pawnedprince

[pawnedprince]

he might have thought the ink still stained his fingers had it not been some weeks since he'd last wrote, even before she'd found him rotting away in that cell. she looks at him and it's like the whole world crumbles: feeling as though he's been shot the moment those golden hues find him, but oh so afraid that if he looks away she very well might disappear. he's stunned to hear vex respond in this way, all exasperation and matched confusion, and his gut twists. of course she had moved on, of course he was a fool to think otherwise. convenient distractions, that was all they'd been after all. all he'd ever been worth was a warm bed and to pick up the tab; he'd been proven that time and again. and now hans can't help but look away, eyes cast downwards like a show of defeat. like he's lost both the battle and the war.

there's no more running now, for either of them; they've reached the end of avoidance like a frayed rope. nothing left to do but let go. ❛ i don't ... i don't know. ❜ he could never think her heartless, no, not after appraising every inch of her, body and soul. not after drying her tears leaving syngorn. not after she appeared after all this time like a comforting specter — and yet she knew nothing? ❛ at first i thought something might have happened to you, but then i thought surely someone would have let me know, so then only logical assumption was ... ❜ the thought dies like a withering frost and the air is just that much colder. his face sinks into a hand, worn features aching and tired. oh how he longed to rest. hans slumps against the window, hand falling slack to his side as he looks to vex once more. somehow both a respite and a torment, twaining his heart right down the middle. the silence is heavy, pressure pushing down like an impending storm, and he cannot stand it.

❛ if you say you never got them, then you never got them. ❜ he can't even remember half the things he'd put to paper, or a fraction of what he might've confessed as both time and distance wore him down. but he does know that, despite it all, she's here now. ❛ i don't know how or why you came when you did. maybe it's fate, or just coincidence. ❜ his weary expression softens the longer he looks at her, and somehow — even in these familiar halls — he's never felt more at home. ❛ ... but that has to count for something. ❜

" write ?? " the word lands foreign on her tongue. what is he talking about ?? just as his expression twists in disbelief , hers does too in confusion. eyes meet for the first time in what had felt like hours since they stepped in here to have this private conversation ── brow drawn , her own searching for meaning. for anything. he wears this year like a burden , wears it deep in his bones as if it'd worn him hollow. with heavy shoulders and tired eyes that beg for something to end or for MERCY. " what do you mean- ?? " how many ?? how many had she missed , " no [ . . . ] no , what are you talking about ?? how could you believe i moved on after all of that ?? " because you have in the past ?? because you always do ?? because if there was something vex didn't keep , it was anything close. not when it could hurt. not when it could matter.

despite everything she'd told herself , everything she'd clawed at to hold on to to keep from slipping down , every half-hearted argument they'd had , every laugh stifled in the dark , every night they'd spent wearing each other out until she'd suddenly wake up at dawn break cradled so gently and warmly against the curve of his chest [ . . . ] as if they've been carved to fit. . . " i was never given any letters , hans. i. . . " ran ?? bolted ?? let the thick , unspoken hush of familiar forest air protect you from what you didn't want to admit ?? that he'd meant something ?? that it was hurting that you had to let him go ?? " i would've written you back if i had. " words dribble free like a wound unstaunched. " you have to believe me , please. would you really think i was that HEARTLESS ?? after everything ?? "

[pawnedprince]

[pawnedprince]

♡ ♡

pointless mun facts

I. i'm absolutely terrified of ghosts! i've had a lot of strange experiences throughout my life, some shared with other members of my family too. i saw my great grandfather's apparition when i was about 10 and that was one of the less scary experiences but still really freaked me out

II. i'm both an only child and an only grandchild, my family is SUPER small

[pawnedprince]

♡♡♡

pointless mun facts

I. my grandfather is a farrier and a blacksmith, so i spent my entire childhood around horses. i haven't ridden in years, but i used to do rodeo as a kid II. my first ttrpg was actually v:tm back in high school. then pathfinder in college, and then d&d much later. my favorite system is powered by the apocalypse however. d&d barely makes the top 5 lmao III. i've only been fencing for a few months, i started epee classes back in february! would've been doing it for WAY longer had i known my city actually had an active club

[pawnedprince]

♡♡♡♡♡ :*

pointless mun facts

I. i'm a reformed band kid; went to college on a flute scholarship, was drum major last two years of high school (won a few awards too) and then started learning bassoon - my true love - in college. II. the mountain goats are my favorite band; i've seen them live 5 times, john has some of our dice, and i'm a minor cryptid in the band's fandom lmao III. i developed an allergy to basil in my mid 20s despite not having any previous allergies. tragically learned this while eating a margherita pizza :( i loved basil IV. i cannot ride a bike, i've had inner ear problems since birth and have really bad balance cause of it.

V. i had a cousin who was on an episode of catfish in one of the really early seasons. it was hilarious.

[pawnedprince]

it is munday! send ‘♡’ for a pointless fact about the mun.

if you can’t see the symbol, send ‘heart emoji’.

[pawnedprince]

happy munday, i literally never take selfies but here are my current favorite table outfits when i’m vending. i call them: i’m a tree today, and i’m sweating for the kingdom

[pawnedprince]

how am i supposed to get up and work when there’s so much yearning going on????

[pawnedprince]

Just Lord of Pirkštejn and his loyal dog.

Finally finished this little silent comic. I planned to do only some practice sketches of armor, ended with this little thingy. Hope you will enjoy✨

Also I really miss my pirate gays so you can expect some ofmd fanart soon~

[pawnedprince]

also some hansry

[pawnedprince]

how can he not walk about his own life like any moment is his execution? in a world so determined to consume him, any mistake could be his last. every breath is a defense; and now the tower walls are crumbling. it's like he's gone overboard: stepped across the plank, one foot after the other, and the crash of the cold water has somehow shocked him to life. a jolt. and yet ... so frozen. his steeled limbs feel as if they might drag him down into the soft earth, his heart pounding against the cavity of his chest. speak you fool, move — anything! lashes flutter in a rapid blink and in this moment of composure hans has moved the both of them, back to that familiar field. back to the only place he's ever been truly alive.

he is right. no lesson could have prepared him for this — for him. for that lead - bellied sinking fear of uncertain stumbling. all that posturing, just to be so easily brought down. " truly ? " he questions. as if such a confession could ever be for only the sake of quieting his nerves! a hand extends towards henry's shoulder — that shoulder, and for a second, hans thinks better of it. and it's noticeable. but softly, it settles, hand upon the wound like he would draw the bullet out, forth across time. " you can't mean that. " that you've left a permanent mark within him or that he would endure it all again? hans can't say that he doesn't himself have regrets; he shouldn't carry such pride for that hit ... but he does. he moves his eyes from the shoulder to the familiar study of the cerulean gaze staring back at him and his heart flutters. he shouldn't question, he knows the truth. but he wants to be convinced. " i can't take it back, nor would i do you the dishonor ... but i regret ever having to be on the other end of those sights. " and not here with you instead. — but why couldn't you say that?

Hans treats everything like a firing squad. He walks as though he's the next in the queue and every stare is a musket. Henry can see it all about him, in how he plays every banquet like a map of bloody battlefields by the grilled and salted pork. His every step demands his caution, a great racketing of the mind to better gauge some loss, and the way that he chuckles like a shot has found his gullet? He's thinking. And Henry without a gun has is right at the trigger.

What blind spot has Hans that Henry here sees?

"I'm right is what I am," he gathers. "Not doubting it, Sir, all that schooling of yours that went on about them great battles and such, but they haven't said much of me." Hans looks at him. Eyes wide, the great blue danced within them dive in their pitch. It goes against his nature, surely, but it's as though his steady castle, his bulwark, has surrendered its keystone after all his fighting. He looks born-again delicate, but hardly like a woman or a tender, ripened fruit. It's more like the groaning of a tendon, the way it whines and aches when it nears its snap, and all about his skin is bruisened with the effort - like plums are. Or cherries. or a wound that's been stitched. Henry doesn't think him paltry or wanting in ways and bare or plain -- but when Henry himself would burn so brightly? Hans doubts. And again, Henry, reaching back, plays his port. "How can tell you me I'm wrong then? When I'm there at night pulling at them, remembering you like you've put your name in me?" What? Like something owed? Like a frightening, human claim? When has Henrys voice crawled so low? And when -- when had Hans' breathing felt so close? "When I'm almost wishing you were there to line another shot?"

[pawnedprince]

Reblog this if you admire the person who reblogged this before you.

[pawnedprince]

me: okay i’ve gotta stop drinking coffee, i’ve been managing my stomach issues and it’s really setting it off again

me in a hurry before dnd: wait let me stop and get a coffee

[pawnedprince]

i have reconnected with so many people on this blog, it's really beautiful, but also the amount of people from like 2018 prior who knew me from my beatrice days... you know my dark and cringey past lmaoo. i must trust you with the forbidden knowledge.

[pawnedprince]

he'd kept tally of each and every one of them, that much is obvious. even while deeply embroiled within the rising unrest upon his own shores, some other thought was lingering just under the surface. his features twist, and he fights to not withdraw further within himself. he wants to believe her, more than anything, wants to give some sort of validation to his reason to hope — that which he'd watched die a slow and painful death. ❛ then why didn't you write ... ? ❜ he still can't bring himself to lift his head.

an argument feels like a return to form with them; not quite a fresh start ( far from it ) but a familiar path to trod. it's hard to resist: lashing out, yelling his frustration, storming across the room and taking her in his arms ... ❛ i wrote to you. every week, sometimes more than that. ❜ hans finally raises his eyes to confront her, he all shattered fragments and sorrow. ❛ and you never answered. not once. ❜ in truth, it was the only thing keeping him sane, now fighting his battles alone in familiar halls. even when it became less inclination and more habit or ritual, when there was truly no point for him to put pen to paper, it kept him going. he'd write all manner of things: strings of thoughts, updates on the conflicts back home, godsforsaken lines of prose that wouldn't leave his head. he'd always been a nuisance. ❛ ... i thought you had moved on. ❜

to say that the keep had felt empty back in emon would've been a understatement. it was hollow. echoing not from lack of walls or duty , but from something far quieter. there'd been little to do there outside of putting money back into the recovering coffers of the capital , into their own home , helping percival recover from undeath. and yes , that was certainly a sturdy list to keep up with , but there'd been something missing for the better part of a year. someone. she'd thought returning back into the dense forest would help as it had many times in the past , taking on jobs here and there to keep the money flowing back to her friends like a penance. but it hadn't. not until she was standing here , closer than she’d been in months ( had it really been two hundred and eighty-seven ?? ) , yet it still felt like a continent stretched out between them. miles upon miles of unspoken things , brittle and biting , thick as nettles and just as unkind. " you've hardly a reason to believe me. . . " vex's voice frayed , even her hands clasping her arms can't keep the chill of the room out. " but i have too. every day. "

[pawnedprince]

FORTUNE FAVORS THE FUCKING BOLD. an  independent  and  semi - selective  portrayal  of  HANS CAPON of Kingdom Come: Deliverance. written  by MONK ( they / them , 29 ) since 2025.

[pawnedprince]

the expanse of the sky, be it night or day, is a much treasured gift. the room for lungs to expand cannot be taken for granted, and he is not one to do so. ❛ it is, ❜ he agrees wholeheartedly. eyes fixed upwards, he searches the sky for a familiar constellation or two: a much under practiced skill admittedly. half distracted by the task, he nearly misses the celestial object as it moves, checking her line of sight before catching the tail end of it. hans rocks back on his feet, a chortle for her light teasing. truthfully, the thought hadn't even crossed his mind. but it seemed more cruel to offer her a boring reality rather than to simply play along. ❛ too old? of course not. i've been told to get my head out of the clouds many times. i could never claim to be too old for anything. ❜ he's all to familiar with childish notions, whether prescribed to him or not, that was the common perception of him regardless.

a⠀[ 𝚁𝙴𝚂𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙴𝙳 ]⠀starter⠀...⠀ @pawnedprince ,

“⠀isn't it beautiful out here, beneath the stars?⠀”⠀ Wendy cannot seem to stop the smile that is on her mouth from growing.⠀ (⠀it seems as if it will only keep widening!⠀)⠀ as her gaze moves to the one standing beside her, the auburn haired woman bumps her shoulder into his arm.⠀when she looks up towards the night sky, she gasps.⠀ “⠀oh, look! it's a shooting star!⠀”⠀ the female closes her eyes as she makes a wish.⠀perhaps it's a childish notion, but she does not care if the man thinks her foolish.⠀ (⠀wishing on stars is not set for only a certain age range.⠀)⠀ as her eyes blink open, they look up at him in glittering curiosity.⠀ “⠀did you make a wish?⠀”⠀ head tilts to the side slightly.⠀ “⠀do not tell me that you're too old for such things.⠀ —⠀ now that would be a foolish thing to say.⠀”⠀ Wendy cannot help the quiet laughter that escapes from out of her throat.