Tarquin Week 2025

Tarquin Week is a fanwork event celebrating the Shadow Dragon and Templar Tarquin. September 22-28, 2025 #DATarquinWeek

[tarquinweek]

Tarquin Week comes to a close! Thank you everyone for participating! 🎉

I'll be checking the tags for another few days in case you'd like to get some late works in - in the meantime:

See the works on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DATarquinWeek2025/works Check out everything reposted here again: https://www.tumblr.com/tarquinweek/tagged/DATarquinWeek

[vipertarquinexchange]

2026 Viper/Tarquin Fanwork Exchange Signups Open

This is an event to create fic or art of the ship and receive fic or art of them from someone else in return!

Sign ups will be open until Thursday, February 26, 2026 at 9:59AM UTC. (Click here for a countdown)

If you need an AO3 invite or have any questions, feel free to send this account a message.

AO3 Collection & Rules: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/vipertarquin2026/profile

Signup Form: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/vipertarquin2026/signups/new

2026 Schedule: Sign-ups Close: Thursday, February 26, 2026 at 9:59AM UTC Assignments Due: Monday, April 6, 2026 at 9:59AM UTC Works Revealed: Monday, April 13, 2026 at 9:59AM UTC Creators Revealed: Monday, April 20, 2026 at 9:59AM UTC

[rookfeathers]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Please sign up for the Tarquin/Viper exchange organized by @hezenkoss!

Sign-ups currently open until the 23rd, but might end up extended.

[johnnykitten]

You're correct! Tarquin Week 2025 was back in September. But if you ask me, every week should be Tarquin Week and therefore I finished my drawings just now. ;) [Tarquin Week 2025 | Prompts: Imperial Templars, Loyalty, Scars, Chosen Family, Romance, The Military ]

[tingling-sensation]

Shadow Dragons Found Family

A very late entry for @tarquinweek Day 4: Chosen Family (Day 1 | 2 | 4)

Thank you so much @kmackatie for letting me use your screen recordings!

[frek]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: The Veilguard (Video Game), Dragon Age - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ashur | The Viper/Tarquin Characters: Tarquin (Dragon Age), Ashur | The Viper Additional Tags: Personal Growth, Gender Identity, Self-Discovery, Getting Together, Happily Ever After, Trans Male Character, Canon Trans Character, Pre-Canon, Post-Canon, Tarquin Week (Dragon Age) Summary:

Tarquin’s life was defined by the armor he wore.

A series of vignettes over the course of Tarquin’s life, from his childhood until sometime after canon events.

Note: This story starts with a young pre-transition Tarquin, but in that scene does not use his deadname and he is already referring to himself with he/him pronouns, but does deal with his discomfort in being seen as a girl.

[lynaiss]

Loyalty 🗡️

Tarquin week (day 2!) piece, that just kept getting pushed aside by other things.

[melomelfic]

There has to be more than this, this…punishment.

Tarquin Week Day 6: The Military | The Archives | The Hideout

Chapters: 1/1 Words: 500 Rating: Teen & Up Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandom: Dragon Age: The Veilguard Relationships: Ashur | The Viper/Tarquin Summary: Tarquin longs for a new purpose.

[melomelfic]

The movements are a reflexive twist and slice, and a few moments later the shell lies open in his palm, its glistening prize on display.

Tarquin Week Day 5: Friendships | Romance

Chapters: 1/1 Words: 500 Rating: Teen & Up Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandom: Dragon Age: The Veilguard Relationships: Ashur | The Viper/Tarquin Summary: Tarquin and Ashur share a rooftop treat.

[rookfeathers]

for the free day of tarquin week i faced my greatest enemy - painting studies

[fadesense]

safe house celebration

day 7 for @tarquinweek; merged all the prompts (very, very loosely) shadow dragons | loyalty | scars | chosen family | romance | hideout

[necromanticsoul]

DA Tarquin Week Day 7

thank you @tarquinweek so much for the prompts, the organization, and encouragement. I've seen so many amazing works of art, editing, and writing from people this week.

For Day 7 - Free day

At Home In Your Embrace (AO3), Word Count: 3,335

The candles burned low and Tarquin rubbed at his eyes one one hand, the numbers on the ledger in front of him growing blurry. Stubbornly, he blinked the blurriness away and finished adding up the last column of numbers before setting his quill down.

“Go home Quin,” Ashur told him from across the table. “It’s late, everyone else is gone.”

The Templar’s eyes narrowed and he glanced up at his soulmate. “Only if you leave the shop as well.”

“There’s still reports to go over,” Ashur replied, shaking his head.

“And those reports can wait until tomorrow,” Tarquin argued. “Either come home with me or go back to the manor, but you’re not staying here tonight.”

Brown eyes met blue-green. Tarquin rose to his feet and held a hand out to Ashur.

Ashur eyed his soulmate’s hand for a moment before reaching out with one clawed glove and accepted the hand up. “I’ll have to leave at dawn,” he murmured as a warning.

Tarquin snorted. “How is that any different than normal? Come on, let’s go. I’ll call it a win if you can at least get a couple hours of sleep.”

They both knew Ashur had been getting even less sleep than usual over the past several weeks. Between the dragon attack a few weeks before and the Venatori’s growing influence over the Magisterium, it sometimes felt like they were fighting a losing battle.

Ashur did what he could to encourage change, but at every turn he faced opposition by members of the Magisterium. They had no idea how many magisters were in the pockets of the Venatori and how many simply opposed change. To make things worse, they knew that Knight Commander Lenos of the Templars and who knew how many Grand Clerics were also owned by the VenatorBetween the stress of dealing with the Chantry and the Magisterium and leading the Shadows, it was no wonder Ashur got so little sleep.

To add to all of that, they’d only seen their other soulmate a few times since then. Rook had answered the Shadow’s request the night of the dragon attack and managed to drive the beast off, but had been running themselves ragged since then. Tarquin knew Rook carried a heavy guilt over night being able to help Treviso as well. The Antivan city had been blighted by the second dragon, and hundreds had been killed or had sickened of the blight since then. The Shadows sent wait aid they could, but no one could remove blight from the waterways.

Rook had returned to Minrathous long enough to check in on the Shadows and help where they could, clearing darkspawn out of the catacombs and taking out pockets of Venatori, but they hadn’t been able to spend more than a few hours with Tarquin and Ashur.

Once they’d reached Tarquin’s apartment and shut the door behind them, the men undressed each other slowly until they were in their underclothes by magelight. Ashur stretched out on Tarquin's thin mattress and held his arms out to the Templar. Tarquin sighed and let himself fall into bed, Ashur's arms encircling him. Ashur let the mage light flicker out, and they lay together in the quiet darkness.

“Alex and I used to do this sometimes,” Tarquin noted as they felt Ashur's lips ghost over his neck. “They were always complaining that the bed was too short.”

“They aren't wrong,” Ashur observed. The bed was only just long enough for him, and tiny compared to the bed at the Divine's manor. He couldn't imagine what it was like for a qunari. “We may have to correct that.”

“Yeah, assuming Alex ever spends the night again,” Tarquin snorted, and Ashur sighed at the hint of bitterness in his voice.

“I'd like more time with them too,” Ashur admitted. “But their job with Varric-”

“Keeps them away,” Tarquin finished for him “I know. That doesn't mean I have to be happy about it.” Rook’s own actions had required them to be sent away for their safety in the first place, but the job they’d been on with Varric kept them away. “I suppose I got too used to having them around after the bond first formed. You’ve barely gotten the chance to know them.”

“I’ve seen enough to know why you love them, and I’ve learned enough to care for them myself. I think I could love them, given time, and not only because we’re bound to them,” there was a note of certainty in Ashur’s voice.

Tarquin froze against Ashur a moment as that four letter word slipped from the other man’s mouth. None of them had ever said it aloud, even if it had been etched into every gesture they made towards each other. The Templar felt Ashur massaging his scalp, carefully taking out the braids that Tarquin normally wore his hair in, and slowly relaxed against his human soulmate.

“They’re stubborn, like you,” Tarquin murmured to Ashur. “And now I see them taking on so much, too much maybe. Another way they’re like you. But that’s probably one reason why I love you, and why I love Alex.”

Ashur kissed the back of Tarquin’s neck. “I love you too,” the Black Divine replied quietly. He sighed. “I know with who we are, we may never have much outside the Shadows or our private moments, but I will take every moment I can get with you, with both of you.”

“Then you’d better rest, because I don’t want you dying because you were too tired to pay attention to the Grand Clerics or some other stupid political shit,” Tarquin told him firmly.

Ashur chuckled softly and nuzzled Tarquin’s neck. “As you say, Amatus.” ****** Tarquin leaned over the map of the city and tapped the depiction of a catacombs entrance not far from the Threads market. "If we enter here I think we can-"

His words broke off as he felt an almost overwhelming sense of dread. The Templar's eyes flickered about the hideout, trying to figure out what had caused this sensation. He saw no threats, no dangers within the hideout, so why did he feel like he was facing his impending doom?

"Tarquin? Tarquin are you alright?" Marisa's voice brought him back to himself and Tarquin tried to shake the feeling.

"Just an off moment," he told Marisa, trying to shove the feeling down. "As I was saying, if we enter here, we can take the tunnels towards the warehouse district."

They both heard the audible flap of a cloak and looked up, seeing the Viper enter the room, cloak flaring around him as he turned and began to pace. His mask might cover his lower face, but they could both see the tension in his body language.

"I'm sure they will be fine, Ashur, Rook knows what they're doing," Maevaris said as she entered on the Viper's heels.

"What's going on?" Tarquin demanded.

Ashur stopped pacing and turned to face Tarquin. "You felt it too, Quin. You felt Rook's fear. Whatever they're facing right now, it isn't good."

Tarquin's heart sank like a stone as he realized the source of his dread.

It wasn't his dread he and Ashur were feeling, it was Rook's. Somewhere out there, their soulmate was facing something that terrified them. “What do we know?” the Templar asked.

“The last message Rook sent said there was some emergency with the Grey Wardens,” Marisa ventured, considering the two of them seriously. Everyone knew that Ashur and Tarquin were together. The two of them thought they weren’t being obvious at first, but it was hard to fool sharp eyed Shadows. Marisa had had her suspicions about Rook and Tarquin for a few years. Seeing Tarquin and Ashur like this not only confirmed those rumors for her, but also confirmed Ashur’s interest in Mercar.

But them speaking about feeling Rook’s fear? That had an entirely different and more serious implication. No one else was in the room but the three of them, and she wondered if Ashur had meant to say what he had in front of her.

“Maybe you two should go to Tarquin’s for the evening,” Marisa suggested diffidently.

Two sets of eyes, brown and sea colored flickered her way, and she saw the worry written.

Tarquin shook his head, turning back towards the map. “If we go back to my place, we’ll just end up worrying. I’d rather work.”

“If you’re sure..” Marisa eyed him for a long moment.

Ashur moved over to the table and looked down at the map. “Alright, tell me what you’ve got planned so far.”

***** The missive from Neve sent a wave of uneasiness through the Shadows.

Weisshaupt had fallen. The Grey Warden fortress that had stood for centuries against blights and the threat of darkspawn was no more. Rook’s team had succeeded in killing an Archdemon, but at least two thirds of the Order had been lost. All of Rook’s team had survived, though not without injuries, and many of them felt demoralized in the wake of that battle.

Tarquin set the missive down with an exaggerated casualness as he turned the news over in his mind. He could guess now what it was Rook had been facing the night before when he and Ashur had felt their fear through the bond.

A Maker cursed archdemon, and Rook had faced the thing head on with the Grey Warden Davrin and Neve. The blighted dragon that had attacked Minrathous seemed bad enough. He couldn’t imagine what it had felt like to come face to face with an archdemon. The Templar glanced down the stairs, towards one of the storerooms that now held enchanted ballista bolts that Ashur had enchanted in the wake of the dragon attack. If the dragon resurfaced and attacked again, they had to keep it grounded and kill it, and Ashur wasn’t taking any chances. Tarquin recalled the weariness in Ashur’s eyes when he’d emerged from the storeroom, but the mage had been satisfied with the enchantments.

They had a defense against the blighted dragon if it returned, but what about darkspawn? Rook and her team had already cleared darkspawn out of some of the tunnels twice. What would happen now that the Grey Wardens had been almost decimated?

How much harder would that make Rook’s fight against the risen gods?

How likely was it they would see darkspawn in the catacombs again?

It was late by the time Ashur finally made it down to the shop. The Viper dropped in from the roof entrance, his eyes flickering around as if looking for someone, then he sighed and moved to the table where Tarquin was distracting himself by reading reports.

“Any further news?” Ashur asked quietly as he took the chair beside Tarquin.

The Templar shook his head. “Nothing since Gallus’s message. We know everyone on Rook’s team made it out, but from the missive, it sounds like they’re trying to hold their team together through sheer force of will right now after what everyone faced at Weisshaupt.”

Ashur carefully pulled the report from Tarquin’s fingers and set it aside. “Mae mentioned you’ve reread that same report three times now. Go home, Tarquin, there’s not much we can do until we get more news.”

“I want to be here in case-” Tarquin began.

“Lorelei’s already arranged for a rotating schedule to keep at least one or two Shadows in the shop so someone’s always here if Rook or one of their allies sends a message,” Ashur assured him. “If they hear anything from Rook, they’ll send for us.”

Tarquin’s expression was pinched. He hated admitting when was feeling unnerved, and Ashur knew that better than almost anyone but Rook.

“Come on, Quin,” Ashur cajoled. “It’s already after midnight, and you have an early shift at the archives tomorrow.”

“Aren’t you needed at the Spire?” Tarquin asked a little acidly.

Ashur took no offense, knowing it was just Tarquin’s worry that made him so acerbic. “Not until first serve,” he replied. “Come on.”

Tarquin grumbled, but he finally let Ashur pull him to his feet. The two of them slipped quietly from the shop and made their way to Tarquin’s apartment. Ashur more or less wrestled Tarquin into bed, curling around the wiry man, his arm heavy around Tarquin’s waist.

It was still a long time before Tarquin fell into an exhausted sleep.

***** There were days when Tarquin’s life felt like nothing but paperwork. He’d spent the day filing reports in the Archives and filling requests, barely a moment to sit down and eat lunch, and upon entering the shop that night, he’d been met with a stack of reports from other cells in Tevinter that needed to be reviewed and sorted. Tarquin muttered as he settled at his desk to work.

Ashur slipped in an hour or so after Tarquin arrived, sighing as he settled into the chair beside Tarquin and tried to take part of the stack of reports. Tarquin shot him a glare, but the Viper stubbornly took half of the remaining stack. Tarquin eyed his soulmate for a long moment, but finally grunted and turned his eyes back to his own reports. Ashur chuckled softly behind his mask.

The two of them had made a good headway through the stack of reports after a few hours. Tarquin set the latest report he’d read in a stack of information to sift through later when Marisa approached them quietly, her brow creased with worry. “Tarquin, Ashur, you may,” she paused and lowered her voice. “Rook’s in the back room near the Eluvian. I’ve managed to keep the others away from them, but I think you should check on them. They were here with Neve earlier helping her with a case. Neve’s left, but Rook’s still back there.”

Ashur and Tarquin exchanged a look and rose to their feet. Neither of them had seen Rook since before Weissaupt, and that had been almost a week ago. They moved to the back room where the Eluvian sat and found Rook slumped over on a pile of pillows, staring blindly at the half wall and the city beyond.

“Rook?” Ashur asked softly.

They gave no sign of hearing him, not even a twitch, and Tarquin crossed to kneel before them, regarding the qunari seriously. Their eyes stared blindly forward, and their eyes were glassy with tears.

“Shit,” he murmured. “Alex?”

Slowly Rook responded, lifting their head off one of the pillows and looked at him, then looked away like they were ashamed.

“None of that, Alex,” Ashur said firmly as he joined Tarquin, “What’s wrong?”

They shook their head, still looking away. Ashur could see the tears beginning to stream down their cheeks and reached out, gently tracing a tear with one clawed glove.

“Alex, talk to us, please,” Tarquin whispered urgently.

“You know, no one else has called me Alex since I left with Varric?” they said softly. They shut their eyes. “It’s been Rook since I joined Varric’s team. Rook’s how he introduced me to Harding, to Neve. Rook’s the one who made the call to come here first. Rook’s the one who confronted the First Warden.” They gave a soft, bitter laugh. “Rook’s the one who’s supposed to have the answers.”

Tarquin sat next to Alex on the pile of cushions, and Ashur sat on their other side, pressing close to the qunari as they gave a shuttering breath. “I can’t think about what would have happened here if I hadn’t come, if we hadn’t driven the dragon off. It terrifies me to think of Minrathous in the state Treviso is in, blight in the water, people dying, people blighted.” They slumped slideways, stopped from falling over by Ashur’s frame. “I saw you blighted in my dreams, Ashur. I can’t bear the thought of that happening.”

“You drove the dragon off, and we’re safe, Alex,” Ashur told them soothingly, putting an arm around their shoulders.

“But Treviso’s still blighted.” They shuttered. “We found Crows blighted, Crows I knew. Chance Candide’s last words before he died were to thank us for killing him after he’d become a darkspawn.”

Tarquin winced at the thought of Ashur blighted, the thought of any of the Shadows turning into the twisted creatures they’d seen in the catacombs. He brushed some of Rook’s blond white hair from their face. “Feeling guilty means you care, Alex, but Treviso wasn’t your fault. The fault lies in the hands of those risen gods.”

“And they’re still alive,” they murmured. “Weisshaupt was..I thought D’Meta’s Crossing and Treviso was bad, but there was nothing left of the fortress when Ghilan’nain was done. I’ve read Evka and Antoine’s reports about trying to dig through the ruins for any survivors.”

Tarquin looked at them, pressing his finger lightly along the dark circles under their eyes. “Alex, when was the last time you got any sleep?”

They shrugged. “Don’t know. Any sleep I do have is interrupted by nightmares, or that bastard Solas. Doesn’t matter. Varric asked me to lead the team because he couldn’t, and everyone keeps looking at me like I’m supposed to know what to do.”

Tarquin muttered under his breath. “Come on, Alex, we’re going home. You’re staying with us tonight.”

“The team-”

“Can live without you for one night,” Ashur added firmly. “Do any of them know what you’re feeling right now?”

Alex shook their head. “Someone has to put on a strong front. Everyone was shaken by what happened at Weisshaupt.”

“Alex, you don’t have to keep that front up with us,” Ashur told them gently. They opened their eyes and shoved a fist over their mouth to muffle a sob.

“We’re leaving now,” Tarquin said firmly.

Between the two of them, Tarquin and Ashur pulled Rook to their feet and guided them out of the shop and through the streets to Tarquin’s familiar apartment. As they stepped through the doorway, Tarquin swore he could see the masks come down. He pushed them towards the bed. Ashur helped them remove their armor and Tarquin rearranged the pillows and thin blankets, then held an arm out to them.

Alex collapsed gratefully onto the bed and buried their face in Tarquin’s thigh. As Ashur removed his hat, mask, and cloak, they let out a broken sob.

Tarquin wasn’t sure how long they cried, and he and Ashur simply held them, providing the company and comfort no one else had since all of this began.

“We’re here, Alex,” Ashur murmured quietly as he rubbed their back. “We’re yours, and you’re ours.”

Tarquin's pants were damp from their tears. Even now they pressed their cheek against his leg, their eyes shut against the candlelight.

Tarquin threaded his fingers through their blond white hair, massaging their scalp. He knew the burden that Rook carried. He knew of all people in this world the only ones they'd turned to for comfort were himself and Ashur.

Ashur shifted on the bed beside him, observing Rook quietly. "They're asleep," he advised quietly. He bent forward and pressed a gentle kiss on Rook's cheeks, then leaned in and chased a kiss from Tarquin's lips.

"Good," Tarquin sighed. "They haven't slept much at the Lighthouse. Not with that elven asshole in their dreams. "Help me shift them."

Between Ashur and Tarquin they managed to get Rook to lay on the bed. That Rook didn't awaken at all was a testament to their exhaustion. Tarquin stretched out beside them on the side of the bed against the wall. Ashur stretched out on their other side, placing his head on the lumpy pillow beside Rook's.

It was a tight fit, but they were all together and alone for the first time. Tarquin rested a hand on Rook's hip, and Ashur entwined his fingers with the Templars. "Sleep Tarquin," Ashur rumbled.

"Only if you promise to," Tarquin snarked.

Ashur chuckled softly and squeezed the other man's hand.

Tarquin sighed, feeling himself slowly sink into sleep to the sound of his soulmates' heartbeats.

[sidneysussex]

day 7: free day

“Do you trust me?” Tarquin asks him.

“Of course,” Ashur says, but it’s not a fair question, not really. He doesn’t know what Tarquin is asking. He doesn’t know what his yes might mean.

The rain falls faster. A trickle of it snakes its way under the collar of Tarquin’s cape, where the leather is cracked, and down his shoulder. It makes no difference to him; the tunic underneath is already uncomfortably wet.

Tarquin says, “You had me followed.”

Ashur sighs. “I did.”

“I don’t have people I trust followed.”

“Wouldn’t you?” Ashur says. “If everyone at headquarters was counting on that trust? If it meant keeping Lorelei or Huxley or Bren safe?”

“And you think I might be the—”

“I don’t think anything, Tarquin,” Ashur cuts him off. “I don’t have the luxury of making assumptions. If that comes at the cost of—”

“Of what?” Tarquin demands. “Of my trust?”

Ashur looks at him—no easy task in the darkness, in the rain. “Of your friendship,” he says, “then I’ll… understand.”

Teeth clenched, Tarquin growls in frustration. “How about,” he says, “for one minute, Ashur, you stop being such a bloody martyr?”

“What do you mean?” Ashur asks.

“Stop being so willing to go along with everything!” he says. “Stop telling me it’s all right if I hate your guts! Is that what you want from me?”

Ashur is silent. The rain intensifies. Tarquin’s shoulders are soaked, hair clinging, one eye half-closed against the assault from the skies. Water is dripping off Ashur’s hat and off the points of his collar, slicking the stamped scale motif of his coat, running in rivulets from his boots down the tile of the roof. Tarquin feels like a drowned rat and knows he looks it; Ashur, on the other hand, might as well be sitting in the sunshine for all it seems to be affecting him.

Softly, he says, “No.”

Tarquin turns his hands palm-up in a universal gesture of exaggerated helplessness.

Ashur says, “I want you to trust me.”

Tarquin opens his mouth to respond, but Ashur keeps talking.

“I didn’t have you followed because I don’t trust you,” he says. “I had you followed because it’s the only way I know to keep everyone safe. We know Lenos is a problem. How many other templars are in his pocket? When Mae or Dorian or Marisa ask me how I know you’re not one of them…”

Tarquin blows air out between his teeth. Droplets of rain cling to his moustache, run along his cheeks and down his jaw to soak his beard and tunic. “I know,” he says fiercely. “You don’t need to tell me. Just—”

“I trust you,” says Ashur. “Look at me.”

Tarquin does.

Ashur reaches up and unbuckles the mask. It’s not the first time; Ashur takes it off whenever they’re alone at headquarters, just him and Mae and Dorian and Tarquin. And, suddenly, Tarquin feels like an idiot. What does it matter if someone follows him back to his pathetic flat, if someone sees the mess he calls his life, in the face of this? There’s a power in having nothing—a safety—and that’s something Ashur will never have, and yet here they are. Tarquin knows Ashur’s face and his name and his seat in the Magisterium and his title in the Chantry and if he were a Venatori spy—or just someone who wanted a ticket out of the slums—then he’d have it. With what Tarquin knows, he could have anything he wanted.

Almost anything, anyway.

“All right,” he says. “You’ve made your point.”

“No,” Ashur says. “Not yet. Not quite.”

“What more d’you want from me?”

Ashur looks at him and, even in the dark, with the rain sheeting down, it feels like he can see straight through to Tarquin’s core, into the place where Tarquin keeps all his secrets.

He leans closer and Tarquin is struck by two opposing impulses, half of him tensing as if to scramble backwards until he slides down the roof, half of him straining to keep himself from pushing forward until his face is inches from Ashur’s—or closer still—and—

His face is inches from Ashur’s. Their eyes meet.

Ashur lifts one rain-slicked hand as if to reach for him, but the gesture stills in midair. Everything waits.

“Oh, for—fuck’s sake,” says Tarquin, leans in, and kisses Ashur. The rain falls on them, between them, and he can hear it hammering on the roof tiles, feel it in his hair, taste it on Ashur’s lips. The air smells of ozone and Ashur’s hand is warm on the back of Tarquin’s neck and, any minute now, it’s going to start hailing or the Venatori will attack or the Maker himself will tear open the Fade and strike Tarquin down for daring to approach His mortal flesh.

None of those things happens. The kiss ends. They stare at one another.

Ashur kisses him again.

The rain is heavy like a curtain, like a cloak. There’s no moonlight; below them, the streets are invisible. Minrathous may as well be empty.

“I’m not easy,” Tarquin warns him, staring out into the grey of night, looking anywhere but at Ashur.

Ashur laughs, a soft sound that almost disappears into the downpour. “I’ve been told the same,” he says.

Tarquin leans into him and, together, they watch the rain fall over Minrathous.

[stitchcasual]

Steal Tarquin's Cloak!

For Tarquin Week free day, I decided to bully Tarquin and make some edits to my thieving mod

The mod no longer require a swap library to play nice with other mods! You can simply download and enjoy.

Mod includes collar up version (^) and collar down (v), and has options to replace either the Raiding Mask (Iron) or Crown of Leaves

For Tarquin romancers and mischievous Shadow Dragons! Now you, yes you, can bully Tarquin too.

[loustica-lucia]

Tarquin Week — Day 7: Free Day

Day 1 ✦ Day 2 ✦ Day 3 ✦ Day 4 ✦ Day 5 ✦ Day 6 ✦ Day 7

Some time off writing letters with his emotional support mabari♥

WIPs:

For @tarquinweek🐍💕

Bonus: That's what I wrote on his paper hehe

[johnnykitten]

My contribution to Tarquin Week 2025. I still have the thumbnails for every other tag laying around, but couldn't manage to finish anything but this one for now. O_Q Loved the event btw. [Tarquin Week 2025 | Day 7 - Free Day]

[surnumanaja]

Free of Duties

Details

Sometimes an illustration happens into being because of some small event makes a thought to roll, this time it was: a llm generated image of an knight laying in field of flowers was shared in tqvp hivemind discord → people being disappointed that it wasn't made by an real person → "okay but wouldn't it be cool if it was Tarquin in templar armour instead?" → "do i actually want to reference a llm generated image?" → 💡 remembering scene where Fred Jüssi falls asleep in a field of tall grass from nature/portrait documentary The Beauty of Being (2020) (1:33 in the trailer) → it's accompanied by voice over „All this talk about work and success. /…/ Until you have no time for yourself. You have to have time for yourself.“ → "oh ok it's about free moment then. maybe it could fit in Tarquin Week?"