching gaze.

“What?!” her voice rose and her eyes widened. “Then....okay....of course you do not have to!” A nervous laugh left her lips “This is not your fight after all!-“

“It is!” he cut her off, much more harshly than he’d intended to. A little softer, he tried anew. “It is, but I already lost it!”

“Nonsense!” Allandra shook her head, sending her messy brown hair flying. “You're alive!”

“Thanks to you!”

Ignoring his last words, the human woman tried reasoning with him. Maybe he would see reason? He had to! “If you cannot come with us, then...at least head back to our camp! It's just outside the towers. On the outskirts of Reithwin!”

“I can't!”

“Just....you won't miss it! It's not much, but you can rest there! And Gale will be there to heal you!”

Her words were all but tumbling from her lips, her heart growing heavy within her chest. Why was Zevlor being so stubborn?

“Allandra, I can't! I am sorry to... disappoint you any further! You must think me so ungrateful! Hells, I am truly sorry, but this is how it must be!”

“But....where will you go? What will you do now?” Allandra demanded to know, for she simply had to know. She’d spent way too many hours worrying about him. Wondering, grieving. Not again!

“I.... honestly, I don't know!” Zevlor confessed, dropping his arms down to his sides. “But...one thing I can promise you ...I will not do anything stupid...if that is what you're worried about!”

“You.... you're not making much sense, Zevlor! Yes, I am worried! Maybe we should...let me take you back to camp! Gale will give you a quick check up, just to be safe and if you still want to leave afterwards...well then I cannot hold you back, can I?”

Allandra tried but failed to convince him. The more he refused, the more inclined she felt to change his mind. He clearly was not being himself right now. And though she would not blame him, with what he’d been through, his reluctance to accept her help was slowly but surely wearing her down.

“Do not waste your resources on me! Go! I bet your companions are already waiting for you! I have no right to steal any more of your time!”

“You're not! And I'm not letting you leave when you're like this!”

If he could be stubborn und unreasonable, the so could she!

“Like what?” he asked. As if he had no idea of how much she cared.

“Like....like... you're so full of self-loathing!” There! She’d said it. Because what was the point in beating around the bush?

“Warranted!” Zevlor just shrugged.

“What happened to you was not your fault!”

“Oh yes it was! I wish it wasn't!” His eyes flew up to her face and he looked right at her, right into her soul with his blazing infernal eyes. And it caused Allandra’s heart to skip a beat.

“I wish,” he carried on, “I could be like you! That I could forgive so easily! That I had a heart full of mercy! But the crime I committed! The betrayal! The lives I destroyed! There is no redemption for that!”

“Not if you fight it! If you refuse it!”

“You really should go now!”

“Just.....just look at Minthara! We both know of the things that she did. She was not herself when under the absolute's spell!” Maybe comparing the two was a stupid idea, but Allandra was grasping at straws now.

“I do! And I dearly hope that she will honour your mercy!” Zevlor’s gaze remained as unwavering as his resolve. His face was a blank mask at this point and Allandra felt that close to bursting into helpless tears.

“That's not!...I do not want her...or you...or anybody else to honour me...like I'm some kind of saint! Because I ain't nothing like that!" she whined with her voice becoming embarrassingly thin.

For the second time, they both fell silent. And the silence felt suffocating and deafening. Eventually, Allandra had to accept defeat. Zevlor would not be coming with her! He would not join her in the fights to come! Her heart gave a painful tug inside her chest before it sunk to the bottom of her stomach. Once again, somebody would be leaving her. For the umpteenth time in her life, somebody was going to walk out on her. And there was apparently nothing that she could do, to prevent it from happening.

“So... that's it then? You're just gonna...vanish?” she asked, her big blue eyes searching his tired face for any signs that he might yet change his mind. “I really don't wanna weigh you down any further, but... it's not fair, you know?! I mourned for you! Back in the Shadow-Cursed Lands! We...we held a fucking service in your memory! And with 'we', I mean the people you think no longer care about you! Bex, Dannis, Alfira, the ...the kids! But... alright, if that is what you want then....so be it!”

Oh, she really was being unfair and she knew it, but once she’d let him in on her hurt feelings, she felt somewhat lighter.

“Forgive me!” Finally, Zevlor’s blank mask slipped.

“I do not need to! It is you who needs to do that!” Maybe this kind reminder would help him see reason. But it did not!

“Take care Allandra! May the gods be with you!” Zevlor spoke, crushing her remaining hopes.

“I'm not gonna say goodbye!” she shook her head, “Instead....I guess I wish you well and...here...at least, take this!”

Reaching into one of her coat pockets, she pulled out a small bottle, filled with a healing potion.

“Allandra, I-“ Zevlor wanted to refuse, but she wouldn’t accept any further contradictions.

“Take it! Please!”

Hesitantly, Zevlor took a step forward, closing the gap between them. Once he was within arm’s reach, Allandra held out the bottle. He wrapped his fingers around it. For a second, Allandra refused to let go. She held on to the bottle and she reached out with her other hand, to grab his wrist. Even through the thick material of her leather gloves, she could feel the heat radiating off of him. A strong reminder of his infernal blood. Her heart was racing once again, as she looked up into his eyes.

“If we live to see another day, we will be heading for Baldur's Gate next! There is a tavern there...the Elfsong! I used to go there often before this whole tadpole madness! I shall hope it still stands! Maybe...one day you wanna find me there?” Oh, she hated how much her voice shook and how needy she sounded in that very moment.

“I will keep it in mind!” Zevlor nodded and though it was no promise, it sparked a tiny flicker of hope within the human woman’s heart.

Reluctantly, she let go of his hand, just as Minthara returned to her side, to inquire what was taking her so long.

“Allandra! What in the hells is taking you so long? Does the Tiefling need a special invitation?”

“He's not coming with us!” she informed her Drow companion with a rueful expression.

“He's not?”

“No, Minthara... please...” Allandra hoped that Minthara would just drop the subject as to not hurt her any further. It was a surprise really that she had not yet started to cry.

“I see! ...Come now! Ketheric Thorm is not going to kill himself!” Minthara stated so matter-of-factly, that under different circumstances, this would’ve caused Allandra to chuckle. But with her emotions so on edge right now, it was not a soft chuckle that left her mouth. Allandra let out an incredulous laugh, before following Minthara towards the next chamber. Looking over her shoulder, she threw Zevlor one last sincere smile.

I'm not gonna say goodbye!

[ruushes]

Would love to hear your Zevran thoughts <3

original and ultimate babygirl 🥺

first impression: so i actually knew he was gay romanceable before starting origins and went in with the intention of gay romancing him pretty much solely bc i thought it was cool you could be gay in a video game. i didn't really know much else about him going into it, so his intro was like, holy shit i'm in love with him 😂😂 and i only liked him more and more as the game went on, I’ll admit I took a lot of his humor and bravado at face value at first and the depth of character that unfolded was unexpected and really cool

impression now: it might seem like i love him a normal and reasonable amount given that i don't draw or post about him that often but that's just bc the more i like something the less and less i talk about it out of embarrassment 😅

favorite moment: so so so hard to choose 😭😭 maybe the dialogue after you kill taliesin if you push him to make the decision of what he'll do next himself:

cautiously testing unfamiliar agency.... the look for validation... 🥺

idea for a story: gestures vaguely at the complete origins novelization and chronicle of whatever weird thing he and ailill have going on that exists perfectly in my mind and materially in unconnected 500-word scraps of dialogue that don't even amount to anything you could call a wip 🤦‍♂️i think the last thing i worked on was a bit about how on the morning after zev's recruited he has another chance to finish the assassination and kind of commits to the idea of staying instead

unpopular opinion: i think understandably and naturally people tend to focus on positives when making fan material (i do it too like 90% of my sketches are cutesy shipping art lol) but i'd also like to see more of him being flawed? like i feel like a big part of the appeal of him as a character is the 'healing from trauma and starting anew' theme, and healing is so difficult and messy and nonlinear, not something that gets resolved by falling in love over the course of like nine months, you know? but i don't really fault people for not exploring that, it's just something i'd be interested to see more of (':

favorite relationship: zevwarden naturally😌 especially in the context of wardens with a similar desire to die, where they can sort of figure out how to want to live again together

favorite headcanon: i've been poking around in the toolset and looking at the differences between the m and f romances and i think there's a case to be made for a reading where there's an element of internalized homophobia and/or trauma impacting how he looks at relationships with men that goes beyond generally preferring women. his gendered dialog with men tends to be more physical than emotional, there are instances where suggestive gendered dialog alludes to violence with m wardens and not f, he makes some skeptical comments abt the idea of being in a relationship with a man. i don't have evidence at hand and i certainly don't think everyone Should think this way or anything, i just find it interesting to think about preferences and how they can be impacted by experience in the context of being bi, and how it could both complicate and enrich an mwarden relationship

[ocean-in-my-rebel-soul]

Ilya Surana/Anders, a Surana Anders pairing?👀 - "cold hands in warm hands"

I know, right? This is the same Ilya from my Surana/Zev/Ali throuple, though this is an AU. She has been in love with Anders since the Circle. Here's some Suranders noodling! @dadrunkwriting

===

Anders glows red-gold in the firelight where he sits on the ground beside Ilya, teasing Pounce with a leaf on a twig. He's wearing a big, bright smile and laughs when Pounce forgoes the leaf entirely to instead bat at his hand. It looks good on him. Anything does nowadays, for as much as he complains about being out in the wilderness with the Wardens.

"Are you just going to stare at me all night? You've spent years looking at my pretty face." Anders aims his grin at Ilya, his eyes dancing in the flickering light. "Literally."

Ilya rolls her eyes but smiles back. She can't help it with him. Since he came to the Wardens, she finds herself thinking of him in the quiet moments between emergencies. It is different than when she, Jowan, and Anders were younger in the Circle; she loved him even then, fiercely, though Anders was years older than them, but now--

But now she can kiss him, so she does.

"Mmph," he mumbles, smiling against her lips. Pounce meows indignantly when Anders drops the makeshift toy and pulls her into his lap, sending the cat scurrying. Ilya's hands slide over his chest, though she can't feel him through his armor. His own hands, so much warmer than her own, cover them and he sinks his fingers between hers.

She fits against him like she belongs there, and it's a powerful thought. Ilya kisses him again and again just because she can. She could spend the next thirty years kissing him and it wouldn't be enough.

"I love you," she whispers when they pull apart to take a breath.

There's a gentle laugh in his smile. "I love you, too," Anders murmurs, his eyes dipping back to her mouth before he bends his head once more to her.

[a-drama-addict]

Your Dari post got me curious: if you put your DA kiddos in BG3 (or the other way round!) what would their impression of the companions be? Who would they get on with?

HMMMM i'm just gonna pick da'revas for this because oHOHOHOOOOO i have thoughts about this. (the others will get this too but LATER so i can compile all thoughts) (under the cut bc this will be loooong rambling probably.)

Da'Revas

Wyll: I feel like he'd get on super well with Wyll, (local goodest boys meeting.) I feel like he'd want to choke Mizora the moment she shows up lol I feel like he'd definitely enjoy the whole hero persona of the sword coast thing, then when he finds out that Wyll got cast out by his father from Baldurs Gate he'd also want to fistfight Ulder lol

Astarion: Dari would not enjoy the vampire man. At first anyhow, though it's not the first time he made friends with someone who tried to murder him at their first meeting (looking at you ZEV).. but they wouldn't become incredibly close either, more just casual friends that check on each other once a year

Karlach: HIMBO BUDDIES. karlach's a himbo to me, da'revas is a certified himbo. NEED i go on. they'd be besties, he'd kill anyone who look at Karlach wrong

Shadowheart: Well. he has a thing for goths. No but they would get along, he is used to the secretive or more held back nature, he definitely enjoys having her around. Not too fond of the whole shar dogma she spews in the beginning but the second she opens up he goes full protective mode (“I will NEVER let ANYONE hurt you EVER AGAIN. I’ll kill all wolves personally” “Sweet of you but your hug is choking me, Da’revas-“)

Lae'zel: he also has a thing for women who are mean to him. He'd be interested in her culture definitely, and I just know he would love the way she speaks. definitely would be friends with her

Gale: Eh. Probably neutral on him, no strong opinions one way or the other, he'd definitely be more sympathetic towards him near the end and will have a third goddess to fistfight

Halsin: unironically would probably have the biggest crush on the man. Da'revas sees a tall strong elf with a fondness for nature and whittling? floored. goes “hey breastie- i mean bestie. hows your gay going— DAY going. haha”

Jaheira: That would actually be his mom

Minthara: Hmm. I think he wouldn't get along with her, mostly because of her evil alignment, and would kill her in the goblin camp act 1 so no REAL relationship on that front

[shegeekery]

Misfits Chapter 5: Hades' Domain

See Chapter 1: Reunion for a description and the full chapter index.

Chapter 5: Hades’ Domain

Word of Lady Jane’s banishment spread rapidly throughout the compound, from the audience chamber to the kitchens — even down to the battlefield. Zev was fighting alongside some Asgardians they knew when they heard the news. 

“What? What is Hades?” they shouted to the fighter closest to them. 

“Greek underworld. Nasty place, from what I’ve heard,” the fellow replied. 

Zev’s stomach seemed to leap into their throat, mind racing. I need to tell Rune. The scholar would be the last to hear the news, closeted with his books and experiments as he usually was. 

As soon as there was a lull in the fighting nearby, they took off running in the direction of the library. It was permissible for anyone to leave the battlefield from time to time, so long as you didn’t make a habit of it.

They raced into the library and found their way to the room in the back where Rune normally worked. He was there, talking to the red-headed man from last night. Zev looked from one to the other. 

“Loki? That’s you, isn’t it?”

The man hesitated, then nodded. “I take it you heard about my father’s latest demonstration of sound judgment?”

“Yeah. This is insane! Jane didn’t deserve that.”

“I agree,” Loki said.

“Loki asked me to assist him so he can go help her,” Rune explained. “The gateway can get him there, but Odin and Heimdall are the only ones who know, well, knew how to use it.”

“Wow,” Zev said to their friend. “Who knew you had a rebel streak in you?”

Rune gave them a weak, nervous smile.

“Rune’s discoveries may be helpful here,” Loki added. “I can shield myself from Heimdall’s vision and create a distraction, but I need him to calibrate the gateway or I’m likely to find myself lost in the etheric realm or the heart of a star.”

“I’m coming with you.” Zev told him. 

Loki shook his head. “A Lycan in Hades would attract too much attention.”

“You can make me appear human,” Zev pointed out. Loki looked like he was about to argue, but they cut him off. “You may need backup once you get there and…Jane is my friend.”

Zev wanted to question Loki’s motives, but thought better of it. He did have a habit of betraying people and would no doubt love to get his hands on Ovaltine, or whatever the magical doohickey was called. On the other hand, well, his unpredictability went both ways. Zev just wanted to be certain there would be someone there who had only Jane’s welfare in mind.

Loki cocked his head and stared at them for a moment. Zev had the uncomfortable feeling that he knew what they were thinking.

“Very well,” he said, finally. Turning to Rune, he asked, “I assume you’ll need to adjust your calculations to accommodate two people?”

“Three,” Rune answered shakily. “I’d better go as well. Who knows what you’ll have to do once you get there? The shift in affinities most likely applies to all afterlife dimensions, not just Valhalla.”

“Right,” Loki said with a sigh. “Three it is. How long until you’re ready?”

“Perhaps fifteen minutes?”

“Make it ten, and meet us by the entrance to the bridge. I have to get Heimdall out of the way.” 

With that, he turned and strode briskly out of the room, Zev at his heels.

As they approached the bridge, Loki cast an illusion to hide the two of them from prying eyes, then studied one of the bridge pylons closest to them. Nodding to himself, he raised his hand and sent a small current of magic toward the bottom of the pylon. Zev watched, but nothing seemed to be happening.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t just blast the thing down. That would attract too much attention and bring the entire army running. It has to look like a structural fault is destabilizing the bridge.”

“Got it.” Zev watched as small cracks began to appear in the pylon and the metal slowly began to buckle. By the time Rune joined them a few minutes later, the surface of the bridge began to lurch as well. 

A figure on the far side of the bridge came running toward them. Heimdall ran past without noticing them, trying to determine the source of the problem.

“Now!” Loki hissed and ran onto the bridge, Zev and Rune following closely behind. The three sprinted the length of the bridge, stopping before Valhalla’s gateway. 

Rune touched a rune engraved on the side of the portal. It glowed with a warm yellow light, then he did the same with another, and another. 

After nearly a minute of this, he turned to Loki. “The coordinates are set, but, well, let’s just say I’m better with the theory than with the practical. You’ll have to activate it.”

Loki brushed him lightly aside and sent a blast of green energy toward the center of the gateway. The solid surface of the gateway was replaced by a swirling vortex.

On the far end of the bridge, Heimdall stopped his investigation and started running back toward them. 

“Let’s go,” Loki said, and the three of them stepped into the vortex.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Jane shook her head to clear it when the blast of energy around her faded. She found herself standing in a green meadow dotted with wildflowers and scattered cyprus trees. The air smelled fresh and the temperature was comfortable, for which she was grateful given that her armor had apparently been replaced with a light robe of yellow linen. Her boots were now simple sandals made of light brown leather.

In the distance, she spotted some gentle, rolling hills, partly covered in cultivated fields. A large, single-story wooden house stood on top one of the hills, with smaller dwellings clustered around it. She could hear music that sounded like a cross between a recorder and a bagpipe — a sweet, slow melody that fit in well with the view.

This is Hades? Either Odin sent me to the wrong place, or they have a serious marketing problem.  

She began making her way to the little village, trying to think of something to say without arousing suspicion. 

I hope English works here like it does in Valhalla. Rune had told her that Asgard had an enchantment that allowed people to speak in their own language and be understood by anyone, and that carried over to the afterlife version. 

Upon entering the village, she discovered the source of the music. In a central courtyard, a woman played an instrument that looked like two reed flutes held together with string. Several people lounged nearby on the ground or on cushions, listening to the performance and eating grapes, olives, and some sort of flatbread. She didn’t see anyone actually working in the settlement or in the fields. The contrast between the pastoral, relaxed atmosphere of this place, compared to the rigid schedule and martial intensity of Valhalla, was striking and disorienting.

The listeners watched her approach with expressions of curiosity, but without any apparent concern or alarm.

“Um, hi,” Jane began. “I just arrived here, but I’m not sure where I am, exactly.”

An older woman with long, gray hair smiled indulgently. “A newcomer! We don’t see many of you these days. Welcome to Elysium!”

Elysium? As in the Elysian Fields? Jane vaguely remembered it as the name of something like a Greek version of Heaven. It certainly  seemed to fit. I didn’t know that was part of Hades. Or is it?

She had been expecting dark caves filled with gray, hopeless wretches suffering for all eternity — or a blasted, barren, lifeless landscape. This place seemed idyllic, like the Shire or something out of a 19th century landscape painting.

The woman who had spoken stood up and offered Jane an intricately decorated ceramic plate of food. “I’m Cora,” she said. 

“Jane,” Jane replied, suppressing the urge to offer a handshake. She had no idea what ancient Greek greeting customs were like. She took the plate gratefully. No knowing when she might have a chance to eat again.

Seems unfair that we still have to worry about things like that.

“Jane? That’s an unusual name.”

Oops. “My parents were a bit eccentric.” Jane decided to waste no time. Who knew what would happen if someone realized that she was actually trespassing here? She needed to find out where Laevateinn was, and this didn’t seem a likely place for it.

“So, have you ever met Hades?”

“Lord Hades? He visits this sector once in a while. There’s always a festival in his honor when he does. I’ve only seen him from a distance — which is plenty good enough for me.”

“I see. Where does he spend his time then?”

“He resides in Tartarus. We don’t require much of his attention. We’re quite happy here, really.”

“I’m not surprised,” Jane said. “This is…lovely. So, I know this probably sounds like a strange question, but if I wanted to go to Tartarus, how would I get there?”

“Tartarus? Why in Zeus’s name would you want to go there ?”

“It’s…a long story.”

Cora gave her a long, searching look. “If you want to go to Tartarus, you’ll need to head south.” She pointed in the direction she meant. “It’s a long walk. Lord Hades’ lands are extensive. Are you certain you truly want to do this?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Alright, perhaps half a day’s walk from here. This road should take you there.” The “road” was more of a dirt path.

“Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality — and really, I wish I could just stay here…”

“You’re on quest , aren’t you?” Cora intoned the word “quest” as if it was a sacred matter.

“Well, yes, I suppose I am.”

“Very well. I wish you good fortune.”

Jane was touched and thankful for Cora’s helpfulness. She finished the food she’d been given, handed the plate back to Cora with her thanks, bid the woman farewell, and set off without delay, 

-------------------------------------------------------------

Loki, Zev, and Rune stepped out of the portal and into a scene that struck Zev like something out of one of the horror movies they’d watched on Earth. The three companions found themselves in a large cavern with sputtering torches and scorched-black moss on the stone walls. Fires burned in various places around the space, and the smell of sulfur was thick in the air. 

Loki looked like himself again, but he now wore an emerald-green tunic embroidered with gold, with a black cloak over the top. Rune was dressed similarly, but in a white tunic with yellow embroidery and a gray cloak. Looking down, Zev examined their own appearance to find disconcertingly hairless limbs emerging from a plain white tunic.   

An anguished cry captured their attention. Not far from where they stood, a man was chained to a rock, screaming in agony as some sort of molten metal splattered from a cauldron, searing him drop by drop.

Rune shuddered. “This is horrible! Who would do this?”

“Hades,” Loki answered, grimly. “Though, from what I’ve heard, this is nothing compared to the Christian Hell. At least some of these prisoners are released after a year or so.”

“How do we find Jane?” Zev asked.

“Needle in a haystack,” Loki answered. “We have to find Laevateinn and hope she finds her way to the same place.”

Zev said nothing. Their suspicion regarding Loki’s motives was aroused, but they didn’t have a better suggestion.

Loki swiveled his head from side to side. “That way, I think.” He pointed to their left.

“What are we looking for?” Rune asked.

“Hades’ headquarters. Chances are, he’ll keep any precious possessions close to hand.”

They wandered from cavern to cavern, witnessing various forms of torture that Zev wished they could un-see. Loki seemed to have some idea what he was doing, so the other two simply followed him. 

-------------------------------------------------------------

Jane was beginning to wish she’d asked Cora for some water for the journey. She had no way to track the time, but she guessed that she’d been walking for more than 4 hours. The lovely rolling hills and pastoral settlements had given way to low, craggy outcrops with sparse vegetation and no end in sight.

She followed the path around a jumble of rocks — and stopped cold. 

The path ended at the shore of a lake that stretched as far as she could see to either side. The water was still and dark.

“Well, shoot. Now what?” she asked the empty stillness.   

She squatted and scooped up some of the water with cupped hands. She was tempted to drink it — she was that thirsty. She didn’t know much about Greek mythology, but she knew enough to know that drinking from rivers or lakes in Hades was probably a terrible idea. She sniffed it. It smelled like water, nothing more.

From this position, she could see that the path actually continued into the water. Not knowing what else to do, she stood up, let the water pour from her hands, and took a tentative step into the lake.

This is probably bad for these sandals, but no way am I going barefoot in that.

Nothing happened. She took another step, then another, until she was standing in water up to her knees.  She could see the path sloping down under the water ahead of her. There was no way she could walk it. Maybe she was just supposed to swim?

On a hunch, she kept wading out into the lake until only her head was still out of the water. Well, here goes nothing. She took a deep breath and stepped forward so that she was fully submerged. 

As soon as she did so, she felt herself being pulled downward. What had felt like a solid lake floor disappeared and she was falling fast. The water around her swirled and vanished little by little, until she was falling in total darkness and nothingness. Her flailing arms could find nothing to grab on to. 

She braced for a very hard landing, but it didn’t come. Her lungs complained — she was still holding her breath. She let it out and inhaled tentatively. Air. It smelled very faintly of sulfur.

The astrophysicist in her tried to pay attention the rush of air around her. If I fall long enough, I won’t have to worry about hitting the ground. I’ll burn up before that happens!

The seconds slipped by, but it didn’t feel like she was accelerating. The friction was no worse than when she started falling. The sulfur smell was stronger now. Okay, maybe this is like some sort of elevator? 

Finally she felt herself slowing. She touched down lightly on solid rock to find herself standing at one end of a long tunnel dimly lit by torches along the walls. Looking up the way she’d come, she saw only solid rock above her. 

No way out but through.

She made her way cautiously through the tunnel. Just as she emerged into a larger, cavernous space, she felt a cold mist swirling around her. It coalesced a few feet in front of her and assumed the form of a man, slim and handsome, his short, curly, silver hair offering a striking contrast to his olive-brown skin. 

“May I help you?” he asked, in a low, pleasant voice.

“I’m sorry,” Jane replied, doing her best to look innocent-but-confused. “I… I seem to be lost. I was looking for —“ She hesitated, trying to think of a convincing story.

The man gave her a tight-lipped smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I think I know what you were looking for.” He looked her up and down. “I know every face of every soul in my dominion. You, my dear, do not belong here.”

My dominion. Oh no, please don’t tell me this is Hades himself!

Jane decided a half-truth would be more convincing than a plain lie. “I was in Elysium,” she said. “I was wading in a lake and then I fell. Can you tell me how to get back there?”

Hades’ cold smile remained. “Nice try,” he said. “Cerberus — here boy! Guards!” 

Another mist gathered and settled into the shape of a dog. It was roughly the size and shape of a greyhound, but sported three heads, each growling and displaying razor-sharp fangs.

Huh. I thought he’d be bigger, Jane found herself thinking as a dozen armored men ran toward them from the other end of the cavern. Her instinct was to run, but she doubted she would get far with that dog after her. 

“Seize her,” Hades said to the guards. “Take her to the fortress. I’ll question her later.”

Jane said nothing as two of the guards grabbed her by the arms and marched her away. She looked back over her shoulder. Hades appeared to be talking quietly to Cerberus.

Go to Chapter 6

[themournwatcher]

Okay so I meant to go to bed 2 hours ago. But the Zevran/Naoise dynamic post-Fade has possessed me mind and soul and so i HAD to write a little short thing about it. This is very rough around the edges and the POV is inconsistent as I’m trying to dig into how they might see each other, so be aware of that.

Current thoughts is that seeing Zevran’s hellish torment in the fade is the first opportunity for them to have a deeper discussion or really ANY discussion at all following Zevran’s recruitment, and so therefore Zev doesn’t know about Naoise’s noble background and vice versa ❤️ read below the cut!

—————————————————————

“Zevran,” Naoise called out to the assassin as he walked by, blocking the light of the nearby campfire. “Have you a moment to spare? I should like to speak with you.”

“For you, Naoise? I can give you the whole night,” Zevran purred as he took a few steps back to meet Naoise’s gaze directly. The warden was lounging as comfortably as he could on the broken log, and his hands were kept busy with polishing his daggers. “What is so important that you could not wait to speak with me in the morning?”

Naoise ran the polishing cloth across the length of the blade with a practiced grace; the daggers, a pair of Highever heirlooms, were perfectly balanced even after all they had been through. He sighed and raised his head. “I merely wished to inquire as to your well-being. What happened in the Fade…?”

“What happened in the Fade?” Zevran said through a laugh. “What about it? As I said, I was abruptly woken up from a perfectly pleasant dream about luscious wood nymphs. How dreadful.”

“That’s not how I remember it,” Naoise said with a tilt of his head. “I was there, after all. We are not particularly close—“ an understatement, given one’s recent assassination attempt, “—but if you should ever wish to talk about it…”

“Precisely!” Zevran exclaimed, with such enthusiasm that Naoise sat up straight. “You were there, and thus why I recalled the dream having much to do with wood nymphs. Perhaps I should have referred to you as something more strapping?” His words, his deflection, hung in the air between them. For a second, he worried that he had overstepped; perhaps he had misjudged the warden’s open-mindedness.

Then, Naoise laughed; not loudly or overlong, and no scandalized blush dusted his cheeks, but Zevran considered it a victory nonetheless. Naoise rarely seemed to laugh, instead standing grim-faced and with his arms crossed even when trading witty quips with the others. That Zevran could elicit a real smile out of him was no small feat, even if Naoise was quick to conceal it. His smile might be stifled, but a levity had returned to his grey eyes.

“Do not think I have not noticed that you avoided giving me an answer,” Naoise said, and he almost winced at hearing himself echo his late mother’s words. Standing up to retire for the night, he added, “Be that as it may, I shall not push the subject. I would not wish to wake up with a knife in my throat for any untoward questions.”

“Oh, hardly,” Zevran said. “I assure you, my dear Warden, that I would not be so foolish as to slay the very man who has offered me pardon! The prince of my dreams, dare I say.”

Just as Naoise turned away from the fire, he paused, and then glanced back at Zevran; there was an intensity to the furrow of his brow and the way the light of the fire reflected in his eyes that wasn’t there before. “Prince?”

“Yes?” Zevran asked. “Have *I* said something untoward? You speak with a noble bearing, after all.”

Naoise looked as though he had something more to say, but instead shook his head with a wistful smile. “Pay it no heed. I must bid you a good night, Zevran.” With that, Zevran watched as the warden retired to his tent, his loyal Mabari at his heels following a stretch and a toothy yawn.

FIN

[shivunin]

For the character meme, you know I gotta do Zevran but is it cheating to say Wen and Revka too??

hehehehe well it works out cus I wanted to do Zev c: I did my best with Wen, but I think it's a little fuzzy when she's mine.

(Character Ask thing)

Zevran:

First impression: Ohhhh this is the elf guy! The one everyone is always talking about! ...wait, hold up, I think I just killed him 😬 am I supposed to be able to do that???

Impression now: My fucked up assassin beloved. I have tried to romance others but I was always thinkin bout you. Also:

Favorite moment: "You don't want the earring, you don't get the earring." Lol. But actually, I think the moment during the confrontation with Taliesen where he chooses to defend the Warden is extremely well-written. There is such a genuine regret in his voice when he accepts that telling Taliesen no means that he will have to kill him, and it makes me wonder so much about what the two of them were like before.

Idea for a story: I have literally two whole pages in my fic idea book for Zev haha. But two favorites I haven't started yet are one where Wen is passing judgment as the Arlessa and he is just hanging out behind her throne (ostensibly as a bodyguard) making snarky remarks between hearings so she doesn't snap. Also, a time loop fic, but the concept is still vague (shhh don't look at me holding onto my "one half of the pair watches the other one die a bunch" trope again)

Unpopular opinion: this is technically an opinion on the fandom, and I think others have said it better, but the way people make Zev hypersexual all the time/the way people write and draw him a sex object makes me really uncomfortable. There is an element of the "sexy Latin lover" stereotype in his writing that I...don't think a large section of the fandom is really interested in unpacking or understanding. I think his relationship with sex is actually really fascinating and sad (I wrote my Salshira before I knew much about Zev, but the two of them have a lot in common with the way they feel about/act toward intimacy despite having very different backgrounds) but I don't think it's as clear-cut as "Zevran has a very high libido and constantly wants sex/wants to seduce people." (I wrote like....two more paragraphs of this but I will leave it there I think haha. I don't want to go too hard too early here and I have so many thoughts.)

Favorite relationship: Alistair? It's hard to choose because I think Zev has really interesting dialogue with most of them, but I especially enjoy the dynamic between Zev and Alistair. They have such drastically different views of the world and I think (biased because I always romance him but) Alistair's dialogue with him if the Warden is romancing Zev says a lot about both of them. I also enjoy Leliana and Zev (I like that she is just. not really here for his nonsense) but he and Alistair make me laugh more c:

Favorite headcanon: I feel like they all just flew out of my head. Oops. I do like the headcanon that Zev gives at least some of the others tattoos/he did some of his own tattoos. I think it could be a really interesting thing about reclaiming bodily autonomy for Zev to tattoo himself. Also that he's a bottle blond (but I'm weak for fanart of Zev w dark hair).

Arianwen:

First impression: I first knew who she was going to be when I played through the very beginning of the origin. She was covered in that poor girl's blood and I thought "oh I would snap. All these assholes are dead" and the rest is history!

Impression now: My sweet, murderous baby girl. She is allowed to kill whomever she wants, as a treat.

Favorite moment: Hmm I haven't posted it, but there's a moment when she wakes up with Zevran for the first time (well into their relationship) and she realizes that she...actually wants to live. That she likes being alive, and that she likes that he's a part of her life, and that she doesn't want to have already died anymore. And I think it's really lovely (especially when she continues to be like "But We Don't Have Time to Unpack All of That" for several months)

Idea for a story: Again, so many lol. My favorite unwritten one is her battle with Loghain, because I think choosing to fight him is a turning point for her.

Unpopular opinion: Uhhhhh.....I think by virtue of her being mine, all of my Wen opinions are popular opinions. I guess: it's fucked up that she can't write to her family and tell them she didn't die at Ostagar, because I think at minimum she would have told Shianni. Alas, I also like the idea of them holding a funeral for her, so it will just have to remain fucked up.

Favorite relationship: Torn bw her and Ali and her and Morrigan. Haven't shared any of the latter, but I like their "we are going to sit in complete silence and that is fine with both of us" early-game vibes. Wen misses Morrigan a lot when she takes off, and I think the intensity of the loss took her by surprise.

Favorite headcanon: It's all headcanon c: But I think she visits Soris a lot after he leaves the alienage and she is just the Cool Aunt to his many children. It's one of the few places she is only herself, not the Hero of Ferelden or the Arlessa or anything else. She teaches them how to pick locks and fight, of course, to Soris's chagrin (though he comes to admit it's practical in time)

Revka:

First impression: Oooh pretty! 👀

Impression now: I am holding her gently in my hands, absolute wife material, nobody talk to me

Favorite moment: Her tearing through the Circle Tower to find Ceral is *chef's kiss* one of my favorite tropes! I love how much she loves him.

Idea for a story: Wen and Rev begrudgingly trading off Warden-Commander duties. I think it would be funny and they could always try to bribe each other to get out of things, which offers an absolute wealth of story opportunities.

Unpopular opinion: hmmmm I feel like this doesn't apply?

Favorite relationship: I haven't seen much of her dynamic with the rest of the party, but I like the dynamic you've built between her and Ceral (and of course Wen and Revka's friends to lovers pining thing in our throuple au, but it felt like cheating to say so first c:)

Favorite headcanon: Secret bookshelf room with all her smut in Vigil's Keep. Secret smut library with nice comfy couch and nice convenient fireplace.

[cinnasalmon]

oh yeah re: loss of bodily autonomy I meant getting enthralled in the shadowlands and getting stuffed into a mind flayer pod. also I know the timeline doesn’t match up But I like to think about the act 2 durge love interest scene but with zev.

Ok SWEET thats what I thought but I am constantly thinking i'm misinterpreting people so thank you 🙏 

BUT YO!!!!!!! THE POTENTIAL. The ol rusty idea machine is creaking awake

Putting a break because I just know this is gonna be a word salad

In that scene Durge wakes up Zevlor—I can see him startled awake ngl but when he sees them he calms, “Oh, it's just you, love,” then his anxiety spikes again when he sees they have a concerned look on their face. “What's wrong? Are you alright?” He might reach over to place a reassuring hand on their arm but they pull away, afraid of what may happen if he gets too close 

Durge: “You're in grave danger. We need to act fast."

Zevlor doesn't even ask specifics, he just says “Tell me what I need to do,” and even though he's explicitly told HE'S in danger his utmost concern is his partner ❗❗ ough

He won't be happy binding them up (at least not in these circumstances). Seeing them struggle against the constraints fuckin just yanks at his heart. Before he was enthralled, he would've been horrified to see Tav in such a state. And right now he still is, but this hits much closer to home now that he knows all too well the helplessness of your own body being taken over as a puppet basically. Not a damn thing you can do but watch. He looks at Tav with pained eyes, not just to know his lover had kept such a big secret hidden away, but there's nothing either of them can do about it now but wait it out 😭

But god could you imagine, a paladin who basically has a new oath, to protect his significant other, who just so happens to be the Dark Urge and could kill him at any moment should they succumb to or fail to resist their violent impulses? Whew the DRAMAAAAA

[ghostwise]

i didn’t say zev because i thought someone else would LOL.. sending you zevran! and isabela :) !

Zevran

First impression: Genuinely such a good guy. A test of the Warden's willingness to trust; he comes in as an antagonist, after all, and so much hinges on what the player's reaction to this is. I think the way his backstory is revealed is perfectly executed; glimpses, here and there, between the jokes and the innuendo.

Impression now: WHAT CAN I SAY I FIND HIM COMPELLING… truly a character that tackles some universal questions about the human condition. What can you do, when you feel you've failed yourself so completely and so thoroughly that not even running to another country to die can fix it? How do you define yourself when your identity was purposefully manipulated and subjected to horrific abuse your whole life? How do you stay whole? Do you even need to stay whole? Do you need to be whole to love? To do good in the world? To be worthy of it?

Favorite moment: Antivan poetry convo is a classic, it's just so sincere. He knows he's being a bit of a fool, but it's a good exchange, if it makes the Warden smile.

Idea for a story: MMMM listen. Gestures to the entire Everything. But I will say there is a very far-off story where he accompanies Hamal in finding his mother's clan. Don't know if I ever will write it, but!

Unpopular opinion: I've said it before but I find it distasteful when people act like he was all over the Warden right away from their first meeting. Buddy, he just survived a suicide attempt.

Favorite relationship: Besides Zevran/Warden, I'd say Zevran/Isabela, Zevran/Alistair, and his friendship with Leliana is so good.

Favorite headcanon: I think it's contextually supported but I really DO think he's primarily a creative soul, I think I've written him doing poetry (canon), tattoos (canon), drawing (canonically tattoos, so he must know how to draw), and jewelry + metalwork (supported by the metal rounds, which the item description states he made himself; plus the gifts of silver and gold he receives). Sign that boy up for some art therapy is what I've done.

Isabela

First impression: She has one of the coolest intros of any DA character, honestly. But that's very much what the setup is supposed to be right? There's complexity behind that, there's a person who's suffered a ton, and doesn't have her shit figured out, and she's beautifully vibrant and relatable bc of it. She's not agonizing about it, either. Over time she comes to be patient with the questions within herself. She extends that to others. She's just lovely.

Impression now: She deserves the entire world… and a ship to sail it. <3

Favorite moment: Her convo in Act 3 when she and Hawke reunite, only because knowing they were apart for a while is so harrowing to my heart.

Idea for a story: A story where she and Merrill enjoy a festival day at the alienage :)

Unpopular opinion: Not sure if this is unpopular? But I really feel like her backstory in the comics is so out of character. I don't know suddenly I can't read…

Favorite relationship: This one is genuinely tough. But I have to say, Isabela/Fenris and Isabela/Merrill.

Favorite headcanon: I like to think she helped Kirkwall's mages escape by ship, and some of them stuck around as members of her crew.

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Hope

Beatrice tells Zevlor she needs to go to the House of Hope. SFW.

I’m sorry, Zev.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

Zevlor stiffened, his chest tightening. “Oh?”

Be brave. You’re doing the right thing.

Then why does it feel like I’m betraying him?

Hurting him?

Beatrice snuggled against him as they lay in his bed at the temple. Another hard day. Tomorrow will be harder. “Do you remember when I said that the Emperor is keeping the githyanki prince imprisoned to prevent us from turning? Well, there’s a way to free him.”

“I’m sensing a but, dear.” he said, quirking an eyebrow.

She sighed. “The means to free him is in the House of Hope…which is in Avernus.”

His hold on her tightened. “Is there no other way?”

He’s scared. Scared I won’t come back. He gave me hints of how awful it was, but I have a feeling it’s so much worse.

“I’m afraid not, love. The hammer is in the House of Hope. That’s where we’re going tomorrow.”

“Promise me that you’ll return. Promise me.” Though she could not see it, she could hear it in his voice. He’s crying. Oh Zev, no.

She shifted to look at him. “Of course I am. How could I not?” Believe me. Please. “We have a lovely future ahead of us, Zev. I’m fighting for that. Well, and for the Moonmaiden and everyone obviously, but quite a bit of it is fighting for our future. For us. That gives me the strength to carry on, because fuck me, there’ve been points where I’ve cried and screamed and hoped that all this has been a weird, awful nightmare…but then I think about you. About us. And that makes me happy.” And now I’m crying. “When I’m with you, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I love you, and I swear in My Lady’s name, I will always come back to you.”

Zevlor pulled her back against his chest, a choked sob escaping him. He rocked them slowly and whispered to her, “I-I had no idea the depth of your feelings. Truly? I bring you that much joy?”

She began to laugh. “Zev, really?! After I said all that, that’s what you think?” Beatrice placed a few kisses on his chest and continued to giggle. “Gods, yes. Yes, you make me that happy.”

And I am coming back.

With Her strength and grace, I shall prevail.

***

As soon as Beatrice, Halsin, Gale, and Astarion returned to the Devil’s Fee, the three gentlemen badgered me into returning to the Elfsong Tavern to clean up and spend the night with Zevlor at the temple.

“Alright, alright---I’m leaving! Have a great everyone!” She laughed, waving to her companions. Once her steps were no longer heard on the stairs, Lae’zel spoke.

“If Bea doesn’t ride that teeth-ling like a knight rides her steed, then she is a fool.”

***

Zevlor was reading a book of poetry when his lover burst into his room.

There she stood triumphantly in my new favorite dress (the white one from Master Figaro), hands on her wide, soft hips. “Told you I’d be back.”

He tossed his book on the table and raced to her open arms. “By the waking gods, you did it! You did it! My love!” Hugging her, she could feel his relief. “Oh my darling, you did it!”

You bet your red ass I did, love.

“Zev, I killed a devil in his own house. The Orphic Hammer is ours. I freed a prisoner. And…and…I got some kickass armor! And now,” she kissed his nose. “I get to be with you tonight, as ordered by the group.”

He shook his head with a half-smile tugging on his lips. “Then I’ll be sure to thank them a later date for allowing me the privilege of your company tonight…I…” Why does he look so nervous all of a sudden? “I…”

Wait.

Letting go of her, he reached into one of his pockets and got on one knee.

Oh.

My.

Gods.

It’s happening.

Clearing his throat, Zevlor opened a small jewelry box with a—

WAIT A SECOND!

I KNOW THAT RING!

THAT’S MUM’S!!!!!

“Zev—”

He shook his head again, staring up at her with shining eyes. “Please, pulchra. I need…I wanted to wait for a suitable moment, but after today, I must…I must…I’ve thought much about what you said last night---about how happy I make you.” He bit back a sob. “You must know that I feel the same way. With you, I feel as if all the suffering and hardship I endured is worth it if you are the reward. I realize that out of your many suitors,” I had approximately two but alright, love. “I am at a disadvantage in nearly every way---I am an old tiefling Hellrider, I plan to retire once this whole Absolute business is done with, and I yearn for peace and quiet. However, I cannot deny how I feel…how you make me feel…I wish to spend whatever years I have left with you. I am yours, my darling girl, if you will have me. Will you marry me?”

A breathy laugh escaped her as she smiled and nodded. “First of all, yes, I will marry you…but more importantly, Zev---that’s Mum’s engagement ring. How did—”

Slipping the ring onto her left ring finger, he rose to his feet. “Your mother came here some weeks ago, asking to speak to me. I, of course, said yes. She said it was your late father’s wish and hers that if I was serious about you that I should use her ring.” He exhaled sharply, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over the ring. “Your mother is a formidable woman, pulchra. I see where you get it from.” He winked, smirking at her.

WHAT?!

“Zev! Moonmaiden take me, I am not like my mum.”

AM I?!?!?

He laughed, bringing her hand to his mouth, gently kissing her knuckles. “Hmph, in battle and throughout this journey, you most assuredly are, my dear. But enough of that. We should celebrate, no?” Oh, that’s his tail going around my leg. “Have you eaten?”

She shook her head. “No, and I am hungry…and tired.” Really tired. But tomorrow is finding the way to Duke Ravengard to rescue him.

Stay in the moment, Bea.

Zevlor snorted. “I don’t doubt it. Sit down, darling. I’ll run to the kitchen and make a tray for you.”

After he pulled out a chair for her and helped her sit down (he’s such a gentleman, my Zev), she watched him leave and sighed happily.

You were right, Da. “Never stop hoping.”

I never did.

And now I’m going to marry the most wonderful man in the world after saving…the world.

It’s a bit complicated, if I’m being honest…

But as long as I have Zevlor, then I’m content.

No, more than content.

Happy.

[highwayphantoms]

happy dadwc Friday jay!! a prompt for youuuuu: ❛ don’t enter the city, it belongs to the dead now. ❜, perhaps with either your Tabris or Serafina?

hewwo here's some Tabris for youuuu

for @dadrunkwriting

Words: 397 Rating: T

-

Denerim reeks of death. An acrid smog still hovers over the city, though to the best of her knowledge the fires have either been put out or have burned themselves out. Regardless, Tabris wants nothing more than to get out. The Archdemon is dead, Ferelden has both king and queen again; her job is done, and Denerim no longer feels like home.

She makes it as far as the ruined remnants of the city walls before anyone finds her. Or, rather, before she finds someone. Zevran leans against a partially intact chunk of the wall, watching her with eyes that certainly know more than she would prefer. She stops a few paces away, and he asks, “Leaving so soon?”

“Thinking about it,” Tabris replies. If not for the fact that Alistair would certainly send people looking for her if she left without telling him, she would already be long gone.

“Hm.” He pushes off the wall and says as he strides towards her, “Thinking about leaving Denerim, or leaving me?”

She scowls at him. “This is the first I’ve seen you since we brought down the Archdemon. That was three days ago, Zev.”

He responds with a minutely raised eyebrow. “You were injured. Are injured,” he says, with a pointed look at her right arm, still splinted and held against her chest by a makeshift sling. “And the Chantry needed help collecting the dead.”

Tabris shrugs and grumbles, “Why bother? This city, it might as well belong to the dead now.”

“What of your family?”

The unabashed concern in his tone grates at her. “They’re alive,” she says after a moment. What’s left of her family, anyway.

“Then there is life yet in Denerim,” he says with a wry smile. “I would like to meet them properly, at some point.”

She can already imagine the face her father will make upon learning that she’s gone and fallen for a Crow. It is not a reassuring thought. Still… “If we start walking now, we can be there in time for supper,” she muses aloud. “Maybe don’t tell them how we met, though.”

“No?” Zevran chuckles and as she turns back towards the city, he slings an arm around her shoulders. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“You’d ruin my reputation for being a heartless murderer,” she says, perfectly deadpan.

He laughs, and for a fleeting moment nothing else matters.

[bitchkay]

Uhh... NSFW for Zev ig...

Zev is a bottom, you cannot change my mind. I also see him especially being into degradation and bondage. Go crazy, go stupid

Oh I have plenty of nsfw thoughts for Zev trust me, I am in fact going crazy, going stupid

As soon as they're an Avarian that's not Guy(or j*sper) I'm just like MMM WHORKNEE😩😩

Like I made a banner for him for a reason

Ha ha the amount of fanfiction I've written for this man and I don't even think mc has ever had a positive interaction with him💀💀

I literally have 5 WIPs for the man, the legend, THE prince Zev Avari, third in line and youngest Avarian son.

I bully him but I also would like to have sex with him.

He's dreamy, even with his 2016 skater boy hair cut🥰🥰

Anyway-

5 work in progress fanfucs 4 of them being smut and would you believe me if i said bottom Zev has actually never crossed my mind

But ya know what hell yeah!!

Zev's literally a slut

Look at him

He's a slut

Bro wait-

Hold on o just thought of something

Nah I'm jumping straight into this imagine, the wheels are already turning

Imagine this☆:

"Do you not think this is a tad excessive?" "There's so much more I can do to you, you got the long end of the stick." His wrists were tied behind his back but he was otherwise free, retrained nonetheless but still mobile if he so chose. His hands were the only things bound together yet he behaved as if he were hogtied. Zev sat on a chair in front of you, shirt falling off his shoulders fully unbuttoned, as well as his pants. You presented him like a meal waiting to be devoured, the foil peeled back just enough for anticipations sake. "Long end of the stick??" You lightly backhanded his cheek in warning before setting yourself down on his legs. The first sign of struggling when he unconsciously tries to reach for you, tugging against the ties on his wrist. "Don't struggle." You caressed his cheek, tucking a blond strand of hair behind his ear in faux comfort. You ran your hands down his exposed toned chest before reaching for his open pants caressing the bulge beneath his underwear. "I cannot touch you? Why you devil~" You rolled your eyes at his attempt to flirt before squeezing him harshly through his boxers. "Aht!" "You will only watch. You can't touch me. You can't cum. I'll use your pathetic cock as a toy and you will behave yourself." Left to silence under your hard gaze and grip on his cock he obeyed, submitting to you. While physically stronger than you and only his hands having been tied, he could still flip the tables at any moment, hell he could just stand up and yet– "Good boy." –he dosen't. You hiked up your skirt, freeing his stiff cock from its confines, tapping his tip against the damp fabric of your panties. Zev sucked in a breath as he felt you through the thin fabric that separated your sex, clenching his fists behind his back. You teased the head over your clothed pussy, smearing the arousal all over the seat of your panties. "... you're so wet, do I make you--" "Shut up." You slapped a hand over his lips stopping his speech. "Did I not tell you to behave?" You grind against Zevs cock for a while longer until it was burning with need, the tip an angry red and twitching every time he brushed your folds through your underwear. Giving into your own needs you pulled your panties to the side, sliding down on his dick, filling you up to the brim. Sitting flush to his hips you circled your hips a low moan on your lips watching as Zevs entire body tightened, clenching his teeth to hold himself back from cumming right there and then. "Mmm.. your slutty cock's inside me Zev... think I'm gonna make myself cum with it~" you teased as you rose and fell, effectively bouncing on his cock. "You'll watch me get myself off, wont you? Use you like a dildo, yes?"