That's a wrap, folks!
Thank you to everyone who participated in our inaugural Tranquil Week! It was wonderful seeing everyone's creations.
We hope you'll join us again if/when the event runs in the future!💙
One Nice Bug Per Day
AnasAbdin

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Andulka
Mike Driver
RMH
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

shark vs the universe

Kaledo Art
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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Not today Justin
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

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@tranquilweek
That's a wrap, folks!
Thank you to everyone who participated in our inaugural Tranquil Week! It was wonderful seeing everyone's creations.
We hope you'll join us again if/when the event runs in the future!💙
Long shot here, but were you folks planning on running another Tranquil Week this year?
Not a long shot at all! Last year did get away from us, but we are planning to run another Tranquil Week this coming August <3
Welcome to Tranquil Week!
Join us for a week dedicated to exploring the Tranquil characters from Dragon Age!
To participate, create a fanwork (art, writing, podfic, moodboard, etc.) that features a canon Tranquil character (list here!) or a Tranquil OC. Then post your work here on Tumblr from August 25th - August 31st and tag @tranquilweek so that we can reblog your post. If you have a question that isn't answered in this post, send us an ask!
Optional Prompts
image description in alt ID || text version of prompts under the cut ⬇️
You are welcome to follow our daily prompts, but it's not required! As long as your creation features a Tranquil character and follows our guidelines, we'll reblog it here.
Submitted creations must adhere to the tagging requirements detailed below and in the post here. Creations that are improperly or inadequately tagged will NOT be promoted on this blog.
This event is not a moral statement about the Rite of Tranquility. Exploring darker or potentially triggering content in fiction is not an endorsement of that content in real life. Tranquility is an element in Dragon Age canon and this event will not pass judgment on how participants choose to explore Tranquility in their works.
That being said, this event will not tolerate or promote:
May or may not be running again this year, so remember to check the profile to be sure!
we'll be running again this year! prompts to be announced soon (:
in the suffering
I fell behind yesterday, but I'm back with part 6 of the Avexis-as-Cole AU for @tranquilweek! As Haven falls and the Inquisition makes their escape, both Cadash and Avexis make sacrifices to save those they love.
read it on ao3 here!
Avexis & Female Cadash | Rated T | 2260 words | cw: self-sacrifice, canon-typical violence, minor fantasy racism
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“Forces approaching! To arms!”
Alarm bells rang out over Haven, giving Avexis such a fright that she spilled her half-drunk ale out onto the snow. The pleasant buzz it had given her faded away as she and Varric stared out beyond the wall in horror. She could just barely see the tiny specks that must be the attackers—but she did not need to see them to feel their agony through the Fade. A horribly familiar agony.
It’s them.
“Who would—“ Varric started.
“The Templars,” Avexis cut him off, grabbing her staff and standing to run. “It’s the Templars we couldn’t save.”
Cadash was already at the gate when they arrived, listening to the commander’s assessment.
“Under what banner?”
“None—“
“It’s the Templars,” Avexis interrupted, breathless. “It’s the Templars we couldn’t save at Therinfall.”
Hana the Tranquil WIP
I learned about Tranquil Week this year, and it sounded like it was right up my alley (I love Tranquil characters, and exploring Tranquility as a worldbuilding element of Thedas), so I decided to work on a scene that's been sitting unfinished for a while between a Tranquil OC of mine, and a Chantry Sister OC of mine. I hope to do more with this, but for the time being, I really wanted to just write something from a Tranquil's POV, and this is what I have!
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Hana was not usual for a Tranquil.
She remembered electing to become Tranquil instead of taking her Harrowing, and she remembered the moment she first experienced the world as this different version of herself.
It had felt like taking a breath after days of a stuffy nose. Instant and complete relief.
Of course, many and most non-Tranquil did not see things this way. And, in fact, several of Hana’s fellow Tranquil would have disagreed as well. No matter what non-Tranquil said, there was never complete agreement among the Tranquil regarding whether or not Tranquility was a benefit. There never had been.
For Hana’s own part, things worked out well.
She was assigned a role, as all Tranquil were. But when she received it, she disputed it. Aide to one of the lesser Sisters of Val Royeaux. Carrying books, delivering messages, ensuring the appropriate vestments were adorned for the appropriate occasions.
In such a role as this, Hana’s skills would be wasted, and therefore she would be without sufficient purpose. The Chantry, as well, would not benefit nearly so much as they could.
Hana told them as much. As a resource, she should be used properly. As a being possessed of a sense of self-autonomy, she would ensure that none used her to any lesser extent.
Silence met her pronouncement, telling of their shock, and Hana was unsurprised to find the delegation process stalled.
It had not, after all, been intended to be a conversation.
One of the elder Sisters – Sister Flore – recovered herself and turned urgently to the others in attendance, “Are we sure the rite was successful!?” She made no effort to soften her tone, nor quiet her voice. Nevertheless, Hana politely said nothing, as the words had not been directed at her.
“Yes, Sister, the rite was performed appropriately, and there was no misconduct,” another, Sister Camille, replied firmly. “She is… as she should be.” Sister Camille waved a hand, as though brushing her companion aside, and locked a steady scrutinizing gaze upon Hana.
She had been one of the attending Sisters at Hana’s undergoing of the rite. Hana remembered her for her rather inflated sense of self-importance. Her confidence, if Hana recalled correctly, outstripped her competence.
Sister Flore—there really was no better word for this particular motion than “fluttered.” Her hands shook and she waved them again at Hana.
“But this—she shouldn’t be—how—!”
It was then that the third Sister in attendance – Sister Mary – stepped forward. Her features were smooth, her expression unruffled, and she spoke with a calm and unassuming cadence.
“Revered Mother, if I may,” she began, bowing slightly and waiting for the Revered Mother to allow her interruption. “Perhaps it would be well to assign her to me?” She looked around the room, head inclined with what Hana supposed should have been respectful deference. The Sisters, seeming not to think so, fell to discontent grumbling, but the Revered Mother listened in silence.
Sister Mary continued.
“As a scholar, I believe it would be a great benefit to have an aide on my travels, and one with a firm temperament besides.” The Sister smiled, polite. “She could keep my research focused, and help ensure that I’m quick to gather necessary resources. Of course…” Her smile grew politer still. “If the Chantry wishes to put her to better use elsewhere, that is entirely its prerogative.”
There was tension to the silence that followed, and Hana took the opportunity to consider the possibility.
It would suit her skills better, she thought, to be always applying her mind actively. To be an aide to a traveling scholar of the Chantry would most certainly allow her to do so.
The traveling itself would keep her active as well, and ensure her exposure to those things of which she was ignorant, allowing her to expand her knowledge and experience.
A much more suitable purpose to her skills than being an errand girl.
“Revered Mother, this proposal is agreeable to me, if I may offer my input,” Hana offered into the silence. Sister Flore’s eyes widened. Sister Camille’s narrowed. The Revered Mother said nothing, gaze moving first over Hana, then over Sister Mary. When she took in a breath to speak, all eyes snapped to her.
“You believe having a Tranquil with you wouldn’t hinder you, Sister, nor affect your travel adversely?”
Sister Mary inclined her head in the negative.
“Not at all, Revered Mother. Anything she doesn’t know which she needs to know we can teach her.”
At this, the Revered Mother raised an elegant eyebrow.
“You are neither templar nor chevalier, Sister,” she said harshly. “What makes you think you can defend her in moments of peril, should she be transferred to your charge?”
The Sister bowed again at the waist—easy deference, likely for the sake of earning capitulation, Hana suspected. “I can defend her well enough, Revered Mother.”
No. This was the wrong answer. Again, Hana turned to her masters.
“I can be taught to defend myself,” she posited. “I have some familiarity with bows from before my time in the Circle. I am confident in my ability to relearn and build upon this skill.”
There was another heavy pause. Sister Mary, listening politely as Hana spoke, turned once she had finished to face the Revered Mother. Her head tilted slightly, and she gestured with an easy smile. There was a subtle pointedness to her movements. Hana found herself mildly intrigued.
The quirks and expressions of non-Tranquil were undeniably fascinating in this new light.
The Revered Mother released a sigh, her eyes narrowing as she considered. Though not hopeful – for, of course, she could no longer feel such a potent emotion – Hana found herself thinking, this is the correct course of action. Take it. A useless instinct, given that none could hear her thoughts, nor were any in this room inclined to listen, even if they could. But Hana was not bothered, and continued to wait.
Sister Flore shook her head and turned to the Revered Mother, “Your Reverence, I believe—”
“Very well.”
The ringing tone of the Revered Mother silenced Sister Flore like the crack of a whip, resounding and final.
“Your Reverence!” Sister Flore gasped. Sister Camille’s jaw tightened. Sister Mary bowed again.
“I thank you most sincerely, Your Reverence,” she exclaimed. Hana noted silently the change in address.
The Revered Mother raised her chin, looking over first Sister Mary, then Hana, with guarded and cold eyes. Her gaze lingered on Hana, and the silence was prolonged.
After several more moments, she spoke, “It will be your responsibility to adequately prepare her for your travels.”
Sister Mary bowed her head, “Of course.”
“You will, of course, have the continued use of your current accommodations in the chantry whilst you ready yourselves to depart.”
“I am grateful, Your Reverence.”
The Revered Mother stood abruptly to her feet, pulling herself to her full height. The Sisters bowed reverently, and this time, Hana moved with them. She knew well this cue.
“Remember, Sister Mary,” the Revered Mother declared, her voice a booming echo as it washed over them all. “This Tranquil is a resource belonging to the Chantry, and I will not see her damaged needlessly. If you are unable to do as you have promised and keep her protected – or if we find that there are better uses for her – we will take appropriate action.”
There was a character to the different kinds of silence Hana had observed in this conversation, she found. For this, she was put in mind of the heavy weighted quiet following the crack of thunder.
Sister Mary, however, was not perturbed.
“I understand, Your Reverence,” she vowed, her voice pitched low. Solemn.
“Then, you are dismissed,” the Revered Mother waved her hand in a regal gesture. “Prepare as you need, and depart when you are ready. I look forward to your… discoveries.” She resumed her seat, her face still and controlled. “Maker go with you. And your new aide.”
Her eyes slid to Hana, and narrowed ever so slightly.
“As for you, Tranquil Hana, you are now a servant of the Chantry. You obey the will of the Maker and the will of His servants. Do as you are bid by your new handler, but remember that hers is not the final word.”
Hana inclined her head. “Your Reverence.”
Satisfied, the Revered Mother repeated her earlier gesture, and said no more.
Seemingly oblivious – more likely uncaring – to the tension remaining in the room, Sister Mary turned to Hana and dipped her head. The courteous smile she had worn throughout the entire exchange remained fixed on her face, and though her muscles seemed relaxed, her eyes were alert and sharp.
“Well then,” she began lightly. “Shall we?” Hana inclined her head and followed the Sister from the room, ignoring the disgruntled stares that followed them.
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Cure for Tranquility at Haven - Day 5
Avexis tilts her head, staring at this Mother Giselle. The person with the glowing hand is now being called the Herald of Andraste. Avexis wishes almost she was the Herald... would she have been save then from possession and gotten her talents back completely..? She felt like herself once more, more awake than ever, when the Herald passed by her briefly. She has been cautious to be near them since then. Not wishing to be possessed... And now this Mother asks her if she'd ever want to be cured of Tranquility... what an odd question... she shakes her head, frightened at the thought, "I do not think it will be wise as the number of demons would leave me vulnerable to possession... I might experience feelings of discomfort over events that have occurred while I was Tranquil. I believe I can survive in this fashion but might not if I was made whole again." she whispers in a small voice.. careful to sound hopeful. She misses Galyan, she would have been able to confide in him... Cassandra is being so distant...
Avexis stares at the whimpering, defiled dragon. The same one from her dreams a few nights ago... it curses and screams at the monstrous man sauntering towards the Herald. She was trying to help with the trebuchets, aware and completely overwhelmed by emotions right now as she crawls back, tears streaming down her face. Screaming out her lungs as the avalanche comes down at them all with no mercy for who is below it. The dragon being forced to save this monster -this twisted creature- of a man. The snow crashing down, sending her down into a dark, freezing cave, after the Herald. The Herald clinging to her as they both tumble down deeper with the momentum of the avalanche. And at the touch of the newly unstable Anchor, she feels free. She feels everything at once, too much. And once everything stopped moving, she got up shakily and staggered further down the cave, trembling from the cold and feeling completely undone, no longer herself any more... not alone in her mind...
Nor will she ever be again...
How will Cassandra know...? Will she think Avexis dead - that it will be better off like that for her now?
A short piece for the last day of @tranquilweek! I took inspiration from the prompts Redcliffe Village and A once fond memory.
After lunch, Owain finds an unusual visitor in the storeroom.
Rating: G
WC: ~800
CW: Includes a young child trying to cope with life in the Circle.
Tranquil Week Day 5: Fearless
Warden-Constable Boranehn holds no fear.
Read it on Ao3 Here or find the full text below the cut
Rating: G Wordcount: 387 CW: none in particular?
@tranquilweek
Oculara - A once fond memory - Day 4
Elsa stares at her fellow Tranquil quietly.. thinking back to Meredith, the first time she met the kind, broken Templar Commander...
Meredith stares down at Elsa with a sudden softness in her eyes. "What are your duties?" she asks calmly to the Tranquil.
Elsa bows her head, "I take stock, order any necessities and organize any paperwork for the stockroom, Commander." she informs calmly, Meredith humming thoughtfully. "I would like to have you as my personal assistant instead, if you'd like. What's your name?"
Elsa looks up at her in surprise, "It would be an honor. My name is Elsa." she responds, still surprised. "I need only train someone to take my place first." she adds timidly.
"Very well, you can train anyone you deem fit to take your place. I shall be waiting patiently, Elsa." Meredith nods before taking her leave.
Elsa smiles sadly at the fond little memory of her once beloved Commander. Always so patient with her, like a mother or sister. She grits her teeth as she is made to kneel, overlooking a farm. Meredith once told her she was born and raised in a farm before her sister turned into an abomination and Meredith left with Ser Wentworth Knell... She closes her eyes, feeling sudden bursts of pain and magic once more only to scream in pan. A loud voice clawing at her mind and heart, only for it all to mercifully end as quick as it started...
Tranquil Week 2024 continues on!
Hello, hello, @tranquilweek ! More chapters added to Karl Thekla’s tale: Aisles of Memory and Regret! A little snippet from one of the newest posted chapters:
“Do you…” Anders searched his face, worried. “Do you feel the… fog… coming back?”
Karl shook his head. “But I know that I will. We don’t know if this-” he tapped the amulet, “-will work again, or how, or when.”
“If it doesn’t, we’ll try whatever Merrill was working on. Or we’ll come up with something else.” Anders wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I will bring you back. I will always bring you back.”
“I know you’ll try.” Karl studied the ashes, black powder and flecks, beneath the charred ribs.
Anders frowned. “You’re sure you don’t feel anything…”
“I feel everything,” Karl croaked. He wanted to curl up on the floor and cry- for his mother, for the years he and Anders had lost, for the thousands dead, for the yet more imprisoned. He was useless and broken, a memory box that could only be opened sometimes. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break a chair and wield its legs and beat the world raw and bloody. That he was still here, still alive, and they were wasting the time he had left wondering where Cecily had gone. “I will feel everything until I feel nothing again.”
her mind was once a battleground
the Avexis-as-Cole AU continues for @tranquilweek day 5! Cole helps Avexis remember how to control her dreams, and she agrees to help him in turn.
read it on ao3 here!
Avexis & Cole | Rated G | 1200 words | No CW
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The wheat field stretched endlessly around Avexis, swaying gently in the wind. Her imagined breeze was warm and it curled around her ears like a playful spirit. Maybe it was a playful spirit; the thought furrowed her brow and sent a chill down her spine that compassion quickly whisked away.
“You can tell, if you look.” Cole’s back was warm where it pressed against hers. He sat cross-legged, idly twirling a plucked shaft of wheat between his fingers. “They’re friendly.”
Avexis frowned. “If I look at them, I might corrupt them. Aren’t we all a bit safer if I just pretend not to notice?”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Words: 2250 | Chapters: 2 | Rating: T
Alexius lost so much. To lose his magic and his entire selfhood, it felt like a blow that neither he nor Dorian would ever recover from.
Written for the Cure for Tranquility prompt for @tranquilweek ✨
Kofi commissions are also open, check my profile ☕
the answer will be an echo
Day 4 of @tranquilweek! As Cadash & Avexis investigate Redcliffe Village, they learn what became of the other Tranquil.
read it on ao3 here!
Avexis & Female Cadash | Rated T | 1139 words | CW: implied/referenced abuse, chantry critical
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Cadash liked picking locks. It made Avexis wonder, as they waited outside the dilapidated shack in Redcliffe, if that was why the dwarf was always carting her places. She was a puzzle, an oddity—she wondered if Cadash simply saw her as a lock that could only be picked over time.
Well, she mused, thumbing the hilt of her dagger, hopefully she figures something out.
Being in Redcliffe made her itch. There were mages everywhere and odd magic on top of the rifts. It set her teeth on edge. The whole place was a disaster waiting to happen. Or maybe it had already happened. It was hard to say.
Tranquil Week Day 4: Empty Gestures
After Gereon Alexius was made Tranquil by the Inquisitor, Dorian visits him, bearing news of Felix's death.
Read it on Ao3 Here or find the full text below the cut!
Rating: T Wordcount: 920 CWs: mentioned character death
@tranquilweek
[first] [previous]
And! another addition to my small @tranquilweek fic for a slightly late day 3! Things are starting to get weird.
wc: 450
When the Breach opened, Avexis found herself screaming.
The world shook green and fierce, the air laden with fear and death as the eerie glow of the Fade streaked across the sky, its light cast across Haven.
Minaeve was at her side immediately, shushing her, but the words were lost. She couldn’t hear anything past the frantic confusion, the shouts around them as people rushed to the gates—all of it drowned out by the cries of the druffalo in the nearby glade as instinct took over and they charged across the landscape.
Their roars were ones of frenzied panic. The sky was torn open, strange beasts would come through.
They would die.
Tranquil Week Day 3: Dissent
A tranquil who works in the Wonders of Thedas engages in some minor workplace rebellion. (Nestor is not a canonical tranquil character)
Read it on Ao3 Here or find the full text below the cut
Rating: G Wordcount: 703 C/w: retail
@tranquilweek
A Promise Kept
For @tranquilweek day 3: As Cassandra fights through the carnage wrought by the Breach, she searches for a sign that Regalyan survived.
read it on ao3 here!
Avexis & Cassandra, Minor Cassandra/Regalyan, Minor Cassandra & Cullen | Rated T | 1637 words | CW: minor character death
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Cassandra’s attention, which should have been solely on the demons pouring from the sky, was inescapably divided. Slash, parry, block—and search. She could not stop herself from hoping for a glimpse of unburned flesh amidst the wreckage.
Worse, she wasn’t even looking for the Divine. Or at least, not the Divine alone. The Maker and Andraste forgive her, but she wanted nothing more than to see Regalyan’s face, unconscious, perhaps, but alive, Maker please, if anyone is alive—
She slammed her shield against a shade’s hooded face and it dissipated back into the rift above. Not that it mattered. It would return, or another in its place. It was only a matter of time.