#Zevran x Alistair

[alltears]

dragon age twitter au? dragon age twitter au. ORIGINS + VEILGUARD!!! HAPPY MORRIGAN RETURN HAPPY RELEASE DATE HAPPY PREORDER!!!!

[tobythewise]

welcome to dadwc!! for the future, or whichever pairing, maybe "One person stopping a kiss to ask “Do you want to do this?”, only to have the other person answer with a deeper, more passionate kiss." for zevran x alistair?

Thank you so much for the prompt!! :D This one was super fun to write. I tweaked the prompt EVER so slightly but I hope you'll still enjoy <3 Written for @dadrunkwriting Content: Alistair/Zevran, Truth Serum, Some mutual pining, getting together, and first kisses

Oh. This is bad. This is really, really bad. 

“Tis nothing bad, per say,” Morrigan says, trying to reassure him, but for some reason, hearing her say that does nothing to stop the panic welling up inside of Alistair. 

“Per say? Just tell me what was in there, Morrigan. What did I just drink?”

“Twas only a serum. If you could only read you’d see the label had a warning on it,” she says, pointing at the bottle and rolling her eyes. 

“Let’s just stay calm,” their trusted warden companion says, his eyes darting between all three of them. “How much of that did you drink?”

“The whole bottle! I thought it was a healing potion! It was the same color as the others!”

Morrigan lets out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This will teach you to take something from my bag without asking me first. Maybe this will help you learn that lesson.”

Zevran picks the bottle up off the ground, his eyebrows just about hitting his hairline as he reads the words. “Ah, it has been a long time since I’ve seen something like this. You have nothing to fear, my warden, so long as you’re not trying to hide anything.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Alistair demands, feeling his cheeks heating without his permission. His heart is hammering against his ribs as he thinks about the one, big secret he’s keeping from the group. Well, mainly from the elven assassin squatting in front of him. 

“It is a simple trust serum. Once it gets into your system, you will be unable to withhold the truth.”

Oh god. 

“Right,” he says slowly, getting himself to his feet and dusting himself off. “That’s my que to head into the forest for the night. Good night and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Oh, Alistair. Sharing your truth is never a bad thing,” Leliana tries to reason but Alistair isn’t in the right headspace to argue. He just shakes his head and takes off into the treeline, praying to Andraste Herself that no one will follow him. 

Alistair feels like he can’t take in a full breath until he’s hidden within the trees. He ducks behind a large one, pressing his back against it. He sucks in a sharp breath, trying to get his heart to slow down before it threatens to leap right out of his chest. 

By the Maker, he feels so fucking stupid. How could he not look at the label before drinking that potion? Why’d it have to be truth serum? 

He’s not trying to lie to his companions but he’s certainly not trying to let them all know about his big, stupid crush!

Alistair drops his head back against the tree, staring up at the sky which he can just barely see through the branches. He should have brought his bedroll with him out here so he could sleep away from the others. He was in such a hurry to get away from Zevran before he said something he’d regret that he didn’t even think to grab any of his things. 

Just thinking about Zevran has Alistair’s cheeks heating. Though their relationship started off on the wrong foot, Zevran has more than earned Alistair’s trust. And more than that, he’s somehow earned his affection. 

There’s a rose in his backpack he often takes out and looks at when he’s alone in his tent. It’s meant as a gift that he can’t seem to get himself to actually give away, too terrified of everything changing. Why put himself on the line when there’s so much to do? Why change anything without the knowledge that there will even be a tomorrow to enjoy it?

Andraste’s ass, he’s a mess. 

He’s so deep in his own head that Alistair doesn’t hear anyone creeping up on him until he’s suddenly not alone. Or maybe he doesn’t notice because an assassin doesn’t want to be heard until it’s too late. Either way, Alistair absolutely does not let out a high pitched scream. Nope. That must have been Leliana finding a spider back at camp… 

“Ah, fear not, it is only I,” Zevran says in way of greeting, leaning against a tree across from Alistair. He crosses his ankle over the other, looking completely at ease. By the Maker, he’s hot. 

Alistair can feel his ear heating from the thought, thankful it hasn’t left his mouth. “I wasn’t scared,” he quickly says, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Right, of course,” Zevran says with a knowing smirk that Alistair wishes he could kiss off his face. “I simply wished to make sure you were alright, my warden friend. You seemed rather upset earlier.”

Alistair opens his mouth to reassure Zevran that everything is fine, except what comes out is, “I’m freaking out right now and I don’t want the others to know.” He snaps his mouth shut so quickly it makes his teeth ache for a moment. That wasn’t what he wanted to say at all! Shit, this truth serum will have him confessing his feelings if he’s not more careful. 

“Is there anything I can do to be of service? Anything to help?”

“Yes,” Alistair says without thinking. He covers his face with his hands, letting out a frustrated groan. 

“If you don’t mind, I would like to hear how I can help.”

Alistair chooses his words more carefully. “I would be less embarrassed if you were not the one talking to me.”

Zevran’s easy smile melts away for a moment, a look of hurt crossing his features before it’s replaced once more. “Ah. I understand. Shall I send our fearless leader to talk with you? It seems the bond you’ve formed with him is something special, is it not?”

“It is. But it’s not what you think. I don’t have feelings for him, not in the way you’re assuming.” Damn his mouth. Damn this serum. Damn himself for not reading that label!

Zevran hums, tilting his head to the side. “Then I am confused. Is there another you would prefer?”

Alistair shakes his head but keeps his lips sealed for once in his life. They look at each other for a long moment before Alistair forces his eyes away. There’s something about Zevran’s golden eyes that somehow read past the bullshit and find the heart of issues. He can read people, has had to in order to keep himself alive as a Crow. That doesn’t mean he wants that insightfulness pointed in his direction. 

That’s a lie. He does want that. But he’s also scared out of his mind of being rejected. 

Zevran doesn’t keep it a secret that he’s had a string of lovers in the past. He believes in finding pleasure in the sure and now because there’s no knowing what the future holds. But Alistair is the opposite. He’s never fallen in love, never had his heart stir in this way, and certainly never had sex with anyone. He’s never even kissed another person before! 

Why would Zevran even think twice about someone like him?

And yet, those golden eyes continue to stare at him, seeming to see straight through him. 

“What is the reason you’d have me leave you here? Have I done something to upset you?”

“No! No, of course not, Zevran. You haven’t done anything wrong. You’ve only done everything right. You’re amazing.”

Alistair closes his eyes, tipping his head up towards the sky once more. Maybe if he prays hard enough, the Maker will send lightning down from the skies to smite him and deliver him from this conversation. 

“You flatter me,” Zevran says and Alistair’s eyes snap open when his voice comes from far closer than before. Zevran is no longer standing against the tree. Nope. Now he’s face to face with Alistair. “I have a theory. A very interesting one at that. But I dare not test it without knowing more.”

Alistair swallows around the lump in his throat, his entire body seeming to stand on end with how close Zevran is standing. He wishes he could take a step back but the tree has has him frozen in place, unable to escape. 

“What theory is that?”

Instead of answering the question, Zevran continues on his tangent thought. “I care for you a great deal, Alistair, and I would never push you or wish to make you uncomfortable. I have held myself back with great effort, but now I see maybe you did not wish for me to hold back.”

Alistair finds his head shaking without his permission. He’d never want to hold Zevran back. He deserves everything after all the shit he’s been through. He deserves happiness and pleasure and love. 

Zevran’s hand finds Alistair’s cheek, his thumb catching on his stubble. Alistair’s stomach explodes with butterflies. He licks his lips and Zevran’s eyes catch the movement of his tongue. Alistair is frozen, caught by the assassin and there’s no place he’d rather be. 

“I want this. I want you,” Zevran says, his voice just barely audible. “But I will not take that which you do not offer. We have darkspawn to defeat, a country to save, and an archdemon to slay. Those are all important things, but still, I find myself wanting more.”

Alistair feels like he can’t breathe. This is everything he’s ever wanted to hear. His fingers dig into pocket, retrieving the rose he’s been holding onto since the beginning of this journey. 

Alistair hands the rose over, doing his best to ignore the way his face is bright red. “After Lothering, I found this rose. Despite all the destruction this one little rose somehow survived. A little brightness to withstand the darkness. That’s how I feel when I’m with you.”

Zevran stares at the rose for a long moment and Alistair’s stomach sinks. He’s about to put the rose back into his pocket when Zevran finally moves, gently taking the offered gift with such reverence it makes Alistair’s knees weak. He holds it like it’s something precious, something to be revered, the same way he feels about Zevran. 

“This is a beautiful gift, mi amor. Thank you.” When Zevran’s golden eyes meet his, Alistair’s stomach fills with butterflies. “Now, one last time I wish to ask, do you really want this?”

Instead of answering with words, Alistair surprises them both by ducking down and kissing Zevran’s lips. 

[barbex]

@breninarthur, I have no idea what happened to your ask, it has gone poof. But luckily I still have the email. Thank you for the prompt for @dadrunkwriting! Have little zevistair fic.

---

Alistair tries to loosen the stiff collar of his shirt without being too obvious about it. But of course, that thing is like a plank of wood, bleached and starched to the point of not being fabric anymore, and it pokes into his skin. How he hates this, all of this. It's not just the collar, it's the heavy coat, the tight trousers, the layers upon layers of richly decorated, heavy fabric draped all over his body indicating a status he doesn't feel he deserves. 

He catches a raised eyebrow from Anora and drops his hands to his sides. Caught again. They may only be married on paper, but she definitely has her eyes on him. His gaze flees from Anora's glare to the other side of the room and gets caught on quite another set of eyes. 

Amusement twinkles around the corners of Zevran's eyes as he raises his glass towards him. Alistair is about to rush forward, but someone, some noble lady and her annoying wife, step in his way, pinning him in a conversation about landrights and dalish elves. It's a conversation he keeps having, every five minutes or so it seems. As he rattles off the information about the reinstatement of rights and the office for land disputes, open every day of the week except on Sunday, he watches Zevran stroll along the cold buffet.

Occasionally, he picks something off the plates, looking at Alistair as he pops a morsel in his mouth. Then he moves to the desserts, taking a tiny bowl of iced fruit foam. He watches Alistair intensely, turning fully towards him as he dips his tongue into the foam, slowly. 

Alistair stops talking in the middle of a sentence, just staring at Zevran, licking that sinful stuff. He can't take this. "Please excuse me," he mumbles, parting the crowd like an angry bull as he stomps over the dancefloor to Zevran.

"But, your Highness!" someone calls after him. 

He ignores it, he has a mission. "Zevran." He's out of breath, as if he had to cross half of the Deep Roads to reach his love. 

"Yes, my king?" Zevran licks another deep gorge into the frozen cream in the bowl, not hiding his grin.

"Come." Alistair grabs Zevran's arm and pulls him behind him, ignoring the gasps and titterings as he drags him into a servant hallway. 

"You're causing a scandal, my king." Zevran's complaint would be more convincing if he wouldn't laugh like a schoolboy. To see him laugh like this, with ease and joy like he does so rarely, makes Alistair's heart jump in his chest.  

As the door falls closed behind them, Alistair spins Zevran around until his back hits the wall, very aware that Zevran is letting this happen, when he could easily side step Alistair's clumsy movements. "A scandal would have been what I want to do to you right now." 

Smiling at him, Zevran widens his stance and pulls Alistair closer. "I can hardly wait, my dear warden."

Alistair presses his nose into Zevran's neck, breathing him in. "Zev, I missed you so much."

"And I you, Alistair," Zevran says with a soft voice. "I didn't mean to distract you —"

"Yes, you did." Alistair straightens, trying to look intimidating but obviously failing because he just can't stop smiling. 

"Guilty as charged," Zevran whispers against his lips, carefully kissing him. "Seeing you with all these fine people..."

"Terrible people, vipers, all of them."

"Still, they get to be close to you," Zevran says, sliding his fingers into Alistair's hair. "When I can just watch."

"They will never get as close as you, that I can promise." Alistair wraps his arms around Zevran's slender form and lifts him up. "And I want you much closer right now and I'm not waiting anymore." He throws Zevran over his shoulder and kicks the door open to the hallway. 

"I am certain I can walk." Zevran shakes with laughter. 

Alistair huffs as he climbs the stairs up to the royal chambers. "At least for once, I want to feel useful."

"Then, by all means, carry on." Zevran's hands wander over Alistair's back. "I'm looking forward to divest you of these clothes." 

"You and me, my love. You and me."

[crackedeluvian]

hey. zevistair fans. is there any fanart you have posted that youcan provide me . please i just wanna see them be gay

[blarrghe]

Hey hey hey 10 “You never believe me! If I told you right now that I love you, would you even believe me?” forrrrrr zeviolstair OR pavellan

You always send me prompts that I wind up incorporating into Party Camp I hope you're happy

For @dadrunkwriting and Strange Feelings in the Party Camp, some zeviolstair.

--

Violet is laughing, clutching Zevran's arm and laughing through her tears.

"Thank you," she says, wiping one away, gaze lingering on Zevran's still-concerned smile and then flicking over to him. "Maker, this is why I love you."

Alistair catches Zevran blushing, but he backs away and makes room when she says that, as though she hadn't said it to him. Violet grips his arm and pulls him back.

"Love you both," she clarifies, and she doesn't need to look Alistair in the eye for him to believe it, and she knows it, so her gaze snaps back to Zevran, defiant.

"Ah," Zevran hesitates. It's...

Is he allowed to be cute?

Alistair thinks it's cute, how he hesitates.

"I... thank you."

Violet's eyes narrow. Alistair almost laughs. Wrong choice, he thinks, that isn't what you say back when Violet Cousland tells you she loves you. He would know.

"You don't believe me?"

"Mi amor, of course I..." Zev swallows like he's choked on the Antivan phrase he's just spun. He says that all the time, mi amor, and Alistair knows just enough Antivan to know it means 'my love', and more than enough about Zevran to know that it's not really supposed to. Except it does.

He's always meant it, just draws it out and purrs over it and spreads it around, thinks they won't notice if he does it like that, which is precisely why he can't say it now.

"We both do, Zev." It's a rare moment for him, to be able to say something so succinct and just be done with it, but that sounded right. His own voice dips low and quiet, both his and Violet's eyes land on him, and he just lets that hang there. He takes Zev's hand. "You know that."

Zevran pulls his hand back. Alistair's never seen him blush so deeply. "Do I, now?"

He's doing a bad job of playing this off. Violet giggles.

"Mm, well, you ought to." Violet bumps her head into his shoulder.

Alistair crosses his arms and nods in agreement. "Sure, we say it enough, right Vi?"

"I've said it," she agrees, kissing Zev's cheek. "And we had that long talk, me and you."

"Mhm," Alistair nods.

"Aye, you've said it..." Zevran sighs like he's contemplating some difficult lock. "When was this talk?"

Alistair shrugs. "Week ago? Days are running together."

"I told him I loved you still, asked if it was alright."

"I just laughed, I was so relieved," Alistair adds in.

"And then we went on about him, didn't we?"

"Oh, into the night."

Zevran looks between them, skeptical eyebrow raising, defensive smirk forming, something almost like annoyance in his eyes, under it all. Alistair's heart sinks just a little, and he does a similar-but-different kind of not showing it.

"Ha ha, very funny," Zevran retorts, sarcastic and a smidge too defensive and so far off base it pangs in Alistair's sinking heart.

"Didn't I tell you he'd never believe you?" Alistair shoots Violet a raised-eyebrow and a look she'll know what to do with.

She nods, and her smile is the only one of theirs that isn't hiding something. She can get through to both of them like no one else can.

"Zevran, look at me," she says.

He does. She doesn't even say anything, and his eyes well up.

"Maker," Alistair sighs into a real smile and just collects him under an arm, draping his weight across Zev's shoulders and taking in the scent of his hair. "Finally."

"I -- this was not to be about me -- I do not need you two to - to..."

"Love you?" Violet finishes for him, not what he was going to say, Alistair knows, but absolutely what he was going to mean. "We've only tried to tell you half a million times each."

"You have not!" Zevran protests.

He's said it plenty of times, actually, thank you very much, Alistair thinks. Zev's just never heard him.

He said it after the very first time he'd ever buried himself inside him, and fine, he supposes he understands why Zev might think that one didn't count. Supposes he gets why Violet mumbling it out sleepily into his naked chest didn't register, either. He's said it when they're both in his arms by the fire, and maybe those times Zevran sat there obliviously considering himself an accessory to it all, but Violet's the one of the two of them that's really shy with the word. Because Alistair? Alistair says it.

He says it when Zevran cooks and brings him a bowl of something that actually tastes like food. He says it when Zev's got him bent forward and cramping with laughter. He says it when he pulls him up after a hard fight, checking him for injuries before letting the rest of his adrenaline out in a crushing embrace.

"Oh, thank the Maker," he remembers saying breathlessly, pulling Zev up from a muddy pit of a narrowly-missed ogre-stomp, just the other day, "Maker, I love you too much for you to get smushed by some giant stinking foot. Don't scare me like that."

So he shoved him after, didn't make it less true.

"You never believe me," Alistair corrects, jostling him now as well, still pulled tight under his arm. "If I told you right now that I loved you, would you even hear me?"

He can't do it quite like Violet does. Whatever surety she puts in a look, he's never had that. He has a goofy smile, eyes that don't like long, important looks into other eyes much. But he presses a rough kiss into the side of Zevran's face and feels just how hot his cheeks have gotten, and he's pretty sure it gets through.

"Mi amor," Zevran breathes. "I... my apologies."

"So we all agree?" Violet asks hopefully, scooching her way closer on the bench to get wrapped up under Alistair's other arm. She pushes her head into Zev's shoulder again.

"It appears that way," Zevran mumbles, and Alistair tastes the salt of his tears when he kisses his cheek again.

"I love you, Zev," Alistair closes his eyes and whispers it into his soft hair, this time.

"We both do," Violet concludes.

[nesquako]

Dragon age is more alive than ever and i want to share my wisdom in this matters

[marduksstuff]

I REALLY LOVE ROMANCE WITH ALISTAIR

[sinizade]

"You must think I'm royally stupid."

"I think you're royally tough to kill, And utterly gorgeous."

A remake of one of my first Zevran drawings

[dailydadoodles]

Meanwhile, at camp:

[art-bloob]

Been playing origins and inquisition concurrently lmao

[kiivg]

.King’s Council.

[alltears]

dragon age twitter au? dragon age twitter au. THE BISEXUALIFICATION OF ALISTAIR THEIRIN EDITION (and also some blackwall shenanigans)

[tobythewise]

Welcome to DWC! Happy friday! For Zevran/Alistair: “Hey, so about—” “I suddenly have memory loss and don’t remember who you are.”

Thank you for the welcome and for this brilliant prompt!! 🥰💚 I hope you enjoy!

(Written for @dadrunkwriting content ahead: mentions of drinking, a drunk kiss, and getting together)

Alistair wakes up in his tent with a pained groan. His mouth is parched and tastes like dirt, his head is somehow both spinning amd pounding, and his stomach is sour. The smell of booze comes from his breath, making him all the more sick.

By the Maker, what did he do last night?

Oh right. They found themselves at the Pearl, deal with yet another job their fearless leader took on. After that, they somehow found themselves playing cards with a pirate named Isabela and after that there was alcohol. A lot of it.

Alistair hasn’t had many opportunities to get drunk, not while living in Redcliffe and certainly not while studying at the Chantry. So for the first time, he accepted every glass put in front of him. Looking back, he really should have stopped after two, but once he started it felt like a cop out to stop. If Wynne could handle a few drinks, surely he should be able to as well!

That was his line of thinking anyway.

Now? Now Alistair promises himself to never drink again. He’s sticking to water going forward.

Alistair smacks his lips, realizing the last time he woke up with his mouth tasting this vile was his Joining. Great, now he’s going to start associating alcohol with Darkspawn blood.

Covering his face with his hands, Alistair groans long and low. Just then, the flap of his tent folds open, letting sunshine through.

“Close that,” he grumbles without looking up. “Too early. Too bright.”

A warm chuckle makes him part his fingers, finding Zevran carefully closing the tent flap behind himself. Alistair’s stomach does a flip only this time it’s followed by a warm tingly feeling instead of the urge to throw up.

“Ah, I had a feeling you would be feeling a bit rough this morning, my friend. I’ve brought you cold water to help.”

Without saying a single word, Alistair reaches out and takes the water skin from him. Their fingers brush and a shiver runs through him. There’s something nagging him at the back of his mind, something that happened last night.

It must not have been that important if he can’t think of it.

Alistair takes a long swing of water, thankful at the way to washes away the gross taste in his mouth. He looks over at Zevran, finding him staring. Alistair feels himself flushing, something he does often when he’s around Zevran.

And of course because he’s him, the attention makes him panic. Alistair takes a large swig, the water shooting down the wrong pipe and suddenly he’s choking on water, coughing it back up while trying not to spit any water onto Zevran.

With dexterity and smoothness that Alistair is jealous of, Zevran slides further into the tent, kneeling next to him. His hand slides across Alistair’s back, patting him a few times.

By the Maker, the blushing is back and it’s even worse now that he’s so close.

Alistair turns his head, finding himself almost nose to nose with Zevran. This close, he can make out the little golden specks in his brown eyes. He’s so close it would be so easy to….

Oh. Oh no. Holy shit. Oh god.

Alistair’s eyes widen as he realizes what he couldn’t remember about the night before. He was so drunk he could barely walk which meant Zevran had to practically carry him here. While the assassin was helping him into his bedroll, Alistair pulls him down into a sloppy, drunk kiss.

They kissed.

He kissed Zevran.

Alistair can tell the moment Zevran notices that he remembers. His eyes grow soft and he puts on an easy smile.

“Hey,” Zevran starts to say, “so about—“

Alistair does the most mature thing he can think to do in this moment. He shoves Zevran back, falls back into his bedroll, and pulls it over his face.

“I suddenly have memory loss! I don’t remember who you are!”

There’s a long moment of silence. It goes on so long that Alistair is half convinced that the man he’s grown to have a giant, embarrassing crush on has left his tent. He just wants to hide and pretend none of this has happened because he’s not sure he’ll survive the teasing this situation is going to leave him with.

“If you wish to play it this way, I am not one to push,” Zevran finally says, his voice surprisingly soft. “In my experience, drunk lips tell what one is too scared to share while sober. If that’s not the case, consider this conversation to have never happened.”

Alistair swallows around the lump in his throat. It would be so easy to let it go, to pretend it was all a drinker mistake. But for once, he wants to be brave. He wants to take a leap. Zevran is worth that.

Pulling the blanket down so only his eyes are showing, he stares up into Zevran’s eyes. “And if my drunk lips were telling the truth?”

Zevran’s lips curls into an easy smile. “Then I would ask you to never kiss me while drunk again.” Before Alistair can apologize or throw himself from the tent in embarrassment and rejection, Zevran continues. “When our lips meet, I want all of your wits about you. I want you to experience our kiss fully. I want your sober lips to talk to me, my warden.”

Alistair might not remember much about their first kiss but their second kiss? He commits it to memory, completely sober.

[barbex]

maybe alistair and someone from the intimate romance prompt: "flirting with your lover from across the room"? :)

Thank you for this prompt for @dadrunkwriting.

It was time for a little zevistair tonight:

---

Alistair tries to loosen the stiff collar of his shirt without being too obvious about it. But of course, the thing is like a plank of wood, bleached and starched to the point of not being fabric anymore, and it pokes into his skin. How he hates this. It's not just the collar, it's the heavy coat, the tight trousers, the layers upon layers of richly decorated, heavy fabric draped all over his body. 

He catches a raised eyebrow from Anora and drops his hands to his sides. Caught like an unruly child. They may only be married on paper, but she definitely has him under control, like a real wife. His gaze flees from Anora's glare to the other side of the room and gets caught on quite another set of eyes. 

Amusement twinkles in Zevran's eyes as he raises his glass towards him. Alistair is about to rush forward, but someone, some noble lady and her annoying wife, step in his way, pinning him in a conversation about landrights and dalish elves. It's a conversation he keeps having, every five minutes or so it seems. As he rattles off the information about the office for land disputes, open every day of the week except on Sunday, he watches Zevran stroll along the cold buffet.

Occasionally, he picks something off the plates, looking at Alistair as he pops some morsel in his mouth. Then he moves to the desserts, taking a tiny bowl of iced fruit foam. He watches Alistiar intensely, turning fully towards him as he dips his tongue into the foam, slowly. 

Alistair stops talking in the middle of a sentence, just staring at Zevran, licking that sinful stuff. He can't take this.

"Please excuse me," he mumbles, parting the crowd like an angry bull as he stomps over the dancefloor to Zevran.

"But, your Highness!" someone calls after him. 

He ignores it, he has a mission. "Zevran." He's out of breath, as if he had to cross half of the Deep Roads to reach his love. 

"Yes, my king?" Zevran licks another deep gorge into the frozen cream in the bowl, not hiding his grin.

"Come." Alistair grabs Zevran's arm and pulls him behind him, ignoring the gasps and titterings as he drags him into a servant hallway. 

"You're causing a scandal, my warden."

As the door falls closed behind them, Alistair spins Zevran around until his back hits the wall, very aware that Zevran is letting this happen. "A scandal would have been what I want to do to you right now." 

Smiling at him, Zevran widens his stance and pulls Alistair closer. "I can hardly wait, my dear warden."

Alistair presses his know into Zevran's neck, breathing him in. "Zev, I missed you so much."

"And I you, Alistair," Zevran says with a soft voice. "I didn't mean to distract you —"

"Yes, you did." Alistair straightens, trying to look intimidating but obviously failing because he just can't stop smiling. 

"Guilty as charged," Zevran whispers against his lips, carefully kissing him. "Seeing you with all these fine people..."

"Terrible people, vipers, all of them."

"Still, they get to be close to you," Zevran says, "when I can just watch."

Alistair wraps his arms around Zevran's slender form and lifts him up. "I want you as close as possible and I'm not waiting anymore." He shoves Zevran over his shoulder and walks along the hallway. 

"I am certain I can walk." 

Alistair huffs. "At least for once, I want to feel useful."

"Then, by all means, carry on. I'm looking forward to divest you of these clothes." 

"You and me, my love. You and me."

[milton-chamberlain]

Finally I finished this poster! I really wanted to do my AU in the daa style, I was damn tired:D

[blarrghe]

Strange Feelings in the Party Camp

Ch. 11: All Things End

Oh my God I finally finished it.

Rating: M | Category: M/M/F | Words: 34,880  | Chapters: 11/11

Summary: Alistair is in love with Violet. Violet is sleeping with Zevran. Zevran is too good a friend to Alistair. Violet is too good a friend to Zevran. And can love even really be on the table, when you're all probably going to die?

Chapter Snippet:

It starts in a bed in Denerim. 

Morrigan leans over him, candlelight shining in her raven hair. 

But that is not the important bed. 

The night after they saved Anora, Alistair finds himself in a bed in Denerim. With Violet, with Zevran, with relief clouding his judgement. 

He would do anything, anything, just to keep them. 

Daff list: @warpedlegacy@rakshadow @rosella-writes @effelants @bluewren @breninarthur @ar-lath-ma-cully @dreadfutures @ir0n-angel @inquisimer @crackinglamb @theluckywizard @nirikeehan @oxygenforthewicked-art @exalted-dawn-drabbles @melisusthewee @agentkatie