#alistair fanfic

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners

Chapter 1 - Hate For All Sinners

A/N – I couldn’t stop thinking about this short King after episode 5 of Hazbin Hotel came out. This is mostly a fic for me, to get me back into writing. (WILL DO A MALE AND NONBINARY ONE SOON!)

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

MALE VERSION HERE

NON-BINARY / GN VERSION HERE

“Who’s that?” Lucifer asked, pointing you out to Charlie.

In truth, he would’ve likely asked that of the next person he saw. As Charlie’s father, Lucifer was trying desperately to show how interested he was in his daughter’s project, even if he was barely holding onto anything she said. It wasn’t that he was disinterested, or too ignorant to understand the situation, but rather that after spending so much time as a recluse, locked away in the protective space of his workshop where he wouldn’t have to see the sinners or the Hell he was responsible for creating, Lucifer could barely comprehend what was going on around him. He knew it was because he was depressed, but he was trying and he had to make Charlie see that, even if it meant feigning fits of hypomanic excitement.

Yet, Lucifer found himself genuinely… horrified by you. He had seen many types of Demon over the millennia. Typically, they tended to represent Earth’s animals, such as that annoyingly powerful Deer Demon, Alistair, whom Lucifer had met thanks to this very tour… not that Alistair was worth mentioning, piece of shit that he was, mingling with Lucifer’s daughter when he had no right to even breathe the same air as her-

Lucifer caught his snowballing thoughts, turning them back to you. You weren’t an animal Demon. There were other types of Demons of course, though Flora and Fauna were the most common; object Demons also existed, such as that rather famous one that people talked about, the TV Demon, V-something? Lucifer couldn’t remember his name. He didn’t watch Television… he didn’t do much of anything these days.

“Oh,” Charlie sidled over to you, wrapping her arm warmly around your shoulder as she corralled you towards her father, “Dad, this is (Y/N). She’s one of the hotel’s, uh, allies I guess, right (Y/N)?”

“That’s right, Sir,” You held out your hand for Lucifer, who was staring dumbly at you, uncertain what to make of you.

As the ruler of Hell, fuelled by angelic power, Lucifer could always read a Demon, or rather, he could read their strength. For example, he knew after only one meeting that the bartender, Husk was a strong Demon, though his power was clearly being dampened by a soul contract, whereas that little snake fellow Sir Pentious was rather weak, though he had potential if he could manage to claim even a few souls of his own, but you? You were entirely different.

First off, you didn’t resemble an animal, plant, or object… You were the most human-looking Demon that Lucifer had ever seen; frankly, he found that disturbing. Secondly, you didn’t seem to have much if any power. What was wrong with you? To come off as human with little demonic power… Well, if Lucifer didn’t know any better, he would guess that you weren’t a sinner at all, but you had to be. You were definitely dead; that much he could tell. And, you were in Hell.

Dead and in Hell - those were the only two qualifications for becoming a Demon, so why were you like this?

“Dad, are you listening?” Charlie said exasperatedly, clearly annoyed that Lucifer’s thoughts seemed to have trailed off once again.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Lucifer stated, staring at your hand which you had seemingly retracted when he wasn’t paying attention. Damnation! Now Charlie was going to think he had snubbed her friend on purpose.

“So, (Y/N) is another one of your patrons. That’s nice.”

“What? No. Dad, I just told you, (Y/N) has no interest in being redeemed.”

“Oh,” Lucifer looked you up and down disapprovingly. It figured. Even this non-Demon was looking for power in Hell, probably so you would finally be a killer worth bragging about – Honestly, what was the point? All sinners were the same. Greedy, destructive forces who wouldn’t stop until there was nothing left to break.

“Yep, she’s our only permanent resident who wants to help rehabilitate other souls. Isn’t that great? She helps with everything here, and she doesn’t ask for anything in return.”

“That’s not true,” You blushed at Charlie’s praise. “Your daughter is very generous, Sir. She lets me stay here rent-free.”

“And that’s all you want?” Lucifer asked suspiciously.

“Honestly? Yeah.”

Lucifer shook his head but didn’t argue. He didn’t want to know what your real motivations were. It was probably as simple as hoping for regular boons from the Princess of Hell; you were clearly just biding your time. Besides, if you didn’t want to redeem your soul, then you must be just like Alistair, a sadistic monster just waiting to see Demons repeatedly fail in their attempts at redemption.

Now that his curiosity was sated, Lucifer decided that he didn’t want to lay eyes on you again. You weren’t worth his time. Only Charlie was… Well, Charlie and Vaggie, because any woman his daughter loved was practically family to him. He was glad when the tour continued, leaving you behind to catch Nifty who was trying to pull a piece of fabric from Lucifer’s coat, muttering something about the ‘Ultimate bad boy.’

“Okay, I can get you the meeting,” Lucifer agreed, doing what he could to support Charlie’s dreams of saving her people, even though he didn’t think there were any redeeming qualities for any denizen of Hell.

It hurt him to tell Charlie that he wouldn’t be able to go with her to that lofty paradise, having been cast out; how he wished he could protect his daughter from those who carried out God’s will. Still, she never asked him for anything, and if this was what her heart most desired, he would do all in his power to help.

“Will you be okay?” He asked sombrely.

“I’ll be fine,��� Charlie assured him, taking hold of his hands.

“That’s my girl.”

For a moment, it looked like Lucifer was done, but he paused, worried that this wasn’t enough to make up for the years he had been absent, leaving Charlie to fend for herself while he shut himself away.

“Is there anything else you need?”

Charlie couldn’t help but worry about her father. What would happen when he went back into isolation? He needed something to focus on, but… What was there for him when all of Hell was his prison?

She couldn’t help thinking about how little Lucifer thought of all the other citizens of Hell. If only he could see that they weren’t as terrible as he thought. Granted, they could be violent, and loud, definitely rambunctious, but these were his people, and he had to see that his gift of Free Will was a good thing, yet, if she said any of this, she was certain Lucifer would only laugh at her or tell her to get real while playfully pinching her cheek. There was no way that Lucifer would leave his home to hang out with any citizen of Hell.

Then it hit her. If Lucifer wouldn’t leave his manor to visit people, then people should be allowed to visit his manor. Or better yet, one person should be chosen to go and live with Lucifer so that he would learn just how good people could be, and Charlie knew just the person for the job.

“Actually, Dad, there is one more thing.”

“Name it,” Lucifer smiled, glad that his daughter wanted to ask things of him, as any normal child should want from their parents.

“I think it would be good for you to socialise, just a little bit.”

“Charlie,” Lucifer’s voice was strained at the thought of going anywhere else in Hell.

“I know,” Charlie reassured him, looking into his eyes; she looked so understanding that he relaxed slightly. Then, she continued in a more upbeat tone, “That’s why I think you should take (Y/N) to live with you, as your maid!”

She pounded her palm decidedly, much like a judge pounding her gavel.

“What? NO!” Lucifer sputtered.

You for your part, had seemingly been shocked into silence, watching the exchange uncertainly while Alistair grinned devilishly at you, and Angel Dust was holding in a snicker. Granted, you could have argued, but Charlie was stubborn, and she always had some kind of wild idea. Whatever she was thinking, you decided that you would go along with it; there was usually a method to her madness after all.

“It’s fine, Dad, (Y/N) doesn’t mind, right (Y/N)?”

You shrugged your shoulders passively, “I guess?”

“See? You should get to know your citizens, Dad. It will be good for you, I promise. They’re not all as bad as you think.”

Lucifer took one hard look at you. Honestly, he wished his daughter had picked the porn star or that psycho maid. You, as a very human-looking Demon, were a vicious reminder of his past mistakes. Still, he had told his daughter he would do anything for her, and he had already promised her a meeting with Heaven, and nothing could possibly be worse than that.

“Alright,” He agreed.

Then, he summoned a portal for you with the flick of his wrist.

“Good luck, kiddo.” He said to Charlie, and upon keeping a safe distance from you, he waited for you to step through the portal.

“Charlie, I’m assuming that you have a good reason for this,” You said before taking a step towards your newly appointed home, “Just call me if you need anything.”

With that, you were gone, followed closely (though not too closely) by Lucifer.

[serensama]

I was just going to leave this in my fanfic, but I could not not share how beautiful this is. Thank you to the wondrous @ashalle-art for her amazing work on this picture (and another to be posted for a later chapter). I sat and stared at this for DAYS after receiving it. Read on Ao3 Read on Tumblr

[cullenssweatyballsakk]

My happy ass writing fanfics knowing damn well I'm self inserting:

[thedragonagebigbang]

Dear Alistair (can I come home yet?)

Written by: cordy Illustrated by: Ealyblu and Jakiran

Rating: Mature Content Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandom(s): Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening Major Pairing(s)/Character(s): Alistair Theirin/Warden

Injured but determined to see his job through, Ren Amell and his new wardens delve into the Deep Roads to chase down the last of the Architect's awakened darkspawn. The return to the dank underground has the Warden-Commander longing for his safer, simpler existence as Chancellor to King Alistair, as well as dredging up some buried feelings about his friend. He deals with it about as well as can be expected.

More from cordy: @veilkeeper | @heartbreakincident More from Ealyblu: @ealyblu More from Jakiran: @onion-orlesien

Full art by Ealyblu:

Full art by Jakiran:

[effelants]

Sanguine

is a loosely canonical chronicle of the events of Dragon Age: Origins featuring a canonically impossible Warden and a F!Amell/Alistair pairing, which results in some familiar situations resolved in unfamiliar ways.

It is fully pre-written (by myself, over the course of the past seven years) and fully illustrated (by the exceptional @vjatoch), and is being published in a serial format with weekly updates.

CHAPTER 5

in which a battle plan is put into motion—or is it?

Read chapter 5 on AO3!

(Yes, it's technically chapter 6 on AO3 because chapter 1 is the cover... Don't mind that!)

Start from the beginning!

Sign up for the tag list by commenting below to get tagged on weekly update posts on tumblr! Alternatively, you can follow the tag #ssfp sanguine!

Tag list:

❀ @warpedlegacy @rakshadow @rosella-writes @bluewren @breninarthur

❀ @ar-lath-ma-cully @dreadfutures @ir0n-angel @inquisimer @crackinglamb

❀ @theluckywizard @oxygenforthewicked @exalted-dawn-drabbles @melisusthewee @blarrghe

❀ @agentkatie @delicatefade @leggywillow @plisuu @hekaerges

❀ @skinwalkingxana @queenaeducan

[mythalism]

im actually like vibrating.... we are storming through minrathous fighting venatori and giant skeletons with all of our assembled allies and trying to get to (???) and on the way we pick up solas, free from his prison, looking menacing with his glowing blue eyes and he tells us we are the world's only hope, he comes along with us to (????), turns into the fucking dread wolf before our eyes, howls dramatically and jumps on an evil ancient elven god turned dragon???????????????? ARE YOU KIDDING/!?!?!?!??!

[dontbegreedy]

Struck by Lightning

Here's a little smutty one off about Alistair and Warden Surana's first time.

Words: ~3k

Tags: Size difference, loss of virginity, smut

Art is by @ineed-to-sleep <3

[inquisimer]

dragon age character study fic recs

I'm back with another fic rec list, this time focusing on character studies! There were so many more than five that I flagged as interesting 👀 when I was putting this together, so there's definitely a chance that this theme makes a repeat in the future.

Check these awesome fics out! And leave a comment + kudos to let the author know you did💜

Vote in this poll to help me choose a theme for next week's rec list (:

-

New Tricks by Penknife (@penknife)

Dorian Pavus & Cullen Rutherford, Josephine Montilyet & Cullen Rutherford & Leliana | G | 1968 words | No Archive Warnings Apply Author's Summary: Five times Cullen found that he didn't have to do everything the hard way. Mer's Rec: If you're into Cullen & Dorian friendship, or really any Cullen friendship, this fic will be right up your alley. Penknife does an excellent job of contrasting Dorian as a beleaguered academic (beloved) with Cullen's quieter intelligence. They also highlight Cullen as a strategist and commander, not just the "send the troops" guy, and the advisor interactions resonate with coworker friend energy, which I loved. I always adore fics that explore Cullen's habits and traits leftover from so many years as a Templar and this story seamlessly weaves in those details, which brings a real depth to both Cullen and his interactions.

Names Are Cloaks by EllanaSan

Female Adaar & Josephine Montilyet | G | 2963 words | No Archive Warnings Apply Author's Summary: They can’t have that, she supposes, the Herald of Andraste being called names behind her back… The only way the situation could have been worse is if she had been an elf. She could tell the ambassador that there are people in this very camp disrespecting her at every turn but she is far too used to it to care. They call her oxwoman. They call her witch. They call her chosen or your worship. They call her Tal-Vashoth. Names are weapons. For the bearer to hold and to wield. Names are cloaks. For the bearer to wrap themselves in and discard when outgrown. Mer's Rec: With Bioware's scant lore about Qunari and the Qun, I was impressed by how this story immersed me in Adaar's history. Tidbits from canon interwoven with fascinating-slash-heartbreaking details about the Qun, Vashoth, and Saarebas, plus her introspective musings on the past and her identity make this Adaar stand out from the cookie-cutter protagonist in the best way. I want to know more about her! From Josephine's dialogue and mannerisms to the uncertainty, fear, and alienation the Herald can experience in Haven, everything about this story feels like it could be straight out of the DAI canon.

I have outlived the night by lilith_morgana (@senseandaccountability)

Loghain Mac Tir, Minor/Background Relationships | T | 2106 words | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Author's Summary: He's five, he's eighteen, nineteen, twenty, forty-six, and fifty-five, he's fifty-six, fifty-seven and ready to die. Instead, he lives. Mer's Rec: The emotion in this fic is so palpable, so visceral, and it slaps you in the face the way careful consideration of complicated characters should. With repeated contrasts between Loghain in his youth versus his later years, the author takes us on a journey from hot-headed kid to weary veteran, and it just makes your heart ache😭 It features strong exposition on Loghain's motives, feelings, and regrets during the Fifth Blight, which I love to see since it's fairly absent from the game itself. Their portrayal of Loghain in Inquisition also felt fresh and different, including a conversation with Cullen, which is a dynamic I hadn't considered before and found incredibly interesting to read. And of course it ends on a bittersweet note, as it always does with Loghain.

To Yield Is Not Weak by disasterhawke

Alistair/Anora Mac Tir | M | 4018 words | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Author's Summary: She may not like her new husband, but Anora Theirin is not about to let the world treat him like it has treated her. She will do whatever it takes to earn his trust. This is not quite what he expects. An Anora character study that explores her arranged marriage to her husband's bastard brother. Mer's Rec: this 👏 was 👏 everything I wanted out of an Alistair/Anora fic! While I think antagonism between those two has a place, this fic explored their relationship through the lens of teaching and working together, rather than animosity. It works SO well and there was a definite give-and-take, with Anora running the show immediately post-coronation, but gradually softening her harsher edges and highlighting Alistair's strengths while they grow as rulers. Anora's internal monologue, not only about Alistair, but also Cailan and Loghain, does a fantastic job showing the humanity she usually has to hide, without diminishing her competence in the least.

when the bough breaks by gummies (orphaned)

Morrigan, Flemeth | G | 1124 words | No Archive Warnings Apply Author's Summary: In her hands, the mouse is kept still. The only movement Morrigan feels from it is the beating of its tiny heart. With her eyes closed, it almost seems that she is holding in her hands its heart alone. Tiny, vulnerable, and so stutteringly fast. It must be afraid, Morrigan muses. Something twinges in her chest. Empathy. She cannot help the flare of protectiveness inside her. For now, the mouse is hers. Plucked from the world from whence it came, tucked away and safe. She wonders if this is how Mother feels of her. Mer's Rec: What struck me most about this fic was the author's grasp of character voices. Flemeth is just as cunning and calculating as she comes across in game, but I was beyond impressed by their young!Morrigan. I could see and hear so clearly how Morrigan would get from the childlike hope she has in this story to the harsher, bitter Morrigan we meet in game. I don't even know how they did that, but it was incredible to read, even as this slice of Morrigan's childhood and her abuse at Flemeth's hands was breaking my heart.

Don't forget to get your fic and art recs lined up for tomorrow's Fan Work Friday!

[lantanasmuttyfanfics]

What are your favourite ships?

Honestly you guys please send more of these questions. I love answering them and I feel like you get to know me more with them

Anyway this is a tough question… I have many ships that I like but favorites? (Please no hate, these are my opinions)

- Evil queen x Good king

- Red riding hood x bad wolf

- Daring x Lizzie

- Daring x Rosabella (Ik Ik controversial but I’m a sucker for a beauty and the beast story even if it’s a very poorly done one)

- Dexter x Raven

- Darling x Chase Redford

- Alistair x Bunny

-Ashlynn x Briar

-pied piper x Cheshire Cat (iyk yk)

Etc…

Honestly I could go on forever but it’s just impossible to chose and I’m sure I have forgotten some really great ones but these are the ones I could come up with on the top of my head

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Male-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Hate For All Sinners

A/N - As promised, one for male-presenting folks. This is also on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53448742/chapters/135282199

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

FEM VERSION HERE

NON-BINARY / GN VERSION HERE

“Who’s that?” Lucifer asked, pointing you out to Charlie.

In truth, he would’ve likely asked that of the next person he saw. As Charlie’s father, Lucifer was trying desperately to show how interested he was in his daughter’s project, even if he was barely holding onto anything she said. It wasn’t that he was disinterested, or too ignorant to understand the situation, but rather that after spending so much time as a recluse, locked away in the protective space of his workshop where he wouldn’t have to see the sinners or the Hell he was responsible for creating, Lucifer could barely comprehend what was going on around him. He knew it was because he was depressed, but he was trying and he had to make Charlie see that, even if it meant feigning fits of hypomanic excitement.

Yet, Lucifer found himself genuinely… horrified by you. He had seen many types of Demon over the millennia. Typically, they tended to represent Earth’s animals, such as that annoyingly powerful Deer Demon, Alistair, whom Lucifer had met thanks to this very tour… not that Alistair was worth mentioning, piece of shit that he was, mingling with Lucifer’s daughter when he had no right to even breathe the same air as her-

Lucifer caught his snowballing thoughts, turning them back to you. You weren’t an animal Demon. There were other types of Demons of course, though Flora and Fauna were the most common; object Demons also existed, such as that rather famous one that people talked about, the TV Demon, V-something? Lucifer couldn’t remember his name. He didn’t watch Television… he didn’t do much of anything these days.

“Oh,” Charlie sidled over to you, wrapping her arm warmly around your shoulder as she corralled you towards her father, “Dad, this is (Y/N). He’s one of the hotel’s, uh, allies I guess, right (Y/N)?”

“That’s right, Sir,” You held out your hand for Lucifer, who was staring dumbly at you, uncertain what to make of you.

As the ruler of Hell, fuelled by angelic power, Lucifer could always read a Demon, or rather, he could read their strength. For example, he knew after only one meeting that the bartender, Husk was a strong Demon, though his power was clearly being dampened by a soul contract, whereas that little snake fellow Sir Pentious was rather weak, though he had potential if he could manage to claim even a few souls of his own, but you? You were entirely different.

First off, you didn’t resemble an animal, plant, or object… You were the most human-looking Demon that Lucifer had ever seen; frankly, he found that disturbing. Secondly, you didn’t seem to have much if any power. What was wrong with you? To come off as human with little demonic power… Well, if Lucifer didn’t know any better, he would guess that you weren’t a sinner at all, but you had to be. You were definitely dead; that much he could tell. And, you were in Hell.

Dead and in Hell - those were the only two qualifications for becoming a Demon, so why were you like this?

“Dad, are you listening?” Charlie said exasperatedly, clearly annoyed that Lucifer’s thoughts seemed to have trailed off once again.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Lucifer stated, staring at your hand which you had seemingly retracted when he wasn’t paying attention. Damnation! Now Charlie was going to think he had snubbed her friend on purpose.

“So, (Y/N) is another one of your patrons. That’s nice.”

“What? No. Dad, I just told you, (Y/N) has no interest in being redeemed.”

“Oh,” Lucifer looked you up and down disapprovingly. It figured. Even this non-Demon was looking for power in Hell, probably so you would finally be a killer worth bragging about – Honestly, what was the point? All sinners were the same. Greedy, destructive forces who wouldn’t stop until there was nothing left to break.

“Yep, he’s our only permanent resident who wants to help rehabilitate other souls. Isn’t that great? He helps with everything here, and he doesn’t ask for anything in return.”

“That’s not true,” You blushed at Charlie’s praise. “Your daughter is very generous, Sir. She lets me stay here rent-free.”

“And that’s all you want?” Lucifer asked suspiciously.

“Honestly? Yeah.”

Lucifer shook his head but didn’t argue. He didn’t want to know what your real motivations were. It was probably as simple as hoping for regular boons from the Princess of Hell; you were clearly just biding your time. Besides, if you didn’t want to redeem your soul, then you must be just like Alistair, a sadistic monster just waiting to see Demons repeatedly fail in their attempts at redemption.

Now that his curiosity was sated, Lucifer decided that he didn’t want to lay eyes on you again. You weren’t worth his time. Only Charlie was… Well, Charlie and Vaggie, because any woman his daughter loved was practically family to him. He was glad when the tour continued, leaving you behind to catch Nifty who was trying to pull a piece of fabric from Lucifer’s coat, muttering something about the ‘Ultimate bad boy.’

“Okay, I can get you the meeting,” Lucifer agreed, doing what he could to support Charlie’s dreams of saving her people, even though he didn’t think there were any redeeming qualities for any denizen of Hell.

It hurt him to tell Charlie that he wouldn’t be able to go with her to that lofty paradise, having been cast out; how he wished he could protect his daughter from those who carried out God’s will. Still, she never asked him for anything, and if this was what her heart most desired, he would do all in his power to help.

“Will you be okay?” He asked sombrely.

“I’ll be fine,” Charlie assured him, taking hold of his hands.

“That’s my girl.”

For a moment, it looked like Lucifer was done, but he paused, worried that this wasn’t enough to make up for the years he had been absent, leaving Charlie to fend for herself while he shut himself away.

“Is there anything else you need?”

Charlie couldn’t help but worry about her father. What would happen when he went back into isolation? He needed something to focus on, but… What was there for him when all of Hell was his prison?

She couldn’t help thinking about how little Lucifer thought of all the other citizens of Hell. If only he could see that they weren’t as terrible as he thought. Granted, they could be violent, and loud, definitely rambunctious, but these were his people, and he had to see that his gift of Free Will was a good thing, yet, if she said any of this, she was certain Lucifer would only laugh at her or tell her to get real while playfully pinching her cheek. There was no way that Lucifer would leave his home to hang out with any citizen of Hell.

Then it hit her. If Lucifer wouldn’t leave his manor to visit people, then people should be allowed to visit his manor. Or better yet, one person should be chosen to go and live with Lucifer so that he would learn just how good people could be, and Charlie knew just the person for the job.

“Actually, Dad, there is one more thing.”

“Name it,” Lucifer smiled, glad that his daughter wanted to ask things of him, as any normal child should want from their parents.

“I think it would be good for you to socialise, just a little bit.”

“Charlie,” Lucifer’s voice was strained at the thought of going anywhere else in Hell.

“I know,” Charlie reassured him, looking into his eyes; she looked so understanding that he relaxed slightly. Then, she continued in a more upbeat tone, “That’s why I think you should take (Y/N) to live with you, as your cleaner!”

She pounded her palm decidedly, much like a judge pounding her gavel.

“What? NO!” Lucifer sputtered.

You for your part, had seemingly been shocked into silence, watching the exchange uncertainly while Alistair grinned devilishly at you, and Angel Dust was holding in a snicker. Granted, you could have argued, but Charlie was stubborn, and she always had some kind of wild idea. Whatever she was thinking, you decided that you would go along with it; there was usually a method to her madness after all.

“It’s fine, Dad, (Y/N) doesn’t mind, right (Y/N)?”

You shrugged your shoulders passively, “I guess?”

“See? You should get to know your citizens, Dad. It will be good for you, I promise. They’re not all as bad as you think.”

Lucifer took one hard look at you. Honestly, he wished his daughter had picked the porn star or that psycho maid. You, as a very human-looking Demon, were a vicious reminder of his past mistakes. Still, he had told his daughter he would do anything for her, and he had already promised her a meeting with Heaven, and nothing could possibly be worse than that.

“Alright,” He agreed.

Then, he summoned a portal for you with the flick of his wrist.

“Good luck, kiddo.” He said to Charlie, and upon keeping a safe distance from you, he waited for you to step through the portal.

“Charlie, I’m assuming that you have a good reason for this,” You said before taking a step towards your newly appointed home, “Just call me if you need anything.”

With that, you were gone, followed closely (though not too closely) by Lucifer.

[froggywentaprincin]

There are currently around 1386 fics on fanfiction.net for Ever After High. Of these, 1004 are tagged with at least one EAH character (the others not being tagged at all or only being tagged OC).

Above are the Top 15 tagged EAH characters!

Below are all the Ever After High characters that have been tagged on fanfiction.net in order of how much they are tagged:

This data taken on May 1st, 2024.

[cullenssweatyballsakk]

Ego

By Cullenssweatynutsakk aka mochichichan (I made the name when I was like, 15*)

(Nsfw on AO3)

Cullen Stanton Rutherford was not an egotistical man. 

 

Arriving at the Winter Palace to accompany the Inquisitor cemented that in his mind very quickly. 

 

He walked to the palace doors briskly, as he could feel tens, maybe even hundreds of pairs of eyes on him. He felt like a fish out of water, flying straight towards a bear's gaping maw. Whispers coming from the Orlesian ball guests sounded sweet, but the meaning behind them could only sound like the incessant buzzing of a wasp in his ears. 

 

He knew that tonight would be a night where he would be thrust into playing the ‘Grand Game’ with the best of the best. He felt his palms begin to sweat through the leather of his dress gloves, even his body telling him that he wasn��t safe here. He turned his head, looking at the dreadlocks in Kyndra Lavellan’s hair. Her hair gave a slight swish as she turned to look him back in the eye. 

 

Her locs had been braided to her scalp, the rest hanging down her back, looking like a waterfall of dark hair. Golden clasps had been woven into her hair, and colorful beads with her clans colors tied in.

 

Her full lips curved into a polite, but loving smile as she peered at him. He felt himself at ease, if only just a little bit. He knew in his heart that this was something Kyndra could handle, would solve and fix, as she always did. He may not have had the feeling of safety that came with having a silverite blade strapped to his hip; but he knew that he was safe with her.

 

For his own comfort, he drank in the soft features of her face. Her big, dark brown eyes and dark lashes, and the soft mahogany of her skin, a smooth gleam on it from the moonlight. He found comfort in the roundness of her cheeks, and the small scar on her nose.

 

Yes…. yes. He had faith. She could do this.

Find the rest on my AO3!

[tobythewise]

for Zevistair this dadwc friday: “You’re snapping. Headache again?”

-inquisimer

Thank you so much for the prompt!! written for @dadrunkwriting <3 I accidentally took a lil bit of an angsty take but hopeful ending. I hope you enjoy!

Content: Timeline wise this is set after origins but before inquisition at the Keep, established relationship, Inquistion Calling, Angst with a hopeful ending

Zevran’s steps are silent as he moves across the rampart. These walls have recently been redone, making it harder for him to properly sneak in, but walls have never stopped him before. 

There are guards on the walls, walking their routines. He’ll need to tell the Warden Commander to talk to everyone about making their routes too predictable. If someone wanted to scale a sneak attack, these routines would make it far too easy. 

Ducking into the shelter of darkness, Zevran pulls out his lockpick, getting to work on opening the door into one of the outer towers. Lock picking might not be his strong suit but in the time since the archdemon’s death, he’s been practicing! No more snarky comments about his insufficient skills. 

The lock clicks and he smiles to himself. He’s careful with the door, not wanting it to squeak as he pushes inside. 

Heading down the stairs, he makes his way into the main part of the keep. He keeps his head on a swivel, his ears to the floor to hear any footsteps. He wants to surprise his beloved warden and refuses to get caught before he can get to him. 

Footsteps prickle his ears and Zevran quickens his steps. It’s only a few more hallways before he finds the door he’s looking for. He slips inside without a sound.

Zevran is expecting the room to be empty. Usually, Alistair is either doing patrols or is with the Warden Commander. It would appear that tonight, he’s already in bed. That’s odd. Really odd. 

His armor comes off silently and he hands it in Alistair’s closet. Then his weapons come off next. He stripes himself until he’s comfortable in his underclothes before moving over to the bed. 

Alistair’s hair sticks out from the top of his sheets. Zevran’s chest clenches with affection at the sight. He’s missed his warden. The last mission lasted far too long for his comfort but on the bright side, the latest string of assassination attempts have been taken care of. They’re off his trail. For now. 

As much as Zevran wants to let Alistair sleep, the bigger part of him wants to get into bed with him and he can’t do that until he’s properly awake. He runs his fingers through Alistair’s blond hair. It’s gotten longer since the last time he was here. 

“Mi amor? Alistair?”

Alistair murmurs in his sleep. It takes a moment before he’s grumbling and opening his eyes. “Fuck off, Tristian.”

Zevran chuckles warmly. “Not our lovely Warden Commander I’m afraid.”

“What?” Alistair looks up, his eyes finally focusing on Zevran. “Zev?”

He’s so adorable like this, all confused and rumpled from sleep. He does his best not to think about how easy of a target a sleepy Alistair could be. He really needs to have a talk with him about making his room harder to break into. That can wait until the morning though. 

“Yes, it’s me. I’ve missed you.”

Alistair sits up, rubbing at his eyes. “I’ve missed you too. What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to see you, of course.”

“Right. Yeah, that makes sense.” Alistair nods his head. His eyes are puffy with dark circles under them. Zevran frowns. “By the Maker, what time is it? Do I need to get up?”

“No, no. Stay in bed. I was hoping to actually join you. If you’re agreeable that is.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Alistair says with a deep sigh. He shifts himself lower, pulling the covers over his face. 

Zevran suddenly feels unwelcome in Alistair’s space. This is a first for them. He debates whether he should take Alistair’s words or pack his things and leave in order to give him some space. 

The answer is given to him in the from of a hand reaching out of the blankets and wrapping around his wrist. 

“I’m sorry,” Alistair eventually says, “I’ve been getting these headaches,” he explains, his voice trailing off. 

“Oh,” Zevran breathes out. He lets Alistair pull him into bed with him, snuggling against his side, laying a gentle hand against the center of Alistair’s broad chest. “Is it - “ the question is left unspoken. Zevran can’t get himself to say it outloud, like that somehow will make it real. If he doesn’t say ‘The Calling’ then it can’t be that. 

“I don’t know,” Alistair eventually says. “Tristian thinks it’s something else. He’s actually thinking about sending me away to research a few things and speak with other wardens. Apparently, I’m not the only one hearing -” Alistair stops himself. He rubs at his eyes again. “I mean, having headaches.”

“Wherever you go, I will follow.”

Alistair finally opens his eyes. He gives Zevran the tiniest smile. “Thank you. I’m sorry I wasn’t more animated when I realized you were here. I’m really glad that you’re back.”

“I am glad as well. Perfect timing to join you on another grand adventure. Hopefully this time we won’t have to face an archdemon.”

Alistair manages a little chuckle. “Nothing brings people together quite like a blight.”

Zevran leans over, kissing Alistair’s cheek. Then he kisses his forehead, wishing he was a healer so his kiss would take some of his lovely warden’s pain away. Instead, all he can do is stay at Alistair’s side and help him on this mission. 

In the morning, Zevran will see Tristain and see what’s going on. He wants all the information he can get to help him track down what’s happening. There must be a reason more than one warden is hearing The Calling at the same time. 

If all else fails, he refuses to leave Alistair’s side. Long ago he’s come to realize he will see this through to the bitter end. Alistair may not be the first person he’s loved, but he will be the last. He won’t allow Alistair to experience any of this alone. 

Zevran moves so he’s sitting with his back against the headboard. “Put your head in my lap, my love. I’ll rub your head until you fall asleep.”

Alistair lets out a deep sigh, tucking himself against Zevran. “Thank you,” he whispers, “I love you.”

“And I, you. Get some rest. We’ll plan for this grand adventure in the morning.”

[effelants]

Sanguine

is a loosely canonical chronicle of the events of Dragon Age: Origins featuring a canonically impossible Warden and a F!Amell/Alistair pairing, which results in some familiar situations resolved in unfamiliar ways.

It is fully pre-written (by myself, over the course of the past seven years) and fully illustrated (by the exceptional @vjatoch), and is being published in a serial format with weekly updates.

CHAPTER 8

in which Alistair, Moira, and Morrigan spend the night in Lothering after meeting someone strangely interested in joining them on their mission.

Read chapter 8 on AO3!

(Yes, it’s technically chapter 10 on AO3 because chapters 1 and 8 are covers… but don’t mind that!)

Start from the beginning!

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❀ @ar-lath-ma-cully @dreadfutures @ir0n-angel @inquisimer @crackinglamb

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❀ @skinwalkingxana @queenaeducan @raflesia65

[laurelsofhighever]

Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins Characters/pairings: Alistair x Cousland Chapter: 15/? Chapter Rating: T Chapter warnings: None Fic Summary: The story of the Fifth Blight, in a world where Alistair was raised to royalty instead of joining the Grey Wardens.

--

In the unexpected doubling of their number, Alistair felt the shift in balance within their little group. No longer a partnership of he and Rosslyn with their acerbic bog witch guide, now they were outnumbered by strangers – or perhaps evenly matched if he counted the dog – set on a path of dubiously shared purpose. Leliana seemed trustworthy enough despite the air of mystery, but the same could not be said of Sten. Aside from the fact that he towered over all of them, the man emitted an aura of great, contained stillness, like one of Bann Ferrenly’s famous clockworks, wound up to burst into movement with the merest press of a switch. He walked with his empty fists clenched at his sides, but made no complaint about the pain of his wounds.

He also seemed fascinated by the idea of a war hound. On the first evening they stopped together, he stared for long enough that Cuno, pressed along the length of his mistress’ leg, grew leery enough to growl a warning, his ears flattened and his black lips pursed to frame the lethal curve of his teeth. Instead of averting his gaze, the huge qunari instead growled back, his own, blunter fangs bared, and only Rosslyn’s steadying hand on the dog’s flank kept him from launching across the camp in response to the challenge.

“Hmpf,” Sten retorted after a moment, and turned his eyes away.

“That’s a dangerous game,” Rosslyn warned him. “Mabari aren’t known for making idle threats.”

“I sought to understand him,” came the reply. “To fight alongside him, I must know the strength of his heart.”

“And what did you discover?”

Another grunt as he turned his attention back to the dog. “You are a true warrior, and worthy of respect.”

A further moment passed in tense silence as Cuno weighed the pronouncement, and then, like the snuffing of a candle, the tension vanished from his limbs and he went back to playing the clown, his long tongue lolling as he stretched and wriggled onto his back in a demand to have his belly rubbed. Indulging the behaviour with a smile, Rosslyn failed to notice the hard, calculating gaze still fixed on her across the fire.

It wasn’t the last time Alistair caught Sten watching her. She held the qunari’s attention as she saw to the horse, or when she listened in on Leliana’s attempts to melt Morrigan’s icy exterior, or sighted along an arrow to the fowl they hoped to spit for dinner. Though such scrutiny might be explained away by cultural differences, it unnerved him, and even woke a wyrmlike jealousy deep beneath his ribs.

“Don’t tell me you’re falling in love,” he snapped, when it needled him too far.

Sten glanced away from the other side of the kindling fire, where the rest of their group sat plucking their evening meal. “What?”

“You keep staring like you’re moonstruck.”

The qunari’s brow furrowed. “I do not know what that means.”

“Rosslyn,” Alistair clarified. “You watch her.”

“It bothers you that I do so.” It was not stated like a question.

“I want to know why,” he retorted.

Read the rest on AO3

[heniareth]

Six Sentence (almost) Sunday

Tagged by @greypetrel thank you so much!!! 🤩🤩🤩🤩

The wind ran over Astala's face and through what was left of her hair, and maybe she’d find a moment to toss the seagulls some bread and watch them fight over it. There was a smile stealing onto her face. She wasn’t going to stop it.

It was then that Alistair suddenly appeared to her right, blocking the view of the lake with his huge shemlen self. “Look, can we talk for a moment?” he said without any further preambles.

Astala felt the need to scowl, but kept herself in check. “Sure. What is it?”

I am tagging @icylook @bumblewarden @wild-houseplant @oxygenforthewicked @herearedragons

@dungeons-and-dragon-age and you, who you pass by!!