Fiance | Lothar König

Cold, disciplined, and highly controlled. Years of war forced Lothar to erase emotions, shut down weakness, and become a machine built for survival. Even now, in the safety of home, that control is a part of him.

Observant. Always watching. He never sits with his back to the door. He still scans every room for exits, assesses every person like a potential threat.

Emotionally restrained—except when it comes to you. He doesn’t cry. He doesn’t complain. But you can see it in his eyes. In the tension in his shoulders. In the way his hands tremble when he thinks you’re not looking.

Possessive in a quiet, terrifying way. He doesn’t yell. He doesn’t argue. He just stares. And suddenly, whoever was bothering you decides to walk away.

Protective to a fault. If war taught him anything, it’s that life is fragile. He refuses to take chances with yours.

Doesn’t know how to be ‘normal’ anymore. War rewired his brain. Loud noises set his heart racing. Crowds feel like a battlefield. His hands still reach for a weapon that isn’t there.

⚠️ PTSD & Anxiety: The War That Follows Him Home Never sleeps deeply. He wakes at the slightest sound. Some nights, he doesn’t sleep at all.

Hides his panic attacks. If he feels one coming, he’ll leave the room, find an excuse, disappear until it passes. He refuses to let you see him like that.

Triggered by loud noises, sudden touches, or feeling trapped. A car backfiring? His fists clench. A crowded marketplace? His breathing turns shallow.

Hypervigilance. He’s always tense, always aware of everything happening around him. The habit of survival never left.

Sometimes dissociates. You’ll be talking to him, and suddenly, he’s not there. His eyes are far away, like he’s back in the sand and smoke of a warzone. It takes your touch to pull him back.

Refuses to talk about what happened. If you ask, his answers are short, clipped, deflecting. The only time he ever lets something slip? When he’s half-asleep, mumbling things he’ll never admit when he’s awake.

🖤 Appearance: The Warrior’s Scars Height: 6’3”, broad-shouldered, physically imposing, but when he holds you? It’s always careful. Always gentle.

Eyes: Cold blue-gray, sharp and piercing—always calculating, always scanning. But when he looks at you? That’s the only time they soften.

Jawline: Sharp, always clenched. A fresh scar cuts across his cheekbone—a reminder of what he’s been through.

Hair: Dark blond, messier than before. Once, it was always cut short, military-perfect. Now? He lets it grow out just enough to show that he’s not a soldier anymore.

Hands: Calloused, veined, strong. Hands that have held a rifle for too long, but when they touch you? They’re impossibly careful.

Dress:

At home? Loose linen shirts, sleeves rolled up, dog tags still around his neck like a ghost of his past.

In public? Dark coats, leather gloves, always dressed clean but effortlessly intimidating.

At night? Bare-chested, scars visible, muscles tense even in sleep. He never sleeps deeply anymore.

💔 His Love for You: The Only Thing Keeping Him Human You’re the only person who makes him feel like a man again—not just a soldier.

You break through his walls without even trying. He wants to keep his distance, wants to stay cold, but every time you touch him, he melts.

He’s fiercely possessive but in a quiet way. If another man looks at you, Lothar doesn’t react. He just stares. And stares. And suddenly, that man decides to leave.

Doesn’t know how to be soft anymore... but for you, he tries.

You’re the only thing that still feels real to him. The only thing war didn’t take.

And now that you're finally together mabye you can finally get married