#It doesn't even look like them anymore I-

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Guardian Angel

CW: Stalking, people breaking into your apartment (Arkham Knight and others), people brushing off an obvious issue, and violence. Be warned, there are no angels in Gotham. ~2.2k words

You have a stalker. Probably. Maybe. If you do, they're so good at covering their tracks that you're starting to believe you're just paranoid.

But it's the odd events, the trinkets moved slightly out of place, that have you checking over your shoulder.

There wasn't even any evidence at first. Your day had been completely normal. All you were doing was cooking dinner, when your nerves went on end, and goosebumps rose on your skin. The feeling of being watched, of being prey set in.

It didn't make sense, didn't have a reason, but you closed your curtains and triple checked your locks nonetheless. (The bat you keep by your bed slept next to you that night)

You would have forgotten about the incident entirely if, a week later, the same feeling crept up your spine while you walked home. You'd never walked faster to get to your building. You'd practically sprinted up the stairs to your apartment, and slammed to the door behind you.

Even within your home, it took almost the whole night for the feeling to fade.

Two times could be a coincidence, but then things started getting stranger.

You could have sworn you left your keys on the counter the night before, so why, why did you find them on the coffee table?

It makes you uneasy, almost sick, but you're already late to work. So you do the only thing you can, you brush it off.

Until it happens. A thing you can't brush off.

You knew you had used the last of the sugar yesterday. Knew it because you had made a mental note to pick some up the next time you went to the store.

But there's sugar. It's not a lot. Just enough to get you through a few days. Enough to make you think you might have just missed the last of it.

You know you're right. You know you were out of sugar and even if your coworkers laugh and tell you to get more sleep, that having an angel that refills your sugar can't be that bad, you know someone's been in your apartment.

You set traps, set cameras, get your locks changed, take note of everything. You don't get any evidence.

But you notice that your window doesn't squeak anymore when you open it. Your shower doesn't rattle when you go to start it. Your oven actually heats up to the temperature you set it to.

It's been like this for months now. And you're starting to believe that Gotham does have its own set of angels that go around trying to make your life a little easier.

That is until, you meet him.

You'd been unlucky. Gotten grabbed and dragged into the alley by your apartment by some haggard looking man waving a gun. It wasn't the first time you'd been mugged in Gotham, and you doubted it would be the last.

You had reluctantly pulled your wallet and phone out of your pockets and handed them off when an armored-clad person dropped between the gun and you.

At first, it was a relief. Being saved by Batman or Nightwing is practically a rite of passage in Gotham.

But then you watched the would-be mugger hit the ground with a sickening crunch of his arm. Then you watched your savior turn to face you, and you knew it was him.

You didn't have an explanation, you didn't have proof. You'd never even seen a glimpse of the helmet that hid his face before. But you knew. He's the one that's been following you. He's the one that's been in your home.

No amount of good deeds can overshadow how violating it feels, to know he's been watching you, observing you, doing things for you. You instinctively step back.

He only matches the distance you tried to create with a step of his own.

"Who are you? What do you want," You snap, sounding braver than you feel.

He doesn't answer at first, just tilts his head like he's studying you. You think it might be because he's never seen you think close before.

"I saved you," he says instead, completely avoiding your question. You wonder if he's expecting to be treated like a hero, if he's looking for your praise. It makes your stomach churn.

"You've been following you. You're the one who's been in my apartment," You protest, eyes darting.

You half expect someone to come help you. With the way he's dressed, with how he's carrying himself, he has to be some kind of new villian you missed on the news.

He straightens out at your accusation, "Have I?"

You almost falter, almost do chalk it up to paranoia, but you just knew. Every fiber of your being knows, "Yes," You breathe out instead, "You have."

He nods slowly, then turns his back to you. A part of you wants to run, to try and escape and scream and get as far away from the man who feels like he could make you disappear without a trace.

He bends down and scoops up your phone and wallet before turning back to you. You freeze when he walks closer, each step steady and measured, then extends your belongings to you. Your hand shakes when you snatch at them.

You half expect him to yank them away, to make you beg, but he doesn't. He only keeps his grip tight on them, forcing you to be connected while you tug helpless at your things.

He watches you with his head slightly cocked before speaking again, "And if I have?"

He's easy, robotic cadence makes your blood grow cold, "Then you should stop," You retort, voice as cold as your veins.

"And if I won't," he prompts, finally releasing his hold on your things.

"I'll go to the police," You threaten, stuffing your wallet and phone back into your pockets.

"They can't help you," he warns. It makes you uneasy, that he makes no attempt to keep space between you. Even if his body language doesn't seem dangerous, everything else about him does.

"They can contact Batman," You try instead.

He laughs. It sounds humorless, empty, "He can't help you either."

You lose your nerve then, when he pats your cheek, and the guns holstered to his side seem to glint at you. "Get home," he tells you, and it makes you feel like you're some kind of pet.

And then he's gone, leaving you to an alley empty of anything, save for you and the mugger crumpled to the ground. All you can do is go home. Sleep doesn't come for you that night.

He's sloppy, now that he knows you know. You can tell it's on purpose.

Flashes of glowing blue outside your window, your things carelessly shifted about your apartment, the broken fan that hasn't worked since you moved in left on and spinning when you come home from work.

The only place he hasn't seemed to touch is your bedroom. You're not sure if it's because he's showing some slightest form of respect or if he's simply too good at hiding his tracks for you to notice.

Both options make you feel anxious, and you constantly comb over your things for proof of his presence.

You rack your brain over it, lose sleep over it, but you can't come up with one idea of who he is and why he's doing this.

There's nothing on him in the news, nothing on the internet, not even a whisper on the streets.

It feels like it's all one big, sick game to him when your favorite flowers start showing up at your door, when your gas tank fills itself.

When you tell your coworkers, in a near panic, about your rent being mysteriously paid, they tell you it's harmless, it's kind of sweet, really.

Shouldn't you just be grateful that someone's doing all that for you? Shouldn't you be thankful to have an angel looking out for you in this city?

But you know it's not harmless. You know he's capable of so much more. You know he's no angel.

The sound of the mugger's arm snapping still haunts you.

But you don't know what to do. You're stuck, on edge, and slowly coming to terms with having to live like this forever.

That is, until your bad luck seems to get even worse. You were in your pajamas, already half asleep as you're lounging on your couch, when your world gets thrown into chaos.

There's a click in your apartment door's lock, and you have the terrifying realization that tonight's the one night you'd forgotten to throw the deadbolt.

"I told ya I could get the keys to this floor. And barely anybody lives in this building afta what happen ta Murphy," the heavy Gotham accent fills your apartment and three men file into your living room like they own it.

They freeze when they see you, and you don't hesitate to sprint for your fire escape.

You've just managed to throw your window open when one of them grabs you around the middle and hauls you back, throwing you to the floor. Your head knocks against the ground, and everything spins.

You think you whimper as they start bickering. "You said no one would be here!"

"They weren't supposed ta be! It's all supposed ta be empty," one of them snaps back. It only makes your head pound and your vision swim.

You try to push yourself off the floor, but a boot lands at the center of your back and forces you back to the ground, "We have to kill them."

Murmurs of reluctance fill the room, and for a second, you think you'll get to live.

"They saw our faces," You hear the telltale sound of a gun clicking off its safety, "I'll do it."

You flinch with the shot sounds, but no more pain comes. The weight comes off your back, and a body collapses to the floor next to you.

You lift your head just enough to see a familiar blur of blue charge at the remaining two men.

It's not so much of a fight as it is an execution. It's a struggle to keep your eyes open, but anything you can't see you can hear.

There's no mercy in his actions, all wrath and fury, and you want to laugh because, in a way, he is your guardian angel. An avenging angel, pummeling the people who threatened you into something unrecognizable.

You're sure how long it lasts, how long you hear his fists connect to their flesh. But eventually, your apartment goes quiet. The sound of fabric shuffling reaches your ears, and calloused hands carefully help you move until you're sitting up.

Warm palms press to your face you realize he's taken his gloves off. You force your eyes to open, morbidly curious if he's removed his helmet, too. You're not sure why you're disappointed he hasn't.

"Saved me again," You mumble, words almost slurring.

"You're not safe here," he says softly, and his thumb runs over your cheek like he's trying to comfort you.

"They didn't think anyone lived here," You supply, but he apparently doesn't find that very reassuring.

"Let's get you out here," he says instead, and you blame it on your head injury for being impressed at how he doesn't show any signs of struggling when he picks you up and cradles you to his chest.

"Don't have anywhere to go," you say weakly, mentally trying to do the math on how much a safe hotel would cost at this time of night.

The moonlight seems to give his helmet an odd shine as you stare hazily at him. It almost looks like a halo.

"I have a place," he tells you, already carrying you out of your apartment window.

That snaps you out of your thoughts. It makes you frown, even in your dazed state, you know you don't want to go with him. That even with the trick of the light, he's no angel.

You start to squirm, "No– no, wait–"

"You need somewhere safe to recover," he says, and he doesn't seem to notice your fidgeting. Your heart leaps to your throat, at how securely he's holding you. With anyone else, it would have felt like a promise of protection.

"I don't trust you, you're not safe," You stumble out, head growing heavy with each step he takes from your apartment.

"No one's safe. But I don't have any plans on hurting you," he murmurs, seemingly more occupied with getting you to wherever he's planning to take you.

"But you could," You exhale out, and your voice sounds weak even to yourself.

That makes him pause, and his helmet tips as if he's focusing on you, "Maybe, but I wouldn't like it."

You want to argue more, demand he set you down. But your brain feels so foggy, and you're so tired and drained that your head just kind of finds itself on his shoulder.

"You can sleep," he says, and your eyes fall shut at how soft he sounds, "I'll keep watch."

You really do want to protest, but his shoulder is surprisingly comfortable. You can't help but think, as you drift off, that your angel might have fallen far lower than you can handle.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Read II

England Lionesses x Child!Reader

Mary Earps x Child!Reader

Summary: There's a reason you don't have sugar

You hold reading lessons every day at camp because you want the rest of the England team to not be knuckleheads anymore and to prove Mikey from school wrong.

It's not easy to learn how to read so you know you need to come back to make sure everyone has been keeping up with their learning because that's what Mummy and Daddy do to you.

They started teaching you how to read very early so you were fairly advanced when you went to school.

You think Mikey's just jealous because you're a good reader and he's a bad one but, still, you want to make sure to prove him wrong.

Mary always says the best revenge is proving haters wrong. You don't know if Mikey's a hater but you'll assume he is because better safe than sorry.

You've done a good job at teaching everyone though because Maya, Millie T and Tooney all give you some sherbet sweets. They make your mouth go a little tingly when you try them but you like that feeling so the three of them keep feeding you more.

They're responsible for you while Mary's getting the last bit of treatment before you all get on the coach to go to the stadium. Usually, someone else is responsible for you but you did a quick reading lesson for Maya and Millie with Tooney as your assistant so they're supervising you before the journey.

You decide that you really like the sherbet straws they give you and Maya dares you to see how many you can finish before you have to go.

You don't count but it's definitely a lot.

Enough for you to feel super hyped when you're finally reunited with Mary. She's picked out a set of four seats with a table and she's already got your rucksack full of books open for you to pick from.

You're very advanced in your reading for such a young kid but even you struggle a little bit. Now that you've taught Mary to read, she can read very well from the books that are a bit too complicated for you right now so she's in charge of reading them to you as you drive to the pitch.

"Er..." You say as you look at the selection," That one."

"Alright," Mary says, cracking open the book and clearing her throat. She gets about halfway through before she notices how wiggly you're being. "Hey, rugrat, do you need the toilet?"

You frown. "No. Keep reading, Mary."

"Are you sure? I can take you."

"No, Mary. My book, please."

"Alright." Mary keeps reading but she's acutely aware of the way you keep wiggling in your seat.

You seem to think you're fine though. Or, at least, you don't think you need the toilet which is Mary's main worry.

"Okay," She says finally," Go and find someone to hang out with. I need to talk to Tooney."

You seem all too happy to scamper off, practically throwing yourself at Beth across the aisle.

"Tooney!" Mary snaps, interrupting the conversation she and Alessia are having.

"Jesus, Mary! You scared me there!"

"What did you give my sister?" Mary demands," She's never been like this before."

"Like what?"

"Like that!"

Mary points over to where you've decided it's a funny idea to crowd surf over the girls at the front, who are bouncing you a bit as they pass you off to the girls sitting behind them.

"She doesn't do that! She's also not wiggly on the bus! What did you give her?"

Tooney winces. "I gave her nothing!"

Mary narrows her eyes. "What did you let Millie and Maya give her?"

Tooney's eyes dart to them quickly before she clears her throat. "I've got the right to remain silent! Anything I say or do can be used against me in a court of-"

Mary's already moved off before Tooney can finish and she crosses the coach to confront the other two. "I'm not interested in excuses. Tell me what you've given my sister."

Her gaze is clearly intimidating because Maya and Millie fold instantly and Mary's on her way back to her seat, easily plucking you from someone's arms to set you back down next to her.

It seems most of the sugar rush has disappeared now but then another problem makes itself known.

The bus goes over a series of bumps and you make a little aborted movement forward.

Mary recognises the action and whips out a plastic bag. "Here, rugrat," She says," Let it out. Let it all out."

She rubs your back as you throw up. It takes a lot longer than usual to hurl up your guts and Mary narrows her eyes over the top of her seat to look at Millie and Maya.

This is all their fault, Mary knows it.

It's because of all of the sugar you've consumed that you've thrown up so bad and, as she ties the bag shut, Mary briefly contemplates throwing it at Millie and Maya.

"Juice, please," You say and Mary hands it to you," Sorry, Mary."

"It's okay," She says," It's not your fault. Do you want to continue your book?"

You nod, leaning against your sister, energy drained. "Yes, please."

[eupheme]

Your best friend Wade who always jokingly flirts with you the way he flirts with everyone - and you hate it because you have a real genuine crush on him and the flirting doesn’t mean anything… does it? It has to take a mutual friend to be like “oh my god he’s in love with you and doesn’t know how to tell you, so that’s why he’s always joking about boners” (please and thank u ilu 😌)

omg avo this kicked my ass, the amount of pining for Wade as he (jokingly, you think) flirts with you would be off the charts 🥲💖 I wrote a little drabble with how that might go, I love you and your ideas - thanks so much for sending this to me!!!

— cause every time we touch (i get this feeling)

best friend!wade wilson x mutant!reader

<1k | flirting, dirty jokes, heaps of pining

Blow job. Leg Spreader. Slippery Nipple. Liquid Viagra. Sex on the Pool Table. Pink Silk Panties.

Each time Wade comes into Sister Margaret’s - which is four or five times a week - he asks for dirtier and more obscure drinks.

"Wishful thinking", he tells you, each time.

Even with the roll of your eyes, you have to admit that it keeps you on your toes. That you look forward to seeing your best friend so often - tamping down the jolt in your belly, night after night.

Reminding yourself that yes, he got you this job, but he's not here to see you.

That this always was his spot.

It had been an easy sell. Used to working overnight shifts - security, back then. After the disaster with Weasel, they had been desperate for a replacement. Wade had come to you immediately, dropping to his knees as you opened the door.

Winning you over with a "you could literally get paid to hang out with me. How is this not a win-win-win? How is this not your dream job?"

And here, you didn't have to hide what or who you were. Reading feelings and intent were a bonus, when a handshake could tell you everything you needed to know. Their feelings spilled as easily as they were written, when you were negotiating contracts.

It also helped in-house. A human lie detector. Able to break up fights, settle arguments. A party trick, when things got slow. The regulars trying to get things past you - tales based in truth spun tall, seeing when you'd catch them.

Wade never plays, but you think that's because you know him so well.

And what seems like a sell, quickly evolves into more. Warping, as days pass. Spending more time with a crush sounds tempting, on paper.

The reality is something else.

Yes, there is a seat saved for him at the bar. Literally saved - his name scrawled across the vinyl, and you still haven't been able to scrub it out. Stopping by at all hours to chit chat.

Teasing you - how he's "so glad he doesn't have to stalk you at your old job anymore". An over-the-top sigh about being relieved that you're safe now - in your new job, surrounded by mercs.

Begging for the best job. Puppy-dog eyes. Fake coupons for favors that would make a sinner blush. Crossing his heart that you could have anything, and he means anything you wanted, if he could only get "that thing involving the murder clowns".

It's enough to make you hope.

Later, at home - in the early hours as you're pulled under. Replaying his comments. The filthy jokes and the shameless flirting - wondering if that's all they were.

Wondering if he'd be waiting for you tomorrow, perched on his stool.

But there's the downfall.

You see him - but you also see him with everyone else.

The charming smiles. Head thrown back in a laugh as he works the room. A friend to all, and as you watch him - perched on the knee of a goddess of mercenary as he yaps away, you can't help the swift current of jealousy.

Of foolishness.

It's enough that you're almost regretting agreeing.

Your mood is sullen, as you wipe down glasses. Trying to ignore the ache when you see him flirt. That realization that the something special you thought he had with you, might just be a part of his personality.

And when Dopinder shuffles from the back with more ice for the chiller behind the bar, it only takes one look at you before he's sighing.

"Not again. Please, I am begging you. I cannot take more of your yearning.”

Your lips quirk. Hadn't realized you'd become that obvious. He'd become your go-to, in the long hours you spend together behind the bar. Pinkie-promising not to say a word - but you always thought you'd had a decent handle on your expressions.

"We don't have to talk about it." Your hands raise, placating, "Just let me yearn in peace. I'll get over it."

"You know that almost half of what DP makes a month is funneled back in here, right?" He gives you a long look, "Before you, I saw him once a week. I had to beg him to come get his paycheck."

Doubt still lingers.

"Doesn't mean anything," You shrug - eyes dropping, as you help him restock.

"You do not think Mr. Pool worships the ground you walk on?"

The intensity of his question has you side-eying him, "I mean... I don't think he sees me that way. He acts the same with me as he does with everyone."

“Sure.” He huffs, leaning against the bartop, just as Wade plunks down in the seat in front of you.

“God, I haven’t been over here in like-,” Wade checks a fake watch, “Fifteen minutes? Feels like longer. Felt like a fucking hour.”

Pivoting back and forth on the stool as he adds, “Is it possible for people to get separation anxiety? Or is that just dogs? Is this how Dogpool feels when I’m gone?”

You just manage to catch the last bit, as Dopinder slips away.

“Exactly the same.”

Tonight, Wade is the first person that sits down in front of you for the game.

A frown, as you peel off your gloves - your barrier, to the outside world.

His own already bare - sliding back-and-forth over his suit-clad thighs. You'd mistake it for nerves, if you weren't so sure Wade had never been nervous in his life.

"What's your story, Wilson?" You ask, "Hope you brought something good."

"Oh, it's a whopper. A real fucking doozy. Apparently, you're not gonna believe it. " His laugh is a little too loud, and your eyes narrow, "But let's give it a whirl, okay?"

There's a flicker, behind the bar. A sideways look towards the bar, where Dopinder's hands cover his face. You don't need to touch him to read the guilt written across his features - the way he almost flinches, under your glare.

You're going to fucking kill him.

The sound of your name brings you back.

“Ready to play?”

Wade's hands rest face-up on the table - an offering. For once in his life he almost looks serious, and it’s enough to bring you back.

A breath - before you align your own. Letting them drop down, skin mapping against skin for the first time.

It floods through you.

The lick of heat that almost feels like a caress. A deep yearn that causes your own heart to twinge, layering with the feeling of need. Desire. Want.

It's familiar. It mirrors something deep inside, something that’s become as much a part of you as flesh and bone.

Oh.

A laugh slips from you, breaking the beat of silence. Relief tinged with disbelief - your smile stretching wide.

“Yeah?” You breathe, softening.

“Yeah.” He laughs, “Thought I was being obvious. But you are pound-cake dense, apparently.”

Hands flipping over, to entwine between yours. Letting that feeling inside him linger, settling warm and comforting over your bare skin.

“But I like that about you.” Another huff of a laugh, “Like all of you, really. Always have.”

It makes your heart ache. In a way that finally feels full, feels right - instead of the near-agony you’ve been bearing for weeks.

Only you could be such an idiot.

thanks for reading! 💖

[justmymindandstuff]

Can you do Aemond x f!reader? And the reader being a lot like Helaena (I'm projecting lol, I want an autistic reader basically). Just fluff between them, maybe newlywed?

Learn to Love you - Aemond Targaryen x WifeReader

summary: Aemond tries to understand his new wife, but you are too much like his sister. He can't get through to you. One evening he tries it with direct confrontation and is rewarded with a glimpse of you and hope for the future. After this evening his wife is not a complete stranger anymore.

words: 2.818

warnings: softAemond, a bit angst

a/n: based on the request above. Unfortunately it didn't turn out quite as fluffy as it should. I hope you like it anyway :) I'm not autistic myself and don't want to hurt any feelings with the portrayl of the Reader. I based her on Helaena in the show.

Gif not mine// English is not my first language// no use of Y/N // AO3 // not proofread// requests are open

Aemond moves quietly through the halls of his home. The Red Keep slowly goes calm. The sun has already set, and most have retreated to their private chambers. Aemond is tired and longs for his own chambers and his bed. He had spent the evening a little longer than usual talking with Ser Criston. The sworn shield of his mother and he had trained together in the courtyard in the morning. Criston had discussed a few improvements with him. If his sore muscles would allow it, Aemond would try out the improvements tomorrow. But before he can retreat for the evening, he still has a task to complete. He still has his evening visit with his wife to attend to.

His marriage is not really how he imagine it would be. It's been almost a week since you two got married. You've known each other for 10 days. When you arrived at the Red Keep and he saw you for the first time, he had been relieved. A pretty face and a friendly smile had greeted him. Aemond tried to get to know you and realized that you are more than just a pretty face. You are nice, polite, smart, well-read, but strange. Often you drift off into your own world. Captured by your thoughts. You will be in a place where Aemond cannot follow you. And he quickly realized that you can't stand it when he touches you.

During your wedding ceremony, you didn't touch him more than necessary. The touch of your lips almost triggered a panic attack for you. You tore your hand away from his. Aemond would have liked to hold your hand a little longer. On this night, he did not dare to lay with you. This didn´t change over the last week, so you are still a maiden. Not that Aemond has told anyone, and as far as he knows, you haven't said a word either.

Maybe it's because he is a stranger to you? Aemond doesn't really know what to do. He doesn't like the situation. But he also doesn't know how he should change it. His usual solution, Vhagar, will definitely not work here.

He tried to seek advice from his brother. I don't know. With Helaena, it was different. I knew her well before we got married. For your wife, you are just a stranger. Aegon is right but Aemond didn't know how to change that.

So he went to his mother. Give her time to get to know you.

Both pieces of advice only led him to visit you every evening and try to get to know you. However, you mostly sit there in awkward silence and do not look at each other. You still feel uncomfortable in his presence he knows this.

Arriving at your chambers, he takes a deep breath once more and steps inside. The room is still lit by a few candles. He closes the door and watches as you pace restlessly in front of the fireplace.

"You are later than usual." you say, stopping in your movement. Now that Aemond is here, the unrest fades a little. Still, it bothers you that he doesn't come to visit you during his usual time frame. It's actually almost time for you to call your maids so they can help you change and you can go to sleep.

“I apologize for being late.” Aemond says even though he doesn't understand why it bothers you. Have you already gotten your hopes up that he won't come today? You look at him for a moment and then nod.

Without saying a word, you sit down in the armchair by the fireplace where you sit every evening. Aemond takes off his sword belt and places his weapon next to the door. He had considered that it might make you nervous that he carries a sword with him. So he puts down his weapon every evening before he sits down with you. Fortunately, you know nothing about the dagger in his boot.

Aemond even had a dagger made for you as a wedding gift. A beautiful weapon, with a gracefully curved handle and on the blade, just before the hilt begins, is a small dragon embossed that is inspired by Vhagar. Aemond hasn't had the chance to give you this gift yet. He knows that you need to get to know him better in order to understand the thought behind it. You should always be able to protect yourself, in case he might not be able to someday.

He shakes off the thought and sits down in the other armchair next to the fireplace. You don't look at him, but into the flames. Just like every evening. When you start to speak in a quiet voice he almost flinches.

"Why are you later than usual?" your hands are playing with the fabric of your skirt. You haven't changed for the night yet. You´re never when Aemond comes into your chambers. Even your hair is still braided into tight braids. Aemond feels like a visitor in his wife's chambers.

"I discussed my training with Ser Criston. There were a few problems this morning," he replies honestly.

Your face shows no reaction as you respond. “Are you hurt?”

Are you worried about him? No. Why should you? He is a stranger to you. But he still worries about you even though you are a stranger to him. After all, you are married. He wished he could read your thoughts.

"No, I am not hurt. Even though I don't really want it, Ser Criston is always a bit cautious during training with me." he is trying to ease your worries. If you are worried. Again, he tries to read your expression, but your face remains still. Your only reaction is that you turn your head to look at him. The fire in the fireplace casts warm light on your profile and your skin shimmers almost like gold. Once again, Aemond notices how beautiful you are. You look at him, and your gaze prompts Aemond to continue speaking. "I don't want him to hold back because, in a serious situation, my opponent won't hold back either."

"Which serious situation?" you still ask in a quiet voice.

"I don't know. If my family is in danger." and then he adds quietly. "If you are in danger."

The corner of your mouth twitch slightly and you almost smile. Then you turn your gaze away again and look into the fireplace. Aemond suppresses the urge to reach for your hand in your lap. Silence spreads again between you. The uncomfortable silence causes a hot burning sensation in Aemond's gut. Still, he can't take his eyes off you. You seem a bit sad. He decides that it can't go on like this. Aemond has to swallow and gathers all his courage to speak again.

"You are not happy."

This time you turn not just your head towards him but your whole body. He is surprised when your gaze meets him and you look directly into his eyes. Rarely can you hold his gaze. Your eyebrows furrow slightly as you think. It takes a moment before you respond.

"No. No, it's just that it's hard for me. My father brought me here, and this is a strange place for me. All the people around me are strangers. I miss my family and my home. Everything I knew was taken away from me. I was used to everything at home. I had my routines and everything. It's hard for me to adjust to all these new things around me. But it doesn't have anything to do with you."

Aemond is surprised by your words and needs a moment to truly understand what you have said. Guilt overwhelms him. It is his fault that you were kidnapped from your home. Because you had to marry him.

"I'm sorry," he says. Now it is him who cannot withstand your gaze and he looks at his hands.

"I don't blame you." once again, you surprise him your voice is now a bit firmer. "It wasn't your decision to marry me. Just as it was not my decision to marry you. That was agreed upon by our parents." you sigh. "You are not happy either. And that is my fault. I know that I'm weird."

"No! I don't find you weird."

You laugh softly and at the sound Aemond's heart skips a beat. He is looking at you again, he wants to hear you laugh once more.

"You don't have to lie."

"I am not lying. I don't find you weird. You remind me of my sister."

Your eyes start to shine. "Hel. I like her a lot."

He feels a slight tug at his heart. Aemond knows that you usually spend your days in the company of his sister Helaena. He has seen both of you walking in the garden a few times or engrossed in conversation while eating. He would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous of Helaena.

"Yes, I know. Do you spend a lot of time with her?“

You nod. "Yes. I enjoy being with her." "What are you doing all day?"“ Aemond is clinging to every strand. Everything is better than this uncomfortable silence between you.

"Oh, very different things. Sometimes we read together, or she explains something to me about insects. Sometimes I read one of my poems to her. Or I’ll give her one to read."

Aemond is captivated by the sparkle in your eyes.

"You write poetry?" he asks, annoyed with himself for not knowing this about you, but Hel did. Your cheeks are slightly turning red, and for the first time, Aemond feels like he can read your emotions from your face.

"Yes, among with other things. I also enjoy reading poetry. My favorite poet is Marcus Hill. He writes incredibly well. My poems are not even close to being that good. But I don't just write poems, I also write short stories. This helps me organize my thoughts better. But I like most writing poems.“ you speak a little faster than usual, which reveals your excitement to Aemond. He can't help but smile at the sight. Now that you are passionately talking about your interests, you are even more beautiful.

Suddenly you jump up from your chair. Aemond's hand instinctively goes to where his sword's hilt usually is. In the next second, it becomes clear to him that there is no danger, and he relaxes again. You didn't notice anything because you turned away immediately and took a few uncertain steps through your chamber before turning back to him. Uncertain, your hands begin to play with the fabric of your skirt. You take a deep breath and then search for his gaze for a second before looking away again. Aemond leans forward a bit, tense with anticipation. Finally you start to speak. "Would you like to… I mean just if you want? You don't have to." You stop yourself, take a deep breath and gathering your thoughts. "Would you like to read one of my poems?" you ask softly.

Aemonds heart skips a beat and a pleasant warmth spreads within him. "Yes. Very gladly."

You nod, turn back around, and walk to your nightstand. You pick up a book with a leather cover and open it. Aemond notices from his seat that it is stuffed with written pages, and almost every book page is filled with your neat handwriting. You rummage through the loose papers and then pull out a page before you close the book again and carefully place it back in its spot. You are coming back to him.

"I wrote this on the day of our wedding," you say, handing him the sheet of paper. In that moment, your fingertips brush against his. The touch is so fleeting that Aemond is not sure if he might have just imagined it.

He turns his gaze away from you and directs it to the folded paper between his fingers. He wants to open it to read your poem, but before he has really moved his fingers, your hand shoots forward and holds his hand firmly. Aemond skin tingles and he lightly closes his hands around yours.

"No. Please don't read it here. That would be too embarrassing for me. Please read it later and tell me tomorrow what you thought," you say quickly. Aemond looks up again and directly into your eyes. He saw you that close for the last time on your wedding day in the sept. A shiver runs through his body and he can only nod. You also nod and allow him to briefly squeeze your hand before you pull back and sit down again in your chair opposite to him. He already misses the feeling of your soft skin under his fingers.

Aemond folds the paper with your face completely again and then puts it in the pocket of his shirt. Suddenly, this piece of paper is his most precious possession.

"Now you know something about me." you notice. Aemond can't gauge whether the fact bothers you or not. He hopes it  doesn´t. Before he can ask, you are already speaking again. "You like sword training. I could watch your training?” you suggest.

Aemond thinks about the training courtyard. About the loud clashing of the swords striking against each other, the sreams of the knights, the swearing and the rough manner of speaking among men. And then he thinks of you, his gentle, fragile wife. Sometimes the gentle background music that plays during dinner is too loud for you. You would hate it.

"No, this is not a suitable environment for you, my Lady. The men do not know how to behave in the presence of a princess." he explains.

"Oh."

Aemond sees how you stiffen a little again and turn your gaze back towards the fireplace. The fire is almost out. Aemond is afraid that the closeness he has found today will slip away from him again, and as a result, he starts to speak a bit too quickly.

"But if you want, I can join you on your walk tomorrow?" he is momentarily afraid that this will disrupt your routine, but you look at him again.

"Yes, that would be nice. I always take a stroll through Queen Alyssa's garden after afternoon tea."

Aemond must suppress a smile. He is, of course, well informed about your daily routine. Even though he hasn't really been able to talk to you until today, he has always kept a close eye on what you're doing. "I am happy to be allow to accompany you." his gaze falls on your hands folded in your lap, and once again, longing pulls at him to reach for your hand. "When we go for a walk. Would you allow me to hold your hand then? I know you don't like my touches. But...

"No. It's not your touches that I don't like.I don't like touches from anyone, regardless of who." you clarify things quickly. "But yes. I will allow it. I know about it know, so I can prepare myself for it. If I´m prepared I can hold your hand.”

This time Aemond cannot suppress his smile. A pleasant anticipation for tomorrow fills him and he feels as if he has made a significant step forward in his marriage today.

The ringing of the bell in the great sept makes you both flinch. Startled you look out the window, then you get up and walk through your rooms. "I have to call my maids and go to bed.It's already past my usual time."

Aemond quickly gets up as well and nods. Bad conscience about the fact that he disrupted your routine today weighs on him. He turns to the door and goes to his sword belt to put it back on. As he just fastens the buckle and turns to leave, you turn to him once more.

"Thank you, Aemond. Our conversation was good for me. I enjoyed it very much. I´m looking forward to our walk tomorrow and I'm curious to hear what you think of my poem."  and then you smile directly at him for the first time.

His heart starts to race immediately, and Aemond is sure that he has just fallen in love. Unconsciously, he places his hand on the pocket where he has put your poem. Then he returns your smile.

"Yes, I also enjoyed it very much. Good night, my Lady Wife. I will see you tomorrow."

"Good night, my Lord Husband.” you respond still with a smile on your face.  

Aemond nods briefly and then leaves your chambers. His steps are light, and he intends to speak with the steward first thing tomorrow morning so that he can arrange for the poet Marcus Hill to be invited to the Red Keep as soon as possible.

[felibrary]

╭──╯GOOD DAYS | even as the snow falls atop his hair and the colorful fireworks launch in the distance, sylus can't help but keep his eyes off of you.

pairing: sylus x reader (gender neutral) | content & warnings: just some toothrotting fluff, bit of banter and bicker, reader is implied to be shorter than sylus, possibly ooc sylus | wordcount: 1.1k ; ficlet

author's note: this is based off his nightplume card with my own little add-ons lolll (also i don't even play lad anymore..so if you see any mischaracterizations here..yeah..)

A/N: Loll finally posted again and it's lad haha, enjoy!!

"sylus, i'm cold."

your boyfriend raises his brow and sighs, having the audacity to act disappointed. "i've warned you about the cold weather. should've listened to me about wearing a scarf," he smirks while you on the other hand only huff, frown deepening.

"well, i didn't know it'd be this cold," you shudder as the snowflakes meet your nape and slowly dissolve.

you're pretty sure you look absolutely ridiculous right now — with a runny nose and a hoarse voice complaining about something you're at fault for, to sylus who simply enjoys watching your dilemma and chuckles in amusement.

there aren’t often moments when sylus feels at ease, always on the lookout if something happens to you when he isn’t around. but he knows that if he stays by your side there won’t ever be something bad happening to you — he makes sure of that and instead decides to enjoy these simple but meaningful moments with you.

so maybe these little moments make him pay less attention to his surroundings than usual, oblivious to the snow that gets stuck in his hair and you can’t help but cackle a bit. “what?” he asks curiously. “there’s snow in your hair,” you point out. sylus’ gaze drifts up for a split-second before smiling and lowering his head. “help me,” his voice is soft as he requests you to help him.

even through hands covered in mittens, you can feel how soft sylus’ hair is, you play with his hair for a bit, rubbing your hand over his head before finally brushing the remaining snow out. “be careful, even a crow can turn into a dove in this weather,” you smile. “a crow? what a funny thing of you to say,” sylus returns your smile before turning his head away from you to look at the fireworks and so do you.

the fireworks are pretty, magnificent even. they vary in size, motive, and color but despite all of that each of them is unique and beautiful in its own way, making it unable to rip your eyes off them..besides maybe one exception.

not even a moment later, the exception in question turns to you, expectant ruby eyes staring down at you before swaying his gaze down to the snow-covered railing, smiling. "want me to draw you?" the turned-up collar of his stuffed leather jacket rises and falls along his neck as he exhales.

you follow his gaze and scoff. "sylus, what are you up to," you mutter under your breath. he doesn't respond, instead his gloved hand meets the metal railing before slowly tracing circles in the snow, and soon after you're able to recognize what he drew — a cat.

“seriously? a cat? i thought i’d at least be something more intimidating like a tiger,” you complain in faux offense. sylus only hums “do you know what you look like right now?” he doesn’t wait for you to respond before tracing lines onto the cat’s forehead.

"like a tiger that meows when it opens its mouth," he says, voice laced with sarcasm. upon seeing it, you can't help but crack a smile. "you're so stupid," you express with a shake of your head. "says the stubborn one who refused to dress warmly," he huffs before turning away from you again.

those ruby eyes full of danger and a lust for adventure soften upon seeing the shower of fireworks being cast in the sky. a mixture of bright red and blue colors paints the sky and casts a light shadow over sylus’ figure. 

you playfully roll your eyes at him, grinning as you scoop some of the snow off the railing. “sylus, you still have snow in your hair, want me to get it out for you?” you offer, a sweet smile gracing your lips. “what, you want to deepen our relationship? but if you insist,” he smirks before lowering his head.

you reach forward and unlike sylus’ expectation your hand lands on his cheek, making his eyes widen in surprise while you bite your bottom lip, suppressing the giggle you’ve been meaning to let out ever since you got the idea. sylus shoots you a boyish smile before flicking his fingers against your forehead which catches you off guard. “unprompted benevolence wasn't out of the kindness of your heart,”

before you’re able to process what’s happening, sylus pulls you into a tight embrace, strong arms snaking around your waist and holding you closely to his chest. "sylus let me go, i can't see the fireworks" you muffle into his jacket. "mhm, but weren't you the one who was complaining about the cold just now?” he says absentmindedly and you gaze up at him as he turns his head to the fireworks. 

his eyes find yours again, ruby eyes locking with yours as he gives you a mirthful smile. i'd rather not let you be exposed to the cold again" you glare at him which seems to amuse him even more because his next move is to pull you closer than before. (which you didn’t even know was possible from how close the two of you were already.)

luckily he lets you go soon after and you breathe in relief and observe him curiously as he pulls something out of the pocket of his jacket — a scarf. you gasp in surprise. “you had a scarf with you all along?” you ask him dumbfoundedly, not sure whether to be grateful for having something to warm your neck which isn’t sylus’ biceps, or if you should feel betrayed that he hid it from you.

“i’ve had a hunch that you’d forget yours in the rush, always so forgetful.” he smiles softly before wrapping the scarf around your neck, twice around your neck, and once around your.. eyes? “sylus, i swear to god.” even with your eyes covered beneath the wool scarf you can practically see sylus smirking to himself. “fine, fine,” he mutters, smiling before removing the scarf from your eyes.

the scarf sits nicely around your neck and not to mention it’s very comfortable and keeps you warm. you exchange glances with sylus before turning your attention to the fireworks again. 

from beneath you, on the riverbank, a bunch of people are lighting up their fireworks before watching after them as they fly into the distance. your eyes follow the fireworks as they light up the night sky and their reflections shimmer on the surface of the river. “the fireworks are so pretty, aren’t they?” you turn to sylus, expecting him to watch the fireworks too, instead you find his ruby eyes fixated on yours. 

“yeah, they really are.”

TAGS: @azullumi we're just gonna ignore the fact that this is dedicated to you and your birthday you oldie gramps of a geezer which was one week ago.....but anyway although i don't want to repeat what i said in my birthday letter (which you haven't read yet LOL) i want to tell you that in such a short period of time you've grown to a person I've learned to love so easily as if it were naturally - which it is. you're so loveable that it makes me wonder how anyone could ever hold a grudge towards you? you're the sweetest soul on earth and i wish i would've been there for your birthday to congratulate you in person but well beggars can't be choosers. azul, you're my soulmate and i appreciate everything about you and everything that you've done for me. i love how clear and easy our communication is, i love our little playful banters that other people find questionable and i love that people associate the two of us together, even when it means mistaking us for one another, which just proves how close we even appear to other people. you're the embodiment of lovely and loveable to me. i love you to death azul and once again happy birthday! <3

© FELIBRARY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt behind the cut for Derpsheep; obligatory sugar baby Kon. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Kon laughs sheepishly, shakes his head, and then leans down and presses a kiss against the corner of his mouth. Tim boils alive. Like. Just a little. Then Kon straightens back up and gives him another grin before looking back down to the bag and digging into it. He comes up with the chocolates first, since they’re what Tim put on top, and grins wider again at the sight of them. 

“Dude, how much are you paying in shipping?” he asks with a laugh, shaking his head again. 

“Not that much,” Tim lies. It wouldn’t have been that bad if he hadn’t sprung for expedited, so he figures that counts as true. Like, arguably. From a certain point of view or whatever. 

Look, he’s spent more on less important things. 

Kon laughs again, then puts the chocolates in his coat pocket and pulls out the jewelry box, inspecting it curiously before flipping it open. 

“Oh, sick,” he says, looking delighted, which makes Tim feel as good as nailing a landing on the edge of a skyscraper, and then frowns again. “But how much was–” 

“You can’t tell me not to buy you things anymore,” Tim interrupts him as politely as he can. Kon pauses, then flushes again and ducks his head a little, smiling helplessly. 

“Okay,” he says, then bites his lip and stares down at the bag. “Um . . .” 

“Yes?” Tim asks. 

“I can kinda, uh . . .” Kon trails off, then looks embarrassed. “I mean, it feels like . . .” 

Right, Tim thinks. TTK probably does take away some of the element of surprise from unwrapping presents. 

“It’s fine if you don’t like it,” he says. “I just found, well . . . an option that wouldn’t wilt over dinner.” 

Kon looks very embarrassed. 

“You really didn’t have to,” he says, a little stilted. “I mean–you already . . .” 

Tim tilts his head. Patiently puts on what he’s decided to make his “you can’t tell me not to buy you things anymore” face. 

Kon turns red again, then pockets the jewelry box with the chocolates before pulling out the last gift to look at too. He opens the box gingerly, and stares into it for a long moment before taking the actual gift out. 

Tim really hopes he likes it. 

“You really didn’t have to,” Kon repeats as he turns it by the stem, his face still all flushed and his eyes and voice both just barely soft. 

It’s a slender little branch of blue orchids, all shiny and pretty. The company that makes them lacquers real flowers and then accents them in gold. So it’s still obviously an actual flower with the petals all visible under the lacquer, but the stems are gold-plated and the petals are edged in more gold, and the flowers themselves are preserved by the lacquer, so . . . yeah. 

He could’ve waited for the cul-de-sac and just started giving Kon fresh flowers like he’d originally planned, Tim guesses, but he’d stumbled across the site while looking for gift ideas and kinda just . . . gone from there, pretty much. He’d actually seen roses first, but the orchids had felt a little more . . . creative, maybe? And likelier to be to Kon’s tastes, given how obviously fondly he remembers Hawaii–and misses it, maybe, though that might be assuming a little much on Tim’s part. 

Even if it, unfortunately, doesn't miss him. 

It’s just . . . a hypothesis, really, that Kon misses Hawaii. Just going by certain things Kon’s been willing to say and show in front of Tim Drake, and hasn’t been willing to say or show in front of Robin or the team. 

So when Tim had seen the orchids, well . . . 

Blue orchids are a rarer color, apparently, and he’d just thought–well, Kon’s eyes are blue, and so is a significant percentage of his suit. And so is, obviously, the sky he flies in, and the water he might miss. And blue orchids are supposed to be symbols of rarity and uniqueness, so, uh–maybe it’s a bit much, but he’d just thought . . . 

Kon clearly wants to be seen as someone unique and individual, and clearly deserves to be, so . . . yeah. Well. 

It’d just fit, he’d thought. 

They’re supposed to represent sincerity, too, but that’s a whole other thing.

[aliensubstance-011]

Fiddlestan AU!!

AU where Ford gets into West Coast Tech, but Stan manages to (somehow) get into Backupsmore and gets roomed with Fiddleford! 

Stan was kicked out after Ford left (because if his brother was ready to leave home, so was Stan). Stan lived in his car & the public libraries he found (all his fake IDs are just fake Library Cards lmao. nerd). Stan also discovered he was queer (did drag for the prize money, then went OH. All these queens are treating me like this because I'm a baby queer. That makes sense. Guess I’m doing guys now.).

I like to think that Stan spent a year or two studying up after Ford left so when he gets in Fiddleford is in his second or third year! This does result in a “I'm your new roommate. You first year?” and Fiddleford going “What in tarnation... I'm THIRD year? How did we end up in the same dorm????”

At first they HATE each other- Fiddleford thinks Stan is reckless, and doesn’t know what he’s doing there, and that he’s kind of stupid, while Stan thinks Fiddleford is some stuck-up hippie who formed an opinion on Stan too quickly (he did). Once they do start talking they have a very quick ‘oh you’re actually not that bad’ moment. Fiddleford leaves before Stan, obviously, but they keep in close contact even after Fiddleford moves in with Emma-Mae. 

Stan and Ford have a huge argument about Ford not needing Stan anymore. Cue: “Of course I need you, you're my brother” “WELL YOU DON'T ACT LIKE IT”, which is another reason that Stan and Fiddleford leave together. Not long after this, around Stan’s graduation,  Fiddleford has a 'I'm gay and don't love my wife' moment, and Stan casually suggests running away, just driving (maybe something a little nostalgic in it, maybe when Stan looks back at his car he feels like he can hear a distant New Jersey shore). The next day Fiddleford shows up with a duffle bag of things, and Stan realises Fiddleford took him seriously. That he’s willing to run away with him, even if it’s not on a boat, that Fiddleford wants to. Stan gets very, very close to realising he’s in love that day. 

They run away after Stan’s graduation and just drive until they get to Gravity Falls! They set up shop there, with Fiddleford doing auto repairs (and making inventions on the side). Fiddleford confesses to Stan when they’re staying in a motel- he thinks Stan is asleep, so he just says that he thinks he’s in love with him, while Stan is laying wide awake in the bed next to him. Stan spends the next few days Freaking The Fuck Out while Fiddleford doesn’t acknowledge what he said. Stan thinks Fiddleford knew he was awake, so when he confesses back he says something along the lines of “I think I’m in love with you, too” and Fiddleford bluescreens.

Just General HCs:

Stan falls first, but doesn't realise until Fiddleford confesses.

Ford is still self centred but doesn't hate Stan. Stan resents Ford for not doing anything when he was kicked out, and a little bit for leaving him. He understands, though, why stay with your good for nothing brother when you have dreams across the country to fulfil? 

Fiddleford is Repressed Gay until he confesses his Awful Secret to Stan who's just like....”okay?”. He does get to the point of marrying Emma-mae, before he confesses to Stan. 

I don't quite know what Stan will be doing, both in Backupsmore and once they move to Gravity Falls. I like a little bit about him either doing Art or Law, but I feel as though he’s not willing nor smart enough (respectively) for either one.

Stan IS smart, don’t get me wrong, he just needs it to be something ‘physical’ that he can interact with. Fiddleford helps a lot with this (having gotten a lot of hands-on work while he was on the farm). 

I think eventually Ford does end up in Gravity Falls too, but by this point he’s distanced himself from everyone not because of Bill, but because of his own hubris. 

Because of Stan and Fiddleford being queer, I don’t think Dipper and Mabel would be allowed to visit them until their parents have no other choice- though they do hear a lot about their Grunkles and see them from time to time. 

If I did include a Bill/main timeline ish plot it’d be Fiddleford who gets tricked- maybe after Ford gets to Gravity Falls, and Bill offers a way to keep Stan happy/repair his relationship with Ford (maybe Fiddleford thinks Stan is going to run away- just without him this time. He knows Stan would never, but he could.) 

I’d probably include a B-plot where Stan thinks Fiddleford will cheat on him with Ford- they click immediately and so much better, Ford is so much smarter, he’s the better twin, because insecure Stan is my favourite thing ever. Just a small detail, but I think that Fiddleford is a lot more confident and stable with Stan, mainly because Stan has encouraged him to step out of his comfort zone so often, and has proved time and time again that all Fiddleford has to do is ask and Stan is right there to catch him.

I'm still not sure what Stan should do, so if anyone has any suggestions, let me know! That and drawing requests god let me draw them PLEASE.

[jay-joy113]

Imagine being in an dnd universe and meeting Jason.

You were walking with no real place to go when you headbutt a 6'7 brick wall of muscle who may or may not be an knight.

Now, ussualy he doesn't do charity, but seeing you so weak and alone makes gim go soft and bring you back to his humble abode (a whole ass castle).

His home is filled with weapons of many kinds but manly swords. The soft red carpet being spotless tells you hes either an clean freak or he doesn't stay inside much. The small Garden of roses is on the brink of decay because of over watering. Your room, the guest room, is a bit dusty but overall confy. Your blue sheets are made of an fine silk, theres even cute patterns on it.

Jason tells you that you can stay while you look for a place to stay, that you can even eat from his food. Honestly i would cry of sheer happines . Anyway, and thats how your slice of life adventures beggin. Wheater you prefer cleanning, cooking or gardening you end up doing something. And Jason is a bit emotional about those little acts of service, if you pick cleaning he will tell you how he never bothered because he rarely goes back to his castle (workaholic bitch) and say the smell is wonderfull. If you pick cooking he might actually cry, the last time he ate a home cooked meal was when he was a kid, he does cook for himself but that hits different. If you go care for those poor angiosperms he will look at you as if you did wichtcraft, what do you mean you fuking fixed those?? He couldn’t really care for them so he just... let em be yknow?

Afther a few more days and a more yapping, congrats, you endered him. He never had só much noyse in his castle, its not as umpleasent as he tought. That might be selfish but.. He doesn't want you to leave.

You been a great company, a great friend, a great crush- NO. He must not. You are an vunerable woman/ man/ person Who has no place to go, he shouldnt have these sinful toughts... so why when you smile he wants to kiss you? Why when he sees you helping in the castle those stone walls look more like a home? Why does he itch to hug you and never ever let go?

Afther some nights he cant take it anymore and touches himself. The warm feel of his big hands on his fat cock trying to mimic how you would feel around it. What sounds would you make? Would them be as pretty as you? With your name on his lips and face on his mind. Just as he is about to come you enter his room, whatever the fuck you had to say it scapes your head the second you see sweaty buff Jason calling out your name as he pants his abdomen white. His veiny dick doesn't go down, no, in fact it seems to get even harder under your gaze, even if its owner its looking like a fresh tomato. He asks for forgivnes, that he didn’t want you to hate him, he begs and begs...

His begging gets way cuter when you put your mouth on his member. You lick the head then gives it a little kiss, making Jason even more confused. You start to put him in, Jason puts his hand on your head, petting it softly as he lets an string of praises. When he finally cums in your mouth you can taste his salty taste. He tells you to spit, but you cant let such amazing meal go to waste can you?

When he sees you swallowed something snapped in him. He gets on top of you, undressing and carressing your body. Kissing his way down to your pussy/ cock/ hole(?). You are going to orgasm that way at least twice, he looks like an starved man, and he is, starved for love YOUR love.

Once you are both ready to do the did he will ask for consent at least 5 times. He will ask if you are 100% sure. Of course you are, its fuking Jason Todd. As said before he is most defnetly blessed, those 11 inches didn’t joke at all. Hes gentle, hugging you close and giving your face a bunch of little kisses as he says he loves you. If you ask him to go rougher he might not be able to, his life is a battle field, everything in him is rough, but for you he wants to be gentle, in these four walls he wants to be delicate.

Once you are both done he will clean you both up, dont bother doing much he wants to take care of you, just as you cared for him, he loves you a lot, he tells you that as you both cuddle on his bed, he asks if you want to live with him for real, if you want to stay forever.

If you say Yes in some days a cute little ring will be in your hand.

Thanks for reading

[respectthepetty]

Elyes is rich, toxic, and egotistical. He also crosses the line every chance he gets.

He is the title character of Bad Guy My Boss, but he isn't even bad. He just has one brain cell, and it's in the wrong head. *wink* PENDEJO!

He is a Black Brooder who wants his Happy Human secretary.

But he has no idea how to actually get a guy since most men just throw themselves at him, so all he really knows how to do is boss Pat around.

And now he is going into extreme boss mode by demanding the most outrageous stuff (because he is a pendejo!).

But he is failing to realize that his behavior is simply making Pat darker.

Although I fully believe Pat is wearing black here because he does love Elyes, the barrier between them is thick and heavily on Pat's side!

Even when Elyes tries to bring them closer in his little frame,

Pat pushes him away and the barrier comes back up on Pat's side.

Not only is Pat placing boundaries with Elyes, he is also reflecting on his position because even though Pat loves his boss, does he want to be another name on the roster like all these other men he is buying gifts for and scheduling appointments for booty calls with Elyes?

And even more, Elyes is in a relationship with his company, so does Elyes even really care about Pat or does he only care that Pat is good for the company?

Elyes is the bright light of Pat's life.

Pat's entire life revolves around him because Elyes is the center of his universe.

But it doesn't mean he wants to be in that world with him anymore.

So as much I love the shoe shots of Elyes stepping up,

The visuals are making it clear that Elyes is crossing Pat's boundaries in his attempt to get closer.

So even though the episode ended with what looked like Pat and his barrier dissolving under Elyes's kiss,

I don't think he was moving his hand on Elyes's arm because he was falling into the kiss, but so he could get a better grasp to push him away since the barrier quickly reappeared.

Because the director is Term, who also directed Chains of Heart, and that show, if anything, was a visual buffet of barriers, boundaries, and bars, so I feel confident that the barriers are intentional in this show as well.

So I'm here for the visuals.

And people crossing the line.

In more than one way.

[willmiwi]

Thought I'd analyze Eddie's reaction to Buck coming out to him bc i don't think it's given enough credit.

First thing after buck tells him tommy and buck were on a date is Eddie looking confused, I don't even think what Buck said really set at all. He made the connection of the date and the first thing he wondered was "wait. Tommy's gay?".

Then, goes the question "so .... You two were...."

And he looks... Shocked, kind of hesitant too, doesn't even end the sentence, maybe afraid he misunderstood somehow.

Doesn't matter because Buck comes to the rescue to finish it. He smiles fondly at Eddie like his hesitance is endearing and kind of like saying it's "hey it's okay, yes we were on a date, you don't need to hesitate."

Buck is immediately insecure though; it's been a second and Eddie Still looks like someone has dropped a bucket of cold water on him. I think he's more focused on how this new information shocked him than doing what one does after someone comes out to them: reassure them. It's okay though, he's just surprised, nothing weird. And so Buck asks. "Is that weird?"

And he's looking at Eddie with that analysing look, searching for something and Eddie's quick this time. Pulled out of his own head.

"No . Absolutely not." You just took me by surprise there.

Buck's still looking at him like that, like he doesn't really believe it. And so Eddie's quick with a joke too, he looks kind of nervous? From now on? Like we Needs this situation to feel lighter somehow.

It works. Buck finally relaxes and laughs.

Then, this scene:

And Eddie's just trying to reassure him, telling him what every queer person hopes to hear when they come out, "this doesn't change anything, I still love you"

But Buck.... Oh buck, looks like that's somehow Not? What he was hoping to hear? He literally pouts, breaks eyes contact and goes "that's uh. That's good to hear"

Doesn't sound like he means it though.

He goes on:

Eddie proceeds to yap on best friend @ best friend advice: If he doesn't call u back he's an idiot.

But then. THEN!!!!

Eddie's reaction is what gets me the most here so I'm getting a gif that's a bit longer so u can see the reaction he has to that line:

Again. Same reaction. But from Eddie this time. Pouts, rises his eyebrows defeated, and pointedly looks away. All while looking upset and Not all all overjoyed about his best friend is crushing on someone. Hello?

Eddie then gives him some advice about not giving up and Buck gives it right back to him. Eddie takes that opportunity to all but Run off to talk to Marisol:

I think it hits him then that as much as he wants to run, to think about this on his own without prying eyes that want an answer from him right then and there, and just, Sit with it, That this is..kinda Huge, and maybe he should just put his feelings aside for a bit and reassure Buck a bit more. Like he doesn't want there to be any hint of doubt that Eddie's not okay with this.

So he stops by the door, turns around and they hug:

That's it ! I just think this tells us so much about their relationship, especially since after this Eddie doesn't seem to want to hang out with Tommy anymore. And the few times they do he doesn't look like he's having the best time, if u compare it to before (he knew about Buck's crush).

If you got here, thank you for reading!

gif creds: @beets @livelovecaliforniadreams :)

[whereispearlescentmoon]

Adding to my Nosey Neighbor thoughts from earlier:

(@bigb-enthusiast and @mapleejay pspspspspsps)

Imagine it begins to snow on the server. Pearl lets it fall on her, still, watching from atop their tower. She's shivering, but doesn't really notice, hands stiffening slowly on her spyglass as she stares at the Mean Gills chatting. She says nothing, but it hurts. Somehow it feels like a betrayal to see Martyn and Scott getting along so well. She starts to lose circulation. She still does not move.

BigB sits on the opposite side of the tower, though indoors, clutching his own spyglass. He doesn't really need it to look down and see the Clockers. Scar is waving around a sword as he talks for emphasis. Cleo doesn't even flinch. Cleo turns her back to Scar to talk to BDubs. Cleo will never turn her back to BigB again.

(Pearl will. She will turn BigB's sword towards her and look away from him, begging him to kill her so he can live. He won't anyways, even with the extra time. Neither will she. Both of their blood will mingle together on Scott's sword.)

BigB can't watch anymore so he turns back inside. It's only then that he realizes Pearl isn't inside. He climbs up to meet her but she doesn't respond to his greeting. He sits down next to her and pulls her spyglass away.

"A little cold, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. I guess,"

The snow has started sticking in his hair, but it's already piled on her shoulders and hood. He fights the urge to wipe it off. Pearl's reaction to touch is...unpredictable. She forgets shes not alone sometimes, even if you're right next to her. He tries not to think about what it means that she doesn't think the people talking to her are solid enough to touch.

"I'm going to head inside, I think Jimmy's heading over to ask about Judy again,"

The aforementioned man is loitering on the bridge outside their tower, being way too loud if he's trying not to be suspicious. Grian shushes him and BigB is reminded of late night meetups that felt like betraying Ren and freedom in equal measure where both of them spent half the time shushing the other and the other half giggling.

He begins to climbs down and trusts that Pearl will follow him. The inside of the tower is warm and what little snow was clinging to him begins to melt.

Pearl won't come back inside until Jimmy has come and gone. Falling snow doesn't have the same bite as sitting directly in powdered snow, but she is tinted blue all the same. BigB will place a hand on her, fingertips first to warn and then the rest when she has acknowledged that he is real, and guide her towards a furnace. She will hiss in pain as the blood returns to dying nerves and feeling returns to fingers that are scarred from the frostbite of a previous life. They will never talk about it.

(In the next life she will drop dripstone on his head and he will be reminded of his skull splitting open in time with Ren's. And he will feel like he's speaking with Ren's voice as he banishes her from Love Island. They are back in the Box and she is a demoness who has brought death with her. But she will tilt her head and ask "Nosey Neighbors?" and he will sigh and forgive her, remembering how the time he took from her tasted.)

[hanihazeljade]

Tim Drake as a Rogue "Ursula"

Ursula is known as the sea witch who grants wishes to mers who is desperate enough to ask her to grant their wishes. Ursula is often portray as a mean and bitter octopus who hold grudge to her dearest brother.

And who is more fit to become the Ursula of Gotham City than the Mad Bat himself, Tim Drake.

(CW: Cursing, Disney Plot)

Tim doesn't want to come back as a vigilante. He rather be a dropped out high school that found a 9-5 job as he was subbing for Bruce as he recuperate on his travels in time.

He finished his job. He is not Robin anymore and he will never go back at being Robin, so that he could be tossed out once he was no longer needed.

He doesn't even want to be associated with the bats and it's colleagues but he can never ignore the pleads of the people of Gotham. Especially, the one who is "desperates", that people who have nobody that believes in them.

So, therefore, he weave a new persona. The one who everyone avoids until they used up all of their choices. The one that is supposed to be left alone, or else you are risking yourself to the cruel contracts.

He became Ursula of Gotham. With his already pale skin, he can easily stain his skin with a sheen shade of blue and he acquired a white human hair wig that he tied in an elaborate ponytail. And of course, you cannot forgot the blood red lips. And knowing some ancient curses is handy and one of the advantages he had for having archaeologists.

Tim is having fun being Ursula. Seeing the vulnerable souls come to him and he gave them adequate contracts while those who tried to manipulate him, let's just say that they got what is equivalent of turning into a sea foam.

Ursula, the wicked witch— what the others dubbed him, has a permanent residence in the Tricorner Island. Many will tell him that he is being an idiot as it was the island that also residence the Gotham City Police Department, but you know what they said, the most dangerous place is where the safety exactly is .

As months pass by, he was establishing himself as the largest shareholder of Wayne Enterprise and putting the fear of him among the WE board. It was a hard feat as some old fossils tried to question his credibility but he quickly shut those down. He understand them as he was just nothing but a dropout highschool student and was employed through nepotism. But with his knowledge on how to fuck with Lex Luthor payed off as he can very much see the fear on those old cunts every time he bring up their bullshit plans for the Wayne Enterprise.

And also in the works of establishing the wicked witch of Tricorner Island, but even with the GCPD in his tail, he was doing nothing illegal, except for some murders here and there — not like the bats will care, he is a rogue not a vigilante, he was now one of the established not to fucked with together with Black Mask, Maroni and Falcone.

Of course he is not going unnoticed by the big bad bat himself. He was doing his own deals when suddenly his door got blown up by the Batman the Second and Robin with swords. He was in the middle of keeping the poor lady on signing her contract.

"I am sorry, young Aisha. It seems like the big old bat has something to say to me, come back tomorrow." Tim, or rather Ursula, said as his piercing blue eyes gazed to the pair. He can see the Batman shivered a little bit in his glare.

As the young lady, was now out of the premises, he looks at the pair with degrading look like how Ursula looks at everyone else.

"Well, pray tell, big bat and brat, how could this poor thing could help you." he rolled his eyes.

"What is your deal?"

Ursula gasped, "I am just trying to help some poor unfortunate souls. I am doing a great charity, I believe."

"Cut the flowery words, Ursula. We don't believe in every single words you've said."

"Well, have I done anything wrong? I am just helping."

"Helping but most of your clients disappear, like a sea foam."

Ursula chuckled, "Now, you are coining a little bit too much to Disney. I am nothing but a human, not even a meta."

"Then how— Robin!" Batman was supposed to further the interrogation but the Robin beside him suddenly shank Ursula, clearly his patience run out.

Ursula grabbed the nearest thing and coincidentally, it was a broom. But still, a wooden broom has nothing compare to the steel swords of the brat. So Ursula, did as any regular people would do and grabbed the kid's hood and spray him with pepper spray that he grabbed somewhere.

He released the kid after knowing that brat inhale too much as he start to coughed so bad. He sighed heavily, "This is why Gotham has so much desperate souls, the knight that was supposed to be protecting us was accompanied by a violent demon. The previous one was more tolerable than any of you." he said and aimed the pepper spray towards Batman, "Leave."

"We are not done, Ursula." Batman said as he carried the coughing Robin out of his residence.

Ursula smirked, "It seems like Batman doesn't recognise who Ursula is."

[eri-pl]

Silm reread 18: Tears Unnumbered ye shall shed

So, we got here. But first, B&L get an epilogue.

First, a tidbit about reembodiment: B&L take their physical forms again in Doriath. I guess they go from Mandos to there in spirit. (It's all "allegedly", anyway). Everyone is happy and afraid when seing them (very reasonable reaction I think) and Luthien heals Thingol from (depression, more or less).

Melian looks in Luhien's eyes and is sad. She "realized they will be apart till the end of the world and after" (huh?) and again, we have Pengolodh's favorite stylistic tool: "nobody ever suffered more from any loss than Melian suffered then".

Oh, I found the quote in original: “But Melian looked in her eyes and read the doom that was written there, and turned away; for she knew that a parting beyond the end of the world had come between them, and no grief of loss has been heavier than the grief of Melian the Maia in that hour."

B&L go to Ossiriand, it vaguelly feels like they don't neet to eat anymore? But unclear.

Anyway, back to the proper plot Feanorians. Maedhros gained hope, because he saw Morgoth is not untouchable. He starts creating the Union, but the wording about him doing it … even without knowing the story, if I read it carefully, I would probably be worried about how it will go.

And we have a clear reminder of the Oath and all that. Orodreth doesn't trust the Feanorians because C&C (makes sense I guess) (Finrod would probably join the Union but anyway). Gwindor joins Maedhros, going against his king's orders… we know how this will end for Gwindor.

doriath. Mae&co had sent brash letters to thingol along the lines of "you will be our enemy if you don't give the Silmaril back" and Melian advised Thingol to give it to them! But he is angry at their tone and at C&C, and also B&L have suffered so much for this jewel…

Sidenote: If your main claim to a piece of treasure is "but I/someone have sufferred so much", keeping it is probably going to end badly.

Also thingol wants to keep the Silmaril, because it is this jewel's power…. wait what? "And every day that he looked upon the Silmaril the more he desired to keep it for ever; for such was its power." [original] WHAT.

Ok, that is new. So, the Silmaril is canonically addictive? Or is it only because it has been in Morgoth's crown?

So, anyway, Thingol sends Maedhros a dissing answer and Maedhros leaves him be, because the Union is more important. Yay, Maedhros, great job, you are doing well! (For now :((( )

Unfortunately C&C threathen Thingol with genocide, after they win the wart. Which they assume they will. So thingol fortifies and doesn't go to the war. (Mablung and Beleg go, but Thingol allows them reluctantely, so they end up better than Gwindor)

Bór! :) and Ulfang :(

Maedhros plays his hand a bit too early :(

Also, another mention of Morgoth's spies (plural) and traitors. So, I guess the fallen Men, enslaved Elves and shapeshifting wannabe-Saurons sabotage the Union as much as they can.

Battle, Fingon doubtful, problems, suddenly: Turgon! First good surprise of this battle (it will be a whiplash…)

The Noldor want to charge too quickly, but Hurin stops them, because he is wise.

Morgoth wants to kill Fingon especially. Why? Probably to break Maedhros. (Also, revenge for the rescue, maybe.)

Gwindor gets unlucky chance (that's what happens when you go to war against your king's orders, I suppose)

The Noldor get really motivated and almost win. Morgoth is trembling of fear XD as they bang at his door. This is pretty cool of them. But then they all die. :(

Another turn: the Noldor might have won, but Ulfang. :( [Maglor kills him and it's probably the only named character that we are told is killed by Maglor, which is interesting]

Also, Glaurung is there.

Fingon dies. Also, his banner is silver and pale blue, which I did not remember.

Hurin, Turgon, foreshadowing for Earendil. Maeglin hears it all, but does not comment, and he remembers it and I have no idea why the book tells us that, this line feels so odd. "Maeglin, Turgon's sister-son, who stood by, heard these words, and did not forget them; but he said nothing" It's apparently odd to more people because there's a reddit thread about it. huh, ok, makes sense.

So, Hurin is brave and great and I will need to make a post about how the story is an ecosystem and the benefit of one character's heroics sometimes lands to another character's lap and it's painful but also quite real. So. Hurin. But we'll get back to him later.

Morgoth is happy, because divides and betrayal and stuff like that. :/

Also this (Ulfang) is why the Elves don't like Men anymore (except the Edain).

Cirdan is besieged, allo we learn that there are Orcs who can use explosives, and orkish engineers and what not. Interesting. they destroy the ports, Cirdan&co escape to the sea and to Balar.

Turgon again sends ships to Valinor, again it doesn't work (again I suppose he didn't ask Ulmo about his opinion or ignored it), and we are told who kills those sailors: not the Valar. "Only one, Voronwe, was saved by Ulmo from Osse's wrath". So yea, it's the "not rebel, but not not-rebel" sea guy. Don't blame the Valar for this.

Turgon is the rightful king of the Noldor (says the book), Morgoth hates him, because Fingolfin, and because he's a friend of Ulmo, and because Turgon's vibe scares him. We have a wonderful line about how even back in Valinor Morgoth was anxious every time he saw Turgon and tbh this is criminally underexplored in fics (this whole period is) and must have been quite hilarious.

Hurin disses Morgoth, Morgoth curses him and his wife and kids, takes him high up, and curses him again for a good measure.

Results of that: in the next chapter.

[sweetbottletops]

When Agu said one phase was ending and a new one was beginning I didn't realize the next phase would be putting Aya in the Pain Cave.

Ch 102

It looks like Koga is spending at least part of her juice box lunch periods with the cool kids now.

The bully (he hasn't earned a name) still seems to be mentally in that desk-kabedon Koga delivered earlier. I don't think he actually knows much about music, but he is still firmly stuck in her orbit with the other cool kids. She's got that kind of pull.

Meanwhile the subculture kids are in the hallway. It's easy to forget they aren't the cool kids and typically stuck to each other even before Koga. Narita gets to be included because Exhibit A.

It's always awkward when a friend crosses over genres and samples other groups at school. Even so...Aya is a touch too in the dumps for Chizuru to believe this is just related to Koga spending her lunch period with the norms. "Because of that?"

Chizuru is the drunken master of love gurus. Never misses even when she doesn't know where she's aiming.

Aka: Back in simpler times when Koga was having an existential crisis and being needy and Aya could fill her needs. Now Koga appears to be doing just fine in her identity and even found other people to talk to about music.

A twist of the knife. How the turn tables.

On a superficial level it doesn't seem like a big deal, but they are teenagers so everything is a big deal. Add in the fact Aya is closeted and hasn't been able to openly share her real feelings even to her best friend all this time and it's complicated.

She couldn't even do abstract girl talk at the overnight trip because "Onii-san" was right there among the girls. And her earlier gushing with Chizuru always was hidden behind "Onii-san".

Aya can only talk a bit more openly to Narita and Kanna and even then she's relying on them to fill in the blanks to accept why she's at this extreme level of desperate about Koga.

From Chizuru's POV Aya had never been interested in boy talk until "Onii-san" came into the scene, and "he" has drifted in and out of the scene unnamed like a "boyfriend" from Canada.

But she never pushed the issue. It was girl bonding stuff and something Chizuru had with Aya that was theirs if that makes sense. And then when Koga appeared Aya stopped gushing outside of when Chizuru would bring "him" up. Which was sus...

Chizuru is about to be jump scared with the title of this manga.

v v v

Chizuru is firing in every direction now. Her? Him? You?!!

The readers who had to have it spelled out to them vs the readers who knew. It was yuri all along.

She's hugging HERSELF. Help her!

The extra sad thing is going all the way back to the Radiohead performance it was Koga who reset them as friends.

Aya had an odd reaction to that at the time. Her crush wants to be friends. "There's no other option, right?" She didn't retract her crush after the reveal. It was Koga who downgraded them to friends and she went along with it. And it was fine at the time because it was the same Koga, however they were going to call it, and she got to at least be Koga's favorite and only.

Which isn't the healthiest considering how isolated Koga was, but when that's as close as you think you'll get with someone you like it's not so bad. She's stuck being hyper aware of how close she has the right to be and worries she might overstep and make Koga uncomfortable. What she wants is how close Joe and Kanna are. And that’s something she doesn't think she'll get. So there's the conflict.

Now Koga is the one feeling comfortable as herself in public and Aya is the only one left hiding who she is. From her perspective she thinks Koga doesn't know who she really is or how it will go over if she found out.

Team Chizuru + Nartia have a lot of work ahead of them. But now that they know at least Aya is not totally alone with her feelings anymore.

[ghouldtime]

*slides into the DMS*

S O. What does social anxiety for König look like through your fantastic characterization then? 👀

(Love your Alone operator series btw. Got me on the edge of my seat with each chapter!!)

(Thank you!! 💚💚💚 I'm so glad you're enjoying :D you all have been so so sweet with it and Im over the MOON so many people have liked it)

To answer this question I'm going to have to be a biiig yapper and explain why I think of him the way I do

Going to say this to start, but I'm going with the true fact that König is indeed diagnosed with social anxiety - anything else I'm saying is based off of my personal interpretation of how he acts in game as a disclaimer

I'm also going to state that personally, the König I write is in his lower to mid 40's. Sorry not sorry, I don't see him as a young dude. Especially not when it's pretty much agreed upon that he's a colonel. So he's had a SIGNIFICANT amount of life experience, and a significant amount of time to work on himself and have introspection.

To me, it makes the most sense that he was diagnosed with social anxiety earlier on in his childhood since it was significantly more obvious when he was younger. Something that severe wasn't unnoticed by those around him because some of them did care about him. It's also stated he's suffered from severe social anxiety throughout his life so that's how I took it.

I personally go with he grew up in a more rural town in his homeland of Austria, which meant there weren't exactly others around during the first few years. "Go play with the neighbors kids" didn't really work when there weren't neighbors around. It was mainly him and his parents and an occasional relative over.

What could be brushed off as initial shyness clearly couldn't be anymore when he finally was enrolled in school.

Even on the first day when it's "introduce yourself to everyone", he fucked that up so monumentally it'll be engraved forever in his hall of shameful memories that he thinks about late at night. School was an utter nightmare, quite frankly, from moment one. The whole situation was too much, too stressful, and too different from the life he had at home. He flat out refused to get up and present in front of the class and wouldn't talk in group projects just for the fear of embarrassing himself. At that time, he was hitting all the indicators for social anxiety like they're the targets he shoots at today.

He missed out on a lot of interaction with other kids initially because of how awkward he was - and having any form of anxiety never helps in social situations. Talking to others wasn't something that came naturally and his own panic amplified it tenfold. Most times, he'd either pretend he didn't hear them, avoid them, or stray as far to the edge of the group as possible to avoid it. Unfortunately this made him an easy target because kids are RUTHLESS and turned him into even more outcast as well which only worsened it.

School always sucked for him due to that, despite the fact that he was a smart kid. No amount of smarts could save you from social persecution when you had nearly no social skills to boot. [ side note but I'm dying on the hill that he's incredibly intelligent and has a bachelors degree (at the very least)].

His parents kept him in therapy to help him manage because without it, he'd be back at square one refusing to go to school and faking a cold just to get out of it. And of course, therapy is a very important tool when it comes to healing, coping, and managing severe mental disorders. The whole reason why he doesn't show such bad anxiety anymore is because he kept the skills he learned and applies them so much that it becomes his second nature.

He's had at least 35 years of this, he's good enough to mask and to keep up his facade.

Another part of why he doesn't show it nearly as much is because he joined the military and was thrown through the wringer with it. Being bullied for so long was a major motivator for joining in the first place, as he needed something to get away from the peers who tormented him so and he needed a new life where he wasn't known as target #1. But he ALSO wanted to gain actual confidence and more certainty in himself.

Joining the military really means you're not left with such things as many choices when it comes to anxiety in social situations. You're forced into quarters with others, have to work side-by-side, do nearly everything together, so on and so forth. He knew that going in but at that point for him it was like extreme exposure therapy, the last step he needed to really put everything he learned in therapy to work.

That doesn't mean he didn't suffer or loved it. No, it was terrible, intense, and nerve-wracking. But he wouldn't have done it otherwise if he didn't want that. Being in the military didn't give him the leeway to avoid what made him anxious, it taught him to face it head on and fight.

Now that he's up there in age and has considerable more experience (and leeway with having a higher rank), the ways he expresses it [look at me finally answering the question] are more subtle.

On the field, you're likely not going to notice it. Because that's him turning the little auto pilot switch in his mind to on when he has a job. The job is his focus and everything has been so engrained in his mind that it's muscle memory. He's, quite frankly, focused on not dying and getting any job done over himself. The joking you often hear him do and taunting alike is part of how he's expressing the confidence he feels when he's in his element, when he KNOWS what he is doing.

If you look closely or approach him off the field, however, it's another story. He usually tenses or straightens himself out when people approach and will hold that until they leave (unless they're someone who he truly knows). Many assume that's a taught habit of the military, but that's only half-true. He did that before then.

Unlike when he's working, he doesn't have a guide or things he knows he has to do in a specific order to best ensure survival - no matter how much talking to other people feels like the heat of the battle, you can't (legally) solve it with a gun or throw a frag and book it out of there. There's no true guide to social interactions and that stresses him out. There's no manual, no field guide, no ten step card on how to successfully navigate them.

He knows things that are normal to say, he knows sometimes what he should say - it's just a matter of finding the phrasing and how to say them. Yet it seems like whenever someone doesn't follow his pre-programmed line of thought when it comes to their talking, his mind can shut down and go blank as he stares, trying to figure out where to go or what to say (spoiler: it usually doesn't end well).

He's usually awkward to talk to because he's running over everything in his head as he tries to think of what best to say to avoid further interactions or ones that could be more targeting to him. And, as mentioned, he lacks the average set of social skills that plenty learn in childhood because he didn't have that proper socialization. He's also still not the best at talking itself and can be blunt and to-the-point, which also doesn't usually go down well.

Not to mention, he's bad at small talk and has a terrible, sarcastic sense of humor that many can't read and it quickly turns things uncomfortable very fast because everyone takes him seriously. It never helps he usually doesn't explain himself all too well, usually leaving it as is as he secretly wishes he didn't talk at all when mortification sets in. Hurrying away with an excuse of some paperwork or something else to busy himself is his go-to after those.

When possible, he'll avoid small-talk and greatly prefers gestures instead. Someone who can appreciate his greater need for silence and a lack of talking is someone who he will greatly appreciate in turn. He's a firm believer that not all silences are uncomfortable and sometimes, it IS best not to say anything at all.

Due to his childhood too, he's not really fond of being around many people and will do his best to avoid it. Unless he has to grin and bare it, he won't. He finds his mind calmest when he can just be himself without having to worry about saying the right things to appease others or to be friendly. That way he can focus on what he wants, think how he wants, and feels how he wants without second guessing himself or having to worry about existing.

He's going to avoid most public settings when possible. Though he can now suitably manage his anxiety, they're something he passes up on. Grocery store trips are something he does maybe once a week or two, if that - stock piling so he has to go to the store less is his usual strategy. Anything he can do himself, he WILL do himself, if he doesn't have a trusted person who can do it better or can help.

Notably, he also doesn't have many friends. He's like talking to a brick wall and unless you're considerably persistent and understanding of his need for space, you won't get far. A lot of people don't have the time nor patience for it, but if you do get close to him, he does come out of his shell. He appreciates anyone who cares enough to actually get close to him and get to know him despite how awkward he can be, and will be loyal to the end because of that.

Another side effect is that he doesn't sleep well. Between the massive amounts of trauma from his job and the trauma from his childhood, he doesn't sleep well as is. But the social anxiety aspect comes into play because many nights, his mind is rerunning all the interactions he's had as he chronically overthinks them. He always wonders what he could've done, how he could've improved, and what they're thinking of him (even if they're someone he may never run into again). Its very hard for him to shut his mind off and doing such usually requires him drowning everything else and making himself not think about that, or anything, any more.

[Another side note: He's an avid reader. Reading gives him new things to think about and can help put him to sleep, especially before bed. It's a good way for him to stop thinking about whatever was nagging him and shifts his mind into thinking about other things he enjoys instead)

Basically, IN SHORT this isn't my full in-depth detailed characterization of exactly who I think he is - the reason he's not presenting it as an anxious ball of pure energy who is so uwu shy and soft is because he is incredibly well-managed with his severe social anxiety at his age and that's uh, just not him. Social anxiety doesn't mean he's a blubbering mess or will cry at the slightest inconvenience and reducing him to that or treating anyone with social anxiety like they're a child because of it does not help at alllll.

He's had extensive therapy for this, he's got his methods, he can mask very well. He's a WHOLE GROWN MAN who is responsible for not only his actions but how he manages his emotions and he knows it. But if you know him and know what to look for, you'll be able to pick it up.

(Also the sheer amount of scenarios I've seen where people think he just would... cry if you took his mask off??? Him???? HIM???? König, "I can make you talk, where are they?" the skilled PMC operator? That one? That guy? Yeah no, anyone dumb enough to do that better have signed their will prior or hopefully has an intensive love for scrubbing all the floors with a single old toothbrush. He won't tolerate people harassing or hustling him or pressing on his nerves. Sure, it reminds him of his childhood bullies, but quite frankly that behavior as grown adults trying that is RIDICULOUS, it pisses him off and immediately lowers his opinion on them.)

To whoever made it this far, I hope this made sense, I took melatonin before I got the ask so I'm in another realm right now LMAO. König is one of my favorites and was the first character I realllly really loved and I just hate seeing him done so dirty. Especially as someone with severe social anxiety myself, it irritates me when it's portrayed just so... wrong and quite frankly, in a lazy, offensive manner lacking any nuance especially in relation to the character who has it. Like just making him stutter and cry isn't all social anxiety is and there's SO much depth and things to work with despite the... actual substance as far as his bio goes

[head-empty-just-ace]

I've come to yell about Seraphim!Ace more because you've given me the most extreme brain rot (as someone who is so far away from them even being introduced, oops)

I know the Seraphim are younger clones due to technology constraints apparently but what if Seraphim!Ace is the first they managed to clone in his prime age when he died?

And lets say Akainu got so mad when he saw S!Ace malfunction so badly due to the partner he couldn't kill at marineford. So fearing another Rouge/Roger situation Akainu suspects Ace fathered a child with his partner, so he makes it a main directive for S!Ace to hunt his own family down (with back up plans incase S!Ace malfunctions again)

Of Course S!Ace malfunctions again, memories and sensations flood to his mind overriding the mechanical brain, sending error after error message, Hes about to tear himself apart to stop it all when he hears his child cry from their nursery down the hall and suddenly his mind is silent. His heart hammering in his chest and he breaks out into a cold sweat. His child he never got to meet. He may be a cloned-cyborg but he has the Will of D. A soul so fierce can it be stopped? His memories rush, he was terrified of being a father, his own crippling fears and traumas of his childhood suffocated him, the same situation happened, he left his partner and child alone, just like his dad. He is the monster he feared. But he hears it again, the cooing of his baby. His partner is trembling with emotions they can barely process, they take a step toward the sound, hesitantly, he watches them, same panicked expression on his face. They take another, and another. His body moves on its own as he follows. The errors still silent in his mind even if he knows they are there, but a greater force is driving him now.

There in a crib, he sees it. A small bundle with a fiery motif'd blanket. His heart clenches so hard he feels like it will combust, or explode. He freezes, his heart beat is in his ear drums. He can't hear anything anymore. Until his s/o hushes and coos back to their child. S!Ace watches them scoop them up, with such tenderness, that he can't even fathom in his head anymore.

Dirty blonde hair, images of Rouge's wanted poster flash in his mind, a red Hibiscus. He stumbles backward holding his head, he feels like he is going to hyperventilate, as A curly blonde child missing a tooth flashes before his mind too.

He hears a footstep, his head snaps back up to his s/o and the bundle in their arms. The babe's cheeks are dusted in freckles, S!Ace can no longer breathe, he doesn't register that he is shaking, tears pouring from his eyes as he stares bewildered. His mouth is dry. Lips chapped.

Before he knows it his hand betrays him, fingers twitching as he raises his arm slowly, his mind is screaming at him all over again to stop, a million doubts and conflicting thoughts running through it at once.

But his finger brushes the baby's cheek. Its soft. It's the softest thing he's ever felt in his life. His Wings wrap around himself as he breaks down. His S/o wraps their free arm around him and he falls into the embrace like a feather. Terrified of everything he is feeling, he holds them shaking, speechless. But the baby looks up at him his once dark eyes staring back at his golden starbursts. They grab his finger and he bristles. Feathers standing on end gooseflesh erupting all over his body.

His s/o says something impossibly tender to him. And brushes their nose against his cheek. The sensation makes him want to break down all over again. He buries his face in their hair, tears streaming down his grief stricken face. He didn't understand anything anymore. His very DNA and soul fighting the rigid metal and wired parts of him. He wanted to burst into flames but he found he couldn't he felt incased in ice, but also as if he was being swallowed by the sun itself.

He swallows trying to find words. Any words at all. But he can't his throat was too tight. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, clinging to his S/O. Still feeling the tiny firm grasp his child had on his finger.

A new red alert appears in his mind and he tenses up impossibly. The back up plan is approaching. A buster call on this island, he can feel the other units growing closer. A total assault, every living being would be eradicated on this island to ensure the end his s/o and infants lives. To wipe out the cursed bloodline and those sympathetic to it once and for all.

He had a choice to make. He had to act now.

His humanity

Or

His orders

Flesh, blood and soul

Vs

Cold hard steel, calculated code, and genius technology.

What would win in the end?

I'm gonna be honest. This wasn't rlly how I imagined the 2nd part as but this too good to be left to rot in my asks. Soooooo.....

@ofoceansandtombsanew @captainportgasdace @that-student-that-has-homework @lynndt-chocolate @acesdiary

Ya'll HAVE to see this.