#delilah surana

[anatidae-dragonage]

Heyyyyy it's Friday!! How abouttttt f!Trevelyan/f!Surana for ‘i do not expect my fingers to graze the sky.’ from the Sappho prompts?? Happy new year and happy writing!

Thank you for the prompt and the opportunity to write my beloved OCs! This is especially fun because in my longfic for these two, Sappho exists in-universe for the express purpose of Surana introducing Trevelyan to it. 😌 Not pertinent here though! So much younger than I've ever shared for them! Babies! (They're 18.)

Word Count: 1099

Rating: G

Pairing: Mag Trevelyan/Delilah Surana

@dadrunkwriting

For as long as she’d allow herself to remember, the Circle’s gardens had been Magdalena’s favorite place. Flowering bushes made a low maze of the courtyard, and vines that crept up fence posts and trellises bloomed purple and white in the spring. Even in the winter, the frozen birdbath and empty cobblestone paths had a stark beauty to them. Alone on a bench, or in the shade of an ornamental tree when the heat was stifling, she’d read a book or simply sit, watching the sky. 

For all Surana complained of them on the afternoons she joined her, she seemed taken by the gardens too. 

(“Have you ever seen a bird in that bird bath?” she would ask, and Mag would pause to think before answering,

“No. They must have learned to stay away from the apprentices.”

Surana would inevitably shake her head, and say something about clipped wings and cages, and Mag would inevitably tell her that she’d feel better if she stopped searching for the gray side of everything silver. Inevitably too though, once they lapsed into silence, Mag would look up from her page to see Surana watching the sky. Not smiling, maybe, but something close. It always made her heart skip a beat, and she’d look back down quickly, afraid to be caught staring. Afraid that if Surana thought to stop and think about the moment, it, too, would dim.)

Maybe there was something inherent in a Circle mage that made them look to the sky. For most of her life, Mag had wondered if the way the clouds caught and spun over Ostwick was unique, or if the thought was the product of isolation and daydreaming. She’d asked Surana once. Her smile had been wry.

“There wasn’t much space back at Kinloch for craning our heads out windows.”

In the quieter hours, though, Mag heard about the fog that had blanketed the lake and the constellations viewed through paned glass, and the stormy skies on her long journey from Ferelden to here. Surana watched. It was one of the things she did most. 

Sometimes in the garden they did see birds, not flirting about in the birdbaths, but dipping in the sky overhead. Surana liked the way that eagles circled and soared. Mag liked the way the starlings danced. Today was a warm day, one of the firsts of spring, and they weren’t the only ones in the gardens. A senior enchanter painted nearby, and every so often a fit of giggles seized a table of apprentices across the yard. 

“You’re going to give yourself a headache like that,” Surana warned her. She was reclined on the bench, long hair splayed over the edge, but Mag felt her eyes boring into her more than the sky. Mag, on the other hand, sat straight with her head craned back. Songbirds were hopping between high-up parapets, and every now and then she could hear their agitated chirps as they fought over nesting spots and split twigs. 

“I don’t mind,” she said. 

“Magdalena—“ 

Mag was too distracted to realize that Surana was reaching for her until it was too late, and the squeak she gave and the oof Surana let out when Mag’s elbow hit her stomach caused a sudden silence from the apprentice table. Mag now lay stiffly against Surana’s chest, and for a moment Surana held her tight, frozen and silent. After a beat, Surana laughed, grip relaxing, and Mag squirmed free. She fixed her with a halfhearted dirty look. 

Surana sat up too. 

“Let’s at least walk.” 

Mag paused. 

“Fine.”

The gardens were longer than they were wide—a courtyard caged by the Circle’s buildings—so a full loop around took mere minutes even at a leisurely pace. Mag gave up on watching the birds and looked to the shrubbery instead. Tiny green buds were forming at the tips of bare branches, and the waxy-leaved evergreens were looking brighter. 

Life went on—circles, cycles. Soon the birds at the parapets would have hatchlings. She would watch them learn to fly with patchy wings. Flowers would bloom again. Leaves would broaden and turn towards the sky. This would be Surana’s first spring in Ostwick, she realized. She’d arrived in the stormy first month of summer the year prior.

“Here,” Surana said quietly when they got to the far end of the ellipse. She’d stopped Mag with a hand at her elbow, and for a moment they hovered in the middle of the path. “Sit.” 

“Sit?” She looked around, but she’d been this way a hundred times and nothing had materialized.

“On the ground,” Surana prompted, sinking slowly downward, one hand still on Mag’s arm. Uncertain, Mag let herself follow. On the cobblestone, they sat cross-legged. Surana’s eyes were softer than they often were, but they still had that sharp sort of glitter. “Now lay back.”

“Lay—“

“Come on,” she insisted, losing what little patience she possessed, and awkwardly, Mag began to lower herself to the stone. She saw Surana roll her eyes from the corner of hers, then felt two strong hands under her shoulders. Surana hauled Mag onto her lap, where she lay stiff and uncertain. She could feel Surana’s body shift when she sighed. “Relax,” she said. “And look at the sky.”

Mag closed her eyes and drew a breath. Slowly, she pushed the tension from her muscles, the awareness of her body on the stone from her back, and the presence of her head on Surana’s thigh from her mind. When she opened them again on her exhale, she could see the sky. From the place and angle where they sat, it was open, the walls and towers of the Circle out of view, and Mag’s breath caught unexpectedly in her throat. 

Surana let her sit for a long moment, body lax beneath her, before she said,

“Nice, yeah?”

A blank cerulean canvas, not a cloud nor cobblestone in sight.

“Nice,” she agreed, afraid to say anything else. For a moment Surana’s hand cut across her vision, fingers streaking along the sky like they were tracing the path of some invisible bird before falling back to her side. 

They lapsed into silence. Far from the other end of the courtyard, Mag heard the distant shrieks of apprentice laughter. There was an angry chirping from songbirds far above, and the stir of still barren branches in the slight breeze.

She looked at Surana's face. She was staring up at the sky, smiling. She must have felt Mag’s gaze, because her eyes dropped but her grin didn’t. Mag’s heart skipped a beat anyway. She repeated,

“It’s nice.”

[thievinghippo]

this is a placeholder post. just need to add some tags while I wait to make proper posts about these characters or ships!

(feel free to ignore!)

[fandomn00blr]

@funkypoacher​ look! I did the thing! (we’re all sick and cold and snuggled up on the couch for the evening so why not play with some virtual faces?)

Solona Amell (she doesn’t need no freakin’ staff when she spends most of her time as a spider)

Neria Surana

Delilah Howe (as requested)

Ser Agatha

and Nesinril Lavellan!

Picrew link: https://picrew.me/image_maker/1347038

[vigilskeep]

how did minerva feel about oghren naming his kid after her?

she was honestly very touched. leaving that kind of legacy is not something mages often get to expect and i don’t think it was a gesture she would anticipate at all, so one of her most genuine reactions

kind of funny for this random surfacer dwarf child to have a wealthy powerful hero of ferelden blood mage godmother who’d do anything for it. if i’m feeling like a sap i’d like to think if felsi came all the way to the vigil to yell at oghren she and the kid might get a place in amaranthine and thus the kid could grow up with baby surana and also delilah’s howeling. howelet? what do you call a baby howe

[gayhawkelatehomicide]

Dog Post

So my noodle associate consumed one (1) full bottle of soju and started coming up with dog names, so here are my various Dragon Age protagonists' dogs.

Buppies under the cut for length

Wardens

Aridhel Mahariel (serious, stressed, blunt) - Titanius, the most adorable fuck-up of an animal. He has a dignified name because you call him and he trips over his own paws and flops on the floor in his enthusiasm to come receive scratchies. He's so big and so dumb and so sweet. Full blooded mabari but got more Big genes than smart ones.

Saffron Cousland (earnest, noble, cautiously optimistic) - Teryn, the only point of consistent stability in her world. Originally a gift from Rendon Howe, he saves Saffron's life on a couple of occasions, much to said asshole's distress.

Theo Amell (ambitious, daring, prickly) - Hammer, a difficult creature to control, who immediately rolls over and does whatever Morrigan wants, just like his master.

Renan Tabris (ruthless, suspicious, protective) - Teacup, the incredibly polite and well-trained war dog. Probably the only thing in Renan's life that she never has to fight.

Valda Aeducan (honorable, loyal, politically traumatized) - Small Chip, an unapologetically affectionate sweetheart who loves everyone and gives Valda the first uncomplicated physical touch in her whole life up to that point.

Emmaera Surana (strange, cerebral, difficult) - Arnold, the most relaxed dog in Ferelden. Truly, this fella is the only dog who can be within 15 feet of Mae without freaking out because there's Something Wrong With Her and animals can sense it. Hint: it's the 6+ spirits in her head.

Tery Mahariel (tough, laconic, safe) - On'dhar, literally "good dog" in Elvhen, the most tenacious boy in the world. He's the type of dog who gets An Idea in his head and will NOT be dissuaded. Sad thing, apology in advance: he's how Morrigan finds out Tery is dead, because he hunts Morrigan down and she knows he would never leave Tery.

Hawkes

Iris Hawke (kind, ruthless, cunning) - Couscous, the half-Mabari half-wolfhound. He's goofy and playful but also fuckin HUGE and has such a high prey drive it's not even funny. He needs to run and chase things, he NEEDS to. Luckily, you can take him basically everywhere. He enjoys biting the Arishok.

Ian Hawke (complicated, stubborn, self-justified) - also Couscous because look, Ian was originally a dude mage version of Iris because I wanted a mage to gay marry Fenris and then I had to change a bunch of stuff because Iris and Fen never got along. So they have the same dog.

Kiera Hawke (angry, sad, violent) - Mel, the sleepy old warhound who will still bring you dead burglars until his last day. I take everything from Kiera so Mel unfortunately dies towards the end of the game, but he has a long rich life in which he is loved fiercely up to that point.

Alice Hawke (trusting, outgoing, somewhat overbearing) - Pokshie, the overprotective mother hen. You know those dogs who adopt like, baby geese or whatever, and their owners just have to get used to it? That's Pokshie. He decides who he's going to take care of and that is that.

Delilah Hawke (snarky, positive, gleefully chaotic) - Tosus, the dignified gentleman. Man of the house for years (eat dirt, Carver) and straight man to a great many shenanigans, Tosus has one of those doggy faces that just looks like he's judging you most of the time. Kinda the droll butler archetype, but a dog.

Quinn Hawke (grouchy, unrelenting, burdened) - Schnuffles, the friendliest animal you ever did meet. Truly this one is just corgi software running on mabari hardware. Needs so much love and attention all the time, but will mirror it back to you threefold.

Andy Hawke (unique, funny, a bit prescient) - Wendy, the disappointed mom. As if Leandra wasn't enough, Wendy is the epitome of that "I just want you to know, you have disappointed all three of us" meme but it's a dog standing between the twins and everyone is giving Andy the same disapproving expression. It doesn't even slow them down, of course, because Andy doesn't have a lot of the losses that my other Hawkes have to cope with.

The inquisitors unfortunately do not get dogs, because a good hound would out Solas in seconds, but some of them have favorite mounts. Those get their own post tho.

[litlunacy]

OC Directory

Skyrim

Dragonborn Pyrina Arrolani

Tiawyn "Swift-Fingers" Lakarys

Dragonborn La'Kiahni

Dragonborn Martivani

Dragonborn Vestra

ESO

Vestige Kentria

Zashazi Sticky-fingers

Vestige Esme Alimont

Vestige Imanni al-Dragonstar

Mass Effect Trilogy

Lorelei Shepard

Riley Shepard

ME Andromeda

Yuki Ryder

Dragon Age

Warden Auriel Surana

Xandara Hawke

Inquisitor Nythara Lavellan

Rook Nymaraya Aldwir

Warden Lanara Cousland

Delilah Hawke

Inquisitor Ashur Trevelyan

Rook Mercedez de Riva

Warden Darevas Mahariel

Anahi Hawke

Inquisitor Tariel Lavellan

Rook Imekatari

Baldur's Gate 3

Marika

Temerity

Faar'ru (Durge)

Nilofynn (Durge)

Tavitha

The Arcana

Apprentice Ximena

Apprentice Lilith

Apprentice Zuri

Apprentice Lorica

Apprentice Rajani

Apprentice Bellamy

Anybody who doesn't have a link, I haven't rambled about yet, but feel free to send an ask! I love to talk about these gremlins living in my brain.

[anoras]

hey babe new picrew just dropped

rivka surana / lea hawke / arete lavellan

althea tabris / mairwen hawke / vilja cadash

georgia maldonado / rachel wilt / delilah bellamy

[contreparry]

🍵A surprise birthday tea party for this dadwc?

Absolutely! Here’s some Nathaniel Howe for @dadrunkwriting !

Nathaniel woke as he usually did, as the sun rose over the Waking Sea, the sky streaked with pale orange and blue and a rich, rosy pink. He dressed in the shadows, pulled on clean tunic and armor and strapped a dagger to his waist before fastening his boots and tying his hair back. Just a regular day, like every day before it, with nothing remarkable to differentiate it beyond the pleasant weather. But that was life as a Warden, and Nathaniel Howe was glad he still had a life where he could do some good, especially after everything he did in his father’s name. The routine was good for him. The simplicity suited him. Just another ordinary day in Amaranthine. He ate breakfast, trained in the yard, plotted next month’s expedition into the Deep Roads with Surana, Oghren, and Velanna, rolled his eyes when Sigrun and Anders tried to rope him into building an obstacle course for the damn cat, spoke with Justice about the nature of spirits- it was an ordinary day, but a good one.

That held true until the afternoon, when Nathaniel begged off eating in the hall to meet with his sister and her family. No matter how headstrong and independent, regardless of the fact that she was a full grown woman with a husband and child- well, Delilah was still his baby sister, and he would always have the urge to check in on her.

He walked into his sister’s home as she was placing a cake on the table. The finest tablecloth covered the scarred surface of the table, the daintiest teacups were spread out with a plate of tiny sandwiches and scones and jams and honey with the honeycomb- several tea cups, Nathaniel noted. Mismatched ones, as if Delilah took several sets so she could lay out this spread fit for a noble’s afternoon tea.

“Good! You arrived just in time,” Delilah said primly. “You always were punctual.”

“What is this?” Nathaniel stared at one of the tea sets. Pale porcelain painted with giant golden roses that looked more like cabbages- knowing Delilah, they may very well be cabbages. His sister was always an odd one, stifled by the rules and expectations of nobility. Here, living as a commoner and the wife of a shop keep, Delilah seemed truly happy.

“Birthday tea, you silly goose! You might be a great Warden now, but you’ve still got birthdays!” Delilah insisted, and when there was a heavy knock at the door she grinned, her brown eyes flashing with delight.

“Well? Open it! We can’t have a birthday tea without guests!” she ordered, and as blue and silver bodies surged through the door like a flood and filled the room with laughter and ‘Happy Birthdays,” Nathaniel allowed himself a small, private smile.

Ordinary days were preferable, of course, but a change in routine... he settled at the table, Surana at his right and his sister at his left, and sipped strong black tea with a dollop of honey as Delilah piled sandwiches and sweets on his plate. Perhaps just this once he could accept a change of pace.

[anatidae-dragonage]

Welcome to dadwc!! "I’ve no language left to say it. All I do is quake to her," from the song lyric prompts really intrigued me. Feel free to write for a pairing of your choosing!

Three months later I'm getting around to a welcome prompt! Thank you asgkghjgf. Lyrics are from “Foreigner’s God” by Hozier, which I now have spent 5 hours listening to today.

I went OC rarepair, my Delilah Surana x Magdalena Trevelyan, and then it got a little out of hand.

Set in an AU where Surana was transferred to the Ostwick Circle after the uprising and Trevelyan is now Inquisitor, successor to this piece I wrote for an exchange.

Word Count: ~1800

Rating: E for brief sexual content near the end

(More plot than porn, but it’s there.)

Pairing: f!Surana/f!Trevelyan

Warnings: Explicit/NSFW, religious themes, angst

@dadrunkwriting

~~

The night is dark and moonless as Magdalena slips from camp, heartbeat fast in her throat. Meet me, the note had said, and nothing else. Meet me. She knows where on instinct--the fields south of the Crossroads, the last place they’d brushed lives before slipping away. 

They were always meant to slip away.

She’d waited until the guards’ shift change, fleeing through the Hinterlands on silent feet. You can leave when you want now, a voice whispers in her head, the one that’s always sounded like Hers. The issue isn’t the when. It’s the where. It’s the who. She prays that Cassandra and Dorian sleep through the night. She prays that Varric, who pretends not to see, doesn’t tell. She prays she’ll make it back before sunrise.

She shivers as she finds the path that parts the trees. Somehow, it had been hard to imagine the chill in the daylight. They’d collected coats and blankets for refugees, but now Magdalena wishes she had kept one for herself. Back in Haven she has furs, a cloak hardly fit for battle, but warm and her own. She imagines Surana’s face if she’d shown up wrapped in ermine and has to smile. She doesn’t risk magic though as she shivers, nothing to warm or shield, nothing that will glow as she stumbles in the dark. Too many dangers. It’s stupid enough to be out here alone, but she just has to see her.

She just has to see her.

Silhouetted in meager starlight, Surana waits for her in the center of the field. She’s coatless too, thin robes torn and patched, frays clear even from a distance. Magdalena had pointed her to a cache, but six blankets wouldn’t have gone far through the forces she knows Surana has.

Forces. Surana would scowl to know she thinks it. There are children in their midst, Magdalena knows, and tranquil, elderly, weak. Forces. Is it the Inquisition’s influence, or what her own mind had shaped of the rebellion?

She fights the urge to run to her, fists clenched at her sides to keep from waving as she walks steady. She has hopes and dreams, and none match the tone of this meeting. Surana smiles, though, when they’re close enough to see the outlines of each other’s faces in the dark.

“You came,” Magdalena breathes, as if Surana hadn’t been the one to send the invitation.

“Have I ever lied to you?” The question hangs heavy in the air. She hasn’t. The implication is clear. Can Magdalena say the same?

“Why?” she brings herself to ask. Surana shakes her head.

I had to see you again, Magdalena wants her to say.

“I had to know if you were okay.”

She almost laughs. Okay doesn’t exist in the same realm as this world they live in. Her eyes scan the shadow of furrows in the dark. They weren’t left by plows or hoofprints. The land is bloody, scarred by magic, grenades, and untold sorrows. Okay doesn’t exist in Haven or in her friends’ eyes. There’s hope. There’s hunger. There are stolen moments of joy. Okay takes a neutrality Magdalena doesn’t know if she’s ever known.

 She knows Surana hasn’t.

“Mag.” The voice cuts into her thoughts.

“I’m okay,” she says. More okay than the nightmares Surana has likely spun for her. She’s not held captive or at a Templar’s sword. She doesn’t stay up weeping, longing for home.

“Mag.”

She dosen’t want to cry tonight. Doesn’t want Surana to see her the way Delilah always had. Delilah, a name no one else had ever been allowed to use. No one but Magdalena—Mag, then, now. No one but her until the night on the hill they’d finished the job of twisting each other’s heart out and gone their separate ways.

What is this now? 

They’d kissed in this field, in the full sight of Cassandra.

“Are you safe?” she asks instead of answering. Surana’s smile is wry. 

“I’m safe.” Get what you give, the message is clear. She’d always been like that, a narrow and burning sense of justice. Eye for an eye, heart for a heart. They’ve both grown in the months since they’d parted, Mag knows, in the years since they’d first met, but something about the look in the other’s eyes always brings them back here. 

I’d get on my knees for you, Delilah had said once, eyes wide and somehow terrified. She wouldn’t now, Mag knows, and that thought brings her something close to comfort. So many would, for the Herald of Andraste. Had those years in Ostwick’s chapel granted her blessing or curse?

Delilah had never kneeled before the Maker. She doubts Surana would start now.

Mag shakes her head to clear it, and the anchor crackles.

“It isn’t safe here,” she tells Surana as she briefly glows green, and then regrets it, not ready to be sent away.

“I know a place,” she responds though, and when she offers a hand Mag has to swallow hard. Her voice dips somewhere close to a teasing tone. “And I’ll protect you.”

Her go to phrase, but in their years in Ostwick’s Circle, who had been protecting whom? 

Surana’s hand is familiar in hers, but she can feel the criss-crossing of scars left by her magic.

Your friend is a blood mage, Cassandra had said. Friend, lover, enemy. They’d never quite found a word for it.

Which would they be tonight?

Surana leads her across a sunken bridge and over a series of boulders, and Mag can hear rushing water ahead with a crisp echo. They walk upstream, silent as they balance on flat river rocks, and Mag thinks of what she’ll say. 

She thought they’d said goodbye already. She thought they’d spoken their piece in the daylight.

“Here,” Surana breathes. They come to a pool, hidden behind rocks and shrouded in a waterfall. Surana drops to all fours to crawl behind it and then offers her a hand. Equal ground, Mag thinks as she too drops to her knees.

They sit on the stone and just watch. Mag wonders if Surana can hear her heartbeat, see the way her eyes fall to her lips in the dark. Let me show you, a part of her whispers. Show her what? she argues back. The feeling is unnamable and overwhelming, makes her stomach drop and her hands itch.

“You’re doing it again,” Surana says. Mag’s eyes snap back to hers—It’s dark, but she imagines them as warm and brown, in this moment the same as ever. 

“Doing what?”

“Overthinking. Arguing with yourself. Arguing with your Maker.”

“That’s your job,” she answers on instinct, but Surana only shakes her head. She looks then doesn’t. She almost reaches out. “Surana….”

“Don’t call me that tonight.”

That’s all it takes to break her—the part that knows this ends one way, the part she’d tried to build stony against heartbreak. Surana—Delilah sees the pain in her eyes and moves in to kiss it away. Mag lets her tip her backward against the damp sandstone, leg swung over hers, curtain of tangled hair shielding them from the night.

“Delilah,” she whispers instead, and Delilah laughs against her lips, pulling back just enough to breathe:

“I hate it.” She kisses her. “Say it again.”

“Delilah.” 

Mag knows she wants the upper hand, knows from the hunger of the kisses she presses to her lips and then her neck, knows from the tension in the arms that frame her face. She knows everything that Delilah has to say and every move she’ll say it with. And Delilah has the words Mag has never been good with, has never been brave enough for. She pushes herself up on her elbows, because this is all she can give her. This is the only way she has to say it. The only reprieve she can offer.

With gentle hands, she urges Delilah up and backwards, and through the palm on the center of her chest she can feel her heartbeat. She risks a magelight, blue and flickering, to see Delilah’s eyes. There’s none of the uncertainty she fears she’ll find there. Delilah grins, gaze flicking to the light and back to Mag again. One hand reaches up to stroke her face, but it doesn’t push her away. Down they go, Mag on top, Delilah’s hair fanned beneath them, and in a different time Mag would have washed it and combed it and braided it away. Tonight she kisses her, slow and sweet, real and unyielding. 

Tonight she makes love her apology.

Tonight she lifts Delilah to the Golden City that she doesn’t believe in, before it was black and broken.

One hand cups her cheek, holds her close, holds her steady. The other moves down Delilah’s body, slipping under seams and undoing buttons. She wears the same robes she’s always worn, no surprise. Mag knows how to move them up, leave them fanned like angel’s wings, and she smiles as her fingers release the final loop. Delilah’s body is muscled now, scarred. It’s still warm and thrumming with the magic she’d never quite wanted to control.

“Ah,” Delilah gasps against her lips as her fingers squeeze her hips. “Magdalena.”

“Mag,” she insists. She is Magdalena to the Inquisition. Let her be Mag here tonight. Slowly she slips down Delilah’s body, apologetic kisses to her jawline when she leaves her lips, gentle ones that skim her throat and move down her front, over her stained robes and to where they’re parted. When she licks a trail below her navel, Delilah shivers and weaves a hand through her hair. 

“Delilah,” she whispers again before dropping down. Delilah and Mag, the people they can’t afford to be. 

It’s easy, returning here. As practiced as prayer. Dark and hot and honeyed, electric and raw. Delilah gasps when she comes, shaking under her lips and hands, fingers scratching against the rock instead of knotting in her hair. She pants but doesn’t make another sound.

There are tears in both of their eyes when she resurfaces. 

And they don’t speak. Delilah kisses her, more gently than she ever has, and when she lays her down on the rocks she knows this is the only conversation they’ll have. The only thing that won’t drag on the hurt. 

When Mag hears a bird’s song she knows it’s time to leave. Delilah seems to sense it. 

“Thank you for coming,” is all she says, and when Mag stands she climbs to her feet beside her. There’s no witty comment that follows. There’s nothing sappy in reply. 

Tomorrow, Mag leaves for Redcliffe, and then she leaves the Hinterlands behind. They’d already said their good lucks and goodbyes. This was extra. Salt in the wound. Honey in the pot.

“Yeah,” she says ineloquently. Their walk back down the stream is on wobbly legs. They split back near the field, Magdalena to her camp and Surana to hers. 

“Wait,” Surana whispers before Magdalena turns her back. “Andraste light your path.”

Magdalena breathes deep. 

“And you light yours.”

[bitalis]

anders !! for the “send me a character” thing :’)

-favorite thing about them: his nose, very boopable <3

-least favorite thing about them: the way he treats merrill, i want to kick him in the ankles

-favorite line: “i will drown us in blood to keep you safe” very nice, 10/10

-brOTP: him and amell/surana, i love when people draw their wardens and him being buddies in general but when it’s mage origin warden?? chefs kiss

-OTP: him and hawke uwu

-nOTP: never seen it but uhm him and bethany she literally compares him to their dad what’re you doing

-random headcanon: that he has two piercings, since you do give him a second earring as a gift in awakening even though it can be considered a spare but i like the idea of him having both his ears pierced

-unpopular opinion: feel like people often don’t let him be wrong, if that makes sense? like he isn’t perfect and i like that let him have his imperfections

-song i associate with them: delilah by florence + the machine <3

-favorite picture of them: i don’t have it on me but i had a screenshot of his reaction when you take him on sebastian’s quest to the house and that guy in the bedroom and he was just like 😦 edit i FOUND IT.

send me a character!

[fillianore-moved]

under the cut is the reference list of all the photos of paintings i used for my oc page; please don’t rb this post because it’s made for crediting/reference purposes but feel free to like it or follow the blogs mentioned! if any of the original posters want me to remove something, please just send me a message:

dahlia surana: x x x

sora hawke: x x x

arin lavellan: x x x

cirinna blueshade: x x x

margot varin: x x x

anaiah terano: x x x

nera: x x x

fina: x x x

yuno: x x x

sana virag: x x x

evelyn harper: x x x

adrasteia: x x x

violetta haines: x x x

delilah frye: x x x

cassia montal: x x x

[orasurana]

About: Oranari Surana

I was tagged by @feeshies and I’m finally getting around to doing it

― your muse’s name:

Oranari Surana. Ora to her friends.

―  a favorite picture / faceclaim of your muse:

I never really had faceclaims for my OCs before but this season of the 100 I saw Ashleigh LaThrop playing Delilah/Priya and I thought... yes this could work (with elf ears of course)

― two headcanons you have for your muse:

oh boy just two?

Ora was born in the Amaranthine Alienage. She looks most like her father, though she hardly remembers her parents. She also had two younger siblings she never knew. They survived the Blight, but died when she burned Amaranthine in Awakening and left it to defend Vigil’s Keep

In terms of raw power, Ora is actually not that powerful as a mage. But she’s very good at controlling the battlefield and has to rely on strategy to win most fights. This is one of the reasons she had Sten help teacher her to use her staff as a weapon so she has a way to defend herself beyond magic

― three things that your muse likes doing in their free time:

Free time? Wardens have that?

Studying plants. After Awakenings I imagine she’s on the road quite a bit, but when she has the time she’ll go out into a field somewhere or the forest and look around for interesting plants or birds to sketch and study. She’s filled notebooks on plants she’s found while traveling all over.

Chess. She learned it when she was younger in the circle and still plays it from time to time.

Playing with her mabari, Garahel (and also spending time with Alistair).

― seven people your muse loves / likes:

(loves) Alistair, Morrigan, Nathaniel

(really likes and cares deeply about but its not quite the same as those she loves)  Zevran, Bethany Hawke, Sten

― a phobia your muse has:

Watching the people she loves die without being able to do anything about it, losing her mind and becoming a ghoul or broodmother

[red-wardens]

What was the first moment that they knew they were in love with their LI? - for all of them. Every single one. Indulge me. (Our dorky boys are optional

Red Warden Squad in Love

2. What was the first moment that they knew they were in love with their LI?

Blue Surana: With Sten she honestly wouldn’t be able to tell you exactly when she fell for him. It happened so gradually that she once she was in it she was unable to recall how it felt like to not be in love with him. The first time she admits she loves Sten to herself is when she learns, from studying at Arl Aemon’s library during her stay what “kadan” means. It has no right to give her butterflies but it does, and when she asks him about it later and he explains it is not necessarily a romantic term? the sinking feeling of disappointment warns her that she has it bad. But she doesn’t show it of course.

Isseya Mahariel: Isseya never tells Tamlen she loves him because she couldn’t even admit it to herself. He knew though, even if she didn’t, that by the time they were 17 she loved him more than just her best friend. They both thought they’d have more time to work it all out. After his words to her as a ghoul she knows that she loved him too but it’s too late then. That messes her up for years after. With Zevran, she’s too busy grieving and focusing on stopping the Archdemon to realize she’s falling for him. In my heacanon they don’t get together till a year or so after the Blight, and she doesn’t sleep with him at all during Origins. She wears his earring and writes letters to him while she’s Arlessa of Amaranthine and he’s in Antiva. They write a lot of letters. A year after Awakening she signs one of her letters “Love, Isseya” without thinking about it and stares at the ink till it dries. She sends it. He doesn’t write back, but he leaves Antiva to return to her the same hour he reads the letter, a proposal ready on his lips. 

Alyss Amell: Alyss isn’t in love right away but she’s definitely crushing on Leliana from Day 1. She’s kind, and encouraging, and cute, and welcoming, and refined, and brave. She shares her faith and they both can speak Orlesian. Due to low self-esteem she never imagines Leliana would like her back so is pining for months completely oblivious to Leliana’s flirting and interest in her as more than a gal pal. Leliana eventually gets fed up before the Landsmeet and straight up invites Alyss to her tent which completely flusters the mage. But she doesn’t say no. After, my disaster bi, breathlessly whispers those 3 words after and, for the first time in her life, she’s sure about something. 

Kieran Tabris: Kieran’s not the commitment type and will normally not even sleep with the same person more than once. But living in such close proximity in Vigil’s Keep with Velanna? Well, things happen, and after a few months, she says it. In retrospect, it must have hurt for her to hear him just say “yeah” and avert his eyes, change the subject. He surprises both of them about a year into their friends-with-benefits thing when he mumbles “I love you” into her hair one morning. She stops trying to wriggle out of his arms (”We’re going to be late for breakfast, you oaf, let go!”) and just stares at him, shook because the vulnerable look in his eyes says he means it.  

Nora Brosca: Nora realizes she loves Sigrun in her absence. After she’s left for the Legion of the Dead, Nora’s life feels somehow emptier. She’s completely thrown off because people in Dust Town die or disappear so often, “missing” anyone is a useless feeling so most people don’t bother. She’s never missed anyone before. She’s desperate to go find her though and she’s not sure why. It’s not till she spends a year with the other Wardens, watches them all fall in love, that the word falls from her own lips when she finally does meet her old friend again. She’s a liar by nature but this time both of them know she’s never said anything more honest. 

Cassian Cousland: They were kids when they met. Nathaniel Howe was a year younger than Fergus (5 years older than Cassian) and he came often to Highever with his younger siblings Thomas (1 year younger than Cassian) and Delilah (1year older than Cassian). While he played with the younger Howes, Cassian had heart eyes for Nate since the day they met (Cassian was 7 and he knew already he liked boys). It was a puppy crush until Nate turned 21 and was leaving for the Free Marches. Cassian, 16 years old and not “out” yet, at the farewell banquet in Vigil’s Keep, trying not to cry because he couldn’t bring himself to tell Nate how he felt. 

———————–

((omg thanks for asking for all of my wardens I love you))

———————–

OC Relationship Asks

[wardenmages]

i kind of want to package up all these dialogue changes i’m making, largely removing the misogynist dialogue choices (ex: the gender difference when talking to fergus and oriana, murdock’s comments in redcliffe, the demon’s comments in the castle, etc.) and also i made howe’s comments abt which kid he wants to set the younger cousland sib up with queer (my cousland is bi and had a big crush on delilah lmao). i have a few others i want to make as well to add in

but i would have to go about fixing them in a completely different way..... right now, i’m taking the lines i don’t want to ever fire and swapping them to a plot flag i would never use, which is basically just the specializations i don’t like, or the “warrior” class because i never play warriors. so, my spirit healer/blood mage surana and assassin cousland will never get them, but it’s... definitely not a good fix to share with other people lmao

[morutopiya]

click on picz for captions 🐑

[so-very-small]

I know you have a huge amount of ocs do you have a master list of them all?

yeah! it’s a hella long list, because i currently have 210 OCs, but here’s a list of em! if you’re curious about any of them, feel free to ask bc i love talking about them ^^;;

they’re organized by story name, with that being in bold. the rest are OCs. also, the ones with stars by their names are my favs

DDH Squad

Natalie White

Thomas Wood

Brenn Baker

Reg Rider

Tinna Flitt

Rani Rivers

Ny Elden ★

Gnash Tiwst ★

Moriain Winters

Dieanias Knight

Atmos

Malien

Lorien

Annia Elden

Quill

Friea

Dianna Queens

Tieanna P'tal

Myla Cesca

Damien Brunt

Talvasin

Dreya Moorose

Spark Theim

Briar Rose

Roland Wood

Mace

Rav AmiAmi

Polaris Asuran

Floaty

Artim Lore

Diah Eli

Jobal Theim

Khalen

Falling

Atlas Jones //Jamie Door

Key // Nalo Obi

Claire/Clint Smith

Stewart Stevens

Della Nova

Gemma Brown ★

Alistair Queen

ESN

4674

Russ

Takumi

Will

Louis

VID

Lou Walker

Max Moore

Sarah McKinley

Sven Winstrom

Noah Smith

Matt Loupe

Anneasa Loupe

Emra

Nyra

Absalom Stoltzfus

GSP

Elliot Fobb

Vim Coast

Spia

SJQ

Lizzy Gloss //Ellieas Gossill

Geoff

PI

Her

Him

The Witch

Fandom OC's

Pirouette ★

Neria Surana

Ny Tabris

Eyre ★

Bronte ★

Zoltan ★

Smol Nano

Stockinette

Sparrow

Red

Leiana

Car

Car

The Inventor

Tuck

MichaelPowell

Delilah Story

Delilah Weston ★

Jasper Levi ★

Melody Montrose

Felix Ace

Ruma Ord

Winston Everett

Allnatha

Fiona Ace

Marnie Ace

Second Gen DDH

Becca Baker-Rider

Nan Wood

Sonya Flitt

Thesaurus Busters

Molly

Jim

Matt

Ben

Ashton

GAV

Vinea

Oppineus

AGCH

Hanson

Caden James

Mr. Charles

Mr. Benson

Various

Callisto

Wilbur

Lih ★

Jamie Citrus

Lambert 'Lamby'Jameson

Nova Story

Nova

Louis

Kurt

George

Penn

Lottavan

Lottie/Charlotte ★

Donovan ★

The Hero

The Elder

Wizard

Georgia

Caine

Penn

Lance

Franklin

Moragana

Air Masks

Jace Jordan

Jefferson

Sebastain

Pirate

Reese Collette

Orville Zabala

Timm Collette

Bonnie Read

Viola Stuart

Jack Jayjay

Tia Ramos

Mary Fabre

Jim Jackson

Saffy Lous

Dill Lous

Ari Oliver

Sanny Jackson

Luis Jackson

Tree Jackson

Maci

Pen Percival

Ro Rolland

Marionette Wills

Marnya Rise

Regin Wills

Marrian Wills

Marius Sweet

Louise Pointe

Mathias

FairyTale

Raoul

Bennett

Flitt

Demini

Druids

Azare Moorose

Ocie

In The Midst

Leo Lance

Azriah Blanc

Debbie Wright

Iris Issa

Jane Martoffski

Pascal Rodin

Pupper

Road Trip

Alexandrite

Frank

Ares

Ares One (Shiloh Teer)

Captain (Wren Patton)

Ziah Lallo

Pogg Strom

G-lo (Gregory Lowell)

Sash Skai (Stazhk Skaitruvezt)

Annette (A-N3TT)

Knick/Seam

Knick

Seam

Nyami

Mourners

Mar Soot ★

Loc

Whill

Acci

Pevensie

Hands

Dot

Norman

Foster

Pole

Peach

Band-aid

Lion

Tater

Aline

Nevvy

Naruto

Sibling

Bekkett

Thot

What you Made Me

Lihs ★

Arlo ★

Time Travel

Barbra

Matter

Tock

Evelet

Nofie

Cloven Spire

Nan Issti

Hawke Dawnson // Hai

Boof

Tiki

Sian

Reys

Schrood

Bennedette

Marscapone “Mars” Pel

Wells

Books

Booker // Lambert “Lucky” Stravarious

Vic

Tekka

Parki