#hellforge

[vera-king-hrfl]

Remake of pinned post and updated BG3 Master List.

Mhm.

Now with the exhaustingly necessary byline; There is no AI here! Like fuck people I don't even use spellcheck and you can tell. This is horny nonsense written for feral oddballs.

NSFT, 18+, MINORS DNI

Full AO3 profile.

Finished stories include word count.

The first two are the last ones I wrote when I discovered my all-time favorite OTP, Cal and Ryldinn. Ryldinn is my OC, a drow assassin.

M/M, explicit smut, violence, discussion of past trauma, slight non-con elements in both.

Where Our Demons Hide is the BG3 story told through the experiences of Cal, Ryldinn (Tav), and Astarion. Update: Finished! This is the longest work I've ever completed and I'm really happy with it. 240,686 words.

Heat of the Night is lighter, sillier, AU story, set in BG with all the characters and magic, etc, but a more 1980s Miami feel. Characters have a set sexuality instead of being pan. This is going to be an ongoing series. Collab with @crowwolf. 118,983 words. Special warning for homophobia, slurs, and attempted assault.

What Dreams May Come is the second part of what is turning into a very interesting AU. Starring Cal, Damays, Dammon, Rolan, Lia, Astarion, Zevlor, everyone else and a bunch of OCs. Butt stuff. Succubus spittle, suggestive language.

Tangled Webs is attempting to keep the magic going but an actual non-fanfic project and a very exhausting day job have rusted the gears a bit. It's still good though! Minthara.

Reclaiming Ourselves series takes place mostly after the events of BG3. It's 3 parts and it's a different experience depending on what order you read them in. Told from POV of Cal, Rolan, Zevlor, and Dammon in different bits with some 3rd person as well.

M/M, F/M, lots of smut, heavy angst, hurt/comfort.

Goodnight Kiss is sweet, with a shy bumbling Cal trying to get a girlfriend. 24,057 words.

Comfort in the Dark starts with Zevlor and Rolan, but our bitchy wizard eventually ends up with Dammon. Angsty. 22,217 words.

Who Am I? stars Zevlor with my OC Ilyrana, a high-elven draconic sorcerer. After being rejected by Rolan, the Paladin finally rediscovers the love of his life. 21,902 words.

Master of the Tower stars Rolan with an unnamed, vaguely described afab Tav. It begins in the Last Light Inn and goes a little beyond the game, but I don't discuss game events much; this one is all about them. It's angsty in parts, but also cute, funny and very smutty. The tiefling anatomy lesson seems to be a hit. 31,931 words in 3 parts.

F/M, smut, angst.

After Hell. Zevlor and Dammon hook up and then find themselves a girlfriend. After the events of the game. No real angst or drama, just lots of fun creative sex. 23,811 words in 3 parts.

M/F/M, smut.

How to Fix Your Broken Tiefling. This one is just pure love and adoration for Zevlor from a sweet little afab Tav who just wants to make him happy. 9,526 words.

F/M, smut, loss of virginity.

Fire, Ice and Darkness tells Zevlor’s story the way I think it should have been. It's unfinished, and I don't know if I'm going to do so, but it's not far from the end and if I get enough interest maybe I will. His love interest is my OC Nienna (Same person as Ilyrana, but she's Tav in this one.)

M/F, smut, heavy angst, dub-con, violence.

[jellyfitzjelly]

Imagine Zevlor is walking around, confused why everyone is giggling and staring until one of his soldiers awkwardly tells him that they know Zevlor just visited Dammon because there is a handprint made of ash on his asscheek 😂

LMAOOOOOOOO poor Zevlor is going to want to disappear into the ground!!! Dammon and him made out in the forge :3

[cinnasalmon]

"Come on, Zevlor," Dammon told him.

Zevlor sighed wearily. He took the young man's hand and let himself be dragged on the dance floor where couples were dancing. He felt self-conscious. Surely they made a ridiculous couple with Zevlor being old enough to be Dammon's father. The young blacksmith certainly didn't seem to mind. All there was in his eyes was love, and it made the Hellrider want to kiss him until he couldn't breathe. Dammon nuzzled his neck as they danced slowly around, enjoying the music and each other's presence. Zevlor closed his eyes and focused on the young man's weight against him. For a blissful moment, Dammon was his entire world.

JELLYYYYY AWWWWWW 😭❤❤❤ this is so sweet... I love these two augh 🥺🥺

Zevlor being all "what if—" and Dammon cuts him off "So? Let them judge." And not giving a single shit about it. We love to see it 👏

[orehuna]

@jellyfitzjelly you are responsible for infecting my DMs with hellforge brainrot and I just had to get this outta my head.

Pairing: Zevlor/Dammon

Warnings: none

Rating: sfw

It's my first time actually posting any of my writing and i haven't written anything of this length in over 10 years so please be kind 🥺

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I'm loving the whole idea of Dammon having a crush on Zevlor since he was a kid, sneaking off to watch him training the newest recruits. His posture straight, his tone commanding... Though his favourite moments were when he caught him training alone, often early in the morning, under the ever blazing light of the Companion. His movements precise yet graceful, and he watched, mesmerised, long past when he was due to be back at the family forge. He often got in trouble for that, but he was young and it was just a silly crush. It would pass eventually... right?

As Dammon got older, he got busier, preparing to take over the family business. He would spot Zevlor from time to time in the city, now a Hellrider commander, the young tiefling's gaze following him longingly until he disappeared into the crowd. He thought of him often.

During the descent, he loses sight of the Zevlor altogether. There was so much going on, he lost his family, he spent his days in the forge, helping as best he could, whilst also learning more than he ever had, his skill growing exponentially, quickly becoming one of the best smiths in Elturel. He almost forgot about his Hellrider. Almost.

One day, the commander himself walks into his forge and his heart stutters to a halt. There he was, as proud and fierce as he remembered. A little older, more scarred, brow heavy with the weight of his vocation, but no less captivating. In that moment, Dammon knew. It was him. It had always been him. No-one else could ever possibly compare. He was desperately and utterly in love... and he was so thoroughly fucked.

***

Zevlor recognises him as one of the youths who used to watch the Hellriders train. He had thought that perhaps one day Dammon would join up, with how often he saw him hanging around. But it seemed he had a different calling. Now a young man in his prime and one of the most sought-after blacksmiths in this gods forsaken city.

Zevlor began checking up on him regularly. The poor lad had no-one, facing the horrors of Avernus alone, though he did seem to be taking it better than most. Perhaps his visits to the forge were more for himself, a rare reprieve amidst the chaos. It kept him grounded, gave him a tangible reminder of what and who he was fighting for.

He would find excuses to keep "fine-tuning" his gear even though Dammon's work hardly required it. Though his visits were regrettably brief, he began to consider the younger tiefling more attentively. The way he would rub his face when he was nervous, the crease of his brow as he concentrated on his work, the deftness of his fingers working the fine rings of maille, the sculpt of his arms and shoulders as fine as any Hellrider's as he bent metal to his will... And his eyes... His eyes soft and bright and full of curiosity, a beacon of comfort in such a terrible place.

And then came the return of Elturel to Faerûn, the relief and celebration of victory short-lived, as eyes full of suspicion and hatred turned towards his people. The exodus that followed, his shame... It saddened him to see the young blacksmith amongst the refugees. He couldn't help but feel he had failed him. He deserved better than this.

They all did.

***

Dammon's heart aches. He sees the weight on the old Hellrider's shoulders and he wishes he could do something, anything, to offer him some form of comfort. But Zevlor was as stubborn as they get, and insisted on bearing these burdens alone and in silence. He would still always make sure to check up on Dammon along their journey to Baldur's Gate, but he remained stoic, guarded. Yet the young tiefling could see the bags under the Hellrider's eyes growing darker, his cheeks growing hollow, his posture slumping when he thought no-one was looking, the constant furrow of his brow... And it was driving him to near madness! He needed that stubborn old man to let him in! To let him take care of him like he had him during their time in Avernus... To let him love him...

But he pined in silence, his longing and frustration only growing. Just as Zevlor's own longing grew for his beloved blacksmith. His visits to the young man, much like in Avernus, the only source of comfort to him during this long and arduous journey. He craved his presence, his voice, his hand on his shoulder... He daren't wish for more... Dammon deserved better...

And yet during the long nights his thoughts always turned to him, dreaming of what could have been, were he a better man.

***

Once they reach the Emerald Grove things only worsen. Zevlor spends most of his time in that damned cave, pouring over maps and becoming even more weary and drawn, and Dammon is at his limit. One evening he finally decides to pay the tiefling leader a visit, with the excuse of gifting him a new sword. He had noticed the old Hellrider blade conspicuously missing from Zevlor's side as of late.

He finds him, as suspected, pouring over countless notes and maps strewn over his stone table. Zevlor doesn't look up, too absorbed in his work to register his presence. Dammon clears his throat and Zevlor finally raises his tired eyes, his gaze softening as he sees the young blacksmith standing across the table.

"Dammon, it's good to see you.", he straightens with a wince, his back protesting the long hours of research. He catches Dammon's troubled expression. "Is everything alright?", he asks, his concern immediate.

At that, something snapped within Dammon. "No. It isn't.", he huffs, discarding the new blade on the table more forcefully than he intended. "You are working yourself to death!", he rounds the table as he speaks. "Never asking for help, never giving yourself a break. You are always putting others before yourself!", he stops in front of Zevlor. "I can see you wasting away day by day and I can't stand it! You don't have to do this al—"

"It is my duty—"

"Damn duty!", he cried. Dammon closed his eyes, taking a steadying breath. "I just... I don't want to lose you..."

Zevlor sighs, shaking his head. "There is no need to worry yourself on my behalf Dammon. I assure you, I will be fine.", he begins to turn away, hoping to hide his wistful expression, but Dammon is having none of it. He catches his arm, pulling him back, and before he can stop himself, his hands are cupping Zevlor's face, crashing his lips to his in a sudden, desperate rush of passion. Pouring every day of longing, every ounce of frustration, every silent plea for more into this one single moment of vulnerability. Zevlor stiffens in surprise, hands rising instinctively, hovering over Dammon's waist, hesitant to touch him. His body betrays him as his lips respond in kind, as if of their own accord, hungry... desperate.

When Dammon finally pulls back, they are both breathless.

"Dammon... I... y-you don't want—", Zevlor stammers, trying to gather his thoughts.

Dammon shook his head, gently grasping the Hellriders hips and pushing him back against the table, "Let me take care of you", he murmurs.

Zevlor's breath hitches as he let the younger man's hands roam his body. Perhaps his dreams weren't so unlikely after all...

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Yes I am leaving it here because I am evil muahaha 😈

...This got out of hand real fast this was supposed to be a lil imagine! A lil drabble at most! I wasn't supposed to be writing dialogue wtf?? This took on a life of it's own. How did this happen?? What do I even call this? A ficlet? A one shot? Idk I'm new to this 😭 I had to force myself to post or I would never stop changing things 😭

[daisyofwaterdeep]

here's a hellforge thought to keep u sustained throughout the day: Dammon fucking Zevlor against the wall. On the other side, Tilses and the others are chatting and having a good time while their Commander is getting fucked in his office.

UJVFJFDNVF THIS WILL INDEED SUSTAIN ME GOOD LORD THANK YOU

[poetryvampire]

how do we feel about Zevlor/Dammon (aka Hellforge)...

Ooooh very good!🧡

I haven't seen/read that much of them but what i have ive really liked and would love to see some more.

I just feel like it would be hella passionate. Sooo good for that spice 🔥🔥🤌Dammon's so bold and much more comfortable with who he is and what he wants. Like he's gonna be frank about how he wants to nail zevlor right into the floor. And when getting that kind of energy I think Zevlor would give it back in full. They're gonna get very creative together. Its awakening some of that hellfire mischief in that old man.

Plus gods I'm so weak for age gaps in general, but man I love Zevlor just being awestruck by a his beautiful younger lover wanting him. But this time instead of zevlor pining and trying to hold back they literally can't keep their hands off each. He still has some doubts but doesn't have time to linger on it cause they're fucking again and again and again

Anyway lol I like the dynamic I think it's really fun 😁

[jellyfitzjelly]

Hi! I saw your reblog of Zevlor in the wavemother robe, how do you think Dammon and Rolan (separately) would react to Zevlor wearing such clothes 👀

MY GOD

Dammon would JUMP his bones. Full on fucking him with the dress on. Biting him, sucking bruises. Zevlor is walking away with a limp!!!

Rolan? He's staring. He's ogling. But he's a good boy who asks permission before he starts sucking cocks. The ways he wants Zevlor are incredibly sinful when he is in that dress.

[jellyfitzjelly]

Your Zevlor x reader rut piece was just amazing! It makes me imagine what if Hellforge both in a rut? Thinking about Dammon and Zevlor, wrestling for “dominance” (perhaps foreplay for rutting tieflings 👀), growling and nipping at each other’s flesh until one of them “submits” (in my head, it’s Zevlor). Dammon knots Zevlor as the older man comes untouched below him ✨

- Hellforge jealousy anon

WHAT HAVE DONE TO ME ANON RKSKDKSKS I was supposed to work on anothe prompt but I saw this and wrote a fic in a fugue state.... I simply couldn't resist 😩

Hellforge in rut | NSFW | AO3

Dammon growled as he pinned Zevlor to the bed. The Hellrider bared his teeth, digging his claws into the young man’s shoulders. Their knots brushed, bringing sparks of pleasure. They had been pent up for a full week, unable to see each other when their rut had started exactly at the same time. Now that they could spend the night together, they had been at each other’s throat the minute they closed the door. They loved to battle for dominance, a way to scratch their primal instincts while also having rough foreplay.

Dammon bit his lip. Zevlor yelped, tasting blood. His cock twitched. He flipped their position, wrapping a hand around the young man’s throat. He rubbed his cockhead against his entrance, squeezing his windpipe. Dammon snarled, writhing, clearly refusing to submit. Before Zevlor could do anything, the young man surged forward to bite his throat, sinking his fangs into his flesh. The Hellrider cried out, humping him as pleasure overwhelmed him. Dammon pushed him back on the mattress, teeth still in his throat as he grabs his horns. He forced the older man to roll on his belly, twisting his arm behind his back. Zevlor hissed, trying to bite him back but Dammon was pushing his face against the pillow. The young man spread his legs, slipping his cock between his ass cheeks. Zevlor couldn’t help a moan as he pushed back. Dammon bit him in the shoulder, keeping him in place as he pushed his cock inside Zevlor’s soft and pliant hole. The Hellrider mewled, pushing back on the intrusion. He was well and truly tamed. He was submitting.

It was a rigged game, of course. Zevlor was always going to lose, as they had agreed beforehand. And yet the fight never lost its thrill.

Dammon picked up a rough pace, chasing his pleasure as he held Zevlor in place like he was nothing  but a cheap hole he bought at Sharess’ Caress.

“Mine,” the young man growled. “You’re my bitch, do you hear me?”

Zevlor keened. All he could do was lie there and take it. He loved it. He loved to be dominated like this by Dammon. He loved submitting to him. The young man nipped the side of his throat, further marking him and making his ownership visible. As the Hellrider was reaching his climax, Dammon snarled like a geral beast and started pushing and pushing until Zevlor’s hole gave way to his knot. When it popped inside him, the ex-Commander came shouting, his cock untouched as he got filled up by the young man’s seed. His head was filled with nothing but hazy pleasure. This was where he was supposed to be. He was destined to be Dammon’s bitch, nothing more than a hole to fill up.

He smiled as he passed out from the pleasure and exhaustion.