My IRL Husband Has Done This And Yes, It's Absolutely As Hot As You Think It's Going To Be.

Pit of Despair

Zevlor x (f)Tav, NSFW

3.7K words

Beautiful visions swam behind his eyes, the promise of once again becoming a paladin, serving a higher power, being able to walk with his head held high as he marshaled his people to Baldur’s Gate, victorious. A solitary tear slid from his glowing eye, down the infernal ridge that was his cheek, before dropping to the chest of his scale mail. So enchanted was he by Her voice and the lure of becoming oathbound once again, he could not hear the screams around him. Behind him they fell, bloodied, as the cultists of the Absolute ambushed their group as their leader was enthralled, enchanted, by the idea of regaining something that was once lost to him. Something he could have without the Absolute, if only he would allow himself forgiveness. 

He would never forget the sounds of their bodies hitting the dirt as he came to, manhandled and manacled and pushed towards Moonrise Towers. Lifeless eyes stared back at him from the burgeoning shadows, brows raised high in surprise and mouths agape in screams. He whipped his head around, frantic, searching for any signs of life. If any of the tieflings had made it out, he could not see them now. Hot tears burned his eyes as he called out, begging for this to be a dream, a nightmare. But the only dream to be found was his disillusionment at once again becoming a good man.

Tav stared in horror at the rows of illithid pods. She and her not-quite-so-rag-tag group had ventured into the mindflayer colony deep underneath Moonrise, chasing Ketheric Thorm and and the Heart of the Absolute. The party had already encountered zombies, death shepherds, infernal beings, and sentient brains, along with hook horrors and a lake of blood and spare body parts. 

Glancing into the pods, she saw members of the Flaming Fist. They looked as if they were comatose; there was no movement from their bodies, save for the flutters of their eyes as they moved behind their lids. Glancing around, Tavalia saw a console near the far end of the room, beside a hallway that led farther into the depths of the colony: another nursery. Wiping sweat and blood from her brow, she approached. As she did so, she saw that more of the pods were occupied, and not just by soldiers; at least three had fully formed illithids inside, waiting for the moment they would be released.

Directly to her right, she saw him. 

Zevlor was still in his pod, eyes darting behind his heavily lashed eyelids as his lips moved almost imperceptibly. Tav’s eyes grew round as she ran towards the pod and began slamming her fists against the lid. The tactic hadn’t worked when attempting to free Shadowheart from the same predicament all those weeks ago, but Tav was frantic. 

“Zevlor!” she screamed, pounding on the pod. “ZEVLOR!”

He did not stir.

Karlach stepped up behind Tav, moving her hand to her leader’s shoulder and gently pulling her back. “It’s no use, mate,” she said, sadly. “The console is the only way, and unless you can figure out how to open only a few and not all of them, we’re going to have another fight on our hands. Not that I’m complaining,” the barbarian added, shouldering her greataxe and snarling at the nearest unresponsive mindflayer.

Tavalia blinked back her tears and looked at Karlach. “You’re right,” she muttered, sniffling her nose and clearing her throat. She touched her hand to Zevlor’s pod and whispered “I’m here, and I will have you out soon.”

Stepping away, she walked up to the console and laid her hands across it. With a thought, she knew she would be able to unlock the pods and free the prisoners from their confinement, but it would also mean activating the sleeping illithids.

“Astarion, Gale, move towards that hallway and prepare for ranged attacks. Karlach, move to the left, we’ll need to take these monsters down as they emerge. And there’s no way of knowing if the Fists or Zevlor will be able to fight,” her voice caught in her throat, “so protect and shield them from harm.” Her friends nodded in assent and positioned themselves around various points of the room. With a firm line across her lips and furrowed brows, Tav once again placed her hands on the alien technology and willed it to release the inhabitants of the pods.

With a hiss, the transparent casings cracked and raised, allowing the occupants their freedom. Immediately, the mindflayers within became aggressive and a battle ensued. Luckily for the adventuring group, the Fists and the Hellrider took only a moment to gauge their surroundings before unsheathing their weapons and leaping into the fray.

The young illithids were unencumbered and frail, all things considered. They had yet to feed, which made them less fearsome than their fully-fledged brethren. Handily, the young ones were dispatched with minimal damage taken by their adversaries. As the carnage lay around them, the group of seven took a moment to breathe before the Flaming Fists excused themselves, desperate to retreat from the mucus and organic matter that made up the hidden underground colony.

Zevlor fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around Tavalia’s waist. A sob of relief and despair escaped his throat, choked by his tongue. She dropped to the ground and flung her arms around the Hellrider’s neck, pulling him in close and whispering calmly and gently into his ear. His body shuddered as he clung to her, desperate to know that she was here and that she was real.

“Shhh,” she murmured quietly, stroking his hair, now damp with blood, and smoothing it away from his face. “Zevlor, look at me. Are you hurt?” Tav swung her pack around and began digging, searching for the health potions she knew were stashed inside. His taloned hand reached hers to stay it, pulling it from the depths.

“The others, the ambush - tell me they survived.” He pulled his face away from her shoulder to look her in the eyes.

“They found refuge. Tell me what happened, Zevlor.” Tav began to once more rummage within her bag.

“You have heard some of it, I am sure. That I froze, or broke, or some other lie that is kinder than the truth. I do not deserve this kindness,” he rasped, staring deeply into her eyes. “I… I abandoned them. They needed me, and I was not there, too caught up in delusions of grandeur. And all the while, the cult tortured them. They fought, and ran and died around me, while I imagined myself their savior.” His voice caught in his throat, suddenly feeling very heavy and round. “By the time I regained my senses, it was too late. I did not just surrender to the Absolute. For a moment, I welcomed it.” “No, no, Zevlor. It wasn’t your fault, not at all. It sounds like you were enthralled. That’s what this Absolute does. It’s not your fault.”

“It would be nice to think so. But whatever these monsters twist us into… I believe it begins in us. I won’t make excuses. I can’t make amends. But I want to help, if you’ll let me.”

Tavalia held him tightly to her body. “Of course, of course.” He pulled away from her and stood, offering his hand to help her up.

“If there are more survivors to be found,” he began, “I will find them and lead them out of this place.” 

“I could use another blade in the fight to come,” she responded, watching him closely.

“Only if you can trust it won’t be buried in your back,” he quipped. “The Absolute swayed me once before, I won’t risk it happening again. Not to you.” More tears formed in his haunted, demonic eyes. “Go. Please, let me do this much.”

Tavalia held his gaze, contemplating. She stepped up to him, moving her hand to his cheek. Forehead to forehead, she released a steady breath before gently kissing his browline. “Find them, Zevlor. Get them out of here. Take them to the Last Light Inn. The rest of the survivors are there, and our camp. If you cannot face them, do not, but please, please, wait for me there. Promise me this.” 

Zevlor hesitated, a sharp intake of his breath belying his hesitation. “I… I will wait for you. I promise.” He tilted his head slightly, taking in Tavalia’s features: her jaw was taut and worried, her forehead creased with concern, and her mouth set in a firm line. Her eyes shone in the light, magnified by the tears they held. He squeezed her hands in his for just a moment, before bobbing his head quickly and concisely and turning on his heel. As she blinked away her tears, he was gone, off to assist those still trapped within this hellscape and get them to safer ground.

“Please wait for me,” she whispered under her breath, a quiet sob escaping with the words as her tears hit the bloody, viscera-soaked ground.

****

Tav and her crew were welcomed warmly when they returned to the Last Light Inn. Ketheric Thorm had been defeated, as had the Shadow Curse, and the way to Baldur’s Gate was clear. Those looking to make the journey could expect to do so now with relative safety. 

Immediately, Tav began to scan the area for his familiar shape. Her brow furrowed as she realized he was not inside the inn, and she had not seen him upon her arrival. Panic started to set in - he had promised, he had promised!

Tav caught movement out of the corner of her eye. At the bar, Alfira made a motion and, while taking a swig of ale, pointed one taloned finger up, indicating that Tav’s quarry could be found on the second story. Tav nodded and headed for the stairs as Alfira sent a small wink her way.

Taking stock of her surroundings, Tavalia noticed that only one of the rooms left upstairs was still habitable after Marcus’ attack against Isobel. The door was mostly closed, but not latched. A faint light glowed from within.

As she strode towards the door, Tav began to unfasten her armor, readying it to doff completely. She nudged the door open with the toe of her boot. Inside, she found Zevlor, unarmored, sitting silently on the edge of the bed and staring intently at a lit candle. He did not notice her come in until she cleared her throat.

“Zevlor,” she whispered, his reverie broken. He shot off the mattress, eyes wide. 

“Tavalia!” He shouted, moving around the bed to embrace her. She held still as his powerful arms wrapped around her middle, his face burrowed snuggly into her neck. His breath was warm and moist against the delicate skin near her collar bone. She inhaled sharply and returned the hug with gusto, burying her hand into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“You’re here, you’re here,” she murmured, scarcely allowing herself to believe that he was, in fact, here at the Last Light and within her arms.

“I promised you I would be. I could not break that. I have done many things I will need to atone for, and many things left undone, but not this, never this. Not you.” His hand snaked into her hair and loosened her braid, the tendrils flowing down like silk.

“Here,” he said, as he carefully began to remove her armor. Her muscles and joints ached as the metal was pulled away, glad to be rid of such a burden. Zevlor set the pieces to the side of the room, gently removing one after another after another. “I will send for hot water and oils, you should bathe. It has been a long, tiring day, and no doubt you need to nourish your soul. I will leave you now, and I will see to it that you have all that you need before morning.”

Tav caught his wrist in her hand and held tightly. “You are all I need to nourish my soul. A bath can wait, unless you truly cannot stand to see me as I am.” 

He hesitated. “We will… compromise. I will send for hot water, but I will stay and keep you company, if you will allow. There is a privacy curtain around the tub for such occasions.”

She sighed, knowing this was the best she was likely to get, and it was a great concession on his part. She nodded, acquiescing to his request. He smiled and turned to leave, promising to return soon with fresh water and clean towels.

****

Tav allowed herself to sink into the tub, the hot water steaming around her face. She cleaned off most of the blood and sweat, idly chatting with Zevlor from behind the curtain as she had done so. He told her of the remaining stragglers at Moonrise and of getting them to Last Light. He also seemed surprised that while his homecoming was not a raucous affair, he was not turned away, and indeed, many seemed glad to know that he was ultimately alright.

While in the midst of rinsing suds from her hair, Tav’s stomach uttered an ungodly grumble. She laughed. “Zevlor, do we have anything in the way of vittles up here? My guts seem to be lodging a complaint as to their state of emptiness.”

The tiefling chuckled. “Ah, no, I do not believe there is much, but I shall fetch you something. Fruit and cheese? Sausage? Wine?”

“Yes, please,” she responded, carefully massaging a lavender oil into her legs and forearms. “I will be out when you get back, and we shall feast!” She felt him hesitate; they had both realized simultaneously that she had no clean garments in the room.

“I shall stop by your camp for some apparel, hmm?” And he shuffled to the door and gently closed it behind him. She could feel the heat of his embarrassment radiate in his wake.

Tavalia stepped out of the tub, wrapping her body in a clean towel. It was neither plush nor threadbare, but it was comfortable and up to the task of removing water from a wet body. She moved to the bed and sat on the edge, in the same space the tiefling had been when she had entered the room. The candle still glowed, and she found herself lost in its flame.

Visions of the tiefling party danced in her mind. Zevlor’s hungry eyes in the low light, his bare chest above hers, his horns between her thighs. Her teeth caught her lower lip and she sighed wantonly, remembering the pleasure that she had experienced at his hands.

Pleasure she would surely love to experience again.

Lost in thought, she did not hear the door creak open. One red, taloned hand entered, clutching a fistful of garments, shaking them gently. Tav got up and moved towards the door.

“Tavalia,” the older man’s voice reached her ears, “I have some clothing for you, and a plate of food. Please, get yourself dressed and then we shall enjoy a companionable supper.”

She grabbed his wrist, a snake shooting out from the dark at lightning speed. “I can get dressed later,” she whispered, “I would sit with you now, as I am. My forwardness worked once, I can only hope it will work again. Enter, soldier.”

A pregnant pause, before the door slowly opened and Zevlor squeezed into the room. In the hand she hadn’t seen, he grasped a bottle of wine and two glasses, while he balanced a plate with assorted cheeses, fruits, rolls, and meats on a crooked elbow. Tav shut the door as soon as he entered the rest of the way, and turned the key in the lock with a satisfying click.

She came up behind him and took the plate and her garments. The plate she set down deftly on a nightstand, and the clothing bits were tossed to the other side of the room. They landed on the floor with a quiet shuffle.

Tav dropped her towel.

By this time, Zevlor had lowered the wine and glasses to the floor, careful not to break the glass. As he turned to face her, his eyes widened and he visibly shifted from foot to foot. She approached him slowly, her long damp hair trailing down her back and swinging gently with the movement.

She came to rest in front of him and as she did so, he brought his hands to her hips. Her own hands moved to his shoulders, gently caressing the infernal ridges that were present just beneath the linen of his shirt. Her breath caught as she felt his low thrum of pleasure radiating from his chest.

“Please, I cannot.” His breath was hot and soft on her face as he spoke. “I have done nothing to be worthy of your attentions. I have betrayed those whom I had pledged to protect and save. I am not a good man, and I would not see you debase yourself with me, much as I may like to participate in such escapades.” 

She tutted her tongue softly, moving her lips to his ear. “Everyone deserves love, Zevlor. You are no exception. All of this self-pity you have for yourself, banish it. You have done nothing wrong, and nothing for which to be ashamed.” She rotated her hips in a slow motion until she was able to gently grind against his hip. “Please. I care for you. I know you must care for me, else you would not have partnered with me all those weeks ago. Let me show you how much I care, let me show you that you are a good man.”

She took his mouth in hers and kissed him deeply, raising herself to tip-toes for a better vantage. He kissed back, hard, stern; she could feel his teeth through his lips. She gasped as he gently bit her lower lip and dug his talons into her back.

Tav placed her palms against Zevlor’s chest and pushed him towards the bed, sending him backwards onto the mattress. As he laid supine, she deftly climbed up and over him until she was straddling his hips. She could feel his own arousal as surely as she could feel her own.

She bent to his neck and trailed soft kisses down the muscles and across his clavicle. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, panting. His hands roamed her back and cupped her bottom, pushing her down harder onto his lap.

Dipping her hands, she began to free the laces of his trousers. His arousal sprang free, steady and hard and ready for her. A drop of translucent dew at the tip winked at her invitingly. She drew up her hips before repositioning and lowering her sex down onto his, a fitting juncture made all the more pleasant by the sounds of their gasps and sighs.

Carefully, Tav began to rock back and forth, slowly taking all of him within her. As she sank farther onto his member, Zevlor let out a faint whine. He grabbed at her hips to steady both her and himself. She continued to rock, and he began to thrust gently into her, keeping time with her movements.

Remembering their last encounter, he pushed his thumb into her mouth and she dutifully suckled it before he moved it down to the bud of pleasure within her sex. He slowly rubbed her in time with his thrusts, and could feel her movement becoming more and more erratic. He himself was also experiencing a culmination of pleasures.

As they were reaching the brink, Tavalia bent her head to Zevlor’s ear and muttered a small incantation. Instantly, he felt his body enveloped in divine light, blessed by the gods. No; blessed by her.

This heightened his pleasure considerably, and sent him to a tipping point. He spilled himself into her, crying out in equal parts anguish and supplication. She too found her climax and shuddered, mouth agape but not breathing, not making any noises. Silent.

Finally taking in a shuddering breath, she fell to the bed beside him as they basked in a divine afterglow that lasted a few moments more. He took her hand in his and brought it to his mouth, gently kissing her fingers and snuggling his nose against them.

As their heart rates and breathing returned to normal, Tav turned towards Zevlor and crawled into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her, his tail weaving around her leg in an almost possessive fashion. She stroked his chest with her fingertips, and once again a deep rumble began in his chest, softly vibrating her head as she laid upon him.

“You are everything to me, Zevlor. I do not know where I would be without you. Having known you, I never wish to part from you. Please stay with me. Please do not be so hard on yourself, on any perceived shortcomings or failings. I know you have flaws, I can see them, but you are perfect to me. Please, let me love you.”

Zevlor’s purring hiccupped briefly, then settled again into a steady rhythm. His talons stroked her hair and pushed it behind her ears. His lips danced playfully along her jaw, planting a multitude of small kisses. He was silent for a moment.

“Would that I could see myself through your eyes, my darling. I wish I could be half the man you think I am, but I will settle for being enough for you, should you allow it.”

Tav snuggled closer and adjusted herself to pull some blankets over both of their bodies. “You are the only one for me. There is no other,” she said definitively, and with such tone that it provoked no retort from him. They laid together quietly, gently caressing and kissing one another, basking in the warmth and satisfaction of holding each other once again.

and, of course:

Emmrich Volkarin + the sluttiest thing a man can do

"what a nerd lol" i said with barely controlled lust

Please reblog this if fanfiction has been beneficial to your mental health.

I KNEW IT! Matt Mercer voiced The Viper! I had it clocked as soon as that character started talking, I fucking KNEW IT.

it used to be 2007 you know

“can mutuals dm you?” my mutuals can fire me from a cannon through a brick wall, looney tunes style. as long as we’re all having fun

I'm old and I'm okay! Mostly.

Reblog if you’re 30 or older

This is an experiment to see if there really are as few of us as people think.You can also use this to freak out your followers who think you’re 25 or something. Yay!

This aged so well 🍷

can't wait to see people draw Davrin in all sorts of heroic poses fit for illustrations of Arthurian legends, Bellara in pretty pastel sundresses, Emmrich wearing nothing but copious amounts of gold jewelry, Taash in bodybuilder poses (and shirts with the sleeves cut off and the sides scooped), Harding in the coziest of furs, Neve in suits and posed like a Leyendecker illustration, and Lucanis lit like a Rembrandt looking menacingly back over his shoulder, and for everyone to be so fucking correct