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inquisimer · 2 months

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happy Friday! sending you “his actions speak for themselves” for Neria 👀

happy dadwc friday and ty for the prompt! Some surana & anders circa da2 for this one :3

for @dadrunkwriting

“He’s here, you know.”

Neria didn’t even look up from where she was braiding elfroot, tongue poked out in concentration. “Who is?”

“Your pretty boy Templar, of course.”

That gave her pause and her finger froze on the twisted herb stems as she stared over at Anders. His feigned nonchalance confused her; she puzzled over it as she waited for him to look at her, but he kept his head bent over whatever new draft or plan he was sketching out.

In the meantime, Neria’s heart and mind caught up to what he’d said. Cullen was here, in Kirkwall, probably no more than an hour’s walk from the clinic. Did he remember her? Did he want to see her? Did he miss her, miss their chats and company? Perhaps she could—

“He’s at the Gallows.”

Reality slammed into Neria like a cold wave off the Waking Sea. It washed over her idealistic hopes and carried away the pleasant, comfortable memories she liked to reminisce. If Cullen was here, of course he was in the Gallows. Because he was a Templar, and Templars guarded the mages. And if he was here, that meant he was complicit in all that Anders was fighting against. He was complicit in Karl’s death, and so many others. All of the small, frightened faces that she and Anders ushered out through the Underground, Cullen would see imprisoned, slaughtered, Tranquil.

But—there was hope. Slowly, she resumed her braiding and, in a carefully measured voice, she asked, “Do you know if he’s with Thrask?”

Her heart sank at Anders’ answering scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s the Knight Commanders little lapdog, from everything I’ve heard and seen. You should have heard what he said to Hawke, when she barely defended her sister to him—harsher than Greagoir ever was with us, to say the least.”

Neria frowned. It didn’t seem right. She’d known Cullen, as well as a mage could know any Templar that guarded them, enough to know his name, at least. To know of his family and his fears and his wishes for the future. She could not imagine his soft face and gentle curls twisted in such cruelty, lashing out with such animosity.

“‘Mages aren’t people like you and me, Hawke’,” Anders quoted, sourly dunking his quill back into the inkpot. “‘They cannot be trusted.’”

“Maker that’s…something’s not right, then.” Neria shook her head, somewhat unable to reconcile what Anders was telling her with what she remembered. Not that she thought Anders would lie to her, but her own memory was hardly so fallible either.

Anders cocked his head. “Didn’t Solona write you?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

He swore under his breath, pushing greasy hair out of his eyes as he shook his head. “She was supposed to write you. To tell you,” he muttered. “Of all the things to chicken out on.”

“Tell me what?”

“Well—it’s—I can’t explain as well as she could. Which is why she was supposed to tell you.”

“But you know.” Neria fastened a piece of twine around her elfroot braid and set it on the stack. She folded her arms across her chest and waited.

Anders bit his lip. “Well. You know how Uldred was when we escaped?”

“Batshit and loony?”

“Yeah. So apparently someone ticked him off at Ostagar and he made a deal with Loghain—that idiot believed the Teryn would free them if the Circle helped him take over Ferelden.”

“As if.”

“Exactly. But, so, he decided the thing to do was, once he got back from Ostagar, summon a fuck load of demons and take over the tower with blood magic.”

On instinct, Neria went very still. The scars on her forearms, long healed, blazed as though they were fresh wounds. Anders’ gaze didn’t even flick toward them, but she felt the inexplicable, undeserved guilt just the same.

But—she’d heard no news about Kinloch Hold being destroyed. No annulment, no major catastrophe. And surely the Chantry would have blared any major success far and wide as propaganda.

“So what happened?”

“Solona, of course. What else?” Anders snorted. “She showed up with her Warden treaties, as angelic as if she’d never been gone in the first place. Greagoir was already wrapped around her finger and he fell right back into that. She did right by as many as she could. Of course—“ he swallowed hard, voice and face falling, “—she didn’t get there right away. Things were already…chaotic and out of control. Not everyone made it. Either Uldred or the demons got…far too many of them.”

It was like the world had fallen out from under Neria. She couldn’t stop herself imagining her home—not quite beloved, but comfortable, familiar, all she’d known for almost two decades—strewn with the blood of those she’d loved, her comrades and companions.

How easily it could have been her, if Anders hadn’t dragged her up out of complacency.

A shudder wracked through her and she reached for more elfroot to busy her hands.

“Hey, she saved a lot of them,” Anders said softly. “More than Greagoir would have, at any rate.”

“Of course she did. That’s what Sol does. She saves people.” Neria flicked her wrist against the once-enchanted bracelet, wished she had enough talent to will it back to life. She missed her friend. “So what does this all have to do with Cullen? He was there, I assume?”

“He was unlucky, to hear Solona tell it.” Anders scowled. “I don’t wonder if he was more than unlucky, if this maliciousness was just waiting to be unlocked. It’s not as if the handful of other survivors were nearly as vicious as he was—“

“Get to the point,” Neria cut him off tersely. If this shit-talking was deserved, well, she would let him ramble on and tune him out. But she’d rather know for sure, to sate the growing anxiety in her chest.

“They found him tortured, bloody and beaten, teased by a demon for days, maybe weeks.” Anders tapped his quill on the edge of the pot, dripping the excess away. “He asked them to kill every mage there, just in case. And even after the tower was cleared and Uldred dead, he asked them the same, again. Irving was whole and well, everyone else battered but sound of mind, and he would have killed them all, just in case.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Neria whispered. These feelings coursing through her, she didn’t know them. What was she supposed to feel? Horror? Sorrow? Anger? She felt all of them at once, just in case she chose wrong. Clearly, Anders wanted her to disavow Cullen, to throw herself headlong into their work and forget whatever connection they had before. But—how could she?

“Because if I just told you that he was a twat, you wouldn’t believe me. You wouldn’t change about him. His actions speak for themselves, Ria—he’s everything we’re fighting against.”

Neria shook her head, even as Anders’ gaze hardened with anger, frustration. “No. It’s just—it’s a defense, or something. He went through trauma as well! He was so kind and open, and not just with me. It can’t all have gone away. It’s there, somewhere.”

“Does it matter?” Anders challenged. “If he’s putting mages to the brand and the blade left and write, does it matter if there’s something good underneath?”

Neria tossed another elfroot braid onto the stack. “Careful, wisp. People have said the same about mages, before.”

“Without anything to back it up! I have proof, with him.”

“And the Chantry has blood mages!” Neria cried. “You’re looking for proof, because you don’t want to think there’s anything good left in him. But what if there is? What then?”

“If the proof wasn’t there, I wouldn’t have found anything while I was looking.”

“People change,” Neria said stubbornly. “And I’m not having this debate with you, wisp. What were you trying to achieve? I’m not going near the Gallows, anyway. I’m helping with the underground, anyway. Were you just trying to make me as angry as you are?”

Anders’ eyes flashed blue and she knew she’d hit the nail on the head.

“Sorry to disappoint,” she bit out, tying the elfroot a bit too tight; the bundle snapped in half and the shreds of it fluttered to the floor around her shaking hands. “I don’t get angry. I just leave.”

She threw the remnants of the ruined braid in his direction, shoved her muddled thoughts aside, and did just that.

She left.

#my writing #dadwc #dragon age fanfic #anders #oc: neria surana lavellan #surana & anders #neria & anders #neria x cullen #da2 #dao #dragon age #ws: the ties we choose

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fandomn00blr · 2 years

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Some Sentences Today

Tagged by some pals @noire-pandora and @cleverblackcat yesterday for Six Sentence Sunday, and I’m tagging you two right back, along with a few more of you for non-obligatory WIP updates or whatever: @blarrghe, @nirikeehan, @tea42, @gothkimmyschmidt, @polymorphic-basket, @paraparadigm, @grumpkinvicky, and anyone, really!

Most recently, I have been feverishly outlining and jotting down some of the fluffiest most embarrassing teen romance scenes I’ve ever written (I take it back, stroghainoff will always be my top fluffiest ship) for Anders and Karl in my Dark Sprawl AU (working title: Chess Club...mmhmmm...yes...yup!). This whole thing was just meant to be little snippets of backstory for my fenders fic which I have also been working on, only slightly less feverishly because I can’t decide if I want to send them to the beach for a nice fun picnic, or straight into angst town. But now it’s like...a whole thing, and I’ll probably end up posting it as a short fic all by itself when I have enough coherently-written fluff in chronological order to call it a story.

But in the meantime, here’s something I’ve just written that I’m not sure what to do with --- a bit of Neria Surana and Anders being found siblings back in the Facility:

Neria rolls her eyes at him. “Well, I mean, you two are basically already marr—”

Anders claps his hand over her mouth. “Shhhhh!”

She tries to finish her sentence, but he squeezes his hand even tighter against her mouth to muffle her and looks frantically around the room to make sure no one has heard her before letting go.

“Rude!”

“You can’t go blabbing about it!” he whispers. “People can’t know that we’re…” Anders trails off, feeling suddenly a bit indecisive about what word to use next.

She leans in closer, her eyebrows raised. “That you’re what?”

“Together...?”

“Well, you make it pretty obvious.”

“What do you know about it?”

“I know that you get heart-eyes whenever he walks into the room.”

“Do not!”

“And that his whole stupid face lights up when he sees you, too.”

“Does it? I hadn’t noticed...”

“Yes! How can you not know that? You’re always staring at him.”

“Well, he always looks nice to me.”

Neria rolls her eyes again. “Gross.”

“I know! But he --- I just...I really like him, Neri. And I think he likes me, too!”

“No. I mean, I’m happy for you. And Karl…I guess. But kissing and…whatever you two do when you claim to be ‘studying’ together lately, it’s just…” She wrinkles her nose up and shudders.

“That’s fine. I don’t want to imagine you kissing anyone, either. You’re like my baby sister. You’re not allowed to kiss people.”

“Okay, one…I don’t think you need to worry about that. And two…I’m only three years younger than you. And I was here first.”

“Doesn’t matter. When I got here, you were still a baby.”

“I was nine, but okay…”

#dragon age #anders #karl #neria surana #kanders #dark sprawl AU #WIP

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hexxalite-hecate · 1 month

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I don’t know why because there is absolutely no lore in any of the games to support this (in fact quite the opposite), but somewhere along the line I decided that mages in Dragon Age all have different coloured flames, they can’t choose or control or change it, it just is. And I’d already subconsciously assigned most of the characters their colour.

Amaranthe Amell - lapis blue with a heart of iridescent pearl (because she’s God’s favourite princess)

Neria Surana – bright sunny butter yellow

Morrigan – deep gold with a dark amethyst halo

Jowan – pale silver-green marshlight

Anders – umber with a heart of crimson

Wynne – powder-blue, translucent like glass

Connor – jade green

Lanaya – pale daffodil yellow with a grass-green halo

Velanna – sullen orange like glowing embers

Finn – pretty normal looking, but gets a glint of emerald at the centre if he’s super excited about something

Hawke – blood red. Just blood red

Bethany – soft violet

Merrill – scarlet fading into coral

Dorian – rich magenta with royal purple flashes

Vivienne – pastel lavender

Solas – smoke grey with a blinding white halo, hurts the eyes

I have no idea why I did this but it’s my inescapable headcanon now. Feel free to comment if you have a different vision, or a character I didn’t mention, or your own Warden/Hawke/Inquisitor/OC!

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faux-fires · 1 year

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(Not-a) Drabble-a-day #5

let us hold a memorial service for the 200 word a day limit because i clearly do not know her. rip my ability to keep things concise at the moment i’m taking anything under 1k as a victory

(h)anders not-a-drabble day #5, prompt, “Naked”, some (relatively) non-explicit sexy times herein

The night had been going great, but it was what happened after they fucked that throws Anders for a loop.

His experience has taught him that fucking is the climax (so to speak) of the evening, followed by a hasty separation lest you get caught. Even in the Pearl he got bounced out after finishing, Madame needing the bed for someone else.

But Hawke wants to cuddle, and Anders, unsure how it works, submits to it with a white-eyed tension that almost undoes all the good work getting his back blown out did an hour before. He's handsy. He keeps kissing Anders, on the face sure but also on the throat and chest and arms; his beard is whisper-soft. And he won't stop petting Anders, stroking his hand along the curve of his shoulder, sweeping his thumb over his ribs, fingers seeking out knots of scar tissue and tracing them with a calm acceptance Anders has no idea what to do with.

Anders knows he can be... intense. He doesn't know how not to be; the emotions are too big for him to keep inside. But he has absolutely no idea what to do with the quiet contentment on Hawke's face, the satisfaction he sees there. Perhaps it's a sex thing? Carefully he offers, "I should be ready for another round in about fifteen minutes," and when Hawke's eyes widen, adds, "Grey Warden, remember?"

"Maker's furry arse crack," Hawke breathes, his reverent tone making his blasphemous words something of a mixed message. "It's like you stepped right out of the Fade," and Anders must have misheard, because he's not - that's not - that cannot be him.

He's mean. He's paranoid. He's crazy. He's angry. He lives in a fucking sewer. He literally almost killed a helpless child not even twelve hours ago, and he feels himself flinch, but before he can open his mouth and say any of this Hawke's eyes go soft and he says, "Stay with me, love."

Anders swallows. "Where else would I go?"

Hawke shrugs. "I don't know," he says, and he rolls on top of Anders, then, in a fluid motion - Anders is aware he's flushing, his skin singing with the ghosts of before, which is ridiculous because Anders once sucked off a senior enchanter under a dining table ten minutes before curfew. He once got fingered by Neria Surana in a laundry closet right in front of a Tranquil, whose only comment was to ask him not to come on the clean towels. He once took himself in hand in the baths of the apprentice dorm with a templar wandering up and down the tubs, and came while making direct eye contact. He cannot be blushing, now, here, because Hawke is lying naked atop him, looking at him with affection.

How humiliating it is, to be brought down not by the amazing sex or the flowery words exchanged leading up to the moment, but by the aftermath - for the gentle touch of Hawke's calloused palms against his hips, the whiskery press of his beard to Anders's throat as he kisses his way along Anders' jawline. He's had so much sex, and none of it ever felt like this - the vulnerability not just of being still abed after the act but in being loved. His breathing is too quick and he's blinking too fast and Hawke doesn't seem to mind, not even slightly, and is instead treating him like something fragile: something to be treasured.

Once Anders got caught in the infirmary after hours with two other apprentices and a well-polished wooden wand, and paraded back to the dorm by Gregoir himself, not allowed time to dress: and he still felt more clothed then than he does now, when Hawke kisses him so sweetly and says, "Would you like that sandwich now, or after?"

Maker's furry arse crack, indeed.

#reikah writes recklessly #anders #hawke #handers #drabble a day #whenever i type anything about anders living in a sewer my traitor brain immediately begins blaring #WHO LIVES IN A SEWER UNDER A CITY? AN-DERS SQUARE-PANTS at mach volume #which lemme tell you #is a real mood killer when you're trying to write mushy romance about healing from ur childhood trauma #anders vs the mortifying ordeal of being loved

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of-kirkwall · 9 months

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@savingthrcw sent: "i would have died had it not been for you." from Neria

Hawke grunted, shaking his head, "Anders would have had my head, if I'd let you," he gave for an explanation, frowning a bit as his one good eye narrowed, and he poured more magic into the long slice down Neria's arm. He wasn't as talented with healing as Anders, but what he had would do.

The mage in question, however, was not in attendance. Scampered off, it seemed. Or really, just hiding. For as open and frankly talkative as the man was, he found it curious that Anders wasn't very open about his time in the Circle. He spoke a lot about the place itself, but very rarely about anything personal, like friends.

"He said he knew you. Before, in the Circle."

#setting || kirkwall #savingthrcw

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lexadovah · 9 months

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Hero of Ferelden Info Sheet

(Stolen from @dreadhorsegirl )

Basic Details

Name: Astrid Amell

Nicknames: Asta

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexual/Romantic Orientation: Bisexual

Age: 19 at start of events in DAO

Height: 5'5

Build: Slim

Race/Ethnicity: Human-Free Marcher

Skintone: Pale with some freckles on her nose

Hair: Strawberry blond

Eyes: Blue-grey

Game specifications

Class: Mage

Specialization: Primal and Entropy, later on Arcane Warrior

Origin: Circle Mage

Religious Beliefs: Agnostic, later on she becomes more interested in what the Old Gods could be (basically follows Morrigan’s line of thinking) and how this connects to the Fade etc

Major Game Decisions

Love Interest: Alistair

Broken Circle: Mages Supported

The Arl of Redcliffe: Isolde sacrificed for the blood magic ritual, Connor alive and not possessed

Nature of the Beast: Brokered Peace

The Battle of Denerim: Warden killed archdemon & alive and well—Alistair made an Old God Baby with Morrigan

Ruler of Ferelden: Anora

Character Attributes

Timid to Assertive scale:

Timid ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ● Assertive

Logical to Emotional scale:

Logical ◦ ● ◦ ◦ ◦ Emotional

Introvert to Extrovert scale:

Introvert ◦ ● ◦ ◦ ◦ Extrovert

Biggest Strength: Fearlessness, not afraid to face anyone head on. Has a very “I’ll do it myself” attitude

Biggest Weakness: Acts without thinking, can come across as careless

Relationship to Family: Doesn’t know who her father is, never met any of her siblings (she’s the youngest of five) and has vague memories of her mother but doesn’t really remember ever feeling safe or loved by her. She has vague memories of her cousins from her childhood and later reconnects with Bethany in the Wardens

Closest Relationships: Jowan and Neria were her best friends during her time in the Circle. She had a relationship with Anders and a mutual crush on Cullen. Alistair and Morrigan during DAO. She was also good friends with Leliana and Zevran by the end of DAO and had mutual respect with Sten.

Core Desire: To have a family and a place to call home

Core Fear: Losing Alistair

Character Arc Theme: finding her place in the world. She’s “too big” for the Circle, she never knew her real family, (besides the Hawkes). She just wants to find her purpose and live happily with her found family

Backstory

Revka had left Kirkwall far behind when she gave birth to Astrid. On a small farm outside of Highever, Revka kept the tiny Astrid strapped to her chest while she tended the gardens and fed the chickens. But when she saw the Templars coming up the road, she disappeared.

The mother and child did not remain in any one place for long after that; she worked where she could to make enough coin to get by, be that collecting herbs for the nights stew in a tavern, or mucking out the stables at a crossroads inn. She never gave her real name, and never let the child spend too much time alone in the company of others.

One stormy night, when Astrid was just five years old, Revka appeared on her cousin Leandra’s doorstep. Tired from running, she hoped to find sanctuary with her estranged family, and remained for a few weeks. Her paranoia kept her at odds with her cousin, and Malcolm Hawke observed that Astrid was already showing signs of magic at an early age—the same as his daughter Bethany. The two young girls were of an age together and became fast friends in that time, the difference being that Bethany was taught to control her magic whereas Astrid was told to ignore it and pretend she wasn’t a mage.

After a heated argument between Malcolm and Revka—in which Malcolm had offered to teach Astrid how to control her powers and Revka forbade him to even look at her child—she disappeared again, Astrid in tow. A few days after this incident, the Templars finally caught up; to Astrid, alone, sitting on the side of the road bundled in nothing but the clothes on her back and a dirty old cloak wrapped about her tiny shoulders. No one ever saw or heard from Revka again.

Her time in the Circle was mostly uneventful. Astrid struggled to make friends and was behind in terms of knowing her numbers and letters. She was adamant that her mother would come back for her, which the other mage children teased her about, as no one’s mother was coming for them.

She eventually made friends with Jowan, a year older than her, who helped her catch up with her reading and writing. She was bunk mates with Neria Surana, who was the closest thing to a sister she had ever known. And despite her early struggles, she had remembered her cousin Malcolm’s words about taking control of your magic and not letting it rule you—she studied hard and gained a firm grasp on her powers, exceeding many other kids her age.

She became defiant as a teenager, asking questions about why they couldn’t be free and finding the rules of the Circle oppressive. She didn’t want to remain in this cage forever and longed for a life outside the Circle walls. Her instructors believed she could be an Enchanter one day, but that just Wasn’t Good Enough. Regardless she started buckling down and studying hard in the hopes of passing her Harrowing and opening opportunities to leave the tower for Circle related business.

It was during this time she felt a rift between herself and her two friends. Neria had become distant, choosing the company of other elf mages, and Jowan was often nowhere to be found. When she did speak with them, they found her constant studying annoying, claiming she was “giving in” to the system.

Astrid was excelling at most schools of magic, but was struggling with healing spells and was soon set up to be tutored by Anders (who was given the tutoring job as a punishment for his latest escapades and a hope to keep him busy). During long hours studying together and her loneliness she started a friends-with-benefits affair with Anders that carried on until he escaped a fifth and final time—but not before she had grasped healing magic enough to take her Harrowing…

#hero of ferelden #dragon age #dragon age origins #oc #oc stuff

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niofo · 5 months

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I will never be normal about the multiplayer mages. There is not much about them, but what is there is really fun and i really hope that they bring some of those characters in dad, it would be great to have some of those former field agents of the inquisition running around, and they're blank slates enough to leave writers with quite a free range.

I always found it interesting how Cillian was obviously inspired by Fenris with his design, but also his opposite in the others. Obviously he's a mage, and an arcane warrior on top, someone who spent years just meditating in abandoned elven ruin, probably has an enormous knowledge about ancient elven lore - but also he's just this calm and friendly guy. He's so positive and full of wonder when looking at the world around him. Despite certainly being warned about templars by his keeper, he still calls Belinda da'len, bcos he sees that she's young and enthusiastic, and a bit naive. His vallaslin is June, which doesn't fit his character on the first glance (i would rather put him as a Dirthamen or even Falon'din guy), so i wonder if it was intentional to shine more light on Fenris' lyrium markings looking like June vallaslin. But also maybe there is some untold story to explain why Cillian picked June in particular.

Hissera was going to be a tamassran when her magic first manifested. Obviously there's not much about her bcos she doesn't have any dialogue, but i just find it interesting, that unlike Ketojan, she decided to live free from the qun after losing her arvaarad, i wonder if it has something to do with her previous priestess training. Her name means hope, which is also not something ever associated with saarebas. It would be nice if Bull too her under his wing after the Inquisition is done.

Neria is someone my Ilen Lavellan would love to hang out with, just talking about their respective clans, how it was as the First, perhaps reminiscing about past arlathvens where they met. She wishes to be back with her clan, but she considers defeating Corypheus too important to just let shems take care of it alone, she wants people to remember about dalish and not have them pushed to the sidelines again. I wonder is it was meant to be a neurodivergent trait, but Cillian remembers her as a little girl trying to solve an unsolvable puzzle, and that she was so focused she didn't even notice him leaving. Her vallaslin is Dirthamen, which is fitting for a future Keeper, but also shows her inquisitive nature.

I know most people hates Sidony, and for very good reasons, but i experienced her only after i created Idris, and the parallels were just too fun to let go. They're both necromancers specializing with ice magic, they are both not particularly nice and warm people, although Sidony certainly made it into an art. I think if idris wasn't the Inquisitor he would have a similar reputation, but as much as for him it's just his personality and actually he cares about people too much even, Sidony really seem to mainly care about the pursuit of knowledge and to be left alone. I would love to meet her as a grumpy hermit who lets us use her arcane book collection on the promise that afterwards we'll leave her alone and never come back. Maybe with a little treat that if the players decides to come back after all, she blasts the party with a blizzard.

And of course i have already way too many thoughts about Rion, de facto having him as one of the main characters of my fic. It all started just because he is from the Ostwick Circle, just as mage!Trevelyan, but he's an endearing character on his own. Hhe dresses in a same sort of feathery thing Anders does, for some reason. He makes a lot of jokes, including ones at his own expense, and it reminds me of awakening Anders - perhaps something to ease the tension, to make himself seem less threatening in eyes of the templars, just a silly little mage, yk. But also he is very much threatening, he throws fireballs at people and trying to show off this his spells. He really is dealing with years of complex circle trauma and it's not easy to shake it off. WoT2 also suggest that he was from a rich or even noble family, but refuses to speak about it - and considering he doesn't have any family name listed, maybe they disinherited him on the spot when he became a mage. Just another point of connection with Trevelyan, as they might even be from the same social circles before the Circle of magi.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition multiplayer #my meta #i love those silly mages too much

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savingthrcw · 8 months

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@freedcmscall continuing from this

"Hey, could've been worse. You could've been the idiot who supported the Circle and the Templars like Yours Truly here did." Served them well that she had become so influential after severing her bond with them.

But she was glad she could always have a laugh with Anders - after walking away from most of her friends, after losing her magic, Neria had been distant. Her actions were, of course, still always aimed to help, and she was there for others if they needed a hand, but she wasn't as ready to have conversations, or let them be there for her. Her only explanation for not having magic had been 'I lost it, it's gone' and then having a few drinks with Oghren to deal. And then there was Anders. Anders, and moments like this, that made her want to leave her shell for a little.

"Okay... I'm so sorry for what's about to happen, Anders, truly, but... I'm going to have to be serious with you for a minute, no jokes, no evading. And I suck at it, so let's try to make this quick and painless, alright? I'll just say the thing and move on."

She took a deep breath, and then actually put a hand over Anders' shoulder to face him and let him see that she meant her words: "I am going to find your phylactery, and I'm going to destroy it. But before that happens, and after that happens... you are a Warden. So you are never, ever, going back to the Circle. We are not going to betray our own. And when I die, Alistair will be the one in charge, and he feels the exact same way. If they try to take you by force they know damn well it will mean war with the Grey Wardens, but considering that I helped everyone I met ever since I left the Circle, and people know this, and hundreds have watched me kill an Archdemon and still hail me when I walk into any Ferelden city... I don't think they can afford that anymore. Now, feel free to insult the Chantry and this whole stupid system as much as you want... but I want to hear it from me, at least once, that I am never going to give you up and you don't need to be afraid you'll actually go back. You are one of us, you are not a Circle mage anymore. And they can choke on that." Had they not been so busy running around over this new threat, she'd have already pulled a Duncan and walked into the Circle Tower to demand the blood. "Understood?"

#went straight into feelsy territory with this one lol but then they know each other and he's a companion and here at a vulnerable time so #also yes sorry I wrote a lot but I had to set the context because I never had to think of Neria in awakening in rp terms #freedcmscall #muse: neria #show: dao #neria thread;#lay low

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alistairssock · 9 months

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Neria is so funny bcz she took one look at Leliana and was like wow babygirl you are batshit off the rails insane, wanna join my merry band of delinquents? Only to later get all silly and mushy when Leli attempted A Flirt by complimenting her so untrusted crow's nest of a hair. Weirdos find a way (love edition)

Like Neria's not particularly religious by any means. She grew up in a mostly human-dominated village, tho be it a fair amount of diversity depite the size of it. Not many years later she gets sent to the Circle after her magic manifesting. Then at some point decided there are no gods of any shape or form or culture, or else they'd interfere by now and she wouldn't be there.

Lived a good chunk of her life with unprocessed trauma prior Circle life, in addition to Circle trauma as well. Got snatched up by Duncan as soon as the whole Situation with Jowan happened, and in her grief and hurt, she had no hesitation of getting out of there. Ideally Jowan had come along with her. And Anders (but she knew he'd manage somehow, his atrocities to authority were always a bit...more delicately handled than Jowan's stunt).

Somber and with a head buzzing like a thousand bees she followed Duncan all the way to Ostagar. There she met Alistair, who she found both peculiar and refreshingly earnest. The two bonded quickly and she found comfort in his presence, despite the hurdle that kickstarted their adventures together. She had insisted they both drank their share at the same time during the Joining ritual (despite Duncan protesting a little, he allowed them both a shot each).

Not long after, they stumbled across this Very Devout murder nun. Neria had come by crazier, but was wary a good while while travelling. Suspicion didn't exactly lessen when the met Zevran. But he was somewhat easier to accept. Had he tried to kill them? Yes. But was he a fanatically devout believer in this Shem god? No.

Soon after Morrigan joined the team and at that point Neria was just so accustomed to her outcast traveling companions, that a bog witch was nothing. She seemed nice enough, y'kno. Despite her hissing cat behaviour. Nothing she couldn't get used to.

For a while, it was only the five of them on the road. And it was nice. Depite the challenges. Despite the impending looming shadow that followed them, whispering at every convince that the world might end. The damn Blight.

Aside from that tho, Neria had never felt more free and at peace with herself. It was a learning curve, but she was finally allowed to figure more out of who she was as an individual. It was refreshing and new and exciting and wild and scary, all the same. If it wasn't for the stakes at hand, she'd prefer not to wear Warden outfits 24/7, but part of her also enjoyed the familiar uniformity. It was the only comforting memory from the Circle.

Neria picked up Leliana trying to flirt and hint that she had feelings for her. Not that it was anything new to her. She had had a few lovers back in the Tower, even multiple at the same time. Surprising how little the Templars guarding them payed attention at times, and it worked in her favour.

Leliana was a bit diffrent tho. Something she couldn't pinpoint drew her to her, and it didn't help she had a wonderful singing voice. And of course she was pretty too. Carried herself with such elegance and grace she'd only see in cats. And yet she knew what she was capable of, and that intrigued her no less.

It wasn't until they were about to enter Orzammar, and Leliana started babbling about her love for Nugs, that Neria had a few bangs of epiphanies. These budding feelings were real and they were about to spring into full bloom if she wasn't tactful. At the same time she didn't know why she was so hesitant. The rouge clearly had some feelings for her, and it wasn't like they hadn't had some vaguley romantic moments now and then.

But it was kinda hard too. Doing all this political stuff she was practically just flung into, and then supposed to make a relationship flourish. For a long time she didn't know how to do that. Until she brought back a Nug to camp and held it up to Leliana, and Leli leaned in to kiss it but crashed and the nut leaped out of her arms and her lips...met Neria's. That's when the deal was sealed. She was in love and so was her crush and it all just kinda flooded over her like a bucket of cold water. She allowed the kiss to last as long as it needed, before Leliana pulled back flustered and bewildered. The kiss had been nice, but it also caused Neria to bail and overthink things for a week in the Dwarven tunnels.

#been bleseed w DA oc brainrot gotta ride that high #neria #oc ramblings #idk where I was going with this #and now I ran out of juice #but hey #have some lore I guess

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platoniccereal · 1 year

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NO grey wardens did nothing to ser pounce-a-lot. NO surana especially didn't do anything!! anders left and pounce-a-lot remained in amaranthine with surana and she's been taking care of him ever since, both of them patiently waiting if their old friend ever comes back!! and if it's never supposed to happen then the staff and the hero of ferelden herself will forever lovingly and patiently take care of ser pounce-a-lot!! but still, they're waiting.

#dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age awakening #oc: neria surana #anders dragon age #my post

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inquisimer · 2 months

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the wounds never close

for @febuwhump day 17, "hostage situations" - when Anders is captured by the Templars, Hawke offers another in his place.

read it on ao3 here

Female Surana & Anders, Female Hawke/Anders | Rated T | 1599 words | CW: physical abuse, blood & injury, imprisonment, unhealthy relationships, Tranquility

Anders wasn’t sure how long he’d been their captive. By some miracle he still had his mind, and as they dragged him up from the darkest depths of the Gallows he cataloged every ache, every abuse, every pain. They would fuel his fight for justice once Hawke negotiated his release.

“I’ll remember, I’ll remember,” he muttered, over and over again. He hoped the promise reached the ears of his fellow captives, somehow.

Kirkwall’s blazing sunlight burned harsh against his skin. He squinted on reflex, blinking rapidly until he properly saw the scene laid out before them.

On one side, the Knight Commander, flanked by her second and a squadron of Templars. A few paces across, Hawke, flanked by Sebastian and a particularly murderous looking Fenris. At her feet lay Neria, half-conscious with hands and wrists bound with rough rope. Her head lolled to the side as Hawke pressed a boot to her prone figure. Anders saw a trail of fresh blood trickling from her temple, and the bright red of a new bruise at the base of her neck.

No, Maker, no—not her—

He had been walking placidly, letting his captors guide his weak body along, but now he dug his heels into the cobblestone grooves. He ground his teeth and strained against the surprise that had the Templars’ metal grip clenching around his arm. A horrid screech echoed off the high walls of this prison as they resorted to simply dragging him forward. The terrible scraping drew the attention of the entire stand off and Anders hated the relief he saw in Hawke’s eyes when they landed on him.

What was she doing? Why was Neria here? Like that?

You know why, his thoughts whispered. Energy rippled, just below his skin, ready and waiting to be tapped. They would never see it coming. They didn’t know his full potential—

No. Anders shook his head sharply at himself. That was not the way, not like Ella, not when there were so many innocent apprentices and mages in the crossfire. Hawke must have a better plan; he had to trust her.

“Here is your mage, Serah Hawke.” His captors shoved him forward and the Knight Commander’s disdainful gaze followed his stumbling. “Intact, as promised.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” With a rogue’s touch, his shackles fell away. Mari ran her hands up the length of his arms, held her fingers against the jumping pulse in his neck, and finally buried them in his hair, thumbs ghosting over his sunken cheeks.

“You’re alive,” she breathed.

“I’ll be fine. Maybe. I think. How are we getting out of here, Mari?” He glanced at Neria, her lips half-parted around a moan as she shifted against her bindings. “What is going on with this?”

“Do you trust me?”

Anders hesitated, even though he knew he shouldn’t; Mari had pulled his ass out of the fire more times than he could count. But nothing short of outright grabbing his hand and running would have soothed his nerves in this moment. And running just wasn’t Mari’s style. Not when there was an angle to be played.

“Of course.” He managed a thin grimace that might have been a smile if it hadn’t hurt so much. With a fleeting kiss to the corner of his mouth, Mari stepped back. Her hands slid down to Anders’ wrists and used them as leverage to throw him behind her.

“Fenris?” Anders tasted more than felt the grapple Fenris clasped him in as the lyrium brands flared to life and his grip turned to iron. He dragged Anders back a few paces as Mari kicked Neria’s body forward. She flopped across the stone and landed, arms splayed, at the Knight Commander’s feet.

“Another in exchange,” Mari said. “As agreed. I believe she’ll be of particular interest to your Knight Captain.”

Anders had just the briefest moment to scream; when he opened his mouth, a gloved hand took the place of his anguish and what should have been a soul-rending wail muffled harmlessly against the leather.

What was she doing?

Cracks of blue rippled from his fingertips up to the corners of his eyes. Sebastian angled himself between Anders and the Templars, effectively blocking their view, though his own gaze stayed sharply on Hawke. Any hope Anders had of a better plan evaporated; she had planned this. She brought the two of them, on purpose, for this.

“Neria!” he screamed, but nothing escaped the gag of Fenris’ hand.

“Silence,” the elf hissed in his ear. “You are lucky she even dreamt up such a plan. Do not prove your foolishness by squandering it.”

Lucky? His vision went white. Yes, he was lucky, wasn’t he—hadn’t he always been? Kinloch was such a nice Circle; he was lucky no one there raped or brutalized him. Mages in the Wardens were free; he was lucky to have the choice to be Tainted instead of Tranquil or dead. And now, this.

Lucky? He was cursed.

Only one thing kept Justice in check, a half-baked plan already formed in the back of Anders’ mind. The underwater tunnel from the Gallows to Darktown was still active; if Mari went through with this, he could still get Neria out. He could get her out and they could run, together again.

But if they identified her—if they knew how long she’d been free—

She’d be branded before he had the chance.

“Is that so?” Meredith glanced between Neria and her Knight Captain. “Is this true, Cullen? Why would a mage be of interest to you?”

Anders held his breath. He and Neria had shared many a disdainful conversation about what the pretty-boy recruit she’d flirted with had become. But perhaps there was a shred of dignity left…? He had to know what would become of her if he revealed what he knew.

Foolishly, Anders thought that might still matter. How hard it was not to hope, so desperately, that there would be a way out of this. Even when he knew better.

“She was of the Ferelden Circle, Knight Commander.” The Knight Captain removed his helmet and tucked it under one arm, stepping forward for a better angle. “She is not just an apostate, but an escaped apostate.”

“How long ago?”

“Nearly a decade.”

“An unfortunately long time,” said Meredith, drawing her sword. She drove it down, unceremoniously, through one of Neria’s upturned palms. She barely reacted to what should have been searing, burning pain. Just a whimper passed her lips, drowned out by the chorus of hastily hushed gasps from the mages watching. Only her eyes moved with any awareness, darting between the Knight Commander and Knight Captain, to Hawke, and finally locking on Anders, still straining against Fenris’ hold. Within them, panic. Panic, and a horribly, dreadfully clear awareness. She knew what was happening, he realized. She knew what was happening and they’d robbed her of any way to stop it.

What did you do to her? Anders glanced desperately at Mari’s profile. What have you done for me?

“She could still be possessed,” Meredith was saying. “Perhaps by a demon too clever to respond to brute force. A decade, you say? And from Kinloch. Tsk. Well, that’s more than enough exposure to warrant the order. You there—“ she snapped her fingers at one of the faceless Templars. “Take this mage and follow the Knight Captain. Assist with preparations for the Rite.”

“NO!” The last, fraying cable of Anders’ hold snapped. For once, he did not resist as Justice rose to the surface; whatever happened could not be worse than losing his best friend to Tranquility.

Blue light poured from him like a righteous font. His eyes burned with the electricity of it. He felt the scrambling of Fenris attempting to recover the grapple as one might feel an annoying gnat in their ear. Arcane energy gathered about his mind and blasted out, clearing both the elf and Sebastian from the vicinity.

“You will not take her,” Justice roared. He swept Anders’ staff in a wide arc and the lesser Templars fell back under the blaze of his holy fire. He advanced on the solid wall of the Knight Commander & Captain’s locked shields, burning fiery righteousness.

A blade in his shoulder—he staggered.

Quick and light, Mari followed the path of the dagger she’d thrown. Her hand closed around the hilt and she pulled it out, mindless of how his blood spattered across her angry face.

“Go away, Justice,” she snapped. “You’re not wanted here. Or needed.”

“I am needed wherever Injustice reigns. You would give over this mage to a foul and corrupt system, sentence her to certain Tranquility—“

“To save Anders,” Mari hissed. Justice blocked one of her strikes, but her offhand dagger drove up under his guard, digging deep into the fleshy, vulnerable skin of his gut. “Yes, I would. A thousand times over, if I had to.”

As she pulled her dagger out again, a ripple of energy emanated from the Knight Commander and echoed across the Gallows. Justice fell to his knees as the Purge took hold. For a moment, his eyes were brown.

“It’s for you, Anders,” she whispered, lifting her dagger over his head. “I’m doing this for you.”

“Don’t.” Voice scraped raw, breathless. “Mari, don’t—“

She brought the dagger down, hilt first, driving it hard enough against his temple that he crumpled, unconscious. Sheathing her blade on a shaky exhale, Mari gestured to Fenris and Sebastian.

“You’ll understand,” she whispered, for her own sake at this point. “It was the only way.”

#febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday17 #my writing #dragon age #dragon age fanfic #dragon age 2 #da2 #anders #oc: neria surana lavellan #oc: mari hawke #mari x anders #ws: the ties we choose #whump #angst #hurt no comfort #tranquil!neria au

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hexxalite-hecate · 2 years

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I fucking love Origins Inquisitors and you will pry this concept from my cold, dead claws. Behold; Neria Surana!

Close friends with Amaranthe Amell, who was conscripted by the Wardens and went on to become to Hero of Ferelden, Neria survived the fall of Kinloch Hold by escaping with Anders and swimming Lake Calenhad to safety. Anders went his own way, but Neria stumbled upon the Dalish in the Brecilian Forest, who took her in as their own. She continued her training under Lanaya, the clan's First. She and Amaranthe reunited (with much squealing and cuddling) when the Wardens approached the clan with their aid treaties for the Blight.

Ten years down the line, Lanaya (now Keeper) sends Neria (now her First) to represent the Dalish at the Conclave, as their clan lands are suffering from the endless conflicts of the mage/templar war. Except... oopsie!

She's gonna tear Solas to shreds I can't wait

#why is she so stinkin CUTE tho #neria surana #surana #inquisitor #inquisitor surana #warden inquisitor #dragon age #dragon age origins #dao #dragon age inquisition #dai #solavellan

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heplev · 10 days

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Überlebende stellen sich ihrem Trauma am Ort des Hamas-Massakers beim Musikfestival

Die, die dem Gemetzel an 364 Menschen am 7. Oktober beim Supernova-Festival entgingen, besuchen den Ort, um Abschluss, Unterstützung durch andere zu finden, die dort waren oder sich für ihr Überleben zu bedanken. Times of Israel, 15. April 2024 Neria Goelman und Hannah Zedek, die beide dem blutigen Hamas-Terrorangriff auf das Musikfestival im südlichen Israel vor sechs Monaten entkamen, fanden…

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#Gaza-Krieg #Terroropfer

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serpentinegraphite · 1 year

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Tagged by @arielmagicesi to do the “Ten First Lines” post meme

Rules: Share the first lines of your (up to) ten most recent fanfics.

I take forever to publish anything so this is kind of all over the place lmfao

1. The trailer is hot and muggy and miserable. ("Insomnia," Max Mayfield character study, ST)

2. When Neria hears "blood mage," shamefully, her first thought isn't hope but anger. Which of Uldred's bastards slipped through my fingers? ("Reflection," DAO, the jowanmance fic)

3. A Harrington shows up on Wayne's doorstep a few days after Dustin stopped him in the gym. Wayne's never seen the kid, but he looks just like his father and Wayne knows there's a Harrington about Eddie's age, because Eddie had sworn about him after school enough times. ("Post-Credits," Wayne POV post-s4, ST)

4. Erik smells the herb before he sees it; he's used to spotting it dried in back alley stalls, hidden behind wares so the guards don't see it as they pass, not hanging free and open where anyone could find it a short walk into the Manglegrove. ("Getting Cobblestoned," DQXI)

5. May had arrived hard and fast; little shoots of grass and flowers beginning to spring up. Jack had space for maybe one more cold snap to remind the kids he was there before he was going to have to switch hemispheres or flee to Canada for the season. ("Hold Onto Me As We Go," ROTG)

6. Sheba wakes up on Idejima drifting at sea, before Felix does. ("Isaac, Are You Listening?" Golden Sun)

7. Fenris prefers not to cross paths with Anders or Merrill when he can avoid it, but Anders is in the area, fighting… honestly, Fenris didn’t bother to ask who or what he was after, he just knows that there is a fight to be had, and after the day Fenris has been through, losing the trail of a group of Tevene slavers, he is in a mood. ("Sympathy," DA2)

uhhhhhh tagging whoever hasn't done it and wants to?

#about me #all of these are under prettypriestess on ao3 bc I'm just realizing I don't actually link it anywhere visible on my blog

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