#shadowlands delayed

[necatormundi]

messmer's combo timing is sooo annoying like i get why your mother abandoned you now

[trulyumai]

Looking Past the Fire

Paring: Messmer x Reader

Synopsis: Between the shadow lands, laid Messmer. And between that? His darling wife.

Warnings: Talk of Death

A/N: Ive officially began the DLC and I am WASHED. Also this big nosed fella has been taking over my mind please send help. (I love it)

Enjoy!

For whom could ever love him as much as his wife once did? 

She would be there, to carry his heavy soul, kiss the bruised skin and wipe away the rotting blood. 

His wife was ever so patient; wiping at his dirtied frame carefully, cautiously. Like he was someone who deserved it, needed it. He got used to such loving touches, it was dangerous. His family scoffed behind his back- mumbled about his newfound weakness. But between his own blood was a wall of fire, and between that was her. 

In truth, he craved coming back home, to her, and her adoring frame and sappy expressions. 

He would always call out to her. 

“My love?” His voice was so soft, much more than one would ever guess a man like him would- could carry. 

A man of death and flame. 

“Over here, darling!” And he would see the back of her head, peeking up from the windowsill that laid just in front of their kitchen. 

She would always be in the flower filled garden, tending to each plant with care until her fingers were overtaken with blackened dirt.

She’d lift herself high then, peek over at him with blinking lashes. A serene expression always to be seen when gazing upon the red haired man. 

Messmer without thought would walk forth, to her, and her sun kissed cheeks. 

As if in a daze the man wouldn’t dare avert his eyes; for the goddess in front of him was enough to hold the attention of such a man of power. 

His head ducked under the wooden back door. His back would crack loudly almost every time, and sometimes a groan of protest would leave the pale man’s lips. 

And he would reachout, gently coaxing the woman to him once more, he wanted- needed to feel her soft skin against his rough and war torn body. 

She’d listen of course, and would press her frame to his without further delay. 

Messmer would allow his arms to wrap around her, with his nose digging into her neck to smell the sweet scent of sweat sticking to her damp skin. 

“Husband,” she giggled, hearing his sighs of contentment. 

“I’ve missed you, has the trip fared well?” 

The wind picked up, the giant yellowing trees swayed with the breeze and Messmer could no longer subdue his mind to the stress it was in mere moments ago. 

Right before he placed himself in his wife’s presence, the worries of the palace laid upon his shoulders. 

His command, his power, his reign- 

“Husband?” 

How would she react to the bodies littering the field, the broken families, the hierarchy?

Her fingertips grazed his cheek.

“Hm? Oh, yes, the trip was easy, my wife,” 

The knight picked a fallen leaf that had laid upon her hair carelessly. 

“I’ve established safe perimeters. None shall lay harm to the south for quite some time.” 

She smiled. 

“Of course you did, my strong Knight. For who could be more of a protector than you?”

Bile reached up to the man's throat, it burned his insides with spite and regret. 

His wife was ill informed, she hadn't heard of the burning castle walls- with its soldiers laying crumpled and burnt in his wake. 

In fact, he hadn’t been a knight for the order in many moons, his siege had taken over much of the shadowlands, in which he was close to winning.

For none could stand the fiery ambition held between his sword and gaze 

He was a protector yes, but only for her. 

Messmer let out a deep laugh, it was short and muffled by his lips. 

The knight leaned down and began to trail kisses down his wifes temple, to her jaw, then finally, her lips. 

With a tilt to the head their mouths met, he placed a pale hand on the back of her head, pushing her to meet his lips with more strength. 

Nipping lightly the girl's hands fisted upon his armor, lightly trying to push herself away from the man- most likely for air. 

He complied, and smiled as she let out a gasp for air with pink cheeks and lidded eyes. 

Taking his thumb he brushed it upon her chin, clearing up the saliva that had dribbled down. 

She leaned into his palm, and Messmer once more felt the bite of regret nip at the edges of his mind. 

“Are you staying the night?” Her voice, barely above the howling wind, brought him back. 

Messmer hummed, his hand found the back of her waist. 

“I have dinner going, i'll make your place at the table.”

He only nodded his head as she padded off, not taking his eyes off the darkened clouds approaching their vicinity. 

From the corner of his eye, Messmer eyed the rising smoke. 

The south let out a plethora of darkened fumes, the village there laid in smoldering, blackened ash. 

Of course the south laid safe and ill of enemies; for he had cleared its population down to nothing. 

The land may never return to its original state with its burnt hills and mountains.

“It's ready, my love!” 

Messmer turned back, meeting the gaze of his lover by the doorframe. 

Little drops of rain plopped onto his loosened hair, no longer did light shine through the gray skies, but muffled streams of sun. 

He turned his back to the village, the smoke and bodies. 

For a more important matter was at hand now; the happiness of his wife.

[tumbleweed-run]

Want

(18+, Explicit) Kinktober 2023 Day 7: virginity

“There you are, I was wondering if you’d changed your mind,” Gale tried to make sound light, a little joke between the two of you but you could hear the undercurrent of tension in his words. 

“I’m sorry,” you said earnestly, letting your hand rest on his shoulder as you sat. “I got caught up asking Wyll something.”

That was a lie, and one you felt a little guilty telling him, but the real reason you were delayed was a bit more embarrassing. You’d been sitting by the fire going over conversations in your head. Or rather, how to have a very specific conversation. One you still weren’t exactly sure how to approach. 

The truth of the matter was, physically you were a virgin. Even though you’d had mind-blowing, life-changing, astral sex with Gale just before fighting Ketheric your body was still very much the virgin it had been before that night. 

Gale, of course, didn’t know that fact. It wasn’t something you advertised to potential suitors. 

It wasn’t that you were some prudish untouchable. You’d had your fair share of odd groping as a teen (and adult) and were intimately familiar with your own body. You’d just never had actual sex using your body. 

That was an odd distinction to have to make.

You weren’t ashamed of it, it was just something that didn’t happen. Some people never had the opportunity to try certain foods or go certain places, you’d never had the opportunity to have sex. Or rather, you had the chance a few times, but the partners were decidedly less than ideal. 

You realized that keeping this fact from Gale was becoming increasingly like keeping a secret. You needed to tell him, and you needed to do it before he decided to take advantage of the relative quiet of the journey from the Shadowlands to Baldur’s Gate. 

“You seem quiet,” Gale prodded, bumping his shoulder into yours. 

“A lot on my mind,” you admitted vaguely. You bumped your shoulder into his but stayed there, leaning into his warmth. 

Gale hummed in agreement. “It’s odd this calm before the proverbial storm.” 

You felt him press a kiss into your hair. 

“I need to tell you something, but you can’t make a big deal about it,” you said eventually after allowing yourself to sink into the comfort of the moment. 

You felt Gale’s body stiffen, no doubt anticipating the worst kind of confession. Though at this point you weren’t sure what Gale would consider the the worst.

“Alright, I’m intrigued,” He said very neutrally. 

You took a deep breath and sat up right, giving yourself the space for this. “Just to be clear, that night, our bodies weren’t actually… involved.” You were hopeful maybe you were wrong and you’d just missed all the awkwardness because you’re mind was literally somewhere else. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Gale’s head cock to the side. “Ah no, they weren’t,” he agreed, unknowingly dashing your hopes, “it looks a bit strange to an outsider, I admit, but alas our corporeal selves were exactly where we left them.”

“Why?” He tacked on after a pause. 

“Well, that would mean that I’m still technically a virgin.” You made your admission rather quickly, words bumping into one another as you spat it out, hoping to get this odd conversation out of the way. 

Gale was unusually quiet and when you finally turned your head to look at him you saw about a thousand emotions cross his face. 

“You’re a…” he trailed off.

You waited.

“Virgin?” his voice had risen almost comically. 

“Yes,” you confirmed.

“But you’re-”

“Yes, I know how old I am,” you interrupted rolling your eyes at him. 

“You mean you’ve never…?” Another incomplete sentence from your usually verbose wizard. 

“That would be what that means, yes,” you confirmed… again. 

You sighed and turned your body so you could look at Gale easily. “It’s not that I’m some innocent. I’ve had the odd kissing session in a dark room, its just never gone any farther. Not to mention I’m concerningly familiar with my own hand and also that one odd pillow in my…”

You trailed off as you watched Gale’s eyes darken. He cleared his throat and shifted. Idly you wondered which of those revelations had affected him so.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He sounded almost hurt. 

“It never came up,” you admitted, “first, you were at risk of blowing us all up and then we ended up having sex astrally. I would have told you if we’d been… physically involved,” you assured him, fighting with yourself as to how exactly word things. 

Gale seemed to absorb this information with acceptance. “Well I guess that means my plans for tonight are off the table.”

“What? Why?” You sounded genuinely alarmed, surprising even yourself. 

Gale smiled a small, exasperated thing. “My love, I can’t have you bedded properly for the first time in some wood in the middle of nowhere.”

“You absolutely can,” you insisted.

He chuckled and took your hand. Normally you would have seen a similar move as patronizing but there was nothing but love and adoration shining from Gale’s eyes. “We can be together astrally, again.”

“No,” you huffed pulling your hand away, growing frustrated. This wasn’t why you’d told him. “I want you,” you insisted, “I want you, for real. Here.”

Gale shook his head again, “but you deserve-”

“Gale,” you moved up onto your knees so you could hold his face between your hands, “this is about what I want. And what I want is your actual physical cock inside of me, here in this clearing. Tonight, preferably.”

Whatever Gale had been expecting, that confession wasn’t it. His mouth dropped open. 

“Are you sure?” He asked eventually. 

You nodded, vigorously, “yes.”

“Then I will give you what you want.”

You leaned forward and kissed him. Gale gathered an arm around your waist and laid backward, pulling you with him. You laid across his chest, eagerly allowing yourself to get lost in kissing him. 

You shifted, slotting your body between his legs. Gale groaned when your thighs brushed against his cock, already half-hard. Taking advantage, you pressed your tongue between his lips. His hands slid down your back to your ass, cupping it he pulled you up and closer. 

“How many young lads did you lead into dark corners, only to leave them with their hopes dashed?” Gale teased when you two finally separated for air. 

You laughed. “I never said I left them unfulfilled.”

Gale shook his head with an amused smile. “I assure you every lad who left without bedding you was unfulfilled in some regard.”

“I think,” you smoothed a hand against his chest, “you think too highly of me.”

“Not possible,” Gale reassured. His expression changed as you watched, from playful to something more sincere. 

“What have you done with others?” He asked all of a sudden. 

Now, you felt you might be a little offended. “Gale, I wasn’t saying that-”

“No, no,” he shook his head, “I don’t care if you’ve had a thousand cocks in your mouth. Confused, perhaps, but I want to know specifically what has been done to you that hasn’t come from your own hand… or pillow I suppose.”

“Oh,” you felt a little sheepish now.

With out warning his hands slid to your thighs and he lifted you, pulling your legs apart, forcing you to straddle him. You could feel his cock pressing against your core. You fought down the urge to grind against it. 

“Has anyone ever made you come with their mouth?” Gale asked then.

You shook your head, a warmth crawling down your neck at the thought. 

“Their fingers?” He continued. 

Again, you shook your head. “Twice I've had someone’s hand down my pants,” you admitted, “but it was awkward and they never really did much.”

“Maybe you’re lucky,” Gale mused, “boys tend not to think beyond their own needs.”

“And men are any different?” You challenged. 

Gale’s eyes darkened as he looked at you now. “Not all, but this one, yes. Your needs are mine.” He rolled his hips up then, grinding his cock against you. 

“Oh,” the sound felt like it was punched out of you. Happily, you rocked your hips back down against him. 

Gale’s hands went to your hips, holding you from doing anything further. You tried to roll them again and frowned when he wouldn’t let you. 

“I promise I will pay as much attention to your pretty cunt as you can stand,” he started, “but I need you to promise you’ll stop me if anything makes you uncomfortable.”

There was an edge to his final words, and you knew anything less than an agreement that he’d leave you untouched. 

“I promise,” you repeated. 

“Good girl,” He rewarded, his words shooting straight to your core. You absolutely did not look at him in an attempt to hide that knowledge from him. His chuckle let you know it had been unsuccessful. 

He released your hips and you ground down on him once more. 

In a testament to Gale’s self-control, or perhaps his determination, his hands moved to the ties of your trousers. When he’d finished opening them, he rolled you both so he was above you. He sat back on his legs and slid backward before working to shimmy your bottoms off before discarding them in a pile nearby.

He gently pushed your legs and you laid back, allowing him to bend your knees. He gently pushed at them so they dropped to the side. You shivered both from the complete exposure of the position he’d put you in and also from missing his warmth on you. 

“Fingers or mouth?” Gale asked, hands sliding down your thighs, ever closer to where you truly wanted them. 

“I believe I said cock,” you retorted. 

A light pinch was delivered to your thigh and you jumped, startled but not actually in pain. “Soon,” Gale promised, “for now, though, those are your options.”

“Mouth,” you answered with almost no hesitation.

Above you, Gale smiled, apparently pleased with your answer. “Do you want anything? A pillow,” he asked rather than doing what you’d asked for. 

“I want,” you answered a bit snappier than you’d meant, “for you to touch me.”

“Some day, I will have you without risk of interruption.” Gale wasn’t really talking to you it seemed. Still, you wondered what he meant by that. You hoped something wicked. 

All thoughts left your mind when you felt his fingers spread you open even further. You were about to remind him you’d said mouth, unable to resist the urge to push against whatever side of him you were seeing, when you felt his breath hot against you. That urge fled, just as quickly as your thoughts. 

You cried out when he swiped his tongue between your folds. Quickly you pulled your arm across your mouth, aware the camp wasn’t too far off. Gale didn’t seem at all concerned though as he began tracing maddening paths with the tip of his tongue. 

Somehow he was touching you where you wanted and yet seeming to avoid it all together. A growl ripped out of you in frustration and you tried to slide down closer to his mouth. An arm flew across your hips quickly, preventing you from moving anywhere. You were about to say something, beg even, when his tongue finally found your clit. You cried out, free hand threading itself in Gale’s hair. If you couldn’t move closer to him, you could at least pin him to you. He didn’t seem too bothered by this thought, tracing his tongue down you again, this time pressing it inside of you. 

“Shit,” you cursed hips ineffectively trying to grind down again. 

Gale, in some act of benevolence or maybe because he was enjoying your reactions, move his arm from across your hips. He instead pushed his hand under your ass forcing you to tilt your hips up towards him. He moved his attention back to your clit. You felt the walls of your pussy begin pulsing around nothing and you whimpered.

“Fingers,” you gasped, pulling your arm from your face. 

Gale either didn’t hear you or was ignoring you. A few more seconds of attention to your clit and then his teeth gently nipped against it. 

“Fuck,” you cried out as your orgasm hit, once again pulling Gale against you. You couldn’t help but shamelessly grind against his face as you came. 

He stayed there, tongue licking broad stripes up and down your center until you stilled. Only then did he gently disentangle your hands from his hair and sit up.

He knelt between your still-spread legs, a hand gently cupping your cunt. He was watching you closely, pleased with whatever he saw he gently began kneading against you. 

“Will you fuck me now?” You asked unable to help the way your hips chase up at the contact. 

He shook his head. Briefly, you were mesmerized by the way his beard, glistening with your wetness, reflected the light. 

“Why not?” You whined, which wasn’t exactly how you’d meant to say that. 

Gale chuckled before leaning over you to press a kiss on your lips. You could smell yourself on him, taste it even when he pulled away. Far from being turned off by that fact you found yourself wanting to kiss him again. 

“Fingers, first,” he said and demonstratively slipped a finger beneath your folds to press against your entrance. 

He easily pressed the finger into you, finding no resistance when he did. Gently he began pressing it in and out, every time he ground the heel of his palm against your clit until your hips were rolling with his movement. 

His eyes never left your face when he began pressing a second finger into you. You nodded, trying to pull them deeper but he only continued pressing the new digit into at a slow pace. 

“Gods,” you moaned when his fingers were pressed into you completely. 

“Not quite,” he answered with a wry smile. 

You were quickly distracted when you realized he was refusing to move his fingers in you. He was just grinding his hand to your clit, and while it felt amazing it wasn’t what you wanted. 

“Gale,” you whined rolling your hips in an effort to get some movement inside of you. 

That was his aim, apparently. Gale held his hand still and allowed you to fuck yourself on his fingers. You grew brazen, chasing after the grinding sensation as well with a roll of your hips. He watched you with a scrutiny that had your body flushing. Gradually you realized he had begun gently scissoring his fingers inside of you, pressing you open wider each time you pulled away from them. 

His fingers were thick and you felt yourself clench around them at the thought of what he’d (hopefully) be replacing them with. You realized, in a passing thought, that you’d struggle to watch his spell casting in a normal way ever again. 

You felt another orgasm building and with great effort stilled your own hips. 

“Please,” you groaned out, “I want you inside me. Please, I’m ready,” you were shamelessly begging. 

“Yes,” Gale agreed before finally thrust his fingers in and out of you a few times and then with drawing them entirely. 

He was quick about removing his own trousers. His cock sprung free and slapped against his stomach, in the moonlight you could make out a bead of precum on the tip.

Your mouth watered. 

Gale didn’t allow your thought to wander any further before settling between your legs. One hand hooked around the back of a thigh and hiked up your leg against him. 

“Tell me if this hurts, despite what you’ve heard it doesn’t have to,” he said leaning over you, bracing himself with his free arm. 

You would rather die, you realized as you nodded a lie to him. 

The head of his cock pressed against your entrance, but he didn’t move any further. It appeared he’d also put you in a position where he could keep you from pushing down on it. You wondered if it was forethought or simply a coincidence. 

When he pressed inside your head collapsed fully against the ground. He was certainly bigger than anything that had been inside you before, his thick fingers included. Painstakingly Gale began pressing into you. His movements were slow and controlled, making sure to keep you immobile. The sensation was uncomfortable but not painful as he stretched you even further. 

You couldn’t help but be grateful, now, for his refusal to fuck you immediately.

When he bottomed out, hips pinned against yours, he groaned head dropping forward. You felt the muscle of his thigh tremble against yours. You were secretly pleased as he struggled to maintain his composure. 

You tried to wait him out, trust him as he had only thought of you so far, but your patience only extended so far. Experimentally you clenched around his cock. 

“Shit,” he groaned, hips stuttering as he restrained a thrust. 

“Please,” you whispered once again fluttering around him, “please.”

Gale pulled out only a little before slowly thrusting into you. It wasn’t much but your eyes rolled back. 

He kept it that way, small shallow thrusts until there was almost no resistance when he did. Then, he began working back further before thrusting into you. He was grunting with each thrust, head hanging low so his forehead was resting against your chest. 

“Gale,” you whined unable to take the coddling much longer. 

It seemed his restraint was hanging on by a thread because his hips snapped up against yours, much harder than any previous movement. 

“Yes,” you cried out in response. 

Gale began truly fucking you then. He was mumbling something against you but the sound of your skin slapping against one another was drowning him out. Your own hips were moving now, too, the hand on your thigh had loosed so he was not longer holding you still. 

“Touch yourself,” he said, voice strained, finally loud enough for you to hear. 

You were able to slide a hand between the two of you. Instead of touching yourself right away you pushed your finger further down enjoying the sensation of the slide of his cock in and out of you. 

Abruptly Gale pushed up so he was sitting back on his knees. Both hands sliding under your hips in order to tilt you up so he never slid fully from inside of you. 

“Now, please,” he groaned out and you realized he was holding back his own orgasm. 

Hurriedly you found your clit with your fingers, this new position making it easier. You rubbed quickly and efficiently in a way you’d long learned would bring you off. 

“Beautiful, you’re so beautiful,” Gale babbled above you. “Come for me, I want to see your face this time.”

It was his words more than your fingers that pushed you over the edge. You whimpered and he began thrusting harder as you squeezed around him. 

Gale came with a shout, eyes screwing shut. He pinned your hips together once more as he spilled inside of you. He rode out his own orgasm like that, hips rolling slightly with each pulse. Once he was done, Gale gently lowered your hips back to the ground, allowing himself to slip out of you.

You extended your hand up to him and when he took it you pulled him down against your chest.

“Next time I think I want to ride you,” you told him after a moment of quiet. 

Gale laughed before tilting his head up to capture your lips in a kiss. 

[bhaalbaaby]

Can I absolutely ask about a breeding fic?

Title: Waves Rush Over (3059 words) Pairing: halsin/f!reader Warnings: breeding kink, slight size and scent kink, praise kink, daddy halsin, fluff and smut, pwp A/N: sorry for the delay 🥹 life keeps happening lol hope you like it

Read on AO3!

Halsin's hands are just one feature you like about him. They tell his stories in more ways than his words. There are callouses and scars, scratches, and are heavy as he rests his hand on your waist and thighs when you sit on his lap. His knuckles can be rougher than bark, especially during the cold. You keep a jar of soothing balm near you at all times to help his cracked skin. Halsin stoically smiles as you apply it, nagging him to take better care of his skin. The children also mimic it, some asking you for mini jars so they can give them to Daddy Halsin if they notice his dry skin. 

Those hands hold many tiny ones at once throughout the day. When his charges are not playing with Thaniel and Oliver, they find Halsin when he's not busy. While his hands are wisened by his years, his features soften. You notice a month after arriving in the former Shadowlands.

If a child isn't adjusting well, Halsin can sense it. He doesn't make the child feel singled out. You catch it once with a young halfling. He kneels in front of them, speaking soft healing words. You can't imagine the trauma the child has seen as you hear the small sniffles escape the even smaller body. Halsin then engulfs them in a hug, cradling the child until they fall asleep. You don't interrupt as you watch, your heart skipping over itself.

Though you have many children who claim you as their new parent, you could see Halsin holding your baby just like this, just as soft. You sigh as you finally leave the sweet scene. If it doesn't happen right away, you'll be fine. There's always the act of making one. 

Halsin knows your body on a molecular level. You wonder if he can read your thoughts when he brings you tea when you're tired, medicine for pain during that time of the month. You notice the times when your hormones are peak that he's friskier. Kisses in the storage closets, his hands exploring your body while you try to cook. Sex happens still but there's never enough time to enjoy it, to indulge like you could before returning to Reithwin. Halsin can feel your frustrations, his little gestures easing some of them. 

As you're helping serve dinner, he rests his hand on your waist, distracting as ever. You stand up straighter, the bowl of sweet greens from the garden on your waist. "May I help you, Daddy Halsin?" You ask, feigning annoyance in front of the children who giggle.

The corners of Halsin's lips curl up slightly as he nods. "Let me take over, my heart. I have a special job for you." Your ears prick up, letting him take the bowl from your hands.

He leans closer than he needs to, whispering in your ear. "Go to the kitchen. I'll be there shortly." You do as you're told, mostly wanting to behave for whatever he has planned for you.

Luckily, your wait isn't long. Halsin puts the bowl on the counter, shaking his head. "These children are growing stronger every day. Good thing for us our harvests have been bountiful." He glances over at you through his dark lashes.

You look away, heat creeping around your collar as you nod. "Yes, the land has blessed us. I hope they never want for nothing."

Halsin steps closer, tilting your chin up to him. You forget how big he is sometimes, the way he towers over you. He presses his lips against yours, pulling away when one of the volunteers comes in to get another bowl of food for the children. They snicker as Halsin still holds you in his arms. "Perhaps we should go somewhere more private," Halsin suggests.

You tilt your head to the side, "Wait, you didn't tell me what my job would be." You interject, gripping his leathery tunic.

"Ah, that." He smirks as he glances towards the door. "In all honesty, there isn't any new charge for you. Well, not yet." He clears his throat. "You're in heat."

Your eyebrows shoot up to your forehead at his blunt statement. "In heat? I'm not like an animal, Halsin," You giggle, his hands sliding from your waist to your ass.

"Not the same intensity as a bear, but I can smell it. When you bent over..." He closes his eyes, breathing deeply. "Your smell is intoxicating. I can barely focus, Tav. All I can think of is taking your body and watching you swell." You feel hot prodding on your stomach, proof that Halsin is telling the truth. He can't go back out there in this state.

"Poor bear," You coo as he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. He exhales, growling softly. "I need you, Tav. Now," He growls, pawing you closer. Pressure builds between your thighs as you start to ache for him. If he doesn't move you now, he'll be forced to take you to the kitchen. You hope the cooks don't mind the clattering of pots and pans.

Halsin picks you up with ease as he leads you into his private room on the main floor. He sleeps in here when bedtime stories go on forever and the stairs are daunting so he says. You don't mind it as he shuts and locks the door. He barely gives you time alone as he sweeps you up in a passionate kiss, your breathing becoming one. You smell the woodsy musk and mint on his breath as your tongues intertwine. He groans, his arms wrapping around your waist, keeping your body flush against his. You close your eyes as you stand on your tiptoes, trying to keep up as he sways, getting lost in the kiss. You pull away, searching for breath as his lips travel down your neck, his hands searching as if trying to pull you even closer, melt you into him. The kisses continue down your chest as you fumble with your top, trying to free your skin from his lips.

He ignores the attempts as he gets on his knees. He stares up at you, his breathing heavy. "You are beautiful, my love." You laugh softly as you pull your restraints from your body, finally topless. You can't think of anything to say back feeling dizzy.

Halsin buries his face between your thighs, inhaling your arousal. You hold your breath, his face and breath warm. Each inhale causes you to throb more as you swallow hard. He sits back on his knees, smirking as he spreads your legs. You've seeped through your pants, the mark is more obvious as he stares. Without a second thought, he leans forward, his tongue slowly swiping up. Your moan catches in your throat, trying to stay quiet. Halsin continues regardless, his tongue swirling on the darkening spot on your pants. Your legs tremble as he teases you, his hands slipping from your thighs to resting on your ass to keep you standing. You bite your lip, massaging your sensitive nipples. Each tweak makes your hips jolt away from his mouth causing a dissapproving growl from Halsin. He pulls away, his eyes between your pants and your flushed face.

"Do not hold yourself back, my love. You surely aren't down here," He whipsers, as he drags your ruined clothes down. You try your best to kick them off, but they get stuck on your heel. You're grateful Halsin is on his knees as he carefully slips the fabric over your feet, tossing them away. He chuckles, his hazel eyes darken as he drags his fingers over your thighs.

"The thought of you dripping with me is too much to bear." His breathing becomes more pronounced as he speaks, his mouth waters.

"I can't take much more waiting." You say, your senses awakening as your nose pricks.

He doesn't need more encouragement to give in to his temptations. You lean back into the wall as his tongue laps at your folds, his hands keeping your legs firmly apart. You finally audibly moan as you watch him feast, his tongue flicking at your clit. His lips wrap around it, suckling the nerves. Your toes curl as his tongue continues its lithe licks. The sensations are overwhelming as you reach for something other than his hair to grab onto. 

He buries his tongue between your folds as you grip his broad shoulders, moaning out as he presses you against the wall. He bobs his head back and forth, his tongue thrusting in and out of your dripping sex. His hands massage your ass as you tremble, feeling so weak each time his tongue enters, swirling around. You can barely say his name, your mouth unable to form words, thoughts barely forming beside the pressure building in your stomach. He glances up at you, his tongue dragging up to your swollen clit.

You curse, your hips jutting against the druid's face. He presses your hips against his hungry mouth as he suckles your clit, groaning as you writhe, trying to move away from the immense pleasure. He removes his mouth, raising his eyebrow as you gaze down at his face, panting as you try to catch your breath in this moment of reprieve.

"You are sweeter than any honey, my heart. Please, sing to me." He says as he guides your hips back to him, his mouth quickly finding your swollen button and making acquaintances as he flicks and swirls his tongue around it.

"I can't take this much longer." You cry out as your legs rest on his shoulders, wrapping around his head. He moans in response, his head rocking up and down as his tongue guides up from your entrance to your clit and back down, his nose pressed against your clit.

You're on the verge of exploding when you feel his thick finger prod at your hole his tongue making its way back to your clit. You gasp as he thrusts in, your stomach tightening. You try to run away again, but his other hand is firm on your backside. His gorgeous eyes glance up at you watching the ecstasy paint your face as he quickens his pace.

He pulls away briefly, licking his lips. "The way you squeeze around my finger... I can only imagine how you'll feel around my cock, accepting my seed." You massage your breasts again, wincing as you rock your hips with his digit, feeling so close.

"Please," You beg, not wanting to come from his mouth and fingers. You crave his cock more than ever.

He smiles as he carefully removes your legs from his shoulders. His hand however doesn't leave between your thighs, his middle finger thrusting inside and claiming your hole for him. You try to squeeze your legs together to minimize the gushing noises that escape to no avail.

He chuckles as he looks down, "Dripping to the floor. You are quite the sight." You glance up at him, pouting that he hasn't fucked you yet. He leans down kissing you breathless. Your head swims as you gain autonomy of your hands, reaching for his breeches and tugging them down. His heavy cock springs out, searching for your heat. You wrap your hands around his girth while his tongue and yours dance. You love how you taste on him, the essence of your arousal only adding to his delicious taste.

He pulls away, growling. His eyes are shut tight. "I must have you now." You wonder if the wall would give if he wild shapes into a bear now, but the thought fades as he picks you up, guiding your hips up to his cock. You wrap your arms around his neck, peppering kisses on his jaw as his hands sink your hips on his thick member. You rest your damp forehead against his jaw as you moan, your breathing ragged. You try not to give into the pleasure right away, your hole quivering as he slowly thrusts inside.

"Oak Father bless me." He moans, his fingers digging into your soft skin as he picks up his pace. You rest back on the wall as you attempt to watch him. His leather tunic is still on, not like he cares. You drag your fingers down his chest, panting. "You're amazing," Halsin moans with a small breathless laugh. He leans closer using the wall as leverage as he picks up his pace, filling you the brim with each thrust. You can't keep your moans down, pleasurable cries escaping your body as your cunt weeps for him.

"Fill me up please, my love. Breed me." You moan, resting your forehead against his. He groans at the statement, smirking as he bounces your body on his cock. "Oh, my heart. I will. Your womb will only know my seed." His mouth sloppily kisses yours, the wet sounds each time his cock fills your hole music to both of your ears. You whimper feeling his balls smack against your ass, his cock pressing deep inside.

His hands wrap around your hips, the extra force of his grip sending pleasure pangs throughout your whole body. You both need this. Your hips seize up as you push his cock out, the knots in your lower stomach too much to bear. He rubs his cock against your slit and cock as you stiffen in his hands, and goosebumps rush from your head to your toes. He chuckles as the orgasm ripples through you. "Such a beautiful sight." He whispers before gathering you up.

He carries you to your bed, the frame sinking as he climbs on top of you, his legs pushing yours up. He runs his hand down your neck to your hips, keeping you still as he slowly thrusts inside. You reach behind your head for the pillow, mewling as his cock claims you. Your mind clouds with only thoughts of him as he continues with his previous pace, pounding you into the bed. The bed is less forgiving, the squeaking and headboard hits against the wall with each thrust. You don't mind the extra noise as your nails dig into the feather-down pillow, fingertips pricked by the calamus.

He leans down, his intoxicating kiss taking over your senses again as he presses against your c-spot. You can feel his cock pulsating with each thrust, his grunts more pronounced. "Ah, I'm so close, my heart."

You whimper as you kiss him in response, your teeth dragging on his bottom lip. "Claim me, my body is yours." You moan as you let go of the pillow. Your hands meet as he presses your wrists down against the bed. He leans up, the headboard erratic as his face contorts, his hips flush with yours as he explodes. The feeling of his emission inside drives you over the edge again, your eyes closed tight as you cry for him.

His nose is stuffy as he breathes through his nose, trying to calm down. He keeps his cock inside of you as he sits back, rubbing your clit. You close your thighs together, his other hand rubbing his shaft. "Every drop belongs to you," He whispers as you clench around his softening member. You sit up on your elbows, rocking your hips against his. He laughs softly, his hand leaving his cock on your waist.

"I'm not as young as I feel." He admits. You roll your eyes as he readjusts, letting you ride him.

"I want every drop," You purr, bouncing your ass against his thighs.

He practically tears his shirt off as he throws it on the floor. "You may have it," Halsin replies, spreading your ass as you ride. "The need to breed you..." He lies back against the bed, spreading his legs slightly to give himself more leverage. You can feel his shaft harden, ready for more as he hits your spot once more.

Your legs tremble as you rock your hips. "I want it. I want to be your breeding whore." You moan as he takes over your pace, thrusting hard into you, his arms wrapping around your torso to hold you down.

You can't handle the immense pleasure that erupts throughout your body, your moans turning into breathless screams. "That's it. Good girl..." Your nostrils flare at the nickname, driving you insane.

"Please, Halsin, fill me." You pant, before biting and sucking his neck.

His growl vibrates in your mouth as he holds his hips against yours for a moment before picking up his speed again. He curses under his breath as his thrusts are more reckless, the familiar pulsing filling your hole as you throb around him, so close to another orgasm. His hand leaves your waist, finding your hair, tugging your face to his. "I love you," He groans, holding your face in place before Mount Halsin erupts again, overwhelming your cunt as his thrusts slow to sharp and precise ones. His moans are better than any song you've ever heard as he coaxes you to orgasm making you join him in a hueless haze.

You roll off him, breathing heavily. He sits up slightly as your legs spread, his seed seeping out. "Such a delicious sight. Had I more energy, I'd pound it back into you. Not one drop wasted." He remarks, ignoring the heat that comes to your cheeks. He leans over, suckling your nipple.

"Halsin," You whimper, your body a live wire. He pulls away with a small pop.

"The night is still young... I will get us some food and we'll dine up in our room."

You raise your eyebrow at the implication. He smiles as he slips off the bed. "We'll need some energy if we are to continue."

"Continue?" You ask coyly as you roll to your side.

He nods. "You will be thoroughly bred tonight, Tav." He grabs his pants and his ripped shirt from the floor. He nods at the door next to the bed. "That door leads to a secret staircase to our bedroom. Do not put anything on. I want you as you are. Just as nature intended."

You giggle as you slowly get off the bed, your legs not quite ready. "Do not keep me waiting." You say with a wink before disappearing up the staircase, excited for what the night will bring.

taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @tragedybunny @astarionsbeloved @thedancingbun @razrogue @celestialomlette @rentheannihilator @rinmoon7

[whimsiandwild]

Peace

Pairing: Female!reader x Minthara

Word count: 576

Warnings: It's fluffy and then a little sad.

A/N: Soft Minthara because she's my wife and I'm in love.

Moonlight bled into the ruins through the gaps in the wall, bathing the two of you as you leaned against the altar. Minthara’s head was on your lap and you were certain she’d dozed off soon after you began dragging your fingers through her loose tresses.

A contented sigh left you as your head fell back to rest upon the stone, happy to sit here in the silence with her one last night before she had to begin the perilous journey through the shadowlands to Moonrise. It had taken some fierce convincing to get her to delay her trip, but you’d made it worth her while.

After all of the bloodshed and fighting, it was a relief to spend some time away from it all. You had no regrets about the decisions you made; the tieflings were not your concern; however it was tiresome. Honestly, you’d been considering helping them, but then you’d met her. In a single second, Minthara had encompassed you, body, spirit, and soul. She became everything; you’d have offered yourself as sacrifice if she’d asked you to; and you wanted to worship her for every day she’d let you.

And now, unbelievably, she was here in your embrace still, having chosen you over everyone else. You felt blessed.

She stirred in your lap and you smiled, your fingers still working mindlessly through her hair. Tiny, happy noises radiated from her and your heart seemed to seize as she tightened around your thighs.

“Pleasant dreams?” She nodded as she stretched and curled into you, a chuckle escaping you as you held her. “What were you thinking about, Minnie?”

“I do hate when you call me that, little one,” she said, affection coating her words as she sat up and stroked your cheek tenderly. “I was thinking of how wonderful it would be to stay here, with you, and forget duties and missions, just for a while. Until the Absolute called us back again to fight for her.”

“Perhaps you could,” Your words came out breathier than expected and she gave a light laugh, running the pad of her thumb along your bottom lip; your eyes fluttered for the briefest of moments. “It could be us, just us. This doesn’t have to be our war.”

“Ah, but it does, little one. We’re far too important to the Absolute; she’s shown us that. What I wouldn’t give to indulge that fantasy, though.”

Her lips found yours for the softest, sweetest kiss she’d bestowed on you so far, and you melted, your arms draping around her shoulders as you scooched closer. She held you, embraced you tenderly, and the two of you stayed in your bliss for a long while. Everything was slow and sanguine, and perfect.

Too soon, Minthara pulled herself from you, leaving you wanting. She stood and began to dress herself in her armour, your heart sinking as you watched; you’d hoped to delay this moment forever. How long would it be before you saw her again? Would you? What if you couldn’t make it through to Moonrise? You’d never see her again, and you couldn’t bear it.

“Don’t go, Minnie. Please,”

Your hand gripped hers tightly, and she smiled down at you before pulling you to your feet, her hands sliding around your waist. She kissed the tip of your nose and rest her forehead against yours.

“I must. I swear to you, little one, that we will meet again. We must.”

[vagabondfandoms]

More Than A Moment

Falls On Me Part Two

Day Nine: Rosymorn Pilgrimage Route

Rating: Teen

Previous Parts: Falls On Me

Tags/Warning: Gale POV, Gale x Female Tav. Gale needs reminders to eat, a brief mention of Gale's past sexual escapades, and light-hearted teasing from the group. Approx: 1300 words

Sorry for the delay in uploading the second part of Falls on Me. I was fighting with the second half of this chapter. So I decided to expand the more playful part so I could release it as its own. The next chapter will contain more serious story points aka Githyanki Creche.

---

The Tadpole Troupe has been on the road a couple of days since they left the sanctuary of the Druid’s Grove. They encountered gnolls and a Zhentarim hideout on the road to Baldur’s Gate but nothing proves too perilous for the group of now eight. 

Halsin decided to join their team, having both knowledge of the Shadowlands surrounding Moonrise Towers and a personal vendetta to see that area free of the darkness plaguing it. Gale doesn’t mind having the druid on the team, the wood elf brings a certain level-headedness to the group that only a man who lived as long as Halsin could provide.

Knowing the area the best, Halsin recommended two routes to Moonrise. The first was through the Underdark and the second was through the mountains. Lae’zel was still keen on visiting the Githyanki Creche, claiming the zaith’isk could purify their minds of the mind-flayer tadpoles. Since the tadpoles were still a huge concern for the majority of the group, they headed to the mountain pass with only mild grumbling about “not trusting the gith” from Shadowheart.

The Mountain Path proved treacherous with the road not being maintained for several years. The locals living at an inn claimed it was once a popular pilgrimage route for the followers of Lathander but ever since the Githyanki took over the area, nobody travels to the monastery anymore.

Even with the road being rough, Gale can see why the area was once a popular destination. The scenery was breathtaking with its spectacular mountain vistas, waterfalls, and views of the vast landscape below. The trees are lush and just starting to turn their autumn colors. Gale wishes it was a few weeks later into the year so he could see the valley in its full colorful splendor. 

On more than one occasion Gale finds himself stopping to enjoy his surroundings while giving his legs a well-needed break. During these rests either Copper or himself will wander to each other and share a snack between them. It was nice getting reminders to eat and drink because Gale was extremely bad at remembering on his own. His mind was always too occupied with his research and education, to think about caring for his body. 

The wizard often wished he had a spell that could take care of all the menial everyday tasks, such as eating, drinking, or going to the bathroom without him having to stop what he was doing. But once he eats a delicious meal he remembers why he loves food so much and feels a little guilty (in a voice that sounds awfully like his mother) for denying his body such nourishment. Being on the road, however, is making Gale miss any type of food that wasn't dried, salted, or half rotten. 

“I wish we were back at my tower in Waterdeep,” Gale grumbles sourly to Copper as he takes a bite of dried fish. “I have an excellent kitchen and a wine cellar to rival Ondal himself. I could make us a sumptuous home-cooked meal of quipper fish topped with my mother’s famous hundur sauce.” He waves the half-eaten fish in the air wanting to throw it away but takes a bite to finish it instead. “A far *munch* better meal than this pathetic thing.” 

“You would want me there? At your home?” Copper asks with a slight blush on her cheeks. Gale always likes when Copper blushes but instead of getting distracted this time by the adorable redness of her cheeks, he notices the surprise in her voice. 

“Of course!” Gale encourages, placing one of his hands on hers. “You can meet my mother and Tara as well. But I might not invite them to dinner… they can be awfully nosey and I want our first real meal together as pleasant as possible.” 

“What else are we going to do?” Copper says happily, playing along with the fantasy. She even laces their fingers together and slightly swings their hands back and forth as they start walking.

“Well, after keeping up our appearances with my mothers. Tara likes to think I’m her kitten even though I outweigh her 10 times over.” Gale adds quickly. “We can take a walk down near the waters. There’s a lovely stretch of beach between Watching Tower and Habor Watch. If we are adventurous we could even travel up to the beaches near West Gate. But to be honest, I would like to stay close to home. It makes for a quicker getaway if the mood takes us on more romantic routes.” 

“Gale!” Copper shoves him playfully in the shoulder, stifling a laugh. “Are you telling me in a roundabout way that you made love in the sand before?”

“Well it wasn’t my most proud moment,” Gale confesses, a playful glint in his eye. “I had sand up my arsecheeks for a good day or two after the encounter. Not even a spell could fix it. But I expect no wizard ever fully committed themselves to try to develop a sand-in-the-bahoochie removal charm.” 

Copper starts laughing and Gale can feel the vibrations through their cusped hands. He’s on the verge of laughing too when Copper gives him a heated stare. “Soooo, since we established the beach isn’t your favorite spot to make love. Where is Mister Waterdeep’s preferred locat….” 

Before Copper could finish her sentence, Astarion comes barging between the flirting couple, breaking their hold on each other’s hands. “Urgh, enough of all this sweet talk! It’s making me feel sick,” the pale elf complains.

“HEY!” Karlach and Shadowheart shout in unison. 

“It was just getting to the good part,” Karlach whines as Astarion sticks his tongue out to taunt her. 

Scratch and Owlbert Dark Feathers sensing the playful energy, start to run in circles, jumping up at their human companions wanting to join in on the fun. Their joyful antics just upped the chaotic energy that erupted around the befuddled couple.

“I was looking forward to hearing more.” Shadowheart sighs as she leisurely passes Gale and Copper as Karlach, Scratch, and the Owlbear Cub barrel past them after the teasing vampire. 

Gale quickly catches sight of a mischievous gleam in the tieflings eyes and sees within seconds that she captures Astarion and gives his head a noogie before quickly letting go so he doesn’t catch on fire.

The cleric smirks as Astarion lets out a big yowl and fixes his hair. Shadowheart continues talking, ignoring the chaos around her, directing her next words back towards Gale. “Walking gets awfully dull and a good fantasy story makes the time go by faster. But next time, avoid yapping about sand in your bum and get right to the good stuff.”

“Rude!” Gale calls out after Shadowheart. “They were listening in to our conversation.” 

He huffs in annoyance, looking at Copper for agreement but noticing she was shifting her feet, looking flustered. “Well, we shouldn’t expect anything to stay private with this group.” She mumbles, chewing on her lip. “Not with how close we have to travel and the tadpoles connecting our minds.” 

“That dampens the mood a little.” Gale sighs at the reminder of their current tadpole situation but perks back up when he reclaims Copper’s hand, giving her a flirty smile. “I liked where this conversation was going. Should we continue anyway?”

“Gale. Not in front of the others.” Copper cautions, her eyes shifting around, giving Wyll an awkward little wave as he passes. Both sensed the young man was trying to suppress his laughter since he witnessed the whole silly event from the rear guard. 

“I can only stand one embarrassing incident per day.”

Gale chuckles at the woman’s nervous antics, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry dear. I’ll keep your modesty intact for another day.” He pulls her close for a quick side hug for extra reassurance as they join the group up the mountain path.

---

Author's Note: A small heads up. This story might update slower than Part One since it's summer and I need to enjoy the warm weather while it lasts. *lives in a cold northern climate.*

[loquaciousquark]

also finally got there last night after SO LONG! Araj doesn't happen for them until the very end of Act 2, and as much as I love the structure of the shadowlands I was frothing at all the little delays and extra fights.

I continue to figure out key points in her character and her relationship with Astarion this run, even more than expected. It's incredibly satisfying to see her gain some really nice defined edges to her shape, especially since I didn't firm up her background the first time until partly through Act 3. I still need to do a lot of work with her and the other companions, but that'll come in time.

The new kiss is blastedly cute. I've never been one much hung up on height differences (see: ten+ years of Hawke & Fenris, who were the same height), but the suggestion that she stands up on tiptoes to get to him makes me smile every single darned time.

[fkitwebhaal]

(Tumblr Version) Fic: I WILL FACE THE GODS AND WALK BACKWARDS INTO AVERNUS 2/10

Ship: Background Durge/Astarion but it's not the focus

Fandom: BG3

Warnings: Canon typical violence and gore, game spoilers

Rating: PG-13

AO3

Summary: 

When her fellow amnesiac tells Shadowheart that they “hate all the Gods equally” she’s sure they must be lying. By the time she finds them lecturing Gale about the Goddess of magic, it has become abundantly clear they they were not joking. Or: Durge is the biggest God hater in Faerun.

This Chapter:

Gale gets a message that no one likes, Rune calls Mystra a bitch and Lae’zel thinks about about where she stands now.

Notes: This was my first time writing Lae'zel POV so I hope I did it justice. There will likely be a delay between the next chapter because I actually need to play a save file where Minthara lives to experience her well enough to write! But her POV should be next, so gaming time it is.

Fic under the cut!

Their first few days in the Shadowlands were not going well, given Lae’zel was mentally preparing for the possibility she might have to break up a magical fight between their resident wizard and sorcerer.

She hoped she wouldn’t have to: ideally Gale and Rune would decide to spar or have an official duel, rather than casting spells in the middle of camp. That would be the responsible way to go about it. Back among her people, where violence was accepted as long as it was structured, Lae’zel had settled some of her own arguments in that manner, meeting peers with the end of her blade and a superior looking on.  But Lae’zel was not among the gith, she might never be again given her people had cast her a traitor, and so she resided herself to the unpredictable customs of the world she’d landed on. 

If she was back home, either Gale or Rune would have already started fighting to the death given the words they were exchanging. But they had yet to throw a single spell. 

“You can’t be taking this request seriously,” Rune said from across the camp. This was not the first time Lae’zel overheard this debate between the two. She doubted it would be the last.

This all began after Gale had once again brought up Mystra. Rune, Lae’zel realized, was honest with those they trusted. While they could switch their denemor in an instant to suit a scenario, becoming a devout cult worshiper for the goblins and a meek lost stranger for the Harpers, they never bothered to put on the same performance in the close quarters of the camp. There Rune told people what they thought, not what they wanted them to say. Lae’zel had not appreciated it until after Vlaakith, where Rune’s critique of her once Queen turned from heresy into stating facts. 

Vlaakith felt like an open wound still, a terrible gaping sense of loss she tried to ignore. What did one do, when the world fell out from underneath them? Lae’zel was on solid earth now, but it felt like she was still falling from the nautiloid some days, desperate to find something to save her from hitting the ground.

Gale was the one on the receiving end of Rune’s honesty today. While he appeared to take it better than Lae’zel had, Lae’zel could see how the wizard tightened his grip on his staff with every word. Rune made it no secret that they cared little for the Gods, but Gale must have thought Mystra was the exception when she was clearly not. 

In fact, it appeared Rune disliked Mystra far more than other deities, given how they were speaking to Gale on the subject. With Vlaakith, Rune had only commented on Lae’Zel’s beliefs when Lae’zel brought them up first. This time, Rune had walked up to Gale’s tent and been the one to start the debate. 

This was new. Rune made it clear from the first mention of Mystra's name that they had no fondness for Gale’s former paramore. But before today, it had been an impersonal sort of dislike, the kind that seemed baseline for Rune and deities. And then Elminster had shown up with an order no one found reasonable but Gale.

Now, Rune’s dislike was now clearly personal. Lae’zel caught them staring at Gale’s earrings with a rage they usually reserved for their enemies. If Gale ever took them out, she wouldn’t put it past Rune to throw them into the nearest river without an ounce of regret. Rune now frowned when they heard the Goddesses' name, scorn clear in their expression. For a few days, they’d appeared to try to hold their tongue, but as they got closer to Moonrise and Gale further entertained the ludicrous orders he’d been given, they’d apparently decided to shelve tact for pure honesty. Honesty that Gale, at the moment, was not taking well.

“Mystra would not ask this of me were it not important,” Gale said, back stiff straight, almost like he was giving a lecture instead of having a conversation. Lae’zel had quit sharpening her sword to listen in on their conversation, instead sorting her arrows to ensure she didn’t mix up the magical ones with the others. Part of her thought listening in was beneath her, but Gale’s choice did involve them all. If he were to do as his Goddess commanded, he might take them all with him. “It’s not out of a loss of love she asks this of me.”

Rune stood across from Gale, shaking slightly, like they did when their temper got the best of them. Lae’zel had noticed that tell of theirs early on, and had kept an eye out for it since, knowing it a good cue that there might soon be a fight. She still did not think Rune would challenge Gale to a physical battle, it was not Gale who Rune was so incensed with, but she watched carefully all the same. Should they lose themselves, someone would have to pry the two apart before the camp became covered in ice. 

“The Gods view us as pawns for their agenda,” Rune said, voice steady despite the scowl on their face. “That’s not love; that’s how you use a tool.”

Gale looked very tired. Lae’zel wondered if it was due to the message Elminster brought or the ordeal that was arguing with their leader when they were in a proper mood. “Everyone dies, Rune.”

“Of course they do; that doesn’t mean we run at death with a warm embrace.” Rune pressed their pointer finger into Gale’s chest, right over where Lae’zel knew the orb laid. She’d seen it a few days ago, back when they found a stream to bath in. The black veins that ran from the orb looked painful. “If she could stabilize your orb, she could fix it. The reason she won’t is because she’d rather get rid of you and the Absolute in the same blow.”

That got a reaction out of Gale that wasn’t feigned academic detachment. He took a sharp breath in and glared, his voice stern, like he was lecturing a child. It was a bad habit of his, one Lae’zel did not appreciate. “Mystra is not a petty ex-lover.”

Rune wasn’t cowed by his change in response. They shook their head, mimicking Gale’s posture and tone. When they lost their patience, they sometimes duplicated the person they were arguing with, the mocking intent clear. This was a bad habit of Rune’s, one Lae’zel also did not appreciate. When Rune spoke, it was as if Gale was a child they were trying to teach a simple lesson to. “If one thing unites the Gods, it’s being petty.”

Lae’zel did not miss the sparks that crackled from Gale’s free hand, little arcs of lightning traveling up his sleeve and into his robes. 

“Do you think I should intervene before we have a mage’s duel on our hands?” Lae’zel turned her attention towards Wyll, who was now standing next to her tent, watching their casters debate the intentions of deities. “Can’t say I disagree with Rune on this one, but they’re being a prick about it. They might want to try a gentler touch.”

“Pah,” Lae’zel said, glancing back at the pair. Gale looked to be dismissing Rune from their conversation. Rune’s lip was curled back into a snarl, but they didn’t look to be out of their wits, so Lae’zel stayed where she was. She turned her face up to look at Wyll, who was looking down at her in turn.  “There is no gentle touch to striking at matters of faith. It will cause pain all the same.”

Wyll put his hand to his chin. While trying to bed the man at the Tiefling party had been a miserable failure, Lae’zel hadn’t fully hated the long conversation she’d found herself pulled into. Wyll was a good listener, genuinely curious about Gith culture, and willing to answer her questions about the strange world she found herself in. She would have preferred sex, but learning what a tressym was proved somewhat useful.  “I guess you would know, huh.”

Lae’zel did know. She’d endured hearing her Queen, the one she dedicated her whole life to,  questioned the minute she landed in this realm. She’d spoke of her honor to her companions who knew nothing of where she came from. Lae’zel had arrived in a strange land and defended the most pure truths she had ever known, resolute to those who dared to question otherwise. And Lae’zel had watched as her faith was ripped apart into small shreds, finding her guiding purpose to be nothing more than puppet strings tied around her own neck.

(Rune was kind, afterwards. She expected them to chide her for not knowing better, but instead they had come to her tent after night had fallen, and offered her the circlet they’d found at the creche. They’d listened to her try to reconcile the events of the day and when she was done, they’d told her something that had stuck with her. 

“I know you’ve spent a lot of time wanting to be worthy of Vlaakith” they’d said. “But I think it is Vlaakith who was never worthy of you.”)

Lae’zel didn’t answer Wyll, and taking her silence as a cue, he walked off. Rune walked towards her tent shortly after, shoulders raised in agitation. Lae’zel stood up to speak with them.

“I am pleased to see your critique of Gods is truly comprehensive,” Lae’zel said as Rune walked past her tent. They stopped mid stride and turned to look at her, then flushed, likely realizing their entire argument had been audible. 

“I promise, it’s universal. There’s a reason Shadowheart won’t talk to me about Shar.” Lae’ Zel doubted that was the only reason: Shadowheart would barely talk to her about Shar and Lae’zel sometimes had her face in between the cleric's legs. 

“Is there a reason why you hate them?” She asked, finding herself curious. Her relationship with her Queen was very different from how those of the material plane treated their Gods, but there were some overlaps; the need for a higher purpose, the want to serve a collective, the desire to be more than the confines of one’s body. She wondered if Rune objected to the same feelings she’d used to guide her entire life.” Do you dislike the idea of serving a higher cause?”

Rune didn’t answer at first, their expression turning thoughtful. 

“Not really,” they said, talking slower than usual.  “Though I can’t say I’d like that either. It’s more about…” They tapped their foot on the dirt, clearly searching for the right word. Lae’zel waited until they found it. “Their power I guess. Their ability to influence people so easily. Gale spent a year in that tower of his worried he could destroy all of Waterdeep and the moment Mystra finds him useful, she sends someone to stabilize the orb.” They glanced at Gale, who was still standing outside his tent, nose buried in a book.  Lae’zel could see his hands shaking as he held the tome. “Mystra might want the greater good like Gale claims, but she cannot ask me to pretend such actions are out of mercy rather than convenience.”

Lae’zel thought that over. Personally, she had her doubts that Mystra’s request was based on the greater good; if she was the Goddess of magic, certainly she could solve Gale’s issue without killing the man. If she lacked the power, she wasn’t a Goddess worshiping. Frankly, she thought the entire idea was wasteful on Mystra’s part. Lae’zel was a soldier, and soldiers knew that sometimes the mission meant laying down one’s life to accomplish. But it was folly to send a capable warrior off to their death should that not be required. To do otherwise was wasteful.

“You think your Gods manipulative?”

Rune’s nose crinkled at the term “your Gods” but they didn’t comment on it further. “They are manipulative; some are more honest about it than others,and Mystra is not one of them. Gale says she cares for him, but as far as I can see it, the Gods see us as cherished tools at best.” Their scowl deepened. “But a tool is a thing you use, not that you treasure. I can respect their place in the order of things and I won’t decline their help but I refuse to bow to someone who sees my worth only in terms of my use.”

Lae’zel looked at Rune for a long moment. She wanted to disagree with them, that there was honor and dignity to submit when the cause was greater than one’s life. Even after the truth about Vlaakith, she still believed that. Rune might not see the merit in pledging themselves to a cause, but that did not mean such a pledge was inherently debasing. But the idea of one’s worth being seen only in terms of their use-

She had no issue with her Queen viewing her in terms of her usefulness for the cause of her people. That had been a purpose worthy of Lae’zel’s faith. It was only when she found her use was measured by the nourishing power her soul could provide when her Queen’s assessment of her turned sour.

“There is no shame in being valued for one’s talents,” Lae’zel said. “The issue lies in what traits one sees as “useful.”

Gale had many talents; his aptitude for magic, his helpful if unwieldy explanations of the world she found herself in, his skill in making dinner from whatever they had lying around. Mystra looked past all of that and instead viewed Gale’s greatest asset as how he could die. 

Rune nodded. Both of them watched as Gale gave up on reading, rubbed his chest where the orb was and entered his tent. 

Lae’zel hoped one of them might convince him of a worthier cause than laying down his life before all of this was over.

[weantuniverse]

We wonder if there were any delays when Mr. DeLay raced to meet his deadline for this illustration of Father Time racing the locomotive of progress.  From Shadowland, 1922.

[pyraelia]

How long will Pyraelia give it before she starts seriously looking into Fio's well-being? I know she already has some ideas...

Oh, she's already looking. She started trying to figure it out within three days. Pyraelia hasn't forgotten that her friend in the Bronzes saw a timeline where Fio was dead. She was already able to circumvent that once, but there's a chance that just delayed things.

She checked in with them to make sure she hadn't hopped timelines all together -- after all, she'd run into her daughter in Eon's Fringe, and that was a temptation.

She checked in with Fio's former doctor Lynesse, because Lynesse has some weird ties to the Shadowlands just to make sure Fio wasn't already there, and she wasn't, so that's so far so good.

She knows Fio's somewhere on Azeroth, and still alive. Blood magic just takes time to streamline.

Thanks @kharrisdawndancer!

[nixalegos]

Sinday Time: An everyday merchant or businessman isn't exactly your enemy, but they are making your life exceedingly hard through their own economic practice. If you could guarantee your own family's livelihood by cursing or dooming their own through magic, would you? Why or why not?

The hooded man took a moment to compose himself as he watched the Mogul class flying machine slowly be idled into the goblin garage with a nasally fanfare of the much smaller shop owner giving a whistle of appreciation. "You know Fel'scythed, you really gotta stop making your prices so reasonable, at this rate, you'll be working directly for me!" The goblin said with an arrogant sneer. The Mega-Mogul Mk 2's were a custom machine job, and a not insignificant source of income since the loss of Shadowhold. Nix had taken to crafting them with parts he'd had personally machined and expertly refined. But the smaller goblin had come into a windfall from a now deceased aunt who'd accrued a lifetime of adventures amount of gold and left it all to their only remaining family, Marzax Greasehands. The goblin mechanic in turn, had done the smart thing. He'd turned the gold around and started to use it to buy up sought after luxury goods that couldn't simply be replaced within a day or three, and then used the very same products to tank markets to their liking when the original crafters placed a second into open air bidding. The second was bought by Greasehands himself, and then the first machine relisted at significant markup, while the original maker of both machines was left with a decent, but not AS profitable outcome as they'd like. They would be forced to spend time making a third, or fourth machine to stay in the black. It was perfectly legal, considered by many the only proper way to 'play' Azeroth's auction circuit, and utterly, bloody ANNOYING. But murdering them would be an issue, as welcome as it would be. Adventuring types murdering each other was more often then not, a norm once beyond city walls, one could forgive the wild dogs of Azeroths best and fiercest, when they nabbed at bit at each other. But Greasehands was a tax paying civilian, an utter nobody in spirit, but would have been -noticed- if they suddenly went missing with their considerable bank account left to flutter for the taking. Investigations would pend by the bankers and brokers into one of their own. Not out of concern, but because if someone was going to start knocking off one of their heads, then that meant all their heads were liable to be send to the Shadowlands express if not stopped. And stopped in this context was alot more force then the Alliance or Horde brought down even on criminals and cultists. Capital used to enforce capital. Still. It was one thing to deal with such a petty little...annoyance and another to handle it gracefully. Lord Felscythe, was not graceful. So as the goblin sneered and made quips about how much they planned on marking up one of Nix's handcrafted machines, he looked to where the sayaad was standing, near the goblins tool bench. He didn't need to see them to know they were grinning at having carved the cursed rune into the underside of their workstation. Greasehands wanted to be such a limp-dicked bastard playing machine shop mogul, then he'd get to enjoy the literal curse of impotence he'd inflict upon himself everytime he handled his own tools. Apologies for the delay @safrona-shadowsun, but thanks for the ask!

[cilis-readings]

may I ask if I will have a successful acting career if I start acting now? Or will I have to wait till I'm older. Thank you!

hello!! sorry for the delay, here’s what i got for you :)

deck: the shadowland tarot by monica bodirsky

card: ten of swords

the ten of swords is kind of a scary card to some people but to me it represents feel accomplished, having things be resolved, and nostalgia. this card feels like it’s a sign to go for it now rather than waiting until you’re older, waiting until you’re older might leave you with limited opportunities versus starting now and being able to fully enjoy and appreciate the process!

[televinita]

I feel it may be bad etiquette to hijack a femslash post explicitly to ramble about the het shipping notions it inspired in me, so I'm going to make my own, but please imagine this attached directly to the Brennan/Hannah post that (if all goes well) I reblogged right above this one:

---------------------

I just did the most immediate double take at the center picture because WAIT A MINUTE!!

When I stormed away from Bones in a fit of fury after episode 100, soft-quit the show for the rest of the season, and then rage-quit forever due to the introduction of A Love Interest for Booth (only catching up on the shippy clips, after the series ended), I did so with no knowledge of what Hannah looked like, or at minimum only a glancing look in a slideshow to confirm how bad everything was. It was pretty much a given that I would never watch a full episode of the show again, or at the very least, I would never go into The Shadowlands a.k.a. the string of episodes between #100 and when B/B are officially a couple.

But if that love interest is Kathryn Winnick, now best known to me as my dearly beloved star of Big Sky / headcanon sister of Julia Shumway from an entirely different channel and genre of show / absolutely lovely and captivating actress in her own right??

Now that's a ship I can get behind, especially if it's temporary. Now it's a storyline I can understand. I am not sorry about being forever pissed by how they handled that whole mess in the first place, but as far as consolation prizes go, this is extremely nice, even if it had to be on time-delay.

[edit: doing a quick little google and what do you mean she's a journalist oh my god maybe THIS character is the one that's Julia's sister. Twin, even.]

[edit 2: "Booth meets Hannah in Afghanistan after saving her from a situation with terrorists." WHAT]

[edit 3: "Later, Booth gets a call that Hannah was shot when interrogating a member of the community," WHAT! Also, what's the name of that other woman he used to work with, I don't quite recall her name...might have started with a B?]

[beyourlionheart]

For the truth or dare game

🍄🔪🪐🎨

ahh thanks for the ask!! (sorry for the delay answering though)

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

I really like the idea of Gale absurd body heat. Like he's the guy who's still radiating heat even when everyone else is absolutely freezing in the Shadowlands. So then whoever you ship him with, but in this case Astarion makes the most sense, considering the vampirism, is just obsessed with trying to crawl into his bedroll at night for a bit of warmth. Also works for Karlach!

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I researched a loooot about heart disease for Expert in a Dying Field. I'm probably still way off on some of the details though LMAO

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

I just moved into a gorgeous new apartment with big windows! (hence the answering delay)

I'm officially done school, as of last week.

I'm planning for a grad trip in about two months with two of my friends!

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

I think this is the most beautiful rendition of Gale I have ever seen, and the whole image is just SO heartbreaking!!

I'm also gonna shout out this piece that someone had commissioned based off one of my fics!

[geduhiha]

Buy Wow Sod Gold

Purchase WoW Shadowlands gold to enhance your gaming experience in the mystical realms of Azeroth. Acquire the currency to unlock rare items, upgrade your gear, and dominate your adversaries. With WoW gold, conquer challenges and explore the depths of Shadowlands with unparalleled prowess.

[ultramagicalternate]

ULTRAMagic Interlude: Shadowland Chapter 24

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Master Post

Following in line with the previous day, the demolition was sheer chaos. The Eternal Church was swarmed with knights and soldiers, all trying to clear it out before it was demolished. Sten had no love for it as it was erected during the reign of the Vozenilek’s, but it did have valuable items and artifacts inside it. And as to be expected, cultists were trying to interfere with the destruction of their church. Sten had given orders to subdue any aggressors and focus on clearing out the building, but Captain Saul’s men were a little too heated to heed those orders.

“FOR THE GLORY OF THE CHURCH!” A cultist with an assault rifle screamed as he barreled forward.

“SILENCE HEATHEN” Logan shouted back as he swung his mace into the cultist’s side. This knocked them to the ground, dropping the weapon before it could be fired.

“Haha, nice one, brother!” Saul complimented.

“Blithering blaggards…” he then caught something out of the corner of his eye. “SHIELDS UP! GUNNER IN THE GALLERY AT 12 O’CLOCK!”

Claudius emerged from the sacristy only to see the knights blocking rounds of gunfire with their tower shields. He quickly took cover behind the doorway. “MADRE DI DIO! Boris! Fire your shield!”

“Finally!” The knight exclaimed as he stepped out of the other doorway. His shield was vastly different from the others, being a portable cannon in the shape of a large heater shield. His hammer was special in that it served as the ignition mechanism for the projectile. Infusing it with fire, Boris slammed it on the shield. A loud explosion rang out as an iron ball rocketed towards the upper floor, severely damaging its structural integrity. The gallery collapsed, causing the cultists to fall to the ground with a thud. “BULLSEYE!” Boris proclaimed.

“Well done, Boris…” Saul remarked, a little frazzled. “Reckless, but I’ll take it. Claudius, what’s your status?”

“Almost done, Captain. The last lock to the vault is being undone as we speak.”

“Good. The sooner we… hold on.” A third cultist was evading some of the soldiers, unaware of who he was about to run into. Saul rammed his massive shield into him, knocking the cultist out cold. The soldiers promptly hauled the individual out of the church.

“Claudius! The vault’s open!” A soldier called out.

“Eccellente! Take whatever there is and get it out of here!”

About a block away, Barna was waiting with the detonator. Accompanying him were Albrecht, Weaver, Gabriella, and Aureolus. Everything was nerve racking given that the smallest problem could screw everything up. The idea of Milosh skulking about did not help either. Barna was incredibly nervous himself, gritting his teeth as he waited for the all clear. Aureolus noticed this unease, figuring talking to him might help relieve the tension.

“So um, dad, how does that work again?”

This snapped Barna out of it. “Huh, what? Oh, this? Haha, well apparently it’s what they call “wireless,” relying on your magic to send a signal to the charges. Once it goes off, the explosives should ideally explode with a delay between each explosion. This should give us a nice, clean collapse with minimal collateral damage…” As he said this, one of the church’s spires fell to the ground.

Albrecht walked over to his side. “Assuming Saul and his men don’t collapse the church before we get to it, ha!”

“Aye yai yai, that’ll be a waste of explosives if they do… Any word on Dunja and the blades?”

“Yeah, Mom’s on her way here now.”

“Good. And The Fear is safe I presume?”

“Yup. He’s with Sten and Yngvild, being guarded by Maximus and Rumbler.”

Barna took a deep breath. “Very good…”

As he said that, Claudius approached with haste. “Barna, everything is set and the church is clear. Detonate whenever you’re ready.”

Everybody began encouraging him to press the button, but Barna hesitated. A grin formed across his face. “Hold up, someone’s here…”

Dunja came running up with Torunn, Andelin, and Gratiana. “Barna! Do it!” She said with urgency. “Milosh is…”

“HERE! AND READY TO PARTY!” He maniacally declared from a second story rooftop, surrounded by shadow constructs.

“I thought I smelled a rat…” Barna remarked. He then began laughing.

“WHAT’S SO FUNNY!?!”

“Oh, you’ll see in a minute…” Milosh’s attempt to be menacing would have been pathetically adorable, had it not been for the history between the two.

“That coward tried to stall us on the way here,” Torunn pointed out.

“Ah, a lovely menagerie of enemies and vile traitors I see!” Milosh declared. “What a shame, Gratiana. Looks like I’ll have to pluck you like the weed you…” He screeched as a magic spear shot by him, mere inches from his head. Gratiana had not even flinched.

“Had you uttered such blasphemy back in Feuerland, my father would have had your entire brood executed on the spot. The only reason why I don’t do it now is because Sten and Dunja deserve that honor.”

“AS IF!” Milosh barked back. “Go ahead, ransack my church! I’ll just rebuild it, bigger and better than ever! And once Lia gets back, I’LL RAZE ALL OF SHADOWLAND AND THE IRON CITY TO THE GROUND!” His laughter was truly unsettling, completely unhinged and psychotic. “My constructs are already on their way to the church, Barna! You’ve lost, you flea-ridden mutt!”

Barna shook his head and chuckled. “You see, Milosh, there’s one problem with your assessment: If you had at least one functioning piece of brain in that thick skull of yours, you’d realize you’re late to the party…”

He pressed the red button on the detonator, triggering the explosives. Everyone turned to watch the church falling to the ground in a cloud of dust and debris. A good portion of the shadow constructs were caught in the blast and collapse, wiping them out on the spot. Barna enjoyed Milosh’s dumbstruck look. It was satisfying to seal the zeal and fervor drain out of him. This reminded Barna of the day when he first took a young Corentin to school, as Milosh had a similar look on his face back then.

Despite all of Milosh’s huffing and puffing, it finally sank in: He had lost. That was it. The cult was dwindling, Dunja and the blades had turned against him, Lia was nowhere to be found, the shadow orb had been destroyed, all of the money was gone, and the church was nothing but a pile of rubble. He lost it. Milosh began screaming incoherently, gnashing his teeth, and stomping his feet like a petulant child. He then screeched at the shadow constructs to attack. Having become fed up with this nonsense, Barna roared with his inner beast at the fool, sounding like a bear crossed with a wolf. Milosh screamed and fled as fast he could.

With no one to command them, the remaining shadow constructs wandered aimlessly and attacked anything that moved. This made them easy to battle. Everyone got a piece of the action, with Dunja and Gratiana getting great catharsis out of it. Gratiana felt like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders as she shot spear after spear into the malignant creations. As for Dunja, it was truly a wondrous feeling knowing she could finally undo her past blunders.

As the battle continued, Aureolus noticed the constructs were starting to gang up on Gabriella. He raced over, hurling a flurry of fireballs that bounced all over the place. Albrecht then glanced over, noticing another group about to catch the two off guard. He called out, with Weaver heading the call in his beast form. Aureolus and Gabriella braced themselves, only for a torrent of magic lava to obliterate the attackers. One last construct was going to sneak up on Weaver, but Torunn caught it and pummeled it with her mace.

Eventually what remained of the constructs began to disperse. Andelin summoned Inkling and brought forth as many as she could, sending them after the fleeing constructs. The group then split up so they could cover more ground. Dunja chased after a few that were going off the beaten path. After wiping out two with her whip blades, she noticed one ducking into an alley. Following it led to a dead end with it looking like it was panicking.

“Just one more and this will all be over…” Dunja remarked as she approached with her blades ready.

“NO! PLEASE DON’T” it pleaded in an unnatural voice.

Dunja stopped, shocked by what had happened. “Wait, what did you just say?”

“Please, don’t kill me. I don’t want to hurt anyone…” It said as it began to sob. This construct was different from the rest. Whereas standard ones were all black and goopy, this one was sleek and had red patterns all over it.

“You’re not tricking me, are you?”

“No no, Haze would never do that…”

“Haze? You have a name? That’s a new one. Last time I checked, shadow constructs don’t have names…”

He chuckled and nodded. “Yes, my name is Haze. I saw a paper with that word on it and liked the sound of it.”

Dunja smiled. “So I trust you’re not loyal to that worm of a man then?”

Haze shook his head. “No, not at all. I never wanted to fight for him. I don’t know what I want, but that’s definitely not it.”

“Well aren’t you special then” Dunja commented. “As much as I regret crafting the shadow orb, I can’t be that callus and snuff out someone like you. Despite all the havoc I caused, at least something good came out of it. You can’t stay here though as things are pretty heated at the moment.”

“Then where should I go?”

Dunja thought about it for a second, then had an idea. She focused and presented a lilac flame to him. “Well firstly let’s give your soul a little substance. Second, go to The Magician’s Labyrinth and find Deimos, The Mage of Old. Ask him for help and tell him I sent you.”

“Alright! Thank you, Dunja!” Haze said as he took the flame into him. “I won’t let you down. Good bye!”

“See you later, Haze! And stay safe!” She called out as he flew off.

A few seconds later, Aureolus came running up, looking for Dunja. “Aunt Dunja, is everything okay?”

She smiled again. “Yeah. Just seeing someone off is all.”

He was confused. “Oh, um, alright then. Anyways, we need you at the church. Sten is going to show up to say some words on everything that’s happened.”

“I take it you guys dealt with the rest of the constructs?” Dunja asked as they began walking.

“Yup. Was that the last of them on your end?”

“Indeed, Aureolus. Thank the Source.”

The two made their way to the remains of the church, where everyone else was. The Knights and soldiers were directing workers in cleaning up the rubble. Torunn was addressing the crowd that had gathered with Andelin and Gratiana. Her main goal was to explain what had happened and make it clear that Gratiana wanted to turn over a new leaf. Barna was busy marveling at his work with Albrecht while Weaver and Gabriella were taking a breather. As for Claudius, he and Captain Saul’s squad were assisting anyone who was injured.

“We’ve come a long way, Aureolus,” Dunja pointed out.

“That we have, Dunja. I wish Blood could have been here to see all of this. Either way, I think he’ll be proud of me.”

Roughly ten minutes later, Sten showed up. He was escorted by Maximus and was followed by Folkvar, Yngvild, The Fear of Old, Fyodor, and the rest of his royal court. “Ladies and gentlemen, my fellow Shadowlandians; lend me your ears” Sten spoke, standing atop where the altar once stood. “Today we stand here victorious over the villains that tried to topple us!” This elicited a round of applause from the crowd. “The war is not over, but this battle has ended The Eternal Church once and for all. We stand stronger than ever before! And so many people have helped us in our time of need: The Schindewolf’s, The Craddock’s, The Raynot’s, The Pari’s, the brilliant Claudius Alfieri, Dunja and her mighty blades, the radiant Achasiah, the wise Deimos, The late Dragon of Old, and so many others. We owe them a debt of gratitude that cannot be repaid. Despite this, we can still do the right thing going forward. We shall not shut our doors to the outside world, but we will stand firm with clear minds in the face of adversity! On an ending note, I think it’s about time we rectify our lack of a day for celebration and reverence. Starting today, this day shall be known as Shadowland Day, commemorating our triumph over the forces of evil!”

The crowd cheered and applauded Sten’s words, feeling a renewed sense of vigor and pride. Sten was correct in that Milosh was still out there, but the people did not care. If that criminal ever showed his ugly mug again, they would stand their ground. Nothing could beat them now. Barna had also stepped up to say some words, followed by Dunja. They had as much stake in the conflict as Sten did, after all. It was truly one of the greatest days of their lives. There was rebuilding to be done, but it was nothing they could not handle.

Next: Chapter 25

ULTRAMagic Alternate © 2022 William Ford II (ChaoticTempleKnight)