#and admissible means valid

[hakusins]

first exam tomorrow and im still confused on the diff between inadmissible and admissible

[moonstruckme]

hi mae! i’m not sure if you’ve done this already but i was wondering you could write james x slytherin reader where she heard some things being said about her and was feeling angsty but james was there to comfort her! btw, i love your writing! <3

Thank you lovely!

cw: academic competition (plus some anxiety), reader is a bit mean to be honest which isn't me trying to shit on slytherins it's just how it came out

James Potter x slytherin!reader ♡ 750 words

There’s something wrong with you. James has been thwacking his wand against his book relentlessly for the past thirty minutes, and you’ve not done so much as cut a look his way. And he knows the jumper he gave you when you shivered is your least favorite (that, he would’ve avoided if all his others didn’t need to be washed), but you haven’t complained even once about how the knit itches against your skin. You’re only laid placidly on your stomach next to him on the bed, scribbling away at your notes with a familiar dent between your brows that seems yet deeper than usual. 

“Hey.” James bumps your shoulder with his lightly. “Have you started Slughorn’s essay?” 

“Mhm,” you hum distractedly. “Finished last night.” 

He grins. “Course you have. Any insights into what he meant by the second question? The wording’s stumped me.” 

You don’t even sigh reluctantly as you lean over to look at his parchment. James’ concern for you worsens. 

“I think he means that he wants us to theorize about a potential mixture by using our knowledge about existing ones.” 

“Ahh, I see.” James thought the same thing, but it never hurt anyone to get a second opinion, especially if that second opinion seemed to need cheering and thrived off academic validation. He plants a smacking kiss on your cheek. “Thanks, lovie.” 

“That’s just how I interpreted it,” you add. “I’m not certain.” 

“Yeah, okay.” James abandons his reading and rolls onto his side. “What’s going on with you?” 

“I’m just trying to do my homework, James,” you say tiredly, going back to your own parchment. 

“No,” he says certainly, “something’s wrong. You’ve just second-guessed your answer.” 

“And what? Just because I’m not positive means something has to be wrong?” You give him a sideways look, the first hint of annoyance he’s had from you all afternoon. It tells him he’s on the right track. 

“Something like that.” James reaches up to your temple, playing with your hair in the way you pretend to hate but secretly love. “Also, you were fine this morning but ever since you got back from class you’ve seemed down.” 

You harumph, as good as an admission. 

“Don’t hold out on me,” he coaxes. “Something happened during class, yeah?” 

You pretend to be reading something on your paper, not looking at your boyfriend. “Nothing important. Collins called me stuck up, but I hardly give a shit what she thinks.” 

James feels his eyebrows rise. “Siobhan said that?” 

You grunt in affirmation. 

“During class?”

“Well, she hardly waited ‘til we were in private.” 

He strokes down some of your baby hairs thoughtfully. “Sweetheart, do you remember last week in class when Siobhan tried to answer a question in Astronomy?” 

You scoff. “Yeah, she thought Jupiter had sixty five moons. What a dunce.” 

“Right. And you told her that to her face, remember?” 

“What’s your point, James?” 

“I’m just thinking,” he says carefully, “that Siobhan might’ve taken offense to that. And, perhaps, she may have wanted to try to embarrass you like you embarrassed her.” 

Your hair falls away from James’ fingers as you sit up, irate. “Well, that’s stupid,” you say. “I called her a dunce for missing an easy question, and she called me stuck up just because I did better on the Herbology quiz than her.” 

“Sounds like she’s jealous,” he agrees. “But I mean, it’s hardly your fault. You’re smart.” 

“I know!” James has to smother a grin at the return of his normal, confident girl. You cross your arms over your chest, huffy. “And I don’t even rub it in everyone’s faces all of the time, which I could.” 

“Best to let it lie, sweetheart.” He sits up to give you a kiss, pleased when you relax under his touch. “The poor girl’s already down in the dumps. Don’t let her get to you.” 

“You’re right,” you say, and now James can’t keep his grin at bay. That’s not something he gets to hear often. “Don’t look at me like that,” you snipe. “I’m just saying, she’s probably suffering enough. It would be difficult to be that dense.” 

James laughs. He plants another kiss on your lips, making you scowl. “That’s my girl.” 

[bliss-in-the-void]

No bc Satoru has this whole hallucination-dream-limbo sequence where he’s talking to Suguru about how he wanted to give Sukuna his all to get through to him and show him how he understood his loneliness only to have Suguru go “…you’re making me jealous.”

As an author, what Gege did here is genius because that is such a loaded statement to make in response to Satoru processing his fight with Sukuna. It can mean so many different things and we, the audience, are free to interpret exactly how Suguru meant it.

On one hand, you can say he said he was jealous because he wanted to be the one Satoru fought with all his might. He wanted to be as strong as Satoru, to match him in prowess, and hearing that Sukuna was the one to do it instead made him jealous.

On the other hand, you can say that he said he was jealous because Satoru recognized that Sukuna was lonely and wanted to get through to him, something that he was too late to recognize in Suguru when he was descending into madness, and that in turn made Suguru jealous because it was as if Satoru was saying “I recognized the loneliness in him and wanted to do something about it” when he failed to do that same thing with Suguru.

I personally interpret it the second way more (the first one is very valid, but I just see things the second way), because of the next lines.

He made Suguru cry. While laughing. Once again, holy shit is that such a loaded scene. What did Suguru’s tears mean? We have never seen him cry before. Not when Riko died, not at any point when he was losing his mind, not even when he died by Satoru’s hand. So why, when Satoru said he wished Suguru was there to wish him luck before he fought, did he finally get brought to such strong emotion that he cried?

Was it because he was happy to hear that Satoru still thought of him, even in his final moments?

Was it because after all these years, Satoru never thought ill of him and pictured him there beside him, and he was relieved?

Was it because he regretted making the choices he did that led to him not being there by Satoru’s side?

Or, in a very indirect way, was it an admission of love from Satoru that made Suguru happy?

I wonder that, because of these panels from Chapter 238:

Kashimo asked Sukuna, “if you’re so satisfied being alone, why did you refuse to die and turn yourself into cursed fingers?”

Sukuna’s response is, “Love is worthless. I’ve never needed anyone to satisfy me.”

Which is a directly opposing statement to the one that Satoru had just made to Suguru.

Sukuna: I only have to worry about myself and I get to do as I please. I am satisfied by myself. I don’t need love.

Satoru: I worried about everyone else my entire life and I was controlled by the society. I was not satisfied, but I would have been if you had been there with me, Suguru.

That. Is. Powerful. Those panels imply that love is what made Satoru weak. He did not feel complete because he didn’t have Suguru. He had all of the power in the world, he had status, he had students that depended on him, other friends even, and he still was not satisfied because Suguru wasn’t there.

Sukuna on the other hand recognized how detrimental love was because of what it did to people, how it made them weak, and he decided he didn’t need it.

Those panels were such an indirect-direct conversation between Satoru and Suguru.

Essentially, they were saying:

Suguru: You fought with all of your might and I wish that you recognized my loneliness so that I could have been there with you

Satoru: I was at the peak of my power and I had the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I was allowed to go all-out to fight yet I just wanted you to be there with me

It’s just. Ugh. They’re saying they want each other in the most infuriatingly roundabout way.

[nattikay]

bedtime

NOTE: stä'noli should be stolä'ni, that was a pretty rudimentary mistake and I'm not really sure what was going on in my brain when I wrote it but 😅 maybe i'll fix it on the image later but i can't be bothered right this minute, i'm already up way later than I should be as is (have an early day tomorrow)

Further language notes/rambling under the cut!

"wait, isn't Jake supposed to be spelled Tsyeyk in Na'vi?" Yes it is! And if I'd given that line to a monolingual Na'vi speaker I would've spelled it that way. BUT Neytiri is bilingual and does not pronounce it "Tsyeyk" (I mean, technically she doesn't say "Jake" either, it's more like "Zheyk" but w/e). So for her specifically I keep the j. I suppose at that point I could've just kept the English spelling completely, but leaving silent letters at the end like that makes things weird in written Na'vi given all the grammatical endings that can be applied (not that that matters in this comic because they weren't needed for the line but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

Speaking of Jake, writing Na'vi dialogue for him is fun to me because he's not a native speaker which means I'm free to give him all sorts of beginner habits and/or mistakes, especially given that by his own admission he struggled learning the language. However, since I'm working within a pretty broad time frame, I had to remind myself that he wouldn't be a beginner forever.

I bring this up because there are two aspects of Jake's dialogue here that I was going to point out as...well, not wrong, but as more "English-y" habits I'd headcanoned he might hang on to...but on further reflection changed my mind because I realized that at the time of this comic he's been living with the Omatikaya for nearly ten years and would be pretty much fluent. I still left it written that way but am no longer headcanoning that that's ~just how he talks~ at this point in his life. After all, if I'm conscious of these habits after just two years of studying the language as a casual hobby, is it really believable that he'd be clinging to them after nearly a decade of full daily immersion, even with his self-admitted struggle with language learning? 😅

Anyways, for the sake of rambling about my hobby regardless, one of these aspects was using SVO word order, like English. Na'vi is a free-word-order language, so SVO is valid, but most Na'vi speakers are not going to stick to it exclusively. I think Jake, like many native-English-speaking learners, may have relied on this word order earlier on because that's just how his brain has been wired to process information, but at this point I think just by sheer exposure he'd have broken out of any strict adherence to it, intentional or otherwise.

The other thing is concerning possessive. The standard Na'vi grammatical ending for possessive is -yä. But Na'vi grammar also includes a concept called inalienable possession, which refers to things that are intrinsically yours and cannot be given away. What exactly qualifies as inalienable varies between languages that have such a concept, but with Na'vi it's most commonly seen with body parts. Inalienable possession can be marked with -yä, but there is a slight preference to mark it with the topical, -ri, instead. So, compare:

Peyä mehinam lu ngim. His legs are long. Pori mehinam lu ngim. His legs are long (lit. "concerning him, the legs are long")

Both of these are considered acceptable, but the -ri version is considered just slightly "better" (for lack of a better term).

You'll notice that Jake uses peyä instead of pori here; this was because the peyä structure is a more direct equivalent to the English construction, so it's pretty common for new learners to use it instead of -ri. And again it's not wrong, so it's not exactly a mistake per se. So it seemed like a reasonable "Englishy-but-still-technically-correct" habit for Jake to hang on to. And I do still think that may well have been in the case...in his earlier years 😅

soooo yeah. I will still probably be giving Jake some of those speaking habits in comics and such that take place only 2-3 years after A1, but once you get to around 10 years like this one...yeah I think it'll make more sense to just write his dialogue like that of any other fluent Na'vi-speaking character lol

[mmountseb]

Your Shirt

Warnings: fluff, mentions of sex

Notes: haven’t wrote one in so long and decided to finally give it a go hope you like it

Your Shirt - Mason Mount fluff

As Mason lays beside Y/N in his bed, his heart swelled with a potent mixture of desire and pride as he gazed upon her wearing nothing but his England shirt, with his name proudly displayed on her back.

As much as she was from a different country she still felt the need to wear his country shirt with his name on her back

The fabric draped over her curves in a tantalizing display, accentuating her beauty and igniting a fierce sense of possessiveness within him.

He wanted her in a way they hadn’t been intimate yet

With each glance at her, Mason felt a surge of desire well up inside him, knowing that she had chosen to wear his shirt, a symbol of their connection and intimacy.

The sight of her wearing it filled him with a sense of validation and belonging, as if she had willingly wrapped herself in his identity, embracing all that he was.

It was the deeper, more profound sense of intimacy and trust that it represented.

In that moment, as they lay together in the quiet intimacy of their shared space, Mason felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the woman beside him, for her unwavering support and love.

As he reached out to trace the letters of his name on her back, Mason couldn't help but feel a surge of desire course through him, the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips sparking a fire within him that burned with a fierce intensity.

Their bodies pressed together in the quiet intimacy of their shared space, as much as he was supposed to be paying attention to the film she had picked he couldn’t help himself but letting his mind wander to how would it feel to have her ride him while wearing his name on her back

His mind was travelling to forbidden territory, fueled by the intoxicating sight of her wearing nothing but his England shirt.

With each gentle movement she made, the fabric of the shirt shifted against her skin, accentuating her curves and igniting a primal desire within him.

As he watched her, a vivid image began to form in his mind—a fantasy of Y/N pleasuring him while still wearing his shirt.

The thought alone sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine, his body responding instinctively to the imagined sensation of her hands roaming his skin beneath the fabric.

Lost in the intensity of his desire, Mason couldn't help but hug her from behind while hiding his face on the curve of her neck and pulling her even closer enough to let her know that he was turned on

Y/N's innocent apology cut through Mason’s reverie, snapping him back to the present moment with a jolt.

He blinked, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the realization of where his thoughts had taken him.

Y/N: "I'm sorry, Mase. I didn't mean to... you know, make you feel... turned on."

Her words were tentative, laced with a hint of uncertainty as she glanced at him, her cheeks tinged with a delicate blush.

Mason: "No babe it's not your fault. You have nothing to apologize for."

His voice came out a little too hastily, a touch of awkwardness coloring his tone as he tried to reassure her.

Mason: "I mean, it's just... you look really good in my shirt, and... well, I couldn't help but let my mind wander a bit."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at his candid admission, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she processed his words.

Y/N: "Oh, um... thank you. I guess I didn't realize the effect it would have on you." She said turning around to face him on his embrace

Mason: "Yeah, well... you have that effect on me, Y/N. You always have."

His words came out softer than he had intended, tinged with a vulnerability he hadn't planned on revealing.

But as he looked into Y/N's eyes, he knew that he couldn't hide the truth from her—that she had always held a power over him, a power that transcended words and boundaries.

Y/N's smile widened at his admission, a warmth spreading through her at the depth of his feelings

She felt bravely enough to bite her lips and take her hands to his hair.

Not before taking his hands further down on her body earning a gently tugging on her soft but cheek

Y/N: "You have that effect on me too”

In that moment, as they shared a knowing glance, Mason felt a sense of connection and understanding wash over him

He felt the need to pull her even closer even if it wasn’t physically possible anymore

As their eyes locked in a shared moment of understanding and vulnerability, the air between them crackled with unspoken tension. In a surge of longing and desire, Mason leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from Y/N's.

With a whispered exhale, Y/N closed the remaining distance, her lips meeting his in a kiss that ignited a firestorm of passion between them.

Their mouths moved together with a fervent hunger, each touch sending sparks of electricity coursing through their veins.

His hands found their way to Y/N's waist, under the shirt, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss, their bodies melding together in a primal dance of desire.

Y/N responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pressed herself against him, her heart racing with the intensity of their connection.

Their kiss was filled with an urgency born of longing and need, each touch a silent plea for more.

They lost themselves in the heat of the moment, the world falling away as they surrendered to the raw, unbridled passion that consumed them.

In that fleeting moment, as their lips met in a fervent embrace. There was no turning back anymore now

Lost in the intensity of the moment, they surrendered to the fire that burned between them, their kisses growing more urgent and desperate with each passing second.

Time seemed to stand still as they melted into each other, consumed by the raw passion that ignited their souls

Mason reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from Y/N's face as he searched her eyes for any sign of regret or hesitation after pulling away from the kiss

Mason: "Are you okay? I didn't mean to... I mean, I hope I didn't..."

Y/N silenced him with a soft kiss, her lips meeting his in a tender embrace that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

Y/N: "I'm more than okay, Mase. I've never felt more alive than I do in this moment."

Mason felt a surge of relief wash over him at her words, his fears and doubts melting away in the warmth of her embrace.

Mason: "Good. Because I... I don't want to stop kissing you. Ever."

Their laughter mingled with the soft sounds of their shared breaths, filling the air with a sense of joy and contentment that seemed to transcend time and space.

Y/N: "Then don't. Kiss me again."

And with that simple invitation, Mason leaned in, capturing Y/N's lips in another electrifying kiss

[nerdallwritey]

Cheeks All Flushed (Part 1)

***IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: Unfortunately this chapter was longer than tumblr wanted, so I've split it into two posts. The smut is in the other part if you'd rather skip shenanigans and Get To Business. And that's valid! Part 2 is here and also linked down below. Apologies! It IS all in one place on AO3 if you'd prefer that!

Summary: You looked at him thoughtfully. “Hang on, weren’t you and Karlach trying to get drunk?” Astarion giggled stupidly. “Yes.” You snorted. “How’d that go?” “Fine,” he sighed. “Takes me a lot longer to get drunk. What with the dead liver and all.” You furrowed your brow. “Wouldn’t lacking a working liver make you drunk immediately?” Astarion whined, “I don’t know, but Karlach is completely inebriated and I only have a buzz I can already feel fading. OR It's time for the Tielfing party! Antics ensue.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 23.1k (This particular part is 18.5k) CW: smut, reader is new to sex, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of Astarion's past trauma, soft Astarion, porn with feelings, consumption of alcohol, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), the other companions are also idiots, reader likes kids, shenanigans amongst friends, general party antics Spoilers: Spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.) Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 3 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find Part 1 here and Part 2 here. Find the masterlist here.

a/n: Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who's read the first two parts!! It means so much to me that you guys are enjoying my writing and silliness. This chapter is much more slice-of-life than the last two parts, in that it's mostly fun at the Tiefling party with less smut. It's also the longest part so far! Apologies to those of you here for vampire penis, it'll show up again in the future surely, but tonight is more about tipsy/soft Astarion. I hope you all enjoy :) (Thank you once again to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!) As a reminder of where Part 2 ended, you and Astarion just entered camp after dallying, even though Shadowheart told you not to. Rest in peace, you will be missed.

Taglist: @a66-1, @khaleesiofthewolves, @khywren, @lollipopsandlandmines,

@minestrones, @mizuki-nautilus

It was Wyll who spotted you first. He’d been wandering close to the treeline, gathering extra kindling for the fire, but something told you he’d also been keeping an eye out for you.

“You two are in heaps of trouble,” he muttered, ushering you behind Karlach’s currently vacant tent. “You’re lucky it was me who saw you first.”

“How is she?” you whispered, looking around to see if you could spot Shadowheart.

“I think seeing you might calm her down,” Wyll said, “but be prepared for an earful.”

“Oh please,” Astarion scoffed. “I’ve dealt with worse than an affronted cleric of Shar-'' He stepped out from behind Karlach’s tent and was met face to face with the cleric in question.  

“What was that?” Shadowheart’s hands were on her hips.

Astarion retreated, shielding half of his body behind you. “Hello, Shadowheart,” he waved his fingers delicately and smiled awkwardly. 

You leaned over to Wyll. “Save yourself,” you muttered. “We’ll be fine.”

Wyll gave you a sympathetic look and nodded. “Coming, Karlach!” he called, to which Karlach responded, “What?”

Shadowheart stood before you, looking frustrated and tapping her foot. You adjusted the pile of blankets in your arms. 

“Got the blankets,” you said sheepishly. Astarion raised his pile up a little higher in agreement.

“What was the one thing I said?” Shadowheart ignored the blankets.

You sighed. “‘Don’t dally.’”

“Mhm. And what did you do?”

“We-”

“Astarion?” Shadowheart turned to the vampire. 

He let out a reluctant whining sound. “We dallied.”

Shadowheart looked pleased by his admission. “Whose idea was it?”

You and Astarion shared a look. 

“Don’t tell me, I already know it was Astarion’s,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes.

Astarion scoffed. “You don’t know that!”

Shadowheart raised a doubtful eyebrow and looked at you. You avoided her gaze. She looked back at Astarion. “Yes I do.” 

“Darling,” Astarion hissed at you.

“I didn’t say anything!” you hissed back.

Suddenly Shadowheart grabbed Astarion’s left ear and your right ear and pulled you both out from behind Karlach’s tent. You and Astarion protested as you went.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!”

“Ah! Watch the hair, you heathen!”

Shadowheart flung her arms forward, releasing both of you and sending you stumbling forward towards the roaring fire. You caught yourselves before crashing into the flames. 

“You could have KILLED us just now!” Astarion exclaimed.

Shadowheart ignored him. “Look who’s finally back,” she addressed the rest of camp. 

Lae’zel scoffed, pausing the loud sharpening of her greatsword. “I must give you credit, Astarion, you last longer than I would have thought.”

Astarion straightened. “Thank you, I- hey.”

Lae’zel rolled her eyes and returned to her blade. 

“Sorry, everyone,” you said, feeling your cheeks heat up. “We lost track of time, that’s all.” You adjusted the blankets still in your arms.

“We have nothing to apologize for,” Astarion said, moving close to you and going to kiss your cheek, but thinking better of it when he saw steam pouring from Shadowheart’s ears. “Sorry,” he said to her softly. 

Shadowheart pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head disapprovingly. She clapped her hands together before she spoke. “Okay,” she said and turned to face you, “go wash those blankets and hang them to dry.” You nodded and she turned to Astarion. “Once you help carry those blankets to the lake, you are to help Lae’zel hunt for tonight’s dinner.”

Astarion made to argue. “But-”

“‘But’ nothing. I want the two of you as far away from each other as possible until everything is prepared for tonight’s festivities.”

“Here, here,” Gale agreed from over by the cookware. 

“Oof, tough break,” Karlach smirked. 

Astarion sniffed. “Just because some of us aren’t getting laid, doesn’t mean all of us should suffer the same fate.”

You hid your face in the laundry you were holding and groaned loudly. 

“Watch it, Fangs,” Karlach warned.

Shadowheart took you by the shoulders and turned you towards the lakeshore. “Go,” she said, a bit of a bite to the word. 

“Yes ma’am,” you sighed and started making your way to the waters gently lapping the sand by Withers. 

“You too, Astarion,” you heard Shadowheart behind you. 

“I’m going,” Astarion spat. His footsteps caught up with yours. 

You dropped the blankets by the waterline and grabbed the bucket and soap that you kept nearby for laundry duty, one of your commonly assigned chores. Astarion’s pile of blankets joined your own, then his arms came around your waist from behind, and his chin came to rest on your shoulder.

“Sorry, love,” he murmured, kissing your cheek. 

“At least we’re not dead,” you leaned into his caress. 

“You are so incredibly out in the open it’s unbelievable,” Shadowheart called from a few yards away. 

“GIVE US A MOMENT,” Astarion snapped back in her direction. He turned to look at you, his frustration turning into fondness. “I’ll see you soon.” He kissed the crown of your head just as Lae’zel began to complain. 

“Let’s go, vampire. Before someone else steals what is rightfully ours.”

“I’m not anyone’s!” you complained to the sky above you.

“Is it truly so hard to believe that she actually likes me?” Astarion asked as he made his way to his tent to prepare for the hunt.

“You are handsome but weak,” Lae’zel informed. “Far from the optimal pleasure partner.”

“I could make you eat those words,” Astarion teased.

“You would not last a single minute with me,” Lae’zel said and then returned to her own tent to prepare. 

You sighed, embarrassed but not surprised by the camp’s reaction to your delayed arrival with Astarion. There was no talking your way out of it, especially with Astarion’s line about getting laid. The bastard. He could be so annoying sometimes.

At least you didn’t have to dance around it. Even though less than twenty-four hours ago you would have insisted that there was nothing going on between you and the Astarion, now you smiled to yourself, happy that that was no longer the case. 

“Thou hast now a bosom companion-”

“MISTRESS OF REVEL,” you yelped, clutching a hand to your chest to slow the pounding of your heart. You exhaled and turned to see Withers looking more or less unbothered. “You scared me, Withers.”

“Take care that thou are not distracted on thy quest, seeking the comforts of the flesh.” 

You stared at him. “Gods, you sleep with a guy ONE time.”

Withers stared back.

“Okay, two times.”

The stare continued.

“Okay, so he made me cum, like, five times total, is that what you want to hear?”

Withers said nothing. 

You groaned and picked up a blanket, hiking your pants up your legs. “Whatever, stop looking at me.” You waded out into the water, blanket in one hand, soap and bucket in the other. 

“Recall that in time, all becomes dust and bone.”

“All becomes dust and bone,” you mocked quietly. “You’re a pretty morbid guy, you know that?”

You looked over at him and swore you could see a small smile before his expression faded into one of cool indifference as usual. 

~~~~~

It had taken nearly all afternoon to finish washing and hanging all the blankets to dry on  the makeshift clothesline you’d erected lining the water’s edge, but you’d done it. Shadowheart had been kind enough to cast Lesser Restoration on you to combat the fatigue of blood loss and to help fade the marks still leftover on your neck. As a result, all you’d suffered from washing was some mild back pain from constantly bending to dunk and soap the blankets and standing back up to hang them. Laundry out here wasn’t the easiest task, especially without the proper tools you’d usually find in the city, but you enjoyed the peace that came from the still waters of the lake. Today, you’d been extra thorough in your work and you were pretty sure the blankets were cleaner now than they had been when Astarion had nicked them from your companions in the first place. 

Speaking of your companions, Shadowheart was doing her best to keep Astarion away from you for as long as possible. When he’d come back from hunting with Lae’zel, she’d made him help Gale prepare the meat.

“Even though I can’t partake in the meal,” he’d protested, “I have to help prepare it? Really?”

“Ah, relax,” Gale smacked him a little too hard on the back, “you can drain it dry first. Much easier if you go to town on the creature rather than letting me exsanguinate it myself with a blade.”

“I’m not some personal predator,” Astarion crossed his arms. A beat. “But fine, I suppose I can help this one time.”

After he’d drained tonight’s meal, a large wild boar, Shadowheart had sent him and Wyll to scavenge for more wine at the Blighted Village. He’d complained about the long trek and the poor quality of the wine they’d probably find, but Wyll had been able to drag him off after a bit of flattery and the batting of eyes. The man was too easy sometimes. 

By then, the sun hung low in the sky and you’d asked Karlach to come stand by the blankets and act as a heater to speed up the drying process. 

“Do you miss him already?” she teased.

“Who?” you teased back, adjusting another blanket.

“Do you loooove him?”

You sputtered. “What?! No! I mean- I don’t know! This is new for me, and new for him and we’re figuring things out, we’ve barely talked about it and-”

She laughed at your word vomit. “Was it good?”

You paused. “Was what good?”

Karlach rolled her eyes. “You know what.”

You felt your cheeks heat up and your heart begin to pound. “Can we not talk about this?”

Karlach groaned. “Come on Soldier, I’m so pent up it’s criminal! I know I’d ride him to the Feywild and back if I had the chance.”

“Karlach!” You whisper shouted. Luckily the others were too busy with their assigned preparation tasks to pay attention to the two of you huddled behind the damp blankets. 

She didn’t say anything, but raised her eyebrows at you to encourage you to talk.

You sighed and avoided eye contact. “It was really good,” you muttered, hoping she might not hear you.

A smug smile graced her lips. “I knew it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved her off, wringing the water out of one of the blankets on the end of the clothesline. 

“He seems like the type who’d know his way around.”

“Yeah, well.”

“And how does he compare? Best you’ve ever had?”

“Um…” You pursed your lips.

“Wait, but you just said it was really good?”

“It was!”

“But-?”

“There is no but! He was really good!”

“You’re hiding something, Soldier, I can tell. He wasn’t the best you’ve ever had?”

“It’s just that… there haven’t been… others… to compare it to.”

Karlach stared at you. “WHAT?!” Her flames erupted to the point where you had to take a few steps back. 

“Shh! Quiet!” You listened for your other companions but heard nothing. 

“Don’t tell me Astarion was your first?!”

“And so what if he was!”

“The smug bastard,” Karlach muttered. Her face grew serious. “If he so much as looks at you wrong, tell me, and I’ll kill him.”

You laughed. “Shadowheart’s first in line to kill him, but don’t worry, I’ll have you waiting in the wings.”

“I’m serious. I’ll kill the pointy freak before he can hurt you, mark my words.”

You laughed again, moving closer to her now that her flames were calming. “Astarion and I are both adults. I’ll be fine.” Your voice went soft, “And I think he truly cares for me.”

Karlach huffed in disbelief. “Gross little vampire probably smelled your virgin blood and couldn’t keep away.” 

You narrowed your eyes at her. “Don’t be ridiculous. He likes me.”

“We all like you,” Karlach sighed. “You’re a lot of fun.”

“Thank you.”

“But none of us would want to see you get hurt by the leech.”

“You know, I think he’s more sensitive than you all realize.”

“Astarion.” It was more of a statement of disbelief than a question. She raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

“Yes.”

“Mr. ‘Tell Me How You’d Like to Die?’ Mr. ‘Describe How I Look in the Mirror and Tell Me I’m Beautiful?’ Mr. ‘I Have A Troubling Relationship with Power Over Others?’” She looked at you pointedly. “Mr.-”

“Alright,” you cut her off. 

“No wait, I've got another.” Karlach held up her finger like she was about to say something. “Nope. Lost it. Damn, it felt like a good one, too.”

“We all have our quirks,” you said, steering the conversion back on track. “Astarion, I think, has a few more than one might deem acceptable, but I trust him. He’s been true to his word about everything so far.” Your voice got small, “And I really like him.”

Karlach blew out a breath of resignation. “I know you do, Soldier.” Her hesitance turned into thoughtfulness. “And he did look pretty smitten when I found you both this morning.”

Your face went red at the memory. “Gods, that was so embarrassing. I still can’t believe we fell asleep out there.” Your brain took a second to process what she’d said. You turned to look at her, a small smile forming. “‘Smitten?’ Do you really think so?”

Karlach rolled her eyes affectionately. “Yes, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

Your small smile grew into a smirk of satisfaction. You grew giddy. “You should have heard him, Karlach! He was so sweet, and gentle, and he kept checking in with me, and didn’t make me feel awkward or bad, and his body, oh my GODS, his body! When I say he’s unfairly beautiful, it truly is unfair because, how in the Nine Hells do you get abs like that and-”

Karlach was watching you with a fond smile on her face. She grinned and lifted a hand to stop you. “Okay, okay, I believe you. He took care of you.”

You sighed happily. “He did.”

“I’m glad.” After a moment, she sighed dramatically. “Okay, so maybe he didn’t just fuck you in some sort of weird vampire power play because you’re a virgin.”

“Karlach!” You furrowed your brows. “Seriously?”

“Oh, sorry,” she amended, “you were a virgin.”

You scrunched your nose at her. “You’re so lucky you’re a walking inferno, otherwise I’d punch you so hard right now.”

“You don’t have the guts,” she teased. “You’re too soft, Soldier.”

“I am,” you sighed in agreement. 

The two of you stood in a pleasant silence while Karlach paced back and forth to dry the blankets evenly. 

“I’d hug you if I could, you know,” she said quietly. “I am happy for you. And if anyone is getting laid around here, I’m glad it’s you.”

“Thanks?” you laughed. 

“But if he gives you any trouble, you come find Mama K, yeah?”

You saluted her playfully and she mirrored you.

“Your guests dost approach from the east.”

“WITHERS,” you stomped your foot, pretending to be upset, but smiling over at him. “We need to put a bell on you to remind us that you’re still alive.”

“I am not still of this realm of existence,” Withers corrected.

“You know what she means, skelly boy,” Karlach grinned over at him and then at you. “Come on soldier, let’s go greet our adoring fans.”

Karlach led the way to the center of camp where sure enough, Halsin and the tieflings of the Emerald Grove were emerging through the brush. Halsin caught your eye and waved affably. You waved back, happy to see him looking so well after the rescue from the goblin camp. 

Behind him, he tugged a cart meant for an ox, filled to the brim with food and booze and the eight troublesome kids who’d been kind enough to show you their hideout hidden beneath the Grove. Mol hopped out first, followed by Arabella and Mattis and the others who looked around briefly before zeroing in on the abandoned little temple past the waterfall in the corner of camp. They made their way over to it and disappeared inside.

Noted. You’d have to check on them later.

Suddenly a flash of blue and pink was launching itself at you and you stumbled backwards as it wrapped you in a tight hug.

“Alfira!” you wheezed, returning her hug.

She pulled away, grinning. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day!” She was positively giddy and her mood was infectious. “I need to get some wine in me first, but we must play something together!”

Your smile faltered a little. “I’d love to, but my lute’s a little worse for wear.” You led her over to your tent and gathered a few pieces of the shattered instrument from your bag.

“Oh, you weren’t kidding.” Alfira took the pieces and examined them closely. 

Lakrissa found her way over to you. “Is this one causing trouble?” she asked, playfully slinging an arm around Alfira’s shoulders. “She was buzzing all afternoon about this shindig.”

“Hi Lakrissa,” you greeted happily. “No, I was actually just showing her the state of my lute.” You pulled a loose string out of your bag to emphasize your point. 

“I’ve seen this before,” Alfira took the string from you and inspected it along with the few shards of wood you’d already handed her. “The music overtook you during a particularly powerful song and your trusty instrument suffered the consequences. Did you bash it into a rock in a fit of musical liberation? Been there.”

You gritted your teeth sheepishly. “I wish it was in a fit of musical liberation. No, I kind of got backed into a corner protecting Astarion from a bugbear attack.”

“The mouthy one?” Lakrissa asked.

“You’ve met a mouthy bugbear?”

“No, Alfie, I mean their mouthy friend. The one with the hair?” She lifted her hand up to her own head to try and emphasize the height of his hair. 

“Oh yeah! Hard to keep track of you all,” Alfira shrugged.

You laughed, “Think about how we feel! There’s a billion of you!” You gestured around to the tieflings that were now acclimating to your spruced up camp.

Shadowheart had done a great job of tidying the clearing of fallen branches and mischievous weeds and had gone around making sure that everybody’s tents were in order. With the help of Lae’zel and Karlach, the three had managed to move a large log into the center of camp that was acting as a table that currently housed the booze your party had gathered, along with the food Gale had been preparing all afternoon. 

Gale, as soon as he’d declared the meal to be sufficient, had gone around hanging colorful banners throughout the camp with a few magic words and the snap of his fingers. You’d offered to help him in his effort but he politely declined, citing Shadowheart’s wrath. 

Now Halsin, Zevlor, and a few of the other adult tieflings were unloading the cattle cart and adding their hoard of food and drink to the table. Shadowheart and Gale were already filling goblets with wine and Lae’zel was chatting with (or maybe threatening) a tiefling that you recognized as one of the guards at the gate to the Grove. Karlach waved over at you from where she was talking with Dammon and you returned it happily.

You turned back to Alfira and Lakrissa. “Sorry Alfira, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to play with you tonight.”

“Nonsense!” She took you by the hand and led you and Lakrissa to the cattle cart. She pulled out two lutes and held one out to you. “One’s my teacher’s. I’ll play hers and you can borrow mine for tonight.”

You took the instrument she offered carefully, testing its weight in your hands. It was lovingly worn and smooth to the touch. You gave an experimental pluck at one of the strings. Perfectly in tune. You strummed a chord and minor illusioned Gale’s robes to go from deep purple to a loud, obnoxious orange. 

Gale paused in his pouring of wine as Shadowheart snorted. He looked down at his robes then looked over at you smirking at him. “Hey…” He scolded with no ice behind his words. He addressed Alfira and Lakrissa who were holding back giggles, “You realize you’ve just given her a literal instrument to channel the weave more potently, and now she can make tonight extremely irritating for us all?”

“You missed my illusions,” you teased, strumming again and returning his robes to their royal purple hue.

“On the contrary, we were only gifted about twelve blissful hours without you tormenting us with your tomfoolery.” 

You pouted at him teasingly. “How sad.” You poised your hands, ready to strum another chord. “I could make things so much worse,” you threatened, your voice lowered to a stupid octave.

“Behave,” Shadowheart raised her eyebrows at you, but you could see the amusement that played at her features.

“Fine,” you groaned and turned back to Alfira. “Thank you for this, I promise not to attack another bugbear with it for the sake of the mouthy one.”

A voice sounded from behind you. “The mouthy one?”

Astarion came to stand beside you, his hands clasped behind his back and skin speckled with blood spatter. For some reason, he absolutely stank. 

“Oh gods,” you said, scrunching your nose and turning away. “Did you and Wyll wander into a stinking cloud or something?”

“Hello, dearest,” he purred, pulling you to him and puckering his lips for a playful kiss, but you pushed his face away, avoiding his mouth at all costs.

“Get away from me, freak,” you laughed as he was able to plant a kiss on your cheek with a loud “MWAH.” He looked very pleased with himself. 

Alfira and Lakrissa, meanwhile, watched this display politely with their noses plugged.

Lakrissa gestured between the two of you. “When did this happen?” Her voice was nasally. 

“He’s always been a jackass,” you said.

“She means, love, when did you finally pluck up the courage to confess your undying love for me?” The flamboyant lilt in Astarion’s voice made you smile. 

“This just happened, actually,” you said, pointing from you to Astarion. “The stink is extra new.” 

“Do you like it, darling? A gift from one of the goblins at that Blighted Village. They weren’t pleased we came for their wine, stink bombs were thrown, blood was spilled, a tale as old as time.”

“Did you get to murder a bunch of goblins?” Despite the topic, you spoke to him as if he were a child. 

“I did,” he said, his voice gravelly, his face twisted in a wicked smirk. 

“Good for you. Now get the hells away from us.” You pointed in the direction of his tent. “I don’t know why you haven’t already scrubbed your skin raw to get rid of that smell. You hate things of a vile nature.” You adjusted your accent to sound like him as you said the last bit. “Though you do love gore.”

“I had to share this delightful experience with you first, my sweet. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” You gave him a teasingly sour expression and pushed him off in the direction of his tent. “Get fresh clothes and go jump in the lake or something! Then burn that armor!”

Astarion grabbed your arm and pulled you closer again, much to your dismay and protest. He brought his mouth to your ear. “Care to join me?”

You met his gaze, which flickered down to your lips for a moment, only for a roguish grin to spread across his face. You grew flustered and looked away.

“Maybe later.”

He chuckled, “Can’t wait.” Then he spun on his heel and headed off to his tent.

“Sorry about that,” you said, turning back to Alfira and Lakrissa, only to discover that they’d already walked away. You spotted them pouring themselves some wine a little ways off and sighed. 

“They left ages ago,” Astarion called over his shoulder.

“And you’re still here?” you called back, smiling. 

He laughed and you settled Alfira’s lute safely within your tent before you meandered your way over to Rolan and his siblings who were seated not far off. Rolan was bent over, his eyes closed in concentration. 

“Evening, folks,” you greeted and were met with joyful hellos from Lia and Cal.

“You’re just in time for Rolan’s extremely cool magic trick.” Lia teased.

“That is, if he’d hurry up and do it already,” Cal added.

“Patience,” Rolan said. “Have you no respect for showmanship?” He cracked his knuckles enthusiastically. 

Cal leaned forward and whispered loud enough for all of you to hear, “Having performance issues, Rolan?”

“Hush, you,” Rolan rolled his eyes.

“I, for one, love a good bout of showmanship,” you settled in next to Cal. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Rolan gestured to you, vindicated. “Thank you,” he said through gritted teeth as he looked at his siblings. He took a deep breath. “And…”

A burst of colorful light erupted from his hands as he lifted them into the air.

“...behold!” He exclaimed as the colors faded into tiny bursts of light, dissipating like fireworks.

You clapped excitedly. “Beautiful!”

Rolan looked over at you, clearly pleased. “Adoring applause? You’re too kind.” He bowed dramatically, making a show of his gratitude. 

Lia turned to Cal. “Remember when he could barely cast that?”

Cal nodded. “They grow up so fast.”

Something caught your attention from a ways off. Peeking out from behind the large cluster of rocks you found yourself facing was Silfy; the younger sister of Mattis, the tiefling child who tried to sell you a “lucky ring.” Astarion had halted your hand when you went to give him a coin, shaking his head and explaining that you were being scammed. 

Now, however, Silfy seemed alone. You remembered how upset she’d been when you caught her trying to rifle through your pockets. 

“Never have I met such troglodytes,” you heard Rolan laugh. “Now, pass the wine.”

“I have to take care of something,” you said as you stood up. “I’m sure I’ll see you again before the party’s over,” you smiled and waved, making your way over to Silfy’s hiding spot. 

You saw her see you and duck behind the rock. 

“Hello,” you coaxed gently, bending on your knee to level your height with hers. Silfy poked her head out but looked nervous. “It’s okay,” you encouraged. “You’re Silfy, right?”

She came out slowly and nodded. 

“That was a pretty cool show just now, huh?” You said, referencing Rolan’s trick which she’d no doubt seen. 

She nodded again and looked at her feet.

“What are you doing over here all alone?”

She sniffled. “Mattis was mean to me.”

You tilted your head. “What did he say?”

Silfy looked up at you. “He said Mol would never let me in her Guild in the city because I’m no good at pick-pocketing.” Her voice wobbled and you could tell she was trying not to cry.

You hid a smile. The things siblings fought about… And this particular fight was extra unusual. “Should we go talk to him?” you asked.

“Okay,” she said and watched as you stood. 

“Come on,” you said and took her hand.

Together, you and Silfy walked around the length of camp, passing people as you went. You tossed out polite greetings and a few kind words, but eventually made it to the waterfall and the slippery log that connected your camp to the little temple where you knew the other kids were hanging out. You held tight to Silfy as you crossed the log.

Mol stood by the entrance. “Silfy!” she exclaimed, clearly happy to see her. “There you are.”

Silfy let go of your hand and approached Mol. “Sorry I’m no good at pick-pocketing,” her voice barely audible above the roar of the waterfall a few feet away. 

“Is that what Mattis said that made you run away? Ah, don’t listen to him. You’ll get plenty of practice before we reach the Gate.” 

Silfy stood up a little straighter and looked pleased. 

Mol cocked her head towards the temple entrance. “Get in there,” she smiled.

Silfy smiled back and ran inside. Mol turned to face you. 

“Thanks for that,” she said. 

“Happy to help,” you said, attempting to subtly peer into the temple and see what the others were up to.

“You came through for us. That’s a change from most adults I know.” 

You shifted a little to try and get a better angle. It was too dark.

“What are you guys doing way over here?” you asked absently.

“Watching a bunch of old folks get dumber by the dram-full. And when they run dry… I’ve got a few bottles tucked away to keep things flowing.” She grinned at her own ingenuity. “For a price, of course,” she added. 

“Smart,” you nodded and crossed your arms. An idea had struck you earlier in the evening when you saw the kids slink over here. You readjusted your feet, trying to look like an authority figure but knowing Mol was probably immune to the act. “How would you guys like to get a little practice in, this evening?”

Mol looked at you curiously. “Practice what?”

“Scamming. Scheming. Stealing.”

“I’m listening.”

“One of the men I travel with, the one with the hair-”

“-long or floofy?”

“Floofy, for sure,” you answered almost immediately.

“Right. I know him.”

“Well he considers himself to be an expert at sleight of hand.”

Mol scoffed.

“I know,” you agreed. “I think you should all prove you’re better than him.”

“Easy,” Mol crossed her arms. “How?”

“Here’s my proposal: You each try to take something from his tent or off his person without getting caught. If you get caught, you’re out.”

“And if we don’t get caught?” 

“Depending on what it is you took, I might let you keep it.”

Mol scoffed again. “What’s the point of stealing off him if there’s a chance we won’t be able to keep our spoils?”

You pursed your lips in agreement. “Honestly, I really want to prank him and I think it would be hilarious if you guys took his stuff. He loves his stuff.”

“I do love a good con…” Mol pondered for a moment. “Alright, counteroffer.”

“Lay it on me.”

“Since you happened to catch me in a good mood; we do this for you and we have your sworn loyalty once we establish ourselves as the best Guild in the Gate.” She thought for another moment. “Also two hundred gold.”

You sucked in a breath. “You drive a hard bargain, Mol.” You held out your hand for her to shake. “But you’ve got a deal.”

“Hang on, you’re not gonna try to talk us out of it? Not gonna haggle?”

“I already tried to talk you out of it back at the Grove,” you shrugged. “But you’re all way too clever for your own good and I know there’s no changing your minds. Besides, it’ll be nice to have some friends waiting for us in the city.” You smiled at her, your hand still outstretched. 

She returned your smile and took your hand, shaking it firmly. “Deal.”

“A pleasure doing business with you,” you bowed dramatically and Mol snickered.

Mol made her way to the open door of the temple. She looked back at you. “I expect to see that two hundred gold before the night is through.”

“I’ll go get it right now,” you said pointing back towards camp.

Mol nodded, satisfied, then entered the temple. You heard her shout as you were leaving: “Alright, listen up! We’ve got a job.”

You smiled to yourself. You didn’t know what had come over you, and you knew that it was dangerous to be negotiating deals with con artists in the making, but you couldn’t help yourself. Especially after Astarion had crowded you in the aftermath of the stink bomb he’d been hit with. You loved watching him squirm and this was a great opportunity to do so. Mol and her gang of tiefling troublemakers were harmless as they were right now. They’d managed to take odds and ends from around the Grove, minus Arabella’s attempt to take the idol from the druids’ ritual. There was nothing currently at camp that couldn’t be replaced on the road. After all, you’d all crashed onto the same beach with nothing but the clothes on your backs. Well, except maybe the artifact Shadowheart concealed on her person, but you had just sicced the kids in the opposite direction towards the vampire. 

You made your way back into camp, stopping to chat with Zevlor and Halsin. 

“Gentlemen,” you acknowledged, trying not to seem guilty after conspiring with the leader of the child criminals a few yards away. “A pleasure to see you both.” You noticed Zevlor was enjoying a goblet of wine, but Halsin was not. “Not partaking in the revelry, Halsin?” 

He chuckled. “I assume you mean my lack of a goblet of wine or a cask of ale?”

You nodded.

“In truth, I rarely imbibe. The stuff goes right to my head. Before you know it, I’d be breaking into song or declaring love to the first person I laid eyes on.”

“Oh, ho, ho.” You and Zevlor made amused eye contact. “You sure you’re not a bard, archdruid?” You elbowed Halsin playfully and he chuckled again. 

“You’ve never heard me singing. Which makes you very fortunate.”

Zevlor laughed. “Yes, the singing we could probably do without. It feels so good to see these people smiling, let’s not ruin it. ”

“Then I shall not keep your ear any longer,” Halsin said, holding up his hands in playful surrender. He nodded to you. “There are many grateful people here who want to spend time with you. Go enjoy yourself. Seek out some wine before it runs dry; there are a lot of thirsty people around here.”

Zevlor raised his goblet to you. “Here, here.” You mimed raising your own cup to clink with his. You exchanged goodbyes and the men resumed whatever conversation they’d been having before you walked by. 

Your tent wasn’t far off and you knew you had plenty of gold in your bag to spare for your hired thieves. You exchanged a few more hellos before making it over to your tent. You lit a single candle to help you search your bag in the dim light of your tent and tried to not draw attention to yourself. You started digging through your bag for your coin pouch. 

Just as you’d counted out the last of the gold, you heard Astarion behind you. 

“Here’s my little treat,” he purred.

You stood up quickly, miscalculating where you were located in space and hitting your head against the top of your tent.

“Agh!” you yelped, turning around to face Astarion and ducking to properly exit. You looked away from him, hoping he wouldn’t ask what you were up to.

He looked you up and down. “With their cheeks all flushed.” 

“Hi,” you said, not knowing how to respond. 

“Hello,” he smiled, drawing closer. “You’ll notice a distinct lack of blood stains and horrid stench to me.” He held out his arms and spun to show off his fresh, clean appearance. “It’s crazy what a little water and perfume can accomplish.”

“Well done,” you teased. “You’ve mastered basic hygiene.” 

He moved even closer. “Go on,” he said, leaning towards you, “give me a sniff.”

“And smell more rotten eggs? I’ll pass.”

“Come on,” he said, rolling his eyes.

You looked at him skeptically, then leaned in a little and inhaled. 

He smelled just as good as he had this morning, perhaps even better given that he’d just reapplied whatever it was he used to scent himself. You leaned in closer to his throat and inhaled again. It was a clean scent; one that was mature and distinctly male. It was delicious.

“What is that?” you asked, not pulling away.

Astarion chuckled lowly. “You like it?”

You finally pulled back and nodded. 

“Just a little scent profile I concocted to mask the unfortunate smell of death that comes from being, well, dead.”

“Do tell,” you probed, just as you noticed Mattis and Silfy sneaking around, a little ways off, clearly on their way to you and Astarion. You did your best to hide your stare, but Astarion noticed when your eyes shifted back a little too quickly and he looked behind himself. Mattis and Silfy quickly ducked behind a nearby tent. He turned back to face you.

“Thought I saw something. It was nothing.” It was a bad excuse, was what it was.

Astarion narrowed his eyes but continued, excited to talk about his scent mixture. “Mind you, my undead smell is very faint, but it’s nothing a little bergamot, rosemary, and a hit of aged brandy can’t hide. It’s the perfect olfactory disguise for a corpse.”

“Sounds like you missed your calling as a perfumer,” you said, genuinely interested in what he was saying but noticing Mattis and Silfy out of the corner of your eye. 

“I did, didn’t I?”

It was then that Mattis and Silfy approached you both.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Mattis said, the picture of innocence. “Silfy and I just wanted to thank you again for finding her earlier.”

Silfy nodded.

“Oh!” you said, doing your best to sound shocked. You bent to get on eye level with her again. “I’m glad you’re okay, Silfy.”

Silfy sniffled and threw her arms around your neck. “Oh, thank you, Miss Hero!”

“Aw, this is too much,” you said, rubbing her back and making eye contact with Mattis. “I’m always happy to help.”

Mattis came around behind you and hugged you as well. 

“Thank you for reuniting me with my baby sister.”

You felt his hand reach for your own and grab the pouch containing the two hundred gold for Mol. He concealed it expertly. 

Both he and Silfy pulled away from you at the same time. “Well, guess we better head back to the others. It was so nice meeting you.” Mattis turned to leave but Silfy lingered.

“Come find us in Baldur’s Gate!”

You smiled at her. “We definitely will,” you squeezed her hands before she shuffled off to join Mattis walking back towards the temple. 

You stood up, dusting off the front of your pants. 

Astarion looked at you with narrowed eyes and crossed arms.

You pointed with your thumb over your shoulder in the direction the kids were headed. “That was weird.”

“Why’d you give them a coin purse?”

You sputtered. “Why did I-? Whaaaaat? I didn’t-”

Astarion placed his hands on his hips. 

You sighed and looked at your feet. “Okay, I didn’t want to tell you this, but Silfy was upset because Mattis said she wasn’t good at pick-pocketing, so I went to the kids and said Silfy could practice on me.” You smiled lamely.

“So why did the brother pocket it?” He was onto you.

“I uh… think it was a round one type of thing. So next time it’ll just be Silfy.”

“Uh huh.” Astarion didn’t look convinced. “I’m going to assume you lost some sort of bet with Mol and her fleet of child criminals and that those two are the ones who came to collect.”

“Ah!” you exclaimed. “You caught me! I said I could beat Arabella in a staring contest and lost big time. Like, double or nothing lost.”

Astarion tsked and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You really must stop picking fights with children that you cannot win.”

“I can win,” you got defensive, even though you were lying through your teeth. 

Astarion tilted his head in disbelief. 

“I can!” You doubled down. 

“Mhm.” Astarion leaned forward and kissed you deeply, tilting you back a bit and bringing his hand to your cheek. 

He pulled away and you blinked back at him, dazed. 

“I missed you,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “You and your weird soft spot for those urchins.” He pretended to gag, as if admitting such things was making him sick.

“Aw, shucks.” 

He groaned. “I’m going to have to insist that you remove ‘aw shucks’ from your vocabulary immediately.” 

“Or what? You’ll kill me?” Your eyes went to his mouth.

He flashed his fangs. “Don’t tempt me, darling.” He bent forward to kiss your neck and you tilted your head to give him better access.

“Astarion,” you half protested, “people can see us.”

“Let them,” he hummed against your throat. He moved his mouth so it was beside your ear. “Come to my bed tonight.”

A pleasant chill ran through your body. “I’ve seen your bed,” you sighed, thinking of the wooden pallet in his tent that was often covered with jars of half-drunk animal blood. “Come to mine instead.” 

Astarion growled from the back of his throat and kissed your neck again. 

“Yo, Astarion!” Karlach’s voice called from the food table. 

He pulled back slowly and turned to her, his arms still resting around your waist. “I’m a smidge busy here, Karlach.”

Karlach held up her hands innocently. She made eye contact with you and winked. “I just wanted to know if you’d seen all the wine the tieflings brought.”

“Of course I’ve seen the wine, I procured half of- wait, the tieflings brought wine?” He immediately pulled away from you and marched over to the table, examining the copious bottles of liquor. “So I got a stink bomb thrown at me and it was for nothing?!”

Karlach sucked in a breath. “Seems like it. Sorry, mate.”

Astarion turned back to look at you, clearly distraught by this discovery. You withheld a laugh.

He turned back and picked up a bottle and goblet. “Well, we’ll see who’s the better sommelier: me or the half-fiends.”

Karlach turned quickly and whipped him with her tail.

“Hey!” He stumbled a little, but caught himself. 

“Whoops! Sorry, you can never trust us half-fiends.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Oh,” Astarion backtracked. “Apologies, Karlach. I didn’t mean that.”

“Mmm,” Karlach crossed her arms. Then she smiled. “Wanna get drunk?”

“Gods, yes,” he sighed and uncorked a bottle, grabbing two goblets. He turned back towards you, still standing at your tent. “Care to partake?”

You smiled and shook your head. “I’m going to continue with my rounds,” you said, pointing vaguely towards the party at large.

Astarion shrugged and turned back to Karlach.

“Your loss, Soldier!”

“Save me a glass of the best stuff,” you called before walking in the direction of Gale’s tent. 

“No promises,” Astarion sang as you rounded the corner and found Gale at his tent, a goblet of wine in his hand and a half eaten plate of food set off to the side. 

“And how’s my favorite wizard enjoying the evening’s festivities?” you asked upon arrival.

“Ah,” he smiled, “come to turn my robes yellow this time?”

You held up your hands. “No lute. Sorry about earlier.”

“All in good fun,” he reassured. “I did miss your tomfoolery.”

“I knew you did,” you elbowed him playfully and he laughed.

“A beautiful night, don’t you think?” He looked up at the stars. 

Your gaze followed his. “That it is.”

“Nothing like a brush with destruction to make one appreciate the majesty of the celestial canvas.”

“Yes, destruction by cleric would have been a tough way to go.”

“Indeed,” he chuckled and looked back up at the stars. “This is a view I once might have shared with my companion. Though definitely unaccompanied by such revelry.” He gestured over to Danis and Bex, drunkenly giggling with each other not far off. 

He turned back to you. “She preferred it when we were alone, curled up before a crackling hearth with some ancient, esoteric tome between us, ink glinting by the firelight…”

You smiled at the wistful look on his face. “I hope you’re referring to your cat and not Mystra.”

“By Ahghairon’s lost nose- no!” His voice cracked a little as he exclaimed. “Tara is not any cat. She’s a tressym. And given your confusion, I’m guessing you’ve never met one.”

“Guilty,” you said, smiling sheepishly.

“They’re brilliant creatures; fine company for any self-respecting wizard. She’d be most impressed by our efforts saving these tieflings. Proud, even. And I’ve given her little to be proud of recently.” 

“Not true! Gale, you have so much to be proud of.” 

“You’re very kind,” he sighed. “She’s the one who discovered that the orb’s fury could be quelled with magically-infused items, you know.”

“You’re kidding! How’d she figure that out?”

“A lot of trial and error,” Gale laughed, holding a hand to his chest where the orb laid quiet for now. “I can still feel the phantom torment of her claws prodding me. Regardless, after so long being cared for by someone else, it feels good to repay the favor. Not directly to Tara, but these poor tieflings. I’m sure she would approve.”

You placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I know she would.”

He smiled at you, then looked away. “So… you and Astarion.”

“Me and Astarion,” you bobbed back and forth on your feet.

“He has a certain charm about him, Astarion,” he nodded. “Then again, so does a tiger when it purrs.” He took a swig of his wine.

“Gale, if I did something that led you to think-”

“Nonsense,” he interrupted before you could finish the thought. “You did nothing of the sort. I think I’m just too deep in my cups.” He looked down into his goblet and sighed before looking back at you. “I’m glad you found each other. And better I have this revelation now than farther into our journey.”

“You’ll always be my favorite wizard,” you said, punching his bicep in playful camaraderie. “I hope this doesn’t change things between us. I value our friendship too much.”

He chuckled softly, his hand ghosting over where yours had just made contact. “This changes nothing.” A reassuring smile graced his features. 

Movement to your left on the beach caught your attention.

“Is that Wyll?” you asked.

Gale followed your eyes over to his right. “Ah, yes I believe he’s been pensively staring at the water for a majority of the evening.”

“And you didn’t check on him?”

“I did, but he insisted on being alone. Though I’m sure he would much rather welcome your company than that of a babbling wizard.” He nudged you with his elbow. “But after that, go indulge in the frivolities! They’re good for the heart. And mine will be lighter, to see you enjoying yourself.”

You surged forward and hugged him. He held you tightly while still clutching his goblet. When you pulled away you pointed at him. “You still need to teach me lanceboard.”

“And you need to stop enchanting the pieces to attack each other.”

“I will when it stops making you laugh.” You grinned at him, then waved and headed towards Wyll.

Just as Gale had said, Wyll was standing alone by the water’s edge, past the drying blankets that swayed subtly in the evening air. 

“Thought I smelled you over here,” you said, sliding down some rocks and making him noticeably flinch.

“Oh gods, do I still stink?” He raised his arm to his nose and inhaled deeply. “I fear I’ll never be fully rid of it.”

“I was teasing,” you came to stand beside him and looked at the lake. “Though, Astarion seems to have a promising career ahead of himself as a perfumer if you need his help.”

Wyll chuckled. “Good to know that your new beau smells as good as he looks.”

“Indeed he does,” you smiled at him and he smiled back. 

After a moment, Wyll sighed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice I was gone.”

“It’s no party without the Blade of Frontiers.”

“Really? I’m honored.” He turned back to face the water. “In truth, I don’t feel in a festive mood. And I didn’t want to cast a grey cloud over the night.”

“What? Why?” It concerned you deeply that one of your beloved companions was feeling down and you hadn’t even noticed. “What brought this on?”

“I’m a devil,” Wyll scowled. “I love the people from the Grove, but I unsettle them deep down. As I seem to unsettle everyone nowadays. You don’t want a devil at your party.”

You were surprised he felt that way. Mizora had so kindly gifted him his devilish features not long after Karlach officially joined your team well over a tenday ago, and the people of the Grove had long since come to terms with the Blade’s new horns. He was still Wyll; kind, fiercely protective, and above all, a good man. Those who couldn’t see that were fools.

“Claws will pop the balloons, you see,” Wyll teased, trying to lift the mood. “And the sweetcakes don’t taste half as good as raw eggs with this blasted forked tongue.” 

You smiled sadly. “You don’t unsettle me. Or any of us. You know that.”

Wyll laughed humorlessly. “If only half the world had half the heart you do.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “But off with you. This is your day! Have a dance. Enjoy the music.”

“I suspect you’re the best dancer among us, Mr. Upper City. I’d love to dance with you sometime.”

Wyll laughed. “In truth, I always enjoyed a bit of pomp.”

“You seem like the type,” you laughed.

“I once beat the Baldurian record for the most sarabandes dances in a single evening. Much to the exhaustion of the good ladies and gentlemen of the Gate.” 

“I can see it now,” you said wistfully.

“I had years of lessons, but honestly, it’s all about your partner.” 

You took a step back and bowed dramatically. “Well I hope one of these evenings I might be a proper partner to stumble along with.”

Wyll smirked and bowed back to you. “One of these evenings,” he agreed. He inhaled deeply and turned back to the lake. “I just need some time alone beneath the stars, and I’ll be back to my old self. Promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you said, walking forward and hugging him. He returned it and you squeezed him tightly. 

“Okay,” he jokingly wheezed, “you have my word.”

“Good,” you pulled away. “You know where to find me,” you said, nodding your head in the direction of the party. 

“I do,” Wyll nodded, looking at you fondly. 

You turned and called down the beach, “Keep an eye on him, Withers!”

Withers simply stared at you from his spot by the boats. 

You placed your hands on your hips. “One of these days I will crack him.”

Wyll laughed and waved you off. “Good luck with that.”

As you reemerged into the party, you saw Zaki run past you holding a tin of one of Astarion’s hair products. You snorted and looked around to make sure Astarion hadn’t seen. 

No, he and Karlach were still busy downing goblets of wine and comparing them to each other. 

“Bitter!” Astarion exclaimed, sticking out his tongue and pulling the goblet away from his mouth as if it had bitten him.

“Ah, you’ve got no taste, Astarion!” Karlach clapped him on the back. “This one’s better than the crap you served three cups ago.”

Astarion scoffed. “That was a classic vintage! Gods, it’s like you know nothing of fine wines.”

Karlach rolled her eyes. “Um, hello? Ten years in Avernus, mate. Didn’t get much drinking in while enslaved. Anything’s better than fire wine.”

“Tragic,” was all he said in response.

Suddenly Alfira was running over to you. “There you are!” The sweet scent of alcohol wafted off of her and she held a goblet in one hand and her teacher’s lute in the other. “Now, this might be the wine talking, but I’m feeling inspired. Thinking of writing my next song… about you.” 

“Me?” you asked, placing your hands on your chest and batting your eyes. “I’m flattered.”

Alfira nodded. “But I need an angle. Any ideas?”

You thought for a moment, then made your voice pompous. “Let it be only as truthful as true poetry would permit.”

Alfira grinned and matched your tone, “But of course.” Then she became serious, “You achieved something beyond mere fact by helping all of us. That deserves to be remembered.” She shut her eyes for a moment, regaining her thoughts. “Buuuut, like I said, I need more wine before I truly start waxing poetic. Shall we play a song together now?”

“Great idea,” you grinned and started making your way to your tent to retrieve her lute. 

As you passed by Astarion and Karlach, you watched Arabella reach into Astarion’s back pocket and come away with what looked like a few coins. She made eye contact with you and smirked before running off.

Karlach clearly saw this occur and held in a laugh. She looked past Astarion at you and you held a finger up to your mouth, signaling for her not to say anything. She snorted.

“What’s so funny?” Astarion asked.

“Nothing, you just look so stupid when you sniff wine like that.”

“I do not!” he protested. A beat. “Do I?”

You shook your head to yourself as you made it to your tent and grabbed the lute, walking with Alfira to the center of camp by the fire. 

“What shall we play?” she asked. 

“How about a classic?” you suggested, strumming the opening chords to “Bard Dance.”

Alfira grinned and nodded, immediately picking up the harmonies to the song while you took the melody. A sudden whistling caught your ear and you turned to see Volo performing the song with just as much gusto as the two of you. Had he been here the whole time?

Around you, the tieflings and your companions gathered around to hear you both play. They were stiff at first, merely listening and swaying to the familiar tune they’d no doubt heard many times. It wasn’t long before Danis bowed to Bex, who curtsied back, and the two began dancing merrily around the clearing. 

With the ice broken, others coupled off to dance together, and others formed groups of three or four. 

Shadowheart clapped along to the beat as Gale approached her and twirled her around happily. Karlach joined the fray, swinging her hips and waving her arms, but was careful not to hit anyone by mistake. Even Halsin joined in on the fun, awkwardly marching back and forth to the beat and encouraging shy tieflings to join him. Lae’zel and Astarion remained on the edge of the crowd, but you could see Lae’zel tapping her foot to the beat despite her best efforts to remain unaffected by the merriment. 

As your fingers danced over the strings, you sent off a few minor illusions of fireworks to add some dazzle to the performance. Alfira added her own dancing lights to swirl around the audience.

You made eye contact with Astarion who was smirking at you. He made to raise his goblet to you in a toast, but his hand was empty. He looked around himself to see if he’d misplaced it, but movement farther back in camp let you know that it was Meli who had absconded with the cup. You smiled widely at Astarion and shrugged. He shrugged back, smiling and reaching for a new cup. 

As the jovial song came to an end, the audience clapped and a few members approached you and Alfira, thanking you for the music and placing a few coins in your palms. 

“Marvelous!”

“Such fun!”

“Alfira, you simply must play for us on our journey to the Gate!”

“No praise for the wizard, Volo?” Volo complained to an unhearing crowd. He humphed and returned to scribbling in a notebook closeby.

You and Alfira thanked everyone before you handed Alfira her lute back.

“Thank you for this,” you said. “I’d love to play again with you some time.”

Alfira took the instrument from you and nodded. “Oh, yes please!” She looked at her lute for a moment, then held it back out to you. “You should keep this one.” 

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” you shook your head. “You’ve clearly had it for a long time. It must hold sentimental value to you. I don’t want you to part with it, I’ll have a new lute in no time.”

“Please,” Alfira insisted, still holding it out. “You play so beautifully.”

“Don’t go inflating her ego now,” Astarion said as he approached carrying two goblets of wine. “She’s annoying enough as it is.” 

Behind him you saw Mirkon run by with a set of thieves' tools.

Astarion handed you one of the goblets of wine and smiled at you. “Hello, my sweet.”

“Hi,” you said shyly, still not used to his full attention but enjoying it nonetheless.

“Oh, stop teasing her,” Alfira said, rolling her eyes. “Tell her how well she did and make her take my lute.” She held it out again.

“While yes, she did play wonderfully-”

You looked at Astarion, a little shocked. You weren’t sure he’d ever complimented your music before.

“-she won’t be needing the lute.”

“See,” you said to Alfira before pausing for a moment and turning back to Astarion. “I won’t?”

He shook his head at you. “It’s taken care of already,” he said to Alfira. 

She understood what he was saying and nodded. “How very kind of you,” she said, smiling. She reached forward and squeezed your hand. “I’ll make sure to see you again before we leave.” 

You nodded and smiled as she left to rejoin Lakrissa at the wine table.

You turned to Astarion who looked smug. He turned to face you and grinned.

“What was that?” you asked.

“What was what, darling?”

“With Alfira. ‘It’s taken care of already.’ Did you steal me a lute or something?”

Astarion brought his goblet to his lips, ignoring you.

You gasped, your mouth open in faux horror. “You did not.”

“And if I did?”

“Where?”

He groaned. “Enough questions. Come enjoy a drink with me.”

He took your hand and led you over to his tent. When you arrived, he dropped your hand and held up his cup for you to clink with his. He took a sip. 

“You know, I never pictured myself as a hero.”

You snorted. “Bold of you to assume that’s what you are.”

He rolled his eyes and continued. “Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…”

He held you in suspense as he took another drink of his wine. 

When he pulled the cup away, he scowled. “I hate it. This is awful.” 

“Aw,” you said, walking forward and wrapping your arms around his neck before pulling back a little. “Is this okay?” you asked softly.

He nodded.

You continued. “It’s not that bad. Think of all the goblins you killed.”

“True,” he agreed. “That was fun. Still, I would have liked more than a pat on the head and vinegar for wine.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “I’m sorry, weren’t you the one who curated the wine?”

“Yes, but it’s not like I had much variety to choose from. Plus the tieflings didn’t bring anything to write home about.” He cocked his hip to the side, then nodded to you. “Go ahead, give it a taste.”

You stepped back and swirled the wine in the goblet that Astarion had provided for you. You took a tentative sip of the heavy, rich red. It was dry and sharp. To be honest, it tasted like most other reds you’d had before.

Astarion leaned forward a bit to gauge your reaction. “See what I mean? Awful.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Why didn’t you pick a better one, then?”

“Darling, this is the best they had.” 

“How sad,” you sighed, clearly not as upset as he hoped you’d be.

He held up a hand and turned away from you. “None of you have any taste.” 

“I’m sorry, my love,” you brushed some hair out of his face. “You’ll have to share once you find something you actually like. That way I’ll know what to look for.”

He sighed heavily. “What would be the point? You probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

“Rude,” you scoffed, “but fair.” You looked at him thoughtfully. “Hang on, weren’t you and Karlach trying to get drunk?”

Astarion giggled stupidly. “Yes.”

You snorted. “How’d that go?”

“Fine,” he sighed. “Takes me a lot longer to get drunk. What with the dead liver and all.”

You furrowed your brow. “Wouldn’t lacking a working liver make you drunk immediately?”

Astarion whined, “I don’t know, but Karlach is completely inebriated and I only have a buzz I can already feel fading.”

You looked over to Karlach who was still dancing despite the fact that you and Alfira had finished your performance several minutes ago. She was trying to get Dammon and Zevlor to join her but both looked like they were searching for escape routes. 

You laughed. “Shame there’s no music to accompany her,” you said, half joking.

“An excellent point, my dear.” He turned to bend down, wobbling, but catching himself. He started rifling through his possessions. “Odd,” he mumbled, “I swore it was here.”

“What are you looking for?” you asked.

“Hmm?” He was clearly lost in thought. “Oh nothing, darling. But, um, do me a favor and go somewhere else for a minute.” He waved you away without looking at you.

You smirked. “Okay,” you said, pretty sure he was looking for the lute he’d snatched for you. As you were about to step away, you paused, remembering the gang of young thieves actively stealing from Astarion. “I-” you shook your head. “Nevermind, keep looking.”

“I will, now go away.” He got up to look behind his tent. 

You held in a laugh and made your way over to Shadowheart, who you just witnessed pour herself a fresh glass of wine. 

“Hello,” you said, joining her at the refreshments table and popping a grape into your mouth. The crisp snap of the grape reminded you how hungry you were and you began to fill a plate with food. 

“Hungry?” Shadowheart laughed.

“I haven’t eaten all day,” you said through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “I missed bread and cheese this afternoon.”

“Uh huh,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes. “And whose fault was that?”

You slowed your chewing and slouched. “Mine.”

“Uh huh,” she took a swig of wine and smiled at you. “I think it’s safe to say you learned your lesson.”

You nodded as you took a large bite off a bread roll. 

Shadowheart took a step back to rest against the table. She surveyed the party at large. 

“Everyone seems to be in high spirits.”

You swallowed heavily and willed yourself not to choke, clearing your throat instead. “You put together a great party, Shadowheart.”

“I know,” she smiled. She shimmied closer to you and nodded over to Astarion’s tent where the man was still searching around, looking deeply confused. “I saw you and Astarion have been reunited.”

You lifted your gaze to Astarion’s tent, your expression melting into one of pure adoration. He was such an idiot. Even though you knew you were the cause of his ignorance. You shook your head, snapping out of it.

“Sorry again.”

Shadowheart blew out a puff of air. “Far be it from me to keep you two apart any longer. Besides,” she nudged you playfully, “blood must still be running hot. After everything.”

This time you did choke. Shadowheart’s eyes widened and she smacked you on the back.

“I’m fine!” you insisted. You cleared your throat and took a sip of wine. 

Shadowheart laughed. “It’s fun getting you flustered.”

“I’m sure Astarion would say the same,” you agreed.

She sighed happily next to you and returned to looking into the party.

“You know who I never thought I’d find myself caring for?”

You stuffed your mouth with a hunk of cheese on a cracker to the point where you could barely get out the word, “Me?”

Shadowheart looked at you and laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I mean, desperate people… like these refugees. Never gave them much of a thought. Certainly not this bunch from the Grove. Yet we came through for them. We saved their lives. Odd.”

You nudged her with your shoulder. “I hate to say it Shadowheart, but you’re a good person. Though given your sentimentality, it sounds like the wine is talking,” you teased.

“It’s not talking enough for my liking.” She turned and grabbed the bottle you’d seen her pouring from moments ago. “Share a bottle with me?” 

You looked at her skeptically. “Just a bottle? You’re not trying to poison me for disobeying you earlier, are you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Just a bottle of poison free wine. You’ve suffered enough. Besides, I think you have other plans afterwards. Wouldn’t want to keep you.” She kicked her foot out towards Astarion’s tent which was now vacant, minus Doni slinking away with a hairbrush.

Before you could give her an answer, she was filling your goblet to the brim, despite the fact that you hadn’t finished the wine that was already there. She poured the rest into her own goblet, shaking the bottle to get out the last few drops.

“There,” she said. “Liquid courage.”

She tapped the brim of her goblet against yours and took a long sip. You joined her. Mixing the two wines hadn’t been a bad idea after all. There was a pleasant fruity aftertaste that you enjoyed. You went back in for another sip. 

She watched you as you drank. “Do try to get some rest tonight if you can. Tomorrow’s another day.”

“Yes, mom.”

She smacked your arm. “How dare you! I’m nobody’s mother.” She took another swig of her wine just as Lae’zel approached with her greatsword. 

“Are you aware that the child thieves are taking our belongings from camp?”

Shadowheart choked a little. “Excuse me?” She patted herself down and was relieved when her hand made contact with the artifact still on her person. She didn’t dare pull it out in front of everyone and instead looked at you.

“Oh, that,” you said smiling. “I told them they could.”

“And why would you tell them that?” Lae’zel narrowed her eyes. 

“Don’t worry,” you sat up straighter. “I told them they could only take from Astarion.”

Shadowheart snorted. “What?”

“Yeah, I thought it would be funny if the rogue got robbed by a bunch of kids.”

“Chk,” Lae’zel scoffed. “He is failing miserably at what he claims to be very good at.” She eased her stance and loosened her grip on her greatsword.

You laughed. “I think it’s partially Karlach’s fault. She suggested they both get drunk.”

“That’ll do it,” Shadowheart nodded, taking another sip of wine. 

“Hang on, Lae’zel, were you planning on attacking the kids?” You pointed at her sword.

Lae’zel eyed the weapon, then looked at you. “All children should know how to defend themselves from enemy attacks. I had already killed two of my cousins by the time I was their age.”

You nodded slowly. “Killing isn’t as much of a priority when you’re a kid here.”

“You make that blatantly obvious everyday with your oafish battle stance and shoddy swordsmanship.”

You scoffed and Shadowheart laughed. “I’m a lot better at fighting now, thanks,” you smiled at her, not actually offended. You knew she’d been raised on an entirely different plane, and who were you to judge their customs? At this point in your adventure, you knew not to take her harsh words personally. Even though she was usually right.

Lae’zel looked you up and down. “Perhaps so. I have seen the kith’raki tear a screaming neogi’s legs from its belly to fashion into blades.”

“Ew,” Shadowheart scowled. 

Lae’zel kept her eyes trained on you. “Yet, they could not match your nerve at the goblin camp. It was enough to drive me to madness.”

“Oh,” you said, a bit taken aback. “Thanks?”

“I smell their blood on you still. I smell your sweat.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh gods, I thought I washed that all off-”

Shadowheart set a hand on your shoulder and shook her head. You turned your focus back on Lae’zel. 

“I meant to taste that sweat. Pity for us you’ve already promised your body to Astarion.” She crossed her arms, annoyed.

“Ah,” you nodded, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Lae’zel, I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” 

“Chk,” Laezel rolled her eyes. “It is your loss. Come morning you will wonder. You will wonder how my lips might have tasted. How my fingers on your skin might have felt.”

You looked down at the ground, feeling guilty for not picking up on her intentions sooner. Shadowheart laid a comforting hand on your back.

“Enough, Lae’zel,” she said. “She was bound to make a choice sooner or later. Let’s respect her decision.”

“And what a foolish decision it was. Astarion can’t even handle a few children. I would skewer them the moment they touched one of my belongings.” She thrusted her greatsword forward as if to demonstrate. 

You swallowed. “Then let’s be glad they aren’t after your belongings.” 

Lae’zel looked down her nose at you. “Let us hope that continues.” 

“Hope what continues?” Astarion approached the three of you and grabbed another bottle of wine, not bothering to pour it into his goblet and instead opting to drink directly from the source.

You shook your head, feigning annoyance. “Are you following me?”

“Darling,” he purred, sidling up next to you, “didn’t I tell you last night that I wasn’t going to leave you alone anymore, especially after we-”

Lae’zel groaned loudly. “I’m going to keep a vigilant watch for any of those whelps stepping out of line.” She turned on her heel and headed back to her tent, but not before intimidating a few unfortunate tieflings milling about nearby. 

Astarion took another swig from his bottle and winced, not enjoying the taste. “What’s with her? Apart from her usual Lae’zel…ness?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, sipping your own wine and feeling warmth spread through your chest.

Shadowheart leaned over to look at the vampire. “Enjoying yourself, Astarion?”

Astarion did a double take, apparently having not noticed her when he first walked up. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around you protectively.

“Ooohh no,” he said, “you’re not sending me out on another long errand to keep me away from her.” He sounded whiney, likely from the buzz he was still nursing with the wine.

You and Shadowheart laughed.

“It’s okay, dearest,” you teased, poking his nose. “We’ve made peace with Shadowheart.”

Astarion looked from you to Shadowheart skeptically. “No more errands?”

Shadowheart smirked. “Don’t dally again and we won’t have to find out, will we?”

That answer seemed to satisfy Astarion, who pulled away from you and continued to drink from his bottle. “I suppose that’s fair. But to answer your question, yes, surprisingly I’m having a delightful time.”

You scrunched your nose. “What happened to hating all the attention and the bad wine?”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Must you always question the details, darling?”

You laughed. “Yes, evidently I must.”

Astarion waved his hand in the air, ignoring your answer and continuing to address Shadowheart. “It’s been centuries since I’ve been able to really let loose at a soiree such as this without being told what to do or hunting for something.” He wrapped you in his arms again. “Not when I already have my prey for the evening right here.”

Your eyes widened at Shadowheart and you avoided eye contact with her, flustered.

“Astarion,” you muttered as he kissed your shoulder from behind.

Surprisingly, when you looked back at her, Shadowheart had a small smile on her face.  

She addressed you when she spoke. “Seems like you’ve really captured this one under your spell.” She nodded her head towards Astarion who had his nose pressed against your neck. 

He pulled back and looked shocked. “Is that what this is? Have you cursed me? Vile witch!” He smiled at you like a dope. He snapped his fingers at Shadowheart. “Remove this curse, cleric!”

Shadowheart grabbed his hand and set it back at his side. “What you’re not going to do is snap at me as if I were a dog.” She looked at you. “Who knew liquor would make him even more insufferable?”

“We should have accounted for this,” you agreed. 

“I am right here,” Astarion pouted.

You reached for one of his hands wrapped around you and squeezed it. “We know, dummy.”

His slightly unfocused eyes went gooey. He looked at Shadowheart. “You know, Shadowheart, we were each others’ firsts.”

You went rigid under his touch and Shadowheart inhaled her wine by accident, coughing briefly.

“That can’t be true,” she said looking between the two of you.

“Astarion,” you elbowed him.

Astarion scowled. “Oh, perish the thought, she was the first thinking creature I ever drank from.”

Shadowheart nodded slowly. “Congratulations?” She looked at you. “You didn’t drink… his blood too, did you?”

You shook your head and Astarion laughed. 

“No dear, I took her virginity.”

You elbowed Astarion with a good amount of force. 

“I will kill you,” you muttered exasperatedly.

“You will not,” he wheezed.

“I will not,” you sighed, looking up at Shadowheart, whose eyes had gone wide. 

Her expression morphed from one of shock to one of anger. She stood and walked over to Astarion. Her hand glowed with the makings of a guiding bolt. You stood quickly and stepped in front of Astarion, shielding him.

“Shadowheart!” you exclaimed. “It’s alright!”

“He’s a vampiric freak,” she said loudly, drawing the attention of a few party goers. “He’s using you for your blood and your innocence!”

Astarion scoffed and stood, stepping to the side, rendering your body shield useless. 

“How dare you,” he said, stomping his foot. “While, yes, that does sound like me, and was my intention originally,” Shadowheart raised her glowing hand and you held up your arms to stop her, “I did not make passionate love to her for no reason!”

You brought your hands to your face and ran them down your features slowly. This was mortifying.

“Can we keep it down?” you asked quietly.

Shadowheart rolled her eyes and dropped the prepped guiding bolt. She crossed her arms and looked at Astarion expectantly. “And what was the reason?”

He groaned dramatically. “Gods, I only brought it up as a joke for a laugh, do we have to keep it up?”

“Astarion,” both you and Shadowheart warned.

“Fine,” he avoided looking at you. “I like her, alright? More than like her, she’s- well, I don’t know what she is.” He took your hand in both of his own. “But isn’t it nice not to know?”

You looked at each other for a moment, his face soft, but a little concerned. You smiled and brought the back of his hand to your mouth for a kiss.

“So you didn’t bed her for the sake of gaining power from her virginity or something?”

That snapped Astarion out of his focus on you. “What? No, of course not! I’m a spawn anyway, so even if I wanted to I couldn’t.” He smiled at you. “But I didn’t want to!” He added quickly. 

“Nice save,” you teased, ruffling his hair, then thinking better of it and moving it back into place. “Let’s keep our sex lives to ourselves from now on, okay?”

“Gods below, if I’d known she’d react like that-” Astarion looked up at Shadowheart who was crossing her arms and looking at him as if daring him to finish the sentence. He cleared his throat. “Noted.”

Shadowheart shook her head and rolled her eyes before perching on the refreshments table once again.

“If he hurts you, I’m going to kill him and not revive him. And I’ll pay Withers for him to stay dead.”

You patted her shoulder. “I know. Thank you.”

Astarion leaned over to look at her. “To be clear, I don’t plan on hurting her.”

Shadowheart changed the subject. “What were you looking for over there?” She nodded her head towards Astarion’s tent. 

“Hmm?” he looked confused as to what she was referring to, then caught on and perched on the refreshment table again beside you. “Oh, just a little something for our beautiful bard here.” He started playing with the ends of your hair.

Shadowheart returned to her wine. “Couldn’t find it?”

“You know, it’s the strangest thing, I’ve been misplacing things all evening. Must be because of this delicious buzz I’ve got.” Astarion remembered the bottle he’d set down mere moments ago and returned to it.

Shadowheart lifted her eyebrows at you over her goblet. “Strange,” she said with an air of “We know exactly what’s happening and Astarion doesn't.”

You sighed, thinking he’d suffered enough at the hands of the kids. You took his free hand and hauled him up from the table. 

He eyed you curiously but made sure to take the wine bottle up with him. “What is it, darling?”

“Come on,” you started leading him towards the temple. 

“Oh ho,” he chuckled, stumbling a bit behind you, “wanted to get me alone, did you?” He sped up a little and gently bit the tip of your ear. 

You gasped at the sensation and he pulled back to smirk at you. You blinked and shook your head. “Trust me, you’re not going to want to ravish me in there,” you nodded ahead to the temple. 

Astarion caught you by the waist and lifted you a little, forcing you to stop moving. You yelped and he pulled you back so that he could whisper in your ear. “I can take you wherever I damn well please,” he growled. 

You shivered as he set you back down. “As sexy as you are, my love, you’ll see what I mean momentarily.”

You grabbed his hand again and led him across the log bridge and into the temple.

Only to find it empty.

Your stomach dropped. Uh oh.

Astarion sighed. “I don’t see what the problem is, dear.”

He took advantage of his grip on your hand and pulled you back to him, then spun you around so that your back was against the damp stone wall of the now truly abandoned temple. 

His knee came between your legs and he pinned your hands above your head. 

You were too shocked to say anything.

He grinned, and leaned into your ear again. “I could take you right here and right now,” he bent to kiss your throat and moved his thigh to rub deliciously against you. When you let out a small noise of satisfaction, he pulled back to look at you, his voice low, “If that’s what you want.” 

“Astarion,” you whined, closing your eyes and rolling your hips. 

“Yes, sweet girl?” he smirked at the pathetic look on your face.

“Kids, Astarion,” you exhaled shakily as he adjusted his thigh to give you a better angle. 

He paused. “Kids?” Then he chuckled. “I don’t think you need to worry about that, darling.”

You opened your eyes and gave him a confused look. 

He gave you an equally confused look. “I’m dead,” he said slowly, “I don’t think it’s possible?” He raked his eyes over your body and rested on your stomach. “Is it?”

You gently whacked the side of his head. “No, idiot, I’m talking about the tiefling kids.”

“Oh!” Astarion let out a relieved laugh. “What about them? You didn’t lose our entire camp over a game of hopscotch, did you?”

You rolled your eyes and pushed off the wall, looking around for any sign of the kids. It was dark and you couldn’t make out a thing. You groaned loudly up at the ceiling and ran your hands down your face. 

“I shouldn’t have trusted them…” you muttered.

“What did you do?” Astarion asked, sounding prematurely annoyed. 

You ignored him and opted to march out of the temple and up the log back into camp. 

A small laugh rang out from behind Gale’s vacant tent a ways off.

It sounded distinctly childish. 

You huffed some hair out of your face and marched up to Volo who was near Wyll’s tent, still writing in his journal. 

He lit up as you approached. “Aha! There you are! Come now, settle in. I do hope you have partaken in something bracing? This may well take up all night.”

You grabbed him by the arm. “No time.”

He protested as you dragged him towards the edge of camp. “I say! Unhand me! I’d hate to see your name slandered in an upcoming tale of your heroic escapades!” 

You ignored him and spun him to face you. “How loud can you whistle?”

Volo puffed his chest proudly. “I’m surprised you have to ask, given my accompaniment to your performance earlier this evening.” He cleared his throat and stood up straighter. “As loud and as lively as necessary.”

“Great. I’m going to need one sharp, loud whistle on my say so.”

He leaned in conspiratorially. “Ah, drawing attention, are we? Giving a rousing speech? Toasting to your fine accomplishments?”

“Neither.” You cupped your hands up to your mouth. “MOL AND COMPANY.”

The party grew silent.

Volo tilted his head. “Oh. Interesting choice of audience. But, children are the future-”

You elbowed him. “Do it now.”

“Right.” As instructed, Volo lifted his fingers to his mouth and blew harshly, emitting a loud, high pitched whistle.

You saw heads turn to you, as well as the figures of the kids clamoring to look at you from behind Gale’s tent.

“TO ME,” you called firmly, making eye contact with Mol and motioning for her and the others to come to you. 

As the children filed towards you, Volo shrunk back. “Do you need-”

“You can go.” 

“Thank heavens. Good evening.” He tipped his hat to you, then scurried off back to his post by Wyll’s tent. 

Mol came to a stop in front of you, crossing her arms and scowling at you. “What do you want now?”

You looked down at all eight of the hired thieves. Most avoided eye contact but Mol and Arabella, who smiled at you. You crossed your arms.

“It’s time to go over your spoils.”

“What, in front of him?” Meli asked, pointing behind you at Astarion, who lingered behind you looking rather in awe of what was occuring. 

“It’s been long enough,” you confirmed. “You all did very well and I’m very pleased with your efforts.”

You watched as the kids grew smug and shared excited looks with each other. 

Mattis spoke up. “What do we get in return for doing so good?”

“So well,” Astarion corrected.

“Didn’t ask you, did I mate?” Mattis snarled. 

Astarion flashed his fangs in retaliation and Mattis shut his mouth.

You placed your hands on your hips. “Well let’s see what you gathered, huh? Then we can determine.”

Mol clicked her tongue. “I already told ya’s, we have her support when we get to the Gate.”

“Lame!” Zaki exclaimed. “We should get some kind of physical prize or something.”

Doni made a noise of agreement. 

Mirkon shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s nice that we have the support of the hero of the Grove to help us.”

Arabella smirked. “I kind of want to see what else she has to offer.”

You did your best to stay stoic in front of them all, but you were too endeared by their curiosity and felt a smile tugging at your lips.

“Alright cretins,” you teased loudly, “show me where you buried the loot.”

Silfy giggled. “We didn’t bury it, silly!”

“Silfy,” Mattis hissed.

She grew quiet. “Sorry.”

“Be nice,” you warned, resting your hands on your hips. You took a deep breath, thinking about how to proceed. “Alright, first one to show me where you hid the loot gets their prize first.”

“Prize?!” Zaki gasped and Meli was already running across camp.

The other seven raced off after him.

You sighed fondly, choosing to walk after them at a leisurely pace.

Astarion caught up and strolled beside you. “Am I to understand that you had the urchins steal my belongings this evening?”

You clasped your hands behind your back and looked straight ahead. “Perhaps.”

Astarion chuckled. “I’d kill you if I didn’t desperately want to kiss you right now. Seeing your command over those children was really something.”

You cleared your throat. “Later. We need to get your stuff back first.”

He nodded, his brows furrowing. “You seem to like kids. Not just those brats.”

“I do,” you smiled. “They can be the best audience. Plus they’re hilarious in their own ways without even trying most of the time.”

Astarion nodded. “A collective of child criminals is rather funny from an objective point of view.”

“They’re pretty good, too,” you bumped his hip. “Got past our master rogue all evening.”

Astarion tsked. “I blame the wine, darling.”

“I think you’re getting sloppy.”

“Would you STOP FLIRTING and GET OVER HERE?” Mattis yelled from the boats near Withers.

Arabella leaned against the boat closest to the living corpse. “Bone Man here said we could hide our stuff in the boats.”

“Withers!” you exclaimed with no actual anger in the cry. 

“I did no such thing,” he denied, as stoic as ever. 

“Uh huh,” you said, then leaned in conspiratorially to the kids. “He hides our stuff all the time.”

The kids snickered, looking from you to Withers.

“I do not,” he said, his tone holding the same inflection as always. “I hast no need of thine earthly possessions.”

You clicked your tongue. “And yet you require compensation from us whenever we need something from you. Where’s the money going, Withers?”

Silfy giggled.

Withers didn’t budge.

You turned back to the kids. “He absolutely hides our stuff.” 

They snickered again. 

You moved closer to the boat to peer inside. Doni stepped in front of you, blocking your view.

“Alright, alright,” you laughed, taking a step back, “who wants to show me what they took first.”

“So you really are going to reward them for this behavior?” Astarion crossed his arms and you ignored him. 

“I got here first,” Meli said, stepping forward with his hands behind his back, “just so we’re clear.”

“You did not,” Zaki protested, “Doni got here before any of us.”

“Doni doesn’t count! He’s the best sneak of all of us!”

“He does count and that’s why he won!”

“Quiet, you two,” Mol said with a bit of an edge to her tone. “Doni did win fair and square.”

“Told you!” Zaki stuck out his tongue.

Meli rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He stepped forward and addressed you. “May I present…” he pulled his hands out from behind his back, revealing Astarion’s wine goblet from earlier.

“You little whelp,” Astarion hissed but you held up a hand to silence him.

Meli smirked at the vampire. “You’ll notice,” he tipped the goblet forward so you could look inside, “not a drop wasted.”

Sure enough, the goblet still contained a hefty portion of deep red liquid. 

You applauded his effort and a few of the other kids joined in. “Well done, Meli. But, uh, you didn’t drink any, did you?”

Meli scowled. “Yuck, no thanks. I don’t know why adults like this stuff.”

Astarion bent forward. “I’ll be taking that,” he swiped the goblet back, “thank you.” He took a long, deep sip, then wiped a drop that rolled down the side of his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Who’s next?” you asked.

Silfy reached into the boat and pulled out a small brooch, covered in rubies and emeralds. “I got this from his tent.”

You got down on your knees in front of her again. “Oh Silfy!” you said, in awe of the craftsmanship. “This is lovely! Good job.” You turned to show Astarion.

He looked uninterested. “That was my mother’s.”

You stiffened briefly, then relaxed. “No, it wasn’t.”

He snorted. “Of course it wasn’t. I swiped it off some dead-” You made a face at him and nodded towards the kids, reminding him that young ears were listening, “-teddy… bear?”

“People die,” Mattis said flatly. “We’re not idiots.”

“I’m missing a gods damn eye,” Mol pointed to the bandage around her head.

You sighed. “I don’t know why I’m even trying, you guys are way too smart.” You turned and handed the brooch back to Astarion who pocketed it without question. 

“The smartest,” Mol grinned, looking around at the other seven.

Mirkon stepped forward. “Me next!” he reached into the boat and pulled something out, concealing it behind his back. He looked very pleased with himself when he revealed a set of thieves' tools. 

Astarion laughed once, humorlessly. “I have a million of those.”

Mirkon smirked. “Yes, but only one on your person.”

Astarion’s face fell and he patted himself down. His mouth raised into the smallest smile. “Not bad.” 

Mirkon tried to look cool, but he burst into a grin and stepped back to rejoin the others. You handed the tools to Astarion who hid them on his person once again and took another sip of his wine.

Zaki reached into the boat. “Here’s what I got.” He held out an unmarked tin but one that you recognized as one of Astarion’s beloved hair products.

Astarion spat a bit of his wine. “Give that here,” he held out his hand and Zaki clutched the tin closer to his chest. 

“Why should I?”

“Um, Zaki?” You made eye contact with him and shook your head. 

Zaki sighed and handed it over to Astarion reluctantly. “Tasted terrible anyway.”

You laughed and Astarion sputtered. “This is NOT to be ingested, you twerp.”

“Weirdo man!” Zaki exclaimed in response.

“Oof,” you turned to Astarion, “that’s gotta hurt.”

The kids laughed. Astarion narrowed his eyes. 

He examined the contents of the tin to see how much was left. When he saw that not much had been sacrificed, he sighed in relief. “This is a fine hair product from a particular salon in the Upper City that I was able to snatch while on the road. I only have the one container, if you must know.”

You turned back to Zaki. “Well done,” you clapped for him. “It’s like you stole his baby.”

Zaki blushed and smiled before Doni stepped forward.

He made a small noise and held out a hairbrush. 

Astarion gasped and snatched it from Doni quickly. “This was actually on my person during the Nautiloid crash.” He held it close to his chest. “I had it hidden away, how’d you find it?”

Doni responded with another unintelligible noise.

Astarion looked at the other kids.

Arabella shrugged. “We try not to question his methods.”

You patted Doni’s arm. “Great job, Doni.”

He smiled and Arabella took his place. 

She held out a small coin purse. “Tah dah!”

Astarion bent forward to examine it closer. “Sorry darling, that’s not mine.”

Arabella smiled. “I know.” She loosened the string to the purse and emptied the contents into her hand. A substantial amount of coins fell into her palm. “But these are.”

Astarion gasped and felt around his person again. You and Mol laughed at the look on his face. “Har har, I’d like those back now, please.”

Arabella handed the coins back a little too eagerly.

Astarion rolled his eyes. “All of it.”

Arabella’s shoulders slumped and she reached into the pocket of her skirt, handing him another handful of gold. 

“Work on your poker face, darling.” 

Arabella pursed her lips but nodded. 

“Mattis,” Mol said, motioning for him to step forward. 

Mattis nodded and looked between you and Astarion with a smirk. 

He extended his arms, revealing a dagger in each hand. “Whoa,” you said cautiously, motioning for the other kids to step away. 

Astarion laughed. “Be careful with those, kid.” He knelt next to you, looking Mattis in the eye. He elbowed the tiefling gently in the ribs, but it was enough to shock him into loosening his grip. Astarion caught one of the daggers and expertly grabbed the other one by the hilt and yanked it from Mattis’ hand. 

Before Mattis could even register what happened, Astarion was back on his feet, sheathing the daggers through his belt.

You looked at him with a shocked expression. He raised an eyebrow.

“What? Oh please, I didn’t hurt the child, and now he’s no longer armed. You’re welcome.”

You turned to Mattis. “You okay, Mattis?”

Mattis rubbed his chest and nodded. He looked up at Astarion in awe. “You have got to teach me that.”

The other kids agreed and crowded the vampire. 

He laughed uncomfortably. “There are… so many of you.” He looked to you for help.

“Alright guys, let’s give floofy hair some space.”

“Floofy?” Astarion brought a hand up to his hair as the kids dispersed. 

Mol stretched her arms over her head. “Best for last, I suppose.”

She went to reach into the boat for what you had to assume was the lute Astarion had hidden away for you. What she pulled out made you audibly gasp.

You’d expected something tattered, nothing special. Something plucked from the road by someone who didn’t understand the intricacies and nuances of musical instruments, but you knew you’d be content to make due with it because someone you deeply cared for had taken the time to pick it up and take it home to you.

Instead Mol presented you with a lute that looked like it hadn’t even been played yet. It was crafted from rosewood, giving it a pinkish hue and its surface shined as if it were just polished. Delicate roses were carved into the face and the strings were coiled tightly along the neck. 

“Oh,” you breathed out.

Mol raised an eyebrow. “Okay there, hero?”

You shook your head to break the spell. “I- yes.”

Mol turned to Astarion. “And what does this one mean to you? You had it stowed away so carefully with all those pillows and rags. Must be pretty special.”

Astarion cleared his throat. “It’s um… a gift.”

Mirkon giggled. “For who?”

Arabella crossed her arms. “It’s a lute. Clearly it’s for the bard.” She gestured to you with a nod of her head. 

Mattis blew out an unimpressed breath. “I saw her already carrying one around the Grove. Some gift.”

“So what?” Mirkon argued. “I think it’s nice.”

“So do I,” you confirmed, looking at Astarion, who caught your eye then turned away sheepishly. You turned back to the kids. “Want to know something funny?”

The kids looked intrigued and nodded, a few of them giving “yeah’s.”

You leaned in to whisper loudly and placed a hand next to your mouth as if telling a secret. “He broke my other lute,” you pointed your thumb over your shoulder at Astarion.

He scoffed. “I did not!”

You tilted your head at him disapprovingly. “It’s your fault it broke.”

“I-” he tried to dispute you, but came up short and shut his mouth.

Mol laughed. “No wonder she wanted us to swipe your stuff. Although, seems kinda pointless now.” She handed you the lute.

It was a comfortable weight in your hands and you tested the sound. It would need a bit of tuning, but it was good enough for you to cast a minor illusion of fireworks around the kids, who all looked up in awe. You flipped the face of it up towards you and ran your fingers over one of the rose etchings. 

You turned to Astarion who was avoiding eye contact by drawing shapes in the dirt with the tip of his shoe. “Where did you find this?”

He looked at you and perked up, gaining an air of confidence that you usually saw when he was showing off in battle. “Found it on the Risen Road. Some poor soul perished with it hidden away in their belongings under a bunch of useless junk.” He examined his nails, feigning disinterest. “It was from the same horde where I found my hair product. I suspect some Upper City patriar accidentally stumbled into a pack of hungry gnolls on their way back to Baldur’s Gate. One can only imagine why they were all the way out here. But their loss was our gain.” He laughed airily. 

You stood and held your breath. “You’ve held onto this for that long?” 

Astarion deflated a little, caught. “I… may have been saving it for a special occasion.” He saw you move towards him. “Don’t be weird about this,” he warned, holding up a finger. “If you really annoyed me I was planning to give it to you and then destroy it. The look on your face would have been priceless.” He laughed again.

You ignored his deflection and took one of his hands in your own. “You’ve had this since before we-” you paused. “Since before last night.”

Astarion smiled softly. “I told you I liked you.” He looked away again when he asked, “But you like it?”

You bent forward to kiss his cheek. “It’s gorgeous. I love it. Thank you.”

“Gross,” Mattis moaned. “Can we just get our prizes now?”

You turned away from Astarion to face the kids again. “Right.” You clapped your hands together. “GALE!” You shouted, not bothering to turn your body in his direction, knowing he’d hear you anyway. 

Not even a second later, he misty stepped beside you. “Yes?” he asked. “How can I help?”

“Gale,” you said, your tone implying that you needed him to play along, “the kids did a great job of stealing from Astarion tonight.”

Gale furrowed his brow in confusion, but sensed the kind of answer you wanted. “Oh, that is most excellent news.”

You nodded and placed your hands on your hips. “I think we need to discuss their reward.”

“Absolutely,” Gale agreed. He motioned over to a patch of grass a little ways away, “Shall we?”

“Be right back,” you said. 

As you and Gale walked, you heard the kids talking to Astarion.

“So why do you have fangs? You some kind of demon?”

“My father was a bat.”

“Cool, can you fly?”

“No.”

Gale spun on his heel to face you. “So,” he started, “what’s going on?”

“Fair question. I wanted the kids to rob Astarion.”

“Sure,” Gale nodded. “Why?”

You shrugged. “Thought it would be funny. Didn’t think that far ahead.”

Gale nodded again. “Let me guess, you didn’t want them to actually keep the loot and now you need to satiate their desire for spoils of some kind.”

“You got it,” you confirmed.

He held a finger to his chin, lost in thought for a moment. “Alright. Play along.”

“Can do,” you said and followed after Gale back towards the kids.

“Why would I need echolocation if I’m not blind?” Astarion asked, exasperated.

“I don’t know!” Zaki shouted in the same tone. “You’re the one who’s half bat!”

“Tell me you can screech at least?” Meli asked.

Gale cleared his throat and the kids turned to face you.

“I don’t see no prizes,” Mol said, crossing her arms.

“An astute observation, Mol,” Gale agreed. “That’s because I’m going to summon your prizes from the Astral Plane.” Gale raised his eyebrows at you, talking out of his ass.

“Ooohhh,” you gushed, making what he said seem really impressive. 

“You’ve been to the Astral Plane?” Mirkon asked excitedly.

“Of course,” Gale lied.

Arabella cut in. “How do we know you’ve actually been?”

Gale chuckled. “How do you think we met our Githyanki friend?” He pointed to Lae’zel over his shoulder who was in the process of skewering watermelons with her greatsword as a few others watched.

The kids looked back at Gale, seeming to accept his reasoning.

Astarion rolled his eyes.

Gale rubbed his hands together, his fingers sparking with the purple glow of the weave. Something you suspected he was doing to try to further impress and convince the children.

“Who’s first?” he asked.

Meli was about to step forward, but Arabella stopped him.

“Doni got here first, he gets his prize first.”

Meli groaned. “I’m next, then.”

Gale smiled at the boy before him. “Well Doni, it’s Githyanki tradition that their most skilled warriors receive Crowns of Valor.”

You placed a hand on your heart, further playing along. “Gale! You can’t mean-”

“Oh, that’s right,” Gale nodded. “These young, intrepid adventurers deserve the highest of honors.”

You looked at the kids and raised your eyebrows. “That’s amazing!”

The kids shared excited glances and giggles as Astarion leaned in to you.

“To be clear,” he whispered, “Crowns of Valor don’t exist, right?”

“Correct,” you said through an unmoving smile. 

“And I knew that,” Astarion said unconvincingly.

Gale spun his hands through the air, the purple glow of the weave glowing brighter and brighter until a small, Doni sized crown appeared in Gale’s hands. It was of simple construction, made of tin with pointed peaks at the top, like the paper crowns you would make as a child. Then, Gale moved his hands some more and the crown molded itself into something similar to Lae’zel’s armor that you’d first met her in; polished silver with delicately raised patterns throughout, adorned with shining red jewels. 

“Whoa,” you said, genuinely impressed. 

Gale smirked and lifted the crown above Doni’s head. “I now bestow unto you the Githyanki Crown of Valor. Well done, lad.” He placed the crown on Doni’s head, who smiled widely and stepped back for the other kids to observe. 

They ooh’d and ah’d, a few even reaching to touch it, but Doni brought his hands up to the crown to keep it on his head.

Meli excitedly jumped forward. “Me next!”

One by one, the kids stepped up to receive their incredibly real and not conjured on the spot Crowns of Valor from Gale. 

“Thank you for the lute,” you said quietly to Astarion as the two of you watched the parade of children marching up to the wizard.

Astarion clicked his tongue. “I’m not sure you even deserve to keep it, given that you hired a bunch of children to steal it for you.”

You sighed loudly. “Just admit you were bested tonight and move on. I won’t think any less of you for it.”

He hummed in acknowledgement. “Don’t use this one as a club.”

“No promises,” you lifted the lute to mime hitting another imaginary bugbear. 

When Mol received her crown, the last of the kids to do so, Gale stood.

“Oof, the knees,” he muttered before rubbing his hands together to convey that his work here was finished. “Well then! I believe everyone has been thoroughly rewarded for their hard work.” He looked at you and winked. You mouthed a thank you.

Mol took off her crown and inspected it. “Hypothetically, how much could a Githyanki Crown of Valor sell for?”

You and Gale gasped dramatically.

“Why would you want to do that?” you asked, scandalized.

Mol rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Just tell us how much coin we’d get.”

Gale thought for a moment. “Hypothetically, if it were to be appraised, maybe about-” You elbowed him. “-a lot. Despite the absolutely priceless nature of the objects, you’d probably get a lot of coin.” He sounded pained to be saying such things.

“Excellent.” Mol said, examining her crown and then placing it back on her head. “Now,” she said, placing a hand on her hip, “do you need anything else from us? Or can we go? There are drunk adults to swindle.”

“Charming,” Astarion said flatly. 

You straightened. “Yes, you’ve all done an excellent job tonight and are free to go.” 

As the kids were about to leave, you stepped in front of them, blocking their path. 

“No more stealing tonight-” you said and a few of them groaned, “-but it’s fair game again when we see you next. Which will be in Baldur’s Gate when you’re members of a highly respected new guild.” You smiled at Mol who looked at you smugly and nodded. 

“Damn right!” she said proudly. 

The others buzzed with agreement and started dispersing after saying their goodbyes. You hugged Silfy, Arabella, and Mirkon, and waved to the others who promised they’d be careful on their journey to the city. 

You stood back and watched them go, flanked on either side by Astarion and Gale. 

Astarion examined his nails. “Those weren’t worth anything, were they?”

Gale shook his head. “Not unless transmuted tin suddenly gains a lot of value amongst merchants and traders. I’ve been gathering different alchemical items and ingredients all throughout our journey, and that tin that I used was actually from-”

“Ugh, stop talking,” Astarion interrupted. “I merely asked if they were worth anything in case I needed to nick one of them off one of the little roaches before they leave and we never see them again.”

“Astarion,” you whacked his arm lightly. “They’re just kids. And I’m sure we’ll see them again.”

“Whatever you say, darling,” he sighed.

“You could also just ask Gale to make you one if you want.”

“I’d be happy to-”

Astarion held up a hand. “And ruin this hair? I don’t think so.”

You looped your arm through his and watched as a few of the kids retreated into their makeshift headquarters for the evening, while a few others made a point of walking by Lae’zel’s tent first. It was clear they were trying to show off in front of her, but Lae’zel paid them no mind and focused instead on cleaning her greatsword of watermelon chunks. After a moment of them pacing back and forth in front of her, she leered at them and the kids quickly ran back to the temple, terrified she might stab them. Scratch and the owlbear cub chased after them.

You turned to Gale. “Thank you for coming to the rescue. I owe you one.”

Gale smirked. “Is it really a party if one isn’t rescuing their friend from the clutches of their own antics?”

Astarion snorted. “What kind of parties have you attended?”

“Well, I thank you for your quick thinking and skill with the weave.”

Gale puffed his chest. “I am rather excellent at magic, as I’ve said many times over. Though I fear what will happen once those miscreants try to pawn off those fraudulent crowns.”

You shrugged. “That’s a problem for future us.”

Astarion tsked. “Assuming they can catch us.”

You and Gale laughed. 

“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it,” Gale agreed. “I’ll leave you two to your evening. Let me know if you find yourself in any more trouble.” He nodded his head to you. “Good night.”

“Good night Gale,” you smiled as he walked back towards the excitement of the party where Karlach and Rolan were partaking in a loud drinking contest.

Astarion pulled you closer to him and squeezed your hip. “I still can’t believe you did that. After everything I’ve done for you.”

You smiled at him. “Ah yes, thank you for deciding not to kill me every day since you’ve met me.”

He pulled you into a kiss. “You’re welcome,” he said, muffled against your mouth. Unsurprisingly, he tasted of wine.

You pulled away and inclined your head towards Withers, still standing stoically nearby.

Astarion rolled his eyes. “I’m not even entirely sure he’s paying attention half the time, what with his distant stare and lack of meaningful conversation.”

“He called you my ‘bosom companion’ earlier.”

“He did what?” Astarion looked past you at the skeleton who made no move to acknowledge either of you. “I’ve barely had any time with her bosom yet, thank you.”

When Withers didn’t respond, you laughed and bent down to get a better grasp on your new lute. Astarion joined you, picking up his recently returned items and turning to face you. 

“Care to join me on a walk?” he asked.

You smirked. “This isn’t part of another plan to bed me, is it?”

Astarion laughed. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He made his voice low and gravelly.

Your face went red. “Aren’t you drunk?” you asked, deflecting his advances as the two of you started making your way towards Astarion’s tent.

“Ah, ah,” Astarion tutted, “I was only ever tipsy. And to be honest, I believe the last of it burned off when the one person I stupidly trust most for some reason, betrayed my trust and stole my things.”

“We got them back!” you argued. 

“Hmm,” Astarion hummed. “Perhaps we should break up.”

You gasped loudly. “How dare you!”

He smirked. “I suppose you’ll have to make it up to me.”

“Am I going to regret asking what you have in mind?”

“I can think of a few options,” he said as you reached his tent and he knelt to return his items to their proper places. 

You yawned. “Oh yeah?”

Astarion rose back up and looked at you softly. “Tired, darling?” 

You mentally surveyed how you were feeling. “I suppose I am.”

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your waist. “A side effect of playing hero for dozens of tieflings. Told you it wasn’t worth it.”

You rested your arms over his shoulders. “And it surely has nothing to do with my lack of sleep last night, does it?”

“I don’t know what you’re implying,” Astarion teased, kissing your forehead. “Go say your good nights.” He nodded towards the heart of the party where Karlach and Rolan were drunkenly singing an old dwarven drinking song. 

You looked at him curiously. “What about you?” 

“Trust me, my sweet, none of them are here to see me.” He tucked some hair behind your ear. “Even though I’m world-endingly beautiful.”

“I think you’ve mentioned that,” you teased. 

“They should count themselves lucky they even caught a glimpse.”

“Alright.”

“I mean, look at me.”

“I got it,” you laughed and pulled away from him, lifting your new lute one last time. “Will I see you later?”

Astarion furrowed his brow. “Do you truly think so little of me?”

You smiled shyly. “I don’t know, I’m still new at all of this.”

His expression grew soft. “As am I. We’ll get the hang of it.” His voice became flamboyant again when he said, “We are the most impressive pair in Faerûn after all.” Then he laughed brightly.

You laughed and turned to make your way to your tent to drop off your lute. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I await on baited breath, my love.”

~~~~~

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Unfortunately tumblr thought this piece was too long (fair) so I had to split it into two parts. The second part can be found here.

[inuette]

Official (Anti) RQ Archive

[PT: Official (Anti) Radqueer Archive. END PT. ]

　Last Updated (DD/MM/YY): 08/01/24. This archive will be updated over time, so make sure to check back regularly if you can! If you have anxiety regarding opening links, no worries! All these posts are archived under our "archived" & resources tags.

Anti-RQ Terms/Flags

'PRAT' meaning

'Fluffy Para'

'Arissomei'/'Arissodic'

'Atypical Dysphoria Awareness' (Creator Boundary)

Reclaimed Transage, Transracial (Adoptee), Transspecies and Transabled Flags

Reclaimed Transabled Flag 2 + Symbol

BIID Flag + Symbol

Parahealth

RQ Terms/Flags

'Faux Cult'/'Fult' and Flags

Xenoanarchism

Other Terms

Doc

PSAs

Radparas

'Kandiqueer'

'Xenosatanism' and Xenosatanist Flags

'@//sophieinwonderland'

The Angel's Web "Fult"

'Not All Radqueers'

Initial 'Fult' PSA

"The Ezra Files" (Content/Trigger Warning: (Pro-C) Pedophilia, Incest, Bestiality, Zoosadism, Toddler/Baby Abuse, Grooming, CSEM Trading, Rape, Abduction, Admissions Of CSA, Admissions Of Incest, Admissions Of Bestiality…)

TransN*zi Symbols

Other Resources

What IS A Radqueer? Why Are They Bad?

RQ Original Coining Info

RQs are a Cult

RQs and Stochastic Terrorism

The Insult of 'Cisdisabled'

BIID and RQ Grooming

RQ '2024 Calendar'

Talk of Atypical Dysphoria

WHY Misuse of Transrace and the term 'Trace' are Bad

Talk of "Transautism"/being "Transautistic"

You Cannot 'Coin' A Medical Disorder/Talk of "MUDs"

Intrusive Thoughts About =/= Actually Believing in Them

'I have intrusive thoughts about ...' isn't a 'Valid' Excuse

Transitioning When It Comes To TransIDs and TransX Identities

Transethnic People Aren't Valid (Focuses on East Asians & Koreans)

There Are Better Ways to Cope with Atypical Dysphoria

Why Arissomei/Arissodic is its Own Term

Racial Hierarchy and Being "Trace"/"Transracial"

Blackface is Blackface — Your "Intent" Doesn't Matter

Alternative (Non-TERF Rhetoric) Anti-Radqueer Arguments

Suibaiting Radqueers ISN'T Okay

If You're Thinking of Leaving the RQ Community

'Cracker' is Not a Slur

Suibaiting RQs isn't Welcome Here

Radinclus does NOT Mean Radqueer

Misusage of Languages in RQ Spaces

How-To's

Reporting a RQ for Inciting Violence

(Fighting Against) RQs Rebranding Terms as 'RQ Terms'

Coping with Atypical Dysphoria

Getting Out and Staying Out Of the Community

General Tips

Reaffirmation

Reaffirmation of Why RQs are Bad (TWs included in the post)

BIID (Body Integrity Identity Disorder) =/= Radqueer (Affirmation)

[coquettebratzdoll]

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

CREATE YOUR OWN FEEDBACK LOOP

Lemme introduce two people to you, Lucy and Barbra. You see, they both want a college admission into a prestigious university, Harvard. They both had average grades in high school and graduated with C averages. Surely not enough to get into Harvard, right?

Lucy felt that way. So when she went about actually trying to get into Harvard, she kept on thinking of ways to make her application appealing. She wrote in detail about her extra curiculars, her qualities, etc. Still, in the back of her mind, she believed that she had very low odds. After all, she saw that 4.6% acceptance rate. She thought that her odds of making it was very slim- if not zero.

Then we have Barbra. She also knows about Harvard's low acceptance rate, but that didn't stop her. She didn't try to do anything fancy on her application, just what she needed and a bit more for fun. She was confident and steadfast in her belief that she'd make it into Harvard, despite what everyone around her was telling her.

Wanna guess who made it into Harvard?

You see, it's quite easy to fall into the mindset of Lucy. After all, it's only 'logical'. Everything around her was reaffirming the 'fact' that it's extremely hard to get into Harvard. But wait a minute ! That creates a negative feedback loop. You see, your observations create an assumption, your assumption hardens into a belief, and that belief dictates what you observe around you.

Observations → Assumptions → Beliefs and it repeats in an endless cycle

Now, you may be asking, "How do I 'fix' this?" I'm glad you asked ! You see, what makes Barbra different from Lucy is that Barbra did not look to the 3d for validation. She knew deep down that she'd make it. This doesn't mean that she didn't have any doubts, but she rest assured that even with doubts, she would make it in. She got that acceptance letter because of her belief that she would.

What we can learn from this is that in order to change the feedback loop, you should observe your desired circumstance within the 4d, rather than the 3d. The 4d is the true reality, and the moment you observe it there, it is done. Assumption and belief will follow.

[peachdues]

THE SWEET FAR THING — SNIPPET

Knight!Kyojuro x Princess!Reader • Royal AU

A/N: yes, there’s going to be smut, but there’s also going to be angst (because who am I if not the connoisseur of angsty romance?)

“Do you think this is easy for me?” Rengoku exploded, whipping around to face you. The fire in his eyes could have burned you alive, could have reduced the magnificent castle around you to ash. “Do you think it does not tear me apart to know that you are meant for another?”

Rengoku swore violently, his outburst making you flinch.

“That I cannot have you the way I desire — and I do not mean merely taking you to bed,” the knight’s anguish was palpable as he gripped at fistfuls of his hair. “I mean that I cannot claim you as mine for the world to see; I cannot kiss you. I cannot marry you. I cannot love you.”

Once, his admission — his confession — of his true feelings for you would have made your heart soar. That he would’ve wanted you as ardently as you’d longed for him would have soothed the inferno raging with your heart; tamed it to a steady, tender flame that burned for him and him alone.

Now, you only felt cold.

“And yet you’ve still taken liberties with me,” you fixed your gaze upon the stone behind his head, unable to bear witness to the way he visibly deflated. “You have touched me and tasted me with abandon.”

Even the cadence of your voice felt foreign. “Some would even argue you’ve compromised my virtue.”

It did not matter if he’d revealed the depth of his feelings for you; the earnestness of his confession was poisoned by his own actions — by his disregard for you in favor of his own selfish wants.

Rengoku dropped his head in shame. “I know.”

Your accusation had been made in earnest, and yet you recoiled all the same from the ugly stab of his words.

It would’ve hurt less if he’d hit you.

An uncomfortable silence hung heavy in the air until the knight roughly cleared his throat.

“And that is why I am to join the Hashira — why I am to leave the castle by the next full moon.”

Your lungs constricted harshly, your breath eking out of you in a pitiful, strangled wheeze. “Y-you’re —?”

His pained expression was a sure mirror of your own. “I cannot do it, Y/N,” he said roughly, not bothering with the formality of your title. “I cannot sit back and watch as you’re married off to another.”

The skin of his knuckles turned white as the knight balled his fists. “It is tradition that the Guards of both parties attend the consummation — to confirm the marriage is valid.”

Rengoku’s eyes screwed tightly shut, and his head turned stiffly to the side, as though he could avoid facing the ugly truth of it all. He exhaled harshly, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he worked to open his eyes once more.

“You cannot ask me to bear witness to that.”

And yet, he was asking you to endure life as a caged bird without even the hope to dream of flight; of him.

“If you leave, I will have nothing left,” you whispered, eyes wide and unblinking. “I will have no reason to continue on; nothing worth living for.”

Rengoku’s attention snapped to you in alarm. In a flash, he’d closed the distance between you, his hands locking around your shoulders, fingers digging uncomfortably — urgently — into your skin.

“Don’t,” he warned, voice low and full of anger. “Don’t ever say that. Don’t you dare even think it, not even for a moment.”

[chestnutninny]

Dinner Date

No warnings, just pure fluff with Emily :)))

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

The last few weeks, you had noticed Emily’s change in behaviour. She had been a lot more subdued than usual and it was starting to show to the rest of the team too. Every time you were both in the same room, her head would remain down and if you tried to talk to her, she would just stammer out an excuse and run off somewhere else.

“You know, you should just ask her out.” Derek remarked.

“What?” Emily responded, genuine confusion flashing across her features.

“Those feelings that you have, they aren’t going to go away any time soon. Trust me. What’s the worst that she’ll say, I’m sure she’ll understand.”

Emily frowned at him, not fully agreeing  with his statement. She could think of lots of bad ways it could end up turning out, you being completely disgusted by her admission. However, she knew that at least then she’d have some form of validation.

She sat at her desk, plucking up the courage to ask you out, and thinking of how she would word it. She thought that she would keep it casual and just ask you out for dinner, but ultimately decided that coffee would suffice if you were limited for time. She stood up and made her way towards your desk as you were packing up your belongings, getting ready to go home after finishing your paperwork.

“Hey.” She greeted, nervously shuffling from foot to foot.

“Hi, Em!” You looked up at her, a smile taking its place on your lips. She couldn’t help the blush that tinted her cheeks at the nickname that effortlessly slipped from your mouth.

“I was thinking…”

“Oh no, I thought I could smell burning.” You joked with a smirk on your face, trying to lighten the mood as you could see she was nervous. You watched as she visibly relaxed slightly, a chuckle leaving her mouth in a sigh as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“Would you…” She started and abruptly stopped, watching as your face waited for her to continue, “Would you like- I mean, if you’re not busy…We could get lunch or dinner? Or maybe just coffee, if you don’t have a lot of time?”

“Do I make you nervous?” You stood closer to her, her breath catching in her throat, as you tucked a lock of her raven hair behind her ear. You chuckled as her head nodded rapidly, “I can do dinner.”

“Wait, really? I can’t lie, I didn't think any further than that, I wasn’t expecting you to agree.”

“Aw, Emily. Well, have a think about a date and time and just let me know.” She nodded along and returned back to her own desk, smiling as you exited the room.

“As if you picked her up, stuttering like that.” Derek laughed, feigning shock when Emily threw a scrunched up piece of paper towards him.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

The next day, Hotch had told everyone that they would have a shorter day, only having to do the final bits of paperwork that was left. You were earlier than the majority of the team, wanting to get a head start of the work. You looked up as you felt someone stood above you.

“Good morning.” Emily chirped, setting a cup of coffee down on your desk.

“Morning. Is this for me?” You smiled when she nodded at you walking past your desk and sitting up to her own.

You looked at the cup and took notice of the sticky note that was attached to the side of the cup. You took it off and took a sip of the warm beverage before reading the note. You hummed as the coffee enveloped your taste buds, blushing as you released that Emily had remembered your very specific order, before shouting a “thank you” over your shoulder.

‘Hey, pretty. Be ready for 7, I’ll see you then.’

You held the note closer to you, getting a smell of her perfume, your stomach doing backflips at the thought of tonight.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

You stood in front of the mirror, checking yourself out in the small, black dress you decided on wearing, admiring the way it hugged your curves and pushed up your cleavage just enough to grab Emily’s attention. You still couldn’t completely shake the nerves that you were feeling, yet excited to finally have Emily in a way that wasn’t just friends. You were excited to see where she had decided to take you, when suddenly a knock on your door pulled you from your thoughts.

You answered the door, seeing Emily standing at the other side of the threshold to your apartment. She was wearing a white dress shirt with flared black trousers, the pants fitting snugly around her hips. She was holding a small bouquet of flowers out towards you, all of your favourite flowers compiled together perfectly.

“Hey, you.” You leaned forward, planting a kiss to her cheek, a satisfied smirk leading its way on your face at the blush that kept up Emily’s neck.

“Hey! Wow, you look so beautiful, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Em. But I think you take the title for the most beautiful.”

You invited her into your apartment and she handed you the flowers, watching as you put them in a vase after filling it with water. She waited patiently for you to slip your shoes on and grab your purse before heading towards the front door. After you locked your door, you linked your arm with Emily’s and headed down to the parking section of your apartment complex.

“You know, I never actually gave you my address.” You bumped your shoulder with your own as you squinted your eyes at her.

“Well…Okay, I may or may not have asked Garcia to look it up on the computer system.” She shrugged nonchalantly, however you could see the embarrassment bubble in her eyes. You giggle at the flush that covers her face, and the way she avoids your eyes.

As you reach her car, she pulls your door open for you, waiting for you to get comfortable before closing the door to make her way around to her own side of the car. She ensures that you have your belt on before putting the car into drive and setting off towards your destination for tonight. You gasp as you pull into the parking lot of a new, and very fancy, restaurant that had just opened just outside of your town.

You didn’t even want to think about how costly this place is and how Emily had even managed to snag a reservation at the restaurant as the demands were high. You were pulled from your thoughts when your car door swung open, revealing Emily stood by your side with her hand outstretched, ready for you to take. You unclipped your seatbelt and took her hand, letting her guide you to the entrance to the restaurant.

She gave the reservation name at the front desk, following as the waiter led you both to your table, which was quiet and private in the corner of the restaurant. She ordered drinks for you both as you looked through the ample meals that were presented on the menus in front of you both. You settled on a risotto, which you couldn’t completely pronounce the name of, and Emily ordered the Fiorentina steak for herself.

The conversation flowed easily between the two of you throughout the night, and you noticed the confidence that Emily had slowly started to gain, showing that she had become more comfortable about being around you, especially alone together. You had both finished your meals and had ended with your dessert, just sipping the remains of the red wine that resided in your glasses. Emily had waved the waiter over to pay the bill, declining your offer of going half with her payment.

“You didn’t have to do that, Em.” You complained, knowing that she had spent an absolute fortune on the meals that you had helped devour.

“Well, I wanted to have the best first date with such a gorgeous woman.” She winked over to you, which left you blushing and stuttering over your words, the tables having completely flipped by now.

She led you out of the restaurant, your hand in hers, and guided you back to the car before she set off to drop you back off at your apartment. She turned on the radio as you both settled into the car, and your favourite song started to play, echoing off the windows of the vehicle.

“Oh my God, I love this song!” You exclaimed, you smile growing as Emily’s hand reached over and turned the volume up more, so that she could hear it better. 

She giggled to herself as the chorus came on and you began to sing your heart out to the song, watching the way you looked so happy and care-free, you looked the most beautiful right now. The song came to a close and you both sat in a comfortable silence, enjoying the company of being together right now. After a while, the car pulled into your apartment complex and Emily looked over to you.

“I’ll walk you to the door.” She decided, opening the driver's door before opening your door for you. 

You reached for her hand as you walked up the path to the main doors, and closer towards your apartment. You decided to take the stairs rather than the lift, wanting to spend as much time with Emily as you could before the night was over and she retired to her own home. You both slowed as you arrived at your apartment door,her hand lingering in yours.

“Thank you for tonight, Em. It’s honestly been amazing.” You smiled as your head dipped down, your hair falling slightly to frame your face.

“No, thank you, Y/N. I’m glad that I finally had the courage to ask you out. I’m really excited for our next one.”

“Ohh, so there’s going to be a next on, huh?” You smirked, despite the butterflies that were fluttering in your stomach with nervousness and excitement at the mention of another date with Emily.

“U-Um, only if you want of course?” Emily stuttered, her confidence flattering slightly.

“Of course, Emily. I’d love nothing more.”

You reached into your purse, pulling out your keys and sliding them into the door. Emily reached out her hand and took your hand in hers, giving it a squeeze in order to gain your attention. She tucks a strand of your hair that came loose behind your ear.

You leaned in closer to her, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt her warmth breath on your face, a complete contrast to the cool night. She leaned in and closed the gap in between you both. Her hands caress your cheeks, holding you close to her face, her body pressing against your own. 

“Thank you for tonight, Y/N.” Emily gasps out as you both part, coming up for air.

“Goodnight.” She pressed a kiss to your cheek, before setting off back down your corridor.

“Goodnight, Em.” You whispered back, watching as she turned the corner to the corridor, shooting you a smile over her shoulder as she disappeared from your sight.

You let yourself into your apartment and set down your belongings, a huge grin residing on your face after your incredible date. You couldn't wait for tomorrow at work, knowing exactly that Emily would return to her stuttering self without the liquid courage, and you could already see the deep blush setting on her face when her eyes would meet your own. You were snagged from your thoughts as your phone pinged.

‘I’m home, sweetheart.’

Your heart fluttered at the nickname as well as her informing you that she was home and safe. You slipped on your pyjamas and got into bed. As soon as your head hit the pillow, your eyes fluttered shut and your head filled with happy memories of the night that you’d just participated in.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Taglist: @borinxnovak @zolofts @lolololalalala @chloeelou02x (join my taglist here.)

[moonselune]

If your comfortable doing it, fem reader who's been nothing but kind and patient and supportive to everyone, revealing by accident they grew up in a abusive upbringing and it still affects them but they felt compared to everyone else's problems hers were minor and so not worth getting upset over. And of course everyone giving her some support this time

Oof this was hard to write, mainly bcs I'm not too good at writing serious angst, but I hope this is okay !

tw: abuse

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a rare, calm evening around the campfire. The group was in good spirits, sharing stories and laughter. You, ever the cheerful one, were in the midst of recounting a particularly funny tale from your past.

"…and that's when my father threw the table across the room because dinner was five minutes late. Good times, right?" you chuckled, the laughter trailing off as you noticed the sudden silence around the fire. The others stared at you, their expressions a mix of shock and concern.

Astarion was the first to speak, his usual playful smirk replaced with a serious look. "Did you just say your father threw a table at you?"

You blinked, realizing the gravity of what you had just let slip. "Oh, yeah. He had a bit of a temper. But, you know, it's in the past. No big deal."

Wyll leaned forward, his brow furrowed. "No big deal? That's… that's abuse. Why didn't you ever tell us?"

Karlach, her fiery nature tempered by concern, placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Yeah, why keep something like that to yourself? We're your friends. We care about you."

Shadowheart's eyes were filled with empathy as she added, "You've always been so supportive and happy. I had no idea you were carrying this with you."

You shrugged, trying to downplay it. "Everyone here has their own problems. I just didn't think mine were as bad as what some of you have been through. I didn't want to burden anyone."

Lae'zel looked at you uncharacteristically gently. "Strength is not only in battle but in sharing our burdens. You should not have faced this alone."

Minthara, her stern demeanor softened, nodded in agreement. Gale, ever the one with something to say, spoke up. "Pain is not a competition. Your experiences are valid, and they matter."

"We are a family here. We support each other, no matter the weight of our pasts." Halsin gave you a reassuring smile from across the fire.

Jaheira, who had seen much in her long life and was not terribley surprised by your admission, added with a soft yet firm tone, "You are not alone. We are here for you, just as you have always been here for us."

The weight of their words settled over you, a comforting warmth replacing the usual isolation you felt when thinking about your past. You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of relief and vulnerability.

"Thank you, all of you," you said, your voice wavering slightly. "I guess I just got used to hiding it. But it means a lot to know I have your support."

Karlach squeezed your shoulder reassuringly, her warm smile returning. "Anytime. You're stuck with us, whether you like it or not."

Astarion, his usual humor returning, gave you a wink. "And don't worry, we'll make sure to give you a hard time about it too. Can't have you getting too serious on us."

Laughter rippled through the group, the tension easing. The fire crackled warmly, and you felt a deep sense of belonging.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[elderwisp]

◁ || ▷

?: Listen skank.

Dan: God..?

?: I found a hair in my burger and I need you to refund it for me. Also make me another.

Dan: The hell you think you’re talkin’ to?

Kai: Hai.

Dan: Bitch! I thought you died! 

Kai: Nope, just life. Work. College. The usual.

Dan: Hmph. Let’s go sit.

Kai: Wait, aren’t you on the clock?

Dan: Yeah? Who gives a fuck? And if they do, I’ll punch ‘em.

Kai: DAN!

Dan: Meh, it doesn’t matter. I have news.

-

Kai: Holy shit, congrats!

Dan: It’ll be nice working near the bay. The company sounds pretty great too. 401k, free admission to the aquarium, and healthcare. First time in my life I’ve ever had that. Wild.

Kai: I’m happy for you! Who else knows?

Dan: Uh, just you, Frances and Atlas. I’ll probably tell the others at the record store soon. Gotta keep them up to date with the lore.

Kai: Ah. Have you told your dad?

Dan: No-uh. 

Kai: I see.

Dan: I want to tell him, I really do. 

Kai: So what’s stopping you?

Dan: Ugh, feelings. Don’t make me talk about them right now.

Kai: Fine! We can talk about something else.

Dan: Let’s talk about you.

Kai: Naur.

Dan: Si. Where’ve you been loca?

Kai: [ cackles ] I hate you!

Dan: I’m sorry! You seem so… Different. Confident, maybe? 

Kai: I didn’t realize. I dunno, a lot’s happened. 

Dan: Like?

Kai: I slept with someone. Well, multiple people, actually. Taryn knows I like men. About Atlas, too. Speaking of which, there’s no fixing that.

Dan: What the fuck.

Kai: [ chuckles ] I’m surprised you took all of this for confidence.

Dan: I mean, you seem to be holding up better than I expected.

Kai: I feel hollow, Dan. Like everything’s wrong but I gotta accept it.

Dan: You can change it. 

Kai: Maybe, but the way I left things with Alex-

Dan: Alex? Who?

Kai: He’s a good person and I… Took advantage of that.

Dan: What’d you do?

Kai: The night of the party. I told Atlas how I felt. Subconsciously I mean. It all sorta slipped out. I wasn’t really planning on it but he said some things. Well, we both said some nasty things. I was angry. He said that I knew nothing of compassion so I called Alex. I called him and I proved Atlas right. 

Dan: Kai…

Kai: I felt so ashamed after sleeping with him. Using him to mask the rejection I felt. He didn’t deserve that. I’m such a shitty person.

Dan: Don’t go there. 

Kai: It’s so hard not to.

Dan: So you made a mistake-

Kai: Several.

Dan: Everyone fucks up. There is not one person I’ve met that has done everything right. Look at our friend group. Complete mess but I’d like to think at the end of the day we’ve got each other. Regardless of flaws, it’s always been us. 

Kai: I miss it. All of us. Together.

Dan: I do too, but we’ve all got shit to sort out, yeah? Why not give yourself the space to do so as well.

Kai: Sure.

Dan: And stop calling yourself horrible, got that?

Kai: Maybe.

Dan: Bastard. 

Kai: How are you gonna tell me to be nice when you do this shit?

Dan: I never said I was perfect! Want me to grab you a milkshake? 

Kai: Hell no, you said you never clean it.

Dan: PFFT- Valid. I’ll grab you a soda.

Kai: Hey, wait.

Dan: What’s up?

Kai: Thank you for taking care of us.

Dan: Someone’s got to.

[inkmonster21]

Short n’ Sweet💋

Hugh Jackman x Fem!Sister!Reynolds!Reader

Warnings: none

Part 14

Series Masterlist

I Leave Quite An Impression

💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋

Your album quickly became a record-breaking success, surpassing all expectations and soaring to new heights. It skyrocketed up the charts, quickly climbing to the top and dominating the music scene. Fans from around the world praised the album, mesmerized by the unique sound and captivating lyrics.

The achievement was a testament to your talent and hard work, a validation of the countless hours you had poured into creating the album. With each passing day, the album continued to solidify its place in the music industry, marking a significant milestone in your career.

Just as you were contemplating a well-deserved break, Hugh sprung a question upon you, catching you off guard. You looked at him, curious and a tad bit apprehensive.

“Do you want to go on the press tour?” As Hugh posed the question to you, your gaze remained fixed on his, a mix of surprise and interest filling your eyes. "Press tour?" you echoed, the words dancing on your lips. The prospect of embarking on a promotional tour had not been on your immediate agenda, but Hugh's suggestion sparked a flicker of curiosity within you. "You mean, like interviews, events, and all that?" you inquired, seeking clarification on what exactly he had in mind.

Hugh nodded in affirmation, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "Yeah, exactly. A press tour," he confirmed, his voice tinged with excitement. "Interviews, meet and greets, promotional events, the whole works." The possibilities seemed endless, the idea of connecting with your fans and promoting your album in a more personal way was both thrilling and slightly intimidating.

You chuckled, a hint of self-deprecating humor in your voice as you said, “I’m only in the movie for like 30 minutes. I doubt anyone wants the inside scoop on my terrible acting performance.” You downplayed your role, brushing off the idea that your brief screen time would generate much interest. The thought of being the center of attention during a press tour seemed comical given your limited acting skills.

Hugh leaned in closer, a playful smile on his face as he traced a finger down your cheek. "What if I want the inside scoop?" he teased, his gaze fixed on yours. The simple gesture sent a shiver down your spine, his touch both gentle and electrifying. Your laughter subsided as you met his gaze, the earnestness in his eyes making your heart flutter.

Your mumbled words against his lips were a sweet, almost bashful admission. "You get every inside scoop," you confessed, the words tinged with vulnerability and just a touch of hesitation. There was a depth to the statement, an implication that he had access to parts of you that no one else did - both on and off camera, both personal and professional.

Hugh's laughter brought a warmth to your heart, his words genuine and sincere. "But really," he insisted, his voice carrying a hint of tenderness, "I want you there." The simple phrase held a multitude of meanings, a mix of desire for your presence, support for your career, and a perhaps a hint of possessiveness.

You feigned reluctance, offering a playful protest before ultimately giving in. "Fine, but when this blows up in my face, I'm blaming you. I suck at interviews," you said, trying to maintain a facade of nonchalance while your heart skipped a beat. The thought of facing the press and navigating interviews was daunting, a stark departure from the comfortable anonymity you had grown used to.

Hugh chuckled, clearly pleased with your agreement. "That's the spirit," he teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just keep blaming me. I'll gladly take the heat." His confidence was infectious, and a part of you found comfort in his willingness to shoulder the blame. Yet, under the surface, a flicker of doubt and anxiety remained, reminding you of the challenging journey ahead.

You sat in the makeup chair, watching as skilled hands transformed your already-lovely face into a work of art. Your hair was styled to perfection, and the final touches were added to your makeup, accentuating your features and readying you for the first interview. As the team finished up their work, you took a moment to steal a glance at yourself in the mirror, admiring the result. The process was intense but necessary, and it left you feeling both glamorous and a bit anxious.

Your excitement grew as you approached the interview, particularly because you were about to participate in the iconic Vanity Fair Lie Detector test. You had heard stories about celebrities taking the challenge, and now it was your turn. The prospect of facing the test, being under the intense spotlight, and answering difficult questions left you buzzing with a mix of anticipation and nerves.

Ryan's voice rang out in surprised disbelief. "What the fuck are you doing here?" his words echoed through the room, a mix of surprise and confusion evident in his tone. You paused, turning to face him, a bit startled by his unexpected appearance.

You sauntered over to Hugh, a mischievous smirk playing on your lips. Without hesitation, you wrapped an arm around him, your body molding perfectly against his. Responding to Ryan's question, you declared, "My boyfriend invited me." The words rolled off your tongue with ease, a possessive yet lighthearted claim on Hugh.

Ryan's reaction was immediate, his scoff betraying his skepticism. "Oh I'm gonna grill your ass on that lie detector," he retorted, a challenge evident in his voice. There was a glimmer of mischief in his eyes as if he was ready to expose any secrets you tried to keep hidden.

You met Ryan's smirk with one of your own, your tone playful and confident. "Go for it," you said, your voice dripping with a hint of sass, "the only secret I had was that I was fucking your best friend." The words hung in the air, a clear declaration of your intimate connection with Hugh. Ryan looked taken aback, his expression a mixture of surprise and disbelief. “Oh, my god. This is going to be amazing.”

“Who’s going first?” The air was tense as the question hung in the air, the atmosphere charged with anticipation. Hugh, you, and Ryan all looked at each other, waiting to see who would go first. The choice seemed to carry a subtle challenge: who was brave enough to subject themselves to the scrutiny of the lie detector test first?

After a brief moment of silence, you spoke up with a confident smile, "Why don't you have a go, Ryan?" Your words suggested a sense of sportsmanship, encouraging him to take the first step.

Ryan, who was never one to back down from a challenge, smirked back at you, his eyes locked on yours. "Sure," he agreed, a hint of competitiveness in his tone. He stepped forward, signaling that he would indeed take the first turn in the hot seat.

Ryan settled into the chair, his body taut with anticipation. The polygraph machine was connected to him, its probes and wires snaking across his body, recording every subtle shift in physiological response. The room was deathly silent, the only sound coming from the quiet hum of the machinery.

Hugh, attempting to maintain his composure, began the questioning process, his voice steady despite the hint of amusement in his eyes. "Now Ryan," he started, barely holding back a laugh, "I'm going to ask you some straightforward questions to calibrate the machine." He paused, fighting the urge to let out a chuckle, and then continued, "Are you comfortable and not under any kind of influence?"

Ryan's remark drew a laugh from his own lips, his response laced with a hint of sarcasm and self-deprecation. "Oh I wish I was under the influence," he joked, the words a mix of playfulness and genuine desire to escape the intensity of the moment. The room filled with laughter, a brief but much-needed release of tension.

Louis, the man operating the lie detector test, acknowledged Ryan's statement with a nod, confirming the machine's response. "Truthful," he confirmed, his professional tone breaking the brief moment of levity in the room. The serious atmosphere quickly returned, the gravity of the situation once again palpable.

Hugh resumed the questioning, his voice more serious now, as he asked the next question. "Is your full name Ryan Rhondy Reynolds?" The question seemed straightforward, but the machine's reading was crucial for establishing the test's accuracy. The room fell silent once more, all eyes on Ryan as he awaited his response.

Ryan let out a mock sigh, his response dripping with self-deprecating humor. "Unfortunately, yes," he confirmed, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. The room chuckled at his response, the momentary lightheartedness breaking the tension once more.

Hugh continued with the next question, a curious smile on his face. "You previously talked about failing a high school drama class," he brought up, "Does this explain your limited range?" The question was a mild jab, gently mocking Ryan's acting skills. The room waited in anticipation for his response, eager to see how he would take the playful ridicule.

As Ryan broke out into laughter, his response laced with humor and self-awareness. "It's probably one of the many reasons," he acknowledged, "I just don't think anyone wants to see me as a Dutch impressionist painter, right?" He directed the question to Louis, the man operating the machine, who confirmed his statement with a nod. "True," Louis replied, his tone remaining professional despite the casual banter in the room.

Hugh's smile indicated his next move, and he turned to Ryan, seeking his permission. "Now I'm going to have your sister join me," he said, a hint of anticipation in his eyes. "Would that be okay?" The room felt the shift in the conversation, the introduction of Ryan's sister adding an unexpected dynamic to the already charged atmosphere.

Ryan's smirk betrayed a hint of nervousness, his attempt to mask his emotions failing as he responded to Hugh's request. "Yeah, love that sister of mine," he replied, his voice a mix of feigned nonchalance and genuine worry about what was to come. The room tensed up in anticipation, everyone waiting for his sister's entrance.

Louis, the lie detector operator, looked up at the machine before announcing his conclusion. "Deceptive," he stated, his professional tone belying the significance of the word. The room fell silent once more as the implication of his statement sunk in. Ryan's smirk faded, replaced by a flicker of concern, as he turned to Hugh, awaiting his next question.

You made your way into the room, taking your place beside Hugh, a stack of cards in your hands. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation as all eyes fell on you. Hugh looked at you briefly, a hint of reassurance in his eyes, before turning back to Ryan, preparing for the next question.

You asked the question, addressing Ryan directly. "Ryan," you said, a hint of curiosity in your tone, "when mom's glass angel broke, did do it and you blame me?" The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for Ryan's response and the verdict of the lie detector. All eyes were on him as he prepared to answer the question.

Ryan's response came, his voice steady despite the hint of tension in the air. "No, of course not," he said, his words firm and resolute. The room was silent as everyone waited for Louis to confirm the truth or deception of Ryan's answer, the lie detector the final judge in the matter.

Louis, the lie detector operator, looked up from the machine and confirmed the result. "Deceptive," he stated, his tone neutral. The room remained silent for a moment, the verdict hanging in the air. Ryan's eyes flicked to you, a mix of surprise and resignation in his gaze.

You reacted with mock outrage, pointing a finger at Ryan with feigned shock. "I was 12!" you exclaimed, emphasizing the innocence and vulnerability of your young age. The room chuckled at the display, the humor in the situation providing a momentary respite from the tension.

Ryan admitted to the blame, his smirk betraying a hint of guilt despite the lighthearted tone. "And the easiest one to blame! Sorry!" he acknowledged with a shrug, his attempt at an apology seeming more playful than sincere. The room chuckled again, the exchange between you both creating a humorous moment amidst the serious atmosphere.

You and Hugh alternated asking Ryan questions, the interaction taking on a playful bantering vibe in the room. You asked your questions with wit and humor, while Hugh, being closer to Ryan, posed his questions with a mix of seriousness and banter. The room filled with laughter and banter, the lie detector's responses adding suspense to every answer.

You posed the final question to Ryan, a smirk on your lips. "Can you listen to my new song 'Juno' without thinking about Hugh?" you asked, half-teasing and half-curious about the answer. The room fell silent, anticipating Ryan's response and the lie detector's verdict.

Ryan's response was quick, a mix of sarcasm and genuine annoyance. "Ugh fuck, I can't even listen to it at all," he remarked. The room broke out in laughter, the bluntness of his answer adding to the humor of the moment.

Louis, the lie detector operator, confirmed the truth of Ryan's response with a nod. "Truthful," he said, his tone neutral despite the light-hearted banter in the room.

You all broke out into laughter again, the room filling with mirth and amusement. The tension of the lie detector test seemed to lift as you all shared a moment of genuine laughter, the lighthearted banter easing the earlier seriousness.

Hugh took his turn in the hot seat, preparing himself as Ryan and you looked on, ready to take turns asking him questions. The atmosphere in the room shifted slightly, the focus turning to Hugh and the questions that were about to be asked.

Ryan greeted his friend with a mischievous smirk, his voice filled with playful mockery. "Hello, Hugh," he said, clearly enjoying the role reversal. The room chuckled, anticipating the questions that were about to follow.

Ryan, still sporting that smirk, nodded, "Just gonna ask you a few simple questions to calibrate the machine, okay?" he confirmed, his tone friendly but with a hint of mischief. The room went quiet, the anticipation building as everyone waited for Hugh's response, and what it would reveal about the lie detector's accuracy.

Ryan began the questioning with a straightforward question, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Is it true that your full name is Hugh Michael Jackman?" The room waited in anticipation for Hugh's response, the lie detector recording his reaction to every word.

Hugh, composed and unfazed, responded candidly. "Yes," he affirmed, his voice steady. The room chuckled, the simplicity of the question and Hugh's straightforward answer creating a lighthearted moment.

Ryan continued with the questioning, another straightforward question. "Are you from Sydney, Australia?"

Hugh confirmed the truth of the statement with a nod and a soft smile. "Yes," he answered, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. The room remained quiet, awaiting the verdict of the lie detector test.

Ryan's smirk grew wider as he asked the next question, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "Is it true that you sugar daddy my little sister?" The room chuckled, the tension from the earlier questions replaced with amusement at the absurdity of the question and Ryan's choice of words.

Hugh's laugh echoed through the room, his response quick and firm. "No!" he asserted, his tone playful but unwavering. The room chuckled again, the lie detector's response providing evidence against Ryan's exaggerated question.

Louis, the lie detector operator, looked up from the machine and announced the result. "Deceptive," he stated, his tone neutral but leaving a brief moment of silence in its wake. The room seemed to hold its breath as they all processed the unexpected outcome.

Hugh laughs, “I just treat her well! You can’t base that as being a sugar daddy!” Hugh looks to you for help, “darling?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at Hugh’s defense, amused by his denial and the unexpected turn of events. "Sorry babe," you teased, feigning sympathy, "seems like the machine says otherwise." The room chuckled, enjoying the lighthearted banter and the unexpected twist.

You smiled and tapped your postcard, shifting gears with your question. "Now, is it true that you've been trying to meet me for the past three years?" The room seemed to hold its breath as everyone waited for Hugh's response, curious to hear if his efforts had truly gone unnoticed for so long.

Hugh's immediate answer filled the room with confirmation. "Absolutely true, probably longer," he admitted, his tone carrying a mix of sincerity and a touch of sheepishness. The room chuckled at the revelation, the truth of his statement creating a lighthearted moment despite the underlying tension.

Louis, the lie detector operator, nodded in agreement. "Truthful," he confirmed, the lie detector's verdict adding fuel to the fire. The room chuckled again, the unexpected twist in the questioning adding an element of excitement to the test.

Hugh continued, a smirk directed at Ryan as he spoke. "And Ryan just wouldn't make it happen!" The room laughed, the blame subtly placed on Ryan for the delayed meeting. Ryan mock-protested, feigning innocence with a dramatic hand gesture.

Ryan responded with a playful eye-roll and a sarcastic retort. "Well excuse me," he said mockingly, "I didn't want my little sister exposed to such 'filth'" at an early age. The room chuckled at the exchange between friends, the jab adding a lighter tone to the serious atmosphere.

Hugh retorted, a hint of sass in his voice. "Mate, you think I'm the filthy one? Think again." The room chuckled, enjoying the friendly banter between Hugh and Ryan. Even you couldn't help but smile at the playful back and forth.

Louis, the lie detector operator, confirmed the truth of Hugh's response with a nod. "Truthful," he stated, his tone professional yet casual, adding another affirmation to the machine's verdict. The room chuckled again, the lie detector's accurate assessment further fueling the banter and lighthearted mood.

You fan yourself dramatically, a playful smile on your face. "It's getting hot in here," you teased, adding a touch of levity to the room. The room chuckled, the cheeky remark causing Hugh to raise an eyebrow and Ryan to roll his eyes, playing along with the theatrics.

Ryan made a show of gagging, an exaggerated expression of disgust on his face. "Oh my God," he exclaimed, "I'm in my personal hell." He then turned to the camera, addressing the audience directly with a sarcastic remark. "Enjoying this, Vanity Fair?"

You took the hot seat, the wires of the lie detector secured properly and the machine calibrated. Both Hugh and Ryan sat across from you, their eyes fixed on you as they prepared to take turns asking the questions.

“Just to start this off, (y/n), you’re the younger sister of famous actor, Ryan Reynolds.” You nodded, confirming the statement. "Yes, that's correct," you acknowledged, your tone matter-of-fact. The lie detector's sensors were already measuring your body's response, capturing even the subtlest reactions.

“You recently released your album Short n’ Sweet. How many copies did you pawn off to the homeless shelter?” You chuckled at Ryan's sarcastic question, his playful jab adding a touch of humor to the serious atmosphere. "Oh, you know," you responded sarcastically, "I just made sure every homeless person in the city had a copy." The room laughed, caught off guard by the audacity of the question and your witty response.

Ryan continued with the banter, teasing you with reference to your lyrics. "Do you think you really leave quite an impression?" he questioned, a smirk on his face as he alluded to certain lines in your songs. The room chuckled, amused by the ribbing and the unexpected callback to your own lyrics.

You responded with a coy shrug and a flirty grin, exuding confidence in your response. "I do," you affirmed, your words laced with a hint of playfulness. The room chuckled at your unapologetic response, the interaction adding a lighthearted moment to the otherwise serious lie detector test.

Louis, the lie detector operator, confirmed the truth of your response with a small nod. "Truthful," he stated, the machine's sensors recording your body's reaction to the question. The room chuckled at the affirmation, the lie detector's verdict adding a layer of credibility to your confident response.

Hugh's question shifted the tone of conversation, moving on from the playful banter to something more relevant to your career. "You starred in both Deadpool and Wolverine, and there are rumors your character will be back for further installments of the Marvel Universe. Is this true?" he asked, his question carrying a hint of curiosity. The room quieted, anticipating your response and the verdict of the lie detector.

You widened your eyes, attempting to feign ignorance, as you answered, "No, I don't know of any future projects right now." The room held its breath, the tension palpable as the lie detector's sensors recorded your response. If the question was true, the machine would detect any deception in your speech.

Louis, the lie detector operator, looked up from the screen, his gaze steady as he announced the result. "Deceptive," he affirmed, his professional tone adding a gravity to the outcome. The room remained quiet, processing the unexpected result and bracing for the reactions of Hugh and Ryan.

Ryan, clearly enjoying the situation, chimed in with a smirk on his face. "You heard it here first," he joked, "Deadpool's other best friend, Sabrina will be retiring. Maybe in a witchy fashion?" The room chuckled at the playful banter and Ryan's witty response, the light moment providing a reprieve from the serious atmosphere.

You rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance at Ryan's comment. "You're going to get me fired before I even get a chance," you retorted, the room laughing at your sarcastic reply. The lie detector's sensors continued to measure your reactions, monitoring your body language for any indication of dishonesty.

Ryan continued with his questions, his smirk growing wider as he continued to tease you. "Now, in your song 'Espresso,' you state, 'Too bad your ex couldn't do it for you.' Are you in fact referring to someone's divorced wife?" He playfully nodded towards Hugh, adding a layer of mischief to his question. The room chuckled, the tension mounting as they waited for your response and the lie detector's verdict.

Your cheeks flushed pink and your mouth gaped open as you quickly tried to defend yourself. "No! That's... it's just a song. Come on," you protested, your voice just a bit higher pitched. The room chuckled at your flustered response, the lie detector's sensors noting any changes in your body language and voice.

Louis, the lie detector operator, looked up from the machine and announced the result. "Deceptive," he stated, confirming the machine's assessment of your response. The room chuckled at the unexpected outcome, the lie detector's verdict adding fuel to the playful questioning.

Hugh chuckled, clearly amused by the unexpected turn of events. "Looks like the machine disagrees with you, love." His smile grew wider as he teased you, enjoying the lighthearted banter and the surprising results of the lie detector test.

The room chuckled at Hugh's comment, the playful tone adding a sense of mischief to the atmosphere. Ryan, not one to miss an opportunity, chimed in with a smirk. "Oh, it's definitely disagreeing with you," he quipped, clearly relishing in the unexpected revelation.

Ryan chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered state, but he obliged, moving on to the next question. "Alright, alright," he said, still grinning. "Next question." Hugh lets out a chuckle, he continues with his next question, tilting his head as he gazes at you.

Hugh shifted his gaze towards you, his head tilted slightly as he posed the question, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Alright, then," he began, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Have you ever secretly taken a picture of me when I wasn't looking?" The room went quiet, all attention focused on your response and the lie detector's verdict.

You smirk, “maybe.”

The room waited in anticipation as the lie detector operator, Louis, looked up from the machine. "Deceptive." He stated, the verdict adding a new twist to the game. The room chuckled again, the unexpected results of the test creating a sense of unpredictability and entertainment.

Hugh playfully pointed a finger at you, his tone light and teasing. "You should know better than to lie on this thing!" he scolded, a smirk on his face. "Go on, confess," he prompted, clearly enjoying the moment. The room chuckled at Hugh's remark, the light-hearted exchange adding a touch of humor to the ongoing game.

“Okay yeah, I have a few 100 photos of you I’ve taken without your knowledge.” The room erupted in laughter, the unexpected revelation adding a comical twist to the situation. Hugh raised an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and amusement on his face, while Ryan chuckled, clearly finding the moment humorous.

Ryan chuckled, clearly intrigued. "Ohh, can I see?" he asked, a playful gleam in his eye. Your quick response of "no" only fueled his curiosity, and the room chuckled at the playful exchange. Hugh smirked, clearly entertained by the situation, while Ryan persisted in his request.

Ryan's question was direct, "Why not? Are they x-rated? Wolverine after dark?" he inquired, a hint of mischief in his tone. The room chuckled at the unexpected implication, the question adding a layer of humor to the lighthearted moment. You quickly shook your head, denying the accusation, while Hugh chuckled, clearly amused by the banter.

You explained your reasoning, "No! I'm just a private person. I don't need you snooping in my phone," you responded with a firm tone, while the room chuckled at your honest response. Ryan huffed in mock disappointment, clearly teasing you, while Hugh chuckled, enjoying the lighthearted banter.

The room erupted in laughter once again as Louis, the lie detector operator, announced the result. "Deceptive," he stated, his professional tone contrasted with the playful atmosphere. Hugh smirked, clearly enjoying the unexpected outcome as Ryan chuckled, thoroughly entertained by the ongoing game.

You laughed, covering your face in mock embarrassment, and looked at the camera, addressing your statement to the audience. "The Tumblr girls know what I'm talking about," you joked, referencing an inside joke or reference known to his fanbase. The room chuckled at your remark, appreciating the playful banter and the acknowledgment of his dedicated followers.

Hugh smiled, enjoying the moment, and Ryan chuckled, clearly entertained by the playful interaction. The lie detector's sensors continued to monitor your reaction, capturing every detail for the test. The camera remained focused on you, capturing the light-hearted exchange for the Vanity Fair audience.

Ryan's question broke the laughter with a more personal query. He shifted his attention towards you and asked, "Would you say you're your mom's favorite?" The room quieted down, the lighthearted banter giving way to a slightly more serious tone as they waited for your response. The lie detector's sensors prepared to capture any change in your body language or voice.

You smiled, a sense of confidence in your voice as you affirmed, "Oh, definitely." The room chuckled lightly, appreciating your self-assurance, while Hugh and Ryan exchanged glances, intrigued by your unabashed response. The lie detector continued to monitor your body's response, silently recording your confidence.

Louis, the lie detector operator, once again confirmed the truth of your response. "Truthful," he stated, his professional tone adding a sense of authority to the verdict. Hugh laughed, clearly enjoying your confidence, while Ryan smirked.

Ryan chuckled as he disagreed with your answer, his playful banter continuing. "Love the confidence, but you're not," he stated, a smirk on his face, clearly enjoying the exchange. The room chuckled along with Ryan, appreciating the friendly banter, while you remained steadfast in your claim. The lie detector continued to monitor your body's response, capturing every nuance of your interaction.

You teased back confidently, "I'm bringing Hugh Jackman home for Christmas, of course I'm her favorite.” The room burst into laughter at your bold statement, the lighthearted banter adding a touch of humor to the moment. Hugh chuckled at your remark, enjoying the playful exchange, while Ryan shook his head, amused by your self-assured claim. The lie detector buzzed as it registered your response.

Louis, the lie detector operator, confirmed the truth of your statement with a simple statement. "Truthful," he announced, the machine's sensors having detected no signs of deceit in your voice or body language. The room chuckled at the result, clearly entertained by the game, while Hugh and Ryan exchanged grins, amused by your unwavering confidence.

The topic shifted to a classic debate in the Marvel fandom, "Now, comparing superhero’s. Are the MCU movies better than the men movies?" The room waited in anticipation, knowing that this was a question with divided opinions. Hugh chuckled, clearly enjoying the debate starter, while Ryan smirked, already knowing your stance on the matter. The lie detector's sensors monitored your response, ready to reveal any unconscious bias in your answer.

You smiled at the camera, fully embracing your role as a Marvel ambassador. "They are now. Go see Deadpool and Wolverine in your theaters when it releases," you stated confidently. The room chuckled at your plug for the upcoming film, Hugh and Ryan sharing amused glances. The lie detector's sensors noted your enthusiastic response, the machine confirming your truthfulness while capturing your confident endorsement for the movie.

Louis, the lie detector operator, once again confirmed the truth of your response, his professional tone adding authority to the verdict. "Truthful," he stated, the machine's sensors having detected no signs of deception in your statement. The room chuckled at the result, clearly entertained by the ongoing game, while Hugh and Ryan exchanged grins, appreciating your unwavering truthfulness.

The Vanity Fair staff wrapped up the photo shoot session, signaling the end of the promotional event. You were finally free to leave, and you exhaled a sigh of relief. Hugh and Ryan were talking to the staff, while you stood nearby, waiting for your cue to leave. The crew began to pack up the lie detector equipment, preparing to wrap up the day's work.

A member of the Vanity Fair staff approached you, sporting a sheepish smile. He greeted you timidly, "Hi, sorry. I'm such a big fan. I had to say hello." The staff member's shy demeanor betrayed his excitement at meeting you, his fanboy enthusiasm evident. You smiled warmly at his greeting, appreciating his kind words despite his obvious fangirling.

You reassured him with a kind smile, "No need to be sorry. It's nice to meet you." The staff member beamed at your friendly response, his nervousness gradually fading away. He fidgeted slightly, clearly trying to control his excitement, but was clearly overjoyed to have a chance to meet you.

The staff member continued to shower you with compliments, his cheeks flushing slightly as he spoke. "You're so funny, and pretty," he mumbled, his fanboy admiration clear. The comment tugged at your heartstrings, and you couldn’t help but smile at his sweet words.

Hugh, who had been in conversation with the staff, turned his attention towards you and the crew member. He observed the interaction from a short distance, his eyes narrowing slightly as he saw the staff member complimenting you. Despite your apparent disinterest, Hugh couldn't help the pang of jealousy that crept into his heart. He turned back to his conversation, discreetly glancing over his shoulder every now and then, monitoring the interaction between you and the staff member.

You chuckled as you watched the flustered fan walk away, clearly smitten after meeting you and getting your autograph on his phone case. Hugh, who had watched the whole interaction, walked over to you, his expression a mix of curiosity and jealousy. He approached you, trying to hide his feelings but failing slightly.

Hugh cleared his throat, "Making friends over here, are we?" he asked casually, a hint of sarcasm lacing his tone. He tried to keep his emotions in check, but his slight possessive nature was evident in his words.

You wrap your arms around him, “I’m known to be friendly.” Hugh melted into your embrace, his jealousy fading slightly as he felt the warmth of your arms around him. He wrapped his own arms around you, drawing you closer to him as he responded, "Indeed, quite the social butterfly." Despite his earlier jealousy, he couldn’t help but find comfort in your touch.

You broke the silence with a simple question, "Dinner?" You casually suggested, your fingers intertwined with his as you both began to make your way out of the building. Hugh smiled at you, feeling incredibly fortunate to have you in his life. He nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of love and awe.

💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋

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[xoxosimp]

Perfect Timing

POV: You were right not to trust Bucky with your heart. 

Part two of Wrong Person, Right Time

Warnings: fluff, a wee bit of angst, Steve in a dress shirt is a warning,mediocre writing, not beta’d , barely proofread

I listened to “ It’s gonna be me” by *NSYNC and “El Farsante (Remix)” by Ozuna and Romeo Santos while writing this. 

~~~~~

Trying to discreetly look into the crowd proved to be a challenge. You needed to engage with the panelists and look as neutral as possible with the camera rolling. If only the crowd could part like the Red Sea so you could find him. 

You were hosting a panel at a university discussing college access among second generation immigrants and low income students. You invited multiple officials from the university’s admissions department and the leadership behind multiple college access partnerships. It was an honor to host the panel, considering you were so young. 

You invited Bucky when the panel was approved. You darted your eyes every so often in the sea of students and faculty. But you didn’t see him. Not his beautiful blue eyes. Not his messy brunette hair. 

Once the panel was over, you shook numerous people’s hands with half hearted thank yous. As people were leaving the venue, you still couldn't find Bucky. 

You reached to grab your phone from your purse, however in the corner of your eyes you see a speck of red. 

You look up and see Steve Rogers holding a beautiful bouquet of roses. He is dressed to the nines, in a white dress shirt that’s folded up to his elbows. You try, tried not to linger on how his dress pants hug his thighs. His hair is combed back and he wore a smile. 

Your eyes widened, “ Steve! What are you- What are you doing here?” Your eyes darted behind him, to see if Bucky was coming from parking the car. 

“ Well hello to you too,” he greeted. “ How could I miss your panel?”. You were so clouded with “Is Bucky here” and “ Is he mad at me”, that you forgot you invited Steve. 

“ When did you get here? I didn't see you at all.”

“Well I was a little late because I needed to get the flowers,” he admitted sheepishly, “ I got a terrible seat in the back.”

You took the flowers, “ This is so sweet, Steve. Thank you.”

A silence filled the air, your mind buzzing with the question you so desperately wanted to ask him.

“ Bucky isn't here.”

You sighed, “ Figures, I think he’s mad at me.” Steve’s face prompts you to continue. “ I don’t wanna talk about it.” It’s completely valid that he was upset with you, but before all of that, he is your best friend. He supported you no matter what in all things you were passionate. Now that he’s mad at you, he can't be bothered?

“ Is Lilian here?” you asked. 

“ We broke up.”

“Oh I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t,” he put his hands in his pockets. “ It was for the better.”

Maybe Steve really does need someone that can soothe him, you remembered what Bucky said. It was a special type of affliction to be ready to love and give your heart to someone who was undeserving of it. Steve needed someone to ignite his flame, not snuff it out. 

And you needed someone that would weld the pieces of your glass heart back together. 

You leaned and gave Steve a kiss on the cheek. “ You being here means everything to me, Steve.”

Steve smiled, “ How could I not be here to support you, my beautiful nerd?” 

A grumble of your stomach pulled a chuckle out of Steve. “ Can I buy you dinner?”

“Only if dinner consists of fries,” you said.

“Well you’re too dolled up for McDonald’s , so how about Magarita’s so you can get churrasco?”

“Sounds perfect.”

If you valued anything, it was simplicity. If Bucky was the careless player that toyed with your heart, then maybe Steve was your knight who protected it. Simple as that.

~~~~~

A/N : Plottwist? Plottwist.

For the people who asked to be tagged: @blackhawkfanatic

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[sepublic]

What’s further absurd about Camila being more of a mom to Hunter than Luz in fanon is that. Camila and Hunter have two(2) solo interactions across the entire show and it’s Hunter kneeling to Camila to say thanks and her telling him not to do that, and then her pulling him out of the water. Thats it, the scenes transition to Hunter and Gus talking or the group worrying about Hunter. But then we see Camila interact with Luz at the end of the episode, in fact she has MULTIPLE interactions with Luz that episode and in general!!!

Meanwhile Darius is right there, he was mean to Hunter once, but he made up for it in the same episode by validating Hunter, looking out for him, giving him a way to talk to his new friends! He worries about Hunter in Hollow Mind. When the kids reunite with their parents, Hunter has nobody until Darius shows up.

And if y’all can forgive Eda for being immature with King a few times in S1, you can do the same for Darius. If you can forgive Alador’s abuse and neglect towards his kids by embracing their forgiveness, Darius is nothing. Darius is basically the only adult to actually talk to Hunter directly besides you know who and Eda, but that was twice and she was making fun of him the first time. Raine also showed concern but I barely see that dynamic.

It’s insane because it’s not enough that Hunter needs love from an adult for these people, they need it to be Camila’s love specifically!!! Despite Luz’s entire arc and the show in general being kicked off from Luz feeling like her mother didn’t love her enough by sending her to that reality check camp. Oh, Hunter needs someone kind for him because of trauma? Luz also has trauma, S3 has her go on a thinly-veiled suicidal rant.

Istfg I see Camila and Hunter more than I see Camila and Amity, and at least Amity is basically her daughter in law, plus it’s Amity getting away from her two abusive white parents. Meanwhile people denying Darius are demonizing him for being a black man who was mean once.

He’s not even Luz’s brother, and I’m sure part of the insistence of Camila as Hunter’s mom is an extension of that; Except the ‘Siblings’ dynamic between Luz and Hunter is inaccurate and exaggerated, esp in favor of Luz and King or Vee! We see so much fanart and fanfic of Camila just hanging out with Hunter even casually without angst, but not her own blood daughter.

Like yeah maybe it’s fun to explore the two-month period in the human realm and how Camila was the only adult these kids had; But people continue to hype her up as Hunter’s mom in settings outside of that timeframe!!! We see Luz come out to her mom and everything, we have her being raised by her mother! And Camila taking care of Hunter would not suck so hard if Luz wasn’t completely overshadowed, if Hunter wasn’t everywhere and inserted into everything! With fans insisting Hunter’s a Noceda and NEEDS to be in group photos like that, insisting on joint custody as if Luz and Camila don’t have that much of a relationship with Hunter to begin with and Darius is sufficient, crying about how he deserved more in the finale! Boohoo.

I’m gonna be real here, Hunter fans are the weakest link in this fandom despite being the most prevalent at this rate. They’ll rather make up stuff for him to talk about than acknowledge other characters, or even take other characters’ moments to give to him; Like remember when Luz had a nightmare sequence where she was dressed in Belos’ clothes and felt the weight of everyone’s accusations, and then some fanartist made a piece of that happening to Hunter instead??? I have to see Camila hugging Hunter while he wields String Bean, who is Luz’s Palisman when Waffles is right there without a confirmed creation date, so they could’ve easily been shortly after the finale!!!

It is SUCH an admission of envy and unconscious racism that y’all need to take traits and moments that belong to other characters and give it to your white boy to enjoy them, instead of enjoying these characteristics with the characters they actually belong to! And don’t make this about you and how you personally aren’t consciously racist or whatever, because this is about a group trend and PoC should not have to bear the burden of screening every individual of guilt. And yeah it is racist, hell it’s basically the Mammy archetype where a WoC is expected to prioritize her white charge over her own child.

And don’t even try to argue you’re innocent because you’re a PoC, PoC are just as capable of white favoritism and I speak from experience! For chrissakes everyone we’re snappy about this because being gentle about it has never worked for PoC. If you feel upset by this than actually do something about it and learn instead of wallowing in self pity or even denying it.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

If it is exposed that surrogates were used - still not convinced either way- how do you think M and H will spin this? Also, the BRF? Maybe for both parties if there were surrogates, it best the secret be kept because the level of outrage from the public would be beyond insane. However, I think whoever breaks the news first, does have a better chance of controlling narrative.

It's not going to make sense, but Harry and Meghan will say they had no choice, the big bad BRF made her because of antiquated "heir and spare" rules and maybe throw the race card in for good measure ("we had to have our own children because Harry's family needed the optics even though we told them we were happy to adopt instead"). If they're still together, that is.

If they're divorced, then Harry and Meghan will blame each other. Harry will say he had no idea because Meghan never talked to him or let him accompany her to her doctor appointments (which would validate some tea from their Australia trip). (This would also contradict the stories in Spare but that's a separate issue.) Meghan will say Harry forced her to lie because he was so desperate to be a father and she was too scared of his anger/temper to say no.

The BRF will claim that they had no idea because Harry and Meghan did everything themselves. There's enough evidence that they have plausible deniability - admissions in Spare of not communicating updates, the second pregnancy happening in the US, The Queen's doctors not signing the birth announcement.

Where the BRF gets into trouble is over how complicit they are. If Harry and Meghan have hard, solid proof showing that the BRF was fully aware - like emails or letters from Charles or Jason Knauf or Edward Young specifically discussing it - then Charles's goose is cooked. There's a lot of speculation that this is the case: someone at Buckingham Palace and/or Clarence House knows there was a surrogacy, and if this is the case, then it's mutually-assured destruction so it's in everyone's favor to keep it a secret: the Sussexes have their children in the line of succession and they get to use titles for the children and Charles doesn't get crucified by the public for tampering with the line of succession.

(William might see some blowback but ultimately he's safe from any fallout because he acted pretty quickly to get the Sussexes away from Kensington Palace and his staff. That it was announced in October/November 2018 the Sussexes were going out on their own means William was working on it since before the wedding, most likely.)

As for who announces, I don't think it's a case of "he who announces first controls the narrative." For me, it's a case of "he who holds the names controls the narrative." In other words, the "team" who has the proof naming someone who knows about the surrogate(s) and publishes it is the one who controls the narrative.

So if Meghan and Harry have proof naming someone in the BRF as having knowledge of any surrogate(s), then they control the narrative. But if they don't, then it's in the BRF's favor because the BRF doesn't have anything to lose. They have enough plausible deniability (plus Meghan and Harry being known liars) to keep the hot seat exclusively on the Sussexes. And I think that's where we are - if there are palace names named, they aren't senior enough and can easily be thrown under the bus but revealing surrogacy hurts Harry and that's why the BRF is keeping the secret.

I suspect that under King Charles, the BRF will keep the secret as long as Harry remains married to Meghan and/or as long as they maintain this detente in Sussex-BRF relations. If the Sussexes launch new attacks on the BRF (to include further Nigeria-like problems where they acted as royals without authorization) or if Harry leaves Meghan, then I can see the BRF nuclearizing them/her once and for all by revealing surrogate(s). (I feel like King William wouldn't hide it, but he also wouldn't reveal it either.)

On the flip side, I see Meghan keeping the secret as long as it remains more profitable for her to do so. So she will keep it until it's more advantageous to talk about it post-divorce in a memoir or revenge tour. And I suspect Meghan may try to use this for leverage in a divorce settlement to get more money.

All allegedly, of course. After all, surrogacy is only just a rumor.