#ourinquisitorialness

[raartblog]

OC Kiss week day 2! Dropping down a kiss for @ourinquisitorialness's lovely Aristide.

[lorspolairepeluche]

3 and/or 4 from the OC codex prompts? For anybody you like (:

3) a report written by your OC’s teacher or mentor

4) a letter from your OC to their love interest

oc codex prompts (with help from @nadas-dirthalen's veilguard codex tutorial)

[sketchyelvenasss]

🌱💐 for Azlo?? I need to know moar

Thank you so much for the ask! 💜

🌱 Was Rook involved romantically with anyone before Veilguard? What was their partner like? How did the relationship end?

Maybe it is a little cliche, but technically he was involved with many people and they all ended the same way, with him killing his “partner”. Even from a young age he was naturally charismatic so the crows honed it to be used as a weapon. It’s why he flits without thinking about it. Meet them, be charming, get in close, do what had to be done to get their trust, then at the best moment strike.

Fortunately he had never needed to sleep with a target before, he would have without a second thought, but I believe he'd be more messed up if he did. And for once I guess I’m being benevolent to one of my children.

Still his overall experience with relationships has been shallow and completely physical. The level of joy he gets when he experiences a relationship with emotional attachment and non-sexual intimacy—🤯

💐 What is the relationship Rook has with their faction mentor? What was the moment they sent Rook away like?

Definitely complicated. They are only 4 years apart, but Azlo still sees Viago as somewhat of a parental figure. He looked to him for anything he needed, and he wanted to please him. To make him proud.

But as in game Vi is bad at expressing exactly when he is in fact happy or proud, particularly when it comes to Rook. So Azlo has constantly felt gaining his favor as an uphill battle. An achievable goal.

From Viago’s perspective Azlo reminds him of a more impulsive version of himself. That's the reason he may be a bit unfairly hard on him. Azlo is actually one of his favorite agents. He has to play the stern Talon, but he’s never been truly upset with Rook’s work.

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

3, 11, 12, and 24 from the Rook questions!

3. What was Rook’s life before their faction?

Rook’s story is, of course, that he was adopted as a baby by an Imperial Legion commander who found him on a battlefield near Ventus, moved around a lot, trained to fight and bothered everyone while doing it, worked as a bodyguard for Minrathous’s most elite courtesans in a high end pleasure house, then for a magister when one of the courtesans he protected inherited a Senate seat from an estranged uncle, and later joined the Shadow Dragons to make a difference. 

Which is, of course, complete and utter bullshit. Except for the bothering people, there's no version of this story where he isn't bothering people.

Now, Falx Verus Mercar was a guard at the Ivory Oasis for several years, and their most prominent courtesan, Silver, did through some inheritance fuckery from his maternal uncle become a magister around the time of the Exalted Council, and he did bring his dear and trusted friend Mercar with him as his personal bodyguard. But Falx Verus Mercar himself is a fiction, and didn’t exist at all until about a decade ago, when he needed a new name and cover story for what this snarky long-haired beardy guy was doing in Minrathous when noted scoundrel and infamous frumentarius - a spy, saboteur, fixer, thug, slave hunter, general doer of dirty work for the magister who employed him, basically his job was to make his boss's problems disappear and be a problem to everyone else - Rexus Leventis had long since been presumed dead. Coming back gave him a chance to start over, and the new name and new story let him do the real work he came back to do - use the skills and knowledge gained in his youth to help Silver help people escape slavery, and grow into a better person himself - unbothered. Mostly.

11. Does Rook keep up with current events? (How aware of the situation are they at the start of the game?)

He has a local ear to the ground, as one might expect, and is quite familiar with the Antaam invasions in the east since Silver's - sorry, Magister Sisenna's - holdings are near Carastes and he actually bothers taking care of the people he represents. Traveling with Varric got him up to speed on a lot of things going on outside Tevinter, but he usually has a pretty good idea of what's going on at any given time. He just likes to seem like he's completely oblivious because it annoys people.

12. Does Rook have any family? Do they keep in touch?

He's the firstborn son of a prominent Altus family, but his father disowned him when he failed to manifest magic. His mother hated his father, so she doted on him as best and as publicly as she could - it was at her suggestion that another magister (Rexus's father's best friend and his mother's longtime lover) agreed to employ Rexus as one of his frumentarii. He also has a golden child younger brother who everyone knows was born solely to replace him, and they've never liked each other. His father was among those assassinated when Rexus's last job went bad and ended with a lot of dead magisters, including his boss, and his mother went into hiding after that. He's not sure she's even still alive. His brother masterminded the whole thing to seize power in the Magisterium and remains there to this day. He's not Venatori, and does actively oppose them, but he's definitely not one of the good ones and would have Rexus killed on sight if he knew he'd survived.

So, yeah. They don't keep in touch.

24. Does Rook have any nightly rituals before bed?

He’s very much a "fall into bed face down, arms and legs out, stay there until morning" kind of guy. He’s at least let Silver prevail upon him to use a silk pillowcase for the sake of his hair. The one hygiene thing he's always been really fastidious about is taking care of his teeth, though, so he'll do that before bed if nothing else to have an excuse to see how long he can gargle something. And how long it will take before someone tells him to stop.

50 questions for Rook!

[goingtoweather]

10 from all three categories (past/present/future) for Lawrence and Ezra pretty please!

Thank yoooou!

What did they dream of doing when they grew up? How and why did it change, if it did?

Lawrence always had a hunger for academia and wanted to get a formal education. He was the only one in his family to go to university, and with the lure of Dartmouth College nearby(ish…) had decided that he wanted to become a physician as a young teen. He wanted to help people, sure, but he also admittedly had a hunger for prestige and that was the greater lure for his pursuing an education. His dream didn’t so much change as…he feels like his whole life recently burned down so now he has…no plan or dream. A whaleship was his substitute for pistol and ball.

Ezra always wanted to be a captain. He grew up in view of all the whale ships and would watch them in the harbor whilst sitting in his father’s woodshop. And his father would tell him stories about Black captains, men who started like them. That’s what Ezra wanted and still wants. He wants his own ship and the stability that comes with it. He joined a whaler at age 13 and grew up fast. He’s spent half his life trying to achieve that dream, and he feels so close to it there’s no other option but to reach for it.

What do they always carry with them and why?

Re: the above issue, Lawrence doesn’t carry anything with him from his shore life. He’s very unsentimental about it. But he’s a big diarist. So while the journal isn’t always physically on his person, he always brings it with him. And in his spare time he’s always writing in it. Observations. Feelings. Silly little plays and poems.

in contrast to Lawrence, Ezra keeps little pieces of home. Particularly his sister’s letters, now that she can write, and drawings she sends him. He asks her to draw the things she sees in her day to day, so it doubles as a memory of his family but also of New Bedford. He’s extremely sentimental but also extremely private and doesn’t share them with anyone. Those aren’t physically on his person, though. For things he physically carries with him, he has a scrimshaw’d tie pin that has a heart on it that he made. When his sister was younger, while he was home between voyages, he asked her to whisper a little good luck charm on it. So he wears it when he feels like he needs its protection. So there’s a lil detail to look out for in past chapters or future ones. (;

How do they want to be remembered after they die?

Lawrence would like to be remembered as a good man, that is all. In his present moment he doesn’t feel like much of one and doesn’t think such remembrances are in his cards. But later on in life he thinks he has the potential of living up to it.

Ezra wants someone to tell their kids stories about him like his father did with him. Not because he wants fame or status, but because he wants to be hope for other people that one can build the life they want for themselves, against all odds.

[focsle]

Poison, parachute, and shooting star for Neris please!!!

poison: vices/bad habits? what are they? how do they affect your OC? For all he tries to divorce himself from his upbringing of Knowledge at Whatever Cost and You Are Entitled To Everything, it’s still very much a part of him. He can be a bit of a brat, and can get uppity if he feels like someone is denying his access to something or is being demeaning to him. While it’s rarely triggered, he can have a vindictive streak and is a master of malicious noncompliance (which can be highly effective when used For Good, but he sometimes also uses it for petty sabotage). He also sometimes glosses over or downplays the harm someone else has done if the result is…something he finds incredibly impressive. He’s very conflicted about the Clockwork City for instance, being all like ‘Listen I know there’s a lot of horrible inequity and its citizens can’t ever leave and it’s all kind of fucked up—and it’s not something /I/ would ever make—but it’s also soooooooooooo……..cool and amazing….’ He can tap into (or fall into) a person he doesn’t actually want to be, if the circumstances prime him for it.

parachute: who does your OC(s) trust the most? who makes them feel safe? who would they do absolutely anything for?

Neris’s fatal flaw is he puts an incredible amount of trust in people in general, as a combination of his belief that most people are inherently decent and that if they aren’t, he’s Powerful and Untouchable anyway. It means he gets screwed over a lot. And it’s never a fool-me-once situation either. He’ll get screwed over multiple times because he always has this little thought of ‘well maybe they won’t do it again!’. It’s a wonder he’s survived himself. But he’s deeply loyal to his close friends and he would truly do anything for them. He’d compromise his morals, his security, even his life for them, if push came to shove. He’d do a lot for your Oorthak and Shadow!

shooting star: if your OC(s) could have one wish what would it be? God I feel like Neris would impulsively waste his wishes and waffle over having just one. Oh oh I wish I was a famous travelogue writer. OR I wish someone would write a song about me. Oh, no, I’d like to see an actual dwemer somehow. Wait, I wish for world peace where no one ever suffers anything ever again. Wait, I know, I wish my father would actually love me. Actually, I want to try a weird food from some plane of Oblivion and not have anything bad happen to my guts. I wish I could touch a dragon…like, an alive one. Nevermind, I want Divayth Fyr to see how smart and cool and talented I am and tell me so. I wish I had a pet chaurus that liked me and lived forever. I wish the Mages Guild would apologize for kicking me out and grovel at my feet for forgiveness just a little. I wish my brother was less of a prick. Oh oh oh I wish I’d never have to sleep again.

I think ultimately he’d just wish that the people he cared about were content. But it’d take a lot of scattered rambling desires to get to that point.

[gaysparkler]

Send this to all your favourite moots and pass the pumpkin round! KEEP THE PUMPKIN TRAIN GOING 🎃🖤🎃🖤🎃

WAAHHH thank you 🥺🖤🎃🧡

[sunshinemage]

OC Kiss Week incoming!

I'll be participating in this OC Kiss Week, following the prompts from this post (courtesy of @ockissweek) 💙

I'm going to do the same as last year, answer asks with little smoochy sketches, so don't hesitate to send your amazing OCs in my askbox with a prompt of your choice between the ones listed on the post (or if you have another idea in mind that doesn't fit any of the prompts, feel free to ask, of course)!

Prompts:

desperate

first

stolen

reunion

worship

forbidden

caught

Now, for the fun part! The actual OC Kiss Week runs from February 10th to February 16th, but I will be answering asks and doing sketches until then! When the actual week starts, I will be picking a random ask each day among the ones in my askbox and do a fully rendered piece for it ^^

Who will be doing the kissing? Well, let me introduce you!

Lelei Haurasha (Dragon Age: the Veilguard)

37, nonbinary (they/them), pansexual Lelei is a Dalish elf from the desert at the west of Orlais. They love exploring new places, especially if it involves tinkering with magical artifacts or discovering new species of plants. They're not the most talkative type, but they love listening to others, especially if they're rambling about something they're passionate about.

_

Nindarhmen Lavellan (Dragon Age: Inquisition)

28 (as of the events of Inquisition), male (he/him), bisexual Do I need to introduce him? Nin is a Dalish elf from the Free Marches. he's a well-spoken, kind and compassionate fire mage who probably has the biggest sweet tooth of all Thedas. He is working as Seneschal of Elvhen Affairs for his husband, Inquisitor Thalon Lavellan ( @ourinquisitorialness) and sometimes describes himself as a scholar.

_

Oya Cenric (Wayfarer IF)

32, nonbinary (they/them or she/her), grey asexual (as she says sometimes: 'romance is complicated, affection isn't'.) Oya is half-Aeda, originated from the Coveran Republic. They like peace, the sea, the blue hour before sunrise. She acts somewhat aloof, unless she knows you well.

_

Rinnariel Haurasha (Dragon Age: Inquisition)

28 (as of the events of Inquisition), female (she/her), bisexual Rinna is Nin's twin sister. She left clan Lavellan at 16 and became a Grey Warden under the orders of Warden Commander Telhara Surana ( @ourinquisitorialness). She is quiet, practical and straight to the point. She hides her playful side really well.

_

Feel free to borrow any of them for OC Kiss Week, and don't hesitate to ask me about them 🥰

[lindira]

OC Meme - Pa'ani "Rook" Aldwir

Nobody tagged me for this, but I saw other people doing it, so I just kinda yoinked it. *shrug*

General

Name: Pa'ani Aldwir

Alias: Rook, Parsnip, Ani

Gender: Cis Female

Age: 29-30 during events of Veilguard

Place of Birth: A Dalish encampment in the Free Marches, close to the Nevarra border

Spoken Languages: Trade, Elvhen, some Rivaini, eventually some Antivan

Sexual Orientation: Pansexual/Demisexual

Occupation: Veil Jumper, Dalish mage, Leader of the Veilguard

Favorites

Color: Purple and pink

Entertainment: Singing, playing the viola, reading, playing with Assan, teaching card games to Manfred, chatting with friends

Pastime: Figuring out music-based components of magic, figuring out ancient elven artifacts, traveling, trying new foods, cooking/baking, exploring old ruins, gardening, singing, playing the viola, cheating at card games

Food: Chocolate, pie, champorado, chicken adobo, paella

Drink: Coffee (with cream), hot chocolate, whatever the Thedas equivalent of a Midori Sour is

Books: Romance novels - especially ones by Varric, speculative fiction books, poetry collections

Have They…

Passed University: Pa'ani hasn't had a formal education. Her father is her clan's hahren/teacher and he taught her reading, writing, mathematics, world history, and world culture. She learned advanced magic and music from her clan's Keeper. So she's had a very well-rounded education.

Had Sex: Yes, though only a few times before she got together with Lucanis

Had Sex in Public: I don't imagine there was much privacy in Dalish camps, but the times Pa'ani had sex were as private as they could be.

Gotten Tattoos: She has vallaslin that she had altered from Ghilan'nain horns to wings when she learned from her explorations with the Veil Jumpers that they were once slave markings. On her right arm, she has a large tattoo of a floating ruin to represent Arlathan. On her left leg, she has another large series of tattoos that represent the travels she's taken. She adds more to it whenever a significant event happens in her life.

Gotten Piercings: Pa'ani has multiple ear piercings. She wants a nose ring but hasn't gotten around to getting it yet.

Gotten Scars: Many, many scars! Most of them are relatively small, but they're kind of inevitable when you fight as much as she does. Her biggest scars are the ones she got from an ogre while she was with Davrin in the Cauldron.

Had a Broken Heart: Not from a romantic relationship. Her heart broke when her mother died, though.

Been in Love: She thought she had been before Lucanis, but he was the first/only person she fell HARD for.

Are They…

A cuddler: Yes, absolutely. The more cuddles, the better.

Scared easily: Not really. She does get scared or grossed out, but she learned early on to take most of the threats of Thedas in stride.

Jealous easily: No. When she's with someone, she trusts them completely. Otherwise, she wouldn't be with them.

Trustworthy: Yes, you can trust Pa'ani with anything... unless you're playing cards with her, lol.

Family

Siblings: Pa'ani is an only child, but she thinks of Bellara like a sister.

Parents: Her father, Revasan, is still alive and with Pa'ani's clan in Rivain. Her mother, Atisha'ra, died when Pa'ani was 7.

Children: None, but she'd like to have them someday.

Pets: None at the moment, but she had a cat when she was a child. She would like to have at least one dog and one cat in the future. Or, maybe one of the griffons she gave to the Veil Jumpers, lol.

Tagging @ghostoftheyear, @ourinquisitorialness, @masterskywalkers, @silurisanguine, and anyone else who would like to do this!

[doriansbutt]

Righteous?

inspired by @ourinquisitorialness ‘s blighted inquisitor thoughts bc wow that’s so juicy how did I not think of that I love it oops

———————————

Dorian had already spent days in tears and fear and anguish. Now, all he felt was pure, righteous anger when he looked at his husband. The deep shadows under his amatus’s eyes only hidden by the sickly black ichor that covers his features…the red glow of his eyes… Dorian cannot do this again. Not again. The gods are going to pay for what they’ve done. If they are going to make him watch another loved one suffer like this, he is going to show them what it means to cross Dorian Pavus.

[gwynbleiddyn]

time is a tide that disobeys; part 2

oc kiss week 2025 prompt fill ft. Thalon Lavellan who belongs to the ever wonderful @ourinquisitorialness <3 thank you for letting me run riot with your son in the pursuit of Exploring Themes™

recommended listening:

loosely inspired by the 'worship' prompt because that's a doozy in and of itself, part 2 brings us to Skyhold, where judgement awaits. a direct sequel to part 1, where the days and weeks that follow Adamant begin to shape an unfortunate and long-standing reality -- that this will not be their story to tell.

-----

It doesn’t rain in Skyhold often, but when it does, it pours. 

The lifting summer air from the Hinterlands creeps upwards over the mountain, colliding with the sinking cold to call forth heavy grey clouds that burst as though pierced by the jagged offerings of the Frostbacks, and the deluge that follows is enough to harry most people indoors.

Except today. 

Today, the courtyard is full. Bodies stand shoulder to shoulder, faceless, indistinguishable to Rion where he stands, watching, waiting, from his spot on the wall overlooking Skyhold’s inner workings. There’s a restless ripple over the crowd, shuddering through the steady lavender tones that raindrops paint across Rion’s unique vision, his eyes working twice as hard to catch what his ears don’t. And as the restless hum widens from a dull grey into white, Rion knows they grow impatient.

As does he. 

His fingers drum idly on slick stone, hands free of heavy gloves and shoulders light with no armour to weigh him down, yet he still stands hunched - both against the rain and the shadow of Adamant, a memory that has yet to untangle itself from his waking thoughts. 

He grows impatient because beneath the steady downpour and roiling clouds, the crowds gather to watch Magister Livius Erimond pay his due. 

An empty, scarcely bloodied chopping block sits, lonely, on a dreary wooden stage down below. Erimond struggles in his restraints mere feet away from his end, a sole, looming guard his only company while they await the sword to carry out the sentence. 

The judgement had been rendered in flickering torchlight, amongst the scaffolding and skeleton of Skyhold’s throne room where the Inquisitor sat as judge and executioner, resolute. 

Rion had watched Thalon then with rapt, precise attention. He looked for every sign of conflict, a twitch of the hand or a sideways glance, anything that would give away a hint of uncertainty - enough that Rion would have used his voice as a counterweight to Thalon’s doubt, turned the tide, and placed the blame squarely on himself for the judgement. But in that hall, Thalon may as well have been a statue, caught forever in the shape of his brutal decree.

And Rion watches Thalon now, eyes fixed on his regal figure as he ascends the wooden steps with silent footfalls, the crowd’s murmur too strong for Rion to see any other sound. It isn’t a grand affair, they’d made sure of it; Erimond deserved the indignity of insignificance. It hadn’t taken Rion’s fit of rage and ruin to convince Thalon, either. The man’s fate was sealed the moment they stepped into Adamant and bore witness to the scale of his wrongs.

Words are spoken to the crowd, too far away and small for Rion to see. But Rion isn’t interested in words. He stares intensely, almost wiling Thalon to spare him a glance - just so he can see. Just so he can know that this is what he wants, and this is what he will do. And just before the Inquisitor turns to his duty, Thalon catches Rion’s eye at last, and Rion’s thundering heart slows with a sigh - relief. 

The sword does its work. The rippling hum begins to fade as Erimond’s body slumps to the wood, headless, no longer the centre of attention, and other matters of mundane means begin to fill the courtyard instead as Skyhold turns into another day. 

Rain pours, still. 

Droplets roll down the ridge of Rion’s nose, dripping down onto stone below. His hair lies flattened to his skull, his civilian attire near soaked through, and his usual vanity has tumbled from his list of priorities to lie in the muck and mud. All he has been able to think about for the last week is Adamant and its aftermath. 

My heart’s just angry, he’d told Nin. But that day, there had been a place for it. 

Today, there is room for reason. 

And reason tells him that this will be one of the nooses strung up on the gallows when the Inquisition ends. Erimond’s execution will sit at the receiving end of pointed, accusatory fingers in some far off future that Rion cannot see, but he knows it will come. They will point, they will cry, and they will call Thalon a murderer, a despot, Andraste’s herald turned zealot.

That is where his anger burns red-hot now, on this grey and dull day. 

Reverent green seeps into his vision, washing away the brown of the courtyard and turning his gaze to something kinder - Thalon, alone, approaching through the rain. His face softens as Rion turns to him, not quite a smile, but grim tenderness remains there in spite of what’s just transpired by his hand. 

“That was a cleaner cut than I would have given him,” Rion says, but his humour is hollow, carved out by something heavy. Thalon lets out a quiet hum of acknowledgement, gaze drifting to the courtyard below for a moment to see that it is nearly empty again. Erimond’s body has already been dutifully removed, but the spatter of crimson that decorates the wooden stage is a vibrant mark in an otherwise nondescript scene. 

It is surprisingly hard to look away from. But Thalon manages, after a moment, and his kind, grey eyes land on Rion.

“It had to be done. The Wardens…” he frowns, his thought left stranded in the damp air. Rion lifts a brow, plucking the thought to completion himself.

“...they would have kept him. Conscripted, probably. Too pragmatic to lose what pathetic little gain we could squeeze out of him, but that would have gone down poorly with the bastards who killed their friends under his spell. He wouldn’t have survived the first night before they tore him apart like a pack of wild dogs.” 

Rion grins, bitter and wild. A part of him would have relished the opportunity. 

“That, or he would have died in agony during the Joining.”

He turns to look back at Thalon, whose eyes are closed, and Rion knows he is resisting the image. Violence is never his first answer, and rarely is it his second or third either, but it is a language that comes all too easily to Rion’s hands. His shoulders sink with a gentle, quiet sigh, and he curls fingers around Thalon’s wrist, pulling him closer if he allows it.

“You did the right thing.” 

At that, Thalon’s pale stare is renewed, and he gives Rion the slightest of nods as a trembling breath leaves his lips. Uncertainty? Not quite. Something else. “I know. Thank you.” 

Thalon’s pulse thrums steady beneath Rion’s fingers at his wrist, and he slips his hand into Thalon’s own, squeezing. “I know you know, but I don’t believe you when you say it. What’s on your mind?” 

Rion knows he may as well ask him to pluck a grain of sand from an hourglass. Still, Thalon tries, his smile thin but appreciative nonetheless, and he returns the squeeze.

“I hardly enjoy playing the judge and jury to begin with, but this particular judgement sets a precedence, Rion. What comes after this? How far does the Inquisition reach, and to what end?” His shades of green grow a little more wilted by the word, like a great tree choked by the creeping doubt of ivy. Rion’s heart twists a little, caught on the hook of his own fears now echoed by Thalon, whose resolute spirit has kept him steady all this time in lockstep with Nin’s gentle fire. 

Unfortunately, doubt is a difficult weed to cut. It tangles and trips, and it has them bound on this precipice, on this wall overlooking the heart of the Inquisition, and the remnants of its latest bloody judgement laid clear for all to see. 

Thalon’s hand is less a gentle reassurance in this moment, and more a warning - if doubt thrives here, it will not just be one of them who tumbles from the tower.

Shaking his head free of that thought, Rion turns away from the wall, turning Thalon to face him too. The longer they stare at their choices, the harder it will get to look beyond them. 

What can he say? Rion knows in his heart that there is no end that any of them will walk away from, unscathed, unmarred, untouched by an image that is steadily being painted by the world as witness. It has already happened to him - the Hero of Ferelden fell long ago, and in his place is someone Rion doesn’t recognize, but the world does. 

He taps along Thalon’s knuckles with his thumb, as if he might find a response somewhere in the contours of skin and bone that he has come to know almost as entirely as his own. He wonders, briefly, would it would be like to step into Thalon’s skin, feel the weight that must be on his shoulders, see the world through his eyes… and listen. Would he hear the whispers in the hall? The accusations thrown across the Summer Bazaar of Val Royeaux? Where at least Rion can turn his eyes away, Thalon cannot. 

Another gentle squeeze of Rion’s fingers pulls him from his thoughts, his storm-laden gaze flitting upwards to Thalon.

“I don’t expect an answer, I just…” Thalon’s brow furrows again, words consistently - and uncharacteristically - eluding him. “It’s a strange feeling, to be so powerful and powerless at the same time.”

It’s a difficult notion to grapple with. Rion doesn’t really know where to begin with it - it’s not a problem he can attack with a sword or a well placed army, and there is nowhere on Thedas where he could keep Thalon safe from it either. Despite that thought, he moves so that he’s half sitting and half leaning back on the wall, and guides Thalon to stand in the gap between his knees, as if he could offer a moment of invulnerability with Rion between him and the rest of the world.

Just a moment.

“I wish I could give you that answer, but I’m not that clever and we both know it,” Rion offers a half-smile, hands resting at Thalon’s waist once he settles, fingers clutched tightly into the fabric of his coat. He waits until he sees a glimmer of a smile in return before he continues, reassured. “But I do know what I believe in, and who I believe in. I don’t paint you as Herald, as Lord Inquisitor, but I know that… in another time, someone else will think I did. I’ll be the tyrant swinging his sword, gutting his Wardens for a chance at life, and you’ll be the messiah that allowed it.”

Thalon winces, hands raised in complaint but Rion gently catches his left, the Anchor, and pulls it to his chest.

“But we aren’t that. What we are is Dalish,” even Rion surprises himself with that, “and we will tell the stories. There will always be people who tell the wrong one, but there will also be people telling the right one too. You know I don’t trust easy, but I trust Nin when he tells me that and I love him enough to believe it.”

A breath of relief fills his lungs as he feels Thalon’s hand at his face, thumb brushing the scars on his cheek. Rion grins up at him, leonine and proud, unable to hide his appreciation as Thalon opens his mouth to speak. “You are remarkably eloquent when you want to be.”

A sweet kiss follows, warm and comforting amidst the cold rain. There isn't much else to say, but a safe, unspoken understanding settles between them as Thalon presses his forehead to Rion's, laughing at the rain sliding down his nose. He sweeps it away with a thumb, brushes the edge of Rion's lower lip, and unknowingly anoints the Warden Commander into the belief that they will endure, one way or another.

Rion has no idea what true devotion feels like - faith has eluded him with each attempt to reach out and find it, both in Andraste, and in the Dalish gods whose colours left Rion wanting. Even now, scarred as he is by Elgar’nan’s rage, he longs for something gentler.

But he could breathe a little easier if devotion felt like this.

[lorspolairepeluche]

The Empress and The Emperor from those tarot asks, for Rio? 👀

The Empress: What does family mean for Rook?

Mum and Bae, but also Bae's clan, and also the hahren's crew, and also the Lords, and also now the Veilguard, they suppose! (To Rio, family is those who love, support, care for, and roast one another. They know, at least to some extent, how lucky they are to have found it in multiple places during their life, and they strive to show it to those who come to their family lonely.)

The Emperor: What does Rook's leadership style look like?

Uh, leadership? Not much of a leadership person, is Rio. But they'll make decisions, they'll carry them out, they'll think on their feet, and they'll take responsibility for their own actions. They'll check in on their friends, offer advice and help where they can and where it's wanted. Or just a drink or a joke. And if people look to them to do those things...well, that must be leadership, right? (unscientific aside: With six Rooks, leadership is shared between them, though Rio emerges as the "main" Rook due in part to their closer connection with Solas.)

tarot asks for rook

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

🍀🌼🪻 for Rexus??

🍀 Has Rook had any near-death experiences? What went through their mind during what they thought was going to be their final moments?

Rexus has a reputation for being impossible to kill precisely because he’s been in an unreasonable amount of situations that by any stretch of the imagination should have killed him. I’ll go into more detail on that in another answer because someone else asked this too, but the one that started it all was The Snake Bite. It happened in his bedroom when he was eleven and he is pretty sure it was arranged by his father to get rid of him. It bit his hand when he reached into a rucksack for something his father had told him to retrieve, and the venom quickly induced paralysis - he collapsed almost immediately, unable to move or cry out for help. All he could do was lay there, in unbearable pain but unable to scream, struggling to breathe, silently begging someone, anyone to find him, thinking to himself over and over again that he knew he was a disappointing and badly behaved son and a terrible brother, but whatever it was, whatever he’d done that was so bad he deserved this, he was sorry, he was so sorry, he was so sorry. His mother (his mother’s servant, but she wasn’t about to let him know that) found him just in time and he survived, but he’s been afraid of snakes ever since (not that he’ll ever admit it). The idea had been in the back of his head since it happened, but the look on his father’s face after he recovered reinforced the idea that he was disappointed he was still alive, and had meant for that snake to kill him. Rexus wasn’t sorry anymore after that, and never would be again.

🌼 If someone was to ask Spite what Rook smells like, what would he say?

Rexus was never really self-conscious about how he smelled until he lived with Silver, who’s quite the opposite and cares about how he smells a LOT, so he absolutely dreads the answer to this question because he’s pretty sure it’s going to be something like “Smells like. Ass. And mildew.” Really, it’s more like brine, and leather.

🪻 What is the most painful injury your Rook has received? How has it affected them once it healed/scarred?

That snake bite was pretty bad, but something I am planning for a later chapter in TSU is going to outdo it. Basically he’s going to get hit with a blood magic spell that will cause his bones to break and his muscles and tendons to tear from the inside, one at a time. And if that’s not bad enough, this is going to happen when he and Emma need to urgently escape somewhere and it would get to his heart and kill him if she just tried to carry him out and deal with it later, so she’ll have to heal him herself. Which is, due to the way she heals, even more painful. Like, months’ worth of repairing bone and tissue done in the space of a few minutes and every bit of pain that goes along with that all at once. A few minutes is a long, long time to hurt that much. He’s physically completely fine once it’s over, if not stronger than before, but it’s not something he remembers fondly. The conversation they have afterwards, yes, but not that.

Got any more?

[goldthorn-archive]

thought this could be fun and might get me to finish some more wips since my list keeps growing.

Send me a word, any word, and if it’s in one of my WIPs I’ll answer your ask with the sentence or line it appears in.

edit: ty @alienoresimagines i saw @majorbuckyegan rp of @ourinquisitorialness's original post w the ask game

[focsle]

Tagged by @ourinquisitorialness to make myself in this cute lil picrew.

My character design has gotten so boring since I’ve become too lazy to be a dandy on the daily. Now I’m just an ll bean boyfriend 24/7.

You can pretend I tagged you if u so desire.

[gaysparkler]

Breaking my Skyrim OCs out of the vault

I've been feeling so motivated by @ourinquisitorialness to finally share some stuff about my Skyrim OCs, so here we go!!! I've been playing since like 2020, went crazy in 2021 and finished my first game then. SO HERE THEY ARE!!!

Thele Nadunevanni

Dunmer, destruction mage, Dragonborn

(art by @rennybu 💕💕💕)

Thele, not being part of one of the Great Houses of Morrowind and showing great magical abilities, was encouraged by her parents to escape to the College of Winterhold so she would be safe and so she could continue her education without fear of being either forced into service of House Telvanni, or killed.

She travelled alone through Morrowind, to Cyrodiil, and into Skyrim, where the Stormcloaks hindered her passage into Skyrim and got her arrested. When Alduin attacks, she follows Hadvar - having now a disdain for the Stormcloaks because of their involvment in her arrest - and even after it is revealed that she is the Dragonborn, her main goal is still to reach the College.

Against all odds, she meets Hadvar again, and their reunion is sweeter than she expected it to be. What unfolds is a slow, tentative, and very caring relationship that can only truly begin once the Civil War and the dragon crisis are done.

Natheneth Fernhollow

Bosmer, stealth archer

(thank you Hero Forge)

Disclaimer: Natheneth is way less developed than Thele because I didn't play much with him AHGJDSH but here's the info I have about him.

Natheneth grew up in Valenwood, learning the craft of archery, how to make his own bows and arrows, and eventually joined a ship who needed a good marksman. He travelled the seas for some time, becoming attached to his fellow shipmates, until a nasty run-in with the Blood Horkers, who imprisoned most of the crew.

After his escape, he travels all over Skyrim, working for hire, joining the Thieves Guild. He eventually meets Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun, and becomes part of his retinue (and they perhaps, nay, definitively, kiss about it).

If you've read all of that, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I have so many Thele fics that I would love to share, if there are any interested parties on here ahghakjhgkdj these characters previously only existed in Word documents and Discord DMs so it's very exciting to talk about them now, some two-three years later 💜