#rolan i love you

[roastedoatmilk]

i’m very normal about the red tiefling wizard from baldur’s gate 3 btw

pretty please read my fic about him i’m begging

[kelsh]

“You were a friend when we needed it, and we won’t forget that. Should you ever need it, you have family in Baldur’s Gate.” - Zevlor

[melonalemonade]

I think they umm they

[arczism]

Commission for @themeghanlodon <3

Process under the crop

[leopardmuffinxo]

promise me you'll be safe. no unnecessary heroics. promise me i'll see you in Baldur's Gate. ♡

[timethehobo]

Preorders are now live! There’s several variants for each character, so be sure to pick the right character + number! Link here!

Preorders end on 16 Aug 12am SGT, after which charms will be in production and shipped. Pls read the description and note the production and shipping time! Any enquiries can be made directly on Etsy messages.

[sav-not-tav]

this is what heaven looks like, if you were wondering

[bxttxrflybxddie]

Kinktober Day 1: Dirty Talk - Rolan

a/n: yippee first time actually doing a kinktober!! this kinda turned into praise but f it we ball

pairing: rolan x gn! reader

word count: 0.8k

warnings: MINORS/AGELESS DNI I BLOCK ON SIGHT!!!!!! unedited, a hint of breeding towards the end, unprotected, not specific genitalia for reader, dom reader, rolan cries but it doesn't hurt, bites, someone tell this tiefling I'm obsessed with him, reader calls rolan baby btw

One of Rolan’s favorite aspects about you is your voice. 

Ever since meeting you at the grove, your voice has been playing in his head- repeating a constant harmonious tune. The way words rolled off your tongue was enchanting, he was sure you must’ve permanently charmed him. Despite his hurtful beratement in the shadowlands, you’ve continued to be a friend to him and his family. Including saving his siblings and helping defeat his previous master. When you approached him shortly after saving Baldur’s Gate asking for a place to stay, he was thrilled to welcome you as the newest addition to the tower. Not only was he excited for your presence but also to hear your music daily.

Some of his prized memories of your voice have been your first meeting where you cut into his and his siblings’ argument conversation, questioning his plans for the tower, and agreeing to have him be yours.

However, His most beloved melody from your voice is here and now. “You like it when I fuck you like that, Master?”

The wizard would answer obediently whilst on his knees, feeling you up from below and thanking you for indulging him tonight. Alas, you’ve ridden him so long to the point of overstimulation that he can say little but moan in response. 

Suddenly, you grip his jaw and force him to look at you, minding the bruises and bites littered around his neck. He’s pulled into a kiss while you shift your weight for support. He can feel your teeth pulling at his lip, and he’d almost feel worthy of an apology if his nails weren’t digging into the plush of your thighs. You pull away with a thin string of spit.

“This is what you’ve needed, right baby? To be taken care of?” You ask him between your groans. A particularly hard thrust against him knocks a sense of clarity into your Rolan, if only for a second.

“G-Gods, yes!” He manages to reply. It’s been stressful as of late, dealing with the intricacies of the tower. There’s no where else he’d want to be, especially with you, but it’s been a heavy weight to carry nonetheless. When you agreed to let him do nothing but lay back and listen to you, he just about came then and there. Thank the Gods he didn’t, this moment is perfection.

Your hands snake their way back against his chest, helping you push yourself off and on against him.

“You are so handsome, you know that? I love it when you look like this, debauched.” His ears burn until they’re numb, on nights when you bed him you’ve made it clear how attractive you find him. He didn’t think that tonight would’ve been one of those nights as well. Obviously, he was mistaken.

“Answer me.” You purr, slowing your pace to a stop, his throbbing cock nestled deep inside you.

“Y-yes, yes gods- please!” He sputters out, tears threatening to spill from the sudden lack of vigorous movement. You lean down again and kiss the cusp of his ear, biting gently as your speed returns, but not to the same as before. He moans as chills spread against his skin; bringing his nipples to a peak.

“Say it. Say you’re handsome. I’ve seen how you’ve looked at yourself today, looked at what’s mine.” You roll your hips against him with the last word falling from your lips, drawing emphasis. You were not going to accept your love thinking of himself however low he was today, not with the beautiful sight under you currently. His hair stuck to his forehead and horns from sweat, purple blooming on his neck and collarbone, and golden eyes that can barely hold your loving stare.

“I’m handsome..” “Louder.”

“I-I’m,” the tears from earlier have began to fall.”I’m handsome.”

You move your hips to the pace matching his volume. Rolan’s jaw drops with a whine as he realizes what you’re up to.

“You’re what, baby?” “Handsome! Zurgan- I’m handsome just p-please..” 

“That’s right, and all mine.” With your grace, you return to your previous pace- if not more unrelenting. 

Rolan shakes, and you know exactly what it means. A sob from his lips confirm your suspicions.

“Are you going to cum in me, Master? Fill me, claim me as yours?” Rolan can only whimper in agreement, his hands moving to rest on your waist as you brutally fuck yourself on him- chasing after his orgasm. 

The wizard shakes, a degenerate moan filling the room as well as skin slapping skin. Warmth floods your senses as you ride out the last few twitches of his cock, your own pleasured noises accompaning his. 

“That’s it, there you go, baby.” You mutter. His head falls back on the pillows, his throat stretched as he cries throughout the rest of his orgasm. 

After plenty of deep breaths from you both, you shift your weight off of your love and curl up next to him. You invite him into a conversation about his current state of mind before sharing “I love yous” and falling into a satisfying sleep.

© BXTTXRFLYBXDDIE

[harpyqueen714]

Indeed, Rolan. Indeed.

[spellcaster-seance]

POV: Rolan as Tav

I'll post more soon :>

[roastedoatmilk]

Let The Light In

Rolan x Fem Tiefling Tav (Sybil)

summary: The five times Rolan thinks his feelings for Sybil are unrequited and the one time Sybil catches him by surprise

word count: 3.4k

tags: angst with a happy ending, unrequited love but not actually, rolan being an ass, cal and lia being amazing as usual, idiots who are obviously in love but don't know it.

A/N got the idea for this fic by @gnomishcunning it’s a bit different from what they posted but it’s the same concept !!! let me know if yall would like to see sybil's pov of this fic ! this is also on ao3

One

The first time Rolan met Sybil was admittedly not one of his better moments, the wizard had been arguing with his siblings when the hero showed up with her rag tag group of companions. The purple haired tiefling had wandered over to the siblings, taking a moment to listen as the one with his brown hair pulled up argues that they need to make it to Baldur’s Gate as soon as possible causing his siblings to groan in disapproval.

“She’s right,” Sybil piped up, “we survived Elturel, surely a wizard as accomplished as yourself can help with the fight here.” her voice soothed Rolan’s ears, he had never heard such a wonderful voice before. 

“Thank you, it’s the right thing to do and you know it!” Lia says, her words aimed at her stubborn brother.

“She’s right Rolan, we're better than this.” Cal agrees.

Rolan rolled his eyes and sighed “Zurgan fine I’ll stay too lest you end up with your throats slit by a goblin blade.” 

“Thank you Rolan.” Lia sighs before walking away with Cal at her side.

Sybil approaches Rolan again, curious about the stubborn tiefling. 

“We should’ve left by now, damnation.” Rolan grumbles, “Instead we’re sitting here practically begging to be attacked, staying is a mistake.”

A slight frown finds its way onto the cleric’s light blue face, “You’re doing the right thing you know, the tieflings need help.” Sybil says calmly.

“And what about us? There’s every chance we’ve doomed ourselves by helping these people.” Rolan scoffs.

Before Sybil can even respond the grumpy wizard continues, “We will end up fodder for some goblin’s blade all because Lia insists on helping every wounded foal we see, our best chance to make it to Baldur’s Gate is on our own. This place is lost.” 

Sybil’s frown deepens her eye twitching in irritation as he once again mentions the illustrious city, “Why are you in such a rush to get to the city?” the cleric questioned crossing her arms over her chest. 

Rolan straightened himself up, puffing out his chest at the question, “Well you are currently looking at the newest apprentice of Lorroakan,” the red tiefling bragged, a smirk on his face. “Yes that Lorroakan, the greatest wizard in Baldur’s Gate.”

Sybil’s red eyes twitched even more at the mention of the ginger haired wizard, “You mean Lorroakan who lives in Ramazith tower in the Upper City? I’ve heard some pretty nasty things about that man.” the hero tells the shorter man, her irritation evident. 

The corner of Rolan’s lips twitched, “All rumors I can assure you, Master Lorroakan is the best of the best and I would study under nothing less.” the wizard huffs. 

Sybil nods in response not fully believing him but not wanting to argue. She turns to her companions and begins to chat with them, with her attention no longer on him Rolan takes time to fully take in the hero’s appearance. She stood more than a few inches taller than him. Her dark purple hair was pulled back into a tightly braided bun, strands of hair brushing against her face parting around her horns. Rolan watches as she laughs at something the wizard in purple robes says, her ruby red eyes crinkling up as she smiles, her tail flicks slightly as she laughs. He’s shook out of his daze when he feels an elbow jab into his side, his head whips to the left to see Lia has made her way back over to him, smirking at her brother with a knowing look on her face. Rolan scoffs and looks away, refusing to give her the satisfaction of his embarrassment. 

After a moment Sybil and her group bid the siblings farewell, making their way down to the Druid’s Grove. Rolan watches the cleric as she leaves, Lia and Cal, who had rejoined his siblings, watch their brother with matching looks on their faces. Rolan sighs as she fades from view, thinking that he really messed up whatever chance of companionship that he had with the cleric.

Two

It had been weeks since the last time Rolan had seen or heard from Sybil, he and his siblings tried to make their way through the Shadow Cursed Lands but things went terribly wrong. Which is why Rolan now finds himself sitting at the bar in the Last Light Inn, drowning his sorrows in liquor. The wizard was so lost in his own misery, he failed to realize that a certain tiefling cleric had once again managed to find him. 

“There’s another bottle of Arabellan Dry over there, put it on the bar, then piss off and leave me alone.” The wizard snaps at the two children manning the bar.

“Jahiera said that we should serve drinks but that we shouldn’t serve drunks.” Ide tells the wizard, her eyes catching on the purple haired tiefling who had finally made it over to where Rolan was. 

“Jahiera didn’t save your ragged little tail from the cultists, I did.” Rolan quips, his words slurred. He was too far gone to notice the presence that had appeared behind him. 

“Do you want to talk about your sorrows instead of drowning them?” Sybil asks gently, resting her hand on the wizard’s shoulder.

“I’d rather drown than talk to a sanctimonious prick like you,” Rolan snaps at her before harshly shrugging her hand off his shoulder. Sybil flinches at his tone, completely taken aback. 

“If you’re here to save the day again you’re a little late this time.” The brown haired tiefling retorts, refusing to look at Sybil. 

“What’s wrong Rolan? Is there any way I can help?” Sybil asks carefully, trying her hardest not to upset the man further. 

“Oh sod off,” Rolan snarls, finally turning to face the taller woman “I’m only here because you helped me and my family. I was ready to cut and run back at the grove but you had other ideas.” 

The pure venom in his voice shocks Sybil, she had never heard him sound so angry before, not even back at the grove. 

“Cal and Lia were taken in by your crap,” Rolan snaps at the cleric once more, “You convinced them to play hero, and now they're gone.” 

Sybil gasps, her eyes watering at the thought of the twins being taken by the cult. The purple haired cleric clears her throat before responding to the angry wizard with, “Then it’s my responsibility to bring them back.”

This didn’t seem to be the correct response however all it did was make Rolan even angrier, he rounds on the taller woman before yelling, “They’re my responsibility, you go save the world, or your own arse, or whatever it is you do,” He glares at the taller woman, “I’ll fix this.” 

Rolan turns back to the bar refusing to look at her any longer, he briefly thinks to himself through his drunken haze that he’s definitely messed it up with her this time but he can’t find it in himself to care, too focused on the pain of losing his siblings.

Three

The darkness of the Shadow Cursed Lands is more intense than Rolan remembered, the light from the torch he carries barely cutting through it. He doesn’t let that deter him though, too focused on trying to get to Moonrise so he can rescue Lia and Cal. Faintly Rolan hears whooshing behind him, he ignores it and continues on his way. He makes it all of ten steps before he’s being surrounded by shadow fiends. Rolan desperately tries to fend them off but with only one hand being available to use it wasn’t much help. Just as he was beginning to accept his fate and let the fiends take him he hears shouting in the distance. 

“BY THE GODS ROLAN IS THAT YOU???” Sybil shouts running as fast as her legs can go, her companions following closely behind the purple haired tiefling.

Right as the cleric makes it to where Rolan stands a fight breaks out, Sybil and her companions fight valiantly against the fiends. The sight of it makes a bitter feeling settle in the wizard’s stomach. Before long the fight was won, the finishing blow being landed by Astarion’s arrow soaring straight into the final fiend. Sybil turns frantically towards Rolan already reaching in her pack for a healing potion to give to him, the sight of it only worsens the feeling in the pit of Rolan’s stomach.

“Gods damn it all, I can do nothing right- not a damn thing.” The man shouts, shocking everyone around him. 

“Rolan, please tell me you weren’t looking for Moonrise.” Sybil says, blood and dirt staining her face. Her eyes wide as she looks at the broken man before her. 

“So what if I was, Cal and Lia could be there,” the wizard snaps, “Instead I found myself cornered by shadow fiends and in need of rescue. From you of all bloody people.”

Sybil steps back a bit, the healing potion still clutched firmly in her hand.

“Rolan, Cal and Lia have already been rescued from Moonrise along with the other tieflings, they’re back at the Last Light waiting for you,” The purple haired cleric tells the man gently. “You were trying to help your family, you’re too hard on yourself.” Sybil holds out the hand that's holding the healing potion to the red tiefling.

“Or not hard enough, I’ve failed Cal and Lia again I should’ve been the one to rescue them not you.” Rolan growls, snatching the potion from Sybil’s hand and downs it. “Right then back to the Last Light, where I can tell my siblings how I’ve once again failed them.” 

Rolan doesn’t wait for anyone to answer before turning around and marching in the direction that they came from. On his way back Rolan thinks to himself that Sybil was only trying to help and that he shouldn’t have snapped at her. He once again has mucked things up with someone who was only trying to help.

Four

When they all make it back to the inn Rolan immediately hears his siblings calling for him and rushes over to them.

“Did you enjoy relaxing here while I battled that wretched darkness?” Rolan questions his siblings furiously, “What were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry, we got captured by murderous lunatics!” Lia snaps back.

“I thought you were dead you ass. Both of you!” Rolan retorts.

“We’re all safe Rolan, that's what matters.” Cal replies, trying to ease the tension in the room.

Sybil makes her way over to the siblings relieved that they made it back safe, “Rolan was in a bad state without the two of you.” Sybil tells the twins gently.

"I was just - overwhelmed, it doesn't matter.” Rolan sighs trying his hardest to not concern his siblings about his well being. 

Lia and Cal finally fully take in Rolan’s appearance, his normally well done hair loose and almost completely undone, the bottom of his robes caked in mud, the tremble in his voice as he speaks to them.

“I’m sorry, we should’ve been here.” Lia says, feeling horrible for her brother.

“No - no it's not your fault, I shouldn’t have shouted - I’m sorry.” Rolan replies softly.

Cal turns to Sybil, who had been standing off to the side to give the siblings a moment to themselves. 

“Thank you for rescuing me, and the two idiots.” Cal tells the cleric. 

Sybil awws and pulls both Cal and Lia in for a hug, the cleric has grown quite fond of the twins over the time she has spent around them. After a brief moment she lets the two go and makes her way over to Rolan who is shifting on his feet clearly feeling awkward. 

“Anything to add Rolan?” Sybil asks the wizard who is currently refusing to meet her eyes. 

“I’ve lashed out at you, drunkenly and otherwise and you helped anyway,” Rolan sighs, “You didn’t deserve that, I’m sorry and thank you.” 

Rolan finally looks up at the cleric and sees that her eyes have gone misty, his eyes widen in alarm but before he can say anything he too is pulled into a hug by the tiefling woman. The second he feels the warmth of her body against his own Rolan sighs wrapping his own arms around the taller woman. After a few moments Sybil releases the wizard, a small smile on her face.

“I’ve grown rather fond of you three and I always help the people I care about.” Sybil utters, her voice so soft Rolan could barely hear her. 

The wizard feels heat rush to his face, his heart practically beating out of its chest. All the poor man can say in response is mutter a small “Thanks.” causing the cleric to giggle. They stand there with each other for another moment before Sybil and her companions once again bid them farewell. That night as he tried to get some sleep all that Rolan could think of was Sybil, the way she helped him and his siblings without question, the way she brushes off praise for her heroic acts with a purple tinge to her cheeks, the way her eyes crinkle when she smiles, the way her voice sounds as she says his name. Staring up at the ceiling all the wizard can bring himself to say is “Shit.”

Five

Life as the apprentice of Lorroakan was not at all what Rolan thought it would be when he arrived in the city over a month ago. If anything it was far worse than anything he could’ve thought of. Not only was Lorroakan a massive prick who used the tiefling as his personal punching bag, but Rolan’s days have also become incredibly dull. He hadn’t heard from Sybil since the last night he saw her at the inn, not that he was expecting to hear from her at all but there was a small part of him who had hoped that one day he’d wake up to find that a letter from her mysteriously appeared on his nightstand. 

Standing behind the front desk at Sorcerous Sundries the wizard sifted through papers, waiting for a customer to approach. Rolan was growing tired of constantly explaining to people that no he couldn’t in fact tell them what The Nightsong is because he himself didn’t know. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice the very cleric who had constantly been on his mind approach him. 

“Hells Rolan what happened to you?” Sybil asked, concern heavily lacing her voice.

The wizard jumps at hearing the very voice he’d been dreaming of for a month. He looks up to see Sybil standing in all of her beautiful glory, she seems to have collected some scars over the time they were apart, he takes notice of a particularly nasty one gracing her forearm. 

 “Nothing for you to worry about.” Rolan replies silently pleading for her to drop it. He didn’t want to explain that the wizard he had so arrogantly bragged to her about’s favorite way to pass time is to beat him.He should’ve known better however because by the looks of it Sybil didn't believe him, however before she could even try to question him further he changed the subject. 

“But nevermind that, what can I do for you?” The wizard asks, trying to keep this interaction as professional as possible.

Sybil frowns, sensing that she won’t get anything out of him about the bruises covering his face, “Do many people ask about The Nightsong?” the cleric asks, seemingly moving onto what she actually came here for.

“It’s all I deal with these days, people claiming their trinkets are the real nightsong, looking for the mountain of gold Lorroakan promised.” Rolan sighs, “There's even a pamphlet, take one they’re on the desk.”

A small smile flickers to Sybil’s face, finally getting a glimpse of the Rolan that she knows. “I have information on The Nightsong.” The purple haired cleric tells him. 

“Be very sure before you go to visit Lorroakan, he's got a beastly temper but if you really do know something he’ll want to see you. Head upstairs you can find a way to his tower up there.” The wizard replies, locking his eyes with Sybil’s.

The cleric nods in response before stepping forward, “Thanks Rolan it was wonderful to see you, I did miss you you know.” She whispers as if she didn’t want her companions to hear her. Before Rolan could respond Sybil pulled back and motioned for her group to follow her. Rolan only managed to catch one more glimpse of her as she walked up the stairs. For the rest of the shift all he could think about was what Sybil told him, he refused to believe she meant it in any way other than as friends. He had simply messed things up one too many times for her to ever think about him that way. Or so he thought

Plus one

Rolan’s entire body ached, the adrenaline that coursed his body through battle finally wearing off. Lorroakan had been defeated thanks to Sybil and the actual Nightsong or as she called herself Dame Aylin. Once he found out that the Nightsong was in fact a person and not an artifact Rolan felt not only disgusted but betrayed, he never would’ve worked for Lorroakan if he knew. A million thoughts flew through the red tielfing’s mind, he was so distracted that he once again didn’t notice Sybil approach him. He flinches as he feels hands rest on his shoulders. 

“I just wanted to check up on how you’re doing, you know now that Lorroakan is gone.” Sybil says, she rubs her thumbs back and forth across the shorter man’s shoulders. 

“Honestly I feel fine, all things considered.” Rolan replies looking up at the purple haired cleric who is crouched in front of him.

“That’s great to hear, I’m sure being the new master of the tower is going to take some getting used to. I’m here if you need anything.” The blue tiefling tells him gently, her thumbs still rubbing his shoulders. 

For some reason this seems to be Rolan’s final straw, he stands up forcing Sybil’s hands to leave his shoulders. “I just don’t get you, why are you still so kind to me even though I have been nothing but an arse to you since the day we met?” Rolan asks her, his voice heavy.

This caused Sybil to laugh, a fully body genuine laugh making Rolan’s face scrunch up in confusion. 

“Hells Rolan I really thought I was being obvious this whole time, I’m in love with you have been since the day I saved you in the Shadow Cursed Lands.” Sybil says between giggles. 

Whatever he was expecting her to say it sure as hell wasn’t that,  “Are you quite well? I don’t think you’re aware of what you just said.” Rolan tries to reason with the cleric. 

“Oh for the love of the gods yes Rolan I am aware of what I said and I meant every word, now if it’s okay with you I’d like to kiss you now.”  Sybil groans with a large grin plastering her face.

“Well go on then.” Rolan replies, still in shock. 

Before he could think of anything else he felt soft lips enveloping his own. It shocked him just how soft Sybil’s lips are even after months of adventuring. Rolan sighs as he relaxes into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Sybil’s waist and pulling her closer. Kissing Sybil felt like coming home, a warm tingly feeling flooded the wizard’s entire body. The pair kiss for a few more moments before they are interrupted by several wolf whistles coming from behind them causing the pair to break apart. Sybil groans as she sees the shit eating grins on every single one of her companion’s faces. 

“I’m so sorry about them Rolan, excuse me while I knock some sense into them.” Sybil whispers before giving him one more peck on the lips.

Rolan stands there for a moment watching the taller tiefling make her way over to Astarion and pick him up by the back of his armor causing him to yelp. The wizard laughs as he watches the woman that he loves joke around with her companions. The woman he thought not even 24 hours ago that he had zero chances with. For the first time in over a month his heart was completely full.

[poetryvampire]

Can I request headcanons for poly Zevlor and Rolan reacting to gn human Tav genuinely asking both of them if either one of them regrets being in a relationship with them because they don't understand the struggles of being a tiefling and they know how much both men suffered just because both of them are with them? With a happy ending please?

Hello my dear sweet anon! Once again I apologize for taking like a 100 years on this. I've been a little weird lately but as always I loved this idea and was happy to toy with it. Pls enjoy 💜💖💜(✿◡‿◡)

• It's quite late by the time the three of you are walking home from an evening at Elfsong. Rolan, the most inebriated of the group, leads the way, yapping loudly about his latest experiment. Lightly buzzed, you walk arm and arm with Zevlor the both of you enjoying your partner's enthusiasm. It was a beautiful evening until a group of voices in the distances grew louder. 

• "Hey! You alright?" you hear from a few feet behind. You turn to see a human man about your age and a few more men standing farther away. You've never seen him before but he asks again if you need any help. Thinking he was a sort of adventurer you laugh and thank him saying you'll be fine but still the man insists. Zevlor's grip tightens on your arm, understanding what the man is really saying.

•Awkwardly you try to humor the man a little but he keeps asking you questions like where you're going and why. Confused, you turn to Zevlor whose face is stern with rage. He urges you to keep going when suddenly the man grabs your free arm, yanking you back with an unexpected force that sends you tumbling to the ground.

• For a moment chaos erupts around you. The man bellows insults and horrid actuations at your beloved while throwing punches. It isn't long before Zevlor captures him tightly by the throat. You can’t hear exactly what he's saying to the man but by the fear on his face it can’t be pleasant.  He's practically blue by the time the tiefling throws him towards his gang. Zevlor stands his ground and the group scoop up the man and leave. 

• Rolan's at your side the whole rest of the way home. There's a horrible tension in the air. Feeling stupid for talking to the man at all you try to apologize to Zevlor but he doesn't respond, making you panic inside. Your head is spinning, both shocked at the boldness of him to try and ‘save’ you and disgusted that he would think the men you loved were taking you somewhere against your will. Mostly you were saddened by seeing your wonderful partners treated like that once again. 

• “Well that was buzzkill” Rolan murmured, coming from the kitchen with a fresh bottle of wine. The moment you had gotten home Zevlor made himself scarce and you melancholily slumped on the couch starring absentmindedly into fire. Rolan cozied up beside you putting his arm around you. He tells not to worry about it but you can’t help but pour your heart out to him to which he listens patiently. 

 •  Eventually you work up the courage to ask something that’s crossed your mind more than you wanted to admit. “Sometimes I wonder,” you begin, trying not to sound too harsh. “If things would be better for you two if you were with someone else.” Rolan tried to protest but you stopped him. ���Please, it’s just- I try to understand but I don’t-I can’t understand what you go through beings tielfings and I feel like I make things worse sometimes I feel like you might- I mean- I don’t want either of you to regret being with me.”     

 •  “Oh, sweetheart,” Zevlor broke the silence as he perched on the other side of you. You weren’t certain when he had appeared but by the grave look on his face he had heard you clearly. The older man still kept a bit of distance which did nothing to lessen your fears. Rolan, on the other hand, pressed himself close to you, nuzzling right into your neck like some great cat. You loved how openly affectionate he was when he had been drinking. “Don’t say that, don’t even think it.” Rolan said before kissing you several times. 

    •  Rolan boldly affirmed that he didn’t care how many people despised them. He loved you and wanted to be with you and didn’t care that you’re human. He promised he would never hold that against you or regret the relationship. As you clung to each Rolan spouted more words of love, now jovial and over the top in a bid to make you laugh. It helped but your eyes traveled to Zevlor who smiled weakly. 

  •  “I’d be lying to say I don’t wonder such things as well. Certainly things would be easier if you were a tielfing or we human. At times I wish things were different. ” Zevlor began slowly. You could feel your heart sink just as Rolan stopped his display to regard your partner. Sensing your fears Zevlor moved closer and took your hand. “My heart, I could no more regret you than I could regret breathing. But I wish you could be spared such things, it pains me that all my family must suffer no matter the race. I did not mean to get so worked up but seeing him grab you like that- Gods my blood’s boiling at thought. ” 

 • “Than come closer and let us calm you, my love.” Rolan coos, grabbing Zevlor and peppering his face with kisses. You can’t help but smile as the tension of worry finally lifts from you and you join Rolan, raining kisses on your beloved commander. “Do you think any nitwit to blather at us in the street has even known such a love as ours? Has ever had two beauties show them such affection? ” Rolan laughs and soon Zevlor joins him and you feel a sudden warmth spread over you, the joy of seeing your two favourite people happy. The best feeling in the world.

[arczism]

commission for @/rororomanroy on Twitter

+ patreon reward :D

[mumms-the-word]

Daydreams

Characters: Rolan x fem!Tav (Fawn) Summary: Rolan's apprenticeship isn't everything he thought it would be. On yet another dreary day of retail, he lets his mind wander to the frustrating adventurer he met at the grove and left behind in the shadow-cursed lands, a beautiful woman named Fawn. A/N: A gift for the AMAZING @orangekittyenergy for her birthday!!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY friendo!!! Also this is a companion piece, a continuing of this fic about Rolan in Last Light Inn <3

Rolan could taste blood again, coppery and bitter and sharp. It no longer alarmed him. In truth, the taste of blood had become something of a daily occurrence, for one reason if not another. Just another perk of the job, he thought, his mood dark.

He rolled his tongue around the inside of his mouth, searching for the source of the blood. Two tender spots lined the inside of his right cheek where his teeth had broken through the soft tissue—old wounds, about two days old, from when his master had struck him with the side of his staff for answering out of turn. The spots were sore, but they weren’t bleeding. He kept searching until he felt a sharp but fleeting pain along the side of his tongue. He managed to hide his wince.

He must have bitten down on his tongue, but he couldn’t remember when. Was it when Master Lorroakan had sent one of the books flying toward his head this morning, or more recently when a customer had wasted half an hour of his time complaining about the shop’s herb selection (as though Bonecloak’s Apothecary were not literally across the plaza) and he’d literally chewed on his tongue to avoid yelling that at them? Perhaps it didn’t matter.

He sighed softly through his nose and eyed the potions stocked underneath the counter. They had a few healing potions, and a quick swig from one of them would surely heal his bruised and bleeding tongue…but then he’d have to pay for it.

Or would he? It wasn’t as though Master Lorroakan minded the shop at all. The bastard never came down from the top floor of Ramazith’s Tower, let alone venture outside of the Upper City, even with his magical portals that linked Ramazith’s Tower with Sorcerous Sundries. No, it was Rolan’s job to man the shop, keep track of the stock and proceeds, and listen to customers and adventurers alike complain about everything. 

Some glorious apprenticeship this was turning out to be.

He again contemplated the potions but decided against it. He might be the one manning the sales counter, but Master Lorroakan kept an animated armor or two around to keep order, not to mention magical images of himself to test cocky adventurers who thought they could con their way into a reward for the Nightsong. One of them would surely tattle. If Master Lorroakan chose to care, it would mean another “surprise test.”

Rolan wouldn’t be surprised if the surprise test was another myrmidon attack.

He swallowed down the saliva and blood that had mixed on his tongue and tried to forget about the pains in his mouth. And face. And body. He rolled his shoulders to try and ease some of the stiffness there and shifted his weight on his aching feet. Just another few hours and he could close up the shop and return to Ramazith’s Tower. Perhaps his master would be in a better mood today. Perhaps he would finally let Rolan learn a new spell or two. Perhaps…

Perhaps he was just fooling himself. 

Since arriving at Baldur’s Gate, he had learned almost no new magic or magical theory, and what little he had gleaned was from books he had attempted to read when Lorroakan wasn’t looking. Instead what he had learned was how to quickly memorize the shifting pricing and stock for Sorcerous Sundries, how to listen to a complaining customer’s every third word to get through the ordeal of listening to them with less of a headache, and that Lorroakan’s Nightsong venture attracted a very particular brand of increasingly stupid imbeciles—sorry, adventurers. There was one outside right now, still shouting at one of the animated armors about the injustice of not getting to personally see Lorroakan.

Get in line. The bitter thought practically crackled inside Rolan’s mind. He rolled his eyes, mostly to himself.

He had half a mind to cast silence over the adventurer, over this entire shop really, and dull the chaotic, neverending combination of spellcasting, customer chatter, and general chaos. The shop was never quiet, what with all the magical items humming or crackling or occasionally catching fire, or the elemental summons they conjured every morning swirling with water or creaking with the full weight of their molten rock forms, or the clanking of the animated armors. There was always something happening inside the shop, something colorful or dangerous. Sometimes it was amusing. These days most of it was just annoying.

He remembered when he thought all the lightly controlled chaos was thrilling. His first day at the shop and at Ramazith’s Tower, finally in a place that would appreciate his talents. Finally somewhere with color and light, unlike those dark and twisted shadow-cursed lands they’d just escaped. But that excitement had quickly faded.

It was hard to maintain a sense of excitement and wonder when his training involved his master lashing out with violence for every wrong answer given to every nonsensical, impossible question. He wanted to be angry—he was angry—but the anger tangled up in his mind until he was never entirely sure if he was upset at Lorroakan for not making sense, or at himself for failing to understand and learn.

These days, very little made sense. 

He sighed. What he wouldn’t give to have Cal and Lia here. Just to chat over the counter, if nothing else. But more than that, just to see them again. Ever since Lorroakan had refused to let Cal and Lia join them at Ramazith’s Tower, they’d been off finding work around the city and taking rooms at various inns and taverns. Last he heard, they were trying to find rooms at the Blushing Mermaid, just a few streets away. So close, and yet so far. 

He hadn’t seen them in a few days. Either they were busy, or he was. They left notes, and he sent notes back, but he hadn’t seen them physically in a while. He missed them.

But at least they were safe. There had been a moment when he thought they were gone for good. Gone forever. He still had nightmares about it, if he let himself linger on the memories too long.

He folded his arms loosely over his chest, letting his mind wander back to that time, only a few short weeks ago. Most of the early days in the shadow-cursed lands were a haze. A drunken dream he stumbled out of only at the last minute when the shadows attacked him outside the docks of Reithwin. It should have ended with his death.

But then she appeared. 

Fawn.

Gods, he was furious when he saw her. Why her of all bloody people in Faerûn? 

He smiled a little to himself now, remembering. He’d snapped at her and griped and sulked, and she had just let his words glance off her like flimsy darts against an adamantine shield. Completely unfazed. 

He still remembered the look of concern and worry she wore before he’d yelled at her.

Even in that darkness, half-illuminated by his torchlight and the moonlit magic that protected her from the shadows, she had been…lovely. Distractingly so. Even with her eyebrows drawn with concern and the down-turned corners of her mouth, the softness of her lips and hair had distracted him almost entirely. And that distraction had made him angry. How dare she meddle in his affairs again? 

But he’d be dead without her. Days of introspection had finally let him admit that to himself. And more than that, Cal and Lia would be dead without her. It was only because of her that they had survived Moonrise and made it out alive. 

He shook his head to himself. What an annoying, infuriating, maddeningly baffling woman Fawn was.

He wondered what she was doing now.

Probably wrapped up in some chaotic adventure, no doubt. Chaos and danger seemed to follow her every step wherever she went. Or perhaps she intentionally sought it out. That seemed just as likely.

Maybe one day he could walk into chaos at her side.

He blinked, the thought taking him a little off guard. At her side? He uncrossed his arms and rubbed at his temples. Maybe the stress of retail work was getting to him. It was much more likely he’d never see her again, so what was the point of even thinking about her?

But…he glanced around the shop. All the customers were either busy studying the wares or milling about. No one looked ready to approach the counter just yet, which gave him time to…well. Daydream.

Just for a moment.

He bent and rested his forearms against the counter, allowing his back a brief rest as he let his mind wander back to her. The beautiful Fawn. These were daydreams, right? So anything could happen there.

In his mind’s eye, he pictured her walking into the shop with a crooked smirk on her plump lips, her green eyes glittering with untold mischief. She’d approach the counter and stop, setting a hand on her hip, and tilt her head to one side, her soft brown bangs brushing against her forehead.

You up for an adventure? she might say. Or perhaps, Long time, no see. Or maybe, I thought I might find you here.

He would fondly roll his eyes and respond with something clever. It took you long enough. 

And she would laugh. A bright, sparkling laugh that would buoy his dampened spirits, or a sweet, quiet giggle meant only for his ears that would make his calloused heart flutter.

Perhaps he’d get lost in staring. Perhaps he would find himself tracing the line of her nose or the shape of her ears, find his gaze trailing down the scar on her right cheek. Perhaps their eyes would meet, infernal gold with wilderness green, and he’d find in her gaze answers to questions, about her, about the two of them, that he had asked himself a dozen times since they parted in Reithwin. Or perhaps his gaze would linger on her lips, his favorite distraction, and he’d think, not for the first time, not even for the hundredth time, about what it must be like to kiss such lips. To take her mouth with his own and consume her. To pull her body against his and fit himself against her curves and lines, like a puzzle piece locking into place, two parts of one whole. 

He straightened up suddenly, hands pressed against the counter, and shifted his weight. He ought to know better than to entertain such thoughts in the middle of a busy work day.

He tapped his nails against the counter, mostly to get out some of the pent-up energy that had been building up inside him. Click-ck-ck-ck. Click-ck-ck-ck. Click-ck-ck-ck. Another noise to add to the din of the shop.

It was a stupid thought anyway, and he was a fool for playing the lovesick idiot in his dreams. Even if she walked through those doors—and she wouldn’t, he was quite sure—there would be no leaving with her. Not with Master Lorroakan holding his leash.

Oh, he could leave whenever he wanted, sure. But that would mean leaving behind the most lucrative apprenticeship he could possibly secure as a refugee of Elturel, not to mention leaving behind all the treasures of Ramazith’s Tower, be that arcane artifacts or tomes rich with knowledge. His place was here—his purpose was to stay here and make a name for himself, to provide for his family, to become the greatest wizard he could possibly be. He had the natural talent. He wanted to hone it into something awe-inspiring. Something that had value so great it would be impossible to ignore or dismiss.

If that meant dealing with Lorroakan and his insanity…so be it. He could endure it. The violence. The impossible questions. The dull inanity of retail work. He could. For Cal. For Lia.

And…in a way, for Fawn. To prove to her that he was as good as his word. That he was a wizard worth knowing, but more than that, to prove to her that he could learn from his mistakes and improve his craft. Perhaps, eventually, to prove that he was a man worthy of her attention.

He took a deep breath, ignoring the pain in his cheek, on his tongue, in his back, his feet, and rolled his shoulders. Better get back to work, then. 

Back to mindless, repetitive, neverending work.

He was just turning away to check the organization of the trinkets and potion bottles beneath the counter when he heard an all-too-familiar masculine voice at the front entrance.

“Look around you. Indulge your curiosity! Sorcerous Sundries is the finest purveyor of magical miscellany for miles around.”

Rolan turned his head a little too quickly, scarcely daring to believe it. Gale, that pretentious wizard from Waterdeep? But if Gale were here, then surely—

His eyes fell on her immediately, watching her laugh at something Gale said, or perhaps something the tiefling, Karlach, said. He felt himself go a little slack-jawed with surprise. He wasn’t imagining this, right? That was actually her—Fawn was actually walking into the shop with her companions in tow.

Whatever he had imagined in his daydreams and fantasies, the sight of her there in the real world was far superior. Even his best imaginings couldn’t quite capture the way her hair, tied up and back, swung gently with each step and brushed against her shoulders, or the way she moved with grace and confidence. With her staff secured on her back and her easy smile, she looked perfectly at home among the crackling magic baubles and spell summons as she carefully stepped around a wandering illusion of a crab and looked around the space.

Suddenly the shop felt alight with color and wonder again, with her occupying a space in the room. Was he only imagining a fizzling new magical energy in the room now that she had arrived, or was that simply something that always happened when she entered a room? 

Gods, she was beautiful.

He couldn’t bring himself to speak just yet, but it didn’t take her long to notice him. The delight that lit up her features was enough to sustain him the rest of the tenday. “Rolan?”

He couldn’t help but grin. “Fawn! What are you doing here?”

She laughed and jogged over to him. “Well it is called Sorcerous Sundries, isn’t it?” she said with a wink. “I figured I should check it out. What are you doing here?”

“This is my apprenticeship,” he said, shrugging.

“This?” As she reached the counter, she stopped short, her smile fading. “Rolan…”

“It…has not been what I expected,” he admitted, unconsciously lifting a hand to his face. He caught himself before he could touch one of the bruises and clenched his fist, pressing it down onto the surface of the counter. “Master Lo—”

But she didn’t let him finish. She leaned over the counter and cradled his cheek gently in her hand. The touch of her warm skin made all other thoughts fall completely away. There was that look of concern again, the down-turned corners of her mouth, and he felt himself faltering under such a look now where before it had only angered him. 

What had he done to earn such compassion from her? After all the times he’d yelled and snapped at her, tried to drive her back or insult her—he may have let his imagination get the better of him, to let himself fantasize that perhaps she would regard him as a friend, or (perhaps foolishly) a would-be lover, but he never actually expected…

“What happened, Rolan?” she asked, her thumb brushing featherlight against his cheek.

Gods, he would give anything to banish that concerned look away and see her smile instead. If this weren’t the middle of his work day, if there weren’t animated armors and Lorroakan illusions watching him at every hour, he’d abandon this counter now and follow her anywhere. But that simply wasn’t an option, and he didn’t feel worthy of it just yet.

Still…

He reached up and took her hand, gently pulling it away from his face. Normally he would let it go, try to push her away, but today…for now…he could take a small risk.

He kept hold of her hand as he lowered their hands to rest on the counter. “Nothing for you to worry about,” he said quietly. 

He felt his chest tighten as she shifted her hold on him, turning her hand so that she could hold his more comfortably. She didn’t look convinced, but she seemed willing to let the matter rest, at least for now. More than that, she seemed willing to linger.

He offered her a slightly crooked smile and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Enough about me,” he said. “I want to hear what you’ve been up to. Tell me everything, and leave nothing out. It’s not every day the savior of the world comes walking into our humble shop.”

She rolled her eyes at his teasing, but settled against the counter, still holding his hand, and began to chat. He smiled to himself as he listened to her recount the latest adventures since they’d last seen one another, content to listen to her voice. The whole time, she never let go of him and she didn’t seem to mind when he began to rub absent-minded circles into her skin with his thumb.

It all felt so natural and easy. Comfortable. Normal. Unlike so much else these days. There was chaos, there was bitterness, there was frustration…and there was Fawn, who felt like a breath of fresh air and the crackling of new energy all in one.

Funny how things change.

If he weren’t physically holding her hand, he might have convinced himself she was just an illusion, something his bored and tired mind had conjured just to get him through another monotonous day. But no, she was here. She was here, and she didn’t look any the worse for wear, and she made the entire room glow with her mere presence.

And she was beautiful.

Maybe one day he would actually tell her that. Out loud, outside of his daydreams.

But not today. He bit his tongue gently on the un-injured side and contented himself with simply listening and holding her hand. Ten minutes ago, he was certain he’d never see her again. Now, it was enough to know she was in the same city as him, adventuring and getting into trouble mere blocks from where he manned this dismal little counter. 

The world looked a little brighter now that she had walked into his shop. He could work with that.

[myfandomincolor]

People love to talk about the Fenris to Astarion pipeline, but the road took me right from broody elf to grumpy wizard

[kimberbohwrites]

✨Happy One Year Anniversary BG3! I didn’t think I’d ever mark the year release of a game but it’s not dramatic to say this game changed my life for the better. I’m not going to lie, I was a fairly lonely nearly-middle aged woman until my husband begged me to try this game. And now?

💖I conquered a 20 year old phobia of having my work read by others (and it turns out I’m not half bad!)

💖I found a way to work out a lot of my own trauma through writing, while portraying mental health themes in romantasy writing.

💖I have made what I sincerely hope to be long-lasting friends with some really cool people

💖I’ve laugh, cried, enjoyed art and just allowed my inner child to heal through reconnecting with just being a nerd.

💖And I’ve grown by constantly seeking out and amplifying the works of the thousands of others in this fandom, whose talent far surpasses mine.

Thank you. ✨