#zev come home

[runningwolf62]

The real reason my Warden couldn't have been in Inquisition is he'd attempt to adopt my Inquisitor.

[notebooks-and-laptops]

God I think sten in the fade might be the most heartbreaking one. Yes, Morrigan straight up can't believe her mother would ever care for her, yes Alistair just wants a family, yes Zev is out there literally getting tortured because that's familiar to him but there's something so subtle about Stens moment that I just love bringing him along.

Because he's...he knows. In a way. He knows exactly what's going on. He's not fooled into thinking this is real like Alistair or Wynne or Leliana or Zev. But equally he's not arguing his way out like Morrigan. When you talk to him he knows who you are, and why you're there, wants to make room for you at the fire.

Sten is... reminiscing. He's with these men who he knew who died and whose death signalled the end of his last true connection with home (both because of their deaths and because of the loss of his sword). He even says that the fade is no different from being in Orlais or Ferelden - none of it is home. It's such a stark contrast to Stens usual no nonsense tone and it really cuts to the heart of him and what makes him such a compelling character.

To get him to come with you, you remind him that he made an oath to you or other soldier things. Sten needs that order to be pulled from his memory here.

And it's just...it's heartbreaking. He misses home. He feels he can't go back. He doesn't know what the point is anymore. And it is the warden that quite literally gives him order and the ability to go back after his sword so he can head home. It's connection to people - you the protagonist specifically - that helps Sten move past his grief. And in that way, Sten mirrors Alistair and Oghren but that's a whole other post about themes of loss and grief and moving forward in origins ill make some other time.

(I also like it because it shows that Stens companions were joking about and very un-Sten like. I think there's this idea that flies about that before Bull was introduced, the Qunari were all very serious and stoic people and bull was a retcon in that regard. But we see Stens friends laughing about the lack of good food in Ferelden and making jokes)

[forgeofthenine]

Hello! Might I request a little spicy spice about inviting Zevlor to spend the night with you at the camp party? (Goddamn Larian, why fill our camp with all these hot tieflings and only allow us to bang the companions)

Of course you can Anon! I was going to do a full fic but it wasn't quite working how I wanted so this is kind of a mix between headcanons and fic? Either way, I hope you enjoy :)

NSFW ahead, gender neutral reader and no warnings needed

Seducing Zevlor at the tiefling party

Zevlor would definitely be a bit of a wallflower for the party

He's hanging back watching everyone enjoy themselves while nursing a drink

It's obvious to him how everyone is near throwing themselves at you, so imagine his surprise when you come up to him batting your eyelashes and holding his bicep

You're either tipsy or just drunk off the atmosphere around you, and Zevlor can't tell if you're actually coming onto him

Everyone else can see your infatuation from a mile away, however

Once you do manage to lead him away from the group it's all too easy to pull him into a kiss by his collar

He freezes for a moment before kissing back

When he does kiss back, his hands finding a firm grasp on your hips, it's magical

After this it's shockingly easy to get Zevlor into your bed

Just give him a little reassurance that he's not too old for you, that he is the one you want

It's not surprising that Zevlor absolutely wants to take things slow

You both could die any day, he wants to enjoy this night with you to it's absolute fullest

"The bed isn't too uncomfortable for you, I hope?" He asks, eyes showing concern as hands help you lay back on the fur lined mattress.

"Zev, relax, it's fine." You grin, helping pull down his button up shirt, revealing lean muscles that shift with the tieflings every move. A small sigh leaves Zevlor, helping you kick off your pants, sitting back on his heels his eyes roam your scantily clad body.

Your hand meets the back of his neck, pulling him down till your lips barely brush. "Now, can we get to the main event?" You breathe out, feeling his fingers play with the waistband of your underwear.

"I could never deny you."

I feel like Zevlor wouldn't pull out too many kinks if it's your first night sleeping together

He'd definitely lavish attention on you, there's no way you will leave the tent without being thoroughly kissed all over

Zevlor would also insist on going down on you, his head finding its home between your legs

Pro tip, tug on his horns

The way he moans will just vibrate through you, it's glorious

Once he feels you're both thoroughly prepared and already quite satisfied is when he'll actually have sex with you

The way he slides in is agonizingly slow, a low moan leaving you as every bump and ridge slips into you. Zevlors lips are on your shoulder, body draped over yours as he carefully thrusts right into the hilt, his hips meeting yours. Sharp teeth brush over your skin as the tiefling lets out his own sigh, pausing at the way you clench around him.

"Oh, hells. I won't last if you stay like this..." Zevlor murmurs against you, hands smoothing over your skin to relax you. Every time his body shifts, so does his cock inside you. Adjusting to the way he stretches you is a task in itself, the burn slowly fading with each passing moment.

"Please, fuck me Zevlor-" Your words are cut off with another loud moan as his hips move, the hellrider easily finding a pace for himself as he thrusts into you.

Let's be real, this tiefling is so pent up

Zevlor will happily fuck you all night once you get him going, with short breaks in between

Like any true gentleman he'll ask where you'd like him to cum though his preference would definitely be inside

Once he's fucked your brains out Zevlor will pull you to lay on top of him, this man is clingy after sex

You'll feel a tail wrapped around your thigh and the deep rumbling purr from his chest, don't worry about getting cold either seeing as tieflings run hot

Everything you had tonight may be gone tomorrow, but everything feels okay when you fall asleep in Zevlors arms

[dark-and-kawaii]

I must say, as a person who absolutely hates the idea of pregnancy irl, and also dislikes it as a fictional trope the vast majority of the time (no shade to those who like it obvi), it's no small feat that you have managed to make me horny over dad Zevlor. Congratulations are in order 👏❤.

Anyway, I've recently picked up crocheting again, and I couldn't help but think about an unsuspecting zev coming home after a long day and finding his wife making the cutest, tiniest baby clothes.

Give that man a whole tissue box, bc damn he'd sob hard

I feel this so hard, hahaha I realllllly don’t like the idea of getting pregnant irl… maybe if I could just magically pop out the baby like in the Sims hahaha!!! And don’t worry, no shade!!! Everyone has their preferences ♡ ♡ ♡ BUT OMG AHHHH!!!! I’m soooooooo ecstatic that it was MWAH who converted you!!! Mwahaha (˵ •̀ᴗ•́˵)و!!! I feel accomplished knowing this and HELL YEAH DAD ZEVLOR!!!

Like this is beyond cute~~~ I’m a fiend for this and am eating it up like the pasta I just ate!!! Thank yoooou~ ♡ This is just amazing and I love that you slid in my asks ♡ ♡ ♡

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆ — Imagine:

As Zevlor entered the room he shared with you, he notices how you sit quietly, humming a gentle tune while your hands worked deftly on the tiniest pair of pants for your soon to arrive chile. Quietly, he shuts the door and moves closer, his heart swelling with emotion, his mind racing with images of his future- holding yours and his son or daughter, and he could almost hear the sweet sound of their laughter.

Kneeling beside you, he asks what it was you were creating. With a tender smile, you show him the little pants, turning them around to reveal the delicate horn patterns on each pocket.

Zevlor’s eyes glistened with tears, his smile radiating warmth and love. He was so overwhelmed by how deeply he loved you, how he loved the very child he sowed within you, and how incredibly fortunate he felt.

Resting his head carefully against the swell of your stomach, his tears caressed where his child grew inside you, “Thank you, my light,” he murmured, his voice filled with gratitude ♡ ♡

[faerunsbest]

Okay I have stumbled upon the two people living together trope but they are not in a romantic relationship but there is TENSION! And I read one with Zevlor and now I thirst for more!!!

Zevlor would be the perfect housemate to fall in love with. And I know for a fact he would keep that place so clean ❤️

Aww I can picture it!

Tav has a place in the gate and the open hand is overfull, so he overs to leave the temple and make room for more people. And tav happens to be there when he does.

"Oh I've got a little extra space. You can stay with me! "

Tav ignores the way he blusters about not wanting to be a burden. They drag him along to the less showy parts of town where the unlock an apadoor before elbowing it open

"Sorry it's a little sticky and I haven't had a chance to fix it."

The apartment is no more than four separate space, the wood floor damaged from furniture being dragged about. Shabby but warm, he looked around to see wads of paper crammed into cracks in the walls. The fireplace grubby from constant use. The loving room is its kitchen, off to the side is a small room with a washing tub and toilet. Oh good they have plumbing. Another door leads to a sparce room with a near nude bed. Off to the other side was a very small space like an office. Inside the space was a thin sofa with a guest. A very large brown cat sunning in the spaces window.

"One rule here, we do what mama tells us to!"

Tav thumbs over to the cat who looks at them for a moment.

The following day, tav almost tumbled into the place, they looked at the door confused. Zevlor fixed it.

Zevlor stands by the fireplace dusting off his hands on a rag.

" I wasn't able to find work yet, so I thought I'd do a few repairs."

"Oh wow, did you clean the fireplace??"

"Yes it should work much better now."

"You mean I can cook in there again?!"

"I hope it's helpful."

The following day, tav comes home happy as a lark when the door opens without a shove. When they look zevlor is sitting on a polished floor in front if the rumbling fireplace, looking a bit miffed.

"No luck today either huh?"

"Afraid not. I will not be a burden-"

"Don't worry about it besides I got us something!"

Tav raises a market bag of grocery and a new pot.

Another day and winter is beginning to creep in slowly. Zevlor searches all over town, so many people are still rebuilding and can't afford to hire new people. All the same he goes about doing whatever odd jobs he can find before coming back and fixing up something in the apartment. Today, however, when he comes home, he finds a box on his little sofa bed.

When he opens it up, it's new boots and a scarf. He can't help the big smile as he trues them on, especially please with the scarf. A silly thing he doesn't need at all, but a sweet gift.

A little more passes, and zev finds himself again sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace with tav laughing about nothing really. They sit a little closer these days, while soup bubbles in the fireplace. He blinks in surprise when he feels tav lay their head on his shoulder.

[tavshortfortavern]

Tiefling NPcs react to you calling them nicknames

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

Zevlor: Handsome or Darling. Classic nicknames. Zev too when your feeling casual. He gets flustered hearing you use them and will return in kind calling you dear or love. Add in some physical affection and henwould feel all mushy inside. Wouldn't really believe he deserved the handsome title considering his appearance but your insistence and sincerity soothed that insecurity. There was something so domestic about it. Daydreams of spending your days in a nice cottage, having food prepared when you come home.

Dammon: Sunshine or my favorite black smith. Back before you got together you only called him the latter. He was always flattered when you called him that. You never went to anyone else for comissions or repairs. He couldn't say you weren't one of his favourite customers. When you did start dating he was pleasantly surprised to be called sunshine. Really, you were already referring to him as such in your head. He was a positive force to you and being around him felt like being in a nice summer's day. His eyes got soft and cheeks flush when he heard you say that.

Rolan: Spitefire or Firecracker. We've all seen his temper. No one embodies the nickname more than him. Acted like a real firecracker when he heard your call him that. Lecturing you that his proper title was Archwizard. Of course the order went ignored. It was so obvious the way he turned red whenever you used that nickname. But it wasn't a bad thing, you argued. No one can look away from a firecracker, mesmerized by its bright lights. Firecrackers never go unheard or not be admired for its sparks. That got him speechless. You admired the shocked, emberassed look on his face before he turned away in a huff and leaving with a half baked excuse.

[ploompkin]

@faerunsbest As promised, my headcanons for Tilses and Zevlor:

Tilses is one of those people who has always known what she wants to be when she grows up. She joins the Hellrider equivalent of the cadets as soon as she’s of age (I think that would be 16, but maybe it would even be younger, like 14?) and is the most hardworking out of all her peers. Like I imagine young Zevlor was, she has a strong sense of justice and a lot of faith that if she puts in the work and is ‘good enough’, then she’ll be able to help bring a good name to her tiefling people.

She’s a strong warrior but lacks refinement in her skill (obviously, she’s only young), and yet graduated from cadets top of her class. For that reason I think she’d immediately start working relatively close to Zevlor, maybe placed in one of his elite soldier’s care as a sort of apprentice kind of thing- so she quickly gets access to the inner circle of the Hellriders. The inner circle however, is full of older soldiers who grew up together, and is a far cry from the younger soldiers that she had just been training with a few months prior. She feels totally out of place and a little overwhelmed, and while her mentor tries to be kind to her… yeah.

That’s where our dear commander comes in! He immediately takes an interest in Tilly, because he sees his younger self in her and both admires that, and wants to protect the hope and ideals he knows she has. So. When he sees her sitting alone one evening, he just… wanders over and comes to sit with her. She’s very surprised, and kind of intimidated- because this is the commander of the Hellriders for Gods sake- the man whom she and the other cadets looked up to while they trained. (HC that at this point Zevlor has been a commander for near a decade). But then they just talk, and the conversation flows. She feels comfortable with him! For the first time, she starts to feel like a proper Hellrider.

The next time the inner circle are hanging out, she actually comes to sit with them— and beats them all at cards. (Whether or not they let her win is up for debate). Zevlor is so proud (affectionate dad!)

I think Zevlor probably, like many of the other Hellriders, only took temporary lovers and didn’t settle down. Being a Hellrider is for life, is the phrase commonly tossed around, which makes me think soldiers usually completely commit to their careers and have little time for anything else. Now he’s older though, he’s starting to wish he had a family of his own… so he comes to feel paternally towards Tilly very quickly because of that. Of course, she’s not his kid and he knows that, she’s his subordinate soldier and he forces himself to remember that and not soften his orders- but when they’re not on duty he’s noticeably sweeter with her than the others.

Then Avernus happens. The elite soldier originally responsible for overseeing Tilses as a new soldier is killed, leaving her floundering a bit— and so (unofficially) Zevlor takes over that role as her mentor. Because they’re in constant danger in the hells Tilly and another of the elites also take up the role as Zevlor’s body guards while he’s frantically trying to manage their forces in the face of more devils and imps than he ever thought any of them would ever face in their entire lifetimes. Their friendship deepens as a result, and they frequently fight by one another’s side, so they’re very in sync as well. Tilses very rapidly improves as a soldier because of all the combat experience, and very soon instead of just ‘the newbie’ she’s one of Zev’s most reliable swords.

Elturel eventually returns from Avernus, and… well, you know what happens. I feel like although Zevlor presents himself as resigned about it, I think he’s a lot more angry about getting exiled from his home city and the Hellriders than he lets on. Who wouldn’t be?! It’s just that he’s keeping it together for his fellow tiefling exiles, soldier and civilian alike. But the absolute disdain in his voice when he says to Tilses, “just Zevlor, Tilly. We’re civilians now, remember?” his voice was SO sour. That makes me think she’s one of the few people who get to see his true emotions (in moderation, anyway- he’s still very reserved even with friends- and he’s especially conscientious that she’s young and shouldn’t be shouldering the burdens of an older man). The way he actually filed his name and rank off his sword as well. He must have been both seething and upset as well as ashamed. What worse fate for a dedicated Hellrider, one whom has sworn to serve for life, to be kicked out?

As I put in a previous post, I think Tilses is greatly upset for herself, but even more so for Zevlor. He’s just this amazing person in her eyes, and he’s done so much for his people. How could this happen to him? She really struggles to accept it- refuses to even try at first, because it’s so wrong. It’s only when Zevlor himself snaps and tells her to stop calling him commander that the reality sinks in. And it’s awful.

Jumping ahead a bit, Tilly is both the person most absolutely heartbroken over Zevlor’s ‘betrayal’, and also the first one who decides there must have been more to it than met the eye. She’d track him down in Baldurs Gate (she survives, she definitely survives, nothing bad happened to her la la la can’t hear you) if he didn’t show, and before he can say a word she gives him the most crushing hug and tells him how much she missed him while trying not to cry. Zevlor does cry and breaks down in apologies, but she’s having none of it. She has a similar heart to him, so can guess the shame and grief he must be feeling. She reassures him, it wasn’t his fault, he’s still worthy, and he always will be in her eyes (maybe followed up with a little— platonic, very platonic— kiss on the cheek as well).

Does she fight in the final fight against the Brain…? Hmmmm I’m not sure. I can see Zevlor ordering her to stay behind because he’s terrified of losing her, but I doubt she’d take that lying down. Yeah, nah, if Zevlor is called into the battle, my girl is joining in that fight whether he gives his approval or not.

Because I like happy endings, they both survive the fight and after… they move in together. Why not? Whatever remaining blood family they had they probably lost in Avernus or along the road, and they’re both hurting and understand each other’s wounds. Zevlor would get a cottage on the outskirts of the city I think, away from the crowds, but close enough for Tilly to walk in for her job in the City Watch. He retires, and spends his time growing their own food and reading and just in general trying to process everything that’s happened. They live relatively simply, so the money from Tilses’ job is plenty to support them.

Tav probably visits them both quite frequently, which is when a romance sparks if you’re into that. Tilly would tease Zevlor about it constantly, but she’d be such a good wingwoman lol. She’s not letting the matter rest either until he confesses- or Tav beats him to it- and she’d be so proud when he does.

[ghostwise]

Laaate WIP Wednesday tag from @lavampira, thank you my friend!! It's a busy time of year and I've been playing Veilguard, which, more than anything, makes me miss DAO and DA2. I'll tag @ruushes @thedragonagelesbian @isayashai @creaking-skull @inquisimer if y'all are up for it :) <3 (700 words, cw: death, mentions of past abuse)

She flings her husband’s clothes to the floor, pulling off the jeweled buttons and gold brooches. She clears the bedside table, too, with a sweep of her arm, and checks the inlays; opal and dragon bone. Valuable. With the ragged edges of her nails, she pries them off, and throws them into the bag, too. She kicks the dresser, pulls the drawers out haphazardly. Things go flying, and she only realizes what a frenzy she’s worked herself into when Zevran pouts from the bed, having been struck by a rogue slipper.

“Ow,” he says, “that hurt.”

Naishe whirls around and gazes at him. Candlelight dimly reflects off his golden hair and brown skin. He is reclining upon one of the velvet cushions beside her husband—her late husband, that is, as of, oh, fifteen minutes ago. Naishe’s face pulls into a broad grin, and she laughs, ecstatic.

She’s never been worth a damn thing in this world, not to her mother, not to Luis, and not to herself. But here is a man who thinks her worth killing for.

“What’s the rush, beautiful?” he asks with a lazy stretch.

“I hated him,” she says, hot and fast. “I hate him, I’ll always hate him—and as much as I’d love to come over there and thank you properly, over and over again—”

Zevran laughs, low and husky, and Naishe is at his side in an instant. She grips his hand. It’s steady, and strong, and only now she realizes her hands are shaking.

“… I’ve never wanted to run more than I do right now,” she tells him. “I want to run and never stop running. I never want to be in a room like this again. Fucking torture chamber. Never!”

“Then run,” Zevran whispers. He nods at her, urgently, his brown eyes gazing into hers. “I cannot; my cage is of a different sort. But you, run!”

They kiss, impassioned. His words stir something up in her chest, something that aches like when she first was sent away from home, and she breaks away with a smile.

“Where do I go?”

“Leave the city,” Zevran tells her. “Take these with you.” He pulls his daggers from his belt and hands them to her.

“Zev.”

“You know how to use them.”

“Thanks to you,” she says, clutching the gifts. “Won’t you come with me?”

“I cannot my dear,” he tells her. “But you can. That is why I did this, don’t you see?”

She does. She feels tears prickling at her eyes—not for herself, but for Zevran. He understands her. They’ve both been discounted by society, treated as currency, as tools. She won’t waste his efforts, but she wishes desperately he could come with her.

“I’ll ask about you, if ever I am in Antiva City.”

“I am… a dangerous man to ask after.”

Zevran brushes her hair from her face. The moment of their goodbye is drawing upon them, and both of them feel it at the same time: a monumental change in their lives, something that will reverberate for better or worse. They share a final kiss.

“I promise, I promise you, we will see each other again.”

“Be well, Zevran Arainai.”

“And you. Run, Naishe. Run.”

-

Leaving everything behind is not easy, but it is necessary.

She realizes loyalty cannot be bought when the Siren’s Call leaves her at a port in Llomerryn.

Alone. For the first time in her life, well and truly alone. And better for it, too. Good riddance to the lot of them.

Now she has nothing except the daggers Zevran Arainai gave her. These she keeps close at all times, and she practices with them daily, carving out her own personal fighting style, until calluses form over the palms of her hands.

These skills earn her respect and coin. She’s quick, smart, and deadly. She leverages all three into opportunity, and lands on a new ship, where her quicksilver tongue earns her a new name: Isabela.

Years tick by. Disrespect foments resentment, and she kills the first man who pushes her too far. As luck would have it, he is a captain of a ship, and she steps into command like she was born for it.

She takes the Siren’s Call back.

The Queen of the Eastern Seas.

[manicpixie-tieflingboyfriend]

Hi I'm new here 🫣 I really really like your blog.

If you waaanntttedd to? For a prompt? Maybe something like Zevlor waking up from a nightmare and being comforted by his partner. 🥺 I just think it'd be cute.

But only if you want to, I've never actually given a prompt to anyone before idk the proper protocol or manners for this.

WELL FIRST OF ALL THANK YOU SWEET 💕💕 I'm just a weird lil guy being unhinged at all times and being bullied a lot. For whatever reason. 😒😮‍💨 ANYWAY.

protocol is you think of something and you put it in my grubby little hands and I try not to ruin it like this!

It was a rather common occurrence at this point in their relationship, Zevlor jolting awake in the middle of the night, drenched in a cold sweat. No small feat for a tiefling most assuredly. Tonight was just like the others, but it was... more intense.

It seems the nightmares had been a little too close to home this time.

Not some vague "what if" regarding the long since defeated Absolute, not some deep-seated regret based on his broken oath or the people he lost to get here, to this peace and tranquility he would have once thought he'd never deserved.

No, this nightmare...

This was about his partner, the beautiful, most perfect person in his life, laying right next to him. They were curled into his side when he had jolted awake, and once he sat up, panting, trembling from the horrific scene his mind had conjured up, they sat up with him.

Their voice was thick with sleep, grumbly but far from upset, their arms around Zevlor in an instant. "Zev...? What is it?"

Zevlor shudders as the residual dredges of the nightmare melt away with his partner's embrace, his hands grasping at their arms, desperate to ensure that they're real. That they're here with him. He doesn't answer, he doesn't want to relive that nightmare.

That worst case scenario where his beloved is gone. Forever. And he was the cause.

Another shuddering breath leaves Zevlor, and his partner's arms tighten around him, slowly, steadily. One of their hands rubbing at his arm, the other running through his hair, along his horns, everywhere they can find purchase. Anywhere they can touch, to make Zevlor certain that they're here.

They're still here. Still alive. Still by his side.

Neither of them speak, but Zevlor's breathing starts to slow. His heart starts to calm, his mind clear with his partner's gentle touches. Eventually he slumps down a little, relaxing just a touch, leaning into his partner's arms.

The world starts to come back into focus as their hands turn Zevlor's face toward them, leaning in to shower the tiefling in tender kisses. Along his cheek bones, his jaw, even on his nose. His chin, forehead, gods they even kiss his ears, sending Zevlor into a quiet fit of laughter, as he wraps his arms around his partner as well.

Their laughter follows his own as they settle back onto the bed again, wrapped in each other's arms. Zevlor traces a single clawed finger along the side of their face, their smile as radiant as the sun that still has a few hours to rise.

"I'm so glad you're still here, my love," he whispers, voice thick with tears he hadn't needed to shed, because of them.

"Always, and forever, my love." His partner smiles, leaning their head against Zevlor's chest, just to listen to his heartbeat finally slow, lulling back to sleep.

"Forever..." He repeats. "I could ask for nothing more."

[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.

[bitchkay]

I refuse to believe Zev's mom isn't a boss bitch. If Zev's this chill with both his brothers, I'd like to think his mom had a hand in fostering those relationships. In a jp event (I forget which one) Aquia says he and Zev really get along, and Guy isn't all that bothered by Zev's antics, so I headcanon Queen Toria is cool with her stepsons being friends (unlike another that we know of *coughsinRahmAvari*)

Real asf

In my head Toria is like some hot blonde chick and she has like 3 lobe piercings, shes really nice and chill for the most part but like kinda intimidating

She has such a Queen™️ kind of air about her but is actually really nice

Kinda like Rahm when we first meet her but shes just always like that, just really nice seems really sweet and loves her son to boot

I think Queen Toria isnt like super strict on alot of things because she knows what it's like to be young but also still upholds certain standards with Zev because he is a prince even if hes the third prince, he still has things to do, appearances to hold and duties to finish, but all the same time I think Zev her little man

Like Zev be up and down flirting with woman, sweet talking girls, going on leisure pursuits, like he was probably haunching before either one of his older brothers-- and even then he'll come home and look for his momma

I also think Queen Toria treats Aquia like her son as well, Aquia is close with his mother despite how she be acting because shes one of the only ones that's believed in him and wanted him to achieve greatness even if it was for selfish reasons, but I think Toria after Rahm gets locked up, would hold a sort of supportive position with him especially since him and Zev are close, the title "step" in front of step son means nothing to her, hes still a son to her

Aquia wanted to do something and Rahm said no, hes asking Miss Tori😋😋

I also feel like Guy dosen't mind Zevs antics too much cus hes just a little brother being a little brother, and Zevs used to the Guy acts so he just doesn't give up😭

"Guys do you wanna hang out with me today"

"No."

"Really, are you sure, we can get coffee, I know you like coffee"

"I have things to do today."

"Can I come with you"

Like he's so annoying and Guy just let's it happen cus its Zev he always does this😭😭

I feel like Guy secretly really loves Aquia and Zev like he brushes them off and ignores them alot but if either one of them was in trouble hes there, hes just tsundere-ing🙄

I think Toria love her step sons so much like you would not guess that she did not birth them

And a big thing is that Guys accepts her, like Guys does not like everyone but he thinks that she good(I also think that Guy was standoffish and mean to her at first because he doesn't want her to replace his mom, he knows why Rahm is here but Toria was mad nice for some reason oh hell nah she wants to be my mother)

I feel like Queen Toria is so mother like I feel like she slays so hard

If we ever get a Toria face reveal I just know she'd serve so much cunt like you hear the name Queen Toria and you just know a bad bitch is about to walk through the door

[sotc]

i can't stop thinking about papa cyrion fretting over his bbgirl milana after she takes care of the unrest at the alienage🥺 cyrion telling her to hush if she tries to leave too soon, telling her sit down and eat and extending the invitation to serve a warm meal for her companions. it's the first thing on his mind after being kept prisoner and all the months she's been gone. all that wondering, praying, hoping for his daughter to be okay, to come back, if she was even alive.

soris and shianni lending a hand to cook and get to know the companions she's been traveling with. they share silly stories of milana growing up to tease her in front of her new friends, laughter is in the air. alistair being so, so polite at a table he's just a little too big for. zevran at the table watching his warden closely with a secret, amused smile (meeting the family now are we?) morrigan declining the offer but keeping her distance by the fire to watch and listen from afar. milana could almost feel awkward but the moment she tastes her favorite broth she starts bawling at the table i am so serious LOL😭 she missed her family sm!!!

but i also just can't help but think about how the companions must feel seeing the warden have a family and home to miss and they.. kinda didn't, did they? alistair wanted family so bad with his half-sister goldanna, wanted this familial moment sharing homecooked meals and stories so much it's a literal fantasy he found comfort in when trapped in the fade! zev spent his whole life forced to bury sentiments like family, belonging and love and i have to wonder if he felt like he was on the outside looking in seeing milana with her family, even for just a moment of something he could've had-- could have? and god MORRIGAN with all the nuances and complexities of a relationship she had with her own mother and the resentment she harbored growing up under her like ough. ):

maybe just maybe it's the first time they catch a glimpse to what having a real home and family looks like.

[maevesheart]

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪ masochistic desires

series masterlist

note: quick intro before we dive in :) this y/n is my favorite i’ve written i think ;)

summary: your and harry’s meeting is anything short of romantic.

WC: 1.2k

TW: harry’s kind of a perv lol

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

the brown trousers you were wearing became increasingly uncomfortable as you perched on the bar stool, waiting for the guy from your journalistic research class.

you couldn’t believe his guts. you had been waiting almost 15 minutes now.

the bartender gave you a sad smile as he passed, offering you a drink.

“want anything?” he asks. you don’t fail to notice his eyes flick down to your cleavage peaking out of your white cropped tank top.

“uh, a gin and tonic is fine, thanks,” you gave him a tight lipped smile, rolling your eyes as he walked away.

men. their audacity was astounding.

your gin and tonic was soon in your hand, you taking small sips scanning the bar, trying to find the familiar face.

he was no where found, and you were done waiting.

placing a ten on the bar counter, you threw back on your worn black leather jacket, and threw the strap of your brown mini gucci blondie over your shoulder.

unbeknownst to you, the green eyes of the royal pain in the ass, prince harry, watched as you left the bar, a light smirk playing at his lips.

his table was filled with his band members and closest friends - well, only friends - zev, nash, leo, and lennon. they were hidden in the dark of the back corner of the bar.

harry stood up abruptly, nash’s eyes following as he strutted through the bar to follow you.

“where’s he going this time?” nash wondered aloud, eyes training back down to the coke lennon was lining up on the table.

“don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” zev teased, earning a chuckle from leo and a shove from nash.

“chill it! i’m tryna line these perfectly!” lennon barked, the three others rolling their eyes at his usual uptight-ness.

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

you were leaned against the cold outside wall of the bar, waiting for your uber.

you were tapping the toe of your black saint laurent boots on the ground, coming to a stop as a dark brooding shadow appeared before you.

“too late now, charlie,” you quipped, pissed that he was only now showing up.

“don’t know a charlie. but you can call me that if you’d like,” a smug voice sounds out, and you watch with narrowed eyes as an attractive man with green eyes and dark hair steps out into the dim light.

a smirk is playing on his lips, a cigarette hanging between them.

“can i help you?” you ask, just wanting to get home. plus, you don’t really appreciate being approached by strangers in the dark.

not used to sass, harry stands stunned, before quickly replying, smug as ever. “you can actually, i’ve got a particular problem down here…”

he grabs your hand, leading it down to his pants. you snatch it away, leaving a nice red mark on his cheek and a loud smack! sound in the quiet street.

his eyes darken.

“you pervert! get away from me!” you shove his chest, but no avail. instead, you squirm out to get closer to the street.

his arms lock in on either side of you, pining you in. you suddenly regret your decision, frozen in between him and the wall.

no one is on the street either.

“don’t ever think about doing that again,” he whispers through gritted teeth.

the only solution to get out of his arms is probably the most violent thing you’ve ever done. you shake your head, you’re not a violent person, but you definitely don’t feel safe right now.

before you can respond, your knee is quick to land in his groin, and he doubles over in pain.

“you… bitch!” he groans out in pain, and you take it as your moment to get a good word in.

“don’t ever speak to me again,” you spit out, spinning on your heel and sprinting as fast as you can in the opposite direction.

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

you finally reached your apartment, slamming the door closed behind you.

you kicked off your boots and threw your leather jacket onto the back of your white sectional couch, and making your way into your kitchen.

you sit down at the island, pulling your macbook to the edge and opening it up, scrolling through your email.

considering it was only 8 pm, you figured you may as well get some stuff done before the first day of your internship with condé nast tomorrow.

quickly scanning daily news, you click on an article titled “royal wild child harry in raft with elder brother roscoe!”

you had never cared much for the british royal family. neither of your parents families were british, and you never bothered to learn the history apart from us history class and government in high school.

you knew a few names, king damien and queen annabella for starters, and then princess gabrielle, who was soon to be queen. you knew there were two other children, but didn’t know their genders or names.

prince harry and his older brother prince roscoe must be the other two, you assumed, scrolling down the article.

the photo at the top of the passage showed a man, he couldn’t have been much older than you, wearing a long black coat with his dark tousled curls over his face, his arms out, shoving a man who look just like him, just a bit taller and thinner.

the photo was taken from afar and blurry, but you could tell both men were dressed in expensive clothing and most likely in some sort of argument.

continuing to scroll, a portrait of the royal family sat in the middle of your screen.

you read the caption as you examined the photo, queen annabella delicately perched on the throne in the middle, king damien and his elaborate crown on her right, crown princess gabrielle sits at her feet, her hands laying in her mother’s lap.

behind, prince roscoe wears a smug smirk on his lips, a crown sitting atop his buzzed hair.

you freeze as your eyes land on prince harry, the familiar green eyes you had encountered that exact night.

refusing to believe it, you pulled up a new tab and searched his name.

after pressing enter, images of the same man you kneed in the groin popped up all over your screen.

he was undeniably attractive, but much too pompous and perverted for your taste.

your hand flew to your mouth and you internally cursed yourself.

you had assaulted a prince! not just any prince, the fucking prince of the uk!

hopefully he didn’t remember what you looked like. hopefully he was too drunk or high (based off some of the articles u scrolled through — the prince had a rather excessive drug problem) to remember you the next morning.

but with your luck, that was near unlikely.

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

[faerunsbest]

The affair please, for WIP tag. 🙏

OMG YOU DONT KNOW HOW EXCITED I AM ABOUT THIS ONE!

you ever been so excite dto do something youre scared to get started? cause i have the doc sitting there but just JDGHFVJADHSGFAJVSDH!?

but anyway here the vibe i got

the refugees forgive zevlor because someone starts raggin on him but rolans just ''you know he was enthralled right?" so weirdly rolan is the 1stone to actually formally forgive him. okay? okay! now we can have all the tieflings available to zev

anyway so zevlor works at the open hand like in 90 percent of my fics with him and he happens to notice they have a frequent visitor. a charming woman whose always there either by herself or with her small child collecting a food box. he always offers to help her home, so they have time to chat hes aware that shes married but its only friendly chats right?

right!?

the longer he spend with her the more he begins to nice things not adding up, she has a husband but never any food? she has a husband but is always hurt? she has a husband but her children dont seem to call anyone dad or daddy or anything. she has a husband but shes perpetually trying to scrape together rent money.

one day zevlor gets to meet the guy. sees him walking out of the caress, hes immediately furious. when the man walks into a direction the he knows isnt home he decides to follow him. the man gambles away all his money and finds another person to bed.

not sure what to do zevlor leaves, he wants to confront him but... is that his place?

he bolts across town to the only people who might have direction for him. he immediately confide sin bex and danis, he isnt sure what his place is in this if he even has but he knows he need to do SOMETHING! so bex advised him to see what she would like to do, so that she isnt caught off guard by whatever may come from confronting him.

he finally goes to tell and on his way over he sees the husband leaving, when he gets to the house he sees the door open and and holding her face. that man slapped her!

as angry as he wants to be he firstly want to help so he does, he runs off and come back with balms to help her and feels horrid but tells her what he saw. she looks at him so pitifully. she already knew, but she seems to believe its just life, wives aren't meant to be happy. not poor wives, like her. shes miserable and down on herself.

he makes a point of trying to make her feel better tell she deserves better. so now he makes a point of visiting and helping her since she really has no one. hes stayed later than intended,

its raining terribly, theres no fire and all but one of her blankets are bundled around her kid. the first moment is poor timing, he turns to look at her as she turns up to him and its a kiss, they pull away but ...she is terribly cold.

he cant help it he leans over to kiss her again, she melts against him and in the morning he knows hes done something awful.

but...

[artistofarchanea]

drawing zev is like coming home

[sforzie]

Keep on Living

Summary: Set in Elturel roughly 15 years before BG3, Zevlor tries to comfort his best friend after the death of his wife.

[soft warnings: mentions of death, bit of gay angst]

-----

Illness had claimed L’vini’s wife swiftly, and from one month to the next she was gone. There was some concern for the health of their children, as they had remained in the house while their mother rapidly wasted away. For now, though, the girls remained as bright eyed and whip-tailed as ever. That was a blessing, Zevlor supposed. It had to be–L’vini was a strong man, a great Hellrider, but even he would have likely succumbed to the grief of losing his whole family in one senseless swoop. As it was, he did not know what he would find upon arriving at the Redblade household.

Though the rest of the street of crowded houses was bustling with the usual afternoon traffic, the area leading up to the Redblade front door was almost eerily quiet. He knocked on the door, but there was no answer.

Be bold, Zevlor, he thought to himself. L’vini needs you to be bold right now.

He retrieved his little loop of keys from within his gear and hastily flipped through them. The Redblade housekey was worn and familiar in his fingers, and he used it to open the front door with no further hesitation.

Zevlor locked the front door again behind him before proceeding into the house. It was quiet and dark, and both sensations weighed heavily in the air. He could not help but feel as though death had indeed claimed the whole household. He shook his head to chase away the unpleasant thought.

“L’vini?” he called from the unlit foyer. “L’vini, are you home?” No response, but he tried again: “L’vini, are you here?”

Still no answer.

Zevlor crept away from the front door, his steps certain despite the lack of light. The kitchen and dining room were empty, and the fireplace was dark and cold. The sitting room, where he had so often sat and listened as L’vini plucked awkwardly at his lute while Mille had sung along, was also vacant. The little bedroom shared by the girls was empty, and fear clenched at Zevlor’s heart as he made his way to the final room of the hall.

Please be alright, he thought. No, that was not it, would not be possible. Please be alive.

“L’vini?” He rapped his knuckles against the door before pushing it open.

The bedroom was as dark as the rest of the house. The curtains were drawn closed and blocked most of the afternoon light, but Zevlor could still see that the bed was empty. Not just empty, but stripped of its dressings, leaving just the bare mattress and pillows behind. He swallowed and pushed the door open, eyes sweeping over the room again.

There, on the side of the bed opposite the door. A figure sat on the floor, hunched over against the wall. 

Tentatively, he called: “Vini?”

The figure’s shoulders jerked, but there was no response.

“I’m sorry. It’s just me.”

There was another moment of shuddering hesitation, but then the figure’s head lifted from its knees. Zevlor was greeted first by the cherished yellow glow of his friend’s eyes.

Then, a soft croak of: “Zev.”

“May I come in?”

“Yeah.”

L’vini did not move as he approached, and truthfully Zevlor wondered how the other tiefling had managed to cram his bulk between the bed and the wall. His knees were pressed against the side of the bare mattress in a way that did not look comfortable.

Perhaps he did not want to be comfortable. Not then.

“I–” He stopped, and was uncertain of what to say. Zevlor swallowed against a tightness in his throat. “That is, um–Sorry, Vini. I let myself in. Hope you don’t mind?”

Nothing.

“I admit, I was worried when I came in. Where are the girls?”

The yellow eyes flicked to the empty bed for a moment before returning to Zevlor’s face. “They–they’re staying with the family of one of Livia’s friends for a few days. The Chillwaters, I think.”

“Ah. That was very kind of them. We’ll have to thank them later, won’t we?”

“Y-yeah.”

He pointed at the rug next to L’vini. “Mind if I sit?”

L’vini shrugged. Zevlor took that as permission enough and carefully deposited himself on the floor. The other man tucked his knees away from the bed and scooted closer to his side. Even through his armor, Zevlor could feel the muscular power of his tail as it curled across his posterior in search of comfort. He flexed his own tail in reassurance.

They sat in mutual silence for several minutes.

Then, softly: “Zevlor, I–M-Mille, she–” L’vini’s voice choked off in a broken sob. He pressed his face into his hands and folded forward once more toward his knees. His keening wail was sharp enough to pierce Zevlor’s heart.

“I know,” he whispered sadly.

The man’s big body shook next to him. Zevlor immediately reached for him, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders and pulling him against his chest.

“Shh, shh. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

L’vini’s sobs were half muffled by his breastplate. “What am I to do now?”

“Keep on living,” Zevlor whispered. “That is all we can do, no matter how much it hurts.” He swallowed again. “And I know it hurts, darling, I know it does. I can feel it too. But, as much as it might seem easier to just give up and let the darkness take you, that would…” He tried to keep selfish thoughts from creeping in over the comforting ones. “Think of your daughters. What would happen to Livia and Lithia were you to die, too?”

The other man sobbed and shuddered against him.

What would I do if you died, too? Zevlor thought.

“It should have been me,” L’vini croaked. “Me and not Mille. The girls need their mother so much more than they could need me.”

“That isn’t true,” Zevlor said quickly. “You are needed just as much as she. And now–now you are needed even more. Your girls need you, L’vini.” Into the man’s black hair, he added: “And so do I.”

Another sob.

Zevlor cleared his throat. “Don’t make me pull rank on you, Vini. I’ll order you to live, if it comes to that.”

“You can’t do that,” came the muffled reply. Zevlor smiled despite the situation.

“I could try. I would try.”

“....thank you, Zev.”

“Mm-hmm.” Zevlor pressed his lips to the tangle of dark hair accessible between the man’s horns. “And I promise, I will be here for you in turn. I will help you, however you need. Anything for you, my dearest friend. I’ll start by making sure your duty shifts are covered for the next week or two. We don’t need the commander coming after you when you’re like this.”

“Thanks.”

“You can thank me by getting up from the floor. Your bed is far better suited to take your tears than the rug.”

“They stripped the linens,” was the soft protest, still strained by tears. “When she–to take her away.”

“Well, I can get the spare set of sheets from the linen closet and remake it for you.”

“You needn’t trouble yourself, Zev.”

“It isn’t trouble if I want to do it.” He squeezed L’vini’s shoulder. “Help me, if you want.”

The widower nodded in muted agreement. It took a few minutes for the men to get up from the floor, as L’vini had been down there so long his muscles had begun to cramp. He sat on the edge of the mattress as Zevlor made his way to the closet and retrieved the other set of sheets and a blanket. Together they redressed the bed.

When it was made, L’vini stood and stared at the undyed sheets and the dark blue blanket. There were still tears tracking down the sides of his nose.

“Will you stay with me?”

Zevlor hesitated, though it was his immediate desire to say yes. “You wish me to?”

“I cannot bear the thought of being alone again right now.” His face pinched for a moment. “Please, Zevlor.”

“Of course. I would not dare abandon you in your time of need.”

“Th-thank you.” L’vini stumbled on the simple words and bowed his head as he choked on a fresh sob. Zevlor flew to his side and took his tear stained cheeks in his hands.

“Shh, shh. I’m still here. I’ll always be here if you need me.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the other man’s chin. “Now, let me get out of my armor and I will join you under the covers.”

With another murmur of thanks, L’vini again sat on the bed. He watched in quivering silence as Zevlor carefully removed his gauntlets and breastplate, and then stepped somewhat awkwardly out of his unfastened boots. He set each piece in a careful pile near the door, until finally he was garbed only in the linen undershirt and trousers he had put on under his armor during the dark hours of that morning.

L’vini’s gray hands reached for him as he returned to the bed. Zevlor let himself be snagged in the man’s claws and dragged into his arms. He could feel the tension in his friend’s body, the tight winding of a sob that he fought to hold in.

“It’s okay, Vini. You can cry.”

“I know, I just–” His body shook and his chest snapped with a sharp inhalation.

“Let’s lie down now.”

L’vini managed to hold himself together until they were both under the blanket. Then his keening broke anew, and he pressed his face so snugly into Zevlor’s shoulder that the man thought his horns might leave a bruise. Despite the force of his friend’s misery, Zevlor did not pull away. He could not–he would not have been able to live with himself were he to even entertain the idea of doing so. Such an idea would be traitorous to his own heart.

The clock ticking on the wall near the bed told him that the afternoon had long given way to the night by the time L’vini stilled in Zevlor’s arms. He felt a pang of relief as the grieving man’s breathing slowed as his body gave way to exhaustion. The front of his shirt was damp and growing cold, but he did not care. He was where he needed to be, wanted to be, was meant to be.

“Sleep, my friend. I will be here when you wake.”