#tini surana

[rainydaygt]

POST THIS CAT WHEN THEY LEAST EXPECT IT

MIAUUU

[salsedinepicta]

OC & Symbolism

Details of the various sections under the read more ✨

[ninapedia]

wait wait another thing i really like about the warden is that depending how you play the games is your warden can be besties with some of the most powerful people in Thedas. like they got titles like the king of ferelden, the divine, the arishock

and even though our little guy is the Hero of Ferelden they don’t really like.. lead nations or religions or even the wardens overall, they’re just little guys like

[calico-callista]

Circle mage babies

[druckkugelschreiber]

Thinking about Nydhena who reaches up to Loghain‘s chest but whenever someone’s a bitch about Loghain being there with her, she absolutely squares up to tear whoever dares insult her man a new one

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

Next batch! :)

(top right to bottom left: Ari Adaar, Lilian Hawke, Neira Surana, Adriel)

[contreparry]

Hi Ann! How about "[grabbing wrist, pulling person behind them, sensing danger]" from couple prompts? Happy writing!

Absolutely! Here's some Zevran and Surana corporate espionage!AU for @dadrunkwriting

"The weather is as horrendous as I feared it would be," Zevran complained as they strolled through the park. It was snowing. It was a sprinkle of snow, truth be told, a light dusting of tiny snowflakes that melted away the moment they touched the earth. But the sky was overcast, the air was chilly, and his breath emerged from his mouth like a dragon's steam whenever he spoke, so Zevran felt justified in declaring that the weather was bad.

His companion scoffed and rolled his eyes. They were pretty eyes, dark as the night and prone to sparkling with a quiet humor that Zevran was learning to interpret. That particular eye roll and glint was one of born from exasperated amusement. Bran's eyerolls were a language of their own, and Zevran enjoyed puzzling them out. He especially enjoyed basking in the knowledge that Bran's annoyed eyerolls were seldom directed at him, and the fond ones were growing more and more frequent.

It was nice to have made a new friend. His time in Amaranthine would be miserable without Bran's companionship. They made an odd pair as they walked side by side in the park, him in his wool overcoat and Bran in his tattered hooded sweatshirt and scuffed boots. But as they walked Bran pointed out different study spots he frequented ("That diner has good breakfast and won't kick you out after an hour."), and Zevran teased him about his workaholic tendencies (as if he was one to judge.) It was... nice. Simply nice! Zevran couldn't remember the last time his conversations were so simple.

Zevran only wished that they met in better circumstances- or that this friendship wasn't built on a sand foundation. Zevran would be leaving soon enough, just as soon as he gathered the information his client required and stole Surana's research. Bran's research.

This was why their friendship wasn't real- at least, it shouldn't be. But Bran was so- Zevran chanced a sidelong glance at his companion, his eyes tracing that sharp profile and lingering on his small smile as little snowflakes peppered his black hair and melted into tiny water droplets that clung to the strands like jewels. There was something there, something fascinating about the way those steel piercings all along Bran's ears mingled with the faint smell of paper that followed him wherever he went. He was acerbic and quiet and incredibly patient when he wanted to be. There was a terrible kindness to him, fierce and warm and painful-

A thin, strong hand wrapped around his wrist and he was yanked back suddenly, and Zevran, surprised, followed the momentum until he was standing somewhat behind Bran's shoulder. A moment later a cyclist crossed their path, mere inches from colliding where Zevran was walking.

"Head in the clouds, Zevran?" Bran asked, his voice dry even as his eyes sparkled with that exasperated fondness that made Zevran's heart ache. Don't like me, don't see me, you can't you can't you can't-

"... yes. Your stormy, gloomy clouds," Zevran replied, the remark masking the rapid beating of his heart. Bran's hand was warm around his wrist, and he didn't let go as he pulled Zevran back to his side and continued their walk.

"Poor, delicate Antivans," Bran sighed, and his small smile was approaching a grin. "I'll find you a patch of sun. Or at least someplace warm so we can wait out the snowflakes."

"And some decent food, I trust?" Zevran asked, praying to whatever god was listening that Bran couldn't feel his racing pulse under his fingertips. Oh, how he wished that they were truly friends with no secrets between them, so that he could fall back into this moment without reservations or scheming or anything beyond the pure pleasure of enjoying Bran Surana's company! But they weren't, and so Zevran hid behind jokes and flirtation and hoped that Bran wouldn't notice the artifice and tear it all down with his brutal consideration.

"Of course," Bran said. "But only because I like you."

[hiddenbeks]

ocs as types of suffering + tragic love archetypes

tagged by @hibernationsuit to do a couple quizzes for some ocs, thank u red!!

tagging @narrayya @grimhygge @famewolf @abetterbeginning to do one or both of the quizzes if u want to, no pressure! suffering quiz here, tragic love quiz here <3

did the first quiz for my da girls:

ANDRALE MAHARIEL - yearning

"the pain in your chest bubbles knowing that what you want may never be yours. You're lost in a fantasy world, or consumed by what you wish you were or had as opposed to what you do. it's hard to appreciate what's around you when you're appreciating the hope of what could be instead."

yknow i often consider andrale my most well adjusted oc. she had a relatively stable childhood with friends and loving family. and despite developing a resentment of the world that hates her people as she grows older and desiring a world where things are different she's still mostly satisfied with her life? but this all changes after she becomes a warden. the first months are especially difficult as she's still in denial about her fate and the fact that she's never going back to her old life and indeed yearns for all that she has lost. she eventually learns to live again and enjoy her new life as best she can but she will always carry that sadness and regret and longing with her i think. you may see her happy and content one moment and the next she's staring blankly at nothing, lost in her memories of simpler days.

FRIDA HAWKE - self inadequacy

"you crack under the weight of your own perceived inability. how can you be enough for anyone else when you're just barely enough for yourself? insecurity causes you to have little backbone, and so you fail to reach your full potential when it comes to what you're best at. you sabotage opportunities with fear you'll fail before you've begun. it hurts to never feel like your best is enough, but setting your standards too high or too low ensures it."

i was fully expecting to get 'the giver' as a result for frida but this is accurate too! she never believes she is enough as a daughter or big sister or stand-in parent to the twins or champion or. anything. poor gal believes it's her job to carry the weight of the world and blames herself for not being or doing enough when she inevitably fails. oof

CELYN SURANA - loneliness

"your heart feels full of the connection you feel you lack. no matter how many people are around, strangers or not... someone is missing. you don't know who, what, or if you'll ever find them. you're unsure if there's a person out there who'll really satisfy your life, so really what's the point of continuing to look?"

hmm! celyn was indeed lonely at the circle save for jowan but i have to wonder if it was her own doing. though to be fair i doubt the circle fosters an environment supportive of making friends and forming genuine connections. and obviously the fact that it's partly her own doing doesn't make it any less painful. anyway. celyn put friendships aside in favor of studying and being The Very Best, hoping that advancement in the circle would bring her at least a tiny bit of autonomy and respect. this all leads to a hopeless loop of "i'm lonely and want friends" "don't know how to make friends so i won't even try". she slowly gets better after leaving the circle when andrale and friends coax/force her out of her shell because they need to work togetheeerrr. there's no team-building exercise quite like the blight and the impending end of the world am i right haha

anyway next up some tragic love:

ISABEAU MONET - caníbales; devourer

"love's a knife to skin to you, a vein to woven muscle, blood puddle before you. you listened to all the promises of a stranger's relief and feel the drain of a shower head running it all down again. you committed another murder; kissed and bruised skin with a clench to a quivering wrist and went home in the deafening quiet of a taxi. there's mold covered rage within you. if to take a heart home with you, you'd bite your way through muscle and ribcage first. pleasure comes, but there will be no devouring past it. there is fear in settling down and being seen. there is a glass screen between these bodies and you. relax your tight jaw and feel the real canine fear beneath that scabbed up cavity. the sacrifice of opening up is needed if to be loved as you deeply wish inside. desire doesn't discriminate between hands and spoken word. why should you?"

wowie!! i rarely get serious about isabeau because she's mostly a fun and sexy menace and has convinced even me that that's all there is to her but like. i shouldn't forget that she too is damaged underneath it all 😔 what twenty years of emotional neglect and lack of support from parents does to a gal...

[fleshwerks]

it's mr. Lea Surana day! all day long!

there was that one time when alistair theirin...

a king mr lea surana made through sheer willpower, resourcefulness, brutal suppression and execution of any who would have enough power and will to contest this machination, a king out of an unvalidated, bastard boy with no reigning experience or education, whose only claim to the throne was 'looks a lot like cailan theirin'. and alistair theirin, king of ferelden, never really got along with lea surana. alistair was a hypocrite with a big mout h and little courage to seize the day, and lea surana was a sheltered fucking librarian slash procurer of illicit goods for the rest of the mages cooped up in there, a young man who had managed to avoid being made tranquil because he was, unbeknownst to him, something of a pet project to the first enchanter irving. and being an intense 19-year-old guy from a closed society, the first thing he thought of alistair when he saw him was: 'oh andraste, he's hot'. until alistair opened his mouth, of course, and it's hard to remain civil with someone who is straight, obnoxious, and also the object of your desire and infatuation.

anyway. king alistair forgot who paved his way to the throne with bones for cobblestones and blood and fingernails for mortar, and rebuffed lea surana, who by that time had holed up in soldier's peak, having it turned into a laboratory well supplied, yet isolated and near unassailable, a source of mystery, fascination, and one of ill repute. in the guts of the 'soldier', as people call it, the heretic mage, yellow prince, wraith of ferelden, had consolidated brilliant minds and rare resources to figure out how to reach the Maker himself, demand answers from him, and if answers don't satisfy, then tear god from his throne and take his place. not to rule, but to remove god from the world, enjoy the peace of being an absent god, floating in time and space long after the universe had grown cold, dark, and devoid of anything but void and dense dead stars. whilst, of course, leaving the living world to blossom and live out its existence the way it chooses, because lea surana is ruthless, ambitious, and will delete everything that's not wise enough to stay out of his way, but the world is very beautiful, and it needs no meddling god, much like a boy becoming adult does not need a father to dominate him and tell him how to live. good, bad, the worst, it's what attracted this envy demon to the waking world in the first place, what made it see a dead elven newborn float down the river to the ocean in its tiny little funerary vessel, and decide to take its form, like many demons who haunted clan surana had done before. 'mythal has judged the dead, and releases them not to the afterlife just yet'. many dead washed back to the shore of the surana living grounds after having died and been given to the river. all of them changelings, gifts of mythal, rejected by death.

ANYWAY. king alistair theirin forgot who made him, who put that fancy circlet of gold upon his brow, and ferelden was this close to imploding into another civil war between the king and the yellow prince holed up in soldier, with all of amaranthine to supply defensive forces and to feed them too. except it didn't happen. not yet.

so lea surana plucked maggots from carrion and ate them, and spat out a black fly, who landed on his hand and listened closely, when lea surana told him to 'go remind the king how easily he can be unmade'. and it did. right in through the ear canal, a bite down, and ten minutes later the king was on the floor. three weeks of edge of consciousness and a bad infection in that ear. he never regained hearing in that ear again. the black fly returned to lea surana, and guard scurrying suspiciously tensely, albeit no alarm was sounded, told lea surana everything he needed to know.

and then he ate that fly because bugs are good protein. like a snack. and left denerim, protected by the fear of those who still saw him as one of the king's court, and avoided by those who had an idea of what he'd done, but knew better than to get in his way. he's not a malicious man. just stay out of his way, because he has a meeting with god to prepare for.

peace in ferelden lasted another year until alistair finally stripped the lands of amaranthine from lea surana in absentia, and took his troops to siege the soldier's peak for two more years until lea surana disappeared, and when the king's troops overran the castle, they found hell inside, and no soul in it. just... gone. all of them.

[rainydaygt]

More Alistair and tiny Fox (surana) because i. hhhhhhg

[inquisimer]

find the word tag game

tagged by @shivunin to find the words risk, swing, and soft in my WIPs and post the section where they appear. Thank you friend! :3 These are such fun tag games and I always end up distracted re-reading what I've already written lol.

Tagging forward to: @roguelioness | @fadedsweater | @rosella-writes | @plisuu | and @rowanisawriter to find the words flushed, written, and secured

Risk - from my Surana Lavellan backstory fic for Neria

“It is beyond my control now,” he demurred. Such surrender chafed, but already the Wardens had taught him the cost of bucking the status quo. He was not ready to risk more lives for upsetting it. Well—almost ready. He laid one gloved hand on the exit and fixed Greagoir with a cunning look over his shoulder. “Perhaps I might drop by on occasion, Knight Commander. She is not my charge, per se, but her well-being could factor into other decisions, without anyone the wiser.”

Swing - from a oneshot that I started for Zevwarden week and never finished, ft. Ariya Tabris

When they finally reached the gate, Ariya sprang. She dropped from her ledge right onto the half-rotted arch, legs swinging right over the handle they’d been about to grasp. “What—“ “Who—“ They followed the line of her leggings up to her face, confusion quickly melting into anger. It only intensified as they found her nonchalantly flicking dirt from her fingernails with a throwing knife. “Get lost, elf,” one of them spat. “We have business here tonight.” “No you don’t.”

Soft - from my post-DAO Mahariel fic

She elbowed him in the stomach and scowled, but without any bite. In return he brushed a soft kiss at her crown, just behind her ear, and she sighed, leaning into his side. “It would be so much easier if things were like this.” “Things are like this.” Alistair pulled away just far enough to cock an eyebrow at her. “Or do I not seem real to you? I was mostly joking about your head but—“ His foolish rambling made her heart ache. Whatever spirit haunted her tonight, they were doing an excellent job. She pulled him down and silenced him with a kiss, a tiny oomf! as their lips met before he melted into her. His hands stroked light, soothing touches up and down her spine.

[salsedinepicta]

🎯 Unhinged Character Bingo 🎯

Tagged by @greypetrel - thank you, this was really fun and psychologically interesting 👀💙

🌸 Malva Surana

"Now that I am free to be myself, who am I?" (M. Oliver)

The First Blorbo TM - I'll always have a soft spot for Malva and her 'yeah sure I grew up in a Circle and adapted so well out of sheer spite and spirit of survival that now I'm not even sure of who am I beside the story people tell about me, but I'm fine :)' thing.

🏹 Gwydion/Gideon Hawke

"Why greatness? Why is goodness not enough?" (The Green Knight)

The caretaker, the lighthouse, the steadfast and Responsible Sibling that really, really wants to be selfish and self-serving at least once. Most definitely a "it's rotten work / not to me, not if it's you" kind of person. Also the most stable and well adjusted of the group -they have to be.

(why the double name: people constantly misheard and mispronounced 'Gwydion'. Later, Varric ended up popularizing the name 'Gideon' because it means 'great warrior' and that's just perfect for the hero of the story. Gwydion means 'born from trees' and they actually prefer it, but it doesn't matter - the narrative is stronger.

Do I have a thing for identity issues and names? Maybe.)

🌙 Maren Hawke

"Look how we bleed from all this wanting" (A. A. Diaka)

(I mean, they both end up orphaned - does that count as having 'mommy/daddy issues'? These issues seem quite understandable to me idk)

Political animal & repressed mage - Bethany used to accidentally light things on fire, so she obviously needed more guidance and attention. Maren used to freeze ponds, summon tiny wisps, occasionally move water, and have strange dreams. All things that can be safely hidden away while she waits for her moment in the sun. Pretty much a constant waiting and wanting more.

(tag and template under the read more)

Tag time! I don't know many people with OCs, but @oketipoketifafifurn wrote whole books with them!! So yeah, hello Roby!

And If YOU, random reader, want to do this, just steal from me and say that I tagged you ✨

Template:

[luddlestons]

I designed some Suranas!

Adalia, younger sister, lives in Lothering, recently reunited with her brother and ready to help out on this stopping the Blight business. Tiny and very sweet, not much of a fighter but always willing to assist where she can. Not bad with a bow, too!

Heli is a Circle mage, best friend of Jowan and pain in George Amell's ass (affectionate). He is a scoundrel who is probably better suited to being a rogue, mostly a support mage in combat, lets George & Will do the heavy lifting.

They're for the purposes of me sticking way more characters into everything, and having a couple extra Wardens around!

[leggywillow]

WIP Ask Meme

I was tagged by @feralkwe and @theluckywizard a while back. I’m not a very prolific writer and tend to be kinda hyperfocused when I do latch onto an idea, so I don’t have a ton of different ones. The titles themselves are also WIPs because most of them are way too wordy 😩

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

The Path of Most Resistance - Part 3 of my Warden Surana-centric Dragon Age fic, covering the aftermath of the Chantry explosion

In Search of Safe Harbors - Part 4 of my Warden-centric DA fic, to cover a tiny part of the Mage-Templar War. This and Part 5 are just collections of ideas at this point.

The Dawn Long Overdue - Part 5 of my Warden-centric DA fic. This one will start to cover Inquisition.

Pretty Corpses - Baldur’s Gate 3 Dark Urge fic

He Thought Her Unsinkable - DA Hawke/Alistair fic

Uuuuhhhhhhh tagging um anybody who sees this, gotcha.

[vigilskeep]

Had a dream about dragon age awakening, funnily enough about a female surana. There were also tiny sharks but the dragon age part was the most important and I 100% blame it on reading your blog before going to sleep 💯💯💯

minerva is a somniari #confirmed

[wild-houseplant]

WIP Wednesday (??)

No clue what day it is. This is my life now.

Anyway, in light of my perpetual obliviousness, I thought I’d share a snippet of another AU I’ve been fiddle-faddling around with (though this one’s an in-Thedas one) and didn’t get too far on. If you’ve got ideas to breathe a bit of plot into the poor bastard, I’m all ears, because I think it could go somewhere if only it had more to prop it up than slice-of-life stuff.

The premise: The Fifth Blight is over. Good King Alistair, that great Dissolver of the Fereldan Circle and Recycler of the Mages into Public Servants, has started his rule with the promise of better conditions for Alienage residents (via magic, of course), in memory of the late Warden Surana. Under the hawklike surveillance from angry, traumatised Templars, the mages are worked to the bone and kept from poverty only by their self-reliance. They are still quite frowned-upon by regular townsfolk, which doesn’t help matters.

Surana freed Zevran instead of recruiting him post-ambush, and he has been eking out a solitary, fearful life in the Denerim Alienage ever since. And Vin? She’s Denerim’s friendly, overworked fire safety mage, drowning in paperwork and Templar threats. Zevran’s the man blocking the door of the room she needs to inspect for fire hazards.

I’ll stick the snippet under the cut here so it doesn’t get too long, but for now I’d like to thank @siriskulksnerding and @fade-and-loathing-in-thedas for the WIP tags and would like, in turn, to tag you both back and also drag @badartxd​ (II think you might have also tagged me but way back?) @heniareth , @icy-warden, and @atypicalacademic into the madness, if you’re keen for it. I always, always need more about the beloveds!

-

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Zevran had paused in cleaning his belt long before the knocking started. The house was alive, if only out of spite, and every decrepit bone of it was perpetually ready with a complaint. While boots were still pressing groans out of the floorboards thirty paces away, the pommel of his restless knife was already digging into his hand.

Not a Crow. No guild member would slop about like a civilian, intentionally or unintentionally. The shame of it! 

Ah, but then Zevran was a deserter, and thus unworthy of a proper assassination. A knife to the gut delivered by a leadfoot who bashed the gizzards out of doors would be well deserved. 

Another knock, and a warm, smoky voice announced itself as the Fire Warden.

Hah. Smoky.

By the time a third round of knocking came, he was reluctantly making his way to the door-- and apparently too distracted to notice the oiled cloth on the floor that was slipping his foot out from underneath him--

§

Vin felt the thud more than she heard it. The floorboards had lifted like tongues under her feet, only to settle back down into place before she could be swallowed up.

She knocked a fourth time.

“I heard that noise in there,” Vin called through the tiny crack in the doorframe. 

Silence.

“Oh, Maker’s--” she rapped the door jamb again. “Come on, please don’t be like this. This is the fourth time I’ve tried to do a fire safety inspection and the person inside's pretended to be dead or comatose.”

When she made to knock again, the door opened enough to reveal a single, amber eye glaring out at her. 

She scoffed. "Well, that's a start, at least."

-

-

For visual reference, if needed, Vin. Tousle-haired and perpetually sunburnt.

[id: In picrew in cartoon style, there is a pale non-binary person with medium to light brown hair that is short and wavy. Her face is oval-shaped and she is sunburnt in the top half of her face. Her eyes are blue and she is smiling. She is wearing a white button-up shirt and a black robe that is open at the front. In the background is the non-binary colours in stripes, and there are white stars throughout. The picrew artist is grgikau and their logo is beside the person’s chin. end id.]