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bluestar22x · 2 months

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Finding Eden: Chapter 3

Summary: You and Zach have a confrontation with the Canadian Border Patrol

Pairing: Zach Wellison x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Fowl language, violence, mentions of blood, hurt/comfort, pov changes

Word Count: 3,250(ish)

Author's Note: A little late posting this with my major writer's block and real life kicking my ass, but it's here!

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You weren't sure what you'd been expecting, but it wasn't what you'd found.

There was no river separating Washington state from Canada, no fence, no rock wall. Just a simple but obvious line of dirt and grass through the thick forest both countries shared. A line that had once been completely void of trees, but had quickly been invaded by young saplings and stubborn weeds that loved to grow just about anywhere.

You only knew it had been treeless once because Zach had told you so.

"You didn't know what the border looked like?"

"I never looked it up," you'd replied. "My family never visited Canada and my school never taught it."

He pursed his lips. "Huh, I always thought it was common knowledge."

You didn't think he'd intended to make you feel stupid, but you'd felt foolish anyway. Your eyes darted away from his, and you distracted yourself by stroking Athena's head as heat rose to the surface of your cheeks.

"Nightfall should be in a few hours," Zach pressed on, oblivious to your embarrassment. "We should catch some shut eye. It's going to be a long night."

Anxiety replaced your self-consciousness, something like dread sinking low into the pit of your stomach as you nodded at him in agreement.

Rest would make your mind sharper, and you knew you'd need all your brain power if you ran into trouble on the other side of the line.

Something in your gut told you it wouldn't be easy.

If only your gut hadn't been right.

Zach woke up to booming thunder and heavy rain, unpleasant sounds in any survival scenario, as far as he was concerned, but especially on that particular night.

A storm meant muffled sound. A storm meant a darker night. A storm meant boot prints that could be followed.

"Maybe we shouldn't leave tonight," you murmured as you sat up beside him, still in your sleeping bag just as he was.

"The longer we stay here, the more we risk being noticed by a border patrol officer," Zach stated with a sigh. "And I don't wanna turn back. Let's wait for the rain to slow down and head out."

"Okay," you said quietly with no hint of a protest.

It bothered him, how quickly you'd come to trust his judgement in less than a week. He didn't feel worthy of it. Not that night.

He'd never tried to cross a border illegally before, had never done anything illegal back when it mattered. Even when he'd thrown fists while he was living out on the streets, it had always been in self defense. He'd always had a temper, but he had managed to restrain himself most of the time to avoid attention from law enforcement.

Technically he had broken one rule because he had loitered many times, but fuck that law. He'd always thought it was just used as an excuse to shoo homeless away like they were unsightly vermin, even though during after hours there were no customers to scare away.

He knew how to be sneaky, it was part of his training in the marines, and he'd put it to good use on the streets so he could linger in places people didn't want him to in order to stay warm, but this was different.

He was going into hostile territory, the kind where he could end up dead, and he had no real back up. You were solely relying on him to get you both to safety and he felt the weight of that responsibility. He was the one who'd suggested you come with him, after all.

At least you knew how to handle a gun.

You dozed back off while waiting for the weather to calm, Athena's head resting on your covered ankles, also asleep, but Zach stayed wide awake, his nerves stealing away any drowiness that had been left in him.

Nearly an hour later the downpour turned into a drizzle and the thunder quieted into the background.

He shook you awake gently. "Time to go."

You nodded at him drowsily and for a brief moment he could see fear flash in your eyes before you masked it with bravery. For some reason it made him feel proud.

Neither of you talked much as you shoved your belongings back into your bags, packed up the tent, and scarfed down some cold canned veggies once again before making your short trek to the border.

Standing inches from the invisible line drawn through the stripped down patch of forest, apprehension stole Zach's breath. His eyes darted towards your form beside him, your company now a reassurance, and he found your eyes watching him, the same emotions he felt mirrored in them.

"Ready?" he questioned, not sure if he was asking you alone or also himself.

You gave him a curt nod. "Ready."

Together, shoulders almost brushing, you made the crossing.

You found immediate relief when you entered the thick growth of trees on Canada's side of the border, but you did not allow yourself to fully relax. At any moment you could come across a mounted officer riding along the line and you knew full well the interaction would not be pleasant if you and Zach were caught, even if your lives were spared. If.

Canada had been hit hard during the third war and the following years, but it hadn't become lawless like the United States. In fact, it had become more strict, and their government had a zero tolerance law for anarchists. Since they'd deemed most Americans anarchists after the riots, they would not let any into their country without heavy vetting that made it basically impossible for them to be permitted to do so, nevermind gain citizenship.

To the Canadian border patrol, it was much easier to shoot an American than go through the trouble of vetting them. Especially if they were crossing illegally.

The oversaturated ground squelched under your boots but the sound was thankfully muffled by the pitter patter of rain that was still coming down.

Your lungs ached from how often your breaths were catching and you had to remind yourself to breathe without gasping when you remembered how to properly do so.

You let Zach lead the way, giving him a yard's gap, but both your weapons were out, ready to be fired if need be.

He was as tense as you were, alert even more so, eyes constantly scanning your surroundings, peering into the dark forest intensely despite not being able to see much without a moon or stars to light the night.

You didn't see or hear your worst fear until it was too late.

"Hey!" A man shouted in the distance as you, Zach, and Athena were ambling over the first two lane road you'd come across since entering the country.

You snapped your head in the direction of the voice, spotting a uniformed middle aged man on a large black horse charging at you from a quarter mile down the road.

Your mouth went dry and like a deer in headlights you froze, even though your mind was screaming at you to run. Even though you could hear Athena barking in warning.

Three pairs of eyes and ears and the patrol had still managed to notice you first.

Stupid storm.

You felt Zach yank your right arm hard, dragging you into the cover of the evergreen forest, and your legs started functioning again, pumping hard to keep up with his longer strides.

The thick brush didn't stop the mounted officer from trailing you, his horse barreling through the branches in their path at an alarming speed. You didn't look back, but you could hear the horse's hoof beats getting louder and louder.

The horse and rider were closing in when you crashed into Zach, who had suddenly halted in front of you.

"Why'd you stop?" you nearly screamed, panicked.

He was starring ahead, hands raised, his gun slung over his shoulder uselessly, and your eyes tracked to where he was looking.

Another mounted officer, this one on a chestnut horse, was blocking your path from a few yards off, his shotgun aimed at Zach's chest.

"Where did you think you were going?" the second man growled furiously.

Zach's eyes darted away from him briefly, to his left, and you noticed the thick brush there, just as you assumed he had.

He tugged on your sleeve in the same direction, confirming it without words. Giving you a heads up in one quick gesture. Warning you about what he was going to ask you to do.

"RUN!" he shouted.

You both bolted for the brush, and you heard the second officer's shotgun discharge. You flinched instinctively but kept going. More shots rang out.

Everything was a blur around you as you ran for your life, breaths puffing out of you painfully, heart pounding against your rib cage.

You could hear both patrol officers shouting to each other and their horses' snorts as they struggled to maneuver their massive bodies through the dense foliage, the trees' bendy branches snapping back into their riders' faces and chests painfully as they weaved around their trunks.

You tripped over a loose rock almost as big as your foot and felt your ankle flare with pain, but you pushed yourself to keep going, knowing that if you stopped to rest it you wouldn't have time to heal before a bullet was embedded in your head or chest.

Luckily it didn't hurt for long.

Your ankle was better by the time you and Zach reached a cliff side a few minutes later. However, while you were more than ready to speed around it in an attempt to put more distance between you and the officers on horseback, he was looking up.

"If we can climb this, we'll lose them," he told you confidently.

"We don't have climbing gear."

He pointed at a dip in the rock, a path that slowly winded up the cliff. It couldn't be natural, but it must've been made a long time ago, judging by the weathered state of the gray rock.

You pursed your lips, unconvinced. "I'm never this lucky."

"Let's go."

Zach stepped ahead of you to start the climb but you halted him, arm out, mouth agape. You'd finally noticed the patch of dark crimson seeping through his shirt at his left shoulder.

"Did you get shot?" you asked in dismay. You felt a swoop in your stomach, as if it had dropped.

"It went through and through," he answered through gritted teeth. "I'll survive."

"Not if we don't get that bleeding to stop," you hissed, forcing yourself to stay quiet when you wanted to shout. "I'm watching the blood stain on your shirt grow in real time."

"Can't stop here," he insisted. "We've got to get higher up first."

You gave him a disapproving look but allowed him to continue forward, knowing that arguing with him would not accomplish anything. He had that stubborn look in his eyes many people got when they'd made their final decision.

The path was narrow, maybe six inches across, but you were able to follow Zach up slowly with Athena tailing you. Everyone, even the dog, was careful as you all made your way to higher ground. You made sure not to look down the entire time, not wanting to risk your old fear of heights suddenly springing forth.

You were about five minutes in and the rain had just ceased when you reached a flat area carved into the rock big enough for a couple small tents to fit, the perfect stopping point, and it wasn't a moment too soon.

Zach had just managed to wrestle Athena out of view of the ground below when the mounted officers found their way to the cliff.

"They must've gone up there!" the second one exclaimed.

"Fuckin' Americans," you heard the first one grumble. "Forget them. The horses can't get up there and I'm not waiting them out in this damn forest all night. We'll call it in."

The second one hummed his agreement and you breathed a sigh of relief when you heard the sound of their horses' hooves fading as they trotted off.

You were so relieved you forgot Zach was injured until he prompted himself up against the backside of the tiny safe zone and groaned loudly.

When you glanced at him his eyes were closed tight, painfully. He was holding his right hand to his wound, trying to put as much pressure on it as possible in his current state. He looked far too pale and shaky for your liking.

You knelt beside him quickly, shrugging your backpack off to search for the medical supplies you'd had on you for weeks. You scrambled to pluck out all the items you thought you could use to treat his wound. Your filled spare water bottle, a few packaged gauze pads, medical tape, medical bandages, and a tiny set of scissors.

You'd never dressed any wound before, let alone a bullet wound, but you'd watched enough reality medical shows back in the day to have picked up a few things.

"Need to take off your shirt," you informed Zach.

"Not even gonna let me take you out on a date first?" he quipped, choking on a chuckle.

"We've already had several meals together and shared a tent the past five nights," you stated, playing into his jest, knowing his type. You'd been raised by one after all. "Don't be shy now."

He gawked at you for a second, surprised by your engagement in his banter, then broke out into a weak grin. "Shy is definitely one thing I'm not."

He nodded at you to go for it and you carefully unbuttoned the olive green button down shirt he'd put on the previous morning before gently removing the damp clothing from his body and setting it down on a boulder beside you as he automatically covered his injury with his right hand again.

"Let me see," you ordered him as you peeled his hand away from it.

The blood had already slowed down quite a bit, a promising sign, but you'd still need to take care of both sides of his wound to minimize the chance of it getting infected.

You used the water on it first, not being shy about pouring the whole bottle out over Zach's damaged shoulder. He winced but took it silently, watching as you worked.

You taped a couple squares of gauze pads onto his exit wound then the front after drying the area off with a clean cotton cloth, or as clean as it could be hanging out in your pack. The final touch was the ACE bandage you wrapped around both his upper arm and across his chest a few times. A technique for bandaging shoulders that you hoped would add enough pressure to completely stop the bleeding and stabilize his arm long enough for it to begin healing.

"Not bad," Zach decided after examining your handiwork. "You ever take a First Aid class?"

"Nope, learned that from the Health channel," you declared.

He gave you a crooked smile. "Who says TV was just mindless entertainment?" He glanced down at the bandage again. "Thanks."

"No big deal," you said. "Least I could do after everything."

Your eyes fell on his bare upper body and for the first time since you'd removed his shirt you dared to let them linger, noting his shaved broad, carved chest and lean waist. Your friends in high school had once called men like him Dorito shaped, and you all had found it very appealing. You still did, finding it necessary to swallow before you could look at his face again.

Your mouth was dry when you spoke. "Do you have any shirts in your pack that might be more clean than the others?"

"The gray Henley," he replied.

You searched his pack for it, slowly helping him ease into it, then his fleece jacket, trying to ignore the jump of his biceps under your fingertips as you did so.

"I'm going to pitch the tent," you informed him after, in a tone that didn't allow room for arguing. "Stay put for now. Let the bandage do its job." You glanced over to Athena and pointed at Zach. "Make sure he doesn't get up yet."

The dog stoically ambled over to his side and laid down against his right hip, head resting on her paws, but eyes still wide and alert.

"Good dog," you murmured.

"That she is," Zach agreed proudly, curling his right arm around her, dried bloody hand and all. "You sure you don't want any help?"

"I know how to set up a tent," you told him. "I need you around for other reasons. So rest up."

"You say that like it'll be easy with a throbbing shoulder," he muttered before shutting his eyes, and you had to wait and observe his chest quietly rising and falling a few times before you were assured enough that he would be alright to turn your focus to the tent.

It took you a while to pitch it by yourself, you'd never done it alone before, but you managed with your limited limbs and knowledge.

Once it was finished and you had switched into a dry orange cotton shirt and a jean jacket you'd found before you met Zach, you strolled over to him. At some point he had actually fallen asleep, despite the pain he was in. You squatted down next to him and woke him with a small squeeze to his right arm.

"Still got an hour or so before dawn," you estimated as his eyes fluttered open. "Let's get into the tent where it's warmer and sleep a little longer."

He mumbled his agreement and you assisted him up onto his feet, letting him lean on you a bit, his legs still a little shaky from the blood loss.

He was so warm you shivered once he parted from you to crawl into his sleeping bag. Not even your own bag could keep the night's chilly damp air from seeping into you again and your teeth were chattering after a few minutes of lying there in the dark. You were tempted to go outside and start a fire, but you didn't want to attract unwanted attention with the smoke. You didn't want the officers to know exactly where you were.

Zach was sound asleep again, clearly too exhausted to be conscious for long, but Athena noticed your shaking and stood so she could snuggle up against you instead of her usual spot right in the middle of you both. You smiled as she plopped down practically on top of you before turning over and burying your nose into her neck.

You did your best to not allow your lips to quiver as her body heat warmed you back up and your mind recounted the night's events with all its horrifying highlights.

You were safe. Athena was safe. Zach was alive and already looking healthier, though he was still weak and in a lot of pain. Your trio being alive was all that mattered. That and the fact that the officers would not be there to trail you in the morning. You repeated those assurances in your head over and over like a mantra.

Eventually you repeated it so much the tears that had threatened to fall dried under your closed eyelids and you were able to slip into a dreamless sleep.

Athena didn't budge the entire time you slept.

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Tagged: @morallyinept @harriedandharassed @love-affair-with-fandoms @captain-jebi

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Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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#Zach Wellison #Brothers & Sisters #Zach Wellison Fanfic (Mine)#Brothers & Sisters Fanfic #X Reader #Finding Eden Series

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unknownmusing · 1 year

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Baldur's Gate - Halsin x Astarion Fanfic: 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' - Prologue 1 to 3 (Act 1) (Spawn Astarion and Ascended Astarion Route)

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Note:

Spawn Astarion and Ascended Route will start with same prologue then it will be separate chapters as rest of fic progresses to represent both routes

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Notes:

A Baldur's Gate: Halsin x Astarion fic inspired by the game Baldur Gate 3 and watching ongoing playthrough of it on Youtube

Slight canon diverge with some made up Background stuff for Astarion and other characters

WIP mode as use the wiki fandom and playthroughs to get idea of characters

Title refers to how Astarion and Halsin join up with the rest of the *company ( *will be introduced in later on chapters) but also travel a path together which leads to something more.

Starts off with Astarion's P.O.V

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Prologue - 'A Pale Elf in a Grove' (1 of 3)

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Location - Emerald Grove, Western Heartlands, West Faerun - Approaching Early Morning

Astarion's P.O.V:

"Is Halsin a fool?!!! Why has he brought this 'thing' here!!!?"

"I do not know….it greatly concerns….Archdruid Halsin!!!… We…..yes…..we understand…."

Voices.

Whispering amongst themselves before going silent, footsteps fading into the distance of somewhere which smells moist, lush and fresh - like it's not been tainted by any pollutants - and movement of something large, warm and furry choosing to lay down beside me.

Why couldn't I remember what had happened? What even had happened? Had I been attacked by someone or something?

Those questions remain swirling around my aching head - like I been hit by something very heavy and large - that it is difficult to even force myself to wake up so can check my surroudings, only sink into deeper sleep like I'm being made to do it to help me heal. So different when my Master Cazador treated me - his more of punishment so cruel, unkind and harsh it border on machositic that he didn't really care how many times he hurt me.

I must have whimpered because a soft chuffing noise comes from the large, warm furry thing beside me with wet snout nudging me to force me to roll onto my side to face into a warm furry belly and chest of what scenting register is in fact bear at least I think it is. I want to wake, I need to wake.

But the drowiness is settling in so fast, a soothing calming wave washing over me that find myself relaxing for the first time in centuries, allowing myself to fall asleep against the warmth of the large bear beside me.

TIME SKIP

"Hnngh…..Gaahhh!!!?" It is the sensation of sunlight from above burning it's way up my exposed arm which forces me very rudely awake from the deep, healing slumber I had been placed under trying to get up when realise a large, muscular arm - human?…. No….scenting the air…..again….a Wood Elf - is over my waist effectively trapping me against a very muscular, large and naked Wood elf bearing a tattoo mark on one side of his face and horredenous, but oddly enough appealing scars from no doubt from being attacked on his face as well.

Concerned about promixity of our bodies, I shuffle my lower half backwards away from the Wood elf's groin area only to give out a yelp when the large hand which has been around my waist immediatly yanks me flush against the large, muscular chest forcing me to place both my hands on it - or more accurately on top of the Wood Elf's pecs on both their dusky hued nipples to my embarassment even though this unnamed Wood elf does look like a fine specimen.

The sudden hiss of sunlight touching my exposed skin causes me to thrash soon in their grip, managing to wriggle free to quickly roll over to the shadows.

Collapsing slump up against a base for a statue of a wolf carved from stone, I wince at the stinging ache from the sun-burn on my arm hoping my healing factor kicks in, only to notice the wood elf has woken up looking straight at me.

"It's alright, I won't harm you." the wood elf says, voice so deep, husky and soothing it sends a strange shiver through me at the sametime that luring scent of his sweet, smelling blood reaches me.

It is so tempting, I don't realise I prowled out of the shadows into a shaft of sunlight until I'm scrambling back into them cursing myself with my fangs unsheathing themselves, steam still rising from the sun-burnt wounds until finally wisping away and bits of my burnt skin turned to ash to flutter to the ground

"I…need you….to stay just there…" I warn them, only for them to ignore my warning coming over to kneel down in front of me taking hold of my wrist to pull my arm out straight investigating the damage, seeing when I turn my face to one side to wince with eyes slipping shut or peeking open slightly to watch what he's doing.

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Notes:

Title refers how unexpected emotions begin to form in Astarion that he's not used to and how he loses control to them and Halsin the same.

Third part will deal with introducing the Leader of the Party and their background, plus the start of the Mindflyer attack then moving into Act 1

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Prologue (2 of 3) - 'Losing Control to Unexpected Emotions Rising within One'

Location - Emerald Grove, Western Heartlands, West Faerun - Early Morning

Astarion's P.O.V:

Halsin – as the Druid or Archdruid to be precise of Emerald Grove is called – is an enigma of a Wood Elf, with most of his time discussing about Nature, protecting the Grove and in his spare time doing mostly mundane things which some to admit were interesting to know about:

his whittling of little carvings of animals so detailed it actually fascinated me to watch from afar doing his work; seeing him resist the temptation of honeyed treats being sold by travelling merchants that couldn’t resist haggling with them to include more of new variations every-time they came back to just watch his eyes sparkle and pretend he’s not drooling over them and finally, seeing him in his bear form allowing children to ride on his back.

Looking over to where he’s discussing something highly important with another Druid – a female Half-elf called Jaheira, who keeps on flicking her gaze over to me wariness showing in her eyes - probably about myself.

Deciding not to hang around, I keep myself to the large grove's shadows, avoiding the spots of sunlight to head to the extensive cave-system of the Emerald Grove.

Within the cave-system, I make my way down towards the halfling merchant - Arron - located nearby a Altar busy checking his wares he's ascertained from his travels.

He stiffens though, ears twitching side to side then turns his gaze to look at me leaning up against a rock pillar in the shadows causing him to give out a ‘Tch, it’s you’ turning to face me where crosses his arms over his chest.

“I told you already, Pale Elf, if you want to sample my wares find out who’s pickpocketing around here.” Arron states, forcing me to raise an eyebrow because it sounds like he's accusing me of being the one doing it.

"And you think I have something to do with it. Heh, I would not resort myself to such lowly act." I state back, slipping myself away deciding I need to go hunting to distract myself from the mutiple heartbeats that head up to the main entrance.

Reaching where the gate is, I stop myself just in time.

The sun has risen at it's highest peak meaning the gate area is completely flooded with light leaving no shadows for me to use to reach it.

Choosing to lean up against a pillar, I find myself looking over at it trying to ascertain whether make a dash for it or wait until nightfall to go hunting for Prey.

Tilting my head backwards, my mind floods to fact I've not felt any sense of my Master Cazador trying to will me back to the Lair where I took lured Prey - most ended up dead and flung into giant pit, others turned in Spawn like me or completely disappeared that even asking would have risked the ire of him so never asked.

"You seem lost in thought, silver-tongue." the disdaining, dripping tone of the female druidess half-elf Jaheira reaches my ears, I lower my head down un-leaning myself from the pillar I brush past her quickly refusing to even acknowledge when find myself suddenly yanked backwards by a glowing tendril of energy straight into large area of sunlight I'd been trying to avoid.

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“Jaheira, what have….you done…!!!?”

“You are too soft, Halsin. We cannot trust this, silver-tongue. You must have noticed how ‘it’ avoids the shadows!!!”

“That I already know. It doesn’t mean you act irrational by doing what you did.”

Shuddering into wakefulness, the first thing to reach my nostrils is the scent of wildflowers – a mixture of so many it takes time to list – with my eyes fluttering open to reveal I’m lying naked in a on a bed of vines and wildflowers entwined together in a cocoon with no sunlight penetrating it.

My acute hearing had picked up Halsin berating until finally blessed silence with me having to use my Predator senses to see how many heat signatures are outside of the healing cocoon – only one – with a gap appearing to reveal the large, wood elf.

Realising he may see the circular scar on my back, I try to move myself only for so much agony to shoot through my body I curl into myself with my bandaged hands wrapping around my bandaged waist shaking so much at it.

“Hgnnnhh…..shit…..shit…..”

Cursing under my breath, biting my bottom lip along with his large hands rolling me onto my back – checking me over – until finally a soothing healing wave from both his hands spreads over me. He is leaning over me in the process, I find myself eying the throbbing, pulsing vein in his neck that pumps his lifeforce within his body.

“Is something wrong?” He asks me, so suddenly I don’t know how to give a proper answer to him which may convince him I'm just appreciating his body and not his blood flowing in his veins.

"I…..umm…may I taste…." I begin to ask, only for him to sit back resting his hands on his lap finishing my sentence. "…to taste my blood." it makes me scramble upwards needing to leave only for him to take hold of me turning my chin to force my face into the crook of his neck.

"Drink."

A command, but not a forced, soft and gentle with myself fully turning in his arms to rest up against his large, muscular chest slipping my hand up cradle the back of his head to tilt his head backwards by his soft, hazel brown locks.

Fangs unsheathing themselves, I sink them straight in hearing him give out a stiffening grunt at it knowing he will react to the venom which will give a numbness and pleasured feeling to the Prey being subdued.

All is quiet, except for occasional soft grunts coming from each-time I take a sip of his blood until finally his large arms are pushing me back seeing how drunk I've become on the taste on it - a blush rising on my cheeks, lips coated still in some of it, that it is so addicting it is feat in me trying to avoid going back for more.

Instead, moving myself over him and placing one hand on his chest to push him down to lay flat on his back noting his hazel brown eyes ringed with gold looking up at mine. Putting my hands either side of his head, I bend down my head down to rest my forehead against his wondering should I do it, licking my lips.

“Thank you.” I tell him, finding weird saying it because I’m not used to saying it – I been ingrained in Master Cazador’s rules and have already broken one – before sealing my lips over his, feeling him stiffening underneath me only to respond with soft, equal fervour it is something part of me wants and other is rebelling at it.

I try to pull away, but he pulls me back into devouring my mouth with his own – lips changing position each-time to deepen the kissing between us both, his tongue flicking across them begging admittance so allow for it to happen.

My whole body quivers up against him.

The sensation of his large hands wrapping around my body, one cradling the back of my head and other resting on my back with his warm, moist tongue entwining with mine inside and outside my mouth makes me want to pull away from him.

Managing to release my lips from his, I gasp breathlessly with my face turned to one side willing myself to calm down - use the seductive techniques I use for Prey to take back to Cazador on him.

“Astarion…..look at me.” Halsin says, voice husky with arousal making me turn my face to look up at him seeing how affected he is – his pupils dilated, lips still swollen from our kissing and no doubt his aroused below – then continues to speak. “I…. don’t whether I can control myself in what happens next.”

Bringing both my hands up to cup his cheeks, looking up into those hazel brown eyes ringed gold I realise what is happening to me - I'm losing control to unexpected emotions rising up within me.

And it is frightening me.

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Notes:

Connected to Prologue (2 of 3) - 'Losing Control to Unexpected Emotions Rising within One'

Introducing Asdalen - a drow elf with Dark Urge Origins and also Halsin's Half-brother (more will be explained about that later in further one chapters) and Lesia, his adopted fae child; Asdalen will be the main leader of the party and romance partner will be Gale.

What happens to Astarion and Halsin will be told in flashback.

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Prologue (3 of 3) - 'When an Unexpected Event Separates Those Close to Others'

Location - Baldur's Gate, Sword Coast, Western Heartlands - 'Whispering Weave' Tavern near the Harbour - Approaching Mid-Morning

12 DAYS LATER

Making my way through the streets of Baldur's Gate towards the 'Whispering Weave' Tavern, I keep an eye on Lesia who is running ahead - her wispy fae form so different from the various Baldurians and other travellers walking back and forth - of me.

My mind is thinking about my half-brother Halsin - an Archdruid of the Emerald Grove located in the Western Heartlands, Western Faerun - knowing it's been quite some time we have met up to discuss things or even talk properly.

Approaching the Tavern, which is near the Harbour, I see two people are walking down towards it - though one of them seems to be keeping mostly to the shadows I notice and the other I recognise is Halsin, who spotting me goes to say something when I finally reach the both of them only to bite his bottom lip which his companion notices before flicking his gaze over to me.

Lesia, spotting Halsin runs up to him to greet him and hold out her little hands to be lifted up by him.

I wait to see whether he will do it, part of me - an unknown, uncontrolled side whispers, 'Kill them both' and other horrendous things - and the more rational side - though don't know how long it will last - knows he can't deny her.

Finally, he bends down to lift her up, surprising his silvery white-haired companion beside him that approach though still with caution because it's been quite some time since seen him.

"Hello, little one." Halsin says, smiling softly with his companion - keeping to the shadows - admiring in their own way until finally turns their gaze to me.

Behind the white-bone mask I wear to cover my face a strange, prickling sense that I'm being analysed by a Predator hits me.

My own unknown Predator's senses soon wanting to confront back and tear their throat out.

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

Astarion’s P.O.V:

Coming back to Baldur’s Gate after twelve days, I know at some point Cazador will send out my ‘siblings’ to collect me but he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to do so as myself and Halsin walk through the marketplace close to the Harbour.

Stopping in the shadows of archway, Halsin turns to face me when sees I seem to be not my usual self – my body tone is showing wariness – so brings a hand up to cup my cheek to reassure me everything is alright with him being here for me.

Immediately resting my forehead against his, hands moving to rest own on his large, muscular chest it makes me realise the twelve days and nights we’ve shared together – his soft, breathless kisses he will give me; reassuring me when nightmares overwhelmed and finally, making sure my bloodthirst is sated – it has felt like freedom.

“I…don’t want to leave you….just yet….” I admit, knowing we must go our separate ways with him heading back to the Emerald Grove and myself back to my ‘prison’ kissing him soon on the lips where he uses his other hand to pull me flush up against him.

Around us the noises of the Harbour and the Marketplace reach my ears – Market stallers shouting out the wares; dock workers heading up and down ramps on ships delivering various goods back and forth and Baldurians going about their daily lives – but I’m not listening to it, just relaxing to kiss my ‘Mate’ is giving me.

Finally pulling back from it, licking my lips at his taste, I smile softly up to him slipping one hand down to clasp my fingers with his, while we soon begin to make our way to the Tavern called 'Whispering Weave' to share a last moment drink before going our separate ways.

Discovering that Halsin had a ‘brother’ of some kind is unexpected, because he never mentioned anything about having a family until now so meeting them – who wears long black thief clothing with hood included, plus bone-white mask hiding their face – along with a little fae child called Lesia, it is taking me some time to try and make sense of them.

I can tell they are like me almost – a Predator fighting their own instincts to attack the presence of another Predator in front of them.

Deciding to introduce myself is the better option of being silent and not saying anything to them.

“You have a beautiful child.” I comment, making them turn their gaze to me.

Body language still showing signs of wariness but relaxing enough to respond back to me.

“She’s….Thank you…Umm…” they begin to say, allowing me to introduce myself. “…Astarion Ancunin, a pleasure to meet you…”

“Asdalen.” They nonchalantly reply, causing Halsin to lower the little one wanting to say something but closes his month instead like he knows it may not help the both of them.

Torn between the awkwardness I’m sensing rising between them both, I decide to relieve it by deciding to say something which is mundane yet helps "I'm famished. How about we all get a bite to eat and all have a good chat together. Maybe even hear some of your lute music, Asdalen.' clapping both my hands together seeing how Lesia jumps up and down at hearing the words 'bite to eat' pulling her adopted father's sleeve.

Halsin having composed himself, slips his arm around my waist to pull me against his side and giving me a certain look of 'I didn't know you had an interest in music' it makes my chest ache at the look he gives me. The sudden thought is that I want to know everything about him - how he become Archdruid, what was his childhood like, how did he find out about his brother - and his brother.

Repair what feels like a fragile relationship between them which could easily be broken anytime.

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

Location - Baldur's Gate, Sword Coast, Western Heartlands - 'Whispering Weave' Tavern near the Harbour - Mid-Morning

Asdalen’s P.O.V:

“Have you been travelling far?”

“Only to certain areas. There’s been some places refusing travellers entry.”

Drunken laughter, chatter and clinking of mugs fills the air with myself and Lesia sitting with Halsin and Astarion in an alcove at the far back of the Tavern where Astarion sitting next to my half-brother is asking me about my travels.

Most of what I tell him is about how on my travels where noticed Missing Poster had been appearing a lot; some places were wary of new travellers due to whispers about raise of Cultists and more monsters beginning to appear in certain areas.

“I see. To admit, I’ve not noticed….that kind of thing due….” Astarion begins to say only tail off, taking a sip of the wine he’s ordered with Halsin moving a hand to place it over his – squeezing it lightly to reassure the pale, High elf who gives weak smile.

‘You’ve been hiding in the shadows for too long.’ I state internally, not saying it out loud lest the Gur Hunters sitting only a few feet away from where we’re sitting overhear and come over to investigate.

Halsin, is happy. A soft, warm glow Lesia describes it to me in silent communication which reassures my brother will be alright in the relationship he has with Astarion leaving me to think of one person who I miss the most – Gale Dekarios, my lover and chosen Mate.

Where is he now?

Is he coping?

Has he returned to Waterdeep?

“Bard, do you play?” A new voice asks of me, leaving the internal questions in my head unanswered, so turn my face to the source seeing a figure wearing fine refine stands there indicating to the lute in the holder on my back.

“I play, yes. It depends on the crowd though and what they would like to hear.” I reply, seeing the newcomer raise one delicate eyebrow in amusement at it. “And you…. what would you like to hear?” asking them a question back to them.

“Me?! Well, let’s see…” They reply, bringing one hand up to tap their chin in deep thought until give small smirk at me. “How about an original composition. I believe this one should suffice ‘Beautiful Voice of the Past’ for you, Bard.”

A violent visible shudder goes through me, Astarion placing his hand on my arm to pull me back down into my seat – I hadn’t realised I had stood up to confront the newcomer – my mind torn in how they knew about the song – a song I composed only for Gale and no-one else – and who played it.

“I don’t play it for crowds.” I whisper under my breath, voice breaking with so much emotion I get back up with Lesia sensing I need to leave allowing me to pick her up.

Politely excusing myself when brush past the newcomer, I weave through the patrons and tables to reach the main Tavern door or would have if it hadn’t been for sudden explosion sending myself and her still in my arms flying backwards over the Tavern bar into the alcohol drink-rack hard.

Followed by tinkling noise of smashed apart bottles of wine, beer and brandy to name a few.

The wooden shelf collapses under my weight, forcing my body to fall to the floor in wounded, bleeding heap of a mess with Lesia beginning to whimper in my arms – her little fae body fading in and out focus due to being very frightened of what is happening – seeing the blurred image of the Tavern patrons running out in all directions only to be cruelly snatched up by what appear to be Mindflyers.

Another explosion rocks the tavern, sending shockwaves through the floorboards which begin to crack and splinter in all directions – sending shards of wood flying in all directions – feeling below me the wooden floor give out on myself with Lesia being wrenched out of my arms by something leaving me to fall into the blackness of the underground cellar.

The faint roars of my Brother’s Wildshape, Lesia crying out my name again and again reach me with Astarion lunging himself towards the collapsed hole made by the falling floorboards to grab hold of my wrist trying in vain to pull me back up – even though I can see he’s struggling due the wounds he’s ascertained.

“Asdalen, quick…..give me your other hand before the next wave hits!!!? It seems to be full-scaled attack on Baldur’s Gate!!!? We need….NO!!!! GET THE HELL AWAY ME…!!!!?” He cries out, only to panic heavily looking over at something or someone I cannot see due to my disadvantaged angle.

A fast, but to me blurred, inky-black shadow speeds it's over to him in such a blink of an eye to knock him over to the other side, leaving me with nothing to grab hold onto to help pull me back up to safety.

Falling for quite some time, I finally reach the bottom of what turns out to be the underground lower cellar for the Tavern with sickening, bone-crunching thud – worse agony than what my own people, the Drows have done to me – it shatters everything instantly, finding myself going limp at it immediatly.

So, this is how I die?

Separated from my half-brother who just met again?

I never got to even tell him…..everything……

Halsin…..Astarion……Lesia…

My thoughts wander in my head, my body is lying shattered beyond compare and any chance of moving is not probable with how serious my injuries are from the shards of glass embedded in it and large wood splinters.

My blood can distantly feel is pooling out from underneath my body or over it to trickle off it to cover the cobbled stones of the cellar in various array of crimson petals.

The unknown, uncontrolled side seems to be gleefully laughing in my head at the demise – death by falling, shattering every bone in my body and allowing my lifeforce to drain away.

It's the last thing I hear before blackness swoops in dark like raven’s wings and I remember nothing thereafter.

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

#baldur gate 3 #astarion x halsin #emotional angst #slow-burn romance #canon divergence #Halsin saves Astarion #Astarion has trust issues #Falling in love #wip mode #Confessing about secrets #Prologue - 1 to 3 #fic snippet #Part 1 of 'Baldur's Gate: Halsin x Astarion Fic - 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' - (1 of ?)#pictures sourced from various sources #Spawn Astarion and Ascended Astarion Routes both have same prologue (1 of ?)#Chapters will be either tagged Ascended Astarion Route or Spawn Astarion Route as fic progresses #additional tags to be added #Part 1 of 'Love like Leaves on a Tree in Dappled Sunlight'#Part 1 of 'One's Baldur's Gate Fic Collection'

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theirishhalfling · 1 year

Photo

Time for another fakeshot, from when the party said their goodbyes to Tenebrae, the shadowy drow who they'd been carrying around as a helmet for a long while, but finally got him his body back. I think Watcher’s probably at least a little sad to part ways with Tenebrae, even if Tenebrae’s morals are... Questionable (just a bit of light vs dark romance?). He’d been with Watcher longer the cleric and fighter (and the barbarian and druid who went their separate ways), both of whom joined after Tenebrae was picked up. No idea of time in game, probably somewhere between half a year or a year, but he was picked up in session 31 and it was 93 when he went off to do drowy things.

#dnd #d&d #dungeons and dragons #drow #paladin #my art #watcher #tenebrae

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justalittlebluetiefling · 2 years

Text

We were so close to Drowy McFancypants.

“Is Fancypants the bad part? I thought Nancy was.”

JESTER

#i love her SO much #the mighty nein rewatch #cr2e70

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dragonfly0808 · 2 years

Note

Have you got any headcannons of Stella going through a seasonal depression and fatigue I always found it interesting how light and weather determined her health

Mmm, she might become drowy in the winter, she finds it hard to focus.

She uses her scepter more often since her power is ever so slightly impacted. She wants all the warm drinks, Flora is constantly making hot chocolate.

She knits and makes a lot of clothes almost accidentally while she’s feeling lazy. She cuddles Brandon, Sky and Bloom to death

#winx club #winx rewrite #winx #winx headcannon #winx stella #winx bloom #winx sky #winx brandon

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mysowa · 10 months

Text

Trująca chmura w Höchst EINE GIFTIGE WOLKE IN HÖCHST 20231112 CYWILIZACJE MISTYKI Studia Slavia et Khazarica von Stefan KOSIEWSKI Zniweczona Rzeczywistość Polnische Kriegsgräber Gewann E, Nr. 157 ZECh FO NWO^PPP TRYPTYK PUSTEGO OBŁOKU

Deutsch

POLSKI

English

sowa fee

CYWILIZACJE MISTYKI · 12. November 2023

EINE GIFTIGE WOLKE IN HÖCHST 20231112 SSetKh von Stefan KOSIEWSKI ZR Polnische Kriegsgräber Gewann E, Nr. 157 ZECh FO NWO^PPP

Audio:

patreon.com/posts/po-niemiecku-i-w-92810456

0:00 Przesuń pasek postępu

17:51

po niemiecku, polsku i rosyjsku:

21 godz. temu

TRYPTYK PUSTEGO OBŁOKU

I chmura chemicznych substancji sina jak trup rozciąga się w niedzielę 12 listopada 2023 nad zachodnimi dzielnicami Frankfurtu nad Menem robię fotki smartfonem, nagrywam film i zawieszam w Internecie na dowód przytomności zdrowego umysłu w trosce o zdrowie i życie moich bliźnich pół miliona ludzi wyszło wczoraj w Londynie przeciw zbrodni wojennej dziś parlamentarzyści Francji grzeją Paryż przeciw antysemityzmowi w dzielnicy Höchst >>Wielce zasłużonym dla rozwoju miasta i dobrobytu jego mieszkańców współzałożycielowi Höchster Farbwerke [Zakładów Chemicznych] Drowi Adolfowi von Brünnigowi 1837-1884 i jego żonie Klarze z domu Spindler 1846-1909 Przyjaciółce miasta i jego ubogich<< wznieśli fontannę na placu targowym przed synagogą >>...ku wiecznie zaszczytnej pamięci .:.wdzięczni obywatele miasta Höchst am Main MCMX<< 1910 roku, zaś MCMXLV 1945 roku sowieckie wojska weszły do opuszczonego obozu pracy KL-Auschwitz, filii Farbwerke Höchst

II Wznoszą kamienie i tablice radykalni lewacy młotkiem kują świadomość globalni trockiści: premier GB i minister wewnętrznych spraw nienawiść generują w ludziach niepodatnych na ich przewrotną mowę nienawiści izraelscy oficerowie Mosadu oprowadzają z karabinami wycieczki w PL rząd Morawieckiego, który ma trzy ciotki w Izraelu, potulnie zezwala na to rząd Scholza podwoi 2024 do 8 mld EUR finansowanie wojny na Ukrainie Panie Jezu, który na perfidny gaz bergoglenia faryzejskiego odpasałeś sznur i pogoniłeś nim the Holocaust Industry ze świątyni Ojca swego powąchaj jeno, uprasza Pana Boga pokornie modlitwą poeta, czy czujesz może w powietrzu zapach gorzkich migdałów podawanych po transmutacji za słodycz marcepanu; Nitrobenzol roztacza swą woń nad dzielnicą Höchst w której Poeta Polski na emigracji politycznej od stanu wojennego AD 1982 apeluje do perfidnego złoczyńcy: Nie będziesz robił geszeftów po trupach 528 Polaków i Katolików: Polnische Kriegrgräber Gewann E, Nr. 157

III

>>130 hr-text Sa 27.02.21 FRANKFURT PLANT KZ-GEDENKSTÄTTE Magistrat Frankfurtu zatwierdził w piątek budowę Centrum Pamięci w byłym obozie koncentracyjnym Katzbach w Adlerwerke Wezwano do tego około 30 lat temu w ramach inicjatywy [LAGG] Teraz planowanie może przejść do fazy koncepcyjnej. Burmistrz Feldmann (SPD) powiedział, że dawno powinno to być zrobione<< Na razie uprawomocnił się wyrok sądu skazujący kryminalistę Feldmann zapowiedział odwołanie się do Sądu Konstytucyjnego Polacy we Frankfurcie nad Menem odwołują się do nowego rządu w Polsce - O prawidłową realizację niemiecko-polskich traktatów Artykuł 32. Traktatu między Republiką Federalną Niemiec a Republiką Polską o dobrym sąsiedztwie i przyjacielskiej współpracy z 17 czerwca 1991 mówi, że polskie groby w RFN otoczone są szacunkiem i nie podlegają Holocaust Industry

PDF: mega.nz/file/yiYCwJzI#USnozQ6E4AGAq-tdkocpHqvlBKOLEjjKciVTX8MgBLc

Audio: gloria.tv/post/C8WBkVWegLNt6w7EXDMKUV6q1

PDF: Warsaw 1944 miasto ofiarowane nowej władzy M8 Warszawa M9 PDO316 Kaczyński FO von Stefan Kosiewski 20190803 ME SOWA Devyatov Diplomacy of Culture academia.edu/109125875/

Teraz planowanie może przejść do fazy koncepcyjnej. Burmistrz Feldmann (SPD) powiedział, że dawno powinno to być zrobione<< Na razie uprawomocnił się wyrok sądu skazujący kryminalistę Feldmann zapowiedział odwołanie się do Sądu Konstytucyjnego

Audio: mixcloud.com/stefan-kosiewski/warsaw-44-miasto-ofiarowane-nowej-wladzy-m8-warszawa-m9-kaczynski-fo-von-stefan-kosiewski-devyatov/

twitter.com/sowa/status/1724114033186378213

PDF: online.pubhtml5.com/icot/jlun/

ТРИПТИХ ПУСТОЕ ОБЛАКО

облако химика��ов, синее, как труп, простирается в воскресенье

12 ноября 2023 года над западными районами Франкфурта-на-Майне.

Я фотографирую своим смартфоном, записываю видео и выкладываю его в интернет как доказательство

здравого ума во имя здоровья и жизни моих ближних

вчера в Лондоне полмиллиона человек вышли на марш против военного преступления

сегодня французские парламентарии разогревают Париж против антисемитизма

в районе Хёхст >>Большое служение развитию города и благополучию

соучредителю Höchster Farbwerke [Химический завод

химического завода] д-ру Адольфу фон Брюннигу 1837-1884 гг. и его жене

Кларе, урожденной Шпиндлер, 1846-1909 Друг города и его бедняков<<

установили фонтан на рыночной площади перед синагогой >>...в вечную

вечной памяти... благодарных жителей города Хёхст-на-Майне

MCMX<< 1910 г., а MCMXLV 1945 г. советские войска вошли

в заброшенный трудовой лагерь KL-Auschwitz, филиал Farbwerke Höchst

Они устанавливают камни и мемориальные доски, которые радикальные левые вбивают в память

Глобальные троцкисты: премьер-министр Великобритании и министр внутренних дел ненавидят

которую они вызывают у людей, не восприимчивых к их извращенному языку ненависти

Израильские офицеры Моссада проводят экскурсии с винтовками в ЛП

правительство Моравецкого, у которого в Израиле живут три тетки, безропотно разрешает это

Правительство Шольца удвоит финансирование войны на Украине в 2024 г. до 8 млрд. евро

Господи Иисусе, который на вероломном газе фарисейской бергколлегии Ты опоясал веревкой и прогнал Холокост.

веревку и прогнал ею индустрию Холокоста из храма Отца Твоего

только понюхай, - смиренно просит поэт у Бога своей молитвой, - чуешь ли ты

может быть, в воздухе витает аромат горького миндаля, поданного после трансмутации

для сладости марципана; нитробензол распространяет свой аромат над районом Хёхст

в котором польский поэт, находящийся в политическом изгнании с момента введения военного положения 1982 года

обращается к вероломному злодею: Ты не будешь делать бизнес над трупами

528 Поляки и католики: Polnische Kriegräber Gewann E, Nr. 157

III

>>130 hr-text Sa 27.02.21 ФРАНКФУРТСКИЙ ЗАВОД KZ-GEDENKSTÄTTE

В пятницу магистрат Франкфурта одобрил строительство мемориального центра

Мемориальный центр на территории бывшего концентрационного лагеря Кацбах в Адлерверке

Эта идея была выдвинута около 30 лет назад в рамках инициативы [LAGG].

Теперь планирование может перейти в концептуальную фазу. Бургомистр

Фельдманн (СДПГ) сказал, что это должно было быть сделано уже давно.

На данный момент приговор преступнику вступил в законную силу.

Фельдманн объявил о подаче апелляции в Конституционный суд

Поляки во Франкфурте-на-Майне обращаются к новому правительству

в Польше - За правильное выполнение германо-польских договоров

Статья 32 Договора между Федеративной Республикой Германия и

Статья 32 Договора между Федеративной Республикой Германия и Республикой Польша о добрососедстве и дружбе

от 17 июня 1991 года гласит, что польские захоронения на территории Федеративной Республики Германия

пользуются уважением и не являются объектом "индустрии Холокоста".

twitter.com/sowa/status/1724114033186378213

Warsaw 1944 miasto ofiarowane nowej wladzy M8 Warszawa M9 PDO316 Jaroslaw Kaczynski.pdf

Trująca chmura w HÖCHST 20231112 CYWILIZACJE MISTYKI SSetKh von Stefan KOSIEWSKI Tryptyk PUSTEGO OBŁOKU.pdf

EINE GIFTIGE WOLKE IN HÖCHST 20231112 CIVILIZATIONS OF MISTAKE SSetKh von Stefan KOSIEWSKI ZR Polnische Kriegräber Gewann E, Nr. 157 ZECh FO NWO^PPP

Eine leichenblaue Wolke aus chemischen Substanzen zieht am Sonntag

12. November 2023 über den westlichen Stadtteilen von Frankfurt am Main

Ich fotografiere mit meinem Smartphone, nehme ein Video auf und hänge es ins Internet als Beweis für den

eines gesunden Verstandes zum Wohle der Gesundheit und des Lebens meiner Nächsten

gestern demonstrierten in London eine halbe Million Menschen gegen ein Kriegsverbrechen

heute heizen französische Parlamentarier in Paris gegen Antisemitismus ein

im Stadtteil Höchst >>Großer Verdienst um die Entwicklung der Stadt und das Wohlergehen der Menschen

an den Mitbegründer der Höchster Farbwerke [Chemiewerke

Chemischen Werke] Dr. Adolf von Brünnig 1837-1884 und seine Frau

Clara, geb. Spindler 1846-1909 Freund der Stadt und ihrer Armen<<

errichteten auf dem Marktplatz vor der Synagoge einen Brunnen >>...zum ewigen

ehrendes Andenken an ... die dankbaren Bürger von Höchst am Main

MCMX<< 1910, während MCMXLV 1945 sowjetische Truppen in das

in das verlassene Arbeitslager KL-Auschwitz, eine Außenstelle der Farbwerke Höchst

gab.com/sowamagazyn/posts/107725617847260444/

deutsche-wirtschafts-nachrichten.de/2013/05/15/giftwolke-nervositaet-bei-bewohnern-von-frankfurt 15.05.2013 08:15 Im Frankfurter Stadtteil Höchst hat sich ein Chemieunfall ereignet. Dabei war eine giftige Wolke der Substanz Nitrobenzol ausgetreten. Die Bewohner des Stadtteils mussten sofort Fenster und Türen verschließen. Mittlerweile wurde Entwarnung gegeben. Aber die Nervosität bei den Anwohnern bleibt.

industriepark-hoechst.com/de/stp/aktuelles/presse/ansprechpartner/

Katharina Rak

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+49 69 305-14502

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patreon.com/posts/piach-luszczenia-92318840

mysowa 1.3 tausend 6 November 2023 edited Satans Vipernstamm passt nicht in die Haut der alten Welt, die ihm zu eng ist EXUVIAE von Stefan KOSIEWSKI 20231106 ME SOWA Neue Weltordnung ^ Nach Pandemie Psychose Nullified Reality Über die Menschheit, die aus ihrer Haut kommt

Audio: gloria.tv/post/fyCjzih8QfoA2xt22LRYu4Dth

vk.com/album467751157_283824036

Sie errichten Steine und Tafeln radikale Linke hämmern Bewusstsein

globale Trotzkisten: der Premierminister von GB und der Innenminister hassen

den sie bei Menschen erzeugen, die für ihre perverse Hassrede nicht empfänglich sind

israelische Mossad-Offiziere, die in PL Führungen mit Gewehren durchführen

die Regierung Morawiecki, die drei Tanten in Israel hat, lässt es kleinlaut zu

Scholz-Regierung verdoppelt 2024 die Mittel für den Krieg in der Ukraine auf 8 Mrd. Euro

Herr Jesus, der du auf dem perfiden Gas der pharisäischen Bergoglenie den Strick umgürtet hast

Seil gegürtet und damit die Holocaust-Industrie aus dem Tempel deines Vaters gejagt

Riech nur, bittet der Dichter demütig Herrn Gott mit seinem Gebet, riechst du

vielleicht in der Luft den Duft von Bittermandeln, die nach der Verwandlung

für die Süße des Marzipans; Nitrobenzol verbreitet seinen Duft über den Stadtteil Höchst

in dem der polnische Dichter im politischen Exil seit dem Kriegsrecht AD 1982

an den perfiden Schurken appelliert: Du wirst keine Geschäfte über Leichen machen

528 Polen und Katholiken: Polnische Kriegräber Gewann E, Nr. 157

Audio: gloria.tv/post/ndxcov2X7wwS3pYTnrzF9mhA4

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PDF: POSTKRIPTOSIAN MAFIA in Qumran Polin CB28 SSetKh von Stefan Kosiewski ZECh philosophisch-lyrisches Epos Aristoteles PDO Prof. Micha Brumlik 20210308 ME SOWA Hochgeladen von Stefan Kosiewski Datum des Uploads am Feb 15, 2023

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III

>>130 hr-text Sa 27.02.21 FRANKFURT PLANT KZ-GEDENKSTÄTTE

Der Frankfurter Magistrat hat am Freitag die Errichtung einer

Gedenkstätte im ehemaligen Konzentrationslager Katzbach in den Adlerwerken

Dies wurde bereits vor rund 30 Jahren im Rahmen der [LAGG]-Initiative gefordert

Nun kann die Planung in die konzeptionelle Phase gehen. Oberbürgermeister

Feldmann (SPD) sagte, dies hätte schon längst geschehen müssen

Die Verurteilung des Straftäters ist vorerst rechtskräftig

Feldmann kündigte eine Klage vor dem Verfassungsgericht an

Polen in Frankfurt am Main appellieren an die neue Regierung

in Polen - Für eine korrekte Umsetzung der deutsch-polnischen Verträge

Artikel 32 des Vertrages zwischen der Bundesrepublik Deutschland und der

Republik Deutschland und der Republik Polen über gute Nachbarschaft und freundschaftliche Beziehungen

vom 17. Juni 1991 bestimmt, dass polnische Gräber in der Bundesrepublik Deutschland

respektiert werden und nicht der Holocaust-Industrie unterliegen

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Trująca chmura w HÖCHST 20231112 CYWILIZACJE MISTYKI SSetKh von Stefan KOSIEWSKI Tryptyk PUSTEGO OBŁOKU.pdf1.94 MbDownload

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Polnische Kriegsgräber Gewann Nr. 157 auf dem Hauptfriedhof in Frankfurt am Main

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Stefan Kosiewski linkedin.com/posts/stefankosiewski_stefan-kosiewski-do-ambasadora-marka-prawdy-aktivität-6776465061998297088-fdu5/

Stefan Kosiewski - Polnisches Kulturzentrum e.V.

PDF: lnkd.in/dsGYEXs

Stefan Kosiewski an Botschafter Marek Prawda über angebliche polnische Konzentrationslager

Veröffentlicht am 8. März 2011

Frankfurt 9. März 2011 Stefan Kosiewski, Polnisches Kulturzentrum e.V.:

Sehr geehrter Herr Botschafter, die Broschüre "Informationen zur politischen Bildung" Nr. 307/ 2010, die in einer Auflage von 800.000 Exemplaren von der Bundeszentrale für politische Bildung unter dem Titel "Jüdisches Leben in Deutschland/ Jewish Life in Germany" herausgegeben wurde, enthält auf Seite 59 eine mich als Polen in Deutschland beleidigende Lüge über die Existenz angeblicher "polnischer Konzentrationslager" während der Besetzung unserer Heimat durch das nationalsozialistische Deutschland von 1939-45.

Diese Lüge hat als Unterrichtsmaterial 800.000 Exemplare in deutschen Schulen erreicht und verunglimpft nicht nur deutsche Jugendliche in der Online-Ausgabe einer Broschüre, die auf die deutsch-polnische Aussöhnung zum 20-jährigen Jubiläum des Vertrages über gute Nachbarschaft und freundschaftliche Zusammenarbeit abzielt (...)

2021 Mär 13

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CB29 jüdische Band stahl in Frankfurt am Main 1996. "Polnische Kriegsgräber", die kollektive Kriegsgräberstätte von 528 Bürgern der Zweiten Republik Polen, Polen und Katholiken

Stefan Kosiewski an Botschafter Marek Pravda über angebliche polnische Konzentrationslager

PDF: issuu.com/kulturzentrum/docs/mafia_postkryptosyjonistyczna_w_qumran_polin_cb28_

Vor 2 Jahren - Öffentliche Veröffentlichung

linkedin.com/posts/stefankosiewski_trująca-chmura-w-höchst-eine-giftige-wolke-activity-7129673704225026048-Bm7a

Nov 13 00:13

EINE GIFTIGE WOLKE IN HÖCHST 20231112 CYWILIZACJE MISTYKI SSetKh von Stefan KOSIEWSKI ZR Polnische Kriegsgräber Gewann E, Nr. 157 ZECh FO NWO^PPP Trująca chmura w Höchst

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