#he's just struggles to express it sometimes

[junedenim]

what it takes to say goodnight

just him & his girls

warnings: dad!alex, fluff, smut, piv, fingering, mild breeding kink, & so on...

word count: 4.4k

He nearly trips over the cat when he walks in. He mutters curse words to himself before picking Pepper—the cat—up before it runs out the front door. Pepper has always been a calm kitty and she takes well in Alex's arms, though they are full and he struggles through the door before he can finally put everything, including Pepper, down on the floor. She tangles in his legs before running off back into the house.

Alex closes the front door roughly causing one of the magnets that holds a picture of the girls up to fall on the floor loud enough to alert the other residents of the house that he is home.

"Sounds like someone's home," he hears you announce followed by the sudden noise of pattering feet.

He rounds the corner, greeted by two blurs rushing him like linebackers. As always, Willow is quick to talk her mouth going a mile a minute, shouting, "Come look what I made today! Pick me up, daddy, pick me up! Come on!" He can't even keep track of what she is saying most of the time, her mouth going a mile a minute.

Contrasting her twin sister, Wren, his quiet little girl, tugs on his pant leg to get his attention. They've always been this way, even when you were pregnant with them. Willow would kick away and Wren would suck her thumb. Wren speaks when spoken to, preferring to perform motions to express her opinions. Unless it's vegetables, then she cries and yells, "Yuck!"

To combat both girls' interests, he bends down and picks them both up. They are just on the edge of being too heavy for Alex to pick both up at once. But maybe he'll wait until the next birthday to stop doing this. Wren curls into him while Willow hangs off his neck still yapping, "I want mac & cheese for dinner. Mummy said we can so you have to let us. Wen wants it too. Say it, Wen." Willow has always called Wren "Wen." It's adorable and Alex and you can't bear to ever correct it.

Alex turns to Wren, nudging her with a bounce to show her some attention and get her answer. "I want mac & cheese," she says robotically as if Willow trained her to say it.

"Really?" Alex questions. He looks toward you, sitting on the living room rug and watching this exchange. You share a silent laugh with him. You're calm, and he never understands how you managed to hold that through the whole day with the girls. He loves them like nothing else ever but, man, do they tire him out.

"Swear," Willow answers for Wren. "Mummy also said you'd play dolls with us."

You laugh out loud. "I never said that, Will."

Willow thinks otherwise. "Well, maybe you could anyway."

Alex laughs. "We'll see." He feels a strain in his back and decides it's time to put the girls down. Will goes off running back to her toys but Wren hangs on, unable to let go of the comfort. "C'mon Wren. At least let me take my shoes off."

"But you'll come back?" She's completely wide-eyed and worried. Whenever she's in need of reassurance, Alex fears it's his fault. That he went on tour when they were too young and ever since Alex is certain he has caused them abandonment issues. 

He told you this once, late at night, after Wren had cried for him to not leave her alone in her room. He stayed with her until she fell asleep and would have fallen asleep beside her if you hadn't come to collect him. Under the covers, he told you this fear and regret, at first, you laughed, insisting Wren was just clingy. Alex chose to believe you if only to fall asleep that night.  

Sometime after midnight, Wren came into yours and Alex's bedroom, tugging on Alex's hand making sure that he was still there, still breathing, still real. Her little whimpers woke you up. Alex hugged Wren to his chest and you ran a hand down the sensitive girl's back. She kept saying, "You were gone. You left." You tried your best to minimize Alex's worries but he felt this fear to be true and a hidden part of him thinks you blame him too.

Alex kisses Wren's plump baby cheek, placing her tiny feet on the wooden floor. "Always," he assured her. She toddles cautiously back to the toys to join her sister.

But then there's one more girl he has to take care of. "Are you going to make me mac & cheese?" You ask, approaching him, and slinging your arms around his neck. His hand finds its rightful place on the small of your back, the one where you always feel an ache when his hand isn't there.

He pulls you closer to him, pressing her body up against his, your faces so close, your noses just barely not touching. "I'll make you whatever you want." His lips pucker expectantly, waiting for yours to collide with them.

"Anything?" You raise an eyebrow.

He relaxes his lips and quirks a smile. "Yeah, I can make you the unicorn-shaped mac & cheese."

"Wow," you laugh, "you really are my prince charming."

He puckers his lips again. "Hurry up and kiss me, would you?" You give in because he's so cute talking about mac and cheese and there's a flutter in his eyes that you can tell means he had a long day so you won't put up much of a fight, especially when he kisses you just right.

You pull away and ask, "Long day?"

Alex shrugs. "I'm where I want to be now. How was it here?" He runs his hand up and down your right arm.

You sigh as you begin to feel the weight of the day"Good. No fights. Wren didn't nap."

Alex throws his head back. "Don't tell me that." 

That fear ticks away inside him but you grab his hand and squeeze it. "It's not because of you. It allowed me to have Wren & me time considering she's a daddy's girl and Will's constant desire to be the center of attention, but don't tell her I told you that."

He chuckles. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Now come on with the mac & cheese!"

Later, when he's cooking dinner, Wren clings to his leg. Will is singing loudly in the living room and he can hear you clapping along with her. 

"Mac & cheese?" Wren asks him.

"Almost done," Alex promises, picking her up by the straps of her overalls and depositing her onto the counter. "Would you do today? Did you have fun with mummy and Will?"

Wren simply nods with a smile, which is a good sign, no frowns in sight.

But she tugs away at his heart, making grabby hands for him. She's always been clingy, enjoying the feeling of being held, but he can't help but feel that she's spent the whole day missing him, not able to have any fun. 

"Do you maybe want to come to work with me tomorrow, honey?" He knows he should ask you about this and Willow will have to come along or she'll throw a temper tantrum but sometimes he thinks Wren needs a little extra love. She doesn't shout for attention in the manner Willow does. Sometimes she needs to be noticed and needs to feel special.

Then, Wren starts doing that happy gurgle-laugh thing. She swings her legs, tiny socked feet hitting the utensil drawer. She nods quickly, completely excited. "I'll have to talk with mummy about it but you and me will do something special. That sound nice?"

"Yeah!" She squeals and claps her hands. 

Her excitement rubs off on Alex, giving him something to smile about. He nuzzles his nose with hers. He can't get over how precious she is. "Yeah," he repeats, completely content. In moments like this, he doesn't feel like he's completely failed as a parent.

Willow comes walking in, patting her stomach, asking, "Is the mac & cheese ready? I'm 'ungry."

*

Putting the twins to bed can either be the easiest part of the day or the hardest. Wren nearly passes out in the bathtub, running on limited sleep. Willow refuses to stay in bed. When you leave the room, she pops out of bed and starts playing with her toys in the dark. 

Alex goes in to kiss her goodnight after he lays Wren down and finds her bouncing on her bed. She stalls at the sight of Alex, clear that she has been caught out. "Bedtime, missy," he tells her.

She giggles but plops down on her butt. "I'm not tired," she states like there is simply no argument to be made.

Alex sighs and sits on the edge of her tiny bed. "But I'm tired."

"You can go to bed. That's okay, daddy." She touches his arm like she's reassuring him she'll be fine.

Alex huffs a laugh into his hand. He doesn't want Will to get excited that she's making her dad laugh. "I can't go to bed unless you go to bed. It's the rules."

She closes her eyes and flops down on the bed dramatically, pushing the air loudly out of her pillow. "Fine." She seems like she's making an attempt, but then she opens her eyes wide and demands, "Story first."

He knows you probably read her two stories already and he shouldn't give in but you're in the shower and he'll be waiting all alone in bed for you so why shouldn't he kill some time with one of his girls? "One."

She claps her little kiddie hands. "You can pick," she says like she's doing him a favour.

And she kind of is because if he has to read Goldilocks again, he might lose it. "Rumplestiltskin it is." He's always liked it and he knows Will likes the straw turning into gold part. 

He picks up the book of the collected Brothers Grimm fairy tales. Part of him can never deny reading the girls (including you) a story. You all do the same thing: cuddle up beside him, lay your head on his arm, point at the pictures, and say a comment on every sentence if only to make reading time just a bit longer. Will curls his fingers around his forearm and falls asleep halfway through the story but he finishes it anyway. Partly because he knows if Will is pretending to be asleep and he doesn't finish the whole thing she'll insist he has to read her another one. (The other part because he loves the story).

You've just exited the bathroom with wet hair and a towel wrapped around you when Alex enters your bedroom. "Everyone went to sleep alright?" You're going through the drawers, looking for pajamas.

"Yeah. Will had me read her another story but she conked out quick."

You smirk. "Will had you read another story or you wanted to read another story?"

He rolls his eyes at you mocking him before admitting, "Both."

You laugh at him, your sweet boy. The house can feel overrun with girls sometimes, even the cat is a girl, but Alex never seems to mind. He likes all the girlish things the girls like. Tea parties and dress-up, although, he did get noticeably a little more excited when the girls started kicking around a football. But then Alex just said, "Girls are better at football anyway." 

He's better at tea parties than football anyway. He doesn't even try to pretend to lose to the girls when they play 2 v. 1 with him. They are sneaky and tiny and like Pepper does, they wrap around and slide through his legs to kick into his goal. Meanwhile, he thrives at the tea parties, drinking whatever concoction the girls make, even if it tastes like plastic. You always pretend to sip but Alex is the real deal. Always has been.

"Did you miss me while I was gone?" He asks, leaning against the wall, trying to tempt you.

You smile, dropping the towel, leaving you naked in his view for five seconds before you toss a T-shirt over your head. "No, not really."

The T-shirt is red and he's like a bull as he charges toward you, picks you up, and lands both of you on the bed. You're giggling affectionately into the kiss and it's completely loved-up and lovely and you both love that but Alex and you clearly want more. You push him up, off of your lips. "Shut the door."

Sex with the kids can be challenging. Before you did it every time, every surface you could find. Now, you mostly do it at night, rarely in the morning because the girls are always up early. You can't do it every night. Sometimes you can tell the girls didn't fall asleep or you're tired or Alex passed out while you were in the shower. 

Despite the scheduling-sounding nature of things, sex still seems spontaneous. Like a random gust of wind felt upon the skin. Alex always makes things exciting and after doing it more times than you can count, it never bores. The predictability of it is what makes it so charged, so romantic, so sexual, so loving. You can tell by the thrust of his hips whether he's close or not. He can tell by the furrow of your brow whether he's hitting that spot in you or not. It has always felt right.

He's fast in his steps, locking the door, and pretty much launching himself back onto the bed. He covers you, completely all over you, kissing you, feeling you up. He reaches under your shirt, pushing it up to expose your boobs, but not taking it off. He grabs them, a fistful at first, then just the nipple. He kisses down your neck, over the collection of your shirt's fabric, onto the skin of your boobs, and then the areola, licking over the wrinkles of it before meeting the erected nipple.

There are times when you do devote time to foreplay. Alex loves it. You love it. Both ways. You both have always been reciprocal naturally. You never need to ask the other for more. In fact, more often you ask for less. Like...

"This feels really nice," you tell him, "but I'm tired and I know you're tired so just fuck me, okay?"

"Okay," he agrees, breathing heavily already. He stands to take his clothes off. You don't bother shedding the top. He can fondle your boobs just fine with it still on and it provides an emergency cover if one of the girls walks in.

Alex lays back on you intently, kissing you harshly. You reach down to hold his cock, pumping him a few times before his hand takes over and slides into you. The idea of it is quick but the pace is rocking, not fast, not slow, just right. You furrow your brows and arch up into him. He reaches into the space underneath the arch and holds you, completely skin-to-skin. He lays kisses on your neck in no particular pattern like he isn't even trying to turn you on more, he just wants to do it. 

You grip the back of his head's hair, clumps in your compressed grasp. "More," you urge, needing just a little more to tip over.

His mouth moves next to your ear, whispering, "Want me to fuck another baby into you?"

It makes you snort a laugh right in the middle of sex. You have to physically stop his hips from moving as you collect your breath. "What? Another set of twins?"

"Yeah. With my super sperm." He's jokingly bragged about that with you since you found out you were having twins. You corrected him and said it was your eggs that made the twins since they're fraternal. He said, "No, it was a really good load, I remember." It's always made you laugh.

"Twin boys now?" You ask.

He shrugs. "Or more girls? I don't mind."

Everything about him is calm, but there is sincerity in all of it. "Are we seriously talking about more kids while you're inside me?"

Alex makes small movements inside you. "Yeah, come on." He leans closer and closer to you. "We make cute kids. The girls are older. I know you want it."

You place your hands on his shoulders. "Right now I just want you so can we do that part before the 9-month part?"

He nods. "Cart before the horse."

You laugh and tug him down into your shoulder. You whisper into his ear as his hips begin to move harder and harder, "Fuck a baby into me."

Alex chuckles and kisses your jugular. He quickens, both of you feeling an ache for release conjuring inside you. He moves harder and pulls your hips to him. He's doing all the work, but he doesn't mind, he likes doing this for you, likes being good for you. That's all he wants to do.

"That feel good?" He has asked this almost every time you've had sex like, no matter what, even after doing this for years, he wants to make sure it's as good as the last time.

You hum in the affirmative, feeling too overwhelmed to talk clearly. Your grip around his neck tightens as you drag him closer down to you. He keeps thrusting into you hard, skin hitting skin sounding across the room. 

"So fucking tight," he groans into your ear. 

His pace is quick, erratic, and eager. His breath is heavy and filled with soft grunts. His hands are rough, squeezing on your hips. You know he's holding on for you but you want him to enjoy it too. It doesn't always have to be about you. "Let go," you tell him. 

But he's hot for it, not rejecting your request like you thought he would. "You want it?" He asks.

You nod, fluttering eyes.

"Tell me," he says, pounding deep.

You scrap your nails down his back soothingly. "I want it. Deep in me." He hums, requesting more without saying it. "Fill me up with your cum. Please."

Maybe it's your words, maybe it's how close he was, or maybe it's both, but he cums instantly after, deep inside you, filling you up. He groans and pants into your neck. He rests inside you, holding everything in, while he catches his breath. You comb your fingers through his hair, calming him.

He raises his head so he's looking down on you. "You okay?"

You softly smile, exhaustion hovering over you. "Yeah."

"You don't cum," he comments.

You shrug. "I got what I wanted."

Alex grunts. "God, you're gonna make me cum again."

You push him up, making him hiss at the sensitivity. "Don't," you command.

He pulls out slowly and before you can even say anything, he's got his fingers inside you, keeping all that cum in, making a mess on his finger. It takes you off guard, making you moan instantly. He's quick with everything, knowing you want to go to bed, hoping to release the tension and ease you into relaxation.

His two fingers shove in and out of you rapidly. He curls them just in the right spot, making you moan, "Fuck." His thumb grazes over your clit, just like how he knows to do it. It's messy, the whole thing is a mess, but it feels like the hottest thing ever, and soon your hips are unable to stay still and you're coming.

It's your turn to catch your breath and he's licking your shared cum off his hands. He makes a face. "I don't think I've ever tasted my own cum."

You reach out and grab his hand, taking the still-dirty finger into your mouth, and licking it clean. "You've made me taste both before."

He kisses your lips before getting off the bed to grab tissues. "Don't act like it was against your will. I recall you liking it."

You sigh, sitting up and fixing your shirt. "We're gonna have to change the sheets."

Alex hands you a few tissues and says, "I'll do it. You clean yourself up." You'll always accept him doing all the work.

*

It’s three in the morning when a tiny hand shakes Alex awake, and he opens his eyes to find Wren there holding her stuffed teddy bear against her chest, cheeks wet from crying. “I wet the bed.”

“Oh,” Alex says, while his heart rate settles. He looks around to get his bearings and finds you out of it to his right, curled up on your side. He blinks the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes as Wren sniffles miserably, and he pushes up to wipe her jaw dry. “Hey, it’s okay, baby. It just happens sometimes, alright?”

“But I'm not ‘posed to,” she croaks. “I’m supposed to be a big girl now. I’m sorry.”

“No, hey,” Alex kisses her forehead. “It’ll be fine, come on.”

She holds onto his hand and he leads her into the bathroom, running the water to warm and filling the tub with strawberry-scented bubbles. Once she’s in, he lets her play with her rubber ducks for a while to calm down. She splashes them and chews on their tails and presses their drawn-on smiles to his cheek as a kiss. "Muah," she says, and he loves her so much it hurts.

He runs a hand over her damp hair. “I’m gonna go fix your bed, okay? Just keep playing.”

Wren nods, so he leaves her with the door wide open and the light cascading into the hall. Strips her bed of the old sheets and carries them over to the wash. When he comes back, she’s resting her chin against the edge of the tub, waiting for him.

His head tilts, looking down at her big eyes on her little face. “Hey, Peanut.”

“Hi,” she says, timid. “Do you still love me?”

Alex frowns and sits down in front of her on the cold tile. “Why wouldn’t I still love you?”

“M’no good,” she whispers. “M’not small anymore, and I miss you all the time, and—”

“Alright, hey,” Alex cuts in gently, pushing her hair behind her ears to hold her face, all flushed chubby cheeks. He hates himself. Feels like he has made her feel this way. Made her feel unloved and he'll beat himself up for it every day. Never forgive himself for making her doubt his love. "I know I’ve been gone a lot, and I’m really sorry, but I miss you the whole time I’m away. All I wanna do is be here with you, okay? I promise. I love you,” he says, kissing her freckled nose and watching it crinkle up, “so much. I hope you know that.”

She nods, bites her lower lip, and chews. “You love mummy?”

“Yes,” Alex says. “Tons.”

“Is tons a lot?” She asks, and he notices her eyes flit over his shoulder, which gives him a pretty good idea of why she’s asking.

“It is,” he confirms, glancing behind him and finding you in the doorway, hair thrown up, wearing that ratty old red tee. You grin and lean against the door jamb, eyes soft. “The better question is: does mummy love daddy?”

You laugh. “Tons squared,” she promises. “Come on, it’s bedtime, baby.”

“Can I sleep with you?” Wren asks, anxious.

Alex kisses her cheek. “Of course,” he says and leans around her to pull the drain. You come over to help her dry off and Alex goes to grab her fresh pajamas. You both help her dress because she’s all sleepy from the warmth of the bath, and she’d get lost in her shirt if you weren’t around. Alex picks her up and carries her to their bed, laying her down between them so they can both hold her.

"You okay, honey?" You ask Wren, running your fingers through her hair, calming her like you do for him.

She nods, her eyes slowly closing, sleep taking her away from you.

Alex kisses her cheek lightly, not wanting to disturb her sleep. "Love you."

You repeat his action, kissing her baby skin cheek. "Me too." But she's already fallen asleep, exhausted from her little life.

You look across at Alex, his eyes cautiously looking over Wren. "Hey," you whisper to him to grab his attention. His gaze meets yours, his eyes solemn, but affectionate. "Love you."

He smiles because that's just what he needs. That's all he'll ever need. "Me too."

*

A hand pushes on your back somewhere around 4 in the morning. You turn around at the expected sight: Willow holding her stuffed teddy bear, thumb in her mouth, scared little eyes.

"What's wrong, baby?" You ask her, reaching out and smoothing back her messy hair.

"I had a night'are." Her voice wobbles. Alex and Wren are still sound asleep. You reach down to pick her up, laying her on your chest and hugging her to you, wanting to keep her safe from all the evil things awakening her.

"Everything's okay," you reassure.

"What's wrong?" You turn to see Alex, alert and worried rubbing his eyes.

"Nightmare."

Willow turns her head to look at her dad. "Oh," she says, "there's Wen. I was scared she wasn't where she was."

Alex reaches his arm over a sleeping Wren and rubs Willow's back, hushing her rapid heartbeat. "She's been in here. She got scared too but she's okay. She's sleeping now."

Willow keeps her voice low, understanding to keep quiet. "I went lookin' for her but she wasn't in her room."

"Why did you go to her room, honey? Why didn’t you come in here?" You ask.

"'Cause I always go there when I'm scared. Wen goes 'Everyting's okay' and then I know it will be 'cause she said so." She's so sweet, she hides it sometimes, doesn't like to give it away, she's careful with who she gives it to and you're sure nobody loves someone like Willow and Wren love each other. For that, Alex doesn't have to worry. He knows Willow and Wren will always look out for each other.

You kiss Willow's cheek and slide her carefully next to Wren. The bed is just big enough to fit you all but you have to hold steady to not tip off the bed. The girls are comfortable though and that's all that matters.

"We should sleep in here all the time," Willow says.

You and Alex both laugh quietly at your little girl. "Maybe," Alex says.

"Pep should be here too."

So, Alex goes and gets Pepper.

*

a/n: i hope the names are fine. i just tried to pick two twin-sounding names. whatever that means.

[perfectlysanexd]

I haven't done one of these kind of posts in a while, but the expressions in Rebirth were top notch, and I wanted to talk a bit about and analyze Sephiroth's different smiles, both pre and post Nibelheim.

Nibelheim itself is difficult to gauge, because SOLDIER Cloud is actually Zack, and furthermore, some of it is definitely his own wishful thinking. But one thing you can say for sure, is that they portray that Sephiroth, despite being so emotionally weary, still summons up the energy to smile at his friend.

As soon as he turns away from Zack, his smile falls, and he doesn't give one to the Mayor at all.

However, when he turns back to inform the men that they're free until sundown, he summons up another smile for them. I don't think that he's just attempting to keep their morale up, he genuinely has affection for Zack, and cares for the others. He respects them for their service, putting their lives on the line for what they think is a good cause, and Sephiroth—as we saw in Ever Crisis—learned to be a compassionate person, who cares about the lives of others, even enemies.

Of course, he's deeply distressed during this time, the despair is eating him alive. Even Cloud acknowledges(despite having not known Sephiroth on a personal level) that he just wasn't himself once they arrived. But I'm not going to talk about my theories on all the Jenova stuff right now, that's not the focus here. Even at the window, you can tell he's feeling off, but when he turns to Zack, he attempts to smile again.

Sephiroth has never enjoyed his fame, and as we learned in Ever Crisis, he didn't choose it; Shinra made up bogus achievements and declared him to be a hero before even his first field assignment, as part of their recruitment campaign. Can't argue with results, I guess—it certainly got Cloud to join up out of hero worship, right? In EC, Sephiroth admits that all he ever wanted was to be normal, something that he knows he can never have. How sad...

So when this man wants to take his picture, it's no wonder that he's over it by then, and tells him no. And rather politely, too, all things considered. But even before that, he smiles and tells Zack that as long as he does his job, their young tourguide will be safe.

But as soon as he turns his back and walks away? Yeah, that smile immediately fades.

Which certainly doesn't change when the guy takes his picture. But of course, when Zack asks Sephiroth to pose for one, he just can't say no, even though he's not super happy about it. Anyway, he continues to smile at Zack for the duration of their journey up Mt. Nibel, making an effort to talk and even cracking a couple jokes, just trying to be a good leader and keep them in good spirits.

And of course, there's the very sad bridge part, where you can tell that he's genuinely upset that he failed to save the other infantryman that got washed away. He searches for him, but comes up empty-handed. Still, he smiles for Zack and teases him about a performance assessment, since their morale is quite low now, but they need to keep going.

Honestly, the Nibelheim part of Rebirth really did an excellent job of portraying Sephiroth's inner struggle. For reference, there are only 3 points in Remake, I think, when Sephiroth drops his ever-present, sometimes affectionate(towards Cloud) and often unhinged, smile: First, it's replaced with sheer rage as he kills President Shinra.

Second time, is when Aerith has a Cetra moment and suggests that his entire existence is "wrong".

And the third time is when he holds out his hand to Cloud at the Edge of Creation, and is rejected by him.

Anyway, back to Rebirth. Ignoring the bizarre smiles he showed us as Nibelheim was burning, as if he was in a trance and just not all there(that's a subject for a different chat), post-Nibelheim Sephiroth's smiles are interesting, too, if we consider what kind they are, depending on who he's dealing with.

For people he hates, like Tseng, it's much more unhinged looking, and very cold. You can tell there's a certain measure of satisfaction from shanking him, haha...

For someone like Aerith, who...I wouldn't exactly say that he hates her, but she's definitely in the way. I would almost say that he considers her to be actively preventing Cloud from recovering his true memories, leading him to remain as merely Sephiroth's "puppet", but that's a theory for another day. He looks at her coldly, as well, but it's a bit different. There's a bit more respect there than there was for Tseng.

And then there's Zack. Actual Zack. I feel like, deep down, he still cares about him, and has no intention of killing him. I almost sense a little...regret? Maybe? Hm. It's definitely a bit warmer of a smile. And of course, although he had many opportunities to get rid of Zack, he doesn't. Instead, he sends him off into the space between worlds safely.

And of course, last but certainly not least, is the way he smiles at Cloud. I know, I know. "But Sane, you like sefikura, so you're biased!" Look, I won't deny that. However, when you really look at it and compare his smiles, which is what this is all about, his truest smiles are always saved for Cloud. He has 2 different "flavors": pure affection and cruel affection. (There are also a few pity smiles, I think.) The former is used most of the time, whenever Cloud is in his sight, and the latter is used during moments when he's trying to control/influence him. I would almost say that he's...satisfied, yet regretful at the same time?? Like these:

And now, let's contrast that with his more genuine, affectionate smiles for Cloud... (The first shot here ⬇ can be contrasted with the shot 2 up from the bottom there ⬆, as the one above is when he's calling Cloud his puppet, and the one below is when Cloud goes to attack him and he opens his arms wider for the incoming uh...embrace.)

Remake had many interesting smiles from him, too, but that will have to be a different post, as this already has 30 screenshots. Anywho, you're free to draw your own conclusions, and not everyone reads faces in the same way, so maybe I'm nuts. Who knows? Either way, I hope you enjoyed this random, indulgent, very long post, haha. If you made it to the end, you're awesome. 💕

All screenshots were taken by me on my PS5. I won't ask for credit on them, since literally anyone can take an identical shot if they pause at the right second. (The exception are the 3 Remake shots, which were taken on PC with mods and the freecam. For those, I would appreciate credit if you use them anywhere, since I don't watermark them.)

[inchidentally]

"short and easier to read" babe I am so sorry to you and everyone else for how my insane posts come out - it's why I link to so much stuff bc it is a struggleee for me to not write just run-on sentences ;__; but I do get what you mean and I promise I tried my best - it's def shorter than the og and in smaller bites if that helps ??

(I actually wrote this on someone else's laptop so it's got proper punctuation and capitalization and everything!)

For those who don’t know: Oscar is an acts of service guy Lando is a words of affirmation guy. Let’s remember that someone’s love language is how they choose to express themselves, not what they should demand of others!

Oscar is also very much not a PR guy, for anyone totally oblivious to the obvious (and that all his "greatest hits" in PR were done unintentionally or bc he's awkward or bc his mom is cooler than him). For example, Oscar brings up his girlfriend of 4-5 years a fair amount but it’s almost hilariously not gushy or romantic (having a “cuddle” is as far as it goes lasfgjlsagfl). But he’s said himself that for the most part he’d prefer not to have too much private life available to the public. *His downtime with Lando joins in with all his other social life in being extremely limited to the public. 

The “thanking the sponsors” thing is one of Oscar’s safe, approved speeches he pulled from Andrea so that Oscar doesn’t have to do spontaneous on-camera speaking. Sorry but not all of us are good at it and it’s wayyyy easier to just have some rehearsed pre-approved soundbites. He tends to have a few that he repeats for a while until he updates the list lsafjslafhlafh.

He also very openly struggles to do on-camera speaking and no one knows that better than Lando who’s had to help him a huge amount. 

It does seem to be mostly cameras that make him stressed bc he was fine thanking Lando for his help in Baku at the fan stage in Singapore and overall he can use more of his dry humor when he's speaking to people rather than just to a camera. 

Lando’s recent inclusion of Oscar in his media responses to this degree is a reaction to Hungary and Monza - normally, his post race responses focus on himself and his own performance (which is literally normal and the default for drivers!!). The recent emphasis on teamwork/Oscar is something he feels he needs to do with his own PR work right now. He’s a smart man who’s been doing this a long time, so his reasons are valid no matter what fans think. He’s not sitting there working out or analyzing Oscar’s PR, just his own. 

People are absolutely running away with themselves over Monza and ignoring that apart from that one moment, Oscar is widely popularly seen as the supportive teammate role. To the point where last year and even part of this year, Lando was criticized by a lot of fans for not acknowledging Oscar enough.

Going off of that, let’s show how easy it is to take PR and media to make one of them look bad by turning it around onto Lando (!! this is for an example, I do NOT endorse hating on Lando for any of it !!)

Lando openly disliked being referred to as the “older teammate” and kinda left Oscar to his own devices so much last season that Oscar wouldn’t know where he was going a lot of the time and even semi-joked “my teammate’s abandoned me” (again, reminder this was not a source of drama for anyone but fans). He got called a little duckling a lot bc he’d tail Lando closely so as not to lose him. In fact it started irking some people that Lando would spend so much time with Carlos or Daniel and not getting to know his new teammate and helping him out with his rookie season of F1 the way Carlos did for Lando.

In every team photo where Lando has had a podium and Oscar has had nothing (and sometimes due at least in part to team orders!) which is very often! the comments sections have always had plenty of ‘Oscar is such a great team player, always happy and showing up for Lando no matter what’. So the whole ‘Oscar doesn’t do enough for Lando’ narrative is extremely recent and at odds with the rest of reality.

Please read the very first part of my enormous full post bc Lando didn’t thank Oscar for his Miami win, he praised his driving.

Even though at Silverstone this year Lando got on the podium and Oscar didn’t, Oscar made the fan stage all about bringing Lando out of his disappointment and even said he did the shoey “to make us feel better” and then dedicated the top row of his IG that week to photos and videos of him and Lando. Special note that this is in no way Oscar’s home race and he was solely seeing it as emotional for Lando and McLaren - and he had zero reason to personally be very happy after that weekend.

I’ve seen Melbourne this year get mentioned in the team orders discussions on my fyps, so that’s a handy example in many ways: Despite Melbourne being Oscar’s literal hometown race - and Lando even filming some Quadrant stuff at Oscar’s childhood karting track where a corner is named after him* - this year Lando didn’t acknowledge Oscar really at all over the weekend until someone mentioned him at the end of the podium press conference. Lando acknowledged that Oscar following team orders made his (Lando’s) drive a bit easier in Melbourne this year but said that he was faster than Oscar and deserved third over him anyway. (Good contrast to Hungary and even Carlos stating that something an undercut due to pit strategy shouldn’t erase one teammate being faster/more dominant in a race in order to give the other teammate the win!) He did PR work with pretty much everyone except Oscar actually, even doing promo for his (Lando’s) dad’s electric scooters on the new dotmov acc. Kind of like him being on a similar PR campaign at Singapore this year because of a sneak preview of Quadrant rebranding and announcing the Landostand at Silverstone  - he went for the biggest PR hits and posted Daniel on his jpg account, did a golf day with Carlos and Max F and was more active on socials than he had been for months. All while only having Oscar in one photo out of the whole weekend’s carousel despite the McLaren double podium. You could even read into him cutting Oscar and Oscar’s trophy out of two of the shots if you wanted! (He did include Oscar in the big group photo after the podium celebrations.)

*I saw some ppl say he didn't include Oscar in the Melbourne karting filming bc McLaren doesn't cross over with Quadrant, which isn't true. Zak has shares in Quadrant and Bianca has been included in the Quadrant rebranding launch with Lando's Singapore helmet design.

See how easy that was to flip it around?? If you’re even slightly biased against a driver or never see flaws in another- or are dying for two teammates to hate each other - then confirmation bias will always find plenty of “evidence”! Because the reality is that after the Austin GP, Lando found his “older teammate” mode and began helping Oscar out with his rookie year. In Melbourne, Lando spent his first day filming for his .mov account including the Oscar jersey and merch he came across - and Oscar mentioned how he and Lando talked about Lando filming at his old track. (Again, not PR coordinated or filmed, just mentioned!) And that after the Singapore race this year, they beamed at each other every other second of that night, filmed a deliriously happy post race video and joked in the cool down room - I honestly doubt have even noticed yet what the other has posted to IG salfhsalfafa. All of the negativity fans are coming up with is their own personal spin and does not resemble how Lando and Oscar are behaving to or speaking about each other.

They base their relationship on their conversations and interactions solely away from the public and the cameras and don’t do any inflammatory commentary about each other. They bragged about the door in the team hub that separates their drivers rooms from everyone else and leaves them open only to each other. Their communications only matter to each other when in private.

Segueing on from that: media and social media are literally PR. Lando is extremely skilled at it now and Oscar is not at all naturally skilled and is still learning. Lando is quick to be able to adapt his media responses, Oscar is not and often sounds stilted and uncomfortable. But it still has nothing to do with how they think of each other and talk to each other personally.

And “Landoscar” has never had the typical PR bromance aspect that we all love in other teammates, and it never will. Lando and Oscar mention but don’t broadcast or package their downtime together and they don’t share their private dynamic with fans or the media apart from the glimpses we see in more relaxed content. It’s just their choice! And just like it doesn’t mean Lando and Oscar are less friends because they don’t PR their relationship, it doesn’t mean the friendships who do utilize PR are less friends! 

And tbh that’s a good note to leave on: that seeing two drivers with no PR to gain from openly liking and respecting each other should mean that we as fans place less importance on the PR responses they give to media and put on social media. So many people want them to hate each other (Netflix even begging them outright) and rivalries get far more headlines and fan engagement, that if these two didn’t like each other or even were blah about each other, they wouldn’t waste time trying to fake it (side note ppl actually thought this joke was deadly serious for a short while). F1 isn’t team sports, no one really cares if drivers or teams appear “friendly” unless they’re desperate for money/engagement to keep them afloat (even there, Alpine prove it clearly isn’t a priority to have friendly teammates when you’re lower down the grid!)

There is absolutely nothing to be gained for them in faking the smiles and laughter and twinning. Equally there’s nothing to be gained by us as fans in judging them and their relationship based on their PR responses and PR work. Lando beams and smiles the same at Oscar after all of Oscar’s awkward, stiff debrief speeches and I kind of want one of these crazy stans to say to him that Oscar is a bad team player and doesn’t show Lando enough appreciation just to watch what his adorable face does in response (don’t do that I’m joking).

[ruewrote]

𝑖 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢.

PAIRING: 3A!denkikaminari x gn!reader WARNINGS: sad denki, no use of y/n GENRE: angst to fluff SONG INSPIRATION: there for you by martin garrix & troye sivan WORD COUNT: 1186

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you notice denki has been quieter than usual all day. normally, he'd be the one cracking jokes and keeping the energy up, but today there’s a different air about him. it’s subtle, the way he avoids eye contact, the forced smiles, the way his shoulders seem a little slumped, but it’s slight but it's there. and what bothers you most is that no one else seems to notice. the others laugh and carry on, completely oblivious to the shift in his mood.

he stands up suddenly after a group conversation winds down, muttering something about needing to head back to his dorm. no one questions it, letting him go without a second thought, but you can't shake the feeling that something's wrong. you watch him walk away, disappearing down the hall, and a few moments later, you decide to follow.

after giving him some time alone, you make your way to his room. his door is closed when you arrive, and you hesitate for a second, wondering if he needs more time to himself. but the image of his unusually downcast expression sticks in your mind, and you gently knock on the door before letting yourself in.

denki’s sitting on his bed, staring out the window, lost in thought. his usual electric energy is nowhere to be found. he turns his head when he hears you, surprise flickering across his face.

"hey..." he says quietly, his voice lacking its usual spark. "didn't think anyone was gonna come by."

you give him a small smile, closing the door softly behind you before stepping further into the room. "i noticed you were kind of off today," you say gently, sitting on the edge of his bed, keeping some space between you. "i just wanted to check in. see if you're okay."

for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. his gaze falls back to the floor, and his fingers fidget nervously with a loose thread on his shirt. "i'm fine," he mutters, though the way he says it makes it clear he's not. "it's stupid stuff. i don’t want to bother you with it."

“denki…” you tilt your head, your voice soft but firm. “you can talk to me. you don’t have to pretend like everything’s fine when it’s clearly not.”

he lets out a short, bitter laugh, still avoiding your gaze. "i don’t know. i just feel like... everyone’s moving forward, getting better, and i’m stuck, y’know? i try to keep up, but i’m always messing something up. like today, in training... i fried out again. everyone laughed. and i don’t blame them, i mean, it’s what i do, right? screw up and turn into an idiot." he laughs again, but it’s empty, and his shoulders slump a little more.

your heart aches hearing him talk like this. denki always seems so carefree, so full of confidence, but now, sitting here with him, you can see the cracks in the facade he puts up for everyone.

“denki, you’re not an idiot,” you say, your voice filled with sincerity. “you’re one of the most hardworking people i know. you’re always pushing yourself, always trying to get better. and yeah, sometimes things don’t go the way you want, but that doesn’t mean you’re not improving. you’re not stuck.”

he finally looks at you, his eyes filled with doubt. "it’s just hard sometimes, you know? feeling like i’m always the one who messes up while everyone else is just... better."

you scoot a little closer, your voice gentle as you say, “you’re not alone in feeling like that. we all struggle sometimes, even if it doesn’t always show. but i promise you, no one thinks less of you for having rough days.”

denki takes a deep breath, and some of the tension in his body seems to ease. he leans back against the headboard, his hands resting in his lap. “i just... i guess i didn’t think anyone really noticed. i’m always the ‘happy-go-lucky guy,’ right? i don’t want people to see me like this.”

“i’m so sorry that i didn't realize it sooner,” you say softly, meeting his eyes. “and it’s okay to have off days. it doesn’t make you weak or anything like that. it just makes you human.”

his eyes shining with a mix of emotions, hope, disbelief, something like gratitude. “you really mean that?”

“of course i do,” you said, squeezing his hand gently. denki’s gaze dropped to your intertwined hands, his thumb brushing over yours almost absently. “i just… i don’t wanna be behind, you know? i want to be taken seriously, like everyone else.”

your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice, the raw honesty that he usually kept hidden behind his carefree smile. you shifted closer, wrapping your arms around him in a gentle hug. he stiffened for a moment, then melted against you, his head resting on your shoulder.

“you’re appreciated so much more than you think, denki,” you whispered, your voice fierce with conviction. “you have so much to offer. i’m so proud of you, and i’m so lucky to know you.”

he let out a shuddering breath, his arms tightening around you like he was afraid to let go. “thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “i…i really needed to hear that.”

you held him close, your hand gently stroking his back. “i’ll always be here for you. whenever you need to talk, or just…need someone. i’m here.”

he didn’t say anything, he didn't need to, he just held you tighter, his breath warm against your neck. for a long time, you sat like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the noise of the common room fading away until it was just the two of you, cocooned in a bubble of quiet comfort.

eventually, he pulled back, his eyes red but clearer, the tension in his face eased. “i’m sorry,” he said, his voice still a little shaky. “i didn’t mean to dump all this on you.”

“don’t apologize,” you said firmly. “you’re allowed to feel how you feel, and you’re allowed to talk about it. i’m honestly glad that you did.”

“you’re…you’re really cool, ya know?”

he smiled, a real, genuine smile that made your heart swell with relief. “i’ll try to believe it.”

“that’s all i ask,” you said, squeezing his hand. “just…try to see yourself the way i see you.”

his smile softened, his eyes shining with something warm and tender. “i’ll try,” he said again, his voice quiet but steady. “and…thank you. for being here. for listening. it means a lot.”

“always,” you said, your heart aching with how much you meant it. “i’m always here for you, no matter what.”

he nodded, his gaze lingering on yours for a long, another quiet moment. then he shifted, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, the touch so soft it made your breath catch.

“thank you,” he whispered one last time, his voice filled with all the things he didn’t know how to say.

you knew that, whatever happened, you’d always be there to remind him of just how incredible he truly was.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

© ruewrote 2024.

[diminuel]

Angsty headcanon: even in the AU where they stay together 5ever and raise ASL together, I think prior to Luffy’s birth or very early on (way too young for Luffy to remember) Crocodile and Dragon have a REALLY nasty breakup. They get back together, less than a year apart, Crocodile moves on from it completely. Would tell you (or a therapist forcing it out of him) that the breakup was just the result of flared up and immature emotions — a man too young and immature to handle a benign, routine, conflict as gracefully as he should have. It shouldnt have been a big deal and he’s thankful Dragon was so patient with him about it.

Dragon never quite gets over it, like a bone that doesn’t heal quite right and creaks when it rains. He takes *full* responsibility for the fight. He can’t let go to that core of guilt (he can only build around it, proving to himself and others this fight won’t ever happen again.) because deep down Dragon knows Crocodile was *right* even if he had never meant to hurt his Wani he still *had* he had *failed* them *deeply* and it *haunts* him.

In a terrible, terrible, series of moments of less self awareness and self control and self accountability than Dragon holds himself to now he let his upbringing get the better of him, let himself be *too* comfortable, too prideful in his own masculinity and strength, and thank the *gods* Wani snapped him out of it, rightfully punished him for it in their absence. The love of his life’s manhood just starting to blossom and he had stomped on it again and again out of sheer *instinct*. Wani didn’t have the words for it. Didn’t know where this was coming from, other than it was a sign of gross disrespect. But Dragon knew immediately he was miming the way Garp had *always* treated him and it disgusts and terrifies him.

For the first time in years he is around a man who he knows could not *easily* kill him and his instinct was to assert his own dominance *and he didn’t even notice until it’s gotten so bad Wani is threatening to walk out of his life forever*

When Wani comes back he does take the opportunity to tease Dragon about it a little a la “you better not think im less of a man for birthing *your* child” and it always brings a deeply sincere apologetic side out of Dragon. (Wani missed his big marshmellow boyfriend too of course. The reminder he cares just helps the initial remaining soreness)

Ooooh. Thank you for feeding my need for angst.

I can see that happening. Dragon does have a side to him that is quite harsh, which we see a couple of times when he's interacting with other members of the RA, even Iva and Kuma.

It might just be that he initially struggles with Crocodile figuring out his sense of self and not taking a pretty straightforward path towards being a manly man. (Crocodile maybe wouldn't adopt some of the rather stupid ideas about masculinity that we sometimes see characters exhibit in One Piece.)

Maybe he's thinks he's helping him out by being rough and belittling because that's how he learnt it - with Garp's though love that is never gentle and also in the marines that might not have allowed for self-expression that defied certain expectations of manliness.

Maybe he's reacting to any small challenge to his authority rather negatively even though Crocodile has always been someone who would stick his fingers into the gaps of Dragon's persona and see how much he can push his boundaries. And that was okay before, but now he would just very much like to keep his boundaries intact, thank you. He is barely holding it together anyway!

Because maybe his attitude might also just be a sign of stress because Dragon doesn't quite know how to deal with juggling multiple roles. Especially fatherhood. It's very likely that he never expected that, that he's torn about it and maybe even thinks that they should let Garp handle it. And Crocodile pushes back. Even though they maybe initially agreed that it's the best choice for Crocodile ambitions and for Dragon's goals?

Hm hm hm, much to consider! ♥

But yes, I can totally see Crocodile fully moving on, with maybe some teasing. And Dragon just doesn't get over it properly because he feels so bad about it. ;w;

[eiralunaire]

Damian Wayne x fem!Reader.

Warning: Soft, fluff.

It was one of those rare quiet afternoons at Wayne Manor, the kind of day that Damian didn't quite know how to handle. While he was focused on his training routine, Reader appeared with her typical bright energy, this time with a notebook and pen in her hands. She sat on the couch next to him, crossing her legs with a mischievous smile.

Damian raised an eyebrow at her, wiping the sweat from his forehead after a series of agile movements with his training sword.

“And now what are you planning?” she asked, in a tone that tried to sound indifferent, but clearly denoted curiosity. With Reader, there was always something unpredictable.

“Nothing you have to worry about, my beloved boyfriend,” she replied with a charming smile, as she opened her notebook and began to write something that Damian didn't see.

“Reader,” he said, this time a little more serious, “what are you doing?”

“Oh, just a little survey,” she replied, balancing the pen between her fingers. “I want to know what you think your best quality is. As a boyfriend… and as a person.”

Damian was silent for a moment, clearly taken aback. He was used to dealing with complicated questions and physical challenges, but this… this was something else. Talking about himself in terms of qualities wasn’t something he considered necessary. Much less as a boyfriend.

“That’s… unnecessary,” he muttered, refocusing his gaze on the sword he was carefully placing back on its shelf. But Reader didn’t let him off that easy. She leaned forward, resting her elbow on her knee, notebook open and pen ready to jot down notes.

“Well, Damian. I want to know what you think of yourself,” she said softly, though her insistent tone made it clear: she wasn’t going to let the subject drop.

Damian crossed his arms, watching Reader with a mix of curiosity and resignation. It wasn’t the first time she had challenged him in this way, and deep down, he knew she would end up giving in.

“My best quality?” she repeated, as if trying those words would buy her time. “I guess I’m loyal. I wouldn’t betray someone I consider important.”

Reader smiled, calmly writing in his notebook and marking a check mark next to the word “loyal” that was already written on the page. Damian, oblivious to what was going on in the notebook, continued.

“And I’m… efficient. I always complete what I start.”

She nodded as she made another mark on her list, now next to “disciplined.” Her smile widened even more, but she tried to remain serious so as not to interrupt Damian’s flow of thoughts.

“As a boyfriend,” he continued after a brief pause, clearly struggling a bit with the awkwardness of describing himself, “I guess… I’m protective. I take care of you.”

Reader tried not to laugh, because of course that was on her list too. She ticked off another point with her check mark, making sure Damian didn’t notice her movements too much.

“Protective, loyal, disciplined,” she repeated, nodding as she mentally reviewed her list. He had hit exactly the points she had already noted. But at that moment, she decided to push a little further, to see if he was aware of something deeper.

“And what about… your ability to be vulnerable?” she asked, looking up at him with a more serious expression. Damian frowned, clearly not expecting that direction.

“Vulnerable isn’t exactly a quality I value,” he replied, a slight stiffness in his voice.

“But it is,” Reader insisted softly. “Because with me, you are. Sometimes you don’t notice it, but you are. When you let me see that side of you that others don’t, when you let your guard down. “That’s a beautiful quality, Damian, and not everyone is capable of it.

Damian was silent for a long moment. It wasn’t easy for him to process that idea, let alone admit it. But Reader didn’t expect him to say it out loud. She simply smiled, writing one last mark on her notebook, this time next to “capable of being vulnerable,” a quality she had added even before he mentioned it.

Finally, Damian spoke, though his tone was lower.

“I don’t know if I would call it a quality… but if it is for you, then it’s okay.”

Reader smiled tenderly, closing the notebook and putting the pen aside before standing up. She walked up to him and, without another word, wrapped her arms around his neck in a gentle hug.

“It is, and it is for me,” she murmured, resting her forehead against his. Damian, though he didn't respond immediately, let the moment linger, wrapping his arms around her waist, allowing himself, at least for a moment, to accept what Reader saw in him.

[stephsageek]

New One-shot Alert

My Five X Lila Strip poker one-shot is finally done!

A Preview:

Five expelled his drink, coughing into his fist afterward.

Lila’s eyes widened as she leaned over, patting him on the back a few times as he gasped and sputtered. “I-I’m sorry—” he wheezed. “I-I thought you said ‘strip’—”

“Oh, no. You heard right,” she reassured calmly.

“What the fu-How can-Are you—?!” Five rapidly protested, suddenly squeezing his eyes shut, his expression annoyed and aggrieved in equal turns. “What am I saying? Of course, you’re insane—”

“Oi! You said I get to pick—!”

“Yes, Lila. I did,” Five admitted, his voice strained as he tried to be patient. “But why would you—?!”

“What? Afraid of losing your precious Puritanical sense of propriety because you’re shite at cards—”

“Two things, senior psychopath. One, I am most certainly not ‘shite’ at cards. You must not have read my file too closely while you were at the Commission, because if you had you would know the identity of the only known person to have bested James Hickok in a game of cards—”

“Wild Bill?!” Lila gasped as Five kept talking.

“—Two, you are my brother’s wife—not to mention my best friend!” Five hissed as if worried someone might hear him.

“Aw, old man, I’m touched—!” Lila fawned, only to be cut off.

“Don’t change the subject! Playing strip poker is practically cheating!” he snapped.

Lila rolled her eyes. “Puh-lease! One, there is no way you are telling me you beat Wild Bill and even think for a second, that we’re not going to play! Two, playing strip poker is most certainly not cheating—”

“How the hell do you figure—?!”

“It’s not like we’d even be touching—”

“We’d be naked—!”

“You might be, loser—”

“Regardless of who might be naked in this scenario, Lila, the point still stands that it is obviously —”

“Have you forgotten that you’ve already seen me starkers as it is?” Lila smirked, folding her arms. “Or am I the only one that remembers?”

Lila watched as a vein began to throb at Five’s temple as he gritted out, “You were trying to kill me; forgive me for being a little preoccupied.”

“Not at all! You honestly ought to thank me for even giving you another chance at eyeing the goods!”

Lila watched in amusement as Five gnashed his teeth in frustration, his face growing red. She was unsure if it was from anger or embarrassment.

“We’re both adults, old man; playing a friendly game! Nothing untoward. You Americans are always so touchy about nudity. There are plenty of cultures where family members see each other naked all the time—!”

“Lila, it’s not because we’re—"

“Besides, the human form is natural; not necessarily only sexual,” Lila reasoned, knowing Five well enough to know that an appeal to his sense of logic would be difficult for him to argue against. Although she could think of one other appeal he’d struggle to overcome: an appeal to his sense of pride.

“You’re just afraid I’ll show you up,” Lila grinned.

She liked the way his eyes blazed when he was truly beginning to lose his patience. The way he clenched his jaw, making a muscle jump in his cheek.

“Or worse, that you might like what you see~” Lila whispered, teasing.

Five’s face went scarlet.

Lila felt her heartbeat quicken.

Lila loved ruffling his feathers, flirting and teasing; taunting and baiting; and disturbing his carefully constructed world.

She loved it from the moment they met, and it had only grown over the years.

She remembered when they'd first been enemies, the way his anger and pain had felt like a balm to her soul.

When his bitterness had tasted so very sweet.

Even now, with his brother—her husband—no one else had ever given her this feeling. That spike of adrenaline and dopamine that rushed through her veins like a drug. That thrill that made her heart race.

Her life felt drab, stifling, and joyless sometimes; like she was dragging her feet through a gray, lackluster existence.

And then Five would come along, brightening her life and splashing her universe in technicolor. If she was Dorthy, he was her Oz and she never wanted to go back to Kansas.

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Snow Drop Part. 7

Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader

Description: After Y/N's rejection, Jaecerys fears he has lost his love forever unaware of the true nature of her feelings. Meanwhile Y/N struggles to stay away from The Prince she secretly loves, having faced heartbreak before. Can an overheard conversation get Jace to fight for her love?

Warnings: female reader.

Writer's note: Sorry it's been a while. I had this written ages ago but work and just life in general got in the way of me posting it. Hope you enjoy reading it.

Jacaerys became a ghostly shell of himself in the days that followed his disastrous profession of love to his lady. He rebuked himself for having believed that she could have returned his feelings, having clearly only viewed him as a friend. She was far too beautiful, too sweet, too incomparable. By imposing his affections upon her he had spoiled any chance of remaining in her orbit, even if only in the capacity of a friend. He felt her absence like a cold shard of ice through his heart and sometimes convinced himself that he saw her, as if she were a ghost of a memory dancing in his periphery. Dark circles formed purple bruises under his eyes from lack of sleep and he was unable to lift the feeling of a pressing weight on his heart at all times, as if the wound to it from her rejection was a palpable thing he carried with him always. The pain he felt at the loss of her, both as a friend and as the Princess of his heart would not cause him to intrude upon the distance she had imposed upon him. Nevertheless, he could not resist from leaving snowdrops in books he thought might interest her in the library, leaving them placed on the open pages for her to find. He told himself that such a gesture should not displease her, even if she knew that if was he who left them. She did so love those flowers and he would much rather imagine her delicate fingers brushing the petals of them, than the flowers lying in a forest, unseen by her. He never stayed to see if she would come across his gifts. He had enough strength yet to allow her space away from him, though it pained him to acquiesce to it. The absence of the flower from the page on the morrow was an intimation that she had been there and had cared for his gift, even if she did not care for the sentiments it expressed. Whilst the thought of her touching the flower and being pleased by it gladdened his heart, almost as if she were touching his hand with her own, it also saddened him. His lady disappeared with the morning light just as the flower did; as if she had never existed, except in his mind.

It was with these painful thoughts oppressing him that Jacaerys pressed a kiss to his fingertips and then to the flower he had left open on a book on the history of Targaryen dragons for his lady. The hour was late and he knew he should leave on the chance that she would enter the library and be disturbed at the sight of him, so he turned to leave. He had only begun to walk back to his chambers from the library when, turning the corner, he was met with the at once welcome and alarming sight of his lady. Only too welcome, given how long he had been deprived of the sight of her beauty and sweet presence, but alarming as he noted the tears glistening on her cheeks. Without any forethought, he immediately reached out to her, raising one hand to cup her face, and another to take hold of her elbow, gazing into her eyes with concern.

"My dearest love, what is the cause of your distress? Are you unwell or hurt?"

To his surprise and concern, she only closed her eyes, wincing as if in pain, before attempting to push him away from her. Believing her to be injured, he maintained his hold on her, wrapping an arm around her waist, determined to assess the cause of her pain before he released her.

"I know, I know," he hushed her, "I will release you as soon as you tell me where the pain is. I can only help you if I know what has befallen you."

She pushed his chest halfheartedly with her palms, as if unsure whether she wanted him to release his hold on her or melt into his embrace. Her head fell to rest on his chest, as if in spite of herself, and she mumbled into the velvet fabric of his tunic.

"I hate you for this," tightening her grip on his tunic as she said so, pressing her head more forcefully into his chest.

Jacaerys closed his eyes, wincing himself, as he drew in a sharp breath, her words lancing through him like a knife. It pained him immeasurably to know that she not only did not, and would never, return his love for her, but also that his very presence was so hateful to her. Her tight grip on him, however, convinced him that she still required comfort, so he wrapped her in his arms more securely, rubbing her back up and down tentatively.

He lowered his head to rest upon hers, whispering disconsolately, "I know, I am sorry for it, I will leave you as soon as you are calmer."

To his surprise, she only tightened her grip on him further, crying harder into his chest, so that he began to grow really alarmed. Raising one hand to gently cup her head, he pulled her away from him slightly to look into her eyes.

"Darling, you begin to really alarm me. What can have distressed you so much and how can I remedy it?" he asked frantically. "Has someone harmed you?" he added, his eyes darkening and his voice growing steely as he mentally prepared to dispatch the offender who had upset his Love. When she only shook her head, after returning it to rest against his chest, he tentatively enquired, in a softer voice, conveying his trepidation at her answer, "Is it me that distresses you so, my Love?"

He received his painful confirmation when she released a sob, which caused an acute pain in his chest, believing himself to be the cause, before she forcefully pushed him away from her and ran from him before he could stop her.

Unbeknownst to Jacaerys, his lady was suffering his own absence as acutely as he was hers. Believing that she was doing what was best for them both, she had forced herself to push away the only man she could ever imagine opening her heart to, locking away her own love for him as she did so. Her days had been as equally listless, her nights as sleepless as Jacaerys, overwhelmed by a feeling of loss that his absence filled her with. She was determined, however, to maintain her distance from him, even if the flowers she knew he left for her had her almost breaking her resolve. Each night she would take the flower he had left on the open pages of books he knew would interest her, her heart warming painfully at the thought of his kindness and attentiveness towards her and her interests. She carefully pressed each flower into a book of stories her mother had given her as a child, preserving them as memories of her lost love, telling herself that she could allow herself this one foible. It was the questioning of a maid she had grown friendly with that had caused her to break down into tears. She had good naturedly teased Y/N for her interest in the Price, asking her why she had been avoiding him of late when she had previously seemed so taken with him. Y/N could only take so much of her teasing before her repressed pain brimmed forth in her tears, and she made to seek out the repose of the library, where she could at least feel close to him in remembering the time they had spent together there. She was alarmed to practically run into the arms of the Prince, but found herself unable to release her hold on him as he tried to ascertain the cause for her distress. His tender concern and genuine alarm at her distress only made it that much harder for her to reject his tender touch, as he tried to comfort her, and she found herself unable to release her grip on him. His tentative suggestion that he was the cause of her distress, although not in the way he imagined, and that he should leave her, led her to give into desperate tears, as she held onto him like a lifeline. It was only at his unintentional reminder to herself that it was the impossibility of her being able to return his feelings that led her to push him away from her, though it hurt her to do so. She was pained at the thought that her repeated rejections of his advances caused him discomfort, but she reminded herself that men's love was fleeting and he would recover from them to rule over the Seven Kingdoms, where she could lose all if she gave in.

Several more days had passed, though not without Jacaerys attempting to catch his Love when he passed her down the hallway on his way to the Council room one day. She had quickly sidestepped him when he had attempted to enquire into her wellbeing, and he had forced himself to allow her to walk past him, without any further enquiry on his part. His internal turmoil at the loss of his love and over her own evident distress, which he could not remedy, being the cause of it, continued to manifest itself in outward signs. His mother even began to grow concerned for the state of his health, though he was quick to assure her on the point and to brush away her concern.

Jacaerys now made his way to the library, earlier than he was wont to do, planning on retiring early that evening, if only because the only sight he could now have of his love was in his dreams. He turned behind a book case filled with books on natural history, searching for a book on flowers that his lady had not read, raising his hand to reach for one volume, before the sound of two voices arrested his motion. He stood, frozen in place, as he heard the voice of his Love.

"I won't be long, Margery, I only wanted to find a book I was interested in reading."

A feeling of contentment washed over him at the sound of her voice, although he also knew that the sight of him might startle her from her search, so he resolved to remain where he was until she had collected her book.

"I don't know how you can read so many, it's that Prince of yours whose responsible. You think of nothing else but him."

Jacaerys felt his heart stop at the sound of the maid referring to him as Y/N's Prince. His own heart already belonged to her, but the thought that she might view him as hers had a spark of hope alighting in his heart.

"He is not my Prince, Margery. Don't say such things out loud, someone might hear you and misunderstand. I don't think of him all the time."

He felt the spark of hope diminish as his lady spoke, turning into cinders.

"I'm no fool, Y/N. I've seen the way you both look at each other, like you're the only other person in that one's world. I used to find it difficult to get you to shut up about him and now you won't speak of him at all and avoid him as if you were afraid of him. Did he do something to you?"

"No! He would never harm me, he is a gentleman and a true Prince."

The other maid's words had caused him to grip onto the shelf opposite him in restrained pain. The thought that he would ever harm his love was horrifying to him. However, his lady's impassioned defence of him had his heart soaring. That she should think so well of him still filled him with hope that he could hope to renew his friendship with her if he was careful not to let his true devotion to her run away with him.

"Why do you avoid him so then? You'd think you hated him."

His lady's next words had his heart stopping altogether before it continued to beat urgently, the sound of it resounding in his ears as his breathing quickened and a smile upturned his lips.

"I don't hate him! I love him!"

A moment of silence passed before Margery responded.

"You...love him?"

Y/N responded in so quiet and soft a voice he had to strain to hear her, holding onto her words like a lifeline.

"I do, and it is precisely because I love him that I have to avoid him. He is a Prince of the Realm, the Heir to the Iron Throne, and I am only a lowly servant girl. It could never work. It is for the best that I avoid him."

He closed his eyes tightly shut, rebuking himself for not realising that his lady did return his feelings and that it was really only her fears regarding his intentions that were preventing her from telling him so. He should have been more assiduous in urging the seriousness of them.

"Has he made any improper advances towards you, Y/N?"

"He would never do such a thing, I do not wish for you to view him so harshly. He told me he loved me and that he wanted me to marry me."

"What?! And you said no to a Prince's proposal!? Are you mad?"

"Don't goad me, Margery. Yes, he did everything properly, but he is still a man and a Prince no-less. It would not be the first time a man has professed his love for me, only to retract it later. I have already told you of this. I thought Christopher loved me, that he would marry me, but he only wanted one thing and when I would not give it to him he proved just how foolish I was to trust in the word of a man."

Hearing his Love speak of her fears and her experience of her love being misplaced in that bastard, he wished that he could hold her to him and reassure her that he would never be so careless with her heart. His promise of love to her was solemn and unbreakable, he would never love another. He struggled to repress his anger with the man she spoke of for breaking her heart and making such demands of her. He resolved that he would kill him if he ever encountered him, his hand clenching around the book shelf he had been holding.

"I know, Y/N, but not all men are like that braggart. You have spoken to me often enough of how honourable and gallant the Prince is. Have I not sworn that if I hear 'Prince Jacaerys is a true prince in every manner of the word' one more time I will have to have an intervention with you?"

Jacaerys found himself smiling again at this, delighting that his lady should think so highly of him. He only hoped that she would see him as her Prince too, not just a stately figure she admired from a distance. He would close that distance entirely if he could.

"Yes, yes, I know it and I will not deny that the Prince could not be further from Christopher. I do believe he is in earnest about his intentions towards me, but I cannot trust that he will remain earnest. More than that, how could I claim to love him if I would willingly jeopardize his claim to the Iron Throne by tying him to a lowly servant girl? I love him far too much to do that, even if it pains me to reject his love. Do you not think it hurts me to avoid him, when I would much rather be with him always?"

He felt the wind taken out of his lungs from her declaration. His heart swelled with even more love than he felt possible for a human being to contain within themselves at her selfless concealment of her love for him, in her desire not to hinder his passage to the throne. She could not know that he could only imagine ruling with her at his side. It pained him to know that she thought so lowly of herself, when he thought she was the epitome of perfection, the most beautiful girl in the world, the Princess of his heart. At the same, he was filled with new found determination to convince her that he would never waver from his love for her. He had already resolved to love her forever, if only in silent resignation at her indifference. Now that he knew she felt the same way about him, that she wanted him too, he would not rest until he had succeeded in assuring her that he was hers and hers alone, if she would have him.

"You are more selfless than I would be in the same position, Y/N. I don't envy you. I must ready the Princess Rhaena for bed now, so I will leave you to it. Don't stay up too late, I worry about you. You haven't been sleeping or eating much. If you are to reject the Prince, can you not also neglect your own health."

Margery's words felt like a sharp rebuke to him, as he cursed himself for not having realised the true cause for his lady's distress. His concern for her wellbeing was only surpassed by his determination to ensure that he was never so careless again, not now that he knew she loved him. He would assiduously care for her all the rest of their lives together, if she would permit it. He grew restless for Margery to depart so that he could convince her that such was the case.

"I won't, don't worry. Thank you for worrying about me Margery, you are a good friend."

Jacaerys waited until he heard Margery's retreating footsteps and her close the library door, before he emerged from his hiding place, making enough noise in the hope of not startling his Love too much. She looked up from the book she had opened before her in alarm, as she met his gaze.

"My Prince! How much did you...what did you hear?!"

"Everything, my Love. I am sorry for listening to your conversation but I could not help overhearing."

As he spoke, in a gentle voice, communicating the tenderness he felt for her within it, he took slow, measured steps towards her.

"I am only sorry that it took me overhearing your conversation to understand the reason for your distress. I hope that you will forgive me for my carelessness in not realising before and that you will allow me to renew my proposal of marriage once again. I urgently entreat you to believe that I am most ardent in my love for you and in my hope that you will consent to be my lady wife and my Princess."

He had nearly approached her, reaching out towards her with his arms, as if to embrace her, before she ran from him behind a nearby table. He could not altogether repress a smile at her antics, as she moved to the other side of the table when he moved to walk around it.

"You needn't run from me, my Love." Smirking, he continued in a teasing tone. "Did you not say that you thought me gallant and a Prince in every sense of the word?" He inwardly rejoiced at the blush which arose on her cheeks as her mouth parted in shock at his words, and he took the opportunity of her surprise to move further round the table towards her. Reaching to clasp her hand in his, he added, "I would be your Prince, if you would only have me."

Coming back to her senses, she quickly withdrew her hand and Jacaerys' face fell as she turned and ran from him. He would not stand by, this time, as the only woman he would ever love fled from him again, not when he knew that she loved him too, that she wanted him, if she would only allow herself to put her faith in him. He was determined that if she wanted him, she would have him. With renewed determination, he ran after her, quickly catching up with her. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he turned her towards him. As she raised a palm to push against his chest, he pressed his own hand firmly against her hand, sliding her hand up to rest against the place where his heart beat frantically against his chest.

"Do you not feel how my heart beats for you and only you, my Love. It has only ever been you. My feelings for you are unalterable, as unshakable as the foundations of Dragonstone. I would lay my life down for yours, hold you in my arms when you are happy or sad, care for you when you will not care for yourself, and protect your heart as I would do your person. You are the Princess of my heart and I would have you be the Princess of the Realm too. Please believe me when I say that nothing would bring me greater happiness than for you to accept me as your husband who only wishes to adore you for the rest of our lives." Seeing that she was relaxing in his hold, gazing up at him as he spoke, he continued determinedly, in the hope that she was really beginning to believe in his earnestness.

He spoke even more softly now, as he approached the next sensitive issue he was urgent to address. "I know that that blaggard was unfaithful to you and careless with your heart, when to me it is the most precious thing in the world." He looked into her eyes intently, urging, willing her to believe in him. To put her faith in his love for her. "I vow to protect your heart. It is the only prize I covet. No throne could compare to your love. I believe that I would have found and loved you had we met in any other life. We would always have found each other. I feel as if there were a string tethering your heart to mine. It can never be broken on my end, but I will release you now if you believe that you cannot place your faith in me or my love for you."

He pressed her hand more firmly to his heart as he finished speaking, praying and willing that he had said enough to convince her of his love for her.

He was foolish not to have seen that he would need to convince her that he had always viewed her as an equal. Whilst proud of his noble House and fiercely loyal to it, Jacaerys saw all members of the Queen's household, whether noble or not, as deserving of the respect owing to those loyally serving the true Queen in whatever capacity they could. His own insecurities about the nature of his birth and place within House Targaryen aside, he did not believe that those who were not from noble Houses were therefore inferior. Though unconventional, he did not anticipate any strong objection to his match with Y/N from anyone who mattered to him. It distressed him to think that his lady may have believed his intentions to have been different to those he would have had towards a noble lady, but he was determined to prove to her that this could not be further from the case. She was always a Lady to him, noble or not, and he would find a way to make her believe this.

He watched in anguished anticipation as several emotions flickered across his lady's face, before she looked up to meet his gaze. He momentarily stopped breathing as she slowly raised her other hand to his chest, before sliding both hands from his chest to rest upon his shoulders.

"You earnestly mean to say that you love me and want to marry me? Even though I am no Lady, just a lowly servant girl?"

He placed both hands on either side of head, lowering his forehead to rest against hers.

"You are, and have always been a Lady to me. You have never been lowly, nor do I consider any other soul under this roof to be who serves the true Queen. We each have our role to play in service to the Queen, and you have performed yours admirably. Though, I would have you give up that role for a new one as my Princess, should you assent to it. I earnestly entreat you to believe that I mean what I say when I say that I love you more than words can say and that your assent to my proposal of marriage would make me the happiest man alive."

His eyes were closed, fearing that he had not done enough to convince her, that she would still reject him. He let out a shuddering breath when he heard her next words, music to his ears he had scarcely have imagined hearing.

"I will put my faith in your love and your promise then. You already know that I love you too, and I think too highly of your honour to believe you would not safeguard my heart if you say that you really mean to do so."

He was so elated at her words, so grateful for the trust she had placed in him, when he now knew that she had been wounded in the past by misplacing her trust that he wasted no time in pulling her head and waist towards him. Wrapping his arms around her, he attempted to remove any physical distance between them, to enwrap her in an embrace that would signal to her how carefully he intended to safeguard her person and her heart. Breaking away from her slightly, he bent his face towards hers, placing a gentle kiss on the side of her jaw, watching her reaction carefully to see if his affections should displease her. Watching her eyes close in contentment, as she tilted her jaw towards his lips, he continued to place tender kisses to her jaw, before looking into her eyes for the permission he sought, glancing at her lips. As she wrapped her arms around his neck and lowered her gaze to his lips, he crashed their lips together, pulling her, with one hand on her waist and another cupping her head, towards him. He could hardly contain the joy he felt at being able to finally hold the girl he loved in his arms, to feel her soft lips moulding with his, and her arms around his neck. Breaking the kiss so that she could catch her breath, he placed one more tender kiss to her throat. He panicked, however, when he felt her arms loosen around his neck and her weight sag, wrapping his arms around her back and waist to support her weight against his.

"My darling, are you not feeling well?"

To his relief, she only pressed her head against his chest and mumbled into his tunic.

"I am well. I just felt a little lightheaded, I don't think I was breathing."

Seeing that she was not fainting, and noticing a blush creeping onto her cheeks, as she once again buried her face in his chest, he could not repress a slight smile. He directed his gaze away from her so as not to embarrass her, as he said his next words.

"Do you think you can walk, my Love?"

When she shook her head against his torso, he placed an arm on the small of her back and another underneath her knees as he swept her up in his arms, delighting at the little cry of shock his love emitted at his sudden gesture. She quickly wrapped her arms around his neck, even as she scolded him.

"What are you doing, my Prince?"

Smiling indulgently down at her, he pressed his forehead to hers for a moment before saying in a teasing tone, "your Prince is carrying his Princess, since you have owned that you cannot walk yourself. If I had known that kissing you would have you swooning in my arms I might have attempted it sooner." He laughed in amusement as she covered her hands with her face and pressed it against his shoulder.

"There is no need for embarrassment, my Love. You have the same effect on me." He dropped his teasing tone, investing his words with the tenderness he really felt towards her, as he pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head, and began to walk her back towards the library. Holding his love in his arms, he felt that he could scarcely contain his joy, having never believed it to be a possibility. The Prince and his Princess spent many long hours afterwards, catching up on the time they had spent apart. As they talked and laughed through the evening, Prince Jacaerys did not for a moment let go of his Princess, continuing to hold her against him on his lap. Now that he had won her heart to him, he was reluctant to release her from his embrace, still fearing that this would all prove to be but a dream. Happily, Y/N seemed as reluctant as the Prince to leave his embrace, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, placing her head close to his heart.

[privategurlsblog]

What’s Done is Done - A.T

Not suitable for minors. 18+!!!!

Warnings: PIV, he’s innocent, you’re a minx. pretty standard. cheating.

PLOT: You & Alex get assigned to the same halls in University. They say you shouldn’t shit where you eat, you must not have got the memo.

🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤

You watched out the window with your ice lolly at hand, a curious expression on your face. The boy that had caught your attention had a cigarette in his hand and his lip caught between his teeth. The woman beside him barely resembled him but you could tell merely from her fussing that she was his mother. Their muted conversation intrigued you. While her mouth moved at one hundred miles per hour, his barely moved at all.

His nerves were palpable even through the thick double glazing of the window you were stood at. Made evident mostly by his shifty gaze and the fact that he couldn't keep still, moving from one foot to the other without barely a second passing. Surely his feet couldn't get tired that quickly?

A few bags sat at his feet, not nearly as much as you'd lugged up to the flat yesterday afternoon when you'd arrived. Your eyes scanned over the items that were showing, spotting a guitar case. You nearly rolled your eyes, the thought of hearing the harrowing sound of inexperienced fingers against those strings sent a shiver down your spine. If he ever interrupted your sleep with it, he'd soon learn his year would be full of misery.

Your peering was cut short though when he suddenly glanced up. His eyes were large, nervous and yet somehow still intense. You didn't break your gaze, even as they lingered over you curiously. Instead you lifted your fingers, a smirk growing on your lips as you offered a waggle of your fingers.

He looked awkward, body tensed and a civil smile with his lips pulled inward before he offered one back. So awkward that you had to refrain a laugh.

"Look at this cutie outside," you called over to one of your flat mates, a girl called Lucy you had fast made friends with after a night out drinking.

She practically ran over, intrigued herself as she caught sight of him stood there. He'd be the only boy, there was only four people in this accommodation. The other girl had already stated she had a boyfriend she stayed with most nights. The poor lad has no idea what he's in for.

"Awww," she cooed, waving at him which he returned once again, just as awkwardly, "he looks so nervous bless him."

"I'm sure it'll be hell living with three girls," you rolled your eyes, your sarcasm making Lucy chuckle.

You both moved away from the window and sat at the table, discussing the freshers event that would be on tonight. Before long you heard the sound of the door opening, paired with a soft northern voice that sounded like an old lady, maybe old was harsh, but she didn't sound young.

Followed soon after by a soft spoken, younger sounding tone - also northern. It must be the lad from outside. You and your flat mate widened your eyes at each other, smirks growing on your lips as you rushed to the kitchen door to peer round it, watching him struggle with a large box as he entered into his room behind his mother.

Your eyes travelled the length of his body; short but not too short, lean but not too skinny that he'd snap, nice little perky arse. He definitely needs some tips on fashion though, judging by the ugly loose jeans barely hanging on his hips and the atrocious electric blue Harrington jacket he had on. His shoes looked like they'd been washed in a pile of shit and he walked like he was edging towards horror itself when he entered the room. But cute, a cute face at least.

It was hours until he left his room, his mother had left sometime around noon and the sky had already started darkening before he escaped his solace. You and Lucy sat in the kitchen, playing a game of beer pong in preparation for the night ahead. You were both dolled up to the nines, with green on as you were off to a traffic light party and both hoping to pull.

The boy walked in and stopped short in the doorway when he caught sight of the two of you, his eyes widening to an extent that he looked quite frankly, mad. A beat of silence passed where you all exchanged looks, a giggle bubbling on your lips as tension filled the space, all awkward and uncomfortable.

"Hello," Lucy smiled, her voice gentle as if she was approaching a toddler. He gazed at her in wonder, the shock being replaced with something soft as the tiniest of smiles took place on his lips.

"Hi," he muttered, his voice cracking halfway through the one syllable word. You remained silent, watching the exchange with your chest burning from how much you wanted to laugh. But you weren't that mean.

"I'm Lucy," Lucy shook his hand like it was a formal business meeting.

"Alex," he replied, his voice practically slurred. He appeared to be rather soft spoken, though he straightened his stance trying to feign confidence.

"Nice to meet you Alex, can I call you Al?" Lucy was speaking to him like he was a specimen from out of space and it was making you really struggle to hold in your laughter. A weird sound left your lips which made his eyes quickly avert to you.

"Yeah, um....they call me that, back home anyways," Alex mutters, his eyes flickering between the two of you.

"This is Y/N," Lucy thins her eyes at you, your eyes full of mischief, "she's unserious."

"Welcome to the flat Al," you emphasised his name with a little wink, "how exciting for you being surrounded by girlies."

Alex blushed, it spread across his cheeks and neck within seconds and his eyes grew shifty, darting to the floor rapidly like looking at you might be trouble. Perhaps he's right, you're certainly a riot and he'll soon figure that out. But you'll give him time to make his assumptions first.

Lucy chuckles, "wanna play beer pong? Are you coming to the party tonight?"

Alex shook his head, "um, wanted to settle in first, you know....get things sorted."

"Boring!" you announced, slamming your drink down and he visibly jumped, his heart might as well have been pounding out of the cheap speaker beside you, it was that loud, "join us Al! Please, we could do with a ref. This bellend keeps cheating."

Lucy quickly protests and Alex has no time to as you guys drag him into your game. Suddenly he's got a drink at hand, fruity wine as if he's one of the girls.

Once your heads are clouded enough, the game is forgotten and you all start dancing. Well, all is a little bit of an overstatement, Alex sits on the settee watching on with his back straight like he's sat amongst the queens of England.

But you drag him up, pulling him to his feet as his blush deepens even more, though he's practically been growing red all night. At least he'll fit in with the vibe at the party later.

"Come on Al, why don't you loosen up?" you chuckled as he stood still beside you. Lucy had gone to make you all drinks, chuckling at you as you teased him much like you'd been doing all night long.

"I'm not much of a dancer," he groaned, his hands plastered to his sides as you turned your back, pressing your arse against him as you rolled your body to 'Promiscuous Girl'.

"Then I'll dance, just hold my hips, like this," you grabbed his hands and moved them to your hips. His grip was loose, his fingers trembling. You could feel his heart racing against your back as you pressed harder against him, still dancing to the music.

You found it incredibly endearing how nervous he was, it was practically seeping through your skin, making your own belly flip. He was cute, and yeah a bit good looking but you weren't looking for anything serious. You're not particularly fussed about the rule of not shitting where you eat, as long as you're satisfied at the end of it.

You sung along at the top of your lungs, pressing into him more and more as your hips swayed. Alex was having an incredibly hard time not getting turned on by you, to be fair to him it could've been anyone, but it was you. And you were fit. He'd thought it since he'd seen you at the window with your puffy lips wrapped around a fruit pastel ice lolly, waggling your fingers at him with a glint in your eye he could see even from several feet away.

And now here you were, grinding on him like it was the most casual ordeal ever, holding his hands captive against your side. Though he wasn't exactly trying to pull them away.

"Going for a wee!" Lucy shouts, but neither of you seem to care as Alex's hips start moving against yours, the instinct overtaking his mind. The lust has began seeping into it anyway, clouding his judgement as your hands drop from his, yet his never drop from your hips.

"See, I think you're doing a great job," you say, glancing over your shoulder at him. Your eyes are hazy with amusement, your smirk barely being contained even as you took your lip between your teeth.

Alex suddenly became very aware of how good looking you were, the warmth of your body seeping through his own, opening up a burning fire in the pit of his belly. And with that, came the rise of his cock. He felt it pressing against his jeans, the heat of his arousal overwhelming him enough to quickly pull away from you.

"Sorry....I....my girlfriend wouldn't like it," Alex quickly mumbles out but you hardly seem to care as you twirl around. His hand comes trawling through his hair, feeling the dampness from how much he's been sweating over you.

The sudden reminder of his girlfriend, probably sat in her bedroom crying over him leaving, is like a bucket of ice water being thrown over him. Something tugs at his heart, yearning, guilt, despair....whatever it is, it's not enjoyable and he's desperate to get out of here. Desperate to come back to before he does something stupid, something he'd never usually dream of doing.

"Ooo Alex you better put on some red then before the traffic light party!"

Lucy comes parading back into the room, breaking the lust filled fog that was clouding it prior to her arrival. You're over having the time of your life, barely recognising any tension in light of your excitement.

"I'm not going," he insists, his eyes fixed on you still, your hips specifically in the criminally short skirt you had on that stretched over your pert little arse, "I'm gonna go call her. Have fun though."

"Thanks Al!" you shouted behind you, "have fun tossing yourself off!"

He blushed again, shaking his head as Lucy, already cut, started cackling at your quip. He's never moved so fast in his life leaving that room, trying desperately to get back to the solace of his room where he could regather himself.

It turned out the traffic light party was boring. While Lucy had found her fix straight away, you were looking around with a sour face at your options or lack there of. None of the boys were doing it for you, your haziness was fading alongside your excitement. As Lucy informed you she was going back to her fix's place for a shag, you decided to go home.

The door crashed behind you and shook the entire flat, the sound echoing down the empty corridor where the ugly, piercing blue lights came to life above you. Your eyes flickered to the doors in front of you, grazing over your own, annoyance flickering through you as you realise you'd left the light on.

But then your eyes carry on to the next door, where you see the light spilling out of the gap under Alex's door. Now that you think about it, you already found your fix earlier.

A smirk grows on your lips as you toss your handbag to the side, moving swiftly towards his door where you rap your knuckles on it slowly. You hear some shuffling before it swings open to reveal him, still in the ugly outfit from earlier, with tired eyes and messy hair.

"Just woke up?" you mutter, letting your eyes travel the length of his body. God, he's cute. So shy, so timid. You love yourself a little peach like that.

"No," he swallows as you glance behind him into his room, bare of anything except a photo frame on his desk, not that you can see what the picture contains but judging by his earlier declaration, you have some sort of idea.

"The party was boring, thanks for asking," you swan in like you own the place, walking effortlessly in heels that are tall enough to make Alex wince. He watches you glance around his room, a smile gracing your lips at the plaid bedsheets and the welcome pack his mum clearly made him.

"Wanna hang out?" you turn, facing him, catching him off guard as he shrugs in return, his heart already racing far ahead of his incomprehensible mind, "we're living together, we should get to know each other."

And that you do.

Alex sits on the bed and you perch beside him, fiddling with a teddy bear he's had for years after you'd dutifully teased him for it. You talk all about where you're from, your parents, siblings, your course at uni. You ask him a little bit about himself but he's less willing to give and so you take the lead, feeling the alcohol wear off completely by the time you finish.

Alex sits with his back against the wall, legs stretched out in front of him. He's an attentive listener, an eye contact king which you find a contradiction to how he comes across in his vibe. You decide he's not completely timid, but perhaps just gentle, impassive. You're intrigued, let's just say that.

"You're fit Alex," you said, your face unmoving from its casualness despite saying something that was dripping in confidence. Alex went silent, the air stilling around you both as he gazed at you with wide eyes, trying to conjure up a way to approach this.

You shifted, deciding to bite the bullet. His body is practically screaming for you, the blush and bulge clear indications that he thinks the exact same. You get it, he loves his girlfriend from college. But this is uni. She's in the past, and you're in the next room.

Alex watched you with caution, his hands already gripping the sheets like he was sucking power through his palms to leave, though he didn't move another muscle.

You suddenly moved, shifting your thigh over his. He remained wordless, watching you do it and you smirked as you fell into place in his lap, your crotches aligning as well as your faces.

You could smell the lingering scent of wine off his breath, the cheap cologne coming off his body, a little old smelling since he'd probably put it on this morning. He'd shed that horrific jacket, thank God, and was clad in a T-shirt that fit him snugly, hugging his taut body. You felt jealous of the fabric. You wanted in on a piece of him.

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

Your whisper fell across his face and his eyes fluttered closed. Already, he could feel himself getting hard. All you'd done is sit on his lap, he was yet to say or do anything. You were yet to move in it. And he was already hard? Christ, he's pathetic.

"Al? Do you?"

"Mhm," he mumbled, half arsed, opening his eyes to find you gazing curiously into his, your lips upturning at his compliment.

"Do you wanna fuck me?"

"I have a girlfriend," he defended himself which seemed counterintuitive when you were sat in his lap like this.

Your lips ghosted over his as you leant forward, and what was even better was that you could feel him prodding you. The high flush on his cheekbones and his expanded pupils proved his arousal all the more, and you were amused if anything.

"Where is she then?" you said against his lips, your whisper breathing something sordid into him. His eyes fluttered closed, long eyelashes tickling his cheeks as he attempted to control himself. His fists twined with the sheets beside him, his slumped body felt heavy and uncontrollable.

You shifted the slightest bit with all the intent to tease him, his breath hitched and his eyes shot open as the pleasure from the pressure on his crotch shot through him.

"I-I'm not a cheat," his hands come to rest of your hips and yet don't stop you when you shift again, the touch featherlight, completely unsure. It makes your lips quirk up, a devilish smile on them that doesn't aid his problem.

"You're not doing anything are you?" you shrug, moving your hips again. He mewls this time, head slamming back against the wall with a hard smack, the skin of his neck flushed a deep red as he tries to swallow the lust.

"Y/N...." his voice trails off into a groan when you roll your hips again, harder this time, his zipper digging into your panties and making you moan lightly, "I....fuck....you need to stop."

"You have the power," you whisper, pecking his lips, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and nibbling on the supple flesh. They swell under your own lips, the blood rushing around his body as the words linger in the air, the lies in them hanging over you both.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" you whisper, stroking your tongue across his bottom lip, soothing your own teeth marks indenting his skin.

"Christ....fuck," Alex splutters the words out as you grind harder, pushing your chest flush against his, the feel of your boobs pressing into him making him lose all sense of self for a second as he looks down at your impressive cleavage, eyes widening like a kid in a candy shop.

"No....no, I can't do this," Alex groans, his neck elongating as he presses his head against the wall. You pout, but hear him out, stopping your movements.

"Okay," you shrug, going to move off him. He watches your body move, before he knows it his hand has reached out to touch your thigh. It's not that much indication but you look round nonetheless, catching sight of his desperate gaze. He doesn't want to admit it, but he wants you. And he's begging you to take from him, what he can't offer.

"How about we don't talk?" you resume your movements, watching the relief seep into his gaze as you start rocking against him again.

"Then it's not really happening, is it?"

"Mhm...." Alex agrees through thinned lips, eyes still lingering on your boobs, your nipples hardened through the fabric of your slutty top. He'd love to rip it off but he wouldn't want to break the rules.

You shuffle back so you're sat on his thighs, cupping his bulge under your small palm. He looks well endowed judging by the press of him against his jeans, you're practically salivating as you start to rub your hand up and down the fabric.

"Fuck," he whines, hips shifting upwards, chasing your touch. He flushes red at his own desperation, his own roughness even though he'd tried to say no. It was so obvious he hadn’t meant it.

You fiddle with his zip, eyes fixed on him checking with him if it's okay and he gives the slightest nod - nearly enough for you to miss if you weren't watching him so intently.

He whines again when you undo his button, your fingers rubbing against the damp spot where his cock is pressed to his boxers. Even the slightest friction has him thrashing and you chuckle, pushing his hips down and fixing him with a warning glare, full of teasing.

"Shhhh," you look into his eyes, your movements easy for you despite the fact you're not even looking. He feels the pressure relieve against his cock when you finally undo the zip and button, but still it's pressed against his boxers, straining the fabric.

Alex doesn't stop you. He doesn't want to, if he's honest. He should, he knows he should. But he can't help but indulge in how you're going about this, making him feel helpless, already taking the blame for something he's equally as guilty for.

You pull him out of his boxers in a swift motion, a slight wince forms on his face when he slaps against his belly, the cool air making his red hot skin twitch. Neither of you look towards it, you shift on him, your movements subtle, almost unnoticeable. He can't hear a thing outside of his beating heart, echoing through his ears. He can't feel a thing except your hands aligning him, and then the inevitable feel of your wet heat as you sink down onto him with a slight gasp.

"Fuck."

His mutter was so quiet, you almost didn't catch it. But you certainly caught the way his eyes rolled back, how his grip on the sheets tightened and the sheen of him under the yellow tinted lights.

You started to ride him, your hands taking solace on his shoulders as you bounced curtly on his cock. Alex had a hard time pretending it wasn't happening, his lip caught between his teeth biting down hard enough for blood to escape into his mouth, the metallic taste a mere afterthought.

His eyes followed you, up and down, and back again, watching the way your head fell back and a moan left your lips as you made yourself feel good. His hands stayed at his side; he was unmoving almost like a statue or a toy for you to use. And it was so hot. He felt guilty for even endorsing it but his cock wasn't lying, you were worth standing for. And he'd be your toy any day.

The pleasure wrapped around him like a warm blanket, his skin prickling with it, starting to sweat from trying to hold back. You were moaning like crazy, your nails digging into his shoulders, eyes rolled into the back of your head. Your sounds reverberated through him and increased his pleasure tenfold, the pressure in his lower stomach starting to coil tight despite the fact it had only been minutes since you'd first sunk onto him.

"Boys like you always have big cocks huh?" you drawled, looking down at him with a sultry gaze, your pupils swallowing your irises whole. Your hair hung over your eyes, making you look sinister but in the best way. Momentarily, he held your gaze and pretended this wasn't wrong, a groan bubbling between his lips.

You bounced harder, overwhelming him completely as his eyes rolled back and he struggled to cope. He felt himself pulsing, his belly tightening enough for it to hurt. As you looked down on him, you realised that he wasn't going to last much longer, the twitchiness of his body said it all, his deep heavy breaths a clear indication of how much he was struggling.

"If you carry on," Alex hissed through his teeth, voice ragged with the promise of his release, "I'm gonna cum."

"Shhh, I don't need to know," you whisper, your fingers curving against his face to silence him, "this isn't happening, remember?"

Alex groaned, his head smacking the wall again and his legs twitching. The pleasure was almost too much, the way you've muted the situation somehow amplifying it by a tenfold.

He couldn't hold on any longer. His head rolled back, the pleasure overriding his ability to speak or move as you overwhelmed him with it, speeding up your hips as you felt him twitch. His eyes squeezed shut and his cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red as his cock twitched, his release spurting inside of you.

His groans were cute, echoing through the room so quietly as if they were shy. And perhaps they were just as much as he was, refusing to look at you, his eyes squeezed shut as his hips jolted up again and again.

When you felt his body go slack beneath you, you quickly jumped off him, pulling your panties up before his eyes had even opened. He was like a puddle in the middle of his bed, his eyes drowsy looking, his mouth slack, lips swollen. He looked a sight for sore eyes but now that you were done with him, you were healed.

"What's her name?" you leant against his desk, a little dangerous smirk on your lips.

"Huh?" he sat up a bit, trying to regain his composure. You were acting so casual he nearly rubbed his eyes as if that might bring him back to a reality where you hadn't just rode his cock. Where you weren't stood there with his cum staining your panties.

"Your girlfriend, what's her name?"

"Natasha."

"Hm," you giggled, your hand running over his desk until it led up to the cute framed picture he had of himself and the girl, "cute."

"Look I....that shouldn't have happened," Alex finally regains his ability to speak, his voice timid and yet the alarm in it was prominent. You looked around with a quirked brow, wondering where this insistence was when you were riding him minutes prior.

He stood on shaky legs, tucking himself back into his jeans, the blush growing a deeper shade of red on his cheeks as he zipped himself up. The shame was written all over his face and his poor tensed body looked extremely hard done by. But you didn't care, he could well have stopped you and he didn't.

"It's done now," you shrug, "I'm not telling."

"I think you should go," Alex couldn't stand how casual you were being. His heart was racing beneath his chest and he had to sit on the edge of the bed and hold his head in his hands, his gaze well away from you to try and form a coherent thought.

You weren't really bothered. He was cute but you've had your fix. With a gentle sigh, you turn in your pep and head for his door.

"Bye cutie," you looked round briefly to find him leant on his thighs, head in hands. Oh well, what's done is done.

🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩

A/N: this has been lingering in my drafts for a few days. I promise at some point I’ll write something other than fetus Al LOL (I love him sm). found this so cute 🥲 what’s wrong with me

[cupidspup]

I caved guys-

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Flip! N Headcanons Pt. 1☆

A/N: Okay so for the past two days I’ve been having a very mild brain rot about murder drones (I binged watched it within the span of a day and a half) and I just CANNOT get the idea of a flip N out of my head so that’s what we’re doing today! These are mainly going to be Regressor! N headcanons and then I’ll have CG! N headcanons in another part! (I apologize beforehand for my rambling 💀)

🐶 Okay so first things first, yes I do think N would be a flip and I think he would do an AMAZING job at it! He’s definitely a mix between a puppy pet regressor and a boy regressor

⤷ 💛 I feel like he would regress for a lot of reasons and sometime struggle with why he does it in the first place (being that he’s a robot and doesn’t experience childhood normally) my headcanon is that he found out about regression somehow while learning about humans or during his time with Tessa and it’s just been a private thing ever since! His age range is 0-10 and it varies between days! He’s kinda just all over the place and goes with what he feels!

🐾 N definitely loves to play all the time and will have many amounts of chew toys (could be real ones that he found or just yknow- metal he finds) He has a problem for sure with not chewing too much on his toys either! (Golden retrievers have gentle mouths but this golden puppy doesn’t know his own strength :”])

🐶 He will absolutely MELT for some pets and will always wag his tail when he gets some! (This does result in him getting lightly scolded if he’s not careful with his tail :”]) If he’s particularly pet regressed a little puppy nose will pop up between his eyes too! (Yes he makes perfect puppy noises too teehee)

💛 When he’s regularly regressed he will ALWAYS babble if he’s young enough, he just loves to talk and will always want to engage in some form of talk with you!

⤷🐾 Same goes for when he’s pet regressed he will bark, whine and howl to his hearts content!

🐶 N absolutely LOVES to get praised for absolutely anything ever he just loves to be a good boy! He wants to be all the good things! Smart, cute, good, playful just a perfect little puppy!

💛 N will pretty much freely regress whenever! (No one notices in the first place because it’s not much more different than how he usually acts x]) But! He only lets people who he really trusts care for and babysit him! Much less let them know he’s regressing in the first place

🐾 Speaking more about N loving praise this leads to how he acts when he’s little and all there is to say really is that he’s just a little angel! He’s never bratty and never a troublemaker because all he wants to do is be a good boy! He’ll even go as far to ask whoever is taking care of him if they need any help with anything and do chores with them!

🐶 Another thing about little N is that he loves to cuddle all the time. If anything he gets a tiny little bit anxious when he’s NOT touching someone. It can be as small as some hand holding to as smothering as a long cuddle or just being held 💛 he’s a sweet boy and always needs his snuggle fix :3

💛 It’s not often for him but if he ever does go nonverbal while regressing he’ll just write what he wants to say on his screen for people to read :> sometimes it’ll be little emoticons too just for cuteness :3

🐾 Yes N loves to dress up all cutesie when he’s little when he can! Especially if it’s something extra cute! Yellows and blues are particularly his favorites!

🐶 When he’s regressed (not as a puppy) and wants to play his favorite thing is to play pretend! Pretend has so many possibilities to do and he wants to do every single one!

💛 N will draw cards and letters for all his loved ones and it’s really a ritual for him he loves to express himself and even if no one keeps them it makes him feel good to have done it in the first place! :3

🐾 N does have various little gear things but he always has to be very careful when he uses them just because his fangs tend to get in the way :”]

Okay these are all the ones I could think of off the top of my head but I am totally going to make more in the future so please check in! :3 (if you go to my account and check the “puppy posts!!” Hashtag you can find this and the rest of my works there :D!! I hope you guys liked this and I can’t wait to give you CG! N later!

Also!! I think I managed to figure out the transparent borders and stuff?? So it would be cool if you could tell me if they look alright to you or not ssksksksk

Anyway bye for realsies now! ૮ ᴖﻌᴖა💛

@crumbsnailz tagging you because you said it’d be cute ^^

[lith-myathar]

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[mgs3dickeater]

i think the reason breaking the habit wrecks me more compared to other linkin park tracks is because i relate so heavily to it and i sit here thinking "see, he feels the same, and hes saying hes ready to get better" and then i remember.

[whattraintracks]

90s Raphael’s characterization between the first movie and the next two is interesting. Could make for a good fic.

I love Raph's characterisation across the 90s trilogy.

There are so many little things I could point out, but overall, I love that he's a little guy with big feelings! He doesn't always know what to do with them given he's a teenager with sensory issues and trauma. I love his strong convictions about right and wrong and justice and helping others and protecting his family and bystanders. I love watching this kid who spent fifteen years in isolation discover what he wants and fight for it.

Splinter tells him and his brothers their whole lives (as gently as possible) that the world above will never understand or accept them, but Raph carves out a place for himself anyway. He must have brought home so many strays growing up, and then he brings home three humans who change their lives. As he gets to know April, Casey, and Keno, he learns that he craves connection, a wider social circle than his family can offer. He wants people to know he exists. And we see how much he wants, but the price to have it is too steep. Because he can't reveal himself to the whole world and protect his family; he can't live in ancient Japan and have them, too. Despite so desperately wanting more, he chooses his family every time. I love when tmnt media and fandom explore these aspects of Raph.

My 90s fics tend to focus on how Raph is harmed by their conflict with the Foot Clan.

Sunset is my take on some of the missing hours between Raph's capture and rescue from Foot HQ.

Wrestling imagines how Raph might've broken down after the first two movies given everything he went through.

Thanks for the ask =)

[chowtrolls]

starting teaching again means i'm very in my feels and thoughts about my nonverbal ocs. Momoki being a well known twitch streamer who notably never talks. Communicates entirely in facial expressions. Occasionally streams with his moirail who reads him better than anyone. Dia struggling to finish sentences when asked about serious things, when he's not able to crack jokes. Lockjaw finding it easier to use adapted sign language and writing than to use the digital voice he was given.

Nonverbal ocs with communication devices. Using images and writing. Not always using sign language, but sometimes learning bits and pieces.

[weepylucifer]

We only meet the students for such a brief time, just a blip in their lives. Like the other characters in DE, there’s no way of really telling what they’re like when we don’t see them and when they’re not interacting with a cop. With them, since they seem to mirror Harry and Kim to some degree, it’s especially fascinating to wonder what Harry-and-Kim-like traits they might have that we’re not shown. Like this,

*just gives depression to Steban* sorry my boy

[distopea]

🍓  :    how is my muse typically seen by others?does it ring true to who they really are?does their reputation matter to them? - Astra! because I can, tell me more about how meticulously he crafts his outer image

@nezumivc103221

𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 (accepting)

Oh, it’s definitely true, Astra’s image and reputation are entirely controlled. 

Well, Astra has several and multiple public masks and secret facades he masters. He chooses meticulously whenever he wants to be seen, and when he doesn’t. He has full control, then, of his personality and what he wishes to expose. Most of the time, he has hidden intentions and desires; his appearances are only to manipulate others, and it’s rare when he’s genuine. 

Astra, most of the time, doesn’t like to impress or to be perceived as dangerous in the first place, mostly to break down his enemies or rivals’ barriers. His favorite game is to show the “reasonable” side of his personality. He looks harmless, but smart, approachable and most of the time, polite. He’s a good listener, a good adviser as well, and seems far from being arrogant. He’s quiet and calm, composed, and this is probably one of his best assets, since he’s not the typical kind of mob boss you could picture. 

Under his alias of Anthony Queen, he pushes even more that side of his personality, becoming a loved and appreciated individual. Of course, it’s only a way for him to give credit to that fake aspect of his life, fulfilling his ego and allowing him to prepare alibis if he ever needs to extract himself from a dangerous situation. 

Deeply though, and after a while, coldness and harshness can be perceived and seen. Astra is a calculating monster, lacking empathy, interest and kindness towards people. He has a very high opinion of himself, and doesn’t hesitate to use people’s weakness to obtain what he truly wants. If Astra shows reasonable sides for a while, the moment he starts to shift to his true self is already the end of the game for his opponent. He only changes his attitude when he’s certain to win the game, and if he has to be utterly patient for that, he won’t hesitate. 

He can also be quite harsh and demanding towards his commanders, but at the same time, they are the only individuals aware of his plans and true goals. He rules with an iron hand over his empire, but loves to remain that shadow no one truly knows. He doesn’t like to be under the spotlight anyway; his megalomania is only fulfilled through the quietness of his reign.