#{ hey! I hope this is fine!!! }

[sarohy]

Someone intrusive thought almost win huh….

[microtyalm13]

everything about Gavriil feels suffocating.

how his presence alone can be almost overwhelming, how his massive body cages you everytime without a chance to escape. you wouldn't dare to try anyway, knowing that you don't even have a say against a creature of his caliber. he will find you. in your dreams, in your nightmares. in your room.

how he will be intense and vague about everything just for the sake of it; to confuse you further, to see the conflict of emotions in your eyes merge with arousal. eventually your hesitance turns into acceptance, a desperate need to feel his hands all over you. and he will be oh so grateful to fulfill that desire.

how his thick tongue pushes past your lips and into your mouth, reaching almost the back of your throat, relishing in the muffled little sounds you make. your drool mixed with his saliva drips down your chin, and your hazy eyes look up at him when he finally pulls away, giving you a second to breathe.

how his hips are slamming into you relentlessly, your wetness and lack of resistance allowing him to move almost effortlessly. forced to hold onto him for dear life instead of pushing away. all of your morals and principles are being tossed out of the window every single time he comes to you. he has you where he wants you, and will not stop until he feels like you can't take it anymore.

and how in the morning he vanishes away, leaving you guessing: was it just another wet dream? but the cold stickiness between your legs tells you more than you need to know.

[skitskatdacat63]

"Arrogant, ruthless, and by all reports (including his own) utterly charming."

(I don't know why I drew this but please take Revolutionary War British officer George, I think it suits him, okay!!!)

+ George Russell the type of guy to t-pose in front of rebels

+ the usual

Okay first of all, process, as always:

I drew this in one day hahaha....Actually really fun! I haven't finished anything in almost a month, and haven't painted for even longer, so I'm kinda dying at the fact that 18th century George Russell got me motivated 😭 Sometimes when painting, I realize I have free will and can actually just start painting over the lineart, and that's the best moment of every drawing process 🙏

Also I'm very proud of his face!!! I've said before, but art progression is such a weird thing. You'll keep repeating to your self "I'm no good at [insert art thing.]" And then randomly realized you can in fact do it. That's me with drawing real people's faces 😭 I'm just so shocked I got his face pretty good in one try!!!

Okay about the pose and quote. God its so fun to misappropriate quotes for my own evil deeds. Both of these are from this one officer from the Revolution: Banastre Tarleton. Idk, I randomly saw his painting in a history video, and it's stuck in my mind ever since. And then yesterday, bcs I spent a lot of time looking at George, I'm like "hey you know what he kinda reminds me of-" and thus we have this.

I just found that quote about him from some historian to be funny, so I put it as a caption, as I would with Napoleon. This won't be an AU by any means but. I think if George was in the Revolution, he'd be the most stereotypical, evil British villain in American media type guy ever. And Tarleton is kinda that guy tbh, to the point where him and others like Arnold Benedict are the poster boys of evil Revolution guys. He even has a mocking nickname! "Bloody Tarleton/Ban", very "Osama bin Russell," no? 😭

Some notable moments from Tarleton's campaign that I think fit George: Apparently killed a bunch of American soldiers after they surrendered, making sure everyone was dead(😭😭), threatened to burn an American general's house down to make him surrender and then took him hostage, went toe to toe with George Washington himself and Washington even taunted him and Tarleton got a shot in, has a helmet named after him(very slayful.)

[blackoutballad]

happy birthday, kiddo

[reallybadblackoutpoems]

Group chat with friends 2023

group chat with friends (2023) - ducklesspond and friends

"help mine dick thats ugly that one yes for me indeedy"

submitted by @ducklesspond

[carlyraejepsans]

you ever write several hundred words of nothing but a character portrait of someone getting a bone crushing hug and trying to mentally deal with it in one single swoop of inpired writing and then step back and be like hm. so i'm a little bit touch starved maybe

[aces-to-apples]

I'm gonna be real, so little of previous games have actually mattered in any way beyond flavor text that I literally could not give less of a shit about this whole debacle. Like it's such a non-issue to me. Idk what games y'all have been playing for 15 years but truly this is the norm. Barely anything carried over from Origins to Hawke and all pretty minor shit, and I genuinely cannot think of anything beyond flavor text carrying over to Inquisition. Oh you could customize Hawke and they can answer a few vague questions with vague bullshit? Cool, presumably that's what the Inquisitor will give us. Like idk guys but I think maybe building up your expectations for a decade has had a detrimental effect on what should be reasonable expectations for a video game that's truly been in development hell for like eight years and wants to be functionably playable to brand new players without alienating them.

[frameconfessions]

What if the devs or just someone who works for Digital Extremes finds this blog and sends in a confession?

[holocene-sims]

friendship with my semi-hiatus ended, now this sim i made is my best friend 🤝

[quietwingsinthesky]

i feel your pain about dot and bubble 😭😭😭 white people understand the worlds most obvious race allegory and racism challenge (impossible)

It Was Not Subtle. Jesus Christ.

ive typed out like four or five different paragraphs about it and deleted them because i just can’t put into words the experience of watching that episode After knowing how everyone reacted to it on airing. there was some part of me that was being overly generous in thinking that Maybe there really was something missable about this, but i’ve seen it now. it’s. you can’t. you can’t possibly miss it. it’s there from minute one and it’s so viscerally uncomfortable being Stuck with lindy while she constantly insults the doctor and ignores him and. god. god.

i think it was the right choice, for the episode, to stage it from lindy’s pov. but i’m also so so aware that it’s putting things from her perspective that’s got to be making some people just. able to be willfully ignorant about it. and i think the sudden wave of ricky september love is the most telling bit because. the thing about ricky. is that lindy likes him. is that he saves her. is that he’s kind and reassuring and sweet to her.

and the thing about ricky is that the one time we see him interact with the doctor. he can’t even look at him except for the one moment where he’s telling the doctor to stop being condescending to him. the same way lindy did earlier.

at the end, it’s very easy for people to turn on lindy. ‘yeah, of course, lindy’s a bitch, lindy’s racist, we all see that now! unlike ricky, who would have changed.’ it feels like. people very easily could cut themselves off from the nasty parts of lindy, proclaim Well, I Would Never Be Like Her, while refusing to acknowledge that they are still empathizing mainly with her and her pov. just pretending that that pov can be taken away from her racism. does that make sense? i’m not sure i’m wording it correctly.

because the episode i watched, i know that last scene wouldn’t have changed if it was lindy or ricky there. the only difference would be that ricky wouldn’t look at the doctor while he was telling him it was his duty to save them but that he was not one of them. lindy was bold enough in her ignorance and hatred to not care. so. idk. closing thoughts, tldr, what a good fucking episode. shame about the people who think the only thing you have to do to not be racist is to be ashamed and aware of it as you continue on acting the same way you would have before.

[oceanwithouthermoon]

i think its weird that i have to make this disclaimer but the internet is crazy so wtvr,, anyway,,

if i say i dont like something, that doesnt mean "that thing is bad and nobody should post it.."

i swear literally every time i even mention that i dislike something, people will go "wow does that mean u fucking hate me cuz i post that thing? ur a fucking stupid bitch and all ur opinions r wrong" LIKE ?? er.. no. just because i say i dont like certain characterizations of certain characters (the saiki k fandom is CRAZY about this cuz i can state an opinion on literally any character and a group of people will still go 'well only we're allowed to post our opinions about them because we're always right!1!1!'), or certain ship tropes (mentioned my hatred of toxic yaoi maybe once or twice on here months ago and people STILL get mad at me as if i said toxic yaoi lovers r evil or something), or certain ships, or WHATEVER, does not mean that i HATE the people who are posting them or that i think they shouldnt post them at all, NO, im just posting about my personal tastes on my personal blog and it would be extremely weird and hypocritical if i decided that i was the ONLY person that was allowed to do that,,

i think the only reason people assume that is because there are a lot of other people on here who ARE like that, and a lot of people toe the line between posting that they dont like something and posting that they think everyone who likes that thing is stupid, annoying, and wrong,, so i guess all i can say is, sorry for whatever made you make these assumptions but they arent true about me so plz leave me alone ʘ‿ʘ ur doing the same thing to me that ur accusing me of but i didnt do it in the first place so ur just actively being a dick for no reason

[luck-of-the-drawings]

VIOLATOR!! DESECRATOR!! TURN AROUND AND MEET THE HATER!!

VEEERRRY HAPPY WITH WILLIAMS LIL SCARY ARC. HORROR MOVIE BOY. LIL ZOMBIE GUY. UNDEAD AND PIIIISSED OFF LIKE CMAAAHHHNNN I HOPE HE KEEPS THAT CHAINSAW FOREVER. IF YOURE UNDEAD CAN YOU STILL GET A NICOTINE ADDICTION? I SURE HOPE SO!

[eshtaresht]

if any of my american friends see this, I understand what you're going through and I care you

but jesus fucking christ is it annoying to watch every social media feed just. flooded with doomerism and whining... I know this is just a sub product of american global influence as a whole but it's just frustrating and tiring to have to be invested in one single country's politics cause they're gonna bite everyone's ass. this behavior isn't unique either, this happens after any election, it's just when it's other countries they do that in their segregated "side of the internet" and americans are the whole internet so that's literally all everyone is seeing right now

and I don't wanna say this, cause I get the panic, I really do, been there done there but guys.... you're not special. your fascistic government didn't become suddenly fascistic overnight and it certainly isn't a Unique brand of evil, it's as conservative as the rest of the world's major powers right now! you just didn't care about that as long as you had the illusion of personal safety. congrats! it's gone now. welcome to the real world, oh Regular White American who just suddenly realized they don't have as much say in the order of things as they thought they had! ! you're gonna be fiiiine. you're gonna be fucked over but you're gonna survive just like the rest of the world being fucked over by your stupid government (except for the people it had and continues to kill, obviously)

fuck, this sounds really evil and mean and everyone and their mother are already at each other's throats but ghrrrrrhh I just need to get this frustration out somewhere

[sodrippy]

actually i dont wanna hear shit from my folks about how i never do anything for them bc why am i waking up at 5am to drop their car off for a service taking an hours worth of public transport home, getting an uber to and from my physio bc theres no car, then going straight from lunch in the city back to the stupid car place to pick up the car. all bc they just see me as an errand boy

[midnightwind]

Clipped Wings

Summary: Sent away for ruining a plan made by the Talon's themselves, Renn de Riva does her best to fulfill her new contract with Varric Tethras. A few letters home are all she has to tide herself over as they prepare to face down their target after a long year.

Word Count: 5690

Previous | Read on AO3 | Next

Chapter Two: Dear Runaway Heart

A collection of partially coded letters found set aside by the Fifth Talon, gathered over the course of a year.

Vi,

That was mean, even for you. You didn't tell them that the contract was approved? I tracked them for over a week. I rode a fucking horse, Viago. I haven't done that since you trained me. I hated that. I finally found them camped out in the woods and they both almost shot me. Would you have still felt vindicated if they had turned me into a pincushion? The little farm dwarf is still glaring at me. If they knew to expect a Crow appearing from the shadows, maybe they wouldn’t have almost killed me. Lucky I didn’t drop from the trees, I don’t know if I would have had enough time to explain myself before 7 bolts and 3 arrows appeared in my chest.

Maker… Whatever. They were fresh from some mishap, which didn't help. Cranky, tired, fed up, and surprised make a terrible cocktail. Their trail is apparently pointing them at the capital so I get to play tour guide I guess. Not that you've ever given me a job or taken me on a trip there. I do so wonder why.

Don't fret too much. I'll be on my best behavior, as befits my House. Wouldn't want to embarrass you. I’ll complete this contract, but if they die I’m coming home. No client means no gold means no job. I promise I won’t put them out of their misery myself.

-R

Hey Vi,

Varric said I should keep writing back home, that it might help. Something about my mood spooking Harding. I think traveling with a Crow is all that dwarf needed to be on edge…

We just passed through the capital chasing their apostate. Wish we had gotten to enter it proper, but their information kept us to the outskirts. They had a lead on some magic doohickey the man wanted, but all we found was an empty basement. Their contact, some elven servant, disappeared pretty quickly once they showed us the building and the guards sure turned up faster than usual. They accused us of taking the thing. Never even set eyes on it… Varric said Solas had a bunch of agents scattered around, usually elves, so I'd bet coin we were had by one of his guys. It’s been a while since I’ve had to outrun guards, but this is the job that keeps on giving…

I don't have enough on this mark to see any of this coming, Viago. Usually I have your dossiers and the de Riva recon to run with. Or you just tell me where to go and what to do and things just… Work. Harding doesn't trust me and half the things Varric shares about the mark sound fake or impossible. I can't ask around because no one ever seems to see him, or worse they’re lying and telling him that we’re looking for him. I could brush up on the myths for Fen'Harel, but that sounds ludicrous. Gods aren't real. It'd probably be as useful as asking Varric more questions.

Anyways, the next lead is taking us to Seleny. At least we can use the river instead of walking. So much walking. Thanks for that.

-Renn

Viago,

Guess whose boat got hijacked by Antaam? Sent several of the bastards floating face down back towards the capital for you. Hopefully those ones weren't part of some new Talon plot I wasn't told about. They're sure spreading through Antiva fast. I hope you're still getting updates from Salle. If you need me back to defend our turf, just write me a letter. We both know this job is a joke.

Seleny was nice enough, but uneventful. We missed the mark by a while, but the trail isn't quite cold. We're going south, again. He's still after contraptions for whatever ritual I guess he's doing. If I trust Varric's claim, anyways. It still sounds bullshit to me. Wish I had your take on the mark. Feel like I can't trust anything right now…

Give Teia my regards.

-Renn

Fifth Talon Viago,

The elven ruins south of Seleny were quite the trip. Either this Solas can evade demons better than any Crow assassin sneaks into a villa, or he was never there in the first place. Maybe as the Dreadwolf he just has the keys to every ruin. All the traps still worked, the previous residents were very cross to be woken up by us (not my fault), and there were even a few demons hanging around the place just to spice things up. Never dull, this trip.

In my defense of the traps, I did not have experience as a dungeon delver before this. Or elven ruins. Or ruins. The zombies were 100% Varric's fault, though. I told him not to mess with the urns. At least no one else had to deal with the traps I set off… Scrubbing thousand year old guts off my gear was not a fun way to spend the evening.

The demons were interesting though! They follow magic like moths to a flame. Which was bad news for me. I wasn't ready to be in such high demand. I remember our lessons about them, don't worry, but it's one thing to read about how they hunger for mages and a whole other thing to have them hunting you. To have them reaching ice cold fingers into your mind, whispering temptations and doubts…

Hey, Vi, why did you give me this job? Was it really to keep me safe? I know I fucked up, I know it was bad, really bad. But… did you have to send me away like this? I know the other Talons would want blood, but they might not have killed me. You trained me, you know I can handle the pain. I would have bled whatever they needed if it meant I could stay. You could have sent me home, properly home to Salle. I would have stayed in the apartments forever. Anything for you, Viago. I would have died, if that’s what you needed. I just… Why did you send me away like this?

I hope you're still safe. I hope Treviso is okay. I hope my letters

 Fuck, Teia, I'm trying. Please tell him I'm trying. I'm sorry. Please. Please, get him to write back. I just

I'm so sorry.

-Mirenna

Beloved Teia,

Sorry for the double feature, but getting a letter out of the wilderness is quite impossible. We've stopped in Ansbury to resupply and plan our next move. We delved another ruin on the way over, this time much more smoothly now that I know what the traps can look like. Still found a few new ones, but that's just the learning curve. Good thing I've always been a quick study. Unfortunately, we don't really know what Solas is hoping to find in these ruins. Anything related to the Fade has a fairly distinct aura, but these relics do a variety of things. Some tear holes, others patch them, or they simply take a peek into the other side, spit out names of spirits and demons, pull in magic and store it…

We need information. I'm not a Fade expert, I'm just making my best guess at what all this is and does. But when we find a guide or a source, we get led into a fight or dead end. These Agents of Fen’Harel are dogging our every step and leading us in the wrong direction. Maker, they might be tracking us. He has a whole network working against us and we're just… three people struggling to share a meal most days.

You know me, T. I'm not the best with people who aren't Crows. I start talking about what poisons would be masked best by tonight's stew or the ideal way to slip a knife between the ribs of the last traitorous bastard to mislead us and things go really quiet. Harding looks like she's going to be ill and Varric just sighs… They tell stories about their time in the Inquisition, about their lives before that. The mundane details. They laugh with each other, they reminisce about the people they lost together, and I'm just there.

I know how to be a Crow. I know how to act a slave or servant. I don't know how to be… normal. I miss discussing the best lip stains with which to hide poison with you. The best tailor in town, the tastiest bakeries, the best perches to eavesdrop from, the finest smith for the sharpest blades. You always knew the best shops for the best prices. You single handedly saved my entire wardrobe for each Crow ball and party infiltration. I miss your company. I miss your advice.

I miss Vi. I miss training with him, the proper burn of a Crow workout. Brewing poisons at his side, sitting by the fireplace and reading quietly while he does paperwork. Maker, I miss his lectures! I would kill a man just to be stuck listening to Viago complain about dull blades. I miss gathering intel for him, seeing that little eyebrow raise he does when I do a good job, but he doesn't want to say it. I miss the snakes, I hope Emil is doing well.

I miss feeling like I'm part of something, T.

We’re going to follow the river west, towards Starkhaven. There's a few ruins along the way to check, but the trail is leading farther from Antiva. From home. Hopefully we catch him soon. It's only been a few months, but… Yeah. Please keep Viago updated with all of this, if you could.

-Your Little Wren

Teia,

Things could be better. A handful of ruins later, nothing to show for it, and a longer road away from home. I mean, there have been clearer signs of someone at least being in the ruins before us this time, but it's unclear if that was Solas or one of his agents. We’re definitely following someone’s trail! It's just a trail leading more north now. I guess I'm glad we’re not delving into Nevarra? My time with demons inhibiting ruins hasn't been amazing and that nation is… weird about them. The Veil has to be paper thin all over. Magic must be crazy.

I appreciate your advice on being more social. Trying to mimic you had… mixed results. Varric seemed amused and Harding just went really quiet. I think she blushed a little, even. But, I like making them laugh. Felt a bit like when I mess with Viago so you can get a giggle. Maybe I can't talk like a Crow with them, but I've been stuck listening to their stories for months now. I think I have a solid handle on what they find funny and what I can needle for my own amusement. You never stop being the little sibling, after all.

I think Varric noticed I wasn't doing well. He's been hanging back trying to talk with me more lately. He asked about the Dalish clan I came from. (Not good.) He asked about my parents. (Worse.) Even dared to ask how I got recruited by the Crows. (Better, but not good.) I cut him off before he could ask about my training. Very secretive and I think it'd just make him sad. People outside the Crows just don't understand what we have to do for this line of work.

I barely told him anything, just that my Clan kicked me out and Viago killed some slavers when he found me. He patted me on the back and offered a hug if I wanted one. I honestly don’t think my life was harder than anyone else’s before Viago found me. I mean, Crow training isn't great, but I asked for it. I chose to be a Crow. I like what I do. I like the people I work with. (You're my favorite, of course. Don't tell Viago.) But Varric just got this… look on his face, like I was some poor unfortunate soul put on this path by powers beyond me. He's started watching what I do in a fight or around camp or on the road and pointing out what other jobs I could do. Bodyguard, archeologist, botanist, alchemist… he's trying to offer me alternatives. Like I'm some down on their luck punk who just needs one person to believe in them.

I don't know, he's trying to be nice. Maybe even supportive? He's not a bad traveling companion, I definitely get along with him better than Harding. But it almost feels like… I didn't know my da very well before he died, but it almost feels like Varric is trying to fill that hole for me? It's a strange thing. I guess so long as he doesn't sit me down to discuss the birds and the bees, he can do whatever he wants.

Sorry for the rambling letter. Did you know Solas has a town named after him? Might not be for him, but isn't it funny? I'm hoping it's a sign that we're going to catch him there. It'd be poetic.

-Renn

The Most Radiant Talon,

I think this might have been my least favorite stop. Trying to ask after a man with the same name as the town was a test in patience I definitely failed. Took a few hours, but I almost started stabbing anyone who answered our questions with “You found it! Welcome to town.” Half of them were doing it for a laugh. Would have loved to hear their mirth after I punctured their lungs…

It was good for a rest, though. We got to have proper beds for the first time in a week. And real meals! Cheap tavern food has never tasted so good. You and Viago would hate this. Not to say I don't miss proper, good Antivan food (Maker above seasoning barely exists out here) but almost anything is better than Harding's “cooking.” I think most nights she just throws whatever she finds in the undergrowth into a pot and calls it dinner. I swear, when I get back I'm going to use a decent chunk of my payment on a meal so delicious it kills me. Would love company, if you want a treat.

Awful meals that could rival some of our poisons aside, things have been going… Okay with this group. Harding has finally thawed for me. Just took a few months and a lot of almost dying side by side in dusty ruins. I managed to get my hands on some reagents and a quiet evening at the fire to brew a coating for her arrows to help with the demons we keep running into. She seemed to appreciate the gift. We've spent a few nights discussing plants, although we have fairly different knowledge there. She's been teaching me about the edible stuff and I've been sharing the poisonous ones that can be used as medicine if reduced properly. So we have that at least. If things stay friendly, maybe we can chat business about ranged weaponry.

Varric loves to see it, obviously. Despite all our dead ends and shortfalls, he's been more smiley. Might just be the ale we finally have access to, though. He's currently trying to deal me into a game of Wicked Grace despite being able to see me very clearly write these exact words. I hear you snickering, go back to your drink, old man. I need to update my dear Talons back home before I cheat a weird dwarf out of a chunk of gold.

We're heading deeper into Tevinter proper, I think. Vol Dorma should be the next city hit, and in good time if we can buy horses. The Imperial Highway should speed things up. I wanted to stop in Vyrantium, as a treat, but I was out voted. No respect for legendary Crow contracts… 

It feels like we're getting close to something. Maybe it's wishful thinking or a jinx, but it's like there's an energy in the air. Maybe I'll have real news to write to you about next.

-Your Enduring Wren

T and Vi,

We were being watched. Followed. Tracked. I caught them, finally, trailing us as we were restocking in the markets. Easy enough to slip away unseen, child’s play to get behind the tail, laughable to slip a sweet poison into their blood. As they stumbled into the wall and fell to the ground, I got to rummage in their pockets. Another elf, clearly working for Fen’Harel. A little wolf necklace tells you a lot.

They’ve been sending letters to the apostate, updates on Varric and those he travels with. Where he was staying, where he plans to go, etc. The important one was a warning from Solas himself. He’s sending his agents away from Minrathous, cutting off communication and telling them to be ready for the new world. Whatever he’s been working towards is almost done and it’s happening in the capital of Tevinter. He’ll know we’re coming, but I think I got to this agent before a timetable could be sent.

The agent is eliminated, our route is still the same, but we’ll be riding hard now. I think we’ll be cutting it close. Vol Dorma is still the best bet for last minute communications unless you send it directly to Minrathous. I’m giving this letter and the last to the fastest bird the messengers have. This job ends soon, one way or another. Hopefully I’ll be home in a few months.

-Renn

~◇~

The bar had steadily emptied out as the night stretched on, the barkeep throwing increasingly annoyed glances at the elf curled up in the corner. She had been nursing the same drink for a few hours now, the cup pressed to her lips but she never pulled a single sip from it. Her attention was instead fixed on the papers spread out before her. All of them were letters, written in the flowing script of the Seventh Talon. They were updates from home detailing how the occupation was going, the latest raids and losses, and a few sections dedicated solely to Viago. He refused to write to her and hadn't sent a single letter in the year she'd been gone. Maker, it had been a year… She missed Treviso sorely. She missed Viago more.

Which was why she had been sitting in the booth for hours, staring at an unopened letter. It had his familiar neat script, the wax seal a silly little snake because he just loved being on the nose too much. She knew Teia had been passing on her updates to him; she had explicitly asked the Talon to when she realized he was never going to write back, after all. Her last letter had been a shorter update, but she hadn’t expected it to finally get her Talon to pen one himself.

One letter shouldn't have felt so intimidating, but she was scared. What if he told her to stay gone? What if he was passing on another job that kept her out of Antiva? What if this was a warning that she was never welcomed back? She let out a shivering breath into her drink, ripples dancing in the liquid. The letter had been placed in her hand days ago, long before they had entered the capital. It was starting to crease from how often she worried the paper in her hands as they traveled.

“You have to read it eventually.”

She jumped at Varric's voice, cursing under her breath. Her mug clinked to the tabletop as she half turned a guilty look to the dwarf. He hummed a quiet laugh before sliding into the booth to sit across from her. He spread his hands out around the other letters, tapping the table with a finger.

“You'll keep imagining the worst of these letters if you refuse to read that one.” His voice had that infuriating lilt he got when he knew he was right, a little smug and a little mocking. He softened soon after. “Listen, whatever he wrote you doesn't change the good you've done with us. If you can't go home after this, you'll have a place with me. I'm not going to drop my Rook just because this job is finished. Trouble has a way of finding me and you're too damn handy in a fight to lose now.”

A weak smile brushed her lips, but it didn't reach her eyes. Working with Varric had been good, eye opening. Traveling Thedas had been amazing, between fighting for their lives and slightly miserable camping at times. But the Crows were her home. If she had lost that… Her eyes fell back to the letter in her hand, brows knitting. Fear was a cold stone in her stomach, reaching shivering tendrils up to her heart. It hammered behind her ribs painfully. With a steadying breath, she flicked a throwing dagger out from her sleeve and broke the seal.

Idiot:

I hope you're reading this. If the trail really has led you through Tevinter, it'll be harder to get messages through. The Antaam in Antiva are prickly about anything to do with our neighboring kingdom.

Back home, things have cooled, but they are not forgotten. Killing all those Antaam may have felt righteous in the moment, but the Talons are still complaining that your actions ruined weeks of setting up a larger, more effective strike.

I am one of the Talons still complaining. Remember, this trip with Varric is a contract. Crows don't fail contracts, especially Crows from House de Riva who may need to improve their judgement. But there is more at stake than honor. Whatever this ‘Solas’ is up to needs to be stopped. I've seen enough of his handiwork to know that.

Don't get careless out there. Don't fail. And don't get yourself killed, or I will come after you in the Fade myself.

-Viago

The greeting alone almost had her crying with relief, the noise that escaped her was half laugh, half sob. The whole thing was the closest the man ever got to saying ‘be safe, I love you.’ It wasn't even dusted with poison or anything. She pressed it gingerly to her chest, as if there was some kind of lingering warmth to be gleaned from it. Varric was leaning forward slightly, waiting. She simply gave him a wide grin.

“Good news then?” He asked.

“Yeah,” she breathed, slumping in her seat, “it's good news. I can go home soon.” I still have a home.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I'll be sad to see you go, kid.”

“You can always visit. Treviso is lovely any time of the year, but Salle in spring is better.” She sighed wistfully, spreading the letter flat on the table. “The air heavy with nectar, flowers blooming everywhere… They decorate ships with them, you know. Masts and railings adorned with a rainbow of blossoms. Absolute nightmare if you have allergies.” That earned her a quiet laugh. “Ohh, or during Satinalia! One big party for the whole country, masks and wine and so much food! And, if you ever need a Crow, I’ll clear my schedule just for you. For old time’s sake.”

“A friend in the Crows is a decent card to have in hand.” He conceded with a grin.

“A rare privilege.” And then she shrugged, sitting upright and leaning in. “This is all assuming that we find Solas, though. You sure this lead is the one? The note I found could have been a fake. Don’t get me wrong, this has been a fun road trip, but our track record has been…”

“Shit?” He supplied happily.

“I was going to say bleak, but love the energy.” She cast him a lopsided smile. “All our dead ends in Antiva could maybe end with me getting to cut down some trespassing Antaam. I know how to fight them. The Venatori were pretty rare before the whole invasion, but I still don’t have that much experience with them.”

“You’ll get your hours in by the time we’re done here, I’m sure.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I take it you haven’t left Antiva before?”

She tapped a finger against the branching ink under her eyes. “Did a little traveling back with the Clan, but I was a kid and I wasn’t very good with established borders. More like ‘this chunk of forest has the best fruit foraging and spooky humans, that chunk has pretty coasts and humans in a lot of leathers.’ We avoided both. When I got picked up by Viago, I stayed pretty solidly in Salle or the surrounding cities. Venatori contracts meant traveling to Tevinter so they were pricey. Which meant House Dellamorte got most of them.”

“The famed Mage Killer, I assume. If he was the established specialist, why couldn’t I find a way to employ him?” Varric groused, crossing his arms unhappily.

“First of all,” she held a finger up at him, “rude. I’ve been doing a fantastic job and you are fully expected to write a glowing review of my work to Viago. Second, I’m… not sure. You have the means to pay for his services, but things have been quiet about him for a while. Maybe he’s been out on a long contract and the First Talon has been keeping it hush hush. Not my House so I really can’t say.”

“I never really understood the Houses. Does each one have a specialty?”

She clapped her hands gleefully. “Not specifically, no! But the Talon Houses have reputations and usually a star assassin to represent them. Dellamorte has the Magekiller, de Riva has our poison master, Cantori has the honeypot. Each House has a style, usually, but those inside the House may not always be molded to it.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “Like, I’m de Riva. I’m a deft hand at poisons, but my skill lies in speed. You have a job with a slim window? I’m a good bet to get it done. Quick and quiet is less a mantra and more a promise from me.”

“But you’re still focused on poisons. I’ve seen your morning brew. It’d kill men three times your size, I swear.” There was a familiar note of unease in his voice that always made her smile.

“Of course, I was trained by Viago himself. I’ve been sipping poison since I was a kid! Maybe even earlier, thanks to the Dalish. But Viago specializes in potent varieties. I don’t think anyone can match what he brings to the table. I pride myself more on my delivery of the poisons.” With a beaming smile, she dug in her bag before placing a translucent bundle of twine on the table. “You can poison someone in a lot of ways with access to their house, but there’s a risk of collateral. Poison their wine stash, you might get a servant who likes to sample instead of the master of the house. Dose their makeup and then whoops! The kid tried it on and died. You could sneak into the kitchen and hit their meals, but tasters exist for a reason.”

“And now I’m worried about my meals with you again.”

A bright laugh fell from her lips. “I don’t have a contract for you and a Crow doesn’t kill if there isn’t gold on the table for it.” She gave him a wink before unspooling some of the string between her fingers. “Anyways, my approach is simpler. People are terrible at looking up so I case the place, get access to the rafters, then dangle this little string over their meal or drink after the taster has been by. You use a proper poison, only need a drop. It travels along this string which is nearly invisible, plops onto whatever they’re about to eat, and bam! Contract done. I don’t risk anyone else taking the dose because the guy is convulsing on the floor or face down in the food.”

He grimaced at the image. “Effective, but the whole ‘casing the place’ takes time. You just bragged about being fast.”

“Ah, yes. I just use the usual poisoned darts or blades for rush jobs. You want clean and elegant, you have to allow for at least a day or two.” The twine was abandoned as she flexed her fingers at him like claws, electricity sparking along her hands. “Or I can make it hurt, if that’s what they want. An assassin mage has some perks.”

“Disturbing as always, Rook.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “What about places without rafters?”

She deflated at that. “Less fun, first of all, but usually I just have to go undercover.” Placing a hand behind each ear, she clicked her tongue. “Little makeup for the tats and a stolen uniform let me blend in as a servant. Act demur, bow and scrape, yessir, no sir, knife them in the night later or dose something they won't bother testing. More risk of collateral, but not every job gets to be perfect.”

“And aren’t we familiar with that idea.” He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’ve never opened up like this before. What’s different about tonight?”

Her eyes fell to the tabletop, roaming over the spread of letters as she chewed on her lip. “Might be going soft, to be honest.” The laugh that curved her lips died on her tongue. “It’s been a year, Varric. A year of dead ends, close calls, and empty rooms. I’ve been away on jobs before, but a year?” A hand clutched at the front of her shirt, an ache in her chest. “I miss home. I miss my family. I miss my leathers! Varric, I miss dressing like a Maker damned Crow.”

“Nothing’s stopping you from that.” He shook his head. “No one said you had to pack them away.”

But that wasn’t true, she had been exiled in a sense. It wasn’t right to wear the feathers, she hadn’t earned them back yet. “It would make us easier to spot, they’d stick out in Tevinter crowds.”

He almost rolled his eyes at that. “You would get pegged as Antivan, not specifically a Crow. Your traders go all over, including into Tevinter. This is your weird Crow honor thing, isn’t it?”

She huffed, sinking lower in her seat to sulk. “I got sent on this job as a punishment, Varric, fun as it’s been. Being dragged all over the country with no end in sight? My target always slipping through my fingers? Wearing my feathers would just… feel like I was fooling myself. I’m not a Crow again, not until this is done.”

“We both know that’s bullshit, kid.” The dwarf let out a low chuckle. “You were sent on this contract as a Crow. No one stripped you of your leathers. I can’t make you feel like a proper assassin, partly because I’m not a feathered maniac and partly because your whole business is a mess, but you can’t punish yourself like that. If wearing the silly outfit makes you feel better, like you have a purpose, hells, I’ll go pluck a goose for you with my own hands.”

She huffed a laugh through her nose. “White is so gauche.”

“So I’ll dip them in paint first, my point still stands. Your skills, your knowledge, your gut instinct? Don’t need a fancy outfit for those. Your honor is fine, shining even in my opinion.”

“I disobeyed orders.” Her voice was suddenly small.

He waved a hand through the air dismissively. “Orders you weren’t aware of and that were stupid anyways. You saved people, saved me, and that puts you right in my book.” When she sank deeper into her sulk he let out a long sigh, muttering under his breath as he dug in his pocket. “I was saving this for a rainy day, or even as a celebration gift if we managed to nab Solas, but you’re clearly in your head about this.” He slid a silver necklace over to her, a delicate metalwork feather dangling on the chain. “If you don’t feel like you can wear your official feathers, then you can wear this one as a reminder. You aren’t lost or cast aside or whatever else you’re thinking. You’re on a job and you’re still a Crow, if that’s what you want.”

She merely stared down at the jewelry with wide eyes. “How long have you had this in the wings?”

He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “Bought it back in Treviso. I have a… friend with a fondness for an Antivan woman. Thought it might be a nice little reminder since this whole Solas chase keeps pulling them apart, but didn’t feel quite right for the couple. Then you came along and I thought ‘maybe she’d like it!’ But you came with your own set of feathers and it felt like a poor fit for you, too.”

With a tentative touch, she ran her finger along the pendant. “Who’d your third choice be if I said no?”

“I don’t know, Harding? She could send it back to Sera, or hand it off to the next person who’s sweet on her.” He pushed the chain towards her again. “But it feels like a better fit for you now, considering.”

Her mouth quirked with a smile as she plucked the trinket off the table. “Well, I appreciate the sentiment even if you are just trying to pass off a bum gift.”

“So long as it makes you happy.” He grinned, holding his hands up in surrender. “Now, it’s late and the barkeep is looking mighty pissed at us. I sent word to our contact, but we're meeting her tomorrow so get some sleep. I know it’s a novel concept for you Crows, but things are about to get busy.

She laughed, gathering her letters up. “With our luck? The word you’re looking for is chaotic, I think.”

Requested Tags: @weaponizedvirtue

[raddest-laddest]

thinking about this really funny interaction i had with my boss yesterday