#zevlor fluff

[reverieblondie]

Could I request headcanons for Gale, Halsin, Wyll, and Astarion with touch starved gn s/o?

I ended up rewriting these a few times but I hope you enjoy reading it! Last Bullet point is NSFW!

Halsin 

Halsin would never say you were obvious, but figuring out you were touched starved was relatively easy to tell. Especially with the game you were playing, it was clear after the nth time you asked for healing from him from a mere paper cut on your finger. Though, could anyone really blame you? After spending so much time on the road, with no friendly touch for weeks, then when Halsin came to your aid to heal you from a particularly nasty hit from a goblin, That was the start of it, the aching for him; you had been healed by others before but…nobody did healing like Halsin. Most healers hover their hands over you, but Halisn would hold you, pressing his large but tender hands to your skin, letting his healing magic flow through from him to you; the touch would send tingling shivers through you; some would argue that it was from the magic…But you knew it was from his touch. Halsin was more than willing to help heal you every time; in fact, the consent wanting his touch helped you two connect. Halsin hoped you would confess you wanted him to hold you one day. But you never did. So when you came for healing from your “terribly painful stomach ache,” he knew he would have to make the first move. “I think I know the perfect solution to your problem,” he whispered before he wrapped you in a tight hug; every ache and pain melted away from his touch. It is truly the perfect medicine anytime you feel touch starved.

Every party of Halsin is perfection in your eyes. Oak father really did a fantastic job when it came to making him. However, the one place you’re always grabbing onto the most is his arms. It’s not hard to see why; it’s nearly impossible to keep from clinging to his massive limbs, snuggling into them, running your hands over his thick forearms. Halsin, the sweetheart, doesn’t seem to mind your clinging, even if he is busy carving away. Now that Halsin has noticed your fondness for his arms, he may or may not start to flex them subtly when gesturing or wearing shirts that expose them so you can see every slight rippling of his muscles. Halsin will let you cling to him as long as he can nuzzle into his favorite part of you later tonight…

Now usually you’re the needy one in the relationship, pleading for hugs and beaming every time you get wrapped up in Halsins arms. Today has been different, however. It started when you woke up with Halsins hands creasing your sides and snuggling into your neck, of course you melted at the touch, thoroughly relishing in the attention, but it didn’t end there. Usually, Halsin would walk through the woods for some meditation and to gather herbs and materials for you two, but today, he didn’t leave your side. Of course, you loved it, but a part of you was starting to get worried. When you brought it up, he grabbed your hands and held them to his chest, “I just find myself wanting to be near you, my heart.” You squeeze his large hands back, “Well, let me help you, my love.” rising to your tiptoes, you begin to pepper kisses all over Halsins face. He grabs your waist and lifts you to meet his lips with yours quickly; the kiss only makes him needier. 

He loves every part of you, from your hair to your adorable toes. But his hands consistently linger on your curves. On those days when you are feeling extra needy. Halsin is more than willing to help…In some inventive ways. The contrast is maddening… The smooth honey slips on top of your heated skin, and then Halsins rough tongue licks up the sticky liquid off your stomach. His hands guide your back to an arch as he keeps his hazel eyes on your moaning face. Sucking and licking as his hands continue to run over your squirming body. Halsin doesn’t know what is sweeter, the honey or you; he will spend all night trying to figure it out. 

Zevlor

Zevlor has been around for a while but was never too familiar with the term ‘Touched starved.’ Sure, he had heard it back in his commander days from soldiers whispering about needing attention of the flesh but never truly gave it too much thought…until. The idea came to him when he noticed a particular trait of yours. You had no special awareness when it came to him. Consistently, you were leaning into him quite closely, and when you two walked around during perimeter checks, you would often bump into him or brush your hand against his. Of course, you would apologize for your clumsiness, but deep down, you knew what was happening…Your body was burning for him, his warmth, his touch, and it was seeking it out in any way possible. It didn’t click so quickly for Zevlor until he saw you sparing, and there was no inclination of any clumsiness in your movements; even with others, he never saw you bump or run into anything; your movements were precise and calculated…and that’s when he figured it out you were touching him purposely. Zevlors first thought was, why? Then his second was how can he tell you to only ask him for his touch. Finally, one day, as you two were doing your usual perimeter check, you slowly inched closer and closer to him, seeking the slight relief of his touch. Still, as you went to bump into him for only a moment, you found the ex-hellrider wrapped his arms quickly around you keeping you to his warm chest. Eyes wide, you go to apologize, but Zevlor is quick to quiet your worries, “If you need my warmth…please don’t hesitate to ask me…” After that day, you got a hug from him every chance you could…

Zevlor enjoys the sweet intimacy of your relationship. At first, he was not used to someone wanting to hold him so closely and shower him with affection, but slowly, he is getting used to it and enjoying it immensely. Though, you still find ways to surprise him…For example, when you start paying particular attention to his cheeks and horns, you can’t stop wanting to hold his face so tenderly and whisper soft praises to him. “I’ve never seen beauty like yours, Zevy…” he feels his heart melt at every whisper and every gentle touch to his skin. Then, if you happen to caress the base of his horns? Well…you have never heard such a deep pur.  

 It had been the first day in a long while that you and Zevlor spent most of the day apart. He had promised to speak to some recruits in the city, sharing his wisdom, and you had opted to stay at home. You were expecting him to come home at any minute, so you were working hard to prepare a surprise dinner for him. You missed him being home; usually, you would spend the day working in your small garden together and setting out laundry on the line together. It was lonely without him, so you planned to show him how much you missed him. As you were finishing your stew, you felt arms snaking around your waist. You gasped before his familiar voice eased you, “Be still, my dear, it’s only me…” Your body immediately relaxes as you turn to hug him back. “How was your trip?” Zevlor only hums as he buries his head into your neck. “I missed you…the road was lonely without you by my side…” you rub your hands up and down his arms as they hug you. Then you feel one of his arms part from you and hear the stove turn off; before you can ask anything else, you’re lifted and carried away toward your shared room. “Zev! What- What about Dinner?” “It can wait…I need to be close to you, just for a while…” The stew wasn’t eaten until much later… 

“So beautiful…” his breath is warm as he whispers the complement into your neck. Zevlor��s lips caress your tender skin as he moves to your ear. You cling to his broad shoulders tighten, and your legs squeeze his textured hips. “You’re taking me so well. I’m proud of you.” The moan is involuntary as you feel him push deeper, his lips catching and nipping on your ear, his sharp teeth threatening to pierce, but his tongue soothing you so softly. Moving from your ear, you almost let out a whine before he blows a teasing breath on your neck, causing you to squirm and keen at the tickleing sensation. Zevlor’s fiery eyes look down at you, and that soft smile never fails to melt your core. He leans in, lips hovering over yours, his hands softly gliding down your waist, “I love you…” The vow is then sealed with a kiss. 

Wyll

Wyll hadn’t thought of you as touched starved until you had to tell him flat-out. To his credit, you didn’t make it easy for him to figure out. When Wyll thinks of the term touched starved, he thinks of someone like him. Someone always willing to give out a hug or a friendly pat on the back; if you’re touched starved and in the proximity of Wyll, you were not touched starved for long. Hells, Wyll would risk the burns of hugging Karlach if she so requested. You, on the other hand, would never seem to be receptive to his friendly gestures, having grown up in a home with little affection and living on the brutal road for a while with a pleasant touch would always be a shock to your system. Especially from Wyll, it was like lightning shooting through your body with a new surge of energy you didn’t know what to do with, so you would tense up. After feeling you clamp up, Wyll simply thought you didn’t like to be touched, so ever the gentleman, he stopped. But that only made you begin to grave him…Finally, after days of seeing him touch and hug your other friends, you felt yourself going to pop. In a spur of the moment, you walked into his tent, staring at his confused features; timidness threatened to take you over, so with shaking limbs, you held your arms open with a shaky beg of “Please…” Wyll’s smile would grow so wide as he embraced you. “I thought you didn’t like to be touched?” “I…I like it when you do it…I crave your embrace…” Wyll will never make you ask please for a hug again…but other things, he might…    

You couldn’t explain exactly why you love it so much, but you find you’re running your hands up and down Wylls strong back every time you get the chance. Maybe it was from seeing all its glory when he returned from the river or in the early mornings when he woke up for training. There’s just something about his broad shoulders that lean down to his narrow waist that makes your hands twitch to touch him. Wyll, of course, isn’t oblivious to how you take him in; that might be why he walks around without a shirt more often. His favorite part about liking his back is when you rest your head between his shoulder blades and hold onto him tightly. It never fails to put a smile on both your faces.  

Between the two of you, you’re the one who is always slow to wake. On a typical day, you usually wake up to an empty left side of the bed, but this morning is different. You wake up to your body being held by what looks like a sleeping Wyll. Your first instinct is to worry and check him for a fever, but you find that he feels normal, and when he wakes, he greets you with a lazy smirk. “Are you okay, Wyll? You’re usually up by now?” Wyll hums softly as his eyes lazily roam over your form, “I woke up earlier but found that I couldn’t part from you…” His sweet words always make you blush, and you go to say you're sorry out of habit, but you’re silenced by him gently stroking your cheek. “Well, How about I make breakfast for us? We could eat together.” As you rise, you are quickly grabbed and trapped within his arms, his lips attacking your neck in a plethora of kisses, making you giggle. “You’re not going anywhere…I am not done with you yet…”   

It’s always so slow, his hands sliding up and down your spread legs while your sex grows more and more aroused. One part of you wants to beg him to stop teasing you, but you both know that the loving pass of his hands on your skin is what you crave. Wyll keeps his eyes on yours as his lips press against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. The attention he gives you makes your mind hazy and your sex quiver in a way that only he causes. A moment of weakness causes you to moan his name. He will look down at your flushed face and smile against your skin before finally sliding his tongue on the spot you need him the most. 

Rolan

Rolan is very familiar with the term being touched starved, and from being accused of it by Cal and Lia relentlessly, he was aware of the traits. Not that he thought he ever showed these. Then came you, and it was the end of him being touched starved. Rolan, at first, didn’t understand why every time you were near, your hand would absentmindedly rub in between his shoulder blades or how when you would go out to the tavern, you would sit so close to him, and it wasn’t as if you were unaware of this. No, from how you would look at his curious gaze with a smirk and a sparkle in your eyes, he knew you were messing with him. Though despite this…you two kept hanging out. If anyone would ask you if you longed for touch, you would say you only wanted Rolans and you had no shame about it; you just wished one day he would indicate the touch for once. Finally, one night, Rolan invited you to the tower to do some reading, something you could do at home, but you wouldn’t dream of passing up a moment to be around him. You two had found yourselves on the chaste, sitting very closely, exchanging blushing looks over the edges of your books, and with every passing page, you two would find yourselves inching closer and closer. Then, as your thighs are pressed together, you feel a warmth wrapping around your ankle. Looking down, you see his tail wrapped around you loosely, unsurely. Rolan had finally taken the initiative, and you were beaming. “If it bothers you, I can-” But before he could finish his sentence, you wrapped his arm around you as you curled into him more. You could hear the rapid rushing of his heart, and you could feel how it matched your own. “It doesn’t bother me; I’ve just been wondering what’s been taking you so long…” The teasing only rewards you with a tighter hold. 

You find every part of Rolan to be utterly perfect, from his beautiful horns to his freckled cheeks to his toes. But the one part of him you constantly find yourself playing with is his tail, swaying and twitching like it has a mind of its own. You love to sneak behind him and run your fingers over the ridged base. The shiver and low growl he gives out every time makes you want to tease and touch him more, your hands becoming clammy for it. Today, you’re reading and mindlessly playing with the sharp tip till, finally, he’s curling the tail around your forearm and pulling you closer for a hungry kiss. He says he is being driven mad by your relentless teasing; you can only smile back before whispering, “Then you shouldn’t keep rewarding me…” 

Rolan tries not to let his neediness get the better of him…but some days, he can’t resist your pull on him. Every time he saw you today, his hands roamed over every curve, his nose in the crook of your neck, and he muttered things you couldn’t catch. The attention was well received as you loved his every touch, but when you parted from him to wash up for the night, the look on his face was utter devastation. “I will be quick, then all night I am yours.” Rolan tsked as he let you go, sitting down in his chair where he would wait for your return. You tried your best to hurry into the bath but were not quick enough. As you wet your hair to be ready for washing, you heard the door open and were greeted by the magnificent sight of Rolan in a small cloth wrapped around his waist. He motions for you to make room. He removes his towel and joins you in the bath. You are happy but utterly confused, and Rolan is quick to defend his actions as he gathers soap into his palm, “You took too long, so now I am here to help; now turn so I can wash your hair.” Without any protest, you turn and relish in the feeling of his clawed hands, washing and lathering the soap in your hair, taking the time to scratch your scalp as he cleans you gently. Maybe you should have him wash your hair every time? If you asked, Rolan would be happy, too.  

It started as a pleasant surprise; while you two were working at Sundries, his tail kept brushing against your butt, and when you two would be out of view from prying eyes, his hand would gently caress your ass. These are simple hints of his wants; you are always eager for his touch. Now here you are, pressed against the back wall with Rolan's needy hands grabbing tight handfuls of your butt. Pants are quickly discarded, and he gives you a quick slap to the soft exposed flesh for being such a naughty distraction. You keen and arch, grinding your ass against his burning erection. A deep moan when his nails dig into your flesh as he starts to rut into you deeply. Panting breaths, intertwined limbs, sweaty bodies desperately rocking against each other. It’s the night you learned that the Great Master Rolan is an ass man.  

Gale 

You never thought of yourself as touched starved; sure, you had points when you thought of being held or holding someone, but it was never something you would say you were starving for; well, that was until Gale. It was an accident when it happened; you two had offered to go to the morning market to gather supplies for dinner. The morning market was incredibly crowded, and you two kept getting separated. Gale, always the quick thinker, came up with the best solution. As he walked in front of you like a shield, he grabbed your hand and led you through. The gesture immediately stirred something within you, and as you walked hand in hand, looking at the back of him, you found yourself tightening your grip. During the rest of your time at the market, you two held each other’s hands. It wasn’t until you two returned to camp that you realized you held hands the whole way back. After that day, you reached out for his hand more often. Gale, of course, didn’t seem to mind. He liked the extra company, but getting you to let go so he could cut vegetables was challenging. After a while, you will find yourself craving more touches from Gale. So late one night, you crawled into his tent; when you woke him, he was initially surprised, asking you what you needed. “I…I think I’m touched starved…could…you hold me for a bit?” Gale’s heart nearly burst out of his chest, but he eagerly invites you into his arms, delighted to share in cuddles and maybe a few kisses.    

It should be no surprise your favorite place to touch Gale is his hands. They are perfectly soft and fit perfectly within yours. You find that your hands are interlocked together if you’re by him. Gale finds your need to hold him in some way lovely and ultimately endearing. Gale’s favorite times when you hold his hands is when you are fast asleep curled up with him in his bedroll, your hands interlaced with his. He doesn’t dare move them because he knows you will only start seeking them again in your sleep.   

You’re used to holding Gale’s hand, but on days he’s feeling needy, you find that his hands tend to roam. Today had been one of those days; his hands had started lazily, moving up and down your arms, gently grazing you all morning so tenderly. By the afternoon, his hands had found their way to run up and down your back, moving so slowly to send shivers through your body successfully. Then, in the Evening, they moved to trace your sides as his lips caressed the sensitive skin of your neck. Finally, you asked if he was well, his lips smiling against your skin. “Perfectly fine…just being needy for you…does it bother you?” you feel your skin flush, and your lips curl to an excited smile. “No, I like the attention from you…” Gale is always ready to shower you with attention; you just need to ask…   

The man didn’t lie when he told you he had a practiced tongue, and tonight, you are finding that out firsthand. You felt needy when you crawled into his tent; it was late, and he was surprisingly awake. At first, it was innocent, simple hand holding a kiss or two like other nights before to satisfy your need, but tonight, you’re finding your aching for more, and Gale knows this. All you need to do is ask…Your hands grip tightly to the blankets as his tongue works against you. Gales focuses as his hands grip your thighs, and he sucks and licks more. He’s desperate to taste your release all over his tongue, and with him always being so good to you, who are you to deny him? 

Astarion

With all he had been through, the feeling of being touched had become unstimulating. Astartion had felt every kind of touch possible. Well, at least that’s what he thought, until you. The energy between you two had been electric from the first moment; you were brilliant, and his usual charms didn’t make you bend like they did others. In fact, for all his teasing, you would give back your own. It was like a game between you two, and it only made you crave each other more. Then it hit its peak…You were admittedly getting lost in his words as he spoke to you, but it was different; it was genuine, and you had never felt so close to others. So when you gently brushed back his hair as he talked, you both found yourself looking at each other in surprise. Your weakness shocked you, and Astarion was surprised by someone touching him so gently, as if he were made of glass. Going to take back your hand, it’s quickly caught by his, and gentle lips pressing to your palm sets your skin ablaze. The kiss was as soft as your touch, but Astarion can never pass up an opportunity… “Couldn’t help yourself anymore, hm?” You would accept defeat this once…

Astarion has never been a fan of cuddling…well, not until he met you. And what did you do to make him change his mind on the slow and intimate activity? Astarion loves the way your fingers brush slowly and carefully through his hair. He finds he has gradually become needy for that soft, gentle touch. On the other hand, you love the feeling of his soft locks slipping through your fingers; actually, there are many things you can adore about Astarion; you find the soft touch of brushing through his hair always seems to relax you. You could spend all night with him in your arms like this…and you do. 

You didn’t know if it was your imagination, but Astarion seemed grumpy today. You had tried to joke around with him and even participate in some teasing and flirting, but he wasn’t receptive. Thinking it best to just drop it, you left him alone for the rest of the day, going about your usual task. Then Evening rolled around; you were getting ready for bed when you heard a throat clearing outside your tent. Poking your head out, you saw Astarion looking…bashful? “Do you mind…if I slept here…with you…I’ve…been feeling off…” One part of you wanted him to explain; he had ignored you, and now he wants to sleep in your tent with you? And wait, elves don’t sleep? But something about the look in his red eyes…he seemed…lonely…Gently, you reach your hand out to grab the sleeve of his shirt and pull him in softly. The rest of the night was spent with you sleeping with your head in his lap as he read to your sleeping form. Being around you made him feel so much better; it was as he thought…he was starting to rely on you, and for once, the thought of depending on another didn’t scare him. 

Sometimes, you can not decide who is needer between the two of you. Of course, you two tease each other about it, but Astarion is always the better tease. You’re rolling your eyes in both pleasure and annoyance as he moves his tongue across your chest, your nipples peaked and sensitive to every feathery touch. You try to keep your moans in, but it’s useless; “You make such pretty sounds, darling, keep it up.” His cold hands move between caressing your chest and your skin to find your sensitive nipples. Red eyes look up at you, filled with mischief. Is he satisfied with just a taste? Or will he bite…

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 headcannons #bg3 headcanons #bg3 smut #bg3 fluff #baldur's gate fic #baldur's gate 3 smut #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 #baldursgate #bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #bg3 wyll #bg3 gale #bg3 astarion #bg3 halsin #bg3 rolan #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #halsin x reader #rolan x reader #astarion x reader #gale x reader #wyll x reader #zevlor #astarion

[parvulous-writings]

Could I request headcanons for Wyll, Rolan, and Zevlor react to being stuck in close proximity with gn crush?

Warnings: None!

Notes: These may be a little short/uneven, but these were so cute to write!! Anon, you've become such a prominent asker, that I'd love to give you a nickname of some sort, if you're comfortable with that! <3  My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

Wyll

Wyll is a gentleman about the whole situation - or at least he tries to be. He gives you as much space as he is able to, even though he's squishing himself into a corner, he's more than happy to do that so that you're comfortable.

He tries to keep up conversation with you, to try and distract from the somewhat uncomfortable situation; mostly mundane questions, like 'What's your favourite...' or 'Have you ever...' It's also partly to distract you from the fact that his cheeks are burning hotter than the hells. Who'd have thought it'd be easy to fluster the Blade of Frontiers, even if it were only slightly, by being so near to him?

He cannot take his eyes off of you. Not even for a moment. He tries, at first, but finds it astronomically difficult, and eventually just gives in. He loves gazing at you - your presence brings him such peace, even in such a compromising position such as this.

Once the two of you are found/make your way out of the confined space, Wyll apologises - even though it was not his fault - and offers to make it up to you at some point, by however you see fit.

Rolan

Rolan is entirely speechless. He cannot find the words to say anything to you, not even a half-handed snappy quip. His eyes rarely meet yours, and are rather more often aimed off to the side, or somewhere above your heads. It's... Quite awkward.

You try anything to break the silence between the two of you; "Can you move your leg, please, Rolan?" Followed by a quiet shuffle as Rolan tries to move a little bit further from you but still remain comfortable. It is of little use on either front, but he tries. Any question of "how are you feeling?" Or "You okay?" is met with either complete silence, or a quiet grunt of acknowledgement.

Rolan doesn't know what to do, he's never been in a situation like this before - much less a situation where he can't find the words to express himself. His heart is pounding against his ribcage, harder than he can recall it ever being in his life. He's entirely tense, and he has no idea what to do; his normal confident facade has completely crumbled away, leaving little besides anxiety, and a slightly fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach whenever you speak.

The first chance he gets after the pair of you can separate, he all but disappears from view - for several hours. You had wanted to talk to him about it, but couldn't find him anywhere. Eventually you do find him, but as soon as you bring up the situation, he turns his gaze from you; "I... Would rather not dwell on the situation... If it's all the same to you." He's just too flustered still to be able to process any of it.

Zevlor

Zevlor is constantly asking how you're feeling. "Are you sure you're well?" followed a few minutes later with, "Is there anything you need? ... Yes, I am aware I can't go and get anything, but I'm sure you understand the sentiment..."

He constantly asks you if you're alright, comfortable, etc. Neither of you know how long you're going to be stuck in this situation, so is completely understanding of the constant need to shuffle to keep your limbs from going dead. This being said, he'll always tell you if he's going to try and move himself, just so that he can try not to kick you, and you can brace yourself just in case of this outcome.

He tells you of his time in Elturel before it's descent into Avernus, his time as a Hellrider, all sorts. He finds it very easy to share things with you, since he's so sweet on you - it would usually take some probing for anyone to get that kind of information out of him. But, since he would like to establish more of a relationship with you, he's willing to part with some of it.

Once the two of you are out in the open again, Zevlor double checks that you're okay. "I would have hoped to have had some of those conversations in a more... Traditional way. But, I suppose, one cannot deny the deft hands of fate, hm?"

#requests open #x reader requests #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 x reader #fluff #baldurs gate x reader #headcanons #wyll bg3 #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #wyll x reader #wyll x tav #wyll romance #bg3 rolan #rolan #rolan x reader #zevlor bg3 #bg3 zevlor #zevlor #zevlor x reader #rolan headcanons #zevlor headcanons

[drizztdohurtin]

BG3 Tiefling Headcanons

PLEASE note: sections 01 and 03 are headcanons made by the rest of the community that I essentially "subscribe to" and include in my personal lore of the game, so to speak, AND my writing! sections 02 and 04 are the ones that I came up with <3 and, of course, if you particularly enjoy any of them, feel free to use them!

MDNI

any topics in the community HCs that are bold are things that I elaborate on in other sections of the post

SFW

Section 01. Community HCs:

For the tails: I definitely agree that the middle-most section of the tail is the most acceptable place to touch, like family and friends might pull on it or something

I also love the idea that tiefling partners intertwine their tails!! if a tiefling is with a non-tielfing, they might wrap their tail around other parts of their body idly

love that the base of the tail is completely off-limits to everyone except romantic partners, and that it is quite sensitive around that area

However, I do have a disagreement with a popular tip-of-the-tail hc (see section 02)

The last thing about tails is that they communicate body language!! and I'm sure many of you have seen the comics about this, and I would definitely agree that both consciously and subconsciously, tieflings use their tails to express their feelings

Horns: I completely subscribe to the idea that the skin around the base of the horns is sensitive, but not the rest of the horns (see section 02)

I ADORE the idea that tieflings can pur!! I haven't seen many opinions on this hc, so I will give my opinions in section 02

I have seen a few people comment about this but no specific headcanons for it, so I will include it here: tieflings have a higher body temperature than other humanoid races! (see sections 02 and 04)

Section 02. My HCs:

first things first, I made an entire tieflings purring post because I couldn't fit all of my hcs for that on here.. and let's face it, it deserves its own post

the popular tip of the tail hc that I disagree with (respectfully!!) is that the tips of their tails are sensitive. this ties into why the rest of the horns aren't sensitive - the purpose of features like horns and tails with sharp or blunt ends is for combat/defense. when a body part is used for defense or for making attacks, it wouldn't make sense for that part of the body to have a bunch of nerve endings!

I'm not saying that I think tieflings actually use their horns or tails to fight, but just stating that that's what those features are anatomically meant for, so it's unlikely they'd have much feeling in their horns and the end of their tail

their elevated body temperature is just another one of their infernal traits. I think it's noticeably higher than other humanoids, similar to if you touched the back of your hand to someone with a high fever, but it's their entire body

they don't need as much clothing in the cold weather because of this, and they are very comfortable for other humanoid species to cuddle with <3 (and other things.... lets go section 04!!)

this very well could be something that others have brought up before but if not, I believe tiefling babies would be born without horns and their horns would come in during the teething process - and it would be equally uncomfortable as, if not more than, teething

to add onto that, the horns they grow as babies only continue to grow throughout their life, they never "fall out" or get replaced, so it's a very big deal if a tiefling breaks a horn (on top of how bad it would hurt)

they are to smell hormonal changes, only in their partners - and this is true even if a tiefling is dating a person of another race

TECHNICALLY pheromones as we know them are only detectable within one species, but this is my house and I say fuck it, they can smell changes in their partner no matter their race

if a tiefling's partner was about to start their period, or was about to ovulate, their brain would just kind of know

it would take a little while into the relationship for their body to fully be able to identify each smell, but it would happen gradually the more time they spend together

with that being said, however, they wouldn't magically know if their partner was pregnant unless their partner has been pregnant before then yes they would remember the scent

if it was their first pregnancy, they'd just register that they had a new smell, but wouldn't instinctively know why

my last one is really out of nowhere but tieflings don't get body odor 👍 they still have a natrual scent and they still sweat, they just don't get stinky like the rest of us

NSFW

Section 03. Community HCs

let's talk about cocks: RIDGES !!!!!!!!!!! (section 04)

big fan of the infernal markings on their dicks

this is something I've seen only a few times in my days as a tiefling smut connoisseur, but the idea of their dicks being shaped a little different compared to other races like elves or humans (I haven't seen much overlap/agreement about this so I'll give my opinion on shape in section 04)

100% agree that the base of the tail would be an erogenous zone, as well as the skin at the base of the horns

I've seen a few honorable mentions of the "mating bite" used in tiefling smut, and I'm here to say: what a great idea (section 04)

the mating bite isn't just a little nip, btw, it's a full-on clamping down on their partner kind of moment... might draw blood if you want it to hehe

Section 04. My HCs

a quick thing about the dick ridges: they are only visible when erect, and the harder they are the more prominent the ridges

their dicks are very commonly curved upwards and the shaft is, on average, thicker, and the tip is pointier than elven/human penises

on to my FAVORITE, possibly the best thought I've ever had: tiefling cum is hot

it's not hot enough to burn you by any means, but because their body temps are already raised, it's gonna be very noticeable for non-tieflings

the heat of their cum would probably be a very satisfying, pleasurable sensation for non-tiefling partners of a male tiefling

but aside from that, imagine the possibilities for those of us who have painful menstrual cramping, I see a lot of potential here y'all ☝☝☝

Since this is my house and I can say whatever I want, I also think that they don't go soft as quickly as the other races, and have shorter refractory periods

and just because I said so, they also ejaculate in larger quantities, which means their orgasms last longer

okay the "mating bite"..... my take on it is that it's used as a dominance thing, rather than an actual mating bite - keeping same-sex couples in mind

whoever is more dominant in that particular moment, or maybe in general, no matter the sex of either participants, may take some of their partner's skin between their teeth and bite down

the more intense the sex is, the harder the bite will be

my favorite time for this is when one or both of them is about to cum <33333

Masterlist

Thank you FOR READING <33333 I hope you all enjoy this as much as the purring headcanons

#my writing #my hcs #baby boy #karlach #serena the yap-atron 3000 #tiefling #headcanons #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #x reader #x tav #smut #fluff #brainrot #rolan #alfira #zevlor #baldurs gate 3 #shitpost #rolan posting

[viennacherries]

I encroach upon ye with a request

Zevlor breeding kink with like, his long term partner who can’t get pregnant for one reason or another (whether you write them as amab or an afab person who is sterile/lacking a functional uterus is up to you)

Zevlor deserves to be really a little bit feral about his partner yk?? Let the man loose himself, it’d be good for the self-loathing imo (/hj)

hi bestie!! my first time trying to write zevlor so i hope u like it! mwah

CONCEPTION

Zevlor/Tav | NSFW | 2,898 words

Summary:

“Tav…” He can hear the grumble in his own voice, watches as it washes over her and she shivers. “Come here.” She shakes her head slowly, a teasing smirk flitting across her face. When she speaks, it's a breath. “Come and get me.” ~~~ Tav and Zevlor want a baby, but things are rarely that simple.

Read it on AO3!

How long has it been now? Several months, at least. And yet he can't give her the one thing she yearns for more than anything. The gift of motherhood. 

Zevlor is certain it’s something wrong with him, because of course it must be. Perhaps it’s a punishment from the Gods for his failures against his kin. Perhaps they’ve deemed him unworthy and made him barren as penance for his sins. Him, an oath-broken paladin who couldn't resist the call of a false deity and sacrificed his people in his hubris, and her, the Hero of Baldur’s Gate who had been ready to sacrifice everything for a whole city of people she owed nothing to. He is broken and flawed in every way she is perfect and faultless. 

And, Hells , does it hurt. Because there's nothing he wants more than to make her happy. There’s nothing he wants more than to start a family with her, to see her hold their child in her arms and to place a kiss to both of their foreheads. There’s nothing more that he wants than to be a father and navigate the turmoils of parenthood with her by his side. 

And yet he keeps failing her. 

The worst part is, he’s fucking enjoying it. Laying with her every night, pumping his seed into her while she begs him to fill her. His infernal hindbrain lavishes in hearing her plead for his spend, in holding her down and filling her repeatedly, in watching his cum spill out of her and fingering it back inside her cunt to make sure not a drop is wasted. Some nights she’ll beg him to fuck her again and again, over and over until they’re both sore and exhausted, and he fucking loves it. 

But other nights, he’ll wake while the sky is still dark to a cold bed, and hear her sobbing in the other room. He’ll reach out his hand and be met with a small damp circle in the centre of the sheets, and he’ll know her cycle has come again. He’ll rise and find her, holding her while she sobs, and wonder how much longer he can stand to see her like this. 

And then they do it all again. 

He’s training in the low sun of the afternoon when she finds him, he feels her eyes on him and catches her leaning against a post from the corner of his vision. She looks radiant as always, wearing her favourite blouse and a skirt he doesn't recognise. 

He usually trains while she runs errands. It’s nothing as intensive as when he was a Hellrider; his joints complain far more these days. A young man he is not, but he still tries to keep himself in shape. Tav can more than hold her own, but he prides himself in feeling able to protect her, needs to know he’s strong enough to keep their family safe. So, when she travels into town for groceries, or visits the children at school to teach them about the Battle for Baldur’s Gate, he takes himself to the drill field on the outskirts and sharpens his sword. 

They’ve made their home in the burgeoning community Halsin has built in the Reclaimed Lands, and she’s absolutely thriving. Retirement from the adventuring life suits her. That's not to say she’s idle, but seeing her able to relax and travel for pleasure rather than a need to outmarch death fills him with joy. 

It’s been a few days since he’s seen her, her trip to the Grove taking longer than usual on this occasion. He’s a soldier, though, so of course he finishes his set before he turns to her (plus it sends a thrill through him, knowing she’s watching him, though he won't ever mention that to her). He wipes his brow along the back of his arm, spears his sword into the earth, and opens his arms wide to her. She giggles as she throws herself into his embrace and he swings her around in circles. That’s the other benefit to keeping up his training, being able to lift and carry her and hear the elated squeals she lets out. It makes him feel a far more youthful man than he is. 

Before he can ask how her trip went, she's kissing him deeply and smiling against his lips. Yet another way being with her makes him feel young; the way her every touch sends heat through his body as though he’s a virginal adolescent. Hells, he loves her so much. 

When she pulls away she’s grinning, and he can't help but return it. “Good journey, I take it?”

She laughs, and the sound is so weightless and musical it makes his head spin. 

“ Great trip! I have something for you - for us!”

He raises an eyebrow in question. She often brings him back little trinkets and treats from the Grove but it’s rare she’s this excited to give him them. 

Scratch bounds up to her before he can ask any questions and practically clings to her, and her beautiful laugh is back again. Whatever queries he may have had are forgotten as she kneels, cackling as Scratch smothers her face in sloppy kisses.

Usually she’ll bring back a brace of rabbits or pheasants that she’s hunted on the trek back, but she tells him excitedly as she brings out the meat for dinner that she managed to snag a deer. She stopped at a small trading post, where they butchered it for her and she traded them everything that wouldn't keep. She holds the venison steaks up proudly and he applauds her as she takes a deep bow, laughing her way through it. She also foraged some fresh herbs and wild garlic, and the traders gave her some asparagus and carrots in return for the doe. 

As usual, he offers to cook, and as usual he’s swatted out of the kitchen, so instead he vows to do the dishes and takes the time to set the table. He feels so lucky to be privy to the mundanity of domestic life with her, so he takes pride in setting their cutlery and placing the table mats down. He lights a few candles, too, because he’s nothing if not a romantic. Tav deserves candlelit dinners. 

He’s still not used to the way she looks after him. A lifetime of bachelorhood and swordsmanship doesn’t prepare a man for gentle touches and lovingly cooked meals. Zevlor considers himself a reasonably talented chef, and he’s not some invalid that never learnt how to do his own laundry, and yet Tav always insists on doing these things for him. He’s quite sure he’s never known a love like it. He’s so used to being relied on, and it took a long time to wrap his head around the idea of letting Tav carry some of his burdens. They lean on each other, they give each other balance and stability. 

Still, it’s always a competition to see who notices the washing on the line is dry first, and they’re often racing one another to take it down. 

Dinner is delicious, as always. The vegetables are roasted in honey and garlic, and she’s cooked the venison in butter which has it tender and flavourful. She even pours them both a glass of wine, and it pairs beautifully. 

When they’ve both eaten, the dishes washed and the candles extinguished, she’s practically vibrating with excitement. 

“My dear,” he says at last, as he watches her shuffling from one foot to the other, “are you going to tell me what has you so agitated?”

She grins and grabs his hand, standing in front of him, and the words burst from her almost immediately.

“It’s me, Zev. I’m the problem.”

He feels his face twist in confusion and sorrow. It’s not hard to deduce what she’s talking about, but he’s not quite sure why that fills her with such glee. 

“Tav… I’m sorry, I-”

She interrupts him with a finger over his lips. “No, no you don't understand. I spoke to Nettie. She says I can have children, I just don't ovulate at regular intervals. She said the reason we've not been able to conceive is because I have a hormone imbalance, not because either of us are sterile.” 

He lets her announcement wash over him. The thought that all of their issues have been poor timing and unfortunate happenstance is… Almost unbelievable. He’d resigned himself so fully to the idea that he was the issue, finding out that isn't the case makes his heart stop in his chest. 

“How do you-”

She interrupts again, “Nettie gave me a brew when I arrived, to balance my hormones. It’s why I stayed in the Grove a few extra days, so she could test them for me. She says everything is as it should be now. She says…” A blush rises over her cheeks, though the ecstatic smile over her features doesn't falter. “She says if we try now she suspects we’ll have no problems.”

He feels his own blush rising to his face, mostly due to the fact that Nettie now knows far more about his sex-life than he’d hoped to share with anyone ever . He opens his mouth to speak but she’s talking again before he can. 

“And, just to be safe, she brewed me a concoction with Mandrake. She said it tastes foul, but that it boosts fertility.” A smirk rises on her face, and she rises on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. Her breath is warm on his ear and he shivers. “I mixed it into my wine.”

The groan he lets out is involuntary, and it resonates low in his chest like a purr. The sudden switch from confused and sad to elated and turned on has his head spinning, and as she walks him backwards towards their bed he feels his cock rush to attention. 

A single hand in the centre of his chest pushes him back and down, and he sits staring at her from the mattress. She takes two steps backwards and slowly begins unbuttoning her blouse. 

“Zev…” His name on her tongue is like honey. He’s certain she does it on purpose and it drives him wild. “I want you to breed me, darling. Want you to fill me with your babies.”

He clenches his jaw and digs his nails into his thighs. He knows exactly what game she’s playing. She loves to unravel his sensibilities until he’s squirming - until he can't help but rut into her like a wild creature. She knows just how to toy with him to bring his infernal heritage to heel til she gets exactly what she wants. 

She chuckles at his reaction, because obviously she does. “You want that, love? Want to mount me and fill me up?”

The noise he makes at that is closer to a growl than anything else, and he nods tensely. She giggles and lets her blouse drop from her shoulders, and hells, of course she isn't wearing a brassiere. The realisation that she’s been planning this, waiting for this, drives him insane. Suddenly the new skirt makes far more sense. It takes all of his restraint to stay seated where he is.  

Tav brushes a thumb over each of her nipples and lets out an exaggerated keen, which has his cock twitching and straining against his trousers. 

“Tav…” He can hear the grumble in his own voice, watches as it washes over her and she shivers. “Come here.”

She shakes her head slowly, a teasing smirk flitting across her face. When she speaks, it's a breath. 

“ Come and get me .”

Every shred of control he has snaps and he’s on her in an instant, pulling her against his body in one long stride. He hikes her legs up around his waist and holds her there, drawing her as close to himself as he possibly can and bringing their lips together in a bruising kiss. She tightens her legs around him and moans into his mouth and, fuck, he wants her so badly. He spins and drops her down onto the bed, and she gasps as she lands on it. 

She looks a picture like this; skirt sitting high on her thighs with her tits hanging heavy on her chest. An image of her sitting like this, round and full with his child, fills his mind. He imagines her breasts full, imagines her body swelling with pregnancy, and Gods if it doesn't make his cock ache. 

“You…” His voice comes out strained, gravelled and thick. “Are such a tease . I try to be polite and you push…” He moves to stand closer, her head level with his stomach. “... and push…” He puts one hand on her shoulder, easing her backwards and hovering above her. Her legs fall open and he stands between them. “... and push …” He rolls his hips against her core and she throws her head backwards with a moan. “... until I can't help but fold you over, hm? Is that what you want, my love? You want me to use your body til you’re good and bred?”

Hells, she’s making so many needy noises and he’s barely touched her yet. She nods hurriedly, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning up to suck a bruise onto his neck, and fuck he loves when she marks him. He moans and tips his head to give her better access, and he feels Tav smile against his skin as she nibbles at him. 

He slips a hand under her skirt and moans at the realisation that she’s not wearing underclothes either. 

“Hells, Tav, you’re so needy for it. You sat there like this the whole time we ate, desperate for me, hm?”

“ Yes , Zev, Gods . Need you.” Her voice is breathy.

He wants to be teasing, wants to wind her up the way she does to him, but he’s not strong enough. Hearing her beg for him has his face full of heat and has his head swimming. “Can I taste you, love?”

She starts to give her assent, but he’s dropping to his knees before she even finishes getting the words out, lifting her skirt and burying his face in her core. The scent of her drives him wild, and the taste of her musk on his tongue as he drags it through her slick has him moaning into her. Her hands lace into his hair as he sucks her clit between his lips, teasing and tasting her until she’s writhing and keening and cumming into his mouth. 

She drags him back up, kisses him deeply, and the feeling of her tongue massaging against his is so erotic that he can't help grinding against her again. He can feel the wet heat of her cunt leaving a damp patch on the front of his trousers and he knows he can't wait any longer to have her. 

He manages to pry himself away and strips unceremoniously, letting himself languish for a moment in the heated way she stares at his body. The scars and infernal ridges littering his body have always, to him, been unattractive, but she looks at him every time like she can't bear to look away. No one has ever looked at him the way Tav does, and it lights his whole being on fire. 

There's no more conversation needed. He lays himself over her, folds her legs up towards her chest and sinks deep into her heat, and she throws her head back and whines as he fills her. With her legs pushed up like this he can fill her entirely, and the way she clenches around him has him gritting his teeth and grinding deeper into her body. 

“I’ll keep you here all night, if that's what you want, love. Fill you til you’re certain you’ll burst. Can't wait to see you full with my child.”

She tries to reply, but he chooses that moment to fill her with a deep thrust from tip to root, and her eyes roll back into her head as she frees a leg from his grip, digging a heel into his rear and pulling him deeper. With every thrust of his hips she keens, louder and louder until her cries reach a crescendo, and then she’s sobbing her way through her second orgasm and clenching her walls around his cock. 

The wet, tight squeeze of her cunt means it doesn't take long for him to reach his own end, spilling himself inside her just like she asked, kissing her lovingly through it. Every twitch of his cock makes her sigh and clench him harder, milking him of every drop of his cum until he’s laying boneless over her. 

Their heavy breaths mingle together as they share deep, meaningful kisses. When he tries to remove himself from her, she wraps her legs around him and shakes her head. 

“You said you’d keep me here all night. I hope you intend to keep that promise. I want… I want you to stay inside. I want to feel you get hard, and then I want you to fuck me full again.”

And hells, her words have his spent cock twitching valiantly, aching to take her again despite it being too soon, so he tells her yes as he leans in to kiss her again. 

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 smut #bg3 requests #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 fluff #zevlor bg3 #bg3 zevlor #zevlor #zevlor x tav

[demigoddessqueens]

help you relax

A part 1 of giving a massage/fluff series

found on MASTERLIST 10

Gale

He lets out small moans of relief as you work along his shoulders and back, getting all the knots out

Wyll

Likes to pepper hand kisses along you when you massage his shoulders, back, horns

Halsin

Low grunts and sighs of relief and adoration as your hands wander along those massive shoulder and back muscles

Shadowheart

She really likes them! Like so much so if she’s feeling a bit “neglected” she’ll move between your arms for attention

Karlach

So vocal!! Post-touch, she’s all down for them and runs hot when you get the knots out of her shoulders

Lae’zel

It’s a slow and steady process, but the warrior soon melts into your gentle touch and massages sometimes go on for hours if she wants

Astarion

Offers commentary when you massage him, as in “lower darling, oh! right there—perfect!”

Obliges to give you a massage back

Zevlor

Is so flattered that you would volunteer, and has a load of compliments to release about your “magic” hands

Dammon

Cannot hide his blush as you massage him, thinking he’s taking too much of your time despite your insistence he needs a break from smith work

Rolan

He will try to protest and argue but ultimately gives in to your touch

You hear a few low purrs of relief when you with the knots out

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion x mc #astarion bg3 #my writing #headcanons #bg3 rolan #rolan x tav #tavstarion #karlach #bg3 #bg3 astarion #karlach x tav #lae'zel #bg3 gale #bg3 wyll #bg3 tav #rolan bg3 #wyll ravengard #wyll x tav #dammon #zevlor #baldur's gate 3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #shadowheart #shadowheart x tav #fluff headcanons #fluff hcs #lae’zel x tav #halsin #halsin bg3

[eyebagshawty]

Did you get a request? It's Headcanons + Blurbs for Being Taken Care of/Washed by Tav for Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor. Thanks!

Headcanons + Blurbs for Being Taken Care of/Washed by Tav (Part 2)

A/N: Every picture is from Pinterest (y’all are artists I swear!), as well as the ones in part one. If you recognize one that is yours, please let me know and I will credit you.

Characters: Dammon, Rolan, Zevlor

Part 1

Dammon

• You and Dammon had been flirty ever since meeting in the grove

• At Last Light, you finally get the courage to offer washing up with him in hopes you might become something more than good friends

• When you ask, he genuinely thinks you’re pranking him

• Like genuinely

• “Very funny, Tav. Now did you need something??”

• “Dammon, I’m serious. You’re telling me a little massage wouldn’t be a great gift for repairing Karlach’s heart?” You motion your fingers in the shape of a heart with a cheeky grin plastered on your face

• When he realizes you aren’t kidding, the wine he’s been sipping spews onto the ground

• His blush is furious, his eyes are like saucers, and his mouth is clamped shut

• “That would…. That would be nice,” he mumbles shyly, “Just tell me when and where and I’ll meet you.” His fingers brush against yours and he’s SO SHY as he walks back to the bar

You draw a bath in the massive tub in the private room Jaheira let you stay in. You hear a curt knock at the door, and tighten your robe. “Astarion I swear if you want food after so clearly declining earlier I swea-“. As you open the door ready to give the vampire spawn a piece of your mind, you’re met face to face with Dammon, who is sporting a very bewildered expression. Your face goes beet red and your mouth promptly closes.

He gives a light chuckle at the embarrassment on your face. “Just finished up work for the day, who knew so many harpers break their weapons so often?” You step to the side and to let him in, and he looks at your surroundings; your laid out armor and evening clothes, your journal that sits on the bedside table, and the long sword he’d gifted you (he really was down bad, he thought to himself) after you’d defeated the goblin camp.

When he looks back over to you, you’re already submerged in the hot water, looking shyly his way. Without a word passing through both of your lips, but an entire conversation being passed through eyes, he slowly undresses as you watch. The tension could be cut with a knife. He slides into the tub, and you take his hand in yours. “I’ve had feelings for you for a long time, Dammon… ever since this tadpole debacle started.”

His tail involuntarily flicks to wrap around your waist, his eyes widening as he tightens his grip on your hand. “I feel the same, I never thought my time in Avernus would lead me to you,” he whispers as he leans closer to you, his lips hovering over yours. Just when they’re about to meet, you smile teasingly and move away, grabbing the provided soap and tenderly scrubbing around his horns. He moans softly as he brings you closer to him, his hands wrapping around your waist. “Darling… is this okay? With you?” His voice is breathy as you continue to wash and work out soap in his hair.

“Of course it is,” you whisper back, and you press a soft peck to his lips. He instantly melts as you continue to scrub soap into his shoulders and back, kissing your arms, your chest, anywhere he can reach.

Rolan

• You and Rolan had already been together at the tiefling party, so his face morphs into a smug smirk when you offer to wash up with him at Last Light

• “Well, future hero of Baldur’s Gate, back for more?” His tail wraps around your calf and you shoot him a playful glare as your cheeks burn and your heart flutters

• Karlach and Shadowheart are just grinning smugly from across the room, and you try to ignore it but his tail yanks your leg a bit, and you stumble into his arms

• “Trip over something, hero?”

• You swat at his chest, “Wouldn’t you like to know wizard boy, go find an orb to ponder,” you huff out

• He squeezes your cheeks together and chuckles, “Give me ten minutes, darling. I’ll be there.” And with that you promptly run away to Shadowheart and Karlach who bombard you with questions

As you wait in your room, the bath filled with hot water and the scent of rose oil lingering in the air, you think about the time you’d spent with Rolan over the course of your journey. Complimenting him on his apprenticeship after convincing him to stay in the grove, having sex at the celebration after defeating the goblins, and how he’d insulted you when Cal and Lia went missing. You’d say your relationship with him was complicated — you didn’t even know if he liked you really.

With a sharp knock on your door you bolted up and answered. “Hello princess, the most talented wizard of this generation is hence at your service.” You chuckled at his cockiness.

“Hello to you too Rolan, come in, please.” As you stepped aside to let him in, he placed his hand on your hip to move by, his lips surprisingly close to yours as his tail swished back and forth. He looked down to your lips, back to your eyes, and kept walking. He immediately stripped down his robes, only to laugh at your beet red face.

“What’s the matter hero? You’ve seen me before,” he laughed. However, you could see an inkling of softness in his eyes and a small blush darkening his cheeks. You roll your eyes and begin to remove your medium armor. Rolan sees you struggling a bit and comes up behind you, pressing your back against him as he undoes the clasps. The room is quiet, but boy oh boy if your heart isn’t SINGING. You both sink into the tub, and you begin to lather soap into his horns. He moans softly as you continue scrubbing into the base of his horns, gathering water into a pitcher and washing soap away. “I’m sorry about everything I said when you first got here, darling.”

Your motions pause but a moment in surprise, but you continue with the performance of nonchalance, rubbing soap across his shoulders and chest. “Oh yeah?” As you reach to scrub at his back, his hand grabs your wrist and he kisses it.

“Yes. I was out of line out of fear and you didn’t deserve it. I… care about you.” You give him a beaming smile and throw your arms around him, the water sloshing around and onto the floor. He kisses the crown of your head, rubbing his hands across your back. “That’s a mess I am not cleaning up, by the way.”

Zevlor

• You offer to wash up with him at the celebration after defeating the goblin camp, and like Dammon, he also thinks you’re messing with him

• “You’re drunk, little one. You did wonderfully and I’m so proud, but you definitely need your rest.” He places his hand on your lower back to steady you, looking anywhere but into your eyes

• You put your hand on his chest and giggle, “Sorry I just… wanted to get to know you better,” you keep drunkenly laughing and like,,, the man thinks he might combust when he realizes you’re dead serious

• Your eyes widen when his tail unconsciously wraps around your thigh, squeezing lightly in eager affection

• IT HAS BEEN SO LONG SINCE THIS MAN HAS FELT WANTED PLEAAASSEEE

• He leans down and whispers softly into your ear, “Meet me at the river once the party has died down, my dear.” And with one last squeeze his tail pulls away and he walks back into the crowd flustered as all hells

When the campfire is snuffed out and most people are off in their own bedrolls or having huddled conversations, you make your way to the shore. You dig your feet into the soft sand and remove your evening clothes, letting your hair fall free from its practical braid. You make your way into the water, submerging your head and sighing with relief. When you look back to the shore you see Zevlor, his eyes wide and his jaw hanging in awe.

You give him a warm smile and beckon him towards you. He grins shyly in return, his tail flicking wildly behind him in excitement that he tries to suppress. He removes his armor and strides into the water towards you. He gathers you so that you’re floating in his lap, and ohmygod he’s nervous. You kiss his cheeks and get to work on his horns and his hair, his tail involuntarily wrapping affectionately and protectively around your waist.

“I can’t tell you how thankful I am darling… not many people are willing to help us infernal creatures,” he whispers, but he spits out the word infernal bitterly. You stroke his cheek tenderly with your thumb.

“Don’t say stuff like that. You deserved our help through and through, and I wanted to help you. Whatever my companions thought be damned,” you whisper back, “How hard is it for you to see that I care for you?” You kiss his temple and hover so that your lips are ghosting over his. He lets out a quiet sob, tears streaming down his face at your kindness. He eagerly presses his lips to yours, his hands grabbing anywhere they can touch. You kneed your fingers into his hair and moan softly. When you pull away he whines, his tail squeezing around your waist.

“Thank you.” You kiss his cheeks once more and continue rubbing soap into his warm skin, brushing away each of his tears as you work.

#fanfic #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 rolan #bg3 zevlor #bg3 romance #bg3 dammon #rolan x reader #zevlor x reader #dammon x reader #fluff #astarion cameo #shadowheart cameo #karlach cameo

[lilyslemonadestand]

Hi! Can I request tieflings with touch starved Tav? 💫

touch starved.

a/n: this probably /definitely/ should've been an actual fic. i like... mixed an actual plot with headcanons IDKKK i'm new alright. at least i finished a blog for once. pat me on the back for that! also, i've never written for any of them, so lmk if you have critiques!! AND LEAVE MORE TIEF BOYS ASK I AM OBSESSED. loved this request btw!!! hope i did it justice!

warnings: nothing this is so fluffy and innocent.

rolan.

• out of the three of the tieflings, he's definitely the most touch starved.

• i mean he's literally never been touched by anyone besides his siblings, and that's mostly just them smacking him.

• after a long day of getting your ass kicked /and maybe accidentally walking into your own moonbeam once/ you decided to visit sorcerer sundries alone to check up on your old friend.

• evidently, rolan had a equally horrible day. well, it was the same as usual, but rolan was more bitchy.

• when he saw you though, all of his irritation and annoyance flooded from his body, and it seemed like he completely lit up.

• "new bruise?" she asked, watching as the corner of his lips turned upwards. a genuine, non-snarky smile was rare from rolan. he rolled his amber eyes at you, nodding regardless.

• "new scar on your nose, hm?" rolan retorted, and your hand went up to rub at the bridge of your nose. you hadn't even realized that you'd been bleeding there. huh. at least it'd be a cool place for a scar.

• before either of you realized it, rolan's hands were clasped around one of yours, his thumb rubbing circles onto your palm. you froze. who even knew how long it'd been since you'd been touched like that--- if ever. even gale brushing shoulders with you made you tense up, let alone a touch by a really cute tiefling.

• he notices your reaction and can't help but laugh, making the tip of your ears flush pink, and you glared at him. rolan's freckled cheeks are just as warm as yours.

• "i've been worried about you, you know." he blurts out, and for a second he pictured cal and lia teasing him for hours on end. they all knew he liked tav, and had ever sense their brief encounter at the grove, her fierceness leaving him staring with wide eyes and a blushed face. ever since then, they never shut up about his little crush.

• "i know." you whispered, and you finally relaxed into his touch. rolan kept looking down at your shared hands. "but i'm not the one with fresh bruises."

• rolan clicked his tongue in annoyance, wishing he wasn't completely marked up by lorroakan, but he had no say in the matter. he figured you knew why he had these marks.

• "lorroakan isn't the best teacher in the world, i'll admit. don't worry about me though." rolan grumbled out. ah yes, this tone was the rolan she remembered. the grumpy one.

• your hands move to tuck a piece of hair behind his ears before brushing your knuckles gently across the fresh bruise on his jaw. rolan turned his gaze to the ground, and you heard him whining out some form of insult as your hand grazed his skin.

• "your skin's warm," you mumble regardless. "i could always kill him, y'know. well, i'm going to anyway. but i could speed it for you. and uhm--- i know a pretty decent wizard. gale, the one you met? much better than that asshole. he'd love to train you." you slightly ramble, and rolan watches as you fidget with your left hand, so he squeezes it gently. "i mean, i'd like you to... join too."

• "thank you, tav. i'll think about it." rolan's already made up his mind. he'd work for anyone as long as it wasn't lorroakan. he pressed a few kisses along your knuckles before dropping your hand.

• rolan can guess by the way you react to his touch that you're as touch starved as him and after that, it basically becomes a competition to see who can fluster each other more. /he does not win./

dammon.

• dammon is naturally very touchy. he talks with his hands and with his tail, so usually one of two will end up on the friends he talks to.

• with you, he's a little more shy, though. more careful, one could say. anytime you spoke, his sharp blue eyes were on yours, and he concentrated more on making sure he wasn't practically wagging his damn tail at you.

• today, you had your arms folded as you sat on one of the crates in the corner of his forge. dammon was finishing up a dagger for you, /his work too heavy for your liking, but you needed an excuse to talk to him, so you'd give them to astarion/ and you had been talking his ear off about your latest adventure.

• dammon didn't mind at all, humming in acknowledgement while he finished wiping the oil off of the blade.

• "here. crafted with love and care." the teifling teased, handing you your new weapon to inspect. and it was beautiful, perhaps one of the finest daggers you'd seen, with a lovely intricate design. dammon had made you plenty before, but each weapon and armor was just as beautiful. your eyes marveled at it, smiling before rummaging around your belt for your bag of coins.

• "it's lovely as always, dammon. thank you!" you beamed and you noticed his tail flicker from behind him. "and how much do i owe you again?"

• "you brought all the material's, my friend. and you brought me company today. how about you let me take you for a walk and we call it even?"

• his words felt like he'd just asked you on a date, but you jumped up from your place on the box, nodding enthusiastically.

• the heart of baldur's gate was much more relaxing in the evening. it wasn't god awfully hot, and the sky muted to a warm fuschia. and you couldn't help but admire the way dammon looked with his work sleeves rolled up, a content smile on his face as he led you through the streets.

•honestly, it was obvious to everyone besides you two that you two liked each other. dammon was oblivious, and, well... you just figured it wasn't safe enough to get into a relationship.

• little did you know, someone named karlach accidentally shared to dammon that you may have a thing for him.

• "so... are you going to continue that story about wyll?" dammon asked sweetly and you felt his tail move up towards the small of your back. like he was holding it while you two walked. at first you tried to ignore it, but the small act of touch made your face heat up.

• dammon must have noticed because he dropped his tail, instead moving to intertwine your fingers together.

• thankfully, the story of wyll was too good to keep quiet, so you were able to lean into his touch, dammon's eyes twinkling as you started to ramble on.

• also, once dammon notices just how touch starved you are, he will literally not be able to keep his hands off of you.

• massages, hand holding, wrapping his tail around your calf, rustling your hair when you say something silly--- definitely the touchiest out of the three.

zevlor.

• zevlor is also extremely touch starved, maybe more than rolan, he's just not as obvious. unlike the two younger boys, he feels like he's too old for feelings, especially for warriors like yourself.

• and unlike the two younger boys, zevlor's much better at hiding his feelings. his tail doesn't swing behind him, he doesn't flush like rolan, and he doesn't really speak on feelings like dammon.

• zevlor does admire you though, that much is obvious from his flaming rust eyes watching you carefully as you sneaked from conversation to conversation. you were strong and a leader just like him. it made you two have a lot in common.

• zevlor was tense when you approached him. most of the younger tieflings were laughing away, dancing even, all drunk as can be. the paladin had a chalice of wine in his hand, shoved forcefully by a certain large druid, but he had not yet even taken a sip. how could he? he had much on his mind.

• "drinking tonight?" you asked brightly, your smile enticing as you peered up at him while taking a swig of your own wine. your nose scrunched in disgust at the taste; tiefling wine wasn't most people's preferred choice for alcohol.

• zevlor chuckled and shook his head, tilting his glass slightly, so she could see that it was still full.

• "i've got too much to deal with--- tomorrow's trek will not be a simple task, tav." zevlor replied, setting down the glass on the table next to them.

• you frowned. that couldn't do. if you could relax, so could he. even leaders deserve their chance to have fun.

• "you deserve one good night of fun before tomorrow." you smiled. the teifling nodded his head slowly, tiredly rubbing his eyes.

• "that'd be nice... if i'm being honest. i just can't let them down." he mumbled, the stress from the journey showing in his face.

• "and look around zev. they're all drunk anyways. nobodies watching you tonight, so just relax."

• you were right. nobody was looking at either of them. most were drunk, and the ones that weren't were chatting away with halsin. it didn't take long for a small smile to creep up to his mouth. zevlor took the cup from her, and took a drink out of it. he mirrored her nose scrunch. wow. it really was cheap wine.

• with a fleeting moment of confidence, /or alcohol/ zevlor pulled you into a hug. at first, you didn't hug back. you were shocked. you hadn't had a hug in... what? weeks? months? years? and clearly, he hadn't either. you both seemed to really have needed it, too, because you instantly melted into his arms, and his grip only tightened. you could hear his heart thumping against his chest. yours was equally loud.

• "you've done great by them. i know you'll keep them safe. but in the meantime, you need to take care of yourself too."

• zevlor laughed against your hair, your encouraging words enough to make the old paladin's eyes water. he hadn't heard words as soft as yours in a very, very long time. and it was enough to keep him going.

• he wiped the forming tears quickly away with his sleeve, not wanting to burden you any further with his emotions.

• from then on, zevlor is very comfortable hugging you. whenever he sees you, whether it's in the mind flayer colony, in baldur's gate, or anywhere else, be prepared for a very bone crushing hug. when he feels fancy, he'll even spin you a little.

• all of his touch is very polite and romantic. you both deserve and need it.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 rolan #bg3 dammon #bg3 zevlor #rolan x tav #rolan x reader #dammon x tav #dammon x reader #zevlor x tav #zevlor x reader #tiefling #fluff

[arctophyllax]

Zevlor deserves someone to hold his face in their hands and lose themselves in his eyes, he would absolutely melt.

He deserves someone to shower him with sweet little kisses, all over his forehead, the ridges at his cheekbones, his nose, over his eyelids, over his lips.

Someone to play with his hair as he rests his head in their lap, someone to undo the little hair tie and run their hands through his hair, nails gently scratching against his scalp.

Quiet, whispered praise, god, so much praise. Tell him how sweet he is, how beautiful his he, how good he’s doing. Make him feel worthy, make him feel loved. Make him forget about his worries for just a moment.

He needs love, a lot of it. I’d kill for him to feel loved, i’d do unspeakable things. I desperately need him to feel loved.

#bg3 zevlor #bg3 #zevlor #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 fluff

[xxhexwolfxx]

Did you get a request? It's dating headcanons for Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with gn s/o. Thanks!

𝒟𝒜𝒯ℐ𝒩𝒢 ℋ𝒞𝒮

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! :] It’s a bit short but I promise as I continue to write it’ll get better!

DISCLAIMER: All of these are not connected really. It’s just a bunch of random things I thought about them.

WARNINGS: Just a bit suggestive in Haarlep’s part.

CHARACTERS INCLUDE: Zevlor, Haarlep, Rolan, and Dammon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zevlor:

I totally believe this man’s love language is physical touch.

LOVES cuddles. He went a long time without them. Now he can’t sleep without them.

I think after Act 2, he’ll be more protective over you. He would hate himself if you got hurt.

Might be insecure about the age gape between you two. PLEASE reassure this man.

I think he would love it if you play with his tail. I think it could be very relaxing for him.

Loves to go on walks with you. If you’re any race with a tail then his tail is wrapped around yours as you walk.

Haarlep:

Even though they’re an incubus I think they would be really romantic.

They’ll love to keep touching you. His arm is constantly around you.

Constant compliments. Doesn’t matter if you just woke up or crawled through mud. You’re still beautiful/handsome to him.

Plenty of dirty jokes and wandering hands. It’s not a surprise if you find his hands somewhere they don’t belong.

If they are in a form with wings then they’ll pull you close with them and trap you against his body. Can’t leave if you can’t get out.

I think he’ll be fine with sharing you with Raphael but if you’re uncomfortable with it then he’ll keep you separated.

Rolan:

This man is SUPER high maintenance.

Needs constant praise. He works so hard for you!

Mans complains about getting affection from you but if you stop giving him affection then he’ll act like you committed the worst crime imaginable.

He’ll proudly tell everyone you two are dating. Will brag about ANYTHING you do.

If you have nightmares or are unable to sleep, then he’ll do a magic show to lure you to sleep or to take your mind off of what’s bothering you.

Dammon:

I think Dammon would be so flustered when asking you out. Even after a while of dating he would still blush from affection or even just looking at you.

When he’s busy, he will keep his tail around you. It’s just so he knows that you’re there and he wants to hold you.

He enjoys looking at you. Knowing you’re okay and near makes him feel a lot better.

Dammon’s hands are definitely rough from working in the forge. He loves to feel your hands compared to his calloused ones.

When he comes back from the forge he always tries to get some flowers for you. If you’re allergic then he’ll get your favorite snack instead.

When you share a bed, he’s always wraps around you. He’s arms are holding you close as his tail makes sure you don’t go far.

#bg3 x reader #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 rolan #bg3 dammon #bg3 haarlep #bg3 zevlor #dammon x reader #zevlor x reader #haarlep x reader #rolan x reader #reader insert #fluff #bg3 headcanons #baldur’s gate 3 headcanon

[sorcerous-caress]

Hi I hope your having a good day by the time you read this! I was hoping I could request Minthara, Karlach, Gale, and Zevlor (If you write for him) reacting to a Tav that looks visibly under the weather but ignores it to continue to do things rather than resting?

Heh I’ve got a cold that’s kicking my ass rn but even tho it’s the week before thanksgiving break my college classes are piling me with stuff to do ya know?

I'm currently dealing with similar things, anon. Life demands us to function even at our worst sometimes. The migranes can be ruthless. Please make sure to rest and take care of yourself. You're more important than your assignments and classes.

Dealing with a stressed Tav who refuses to rest.

[Fluff, comfort, nb!reader]

[Minthara, Karlach, Gale, Zevlor]

Minthara

As cruel and cold as she tends to be, there is certainly some tenderness deep inside her heart that's saved solely for you.

If it was someone else, she wouldn't have cared. If anything she expects her followers to work themselves to the death if it benfited her, she has no tolerance for the weak.

And yet, every principle she has ever held goes straight out the window when it comes to you. The sight of your visibly tired face and exhausted body makes her furrow her eyebrows in worry, forms a tightness in her chest.

She respects you immensely, and she knows for a fact you're not weak. If anything you're stronger than anyone she has ever met before.

Minthara wants to show that she can be strong for you too, prove herself as the capable and reliable partner you entrusted your heart with. Take the burdens off your shoulders and carry it on her own. No price is too great when it comes to ensuring your well being, whether it be a life or gold.

But even her own abilities only extend so far, she knows there are things that you simply can't let her handle. She feels as if she failed you when the only thing she can do is stand there uselessly whilst you struggle through your hardships.

Kind words of encouragement don't come easily for her. There's no softness left on her tongue, and tenderness is a foreign language long forgotten. Yet she tries, she still tries through failed awkward attempts and borderline counterproductive advice. She still tries to offer some sort of relief for you, to understand you better, to just be with you.

Karlach

It pains her in a way, seeing you brush off your own health so easily and discard your wellbeing. You don't realise how much she envies you, envies having the health to spare to neglect.

The engine burns against her chest, sending her on a coughing fit more times than she could count, her time is nearing its end.

If she were you, she'd treasure it. Her life, her body, and her own pulsing heart.

Karlach still buries her feelings and comforts you, putting your needs above hers. Attempting to get you to smile again, tricking you into having at least a nap when you're especially exhausted.

You're a soldier, she reminds you, you're brave, strong, and capable. And she will always have your back no matter what, so don't go fighting the world on your own when it's better to take a step back and recover first.

Gale

She'd drown you with kisses, brighten your day up with hugs, and offer the most loving and tender touches. Each word coming from her mouth is filled with sincerity, yet it barely scrapes the surface of how deep her love is for you.

He's been there more than once. Hell, he still neglects his own health for his studies, even to this day. He can relate to you a lot.

It's the feeling of being left behind, everyone else seems to have their ducks in a row while you're struggling just to stay afloat ontop of the water. How tempting it is just to give in and sink, the threat of the abyss below whispering into your ears.

Yet you stay swimming, the both of you need to. Have to.

No matter how muddy and ruthless the current gets, no matter how aggressive the waves become. He'll hold your hand amidst the storm and anchor you to him.

Each one resurfacing the other whenever they start to drown, pulling each other up.

It's not the most healthy, he is self-aware enough to admit it. But he can't condem you for what he himself is guilty of, he can't tell you to take a rest when the orb bleeds his sins of greed through his chest.

Zevlor

He brings you food, peeled oranges and cut apples, sweet tea and freshly baked cookies. Shares his lunch and dinner with you, shares his own warmth too under the blanket.

He has experienced many things throughout his long life, he has lead an army in hell and did whatever he had to do for the sake of his people.

He has sacrificed many years, decades even of his own life for them. He would've given it all for them if he could, to ensure their freedom, to ensure the kids got to grow up safe and sound.

In the same way, he is ready to sacrifice his well-being to preserve yours. Ready to bear your responsibilities so you can go rest and sleep soundly.

So please, don't refuse an old person like him when he invites you over for some tea and to take a breath. He's absolutely certain that you can relay on him for whatever tasks you have, even stay at his own home if you require assistance.

A big part of why he managed to survive all those years of war, is because he knew when to ask for help, when to cast aside his pride and let even strangers lend a hand for the sake of his people.

He doesn't order you outright. He's not your general, and he doesn't have authority over you. Yet his voice is firm when he insists on you accepting help, allowing yourself this small mercy.

#♡Minthara #♡Karlach #♡Gale #♡Zevlor #Minthara x reader #gale x reader #Karlach x reader #Zevlor x reader #bg3 fluff

[the-dork-urge]

Zevlor x Reader || A Good Man || Part 1

SUMMARY: In which Tav notices that Zevlor needs a drink, but most importantly a hug.

PAIRING: Zevlor x female Tav

WORD COUNT: 1494

SFW / fluff

I have a thing for sad old men, and an urge to fix his sweet little paladin heart.

The stars had emerged, their distant brilliance only slightly dimmed by the lively glow of the campfire and torches. Laughter, music, and magic intertwined with the crackle of the fire, creating a symphony of joy that washed over the camp. Despite the slight chill that lingered in the evening air, the warmth of laughter and merriment enveloped the camp like a comforting embrace.

Yet, amidst the vibrant celebration, Zevlor's desolate soul remained untouched. Memories of simpler times flickered in his mind, casting a bittersweet shadow over the revelry. As he watched the joyous festivities unfold before him, he couldn't help but feel the weight of his own sorrow pressing down upon him, suffocating and relentless.

Perhaps, he could slither away, vanish into the shadows, allowing the spirit of the party to remain undisturbed. To simply turn invisible seemed like an enticing escape. Fleeing might be considered cowardice, but approaching his people required a bravery he felt he lacked. Caught between these choices, he remained frozen in place, feeling anything but invisible, and far from the courageous man he wished to be. Lost in thought, he barely noticed a presence approaching. She declared her presence with a subtle brush of her shoulder against his, jolting him from his reverie. Nursing a bottle of stale wine, she spoke softly, "You look like you could use a drink. I know I do. " With a practiced motion, she pressed the bottle to her lips, taking a big swig, before lifting it towards him, offering it openly, a silent invitation for some respite.

Zevlor hesitated, his solemn gaze meeting the bottle as he debated whether to indulge or not. Then, he recalled her touching the bottle just moments before, sparking a curiosity within him. Perhaps her lips still lingered on the glass. That would be a most excellent distraction.

He took the bottle and brought the bottle to his lips. The red liquid flooded his mouth, an unpleasant cascade of unforgiving flavor. The tanginess of the wine brought tears to his eyes.

"Helm, preserve me," he sputtered.

Her response was laughter, warm and melodic and despite her amusement at his expense, he found solace in its sound. Regaining his composure, he returned her smile.

"You have dreadful taste." he said clinging the bottle between his hands. "I am very aware the wine tastes abysmal," she said with a chuckle, ''but I find myself rarely consuming alchohol solely for the taste.'' she admitted. As he realized his own thoughts were swirling in his head, relentlessly pounding against his skull, he acknowledged that she must have her own thoughts to numb as well. Who was he to judge. He simply smiled and nodded, picking up the bottle once more and braving the awful taste as he drank most of it down. This time, he managed to keep a straight face. He felt a hot flash go to his cheeks.

"You see? It's quite easy," she remarked as her hands reached back for the bottle, intertwining with his briefly before he let go. She pressed it to her lips without much thought and finished the rest of it, before dropping the bottle to the ground.

Those beautiful lips, lush and honeyed. He caught himself staring for too long, completely captivated. Quickly, he whipped his head away towards the camp, feeling his cheeks grow warm. It couldn't have been the alcohol, not this quickly.

His people and hers mingled peacefully, sharing stories, songs, and drinks. He wished they could remain like this forever, within this sanctuary, under their shared protection.

"Don't let me keep you; you should talk to them." she said as she had noticed his gaze drift away.

"I'd rather not'' Zevlor admitted, '' I don't want to dampen their spirits, and I'm not even sure they want to speak to me." Words of blame bounced through his head as he watched his people and remembered the ones he couldn't save, the one he lost along the way, and the ones he could still lose. They were not out of the woods yet. Baldur's Gate was still miles and miles away, and he was not quite sure if he'd be able to lead them anymore.

A somber sheen fell over his eyes, and he attempted to push away the frown that had etched itself onto his forehead. But it was too late; she had already glimpsed the gloom behind his gaze. Suddenly, he felt her hand on his lower arm.

"I understand," she said, her skin cooler than his, yet her touch comforting despite the nerves it ignited with this simple gesture. "But perhaps not in full agreement. I'm sure they have plenty to share with you, all in good spirit." He shook his head in disagreement as she continued. "I know you feel like you haven't done enough, Zevlor." She spoke softly as her grip tightened around his arms. "There is so much I failed to do," he replied, uncertain if he spoke of Elthurel or the Grove. Yet the grief and regret weighed heavily on him, like a lead ball in his stomach, a burden he carried everywhere.

"Was it not you who raised your sword to protect them when no one else did? They know that. They will remember."

Her kind words stirred a dormant anger inside him, urging him to shake off her touch, to turn on his heel and walk away. To tell her she didn't understand what he was going through. Yet he knew that wasn't entirely true. She was saying things he wasn't prepared to hear yet, not ready to accept any of it. And he realized he was mostly angry at himself.

"Did you not spend nights planning and strategizing, drawing plans until your fingers hurt, keeping the peace, and sacrificing your own rations so the children could eat?" She stepped in front of him, not letting go of his arm.

His head started to spin, his chest tightening. He had nowhere to look but into her eyes, seeing the eagerness in them to prove his worth to him, to convey what she saw when she looked at him. It was overwhelming, dizzying.

"Please stop," he pleaded, loud and sudden. "I cannot hear any more of it."

She ceased speaking, but her eyes still remained locked onto his, unalarmed by his small outburst. Suddenly, she drew closer, wordlessly enveloping him in a embrace. Her hands, once on his arms, now rested lightly on his back, a cautious touch. And it spoke more than any words could have done.

He found himself momentarily paralyzed by the closeness, the gentle touch of her hands, her scent, smelling of fire and forest, and the way her hair brushed against his neck as she leaned her head on his shoulder. In silence, they stood there. Gradually, he felt his muscles relax, and he reciprocated the embrace. He glanced around the camp, wondering if anyone observed them, judging him for allowing this moment of respite.

To his relief, everyone seemed blissfully unaware, lost in their own distractions or inebriation. With a conscious effort, he pushed aside his unsettling thoughts and finally closed his eyes, surrendering to the moment. The moment was brief. Too brief. As she sofly let go.

Yet, he witnessed her subtle movement, her hand hovering tentatively in the air. "May I?" she inquired softly, her fingertips poised just inches from his face now. With a silent plea in her eyes, she sought permission, and he responded with a silent nod.

With delicate grace, she caressed his cheek, her touch sending shivers down his spine. He drank in the sensation, cherishing her touch as she traced the contours of his face. Her fingers danced across his skin. It had left him spellbound.

The sound of his heartbeat drowned out all other noise as she leaned in, her breath mingling with his as she studied him with unwavering intensity. With each delicate caress, she traced the map of his scars, each line a testament to his journey, his resilience. Her touch held a reverence that stole his breath away, leaving him intoxicated by her tenderness. And as her fingers wove through his hair, skimming over his horns with a gentle grace, he found himself utterly captivated. He fought the urge to look away. Zevlor was afraid of the vulnerability that lay bare in his eyes. But in the depths of her gaze, he found no judgment, only acceptance. He longed for her to draw even closer, to bridge the gap between them with a moment that would erase the world around them.

"You are a good man." she spoke softly. And in the moment she spoke the words he believed them. A magnetic force seemed to draw him closer to her, as if an invisible thread tethered his lips to hers. In a moment of sweet surrender, they met in the middle, their kiss soft and tender, a sanctuary that he so desperately craved. Find Part 2 here

#bg3 zevlor #zevlor #fluff #zevlor x reader #zevlor x tav #tav #baldurs gate 3 #bg3

[parvulous-writings]

Could I request headcanons for Wyll, Dammon, and Zevlor react to shy gn crush confessing to him before running away because they're scared of being rejected?

Summary: I may have been a bit descriptive, I hope that's okay! They may also be slightly uneven... Oops Focuses more on the reaction of the gents, to try and allow for more projection!

Warnings: lil bit of fluff, but no major warnings!

Notes:  My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

Zevlor

Zevlor has always been a strong leader, in your eyes. For all the disputes between the tieflings and those near them, he usually kept a level head to keep things under control - to the best extent that he could.

He also always returns any due diligence - be kind to him, and he'll show you the same in turn. You found this out very quickly - having found something that he had left behind at a lunch time gathering and given it back to him. Come supper, Zevlor was waving you over, offering to eat with you so neither of you alone, thanking you for returning his belongings.

You sit together in silence for a while, and whilst Zevlor eats, you more... push your food around, picking at it, and playing with it in a vague and unsuccessful attempt to calm your nerves.

"Something on your mind?" his voice startles you, and you're left stumbling over your words, a flurry of "I'm fine, yeah, I'm okay-" Repeated in various combinations. Zevlor just chuckles lightly at your flustered nature, but doesn't pry. Your thoughts are your own, and if you don't want to share them, he'll respect it.

There's a few more minutes of silence, before you blurt out a hurried confession, your words a blur to Zevlor's ears. After the sudden profession, you scramble to your feet and scarper off, your chest pounding against your ribs as you try to get out of Zevlor's sight as fast as your feet can carry you.

Zevlor doesn't move - part of his mind is trying to figure out what that flurry of words you uttered was, and the rest of it was just... Stunned. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of what just happened - though half of that was just due to the fact he hadn't understood a word you had said to him.

He does bring it up next time he sees you though - and you feel your face heat up as soon as he brings the subject up. "... It was nothing..." Your voice is little more than a mumble, and you can't bring yourself to look him in the eye. "It didn't sound like nothing... If there really is something you want to tell me, you needn't be afraid to say it..." His voice is kind, and you don't feel any innate pressure behind his words, but you speak anyway. You've done it once, surely the second time won't be as bad?

Wrong. You can hardly choke the words out, but when you do, Zevlor's looking at you with a kind smile. That wasn't a reaction you had expected - you had half been thinking that you'd be met with a lecture, but... He was just smiling.

"Is that why you ran off?" He asked you, humming thoughtfully.

Wyll

One of the first things that Wyll had noticed about you was your timid nature. He never really commented on it, but he always stood up for you at times when you couldn't find your voice (the Blade of Frontiers reactions coming in full force at these times)

He honestly had a bit of an inkling that you like him - you stick around him a lot, or constantly stealing looks in his direction. So, upon your confession, Wyll wasn't exactly caught off guard. What did stun him, though, was the way you ran off.

He had initially started to go after you, calling your name as you darted off and out of view. Then, after a moment's consideration, he decides to give you a moment. He's of the opinion that maybe you need that moment to yourself, to recollect and think.

It's nightfall when he comes to you, two goblets in one hand, and a bottle of wine in the other. "Care for a drink?" He offers you a goblet, and that charming smile you've come to know so well. Your heart flutters as he hands you a half-full goblet, and you spend the evening with one another drinking well into the night.

Wyll confides in you, that he has always been fond of your presence, and though he had never really wanted to push you, wanted to spend more time with you. You could hardly believe what you were hearing, and you could feel your jaw become more and more slack as he talks more and more.

"In fact..." Wyll speaks, pausing to take a sip of his wine. "And, forgive me if this is too forward for your tastes... I've always quite... Enjoyed the quiet, with you... You never pressed for answers from me, or... Constantly asked me for tales from my time on the front - all of which I would happily regale you with... But, I am most grateful, that you just let me be as I am..."

Despite your more open feelings for one another, you're still incredibly shy, and very liable to becoming flustered if anyone brings up your relationship with Wyll, or ask for any details.

Dammon

Dammon was in the forge when you came to him. He kept glancing over his shoulder, asking if you were okay, or if you needed anything, as you tried to work up the courage to speak.

In a similar way to Wyll, Dammon liked your shyness - he thought it was adorable, and made you unique. He was always there for you- and absolutely loves making little trinkets and things for you, tokens of his affection.

He hardly hears your words when you first utter them, your mumbles lost under the rhythmic clanging of his hammer on metal. "What? Can't quite hear you," He says, pausing to turn and look at you. You feel your face go red hot, and you blurt out what was meant to be your admittance - your feelings for him, your admiration of his work, all of it.

With the words hardly out of your mouth, you scarper, wanting to get away from the situation you'd thrown yourself into. Though - not that you'd noticed - Dammon was sprinting in an attempt to catch up with you. It had only taken a moment for him to drop his tools and shirk off his apron, metalwork entirely forgotten as his feet move as fast as they physically can to get to you.

He's not just going to let you go without actually knowing what you said - he has an inkling, naturally, it came with the way you showed affection to one another - the quality time, the gifts, all of it. But he wants to know with certainty.

When you get all shy and flustered again, his face lights up - you've unintentionally confirmed what he wanted to know, and he's quite possibly the happiest being for miles around.

He reassures you in an instant - he wants to follow these feelings with you, he doesn't want to shy away from them, and he's more than comfortable to think of you as a lover to him.

#requests open #x reader requests #headcanons #bg3 x reader #fluff #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate x reader #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 #bg3 headcanons #wyll #bg3 wyll #wyll ravengard #wyll x reader #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #zevlor x tav #zevlor x you #dammon bg3 #dammon bg3 x reader #wyll ravenguard x reader

[drizztdohurtin]

BG3 Tiefling Purring Headcanons

okay guys i'm so fucking serious right now I was working on my general tiefling headcanons post and I got to the purring part and I was like.... I literally have to make this its own post because I have SO MUCH to say

if anyone gets particularly inspired by any of my headcanons and decides to write something involving it, PLEASE send it to me so I can read it, or tag me in the comments or something <333333

NSFW under the cut -- MDNI

SFW

purring is a reflection of emotions the majority of the time, but it can be done both voluntarily and involuntarily

i think of it like a deep rumbling at the bottom of the throat where you feel your two collarbone bumps, and you can physically feel the rumbling if you were to put a hand on their chest or neck

some have louder 'default' purrs than others, but if they focus on it then they can manipulate the volume

my overarching concept for their purring has to do with the idea that it's mainly used for comfort

my absolute favorite purring hc that I've thought of is that it's used to soothe their babies!

if a parent tiefling is holding their distressed, crying baby, they will automatically purr to comfort them

I also think that they will use it to comfort other people that they're very close to when they're really upset

going back to the baby thing, I believe this kind of purr will almost always be an instinct...

okay bear with me for a second.... you know how people who breastfeed (STAY WITH ME) their bodies automatically know what nutrients to put more or less of in the milk based on their baby's needs? it's like that.

no matter the sex of the parent, their body automatically knows how it should purr to best comfort their baby (think of pitch, volume, and the resonance of the vibrations)

but I think this instinct goes away after their child is around the age of 7 or 8 -- and it doesn't apply to what I said earlier about purring to comfort people they're close to

NEXT: they purr to comfort themselves <3333

It sorta depends on the person, some might be quicker to do it than others, doing it even when they're just mildly upset, and others only doing it in the most extreme circumstances

NEXT ☝ obviously it's also a sign of extreme comfort or contentment <33333

I love a good fluff moment, thinking about one of our beloved tiefling NPCs cuddled up with their significant other and they're just so deep in their happy place that they start to purr

generally, I think of the concept of purring to be an emotionally intimate thing - so it's not to be done for just anyone

they use it for their babies, their loved ones, and anyone else that's very close to them,

it'd be rare to do it for just anyone, even if they're a friend... they'd have to be a very, very close friend

because of this, each type of purr will sound different in some way

Alright, let's take this party down below

NSFW

speaking of being extremely contented, they might purr in bed heh

because purring is an intimate thing, purring in sexually intimate situations would only happen in established relationships

they also might purr when they're trying to initiate sex, but this would be accompanied by feeling up their partner/giving them suggestive kisses or bites on their neck, or something similar

this "suggestive purr" would be light and hushed, hard to pick up on by anyone outside of a radius of 2-3 feet, as it's meant only for their partner to hear/feel

☝ take a minute to imagine your tiefling lover walking up to you and giving you a kiss, feeling the lightest flutter of a purr from their chest as they press a few gentle kisses to your temple, cheek, and jaw, then giving you bedroom eyes... maybe nuzzling their nose against yours or against your neck........ good god.

now, purrs of pleasure during the act having a much wider range of pitch and intensity

I offer you a brief description of a blurb that I often see in my head before falling asleep: Rolan going down on reader/tav, instinctively purring because he loves doing it so much (fear not, I will definitely talk more about this in my rolan nsfw headcanons &lt;333)

the general takeaway is that when they feel great pleasure (physically, mentally, and/or emotionally) you might earn a purr from them

the caveat to that, though, is that they would only be able to do it when they're not exerting a lot of energy, as it would be hard to purr and breathe heavily at the same time - their body would prioritize breathing

because of that, I really only see this happening if they are having slower sex, maybe something very intimate, or just lazy? like early morning sex or sleepy sex

really just anything slow, including giving and receiving head <33

That's all I have to say for now but I hope you enjoyed this because ☝ I certainly did

Masterlist here

#MY HEAD IS SO FULL OF PURRING HEADCANONS DUDE #this post will 100% be linked in my upcoming tiefling and rolan headcanon posts <3 #my hcs #my writing #if this flops I'm lighting myself on fire #serena the yap-atron 3000 #baby boy #bg3 #headcanons #rolan #karlach #zevlor #alfira #dammon #tiefling #fluff #smut #brainrot #hcs #x reader #x tav #tieflings #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3

[viennacherries]

here's the stuff that's in the pipeline fellas 👀👀

i'm trying to go through in order but if i'm struck by intense inspiration i might do them a little out of order. so if ur wondering why i haven't done your request yet this is why!!

lots of amazing requests and i'm very honoured 💕 feel free to send more i'll add them to the queue

i try and do headcanon requests in between fic requests as they come in so if you want something shorter and quicker shoot it through as a headcanon req! <3

#bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 requests #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 smut #bg3 fluff #bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #rolan #holy rolan empire #dammon #bg3 dammon #dammon bg3 #zevlor #zevlor bg3 #bg3 zevlor #halsin #halsin bg3 #bg3 halsin #halsin x zevlor

[tavyliasin]

Bouquet of the Frontiers - Wyll Week One Shot

Wyll Week Day 2 - Flowers

This is my entry to the Wyll Week Fanworks event that's running from 3rd-9th March - Please take a look at the other wonderful entries!

It's the night of the Tiefling Party, and despite being a true hero and helping keep all of them safe, Wyll finds it difficult to join the merrymaking. He chooses a quiet spot by the water, away from the noise and celebration, reflecting on everything that's happened in the last tenday. His friends, however, don't want to let him sit out there alone. One by one they drop by, giving him gifts that mean more than they first appear.

---

Click Here to read on AO3 5,701 words

Spoilers Act 1 only.

Canon Compliance The party is canon, most of the rest isn't. Though all of the flowers are real, and the symbolism matches mostly to modern European interpretations.

Other Notes I'll include pictures of all the different flowers at the end of the piece!

Mood/Song Life is a Flower by Ace of Base

"When every race is run And the day is closing in I don't care about the world I'm living for the light Don't cry for me today' ah ah ah

We live in a free world I whistle down the wind Carry on smiling And the world will smile with you Life is a flower So precious in your hand Carry on smiling And the world will smile with you"

-----

FULL ONE SHOT FIC BELOW THE CUT

-----

Bouquet of the Frontiers

The sounds of the celebrations were filling the camp. Songs and laughter, drinks raised, stories swapped between old friends and new ones. But for Wyll… It was all a little too much, at least for now. He slipped away not long after the first bottle was opened, taking a lesser vintage for himself and a few pieces of simple food from the table. 

It was quieter to sit by the water’s edge, looking out at the moonlight reflecting on the rippling surface, grateful that it wasn’t mirror-smooth to show his reflection. He subconsciously reached up and touched his horns, pulling back in an instant as if he had touched a heated pot on the stove. His head ached, still unused to the balance of extra weight curling around and back;, the horns themselves were sensitive at times, too. 

Everything had changed. Again. 

Wyll had just about accepted his fate in leaving his home behind and taking up the mantle of the hero, stepping in to help the refugees from Elturel the moment he found them after escaping the grasp of the mindflayers. Out of the frying pan, into the fire, though. Or in this case, out of Avernus and into the pitfalls of a contract written by one who stretched the truth to its limits.

He didn’t regret it, not for a second. The loud laughter booming from the Tiefling woman in the middle of the party was a comfort. He would gladly accept the torture of feeling his entire body being transformed before killing Karlach, who was a victim of the Blood War as much as he was. She was having fun. Laughing, smiling, making friends with anyone who took long enough to realise she was more than she appeared to be on the surface. The irony of the thought escaped him as he continued to fret over his own changed looks. 

“He looks sad.” The voice of one of the children - he couldn’t remember which - broke him out of his thoughts. 

“Come on, quickly!” Several more followed, giggling, the sound of small footsteps carrying mischief quickly came closer. 

“Now hold on just a moment-” Wyll tried to stop them, though he feared reaching out in case one of them got hurt. 

“Nope!”

“Not gonna!”

“Come on, Mister, you’ll look nice!” 

The group of them were working like a terrifyingly efficient team, leaping and scampering around him, weaving vines around his horns before taking his hands and pulling him to his feet. 

“Careful, I don’t want to-” They cut him off again with their giggling, as the vine wove around his outfit, each of the children swapping around to dance with him as he was wrapped and decorated. “What is all this?”

“You weren’t at the party.” 

“So we brought the party to you!”

“You look pretty…” 

Wyll couldn’t help but laugh. “Pretty? The stone eyed monster is pretty now?” 

“Mmhmm.” The children nodded, all in agreement with their assessment.

“Thank you, I think.” He patted each of them on the head in turn, a little regretful that he didn’t have any treats to give them. 

“Alright, tiny soldiers, hup hup!” Karlach appeared with a beaming smile, ordering her small army to line up with sharp salutes. “At ease, now go on back to the party - Gale and Rolan said they’re going to do some magic tricks soon!”

“Magic’s a bit boring…” 

“Everyone will be distracted though, not looking at their pockets.” 

“Oooh! You’re right!” 

Before either of the adults could stop them, the miscreants scampered off back to the main party, giggling and conspiring with one another as they went. “Are you sure it’s safe to let them go pickpocketing?” Wyll raised an eyebrow towards Karlach, but her smile didn’t fade.

“Oh, they’ll be just fine! Didn’t you get into a little trouble at their age? Or were you running around with a pot lid and spoon playing the hero to stuffed toys?” She gave him a playful nudge with her elbow.

“I didn’t go around stealing from anyone, if that’s what you’re asking.” He sighed a moment, taking a seat back on the fallen log he’d been on before. “Sorry, Karlach, I’m not the best company right now. Go on and enjoy the party, please - don’t stay out here on my account.” 

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” She took a seat nearby, leaving enough space to not worry about an accidental touch burning him. “So, what’s eating you? Is it the horns? Gods, they’re a pain sometimes.” 

Wyll watched her as she talked a mile a minute, the brightness of her eyes never dulled, her gestures adding to the feeling of how passionate she was as she spoke. 

Karlach pointed to the stump of her horn, rough from the break. “When I first lost this one, gods it was so hard to get used to. My balance was off for weeks! And I kept reaching up or ducking through doorways on that side like it was still there - ridiculous, right?” 

“No, not ridiculous at all.” He looked at her with concern. “Does it still hurt?” 

“Come on, Wyll, that was meant to make you smile at least a little!” She poked the stump of her horn. “I feel it, a little, but less and less with time. Part of my devilish charm now, might as well own it.” 

“You’re not a devil, Karlach.” He looked deep into her eyes, the softness in them clearer than ever as she blinked, perplexed. “I wish I had seen that sooner.” 

“No use dwelling on the past, soldier. Plenty more problems ahead to kick us in the arse all over again.” She looked over his shoulder for a moment, leaning around and plucking something from the bushes behind him. “Well, will you look at that. Just like us!”

The flower she quickly placed in his hand - before it could char in her grip - was strangely familiar. The centre of the blossom was a large pale yellow petal that curved in an almost egg-like shape, with a hole like an open hood in the middle. At one end of the oval, there were three dark burgundy petals, one rounded and curled, but the other two were thin and twisting, curled out to the sides-

“Just like our horns.” She repeated, quieter this time, her eyes fixed on the delicate bloom. “Well, you’re already decorated with leaves, why not add that one too?” 

“An infernal flower for a cursed fiend?” He contemplated it, hesitating until she corrected him.

“Enough of that. You know already, don’t you - it’s not what we look like that makes us who we are. Besides, it’s pretty, right? So it suits you.” Karlach patted him on the shoulder, standing up to leave again. “I’ll leave you to it, but you know they’d love to see you. Out there. Where the actual party is.”

“I’ll…” He paused, looking at the flower once more before tucking the stem into his hair at the base of his horn. “I’ll think about it. Thank you, Karlach.” 

“Don’t mention it, soldier!” She beamed, smile brighter than the moon, tail swishing behind her with a spring in her step as she left him to his thoughts for a while.

He didn’t have long to himself before another voice cut through the bubble of quiet by the water. “So this is where you’ve been? And you took the good wine, I see.” Wyll turned to see Shadowheart approaching, empty chalice in hand and a wry smile. “Mind sharing a drop?” 

“I’m sure they have a better vintage back there.” He said, even as he was picking up the bottle to top up her goblet as well as his own. 

“Maybe.” She replied, already taking a seat beside him. “But then you’d be out here on your own, wouldn’t you?” 

“You don’t need to be here on my account.” He countered, watching her expression for any clue as to what she was really thinking. The cleric kept everything close to her chest, so it was hard to tell what she really wanted.

“You don’t need to be so suspicious - Karlach mentioned you might be getting some headaches from your…situation.” She gestured to his horns, pulling a couple of herbs from her pack. “The wine certainly won’t help with that, not by morning anyway. So take these, and make them into a tea. Consider the drink as payment, if you must.” A wry smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “Oh, cheer up, Wyll. They’re celebrating all of us, you know.” 

“I feel more like a decoration than a guest right now.” He gestured to the new adornments to his outfit.

“So you do.” She smiled, reaching back into a pouch at her side and drawing out a stem of large violet flowers. “Do not touch this one with your bare hands, and definitely don’t get it near your food.” 

“You’re giving me poison?” Wyll leaned back involuntarily as her gloved hand came closer with the plant. 

“It’s not poison if you treat it with care.” She took a little of the vine that was around his right horn and wrapped it gently around the blossoms, being cautious to secure the stem without damaging them. “Call it…a reminder. That even though something might be dangerous, it can also be quite beautiful.” She wiped her glove carefully with a clean cloth, rinsing with a little water from her flask. 

“Are you still talking about the flowers?” He took a sip of his wine as he watched her stand. 

“Maybe,” she smirked. “Hold still.” She laid her bare hand on his forehead for a moment, a wave of cooling and soothing magic washing through him, the dull throb at the base of his horns melting away, and even a few lingering bruises from the day’s battles healing in an instant.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Wyll looked up at her, trying to find the right words for gratitude but falling somewhat short.

“No, I didn’t. But I wanted to.” Shadowheart began to walk away without leaving a chance for him to reply, though she did call back over her shoulder. “Thanks for the wine, Wyll. Perhaps next time we can share more time with it as well.” 

—

The next voice to disturb the peace carried a familiar lyrical quality. “Wyll, darling, why are you out here all by your lonesome? No dance partner catch your eye for the evening?” 

He looked up to see the owner of the voice sauntering over, carrying with him half a bottle of wine and a few white flowers. “Not you as well - is this entire camp determined to turn me into a bouquet?” 

“And what would be wrong with that?” Astarion grinned, a hint of sharp fangs glinting in the moonlight. “Have you forgotten the old tradition of fair maidens giving flowers to their gallant knights on the eve of battle?” 

“You’re not a maiden, it’s not the eve of battle - it’s the night after it - and I’m hardly a knight.” Wyll argued, though he made no move to get up or leave as the pale elf began to place the blossoms at different points on his outfit.

“Oh, details, details. Does it matter? They suit you.” Astarion took a couple more moments to check the positions of the flowers, before standing back with a satisfied nod to himself. “And you, my dear warlock, have plenty of the qualities of a knight. Heroic, chivalrous, and that dreadful habit of being all too ready to throw yourself onto the sword to save someone else’s sorry hide.”

“We all have a duty to protect those who are weaker than us, to stand up for what’s right.” Wyll sat up a little straighter, feeling the slight swell of an older pride stirring in his chest. “You would do well to remember that, yourself, sometimes.” 

“Perish the thought - no, I’ll leave the good deeds to you, darling. The whole shining armour thing never suited me anyway. Clashes terribly with my complexion.” He ran his fingers through his hair for a moment for emphasis on the last part, smoothing it to just the way he preferred his waves to fall. “It suits you, though. Better than that stern look, at least.” 

“It’s never too late to change, Astarion.” The warlock tried to appeal to the vampire’s better nature - if he had one. The man didn’t seem entirely evil, but he was harder to read than Shadowheart.

“That wine really is going to your head isn’t it~” Astarion laughed, brushing off the comment and turning to leave once more. “Do remember to have a little fun sometime, Wyll. Happiness isn’t deadly, you know.” 

Wyll leaned back, taking a moment to look up at the stars. He wasn’t unhappy, not entirely. But if even Astarion was trying to cheer him up then maybe he should at least make more of an effort.

The sounds of the party grew louder again, the bard starting a new bawdy tune, with the crowd clapping along. 

Later. An effort can be made later, when it is a bit calmer. He reasoned to himself. Plenty of night left. 

—

Dammon’s footsteps were so soft that Wyll barely noticed the Tiefling approach until he was standing right next to him.

“Do you know what they mean?”  The blacksmith asked quietly, gesturing above. “The stars, that is.” 

“I have no idea,” Wyll laughed, the warmth of the wine making the corners of his mind just a little fuzzy around the edges now. “Do you?”

“They’re beautiful, I know that much.” Dammon turned to look down towards him, the sparkle and warmth in his expression not so dissimilar to the twinkling of the constellations above. “We can give them our own meanings, though, can’t we?”

“Then what meaning do you see up there, out in the dark?” He couldn’t help the curiosity, and the blacksmith’s presence alone felt somehow calming.

“Freedom.” Dammon replied simply, a hint of something deeper behind bright eyes. “To be out here, looking up at the stars - it means we’re still alive. And that we’re no longer trapped in Avernus.”

“We’ll get you all to the city, somehow.” Wyll felt the need to reassure him, noticing the edge of fear between calm words. 

“We should be able to make it most of the way.” A new voice joined them, as Zevlor strode into view. “So this is where the man of the hour had disappeared?” 

“It is quieter here, at least.” Dammon reached into the pocket of his apron, pulling out some small pinkish red flowers, similar to daisies but with a deep orange centre of pollen, the petals curling back a little. “These make a nice addition, if you don’t mind?” 

“Please, go ahead.” Wyll shrugged, accepting his fate to become a walking bouquet, but not averse to the gentle nature of the Tiefling threading them into the back of his locs with care.

“A fitting choice,” Zevlor hummed, nodding his approval.

“Our Blade needs to remember that the same sword that cuts flesh can also slice a cake.” Dammon stood back, looking to be in deeper thought for a moment. “I hope someday that’s all you’ll need it for, and that I can go back to making tools and decorations, rather than instruments of war.” 

“Your steel has been a great help to all of us.” The old warrior patted his shoulder kindly. “Go and check on the young ones, won’t you? They’ve been giggling to themselves a little too much for comfort. I need to rest my old bones a while, and that looks like as good a place as any.” 

“I’m not sure I can keep that lot out of trouble, but maybe I can distract them for a minute or three.” Dammon gave Wyll a short bow, his tail raising behind him as part of the gesture. “Take care of yourself, my friend. I hope we meet again soon.” 

“You, too.” Wyll replied, a little lost for words for a moment as he considered how easily, and sincerely, Dammon had called him friend. 

“Good fortune is hard to come by, but serendipity found us with both of you.” Zevlor mused, watching the blacksmith leave before taking a seat next to Wyll.

“Serendipity? It feels more like one long nightmare to me.”

“I know nightmares. Mine are filled with my mistakes…” The old warrior softened, the edge of pain carefully hidden again behind a kind sincerity. “You are no mistake, Wyll, nor are you a nightmare. Only a knight, and a fine one at that.” 

“That might depend on who you ask.” He felt the old conflict in the shadows of his mind - the wish to live up to an impossible standard, and the fear that he had already lost that chance.

“We’re the only two on this log - and of the two of us, you’re far more worthy of the title.” Zevlor laid a hand on his back for a moment, careful to avoid the vines and flowers, a gesture akin to a proud parent. “You will find your way, in time. Ah, and of course there is this.”

“Not you as well…” Wyll sighed with half a smile as the paladin pulled out a single beautiful violet flower. Three larger petals on the outside - with dark veins, a white band, and a yellow centre - surrounded narrower violet and white striped petals in the centre.

“I’m afraid so. If you’ll allow an old man to be nostalgic for just a moment, I’ve always been fond of these.” The tiefling fixed the stem to Wyll’s shirt over his heart with a small pin. “They suit you perfectly.”

“You make it too hard to argue.” He looked down at the new addition to his outfit, a question tugging at the back of his mind. “Do they mean something to you?” 

“A simple flower can mean a lot.” Zevlor smiled, a far off look returning to his eyes again. “But I think perhaps you should make them mean something to you.”

Wyll touched the edge of the petal with a careful thumb, thinking over for a while what a blossom might mean beyond just something pretty to look at. 

The two sat quietly for a while together, sharing a bit more of the wine and enjoying the sounds of their friends having a much louder gathering in the centre of camp. The laughter, cheers, and even the sounds of pointless arguments between friends who didn’t mean a word of insults thrown with drunken vigour - it was a comfort just to be near.

“It has been a pleasure, Wyll. I should go and make sure that everyone stays in one piece until morning at least. Should our paths cross again, I would consider us to be more than fortunate.” Zevlor groaned quietly as he stood up with a stretch. “Perhaps it would be even more fortunate should we meet again somewhere with comfortable seats.” 

“I’d settle for a rickety bed at this point.” Wyll complained with a smile.

—

It was a little longer before the next visitor arrived to Wyll’s little corner of serenity. “Lae’zel? I didn’t expect you to drop by” 

“Tchk. Expectation would mean being predictable. A swift way to earn defeat.” She admonished him for his words, but not unkindly. A hint of playfulness flickered across her eyes. “I hear we are to pay tribute. With these.” 

“Is everyone in on this?” He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly as if trying to work out who had come up with this devious plot. Not that he was going to complain; it felt rare for the Gith before him to make such a gesture, and he had no intention of insulting someone who wielded a sword that large without breaking a sweat. 

“Perhaps. I was intrigued. Is this a usual custom?” Lae’zel came closer, carrying several long stems with a ball of tiny blossoms at the top of each. The smell of onions was strong which he quickly realised were from the flowers themselves.

“These are…unusual?” He stayed still as she threaded them through the vines on his shoulder, like a decorative pauldron of petals. 

“And what exactly is usual?” She hissed, though without any malice in her meaning. “Should we not be celebrating? There is strength in knowing what you’ve won…and enjoying it.”

Wyll shifted slightly as he caught her eye and the hint in her words, a little unsure of what to do with it. “Hard to join the party when I look like this. Like a monster.” 

Lae’zel laughed, her face breaking into a genuine and wide smile of amusement. “This? These horns, a few scars and ridges? Your horns are weapons, should you need them, and scars proof you are alive. That’s no bother to me, no more so than the fleshy noses and small ears of your kin.” She peered closely at his face for a moment, a little too closely. “As long as there are no ghaik tentacles, you are just fine.” 

“Well, that’s…reassuring?” The smell of the flowers was clearer now they were so close, but he found himself not minding the unusual scent. It was interesting to learn more about what his companions liked, and to a degree how they saw him.

“They suit you.” She stepped back, nodding firmly with her choice. “Come and find me later, if you want to share a fresh bottle.” She indicated the empty wine by his feet, long since emptied with Zevlor’s help.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” He gave an appreciative nod as she turned and walked back to the main celebration, seemingly satisfied with the brief conversation.

—

“Would you like to see a magic trick?” Gale’s smile was wide as the great Wizard of Waterdeep stood in front of Wyll dramatically, cheeks a little flush from the evening’s events.

“Don’t tell me - there’s something up your sleeve? Behind my ear?” He teased, already checking behind his head just in case.

Gale rolled up his sleeves with more performative flair, demonstrating there was nothing there. “Not at all, my dear warlock! That would be far too derivative and predictable, so no, far be it from me to bore you with those old parlour tricks.” 

“You do remember I know magic as well, don’t you?” Wyll smiled, still wondering where this was going, but entertained nonetheless.  

“Well, yes. But do you know…THIS!” Gale’s hands moved in the quick gestures of prestidigitation that Wyll knew well, the faint hum of an old melody singing through the Weave around them as the Wizard looked perplexed. “No, wait, that’s not right…it was…THIS!” A rather crude symbol appeared on Gale’s own forehead this time.

He stifled a laugh, as best as he could. “Are you sure that’s what you-”

“No, no… No idea what that just did, but I’ve got it this time!” The third casting produced a shimmering blossom in the Wizard’s fingers, the illusion sparking around the edges with the frayed Weave pulled into shape by his drunken spell. “There. This will do just perfectly.” 

The rich pink petals were soft and layered on each bud, open and closely packed around the stem. Wyll took it and fixed it to one of the few remaining spaces on his outfit carefully, hoping the magic might stabilise a little more. “But this one is an illusion, it’ll only last an hour, won’t it?” 

“Well, that’s the beauty of all flowers, is it not? Are they any less beautiful just because you know they’ll be gone in a few days? Are the petals less bright because they’ll wilt?” He wasn’t sure if Gale was still talking just about the plant any more, as his smile slipped for just a moment into a far off look. “Personally, I think they’re more special because we only have them for such a short time. We treasure them whilst they’re there, make the most of every moment we have to admire their beauty, burning them into our memory where they can never truly wilt.”

“I must admit, I’ve never thought of it like that.” He found himself a little lost for words, fingers lingering on the edge of soft petals.

“Well, it would also be a shame for them to be all gone before the night is over, so I did bring some real ones too.” The spectral form of Mage Hand floated out from where it had been hidden behind the wizard, carrying three more of the same flowers in a small bouquet of pale pink, rich magenta, and a vivid violet. 

“You are full of surprises, Gale of Waterdeep.” Wyll couldn’t quite hide the genuine astonishment at the gesture. 

“I told you so.” The wizard winked. “I dare say there’s plenty to all of us that we don’t yet know - some more than others, of course - but that’s where the fun is. Although, it really is more fun out there, with all of our companions and their secrets. Who knows what Shadowheart might let slip if we give her just a bit more wine!” 

“Soon.” Wyll nodded. “I just need a little more time, if that’s alright.” 

“I shan’t force you.” Gale smiled, leaning down a moment to straighten the magical flower, the magic symbol still on his forehead. Wyll contemplated telling him, knowing the spell would last an hour if not erased, but truthfully he didn’t want to ruin the moment. “Thank you for allowing a humble wizard to entertain you for a while, at least.”

It was hard not to laugh again at the bow and flourish that followed his parting words, but perhaps it was intentional after all? Well, he thought, someone’s going to tell him soon enough. 

—

Sure enough, the laughter from the camp - and the indignant cry of mock-injured pride that - followed it carried clearly on the night air.

“You could have told him.” Halsin chided gently, sitting comfortably on the log beside Wyll.

“And deprive everyone of the fun?” He replied, a hint of a mischievous smile playing on his lips. 

“You sound brighter than you did earlier - and you look it, too.” Halsin gestured to the array of flowers adorning Wyll’s body and outfit. 

The look brought forth a question, one that had been playing on the back of his mind for a while now. “Did you put them up to this, Halsin? Turning me into a walking bouquet?” 

“Don’t you think I am a bit old for pulling pranks?” The druid smiled warmly, his deep voice just as welcoming and soft.

Wyll nudged the large elf gently with his elbow. “You’re only as old as you feel, or so they say.” 

A low laugh bubbled up with the response, still neatly evading the question. “In that case, I must be older than the Oakfather himself!” 

“He’s preserved you well.” The wine brought the words forth without much more thought beyond how the moon lit the druid’s admittedly handsome face. “Sorry, what I meant to ask was why? Why has everyone been so insistent on giving me flowers?”

“The children started it, I believe, when they decided to cheer you up with some games. They remember you looking out for them in the Grove, standing up for them, telling them all sorts of stories in the short time you were there.” Halsin began. “Did you know that ivy is known to represent loyalty? One of your many strengths. A fine choice.” 

“Plants have meanings now?” Wyll looked across the array of leaves and petals again, already wondering what they might be. 

“They do, and they always have.” The druid pointed to the first, the one Karlach had plucked from nearby. “This one here, Cypripedium, the Lady’s Slipper Orchid. It means protection against curses, hexes, and malevolent spells.”

“Isn’t that ironic? That something that looks so devilish is meant to be protective against them?” Even the petals looked like the curling horns of an infernal beast…

“Are your horns, or Karlach’s, or even Zevlor’s, are any of them a mark of true evil? There is more to nature than what is on the surface.” Halsin reminded him of how Karlach had spoken, how there really was no match between her hellish traits and the boundless positivity and kindness that radiated even brighter than her mechanical heart.

“Then what of this one? Shadowheart told me it carries deadly poison, hiding behind the pretty appearance.” Wyll was careful not to touch the flower that the cleric had carefully bestowed on him, just in case.

“Fitting for her, isn’t it? Look at the layers. A beautiful flower, hiding deadly poison, almost the opposite of your devil horned orchid. Aconitum Napellus, monkshood. To some it might mean misanthropy or treachery-”

“That’s hardly a comforting thought.” A slight shiver chilled his spine, fears yet to ease until Halsin continued. 

“But to others, it represents chivalry and knights who stand against those principles.”

“I wonder which she will turn out to be…” Wyll wondered aloud.

“No doubt your influence may be of help there.” Halsin patted his shoulder gently, cautious to avoid the various carefully woven plants. “Similar to Astarion, perhaps - those ones were his, were they not?” 

The warlock looked to the delicate white flowers, placed carefully and deliberately to balance the aesthetic like a florist arranging a bouquet. Quite unlike how some of the others had simply found a space to add their own offerings. “They remind me of stars.” 

“As well they should, they’re often called the starflower. Ornithogalum umbellatum, they represent trauma, mourning, but more importantly welcoming pain without repressing it.” Halsin’s voice grew quiet for a moment, dropping to almost a whisper. “I cannot tell you if they are more for you or for himself, but it wouldn’t harm you to work through everything that troubles you, unlike the man who hides it all behind an easy smile.”

“That’s not a very comforting thought.” Wyll felt a pang of that pain sting at his heart like a thorn. There was a lot he still needed to mourn, and that was no secret. And they had all witnessed… He wasn’t quite ready to think about that just yet. “Please tell me that at least Dammon’s isn’t so depressing?”

“The starflower is still beautiful despite the pain, and perhaps it is more symbolic that Astarion trusted you with something so personal…but the blacksmith’s gift was far more positive, much like the giver.” The druid’s voice grew a note more hopeful again, along with his words. “Echinacea, the coneflower. It represents a spiritual warrior and a shield, and the blossom is also well renowned for its healing properties. It represents protection as much as strength.” 

“Almost like he gave me a shield…”

“Your well-being is important to your friends, Wyll, you would do well to keep that in mind before you make any risky decisions.” Halsin seemed to be looking right through his eye in that moment, past the flame-tinted iris, and speaking directly to his heart. “Zevlor, too, his gift is one of protection. The Iris may have a simple name, but the meaning is layered. There are some who see it only as hope, valour and victory, but it may also represent pain, wisdom, and protection from evil spirits.” 

“A gift as complex as the one who gave it,” Wyll smiled. “I can think of none better from a paladin of his experience.”

“And I am certain he would be grateful you called it experience instead of age.” The druid smiled and pointed to the next flowers, the faint smell still clear in the night air. “Lae’zel chose an interesting one for you, Allium, the same plant as the onion in your stew.” 

“That explains the aroma.” He had to admit it was surprising for a beautiful flower to have such a strange scent, but it was beginning to grow on him as the night wore on. 

“The interpretation is fitting too. Mostly referred to as simply strength, those little blossoms are also nature’s way of saying you’re elegant, you’re perfect. You do not have to be a rose to be admired by those who appreciate you.”

“That is…surprising.” Wyll considered the words, wondering if she knew all of those meanings when the gift was presented.

“I should say that your companion is more surprising than you give her credit for, too.” Halsin winked, the meaning behind it completely lost on the warlock who was already looking at the next flowers.

The last ones to be given, one magical, and three more entirely natural. “Gale already talked more about these a little, though I couldn’t tell you if that was anything accurate or just the wine making its what into his thoughts.” 

“Those come from the same family as the humble cabbage.” Halsin began, already hinting a little of his own interpretation in the origin. “Matthiola incana, to give it the proper name, quite simply represents lasting beauty. His way of saying you'll always be beautiful to me.” 

Wyll felt the blush rise to his cheeks, each and every person who had visited him had given him something quite wonderful and filled with meaning. Whether they knew it or not, they had covered him head to toe in affirmation, validation, and a warm feeling of acceptance that threatened to sting at his eye with tears…he could probably blame that one on the onion, at least.

“There is one more.” Halsin held out his palm, a small seed growing in his hand and rising to a tall stem with a cone of tiny pink flowers. “Epilobium angustifolium, fireweed. I think this one most fitting for you. Bravery and humanity, Wyll, qualities that you embody entirely.” The druid fixed the flower front and centre, before standing up and offering a hand. 

“I’m not sure…” Wyll hesitated still. The party was still loud, and he felt almost a fool to walk in there as a living bouquet. Reluctantly he stood, careful not to let a single petal fall to the ground.

“Just for one song?” Halsin offered hopefully. “Although you may find yourself hard pressed to leave after one alone… You will not find yourself lacking in dance partners.” --- ---

ENDING NOTES --- ---

This was a lovely prompt to work on, so I'd like to add in the flowers for you here at the end so you have a better idea of how they look.

Please keep in mind that many of these flowers might be pretty but are actually poisonous. There are poison cures in BG3, magic, potions, and resistances. We don't have those in real life! Please do not pick, touch, eat, or even sniff any flowers that you are not certain are safe. This is also just general life advice!

Karlach's Flower - Cypridedium, the Lady’s Slipper Orchid.

Shadowheart's Flower - Aconitum Napellus, Monkshood

Astarion's Flower - Ornithogalum umbellatum, Starflower

Dammon's Flower - Echinacea, Coneflower

Zevlor's Flower - Iris, Iris

Lae'zel's Flower - Allium, Onion

Gale's Flower - Matthiola Incana, Cabbage

Halsin's Flower - Epilobium angustifolium, Fireweed

Ok and that's your floral lesson for the day! I hope you enjoyed my entry to Wyll Week - please do go and give all the other creations over on @lovewyll and on the tags some love, there are some absolutely beautiful pieces that deserve to be shared and seen~

#WyllWeek2024 #LoveWyll #wyll ravengard #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 #fanfic #bg3 wyll #baldurs gate wyll #shadowheart #karlach #halsin #astarion #zevlor #dammon #gale of waterdeep #lae'zel #sfw fanfic #fluff #sweet fanfic #flowers #flower #day 2 flower #meanings of flowers #flower meanings #Spotify

[halsinswhire]

Zevlor with a short gn partner

Zevlor has a bit of an issue when it comes to being overprotective. He is already a very protective man, but when the person he loves is as short as you are then it tends to go on the dramatic side. You pretty much have to prove to him that you can handle yourself. When someone about twice your size tries to sneak up on you with your back turned, you react quickly and leave a very concussed attacker on the floor. 

I personally feel like he probably puts on a front of being super serious and not joking around much. It takes him time to warm up to you, but when he does his sense of humor bursts when you are alone. Even after warming up to you, when you both are out in public he still tends to be on the more serious side. Now when you are alone and he allows himself the space to calm down, then he turns into a tease. His sense of humor involves making fun of you for being short and how he never realized how nice it is to be tall.

You are around 5’1 and while Zevlor is not a very tall man, 5’11, you make him feel incredibly tall and he loves it. He loves how when you hug each other your face is always buried into his chest. When you are kissing, he is the type that would lean into you with a hand on the wall by your head and the other gripping your waist. On another note, he loves for you to sit in his lap when you’re making out because it makes everything much easier.

Scenario: Walking through the market with Zevlor you are trying to decide on what you would like to prepare for dinner later that night. The smell of spices fills the air and there are multiple stalls with fresh produce and meats. You decide to stop and look at the prices on herbs at this small shop, and while you’re doing that Zevlor is looking through some crystals close by. A stranger wants to test their luck today it seems! Taking a chance when your back is turned this person goes in quick for your gold pouch. The stranger was not fast enough to steal from you without notice, and you are able to grab them by the shoulder, throwing them away from you. You approach the individual and press down on their now injured appendage as a warning before turning to walk away. Zevlor was coming back when he saw everything that happened, and he very quickly started pulling you out of the market. He is incredibly proud and will tell you so but would rather not have you get questioned about the battered and bruised person laying on the ground.

#bg3 #bg3 fluff #zevlor x reader #bg3 zevlor #baldurs gate 3 zevlor