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eliphasgraham · 1 year

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Im thinking a lot about those intimacy moments before the whole earring proposal thing like they don't have the words to describe why they like being so close and they don't have the time to think about it because of the fucking BLIGHT so it's like so pure and instinctive.

Im about to cry over an elf version of puss in boots i-

#i like how my warden is like 20 in origins but i draw him very dilf coded #dragon age #dragon age origins #dwarf warden #warden brosca #zevwarden #zevran x m!warden #zevran arainai

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jadewing-realms · 1 year

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Playing Origins again so obviously I'm back on my zevwarden bs

#dragon age #dragon age origins #zevran x m!warden #zevran x warden #zevran x surana #zevran arainai #zevran romance #zevran x salem #salem surana #i need to draw salem more often honestly #why is zevs tattoo hard to get right tho #its so simple #maybe i just suck at straight curvy lines #myart #dao #zevwarden

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icy-warden · 6 months

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ZevWarden Week 2023 Day2: Secrets, Kept and Told

“So… blood magic.” Zevran’s voice is soft but his eyes are not. Vergil lazily blinks at him, sipping at his drink.

“Mind control. Is it possible?”

“Have you ever done that?”

An unspoken question is what Vergil hears in between the lines. He unhurriedly swallows the mouthful of wine, a pleasant glide of dry sweetness in his throat and closes his eyes. His knee touches Zevran’s thigh when he shifts, their sides plastered to each other. He can feel Zevran’s ribcage expand and collapse as he’s breathing. Vergil rests his chin on his shoulder, lips ghosting over the skin of his neck.

“Would you like to see for yourself?”

He quietly delights in the shudder his murmur elicits, hiding his dark chuckle in the warmth of Zevran’s collarbone. The hand on his side tightens, bringing him closer.

Not away.

Ah.

Interesting. Quite a marvel, his crow.

So brave. So curious.

“You’d like that?” He whispers along his ear, teeth grazing his pulse point, “Be on my mercy, entirely, as you’re not able to move, to scream without my permission? Surrender yourself and trust that your mind is still your own after I’m done with you?”

Zevran’s throat moves under his lips as he swallows, “That’s a little bit... disturbing.”

“It is, isn’t it.” Vergil leans away, hearing the slight shudder of Zevran’s breath when he does so. Still, Zevran holds his gaze, squeezing back when Vergil lets their fingers intertwine. His thumb brushes the delicate skin of Zevran’s wrist, feeling the bumpy lines of thin veins. Feeling the rush of blood just under the pad of his finger, silent call of life begging to be used as he sees fit. It would be easy to fall for the allure it offers. It would be easy to take and take and take. To take and manipulate.

It would be easy. The power rush, the thrill, the pleasure.

It is a path he doesn’t want to follow. Not with how twisted it can become. So easily.

He still remembers the screams of mages who were tortured under Uldred. Jerky movements of those under influence of the mind control, their faces contorted into a grimace as they followed the orders of their master. Glassy looks when their puppet strings have been cut. Living corpses without souls left behind, their minds destroyed beyond recognition. Sacrifices, for the better good.

“The yoke must be released, whatever the cost.”

He would never risk Zevran’s mind to be violated like that. Not by his hand. Not by anyone’s hand. Not until he still is by his side.

“I hate to disappoint, but no.” Vergil murmurs, watching Zevran’s eyes gleam under the candle light. “It’s too dangerous to just plunge into one’s mind without damage. I had no time to experiment and I do not wish to. It’s just… too much, even if I’m curious how it works.”

For a few heartbeats, Vergil doesn’t move, maintaining some space between them. His shoulders lose some tension when Zevran flips their hands, draping himself over Vergil’s side. The touch is relaxed and welcome.

“So,” Zevran says, tone low, “it’s still the good old rope that comes to play when I’d wish to be under your utter mercy?”

Vergil briefly closes his eyes, tilting his head back when Zevran kisses a spot under his jaw, a hint of tongue only warning before his lips close over the skin and suck. He can’t help his next words be a little breathy.

“If you wish so, yes.”

There are also a few spells that can be handy, ones that he finds himself to be eager to discuss with Zevran some time soon.

#ZevWarden Week 2023 #fanfic #secrets #ZevWarden #Zevran x m!Warden #Zevran x Surana #blood magic #drinking #Vergil Surana #WardenTxt #Grey Warden #Dragon Age

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antivan-beau · 6 months

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candied orange peels ch 2 - ghosts

Zevran/Male Surana, M, 5263 words

"It's funny," Edric mused, "for almost all of my life, I’d watch storms from the Tower imagining what it'd be like to be outside. And now being indoors while it's raining feels like a luxury." Zevran pressed a lingering kiss against his neck. "One it would be foolish to take for granted, hmm?" That was enough to shake Edric from his thoughts and stir something in the pit of his stomach. Mornings with a real bed, no obligations, and deafening rain were rare. The feeling of Zevran’s skin against his own soothed an ache he'd tried to ignore during his lover's absence. It was easy to miss him. But, well. Missing him was the problem. Where did you go? Edric gently pulled away, turning back towards the bed. "Not right now," was all he could say.

Read on AO3.

For Zevwarden Week 2023 - Day 2: “Secrets, Kept and Told.” @zevraholics

The follow-up conversation to a missing scene/fix-it fic I wrote ages ago where Zevran and Taliesen meet up in Denerim and talk about a few things, rather than have their first encounter be the ambush in the alleyway.

Edric and Zevran finally get to talk through some things, too.

#zevwarden week 2023 #zevran x m!warden #zevran x surana #fanfic #secrets #my fic #edric surana #zevran

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disturbedbutgorgeous · 2 years

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Late as always but I wanted to try @zevraholics ZevWarden Week 2022 as I'm dry of inspiration and prompts of my fave ships are exactly what I need rn. 👌 Posting a WIP in case I never end up finishing it.

Day 2 prompt: "Gold/trinkets". Zevran and my warden Lucien having fun in someone else's a treasure room.

#zev is meant to be holding the One Ring coz I'm in a LOTR phase #dragon age #zevwarden week 2022 #zevwarden #dragon age zevran #dragon age origins #zevran x m!warden #wip #dragon age warden #grey warden #elf #elves #oc #my art #art #zevran arainai #dragon age fanart #zevwarden week

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bumblerhizal-art · 2 years

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Zevwarden Week 2022 Day 6: Death

Novhen’s life was on the line when he met Zevran. It follows that his life would have to once again be in Zev’s hands for him to begin to trust him.

Or: The Groundwork for their Approaching Relationship

(The last speech bubble is supposed to be Novhen. I am just only now realizing it's not perfectly clear, but it's too late to go back and rearrange it.)

#zevwarden week 2022 #zevwarden #zevran x m!warden #zevran x tabris #fanart #comics #death #pre-relationship #novhen tabris #zevran arainai #anyway i spent 19hr on this canvas apparently so i hope it's half as good as it was in my head please enjoy

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darethshirl · 2 years

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Entry for zevwarden week (@zevraholics), Zevran/Male!Mahariel, 760 words

Day 1: Culture

—

Mahariel fell in love with the sea from the moment he first saw it.

It was obvious in his expression, in his posture. Even when Zevran urged him forward through their linked hands Mahariel always paused to stare out at the horizon, his dark eyes wide and searching. It didn’t matter if the sea was calm or frothing with waves, if it shone blue under the morning sun or if it was painted the indigo-black of midnight. He was spellbound each time, drinking in his fill as the water stretched out infinitely from side to side to meet the sky.

Right now Mahariel was once again gazing at the far distance, his feet caressed by the waves. Zevran had brought them both to the swimming hole he’d used to frequent as a child, a tucked-away cove known only to the locals too poor to travel far. It looked nothing like the beautiful coastlines Antiva was famous for, with their azure waters and sandy beaches. This place was wilder, rawer, with black rocks and pebbles rather than sand and sheer, sharp cliffs hugging the shore. Still, the water was warm, and the currents safe. The sea welcomed them both, as if they were always meant to be there.

Zevran stretched his pleasantly tired muscles—swimming was more of a workout than he remembered, his body moving in ways he wasn’t used to anymore—and breathed in deeply. The approaching evening leached out the late summer heat, and Zevran felt his wet skin pebble from the chill.

“Ready to leave, mi amor?” he called out.

“In a minute,” Mahariel said absentmindedly, without even turning around. He was standing completely still, backlit by the sunset, his long hair out of his usual ponytail and plastered down his back. It was a beguiling sight, Zevran freely admitted… but perhaps not one worthy of catching a cold over.

With a fond chuckle, he came closer and hugged Mahariel from behind. “Such adoration for the world’s cruelest mistress,” Zevran teased. “It’s almost enough to make a man jealous.”

Mahariel huffed a laugh, reaching up to loosely hold Zevran’s arm. “As if you could get rid of me that easily.”

What a thought. Zevran hid his smile against Mahariel’s shoulder, tasted the salt of his skin as he pressed a kiss there. He gazed at the dying sun sinking into the sea, the bright crimson disk painting the sky in pinks and mauves.

“I didn’t think you’d love this place so much,” he mused out loud, without exactly meaning to.

It was this of all things that made Mahariel react, turning his head with a slight frown on his face. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, you’re a child of the forest, are you not? I figured your clan would always have the first place in your heart.”

“It does,” Mahariel agreed, with all the confidence of someone who knows is loved, who will always have a family to return to. “And we’ll return there eventually. But there’s no rush, not now that they’re all safe.” He turned back to look at the sea, his face calm and relaxed. “I like Antiva,” he added decisively, the words as simple and honest as ever. “It’s… bright.”

“Any place would be brighter than Ferelden,” Zevran joked, but privately he felt inordinately pleased by the compliment. He never realised how much he’d wanted Mahariel to approve of his birthplace, how a worry he didn’t even know he was carrying was now lifted. “But on behalf of all Antivan citizens everywhere, I accept your compliment.”

Mahariel hummed, his mouth curling up in a smile. “Perhaps we could stay here longer.”

“Oh?” Zevran felt his heart beat faster, a warmth spreading through his body. “You mean longer than we already planned to?”

“Sure. Like for a year or two? And then we’ll see.” Mahariel squeezed Zevran’s arm, then caught his palm and kissed it. “I think it will be good for us.”

“Yes,” Zevran said, not even bothering to hide his grin. He’d already noticed how well Mahariel fitted in, with his brown skin and black hair, as they walked down Antiva’s streets. Even his vallaslin weren’t recognisable this far north, the designs too different from the local customs. Without his warden armor he looked like any other normal person, living a peaceful, uneventful life. “Yes, I think so too.”

Mahariel turned to embrace him properly, his eyes dancing with joy. “So. Have we reached the end of all the secret places you wanted to show me?”

“Fear not, amor,” Zevran laughed, so happy he could burst. “We’ve barely scratched the surface.”

#zevran arainai #zevran x warden #zevran x mahariel #dragon age #dragon age origins #zevwarden week 2022 #fanfic #zevran x m!warden

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salaisi · 2 years

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Zevran: "Happy anniversary!"

Hurme: "It is not our anniversary, though?"

Zevran: "Not for the wedding, no. But it was ten years ago today when we met."

Hurme: "Oh? Isn't that a little bit odd thing to celebrate?"

Zevran: "Maybe, but it was certainly memorable."

Hurme: "Hah ha! True enough."

Zevran: "And to be perfectly honest, I am reminiscing more than celebrating. So much has happened that it feels like a lifetime ago."

Hurme: "I see. - But you are still happy with how everything worked out, right? No regrets?"

Zevran: "Of course. And that feeling is mutual, yes?"

Hurme: "Absolutely."

ZevWarden week - Seasons

I was thinking this from seasons, or time, passing by approach.

#zevwarden week 2022 #fanart #seasons #zevran x m!warden #zevran x mahariel #this is my last entry for this years zevwarden week #this was my first year participating #it has been really fun to see everyone's works through the week! 💖#also thank you to zevraholics for organizing the event!#dragon age #da:o #zevran arainai #hurme mahariel #zevwarden

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periwinkle-warden · 2 years

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Zevwarden Week 2022 Day 2: Gold

Zevran x male Surana

@zevraholics

Eirian sat in his lover's lap, gazing into his eyes. A blissful, sleepy smile on his face, his eyes just a bit foggy.

The liquor was getting to him.

"Enjoying the view, querido?"

Zevran leaned in to kiss his mage, the taste of peach brandy still fresh on their tongues.

He giggled in delight, nuzzling Zevran and leaning up to kiss his ear, the one pierced with his favorite earring.

"You're made of gold." He whispered, fondness in his voice.

"Am I now?" He quirked an eyebrow, lazily tracing a finger along the tattoos on the Warden's face.

"You are! Your hair, your eyes, your jewelry," he gently rested his head on Zevran's chest "and your heart…"

Zevran stiffened, going quiet for a moment before letting out a laugh.

"Are you usually so saccharine when drunk?"

Eirian didn't answer, already asleep on the other elf's chest.

#zevwarden week 2022 #fanfic #zevran x m!warden #gold #zevran arainai #zevwarden #eirian surana #not too happy with this cuz i had more elaborate stuff in mind that i couldn't execute properly or finish in time #this was originally going to be about Zevran stealing Eirian's phylactery for him

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trans-ruffboi · 2 years

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A Hundred Days, Just Like This

everybody listen to A Hundred Days by the Bengsons

282 words

Zevran wasn't doing anything special; just sharpening a blade next to him. And maybe all these sharp objects so close to his torso should worry him, but then Zevran bit his lip a little and sat in such a way that the fire shined off him just so.

He was so beautiful sometimes that Renlin thought he might cry for it. Beautiful and shining and golden. And he got to have him, as long as Zevran let him.

"And why are you grinning at me so, Warden? Have I done something so dastardly?" Zevran was smiling at him; he loved it when Zevran smiled, sarcastic or anything. Anything for that sharp little glance of teeth, that laugh. Absolutely perfect, in every way.

He leaned over, a little close to the knife Zevran was still sharpening, but what did that matter, really? If he got cut he could fix it, and nothing like that was anywhere close to making it not worth it. He turned his face into Zevran's neck, where he was sharp and gleaming gold and utterly perfect.

He muttered into the juncture of Zevran's neck and shoulder, laying a brief kiss onto the mark he still saw from a night ago first. "I want a hundred days, just like this."

He got a laugh for it, like a bright light, just for him. "Just like this, Warden? With the darkspawn and the Blight at all corners?"

"If you were there? Yeah. Yeah, just like this." And maybe his voice still caught to say it, but he wanted to say it. He had to.

He meant it. Any amount of darkspawn was worth being out here, in the light, with Zevran.

#zevran arainai #zevran x m!warden #zevran x surana #renlin surana #dragon age origins #dragon age fic #my writing #dragon age #zevwarden #mzevwarden #zevran x male surana

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eliphasgraham · 1 year

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✨ Romance ✨

#i tried to do something cute and i got a little carried away lol #dragon age #dragon age origins #dwarf warden #warden brosca #zevran x m!warden #zevran x brosca #zevran arainai #alistair theirin #morrigan #leliana #wynne dragon age #shale dragon age #sten #oghren #mabari

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jadewing-realms · 2 years

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zevwarden week 2022 - day 2

Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins

Title: ZevWarden Week, Day 2 - Gold

Pairing: Zevran x male!Warden; Zevran Arainai x Salem Surana (x Leliana, poly!Warden referenced)

Word Count: 1,368

Crows have garnered a rather unfairly bad reputation. Not Antivan Crows, of course; actual crows. Black birds too commonly seen as frightening, intimidating, dark, mysterious bearers of bad omens. Zevran finds it funny, how many would say the same thing about the Warden.

_______________

There was something incredibly satisfying about knowing a secret that few others were privy to. It created moments in which Zevran would hear others talking about the subject of said secrets, trading wildly inaccurate information none the wiser, and he’d be left to smirk to himself, knowing he and he alone knew the truth. It fell along the same veins as his previous work, being a spy and an infiltrator, pilfering and safeguarding sensitive truths like a little hoard all his own. Except these secrets meant so much more than those ones did. These were secrets no amount of gold could ever buy.

For each secret about the last Grey Warden was a little treasure, and Zevran cherished them all. Much in the same way that Salem himself cherished the things he collected - though that hoard was much more... eclectic.

Zevran once thought he knew Crows. Knew why the assassins’ guild had chosen that name - because a flock of crows was called a Murder, of course. And such a dramatic irony could never be ignored. Crows were omens of ill-fortune, thieves and scavengers. It had seemed accurate.

At least, until he got to know Salem Surana.

It had started small, in their world-saving days, whenever they’d make camp in the wilds, dodging enemies from all sides. In those short times of peace amidst war, there’d be moments. Moments where Zevran would find Salem sitting across from a particular tree as if conversing, only to spot a single black bird in the branches. The next time Zevran would find him, there’d be more.

It never stopped, even after the conflict had ended. Despite aiding Alistair as an advisor, Salem rarely spent more time than necessary in the capitol. He wanted to keep traveling, he said, and Zevran and Leliana were free to join him if and when they wished. So they did, and along the way, others joined them, this time not to fight great evil, but to simply... be. Salem welcomed those who wished to experience the land, the wilds, and as much as they were able, magic.

And every step of the way, Salem was constantly befriending crows. He had a way with them that Zevran could only marvel at - though, considering how thoroughly the mage had Zev wrapped around his finger, perhaps he shouldn’t have been so surprised.

In the same way that Salem gave offerings of wayfaring freedom to the curious and open of mind, he gave things to the crows he met. Little things, seemingly random things. Nuts, berries, rocks. Keys, coins, bits of string, broken jewelry, scraps of metal or brightly colored fabric.

In kind, they brought him things in return, mostly of a similar ilk. On occasion, they’d deliver startlingly valuable items - whole gold pieces, scrolls, a wand once. However, most of the time, the crows brought things that had very little worth in the grand scheme of things, but made for a fabulous amount of odd and endearing clutter. He kept them all. Zevran never saw him throw a single crow’s gift away.

When the earring Zev gifted him became a permanent fixture on his ear, that really should have been the first sign.

By the time the little troupe decided to make a more permanent encampment in the wilds, under Salem’s guidance, Zevran had begun taking inspiration from the crows in his own gifting practices. He let his whims guide him, and anything that caught his attention for no good reason - anything shiny or strange or just plain fun - would immediately be purchased. Or pocketed, depending.

Then, Zevran would wait until a particularly good moment to give it. Once, it was when Salem returned from a stint to the capitol for a noble function; he returned exhausted and frustrated with court complexities, and Zevran distracted him with a well-timed kiss and a pretty little brooch he’d picked up from a village bazaar. Another time, they were both covered in blood, as they usually were after a darkspawn encounter. Zev had decided to provide levity to the moment by handing over a metal contraption he was fairly certain was a chastity cage, though it was pitifully small and dangerously rusted from its time in the riverbank he’d found it on, which was where he’d attracted the attention of the darkspawn in the first place. Salem had nearly died laughing, and Zev considered it a job well done.

Their tent back home had, in a comparatively short time, become a veritable dragon’s hoard of knickknacks and trinkets that made no sense being together, yet looked incongruously fabulous all piled up, hanging off cords and chains on the tent posts or old nets strung between them. It was rattling, glittering chaos... but it was Salem’s chaos. A crow’s chaos.

Funny how the Grey Warden was as much a crow as Zev had once been, but in an entirely different way.

Because Salem befriending crows meant Zevran got to know them too. He soon found them a much more heartwarming subject than he thought they would be. They were incredibly intelligent, but terribly distractable. Deeply curious, but comically cautious. They were organized, had families and scouts and distinct ways of communicating the approach of a friend or foe, danger or celebration. They remembered well those who were kind to them, and even better those who were not. They held grudges for generations, and funerals for their dead.

Spending time with the crows soon became spending time with Salem. Learning more of those secrets Zevran held in such esteem. Some of them even secrets he might have dared to exploit not too long ego; now, he saw them for the treasure they are.

“It’s a shame,” Salem said once, breaking off crusts of bread to toss to the local murder, “that so few understand crows as they are. In the Circle, they were simply... foreboding signs. Harbingers of misfortune. It’s unfair, really.”

“Hm.” Zevran sat back, leaning his palms into the dry grass. His gaze scanned the many, many crows surrounding them, some simply watching, others swooping in and out to fetch the bread. A few hung comfortably close, hopping up to them for pets and scritches before bounding away again. “Well, there is something to be said for an imposing reputation. It keeps the less savory types at bay.”

Salem’s face twisted, silver-grey eyes narrowing at the middle distance, a clear look of doubt. “Not really... in fact, I think it makes the less savory the only ones who will give the birds a chance. Which in turn just reenforces their reputation as evil, because they’re spending time with the selfish or dangerous or deadly, and it’s just...” He trailed off, hand tucking under his ashen hair to rub the back of his neck, as if he’d realized he was rambling. “...a whole misfortunate thing.”

“True enough.” Zev turned a smirk to his partner. “I suppose that makes us quite the wicked pair, ah?”

He realized then that what he just said was far more true than he meant it.

Salem seemed to pick up on that right away, smirking back. “A renegade Circle mage turned to blood magic, tainted with darkspawn blood, and a wanted assassin from the slums of Antiva on the run from a deadly mercenary guild? Whatever do you mean, ‘wicked’?”

After that, Salem had surprised Zevran with a gift for once. An earring. Not a match to his own, but a spiritual companion to that gift. Not a particularly beautiful one either, but something unique. An unrefined amber stone set in a pendant of gold covered in a handsome tarnish. Salem said he found the pendant at a merchant’s estate sale, sans gem, and that the hunt for the latter had spanned several different cities and countless pawn shops and ultimately, it had been a crow that brought him the amber. A unique gift, a gift with thought. One that Zevran gladly accepted. Along with the kisses that followed.

In a way, he realized both of them shared a kinship with the crows. Both ostracized for reputations outside their control. Both far kinder, warmer, more affectionate than most would ever think.

And all of them greatly fond of trinkets.