#the crush house game

[amiracleilluminated]

Film and produce 1999's hottest reality TV show: The Crush House! Select a crush-worthy cast, satisfy voracious audiences and keep the show on air to uncover the sinister secrets behind this darkly comic thirst-person shooter. The Crush House demo, 2024 Developed by Nerial, published by Devolver Digital

[mikachusblog]

Some uni students for my savefile

[ladythornofrivia]

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponent al, logarithmic, while i gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cow girl, doggy, backwards, forwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick thribbing, first clenching, ear rining, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling. teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip bitting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, cant walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail stractching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tangos, you could dracarys me like how you dracarys the Riverlands, or take me as a prize of war and i'd still ride you.

[dykedvonte]

I think Curly’s monologue in the How Fish Are Made DLC gives so much insight to why he thinks the way he does but is also so sad cause it’s just this anger from a person who no longer has the energy to be angry.

You can tell a lot of it’s directed at himself, his choices and how he thinks they affected the people in his life. How he tried to work with what he had and it just wasn’t enough both by the design and how he interacted with it. He’s bitter, he’s upset but he’s also accepting it in a place he really isn’t expected to. But then again that’s always a problem he’s had.

It really goes in tandem with how he is characterized in mouthwashing as we really don’t get those inner turmoils. He’s always trying to help people with theirs and his gets clouded through a different persons view.

[thatkarleesidraws]

"Should they come looking for me, I intend to be found."

[lunarharp]

..polly pocket au.. (<- a type of doll.)

[oobbbear]

I’m crying I cant stop turning sheep into tables

[knight-of-flowerss]

cregan stark headcannons for crushing or a blurb pls ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Hii!! I sadly haven’t watched season 2 yet so these are js going off fanon and stuff 😭

Also I’m sorry if this isn’t the best I haven’t wrote properly in a good few months 😭

HOTD Masterlist

CREGAN STARK HEAD CANONS || SFW ||

🃃 Cregan Stark is a stoic man. A Stark man. A full beard at such a young age (ik that in the show he don’t have a beard or summin but these are my head canons and he’s a Stark so-).

🃟 He’s the Winterfell darling basically. It was a running ‘joke’ that every girl wants him and every man wants to be him. And it was 100% true.

🃃 And this is how you ended up here. Staring at the young lord with adoration infecting your eyes.

🃟 Your young heart couldn’t contain the crush that had bubbled over. You had known of this man barely a few months and thanks to your brother, you saw him pretty much everyday.

🃃 Preparing for war wasn’t easy for anyone. But with Cregan’s dashing smile reassuring your family during this crisis, how could you not swoon?

🃟 His eyes, his hair, his beard, his smile. Everything about this man was perfect, you melted whenever you saw him.

🃃 Every time your mother was called into a meeting with Cregan, your brother and your step-father, you jumped at the opportunity to accompany her, claiming that “We’re family mother, we should stick by eachother.”.

🃟 Yes you just lied to your dear mother to get closer to your little crush, do you give a fuck? Fuck no. I mean have y’all seen the Starks? They’re literal sex gods.

🃃 In these meetings, you sat down near the vast table they often bickered at over battle tactics while you started in awe at them all, admiration of your mother, respect for your brother, intimidation of your step-father and desire for Cregan.

🃟 While sat in these meetings you’ll take sneaky glances over at Cregan and for a while, he didn’t even glance your way, give you a passing thought. But after a while you noticed his eyes… lingering.

🃃 One day you were walking around Dragonstone with Joffrey, admiring the sheer beauty of your home when all of a sudden, long dark locks catch your attention.

🃟 At first glance you thought it was Jace, he grew his hair out and really started to become your father more and more with each passing day.

🃃 You look down and see expensive furs trailing the floor as the cape the figure was wearing sweeped up any un-seen muck from the ground.

🃟 You trailed your eyes up and met with frosty-grey eyes peering back at you.

🃃 A sly smirk adorns his rough face, his eyes burning holes into yours.

🃟 Your cheeks flush as your lips part, plump and soft, your front teeth peeking through.

🃃 His large frame stalks towards you, boots beating on the stone floors, striding with a cunty confidence.

🃟 The seven had surely blessed this man. He was sent from the Maiden herself.

🃃 A shadow casts over you, the sun immediately cowering from your soft features. Your doe eyes peer up, looking past your dark decorated hair to trail up to his face.

🃟 After a lengthy few seconds of sexually charged silence, Joffrey speaks up.

🃃 “When are we going to the library sister?”

🃟 You blinked out of your trance. Your head moving towards your baby brother while your eyes stay on Cregan’s, but eventually your eyes drift away from him and set upon your brother.

🃃 “Uh- oh yes uhm, we’ll go now brother.”, your head moves to Cregan, “It’s nice to see you again Lord Stark, I hope it won’t be the last time we all see each other on this visit of yours.”

🃟 Cregan nods, once curved lips, that formed a smirk, fall into a flat line as he agrees, “Of course your grace, I’ll see you both in the hall for the feast.”

🃃 The next time you see the rugged man, it’s the feast in the hall a few hours later.

🃟 You were sat with Joffrey on your left and your other little brother Viserys. Your baby brother had smacked his food out of the maids hands so you offered to feed him something while she cleaned the very large mess.

🃃 Your hand dips the spoon into the oats to lift a hefty amount onto the cutlery, heading towards your huffy brothers opened mouth, little did you know his hand would fly up and smack the spoon into your face.

🃟 A shocked gasp left your mouth as you stared at Viserys, his face lighting up and giggling, you couldn’t help the soft smile that graced your oat-y features.

🃃 You quickly got up and went to clean up before anyone noticed and you didn’t want the attention on you due to your appearance.

🃟 But as you hurried through the doors to clean up, eyes followed your body across the hall. Cregan’s mouth curved into a smile and a small chuckle left his lips.

🃃 But, when you came back you saw something that angered you, more than any amount of oats poured on you could.

🃟 A young woman, a daughter of some Lord that was supporting your mother, was throwing herself all over Cregan.

🃃 And he was enjoying it.

🃟 ‘I shouldn’t be jealous,

you aren’t even mine.���

Tags: @thethreeeyed-raven @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Sasha using the title "Lord" in RiAAU after taking over Toad Tower and presumably killing Grime and stealing Barrel's Warhammer from him, and other political and military leaders assuming she's a man because, well, Sasha is a gender neutral name, so they hear Lord Sasha and assume they're talking about an adult male toad warrior. The second most powerful person in the known world and only real threat to the Leviathan reign!

Cue princess Marcy fleeing Newtopia and her father seeking refuge with his worst enemy hoping to offer information and political levarage in exchange for protection, perhaps even offering herself in marriage to transfer eventual inheritances and whatnot, and she finds out that Lord Sasha is not, indeed, a dark and domineering toad warlord, but a beautiful, terrifying girl her age that looks like her and oh god her poor little lesbian heart can barely take it.

[harringroveera]

Harringrove summer camp counselors AU?

[amiracleilluminated]

The Crush House, 2024

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Your our mini writings about kissing are amazing 😻🫠

May I super kindly request a combo of 16 and 9? 🙏🫶

16. A kiss in the rain / 9. A kiss to the eyelid with ???

Of course it had to be raining.

That's what Jeremy thought as he stepped out of mother's house with a couple precariously balanced boxes in his arms. He tried his best to hunch his shoulders, to let himself shield the flimsy cardboard from the buckets upon buckets of water falling out of the clouds. He scoffed, then sniffed as he shoved the boxes into the trunk of his car. As if today wasn't emotionally charged on its own, Mother Nature just had to be hilarious and deliver unto him a fucking thunderstorm. As if on cue there was a rumble in the distance, then a streak of lightning bolting across the sky.

When he blinked, the spidery afterimage of electricity remained for a moment. Jeremy shut the trunk and hurried back inside. He had to be done before his mother got home. William had already done more than could be expected of him. He had helped Jeremy pack up boxes, providing both copious amounts of coffee and the sort of fatherly support he'd never been granted in his life.

Jeremy supposed he would buy a new bed frame. Mattress. Desk. Desk chair. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to image dollar signs being whisked away with each big ticket item. But there was no way in hell he could transport those things on his own, in his car. And there was no way he could afford them on his own, either. Perhaps he would get a secondhand sleeping bag and convince himself it was fun to sleep on the floor.

As he hurried up the steps to his bedroom— not for much longer— Jeremy heard his phone ringing from where he'd left it downstairs. He ignored it to go grab a trash bag full of clothes, throwing it over his shoulder like a much less jolly version of Santa Claus. He took it with him back downstairs and was interrupted by William.

"Miss Dermott called you," he said, holding Jeremy's phone up. "It went to voicemail."

"I'll call her back when I'm done," Jeremy answered with a smile he could tell William didn't believe. Then he continued back to his car. At least his mother was letting him keep the car. Or at least she hadn't mentioned taking it away. If she had it repossessed, Jeremy supposed he would just have to walk. Or catch rides with his friends. He didn't think they'd mind lugging him around too much.

Just as Jeremy stuffed the majority of his clothes into his trunk, he heard a vehicle approaching and his heart stopped momentarily. His mother was home early. Or Bryson had come home to chase him off for taking one too many cookies from the cookie jar. Jeremy braced himself and slammed the trunk yet again, but it was neither of his relatives' cars that backed in next to his. It was a U-Haul truck. Jeremy blinked at it in confusion, then watched as three familiar faces climbed out.

"What do you think you're doing, doing this all by yourself?" Laila demanded as she ran to meet him, arms already open and pulling him in. Jeremy let her, hugging her back and burying his face against the side of her head. Jean and Cat weren't far behind— they stood just a breath away, each of them slowly getting drenched and wearing matching, mildly pissed off expressions.

"I don't have that much stuff. Not really." Jeremy said. He gestured to his car, all packed down and loaded up with the majority of his things already. "See? Almost done. What's the truck for?"

"This house does not need your bedroom suite any longer." Jean told him matter-of-factly. 

"Yeah, we're here to Robin Hood all your big stuff away." Cat said, producing a small toolbox from behind her back. 'Toolbox' was a strong word for it considering it was really a small pink backpack, though Jeremy knew it did have tools inside so it fit. "I think between the four of us we can handle breaking down your furniture."

"Yes, I think you'll manage just fine." William's voice startled the lot of them and Jeremy turned to see him standing just inside the door. "Come along though, you have got to be quick. Mrs. Wilshire is due home in..." the butler checked his wristwatch, "Ninety minutes."

"Then let's hustle, team. Let's go!" Laila said, leading the charge up the stairs. Jeremy watched them from the landing.

"Did you know they were coming?"

William merely blinked at Jeremy. "How do you think they knew to bring a truck?"

Jeremy can't stop a laugh from bubbling up his throat. "You're the best, William."

"Yes I know." William gave a sly wink before returning to his post in the kitchen. His livelihood might already be at risk thanks to Jeremy, he couldn't risk having dinner be late too.

-

The next seventy-four minutes included plenty of cursing, grunting, and heavy-lifting, but Jeremy's bedroom was now bare as newborn baby. All that remained was the carpet and the few glow-in-the-dark stars Jean couldn't pry loose from the ceiling. Oh, and the law textbooks which Jeremy placed square in the middle of the floor. The girls giggled at this petty act, proud of him, as they left the room with with his bed clothes in an enormous trash bag.

Jean bumped his elbow into Jeremy's. "Are you ready to leave?"

"Yeah. I really am." In the last few months, Jeremy had realized his family's love was either conditional or non-existent or both. Either way there was nothing left for him in this house. Jeremy took Jean's offered hand and the two walked down the stairs together. The girls were waiting by the front door, each of drenched with rain the same as Jeremy. Laila had a picture frame in her hand, which Jeremy raised a brow at.

"It's your grandmother," she said simply. Jeremy's throat tightened and he nodded a thank you.

Cat clapped her hands then. "We have approximately eleven minutes to spare. That's pretty good time, I think."

"Go team," said Jean with a smile, making them all laugh. Jeremy's came out a bit wet, but they had the good grace to ignore it. Cat moved to open the door and the rain was still pouring outside. Because of course it was.

"Um, I'll be out in a sec. I'm gonna say bye to William." Jeremy told them. His hand felt cold the moment he let go of Jean's to turn and head for the kitchen. He found William hard at work, in the middle of a five star meal. Jeremy's phone lay on the counter near his workspace. He picked it up to put it in his pocket without checking his messages. "Thank you."

William looked up at Jeremy from his cooking and gave a smile. "You are most welcome. I trust you have my number memorized still?"

"I do."

"Use it. I want to hear from you, to know you're doing well."

Jeremy swallowed as he worried with his keys. "I will. Bye William."

"Goodbye, Jeremy."

Walking back through the house, Jeremy worried with his keys. It took a couple annoying minutes, and one broken thumbnail, to pry off the one marked with a dab of black fingernail polish. He dropped the key in the mailbox attached to the house and shut the door behind him. The girls must have already taken shelter in the U-Haul, but Jean was waiting for him on the stoop. He looked like a drowned rat. A beautiful one.

"All done?"

"All done," Jeremy repeated with a nod. He trailed after Jean to the car and turned to look back at the house one last time, tears welling in his eyes. Well at least the rain's good for something, he thought as he felt a couple slip out. A second later, Jean had an arm around him. Jeremy stilled at the embrace before returning it, hands clasped behind Jean's back. He placed his forehead on the other man's collarbone and tried to get himself together enough to drive.

After a few seconds Jean's hand found his chin and lifted his head to press a kiss to Jeremy's eyelid. Jeremy's breathing hitched pathetically at the gesture, especially considering he'd witnessed Jean give similar affection to the girls. But he couldn't help it.

"They don't understand what a mistake they are making, throwing you away." Jean whispered against his forehead. "But they will one day. And they will live to regret it. You are too good for them and always have been."

"Je-"

Jean's thumb wiped the space under Jeremy's eye and he held his hand out. "Give me your keys, I'll drive us home."

Home, echoed Jeremy's thoughts as he stared at this lovely man. And then he placed his keys in Jean's palm.

[indiegamesource]

The Crush House by Nerial

[ofcrowsanddragons]

#5 for story time DLC De Riva edition if you'd like.

#5 Rook fighting against a Crow from a rival house

Please enjoy this surprise 3,000 word short story set Post-AWR and pre-Veilguard. The prompt is from @hyperions-light's De Riva Story Time Prompts ask game. Magpie Files tag here for more snippets.

Includes all the Dellamortes.

Tags: Outsider POV, pre-canon Rookanis, The Ridiculous Schemes of Magpie "Mags" "Rook" de Riva (in support of Teia's mission to turn the Crows into a family)

Warnings: Fledgling whump, injury, concerns about torture, disassociation.

🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛

Crow Games

“Does this scream ‘trap’ to you?” asked the Magpie, with a sidelong glance to their masked companion. The man tilted his head to the side in acknowledgement.

Ludovica Conti tightened her grip around the hilt of her rapier, growing irritated when her target just sighed. “Fight me, damn you,” said Ludovica, raising the tip of her sword. Tonight would mark either her death or her graduation from fledgling to full Crow, and she wasn’t going to give up her life without a fight.

It was an insult that Magpie de Riva didn’t even go for their sword. “Your grip is too tight,” they told her. “You're showing overt signs of stress. Do you even have a real contract, or did Massimo Conti just throw you to the wolves so that he’d be able to demand reparations?”

Licking her lips, Ludovica could admit to herself that it was the latter. It was part of why she hadn’t hidden the heraldry attached to her collar. The fact that she knew the game didn’t make a difference, either: the word of the head of her house was law. She and her little brother had joined the minor Crow house as orphans, and lived at his sufferance. If Massimo got what he wanted out of her death, he might choose to be merciful and not pass the failed contract-that-wasn’t-a-contract along to her brother.

She was also one of the best fencers in her age group. It was correct that he had chosen her.

Her feet were light against the stone, letting her fly toward Magpie. The stance was perfect, the blade raised in absolute precision as it darted toward Magpie’s heart.

An arm caught her around the neck from behind and jerked.

The momentum that had carried Ludovica forward left her gasping now. Her vision reeled as she tried to catch up to the fact that the masked man’s arm was now around her neck. She wheezed in the chokehold, realizing that she hadn’t even seen him move. Her neck hurt—unsurprising given the impact, and she felt nausea build up somewhere in her chest. She tried to establish where Magpie was in the room, but the light was too bright and the spinning sensation didn’t diminish. She couldn’t breathe.

“Yield,” said the man, increasing the pressure.

She dropped the sword.

A chair scraped across the polished stone floor, and it was at this point that the terror sweat began to break out across Ludovica’s body. Being killed outright was one thing, but the sound made it clear that she was to be questioned. She bit back a whimper.

“Mags,” the man said, and there was something in his voice that Ludovica couldn’t place.

“We’ll figure it out,” Magpie said, and this tone was easier to put into words. It was cold and dead, a mask of indifference and purely rational decision-making that all of them learned to put on at will. Ludovica took in a steadying breath as she readied herself for what was to come next.

The two Crows pushed her forward and she retched into a bucket that had been laid in front of her. OK, fine, she thought, struggling to make sense of it as she tasted bile, Smart of them to leave less mess to clean up.

Murmers in another language were passed back and forth between the pair as Magpie systematically searched her for weapons. With each pass, she felt a little more helpless, which was stupid, as she was already helpless. She had miscalculated by attacking Magpie in front of her mysterious ally, who was almost supernaturally good. That was fine. At this point, all she really needed to do was exist until she didn't have to anymore. It's not like she knew anything that Massimo considered valuable.

Her head was forced back, and a liquid was poured down her throat. She tasted elfroot—for the soporific effect, perhaps?—along with comfrey and lavender in some kind of astringent solution. Her stomach heaved, and she struggled against her captors without meaning to. Strong hands held her steady and one of the Crows began tracing soothing circles against the nape of her neck.

It was a mistake to relax into the sensation, and she knew it, but nothing really mattered anymore. She was already dead. Rising from somewhere along her spine, a pleasant floating sensation sunk its hooks into her gut, and she chased the little kindness of that touch for as long as it deigned to last.

For a long moment, there was only calm.

When Ludovica came back to herself—no, there was no coming back; she was already dead. She blinked through the tears as Magpie blurred into her sight. The Crow was seated across from her on their own stark, wooden chair. Their hands were clasped loosely on their lap and their expression was cool and professional. The hands of their companion were on the fledgling’s shoulders. He held her from the back, a clear threat and a warning not to move.

The instant she came back to full alertness, Magpie’s eyes flickered from the partner’s face down to her own, meeting her gaze with cool certainty. “Do you know happen to know,” they said, and the words were carefully neutral, “what the correct course of action for me to take right now is?”

Biting her lip, she found herself wishing she still had the excuse of the disorientation or headache for her poor comportment. Both symptoms had subsided almost entirely.

“Are you—” she coughed into her hand, despairing at the fact that the Crows didn't even feel the need to bind them, and willed her voice into steadiness. “Are you going for the professional mask, then?”

“Well, of the three of us, I'm clearly the one with the best poker face,” said Magpie, raising their eyebrows minutely.

She could barely feel the bruising that should have been laced across her throat as she croaked a laugh. “Does that mean your partner is the sadist, then?” she asked, trying not to break into hysterical giggles. “You’re the reasonable one, and he's the threat? If I tell you everything, will you even let me die?”

The dizziness was back. She was breathing too fast. Magpie didn't move, and the hands on her shoulders tightened just the barest amount and then forced themselves to relax. That was all right. The touch was grounding, if less soothing than the circles that she thought had been Magpie. She would allow it to hold her together until the Crows chose to do otherwise.

“How about we start by getting everyone on the same page,” stated Magpie. Neutral, neutral, neutral. Like Antiva, in a war between Ferelden and Orlais. “Tell me what should be done with you, according to our rules.”

“It would be correct for you to kill me,” she said, trying to flatten her voice. Magpie was patriotically neutral, and so was she.

“No.”

She ignored the fluttering of her pulse as she tried to speak around the dryness in her mouth. “What?”

“That’s incorrect,” said Magpie, and their words grew colder as they leaned forward to set their elbows against their knees. “After failing to find me while I was alone? After failing to even meet my blade, let alone wound me? The correct thing would be for me to tie you up and ship you home to your head of house. That would rather solve most of House de Riva's problems in one swoop.”

There was a scuffle that Ludovica was barely aware of, for all that she had initiated it. On her knees on the polished floor, she realized that her arms were being held at her back by the iron grip of her captor. She strained to look up at Magpie. “Don't,” she begged.

Magpie hadn't moved an inch. “How many people that you love is Massimo holding hostage for your ready sacrifice?”

“Everyone I have left,” said Ludovica, hating herself for it. They had barely touched her and already she was broken. “Please don't take my cowardice out on them.”

Those cold eyes looked deep into her own, and Ludovica shivered with the intensity of them. “Child, if you agree, then I am going to get every one of them out from under Massimo.”

A demon’s bargain. Ludovica licked her lips, not willing to cast aside the potential for a miracle when she had no better options. “How?”

“You're going to sit back in that chair,” said Magpie, their voice going polite and pleasant in a way that made the hairs on the back of her neck rise. “You're going to tell me everything you know about House Conti and its business. And then House de Riva is going to eat everything that Massimo has ever worked to build.”

The partner released Ludovica, and she caught herself with perfect balance, too unnerved to be grateful. She stood, slowly, and sat back in the chair. A slow turn of her head revealed the man leaning against the back wall, but Ludovica had to turn her back to him to look at Magpie. The man was still wearing his mask, anyway.

She was steadied by the ruthlessness in Magpie’s cold eyes, and she nodded. “What else?”

“We'll neutralize any threats to your family before Massimo learns anything” said Magpie, “but as a member of his house, I'm having you deliver the message to the First Talon that De Riva is making its move.”

“Can you authorize that?” Ludovica asked, instead of shouting, The First Talon?

Magpie tilted their head. “Viago could have me killed for it,” they said, and Ludovica appreciated the honesty, at least.

“Viago wouldn't and we all know it,” the partner interjected from behind her. “Beyond that, I would not allow it.”

“Thank you for that,” Magpie said with a warning look over Ludovica’s shoulder. “Viago would only kill me for it if he was already looking for an excuse. I don't think you realize how small of a player House Conti is.”

A huff from the man still leaning against the wall. “Even if he actually wanted you dead, Teia Cantori knows where he sleeps.”

“They haven't—”

“Well, not yet. But she’s a woman who knows her blueprints.”

Ludovica tuned the couple—who were almost definitely lovers themselves—out as they began to argue about the Fifth and Seventh Talons that they both referred to so familiarly. It was difficult for her to feel foolish when her head of house had underestimated the situation so thoroughly. She knew the game: he had gone after one of the Fifth Talon’s favourites. This might still end with every person she knew and didn't put on a safe list dead by the end of the week, but that was the hand Massimo had chosen to play. She didn't have any say in how it played out, other than what little leverage Magpie allowed her to bargain for.

Magpie’s partner didn't watch her so closely after that. Eventually, he left to get them food from the kitchen. Ludovica struggled to determine the hierarchy of the two Crows’ relationship. His manners were more polished than theirs were, but Magpie didn't defer to him, either.

The sun was starting to rise by the time Magpie (“Just call me Mags, seriously”) called for an end to the questioning. “We're just going to go in circles at this point,” they explained, cleaning off their pen and setting aside the journal that they had been filling with names and dates and gossip. “You’ve memorized the message that you need to deliver?”

Ludovica nodded, and when Magpie handed her the vial, she drank it without question.

When she woke, she was peering into the eyes of the most handsome man she had ever met. She blinked. And blinked again. He was still there, seated on a chair next to the couch she was lying on.

“Did it not work?” Ludovica wondered. “Am I dead?”

He grinned at her, and she blushed as her words caught up to her. “Hardly. The thought that I might make it onto the Maker’s choir?” he said, leaning back and putting a hand to his chest, “Ha! I tend to guide souls along from this side.” He graced her with a wink.

Oh no. The words had fallen right out of her head.

“Ah… but you're rather overwhelmed, are you not?” he asked, looking away and shifting away from her in a way that was rather endearing. Probably deliberately so. “Miss, do you know where you are?”

The pieces resolved in front of Ludovica, and she drew in a breath. “Did I make it to Villa Dellamorte?” she asked.

“Rather spectacularly. When we pulled you out of a shipping crate, we thought you were dead. It’s fortunate for you that the antidote was made so obvious to us.”

She nodded. “I have a message for the First Talon concerning House Conti and House de Riva,” she said with a steady voice. She had rehearsed it.

“I'm Illario, her grandson,” he said. “Please, let me take you to her.”

The Dellamortes weren't idiots, and they obviously knew she was an assassin, but she was also a young and recently-poisoned assassin. Any poison powerful enough to simulate death took at least a little while to throw off, after all. Illario still helped her to her shaky feet, as Ludovica stood up from where she had been lying on a sofa. She really should have guessed that the higher houses were all terrifyingly polite—with the emphasis on terrifying.

Fortunately, she was steadier by the time she was actually admitted to the First Talon’s study. She took a fortifying breath, let go of Illario's arm, and strode into the centre of the room.

Another man stood at the Talon’s right. He straightened from where he had been bent over a piece of parchment. “You don't need me here,” he objected, and Ludovica’s heart turned to ice as she recognized the voice. “The contract is solid as it is.”

But the First Talon's eyes had already found Ludovica.

It would have been less intimidating to be a sparrow caught in the gaze of a bird of prey. The woman was seated in a chair behind the desk as if it were a throne, and her hard eyes glittered like the multi-faceted masterwork of a gemsmith. Ludovica swallowed, feeling a tight, twisting sensation form under her breastbone, but her work tonight was too important. She refused to quail. “First Talon. My name is Ludovica Conti.”

“So I had determined. My name is Catarina. This is my grandson, Lucanis.”

Ludovica tried very hard to keep any expression from her face. “Pleased to meet you both,” she said, trying not to let irony colour the statement. “I have a message from Magpie de Riva on behalf of the Fifth Talon. The head of House Conti has attempted a grave injury upon both myself and Viago de Riva, not bound by the limitations of a contract. The Fifth Talon believes it is his right to enact justice upon House Conti for this, and he asks for your judgement.”

There was a long silence as Ludovica kept her head high. Catarina's stare seemed to bore directly into her soul. Ludovica tried not to think about strong arms holding her down on a chair, the man standing next to Catarina, or secret lovers meeting in a remote location that Ludovica had chosen as her killing ground.

“Granted,” said Catarina, and Ludovica held in a sigh of relief. House Conti was no more.

“That's it?” asked Illario, from where he still stood by the door.

The old woman smiled. “Do you think I don't get my own information on these situations as they develop? You young people are very dramatic,” said Catarina, as Ludovica held back a flinch, “but we must anticipate our allies as well as our enemies. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” Illario said stiffly, stepping closer and holding out his arm. “Ludovica, would you like something to eat? I'm sure our House can sort out a meal, even for an unexpected guest.”

Ludovica looked back over the desk and met Lucanis Dellamorte's eyes for a moment. She could see a cool and deliberate distance there. “Thank you for your hospitality, First Talon,” she said, looking back at Catarina. After everything, she truly was grateful for how gently they were going about getting information from her. She brought her hand to Illario's arm and allowed him to lead her through the villa.

She understood enough. Mags de Riva had the full backing of the Fifth Talon and enough sway with the Seventh to make Viago reconsider removing Mags from the board if the Crow ever became a threat. Beyond that, Mags had somehow become the lover of the First Talon’s grandson, and would presumably back his play for the position when the time was right. Ludovica shook her head at the audacity of it all.

Illario smiled at her. “What are you thinking, I wonder?”

“It's just such a big house,” Ludovica gushed, letting her blush colour her face. The man really was very handsome.

But the Magpie had earned—or was about to earn—Ludovica’s loyalty in a way that no one ever had. Mags's allies were also positioned more closely to the First Talon than Ludovica could have imagined, and that made asking for outside help more risky than the possible benefit. Sadly, it also made Illario an enemy of sorts.

Or it would, eventually.

In the meantime, Mags had said not to try to deceive the Dellamortes, so Ludovica told Illario the story. Most of it, anyway.

🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛

Later:

MAGS: Why do people think I’m some kind of evil genius?

LUCANIS: Why do people assume Catarina knows everything?

MAGS: Because it’s safer to operate under that assumption.

LUCANIS: There you go.

[beargregor]

Chef greg delivery just for you. it's a wonder I hadn't bearified him yet, he's my fave greg too 🔪

gays literally only want one thing (to be chopped up and eaten by a depressed man) and it's fucking disgusting

[aliengirl]

playing ts2 is making me wanting to play ts3 😭 anadius doesnt have it sadly