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#headers to kill a kingdom

little-diable · 1 year

Text

Pen Pals - Tommy Shelby (smut)

Boy, do I adore working on fics with @zablife – thank you for adding your beautiful touch to this fic and for writing Tommy's letters. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tommy and the reader have been pen pals as teenagers, though ripped apart by the war. Now, as she is trapped in an abusive marriage, she finds Tommy's old letters again, and she can't help but wonder if he had made it home from war, and if so, could if he could be the helping hand she's desperate for?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, mentions an abusive husband and a gun, a very happy ending

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (5k words)

header by @deathofpeaceofmind

(Y/n) could still remember the call she had found in the paper as she had been a young teen, asking children and teenagers from the United Kingdom to send in their addresses, to find pen pals they could practise writing with. She had been filled with excitement, and even though her father had told her to not follow the call, undoubtedly worrying about the mail they’d receive, she still had run all the way to her post station to send off a letter, asking them to pair her up with a pen pal.

It had taken weeks for the first letter to arrive, addressed to (y/n) in a slightly wonky handwriting, introducing himself as Tommy Shelby. Back then she hadn’t even dared to guess the kind of friendship that would form between her and Tommy, the young boy from Small Heath, a city she has never been to before.

Ever since Tommy had written that very first letter, (y/n) had started to share her deepest secrets with the boy, confiding in the one she’d eventually fall for, without ever meeting him. But life hadn’t been kind to the two, ripping them apart before they could have even tried to grasp the chance to meet, before she or he could board a train to finally cross the endless hours laying between their homes.

War had been cruel, to both their families, killing innocent lives before they could evolve into the people they were destined to be. (Y/n)’s heart had ached in her chest when Tommy’s very last letter had found its way to her, saying goodbye to the woman that had been by his side for the past years, at least on paper, one with the ink soaking through the expensive paper they’d steal from their family members close by.

She had collected every letter he had written, stored away in a box she hadn’t opened in years, long forgotten like the words she had once known by heart. Within the first few months of the war people would talk about for decades to come, she had found it too painful to think of Tommy, wondering if he was still alive, breathing in the smell of gunpowder, of dirt and blood. The mere thought of said vile mixture had brought tears to her eyes, clutching the fabric of her blankets when she was laying awake late at night.

The years had passed and with those years the memories of his letters had faded, allowing her heart to make peace with the ghost of old times she had run from. It was almost ironic how she had found the wooden box again, trying to hide the gun she had bought from a man down the street, needing to find something she could use to protect herself against the man she had married, one with the alcohol he’d pour down his throat, with the money he made from gambling, and the anger he’d unleash upon her in moments he’d call ‘moments of weakness’.

Her hands had trembled as she had grasped the first box she could find hidden in the back of her closet, freezing she felt the all too familiar wood beneath her fingertips. Tears had welled up in her eyes, fingers stroking along the outlines of the box before she slowly opened it. The gun had been long forgotten, placed on the ground next to her kneeling frame as she started reading the letters, mind racing, just like her heart.

With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) reached for the last letter she had received from him. She could still feel the pain his words had unleashed upon her, forcing the young woman to accept that he may never write to her again, buried with those that left their homes with hopeful hearts and strong minds, set on winning the war.

“Dearest Y/n,

I am writing to thank you for your last letter and the photograph you enclosed. It will surely bring me comfort when I am far from home. I must admit that I have been thinking of you often as I prepare to leave, knowing we will not be corresponding as frequently or perhaps at all. I never realised how much my happiness depended on you and the words we exchanged over the years. I know now that you’re the only girl who has ever mattered.

Take care of yourself whilst I’m away. I will do my best to return if only to see your lovely smile in person one day after this war has ended.

Yours, Tommy”

While her heart screamed at her, cursing (y/n) for forgetting about the man she had once planned to marry, crossing the country to make her way to him, her mind started questioning if there was even just a slight chance of Tommy being still alive. Perhaps it had been her own moment of weakness, and yet she couldn’t stop herself from searching for a piece of paper and some ink, starting scribbling down words she could barely read with the tears blurring her vision.

“Dear Tommy,

God, it’s been years, hasn’t it? And yet I can still remember the endless hours I’ve spent pressed against the window of my parent’s living room, waiting for your letters to arrive. How oblivious I’ve been, too naive to understand that life would rip you from me. For years I’ve tried to make my peace with the thought of you amongst other fallen soldiers, but it seems as if the pain has never quite subsided.

Sometimes I catch myself dreaming of the life we could have shared, the house we would have lived in and the children we could have had. An easy life that now seems more far away than ever before. Perhaps it’s foolish of me to rip open the wound that hasn’t properly healed, but just the slightest chance of you still being alive seems a price worth paying.

The naive child living inside of me is hoping for your reply, anxiously awaiting the darkening truth to be revealed. But if you’re receiving this, know that I’ve never stopped loving you.

Yours, (y/n)”

For a moment she had debated telling him about the situation she found herself trapped in, the loveless marriage she was a hostage of, but she didn’t have the heart to do so, scared that somebody besides Tommy would read the letter. And so she folded the paper, staring at it for a few moments before she rose from the floor of her walk-in closet, praying to whoever was listening, that the old address of his would still be the right one.

…

Weeks have passed since (y/n) had sent off the letter, using the address she still knew by heart, a shot in the dark that would probably never be returned to the light. It had been foolish of her to write the letter, forcing her further down memory lane, a path she couldn’t retreat from, stuck in the emotions her younger self had carried deep inside of herself, loving a man she hadn’t ever touched before, a man she hadn’t ever spoken to before, only knowing his handwriting and the thoughts plaguing him.

And while (y/n) had spent most of her past days trapped in her thoughts, her husband had found his way back home, drunk off his mind, smelling of places women like her wouldn’t be allowed to enter. Fear simmered deep inside of her, mixed with the slightest bit of hope, praying to God that Tommy would reply, or at least somebody who knew of Tommy Shelby.

It was early in the morning by the time her doorbell went off, forcing (y/n) out of bed with trembling limbs, arms slung around her waist to try and shield herself from the cold of the morning. Slowly she moved towards the door, opening it just enough for her to take in the body on the other side of the door, “Morning, (y/n), here I thought this may be of importance to you.”

A letter was pushed into her outstretched hand by the postman, sharing a slight smile before she murmured a “Thank you, Frank”, watching him move away. Her heart picked up its pace, eyes staring down onto the address of hers that had been written by a handwriting she didn't recognise. Slowly but surely the daunting realisation began to settle in, this hadn’t been written by Tommy. Times may have changed, but if there was one thing she was certain of it was Tommy’s handwriting. Was this what she had been fearing? Was he no longer human but bones and rotten flesh?

Tears welled up in her eyes, making it harder for her to see as (y/n) found her way back to her empty bed. She stared at the envelope for a few moments, trembling hand wiping away the falling tears. It felt worse than she had imagined, a pain so biting, she felt bile rise in her throat. A pain that was guided by her anger, anger addressed at those greedy men that have ripped millions of people from their families, greedy men whose decisions have forced Tommy to part from their evolving bond.

A deep breath was exhaled as (y/n) opened the envelope, careful not to destroy the parts that had the address of the sender written on them, an unfamiliar street she hadn’t heard of before. Her trembling fingers unfolded the letter, freezing as she read the first few words.

“Dear Miss Y/L/N,

I apologise for any delay in correspondence as my secretary is unfamiliar with this address.

Of course, I remember you and the years of our acquaintance before the war. As you say, much has changed with time. I’ve a business in Birmingham, Shelby Company Limited, as well as several race horses which occupy my time. I cannot give quite so accurate an account of my time in between as you have done. My memories of the war and the subsequent years are not pleasant ones. However, I confess I keep your photograph by my desk as a reminder of simpler times when the world was a better place.

It is my hope that you have found happiness in your life. I am told it is a choice one must make for themselves though I still seem to be deciding. Perhaps I should flip a coin as I would have done in the old days?

Sincerely, Thomas Shelby”

He was alive. Tommy Shelby was alive. A sob wrecked through her, followed by another. (Y/n) pressed the letter against her chest, holding it tight as if she was hugging Tommy. A man that had changed like the tide rolling in, a man who had left behind his happiness on a warfield, a man who no longer addressed her by her first name. Changes (y/n) didn’t care about, rising to her feet in a frenzy, this was her chance. A way out.

(Y/n) didn’t worry about the chances of Tommy pushing her away, didn’t even think twice about the what if’s, the chances of him not wanting to meet her. She had been desperate to find a place where she could hide away from her husband, and if Small Heath – the city she had been supposed to move to years ago – was her calling, she’d follow it blindly.

Clothes were thrown into her old suitcase, not caring what she was packing, too focused on the racing of her heart, the blood thumping through her veins like alcohol. A blind happiness that drowned out the sound of her bedroom door being pushed open, exposing her stumbling husband.

“What the hell are you doing?” (Y/n) froze, eyes squeezed shut for a moment before she slowly turned towards him. He was drunk off his face, could barely balance himself, God’s timing seemed to be perfect, he’d pass out soon, giving her a chance to blend in with the dark morning. “I asked you a question, woman.”

“I,” (y/n) stumbled over her words, fisting the fabric of her thin dress as she was wrecking her brain for a lie to distract him with. “My mam’s sick, I need to visit her for a few days, you know how she is, I can’t leave her alone.”

He stared at her for a few moments, either too drunk to notice the tremble of her voice, or too distracted by the tiredness clinging to him. With a nod thrown her way, he found his way to their shared bed, no longer paying attention to her movements. Relief flushed through her, guiding her through the next moments, closing her suitcase, and with one last glance thrown at her husband, (y/n) pulled her ring off her finger, placing it down on the small reading table placed next to their door.

The morning was cold, a sensation her busy mind paid no worries to, wrapping her coat tighter around herself. Slowly her doubts began to resurface, doubts that distracted her from the dark path to the train station, hoping that she wouldn’t have to wait long for the next train she could take, leaving this very life behind.

Her eyes found the dark ones of the ticket seller, smiling at the grim looking man, “I need a ticket to Birmingham, please.”

…

As a teen (y/n) had imagined the very first time she’d make it to Birmingham, to Small Heath. Back then she had been filled with excitement, a giddy feeling that had left her insides churning, wondering how it may feel to hug Tommy, wondering about the places he’d show her. Naive dreams that had evaporated into a cloud of anxiety, a cloud she was now trapped in.

It had taken her hours to find her way to the streets of Small Heath, but even though the day had turned into evening, (y/n) felt no tiredness clinging to her fleshcage, no exhaustion she was slowed down by. No, by now her confidence had passed, turning into worries that ate her from inside out. Would he even want to speak to her? Would he accept her, or force her to turn away?

With every further step (y/n) took, clinging to the address she had found on the back of his letter, the worries began to grow. A part of her screamed at (y/n) to turn around and leave, to forget about this trip and to tell her husband that her mother didn’t need her help. But her curiosity forced her to keep on moving, till she came to halt in front of the house the address had guided her to.

Trembling fingers were balled into fists, knocking on the heavy door with a deep breath exhaled. There was no turning back, no way out of this mess. She counted the seconds fading by, wondering who’d open the door. (Y/n) knocked again after a few moments, taking a step back as the sinking realisation began to broaden in her system. Only as she turned away from the door, shoulders slumped, legs suddenly feeling heavier than before, the door was ripped open.

“What do you want?” A man had opened the door, presumably younger than she was, and yet his eyes carried something that made (y/n) wonder what cruelties he had been forced to see.

“I’m looking for Tommy Shelby.” (Y/n)’s words were quiet, nothing more than a whisper, and yet he seemed to pick up on them perfectly fine.

“Why? What do you want from him?” Her eyes flickered down to the letter she was holding, wondering how to explain to the man that Tommy Shelby was the lifeline she was clinging to, needing to be pulled from the soaring waves before she’d drown.

“I’m an old friend of his.” While (y/n) was looking for more words to speak, trying to find a way to beg the man to guide her to him, he kept studying her, gaze focusing on the letter she was holding. It took him a few moments to reply, taking in her tired features before he stepped out into the evening, taking her suitcase from (y/n) before she could speak up.

“He’s down at the Garrison, I’ll bring you to him, ‘m John.”

…

“I can’t do this.” (Y/n) froze as they arrived at the Garrison, eyes set ahead on the entrance. Should she really do this? Was this the right decision? She didn’t even know what Tommy looked like, hadn’t ever received a picture of the man she had once planned to marry.

“What’s wrong? Thought you’re an old friend of Tommy’s?” John alighted another cigarette, curious eyes not wandering from her features. On the way to the Garrison they had exchanged a few words, getting to know one another, even though he hadn’t asked any questions about her relationship with Tommy, not one question had been wasted on the man’s name.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that.” (Y/n)’s eyes found John’s, sending him a sad smile that was frozen on her lips as his hand found the back of her shoulder, giving her a slight push forward.

“Don’t you worry, ‘m sure he’ll be happy to see a pretty face like yours.” Before she could even try to inhale another breath, (y/n) was pushed into the pub, taking in the smell of alcohol and cigarettes that lingered in the air. Her heart was pounding, not able to pay attention to the greetings thrown John’s way, wondering if Tommy was any of these men. Would her heart recognise him before her mind would?

“Look at that, John, did you finally find a woman interested in you?” A man with a prominent moustache spoke up, arm finding its way around John’s shoulder, pulling the man against his chest. Too many curious eyes were focused on (y/n)’s frame, making her feel rather uncomfortable. But while she tried to find comfort in her coat, hiding away from their gazes, John shook his head, murmuring something about Tommy to them.

“A friend of Tommy’s, eh? Alright, come, let’s bring you to him.” The older man took her by her wrist, a gentle touch (y/n) couldn’t focus on, realising that she was truly about to meet the man she had once known better than her friends and family members. No words threatened to leave her, lips pressed together as the man guided her through the pub, coming to halt in front of two smoking men.

Piercing blue eyes found hers, and something inside of her clicked. She tensed, unable to inhale any air her aching lungs were desperate for. Time seemed to stand still, earth had stopped rotating, no longer guiding her through the passing by seconds.

“You’ve got a visitor, Tommy, says she’s an old friend of yours.” It truly was him. The man with piercing blue eyes that reflected no emotions, a stoic glance that could freeze hell. The other man sitting in front of Tommy rose from his seat, nodding at him before he blended in with the other men, making room for (y/n).

Silence engulfed the three of them, seconds Tommy used to take in her frame. Did he recognise her? She had changed over the years, looked nothing like the girl in the picture Tommy had apparently kept close, but if he felt the same pull she was currently feeling, he must know it’s her, guided by the heart that had been broken one too many times.

“Leave us alone, Arthur.” The man squeezed her wrist before he parted from them, sending Tommy one last curious glance. Tommy reached for a cigarette, alighting it before he pointed his hand towards the empty chair. Her trembling limbs forced her to sit down, unable to speak up with her dry mouth. “Flipped a coin, you know, wasn’t sure what it was trying to tell me, but I guess I finally have my answer.”

“I’m sorry.” The apology bled from her lips, eyes not daring to move from Tommy, taking in the handsome face she’d never be able to forget again. “I’m sorry for just turning up like that, but I needed to take my chance, even though I’m a few years too late.”

“Does your husband know you’re here, (y/n)?” She froze, wondering how he knew of the man she had left behind, even though she wasn’t even wearing her ring.

“He’s no longer my husband, at least I no longer want to call him that. You know, I thought you were dead, no further letters have found their way to me, my mother told me to move on, to marry before I get too old. But ever since your last letter I’ve felt everything but happiness.” Tears welled up in her eyes, she fumbled with her fingers, feeling pathetic and yet overly relieved to finally be in Tommy’s presence.

“Small Heath is no place of happiness, and it’s certainly not safe for a woman like you.” (Y/n)’s throat began to tighten up, unable to bite down the anger simmering inside of her, not understanding what he meant by his words.

“I’m safer here than I’ll ever be around my husband.” It took Tommy a few moments to reply, finally realising why she was fleeing from her home. He stubbed out his cigarette, rose from his seat and stretched his hand out for (y/n) to take. Shudders ran down her spine, feeling his skin pressing against hers for the first time, an unfamiliar sensation Tommy also seemed to be distracted by for just a fraction of a moment.

“Let’s get you home then.”

…

“Drink?” (Y/n) could only nod her head, taking in Tommy’s office, the books her fingers ached to touch, the paintings her eyes couldn’t stop admiring. She felt awfully at peace, finally calm enough to exhale the built up pressure.

“I have to admit, I didn’t imagine that being at your place for the first time would play out like this.” Her chuckles left him smiling, staring down into his drink before Tommy took a sip, leaning against his desk.

“How did you imagine it?” Her eyes found his, hand tightening its grip on her glass as she took a step closer towards him, just close enough that she could easily touch him, if the alcohol would give her the confidence to do so.

“I don’t know, I guess young (y/n) didn’t worry about anything but finally being with you. God, I was ready to leave everything behind for you, and if I’m honest, I think this is one of the few things that has never changed over the past years.” His hand found her side, pulling (y/n) against his chest before she could begin to understand what Tommy was doing. He was holding her close, chin placed on top of her head, arms slung around her middle. Both deeply exhaled as if all weight had finally been lifted off their shoulders, no longer carrying the pain the past years had unleashed upon them.

(Y/n) lifted her head off his chest, eyes finding Tommy’s, wordlessly communicating the love that has never subsided, forever etched into her racing heart. His eyes flickered down to her lips, making her awfully aware of their closeness, a thought drowned out by the feeling of his lips meeting hers for the first time. For a moment both froze, minds unable to realise that they were finally kissing.

He tasted of alcohol and cigarettes, a taste she’d forever remember, a taste she’d take to grave, cherishing every part of Tommy, even on her deathbed. He was the darkness she’d walk through, rising with the shadows he had once sent to hell, calling him home once his time was running out.

Her gasps urged Tommy on to add more pressure to his touch, hand finding her chin to keep (y/n) in place. The kiss was unexpectedly sweet and soft, not rushed by the endless years they’ve spent wondering about this very moment. (Y/n)’s hands found the hairs at the nape of his neck, tugging on his roots in a desperate need to deepen the kiss.

“You have to be sure about this.” Tommy murmured the words against her lips, eyes even more piercing than before, finally giving away the whirlwind of emotions he was stuck in. His fingertips danced along her sides, gently caressing her skin through the thin fabric of the dress she was wearing, sticking to her limbs since this very morning.

“I’m more sure about this than about anything else, are you?” Her whispers left him chuckling, forehead pressed against hers to release a deep breath.

“I’ve waited for this moment for years, of course I’m sure about this, about you.” Another kiss was shared between them before Tommy interlaced their fingers, pulling (y/n) towards his bedroom. The giddy feeling she hadn’t felt for years began to fill her, an emotion so familiar and yet so new, making her blood grow warmer, filling every inch of her body.

They came to halt in front of his bed, eyes not daring to break contact as he pushed the straps of her dress down her arms, falling to the ground to expose her naked chest. He took his time admiring her, eyes wandering up and down her frame, not able to break down the small smile widening on his lips. Impatient as one can be, (y/n) pulled him closer, hands working on the buttons of his vest, finding its way to the ground with his shirt soon following.

“I want to take my time with you, love you properly like I should have done years ago.” His raspy words left her trembling, only able to nod her head. Slowly she sat down on the mattress, crawling up the bed with Tommy following her every move, lips finding back together as he towered over her. He kissed his way down her throat, sucking on her skin, leaving marks he’d renew with every rising of the sun. Cold hands explored her chest, tugging on her hardening nipples, wanting to coax every sinful sound from her swollen lips.

“Don’t ever stop touching me, Tommy, promise me.” Her whispers filled the room, words caught in her throat as his mouth replaced his fingers. (Y/n) arched her chest further against him, high on the feeling, not once had she been touched like this before, not used to being treated like a woman that deserved to feel pleasure.

“I promise, even if it may be the only promise I’ll ever keep.” Tommy’s mouth moved further down her body, hands tugging on her panties, exposing every inch of her body to his wandering eyes. He cupped her heat, felt her arousal dripping from her tightness, body begging for his touch, needing to feel his hands on every part of her. Her moans rumbled through her, guided by her pleasure, the unfamiliar desire she had to adjust to.

His mouth found her bundle of nerves, a touch that left her gasping in surprise. Not once had her husband wasted his time on pleasuring her, not once had he used his mouth on her, a sensation so intimate, (y/n) was grateful that she got to share her first time experiencing it with Tommy. His eyes found hers every now and then, as if he was checking in to see how she was feeling, if she was enjoying the way he was touching her. And great heavens, she was.

“Feels so good, fuck, never been touched like this.” Her confession left Tommy smirking in pride, grateful that he was the one to push her into the soaring waves of her orgasm. Two of his fingers teased her entrance, giving her a moment to stop him should she feel uncomfortable, but (y/n) didn’t dare speak up, too caught in the web of pleasure he had spun. He fucked her slow at first, fingers moving in a steady pace, before he began to build up the pressure, curling them against her swollen spot.

Her moans grew louder, walls clenching around him, not able to stop herself from giving in, calling out his name as her first orgasm of the night flushed through her system. Tommy gave her a few moments to cling to the feeling before he pulled away from her, watching her panting frame while he undressed, exposing his naked body to hers. He was gorgeous, a perfect man made for her only, a man she’d never willingly part from again.

Tommy interlaced his fingers with (y/n)’s, staring down on her as he pushed into her, a movement that coaxed a heavy moan out of the both lovers, needing to adjust before he could start fucking her. It felt like their bodies were made for one another, one with the love they’ve shared for a decade, the love so intense it had never managed to fully let go of them.

(Y/n) searched his lips, drowning out the sounds that left her, swallowed by the kiss that left both panting. Her eyes fluttered close and for a moment (y/n) felt like her teen self, remembering all those nights she had spent wondering how being with Tommy would feel like, how he’d touch and love her, but nothing would ever manage to describe what she was truly feeling in this very moment.

A moment filled with love and adoration, a moment so perfect no human mind would ever fully grasp it.

His fingers found their way back to her pulsing bundle, pushing her further into the darkness he had her trapped in, wanting to see the pleasure tugging on her features once again. (Y/n) choked on his name, eyes squeezed shut as her second orgasm rocked through her, robbing her of any strength lingering in her system.

Tommy kept moving, chasing his own high as his eyes watched his cock disappear inside her tightness, coated in her arousal. The sight left his cock twitching, about to release himself on her walls. He managed to pull out just before his orgasm would rock through him, jerking himself for a few moments before he painted her thighs white, letting go with a deep moan.

Both were panting, bodies searching one another, not fully realising that the past moments have truly just happened. They still had their fingers interlaced, not daring to let go just yet, not even as Tommy reached for a tissue to clean her skin, not even as he alighted a cigarette to fill the quiet bedroom with blue smoke.

“There were times where I thought I may have found love again, and yet it had never been the same love you’ve managed to make me feel with your letters. I’m not a good man, (y/n), I’ve done things worse than you’ll ever be able to imagine, but I’m selfish, I won’t let you leave again, not when I finally have you to myself.” She rose from her position, body fully turned towards Tommy, and with her lips kissing his once again, (y/n) murmured a soft “I won’t leave you, not now, not ever”.

#Tommy Shelby smut #Tommy Shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine

668 notes · View notes

egret-orchids · 2 months

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i thought you'd be better than this | pjsk fantasy au oneshot

^inspiration art by @/gamurin although i did crop the image to make it more header-y

word count: 657

cw: blood, fighting, injury

Mafuyu skids to a halt, boots sliding across the marble of the derelict throne room’s floor. They narrow their eyes, frowning as they wipe the trickle of steadily drying blood from their broken nose off of their face. They growl under their breath, lifting their sword in front of their face, ready to block the next attack, ignoring the twinge of pain from their broken rib; they'd been slammed into the wall early on in the fight. “Must you really push yourself so hard, General?” the sorcerer mocks from somewhere above; he’s likely standing on the balcony overlooking the main court, yet Mafuyu can’t see him. The bastard’s masking the noise of his movement with muffling spells.

They leap to the right as a blast of crimson light slams into the floor where they were just standing. They force a cruel laugh. “You ought to focus on your attacks, not stealth. That’s your problem- you waste energy on masking your sound, yet it drains you, doesn’t it?” they say, almost as if they’re simply discussing the weather, not sparring for some probably fictitious title that would take them from mere soldiers to the honour that the top ranking possible for the Imperial Soldiers bestowed. Or Rui thinks that's what they're sparring over. Mafuyu’s half-brother is a fool. Stubborn and extremely powerful, yes, but an illogical fool who would achieve his goals rather than making sure his health doesn’t suffer any more than it already is. Has he not noticed the Yoisaki emblem embroidered on their uniform? It was a recent thing, but...

Rui doesn't reply, simply reappearing in front of Mafuyu and shoving them onto the ground. They glare up at him as he places one of his feet of their dominant arm and presses his weight onto it, rendering both that arm and their sword useless until he moves. "I always knew you were weak, brother," Rui croons, a devilish smirk on his face, golden-brown eyes alight with mirth, "but never this weak. You're stronger than me, skilled with both magic and the art of the sword, yet I can easily overpower you with a simple attack. Strange, isn't it? I thought you'd be better than this."

Mafuyu scoffs. "I'm not weak. You've done something to your power, haven't you? Amplified it." they reply quietly. Rui's magic, when visible, always gave off a violet glow. Only the Emperor's mages' spells were crimson, and that was through the dark magic they were permitted to use. Sorcerers like Rui aren't physically strong or mentally stable enough to- using it could be deadly. Rui opens his mouth to reply, only to stagger backwards as harsh coughs wrack his body. Mafuyu jumps up, but doesn't attack at first. But then instinct takes over when Rui stops, a thin line of blood trickling from his lips. They take the opportunity to press their sword against his throat, cutting deep. Rui freezes, before grinning and summoning an orb of that deadly crimson light. "Really going to kill me, brother?" he mocks. Mafuyu doesn't reply, ignoring the lump in their throat. Slowly, they pull their sword away, ignoring the tug of disgust in the stomach when they take in the slit along Rui's throat. They swallow, sheathing their sword. "No. I'm meant to teach you a lesson, Rui. I'm not on your side." they mutter.

Rui stops, the crimson orb fading. His eyes shift to Mafuyu's uniform, widening in recognition when he sees the carnation emblem of the Yoisaki kingdom, mumbling a soft "Oh..." before finally stumbling away, face pale. Mafuyu turns on their heel, rushing away.

They are already out of the throne room when Rui Kamishiro, sorcerer for the Emperor, best of his year, famed across the entire empire for being damn-near invincible, collapses to the floor.

Pity they don't notice the gunslinger and his shy assistant sneaking into the room, the greenish glow of a healing spell on his fingertips.

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silentmoths · 1 year

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As Fragile as a brick wall

Masterlist||First||Previous||Next

hey hey it's me kinda sorta back from my social media pause. kinda because I'm still likely to be very quiet for a while.

Ch 5: Zhongli attempts to locate his renegade princess to ask a question.

Ganyu wins a bet.

Zhongli x Afab (fem pronoun) Reader

little death/gore in this one? just a wee bit.

NSFW elements in later chapters

Multi-chapter, Royal AU, angst, mentions of death, eventual fluff, eventual smut, idk more tags when they happen ig? (Wonderful header image made by the wonderful @ainescribe)

Zhongli was a king, he had won the throne by strategy and wit. His new people adored him, his allied kingdoms were warm and welcoming to the changes he had brought about.

So why?

Why was an unassuming wooden door simply too much for him?

All he had to do was knock, and yet every time he turned down the hallway towards her room he just… froze.

Princes he could capture.

Kings? He could kill those, take their place, and overhaul their battered kingdoms.

The princess however, was a hurdle he could not jump, no matter how many attempts he made.

Obviously he needed to speak with her.

He needed to clear the air, talk plainly.

(perhaps apologise for attempting such an underhanded tactic as forcing her to marry him? Yeah, definitely.)

It takes him three more days, of deliberating and debating with just his own mind, of Xiao’s confused stare, and Ganyu’s tired, but knowing smile before he finally relents and marches to her room.

The lack of guards at the door should have been the first hint, but Zhongli is so focused on doing this one thing that he does not notice.

“Princess?” He calls as he knocks “I need to speak with you.”

There is no answer, as expected, she was still ignoring him.

He knocks again.

“Do you intend to hole up in here forever?” He asks, still no response.

Now, surely she was making a fool of him.

“I’ve given you plenty of warning.” He sighs, gripping the door handle “I’m coming in-”

Oh, well no wonder she wasn’t answering.

She wasn't even here.

Zhongli blinks, staring around the room, in a way it was good to see some things never changed. While the decoration of her chambers had grown and matured with her, he could still see small touches of…her, about the room. Worn down and damaged from time under tyranny, but still distinctly what he remembered.

The glaze lilies, in a vase he remembers her mother once owning, sit beside the open window, swaying softly in the breeze, and his heart squeezes just a little…they had always been his favorite.

“M’lord.” Ganyu’s quiet call very nearly makes him jump, turning to find her standing in the doorway. “Her highness has a tendency to leave quite early in the mornings, and not return until nearly dusk.” she informs him.

“And why, pray tell, has it taken you this long to inform me of this?” He asks, shooting her a less-than-impressed look, only to have her smile knowingly.

“To be honest with you, it was a bet between us attendants, to see how long it would take until you finally worked up the nerve to enter her room….so thank you for making me slightly richer.” She giggles, turning and vanishing down the hall to let her king stew in his flustered state.

But now a new question floats to the forefront of his mind.

Where exactly was she going?

—

“Oh princess, you really don’t have to-”

“It’s quite alright, Siqin. Your horse has taken Ill, Azhdaha is more than capable of towing the plough, even at his age.” You’re quick to wave off the farmer's concern “Isn't that right, old boy?”

Beside you, your dutiful horse snorts, ears pricking forward as if offended that the farmer was insinuating he was unable to perform a task. Siqin gnaws his lip for a moment before sighing.

“Very well, your highness.”

“Oh, please there’s no need to call me that. Technically I’m no longer a princess-” you attempt to reason with him, but are quickly shot down by Granny Chu, shooting you a venomous look.

“Nonsense!” She shouts “Just because your father no longer rules does not mean this kingdom no longer recognizes you as royalty, dear.” she huffs as she turns her gaze to Siqin, the man scrambling to attach the plough to your horse. “Besides, you have more than earned the title in the village’s eyes.” She continues “you come out here every day to help with the smallest of things.”

“Your horse falling Ill isn’t small, Granny.” You retort, taking a seat beside her to help husk the most recent harvest of corn, your hands far slower, softer and less skilled than the elder, but something to do, anything to help is what put your mind at ease. “Azhdaha, be good for him, or no sugar cube tonight.” You warn the stallion; watching his ears pin back in frustration before he finally hauls off, a very frightened Siqin saddled on his back. “If you can’t plough the fields, you can’t sow the crop, without the crop there will be no harvest.”

“Oh I’m sure we would have figured something out.” Granny Chu mutters, a fond shine in her eyes as she leans over, gently grasping your hands and physically helping you through the motions “Like that..”

“Thank you.” you mumble, getting the right technique down after a few more tries, keeping a watchful eye on your temperamental steed as he effortlessly trots along the field, tilling the soil. “Do you know of anyone else who may need assistance?”

“Hmm, I do believe Miss Bai would appreciate you paying a visit to the schoolhouse.” She muses “A visit from the princess would definitely spark the children’s interest.” “Not a princess anymore-”

“Hush.”

You both fall silent for a moment before an unmistakable giggle slips from your lips, only to be followed by granny chu’s own snicker. Soon enough you’re both laughing, and you find yourself at peace.

In all your years, it had been doing things like this that had brought you the most joy, helping your people and seeing them grow, watching their happiness bloom. This is what you wanted.

—

After a rather interesting story time with the local school children (in which they all demanded stories from other kingdom’s you’d visited), a commotion outside pulls everyone’s attention.

Unfortunately what you find outside only makes your smile drop.

Zhongli, slowly walking down the path, soft, warm smile on his face.

What’s worse? The moment he sees you, it only seems to widen, and now you had nowhere to hide, delightful.

At least until a devious idea floats to the surface.

Zhongli had always had a soft spot for children…and you just happened to have a small army of them gathered around you.

“Well, would you look at that.” You lilt in a sing-song tone, one you knew would get the children excited. “The king himself has some to see you all as well! What a lucky day it is~”

A dozen pairs of eyes look up at you and then to the approaching king, hope and excitement abound. Jackpot.

“I know you all must have so many questions for the new king, don’t you?”

All at once, the children scramble, bolting away from you and crowding around his feet instead. At first, Zhongli blinks in shock, his gaze quickly flitting to you, but then back down to the children and- goddamn it.

You had somewhat hoped that this new diversion would at least annoy the man a little, but the warm smile and soft look is back. How dare he have the gall to look so…content. Oh well, at least it gave you a few moments to scamper away; surely Siqin would be done with Azhdaha by now.

Siqin is more than happy to hand the reins of your ornery stallion back to you, fields freshly tilled and ready to be planted, and you waste no time making yourself scarce. The less you had to see of him and his stupid smile and handsome face and pretty eyes, the better. Azhdaha, usually a steed of routine, doesn’t even question when you don’t head back towards the castle immediately, instead making for somewhere quiet to be with your thoughts.

A small grove of sunsettia trees upon a hill seemed like a nice enough place. You can’t help but giggle as you note the carvings upon the wood; seems this is where the youths of the village used to come here with their sweethearts to carve their names into the tree trunks, how novel.

A nicker and a nudge by an impatient horse snout pulls you from your thoughts, Azhdaha looking up into the branches and stomping a hoof, ah, of course. A hard day’s work deserved a few treats. A swift climb up and soon you find yourself situated comfortably upon a branch, reaching up to pluck fresh, ripened fruit from above to feed them to your demanding horse below, occasionally biting into one yourself as you look out over the small hamlet.

Since your little…intervention, the village had really come together…listening to your suggestions and helping one another. You would never admit to anyone but…god you’d been so afraid that the idea would fail…you’d never had the chance to do anything when it came to guiding the kingdom and even then, it was only because Zhongli was flailing that you even had the nerve to intercept…but looking at all the once broken down, dilapidated houses and buildings slowly, but surely being restored, people helping instead of fighting, things could not have possibly gone any better.

Minutes slowly meld together as you simply enjoy being… doing nothing in particular. Azhdaha, now having had his fill takes a rare opportunity to roll in the grass. Old and noble he may be, but even your old, grizzled warhorse still had his moments.

The view from atop the hill truly was lovely. If you’d had a knack for painting, you’d almost consider coming up here to paint the village as it is now, and then perhaps returning the next winter to paint it again, just to see how things had changed.

And you also wonder what the view was like from the top of the tree...Glancing up, the branches looked sturdy enough…

By the time Azhdaha notices your ascent, you’re already halfway up, a soft laugh bubbling in your chest. This reminded you of childhood, when your mother used to take you out to the orchards proper and you got to run and play amongst the trees, chase, hide and seek, simply picking and snacking on whatever fruit you could reach… fond memories indeed.

Finally, your head emerges from the foliage and oh- you were right about the view being even more gorgeous from up here. At this vantage, you could just see over the tops of the cobbled rooves of the bakery and the smithy and out into the rolling farmland behind, the slowly waning sun bathing the fields rich golds and oranges, a kind of warmth you’d not seen in your own kingdom in years.

You’re so mesmerised by the sight that you don't hear the call of your name, or even the crow cawing nearby, until the winged creature swoops just that little bit too close, startling and causing you to jolt, fingers unable to grasp the trunk in time as the sudden movement snaps the thin branch you’d been standing upon; and then you’re falling and you silently curse yourself.

Dead via sunsettia tree, what a headline that would make.

But a shout, a strong pair of arms and a warm, firm chest meet you before the ground does, and another body goes tumbling down the hill a ways with you, cushioning your fall and likely saving you from much worse damage as you both come to a stop at the bottom of the hill, Azhdaha trotting after you.

“Are you alright?” A familiar voice asks, you look up to meet the gaze of your rescuer and find none other than those damningly beautiful eyes.

Zhongli.

His hand gently comes up to caress your cheek with his thumb, fingers softly brushing hair from your face as the panic in his gaze slowly fades, not seeing any immediate injuries.

“Are you alright?” he asks again, calmer this time, and you nod, still trying to find your voice.

“I- um…y-yes, I’m fine.” you finally manage to choke out, internally chiding yourself for such a weak response, even more so when you realise your leaning into his hand, which has simply come to rest cupping your cheek in a way that was much too tender for your liking.

Only then do you truly realise your…compromising position, both laid out on the ground with you sprawled across the kings chest like some…harlot.

He has the gall to chuckle when you gasp and quickly sit up, shifting off and away from him and back to your horse, who’s massive nose is quick to sniff at your hair and clothes to ensure you were actually alright. Some of your muscles protest, your leg and torso especially, having hit a branch on the way down, you can feel the bruise already blooming across the back of your thigh and the dull ache just above your hip, but that was nothing you couldn’t handle.

“What…what are you doing here?” you finally manage to ask as Zhongli sits up, smiling…always smiling at you, you hated it. “Well…” he hums “I had initially come to speak to you in your chambers…only to discover you absent…so I thought I might take a walk in the village to see how the plan you’d made to prepare for the winter had been faring-”

“I mean-” you interject with a frustrated sigh “why are you here?” you reiterate. If there was one thing you remember about Zhongli being somewhat prolific for back in his days as a knight, it was constantly over-explaining.

“Oh! Well, I was hoping you would join me for dinner tonight…” he states as plainly as a commoner would state their name, the casual nature of it all leaving you blinking and caught entirely off guard, something the king at least seems to take into account.

“I…went to the garden.” he slowly admits, rising to stand “I…saw the statue…I feel like there is much I need to explain to you…about why I left and why I have done the things I have… allow me that…and then if you still wish to have nothing to do with me…well…we’ll sort something out.”

“What do you mean by that, exactly?” you retort, narrowing your eyes at him “‘sort something out?’”

“Simple really…it’s unfair on you to have to continue skulking and slinking about the castle…so if my explanation is not to your tastes…whatever you need to live happily…I will provide…but we can speak more on it later…perhaps at dinner, no?” and that smile is back as he turns, looking over his shoulder at you for a moment longer before he departs “I’ve already asked the kitchens to prepare a few old favourites… but know I won’t hold it against you if you do not attend.”

And then like that, he simply continues on his way, like he hadn’t likely just saved your life. You stare after his retreating frame for a long while, long enough that eventually, Azhdaha begins lipping at your ear and pulling your attention back from whatever dimension it had faded off to.

You shouldn’t.

But you had to know.

Why he’d left, what he’d been doing, why he’d come back, why he had attempted to leverage your hand…questions that burned too brightly to simply be extinguished, no matter how hard you tried.

With a sigh,you finally mount your horse once more, wincing in pain as you settle into the saddle. Usually, before returning to the palace, you would take Azhdaha on a good, hearty gallop, get him good and lathered up before returning to the stables for the eve, but even your crotchety old steed can sense your body is simply not up for it today. He had always been gentle with you, but today even more than usual as he walks you back to the castle.

Seems you had a dinner to attend.

Taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @dustofthedailylife @theheartshaker @rjssierjrie Want to be added to the list? shoot me an ask~

#Silentmothwrites #Moth is not silent #Moths fragile as a brick wall #Zhongli x reader #Zhongli x reader smut #(eventual)

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theladyofdeath · 2 years

Note

humbly requesting Aelin bathing Rowan/washing his hair because domestic fluff

Ship: Rowaelin, Throne of Glass Trope: domestic fluff, canon, pregnancy T/W: none WC: 832 A/N: ANYTHING to be able to use Geralt's chest as a Rowan header.

Aelin is lying in bed with a newly opened book when Rowan storms into their bedroom, hair in disarray and covered in splotches of bruises and splatters of blood. The Queen of Terrasen merely blinks at her husband before he disappears into the bathing chambers.

"I don't even get a hello?" she calls after him, placing a ribbon between the pages before closing her book.

She can hear him sigh. "Hello."

After waiting a few seconds for him to go on, Aelin hops off the bed and follows him into the washroom where he's stripping off his weapons, one by one. As she crosses her arms, she leans against the doorframe. "I assume it was not a fun day of training?"

"The new recruits are growing stronger," he says, leaning down to untie his boots. "Meanwhile, I'm regretting offering to oversee their progress myself. I went up against nearly one hundred of them today and they all got a few hits on me. Luckily, that means our army grows stronger...but, regretfully, I have a few wounds that need tending to."

Aelin huffs a laugh as she steps forward. "Well, I'm jealous," she begins, helping him unbutton his tunic once he's back to full height. "I would kill to be able to train, let off some steam."

Rowan's eyes soften as he steps toward his wife and lays his dirty, cut up hands on the bump that has grown on Aelin's abdomen. "Ten more weeks," he promises, "then you can plan on showing your armies just how powerful their Queen is."

"That's right," Aelin smiles, but when he leans down to kiss her, she shakes her head. "You smell horrible, Buzzard. Undress. Pants off."

With a dramatic roll of his eyes that Aelin swears he picked up from her, he takes off the rest of his shirt and his pants while Aelin fills the bath with hot water.

He practically groans as he sinks into the water only to have Aelin disrobe and climb in with him. He gives her a rare, sloppy smile as she dips a rag into the soapy, lavender scented water and runs it over his chest and up his neck, washing the dirt away.

"You spoil me," he says, voice low as he leans back against the porcelain, arms resting on the edges.

"I have to spoil you now," she smiles, running the cloth down his arms. "In ten weeks, I'll be too busy giving all of my attention to your son."

Rowan chuckles and watches as Aelin pulls him forward and runs the cloth down his back. "You're so convinced the babe a male."

"That's because he is," Aelin croons, taking the silver pitcher off the ledge next to them and filling it with the water. "Mother's intuition."

"We'll see," Rowan mutters as he tilts his head back and Aelin drenches his hair with warm water. She crawls further onto his lap as she lathers her hands with shampoo and runs it through his tangled, silvery strands. His eyes close and he moans as her fingers massage his scalp. "I don't care what the babe is. I will love them no matter what. As long as they have a heart like their mother's, I will be proud."

As her fingers slowed, Rowan's eyes opened once more and found his wife's eyes shining.

"Don't cry," he pleads, head cocked to the side. "At least not until you're done with my hair."

Aelin laughs quietly as she jabs him in the shoulder. As her fingers continue to work, she says, "I love you, Buzzard. Even if you drive me mad. You're going to be an amazing father."

"I love you too," he promises, "and I can't wait to be the father of our child. To raise them alongside you. To watch them grow and learn. To one day watch them rule this kingdom that we've built." That burning returns to Aelin's eyes as her hands slide down his shoulders and his chest, and into the water to wash the soap off. "You are going to be an incredible mother, Fireheart, and I am so very proud of you."

A tear slides down her cheek as she softly brings her lips to his. When she pulls back, she suppresses a grin. "Even with the loveliest words coming out of your mouth, I cannot take you seriously with soap in your hair."

Rowan's eyes narrow, his humor bringing the slightest twist to his lips. "Better rinse it out, then, so I can say more lovely words to you."

Aelin does just that, refilling the silver pitcher and running it through his hair until there's no soap left. Then, he's hers and she claims him, even though he's sore from spending his day doing his kingly duties.

He does not complain, though. He would never complain, not when it comes to his wife. His queen. His mate. The mother of his child. The love of his life.

She was his love.

And he was hers.

#rowaelin #rowan #aelin #tog #throne of glass #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #tara answers prompts #canon

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zeldacd · 1 year

Note

Hi there!! Taking a chance to say that I love your art very much, your style is wonderful!

Talking about requests, I'm curious to see Ordovica's interaction with other characters or some fragments from her story (I love her design sm). She's a very interesting character to see more of! Or maybe you'd like to draw Link or Gan with some flowers?👀 (any idea by you)

HIII OMGG thank you so much!! That really means a lot to me!! Your art and ocs are wonderful as well ^w^

I'm also happy you like Ordovica, Zoras are my FAVORITE Zelda race I just think they're all soooooo gorgeous. (I like all the different games' designs but i think its obvious botw zoras are my favorite of all)

Ordovica is actually the Queen of my AU's Lake Zoras (I have river Zoras in my au as well so there's a bit of a distinction) and Prince Kaluga (pictured) is her son! He's a momma's boy but she just wants him to prove he can take place on the throne cause he has no ambition, he just kinda acts on whims. and is a bit spoiled lolol.

It might be somewhat clear by her appearance, but she is a Lich Queen. Despite being immortal she has a history of Hylians attempting to take her life lol. Obviously they were failed efforts and the only way to truly kill her is to destroy her soul gem, which is kept guarded deep beneath Zora's Domain.

Which i actually have an old concept drawing of! (and is my header on my theme)

So the entire lake is frozen for a majority of the year (only for 3 summer months is it thawed), but even so beneath the ice and further into the depths of the lake the temperature is warmer due to many hydrothermal vents (it makes many pretty frozen bubbles on the clear ice of the surface as well lol) The Zora's actually have a large portion of their kingdom underwater, so this is why I designed Ordovica and Kaluga both based on deep sea fish. (Which are a chimaera/ghost shark and an oarfish, respectively)

The Lake Zora Kingdom is also a very large kingdom, maybe even rivaling Hyrule kingdom in population bc its made up of multiple aquatic races and not just Lake Zoras (though they are the majority).

Anyways so Ordovica (and her son) historically have been very brutal rulers, the Lake Zora Kingdom and the Kingdom of Hyrule are not currently in good standing with one another (haven't been for centuries) so most Lake Zoras are hostile to humans. They can be very violent and scary if you cross them. And the mother/son duo in particular have no qualms about killing humans. Though Kaluga is a bit strange bc he doesn't harbor any hatred for humans in particular, he just has a violent nature.

Omg sorry to ramble but thank you for reading this far!!! and thank you so much for the ask/request!!!

#ask #cuterozhok #loz au #my au #tloz #loz #zelda #zora #zora oc #au lore #ordovica #kaluga

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ismahanescorner · 1 year

Text

Fourth Wing | Book Review

Author: Rebecca Yarros

Series: The Empyrean (Book #1)

Genre: NA Fantasy, Romantasy

Publisher: Entangled Publishing

Release Date: 02/05/2023

Rating: 4/5 🌟🌟🌟🌟

Synopsis:

Twenty-year-old Violet Sorrengail was supposed to enter the Scribe Quadrant, living a quiet life among books and history. Now, the commanding general—also known as her tough-as-talons mother—has ordered Violet to join the hundreds of candidates striving to become the elite of Navarre: dragon riders. But when you’re smaller than everyone else and your body is brittle, death is only a heartbeat away...because dragons don’t bond to “fragile” humans. They incinerate them. With fewer dragons willing to bond than cadets, most would kill Violet to better their own chances of success. The rest would kill her just for being her mother’s daughter—like Xaden Riorson, the most powerful and ruthless wingleader in the Riders Quadrant. She’ll need every edge her wits can give her just to see the next sunrise. Yet, with every day that passes, the war outside grows more deadly, the kingdom's protective wards are failing, and the death toll continues to rise. Even worse, Violet begins to suspect leadership is hiding a terrible secret.

Friends, enemies, lovers. Everyone at Basgiath War College has an agenda—because once you enter, there are only two ways out: graduate or die.

Review:

alright! let’s get this review done with!

is the novel a clichés minefield? yes! if you go on google and search “chosen one” archetype tropes; you’ll get list responses with all the characteristics associated with that archetype and you’ll realize that the author probably printed one of them and went to town with green marker checking all them off!

mc comes from prestigious family that makes them popular/puts a target on their back? ✅

mc gets in to school against all odds? ✅

mc has cool sidekicks that help them persevere against instant rivals? ✅

mc has a badass animal companion? ✅✅ (yes, this bitch got two dragons!)

mc unlocks/possess a long forgotten (but coveted) powers? ✅

is it worth the hype? kinda, it depends on you, your taste, and your mood! i personally think that most “hyped” books aren’t worth it; but some are definitely entertaining!

is it entertaining? YES!!! (TO ME!!) i am currently going through a rough depressive episode and this book actually provided me with a much needed reprieve from my own thoughts. and now i got a new dragon world and lore to add to my maladaptive daydream catalogue for future scenarios!! 😌😁

in all seriousness, i really enjoyed the lore and the creation myth behind this world. i especially liked that the info-dumping of these tidbits was done through the chapter header quotations or violet rattling off to de-stress! also i’m not a big fan of flower-y fancy adult “high fantasy” language, it usually leaves me confused and wandering so i quite liked the simple, straightforward language and writing style the author chose to use.

i wish there was much to talk about plot-wise but as i pointed out above, the entire novel is literally just one “chosen one” trope after the other. thus, if you’re a big fantasy reader you’ll predict every twist and turn chapters ahead. but again, this didn’t hinder me from enjoying the story.

as for the characters; most of them were very one-dimensional and very caricature-y. i hope the hype doesn’t go into the author’s head and she works on fleshing them out in the next books. for instance, i would love a deeper exploration of the complex mother-daughter (children in fact) relationship between the general and violet. also as person who lives with chronic pain i’d be happy to see a layered exposition of how violet reconciles her “fragile” body with her new position as a dragon rider. also i hope that in the next books rhianonn is more than the black (poc) best friend who furthers the mc’s arc, and ridoc is more than just the class clown with a heart of gold; and i hope xaden gets a personality beyond a hot body, a charming smirk, and smoke (shadow) works!

overall, the story lacks much substance when it comes to plot and characters (hopefully that will change going forward) but still the lore and myths, as well as the action are compelling enough and very entertaining!

nb: i listened to the audiobook while reading this novel, and i must note that the first 15 chapters or so were disturbing to listen to as it was obvious that the narrator was battening a cold/flu and her breath intakes and stops were triggered my sensory issues! beyond that the narration was quite good at the end and the narrator played out those scenes very well.

ps: can the author please provide an e-version of the continent’s map like she did for the school!!! I need it!!

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angstbag · 2 years

Text

　　　　FILL THEIR HOUSE WITH RACCOONS!

　　　　　 CARRD　REQUESTS: closed

　　　　　 MAIN: @fireowll 　( :̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:★:]̲̅ :̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

CREDITS:

reply icon frames: @luvecupid ⋆ psd: shalzpie

ITALIC : selective.

EDITS: icons (pride, reply, matching), layouts (tumblr), headers (tumblr), wallpapers, color-picked flags, moodboards, names.

SOURCES: project sekai, enstars, bandori, cookie run kingdom, danganronpa, villainous, fnaf security breach, doki doki literature club, cuphead, a hat in time.

ONLY FOR MUTUALS: genshin impact.

BLACKLIST: scene/scenecore. punk. neon. traumacore. weirdcore. dreamcore. yanderecore. william afton (fnaf). ha1j1 t0w@ (danganronpa). ped0philia, incest, ect. real people. dream smp. harry potter. kaeya x diluc. helluva boss. hazbin hotel. maybe there's something i forgot.

RULES: give credits and reblog if you use any of my edits. don't use my edits if you're on my dni. when requesting, request by asks. please specify the wallpaper dimensions if you request it. be patient, i have school and home stuff to do and this is just a hobby for me. be polite, i'm not a robot that does anything you want. i have the right and i will deny any request i do not want to do. i am not obligated to give you a reason why your request was denied. do not edit or repost my edits.

DNI: basic dni criteria, bolsominion, anti-mogai, anti-xenogender, anti-neopronouns, endo system, tells people to kill themselves or cut themselves, disrespects trauma, yells at people because of mistakes, pro life, believes pronouns = gender, dsmp fan / dream stan, supporters of anything on this list, more

#🌙: pinned post!! ☆★#🌙: text!! ☆★#🌙: reblog!! ☆★#🌙: ask!! ☆★#🌙: self indulgent!! ☆★#🌙: request!! ☆★#🌙: request declined!! ☆★#🌙: request pending!! ☆★#🌙: request completed!! ☆★#🌙: promo!! ☆★

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bea-like-me · 2 years

Text

Welcome to my little goblin cave!

Here are some things about me and mi tumblr:

Usernamed after cowboy like me by miss taylor swift

it's pronounced be-e-ah

my name is Beatriz so that's a nickname/abreviation

die hard jancy and hinny shipper

I like star wars, especially the og trilogy and the prequels

book lover - currently reading addie larue by v.e. schwab

favorite disney princess: anastasia and jasmine

currently obsessing over rom coms, the ocean, chris nolan, literary classics and billy joel

maisie peters owns my life and soul

pretty basic as a person, but I'm like really funny

in love with the idea of love

lil bit of a swiftie, but also into laufey, billy joel ans vance joy

some of my favorite books are: the book thief, catcher in the rye, since you've been gone, the bell jar, to kill a kingdom and I definitely had a red queen phase somewhere in 2021

some of my favorite movies include: la la land, nolan's batman trilogy, interstellar and CODA

some of my comfort movies include: 10 things i hate about you, cinderella 2015, set it up, monte carlo, no reservations, when harry met sally and before sunrise

I might be becoming a film bro, so just... beware

I am always happy to answer any asks

icon//@iconsfilms

header// via pinterest

That's pretty much it!

Love ya♡

Feel free and welcome to join my weird corner of random

also, here's my pinterest

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takemus · 1 year

Note

(late but i saw your tags on one of the rbs, Please Go Off about your OCs-)

OASDHGKS now im kinda embarrassed to do this but ig i can give some super quick couple-liner gists of them under the cut

alex

ice phoenix and former prince of a destroyed kingdom meant to be a sanctuary for non-human entities (such as mythical and other supernatural beings) that wanted to also eventually welcome humans (long story short: shit happened and this never came to be)

outwardly cold and aloof; inwardly soft and cares quite a bit. gender af and has an air of melancholy to him. he was actually playful and mischievous as a kid...losing everything does that to you

cain

literally Just a Dude (at first). first human to enter the kingdom described above as a trial to see if other humans can be welcomed. winds up falling in love with alex. dies due to the Shit that Happened and becomes the next iteration of death (so not human anymore)

really bitter and cynical as a kid; comes to be a shitposting loser as death down the line. also really hot

leon

remember the part about cain dying? yeah he kinda does that again, sorry- (as for how death dies...that's a long story. dw he does come back in the end!!)

kinda-not-really cain's kid (sorta) and is the next iteration of death after the deities kill cain (time to be determined, as are all my oc-related things). has a...rough and difficult start, but is welcomed after things get settled!

very sweet, doesnt understand the world all that much, but is doing his best! very forgiving, probably hard to make angry (will probably cry over getting mad tbh). also doted on a lot (esp by his older brother figure)

btw if you want to see what they look like, i have a group photo of the oc gang (including a friend's oc and uh. goro akechi SDKGHDSKGSH [who is the older brother figure mentioned above with leon]) as my tumblr header (mobile)! alex is the blue haired boss bitch, cain's the sunglasses-wearing black haired dumb of ass (affectionate), and leon is the beaming baby boy sitting on the sofa arm

#egg answers #elizeshiro #oc info #character death #cw character death #i actually do love my ocs #and their lore is way more extensive than this #im really embarrassed asdghdskg #so im not doing so well at expressing my love for them and everything that they do #but if you are more interested #i have a carrd for my ocs #but some of the info there is out of date #esp their backstories #but i can send it your way if interested #also leon's technically not fully developed #so there's a lot to him im not entirely sure about yet #cain's also hard to make angry so thatd actually be kinda cute if leon also inherited that from him #long post #omg the app ate this post im going to lose my fucjing shit

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tonkiinteractive · 2 years

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Metacritic void bastards

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1 is a fast-paced hardcore platformer featuring hand-crafted levels and Lightning-fast respawns. But this harmony creates envy and hatred among the most malicious subjects.įive Nights at Freddy’s: Help Wanted Five Nights at Freddy’s: Help Wanted is a collection of classic and original mini-games set in the Five Nights universe.įLATLAND Vol.1 (QUByte Interactive, Thu 30th April, $4.99) FLATLAND - Vol. Ashley Dengra is a 9th-grade artist with a sketchbook to doodle her "Original Characters" like Misa Ikko, the green-haired, feathery-eared fire sword girl with a great fluffy green tail.įinding Teddy 2 : Definitive Edition (Storybird) A little girl enters a portal to a world of fantasy called Exidus attempting to save her favorite plush friend… In Exidus, King Tarant rules over his kingdom with the love of his subjects. Or is it too late? Not if your aim is fast and smart! Armed with your sturdy crossbow, slay skeletons, witches and other abominations who will regret leaving the underworld.įeathery Ears (Ultimate Games, Fri 8th May, $9.99) A retro-styled 3D platformer that lets players come at challenges from whatever angle they want. It is your duty as first witness and sentinel to report to your people as soon as possible. Get ready to shoot a lot of robots and jump into the colorful clouds of Cloudbase Prime!ĭark Burial (Drageus Games, Fri 8th May, $3.99) A dark army approaches your lands. Move terrain to clear paths, launch enemies, and fling yourself skyward. Race, jump, slide and try not to crash - all the way from the peak to the valley! Read our Lonely Mountains: Downhill review.Ĭloudbase Prime (Floating Island, Today, $9.99) You are lost in the depths of a gas giant mining station where things have gone very, very wrong. Make your way through thick forests, narrow trails and wild rivers. Lonely Mountains: Downhill (Thunderful, Today, $19.99) Just you and your bike - take it on a thrilling ride down an unspoiled mountain landscape. Lay waste to the criminal underworld and make a killing in this hard-boiled action-comedy arcade shooter.

#Metacritic void bastards free

HUNTDOWN (Coffee Stain Studios, Tue 12th May, $19.99) In the mayhem-filled streets of the future where criminal gangs rule and cops fear to tread, only the bounty hunters can free the city from the corrupt fist of felony. Jump through classic Platformer levels with a tactical Stealth character, fight as spaceships in engaging JRPG battles, and more! Continued abuse of our services will cause your IP address to be blocked indefinitely.SuperMash (Digital Continue, Fri 8th May, $19.99) Jume’s game shop is in trouble, and she needs her brother Tomo’s help to save it! Mash together iconic genres to create never-before-seen gaming experiences. Please fill out the CAPTCHA below and then click the button to indicate that you agree to these terms. If you wish to be unblocked, you must agree that you will take immediate steps to rectify this issue. If you do not understand what is causing this behavior, please contact us here. If you promise to stop (by clicking the Agree button below), we'll unblock your connection for now, but we will immediately re-block it if we detect additional bad behavior. Overusing our search engine with a very large number of searches in a very short amount of time.Using a badly configured (or badly written) browser add-on for blocking content.Running a "scraper" or "downloader" program that either does not identify itself or uses fake headers to elude detection.Using a script or add-on that scans GameFAQs for box and screen images (such as an emulator front-end), while overloading our search engine.There is no official GameFAQs app, and we do not support nor have any contact with the makers of these unofficial apps. Continued use of these apps may cause your IP to be blocked indefinitely. This triggers our anti-spambot measures, which are designed to stop automated systems from flooding the site with traffic. Some unofficial phone apps appear to be using GameFAQs as a back-end, but they do not behave like a real web browser does.Using GameFAQs regularly with these browsers can cause temporary and even permanent IP blocks due to these additional requests. If you are using Maxthon or Brave as a browser, or have installed the Ghostery add-on, you should know that these programs send extra traffic to our servers for every page on the site that you browse.The most common causes of this issue are: Your IP address has been temporarily blocked due to a large number of HTTP requests.

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