#teenage inquisitor

[midmorninggrey]

Banters between Dorian Pavus and Celeste Trevelyan, the Herald of Andraste.

Celeste: Uh. Dorian. How do you sleep at night?

Dorian: Rather poorly, if you must know. The thing they've put on my bed and called a mattress is stuffed with actual horsehair.

Celeste: No. I mean, like, after what we saw.

Dorian: Oh. That.

Dorian: That I drown in copious amounts of drink. I'm afraid I can't recommend it to someone of your delicate age.

Celeste: I don’t like the taste anyway.

Dorian: Herald, after you summon up your charming friends, have you ever considered putting a damper on your mana surge?

Celeste: No.

Dorian: I thought as much. Your ricochet is easy enough for me to counter, obviously, but it does become tedious to untangle our spells after every volley.

Celeste: Um. You could stand farther away.

Dorian: Ah. Brilliant solution.

Celeste: My mom died fighting Darkspawn.

Dorian: Yes, I’d heard that. I’m very sorry.

Celeste: I mean, I’m really sorry about Felix. I liked him.

Dorian: Thank you. I liked him too.

Celeste: Um. Dorian. I have a question – about magic.

Dorian: Lucky for you, here I am.

Celeste: Okay.

Dorian: What was your question?

Celeste: I was, like, thinking about the Anaxas Formula, and, like, the time thing, and I was wondering if a temporal rift could be used as kind of, like, a condenser for necrotic energy. Like, taking into account spiritual drift. And, uh, do you think that could be contained with a modified barrier?

Dorian: The Anaxas Formula? Don’t tell me you’ve been basing your spells off of that old gem.

Celeste: It works.

Dorian: Yes, I suppose, if your goal is to perform Nevarran parlor tricks.

Dorian: Remind me to show you a diagram of the Vadis theory when we return to Skyhold. It’s far more comprehensive.

[bishicat]

a couple's stroll... 7 years later 😳

[jessicas-pi]

I did another "pick a fic snippet" poll, and the results are in! Therefore, and without further ado, I present a snippet of the next fic in the Teenage Rebellion AU!

~~~~~

Wren took his hands in hers and squeezed them gently, looking at him with painful pity.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look awful right now.”

“You don’t. You look like a goddess.” He curled his knees up to his chest and bowed his head, resting his forehead on her knuckles. “I’ll worship you, if you’ll let me, Wren.”

She huffed. “Now you’re just being dramatic.”

“No, I’m not. I think I worship you already. You’ll be my patron goddess. The shadows—the shadows have claws, sometimes. You’ll protect me, won’t you?”

“Did you hit your head when you fell off the roof?” she demanded, ignoring his perfectly reasonable question. “Because if you did, the last thing I am letting you do is go to sleep right now. Do you have a concussion?”

“No.” He laughed miserably. “I’m so tired, Wren. Maybe I’m insane.”

He didn’t look up at her, but he could feel her presence tense in suspicion.

“Youngest Brother,” she said, full-naming him authoritatively like First Sister did sometimes. “How many days has it been since you slept?”

“I dunno. Five and a half. No, six. Six and a half days. Or maybe just six. I—I can’t remember. It doesn’t matter, does it?”

Wren didn’t answer him. She just gently pushed him down to lie on his side, after a moment’s pause, and smoothed the blanket over him again. Then, she knelt down beside him, clutching one of his hands in hers.

“I’m going to stay right here,” she told him firmly, even as she slipped her hand out of his and ran it tenderly through his hair. “And I’m not moving until you’re asleep.”

“Won’t you?” he yawned, blinking as his vision blurred briefly. “That’s nice.”

“You’re welcome,” Wren smiled, knowing what he meant even if he hadn’t thanked her aloud. She was divine, like that. “Now, go to sleep.”

“I’ll try. I think—I can, here. It’s so quiet. Not like in Headquarters.” He shuddered. “I can hear them crying in Headquarters.”

Wren’s tender hair-stoking ceased as she went still, and he tilted his head forward, pressing into her touch so she would keep going.

“You can hear… crying?”

“The girl. Fifth Brother brought her. And a baby. I can hear them crying in the night. They’re going to be broken. It—it hurts to be broken.” He nudged her hand with his head again. “Don’t stop. I liked that.”

“Is that why you can’t sleep?”

“I wasn’t sleeping b’fore then. But I was trying not to. Now I wan’to, an’—I can’t.”

“You will now.” Wren sounded shaky, a little, as she said it, but his faith in her didn’t waver. If she said so, it was true. “Shut your eyes. Just rest.”

“I love you.”

“Shh.”

“Marry me?”

“Go to sleep, Youngest Brother.”

“But—”

“Go. To. Sleep.”

[dragonpyre]

Inquisitor!Cal for @wrencatte's fic series he ain't heavy....

Commission info / ko-fi

[collophora]

colored some sketches

Umbarian: Magendi riss Inquisitor: Brother Capdeth (Not sure abt this one)

[vodkacheesefries]

Give! Bellara! A! Griffon!

[lelianasbong]

okay in order to avoid getting seduced by sera or josephine, i'm going to have to play this inquisitor as the straightest straight woman who's ever straighted. if she is even a little bit bicurious i will immediately succumb. she LOVES the men and only the men. she's not thinking about the alluring swell of sera's hips or her soft inviting pillowy lips or the way her voice drops when she says honey tongue. unlike me

[disastertriowriting]

@clonefandomevents

Here's our fill for the square "lies". :)

Anika Fell with the fall of the Jedi. She may be an Inquisitor now, from reluctance to leave the Empire along with her former master, but that has not lessened her attachment to the clones.

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

Out of curiosity (certainly not for any, possibly art related, reason) how tall is Maera?

<3 ok you would not know how often over the past 5 years I think about what my good answer for this is... you would not believe the way I have looked at pediatric growth percentile charts and at people's theories of the heights of characters (bc the in-game models vary between cut-scenes, gameplay, and heights given in supplementary media) Uhm. relatively, not quite to Cassandra's shoulder but a bit taller than Varric... which I put at like.... 4'10" ish- 5 ftish I think she is pre-growth spurt .... but artistically I just kind of do whatever for the vibes bc if gravity falls or batman etc can stylize like 12 year olds that small I can do whatever I want too with my vaguely 10/11 yo

[tapir-boy]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: The Veilguard (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Inquisitor & Rook (Dragon Age), Inquisitor & Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Lace Harding & Rook, Lace Harding & Inquisitor Characters: Lace Harding, Rook (Dragon Age), Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Emmrich Volkarin, Lucanis Dellamorte, Morrigan (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: featuring mentions of my half-finished dai rewrites, technically pre-relationship for rook/emmrich/lucanis but its not relevant, Inquisitor is Possessed (Dragon Age), Inquisitor Hawke (Dragon Age), religious horror of the inquisition, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Inquisitor Has a Mabari (Dragon Age), Angst, Dwarf Rook (Dragon Age), Mourn Watcher Rook (Dragon Age), Nonbinary Rook (Dragon Age), Adopted Sibling Relationship, between the inkys Series: Part 6 of ingellvar, last of their name (dav) Summary:

Rook is summoned to meet with Morrigan, and with one of the great heroes of the age. Harding finds out her fondness of the Inquisition is not universally shared.

[musewrangler]

Obi Wan heard Owen's rifle fire though he didn’t turn to look.

He kept his full attention on the five individuals before him. He could sense their dark torment, but he could not stay his hand in sympathy at what had caused their turn.

Luke’s life was on the line. Owen and Beru as well. They would be mercilessly slaughtered, and Luke would either be killed with them or he would be taken to a worse fate, just as his father had been.

“Kenobi,” laughed the leader. “We shall be doubly rewarded then when we present your head to His Majesty.”

Obi-Wan watched all the red blades ignite and he held the gaze of the leader.

“Sidious does not give rewards,” he said. “He gives only pain and death.”

“Which we get to deliver,” stated one of the women. The Third Sister, Obi-Wan saw. “You got away last time, Kenobi. And all to guard the spawn of Anakin Skywalker.”

“He is dead,” Obi-Wan said, flicking his own blue blade on. “But yes, I will protect the boy.”

[jessicas-pi]

sorry y'all, it's taking me so so long to finish the TRAU fic, here have a snippet of it while you wait

---

First Sister was the right hand of Lord Vader himself and had more influence than even the Grand Inquisitor, and yet here she was, hurling herself around the struts of a skyscraper-in-construction, trying to catch a teenager who had suddenly regressed to the immaturity of a five-year-old.

This was embarrassing.

The wind whistled fiercely up here, biting through even the insulated uniform she wore and giving her goosebumps as she followed Youngest Brother out onto the thin strut. She spread her arms out for balance as an especially hard gust of wind made the entire structure creak and twist.

Steadying herself, First Sister hollered, “I’m not kidding, Youngest Brother! Get back here right now!”

“Come and get me,” he taunted, sauntering backwards ahead of her, as if he wasn’t balancing on a strip of durasteel two inches wide with a hundred foot drop beneath him.

“You had better believe I will!”

“No, you won’t!” He reached the other end of the strut, alighting on the thicker beam, and crossed his arms stubbornly. “And I won’t be attending that preposterous ball!”

First Sister calculated the distance between the far strut and her position. Youngest Brother’s presence was bursting with overconfidence that she couldn’t make the jump.

She made the jump.

With one hand, First Sister snagged the supporting upright beam beside him, to keep her balance, and with the other hand, she grabbed him by the scruff of his coat.

“Yes, you will,” she told him. “And you’re going to stop this ridiculous—HEY!”

Youngest Brother unzipped his coat and dropped out of it, catching himself on the beams a story below with a mocking jeer.

“Tough luck, Sister!”

First Sister wasted no time jumping down after him, but he was already running off down the beam.

Maybe it was time to try another tactic.

“You know, when I was your age, I loved parties!” she coaxed, following him slowly as he began to ascend once more.

“Then you were strange.” Youngest Brother swung from a beam like a gymnast, flipping around to crouch atop it.

Well, fine. She’d just keep chasing him then.

“I refuse to be dressed up like a doll—” He jumped higher, still one pace ahead of First Sister, ascending another level. “I refuse to wear that silly outfit—”

“I guess that’s fair,” First Sister muttered, crouching and then leaping up two levels, swinging herself to balance beside him on the bar and making a grab for his arm. Youngest Brother saw it coming and sprung, sailing through the air over a wide gap in the beams—it seemed this level of the building would have some kind of a large rotunda—and landing with a little wobble on the other side.

“—I refuse to do the ISB’s job for them, and above all, I refuse to go to Leia Organa’s masquerade ball!” he shouted across the gap, raising his voice so she could hear him over the whipping wind that howled even louder at this elevation.

[attractthecrows]

wish games would let you choose an age range. im tired of making a character that's like a 34 year old Dad or a woman in her 50s, and then getting to a cutscene, wherein the game informs me that No, You're Twenty, Actually

[depmode]

i wanna talk about my rook so im just gonna cringe is dead etc. storytime: That Time Rook Thought Maybe Andraste Was His Mom.

sasha experiences occasional visual/auditory hallucinations. they are usually very mundane and a lot of the time the voice/person isn't focused on him but more like he is an observer. growing up in the necropolis he was poked and tested and it was concluded that it's not spirits, probably, who knows. it just happens. he figured out from a young age that it was not "normal" bc if he mentioned anything about it grown ups would ask if that was his imaginary friend.

one day, he's at whatever the Chantry version of Bible Study is. lots of kids gathered around on the storytime carpet to learn about The Chant. he has a general idea of it but he's 4. he doesn't care. so he is listening to a chantry sister telling a peppy kid friendly version of a story about Andraste and mentions that she would be blessed by visions and dreams and the voice of the Maker. cue record scratch moment in tiny sasha's brain.

he stands up and excitedly tells (yells at) the chantry sister that he's like Andraste. of course she is bewildered and attempts to move things along. this is not going to happen. now this poor sister is trying to deal with a loud, hyped up 4 year old insisting that he hears voices and sees things too and wow!!! what do you think it means?? could he be related to her?? (honestly sasha didn't care if the voice was the Maker, he was just jazzed to find somebody else Like Him)

a guardian from the necropolis is tasked with dealing with That. the revered mother is brought in. it's a whole kurfluffle that likely took several years off the lives of a few very pious and sensitive sisters. it was two or three days before he was convinced, though for a long time he didn't understand why, exactly, it was different. only that it was.

sasha will tell this as a funny childhood story. the mourn watchers recall it fondly now. but in reality, loudly insisting to a group of your peers that you are like the most holy figure in thedas because you hallucinate isn't great. especially when you were already regarded as kind of a freak. but that doesn't ever need to be part of the story.

[oceansssblue]

Reva x Omega?? Like....a fluffy thing with them meeting as teenagers?

Thaaatttt orrrrr Feemor x Jaster Merrell also an absolute otp of mine

Okaaaay... I literally had to search some names up cause I honestly couldn't remember xD

Timeline doesn't quite match if you think about it but don't! Just don't think! It's quite short, but I hope u enjoy it :)

Xx,

Blue.

"TEMPTATIVE SMILES" – REVA X OMEGA 💖

WARNINGS: sort of anger issues, otherwise fluff.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Take me with you" Reeva almost demands.

The sight of such conviction and fierceness brings out a tiny amused smile on his master's wrinkled face. He's fond of her padawan; but oh, she still needs to work on the art of patience.

"You are not ready" he gently replies, tucking his com inside his robes again, hands coming up to take hold of the girl's shoulders.

Reeva clenches her jaw. She's tired of hearing that.

"I am never going to be if you never allow me to go with you" she bites back, her facial expression and tone perhaps too harsh for a girl her age. "I could always stay in the last lines. Or wait for you in the ship, at least. I'll learn about strategies that way".

Her master shakes his head. He has already taken his decision; nothing Reeva says will persuade him. Sometimes the young Jedi wishes he'd be more open-minded. She has the feeling he doesn't really listen to her half the time. She fears he will always see her like a kid; opinions unvalid. She is not. And she's smart. And right.

"You will stay in Kamino" her master answers, tone final. "You are too eager to jump into battle, young padawan. Jedi's are not people of violence. We are not an army. Our focus should always be on preserving the fragile piece and balance that holds the galaxy together".

Say that to those who suffers. Say that to the slaves that will never be freed without help, to those who die of hunger, to the civilizations destroyed by a bigger power. Reeva wants to scream. They could make a different. Jedis are powerfull; they could make a change in so many people if only they weren't so obstinate to remain as second line diplomats. Why do they even learn to fight with lightsabers if they're never going to actually fight? Why... Why is she not allowed to try to make a change?

"I am tired of staying behind" she mutters, a deep frown on her young face.

Her master gently pats the teenager's shoulders.

"I know, Reeva. You will be a Jedi Knight one day" he reminds her, perhaps trying to cheer her up. As if she had ever forgotten... It's everything she wishes for. "Til then, you'll have to trust me and do as a I say".

He pats her one more time, and then dissapears in the impecable white corridors of kamino. She's suddenly left alone in their shared room; alone with her furstrations, her anger. She feels it flowing inside of her, and she tries to push it down as hard as she can, but it's futile. Her hands shake, her teeth grinding against each other, and she feels as if it's going to devour her until she's nothing more than pieces.

It surges out like an explosion; and Reeva throws her lightsaber against the wall with all her strength, an enraged scream tearing through her throat. The saber drops to the floor with another metal clank; fortunately unscathed. She had built it to resist worse conditions than that.

The sounds, though, attract the attention of a small figure wondering through the corridor; and Reeva suddenly catches a mop of blond hair with the corner of her eyes.

"Who are you?" She directly asks, turning towards the intruder.

The girl's eyes widen; not expecting to be caught so fast. Reeva breathes out, trying to regain some sort of control, and watches the scrawny kid hesitantly stepping in, a small friendly smile on her tanned face. Her bronze skin tone is a nice contrast with her blond hair.

"Uh, hi!" The girl greets her, adding a wave that Reeva can only describe as akward. "I'm Omega. I'm one of Nala-Se's asistant!"

Reeva stares back at her. That's not the sort of explanation she was waiting for...

"Oh, ah" she seems to realise it as well, smiling guiltily, balancing her weight on her talons and tiptoes repetitively. "I heard a scream and some banging and I went to check if everything was alright 'round here. Why were you so angry?"

Reeva can't even begin to feel irritated with the genuine, innocent, friendly expresion on the girl's face. This... Omega, must be only a few years younger than herself. They have completely different personalities, though; that much is clear.

"My master decided to leave me behind" she answers, short.

The blond fills with excitement at that.

"Oh, you're a Jedi! I've never actually met a Jedi before!"

Her golden brown gaze flickers all over Reeva's body, almost as if she's trying to find proof, find why she's so different; and the young padawan can't help but flush slightly. Thank god there's no one here to see that...

Omega seems to catch onto her discomfort; as she grins and continues talking.

"Well, I think it's only normal to be a little angry about it. I'd be too if I had the chance to explore the galaxy and were left behind!"

Reeva doesn't even know how she does it; but this girl, Omega, continues speaking with her and suddenly the young Jedi looses track of time, quietly enjoying the blond's bubblier personality. Surprisingly, she isn't irritated by it; but endeared. She's cute, this girl. And she's got...

"Pretty hair" she hums, thoughtfully, carefully holding a strand in between her fingertips.

Soft, too.

"Oh" this time is Omega's time to blush, though it's much more noticable in her skin that Reeva's. "Thank you! You are pretty too!"

The blond's eyes widen upon realising what she had just said; and Reeva is delighted just watching her try to backtrack and pull herself out of it.

"A-ah, pretty hair, too, I mean!"

The young padawan chuckles, releasing the strand of hair and giving the blond some space to collect herself. She shoots a smile at her, letting Omega know everything's okay; and the kid shows her a temptative smile back.

Reeva feels surprisingly relaxed now. Perhaps staying back in Kamino wouldn't be such a torture.

THE END.

[rikki-roses]

Fluffy February Day 15: Craft

SWTOR

Time period: during the 5-year period that Setra is in Carbonite

Location: Dromund Kaas

I've written a fair bit about Setra's art, so here's some fluff for Kevra's knitting!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kevra scowled as she spotted the hole four rows back; she was going to have to frog her work to fix it again. She must have made a noise; Nico, now three, dropped his toy and toddled over to Kevra's spot on the couch.

"Mommy, up!"

He barely gave her any time before tugging at her robes, his emerald green eyes looking up hopefully. Kevra sighed; she swore her son had inherited her sister's eyes over her own, despite Andronikos insisting that she and her twin had the same.

"Nico, dove, let me fix this section first, then I'll take a break and we can cuddle, okay? This is for your sweater, remember?"

The toddler completely ignored her as he climbed up her legs and forced himself in between Kevra and her yarn. Once satisfied and secure in his mother's lap, he gave her a wide, toothy grin.

Kevra sighed and set aside her project, patting her son on the head, her fingers trailing through his red curls (another thing he had somehow inherited from his aunt rather than his parents; jealousy and grief fought for a second before she stamped them both out. Nico was far too young to understand the complicated emotions).

"Alright, little dove, you win. Do you want to watch something on the holonet, or do you want me to read one of your books?"

The little boy shook his head (whole body, really) vigorously. "No mommy, yarn!"

A small part of Kevra died inside as he grabbed her current project, tiny hands barely holding it as he mashed the yarn and needles together, threatening to drop the needles and lose his mother's current place. Kevra had to spend several minutes gingerly prying the half-made sweater from her son's hands without doing any damage to either the yarn or the child.

"Nico, dove, careful! This isn't a toy."

The toddler bobbed his head. "I know! Mommy, make!"

Kevra successfully reclaimed her knitting project, hugging her son to distract him.

"What, do you want me to knit and cuddle at the same time? It's going to be boring and uncomfortable for you."

In true toddler fashion, Nico didn't care; he simply giggled and buried his face into his mother's robes.

Kevra sighed again, but adjusted both her son and her knitting project so that she could hold him comfortably as she worked, her arms at a slightly uncomfortable angle. She did want to get the sweater done; the sooner she finished, the longer Nico would be able to wear it before outgrowing it.

By the time she had to stop knitting to get dinner going, Nico had passed out completely; she carried her son back to his room so that he could nap.

He was able to wear the sweater for three months before it became too small for him.