#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

[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.")

[lemonsrosesandlavender]

Rolan finding Tav's sketchbook and sees beautiful (and spicy) drawings of himself?

Rolan’s often noticed Tav drawing. They like to stop by the Sundries and sketch the customers, and though there’s really no need for him to man the desk when the projection’s working, he always hurries down as soon as Cal and Lia happen to mention that they’re there.

Sometimes, they’ve asked to sketch him too. They’re genuinely very good; it’s surprising to him that such powerful, warhammer-wielding arms are also capable of such dexterity. (A relief, too, since Rolan knows all too well that white lies are not his strength. More than one youthful relationship was nipped in the bud by his tactless comments, and though he’s more careful about it now, the strain shows on his face whenever he’s required to be nice about a customer’s tasteless outfit or a revolting bottle of gifted wine).

Truly, Tav is more than very good. Watching their skilled fingers weave across the page sends flickers of heat down Rolan’s spine. He did his best for so long not to admit his crush, but there’s no denying it now. What he’d like those hands to do, how he’d like to submit to their ministrations, teasing him, stroking him - Gods, he has to stop thinking about it, because his cheeks are growing a little too hot for comfort… and Tav’s eyes wander briefly down from his face to his groin -

‘Give me that,’ Rolan snaps, hastily clenching his thighs. ‘If you’re finished.’

They are finished, they tell him with a smile, though they ignore his outstretched hands and simply show him the page, grasping the edges of the notebook tight.

‘Very well done,’ Rolan concedes.

‘Helps to have such a beautiful model.’

No, no, no - he is not blushing to the temples, even if it feels like he must be. ‘Well, let me have a closer look, then.’

Tav’s smile abruptly tightens, and they shake their head, their expression suddenly closed. Rolan frowns, wrongfooted. Don’t they want him to appreciate their work? He wishes he had practised flirting more. It’s been a long time since there was someone he truly wanted to impress, and apparently he is no good at it.

‘Oh, sorry,’ they say, and laugh. ‘Don’t worry, it’s just there’s a few private notes in here, so I don’t let anyone else touch it.’

That… should not be as tempting as it is. Rolan’s fingers itch to flip through those pages. Not from any nefarious motive. He just wishes he could know them better. Beyond a wish; it’s a yearning. There are so many questions he wants to ask them, so many things he wants to know. He needs them… but he just can’t say it.

It’s not his finest moment, then, when next time they enter the shop he does not come down to greet them. Instead, as they browse the shelves, he winces at his own terrible judgement, hiding behind a convenient bookshelf, and summons a mage hand to sneak the painfully tempting book from their pocket. Even the mage hand looks embarrassed, curling up on itself as it skulks up to their open pack. It slams the offending item in his lap and poofs out of existence as if it couldn’t bear another moment in his company.

Rolan’s heart is already pounding. Just a little peak, he tells himself, and opens the book. Pages of beautiful vines and mushrooms and flowers. Owlbears and eagles. The faces of many of their companions - Wyll, Halsin, Lae’zel. His heart relaxes, and then sinks. A little disappointing, really. He should probably put it back before he does find anything… just one more page or two…

A drawing of him… another drawing of him… studies of his face and tail and claws, executed with such attention to detail he feels almost stared at, though there’s no-one here but the page. Gods, their gaze must have lingered over him for so long, to conjure such exquisitely observed visions. His neck prickles with heat, excitement building once more. Just one more page…

He nearly drops the book.

‘Zurgan!’ he curses aloud, and then slams his hand over his mouth. This picture… it’s him, barely dressed, draped in just the tiniest piece of fabric to make him decent. Although the bulge underneath it makes it rather moot. Gods… are they thinking about him like this? It’s not entirely accurate, but then they’ve never seen him with his clothes off; never seen all of the ridges that mark his Hells-touched skin. He feels undressed anyway, burning with shame and lust.

Hissing the mage hand incantation, he thrusts the book closed and shoves it back in their bag as quickly as he can. They jump a little and look round, startled; but fortunately they don’t see him. Wretched Hells. Rolan can’t even begin to piece together how he feels, but one thing is certain; his cock is ragingly hard, and he can think of nothing else until he’s hidden away in his room, crying Tav’s name aloud with such urgency he doesn’t even bother to strip off his clothes.

Gods. He slumps against the wall, robes soaked in come, and buries his face in his clean hand. He has to admit this to them. To clear the air. To ask if - he dare not ask if - but surely they want to, if they dream of him like that? But it was outrageous of them to draw him like that, without asking. The Master of Ramazith’s Tower deliberately chooses not to volunteer for any anatomical drawing classes. The very thought of disrobing like that, to be picked over and studied, humiliates him to the core; but perhaps that is also why the heat flooded him so strongly, why he came so desperately hard…

His jaw sets on a resolution. He must bring it up to them. Demand an explanation. Tell them never to imagine him like that again. Well… perhaps not that last one. Gods damn it. This is exactly why he was going to maintain a polite silence on the subject of wanting to be fucked senseless by them, for the rest of his life if necessary. It was much simpler for everyone involved.

Alas, when next they walk into the shop, his tongue quite disobeys him.

‘Hello, Rolan,’ they say cheerfully, and though they linger for a moment, they simply nod and head for the potion shelves.

‘Ah - don’t you want a model? I mean. Have you - been drawing lately?’

‘Not much in the mood for drawing today,’ they say with a smile, and his face crumples in a frustrated frown.

‘You seemed to be very enthusiastic last time,’ he snaps.

Tav’s brow furls. ‘Is there… something the matter?’

‘No,’ Rolan retorts. ‘Be on your way. I wouldn’t want to detain you any longer.’

Their hand pats up against the sketchbook in their pack. Guilty, Rolan thinks with some satisfaction. Satisfaction that dies a rapid, bloodied death as he remembers that he doesn’t want this to end in an argument. How exactly he sees it ending, he’s not sure… though his breath catches as they take a step closer and murmur under their breath.

‘Are you alright? Have I done something to upset you?’

‘No.’ Rolan bites his lip as he looks into their concerned eyes.

‘Rolan,’ they mutter, looking slightly frustrated themselves. ‘Come on.’

‘Come on what?’

Rolan stifles a groan as he says it. That did not have quite the sarcastic bite he intended. Tav’s mouth twitches in amusement, despite the situation.

‘Come on, I know you well enough by now. You’re not happy with me.’

‘Are you sure you don’t need a model?’ he snaps. ‘A… nude… one perhaps?’

He can feel the heat scorching him again, but the words are out now. And Tav looks immediately, uncharacteristically embarrassed.

‘Oh fuck.’

‘Oh fuck, indeed,’ he mutters.

‘Rolan - I’m so sorry. But, wait, how did you know? Did you - that was what I felt last time I was here!’

‘Ah.’ He winces, and then hastens to get the next word in. ‘It’s your fault. You should never have brought it in here. You should never have drawn me like that!’

‘You shouldn’t have looked through my sketchbook!’ Tav fires back, but even before they finish, their face twists with guilt. ‘Look. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have drawn you like that. And I certainly never meant for you to see it.’

Rolan slumps a little from his defensively sharp posture, his arms loosening from their crossed shield around his chest. ‘Apology accepted. I suppose.’

‘Why did you look?’ Tav asks gently.

He rakes his claws over his bicep. ‘I… I wanted… I mean… I thought that picture was…’

There’s a distinct whisper of rushed breaths, coming from his own mouth, and they distract him. What was he trying to say?

‘I wanted to know you.’

‘You can always ask. Whatever you want to know, I’ll always want to tell you.’

‘You didn’t ask me!’

‘You’re right,’ they say quietly. ‘I should go.’

‘Wait. Don’t go. Is there… anything you want to…’

‘Ask you now?’ they interrupt, a flirtatious smile suddenly stealing onto their face. ‘Why, is there something you want me to?’

Rolan opens his mouth, thinks better of it, and closes it again. ‘Well, if you’re going to be difficult.’

‘Who’s being difficult? You know you could ask me, if you wanted me to do something. Like… draw you naked.’

Rolan finds himself leaning back on the counter for support, ruffling a pile of Prestidigitation pamphlets so thoroughly that several of them breeze to the floor.

‘Ah - I… would have to think about it.’

Tav stands up from collecting the pamphlets, and somehow they’re just a little bit closer than they were before, their mouth so temptingly close -

‘Yes!’ Rolan says suddenly. ‘Yes - I want you to draw me like that. Please.’

‘Hmm. Then I will. With pleasure. Is there anything else you’d like?’ Tav asks teasingly.

‘Well…’ Rolan starts, and never finishes, because somehow they’re kissing in the middle of Sorcerous Sundries, his claws seizing handfuls of Tav’s shirt and their dexterous fingers already curling in his hair. A few, rather surprised, murmurs and giggles break out amongst the customers.

‘Fuck,’ he gasps, and then corrects himself. ‘I mean. Zurgan. Let me -’

They almost fall through the arcane portal he conjures to his bedroom.

‘Go on then,’ Tav murmurs, pulling out their sketchbook. ‘Show me what I’m working with.’

[fic--writer]

Rolan x Fem!Reader. Friday's Smut.

Attention ⚠️🔞: Smut, NSFW!

It was damn hard, but you did it. But now all you needed was a relax.

The Last Light was not so crowded that night. Many were still licking their wounds or just resting in their rooms.

Rolan caught your eye. He stood at the bar, cleaning up the remains of the mess he had made the day before.

As you approached him, he looked over his shoulder and said:

"Oh, it's you. Have you changed your mind about the reward, or have you decided to apologize for this?"

He lifted his sleeve and showed you the huge dark bruise on his arm that he'd gotten after you'd thrown the heavy bag of coins he'd offered you for saving your brother and sister.

"No, I have no regrets," you said, jumping onto the counter he had so carefully polished. "How are Lia and Cal?"

"Well, first I fed them, then they washed for half a day, and then they fell into a fitful sleep. They need some time to recover, prison of absolutes is not the best place on earth, thank you."

"What about you?" you picked up the bottle of wine and twirled it in your hands,

"first you drank out of sorrow, and now you drink out of joy? Can't you relax any other way?"

"I hardly drank today, I just decided to clean up a bit, but what do you mean?"

You looked slyly into his golden eyes and raised the neck of the bottle to your lips, drumming playfully with your tongue. The remains of the sour wine tickled your receptors.

The gesture left no room for misinterpretation, and the tiefling reacted immediately:

"Zurgan!" he said, not in disgust, but in surprise.

"Just because you refused my money doesn't mean I'm your whore, Tav!"

The tiefling grumbled and fidgeted, pretending to go through rags.

You put the bottle down and decided to change your strategy:

"I didn't mean it like that. I just thought, oh, hell..." The revelation was not easy for you.

"You thought what? That since you're all heroic now, you can just take whatever you want? I appreciate it, Tav, but I'm not your stupid toy. You know, maybe you should go see Astarion, he seems to have a similar... mindset."

Rolan's nostrils flared, especially when he mentioned the vampire, and the rags he'd been carefully folding crumpled in his hands.

"No, hell it, just hear me out. To be honest, I thought I could have died any damn second and I'll probably leave this world soon because of that fucking worm in my head. So I thought, what's wrong with spending the night with someone you like and are attracted to?"

Rolan had listened with interest, he had stopped cleaning and now turned his whole body towards you.

"I mean, sure, if you're grossed out by me and I'm not your type, say so. But if you like me even a little bit, then..."

There was a noise, Jaheira had come back from the street and slammed the doors, and you dropped to a whisper:

"Then let's spend the night together. Just one night. And who knows what will happen to us next. Maybe we'll never see each other again."

Rolan stared at you predatorily, and you could not read his thoughts. The tiefling's tail whipped audibly through the air.

"I sleep in a room with my brother and sister," he finally squeezed out.

"Got it. Well, I'll drown myself in shame in Chionthar as soon as I get to the city. Sorry." - You hurried to jump off the counter and get away, but a clawed hand stopped you.

"I sleep in a room with my brother and sister. So give me your room number."

"Number two hundred and three," you replied practically with your lips.

Jaheira came closer and you broke free of the tiefling's grip and hurried to your room to avoid witnesses.

Rolan knocked softly twenty minutes later, good, you had time to tidy up. When you opened the door, you met his worried look, as if he hadn't expected anyone to open the door.

Rolan came in and said, not knowing how to begin:

"So you like me and are attracted to me?" - He asked incredulously.

"I am. Your devotion to your family and your loyalty to your goals strikes me to the core. I've never met anyone who cares so selflessly and sincerely for their loved ones and pursues their dreams with such perseverance."

No matter how eloquently you wanted to describe your feelings, your tongue was barely listening and your mind was elsewhere.

You put your hands on the desk behind you, and Rolan took a step toward you.

"I don't remember hearing so many kind words from someone," he grinned smugly.

"I'm sorry you have to hear them from a dying girl. But I don't want this to be a night of regrets" - you opened your nightgown and Rolan wrapped his arms around your neck.

"That's not going to happen," he pressed his lips greedily against yours, as if he'd been waiting for this for so long.

But just because he had agreed to share your bed, it did not mean that he intended to be affectionate or gentle with you.

The Tiefling turned your back to him as he hurried to remove his pants. It was as if he was ashamed of his own body and didn't want you to look at it.

You, as a human with no experience with tieflings, had little understanding of how this should happen and just decided to trust him and give yourself to the moment.

He threw off your robe and pulled back the fabric of your panties, positioning his cock at your entrance. You stretched out on the table. Everything happened without foreplay, fast and furious. He gripped your neck tightly with his hands during his powerful thrusts.

A low moan escaped his throat when he was finished. And then he just got dressed and left silently, leaving you alone like his used whore.

You spent the next day thinking about it, trying not to leave the damn room to avoid awkward encounters. The bruises on your neck still hadn't healed.

There was a hurried knock at the door and you opened it carefully, hiding behind the door. It was him.

"Tav, I wanted to, I... Zurgan," Rolan chewed his lip and put his fingers to the bridge of his nose when he saw your bruises.

You gestured for him to come in.

"Gods, Tav. I'm sorry about yesterday. It's been so long since I've done anything like that. And you know I haven't done it with humans. I thought I was just being a fun animal for you, but I couldn't resist the temptation.. Hells, I can't do anything right. Not a damn thing! I'm just a dirty pig. I'm so sorry." - The tiefling held out a healing ointment to you.

You nodded understandingly and accepted the ointment, grateful for the revelation but still not satisfied.

"Rolan, I would never treat you like a circus animal. After all, I have no idea how you could think that. But I understand..." - Your heart clenched at the memory of how the Tieflings were treated in the grove and the other places you knew.

"Really? I thought, I thought maybe you'd give me, us... a second chance? And I wouldn't be such a pig to you, I promise," he raised his eyebrows and waited for an answer.

You looked at him in amazement; you didn't think he would talk to you, let alone apologize. And the thought of having to earn your forgiveness was so tantalizing...

A gentle nod made him exhale in relief, smile, and embrace you.

He kissed each of your cheeks, your temples, your lips. He held you in his arms like your most precious treasure.

Rolan caressed your collarbone with his hot tongue, never missing a millimeter.

He moved lower and lower, massaging your breasts, and you watched with pleasure. Well, if he really wanted your apology, he would have to work for it! You asked for more and more and he didn't dare to refuse you.

You pulled him down on the bed and laid on your back.

Rolan undressed you both and drew circles and zigzags with his tongue over your belly, your thighs, and then your vulva and clit.You moaned shamelessly, enjoying what was happening. The Tiefling satisfied you mercilessly with his searing tongue until you shivered. Well, the apology was accepted, almost.

"Rolan, please..." - You sobbed pitifully.

"Please what?" - He looked away, just to hear you out.

"I want you inside," - you begged.

Rolan's smug rumble could be heard and he immediately climbed on top of you.

Now he took his time penetrating you, savoring every cell of your wet vagina. You finally felt him properly and enjoyed his aroused face right above you, holding his hair. You exchanged lustful, trusting glances and it pleased you.

You came again when he sped up the rhythm and decided to thank him. You jumped up on your knees and took his quivering end in your mouth and sucked on it vigorously.

Rolan moaned for the whole building to hear and came all over your face and hair. You wiped your face and relaxed as you fell into bed with him.

Lia's screams could be heard:

"Rolan? Where did he go, I heard him scream, I think he's here!" She and someone else could be heard approaching quickly.

You said in confused:

"Rolan, you closed the door behind you, didn't you?"

He just looked at you sharply with widened eyes and jumped up, trying to find his pants.

You wrapped yourself in the blanket and headed for the door to lock it, but Lia was faster.

She burst into the room ready for battle, ready to defend her brother. Cal ran in after her.

"Brother! Did you scream? Where the hell did you go, we couldn't find you half the night."

Rolan appeared before them, pulling his pants up his ass in vain. Looks like it's time for a bigger pair of pants. And Tav, wrapped in a blanket, trying in vain to brush her hair back with the palm of her hand. And shamefully hiding her face at the same time.

The scent of sex hit Lia's nose and she moaned infernally.

"What the hell..."

Cal, who had realized before she did, grabbed her elbow:

"Let's leave them sis, our help is not needed here."

Next chapter

[roastedoatmilk]

Let The Light In

Rolan x Fem Tiefling Tav (Sybil)

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

word count: 3.4k

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

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

One

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sybil approaches Rolan again, curious about the stubborn tiefling. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Four

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Five

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Plus one

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[sgsy1005]

[kimberbohwrites]

Rolan Headcanons

*Moving in with Rolan*

-Tav and Rolan have been together for some time. While they used to split their evenings evenly between both of their homes, they’re mostly at the Tower every night now. It’s nothing nefarious, both of their responsibilities and relationships keep them nearer to the Tower than Tav’s home outside the city.

-The guest room in the Tower that was originally Tav’s is essentially serving as a storage area for their belongings now. Tav sleeps with Rolan most nights in his bed. Rolan has even cleaned off the nightstand on their side of the bed so that Tav can leave what they need in his room.

-Rolan assumed this is how couples move in together. Because of his upbringing, he has no reference in his life, for how a healthy relationship progresses and unlike his siblings, he doesn’t have many friends from whom he could learn these things.

-Tav is also not a relationship expert and has been too anxious to ask Rolan where they stand. She’s not sure if they live together, or if she just sleeps in his room a lot and she has no idea how to broach the subject with him. She’s sure to be respectful of his space and his boundaries, always calling things ‘his’ like his bed and his room, it’s his home.

-It isn’t until Cal and Lia intervene over breakfast that Rolan realizes that he’s gone about things wrong.

- “So, when are you two finally going to move in together?” One of the siblings blurts out over breakfast one morning when the four of them (Rolan, Tav, Cal, and Lia) have all just been seated. Tav’s face flushes and Rolan chokes into his teacup.

- “We do live together, zurgan” He defends himself — causing Tav to choke next and blurt out “we do?!”

- “Do we not?!” He responds, matching her confusion.

-When Tav and Rolan work out their miscommunication, the confusion and frustration dissipate almost instantly. Neither of them has ever done anything like this before, moved in with a partner and they each understand the confusion and anxieties of one another.

-Cal and Lia have snuck away, having once again successfully conned their so-called genius of a brother into confronting his feelings like a normal person. They know better than to stay and see the resolution of his and Tav’s discussion.

- “So do you want to live with me, here, together?” Rolan finally asks with an air of nerves about him.

-Tav smiles and kisses him in response, whispering “yes” when she finally pulls away for air.

-There are many things to be worked out, like what to do with Tav’s home — but those are future problems as Rolan pulls Tav into his lap, his tail coiling around her leg.

- “Let’s go back upstairs” he groans into her neck as he mouths kisses against it, “to our room.”

[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 🏃🏿‍♀️

[angele-darliing]

Zurgane caught my attention as I watched ninja storm