People Really Just Walk Into Horror Movies And Expect Them Not To Deal With Uncomfortable Things Despite

My Rook is smooching Emmrich and making it everyone else's problem 💀 💋

"An old professor of mine had this great thing. He said "On the level of individuals and civilization, personality predates ideology." Meaning that before you were a fascist, you were a bully and an asshole." -Brennan Lee Mulligan in conversation with Amy Vorpahl, Adventuring Academy S1E2

reblog if you enjoy napping, being cozy, being conked out, snoozing, wrapping up in blankets, sipping a hot drink, catching some z's, hugging a plushie, or otherwise relaxing and resting

Hard agree on sensitive horns. It doesn't make sense to me. I will admit to have added purr-like moments to my fics, but they're more because I like the idea of low and rumbly chest noises, not necessarily purrs.

I'm not a big fan of overly sensitive tails, even the bases, but you want to hear my controversial take? Tiefling tails ARE NOT PREHENSILE! Having tails that function like a full fifth limb really takes me out of the story.

Please don't be mean to me about this 😅 It's a sincere request and I still love that everyone is having fun with all of this.

I mean no shade or nastiness towards the people who write these things or are into these things, and I'm not trying to be the fun police. Do you and have fun! But, like...

Can I get some tiefling fanfic that doesn't talk about their "sensitive horns" or how they "purr"?

The horns thing moreso. It takes me right out of it every time. Which sucks because there are so many awesome fics out there, that wind up doing this thing, and then my brain kind of checks out.

As a fanfic writer, myself, I get that fics are usually written primarily for the writer, and I totally appreciate that fact. And as such, I'd honestly just write it, myself (like I did for the lack of Dwight Fairfield {Dead by Daylight} stuff) instead of asking the community at large, but I'm so burnt out I haven't been able to work on anything on my current list, and I've been living off of the incredibly talented people writing for Rolan and Zevlor in particular. Seriously, you are all so wonderful and your work has been a bright spot for me right now during a majorly difficult time I've been going through ❤️

Although I read someone on a different site say that tiefling horns could be viewed like goat horns because devils and goats are so often associated with each other, their horns seem to be a lot more like ram horns. This is an important distinction because goat horns have important nerves inside of the horn, whereas rams don't.

If a goat breaks a horn, not only is it incredibly painful, but they can bleed out and die. Rams, not so much.

Tieflings are shown to not only have broken horns (i.e. Karlach) in both D&D and BG3, but filing the horns down is also an option tieflings can take... Which means that there aren't nerves inside of the horn. If there were, at best, something like that would be unimaginably painful. At worst, they could die from it. And considering tiefling children can straight up break off a horn and grow it back, it's even more highly unlikely that that's the case.

If there aren't nerves in the horn, they can't feel it if you stroke the horn, or graze it with your fingers, etc.

I know we all wanna write steamy sex scenes and such—and, again, because tone is so often lost in text, I don't mean this as something mean or eye-rolly—but not everything needs to be an erogenous zone. Besides, horns can still be grabbed and used as handlebars! That's super sexy!!!

As for the purring, or other Infernal traits that get written similarly, like I said, that's way less a thing for me. But they're not Tabaxi and were originally made from humans whose blood and bodies were altered by making deals with Asmodeus. It's why tieflings can only be born of two tieflings, a human and a tiefling, or two humans with infernal blood.

Again, if you're into this, or write this, I'm not trying to tell you to stop lmao. It's just that this is everywhere and I'd like some variety that takes these things into account 😅

you say it's my villain era and what you mean is that when you were six you panicked about wearing the right thing to kindergarten, what you mean is that in middle school nobody was eating, what you mean is that you spent high school prepping for college and college prepping for adulthood and adulthood fucking lost in the system.

what you mean is that you've been good. you were a good team player. you would have never considered yourself perfectionist - those are people more popular, prettier, more successful - but you carry any flaw like a secret in you, terrified someone will desert you for the simple reality of your personhood.

if you were good you could be loved. you could be loved if you were selfless and thoughtful and caring. if you bent over for every person, if you went above-and-beyond, it would absolve you of who you actually were. deep down, how horrible that you had needs. that you had boundaries, that you had desires. you learned young that you cannot afford to cut people out of your life - you would have nothing left. it is better to live in the service of others, to supplicate. to worship. you weren't exceptional, you had to make up for it in some way. to prove to others you were worthy.

if they need you, it's the same thing as loving you. if you are always-there, always-listening, always-friendly, you are filling a role. you have a purpose. you are living correctly.

villain era, you repeat. you mean: yesterday you finally told a man no. for hours afterwards, you couldn't control your heartbeat. you mean: you've been saying positive affirmations on repeat, trying to teach yourself any new thing about how self care is necessary. you mean: three weeks ago, due to a scheduling conflict, you finally told a coworker that no, you couldn't do them a "quick favor". you have felt bad about that ever since. sure, it would have made you work late and it would have been extra stress - but you feel bad about it nevertheless.

you tell your therapist you have been leaning into evil. she asks what that means. when you tell her: sometimes i prioritize my own needs, she doesn't find it funny. she looks at you a long time.

"and that's evil?" she clarifies.

"well," you say. "feels evil to me."

*bangs on door* WHERE IS MY HOT CHOCOLATEY MILK SPIDER? I DEMAND TO SEE MY BABY AT LEAST ONCE THIS SEASON PLEASE YOU CANT LEAVE ME LIKE THIS

Sparkling Sunrise

Zevlor x (f)Tav, NSFW

“GO!” he screamed, breaking his attention from his foe momentarily to focus on her. “Finish this! The Hellriders will hold the line for you; quickly now, there isn’t much time!” He spun out of the way as an intellect devourer lunged at his chest. As it fell, his sword came down with brutal accuracy, slicing the perverted grey matter in two. 

Tavalia paused another heartbeat, staring after the tiefling commander. Her chest swelled with longing, silently begging him to be safe, to be here when she returned. 

A hand caught her wrist and spun her around until she was face to face with Lae’zel. “Come, now, we must end this, lest we all become ghaik.” A final glance over her shoulder showed her lover in single combat with yet another mind flayer. Things would get worse if she did not act now, if they did not step through the portal NOW.

She steadied her shoulders and her heart and plunged into the portal, joining her comrades against the Netherbrain for the Battle of Baldur’s Gate.

Grasping at the side of the dock, Tav heaved herself out of the water of the harbor, arms aching and straining with the effort. Around her, her friends were doing the same. Water sluiced down and out of her armor, remained puddled in her boots, drenched the inside of her gauntlets. Carefully, she removed her protective pieces and set them aside, shaking them dry as she went. 

Down the dock, she saw Zevlor and the rest of the Hellriders emerging from the Chionthar. She dropped her chest pieces and raced towards them, dodging around her other party members. She screamed his name as she rapidly approached, and leaped into his soggy arms.

Warm tears trailed down her cooled face as she held onto him with all of her power. Zevlor’s arms wrapped around her waist, squeezing her until she did not think she would be able to breathe. Sobs escaped her lips as she forced her hand into his water-logged hair, pressing her face against his neck and breathing hotly against his flesh.

“Shh, shh,” he murmured against her cheek, his talons stroking her back through her sopping wet shirt.”We’re here, we made it. We’re okay, it’s all okay.”

She choked back a cry as she pulled her face back to stare at him, to drink him in, to savor his face and his emotions in this moment. Tav wiped the tears away with the back of a hand before bringing it to rest against the infernal ridges on his cheek.

“We have wounded to tend to, as do you. Meet me outside the Elfsong Tavern in an hour, yes? We’ll find some time for ourselves then.” He kissed her forehead and gently pulled away, motioning that she should rejoin her own crew and tend to her friends.

**********

Tavalia gathered her spent armor and picked her way through the streets on her way to their designated meeting place. Rounding the Basilisk Gate, she saw Zevlor standing just outside the tavern steps. He raised his hand in a small form of greeting upon seeing her. Once again, she raced to him and launched herself into his arms, so happy to be back to him once more. 

He took her by the hand and led her up the steps of the Elfsong. They wound through tables and wreckage and made their way upstairs. Thankfully, the tavern hadn’t been hit too hard by fallen debris, but it was still seemingly devoid of life as customers had rushed home to be with their loved ones and seek shelter.

They fell through the doorway of the suite in a wet tangle, both still dripping water. Zevlor’s mouth crushed onto hers so hard she could feel his teeth through her lips. He slammed the door behind him and began to wrest her clinging, damp shirt from her torso. With equal fervor, Tav tugged at his clothing, ripping the already damaged shirt down the center of his chest and pulling it off his arms like a woman starved.

Cold air hit her chest as her shirt came off, and her nipples rose to attention under the stark change in temperature. “I’m all wet,” she muttered into his mouth as a frigid line of harbor water trailed from her hair and down the length of her back. Zevlor kissed Tavalia harder, then licked his tongue against her bottom lip. “Hopefully in my favorite place,” he growled as he cupped her sex in his palm. Tav moaned.

“Good girl,” he purred. Her breath caught in her throat at the words, her center becoming even warmer. He kissed and nibbled at her neck and ears while dragging her pants to the floor; at his motion, she stepped out from them and was laid bare for him to see. 

Hot hands fondled her bottom as Zevlor delicately took one of her taut nipples into his mouth and suckled gently. At once, her body rose to his and she whimpered, reveling in the feel of his tongue and its warmth on her tender and soft buds. Tav clawed at his breeches, urging them off his hips and onto the wooden boards where they were promptly punted to the other side of the room. 

Tav’s arms rose and encircled Zevlor’s neck, pulling his mouth back to hers. He was only too happy to oblige, though one hand moved from her ass to the heretofore unmolested nub on her breast. 

They moved in tandem to the bed where they fell together, hungry. “Slow down,” he chuckled, pulling his face from hers, “let me show my appreciation to the Hero of Baldur’s Gate.” He moved behind her in a spooning position, snaked his arm over her hip and gently toyed with the soft tuft of hair surrounding her sex. She was already hot and wet for him, and he grinned.

Gingerly, he worked a finger between her folds and gently teased the bud of her sex until she gasped and began rocking her hips. “There,” he cooed, “just like that. This is perfection, you are perfection. I know you think you’re ready for me but let’s just make sure, hmm?” He flicked and rubbed her until her thighs clamped shut and she called out in pleasure. Zevlor rolled her to her back, and Tav spread her knees for him.

He pressed a light kiss to her forehead, and another along her neck. The kisses began to train down her chest and torso until they began landing on her thighs, the last punctuated by a small nip of his fangs. “Do not deny me the pleasure of your taste, my love, for I have been fixated on the sensation for days. Let me know perfection.”

His tongue, hot and wet, slid between the folds of her sex and found her most sensitive point. He licked and swirled, and reality faded in and out for Tav. She was both here and not here, maybe somewhere else entirely. All she knew was pleasure, and she ground her hips into it.

No sooner had she found a rhythm than she came undone again, gasping and crying out as her body seized around her. Her thighs slammed shut against his ears, and she swore she heard him begin to purr.

Zevlor came up for air, kissing her thighs and singing her praises as she tried to recover her breath and steady her heart rate. She tried to roll to her side and bury her face into a pillow as he swiped his mouth on the back of his taloned hand, but he held her hip with a firm grip and tutted his tongue at her. “Oh no, my love, I am not done with you yet. There will be time for rest later.”

Tav’s head swirled, trying to decipher his meaning, when she once again felt his tongue at her center. She thought about pushing him away, but then she felt his fingers, first one, then two. They entered her and reached for her, beckoning her to follow him again. Almost instantaneously, she found her release again, harder than the time before. She cried out and whined, desperate for respite, desperate for air.

She was silenced with his mouth on hers. She tasted herself on his tongue, soft and gentle and feminine. Her hands tangled into his hair before pushing him back against the bed.

He was grinning like the cat that had eaten the canary. A challenge.

She accepted. She licked at the sensitive cartilage along his fiendish ears, trailed her tongue down his neck, and began planting kisses on his chest. Her fingertips trailed over his nipples and he made a sharp intake of breath as contact was made with each.

Her hands moved to the inside of his thighs, careful not to touch his arousal. Not yet. Instead, they massaged and teased, inching ever so much closer to where he desperately wanted them to be. His hips rocked gently, longing to find purchase against her body. She bent her head and carefully licked a gem of arousal from the tip. He stiffened under her, arousal almost quaking and stretched to its limits. He needed her, and badly.

She licked his shaft from base to tip with the flat of her tongue before taking him in. All of his ridges were deliciously delightful against her tongue and cheeks. Her head bobbed as she slowly took more and more of him into her mouth, relaxing her throat to allow him to experience this pleasure to the full extent of her abilities.

He groaned and threaded his fingers through her loose hair, applying a small amount of pressure but nothing that would be construed as forceful. Her hand encircled his base, gently stroking up and down as her mouth and tongue continued on their quest to his exquisite release.

“You look so pretty when you do that, perfection, my love. But if you don’t stop now, the night ends far too soon for my liking. Come up here to me, please. Yes, beautiful.”

Tavalia joined Zevlor at the head of the bed, where he promptly flipped her onto her back again. He nudged her thighs apart with his knee, his tail caressing the inside of her leg while he did so. As he positioned himself, she jutted her hips up at him impatiently, and he laughed. “What, there hasn’t been enough for you yet?”

She grinned. “With you? Never. It’s never enough.” His mouth crashed onto her as he brought his sex to hers and slowly worked it within her. She cried out and grabbed his hips as he positioned her ankles on his shoulders.

He continued to enter her. “One more, my love, can you do one more?”

Tav bit her lip and nodded, bringing her hips to his in response.

He planted his full length and began rocking into her, moaning quietly as sweat beaded on his brow. As he found his rhythm, a careful thumb found her sex and began to once again to trace delicate designs against the soft and sensitive skin. She bucked and cried out, already walking the line between pleasure and release.

“This time, with me. Can you do that, with me? Of course you can, my perfect girl.”

His hips slammed into her again and again and again, and each time he hit a deeper part of her than she knew existed. Her hips moved in time with his, of their own accord. Pressure mounted in her belly, a spring tightening and preparing for release.

And then the spring was sprung. She cried out loudly, in a voice that walked the line between pleasure and pain, gasping for breath and exalting Zevlor’s body and stamina. Immediately, he found his own release with a guttural groan, driving himself into her soft flesh and unleashing his spend into her core.

They laid together on the bed, panting, with hearts racing and relaxation seeping into their muscles. Not even three hours ago they had been battling the Absolute to save Baldur’s Gate, and now… 

Well, now they were here, together. Zevlor cradled Tavalia in his arms, a deep baritone purr emanating from his chest. His tail laced through her legs, keeping her close and refusing to let her go. “You were perfect, my love. Just perfect.”

Once again in a spooning position, they faced the window. The world of Faerun was dark, but not silent. Much work would need to be done to rebuild Baldur’s Gate and bring it back to its former glory. However, for them, it was a problem for tomorrow. For now, they had only themselves to worry about, and they stayed close, reveling in each others’ warmth and gentle breathing: reveling in life.

"Why are there so many dragons to fight?!" I mumble, exasperated, as I play the latest installment in a franchise entitled DRAGON AGE.

The snarf I snarfed 😂

on that GILF -> VILF pipeline

Emmrich Volkarin and Johanna Hezenkoss in their 30’s