#zurgane

[angele-darliing]

I have been watching Ninja Storm and Lothor’s army is such fun to watch.

[kurehasenba]

五の槍　サーガイン

[sgsy1005]

[powerrangerspolls]

Round 1 Poll 11

Propaganda under the cut

Antonio Propaganda

Fisherman samurai gremlin who is so very gay for Jayden but the only thing that makes Jayden actually lovable <333 blorbo bby heart of gold and actually has rizz. (Best part of PRSS)

Zurgane Propaganda

underappreciated underpaid poor fella

[annanuna-arts]

He needs some new clothes asap

[robotdragonfanatic]

#MEAN TO HIM#prns Mean, but not the meanest thing Lothor ever said to him

I can’t be bothered to hit you. Here is my fist, kindly run into it as fast as you can.

Lothor to Zurgane, Power Rangers Ninja Storm

[agabus]

i can't take any rolan ships seriously because it is so obvious that he's a weird virgin content to die alone with the guilt that he wants to fuck his baby siblings

[augment-techs]

I'm having trouble thinking on ideas so wanted to ask, who would you pair Marah with, could be people outside Ninja Storm(Aside Dustin cause I prefer them as best friends instead..)

I feel like she might like both sides but mainly guys tbh, just don't know who though🤔

....Okay, this is going to sound bad, but when I don't think of Marah with Dustin (romantic or platonic) I have the weird thought of either her or Kapri honing in DIRECTLY on Tori. Kapri is CLEARLY lesbian coded, but Marah strikes me as Pan with someone that is totally her equal.

And incidentally, Tori has probably seen both sisters half naked. Recall the episode when she gave them her clothes.

[reverieblondie]

Finding the Tiefling Bachelors Smut

A/N: I really hope everyone enjoys these hcs. Now these are just my ideas if you have ideas or things you feel like should be added please share! I would love to hear what you think! Huge shout out to @f4iryt3a for letting me use their Cal screenshot! I really appreciate it!

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader

Rolan: Scholarly romantic, who endeavors to seek experience outside his books

Now I love the idea of Rolan accidentally finding smut/erotica. That dork would get embarrassed so quickly, but I know he would be intrigued as the new master of Razamaths tower. Rolan, of course, has made it his mission to quickly understand all the tomes and books found in its grand libraries. Through his cataloging, he discovered that not all the books are necessarily history books or grimoires, but there is a collection of books that are stories. Needing to flip through for a rough summary of the story quickly, it's when he scans the pages and pauses…

Ardent eyes trail over her shivering skin. His lips come over to caress her body, his hands sliding up her belly towards her breast. Rough fingers pinch and twist at her sensitive buds, making her tremble with a breathy moan. All while his lips trail down lower and lower…biting softly, licking down her mound. Her skin is like silk against his fevered tongue, and no doubt the lower he wonders, the sweeter the taste… 

"And to think you thought me intolerable…now look at you, love. Panting like a bitch for my tongue…" 

Rolan slams the book closed, his face burning a bright crimson hue. Now, Rolan isn't dumb; he knows what smut is, but he's never actually read it before…And now, as he keeps looking through the books near this one…it seems Rolan has acquired a bit of a collection. He keeps the collection of his newly acquired smut in a locked drawer on his desk.  

Now, on late nights, while he's been in his office for hours, his back is tense, and his neck and shoulders are filled with knots. He needs to let out all this unreleased tension, so his hand wanders down to that locked drawer to finish reading that last chapter… 

The book has been discarded but not forgotten as it lies on the desk. Rolan's breath is labored as he is hunched over his desk, feverishly fisting his cock, whimpering, and throwing his head back as he lets the images flash in his mind. Doe's eyes stare up at him, his hand with a tight fist of their hair…their tongue rolling and lapping at his ridges, tail rubbing their wet sex as he approaches his high. Fuck How he wished it wasn't his hand but their mouth eagerly sucking him, desperate to take all of him. Rolan's thoughts spur him on more, your nails digging into his tights, your throat so fucking tight, just like he is sure your pussy is. And where would you want in? Your gorgeous face? Your breasts? Or would you swallow?

Rolan's hips buckle faster, his loose hair sticking to the sheen of sweat on his neck as he lets out a groan. He would give you all of it; he would make sure to show you everything he could do, how he would study your body just to get you to cum. How he would remember every moan, every tremble, and the way you feel wrapped around so tightly, your sweet voice trembling all those words he dreams you would say.  That's when he feels that wave rushes over him, his legs tremble, and a whimper "ah, a-h!" leaves his lips. Rolan has to brace his hand on the desk as he cums in fast spurts in his hand. Catching his breath, he looks at his mess… "Zurgan…" 

You and Rolan are friends, but you two still manage to argue most days, and you wouldn't like it any other way. Something about that grumpy attitude just makes your head spin. You want to get under more than just his skin; getting under him would be ideal. It's good that you're patient because you're just waiting for the snap where this teasing finally pays off, and he becomes yours. 

You find yourself waiting for Rolan to ask about some magical artifact you found. Honestly, you could care less; you just want an excuse to talk to him and tease him. Unfortunately, you must wait for him…might as well snoop a little. And what do you find in your snooping? A locked desk drawer, intriguing…with a trick you picked up astarion you get it opened to see books? 

Oh….smut books…with a clear theme, enemies to lovers; it looks like Rolan likes to argue as much as you do…you can work with this. 

Rolan walks through the door, "Okay, what do you have for me?" His voice catches as soon as he sees you sitting on his desk (something he says he hates), watching you read through his smut. 

You flick your eyes up to him, "Rolan… I never took you as a smut reader; I would think the Great Master would be too busy…" Rolan approaches you quickly and tries to snatch the book from you, but you hold it behind yourself, not making it easy for him. 

"Hasn't anyone ever taught you about privacy!" He stands right in front of you now, his flushed cheeks on full display for you. "Why are you embarrassed?" you taunt; Rolan sighs irritatedly as he struggles for the book. His body leaning in so close, his chest brushing against yours, his hips between your spread legs, his face getting so close to yours. Rolans is so desperate to get the book he doesn't realize how close he is. 

"Someone needs to teach you proper decorum!" his voice grumbles. "Is that an offer…" Rolan pauses as he hears you whisper in his ear; he turns to face you, his face already so close your noises brush together. Rolan swallows as his eyes flick from your lips to your eyes. " You're teasing me," he says lowly, dropping the book behind you; you wrap your arms around his neck. "Not unless you want me to." 

Rolan lets out a shaky breath before he places his hands on your hips, guiding you to wrap your legs around him. "Must you always have a comeback every time?" 

"What? I thought you liked my smart mouth. Perfect for arguing." Rolan gently lays your body down against his desk, his body over you, making your breath quicken, and your arousal ruins your panties with want. "How about I put that mouth to better use?" 

You two don't miss a moment to start stripping on one another. "What use? Oh, great master Rolan?" Rolan smiles and leans his now bare chest down, his lips pressing hungrily against yours. Before you can slip in your tongue, he pulls back, relishing in the whine you give from missing his lips. "Like making you moan my name." -Damn that cockiness… 

The next few moments are a blur of sloppy kisses, sharp bites to your neck, and the feeling of his hot tongue tracing over your nipples, making your thighs clamp tighter around his waist in a whine. Rolan eggs you on to say his name as his textured cock runs slowly up and down your wet sex. His body shudders with a groan from the feeling of your slick all for him. 

Rolan slides into you, whimpering along with you as you finally moan his name, "Rolan~" you can't help but arch yourself as he pumps into you deeper and deeper with every thrust. The more he rocks in you, the rougher he gets, as his nails dig into your ass, lifting your lower body off the bed as you keep clamping down on him from the praise he rewards you.

His cock hitting your G Stop, you feel yourself squeezing down on him as his hazy eyes look down at you with a lazy smirk; he's read enough to know what's happening to you, "Oh? About to cum? Come on… Don't hold back, cum for me."

It hits you like a wave making your whole body tremble as your orgasm on his cock, with a scream of his name. Rolan is quick to silence you with a moan of his own as he leaves a rough kiss on your lips. 

Zevlor: An Experienced Romantic

Okay, but can we all imagine Zevlor's shirtless body littered with scars and a nice set of reading glasses low on his nose as he reads some smut/erotica. (Ugh, the dream!) Zevlor, our oldest of the bachelors, has seen his fair share of smut; back in the day, it wasn't odd for some of the guys to hide erotica under their bunks. Though their books were quite different from Zev's. Sadly, those books have been lost to time and the descent. Maybe it was curiosity or the fact that a certain someone has been making his heart race every time they say his name. Now, here he is in the romance section of the library, trying to find one of those old books he used to own. Unfortunately, he only sees books he's not familiar with, so on a whim, he opens a random book…  

If someone walked by, it would tarnish her reputation. A high blood in the gardens this late with a man will surely cause gossip. Especially with her legs spread so wide and her guard positioning his cock so deep in her. Her soft voice moaning so heavenly, only causes his cock to throb more. He's meant to be guarding her…If anyone finds out… She's too important, too perfect to be with a man like him…

"I love you." Her voice, like sweet honey, draws him to hold her tighter, to rut in deeper. He drags his lips across her slick skin, tongue lightly licking the sweat from her neck. Finally, he reaches her ear, "Darling flower…I love you more than you can possibly know…" She clenches and flutters with a whimper, and his hips start to move faster…

Zevlor ended up checking out that book, along with three others the lady behind the counter recommended for him. It turns out they had similar tastes…He made sure to rush home so nobody saw what he had, and Zevlor made sure to put the books in a safe place…in his dresser drawer. 

It's another one of those sleepless nights. His eyes just won't seem to close, and his body won't relax. Maybe he should read a few chapters in his new book…just until his eyes get heavy…

Zevlor can't help but grunt as he feels his balls twitch, begging himself to stroke his girth faster, but Zevlor is patient… he knows what his body can take, so he continues his slow build. Zevlor spits on his other hand to lube his cock, making it slip faster within his hand. His grunts get louder as his hand moves faster, building up to his release. Zevlor shuts his eyes, focusing on the approaching wave of pleasure, his thoughts immediately going to you. Your body is bouncing beautifully as you ride the old hellrider. Gods, he wants to talk you through it and be your guide to your sweet pleasure before he fills you up. How he would dig his hands into the soft plush of your hips to help roll you deeper, cooing softly to you as you begin to babble, your pleasure starting to build to its peak. Gods, how he wants to hear your voice trembling his name… Zevlors hips start to roll at the thought of your snug cunt and your sweet voice chanting how it's too much and how you're coming to cum. The thought of your cum coating him is enough for his cock to throb as he lets his cum shoot against his abdomen. Zevlor sighs coming back down from his high. As he cleans himself up, he wonders, would you clean him up? Perhaps with your tongue? Zevlor shakes his head and chastises himself for the lewd thought. 

You and Zevlor developed a strong bond after everything; you two were supported by each other through getting past everything. Even though Zevlor decided to retire to a small farm on the city's outskirts, you two kept in touch through letters and visits. Part of you wishes that Zevlor would one day invite you to stay at his farm with him permanently…though you are unsure if that is just a silly dream of a lovesick girl… 

During one of your impromptu visits to Zevlors farm, you were helping him wrangle the goats, it turns out Philp the Ram is not a fan of yours… So that is how you found yourself crashed into the water trough after running from a grumpy goat. Zevlor was a slew of apologies as he helped you from the water and told you that you could borrow some clothes from him while yours dries. So, while you were looking for a shirt in his drawers, you found a book? Maybe a peek wouldn't hurt…

Turns out that Zevlor is quite the romantic…maybe it's time you confess…but you need to have a plan…

Zevlor was done setting up the tea, but you still hadn't emerged from his bedroom. Perhaps nothing fits you, right? Or maybe you are embarrassed? Zevlor sits pondering for a few minutes before he decides to walk to the room and check on you. You hear his heavy footsteps before you hear his Knock. "Tav? Are you alright?” With a deep breath, you tell yourself it's now or never. "Zev? I'm fine, but could you ... come in, please?"

Zevlor, never one to deny a request from you, opens the door; when he sees you, he thinks his heart stops at the sight of your bare thighs sitting on his bed in his favorite mauve shirt. Then he sees the book on his dresser, and his face turns an impossibly deeper shade of red. Great, you think he's an old pervert. Zevlor is about to explain when you cut him off, patting the spot beside you on the bed. He watches your face blush, "sit with me?" Zevlor sits beside you. The tension is thick in the air as both your minds reel, Zevlor panicking that you think he's a gross pervert, while you are working the courage to make your next move ... something romantic to impress him.

"About the book I-" It was so quick .... but you forget Zevlor was a paladin, a well-trained one at that. So when you turned to kiss his full lips, Zevlor caught your face between his hands. His eyes widen in surprise as he looks at your squished cheeks and puckered lips. Your face reddened, "I'm sorry, I was trying to be romantic... I should have asked to kiss you.” You manage to tremble out through your squeezed lips ...His eyebrows furrow and a slight laugh leaves him “you... Want to kiss me?” He lets go of your head, and it's your turn to laugh. “That and more... if you're willing?" 

Zevlar was definitely willing, willing to run his hands over your soft body, while you do the same to his hardened one, tracing his scars with tender kisses as you sang sweet praises into his crimson skin. His Kisses were so soft as your lips pressed together, slowly building up your hunger for more.

It could have been minutes, hours, hells, even days as you two explored each other's bodies. "Slow ... ride it slow ..." his deep voice whispers in your ear as you slowly roll your hips ."Beautiful ... look at you ...” His lips return to kissing a bruise to your neck as you look into the mirror. Your legs spread wide over his thighs, one of his hands on your hip as the other is wrapped around your waist, holding your front as steady as possible as he thrust So slowly into your drooling cunt. You can see your arousal dripping down his ridged cock as he moves it through your snug cunt, stretched so taut for him. Your hands are holding onto Zevlor for dear life as he molds your insides to his shape.

Zevlors pace steadily builds as your insides start to clench on him tighter, and your cooing gets higher pitched. He smiles and meets your eyes in the reflection as he slips his hot fingers to your twitching clit, rolling over it in quick circles So desperate to watch his lovely Tav squirt all over his girth again.

What could be more romantic than watching the one you care for come undone on you?

Dammon: A lover of erotica through and through

It is canon that Dammon likes smut, which inspired this whole thing. Damon isn't one to shout out from the rooftops what he enjoys reading, but he isn't shy about it, either. He enjoys reading smut/erotica, and he isn't going to be embarrassed about that. He finds that his favorite works are Bondage and Corruption Kink-based. Sure, the stories are undeniably hot, but the trust, the communication shared between two people engaging in that level of intimacy he's utterly addicted to…and his library will only grow. Still, he always returns to his rarer favorites…

His hand is cold compared to the burning flesh of her ass. She leans into the touch, losing her grip, but that only earns her a swat that furthers the rosy flesh to a fiery blush…" keep holding your ankles.." his voice is stern, and she wishes he would talk to her for hours like this, She grabs her ankles tighter mumbling a soft apology. He smiles and kisses down her spine in approval, "Good girl. Now, what's your safe word?" She feels his hand sliding across her ass, the tightening in her gut coiling further. "L-lavender…" she can't help but tremble, feeling his hand spread her blushing cheeks. "When do we say that word?" she's fully spread to him now, feeling dizzy in anticipation. "If-if I'm feeling overwhelmed, hurt, or just ready to stop." 

He muses at her, bent over, ready for him; he runs his oiled fingers over the metal plug keeping his eyes on her tight entrance…he feels his cock throb from the rush, she wants to slam himself into her ass, but he calms himself with a breath. "Very good, now I'm going to put the plug in, remember to breathe and that it will be cold…"

Dammon only occasionally has guests in his small house, so he has never felt the need to hide his books. So what does he do? He proudly displays them on his bookshelf, rotating out his favorites for a nice reread on his nightstand. 

No matter how many times he might read this book, it always excites him. After a long day of pounding away at scorching hot metal it can get a person tightly wound up…and what's better than an excellent book to help wind you down after a long day…

Turns out that winding down is not what his body had in mind for him tonight. It started off as it usually does, his hand lazily stroking his cock, while he read from his book, but as he kept reading, he couldn't help but think about when he saw you last, bright smile, tight trousers, and your shirt barely containing your breast. You always looked like a vision, and he wouldn't mind getting his mouth on if you only asked. Dammons thoughts go to you bent over his anvil as he pounds into your warm heat, his hands keeping your wrist behind your back as you moan for more to show you all he knows. Dammons bites his lip at the thought, continuing to ram his cock into the crease of his pillow folded between his legs. His hand is not enough, and neither is the pillow, but if he thrusts fast enough, he can almost trick himself. It's your plush thighs he's ramming against. Dammon lets out deep moans as he gets closer, his cock weeping at the tip as he thinks of how deep he could go… how he could explore all of you for him to devour. Gods, to feel you cum all over him, to demand more from you till your body shakes from overstimulation. The pleasure he knows his rigid cock could give you. The surge of his orgasm washes over him as his cum shoots into his pillow with a low groan at the instant relief. Dammon throws his pillow off the bed as he catches his breath, so much for relaxing…

After the end of everything, it only makes sense that you would keep in touch with Dammon; every good hero needs a good blacksmith, and Dammon is yours. He was always so reliable and fun to talk to. It only makes sense that you were running his way whenever your sword or armor was nicked. You two slowly boned and found yourself spending hours just sitting and talking to him, telling him your adventures while Dammon just smiled and worked. Watching Dammon work was also an enjoyable experience; he was always so passionate about what he did… you wonder if he's as passionate in other ways

Dammon had told you to come by his place to pick up your weapons, which he was repairing. Having to do some last-minute things, he had set tea out for you and had you wait in his quaint little home. You waited and waited, but he was just taking so long, so you decided to walk around. While you were walking around, you saw Dammon's bookshelf and looked to see if you two shared the same taste in books…

As soon as you picked up one of the books and started to read it, you just couldn't stop. You didn't know if it was shocking, curiosity, or interest ... but what you were reading was so intense, and you just couldn't help how your thighs were pressing together to help ease your growing arousal. "Enjoying the book ?" his voice chimed, making you jump. Slamming the book closed and trying to stumble out an apology, Dammon just looks at your increasingly flushing face, and his smile grows.

Finally, Dammon gently places his hand on your lips, his face completely unfazed as his calm voice asks, "Want me to show you my favorite parts? "- How could you refuse?

What turned into him reading them to you led to you reading it yourself as Dammon ideally played with your hair as he watched you; he Turned to you, finally sharing in a passionate kiss, to where you are now ...

Both of you stripped down to your underwear, straddling Dammons thigh as he leaves slow, sloppy kisses on the column of your neck, "We will start slow...to show you …"

Your hands are holding on tightly to his broad shoulders as his hands slide down your waist to squeeze your hips. His bright eyes take in your blush as he asks if you're okay if you're ready. With a shy yes, you two start as he starts to guide your hips to grind on his thigh; the feeling of your clit rubbing against him makes warm pleasure rush down your spine to spread through you. Dammon just watches your beautiful face contort to the pleasure, listening to your soft moans and trembling Whines, his cock growing stiff as the arousal drips from your panties to leak on his thighs. God, he wants to trace it with his fingertips and have you taste yourself, but he contains himself, telling himself to go slow with you. Dammon moves his hands up to your breast, groping you softly as you continue your soft grind.

You keep rocking back and forth, feeling the tightness in your stomach as you gradually build your pace. From how wet you feel. Dammon knows you are so close to that high, so he decides to help you more. His left hand lowers your bra as his lips kiss your perked nipples before his tongue carefully traces the sensitive skin, making you moan so softly. Then With his right hand, he slips two fingers through your soaked panties to play with your swollen little clit. The feeling of his rough fingertips toying and then pinching softly is enough for that coil to break within you as you squirt on his lap.

"I'm so sorry …" You say in a gasp, but Dammon only shushes you as he holds you to his chest, his expert fingers guiding you through your orgasm. "You have nothing to apologize for ... that's so beautiful, which makes me want you to do it again ... "You whine and bury your face in his neck from his sultry words. Damon can't wait to teach you more things.

Cal: Innocent but wants to learn

There is not enough smut about Cal, which is a shame; he is a cutie and deserves to be included in the Tiefling Bachelor lineup. Cal always thought that there was only one way to get sexual stimulation from a book and those erotic art books people hid in their homes. He had heard of the desire to seek them out. Well, now Cal's grown up, he has needs. It's while Cal is trying to discreetly find one of these books when he comes across smut. Curious why a book like this would be in this section. That is when he figures it out… 

He couldn't help how her strong body roused him. It was an accident coming across her during her bath, but even the warrior jumped to action and could pin him down beneath her foot. He just stared at her bare body, shining in the moonlight as the water dripped down her skin. He swallowed his suddenly dry throat as the need to lick up every drip off her body to quench his thirst, but only if she wished it. How he would be a dog for her… "Why are you spying on me during my bath? Are you an assassin or just a pervert?" His rehearsed lines over why he joined her on her journey evaporate from his mind.

"My lady…lady, I wish to serve your every whim…I wish to be your hand…it would be an honor to travel with a noble hero like yourself…" Her eyes narrow before she swiftly drops down to his prone form…Gods, please don't sit on him and reveal to her his aching erection… "careful with your wording… you could easily end up as a squire… or my chew toy.." he tries to steady his breath… "whatever my knight wishes…" she smiles…this should be an interesting addition to her travels… 

Of course, Cal quickly bought the book and immediately packed it for home as soon as he left the store. As soon as he got to his room after sneaking past his siblings, he needed to find a place to hide it. The last thing he needed was for someone to see that he had this book. So, after a quick scan of his room, he shoved the book underneath his mattress. Nobody will find it there, right?  

Cal was completely immersed in the story; any time he had time off, she was sneaking off to his room to read another chapter or two. Then, late one night, he found that the plot was thickening, and it was starting to stir something within him. Cal springs from his bed and quickly decides to take a cool bath; that should help cool him right…

The bath did little to ease him; all while he was in the bath, his thoughts kept wandering to his book… and you. Now here he is, his fevered skin feeling the sharp bliss of the bathroom's tiled wall against his back, groaning lowly as he fucks his fist. Cal knew it was wrong to think of you this way, your beautiful legs spread open… your hand teasing yourself as your sweet arousal drips more and more. Cal knew he shouldn't be doing this, but that didn't stop him from shutting his eyes tighter, buckling his hips more desperately as he chased his high. All those previous feelings of shame melt away as your sweet voice calls his name, your eyes lidded, telling him to "Watch me, Cal…taste me…" Fuck, his breath picks up as dose his pace mumbling to himself how much he wants you… what he would fo got "Ah, just to taste you… to have you cum on my tongue…" Cal stroked faster, whimpering and moans growing louder at the thought of you pushing him down and sinking your soft cunt onto his cock. The way you would ride him as you screamed for him was the final straw that had his cock spasming, "Fuck, fuck, Fuck!" Cal couldn't help but chant like a prayer as he made a mess over his clean body. Cal looked down at his ruined body, "Dammit… I need to rinse off again…" 

Cal was always a pleasant person to be associated with; your friendship started when he thanked you for helping end a squabble between his siblings. After that, you two kept running into each other. First, he sought you out for combat advice, which made you two have friendly chats. You two both find each other to open up about your troubles with one other. Cal says he admires you and all the incredible heroic acts you have done, but you admire Cal and his cheerful, never-giving-up attitude. The world always seemed just that bit warmer when Cal is near…  

When you saw that Rolan and Lia were out at the tavern without Cal, you were instantly worried about him. They had told you he was not feeling good, apparently, and that immediately made you need to go see him. So, with a key from Rolan, you made your way to the tower to check in on Cal. When you reach outside his door, you hear a sound that makes you worried…   

The air in your lungs ripped from your throat, causing you to let out a gasp as you saw him fisting himself under his blanket. You and Cal locked eyes; he immediately stopped and quickly apologized to explain himself as he was trying to get untangled from his sheets. Poor Cal fell out of his bed, crashing to the floor in a tangled mess of his bedding. Walking over to him, you crouch Where his arm hides his face. "I .. am so sorry ... I ... didn't mean - ""Cal?" Cal Swallows, "Yes ?" You carefully move his arm away so you can look into his eyes. "Do you want me to help you ?" Cal looked up at you with wide eyes before nodding quickly.

Cal's breath was labored as his sweaty hands gripped the sheets as he looked at you in awe. Your hands wrapped around his length as you -Kissed and licked his peddling tip, your eyes watching his adorable face. Then with a final smile and a whisper to relax and enjoy, you start sucking around him, your soft tongue - licking around his sensitive underside making his hip twitch and buckle. Cal thought he must have fallen and cracked open his skull, passing on to the next heavenly realm; how could it be that you, perfect beautiful you, are sitting on your knees eagerly, sucking and slurping on his cock; it just couldn't be real.

Then he felt his cock push to the back of your throat, and he couldn't help from throwing his head back and moaning your name. You relished in the feeling of his trembling as he came in thick spurts down your throat. You had to hold back from laughing as you heard him apologize. Standing up, you smile at his hazy expression and slight smile. You swallowed him down and caressed his cheek, giggling as he pressed frantic kisses on your palm, saying a thousand thank yous. Grabbing his chin, you smile at him as he asks those words you were hoping for. "I .. um. I have never done it, but could I help you ?' Turns out Cal is very good at following directions.

[viennacherries]

Prompt suggestion <3 Rolan/Tav NSFW. Tav really likes it when Rolan speaks to her in infernal. She doesn’t understand it, but it doesn’t change the fact that it turns her on. He starts to notice her subtle reactions to when he curses or something in infernal. Which leads to bedroom shenanigans lol. My username is the same on A03 ^^

this has taken me a minute, mostly because i had to spend some time literally making up the infernal language for the purpose of this fic LMAO. if you're interested in my process it's in the end notes on ao3.

i changed the prompt a little though; rolan doesnt notice because he's very silly and keeps failing the perception check. lia notices immediently.

NSFW read on ao3 here

~~~

The first time Tav hears Rolan speak infernal, she doesn't even register it as a word. It slips past his tongue and it's all consonants and noises that she's not sure she could emulate properly with her non-tiefling tongue.

"Zurgan." He mutters it under his breath as he drops a pile of books.

Her quill stops midair where she's busy writing up an inventory of magical items they've found. With everyone else busy or gone from the city, she offered to help Rolan with organising the tower. It's been a nightmare, frankly. The previous tower master (she wont do him the privilege of speaking his name, the bastard) had apparently spent the last who-knows-how-many years stuffing things into random shelves and boxes.

She frowns as she tries to repeat the word, "Zu- Zurgan? What's that mean?"

Rolan jumps, clearly having forgotten she's in the room, "not zurgan, zurgan. It means- well, I don't know if it translates literally to common. It's... an expletive, I suppose ."

She laughs, "so it means 'fuck'?"

He huffs, and rolls his eyes, "I suppose that's a close enough approximation, yes."

"I don't think I've ever heard you swear before."

"Well," his brow is furrowed as he thinks, "I suppose I try not to, really. It's not becoming."

Tav snorts at that, "Gods, how old are you, 150? Besides, how is swearing in tiefling any different?"

"The language is called infernal, you uncultured swine. I'm a tiefling, I speak infernal."

"You speak something alright. Usually a crock of shi-"

"What did I say about it not being becoming, hm?"

She rolls her eyes at him, "so sorry, Master Rolan, please accept my humblest of apologies for disgracing your presence in such a regard."

He rolls his eyes at her, but she hears him snort and sees the quirk of his lip. "I suppose as far as apologies go, that one will suffice."

~~~

Several weeks later, Cal shouts through the door to the study where they're cataloguing evocation books, "Rolan! Lia and I are heading to the market, do you want us to pick up more of the wine you like?"

He laughs, which is rare enough in itself, and leans out the door to reply.

"Fazit drakon'ziz orum?!"

She hears Cal's responding cackle from down the hallway. "alright, alright, little drakon'ziz. I'll get 2 bottles, 'cos I love you."

When Rolan comes back in, chuckling to himself, Tav doesn't say anything. She wants to ask what it means, but she's... distracted.

Something about the way the words sound when he says them is... enticing. She's not sure if she could repeat them without butchering them, but even if she could she's sure they wouldn't sound as delicious as when they come from him. It's something about the rich tone to his voice, which she's always liked, coupled with the harsher edge it takes on when he speaks the foreign language.

Gods, she's been spending far too much time with him,

She clears her throat, "drakon'ziz?"

Rolan turns to her, still smiling, " drakon'ziz , but close. It means dragon."

His lopsided smile, aimed at her, coupled with the gruffness of the unknown word, is a little bit intoxicating.

"What about the rest of what you said? Fa- Fazit something?"

"'Fazit drakon'ziz orum?' It means 'does a dragon want gold?' It's a tiefling saying, basically means 'yes, obviously.' It just sounds better in infernal."

Tav agrees. It sounds rather lovely in infernal, in fact.

When Tav doesn't reply, he raises an eyebrow, "I could try and teach you some? Infernal, that is. If you'd be interested. Tell me something you want to be able to say, I'll try and teach you how to say it."

She thinks for a moment.

"What if I want to call someone a shit-head?"

He barks out a laugh as he rolls his eyes, "of course you'd just want to know how to insult people. I think the closest translation would be uzterku'zereb.  That means 'shit-for-brains'."

Despite the small jolt her stomach gives as he utters the phrase, she starts cackling. "That's even better!"

~~~

It's been about a month and a half since they started cataloguing everything in the tower, and it's basically become a nightly occurrence that Tav stays for dinner with them. Rolan has finally sat down at the dining table, after bringing all the dishes and cutlery through, and right as he hits the chair there's a sheepish voice from beside him.

"... Rolan~" It's Lia, in a singsong voice, and he huffs.

"What do you want?" It's a question, but it sounds more like an admonishment.

"How could you?! Assuming I want something from you. My beloved big brother. I look up to you so much. Also I left my drink in the sitting room."

You and Callum both laugh, and he makes a very dramatic show of pushing his chair back out with a huge sigh.

"You're such a..." He flails for a moment, as if the word in common has escaped him, "an uztanatez. Next time, you're getting it yourself."

She laughs, "My dear brother, I would fall on my sword for you."

"Mhm." He grumbles, " gladiz zurzum kuluz ..."

Cal nearly falls out of his chair laughing as Rolan trudges from the room, and Lia has a grin on her face from successfully riling him up and getting what she wanted.

Tav is blushing.

"What did he say?" She feels hesitant to bring attention to herself when she knows she's bright red, but she's also too nosy for her own good.

Lia looks at her and opens her mouth to answer, but pauses as she takes in Tav's face. Cal, blissfully, doesn't notice.

"Well the first bit was him calling her a suck up," he laughs through his explanation, "and the second bit was him telling her exactly where she could shove her sword."

She laughs, and thanks him for telling her. Lia is still looking at her. Her face warms more.

"What?"

"Hm." Lia smiles in a way that looks slightly threatening; the way Tav imagines a shark would smile at a seal before taking a huge chunk out of it. "Nothing, really. Only, you weren't that flushed before Rolan spoke in infernal. Got a thing for the devil's tongue, have you Tav?"

Cal furrows his eyebrows in confusion, before his eyes widen and his mouth drops in an 'o' of understanding.

She's about to deny it but she can feel that she's even redder now, so instead she buries her face in her hands. "Don't you dare! Don't you dare say anything!"

"Say anything about what?" Of course Rolan would walk back in now. He places Lia's cup in front of her and turns to Tav expectantly, but Lia speaks before she can.

"Tav is just embarrassed because she didn't understand what you said, she felt left out."

His face breaks into a look of confusion, "You shouldn't be embarrassed by that, Tav, you don't speak the language. Uztanatez-" Tav sucks in a breath, and Lia snorts, "means 'bootlicker'. Gladiz zurzum kuluz means... well... 'shove your sword up your rear'."

Cal and Lia are both sporting shit eating grins. Tav thinks now is a good time to pick a God and pray.

~~~

" Pulch'zer."

He says it as she walks through the door to the study one morning.

"Sorry, repeat that?"

His eyes widen, and his face flushes a deep crimson colour. She's never seen him blush before, or at least she's never noticed because of his skin's natural shade.

"Sorry I was just..." He averts his gaze, looking back at the paperwork he's working on, "I was just thinking out loud..."

She chuckles lightly. "Ah, that text will be kicking your ass then. Pulch'zer. What does it mean?"

He looks up at her again. His eyes lock with hers.

"You're close, it's not pulch'zer, it's pulch'zer . You have to put more emphasis on the 'Z' sound."

Gods, she needs to stop asking. He always ends up correcting her, and she always ends up going bright pink. He pronounces the words more precisely when he's teaching her how to say them, it drives her insane.

"Pulch- Pulch? Pulch'zer."

He chuckles, stands and walks over to her. "You're close, but now you're putting too much emphasis on it." He's only an arms length away from her now. " Pulch'zer ."

She gulps. He needs to stop repeating it.

"P- Pulch'zer." She can't tear her eyes away from him, she stares right into his gaze as she repeats it. He sucks a small breath in, so small it's barely noticeable.

"Yes. Very good."

There's a pause.

"So. What does it mean?"

He's flushing again. "It... Well. It..."

She raises an eyebrow, "that bad huh?"

"... it means 'beautiful'."

Tav's face twists in confusion. "What about your book is beaut-"

Rolan surges forward and plants his lips on hers. She gasps into it, the rest of her words swallowed by her inhale and his tongue. She sinks into it. His hands fall onto her waist, and he uses them to drag her closer, pulling the whole length of his body against hers. When he pulls away it feels far too soon, but in his defence he's breathless. He only leans his chest away, his hips still against hers.

"I wasn't talking about the book."

The look in his eyes is vulnerable in a way she's never seen him before. As though he desperately wants her to understand, and yet is terrified that she will. Like he's scared to fracture whatever comfortable thing they've fallen into together.

"Well..." She takes a deep breath, rests a hand on his chest. "Then I'd like you to know that I think you're very pulch'zer."

He sucks in through his teeth and lets out a single disbelieving laugh. "That sounds ridiculously good when you say it, you know."

She snorts, dismissive, "please, it's far better when you say it. I love when you speak infernal."

He stares at her.

She feels her eyes bug out of her head as what she said hits her. "I mean! Not that- I don't mean that like-"

"You love it? What does that mean?"

She can feel the heat in her face. Suddenly everywhere he's touching her is too much, she needs to fall through the floor to a new realm and start her life over with a fake name.

"I don't- I didn't mean-"

As she fumbles over her words, Rolan's face starts to lift into an understanding smirk. "Oh. I see. You love it."

He leans forward towards her, and his lips brush her ear.

"Tibiz plazet link'zon mezoq ?"

She shudders, "Rolan, I have no idea what you're saying."

He chuckles lowly against the shell of her ear. " Zedzit'n, nul'umne? Zede illizquit diko ."

Gods, it's torturous. He's dropped his voice an octave, giving the already heavy words an even more gravelled tone. Her breath is coming out in pants and she whines. The way it's affecting her is ridiculous.

He doesn't stop, " morentez me'zam? Notzo'illi ."

"Rolan, please."

He grins against her, and she feels his length pressing against her body through his robes. " Quid plaket, dilekt'miz ?"

" Rolan , common tongue, please . I want to know what you're saying."

"I said 'please what?'"

Tav huffs in irritation, "I don't know."

He brings his lips up to brush hers, smiling against her as she tries to pull him closer.

"Do you want me to kiss you again?"

She swallows hard around the lump in her throat and nods.

"Mhm. Ask me nicely."

The noise she lets out is embarrassing, a high pitched whine that she couldn't stop if she tried, but she feels his breath against her lips as he exhales in excitement.

"Kiss me, Rolan. Please."

His smile is wide against her, "as you wish, pulch'zer."

When he kisses her, his lips are gentle against hers. Soft and pliant, eager but restrained. When he parts them slowly, she responds in kind and finds his tongue with hers, and he rewards her with a deep, sensual moan from low in his throat. His lips are warm and soft, his mouth tastes of spearmint, his breath flows through her. She feels her small-clothes growing damp.

As he deepens the kiss his movements grow more insistent, more intense, and he squeezes her hips as he grinds her into him. She moans in response and the noise flips a switch in him. All of a sudden his lips are frantic, the kiss turning messy and needy, and his hands are running up and down her body as thought they don't know where to settle.

He pulls back enough to speak, his breath dancing along her lips, his voice barely above a whisper. " Nezkiz quid'mih fakiaz. Volui'illi tamd'umne ."

Tav moans, long and slow as the words rush over her skin, "Gods, Rolan. I wish I knew what you were saying. Fuck ."

He chuckles quietly, "perhaps I'll teach you Comprehend Languages. Then again... Forzit adv'illi."

She groans. "Rolan, please ."

He grins, grinding his length against her, "please, what?"

The huff she lets out is impatient, "you know what."

His mouth traces the shell of her ear again and she shivers. "Perhaps. But tell me anyway."

She groans, "please fuck me, Rolan."

He needs no further invitation. Rolan undresses them both rapidly, swift and efficient just as he treats his work, and they're both bare before each-other in a few moments.

When he looks over her, sweeping his eyes across her form, he lets out a low noise of appreciation. "Hells, Tav, you're beautiful."

She feels nervous, all of a sudden, bare before him, but she smiles despite it. "So are you."

He's back on her, trailing his lips along her throat and collarbone, leaving teasing bites and grazes with his canines. She's a whimpering, writhing mess beneath him but she doesn't care. She can feel his length pressed against her stomach, can feel the grooves of the door on her back, and she's absolutely aching with need.

"Is this okay? Are you comfortable?" His questions make her chest ache with a different kind of need to the one pulsing through her core.

"Yes, Rolan. Please, for the love of- fuck me against this door."

His moan in response to her words is loud and wanton. " Hells , Tav. Lift your leg for me."

She does, and he grabs under her knee, lifting it up so it wraps around his hip, the heel of her foot against the base of his tail while her other foot stays planted against the floor. His other hand comes between them, grips the base of his cock and rubs it against her folds. She throws her head back as she keens, and at the same time he lets out a groan closer to a growl.

"Fuck, you're so wet. Is- This is still okay? You want this?" His voice wavers with lust.

Hearing him curse is almost as incredible as hearing him speak infernal. "Yes , Gods if you don't-"

He's sliding himself into her before she can finish her threat, and the rest of her words fizzle out into a high pitched moan as she throws her head back. His length is ridged and she can feel every notch as it slides into her. He works his way into her slowly, thrusting only an inch at a time until his pelvis comes to rest against hers, and he folds over to rest his forehead against her shoulder.

His first half of his sentence is muttered, the second half directed at her, "Tam strikta , fuck. Ita infek'tum strikta. Tell me when you're ready, dilekt'miz."

"I'm ready, please, fuck me."

He silences his own moan by clamping his mouth over the meat between her neck and shoulder, and begins thrusting shallowly. The slide of him inside her, the ridges on his shaft dragging against her walls, has her tightening her leg around his waist and dragging him closer. He grunts through his mouthful of her skin and starts to pick up his pace, until he's thrusting hard and fast into her.

She's a mess, and she knows it, but it doesn't matter. She's digging her heel into his ass and arching her hips away from the door to get closer to him, head thrown back and eyes wrenched shut. It's too much, but it's not enough. She grabs his hand that isn't holding her knee up and places it round the back of her other thigh. He's a quick study as always, taking a firm hold on the back of her leg and hoisting her other leg up around him, so she's held up against the door by just his weight against her and his bruising grip. It changes the angle, he drives deeper into her, and they both moan in tandem.

He's speaking again, infernal dialect spilling from him freely into her skin, " Nezkiz. Nezkiz quam di'tez vellem. Quamdiu korpuz tuum'kontraz petivi. Vid'tez habzeq. Miz'tib animez'umne ." He speaks the words with a reverence that that has her keening, clenching around him.

"Rolan, I'm so close, fuck don't stop."

He shakes his head, thrusts into her harder, "Hells, I won't, Tav. I won't, I won't, adv'illi, adv'illi -"

The utterance of more quiet infernal words against her tips her over the edge, and she finds her release around him. His movements become stuttered, desperate, " Tez amorez. Tez amorez taz'multo. Perfik'miz. Amaz, amaz, num'quam latuz dezeraz. Morent'illi anim defendam."

He follows her over the precipice and empties himself inside her. She tightens her hold on him with her legs and kisses his neck as his hips twitch through his release, and as he stills they both try to find breath against each-other's skin.

"Gods, Tav." His voice is hoarse, "you- that was- I-"

She chuckles, which makes her walls clench and his hips stutter as he gasps at the feeling. "That was amazing, Rolan. What... Um. What were you saying?"

She pulls away to look at him, and his face is incredibly red. His freckles are barely visible through the violent blush. "Oh, um. Nothing- Nothing, really. Nothing important. Just... babbling. You know."

She laughs, slowly lowering her legs to the ground, both shuddering as he pulls himself from her. He mutters a quick incantation and they're both clean.

"You're going to have to teach me Comprehend Languages, now. I'm far too nosy to leave it at that."

"Hm. We'll see."

~~~

Translations:

"Tibiz plazet link'zon mezoq?" ("You like when I speak to you in my native tongue?")

"Zedzit'n, nul'umne? Zede illizquit diko." ("But you don't care, do you? It's not about what I say.")

"Morentez me'zam? Notzo'illi." ("Moaning for me already? Aren't I lucky.")

Quid plaket, dilekt'miz?" ("Please what, my beloved?")(he lies and tells her it means "please what?")

"Nezkiz quid'mih fakiaz. Volui'illi tamd'umne." ("You have no idea what you do to me. I have wanted you for so long.")

"Then again... Forzit adv'illi." ("Then again... Perhaps I won't.")

"Tam strikta, fuck. Ita infek'tum strikta. Tell me when you're ready, dilekt'miz." ("So wet, fuck. So tight and wet. Tell me when you're ready, my beloved.")

"Nezkiz. Nezkiz quam di'tez vellem. Quamdiu korpuz tuum'kontraz petivi. Vid'tez habzeq. Miz'tib animez'umne." ("You have no idea. You have no idea how long I've wanted you. How long I've craved your body against mine. I have dreamt of having you like this. My soul burns for you.")

"adv'illi" ("I won't.")

"Tez amorez. Tez amorez taz'multo. Perfik'miz. Amaz, amaz, num'quam latuz dezeraz. Morent'illi anim defendam." ("I love you. I love you so much. You complete me. Please, please never leave my side. I would protect you to my dying breath.")

[fic--writer]

The archmage must get married

Rolan x fem!Tav, Lia, Cal.

1780 words. Humor, romance, SFW, Post-canon

Rolan and Tav are secretly in love with each other, but neither of them dares to make the first move. However, the circumstances are changing.

"Rolan! You have to get married!" — Lia blurted this out right at breakfast.

Rolan froze with his glass in hand, then sharply turned to his sister, staring intently at her tired, yet extremely serious face.

"I have to... what?" — he asked, not believing his ears.

"Get married! You're an archmage now. You have status, and you're in the public eye. Damn journalists found out you're single and wrote that ridiculous article, and..."

Rolan frowned and took a sip of wine.

"What article?" — he asked cautiously.

A laugh came from the other side of the table. His brother, Cal, quoted from memory:

"'The new Archmage has been named the sexiest bachelor of Baldur's Gate.'"

Rolan choked.

"Zurgan!" — he gasped, coughing. "Maybe you both could finally start reading something more respectable than tabloid trash? Just think about it! You live in a tower with one of the rarest libraries, have access to any books, and instead…"

Lia interrupted his tirade, gesturing irritably with her hands: "It's not about that! The problem is your new admirers, who are becoming more and more persistent every day! Hundreds of letters, all smelling of perfume, and often cheap ones at that... I have to manually sift through the important correspondence, and yesterday I spent an entire hour explaining to one pushy woman that you don’t see visitors without an appointment!”

She shook her head and, crossing her arms over her chest, stared at him intently:

“Rolan, you're a grown man. You have a huge tower, a position, work... It’s really time for you to settle down."

Rolan sighed in resignation:

"Fine, I'll think about it, but only if it makes you shut up."

"Think about it? As if we don’t all know who 'exactly' will be your sweet little wife," - Cal chimed in, and he and Lia both started giggling.

"What?!"

"Oh, come on," - Cal smirked. - "You're too obvious. Even if you think you're hiding it well."

"What. Do. You. Mean?" - Rolan narrowed his eyes, his voice dropping dangerously low, and why did these troglodytes always manage to get under his skin...

"What do I mean?" — Cal chuckled, making faces and mimicking his brother. — "Tav, shall I pour you some wine? Tav, want to read together? Tav, will you have dinner with us? Tav..."

"Hush you!" — Rolan barked, feeling the heat rush to his face. — "She’s my friend, not my damn girlfriend!"

Cal just smirked and shook his head.

Of course, Rolan felt a whole spectrum of emotions toward Tav. How could he not? She saved his red hide from certain death, she saved his family, she helped him become an archmage, and even saved this damned world.

And she was damned beautiful. But did he have the right to want more? To demand her — all of her, without reservation?

"Well, it's your call, but decide soon before your fans start storming the tower or slipping love potions into your food."

Lia cast a glance at his plate.

"By the way... where did that pastry come from?"

Rolan froze. Then, slowly, he lowered his gaze to the dessert in his hands. The next second, he violently shoved it aside, desperately spitting out the remains.

Tav stepped into the Archmage's tower and found Lia, deeply focused as she sorted through some papers. Over the past few months, Rolan’s sister had essentially become his personal secretary, keeping order in the endless stream of work.

Tav’s attention was drawn to a tall stack of letters, many of them pink.

She frowned, grabbed one of the letters, and flipped it over in her hands. On the envelope, oh gods, there were... little hearts?! And in the recipient field, none other than Archmage Rolan was listed.

"What... is this?" — Tav asked, concern evident in her voice as she shook the letter in her hand.

"Oh, these?" Lia replied, not looking up. "Love letters. From women... and not just them. They all dream of being the companion of a man of status..."

"Oh? Ooo... Oh." — Tav could barely manage to squeeze out, her mind racing.

Almost with disgust, she shoved the letter back into the pile, her eyes darting nervously.

"Tav? Are you okay?"

"Me? Uh... yeah... no..." — she swallowed nervously. — "I think I’m a little... sick."

Lia narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Tav looked the same as always, no signs of illness. Shrugging, Lia sighed and returned to her work.

Tav, not saying another word, stretched out her hand. One quick incantation — and from her finger erupted a narrow pillar of flame, instantly turning the letters into a handful of ashes.

Lia swore, jumping back:

"What the hell are you doing!?"

"Oh, that was totally an accident! I don’t know..." — Tav desperately tried to put on an innocent face.

Lia raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharp with suspicion.

"Really? You don’t know? One of the most powerful sorceresses in the city ‘accidentally’ casts a spell?" — She wasn’t buying this nonsense.

“When I’m sick, I… I’m not myself!” — Tav blurted out, taking a step back.

Lia opened her mouth to respond, but just then, the door slammed open, and a stranger burst into the room.

A young woman, dressed in tight clothing that emphasized her very noticeable curves, smiled as she entered:

"Hi! I want to become the Archmage’s apprentice... I want to learn magic from him."

Tav slowly shifted her gaze to Lia.

Lia slowly shifted her gaze to Tav.

Tav narrowed her eyes, giving the young woman a thorough once-over. Before Lia had a chance to respond, Tav stepped forward and calmly said:

"Really? Then show me the simplest spells you already know. Please."

"Show you? Oh. Well, I need to get in the right mindset..." — The stranger blinked in confusion, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

There’s no magic in her at all, Tav realized, and continued:

"You know what?" — she suggested with a tight smile. — "It would be best if you wrote a letter to the Archmage."

"Really?" — The girl brightened, her eyes sparkling with hope.

"Really," Tav confirmed, barely holding back a sly smirk. — "He will definitely respond."

Satisfied, the girl nodded, apologized, and quickly hurried off.

Lia watched the girl leave, then slowly turned to Tav, her mouth slightly open, clearly about to ask a million questions.

But as soon as their eyes met, all the words got stuck in her throat. Tav's gaze clearly said: "Not a word more."

Lia sighed heavily and returned to her papers. Another day in the Archmage's tower was shaping up to be exceptionally long.

When Rolan entered the reception room, the first thing that caught his eye was the blackened scorch mark on the table.

"Zurgan! This is a red oak table! Who the hell did this?!" — He froze, then his tail flicked irritably.

"It was Tav," — Lia said flatly, not even bothering to look up from her papers.

Tav, standing off to the side, nervously cleared her throat.

Rolan blinked, finally noticing her:

"Oh, Tav? Hey... How are you? I mean... why my table?" — He ran a hand over his face, exhaling heavily. — "Alright, never mind."

The Archmage's anger noticeably subsided, and taking advantage of the moment, Lia lazily added:

"Oh, and she just kicked one of your potential apprentices out the door..."

Rolan slowly turned his head toward Tav.

Tav greeted him with a flawless, innocent smile.

Lia smirked and flipped the page of her papers.

Tav’s cheeks instantly turned crimson, and she hissed at Lia:

"Can you be quiet for just one second?!"

But it was too late.

Rolan crossed his arms over his chest, staring at her intently.

"You did what?"

Tav straightened up, trying to look confident.

"The cat at the fish stall has more magic flowing through it than that girl," — she countered. — "I just made your job easier."

"But you didn’t even let me take a look, you didn’t even tell me! Why?!"

Tav opened her mouth... and immediately realized she had no coherent explanation. She began stammering, stumbling over her words, cursing herself for not being able to just fall straight into hell right now.

Rolan, not waiting for an answer, let out a heavy sigh, grabbed her by the wrist, and decisively dragged her toward his office.

The door slammed shut behind them, leaving Lia alone.

She smirked, gave a satisfied hum, and walked off.

“Finally”.

"What the hell is going on, Tav?!" — Rolan stormed into the office, his voice echoing through the room. — "First you scorch my table, then you make decisions for me! Has a worm eaten your brain?"

Tav, without taking her eyes off his face, replied, trying not to let her irritation show:

"I told you, there’s no magic in that girl. She just came to show off in front of you. You wouldn’t have taught her anyway, so why waste time?"

"Really?" — His voice turned mockingly amused. — "Then why didn’t you even let me take a look? Why didn’t you let me make the decision myself? Do you think I can’t do anything right?!"

"Do you really have to talk to me like that? Did I step on your tail or something?" — Tav took a defensive stance.

Rolan froze, staring at her face… and suddenly his smirk became almost devilish:

“Wait, what? Are you jealous?”

Tav quickly turned away, pretending that something interesting was happening outside the window, but her flushed cheeks gave it all away.

“Oh, I always knew there had to be some special reason for you to save me and my family so many times…” — he continued, stepping closer — “But I never could have imagined…”

Tav had no time to answer. Driven by something inexplicable, the Archmage scooped her up in his arms, sat her down on the table almost effortlessly, and placed himself between her legs.

Tav gasped, but made no protest. On the contrary, she grabbed his collar and pulled him closer...

Cal, as usual, entered the Archmage’s office without knocking:

"Rolan, what do you want for dinner? Oh! Sorry... uh... I didn't see anything, go ahead."

He took a few steps back and slammed the door shut with a resounding thud. A moment of silence, as if he wanted to forget what he had just seen, and Cal was already on his way to his sister:

"Lia! You won’t believe it! I think we can start preparations for the wedding!"

Lia simply raised an eyebrow:

"Relax, I started a month ago."

.

.

.

Read the NSFW follow up of the fic by wonderful @kimberbohwrites

[lemonsrosesandlavender]

Sentence Game - Subby Rolan in Rut

Alright folks, we have our winner! 18 sentences of rut porn, coming right up. I promise that finishing this story is top priority for this month!

Below the cut, for obvious reasons.

‘One last question, before I take you. Have you ever been fucked in rut before? Have you ever had a mate before?’

‘No!’ Rolan groans. ‘No - I have never -'

‘Good,’ you interrupt. ‘Because you’re mine.’ Reaching down, you press the head of his cock to your soaked cunt - and then you lean close, to growl in his ear as you take him. ‘You’re mine - voco vinae -'

‘Ahhhh!’

The vines whip his wrists down, his ankles too, and though you fuck him like this often, Rolan looks at you with a new, wild surprise in his eyes.

‘Zurgan - it feels - ah - oh! -’

‘Mmm?’ you gasp encouragingly, already losing your breath as you ride him - though not as fast as he is losing his.

Back arching, he curses you; curses rut, curses this wretched heat within, this need, this fever, this -

‘Oh, Gods!’ he shouts, and cries out your name as he comes. You smile, and then you cry out yourself, because suddenly you feel it pressing hard against the walls of your cunt. The knot - he wasn’t exaggerating, you are beyond full, pushed suddenly to the edge of pain, and it is only with steady, careful deep breaths that you master the sensation, allow yourself to stretch around him until comfort returns and with the briefest touch to your clit you come in spasms on Rolan’s cock.

It takes several moments for Rolan’s golden irises to unroll from his eyelids, and far longer for the words to gather back on his tongue.

[swordbisexual]

Emerald Grove

Rolan Week Day One

(or, the canon-adjacent alt timeline, because I can)

(cross-posted to AO3)

--

It is bad enough, Rolan thinks, that he is stuck in this miserable druids’ grove for the foreseeable future. The actual grove - green and lush and brimming with magic, which might be a fascinating source of study, if talk of the library beneath is to be believed - is apparently off-limits to outsiders, much less those of the Infernal persuasion. Instead, he is banished just like the rest, forced to make do with the cramped warrens and dirty caverns that the druids deem acceptable for visitors, refugees, peddlers, and prisoners alike. That he must suffer indignity and a sore back from sleeping on the ground should have been anguish enough for the sake of Lia’s misguidedly noble need for heroism.

But no. No. He must suffer even more, it seems, and be subject to seeing the woman who talked him into staying here.

Day in and day out, he can mark the ten o’clock hour; not by a bell, or clockwork, or even anything as primitively civilized as a sundial. He marks it instead by a flash of white hair and a swish of a freckled violet tail out of the corner of his eye as Shaxibis - tiefling, bard, and, apparently, adventuring sword-for-hire - picks her way through the carts and crates crammed into the Hollow’s lower levels as she brings an armful of provisions to Okta for the stew pot. One day it’s a bundle of carrots. Another day, it’s a brightly green-and-yellow striped carnival squash, handed over to the older woman with a wink and a grin and a “don’t you worry about it, and don’t you dare hand me any coppers for it, I’ll just take a bowl for lunch instead.”

Relentlessly cheerful, all of the time, so blithe as to possibly be utterly brainless. People like to accuse wizards of being all flash and no defense, but bards… well, they truly win the day when it comes to painting a loud target on themselves. That Shaxibis has not ended up with a back full of goblin bolts is entirely beyond Rolan’s understanding; she is entirely too loud and bright, clad in reds and golds that can be seen from a mile away, and with the snowy silver-white of her hair, she might as well be lighting up a beacon every time she moves.

Not that he’s keeping an eye out.

He also decidedly has not attuned his ear to always catch the oddly musical sound of her voice. He would blame that on her profession, too, but there are other bards about. Alfira, for one, has a perfectly ordinary speaking voice, only ever distinguishing herself when she plays or sings. Shaxibis, though, sounds like the chime of a bell, whether speaking or singing, and whenever she laughs in utterly incongruous delight at whatever somber thing she’s just heard from Ikaron, Rolan has to cross his arms a little tighter and hold himself still from turning towards the sound.

Zurgan. If she won’t save this damned grove soon, he might have to go do the job himself just so they might finally part ways for good.

Cal and Lia are endlessly charmed by her, of course. It’s the only reason he suffers her company whenever she comes traipsing over with a bowl of stew in her hands. Cal has already told him to try and stay civil for Lia’s sake; Lia herself has been more forthright in what she thinks of Rolan’s attempts at civil conversation.

“You’re an ass,” his sister says to him, not for the first time or even the tenth, before Shaxibis has joined them for lunch today. “You could at least not be an ass.”

“I am not an ass,” Rolan says, though even to his own ear he thinks that his tone does veer a little close to stubborn and mulish.

“You said ‘pompous ass’ this morning,” Cal quips before blowing on the stew - full of potatoes this time, brought by one sparkling-bright too-cheerful bard nearly two hours prior - and lifting a spoonful. “Can’t forget the ‘pompous’ part.”

Rolan clutches his own spoon as he rounds on Lia. “I am not—”

“You are.”

They might descend into an endless round of squabbling were it not for Cal slapping a palm on the stone that they stand around as a makeshift table, accompanying the dull thump with a loud cough. Before Rolan can ask if he’s eaten too fast - again - he hears that clear, ringing, bell-like voice. “What’s Rolan done this time?”

He feels the tips of his ears burning hot, though he cannot fathom why. He has no reason to be embarrassed; it’s his sister who’s stooped to pointlessly puerile provocation, not him, and what’s more, it’s none of Shaxibis’ business. Looking back over his shoulder, only half out of the side of his eye lest he blind himself on the vision of scarlet and storms and snow that Shaxibis’ clothes and skin and hair always conjure up, he at least manages not to curl his upper lip too terribly. “I’ve done nothing whatsoever.”

She chuckles, and the heat in his ears creeps out over his cheeks. “And you do it so well.”

Cal, ever the peacekeeper, raises his bowl. “What’re you bringing tomorrow?”

At that, Shaxibis lets out a curiously deep breath, so much like a sigh - and so unlike any other sound she’s yet to make - that Rolan has to turn to face her in full. She’s still smiling, but there is a strained edge to it, and her eyes (gold, too, just as bright as the baubles in her hair) take on a flinty edge. “With any luck, it’ll be whatever we can carry from the goblin camp.”

Her tone is light, but her words bring a hush down over their small circle anyway. There had been talk that Shaxibis and her ragtag bunch had scouted out the same temple where the First Druid disappeared more than a tenday ago, but Rolan chalked it all up to baseless conjecture. Wild rumors drummed up by a group of children who’d come to view Shaxibis as some sort of folk hero. But to hear it from her own lips…

Rolan stares into his bowl and tries not to think overmuch about Shaxibis’ lips. “Take care,” he says, the words quiet and halting, as if he cannot himself believe that he’s said them.

Slowly, Shaxibis rests her half-empty bowl on the stone. “What?”

He furrows his brow and frowns before he looks up to her again. “I said, you’re no use to the rest of us dead.”

Her lips quirk at that, and then she smiles, wide enough that twin dimples deepen in her cheeks, and he feels his stomach lurch, just a little. “Don’t I know it.”

[sgsy1005]

[angelatmidnight1]

Brotherly Love

Ramazith’s Tower is under new leadership thanks to Tav and Dame Aylin’s efforts. Rolan moved Cal and Lia in immediately. He wants them to feel at home in their new home. But, by the Gods, he has more rules than the Counting House has vaults. Don’t touch this, put that back, why’re you touching it in the first place? Cal and Lia don’t want their dear brother to become the stereotype of a grumpy old wizard. So, they take it upon themselves to get him to lighten up. 

Arabellan Dry is Rolan’s favorite wine. It got him through the hard nights in the Shadowlands, when he wasn’t sure if he’d see Cal and Lia alive again.

 Now, after being reunited with his siblings and having full control of Ramazith’s Tower, he swore it tasted even better. 

Wine and books are a complimentary pair. Rolan poured himself a glass and went to recline in his favorite chair. He was in the process of decoding an ancient tome that Lorrokan refused to share with him. He came to realize that the bastard kept it from him because he knew he’d figure it out, and do it a damn sight better. He took a long sip from the glass and set it down, sliding into the plush chair. After a deep sigh, he put the glass on a nearby end table, then reached for where he left the tome. 

Only it wasn’t there. 

Rolan’s brow furrowed in confusion. He got up and looked under the table, thinking it may have fallen, but it wasn’t there either. It wasn’t like him to misplace things, and he hadn’t had enough wine to make him forgetful. Suddenly, there was the sound of shuffling feet, followed by two mischievous giggles. 

Rolan pinched his eyes closed. He exhaled slowly through his nose. He was ecstatic to be reunited with his siblings, and even that was an understatement. He would’ve walked through all nine of the hells if it meant saving them. But, he was still getting used to their regular company and, by default, their mischief. 

The wizard rose to his feet and turned towards the sound. Lo and behold, Cal and Lia stood at the doorway, grinning. Rolan glowered; he did not have the time or desire to play these games. 

“Give me my tome back at once,” Rolan demanded, which only made their smiles widen. “I’m serious. I have no patience for this!”

Cal looked around, as if looking for a fourth person, only to make a big show of realization. “Oh, you’re talking to us?” He chuckled, “I’m surprised you remembered us at all given you’ve spent more time with your books than us.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rolan scoffed. “Once I finish my studies, I make sure to spend ample time with both of you. Right now, you are preventing me from doing so since you stole my tome. So I ask again: Give. me. my. book.”

“Well I don’t have it,” Cal emphasized his point by raising his hands in surrender. His tail flicked behind him in amusement as he glanced at his sister. “Lia?”

“What, you mean this old thing?” Lia produced the book from behind her back. Rolan let out an exasperated growl. “Didn’t realize it was so important. There’s only a million like it in this tower.”

“That ‘old thing’ may be the difference between me keeping this tower or us being forced out onto the streets,” Rolan barked. He stomped over to them. Neither Cal nor Lia moved to run. Rolan went to swipe the book out of Lia’s hands, but she tossed it to Cal at the last minute. “Zurgan, hand it over at once!”

Cal held the book over his head. “Or what?” He laughed, holding it just out of his reach. “Gonna lash out and turn us into toads?”

“That’ll be the least I do, if you’re lucky.” Rolan almost had it until Cal tossed it back to Lia, prolonging the game of keepaway. Rolan’s already red face grew a shade darker. Lia could tell he was ready to explode. Instead of throwing the book again, she held it out to him. 

“Alright, alright, don’t blow a gasket. Here’s your precious book.” 

Rolan snatched it out of her hands. Usually, Lia snapped at him for being so brusque, but that wasn't the purpose of her and Cal’s visit. “We’ve just missed you, Rolan,” she huffed, “We know how important your studies are, but we hardly see you!”

Rolan checked the cover and pages for any damages. “As I’ve said,” he grumbled, “I will join you once I’ve finished here. If you stop bothering me, I will finish sooner rather than later.”

“Fine, we’ll go. Just one more thing first?” Lia stepped in front of him, arms extended out to the side. “Can you give your little sister a hug?”

Rolan took a step back. His eyes narrowed with a mix of confusion and suspicion. “A hug?”

“Yes, a hug.” Lia smiled sweetly. “Surely that isn’t too much to ask for before you go back to reading these dull books.”

Rolan hesitated for a split second. Then, he turned away with a haughty huff. “You can’t be serious.”

Lia’s smile faded. She lowered her arms, deflated. “I don’t always want to fight, you know. Just…a real hug, for once?”

After a long beat, Rolan let out a reluctant sigh. He rolled his eyes and moved closer. “Fine, if it’ll get you to leave me in peace.”

As soon as he was within reach, Lia stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. Rolan resigned, but barely had time to wrap his arms around her when he felt a sudden grip on his shoulders—Cal had snuck up from behind.

Wha—Cal!?” Rolan yelped, trying to pull out of his grip, only to be pulled flushed against his chest. Cal held onto him firmly as he struggled. And, before Rolan could make another indignant demand, he felt Lia’s fingers worming up his sides. 

Oh hells, he thought. Not tickling. Not something as ridiculous and childish as—

The fluttering ticklish sensations yanked him out of his thoughts. He squirmed more vigorously in his brother’s hold, gritting his teeth to keep the laughter at bay. 

“Gotcha~” Lia sang, her fingers darting from his sides to his tummy. His robes did little to block out the ticklish sensations and, when she moved her hands underneath to knead her thumbs into the spot, his shirt offered even less protection. 

Rolan growled, spewing Infernal profanities as he tried to free his arms. “Let go of me, Cal-” he demanded. The slight tremor in his voice betrayed his resolve, and he curled in on himself as Lia’s claws poked up his belly. “I mean it! Cease this childish nonsense at once!”

“And leave you to brood?” Cal snickered and held his arms over his head in a secure grip. He gave Lia a mischievous smile. “Get him good, Lia.”

“With pleasure.” Lia’s grin widened as she tickled up his stomach, squeezed his sides, and ended with dragging her claws along his ribs. Rolan flinched and bit down hard. He clenched his jaw and shook his head, determined not to give in. He tried to twist away, but Cal’s grip held him firmly in place. 

“Enough!” Rolan barked, his voice strained as he struggled to keep a straight face. “This is ridiculous.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Lia teased, fingers skittering across his ribs in light, maddening pokes. “Seems like it’s working to me.”

Rolan sucked in a breath, trying to ignore the ticklish jolts shooting through him, but the tremble in his voice betrayed him. “I—I mean it, Lia, enough of this—” His words faltered as she hit a particularly sensitive spot, and his mouth pressed into a thin line, fighting back a smile.

“Oh, you’re so close,” Cal laughed, tightening his hold on Rolan’s arms. “Come on, don’t tell us this doesn’t tickle.”

“It doesn’t!” Rolan’s shoulders shook as he fought against the maddening urge to laugh. “I-I’m n-not ticklish-”

Lia started swirling the tips of her claws in random patterns along his ribs. Rolan gasped and flinched again. He doubled over as much as he could in a last ditch effort to pull away. 

But Lia kept scribbling.

She occasionally added fuel to the fire by squeezing his hip or the side of his stomach. Rolan’s gasps and growls turned into short, reluctant chuckles. Lia cocked her head to the side, kneading her fingertips into his lowermost ribs. 

“It doesn’t tickle? Not even a little?” Lia cooed, moving her fingers higher toward his underarms, watching as his resolve started to crack. “That’s not how we remember it. You’ve always been more ticklish than me and Cal combined.”

Rolan didn’t answer. He tried to reel in the escaping chuckles, but it was becoming more and more difficult as she inched closer to his underarms. “N-Noho-” He tittered and squirmed more fervently to pull his arms free. “I am not﹘not﹘”

But as her fingers slipped under his arms, Rolan felt a bolt of ticklish energy he couldn’t contain. He sucked in a breath, pressing his lips together harder, but a small, breathy laugh escaped despite himself.

“There it is!” Cal grinned, watching Rolan struggle as his body betrayed him further with each poke and prod.

Rolan twisted, fighting for composure, but the laughter kept bubbling up. “S-stop—this—” he choked out, though his laughter was gaining momentum, his body shaking with barely contained mirth.

“Stop what? This?” Lia spidered into his hollows, earning a loud, growling laugh. “I thought you said you weren’t ticklish. What’s so funny?”

“Dahahamn youhuhu!” Rolan cursed and threw his head back as he laughed harder. Lia kept up the gentle, spidering assault along his underarms. When she wasn’t drilling into the hollows, she used her claws to trace gentle circles along the sensitive nerves. Rolan tugged against Cal’s grip with as much strength as he could muster, but he wasn’t going anywhere, and that ticklish panic settled deeper into his bones. “Lehehet gohoho of me, youhuhu brahahats!”

“Ooo, hear that, Lia?” Cal chuckled and, despite his struggling, he kept his brother’s arms locked in place. “We’re brats. Not sure if that’s a step up or down from troglodytes.”

“Oh, definitely a step up,” Lia answered, working all ten of her claws back into his underarms. Rolan lurched forward and wheezed, laughing into her shoulder. She giggled. “He’s called us worse.”

“Youhuhu’ll pahahy for thihihis!” Rolan threatened in between bursts of frantic laughter. “Nahaha! C-Cehehease this madness at onohonce!” 

“Madness? This is fun!” Lia argued. She moved her claws even faster along his armpits. Rolan’s laughter took on more of a desperate note as he bucked in Cal’s hold. 

“NOHOHO!” Rolan protested, drumming his legs against the floor. “It is mahahahadness! N-Nohoht thehehere-”

“Here?” Lia emphasized her point by kneading her thumbs into the hollows, moving them in small circles. Rolan yelped and twisted like a fish out of water. He barely noticed how Cal shifted his hold on him so that he could keep him pinned, but also join in on the tickling fun. 

“Or here?” Cal chimed in, swiping his claws along the length of his ribs. Rolan’s laughter jumped to a new pitch as he made a poor attempt to slump over. 

“FIHIHIHIENDS!” He howled and shook his head side to side, shaking with laughter. Cal and Lia giggled. They weren’t giggling at their brother, but rather with him. Rolan was usually so stuffy and proper. They couldn’t remember the last time they heard him genuinely laughing. His laughter was composed of gruff chuckles and sharper, breathier cackles if either of them got an especially sensitive spot. They kept up the tickling attack for what felt like an eternity, until Rolan’s kicking feet caught Cal’s attention. 

“Do you remember that one spot that had him squealing like a goblin, Lia?” Cal asked while kneading the spaces between his brother’s ribs. Despite being in hysterics, Rolan’s eyes snapped open. He saw the metaphorical light bulb go off in her head, and a devious grin was quick to follow. 

“Well, now that you mention it…”Lia moved so that she was now sitting in front of Rolan’s feet. “Maybe it does ring a bell.”

“Nohoho! D-Don’t you dare!” Rolan protested, drawing his legs in towards himself. Lia grabbed onto his legs in a determined grip and wrestled off his shoes. “Lia, plehehease!”

“Please? Never thought I’d get one of those out of you,” Lia grinned and fluttered her fingertips over his sole. “Now come on, I just wanna see if this spot still works!”

The effect was instantaneous—Rolan’s gruff laughter turned into loud, boisterous cackles. “NAHAHAHA! NOHOHOT THE FEHEHEET!” His laughter hit a fever pitch, voice cracking as he fell into high-pitched, uncontrollable squeals. His toes curled in a vain attempt to protect himself, but Lia’s nimble fingers danced over every inch, finding every ticklish nerve.

Cal laughed, switching from his ribs to repeatedly squeeze his sides. “There it is! The goblin squeal!” he teased, laughing along with his brother’s cackles.

Lia's fingers danced over his soles, scratching lightly at his heels, then up to the balls of his feet, driving him wild. “Kitchy-kitchy-koo, Rolan!” she teased, finding all the spots that made him shriek the loudest. Rolan jolted forward, nearly freeing himself from Cal’s grasp. 

“I yiehehehield! M-Mercy! Mercy!” he cried out, his voice hoarse and eyes squeezed shut as tears of laughter streamed down his cheeks. Finally, his devious siblings stopped their attack, leaving him in a breathless, giggly heap. 

Lia patted his shoulder affectionately. “See? You need to laugh more often. It suits you.”

Rolan groaned, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “You two… are absolute menaces,” he muttered, but there was no real bite to his words.

Cal released him, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Guess we’ll just have to annoy you more often then. Can’t have you turning into a grumpy tower hermit.”

“I am not grumpy.” Rolan huffed with a smile still lingering on his lips. 

Both of his siblings giggled. “Yeah, not anymore.”

A/N: I had another crappy week and sat down to write something really quick. I couldn't decide between the current title or "Hug Me, Brotha!", which would've been inspired by my favorite show growing up: Drake and Josh. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the story. I have something in the works for Zevlor too; but like most of my stuff, I don't know when it'll be posted 😅

...Okay bye 🏃🏿‍♀️

[satinsnakesworld]

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ Headlocked ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆

Synopsis: Tav and Rolan get their horns locked together.

Pairing: Rolan x Fem! AFAB! Tav Reader

CW: Flirting/Fluff, Tension, Cursing, nothing too heavy just an introduction into the yearning between the two lol, 1.5k words, my goodness this was meant to just be <500 drabble

A/N: Hey!!!!! Here is a new drabble/ first official one-shot. I've been thinking about this exact scenario in my head with either a druid tav with horns/antlers or a tiefling tav, and since starting my first playthrough as a tiefling, I decided to finally write something up! Anyway, I'm just going to refer to them as horns in this. But thank you so much for reading and more to come, Enjoyyy!!! ♡ also, this is not proof read just me typing and a grammarly to get me through this :D

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆

Sourcer Sundries had just closed for the late evening. The doors were locked, most items returned, and the candles were around the lower level dimly lit and most even extinguished. Tav was finishing her final book. Rolan had left her to search through tomes and countless smaller books and schools. She mentioned briefly about just trying to find out more about certain rituals and common spells. Tav stood up from the small desk in a side room on the floor level and returned the final books she had left. Sighing deeply, she clutched one book to her chest and began the walk up to the personal quarters of the large shop.

At the top of the stairs, she stepped through the ward that transported her to the section. Tav continued walking down the main corridor that started down a hallway to the kitchen, Rolan's office, and other rooms she hadn't yet explored. The bedrooms were housed a level above the floor that she was currently on. Tav thought that the items in the book were worth mentioning to Rolan, something he must have already known but still worth mentioning. She walked toward the door of Rolan's office, once at the door she softly knocked. "Rolan?".....

She waited a moment or two before there was no response. Tav shrugged before she turned back to the corridor and started to walk toward the kitchen. She glanced down at the book she held in her arms, continued walking, and read the title once again. Before she knew it, she crashed into a wall of smooth, leathery skin. Dropping the book and hearing a clattering as well. "Tav?...." Her eyes shot up to the wizard before her. "Rolan? What are you doing out here? I thought you were going over scrolls in your office..." They shared a couple glances at each other, Rolan taking in Tav's exhausted state from rummaging through texts all day. Tav took in the semi-relaxed shoulders of the tiefling, he had on a pair of trousers and a robe tied at the waist. His chest slightly showed from the loose-fitting fabric.

"Oh my! I'm so sorry!" At that moment, looking elsewhere, Tav remembered the dropped items. At the same time, Rolan also goes to reach for the dropped book while Tav reaches for the saucer that was in Rolan's hands before the collision. "No, no... I wasn't paying attention either.."

The two of them bang their heads on each other as both reached down at the same time. The thud of their horns colliding into each other's horns reverberates through Tav's skull. "Shit!" Tav whimpers, as Rolan groans "Zurgan!.."

At that moment, Tav tries to reel her head back from the collision and feels a sharp tug on her head. Glancing up to their horns that are now twisted together. Rolan looks up at the same time, attempting to pull his horns from hers.

" Ow Stop!" Tav groans as her face lurches closer to Rolan's, noticing the slight blush on his cheeks. He stops his attempt to free them to scan her face, another quiet clatter can be heard behind him.

"Maybe if you stopped moving...We would get somewhere with this." He stares at her, his blush creeping toward his ears as one begins to grow on Tav's face. Tav breaks the stare between the two of them to glance behind him, noticing a tea cup rolled a couple of feet away from them. When and how did he even catch that??? she thinks.

Rolan attempts to pull his horns from hers while she awkwardly shifts. That causes Rolan's tail to go pin straight the second the base of their horns rub together. Tav swears she heard a low whimper come from Rolan, but at this point, it could come from either of them.

"E..Enough!" Rolan stutters out as the two let out frustrated sighs. "We will sit and wait for Cal and Lia to get back to help. One of us will break a horn if we keep trying this..."

He huffs out defeatedly, Tav lets out another sigh and they slowly begin to sit in the hallway together. The horns locked together forcing the proximity between them to slowly close up.

"How long do you think til they're back?" Tav asks quietly to him.

"Roughly half an hour or so, they left early to meet with the others down at the elf song.." Rolan replies looking off into the shadowed parts of the hall.

"Well, I can at least show you what I found while we wait," Tav says with a slight smile to try and make light of the situation they're both in.

"Very well.." Rolan sighs as Tav begins to reach for the book she had dropped before Rolan's tail makes the extra distance to bring it closer to them without moving their heads.

"Thank you," Tav glances at him and smiles again before opening up to the page she had tabbed to show him.

The pair sit together in the quiet hall, reading together from the book sat in Tav's lap, patiently waiting for his brother and sister to arrive back from their night out. As they get further into the book and begin to make comments with each other about the contents, Rolan's tail sways methodically back and forth behind them in a manner close to a satisfied cat. Tav's head starts to lull closer to Rolan's head, relief coming in the small form of looser tension on their horns.

The small bubble of comfort they found in their situation is suddenly popped by the laughter and giggling coming from the end of the corridor. Both Tav and Rolan suddenly sit up straight, yanking on their horns once more and whining as they do so. Cal and Lia look down the hall to see the pair sitting close to each other near the entrance of the kitchen.

"Well, well, well... What in the nine hells do we have here?" Cal says amusingly, as Lia and him slowly come closer to the pair.

"Our horns are well.. locked... Can you please just help us?" Rolan says exasperatingly, gesturing up to the connected points on their heads. Tav sneaks a glance at Lia, who is standing behind Cal, barely holding it together to hold back her laughter at the sight.

"Yeah, I suppose we can... Come on Lia, " Cal replies with a slight smirk. Lia positions herself behind Tav, while Cal gets behind Rolan, the two assessing the best way to remove each other, and wrapping their hands around the respective horns.

"Alright... We're gonna count to three, and Tav, I want you to push your head down on three, Rolan you're going to move it upwards on two, " Lia tilts her head to the side at Cal's thinking, still slightly giggling at the sight before her.

"One," The two begin to count with each other as Tav and Rolan brace their hands on wood tiles below them

"Two," Rolan begins to lift his head upwards,

"Three!" The two exclaim while Tav throws her head downwards. There is a slight scraping sound before the horns free themselves of each other. Rolan and Tav both softly moan with pleasure as the stress is no longer being put on their horns. In Tav's attempt to throw her head downward, she put too much force into it and ended up falling onto her stomach on the floor. At this point, Lia is full-blown, cackling and clutching her stomach as Rolan comes to stand beside his brother. Cal leans down to help her up.

"Thank you," Tav smiles weakly while the blush of embarrassment creeps up the back of her neck. She dusts off her skirt while Rolan is blushing and whispering something in his brothers ear before he says,

"Thank you both. Goodnight. Tav, I'll speak more with you tomorrow."

He curtly nods at Tav before spinning on his heels and practically bolting for the stairs up to the bedrooms.

Cal and Lia exchange their glances with each other having a silent conversation before Lia turns to Tav.

"Since it's late, you can just spend the night here, we have plenty of rooms. " She says softly with a smile.

"Are you sure, I dont want to impose more than i already have?" Tav asks cautiously.

" Nonsense! You always have a room here, I'll bring you some clothes to sleep in and some towels to wash up if you'd like just go get settled." Lia smiles with her reply and brings an arm around Tav's shoulder.

"Thank you, Lia," Tav smiles at her and steps out to the warm embrace, picking up her book and starting her way to the stairs. Behind her, she can hear Cal and Lia beginning to speculate what happened as they pick up the tea cup and saucer off the ground and make their way into the kitchen. Small fits of laughter between the two of them echo up the stairs as Tav makes her way to one of the spare bedrooms.