#but I wish zevlor did to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

avocado-writing · 8 months

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Okay, I've had this idea bouncing around in my head, waiting for you to reopen suggestions, haha. How do you think the Origins Companions + Halsin, Rolan, Dammon, and Zevlor would react if they found out that Tav had been hiding a very serious injury from them? The kind of injury where Tav is convinced that they're fine and they don't want to worry anyone with something they can handle on their own, especially the people they care most for, but as they try to ignore the injury it only gets worse until it's potentially life threatening and they can't keep up the facade anymore. I will leave it up to you whether or not Tav and the other individual are in a romantic relationship. I think both ways have potential for wonderful angst 😆

ooohhh noooooo! but also oh yes, LOVE this sort of angst lol. written as if you have had an infection come on from an injury. this is gonna be a long list so let's buckle up...

Astarion

really tries to hide his panic but fails miserably.

can't help but start snapping - how could you keep something like this from him?

you try to give your excuses but he waves them away, angry, but mostly because he's terrified that he might have lost you.

if he has any healing potions he helps you take them, if he doesn't he immediately... sources some from somewhere.

holds you as tight as he dares, worried that he will aggravate the injury otherwise.

as you begin to heal and drift off to sleep he spends the whole night watching you rest, making sure that you're still breathing, still safe. doesn't mind when you cuddle up to him in the night, sleepily.

Gale

curses himself for not noticing your condition. he's a wizard, damn it! he's meant to be bloody perceptive.

wishes for the first time ever that he didn't just know wizard spells. wishes he knew how to heal, too.

makes you as comfortable as he can while he finds a book about what he can do for an infected wound, probably swallowing his pride and going to Shadowheart if it's bad enough.

you manage a weak, "Gale, you don't have to--", and he cuts you off, "if you're going to insist that I don't have to look after you, I'm telling you that I do."

fixes you something to help with the pain and infection, makes sure you drink it all despite the horrid taste, then tucks you into his bedroll to let you rest.

when you go to reach out and cuddle him he slips into your arms, presses his lips to your hair, and whispers as you fall asleep about how much you scared him. about how he'd never be able to lose you.

Lae'zel

only realises how unwell you are when you fall over mid-journey.

"tsk'va! why did you hide the extent of your injuries from me?"

hauls you onto her back and carries you back to camp, muttering about your foolishness the whole time.

makes you comfortable in her tent and uses her knowledge of githyanki medicine to help start healing you.

it isn't comfortable as she works on your infection but for the first time you feel her hands being soft rather than vicious.

"you should not have kept this from me." "I know. I'm sorry." "hm. ridiculous thing. zhak vo'n'fynh duj."

goes and intimidates the camp into being quiet so you can rest. it works. this is the nicest she's ever been to you. you could get used to it.

Shadowheart

obviously this is not a huge problem for her, but she is still worried that it got so far without her noticing.

immediately heals you, pouring far too many spell slots into your body in order to get it up and running again.

it helps, immediately breaking the fever you've been nursing, and the touch of Shadowheart's hand to your face is cooling and reassuring.

"lady shar teaches us to embrace our pain... but not like this. you should have known better. you could have died."

her hand slips down to cup your cheek, you cover it with one of your own. she's telling you off but you can tell it's because she cares.

"I'm sorry that I scared you." "I know. don't do it again."

she smiles and the ache in your heart is lifted, too.

Wyll

panics.

you collapse on day in camp and he immediately calls on the others for help, not so proud as to be unable to admit when something is out of his knowledge. he is not a healer. he needs help.

he manages to catch you in his arms as you tumble, hugging you close to his chest while magic is worked or a healer checks you over.

lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding when you begin to stabilise.

helps you back to your tent to rest, gently chiding you but letting you know that he's glad you're alright.

when your hand weakly comes up to touch him, he indulges you in a kiss to let you know how relieved he is.

constantly watching you on the battlefield from that moment on. if he can help it, you'll never be hurt again.

Karlach

another panicker.

scoops you up in her arms and holds you to her chest, running to the tent of the nearest healer in camp - or, if you're in the city, kicking down the door of a local doctor.

begging the healer to check you over, but is reluctant to let you go. if she stops holding you it's like she's relinquishing control and that scares the life out of her.

you're healed and she feels you start to stir in her arms, peppering you with kisses of relief, choking through her tears that you're never to scare her like that again.

carries you back home, even if you're totally capable of walking. she just wants to make sure you're okay.

Halsin

sternly disappointed that you didn't tell him, but more annoyed that he didn't notice something was wrong himself. how could he not see how out of balance with nature you were?

squirrels you away to his tent to heal you, make you soothing and medicinal teas, his big hands over the source of the infection.

you burrow into his touch, into his chest, and you end up sitting in his lap as he heals you.

he wants to tell you off a little, but is more relieved that you're alright. encourages you to share all your burdens with him.

kisses you on the forehead, then on the mouth when he's sure you're strong enough for it not to knock you flat.

Dammon

my poor boy is just a blacksmith, so though he doesn't exactly panic, he does scoop you up and try to find a healer as soon as he can.

waits quietly and nervously as you are examined, silently cursing himself for being too busy to see how you were hurt. he's meant to be better than this. he's meant to love you, how didn't he notice?

when you come to he can't stop apologising, and it takes several of your kisses to soothe him and tell him it was not his fault but yours.

he makes you promise that you'll always tell him when you're hurt. has you look into his eyes and swear it.

he can't do much on the battlefield but he can protect you where he can.

Rolan

another one cursing that he doesn't know healing spells.

"you aren't meant to die, gods damn it! you're meant to be strong... what good am I if I can't keep you safe..."

rushes you to the best doctor in Baldur's Gate. pays for all the treatment that you could need. holds your hand at your bedside for your entire recovery... until you come back to consciousness, of course, at which point he just starts telling you off for being stupid enough to get into his mess in the first place.

you grab him by the collar and drag him down for a kiss. that finally shuts him up. but he never lets you forget how foolish you were.

Zevlor

practical but still worried about you.

you collapse in the field and he finds a safe place to hide the both of you from dangerous eyes, using his Lay on Hands ability to channel his magic into healing.

you try to apologise but a finger to your lips silences you, and all you can do is watch in quiet wonder as he burns the infection out with his Paladin's light.

when you're better he gently chides you. tells you that you have people relying on your leadership, and that a problem shared means there are more heads working on how to fix it.

when he sees how sorry you are lets you cuddle into him. when you say you'll repay him, he insists your happiness and well-being is enough for an old warrior like him.

does take the kiss you offer, though. he's been wanting to do that for a while...

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nightmarist · 11 months

Text

Some Zevlor Things —

EDIT 12/2/23: Added a few more things

A fellow Tiefling Hellrider, Tilses, is with him in the caves acting as his bodyguard. He sometimes calls her Tilly.

There is one bedroll in the caves shoved off in the far corner with a book titled "The Devil You Know: An Autobiography" - not sure if it's his personal writing or if he's reading it, either way it adds to the flavor of his of his tiefling pride (and/or anguish).

It reads:

Have you ever had a god change your blood? It is a horrifying thing, even for those who may desire it. Yet few tieflings wished for Asmodeus to claim their bodies, only be given no choice in the matter. It is not as if we were well-loved before the archdevil's gambit. Our people have always struggled against the notion of 'devilkin', as if a single drop of infernal ichor inescapably corrupts. How amusing, when so many others willingly sell their souls to fiends, yet their culture as a whole escapes the blame. By what method can we redeem ourselves, when the crime is not ours? I would drive a blade into every warlock that aided Asmodeus' damned ritual, but personal vengeance cannot undo the will of a god, much less one as slippery as the Lord of Lies. When every passerby thinks you a thief and heretic, it is deeply tempting to become one. (cut off) The only thing that has stopped me is knowing Asmodeus wants nothing more than for all of us to fall from grace.

Around the his table are Invasion Plans for Elturgard, Traveler's Guide to Baldur's Gate, Traveler's Guide to the Sword Coast Vol IV: The Risen Road (which aligns when he tells you earlier there are gnolls on the road), and "Front and Center: a Thespian's Memoir" that reads:

"... in fact, the greatest joy of my life hasn't been acting, but becoming. When you choose a character to play, you don't just wear a mask - you take a little bit of their soul for your own. Whoever you are in your heart of hearts, if only by the faintest note."

Zevlor aside I think this is a sweet quote for the player and player character relationship <3

Dialogue in the Caves:

Zevlor: I Hardly need a bodyguard, Tilses. This isn't Avernus. Tilses: No sir. At least the monsters there looked like monsters.

—

Tilses: Commander— Zevlor: Just Zevlor, Tilly. We're civilians now, remember? Tilses: With respect, sir — being a Hellrider is for life. They can't take — Zevlor: They can, and did. Avernus changed things — best we get used to that. Tilses: ... Yes, Zevlor

—

Tilses: The Watch or the Flaming Fist? Zevlor: Pardon? Tilses: When we get to Baldur's Gate. Where are we enlisting? Zevlor: I'm done soldiering, Tilly. I'd like a clean start. But go with the Watch. You're too honest to be a mercenary.

—

Zevlor: No word from the scouts, yet? Tilses: No sir. But if there's a clear path past the goblins, they'll find it. Zevlor: Yes, of course.

ITEMS —

in the Chest there is a bronze goblet, 46 gold, and a battle-worn blade. On his person he has his gloves (Hellrider's Pride), an apple, a camp supply pack, and the key to his chest.

The blade says:

A fine by well-used sword. It seemed to have once belonged to a holy order, but the indication of rank and patron deity at the hilt have recently been filed down.

The gloves' flavor text says:

A waft of sulphur emanates from this proudly-kept piece.

Celebration at the Camp:

"I should be out there, talking with them. In... Just a moment, maybe." "Is this everyone? Our numbers have grown so few..." "No more. I can't afford to lose any more of them." "No. Let them have fun. I'll be ruining it come morning anyway."

Mindfayer Colony:

Things he mumbles in the Pod:

The pod will show you his memories of Elturel:

After saving Zevlor, I forced myself to pick the "mean" options just to see how it goes.

If you tell him its his fault tieflings were imprisoned in moonrise, he says:

If you tell him "Do yo have a right to ask?" when he asks about the tieflings:

He doesn't argue with any of your remarks except one, when he says "For a moment I welcomed it" and you tell him "For a moment until you realized your reward would be a tadpole" he corrects you:

If you tell him if he wanted power he should live up to his own ideal:

If you tell him to get out of your sight:

When you tell him it's not his fault he was enthralled:

If you tell him "Fine. Good luck, Zevlor."

If you say you could use another blade in the fight to come:

At the Netherbrain:

(smiling <3)

"The journey has been brutal, but I stand here a Hellrider once more, and I would die a proud man if I died this day."

I know it's a Soldier thing to be proud to die for a cause but it still makes me worry for him given his background so far <:]

If you click on him, he has two unvoiced lines:

if you pickpocket him at this point, he'll have the same items on him as before (in this save he has a carrot instead of an apple for me).

His stats at this time: (Steeped in Bliss is from one of my items)

Post Game (Patch 5)

I don't know if there are other permutations of this letter, yet, but this is what I received:

I hope my penmanship has improved somewhat in the past months. When I first stumbled into this city, I shook so badly that I could scarcely hold the soup the priests pressed into my hands - let alone write and thank you as you deserve. It is only when the city itself began to shake that I felt my hands grow still. Along with the other veterans sheltering at the temple - discards of Elturel's 'unworthy' legions - I watched that monstrosity rise over the city. We felt no fear. Only anger. Disgust. Purpose - and with it, power. I do not know what oath we cling to now, or how long it will last - but we shall use it to ensure that this city will not suffer as Elturel did. Whether it wants us or not. It is more than thanks alone I owe. No words can make amends for what I did to my people, but that is as it should be. More come to the temple every day to aid in the relief efforts, and if I am permitted to work alongside them, then I am content. Come and see us, when you can. Zevlor

It's interesting — if not bitterswet, tragic, and inspiring — to hear that Zevlor and other Paladins regained their Oaths via pure, stubborn devotion to saving people when it began to look as bad as Elturel.

#zevlor #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #act 1 spoilers #act 2 spoilers #bg3 spoilers #this man reeks of self loathing i want to bathe him in love and comfort #i also want him carnally #act 3 spoilers #bg3 meta

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honest-moth-of-silver-grove · 4 months

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The Red Tieflings Bachelors (Rolan and Zevlor) Reacting to You (Tav) Thanking Them

Featuring: Rolan/Tav; Zevlor/Tav

A/N: Just a little something that popped into my mind while working to clear the writer's block. I was feeling very low the last week or two, so I apologize for my inactivity here. And then I was on vacation with my family. Thankfully, I’m feeling better now. (Currently working on Yandere! Alucard Part 4 and the next ask. Yan! Part 4 will probably take a while because it's long-form (not hc), so expect the ask after that to be posted first.)

Rolan

🔮 It was just another bustling day in Sorcerous Sundries when you decided to stop by, a newfound magical item in hand. To no one’s surprise, it appeared your favorite tiefling wizard was too busy sorting through the inventory of Ramazith's Tower to man his shop, seeing it was his programmed illusion who greeted you with a relatively uncharacteristic amiable tone.

“Welcome to the Sorcerous Sundries. Is there something in particular you’re looking for today?”

Knowing Rolan, in reality, his body was pacing around Razamith’s Tower, nearly tearing his hair out, as he obsessively mumbled, sorting through the piles and piles of books and scrolls Lorroakan had gathered in his time. The compelling image in your mind was such a stark contrast to the one before you, that you bit your lip to prevent your signature mischievous smile from dawning across your face.

“I believe Rolan left something upstairs for me.”

The illusion looked at you, eyes narrowed, presumably scanning its programming for an appropriate response. Yet, just as Rolan’s Projection opened his mouth to speak (in all probability to deny you entry) your conversation was interrupted by a boisterous halfling patron, hoisting an item that he declared comprised of defective magic.

Never one to waste a distraction, you took the opportunity to make your way up the stairs of Sorcerous Sundries to its second floor and into the correct portal leading to Razamith Towers.

Upon entering the portal, you were met with the familiar sound of Lia and Cal bickering with none other than the new proprietor of Sorcerous Sundries himself.

“If you simply spoke to them instead of pining inside this tower all day and night…” Lia went straight to the point as usual.

“I am not pining!” You could hear Rolan answer, in his usual defensive tone.

“I think what Lia means to say is, it would be easier for all involved if you were to simply ask them-” Always the mediator, Cal must have jumped in. It did not surprise you, seeing as how he was rather skilled when it came to talking his siblings down.

“Ask who what?” You interrupted, the concrete visage of Razamith’s Towers finally greeting you. Despite having known the tiefling family for months now, you were always amused by their antics. “Does Rolan have his heart set on an apprenticeship with yet another asinine wizarding master?” You had a feeling Cal and Lia were referring to something else entirely, but you’d prefer to speak to Rolan alone about that.

Rolan rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed by both your sudden presence and your insistence on teasing him. “I no longer require a master, nor a teacher. Lorroakan gathered enough magical books and knowledge within these walls for me to teach myself all I could ever wish to know.” Behind him, his pointed tail lashed sideways, always ending with an upward flick of the point. To a fellow tiefling, his irritation would have been quite obvious. Then again, you were not a fellow tiefling.

You nodded, ignoring Rolan’s wilful tone. You had become accustomed to his many displays of false irritation and indignation. More often than not, your headstrong ally was more bark than bite. “That may be,” you continued. “But in case it isn’t, I’ve brought you one more tome for your collection.”

Rolan’s entire posture, tail included, stiffened upon hearing your words. The tiefling wizard was in disbelief. A gift? For him? But, why?

Lia smirked, before elbowing Cal, whose own knowing expression soon followed suit, spreading across his face. Nodding to each other, two brother-sister duo walked off, leaving you and Rolan alone, standing in a near deafening silence.

“It’s a tome on the origins of The Weave, or, at least I think it is. That’s what Gale told me anyway.”

Rolan's previously erect shoulders slumped at the mention of your former traveling companion’s name. “Ah yes, Gale, The Great Wizard of Waterdeep. How is he faring these days?”

“Better,” you answered honestly. “It seems not living with a ticking time bomb just inside your chest does a man some good.”

Rolan brushed off your attempt at lightening the mood, pushing past you to a stack of unsorted books piled on an end table to your left. “I assume the two of you have kept in touch then?”

“Rolan!” You mock gasped. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

“Pfft, you’ve clearly let the title of Hero go to your head. Why would I be jealous of a mere professor at Blackstaff Academy when I possess an entire library of magical writings, a shop full of magical items, and several arcane cannons to defend all of the former?”

“He’s a very respected professor, and there’s something to be said for enjoying the simpler things in life.”

Rolan scoffed once again. “He had the power to be a God and turned it down. After enduring all your group did, taking on the shadow curse, fighting the goblins, destroying the Absolute, a job instructing ungrateful, know-it-all brats hardly seems like a reward.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “Well, it’s what Gale wanted. But I do have to wonder,” you slowly stalked towards the red tiefling, “If a very coveted and respected position of authority isn’t something you'd consider a reward, what exactly qualifies as recompense to the mighty Wizard of Razamith’s Tower?”

Slowly, you trailed a finger up along Rolan’s robed arm, delighting in the little gasp that slipped from his lips.

He both hated and loved how you could make him feel like this. How just one word, one look from you could leave him a needy, wanton mess, how he longed for you to step even closer, for his body to press up entirely against yours. In the back of his mind, he imagined what it would feel like for your strong weathered hands to run down his red infernal skin, but that time, with no gloves or thick robes in the way.

Rolan was certain you knew the degree of power you held over him. He was sure you delighted in pushing and prodding at his buttons, drawing out each one of your visits with flirtation and playful verbal sparring.

“What… about…a…?” you enunciated each word with another swipe of your finger across his robe’s velvety material, your face moving ever so slowly closer to his.

Finding his composure, Rolan shrugged off your advances with a shaky sigh. “Spit it out already. I don’t have all day.” Defiantly, he turned to face you, calling your bluff. His lips were mere inches from yours: red, plump, and just begging to be kissed.

Never one to back down from a challenge, you continued to press forward, pressing your lips to his.

With a breathy sigh, Rolan’s tension melted away as he melded his mouth back onto yours.

Reaching up with one hand, you cupped the back of his head, ever so gently pulling him even closer to you.

Rolan moaned into the kiss and moved to grab your waist, but before his hands could secure you in his grasp, you stepped away just as smoothly and silently as you had stepped forward.

Embarrassed and flustered, Rolan flashed you his pointy teeth in a frustrated groan. “Why must you tease me so? Have you not grown tired, frequently coming here just to pester me?”

You beamed, proud to see your previous suspicions confirmed. “No,” you stated, matter-of-factly. “It’s too much fun! Besides,” you held the book out for him to take. “You didn’t seem all that excited about my earlier thanks, and that simply wouldn’t do.”

Rolan rolled his eyes, accepting the tome with a huff, his tail back to swishing violently behind him. “Was that what that was? And here I thought you were trying to come up with new ways to annoy me.”

“Annoy you?!” You mock gasped. “Surely my kiss was not that bad.”

“For a ‘thank you’, that kiss was highly inappropriate, it! Well…” he trailed off, his cheeks somehow blushing an even warmer shade of red.

You tilted your head, encouraging the tiefling to go on.

Rolan avoided your gaze, pretending to find interest in the book you had just gifted him. His voice was quiet, but also self-assured. “It was entirely too short of a kiss to count as a ‘thank you’. You might as well just have given me a peck on the cheek.”

Rolan continued flipping pages of the tome, doing his best to act uninterested in your kiss and your presence, even though the both of you knew all too well it was a lie.

“Don’t worry,” you started to take your leave, giving Rolan a playful pat on the shoulder. You paused for a moment, leaning into his ear to whisper, “I’ll make sure the next time I pester you goes more in your favor.”

Watching your form retreat into the portal, Rolan brought a finger to lips, just ghosting along the surface you had latched onto not seconds before.

Emerging from their eavesdropping positions, Cal and Lia could not help but give Rolan a pair of mischievous smiles.

Watching as the whirls of the portal spun around you, you overheard one last bit of conversation just before your body was transported back to the upper floor of Sorcerous Sundries.

“Not one word,” Rolan warned, his stern body language failing to conceal the pleased sound within his voice.

“Told you to just ask them out.”

“Lia!”

Zevlor

⚔️ It had been some time since you defeated The Absolute. Of course, despite the changing season, much of Baldur’s Gate was in need of repair and renovation. While Halsin had taken many refugees to his new settlement in Reithwin, a part of the former Shadow-Cursed Lands, many chose to remain in the city and restart their lives there. Being a frequent flyer of the city yourself, you found it easy to visit those who chose to stay behind. One such individual, a former Hellrider called Zevlor, was someone you found yourself visiting more than the others.

You shifted the rather large rectangle basket within your grasp, moving it so it rested within the crook of your left arm as you freed your right hand, before raising it to knock upon the unmarked door before you. Faintly, you could make out whispered gossip floating up from the stairs behind you, but you paid the hushed voices no mind. Sure, to outsiders it may have seemed odd that the savior of Badlur’s Gate was so keen on visiting the same acquaintance, one who resided in such simple dwellings, but to you the luxury afforded as a hero and adventurer paled in comparison to a good conversation between friends.

‘Friends’. The word echoed in your head, like a schoolmarm repeating the dishonest words of a misbehaved child.

In truth, you found yourself more drawn to the older paladin than perhaps you’d like to admit. You found your admiration and respect for the former Hellrider only grew with each passing visit, and now, there was hardly a day the tiefling did not fondly cross your mind.

Then again, those silly girlish feelings would no doubt ruin the peaceful nature of your current relationship with Zevlor, so you pushed them aside in favor of maintaining a friendship while pining rather than speaking your truth and risking having no relationship at all.

Hearing a shuffle of objects on the other side of the door, you smiled and released a breath you didn't know you were holding. It was just like any other day, there was no reason to get nervous now.

“Ah, Tav,” Zevlor opened the door with a soft smile, “Right on time, as usual.” Always the gentleman, Zevlor stepped back, holding the door open for you.

“My parents always said punctuality is a virtue,” you smiled, remembering their words fondly. “As much as I try to embody their lessons, this life doesn’t present many opportunities to do so, so I like to fit them in where I can.”

Zevlor hummed, closing the door behind you. “They must be proud of you. Not every parent can claim their daughter is one of the great heroes of Baldur’s Gate.”

Walking over to the settee just beyond the door, you took your usual spot seated on the right-hand side of the rather cramped sitting area. Despite being inside Zevlor’s home many times, you still found yourself amazed at how the tiefling managed to move around without knocking his tail into everything.

The furnished room Zevlor currently resided in was a single-room loft, settled above a rather quaint little cafe spot in the lower part of the city. It wasn’t much, and it had very little privacy, especially for visitors, but that was little concern of yours. And despite Zevlor’s constant apologies for the small space, you felt more at home seated inside his little apartment than you did your camp at times.

In the corner opposite the door, a cast-iron stove and a washing basin with a faucet were secluded just beyond a shutter-style room divider. You knew from previous visits that was where Zevlor always warmed the kettle for your meeting tea. Next to the settee you were seated on was a single dresser, about waist high. Upon it sat the few various plates and utensils Zevlor used daily as well as the collection of mismatched tea cups and teapots. And despite never seeing the inside of them, you assumed the drawers of the dresser housed his clothing and armor. Although, you must admit you were rather curious as to how he got his chainmail and breastplate to fit.

Directly across from the settee, on the opposite wall was a twin-sized bed, undoubtedly too small for the tiefling paladin, even if he was never one to complain. Zevlor always kept it neatly made, the sheets all tucked in evenly, almost as if no one had slept in it the night prior. You supposed he had no choice, if he wished to entertain guests, as there was no way for their eyes to avoid it. Then again, a part of you had a feeling that order and precision were just key elements of who Zevlor was. Despite no longer being a Hellrider, and having long broken his oath as a paladin, several of his attributes like discipline and respect went far beyond any former occupation or title.

Setting your surprise gift onto the wooden coffee/dining table before you, you answered Zevlor’s observation with a much more melancholy smile. “I’d like to think that, if they were still here, that yes, they’d be proud.”

Taken aback by your revelation, Zevlor’s face fell before he recanted. “Tav, forgive me. I did not know your parents had passed. But I do still believe that regardless of where their souls may be now, they are looking upon you with pride.”

Careful not to accidentally knock you with his tail, Zevlor retrieved the teapot, ready with tea already steeping, and two of the mismatched cups, before he returned to be seated next to you.

Due to the tight nature of the room’s layout, and the small stature of the settee, every visit between the two of you resulted in your knees touching. In the beginning, Zevlor was overly apologetic, insisting he could instead sit on the bed, and allow you to have the sofa all to yourself, but you insisted the proximity was more than fine. You knew many people still saw tieflings as devils, monsters, or hellspawns, but you were not among them. The tieflings were just like any other race you had encountered on your journey: they were simply doing their best to survive.

If anything, the hardships Zevlor and the tiefling refugees endured before arriving in Emerald Grove only made you respect them more. You were no stranger to hardship. You knew how difficult it was to have to get back up after you’ve been beaten; particularly how hard it was to accomplish the sixth or seventh time around, but it was something Zevlor managed to do with dignity when leading his people.

You knew he did not see it similarly, his mind having been temporarily corrupted by The Absolute, but you would have fared no better if it was not for The Emperor’s intrusion. Truth be told, few minds ever could have resisted such a powerful psychic force. And even though several of Zevlor’s former tiefling friends and allies held him in contempt to this day, you could not bring yourself to agree with them.

After the tea had been poured and sipped, your comfortable silence gave way to conversation.

“How long will you be in the city this time? Any adventures planned for the future?” Zevlor asked.

“I do have some news,” you admitted, placing your teacup down. “I’ve been thinking of this for a while now, but I needed some time to come to terms with it.”

Zevlor motioned for you to go on.

“Well, it’s been nearly seven months since our victory against The Absolute, against Gortash, Orin, and Ketheric Thorm. The former Shadow-Cursed Lands have blossomed into a new hope for so many people. I’ve thought about hanging up my adventurer’s hat. At least for now.”

“I see. And what will you do with all your spare time? Travel? The Sword Coast has much to see, or so I’m told.”

You shook your head. “I’ve been thinking of settling down.” You fiddled with your fingers, hands resting in your lap. “Maybe starting a family.”

“Oh,” came Zevlor’s deflated response. “I see.”

You placed a reassuring hand on Zevlor’s shoulder. “Don’t get me wrong, I love helping people. And I want to continue to do it. But I think I can do it differently, in a way where I can have both, ya know?”

Zevlor nodded, clearing his throat. “Yes, certainly. It makes sense. You’re young, you want to live life to the fullest but you also don’t want to live it alone. I understand perfectly.”

Seeing Zevlor’s downtrodden posture, you brought your hand down from his shoulder and placed it on top of his. “The reason I wanted to tell you was because, well, I was wondering if perhaps you’d like to come with me?”

Zevlor’s eyes snapped up. “I’m- I’m sorry?”

“I found a house, a cottage in east of Reithwin. It’s nothing fancy, and it’s most certainly in need of some major repairs but there are two rooms. It’d be away from the chaos of the city, in a town itself that is starting anew. I thought, there’d be a chance, you’d prefer those circumstances as opposed to living here.”

Zevlor swallowed harshly. “I’m not certain what to say. You’ve already been such a help to me and my people. You’ve forgiven me even after… I do not know if such an old tiefling like myself is worthy of such kindness.”

“Oh Zevlor,” you sighed, pulling the older man in for a reassuring hug. “You deserve this kindness and more. You’ve survived so much, and you’re the reason so many others have survived. You stood up and fought The Absolute’s Army when it descended upon the city. You could have hidden. You knew what kind of power it had, you knew all too well the way it could destroy your mind. But you chose to do the right thing. You’re incredibly brave, and I wish you could hear me say that and believe it.”

Letting Zevlor go, you could see the faintest bit of water welling up within his eyes. But to further spare the former Hellrider any embarrassment, you thought it best if you took this time to go.

Standing up, you carefully slid over the rectangle box towards Zevlor before making your way toward the door.

“What’s this?” Zevlor asked, taking a good look at the box.

“Oh, I saw them at the market the other day, and I wanted you to have them.”

“Tav, please,” Zevlor started, his hands held up in protest. “You’ve already given me so much. I couldn’t possibly-”

You cut him off before he could start his whole self-deprecating spiel up again. “It’s nothing big, just a token. I wanted you to have your own set. That way, even if you don’t wish to come along with me, we’ll be able to use and enjoy them when I come and visit you here.”

You opened the door, letting yourself out. But before you descended the stairs, you turned to face Zevlor one more time. “I’ll be at the Elfsong Tavern for a few more days, I have some things to get in order, some other people to see. I want you to know we’ll still be… friends if you don’t change your mind. Although,” you spoke, a relaxed smile upon your face. “I truly hope you will.”

You reached for the doorknob, pulling it closed behind you.

Zevlor waited, listening to your footsteps as your boots descended the stairs. When he was sure you were not going to return, his clawed fingers moved to carefully remove the top of the box, being mindful not to scratch the contents inside. Once the lid was off, the softest of gasps escaped his red lips.

Nestled in the box was a matching tea set: one teapot, three teacups, three saucers, one sugar bowl, and one cream pitcher. The rims of everything were painted to look gold, and the main design itself was a collection of watercolor flowers, each very dainty yet boldly elegant.

Gently, one of Zevlor’s hands grazed over his knee on the part where yours rested against his just moments ago.

“Friends,” Zevlor spoke aloud. The word repeated inside the Hellriders mind. But unlike the commanding voice of The Absolute, it was soft and sweet and entirely in your tone. And in its echo a second word emerged, although similar in sound and nature, the weight of it felt differently settled upon his heart.

‘Family,’ Zevlor thought looking down at the tea set you gifted him. ‘Yes, I do think I would like that.’

A/N 2.0: Can you tell how much of a soft spot I have for Zevlor? Related Fun fact I took a BG3 personality quiz once, and it said that I’m him due to my longtime suffering and constant masochist desire to keep doing the right thing even though life punishes me for it…

(个_个)

As always, please Like and most importantly, REBLOG!

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#rolan x tav #zevlor x tav #rolan x reader #zevlor x reader #rolan imagine #zevlor imagine #bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader #bg3

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vampiresfromxenon · 4 months

Text

Wine About It, Then.

Astarion x nonbinary! Reader/Tav

Around 3.7K words

Tags: Drunk individuals, p in v, tiniest bit of breeding kink (i -lovingly- blame Ruby fangswithbenefits), smut, literally just so smutty smut smut (Not dubcon! Clear consent only!!), aftercare :)

Summary: At the night of the tiefling party, after quite some time celebrating with your friends, you notice that Astarion has gone missing. Not wanting to leave him out of the fun, you set off into the woods, hoping to find him in his favorite little spot. Not only do you find him, you suggest you both experiment with something new… Something about your blood and the alcohol that has tainted your system. Wipe off your glasses, it’s steamy in here!

Pre-fic Author’s note: This is my first time writing smut ever- it was really strange and I’m obviously not familiar with writing it, but I really admire a lot of the writers whose smut I've read and enjoyed. Shout out to the many of you who inspired me to write this, I hope that everyone who reads it enjoys it :) As a gentle reminder, please be kind! I am just a tiny little guy who wanted to have a goofy romance with the charming video game vampire!!

It’s a night to celebrate, given you and your party have just made a clear and safe path for the tieflings of the grove to head to Moonrise Inn. Zevlor has thanked you countless times for this great gift, and to your surprise, even Rolan said something with a hint of gratitude. In order to give proper thanks, a party was organized in your honor as a way of sending off the Tieflings.

As the sun begins to set, corks pop, and dancing begins. Not wanting to waste a second with your companions, you set off on a mission to speak to everyone about your perilous adventures. Starting off with Karlach, your favorite fireball. The two of you chat about your time together, and how she really wishes she could give you a hug. Realizing just how impossible it is for the time being, you both settle for the next best form of affection she would accept: a beer chugging challenge.

…It’s no surprise that Karlach immediately out drunk you, but she applauded your trying efforts and was sure to let you know that she thought your wretched belch was nothing short of adorable.

Lae’zel was not one for the party, though she did find some enjoyment in the amount of tieflings approaching her to thank her and tell her how brave they thought she was. While she is prone to speaking her mind, and that is something you are very used to, you nearly spit out your drink when she admitted that she wanted to bed you on this night. With a smile, you politely declined. It wasn’t her feelings you were necessarily worried about, it was more so the knife she went on to sharpen that really gave you goosebumps.

Wyll was off by the coastline, admiring the view. He felt a bit self conscious about his looks and his troubles with Mizora that he thought it would be better if he avoided the party for the night. Not wanting to leave your friend feeling left out, you offered him a dance. He happily obliged, dancing with you in the sand for a few minutes before he begged you to leave him be and not let him ruin your night. While you insisted he wasn’t, you still left him to his privacy.

Gale was more than delighted to see you, especially since he wanted to show you just how many tiefling children he was impressing with minor magic tricks. When you joined in, his face lit up. It had become quite obvious just how drunk the wizard really was, and while you thought to maybe stop letting him light things on fire, you knew that things would be alright… Hopefully.

Shadowheart was off in her little tent area, enjoying the party from afar. She claimed she wasn’t really one for big parties, but deep down you know she’d throw ass if just enough alcohol was involved. After some time chatting, she invited you to enjoy a bottle of wine with her, and though you were about to agree, you realized exactly what that meant. You were flattered, to say the least, and it’s not to say that it hasn’t crossed your mind from time to time, but you already had someone else you felt connected to.

While you were sheepishly trying to turn her down, you looked behind you and noticed that Astarion was not outside his tent. In fact, he was nowhere to be seen. Before your drunk thoughts could connect, Shadowheart rolled her eyes and connected them for you.

“While you may not want to share a bottle of wine with me, it seems that someone else really wanted to. I saw him sauntering off into the woods with a couple bottles less than an hour ago.”

Connections began to form by the ton, and your face was overcome with a hot blush. Shadowheart, slightly tired of the two of you now, urges you to go after him, or at least stop being awkward in front of her. You head off between the trees, trying to find your lover.

Normally you’d find his normal hiding spot with ease, but being a little drunk makes things challenging. Was it the tree with the owlbear shaped moss that you turned left at? Or was that the jagged looking rock…? Before you can make a decision, you trip on an unseen root and nearly eat shit. You’re hero material, you are.

Luckily for you, a strong set of pale arms grabs you just before your face becomes one with nature. Before you can even react, you are scooped up and carried away, though it’s not more than a minute before you are set down to stand on your own.

Standing before you in the clearing is the gorgeous pale elf you’ve devoted all your passionate dreams to. He stands on a pile of soft blankets and pillows, a basket of assorted wines and cheeses accompanying him.

“Here’s my little treat with their cheeks all flushed. I see you’ve spared no expense with the booze tonight, my dear.”

You let out a flustered giggle when you feel his hand still lingering on your waist. “You’ve been missing out on the party, everyone there wanted to see you.” Your words slightly slurred.

“You and I both know that isn’t true, why else would only you be here, and neither of us out there.”

Before you can think of a clever response, he notices how much you’re swaying and guides you down to his makeshift bed. “I believe you may have had too much to drink, my sweet.” He smiles, trying to hide his disgust when he catches a whiff of your alcohol stained breath.

“I’m barely even tipsy, I can’t believe you think I’m a lightweight!” You chuckle before reaching up and booping his nose. He laughs but not before quickly removing your hand from his face.

“Perhaps we should just relax here for a bit, no? I had some wine and cheese planned for you, but I think the… uh… cheese, may be too much for you in this state.”

“I’m fine, really!” You hiccup before a slightly demanding voice leaves your lips as you sink into the bedding, your body relaxing next to his. “Oh, you’re really showing me now…” He teasingly whispers as he holds you, both of you bathing in the glow of the moon. After a few minutes of peace, you come up with an idea. It may be bold, brilliant you may even call it, or it may be downright stupid. Better to ask than rot in a pit of unanswered curiosity, right?

“If you were to drink from me, if I were hypothetically extremely drunk, would that also get you really drunk? What would that even taste like for you?” Staring up at the moon, you get lost in thought imagining the possibilities. He lies there for a moment, considering your question.

“I-I’m actually not sure. I’ve never done something like that before. I can imagine that the alcohol would impact me, but I’m not quite sure to what effect…” That was all he needed to say before you sat straight up, clumsily crawling over him to the basket of wine that you could only assume he stole.

“I vote we find out! What do you think, judge?” His eyes flash you a daring look at your sudden interest and his sarcastic nickname, but his smile reads otherwise.

“I suppose a few drops wouldn’t hurt. All in the name of experimentation, eh?” You crack open a bottle of wine and dismiss the glasses, drinking straight from the bottle. Given your already extremely drunk nature, this wine was more than enough to keep you feeling drunk for a while. Eager to see how this all plays out, you expose your neck to him the second you drop the empty bottle on the silky blankets.

“Perhaps we should get a bit more comfortable?” His voice is dripping with desire as he leans you back, allowing you to relax before he bites.

As your head hits the pillow, his nose lingers on your neck. Tilting your neck further to allow even more access, he takes his time with you. One hand on your hip, the other cradling your head as his nose brushes against the sensitive skin of your neck. His cold breath lingers on your skin, sending goosebumps through your whole body as he continues on.

You can’t help but shutter as his cold lips make contact next, gentle kisses plastered along the artery in your neck. The heat in your face only grows, an insatiable need rumbling in your stomach as he teases your nerves.

Just before you can begin to protest, his fangs pierces your neck, a strangled moan escaping your lips. The icy, sharp feeling in your neck returns, a familiar and welcomed sensation from all the other nights he’s fed on you. Your skin stings for a short time, a tear staining your face as the pain begins to subside and warm again.

You can’t tell if it’s the alcohol, loss of blood, or the fact that he’s ravenously sucking at your neck like a starving animal, but you begin to feel slightly light-headed. Gods forbid you halt your experiment early, you couldn’t live with yourself knowing that you stopped this… science. So early into its testing.

As he continues to drink, his skin grows warmer and warmer, much to the point where his face is a flushed pink color. His drinking becomes more desperate as it begins to slow; small moans and whimpers escape his throat as he holds on for as long as he can. As his fangs begin to slide out, they are quickly replaced by his tongue gently swiping away the stray drops of blood that were determined to drip down your body. While he was intensely interested in licking your entire body clean of blood, tonight was not that night.

You watch through half-lidded eyes as he sits up, his hand on his cheek as he feels just how fiery his face is. For the first time he can ever remember, he is impressed by how warm his body is. “So… How do you feel? Did it work?”

“S’fine. Feels good. So warm.” His voice wobbles as he speaks. Both of you burst out laughing at how drunk he became. “It worked!” You cheered, giggling at the sight of your drunk boyfriend swaying in his seat from his sudden intoxication.

Without any hesitation, he leans forward and kisses you, an intense amount of fire and passion behind it. He nearly smacks his face into yours as he pushes you down into the pillows, the fresh alcohol coursing through his body already impacting his motions. You’d be a fool to not give in though, your hands quickly finding purchase in his curly white hair. All of this is quite literally intoxicating, a fire beginning to brew in your lower half.

In his drunken state, his kisses become sloppy, his tongue pressing against your lower lip before his fangs nip at it. By accident, he nipped it enough to draw blood, but you were too drunk and aroused to care or truly even notice. He loudly whines, his mouth consuming yours as he laps at the small amount of blood leaving your lips.

You part your lips, allowing his tongue entry. In all his excitement, a moan rumbles from his throat when your tongue playfully meets his. He pushes his body harder against yours, climbing on top of you to close any and all gaps that could be found between your bodies. His leg hooks under your knee, lazily tossing it to the side to make even more room for him.

Desperate hands grasp your body as your legs spread, his hips filling that void. His body shakes with excitement as you moan from the feeling of his bulge against your clothed cunt.

The blood you’ve given him has always made him hard to a certain extent, but never this hard. Heavily enjoying this new feeling, he grinds his hips into yours, his lips still secured to yours. Panting, moaning, desperate whining fills the surrounding area as you two drunk idiots makeout, your bodies intertwined as he continues to grind his hardness into your arousal.

He tears his shirt off, tossing it to the side, his bare chest covered in sweat, a new and unfamiliar sensation for him. His lips stray from yours, his tongue tracing your jaw before finding your neck once more. Sucking, biting, teasing your neck, you continue to pant, your body on fire from his touch.

He begins to unlace your shirt, his warm hands exploring the soft skin underneath. One hand clumsily untucks it from your pants, grasping your bare waist with a strong desire as he lifts the shirt over your head and throws it with his shirt. Teeth and tongue make their way to your chest, quickly latching on to a nipple. A pathetic whine leaves your mouth as he sucks on one, his hand teasing the other.

Strong hands continue to grip his hair, pulling hard enough to encourage him, but not enough to get him off of you. Switching to the next nipple, he is sure to give you as much attention as his lazy, drunk tongue can provide. His tongue begins to lick down your body, taking in each and every curve as he heads towards your throbbing cunt.

Before he can make any progress, he sits up, a strained look on his face. Frantic hands begin to untie the laces of his pants, a large bulge making the fabric look quite tight. As he frees his twitching cock, he tosses his head back, a sigh of relief expelled. It’s clear that he leaked quite a bit of pre-cum in his pants, and more drips on his hand as he grips it, his body trembling.

“Let me help you with that-” Your voice wavering, yet seductive. Sitting up, you reach for his hands, wanting to take over, but it seems he has other plans for you. His hand grabs yours, squeezing it around his cock, causing him to groan.

“Do you feel just how hard you make me? I’ve never wanted to be inside you more, I want- need to be buried in you, I need to share this warmth with you.” He growls, your clit throbbing with excitement. Your jaw drops; he’s never left you this speechless before. He takes this opportunity to remove both his pants and your own, climbing on top of you and caging you in. Once again, his leg hooks yours, and you can’t help but feel thrilled by his sudden domination over you.

It takes him several moments to line up his cock with your slick folds, grunting as he grinds it against them, mixing slick with pre-cum. As he desperately ruts against you, both of you let out impatient sighs, craving so much more friction. At one point he thrusts and definitely misses your entrance, and you can’t help but laugh at how bad this is going thus far. He shoots you a dirty look but all you can do is flash him a cheeky smile, enjoying every moment with him, even if you know the sex will probably be pretty bad. In his newfound drunken frustration, it’s not long before he’s sloppily lining up the head of his cock with your opening, pushing in slightly faster than he normally would. He bottoms out, his balls slapping your ass.

“Gods…” He slurs out, his head pressed against your shoulder. “Fuck!” You whine, tossing your head back. His cock throbs as you squeeze around him, trying to adjust to how large and hard he feels this time around. “I- *huf* darling- If you keep squeezing like that *hahh~ mmm-* I won’t last much longer.”

“You gonna come too quick?” You tilt your face towards his, smiling at him. “Drunk you is so needy and desperate, i like him…” He pushes his cock harder into you in response, slamming into that spot that craves so much attention.

All of this was so overstimulating for your body that all you could reply with was a muffled moan. Lightly biting your shoulder, he pulls almost all the way out before harshly thrusting back into you. Your body tingles with electricity, this new side of him bringing so much unexpected pleasure. However, since both of you are wasted beyond belief, his thrusts follow a very sloppy rhythm.

Strings of curses, moans, whimpers and whines float into your ear as he continues to snap his hips into yours, his balls smacking your ass with each movement. This act resulted in loud, wet, lewd slapping sounds echoing throughout the trees, coupled with desperate, drunken moans.

Still gripping his hair, you pull his head from your shoulder to see just how strained he looked at this moment. His face is pinker than ever before, sweat beading on his skin as he grits his teeth, his fangs shining in the moonlight.

As if he just rediscovered you, his lips crash back onto yours, his tongue fighting yours for dominance. Completely surrendering to him, you sink even further into the pillows as he pounds your cunt, his cock sending bursts of pleasure up your spine each time he hits your cervix.

“I’m- I’m gonna-” He slurs against your lips before he covers your cheeks in wet kisses.

“N-not yet- *mMm* hold it. Keep going, please~” you whine, not ready for this to end. He lets out the neediest whine against your shoulder.

“I don’t know if I can- *fuck* darling, I’m so- so close-“ His rhythm gets even sloppier, his legs trembling, his voice wavering. His eyes are clenched shut as he tries his hardest to not come just yet.

“Please-“ You’ve never seen him quite this desperate, crying out this loudly. This is enough for you to nearly climax on your own, and you realize you’re not as far behind him anymore.

“Inside-” Is all you can muster, your breath catching in your throat as you feel yourself getting closer and closer.

Hitting the most delicious spot, your back arches, eyes rolling back as you cry out his name, gasping. Your hands claw at his back, holding on for dear life as your orgasm rips through you like a bolt of lighting. Your body’s contractions are always enough to break him sober, so it’s no shock that this absolutely shatters him while massively intoxicated.

A few more strong, desperate, sloppy thrusts and he’s gasping for air, his body shuttering against yours. Your abdomen feels warm as his spend fills you up, not a single drop wasted, his cock stopping any from leaking out.

He collapses on top of you, his head resting on your chest. A few moments pass before you run your fingers through his slightly damp hair, pushing the wet strands off of his forehead before leaning up to kiss it.

“You’re perfect every time, my dear,” he mutters as he rests his eyes, his hands around your back to hold you closely. “We should get you drunk a little more often,” You quietly laugh, his head bobbing as your chest vibrates from the laughter.

His eyes open as he turns to look up at you, the moon reflecting in his red irises. It’s clear that he’s not as intoxicated as you started, and that’s also proven when he starts to speak like himself again. “I’ve never felt that level of pleasure before… It’s not to say that I don’t feel great bouts of pleasure with you, but this was just so… different.”

“Did you enjoy it, though?” You check in on him. He takes a moment to analyze what you’ve just asked him.

“I did- quite a bit, I must add.” He quietly adds “Thank you, this was a gift. I won’t forget it.” You lovingly kiss him on the cheek before he softly kisses your lips, the hunger from earlier fading away.

He slowly begins to pull out of you, both of you still extremely sensitive. You shutter from the emptiness, as well as his cum leaking out of your swollenness. “Uh, uh, uh. Tsk. This should never go to waste.” He uses two fingers to collect his spend, shoving it back into your still overly sensitive cunt.

A smirk spreads across his face when he feels you clench around his fingers, but he removes them, abandoning all hope for a round two. However, your heart races at the sight of him licking his fingers, all while maintaining eye contact with you.

“We taste delightfully sweet.” A growl laced laugh erupts from his throat; he clearly enjoys teasing you and watching you squirm from just how aroused he makes you.

“Stay here a moment, my love.” Grabbing a small cloth, he dresses in his pants before wandering off into the woods. Nothing more than a moment later, just like he promised, he returns with the slightly damp cloth. Kneeling before you, he spreads your legs in a kinder, less sexual but still romantic way as he cleans up the mess the two of you made. Returning your underwear to you, he offers you a blanket as he snuggles up with you under the stars.

“Shall we remain here for the night?” He whispers, though his actions have made his choice clear. “Anywhere is perfect, so long as it’s with you.” You sigh, resting your head on his bare chest.

A deep sense of love can be found in your eyes as you gaze at him. He holds you tighter, tilting your head up to kiss the corner of your mouth, sharing in the same level of fondness.

“Sweetest of dreams, my dear.”

“Goodnight, Astarion.”

Post-fic scene honorable mention:

Astarion suddenly remembering that large intakes of alcohol can lead to hangovers, and he is certainly a ‘ray of sunshine’ when waking up extremely hungover with Tav feeling the same way. Safe to say that when he gets back to camp, he is not lifting a finger that day- He is going to rest for a bit with cucumber slices over his eyes, as well as something over his ears since ‘the world is skull crushingly loud’.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #bg3 tav #nsft #astarion nsft #astarion smut #astarion x you #astarion x nb! tav #soft astarion #no y/n #astarion fic #astarion x reader

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simping-overload · 6 months

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ᴀ ᴛɪᴇꜰʟɪɴɢꜱ ᴛᴀɪʟ - ꜰʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴄʀᴏᴡɴꜱ

a/n: halsin with baby fever <3 make this man a daddy

tags: halsin, he wants kids so bad. gn reader, zevlor cameo, just fluff.

『read on ao3』

synopsis: Halsin watches as you interact with the children of the Grove.

ヾthis is a multi-fandom blog that is designed for mlm/nbmlm identifying readers! so if you're female or fem please do not follow or interact with my mlm related post!! you will be blocked if you do not heed this warning ゛

The festival was bustling, children ran around and played whilst the adults drank the evening away. Bards sing their songs by the fire, occasionally starting sing-alongs.

Halsin sat separately, in a smaller, quieter corner, leaning against a wall as he watched over the party, making sure things won’t get too rowdy.

His gaze wonders over the crowd, looking for a familiar face before he lands on you. Sitting down on the ground and making flower crowns with the children. A child places one on top of your head, mindful of the horns.

The children braid and weave flowers along your tail and horns. Maybe at the right angle, you’d look like a statue wrapped in overgrown vines and plants.

Seeing you interact with the children stirs an all too familiar feeling in his chest, his desire for children of his own. Whether adopted or somehow biological, he wants ones of his own.

To see and hear the pitter patter of their tiny feet thumping against the wooden floor of your cozy home. Teaching them how to cook, clean, and maybe, if they wished, he can teach them the ways of the druids.

He’s already accustomed to the cries and screaming of children. Over the long years he has been alive, it’s safe to say he already knows how to handle it, especially when he took over as Arch druid of the Grove.

As much as he wants children, he doesn’t know if you wanted them. You never gave any indication if you did or didn’t.

Halsin tears his eyes away from you when he feels a nudge on his side. He turns his head, locking eyes with the person. It was Zevlor, a good friend of his.

“Something on your mind, Halsin?” The tiefling leader asks.

“Its—it’s not something to get into now, but how are you, friend?” Halsin tries to deflect the conversation away from him.

Zevlor raises a brow. “I’m well. The party is a bit more crowded than expected. Aside from that, don’t you dare try to change the topic. You’ve spent enough time of your life hiding your issues and feelings. Speak, my friend. I’m all ears.” Zevlor takes a sip of his wine.

“Do you think Tav and I would be good parents?” He suddenly blurts out, shoulders tensing at what he just said.

Zevlor grins. “I think you’d be one of the best parents in Faerûn.”

Halsin smiles at this, looking away from his friend and back at you.

“Though I would recommend waiting. Maybe a few years after the fame from your adventures, die down, and when you finally settle down. Did you ask them yet?”

Halsin chuckles nervously, “Well. No. I was waiting for a good time, but that moment never came.”

Zevlor huffed at this, smacking the druid’s calf with his tail. “Go ask.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. Gods know you probably wouldn’t ask for another year! And look, they’re already on their way.. I’ll leave you to it.” Zevlor pats Halsin on the shoulder before slipping off.

Halsin watches as you approach, and by the Oak father, you look divine. The bear in him just wanted to ravish you more than and there. He pushes the feeling away as he pulls you into his warm embrace.

You wrap your arms around him, curling into him as you soak in his comforting warmth. Pulling back slightly, you look at your lover, adoration laced in your expression.

“Hi love.”

“Hello, my heart. I see you had quite the time for the children.” He brings a hand to the flower crown that lies on your head.

You chuckle, nodding, “Yeah, it got a little out of control.” You gesture to your tail. It had all kinds of flowers laced together covering it.

With a fond smile, he gently caresses your cheek with his hand. Pulling you forward, and presses a loving kiss to your lips. He faintly tastes like honeycomb and tobacco.

You shut your eyes, falling into the kiss. Getting lost in the sensation of his lips on yours.

He reluctantly pulls away when the need for air becomes too strong. He settles to rest his foreheads against yours, looking into your eyes with a longing your’re oh-so familiar with. You can see his eyes flicker with uncertainty. It seems he’s having an internal conflict with himself.

“What’s on your mind, Halsin?” You ask, cupping his face in your palms so he can’t turn away.

He sucks in a breath before letting the words flow from his lips. “I have something to ask of you.”

#bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate x reader #halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 halsin #bg3 halsin x reader #halsin silverbough x reader #halsin x tav #bg3 halsin x tav #halsin x reader

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galedekarios · 9 months

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gale's early access dialogue transcripts - part 2 a: the deer stew scene

in early access, gale had two additional major scenes: the deer stew scene and the loss scene, both of which would happen during a long rest at camp.

the scenes in early access usually happened in this order:

-1: first night long rest scene (still in the final game) -2: mirror image scene (still in the final game) -3: deer stew scene (cut content / partially reused in act i) -4: weave scene (still in the final game) -5: loss scene (cut content) -6: tiefling party scene (ea version cut / partially reused in act ii last night alive scene)

the deer stew scene was supposed to show that gale had come to trust the protag throughout their time together and the actions they've taken, like saving arabella and mirkon, or trying to solve the tension between zevlor and aradin.

he would tell them about his condition and reveal that he needs magical artefacts of great power (idol of silvanus, sword of justice, staff of crones, shadow of menzoberranzan, etc.) in order to consume the weave within them to sate said condition. parts of that conversation have been reused and repurposed for the full release version of the game, though now this scene happens while travelling if you progress gale's approval enough.

you can watch a video of the deer stew scene here. below you'll find the transcript of the scene and all its outcomes.

the deer stew scene

Gale: Ah, there you are. How did you enjoy my deer stew this evening? Old family recipe. Protag (Option 1): It was delicious. Gale: Good. I tend to season it with spices from Kara-Tur, but given what's available to us, good old rosemary had to see us through. Not that I mean to regale you with my culinary exploits. Gale: There's, er... Well, there's actually something quite different I'd like to discuss. Protag (Option 2): I didn't have any actually. Gale: Curious time to be dieting. Especially with a chef like myself around. -> Then same as Option 1 Protag (Option 3): Should have kept it in the family. Gale: Can't argue with taste. Or the lack thereof. -> Then same as Option 1

Protag (Option 1): By all means. Gale: We've been... -> See Option 3 Protag (Option 2): Why so tense all of a sudden? Gale: Some things are easier to explain than others. But first let me say this: We've been... -> See Option 3 Protag (Option 3): Whatever it is, make it brief. Gale: As you wish. Gale: We've been travelling together for a while now, and during those travels I've been observing you. I want you to know that I like what I see. The way you handled Nettie when she poisoned you. The way you defused the tension between Zevlor and Aradin. The way you got Kagha to release the girl. The way you saved that boy out of a harpy's clutches. In short: I've grown to trust you.

Protag (Option 1): That's very gratifying to hear Gale: Now I need you to place your trust in me. Protag (Option 2): Enough of flattery. Where is this going? Gale: An exchange. I expressed my trust in you, now I need you to place your trust in me. Protag (Option 3): Can't say the feeling's mutual. Gale: And yet I need you to place your trust in me in turn. Gale: Our journey together is bound to last a while still. As such I feel compelled to speak. I say this because there is something I desperately need, but while I'll tell you what that something is, I won't tell you why. I have to ask you to agree to this before carrying on with this conversation.

Protag (Option 1): Very well, I agree Gale: Thank you. I see I did well to trust you. Now to the matter at hand. You see, I have a... condition. A condition different from the tadpole, but just as deadly. The only way to appease Protag (Option 2): No. It's unfair to demand blind faith in you. Gale: I understand that I'm asking for a lot, but I can't tell you everything. Not yet anyway. Please, reconsider. Protag (Option 3): [Wisdom] You sense secrecy and danger. Use your tadpole to probe Gale's thoughts. [Failure] Gale: I'm afraid that's not going to work on me. Look, I appreciate your curiosity, but don't pursue this path. Let's agree in actions first and explanations later, yes?

Protag (Option 1): Fine, have it your way. / Fine, I reconsider. Tell me what you need. Gale: Thank you. I see I did well to trust you. Now to the matter at hand... Protag (Option 2): I'm still going to say no. / No, I won't. And that's final. Gale: That's... truly disappointing. I see now that I misjudged you, so we'll dwell on the matter no longer. And at least I know where I stand. This is a part of the journey I must walk alone. Good night. Protag (Option 3): [Wisdom] you sense secrecy and danger. Use your tadpole to probe Gale's thoughts. [Success] Narrator: You become one with Gale's mind and you can feel something sinister oppressing you. It's... inside of you, a mighty darkness radiating from your chest. You could try to push further, but your hold over Gale feels brittle. It won't be easy delving deeper without him noticing. Delve deeper: [Failure] Gale: What are you... You're using the tadpole against me? This is a breach of trust that... And to think I thought you trustworthy in the first place! I'm leaving. I cannot stand to be around such betrayal a moment longer.

Tav: [Insight] You are in mortal danger twice over. To leave would be foolish, and you are no fool. [Failure] Gale: I am a fool. A fool to have trusted you. [Gale leaves the party permanently] Delve deeper: [Success] Narrator: You see through Gale's eyes, staring down the corridor of a dread memory. A book, bound, then suddenly opened. Inside there are no pages, only a swirling mass of blackest Weave that pounces. It's teeth, it's claws, it's unstoppable as it digs through you and become part of you. And Gods, is it ever-hungry.

Gale: Keeping me in suspense, are you? Come on, tell me, do we have an agreement or not? It's s simple question, isn't it? What gives you pause? Protag (Option 1): Yes, I agree. Gale: Thank you. I see I did well to trust you. Now to the matter at hand... Protag (Option 1 / Dependent on Tadpole Use): Risk telling Gale what the tadpole showed you. Gale: What? You used that thing against me? And you saw! After I told you.... This is a breach of trust that... And to think I thought you trustworthy in the first place! I'm leaving. I cannot stand to be around such betrayal a moment longer. Protag (Option 1): [Persuasion] Be reasonable, Gale. I'm responsible for our party. I had to know. Gale: [Success] The need remains debatable, but I recognise your responsibility. Perhaps I spoke in haste, it's just that... there are things... things I cannot speak of. Besides, what you saw... You read the opening line of a very big book, no more. The darkness you perceived, that is my primary condition. A condition different from the tadpole, but just as deadly.

Protag (Option 2): [Inisght] You are in mortal danger twice over. To leave would be foolish, and you aren't fool. Gale: [Success] I have to admit, you are right about that. Besides, what you saw... Gale: [Failure] I am a fool. A fool to have trusted you. This is where we part ways. Protag (Option 3): So be it. Gale: So be it. This is where we part ways.

Gale: The only way to “appease” said condition is for me to take powerful magical artefact and absorb the Weave inside. It's been days since I last consumed an artefact, before we were abducted. It is time. By that I mean it's Imperative that I find and consume powerful strands of Weave at the earliest possible juncture. Protag (Option 1): Tell me more about that condition of yours [Saw with the Tadpole] Gale: You've already seen more than I was willing to share, remember? Best leave the darkness in darkness for now. [Did not use the Tadpole] Gale: That's part of the 'why' you agreed not to discuss. Wouldn't want to make an oath breaker out of you. Protag (Option 2): Where are we supposed to find the kind of artefacts you need? Gale: We already done the finding. The Idol of Silvanus is such an artefact. Protag (Option 1): Are you crazy? There's no way I'm stealing the druids' idol. Gale: I'm not saying we should – I'm just pointing out it happens to be exactly the sort of thing I'm looking for. Of course we're bound to come across more artefacts during our travels. -> Continue to As luck would have it... Protag (Option 2): That sounds like more trouble than it's worth. Gale: And it might well be. It's a holy relic after all, and taking it would enrage the druids to no end. Not that I'd say no, but we're bound to come across more artefacts during our travels. -> Continue to As luck would have it... Protag (Option 3): Then let's go get it. Gale: I'm not so sure that's advisable. It's a holy relic after all, and taking it would enrage the druids to no end. Not that I'd say no, but we're bound to come across more artefacts during our travels. -> Continue to As luck would have it... Protag (Option 4): What happens if you don't consume any artefact? Gale: Catastrophe. Protag (Option 5): This is all madness. Gale: Define it as you will, the semantics aren't important, the condition's conditions are: I am in need of artefacts. That's all there's to it. -> Continue to As luck would have it... Gale: As luck would have it, Faerûn is full of them, though I do feel obliged to point out that items of power tend to be in the hands of the powerful. There will be danger involved – or great cost.

Protag (Option 6): So Astarion wants to suck blood and you want to suck magic. What's next? Gale: We all have our eccentricities. Ours are just more eccentric than most. Astarion: As a matter of fact, you should feel lucky to be travelling with men of taste. -> Continue to As luck would have it...

Protag (Option 1): Danger? I wouldn't have it any other way. Gale: Good. A bit of boldness will serve us well. -> Continue to I know the allure... Protag (Option 2): So you're saying I need to risk my life for you. Gale: I know the allure these artefacts hold. I understand their value and their power. All this to say: I understand the sacrifice I ask of you. But if I may so bold: it's for a good cause indeed. I hope I can count on you. Protag (Option 3): When I acquire powerful magic items, I'm not so sure I'll choose you over them. Gale: That's your decision to make. I expect you to make the right one. Much is at stake. More than my own meagre life alone. Protag (Option 4): I can tell you right now I don't care at all for this wild Gale chase. Gale: That's your decision to make. I expect you to make the right one. Much is at stake. More than my own meagre life alone. Gale: I know the allure these artefacts hold. I understand their value and their power. All this to say: I understand the sacrifice I ask of you. But if I may so bold: it's for a good cause indeed. I hope I can count on you. Gale: [if the tadpole was used and told] Oh, and as far as that tadpole trickery goes, I really do trust you'll not be so untoward again.

coming up next:

-part 1: the three tadpole dreams -> completed

-part 2: major cut scenes: the deer stew scene -> completed with this post & the loss scene -> will be posted next

-part 3: minor cut scenes: abandoned temple of jergal, failed to save arabella, talking to the paladins of tyr and agreeing to go after karlach, edowin and the tadpole reveal, mayrina giving ethel's wand to her or breaking it, handing astarion over to the gur or defending him, reaching the druid grove, killing lae'zel, reaching the goblin camp & looking for halsin, killing the druids, priestess gut & the brand & the cult of the absolute, dror ragzlin and talking to the dead mind flayer, ogre couple, necromancy of thay, ethel, zhentarim chest, myconid colony

-part 4: gale's condition & the way it was treated in early access

taglist: @chainsawmascara, @randomfanner, @tacogoats, @khajiit-necromancer, @gwinharper, @galesenchantedpanties, @swampfaerie, @ardently-queer, @nirraein, @gale-enjoyer, @xiv-wolfram, @kairoswouldnever, @a-psychopathic-dream

i thought i'd tag the people i'd seen taking an interest in my original post! if you want to be taken off the taglist, please let me know!

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3 #series: eadialogue

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jellyfitzjelly · 24 days

Note

I wish you would write a fic where…Zevlor accidentally saw shy gn reader (crush) absolutely being enraged with Aradin for being so rude, and disrespectful towards Zevlor!

Sorry for the long delay, anon! I hope you will enjoy it nonetheless. 🥲

Disrespect | T | AO3

Zevlor strolled throughout the Grove, unable to find Tav. He had found himself seeking their presence more and more ever since they arrived. The Hellrider had to be honest with himself: he had been besotted with the adventurer ever since they punched Aradin. They were a shy, pretty thing but steel was hiding beneath this enchanting exterior. Zevlor had fallen hard and fast.

As he was still searching for Tav, he heard voices. He approached the secluded spot, curious. He spotted Aradin and Tav talking.

“I’d love to give it to you and wish you a happy funeral, but I only got the contract. Have it if you so desperately want to get diced by goblins.”

Tav took the contract from the young man, reading it over.

“Now fuck off and go back to sucking horns’ tail.”

“What did you say?” Tab bristled.

“What? Like I haven’t seen you make bedroom eyes to that foulblood. Ain’t that why you had a go at me? So you could suck devil dick?”

“Don’t you dare disrespect him like that,” the young adventurer growled.

“Or what, bitch?”

“Zevlor is a thousand times the man you’ll never be, bitch,” Tav spat. “He’s a hero, you’re just a pissypants afraid of a few goblins.”

Zevlor saw Aradin clench his jaw, bunching up his fist. Instincts taking over, he sprinted and arrived just in time to shield Tav and push Aradin to the ground.

“Have some respect for the person who saved your miserable life,” he growled, eyes burning with anger. “If you dare raise your hand to anyone in this camp, you will have to fight tougher enemies than goblins!”

Fear flashed in Aradin’s eyes. He got up, throwing an angry look to Tav.

“Fucking foulblood. You’ll see, one of these days!”

He walked away, throwing looks behind his shoulder as if Zevlor was going to pursue him. The Hellrider turned to Tav.

“Are you alright?” he asked with concern, bringing a hand to their cheek.

The young adventurer blushed bright red.

“Ah, y–yes, thank you,” they stammered.

Zevlor couldn’t help a fond smile. He tucked a strand of hair behind their ear.

“I am truly thankful for the high regard you hold me to, but you shouldn’t put yourself in danger because of me.”

“Aradin was being disrespectful!” Tav bristled again.

“My life has been a long succession of Aradins being disrespectful,” he sighed. “One more won’t upset me.”

“Was life that bad in Elturel?” they murmured, eyes filling up with sadness.

“It wasn’t,” Zevlor reassured them. “Now, the sun is setting. You should go back to your camp.”

“Could…Could you walk me back?” they asked innocently, but Zevlor could see the blush in their cheek and the eagerness in their eyes.

He chuckled.

“Lead the way.”

#zevlor #zevlor x reader #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #my fanfictions #mine bg3

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web-spinning · 7 months

Note

Did you get a request? It's headcanons for Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with gn s/o who is so kind that even strangers would approach them for help. Thanks!

Various BG3 NPCs with a very kind reader

A/N- hii, sorry for keeping you waiting, I just wasn't sure how to go around Haarlep because there's not much interactions with them in the game, so they're last on the list!

Dammon

- he's very attentive to details, perhaps a job effect, but he notices how often you help others,

- he finds it very lovely, and it makes him feel good that there are still people out there who can share kindness,

- especially grateful if you can help him bring around supplies,

- tries to return the act as much as he can,

Rolan

- he's anything but a nice person,

- pretends that he finds your kindness weird if anyone asks , when in reality he wishes he could also act like it,

- unfortunately, his skin's just a tad too tough after everything he's been through in Hell,

- if any of the kids in the Grove need his help, he'll get really mad, but then...

- "No, I won't help you with this!...you can ask my partner. They could help. Just don't waste much of their time",

Zevlor

- he's been through a lot, to say the least, and maybe he can't always be as helpful as he wishes he could be,

- at some point of being surrounded by tragedies only you forget how bright the world can actually be,

- you gave him back that light,

- your actions makes him hopeful for the future; he wishes everyone will take on the same approach as you,

- melts at any act of kindness towards him,

- remembers you're "only human" too and makes sure to give you the most affection,

Haarlep

((no gif because they're all nsfw-ish))

- "Oh pet, one day your kindness will be our ruin",

- as you can imagine, Hells aren't a place where you can often find someone who's kind or helpful, so at first they think of you as rather naive,

- however, as time goes by, they become more impressed by it,

- as an incubus, you can't expect much kindness in the world, yet here you are,

- they adore your courage and selflessness more than anything they ever did.

#bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 headcanons #bg3 dammon x reader #bg3 zevlor x reader #bg3 haarlep x reader #bg3 rolan x reader

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lostinforestbound · 6 months

Note

Hello There ! 👋😊

Tw : slight Dune spoiler, since the book is rather old.

Could you write Zevlor Headcanons about his Tav!love interest being someone with such passion and determination to change the world, that they may sometimes scare people off, please ? ( if you know those work of fiction, I'm talking about someone similar to Eren Jeager in SNK, Anakin Skywalker in Star wars, or Paul Atreides in Dune ) 👀

Smooches ! ☺️

Oh wow this was definitely a brain exercise for me! I did my best, so I hope this is what you were looking for! Thank you so much for your patience!

Zevlor with a Passionate Tav

Zevlor is a leader. A Hellrider, a Paladin; he has led many people in his prime. Seeing other leaders is not something new to him, as he's seen many.

But something about Tav is very different. It's honestly part of why he fell for them.

Not only are they ambitious, they are passionate. He admires their resolve, but he notices how nervous others get around them.

They're so strongly convicted that they scare others around them. Never him, though. Gods, never him.

He always asks what keeps them going. Their motivations, their dreams, how believe they're in the right; it's all so fascinating for him.

It makes him wonder why they chose him; an Oathbreaker. Shouldn't they hate someone like him?

Although they work together, he honestly leaves most of the leading to them. They make amazing speeches and inspire many people like them, including himself.

Whenever he doubts himself about his resolve, Tav is always there to lift him up. They will hug him from behind and tell him he's doing everything right, in their eyes.

He would do anything they say. It's not in a pathetic way; he just trusts them so much. With his love, life, and soul.

Every day he still wonders how he managed to get their attention, when he's so dull compared to them. He never asks, so he'll never know.

Writing Blurb

They're speaking. A speech, one made up on the spot as terror rushes through the streets of Baldur's gate. A speech, one that has everyone absolutely enthralled, including Zevlor.

He's never seen them stand so tall, so brightly illuminated by the reddening sky. There's hope being lost as more destruction erupts, but they have become a beacon. Everyone has never looked more alive, even with the world's end at their doorstep. Some even looked scared, but were determined to fight this Netherbrain at their sole command.

At the end of their final sentence, voices cry out and cheer, almost startling him out of his thoughts. Everything became more real in that moment; they're about to go fight the brain, but he can't go with them. Not until they call. His Hellriders are ready for anything.

When they finally approach him, he notices how their smile disappears, letting him know their true feelings. They believe they can pull this off, no doubt about it, but they worry about him of all people.

He presses their forehead against theirs, minding the horns, and he cups their face with a free hand. "We will be fine, my love. You should worry about yourself."

Their grin returns immediately as he speaks, and his heart can't help but flutter. How did he get so lucky, to have someone that has such a determined, beautiful smile?

"I have nothing to worry about, then." They state, placing their hand over his.

Usually, he would argue lightly. They should be more worried about themselves; they're not invincible. He wishes they were, most days. Then he would never have to fear them getting hurt. But now is not the time, they all have a catastrophic brain to fight. They need all their heads in the game to win.

He sighs in resignation but returns their smile. "Do not be reckless, and do not be stupid."

"I won't."

They gently pull him in for a long kiss. It's gentle, as if they're savoring it, in case they won't see each other after; in case it is the last one.

It won't be, but they never know.

#forest-writes #zevlor #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #zevlor x tav

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justcallmefox89 · 5 months

Text

Submission: Chapter Four - Walking in the Moonlight

Rolan and Drakul get to know each other a little better.

TW: m/m sex acts, smutty shenanigans in the woods, dirty talk/teasing

Rolan glances over at Drakul as the pair meander through the woods, admiring the way moonlight strikes his profile as he turns his face up to admire stars. Drakul bounces on his toes and turns to face Rolan with a beaming smile on his face.

“I’m over 400 years old and I saw the moon and stars for the first time only a few days ago,” he says in a wondering tone. “The surface world is full of such glorious things.”

“You’ve spent your whole life in the Underdark?” Rolan asks, trying to suppress his shock.

“Of course. Why would I wish to be anywhere else?” Drakul reaches up and gently touches Rolan’s cheek. “But had I known your world contained such beauty I would have ventured to the surface earlier.”

“Do you miss it? Your home?” Rolan deflects his flirtation with a question.

The drow tilts his head to the side and purses his lips as he considers his answer. “Yes…” he says haltingly. “Of course I do. I miss my sisters, and in some strange, demented way I even miss my mother. But this…” He takes Rolan’s hand in his and softly smiles. “This type of freedom is intoxicating. Being able to use my magic for something other than K’tarai’s schemes. Not being forced to entertain whichever matriarch my mother wishes to align herself with in the moment. I haven’t had to kill anyone I didn’t wish to in days!”

Overwhelmed by these, quite frankly, odd admissions, Rolan grasps onto the safest topic of conversation. “May I ask about your magic?”

Drakul momentarily stiffens next to him but quickly recovers. “Of course, my beauty.”

Rolan mulls over his question, trying to think of a tactful way to phrase it. “When did you break your oath?”

Drakul peeks at the wizard out of the corner of his eye. “You’re an observant little kitten, aren’t you?”

“Your magic feels similar to Zevlor’s just…”

“Just?” Drakul arches one eyebrow at Rolan’s reticence.

“Darker. More… all-encompassing.”

“You make me sound positively dangerous, little wizard,” Drakul practically purrs, taking hold of the front of Rolan’s robes and tugging him closer.

Rolan stumbles a bit and throws him arms around the paladin’s shoulders to steady himself. “You are dangerous,” he gasps as Drakul leans down and nuzzles against his pulse point. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”

Drakul laugh and kisses the tender skin behind Rolan’s ear. “And what am I doing?”

“Attempting to distract me…”

“Attempting? Not succeeding?” Drakul murmurs, nipping at the shell of the tiefling’s ear.

Rolan shudders, a soft moan escaping his lips as he clutches Drakul tighter.

“Maybe I should elaborate on everything I wish to do with you, would you find that sufficiently distracting?”

Rolan whimpers faintly, one hand coming up to tangle in the drow’s hair.

“I wish to have your hands in my hair while my face is buried between your thighs, my mouth on your perfect cock,” Drakul growls, peppering the tiefling’s neck with kisses. “I want to hear you scream my name when you spill in my mouth.”

“Drakul…” Rolan timidly whines his name, grinding his hardening cock against the paladin’s thigh.

“Mmm, you can be louder than that lovely one,” the drow teases, gripping a handful of Rolan’s arse and sighing in pleasure. “I want to edge your pleasure with pain, showing you delights you never could have dreamed of. I want you to mark me with your teeth and claws, and then when your cock is hard again I want to ride you while your hands grip my thighs, guiding my pace, making sure I take every inch of you…”

Drakul grips the back of Rolan’s head, tearing loose the tie holding his hair up and claiming his mouth in a brutal kiss. Rolan’s lips part on a gasp and Drakul slips his tongue inside, groaning as he tastes Rolan for the first time. He tugs on Rolan’s hair, pulling the wizard’s head back, and kisses up the exposed column of his throat, licking and biting his skin with soft lips and sharp teeth. Drakul slots his leg between Rolan’s thighs and grips Rolan’s hips, urging him to grind down against him. Rolan whimpers at the contact, even with several layers of fabric between them.

“Gods, you are beautiful like this,” Drakul murmurs. “Wild and undone, just for me.”

“Drakul…” Rolan sighs out his name, gripping the paladin tight.

“Let me taste you, my lovely one,” Drakul begs, his voice broken and husky. “Let me feel the weight of you on my tongue.”

Rolan blushes and stammers at Drakul’s request. “I… I…”

The drow nips at Rolan’s earlobe. “Answer me, beauty.”

“Yes!” Rolan gasps.

Drakul gives Rolan one last, lingering kiss before backing him against the trunk of a large oak tree and dropping to his knees in front of the tiefling. He tears at the wizard’s robes, hurriedly bundling them out of the way so he can yank down his breeches. Rolan sighs as the cool evening air caresses his heated skin, and looks down at Drakul through slitted eyes.

Drakul takes a long moment to appreciate Rolan’s thick, ridged cock, hanging heavy between his thighs, before giving the head a teasing flick with the tip of his tongue. Rolan groans and closes his eyes, letting his head fall back against the tree trunk as Drakul caresses his thighs and presses warm, wet kisses along his length.

“You make such pretty noises, little wizard,” Drakul mumbles against Rolan’s hip. “But can I make you sing?”

Rolan shudders as the soft heat of Drakul’s mouth envelopes the entirety of his cock, slowly dragging up and then sliding back down. One weapon roughened hand cradles his balls, gently rolling them together. This sensation, in tandem with Drakul’s mouth, causes Rolan’s knees to buckle and his hips to thrust forward, shoving his cock even further into Drakul’s mouth.

“Drakul,” he whines as a tale-tell heat begins to climb up his spine and a familiar tightening begins low in his belly.

Drakul releases Rolan’s cock from his mouth and grins up at him wickedly. “Tell me what you need, Rolan.”

“More,” Rolan whines, grabbing the back of Drakul’s head and attempting to urge him forward.

With his free hand, Drakul gives Rolan’s cock a long, slow stroke. “More… what?”

Rolan grinds his teeth together as he realizes what it is that Drakul wants from him. He clamps his mouth closed as Drakul strokes him again, teasingly licking the tip of his aching cock.

“You… you… sadist,” Rolan hisses, his hand gripping the tree trunk so tightly splinters dig into his palm.

Drakul slowly draws Rolan’s tip back into his mouth and suckles gently, one hand stroking the base of his cock while the other continues to tease his balls. The sensations are somehow both too much and not enough, and Rolan finds himself crying out against his will.

“More! Please, Drakul, please! I need you…”

Drakul swallows his cock to the base, swirling his tongue around Rolan’s hardened length as his hands work in tandem to tease his balls and thighs. Heat licks up Rolan’s back and stars spark behind his closed eyelids as his orgasm washes over him. He’s faintly aware of Drakul groaning in pleasure as he spills in the paladin’s mouth, but everything else is lost to the heat of Drakul’s mouth and the rough touch of his hands. Each lick of Drakul’s tongue on his sensitive cock sends a shudder through him, and Rolan falls back limply against the tree, breathing hard.

“Such a good boy,” Drakul murmurs hoarsely, pressing one last kiss to Rolan’s bare hip before tucking him back into his breeches. After making sure Rolan’s laces are all done up and his robes are properly straightened, Drakul rises to his feet and smirks at the now blushing wizard.

Rolan fidgets under the drow’s crimson stare, unsure what to do.

Should I offer to reciprocate? That would be the polite thing to do, surely?

“Shall I… ?” Rolan hesitantly reaches out for the hem of Drakul’s tunic.

Drakul chuckles and stops the forward movement of his hands. “No, my pretty little wizard, this evening is about you. I can wait until next time.”

Next time?

Heat blooms over Rolan’s cheeks at Drakul’s insinuation.

“I think it’s time we got you back to Cal and Lia,” Drakul continues, dusting bits of bark and dried leaves from Rolan’s shoulders.

A pang of disappointment strikes Rolan at the realization that their time together is over.

“Don’t worry, lovely one,” Drakul murmurs, sensing the quick change in his mood. “There will be more time for us, I promise.”

Rolan had long ago quit trusting in the promises of others, but something about Drakul desperately makes him want to believe that what he says is true. That there will be more late night rendezvous in the woods, more stolen kisses and secret touches.

The pair walks back towards the camp in silence, each seemingly absorbed in their own thoughts. When the glow of the campfire becomes visible once again Drakul wraps his arms around Rolan’s waist and pulls the tiefling back against his chest.

“One final kiss before you leave me?” Drakul murmurs, his voice low and husky in Rolan’s ear.

Rolan turns to face him, not leaving the protective circle of Drakul’s arms, and tilts his face up to receive a gentle kiss from the paladin. Rolan wants to stay there, warm in Drakul’s embrace, but the voices of his brother and sister float on the evening breeze, reminding him of pending obligations and promises made.

The two create some distance between them and walk back into camp, to a chorus of knowing smiles and thinly veiled innuendos. The siblings quickly make their good-byes and make for the safety of the grove. Only once Drakul’s camp is out of sight do Cal and Lia turn to stare at Rolan, matching grins on their faces.

“So…” Cal says slowly, eyeing his older brother. “Did you have a nice walk?”

Rolan stiffens under their teasing attention, and attempts to school his face into some semblance of neutrality. “It was quite nice, yes. It turns out that Drakul is quite fascinating to speak to.”

“And how much talking did you two actually get done?” Lia asks, smirking as she leans forward and plucks a few twigs from Rolan’s unbound hair.

The wizard freezes, his hands flying to his hair as he suddenly remembers Drakul tearing out the leather thong that usually keeps his hair tied back. He blushes as his siblings stare at him expectantly, waiting for the salacious details. Rolan clamps his mouth shut and speedily marches away from him, determined to put as much distance between himself and his siblings as possible.

Cal laughs at his brothers retreating back and Lia calls out his name.

“Rolan, wait! We want to learn all about our new brother-in-law!”

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dark-and-kawaii · 1 month

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⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊ Please ₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Summary: You go to find Zevlor, to comfort him. Only to have it lead to him pressing your back against a tree, his lips hot against yours.

Pairing: Zevlor x F!Tav/Reader

✧₊⁺ Content: NSFW - Hurt/Comfort - Fingering - Making Out - Zevlor Hates What He Is - Creampie

✧₊⁺ Notes: Thank you @madam-kumo for the drawing of Lofn <3

Zevlor found himself restless, his mind unable to escape the turmoil of the past few days. The weight of leadership, the constant threat to his people, and the unexpected depth of his feelings for you all pressed heavily on him. Seeking solace, he wandered through the grove as much as he could, his thoughts inevitably drifting back to you. He found himself missing your voice and the way his name sounded on your lips, but even more so he found himself wishing that things could be different.

That was not a new feeling.

He'd often wondered what life could have been like had things been different, had he been born normal rather than some foulblood... Had his people been born as elves or humans... But instead they were all cursed- cursed to hide and fight, to survive, to struggle for every small comfort they could find. Even now, when he had finally met someone, someone who made him feel as though he wasn't broken or cursed, the weight of him being what he was...

It would always hold him down. He would never be able to give you the life you deserved, a failure of a man... That's what he was, and the thought of you living a life filled with ridicule and judgement at his side broke his heart. He wanted more for you, more than what he could offer.

It was better this way, to keep his distance, he reminded himself. You would find a cure for the parasite within you and your allies, a home in the city, surrounded by friends, and live the happy and fulfilling life you deserved. And he... He would be happy for you.

Even if it meant that his heart would stay here, among the groves ruins, broken and buried.

As he continued to wonder he made his way just outside the gates and atop a green hill where he could stare at the stars above, watching the heavens and listen to the wind dance through the leaves, where he could allow the soft breeze soothe his aching heart. He'd been so distracted he hadn't noticed someone approach him until a small hand slid onto his bicep...

Your scent and your touch were unmistakable, but why would you be here? As he turned around with his eyes closed he found himself believe this was nothing more than a trick of his mind...

But when his lashes fluttered open, there you stood... Bathed in the soft glow of the moon and the gentle breeze playing in your hair... Those beautiful eyes of yours looked up at him, searching his face and his soul.

“Zevlor,” you greeted, your voice ever so soothing, “Is everything alright? You seemed troubled earlier-“

“You shouldn't be out here past the gates…”

“Why?”

“It's late. and it's not safe-“

You smiled fondly at him, “I think I can handle myself~”

He huffed, “I have no doubt of that, but you shouldn't be alone out here.”

“What about you, aren't you alone out here?” You continued to smile, not at all swayed by his words, and instead you nudged him a little, “Besides, i'm not alone. Not anymore at least.”

The corner of his mouth twitched and the tension in his shoulders lessened a little, but only a little.

“Why did you follow me out here?”

Your gaze fell to the ground, your voice a whisper, “Because, we may have only met a short time ago... But I can tell, Zevlor.” your smile faltered, “I can tell something is wrong…”

He hesitated, the words caught in his throat, his jaw clenching and unclenching. But the concern in your eyes, the genuine worry... “I don't want to burden you.”

You frown deepened, your grip on his arm tightening, “Zevlor, you aren't a burden. Please... Let me be there for you.”

Zevlor closed his eyes and sighed, unable to look at you, not when the way you looked at him made his chest feel tight, “Everything feels... overwhelming.” he admitted, his voice low and earnest, “I feel like a failure. A failure of a leader. If my people are ever going to survive, truly survive this journey, I need to be at my best... But-“ he looks down at his hands, his claws and his palms calloused and rough, “so many have lost their lives already, and I'm responsible for them... I'm supposed to protect them, not let them parish. There's so few of us left, i-“

He could feel your fingers slip into his hand, your touch so gentle and soft, “You've done everything you can to ensure your people survive and thrive. They wouldn't have gotten this far without you, and you have given them the tools and the strength to keep going. So many of them look up to you Zevlor, even the children-“

“How do I keep going when i'm the reason why their families are gone, when it's because of me that they will never get to know their mothers and fathers?”

You squeeze his hand, “No... Zevlor, none of their blood is on your hands. You're just one man, a Hellrider without his men to back him up. You have been fighting and teaching those who wish to learn. You have done and kept so many of them safe. It's not your fault, it's not-“

“Then why does it feel like it is?”

You let go of his hand, and before he could question your actions you had taken a step closer and wrapped your arms around him, your forehead pressing against his chest, “Because you care about your people... But you shouldn't be alone.” you looked up at him, “Don't try to carry the world on your shoulders... To shoulder the burden alone. Let me help.”

“How could you possibly-“

“I can't, not by myself, but together-“

The commander allowed himself to lean into your touch, to let the walls he had built around himself crumble, if only for a moment. You were like a lifeline, a reminder that he wasn't alone, not when you were around. And for a moment, Zevlor found himself wondering what would happen if he didn't have to be strong. What would happen if he allowed himself a moment of peace- a moment of happiness.

“Please,” your voice was barely a whisper, “Let me in.”

His need for comfort evolving into something deeper, more intimate as he reached for you, his fingers brushing against your cheek, tracing the delicate line of your jaw, “Thank you.”

The world seemed to fade away as he leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a kiss that spoke of everything he could not say aloud, everything he couldn't admit even to himself. Everything he would deny if asked. His other hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. It was a gentle exploration at first, a tentative dance of emotions laid bare.

Your arms wrapping around him, pulling him closer, the kiss deepening, a shared promise, a vow, a confession.

You both needed each other in this moment, needed one another as much as the other needed the air to breathe. The heat from the kiss spreading through your body, the sensation making your head spin, a tingling feeling growing between your legs, and Zevlor could smell it, your arousal.

And in that moment, you knew.

There was no going back. This was it.

Zevlor was the first to pull away, his infernal eyes searching yours, as if asking permission.

Your hands found his face before bringing him back to you, your forehead kissing his, your voice nothing more than breathless whispers, “I don't want to be alone either, not anymore.”

His tail wrapped around you and his lips claimed yours once more.

You were his salvation, the light at the end of the dark path, his guiding star, and he would be damned if he let you go, not when the way your body fit him so wonderfully, felt so right, so perfect. Your hands running over his skin, touching him in ways he had only dreamt of, his own hands exploring every inch of your skin, memorizing the way your body moved. Slowly, his legs moved you backwards until your back pressed against a nearby tree. His fingers tracing the contour of your breasts beneath the fabric that hid them away, your nipples hardening at his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips.

“Zevlor~ Please- i-“

He silenced you with another kiss, his tongue parting your lips, his own need for you growing.

His fingers slipped beneath your pants, teasing your slick entrance, his claws gently scratching at the tender skin, earning him a low whine from the back of your throat, “Mnph~ Zevlor- Please-!”

Your hands traveled down his body, fumbling with the leather strap that held his pants up, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest as his mouth found your neck, kissing, licking and sucking, forever being the man he is and never leaving a mark. His own fingers slipping into you, pumping in and out carefully, his thumb circling your clit.

The world seemed to be spinning as you struggled to focus on anything other than his touch, his scent, and the pleasure that was building inside of you. Your fingers finally managed to release the catch that kept his pants up, and the moment it fell to the ground his cock sprang free, thick and heavy, the tip already leaking precum.

Taking him into your hands, stroking his length slowly, earning a sweet little hiss through his clenched teeth, “T-Tav-“

Zevlor’s fingers slipped out of you, leaving you feeling empty, only to quickly undo the belt of your own pants. Once his hands had freed your legs he pulled your pants off, throwing them into the pile his own pants had created.

You could feel his tail snake around your upper thigh, tightening its hold around your leg as his hand moved to the back of your other thigh, lifting you up with ease. Lining his cock up with your entrance, the tip rubbing against your wet folds, teasing your clit… Gods he was so warm, and so damn big-

And then, Zevlor slowly pushed his way into you, your back arching while your mouth fell open in a silent gasp… He was stretching you like no other had, his girth filling every inch of your aching pussy, making your toes curl and his name spilling from your lips.

You both stayed still for a moment, adjusting to the other, savoring the sensation of being joined, and Zevlor allowed you to move first, allowing you to set the pace. Your hips moved, grinding against his cock, and his head tilted back, his teeth clenched… A thick gulp bobbed in his throat as his fingers dug into your skin, his hips starting to rock with yours.

It started off slow and sensual, his mouth claiming yours, his tongue slipping between your lips.

And then the kiss became heated, more desperate and needy, the hunger in the pits of your stomachs growing and spreading. Your legs locking around his waist as the rhythm of his hips began to pick up, his cock slamming into you, making you cry out in bliss.

Your nails scratching his back, your lips marking his chest, his shoulder, anywhere you could reach, “d-don’t stop~ p-please Zev- don’t s-stop- a-ah- ah- oh~ oh gods~ mnn~”

His voice was barely a whisper, his hot breath hitting your neck as he nuzzled the sensitive skin, “Never.”

You could feel the coil inside you tighten, threatening to snap as your pussy began to clench around his cock, his name becoming a mantra on your lips. Zevlor could feel you were close, could smell the sweet perfume of your orgasm approaching, and it was driving him insane, his hips bucking into you, his cock bullying your insides, his teeth sinking into the junction between your neck and shoulder.

The sharp sting of his bite enough to send you over the edge, and as your pussy spasmed around him, your orgasm crashing down upon you, he buried himself inside you, his thighs trembling, the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix, flooding your womb with his seed, his seed filling every inch of your greedy pussy.

Your bodies shook, the aftershocks of the mind-blowing orgasm sending shivers through your whole being, and as Zevlor carefully pulled out of you, his cum leaking out and running down your thighs, the reality of the situation crashed upon you both.

There truly was no going back now.

Your hand moving up to the mark he had left on your skin, the sting still there, and when you pulled your hand away, a crimson hue greeted you.

Zevlor’s eyes grew wide as his mind registered what had happened, “Tav… I-I am sorry, I-I didn't mean to- i- I shouldn't have- i'm-i-“

His eyes were filled with fear and regret, his mind racing, cursing himself for letting his instincts take over, for being so damn careless, for acting like a damn devil-

But his words died in his throat as you moved a finger to his lips, “Shhhh, it's ok. Don't apologize... I... I don't regret it.It’ll be a nice little reminder of you when we have to travel our separate ways.”

Your heart broke a little at the thought, at the reality of the situation, but it was the truth. You knew that the time spent here would be short lived, and yet, in this moment, the idea of having to leave his side and never see him again hurt more than anything you could imagine.

His hand covered yours, holding it gently as he kissed the back of your palm, a soft sigh escaping him. He had wanted to be a man and not a devil for just a moment, and instead he had given in, unable to control the infernal half of himself he supposed.

“Zevlor,”

He hummed, not quite meeting your gaze.

“Promise me we will meet in Baldur's Gate.”

His eyes locked with yours, surprise evident in his gaze.

You smile, and he finds himself falling all over again, his heart melting, knowing he would do whatever it takes to see that smile of yours, to keep it alive, “I swear it by all the gods above, my light.”

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #tav #zevlor #zevlor bg3 #zevlor x tav #zevlor x reader #bg3 smut

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avocado-writing · 5 months

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hi!! ive.. gone and read so much of ur work in one sitting. its all so much to take in, IN A GOOD WAY, and i absolutely adore every single word

would u be so kind.. to bless my angst durge needs..

Durge Resist tav, was strong for all until the brain was finally defeated but now, with what she believed her only purpose/chance at redemption (brain), they can't help but feel utterly empty and,, unredeemed. They mourn all those they have robbed from this world, nameless, and countless numbers of people they robbed of the life that they were now being given the chance at living. Surely they don't deserve it(Is what they think..)

They are pathetically in love, and if they deserve anything, its to tell their special one just how much they are adored before casting themselves out of society (or taking their own life, if ur comfortable writing such things-)

Rolan, Dammon, Zevlor, maybe even Rugan if u write for that loser LMAO. just.. whoever u write for, its the tieflings i adore most ahegege

if this didnt make sense IM SORRY i havent slept in so long and sleep is not choosing me. i just crave angst, perhaps with a happy ending if u would indulge me so..!! thank u if u read this, so much!!

hi, I don't write fics about suicide, but here's the tiefling bachelors with a durge who's planning to disappear after the absolute is gone and giving them one final confession:

Dammon

senses something is wrong when you take him aside for a heart-to-heart.

it isn't that you avoid these sorts of moments per se, he just knows you only affirm your affections when something big is going to happen (you did it before you went off to fight the elder brain)

he holds your hand tightly, gets you to look him in the eye.

"I love you, no matter what, and I never want to be without you. tell me you'll be there when I wake up tomorrow. in our bed. swear it to me."

you can see the utter adoration he looks at you with, and you think: maybe you aren't so bad if a man like this can truly love you.

the next morning Dammon wakes up. you're not in bed next to him. he panics, getting to his feet - only to find you in the kitchen making breakfast.

he's never been so relieved. walks up behind you and wraps you in his arms. he loves you so dearly, and will keep on loving you until you believe yourself worthy of it.

Rolan

Rolan doesn't quite understand why you're having this great outburst, but chalks it down to emotions running high after the final battle.

says goodnight, kisses you, and heads off to his tower - he has a lot of admin to do after all.

the next morning he comes to meet you at the elfsong, only to be met with the realisation that you aren't there. he curses himself for not understanding why you were so melancholic last night.

he tracks you down. uses all of his resources to scry on you, grease palms with the money the tower has. he's up all night for weeks. Cal and Lia worry about him but he is determined.

and find you he does. manages to locate where you're hiding out, a little hamlet in the middle of nowhere. you burst into tears when you see him, and he just pulls you into his arms.

"come home with me."

you do, moving into his tower. and you never leave him again.

Zevlor

immediately knows something is wrong. takes you to a quiet place where the two of you can be alone and talk things out.

discusses how he feels like being a failure for breaking his oath -- but you always saw past that. saw the goodness in his soul. he wishes you would treat yourself with that kindness.

you begin to cry, softly at first, and then with sobs which wrack your whole body. he holds you ever so tightly.

"I love you. you are not who you were. you have strived to be better every day, fought against your own family, and always chosen a righteous path. you deserve to be happy. I'd want to make you happy, if you'd let me."

eventually your tears run dry and you look up into his face. his eyes are so sincere. he means every word.

when you kiss him, it's a promise: that you're with him for good. that whatever comes next, it will be faced together.

#zevlor x reader #zevlor x tav #zevlor x durge #rolan x reader #rolan x tav #rolan x durge #dammon x reader #dammon x tav #dammon x durge #my writing #request

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necroticyuzu · 7 months

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Every once in a while you decide to go through old game screenshots that are just collecting dust on the hard drive and remembering some details. Like I had completely forgotten how patch 6 of early access bg3 used to look so cold suddenly (so glad it did not stick) or that Rolan used to wear your standard wizard's robes until he upgraded to the sorcerer's more flashy robes for the full release that I've gotten so used to now. Guess he must have burnt his old one in favor of his new ones since he's now finally able to get to Baldur's Gate.

In hindsight, I wish I had taken more screenshots back then just to see all the changes over each patch just for fun. Think I got more screenshots of Zevlor alone out of all the Tieflings in the grove and Dammon I think I only got one old screenshot of.

Edit: Found Patch 5 Rolan Screenshot and added

#my screenshots #bg3 #bg3 rolan #bg3 early access #bg3 screenshots #rolan #rolan bg3 #bg3 tiefling

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the-dork-urge · 7 months

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|| Stone and earth || Zevlor X Tav

Summary: In which a cold Tav helps Zevlor and realizes how lonely it must be hidden away in a damp alcove. Just a quick little fic. (can even be a prequel to this ) Wordcount: 1235

Tav meticulously traced the intricate paths on the map, her brow furrowed in concentration. Despite their focus, an unyielding chill seemed to seep deeper into her bones with each passing moment; Tav longed for even a fleeting warmth.

A sidelong glance at Zevlor revealed a subtle flicker of orange fire dancing in his dark eyes. Tav's heart fluttered, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within her—feelings unspoken. The comfort she felt in his presence and the quickened pulse at the sound of his voice left her questioning: were these emotions born solely from shared hardships, or did they hint at something more profound?

Unfazed by the cold, Zevlor maintained focus on the maps. Recollections of the tieflings' natural warmth prompted Tav to subtly shift closer, seeking solace in his comforting heat.

As Tav pointed to the Goblin Camp on the map, her hand rested on the table's edge, the other hovering near the camp's perimeter. "Your scouts reported a guard patrol stationed here?" she inquired, her voice steady as she studied the markings.

Zevlor leaned forward, his hand finding a place near Tav's. Her breath caught as she felt the warmth of his hand close to hers. Distracted momentarily, Zevlor gently held her hand, nudging her pointing finger to align with the correct location on the map.

"There," he said, still holding onto her hand. "And those are likely not the only ones," Zevlor continued, withdrawing his hands with a throat clearing, his gaze flickering away.

"Astarion's silver tongue might grant you entry past the first. Sneaking past them all seems improbable," he explained, his eyes returning to the map, his mind still reeling from their touch. Wishing for the courage to reach out again, to express how much her presence meant to him.

"Then perhaps we'll have to confront them head-on instead," Tav contemplated, meeting Zevlor's gaze with a faint blush on her skin.

Zevlor's worry was evident as he looked down at Tav. He wanted to object, to caution against such a risky approach. Tav and the others were his only hope, and the thought of losing her, not having her counsel and kindness during evenings like this, was unbearable.

With a heavy heart, he spoke. "Are you up for that? I have nothing to offer you in this fight." Admitting his shame, he contemplated alternatives, his gaze falling upon the maps. "Sending out another scouting party might be wise," he suggested, his voice carrying the burden of recent losses. "But after the massacre at the gate, I doubt anyone is willing to risk it. I would go myself if I could, but I can't leave them defenseless, not while we are still in this snakepit." Bitterness coated his words, disappointment etched across his face.

Tav placed a hand on his shoulder, and Zevlor relaxed into the gesture. "I appreciate it. All I need from you right now is trust," Zevlor turned to meet her gaze, "and perhaps a little prayer." Tav smiled, a worry mirroring his own, acknowledging the limited options. They had to go in, find the Druid Halsin, defeat the Goblins—for herself, her party, the tieflings, and Zevlor.

"I can do that," he said, a smile barely masking his worries. "Thank you, Tav."With a subtle nod, Tav acknowledged his gratitude, warmth blossoming within her. "You are very welcome," she replied, pride coloring her words as she looked back at the maps. "Alright, well, since that's settled, how about we have a drink?" Zevlor suggested, a twinkle in his eyes and a smile breaking through his worries. "I bet you could use one—the last one for a couple of days."

Tav chuckled. "A drink sounds like just the thing to take the edge off," she agreed, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

Setting aside the maps, they made their way to a small alcove in the cave, bottles of spirits stashed within. Tav wondered if these were the last of Zevlor's provisions as he bent down to grab them.

"Are you sure you don't want to save them?" she interrupted, her concern evident in her voice. Longing for the warmth of the spirits, she felt it more appropriate for Zevlor to save them for a time when they could celebrate victories.

Zevlor chuckled, a hidden sadness behind his smile. "And then drink them by myself?" he joked, the weight of their situation underlying his tone. "Nonsense." Handing her one of the final bottles, he added, "Besides, it's just a small way to thank you."

Tav accepted the bottle with a grateful nod. "Then I shall accept the offer." With a soft pop, she opened the bottle, the sound echoing in the quiet alcove. Zevlor followed suit, mirroring her actions.

"To your courage," Zevlor toasted, lifting his bottle in the air.

"And to your kin," Tav replied, clinking their bottle necks together. As their gazes met, she sensed something in Zevlor's expression—a complexity she couldn't quite decipher.

"To my kin," Zevlor repeated softly, his voice filled with a mix of astonishment and gratitude. It was as if he couldn't quite believe that Tav would raise a toast for them. Yet, why was he still so surprised by her kindness?

As they made their way back to the table, Tav took a seat on its top, the warmth from the drink spreading through her chilled body. As she settled in, she couldn't help but cast a lingering gaze around the alcove. It was a small, dimly lit space, tucked away in the depths of the Grove. The dampness of the surroundings seeped into the air, mingling with the faint scent of earth and stone.

Her eyes traced over Zevlor's personal belongings scattered around the alcove. A sense of sadness washed over her as she realized how many evenings he must have spent here alone before she came to aid him. Mustering the courage to speak, she pressed the bottle to her lips, taking big gulps, before placing it down beside her, a question formed on her lips. ''Are you lonely Zevlor?'' Tav's eyes wandered to the corner where Zevlor's messy bedroll lay tucked away. She imagined his restless nights in dark and damp solitude, carrying the burden of leadership by himself.At least she had her companions near her as she carried the burden of leadership, with them beside her, every task felt severely less daunting.

"I- it's," he stumbled quietly, seeking refuge in the bottle before continuing, "Tilly, she helps me during the day, it's company but..." His words trailed off, and a heavy silence settled between them. "When it's dark, I face the world alone." Tav's heart ached at his admission. She reached out her hand, a silent gesture inviting him closer. "If you'd like, I can stay a while longer," she offered her words lingering in the air. Zevlor hesitated briefly before extending his hand, allowing Tav to draw him nearer to the table.

"I'm cold, Zevlor. Come sit beside me," she encouraged, feeling the warmth in his touch as he complied. As he settled beside her, he took one last sip from his bottle for courage, feeling Tav gently lean her head onto his shoulder.

"We're in this together, Zevlor," she whispered softly, her voice barely audible as she reached for his hand. Zevlor's heart swelled with gratitude at her words, squeezing her hand in return.

-> Masterlist

#zevlor #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #zevlor x tav #grove #fluff #ilovethisman

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