Teasing Game - Pt. 4 (Zevlor X Tav)

Teasing game - pt. 4 (Zevlor x Tav)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 5 part 6 part 7

A few more cups of wine had been exchanged among your friends, the mood of the group as best as it could be.

Wyll was still sure that Zevlor had been jealous and I was still sure he wasn't. Nonetheless he is back to his normal self, comfortably talking with the others.

"So, how do you plan on teasing him today?", Astarion said as he approached you.

"Oh, I thought I've done enough for today."

"Honey, you didn't even start. I mean it has been nice if you plan on spending the rest of your life with this little game. Maybe in 10 years you'd get him to kiss you."

You laughed and honestly you agreed to him. Zevlor is probably the most patient man you knew and you never noticed him interested in anyone at all.

"You are probably right.", you responded.

"Darling, you know I am."

But honestly, he wasn't.

You have been thinking about what to do the whole evening, even when most of the others were already asleep, while some of them still quietly talking.

Sleep didn't come easy for you, so as most of the nights you found yourself staring up at the stars with the only difference today being that your head was still spinning from the amount of wine you had.

Sitting up you stared at the water reflecting both the moon and the campfire. You couldn't sleep anyway, so why not go swimming?

You took a few steps away from camp just so you were out of sight, not expecting to see Zevlor there already in the water. His clothes were folded and laying near the water, his hair untied and wet. Some small drops of water were falling down from his hair and running down his back. You should turn around just going back to camp and act like you never saw him here at all. Thats until he turned around, he probably had heard your footsteps.

You turned around quickly.

"I apologize, I didn't plan to stare.", you said.

"It's fine, you probably just felt like cooling down in the water just as I did. I'll be leaving so you can have your turn.", he said.

"No, I don't want to interrupt you. I'll go somewhere else."

Honestly your bravery just left you in that moment. The image of him standing there in the water, the wet skin of his back shining in the smallest amount of light coming from your camp. You hadn't expected the amount of muscles on his body, which was dumb of you as you knew he was very well trained in fighting.

"Well, theres enough water for both of us here. If you don't want me to leave then feel free to join me.", he stated and you could feel his gaze on you.

"Are you sure it's okay?", you asked. You knew he was going to be okay with it, you just tried to keep the conversation a bit longer to collect some of your courage.

"I am very sure it's okay." You could hear the amusement in his tone.

"Fine.", you said and turned around towards him. His lower body was covered by the water, which you were grateful for. Not that you wouldn't have enjoyed the view but you were already overwhelmed by the sight in front of you.

His skin glistening, the drops of water moving along his skin and the way his gaze was on you with the small smile on his lips. You gulped and you knew it was too late to run away now.

He still hadn't turned around and the expression on his face told you he wasn't planning to.

You tried to hide your embarrassment and started undressing. Pulling your shirt over your head, you laid it down next to his clothes and continued pulling off your shoes and pants, leaving you in only your underwear.

His eyes were still on your form and you noticed your cheeks feeling warmer and warmer every second. You usually weren't shy about your body and with the wine running through you, you should be especially bold.

"Sorry, I should have turned around. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable.", he said as he probably had noticed your discomfort. It wasn't that you didn't want him to see you, but still you kept shying away from his glance. You looked in his direction and noticed he had turned around, which gave you the opportunity to fully undress and step into the water.

It felt cold on your skin, which gave a nice contrast to how warm your body felt, the effect he had on you.

You walked into the water, far enough to cover most of your body.

"It's so refreshing.", you sighed.

His eyes landed on you again and he nodded.

"That's true, the fire at camp and the wine had me feeling too warm, that's why I am here too.", he agreed. What he didn't say was that your presence had just the same effect on him.

"Did you enjoy the night?", you asked him. You should be making a move, it's like Astarion said earlier: he wouldn't do anything otherwise. It didn't make sense why right now you felt like a teenager, who is too shy to hold their crush's hand.

"I'm still enjoying the night.", he responded. He took a step closer to you, now standing right in front of you as he looked down on you.

You gulped and tried to look anywhere else but at him, which wasn't easy with him standing right in front of you.

His hand reached for your chin, moving it up so you had to look at him. He leaned closer, bringing his lips close to your ear. So close you could feel his breath on your skin.

"Do you think I am not aware of the game you have been playing with me?", he whispered.

A shiver ran down your spine and you were shocked. So he had noticed.

"I don't know what you mean.", you replied. Your voice barely even a whisper as you were still shocked by how bold he was right now.

"I think you do." He said and looked deep into your eyes. "You should be aware that two can play this game."

You knew what he meant the second you felt his tail on your leg. It wrapped around it and slowly moving up your thigh. He watched your face as your eyes grew wide. He pulled back his tail just moments later, obviously using your teasing game against you.

"Have a good night, my dear." He smiled and leaned closer to press a kiss on your forehead before he moved out of the water. You were frozen in place as you still felt the tingling on your leg, so close to where you wanted him to touch you.

When you finally moved again and turned your head in his direction, he was already dressed and on his way back to camp.

What did you get yourself into now?

boyfriend material ❤️‍🔥

*clears throat* why I think Larian should let us recruit Zevlor:

More people are desperate for Zevlor than I thought at first. We all want to see him happy. We all want him to get all that he deserves and more. He just has SO much potential, he’s such a well written character just for his story to get cut off so suddenly? Thinking about how badly his story was neglected by Larian after they made us so attached breaks my heart. Of all side characters we met along the acts he is undeniably one of the most important and memorable ones; we fought for him, we saved him, we helped him, hells we even get the option to reject his payment for us for helping him and his people.

We practically got nothing out of helping him, especially the ones who reject his payments and i find myself rejecting the payment every single playthrough because i can’t find it in my heart to take something away from people who have nothing left already. If you betray the tieflings you get Minthara- and yes that may cost you certain companions too, but wouldn’t it be fair to be able to have Zevlor at camp if we save his people? At least after we save him in act 2? That way it would still be optional but god I need him so badly, I need to see him happy, I need Larian to let me look after him and take care of him and make sure that he doesn’t drown in sorrow and I know everyone who reads this feels exactly the same.

He went through so much, and every time his hope returned it got shattered to bits again. And it just feels like we’re forced to “give up” on him after we let him wander away in act 2. It doesn’t feel right. It will never feel right. We saw how miserable he was in that pod, how distressed and in pain he was. Common sense would have told us to take him with us. Make sure he fucking survives the night without doing anything stupid. Clean him off the blood and clean him off his worries, all that self hatred.

God, do I so hate to see him in such distress. And while a tiny part of me believes that death might have actually been a small mercy for him I was and will never be ready to give up on him.

Every time I see him on that damned screen, every time he speaks and every time I witness him interact with someone I DON’T see an oathbreaker who failed his people and had to be saved from being consumed by the Absolute. All I see is a competent leader who carries a burden not meant to be carried by one person alone.

This has nothing to do with him being weak. This has nothing to to with him being incompetent or not careful enough. This has nothing to do with any lost faith or broken oath. This has to do with the fact that he is so selfless that he wouldn’t allow himself to share this burden with anyone.

Yes he has (had?) his fellow tieflings, he has Tilses right beside him all of the time. But did he ever open up to her? Does he ever accept any help from his own people while he knows that they are already suffering? Would he EVER allow ANY of these people to carry even a SLIVER of his burden?

No. He would not. He would NEVER let them bear any of those duties, he has seen them in way too much pain already, seen them suffer far too often.

He is the type who gives and gives and gives and he never takes. He doesn’t know how to take, take anything positive.

His past, his comrades, his Hellriders- yes he had them. They gave him as much as he gave them. But they got torn away from him, cruelly and mercilessly.

His people, the refugees, family- he had them. And they gave him the respect and admiration he deserved. But they got torn away from him. Cruelly. Mercilessly.

His saviour, us, Tav- he had us. But we left him. Because we had no choice. We watched him walk of as though it was nothing. Cruelly. Because we could do nothing else.

And yes, I will always see red at that. Because we SHOULD be able to do better. We shouldn’t be just another loss for him.

And I will personally fistfight Larian if it meant hope for just a single chance at giving Zevlor what he never allowed himself to have: stability, encouragement. Someone he can rely on and share his burden with. A rest. Peace.

(Larian do you hear me I am under your bed we are going to fight)

(Scratch would like him to stay at camp, too)

(And what Scratch wants, Scratch gets. Right?)

(No because when you talk to Scratch the second time at camp during the tiefling party he actually says that he wouldn’t mind if you kept the tieflings at camp… trust me, Scratch, i wouldn’t mind either)

…I’d honestly die for him who’s with me

For the Dark Urge Tavs | Zevlor x Reader

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, very tender. Durge-centric. Yes I am supposed to rest. But the genius struck. I want to write more angst, more gore, more fights…

(Painting by Antoine Wiertz - The Greeks and the Trojans Fighting over the Body of Patroclus)

You had to tell him, and you had to tell him now. Too great would be the betrayal of a lie so profound, too radical the risk of shedding blood—or worse. You took a deep breath and faced him, glance cast downward, averting his questioning eyes as you spoke.

“Zevlor. I have been hiding something, something of great importance. And though I cannot promise this bond between us eternity, I know that I will regret endlessly if I keep this secret.”

You felt your blood thrumming in your skull, bone aching and stinging. A silent threat to you, issued by the parasite that isn’t the worry of your companions. Another. Not one with a physical form, not one you could possibly simply pull out of there if you wanted to. Something deeper, darker. An urge. An instinct. A trait. A trait so terrifyingly deadly and hungry.

“I was born of gore, raised in blood—fed on it. I was born a lesser being you could ever come to be. I was born not a devil, but worse. I was born not disfigured, but worse. I was born beautiful, tragically, without asking for it. I was nursed by mistakes, I blossomed from the guilt grown from it. And there were times when guilt had no care left for me, there were times when regret is not a feeling I knew. And sometimes, there are still times where I don’t know who I am, where I don’t know what to do with these hands of mine. Because no matter what I do, no matter what I touch. It will rot. It will wither. It will die. Death is my constant companion. Where I go, he goes. Where I act, he reaps. And I am afraid.”

You hesitated to place your hand against his cheek, but you did so anyway, your eyes finally meeting his. The flames within them seemed to flicker, hazy with a kind of understanding, a kind of acceptance, but also, fear.

“I don’t want you to be the next, I cannot have you be the next. Anyone but you. I am afraid. I can’t lose you, not you of all people.”

Your cheeks were flush from emotions, fear of loss, anger at yourself. Embarrassment that the thought of killing the one you loved so dearly could even dare to cross your mind. You almost flinched when he reached out to cup your face with one clawed hand, but melted into his embrace when his thumb stroked gently beneath your eye. You felt it now, your skin was damp, and his as well now. You hadn’t realised it but you were crying, your vision blurry from the tears that still welled up in your eyes, and your hands trembled, one at the side of Zevlor’s neck and the other one tense, in a fist, at your side.

“Please, don’t cry, my dear.” His hand moved from your cheek behind your head to pull you closer, his forehead settling against yours as both of your eyes closed. His other hand found your tense one and wrapped around it, silently pleading you to loosen your fist, and so you did. As his fingers threaded through yours and held your hand firmly, you let out a shaky breath and felt your body relax a little. The tremble was still there, though not quite as intense as before.

“I trust in you, I trust that this is something that can be resolved. Eventually. And I will wait centuries for you if I have to. I will not distance myself from you. Not now, nor ever. You are strong. Resilient. We can work through this. I will not leave your side.”

“When I close my eyes. I see blood on my hands. I taste it on my tongue. I can smell it, all I can smell is metallic blood and rotting, sweet decay. I’ve seen you in front of me before, so lifeless and silent. I didn’t sleep that night, I thought about tying myself to a tree.”

Your lips felt dry, skin cracked. Your tongue darted out to wet them, forehead still resting against Zevlor’s.

“You know what I’ve done. You know that I killed Alfira. And you know she won’t be my last victim. I bear no memory of that kill, but I remember a faint feeling. A hunger within satisfied, I remember a content smile on my lips, mere seconds before I realised what I had done. And I couldn’t get the blood off my hands that night. I couldn’t sleep. But I did not need to sleep for the nightmares to find me.”

Zevlor’s hand tightened around yours at the mention of Alfira’s death. You knew it did not leave him unaffected. She was under his care. And it was your fault that he felt guilty. He couldn’t protect her. Couldn’t protect her from you. You were the monster here, and he refused to budge, refused to condemn you for what you are.

As though he didn’t see. As though he saw something else in you, something brighter, something you were too tainted to see.

“You helped my people, you got rid of Kagha and the goblins, you could have sided against us at any moment—but you didn’t. And that says more about you than any blood on your hands ever will. Not as long as it is caused by something that isn’t entirely you.”

Soft lips found your cracked ones, mending the sores and chasing away the sorrows. You knew they would come back, the sorrows. But you wanted to try for him. Be good for him. To him.

“If I ever lose control. If I attack you. Strike me down. Play unfair. I need you to end me then. Before I can end you. Promise me. That is my only request.”

His flaming eyes looked deeply into yours. Unwavering. Lacking the hatred and fear you should be finding in them.

He stayed silent. He did not promise.

He could not.

Emeralds

Dammon x GN!Reader

A/N: yet another fictional character has invaded my brain lmao. So here’s a little fluffy piece I wrote for Dammon by I love him and wish I could romance him.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Love confessions, fluff, so much fluff, kissing, drinking (neither of them are drunk tho), required love.

The party is in full swing, the tieflings having brought the wine and the music and so much more to your camp this evening. 

You watch from the sidelines as your companions enjoy the evening in different ways. Shadowheart and Astarion have been keeping to themselves despite your encouragement to participate. Karlach and Wyll are dancing and laughing by the fire, and even Gale is letting loose for once - showing off some small magic tricks to a group of tieflings. 

You’d talked to Halsin and Zavlor both of them thanking you before wandering off to talk to other or take part in the festivities themselves. Leaving you to your own devices. 

Which…isn’t much at the moment. 

While you enjoy watching the others, you can’t help but search the small crowds for a particular blacksmith. 

You’d met Dammon when you arrived at the grove, and you’re slightly ashamed to admit that you developed a crush on the man from the moment you laid eyes on him. 

He’s handsome and kind to boot, going out of his way to help Karlach when so many other things were going on for him and his people. He even promised to help again in the future if he was able. 

How could you not pine after him? 

Your feelings had led you to spend more time than necessary at the grove, claiming to need so trade supplies or talk to someone or another just to see or talk with Dammon while you were there. Your companions got so tired of it you had to start slipping away on your own, not that you minded. 

Dammon always seems happy to see you, talking to you about anything and everything. Just a few days ago he mentioned he was working on something special for you, insisting it was a surprise when you pressed him for more details. 

You’d hoped to see him here at camp with the rest of the refugees, but as the night wears on, your hope dwindles. 

Perhaps he had so much work preparing for their departure to step away from his forge. It’s a reason you’d understand, but the pang of disappointment doesn’t hurt any less.

You’re just about to give up looking, when you finally spot a flash of a familiar green scarf among the milling bodies. 

Dammon makes his way through the camp, nodding in greeting to those he passes before he finally looks to you, eyes shining as his lips tilt upwards. 

He offers you a small wave as he makes his way towards you and you return the gesture, trying to ignore the heat rushing to your cheeks as he approaches. 

“Hi,” you offer simply, now lost for words that he’s standing before you. 

Dammon smiles, “Hello,” he says, turning to face the party in front of you both. “I was worried I wasn’t going to make it in time.” 

“I have to admit,” you begin, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly. “I was looking for you,” you tell him, “I was disappointed when I didn’t see you.” 

Dammon turns to look at you again, brows raised in slight surprise. “You were looking for me?” 

Your eyes fall to the ground, embarrassment creeping up your neck. “Yes I…” you trail off for a moment before turning to look at him again, changing the subject instead. “What kept you so late at the forge?” 

Dammon studies you for a moment, as if judging your demeanor before his eyes leave yours as his hand falls to the small pack at his side. 

“I was finishing up your gift,” he tells you, patting the bag. “Couldn’t let myself leave without giving it to you.” 

At the mention of you both parting ways soon, you feel yourself deflate slightly. But before you can let disappointment take over what’s supposed to be a night of celebration, you jab a thumb over towards the far end of camp. 

“How about a toast to go along with the surprise?” You ask, silently hoping your proposition doesn’t come off as odd. “I have some wine back at my tent, admittedly a little better than what’s been provided…” 

Dammon laughs at that, lips pulled back into a grin. “I will have to admit my brothers and sisters are not known for their wine making…” he gestures towards you. “Lead the way.” 

Your tent is on the edge of camp, further away from the others and thus away from the center of the celebration. You can still hear the music and raucous laughter, but it’s slightly muted by the distance. 

You retrieve the wine and two cups from inside your tent before taking a seat on one of the pillows laying near the entrance, inviting Dammon to do the same. 

“Sit,” you gesture to a pillow near your own, “I’m sure you’ve been on your feet all day, if I know anything about you.”

Dammon huffs out a chuckle as he nods, setting his bag on the ground beside him before he takes a seat next to you. “Then you know me well,” he affirms, “The work never stops it seems.” 

You try to ignore how close he is as you pour two glasses of rich red wine and hand one to him before taking a sip of your own. “Hm…Yet here you are. Can a gift be so important to take you from your work?” 

You watch as Dammon flushes, his cheeks turning just a few shades darker as he stares into his wine glass. 

“This one is,” He says simply, before looking up to you. “It’s for you.”

His words are so simple, so plain, yet you can hear the sincerity in them. For a moment you’re worried you’re hearing what you want to hear, seeing what you want to see. But Dammon interrupts your thoughts as he sets his glass down carefully to reach into his bag. 

He produces a small long object wrapped in cloth and tied shut. Dammon starts to speak as he unties the string. 

“I don’t know if it’s your preferred weapon,” he says, pulling at the edges of the cloth. “But the idea came to me and I couldn’t stop until it was completed.” 

He fully unwraps the item to reveal a beautifully ornamented dagger. It’s handle is wrapped in fine dark leather, the blade sparkling dangerously in the moonlight. 

The parts of the pommel visible outside the leather are inlaid with small green stones. You reach out to touch them, but pause glancing up at the blacksmith in question. 

He smiles, nodding. “Please, it’s yours after all.” 

You take the dagger from his open hands, surprised to find that it fits perfectly in your hand. The grip isn’t too large or too small. It isn’t too long or short. It fits your hand down to the very last detail. The leather is soft in your palm, well worn but sturdy. You test the blade in your hand flipping it in the air before catching it easily once more. It’s perfectly balanced as well. 

Your eyes fall back to the precious green stones in the handle running your fingers over them to find them smooth beneath your calloused digits. 

“Emeralds,” Damon says softly. “I chose them mainly because they added to the blade's appearance but I remember my grandmother once told me they represent strength, balance and…” He cuts himself off, shaking his head. “It’s not important. I hope it’s to your liking.” 

You gaze at him, your mind searching for any knowledge you may have of gemstones, when a memory snaps into place. A passage from a book your mother read to you in a jewelry shop. 

“Look little love,” she said, finger tracing over lines of text in a thick book by the checkout counter. “It tells you of all the gems' meanings.”

She read off a few - sapphires for leadership and royalty, bloodstone for revitalization, jade for success and-

“Oh…look at Emerald!” She said happily. “‘Known as the stone of successful and abundant love, Emeralds open the heart to receive love in all aspects of life. They are thought to encourage you to give and receive love..” your mother awes, “That’s sweet.”

The memory leaves as quickly as it came, and you glance immediately up at Dammon, taking note of the hopeful look he gives you. As if you could ever be disappointed in anything he gave you. 

You swallow around the swell of emotion in your throat, once again trying to shove down the bubble of hope in your chest as you nod. Looking down to the blade in your hand, thumbing the emeralds once more. 

“It’s perfect, Dammon. It’s beautiful, I-“ you shake your head looking up to him again. “I can’t let you just give this to me. This probably cost a fortune in materials-“

Dammon holds a hand up to cut you off, giving his head a firm shake. “It’s a gift. For everything you’ve done for me - for us.”

It’s only now you fully notice how close your are to one another. Dammon’s leg brushes your own, his shoulder bumping yours. And each time he looks over at you, the faint sweetness of the wine on his breath brushes your cheek. 

Once again your eyes fall down to the dagger, fingers trailing over the emeralds as you finally reveal your own knowledge on the gems. 

“I remember a time when I was much younger,” you tell him, noticing he listens to you with rapt attention. “My mother took me shopping with her in the city and we went to this jewelry shop. We weren’t really looking to buy but she loved to look at all the jewels and gemstones.” You smile at the memory. “This particular jeweler had a book on display that listed all the names of the gems and what they mean and my mother read out about a dozen before landing on Emerald…” you trail off, catching the almost imperceptible hitch of breath in Dammon. 

“It said Emerald was also the stone of ‘successful and abundant love’,” you say, finally finding the courage to look back at Dammon, finding his eyes already on you. 

Your voice is a mere whisper now. “She said something about it opening the heart to give and receive love…” your words die on your tongue. “Was this truly only a gift of thanks?” You finally ask, hope burning so bright in your chest you have no chance of stamping it out now. 

Dammon’s bright blue eyes only leave yours to flick down to your lips, and the moment he captures your gaze again his lips are on yours. 

The kiss is a sweet, chaste thing, and you can sense his hesitance as he goes to pull away much too quickly. You manage to stop him as your free hand comes to rest on his shoulder pulling him closer as you return the kiss, telling him without words that you want this too.

Your heart soars when he responds in kind, turning so he’s facing you fully as his hands settle on your hips. You set the dagger down carefully in order to wrap your arms around his neck, afraid this might all be a dream if you don’t hold him close. 

He only pulls away when you both need to take a breath and even then you don’t go far. 

Dammon rests his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering open after a moment. 

“Should I be ashamed to admit I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you?” 

A small laugh escapes your lips and you bring your hands up to cup his cheeks. “No…because I feel the same way.” 

He practically beams at your words, eyes lighting up as a grin splits his lips. 

“Does that mean I can kiss you again?” 

You chuckle again. “I’ll be disappointed if you don’t.” 

Dammon responds eagerly, capturing your lips once more as his arms wind sound at your waist. He raises up on his knees as he does so, pulling you to do the same and removing any space between your bodies as he kisses you with abandon. 

You smile into the kiss when you feel his tail curl to wrap around your waist, as if he can’t get close enough. 

Maybe you can’t either…because from this moment on  you never want to be away from him. 

You are the first to pull away this time, stroking the apple of his cheek gently as you press one last kiss to the corner of his lips. 

You move to sit back on your knees, noticing how Dammon watches you in quiet curiosity as you reach for the delicate silver chain around your neck. 

Your knowledge of gems isn’t the only thing you’d gotten in that jewelry shop all those years ago. 

You pull the necklace from where it hides beneath your shirt, revealing a simple silver pendant with a glittering emerald in the center of it. You lift the chain over your head and hold it out towards Dammon. 

He looks perplexed for a moment, before shaking his head. “You don’t have to give me something in return,” he says gently. “The dagger was a gift.” 

You smile and nod to the necklace still in your hands. “And so is this. Here-“ you say leaning towards him more, “let me.” 

Dammon finally acquiesces, eyes slipping closed as he ducks his head towards you. 

You reach up and slip the necklace over his head, mindful of his horns, and watch as the pendant settles just below his green scarf. Your lips turn upwards as you run your fingers over the smooth stone. 

“It even matches your scarf,” you say playfully, warmth filling your chest as Dammon reaches up to examine the necklace. 

You pick up the dagger he gave you, admiring it again as you speak. “Now we both have something of each other. No matter where we end up.” 

Dammon looks up at you then, eyes glittering with an emotion you can’t quite place, before he reaches out to take your hands in his own. 

“I'm sure we’ll see each other again,” he says, resolve clear in his words. 

And despite not knowing exactly where your journey will take you…

You have a feeling that he’s right.

huzzah