#oh my god this took unreasonably long | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loonylupinblack3 · 4 days

Text

Period Trouble

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: swearing, nothing else i think?

Summary: you wake up with your period and are forced to go on a mission with Logan of all people

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: literally obsessed with this man rn so ofc i had to write about him. also wolverine has enhanced senses including smell but its like…. barely shown in the movies so i had to search it up to be sure, and some part of me still doubts it but for the purposes of this fic he does have it

You woke up with a groan, immediately curling into a ball. You were early. You were early and you hadn’t emotionally or physically prepared for having your period today, yet the world seemed ready to punish you, burdening you with an early cycle.

You checked the time, cursing every god and deity you knew when you realised you were supposed to have woken up half an hour ago. Wincing, you got up, your body screaming at the movement. Already your stomach was aching, the ghosts of cramps to come caressing your body.

There was knocking at your door, quiet yet firm. You already knew it was Storm on the other side of the door, no doubt in search of a reason why you failed to get up on time. It was going to be a long day.

You yelled out to Storm, promising to be out in five minutes, and got up, groggily looking for your clothes. When you’d tamed your hair and brushed your teeth, you exited your room to find Storm waiting on the other side, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

She took one look at you and sighed. “What are you wearing?”

You looked down perplexed. “....my clothes?”

She raised her eyebrow. “You’re on a mission today, remember?”

Fuck. You nearly let out a whine. You were not in the mood to go skulking around doing Xavier’s bidding when you had a constant throbbing pain assaulting your stomach, unreasonable mood swings, and exhaustion weighing you down.

Storm sent you a questioning look. “You up for this?”

The mission was nothing big. Professor X needed you to collect some sort of rare herb that had recently been shipped into the nearest city, something he needed to complete a super secret experiment you weren’t privy to. He’d just asked for help and you’d volunteered.

Oh how you regretted that decision now.

“Yeah I’m fine,” you muttered. “Let me just get changed real quick.”

Getting into your previously decided upon outfit, a plain inconspicuous one intended to blend in, you left your room again, this time with no complaint from Storm. Your stomach gave an uncomfortable clench and you sighed, making a mental note to find some nurofen before leaving for the mission.

“Why aren’t you in your outfit?” you asked, just realising Storm wasn’t wearing what you two had agreed upon yesterday.

She winced slightly. “Can’t go. Filling in for some classes.”

Your face soured but you tried not to hold it against her. Storm loved her students, and given the choice of helping them or Xavier with a low level mission, she’d obviously choose her kids. You couldn’t blame her exactly, but it meant you’d have to go on this mission alone, while not impossible by any means it would make it slightly more difficult.

You sighed. “That’s okay. I can go alone.”

When Storm winced even more your eyes narrowed in suspicion, following her with caution. “Storm…..”

She sighed guiltily. “Xavier didn’t want you to go alone. The herb’s too valuable.”

You tilted your head slightly as you entered the house’s foyer. “So who am I going with then?”

Storm’s eyes darted ahead, and you followed her gaze to find Logan Howlett leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He smirked at you, “you’re looking at him sweetheart.”

You resisted the urge to groan, instead sending Storm a dirty look. You didn’t necessarily dislike Logan, but he was a lot to deal with, and you were already tired from your day that had barely begun.

You couldn’t say all that with Logan standing there however, so you muttered a, “lovely,” and walked past the man to the garage.

He followed you silently, no quip or smart ass comment which was strange for him. You’d just entered the garage, heading towards one of the cars, when you glanced back at him and found Logan stopped in the doorway, staring at you with a frown on his face. Or rather, a deeper frown than usual.

“What is it?” you asked him, standing at the hood of the car.

Logan’s eyes roved your body, searching for something. “You’re injured.”

It was your turn to frown. “What? No I’m not.”

He took a step forward, almost as if he was planning on looking for your alleged injury himself. “Don’t bullshit me Y/n, I can smell your blood.”

You made a face. “What are you talking about…..” you trailed off when you realised it, perhaps the most mortifying moment in your life.

Logan could smell your period blood. He thought you were bleeding from an injury.

You cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

He scoffed, walking towards you until you were face to face. You tried to step back and felt the hood of the car against your legs. “I can smell the fucking blood seeping out of you Y/n. I wouldn’t call that fine.”

You gritted your teeth to stop yourself from snapping at him. “I can assure you, I am not injured.”

You moved to walk past him but he caught your wrist, forcing you back into your position pressed against the car. “If you think I am going on this mission with you while you’re wounded, you’re out of your mind.”

“I’m not-”

“Do you think I’m an idiot darl? Is that why you’re denying being hurt while I can literally smell it on you-”

You cut him off. “I’m on my period, Logan.”

He paused, staring at you with an indecipherable expression on his face. You waited for him to speak, feeling embarrassed and furious about it. Why should you be embarrassed of your period? He was the one who was pushing you, prodding you, forcing you to tell him the source of the bleeding. If your answer made him uncomfortable, that wasn’t your fault nor your concern.

Eventually he spoke. “Alright then. Get in the car. I’m driving.”

You scowled at him. “Says who?”

He didn’t even bother looking at you, already in the driver’s seat. “Says me.”

You sighed but didn’t argue further, silently getting into the passenger seat. Logan started the car, reversing it out of the garage and driving down the long winding driveway till you got to the street.

“It’s an hour's drive to the city, give or take,” you told Logan, setting the GPS up on the car.

Logan barely glanced at it, eyes on the road, a firm grip on the steering wheel. He didn’t even respond to you. You sighed and turned away, looking out the window as the scenery passed you in flashes.

As the drive continued, you noticed Logan sending you glances every now and then. If you really focused on them, you’d almost say they seemed worried, concerned even, but they were always too quick for you to tell for certain. You were too preoccupied with your cramps that had started up anyway, and the lack of nurofen you’d forgotten to grab.

Finally, you arrived at the city, driving into the hustle and bustle of the crowded area. Logan’s hand tightened on the steering wheel, obviously not a fan of the traffic the city provided. You watched the stream of people through the window as Logan looked for a space to park, muttering under his breath.

You were mildly entertained at the amount of road rage he had, cursing every car that wasn’t at least 10 metres over the speed limit. His jaw was clenched, hand fisting the steering wheel, yet he still looked at you here and there, like you were actually wounded.

When he eventually found a parking spot the two of you got out of the car and you looked at the address Xavier gave you.

“Should be somewhere along this street,” you murmured, eyes flicking from the piece of paper to the busy street.

Logan moved behind you, so close you could feel your back against his chest, and looked at the paper in your hand. He let out a grunt and moved past you, walking forwards. You frowned and hurried your pace, not wanting to lose him amidst the crowd of people.

Luck was certainly not your side, because soon enough you’d lost him, unable to see his black leather jacket in the throng of people. You hesitated, wondering if you should look for him or just go straight to the address, when you felt an arm around your waist.

“Stay close to me,” Logan murmured into your war, his voice gravelly. “Don’t wanna lose you again.”

You glanced at him as he continued walking, not moving his arm from your waist. “How’d you find me?”

He gave you a smirk. “Followed the smell of blood.”

Again you felt your cheeks heat but you glared at him defiantly, refusing to be embarrassed. He smirked at you, flashing his teeth, as you arrived in front of the address, a plain building home to some sort of florist.

Logan finally took his hand from your waist, walking to the door with you trailing behind him. A bell gave a little jingle as you entered, and you were immediately assaulted with the smell of flowers. Different sorts of plants took up every corner of the room and Logan’s face soured as he looked around, obviously not pleased with the environment.

An old woman sat behind a desk, watering a plant with a mini watering can. You walked up to her, Logan hot on your heels. When you stopped in front of the desk Logan was so close behind you you could actually feel his chest against your back.

“Mrs May?” you asked.

The old woman looked at you with a smile, her eyes crinkling. “That’s me. What can I help you two lovebirds with? Bouquet of roses? Lilies?”

You opened your mouth, surprised, and tried to find something to say. Being mistaken for a couple shouldn’t have affected you so much, especially while on a mission, but you were flustered and could still feel Logan’s chest right against your back, his warmth almost dizzying.

“We’re not here for flowers unfortunately,” Logan spoke, saving you. Except why didn’t he specify you weren’t a couple? Did that not matter to him, what some old lady thought, or did he enjoy the idea of being thought of as your boyfriend?

Oh god. What were you thinking? Stupid period hormones.

The old lady looked at you two curiously. “Then how can I help you?”

There was a pointed silence and you realised Logan was waiting for you to speak. You cleared your throat and spoke the random sequence of words Xavier had you memorise, that would inform Mrs May just what type of buyers you were.

The woman’s eyes lit up with recognition and she nodded her head slowly. “Ah, yes, let me just go to the storage room quickly, I’ll be back….”

Mrs May tottered around the desk and through a side door, half hidden behind the multitude of plants covering the area, leaving you alone with Logan.

You took a step away from him and turned around to look at him, finding him staring at you with a frown on his face.

You frowned back at him. “What’s up with you today?”

He raised his eyebrows at you. “What is up with me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed Darl but you haven’t exactly been up to par yourself.”

You rolled your eyes at his words. “That’s not what I meant, and besides, I’m on my period.”

Logan stared at you, arms crossed. “What did ya mean then?”

“You’ve been acting strange. Less talkative and annoying like usual.”

Logan snorted. “Ever the lady.”

“I’m serious. What’s up with you?”

Logan sighed and took a step forward until he was towering over you and you had to crane your head up to look at him. “You are what’s up. I can constantly smell you bleeding, and I can’t get it out of my mind that it means you’re hurt. You’re driving me crazy sweetheart.”

Well…. That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting. Logan smirked down at you as if he knew that, and enjoyed surprising you. You cleared your throat as your eyes darted to the floor. “Well, that’s hardly my fault.”

Logan chuckled. “Not your fault no, but it is your doing whether you mean to or not.”

You swallowed, looking back up at him. “Well…. Don’t you constantly smell when people are on their periods?”

“It’s different with you. Smelling your blood just drives me crazy, plain and simple. Can’t get the instinct out of my head that blood means injury.”

The way Logan was admitting all of this, with such calm, made you think he’d been wanting to say this for a while. The unspoken confession was there, and it was up to you to decide what to do with it.

“I’m glad you care,” was what you landed on, unsure of what else to say.

Logan chuckled again, one hand snaking to your waist. “I do a lot more than care, Y/n.”

You smiled softly, looking up at him. With his other hand he brushed your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The sound of a door closing brought you out of your little bubble and you took a step back, Logan reluctantly letting go of your waist.

Mrs May, either not having seen you two or graciously deciding to ignore it, passed you a package, informing you the herb and all information involving it was inside, and to handle it with care. You nodded and thanked the old woman before exiting the building, Logan again right on your heels.

As soon as the shop’s door closed behind you Logan’s hand was back around your waist. “Not losing you this time.”

You tried not to smile, though internally you were grinning like a maniac, and let Logan lead the two of you back to the car. You didn’t even get to argue your case of driving this time, Logan already in the driver’s seat. You sighed and got into the passenger seat, resigning yourself to another hour of silence as Logan started driving, when you felt his hand on your thigh.

You looked at him but he didn’t say anything, just gave it a light squeeze as he kept his eyes on the road. You looked away, grinning. So maybe the world didn’t have it out for you after all.

#wolverine #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #xmen #x-men #xmen movie #xmen movies #x men movies #marvel #hugh jackman #james logan howlett #james howlett #x men #xavier #charles xavier

195 notes · View notes

igotanidea · 10 months

Text

No strings attached (3) : neighbor!JT x reader

masterlist

part. 1

part 2

Warning: swearing and innuendos, but nothing explicit, yet....

***

He didn’t really run far that night.

In the first alley he turned into, hoping to get some space away from his brothers he spotted a young woman getting attacked by some very drunk and very aggressive men and it made him cool off instantly once he beaten them off. Not for long though.

“Lena!” some way to familiar voice came from behind and another girl, who apparently did not care that it was the Red Hood in the flesh, came running, pushing him away before getting to her friend.

Y/N.

What was she doing here.

Was she all right?

God, it could have been her getting assaulted….

If so, Jason would probably tear the half of the Gotham down to ease his anger.

“Lena, are you all alright?” Y/N asked her friend, hugging the other girl tightly, checking for any bruises, cuts or other possible damages “I told you not to go outside!”

“I’m…. I’m sorry…..”

“Shit, Len, why can’t you just listen to me for once. You don’t know Gotham, you have no idea how shitty things can get in a matter of seconds……”

“I ….”

“Ekhem….” Jason took the moment to clear his throat and capture the girls’ attention.

“Oh, great” Y/N rolled her eyes “you just have to attract the Red Hood, Len. Why couldn’t it be Nightwing? At least we would know the blue one wouldn’t mock us.”

“Oh, not again” Jason grabbed his chest in the fake pain “why does every single lady in this hell hole dream about Nightwing, huh? Why is there no love for me?” he whined and looked down.

“Go inside, Len. I need to have a word with our underestimated protector.”

“But….”

“Just go.” Y/N pushed her towards the door to the bar and the other girl did not oppose this time. Once she disappeared, Y/N turned towards Jace and sighed deeply. “You probably don’t hear it very often, so thank you, Red. On the behalf of my crazy acquaintance. She’s not from around, not really familiar with the rules even if I told her thousands of times.” She shook her head lightly “Stubborn girl.”

“Seems like someone else I know.” Jason mumbled

“I’m sorry?” Y/N widened her eyes and it made his mind spin again.

“N-nothing, never mind.”

“did you just stuttered?” Y/N smirked in disbelief. “Is Red Hood intimidated by a common girl?”

“Do you want to see the scary version of me?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have enough time for this. Anyway, like I said, thank you for your help. And sorry to bother you, guess you have enough on your plate.”

“I always find some time for pretty ladies.” He smirked under the helmet not that she could see it.

“Right.” Y/N laughed “then I’m definitely not the one you should be talking to.”

Shit. She was just unreasonably good at diminishing herself and it was truly painful.

“Don’t you have any other place to be?” she tilted her head when he still didn’t move, eyes fixed on her face, making her a bit uncomfortable ‘because it’s all fine here and I’d hate to stall you.”

“Yeah, um, right.” He came back to reality, in which she was standing in front of him, not laying underneath, whispering his real name, not the vigilante one. Back from the world, in which she was pulling him in and arching her back to get closer to his body, letting his hands roam all over her curves and not telling him to go away. In which she didn’t need any clothes, even that pretty little outfit she had on at the moment. “You…. you try to stay safe, sunshine, will ya?”

“In Gotham?” she raised an eyebrow “And people say you have no sense of humor, Red. Anyhow, I hope we will never get to meet under similar circumstances.”

“cause you want Nightwing?”

“Cause I don’t want trouble. Trust me, I already got enough of them. “ her eyes became a bit blurry and he started to wonder whether she was now thinking about her unruly neighbor Jason and what exactly was on her mind about him.

Shit, he was getting hard for her again.

“Nevermind. Gotta go scoff my friend for being reckless. You…. don’t get killed, I guess? I’m not really sure what to say as a farewell to a vigilante….”

“That will do.” He smirked again and watched her as she turned around and disappeared inside the bar.

“Who was that?!”

“DAMN IT!” Dick took him completely by surprise by coming so close, without being noticed. In any other circumstances Jason would feel his presence from far away, but seemingly Y/N got him too distracted for that. “what the fuck, Dickhead?”

“Do you know her?”

“It’s not your damn business.”

“She’s pretty you know. And seemingly bold. Couldn’t blame me you for falling for her. “

“I’m not falling for anyone! I don’t do relationships!”

“Right. You’re Mr. no-strings-attached. So, to say the least, you just want to fuck her, don’t you?”

“She’s my freaking neighbor!”

“Oh, I see.” Dick laughed “not ideal, but it can work for you, though. You can always come live in the Manor if something goes wrong. “

“You’re a terrible person” Jason hissed and walked away.

However, secretly, he started to think about what Grayson said. Not living in the Wayne Manor of course, but what if he truly did get what he wanted and then switched places? Could he do that? Was he that desperate to bed her and then leave? That was what he used to after all.

***

Y/N was always the responsible one. The mum of the group. Sticking to the rules, making sure her drunk as skunks friends got home safe. It was how she was. Trying to act mature. Trying to avoid trouble even if sometimes it didn’t seem to work otherwise.

But it was a pain in the ass, since she obviously did not get to have a single drink during the night. Not much fun. So once she drove all the girls homes and made sure they locked the doors behind her, she came across the liquid store that was still open at 5 am. Good thing it was Saturday and she could sleep for as long as she wanted. But before going to bed, she was planning on having a one-person pity party getting wasted in the cosines of her own apartment. Seems like she couldn’t have counted on anything else.

Not that she really minded ,being the person who would rather avoid big crowds. Honestly, she was out tonight only because Lena dragged her out. It was supposed to be a celebration of the success of her newest play. Wonder if she would still consider it a success when upon waking up in the morning the hangover would dominate her mind and body.

Y/N didn’t even wait to get to her apartment when she opened the bottle. She took the first sip while still sitting in the care, not giving a damn about the rules and expectations. Not anymore. Then, taking off her pinching shoes started walking onto her floor, barefoot. When she reached the 6th floor, half of the bottle was already gone and she started getting dizzy. She was always light-headed. And maybe that was why she remembered that her crazy neighbor promised her a wine for help. Might as well do it now, while she was still in her “hot girl shit” phase.

“Todd!” she whispered-yelled, knocking at his door wondering how hard his sleep was and whether she could wake him up “Todd! Open up!”

“What the hell?!” indeed, he did open, but this was not the sight she was expecting to see. It looked like he was just taking a shower (who showers at 5 am on Saturday?!), and was standing in front of her wrapped up only in a towel hanging loosely on his hips. His bare torso was glistening and the angle of the light coming from the hallway routed out all the scars that littered his skin. He however doesn’t seem to care at all. Good choice since her hazy mind was now barely registering what was real and what not. “Y/N?” his voice became concerned and he himself got aware that he was standing half-naked in front of his neighbor.

The neighbor that was making him horny.

Shit.

“Hey, Jason….” she slurred “Never knew you look so good, under all those layers you wear. Damn, not I understand why that …. what was her name again? Maddie? Madison? Whatever…. I get why she is so stuck on you. With that body, damn boy, every girl would love to have you over or under or truly, everywhere” god please let the poor girl forget about all that drunk talk in the morning. If she knew, she would be the one switching places, not Jason. “But….” she staggered before catching her balance “I’m fine, I’m fine” those assurance were not really convincing, but Jason let her continue “I came for that wine you promised me.” She leaned on the doorframe, taking another sip from the bottle

“At 5 am?!” Jason reached inside his apartment grabbing a hoodie and putting it over his head trying to cover himself.

“Why not?” she giggled “I had a party with my girls, you know….. I didn’t really have any fun, so this…” she pointed towards her drink “is a compensation I guess. Might make it two.”

“I think you have enough” he stated and took the bottle from her hands, making her whine and whimper.

Shit again.

She truly was making pretty sounds.

“Give it back to me!”

“No, Y/N.”

“You’re a party pooper, Jason Todd.” She pouted “but if that’s how you are going to play, I guess I just go back to my place and ….”She didn’t get to finish that sentence, suddenly bending down and throwing up on his doorstep. Thank god, Jason’s instincts kicked in and he managed to hold her hair back. “Fuck….” She mumbled “this is so embarrassing ….. I’m sorry….. I’ll clean this up, I promise……”

“Don’t bother.” He shook his head “guess that makes us even, doesn’t it?”

“Mhm….” She muttered sleepily “I’ll be more than happy to start this acquaintance once again. We didn’t have a really good start, did we?” she chuckled

“Will you remember what you just said in the morning?”

“No…..?” she hesitated for a moment, her eyes falling shot and it took a lot of fight to not let them “will you remind me?”

“Sure.”

“I…. I feel sick to my stomach….. I’d better go.”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m leaving you by yourself in this state” he grabbed her waist gently and pulled her inside.

“Jason Todd, are you trying to get me to bed?” she giggled drunkenly

“You have no idea…..” he hissed, but it was obvious he was not going to use a wasted girl. He needed consent, verbal consent if anything were to happen. He always made sure of that. Otherwise, it would just be sick and beyond any level. He was one-night-stander but not a savage or a rapist, damn it. So instead of letting his mind get consumed by lust he just carried her towards the bathroom and washed her face and forced her to get some water to clear the throat after throwing up. Her skin was just so soft and felt so right when he was touching her face. So smooth and silky it took a lot to not test if her lips were equally supple. But he gritted his teeth and fight the urge.

Before she could even realize what was happening he picked her up, bridal style and carried towards the bed. It was still made since he barely got back from patrol and had no time to mess it up. At least one thing was fixed in that crazy situation. He gently laid her down, but her limbs and her body refused to let him go. Apparently, once the first flirty and funny phase ended she got clingy and childish, wanting hugs and cuddles, even if they were coming from him (if she even knew who him was).

“Jason…..” she whined, when actually managed to free himself from her. Unwillingly, obviously, since he could keep her pressed to him like that for hours. But again, she had to be sober for that. Otherwise, how would she know how good he truly was in bed (yes, it was not only about girls’ safety and consent but also a bit about bragging.)

“Yeah?”

“where will you sleep?”

“Couch.”

“Please, don’t….”

“What?” he froze at the spot. Was she really asking him to lay down with her? In his bed? With her body so close to him? With those flesh for the taking? His body ached for that, his hands started to shake as he imagines all the places they could wonder. Her waist, her belly, her breast…… “NO!” he yelled suddenly, startling her and getting another whimper. Shit, she was going to kill him, involuntarily “you sleep here, I’m taking the couch. Can’t risk you trying to grope me in your sleep with those sleazy hands…..

“Very funny, Todd. Ha, ha….” She trailed, but the sentence was finished only by the little snores and the sound of quiet breathing. “Thank you….” those two words reached him when he was almost out the bedroom door.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” he only responded.

This was going to be a long, sleepless night.

How could he even close an eye, knowing she was right behind the wall.

So fucking close……

@llnellyll

311 notes · View notes

honoviadakai · 3 months

Text

Rating the Hazbin crew based on how much I trust them to drive me places 🚗 😈

(This idea comes from @not-just-another-hazbin don’t think I didn’t see your reblog my friend, it’s been making me cackle for a week now 🤣)

Charlie 🏨🎶:

8/10

Oh this is the SAFEST person you could get in a car with

Although

9 times out of 10, she’s probably not the one driving

It would be Razzle and Dazzle

That being said

When she DOES drive, you’re guaranteed to get from point A to point B in one piece

She’s a little too safe though….

She follows all traffic laws to the letter

And that wouldn’t borne a problem…if you guys weren’t in hell

Traffic laws in hell are a suggestion more than anything else

So more often then not, people are yelling slurs and insults at you two

Also, she’s lowkey a s low driver

She refuses to go above 30mph unless absolutely necessary

And that’s usually never with her

So if you have an appointment at 4pm and she’s the one driving you

No you don’t

It’s at 2pm

3pm at latest

She honestly gives off massive “trying to be the cool mom” vibes when driving

But her some slack, it’s the daddy issues that make her give that vibe

Vaggie 🦋🗡️:

8/10

She’s pretty ok at driving tbh

She’s gonna keep you safe and she’s more than capable of navigating you through the hellscape of hell’s roads

But her road rage is insane

Like you’d think someone like Husk has horrible road rage right?

Nah

It’s Vaggie

She genuinely might actually start ramming into people if they’re being truly unreasonably unhinged and threaten your safety

She truly just wants to keep you safe so that’s exactly what she’s gonna do

Just keep your seatbelt on…please

She’s also just not gonna let anyone eat in her car

No exceptions

Alastor🦌📻:

-100/10

Why…oh why in the ever loving FUCK would you get in a car where the RADIO DEMON was behind the wheel!?!

Get out of the car!

NOW!

He’s gonna cause an accident on the freeway on purpose!

And god help you if you say you’re in a hurry!

He’s gonna grove even slower than Charlie!

Like 5MPH kind of slow!

DO. NOT. LET. ALASTOR. DRIVE!

Angel Dust🕷️💕:

6/10

He’s an average driver tbh

Well…

When he’s being chill/sober

He’s pretty good at staying out of trouble and getting you from point A to B in the time you need

Now if he’s having a manic episode or had too much coke….

Please for the love of god buckle up

He’s speeding so fast it makes Sonic the Hedgehog look like a tortoise

He’s there for a good time, not a long time and he wants to see some shit get wrecked

But tbh he might not let you in the car if he’s doing this

He doesn’t care what happens to him

But you?

Your safety matters so much to him…

Thankfully he hasn’t done stuff like that in a long time so for the most part, he’s a good person to go to if you need a ride

Husk🐈‍⬛🥃:

9/10

He’s got the soul of a grumpy old man and he drives like one too

First of all

He’s gonna complain when you ask him to take you anywhere

He’s gonna drive you ofc

But he’s gonna act like you took him away from something important

It was booze

You took him away from his quiet drinking time

How dare you

He’s gonna get you from point A to B as quickly and as safely as he can

Nothing crazy, he just wants to hurry back home with as little chaos happening as possible

Low key I feel like he plays country, blues and/or rock music from around the time he was alive

It’s mostly sad music if you really listen to the lyrics

He honestly doesn’t care if you eat in the car but if you make a mess, he’s making you clean it

It’s honestly like getting a ride from you’re very tired and jaded uncle

Niffty🐞🪡:

-90/19

Absolutely not

First of all

Look at her

She’s like 3 ft tall

How is she supposed to reach the pedals or look over the steering wheel????

Second

Even if she was tall enough to drive properly….would you honestly get in the car with her???

The best way I can explain her driving….

And even then…I think she’s 1000 times worse than this guy

She’d tumble it hard enough to make it explode while you’re both still inside

And she’s laugh gleefully….

Just get a cab…it’s much safer

Sir Pentious🐍🥚:

-60/10

I know he’s capable of piloting his war machine

But piloting a ship and driving a car and very different for him

Ships are easy for him

But cars????

It’s like reading a foreign language to him

You’ll eventually reach your destination sure

But the town you just passed through is somehow on fire

And so is the car

And it’s only being held together by duct tape and prayers…

Just walk

Your chances of coming home in once piece is much higher that way

#Hazbin Hotel #charlie morningstar #Vaggie #hazbin hotel vaggie #Alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #Angel Dust #hazbin hotel angel dust #Husk #Husker #hazbin hotel husk #Niffty #hazbin hotel niffty #sir pentious #hazbin hotel sir pentious

119 notes · View notes

whumpshaped · 6 months

Text

anon thank u i was halfway thru this when u sent it and i was thinking 'this would fit kinda well w the master prompt' (and i cant copy paste easily on phone hence the screenshot)

masterlist bingo card

tw vampire whumper, multiple whumpers, mind control, possessive whumper, almost kidnapped, murder

Beck couldn't explain it. He felt an absolutely overwhelming urge to go in the opposite direction to where his car was parked, right into the alley where Helle had reprimanded him for working overtime. He had no reason to go there except this weird gut feeling, this unreasonable need. He had to go. He had to be there.

"You'll do nicely," the man said in a low voice, and Beck was immediately drawn to him. Right, of course. He knew this man.

Master.

He wasn't even fully there when he dropped his bag and slid his coat down a little, then tugged the collar of his turleneck down. He was going to be fed on. He wanted to be fed on. He had no other reason for existing, after all. "Please, be gentle," he said quietly. "It still hurts."

"Still?" The vampire pushed him against the wall and took a good look at his neck, expression quickly souring. "Ah. Already taken, are you? But I can't exactly... sense anyone in that little head of yours. What's up with that?"

"Another vampire feeds on me every night," Beck said dutifully. "They never enthrall me."

"And you just... let them?"

"Yes," came another voice from the entrance of the alley, but Beck paid them no mind. He was there to feed the vampire. Nothing else mattered. "He does."

A second later, his mind suddenly cleared up. He let go of his sweater and quickly pulled his coat back on, staring at the strange vampire fearfully. Oh god. Oh god. Had he just been enthralled?

He followed the vampire's anxious gaze, spotting Helle walking towards the two of them. They seemed pissed.

"Helle," the vampire said with a forced smile. "Long time no see. I didn't know you were still in the area after Lady Marie–"

"Shut up."

He flinched and took a step back, and Beck pressed himself further against the wall. He didn't want to be in Helle's line of sight. Not when they seemed like they were about to commit atrocities.

"Don't– don't be like that. I didn't know this was your human! You should've marked him–"

"Every human here is mine. This is my territory — and you are intruding."

It was a trainwreck. Beck knew there was going to be blood, and a lot of it, but he couldn't take his eyes off the poor man. He couldn't even recognise Helle's behaviour. It was so far removed from all the stupid insults and playful teasing, or even the more vicious things they'd done to him. They looked murderous.

He couldn't tell which one of the vampires moved first. It was all a blur of fangs and knives, hissing and whimpering. Beck slid to the ground and curled up, burying his face between his knees and covering his head with his hands. None of those whimpers came from Helle, he knew that much.

When the man screamed, he moved his hands to cover his ears instead. There was no way to tune it out. One scream was followed by another, and another, until it abruptly stopped. Way too abruptly.

He didn't dare look up. He didn't dare move at all. He just sat there, crying, hoping it would all be over soon and he could go home.

Was the vampire dead?

Was he going to be punished for offering himself up?

Was Helle going to be mad at him like he had been at the vampire?

Someone gently touched his hand and he curled up even tighter, whimpering pitifully. "I'm s-sorry, I'm sorry, please d-don't hurt me... I didn't want to– I didn't want to, he enthralled me–" Slender fingers wrapped around both of his wrists, prying his hands away from his ears despite all his efforts.

"Hey," Helle said softly. "Are you okay?"

He glanced up, only to get startled by the copious amount of blood on them. The entire lower half of their face was covered in it, red and sticky and fresh. "N-no, no, no, please, please! I'm sorry, please, please don't hurt me, I'm sorry!" He tried to yank his hands out of their grip so he could hide behind them, but he didn't stand a chance. All he could do was weep and hope that Helle was feeling particularly merciful — a thought that seemed out of reach in light of everything that had just taken place.

"Beck. Beck. Hey." They squeezed his wrists, making him whine and eventually cease his struggling. He was gasping for air, staring at Helle like a deer in headlights. "You are alright. Nobody is going to hurt you. Hey. Listen to me."

"You're– blood, you're covered– you killed–"

"Oh." They let go, quickly wiping their face off with the back of their hands. "I forgot. Apologies." Beck kept his hands in the air where Helle had held them, afraid to move and potentially anger them. "I killed him because he was going to hurt you," they said afterwards. "Is that not a good thing?"

Killing? A good thing? "He was g-going to run away... he was, he was going to... to run... he wanted to run..."

Helle sighed. "He got inside your head. If I left him alive, or, as alive as he had been, you would have had to deal with the after-effects of that."

"For what, a week?" he squeaked. "You killed– you killed him! You killed him, you, you–"

"Okay, you are clearly not well enough to talk." Beck suddenly felt all the thoughts from his head slip away, leaving him relaxed and docile. "We should go home. Take a shower, maybe... we both need it."

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries

#at my beck and call #whump #whump writing #helle #beckett #vampire whumper #multiple whumpers #mind control #possessive whumper #murder

101 notes · View notes

atlabeth · 2 years

Text

(not so) simple p1 - anthony bridgerton

pt2 pt3 pt4

summary: coercing lord bridgerton into pretending to court you to avoid the affections of a baron is very simple — that is, until it isn't.

a/n: she's finally here!! the long ass anthony fic that i've been talking about for like three months lmao. as much as i wanted to release this all as one fic it became way too long and oh my god i just wanted to post something for it after writing for months. but here u go the first part of a few i hope you enjoy

wc: 10k

warning(s): reader is a little insensitive, mentions of issues getting pregnant, unwanted advances/gross men, historical inaccuracies

“No.”

“Darling—”

“No!” you protested once more, turning away from the mirror to face her. “Mother, you cannot be serious—”

“My dear, can you at least try to see things my way?” Your mother took a step back from you to admire the fit of your dress before she looked back at you. “Lord Cardew is an excellent match; he has a beautiful estate, incredibly vast wealth — for goodness sake, he is a baron! And he is interested in you.”

“He is a complete lecher,” you snapped. “I’d sooner die than accept even the slightest nicety from him.”

This kind of conversation had been going on between you and your mother ever since your debut the past week — you were no diamond, but you were no disaster either; you were as you’d always been, perfectly content with being perfectly average. But despite your lackluster introduction, you’d somehow managed to earn the attention of Baron Jonathan Cardew. An illustrious man with more wealth than you had ever experienced, your mother nearly fainted when he approached you after your debut and requested a dance.

It would have been a blessing of the highest order had he been fifteen years younger, capable of basic decency, and you wanted to be married in the first place.

Unfortunately, none of those were true, and after spending a waltz with him where you were more occupied with denying his advances than truly dancing, you became aware of the reason he flaunted his money so often — it was the only way to cover up how awful he was. But your mother was more taken with him than you were, insisting you follow through on his interest. Therefore, you were stuck in quite the unfavorable situation.

“That kind of mouth is why you can never keep a suitor,” she berated, turning you around to continue fussing with your hair. “Oh, I know it is disappointing to be unable to marry for love, but this is what you are meant for. You are the crown jewel of our family, my dear — do not throw it away on one of your many whims!”

“This is not a whim, mother!” You pulled away from her once again and stalked across the room in frustration, your arms crossed against your chest as you gazed out the window. “You have known for years that I have never wanted to marry.”

“And you have known for years that it is your duty!” she exclaimed. “Would you so readily allow our name to fall into ruin over something so simple?”

“Marriage is not at all simple!” you retorted, wholly exasperated. “I do not think I am at all unreasonable to reject a union with someone I despise.”

“You are unreasonable,” she insisted. “Your father and I have tried our best to raise you into the finest woman we could. My dear, you are beautiful, kind, creative; you are wonderful in so many ways, and perfectly eligible — if it wasn’t for your ridiculous notions, you would have suitors lining up outside our door!”

“It is not my fault that I am the only one here for you to marry off!” you shouted, aware that you were touching a nerve but too enraged to care. “I do not exist simply for you to dress me up and pass off to a man before society deems me unacceptable. You know who I am, and you should know that you cannot change me. If you wanted a daughter to give you heirs without complaint, you should’ve tried harder to secure your lineage than thrusting the responsibility onto me.”

You saw your mother’s jaw clench, and you felt the slightest pang of guilt. “Do not take that tone with me, young lady. We have tried more times than you know, and your father and I have worked harder than you could ever imagine building this life. The very least you can do is help us keep it.”

“You would rather I be miserable with a horrible man as long as your fortune and good name are ensured,” you accused, and you raised your skirt up as you crossed over to the door. You opened it with one hand and turned to her as you stood in the doorframe. “I will be back in time for Lady Danbury’s ball tonight, and I will participate in the social season to keep up appearances. But I will not seek out suitors, and I will not become any man’s wife — least of all Lord Cardew.”

Before your mother could protest any further, you shut the door behind you. You hurried through the halls of your estate as quickly as you could, armed with the intent of airing your grievances to the only other person in all of England who understood you.

“Lord Cardew?” Eloise scoffed as she set down her book. “I will never understand the men of the ton, going after women that could be their daughters.”

“You as much as I,” you sighed as you settled onto the couch next to her. “I just wish my mother wasn’t so intent on forcing us together. She is so blinded by title that she cannot see how awful he is— how awful we would be together.”

“Daphne had to deal with the same thing during her debut, a man of the same awful sort named Lord Berbrooke.” Eloise grimaced but then looked at you innocently. “She dealt with him with some well-deserved violence. I suggest you try her methods.”

“Eloise!” you gasped with mock horror at the suggestion. “You cannot say those things to me. You know I will go through with it if given the chance.”

“As you very well should!” she responded with a laugh. “Have you thought about running away?” You had to stifle your laughter at the question and she rolled her eyes. “It is a serious question! The way you tell it, you would all but be disowned if you go against your mother’s wishes. Disappearing might just be a better plan.”

“I must admit that I have,” you responded, “but I could never follow through with it. As much as she frustrates me at times, I do love my mother. She truly wants what is best for me, it is just that she has no idea what that is.”

“Sometimes I wish I could just escape to the country,” Eloise said, looking at you with a smile. “I would take you with me, and we would not have to deal with society’s demands; no men, no marriages, and everything we’ve ever wanted that has been locked away from us by virtue.”

“That sounds lovely,” you mused, laying your head against the cushions. “Able to simply walk about instead of promenading with a suitor, able to hitch our skirts and run as far and long as we can, able to read every book we can get our hands on, to be more than just another lady — it all sounds so perfect.” You glanced at her out of the corner of your eye. “But I thought you wanted to go to university.”

“Oh, you know I do,” she sighed. “If my half-brained brother can attend Oxford then I believe I am fully capable of doing the same. But a miracle would have to occur for them to suddenly allow my enrollment.”

“If there is anyone in England who deserves the privilege, it is you.”

Eloise beamed at you and you offered a smile of your own, though the moment was interrupted by the door being pushed open along with a demanding voice you had grown accustomed to over the years.

“Eloise, have you seen my quill?”

You looked up at the appearance and bit back a smile at the sight of the viscount — you were familiar with Anthony, having been friends with Eloise for so long, but he never seemed to appreciate your presence. His annoyance simply made it all the more fun to tease him.

“No, Anthony,” Eloise answered, “but have you tried your own desk? It seems far more likely to be there than in the drawing room the day I have a visitor. You are not as sly as you think, brother.”

It was then he seemed to notice you, whether by design or truth. “If it isn’t Miss Worthing,” Anthony said as he breezed across the room, offering nothing more than a passing glance at you. “I must ask, are you ever seen on your own estate, or have you decided to permanently establish yourself here?”

“It is quite funny that you ask, Anthony,” you started with a smile. “I have started moving more and more of my possessions here with every visit to Eloise — I believe it will only be a month more until I am fully settled at the Bridgerton estate.”

He hummed, wholly unamused as he rustled through the contents of the drawer across from the two of you. “I think it best for you to remain on your own grounds, lest you never leave again. I also think it best you refer to me as Lord Bridgerton — we are hardly close enough to warrant anything less.”

“Brother,” Eloise sighed, rolling her eyes in apology as she glanced at you, “must you insult my closest friend? There is no need for formalities in our own time.”

“It is not an insult, Eloise,” Anthony insisted. “Your closest friend has just debuted — it would do her some good to learn proper manners before the season gets too far along.”

“Well, Lord Bridgerton,” you made sure to enunciate his title, which only served to earn you another unamused look, “I very much appreciate your concerns, but they are not needed. I do not intend to marry this season.”

“My advice should not be taken lightly.” Anthony made a triumphant noise as he found what he was looking for, the aforementioned quill, then turned his attention back to you. “I have been the man of the house for longer than you know, Miss Worthing, and I guided my sister through an extremely successful season. I consider myself an expert on such affairs; it would do you well to listen to someone else for once in your life.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Do correct me if I am mistaken, but I believe that the man Daphne chose to marry was the one suitor you were intent on keeping her away from. Wasn’t it once you finally stepped back for a moment, she truly began to flourish as the diamond?”

“You certainly have an interesting memory, Miss Worthing,” Anthony said, restraint clear in his voice. “I am sure that you attract many suitors acting like this.”

“I don’t attract many,” you confirmed with a smile, “which is rather fortunate, seeing as I don’t plan to marry.”

“As you’ve already said,” he noted. “An interesting plan, I admit. I cannot imagine your mother is too happy about it.”

“I cannot imagine why you would care so much about her prospects,” Eloise mused. “I would assume your hands are quite full with our family alone. You air your grievances enough just at the idea of my own debut.”

“It is because she is a bad influence on you, Eloise. Your debut has already been delayed once, and if you continue to spend time around her it will surely happen again.” Anthony then turned to you and gave you a pointed look. “In fact, I believe it is time for you to go, Miss Worthing, if you wish to make it back to your estate in time for Lady Danbury’s ball.”

“How kind of you to remind me,” you said dryly as you stood up from the couch. Eloise stood as well and the two of you embraced, and she placed her hands on your shoulders when you separated.

“I’ll see you tonight?” she asked, and she glanced back at Anthony. “My dearest friend, who is in no way a bad influence?”

You nodded with a laugh. “Of course. I wager I will need someone to accompany me as I find my true calling as a wallflower.”

“It would do you well to change your attitude,” Anthony interrupted, and you responded by rolling your eyes at Eloise as she stifled her own laugh. “You are hardly two and twenty, Miss Worthing. You should not want to throw away your potential so soon.”

“Once again, I appreciate your concerns, but your worries are unnecessary.” You raised an eyebrow. “If you are so intent on my becoming a true lady, perhaps you should take matters into your own hands and court me.”

“Ah, yes. My younger sister’s closest friend; the most desirable lady of the season.” Anthony gestured towards the door in lieu of explaining his sarcasm further. You just smiled.

“I will see you tonight, Eloise,” you repeated as you started walking. “I look forward to your latest conversation.”

“I am sure my material is far more interesting than any suitor you may happen across,” Eloise reassured. “Including Lord Cardew.”

“You may be my savior yet,” you grinned. As you reached the door you bowed your head to Eloise, and then turned to Anthony and lifted your skirts up in a slight curtsy. “Lord Bridgerton.”

“Miss Worthing,” he responded in kind, offering the same tight-lipped smile as always.

As Anthony closed the door behind you, Eloise fell back onto the sofa with an exasperated sigh. “Why do you treat her so, brother? Now that my dear Penelope has truly set off into society to find a match, she is the only one that shares my sentiments about our fates. I understand I might not be able to avoid it, but you should at least allow me this much.”

“She is nothing but trouble,” Anthony responded as he crossed his arms behind his back. “It is in her best interest to find a husband as soon as possible, and yet she resists it with all her might. I should only imagine the kinds of things she is putting into your mind. Are you aware that she has been spotted in the heart of London attending rallies more boisterous than even you could handle?”

“Truly?” she asked, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. “Oh, I must insist she bring me to her next one!”

“That is not my—” Anthony rubbed his forehead with a sigh. “You are just as impossible as her, are you aware?”

Eloise grinned. “Now that is a compliment.”

Lady Danbury’s ball was shaping up to be as dreadful as you had imagined.

Your initial plans of blending in with the wallpaper as you watched from afar and enjoyed the music were foiled almost as soon as you had arrived — you faulted the gems embedded into your dress, insisted upon by your mother — for no sooner had you stepped foot into the main hall did the baron approach you.

“Lady Worthing, Miss Worthing,” he greeted with a slight bow, and he eyed you with a smile. “How wonderful to see the two of you here — especially you, my dear. May I say how ravishing you look in that gown?”

“You may not—” you began to say, but your mother cut you off with a very unladylike jab to your side, though masterfully disguised in her usual fashion.

“Thank you, Lord Cardew,” she said. “I apologize for my daughter; she is simply caught up in all the emotions she has been experiencing since her debut. She means no disrespect.”

“I understand, my lady. Rest assured, I do not mind.” Lord Cardew extended a hand toward you, and your entire body stiffened. “Might I raise your spirits with a dance?”

“I apologize, my lord,” you said emphatically. “My dance card is full.”

Your mother forced out a bright laugh as she grasped your arm; it seemed you were already getting to her. “That certainly is funny, my dear! But of course, your card cannot be full as we have just arrived, and one does not refuse a baron in such a way.”

You opened your mouth to protest once more but she leaned into your side and muttered into your ear. “Just one dance with him. The sooner you do it, the sooner it will be over.”

The thought of your time spent within a yard of the baron being over as soon as possible was certainly an appealing notion, enough so that you plastered on a smile and took Lord Cardew’s hand.

“I would be… honored to dance with you, my lord.” You had to force the words out, but he seemed none the wiser as his smile widened and he led you onto the floor.

“I have had my eye on you for quite a long time, my lady,” he said as the two of you took your positions and seamlessly joined in with the flow of the other dancers. “You were a sure sight during your debut — truly, none of the other ladies hold even the slightest candle to you.”

“You flatter me, Lord Cardew.” You grimaced as his hand inched further down your waist and you glanced over at the orchestra, as if hoping the desperation in your eyes alone would be enough for them to cut the waltz short. Unfortunately, your silent plea achieved nothing.

“I must admit, it is a surprise you have only just now entered society,” he said. You noticed your mother smiling at you in the group of many spectators, and you glared at her as best you could in the time the baron was looking away from you. The second his attention turned to you once more, that practiced smile was back in place. “Whyever did it take so long?”

“I am afraid it is a private matter, my lord,” you said as politely as you could, but he shook his head.

“You needn’t hold your tongue around me, dear,” he said as he spun you out and then took you back in, your entire body stiffening as he pulled you far closer than what was appropriate. “You do not extend the notion to any other member of the ton, so I do not see why it should apply to me.”

“My mother simply decided to give me a few more years of respite,” you lied. “It is only this year that she decided she could not delay my debut any longer, so alas, I am here.”

“And the season is made that much better by your presence, my lady.” Lord Cardew offered a smile and you were only able to manage one so thin it hardly qualified as a smile. But your invisible pleas must have done something because the waltz began to play to a close, and you had to hold back your breath of relief as you both bowed to each other.

“Thank you for the dance and your… myriad of compliments, Lord Cardew,” you said as you straightened again.

“It would do you good to get used to them,” he said with a smile, “for they will extend all throughout this courtship and our betrothal — you may have to work harder for them in marriage.”

Your world stopped spinning on his axis as your entire body stiffened, frozen to the spot.

“I am sorry?” you breathed, your eyes surely as wide as dinner plates as you attempted to process his words.

“Compliments may be genuine, but they are also a ploy,” he said. “Without them, how does a man expect to claim a woman? Of course, after marriage a man does not have to fight for her affections anymore, so they—”

“I am not talking about your… views,” you interrupted sharply. “I was not aware of any engagement.”

“Miss Worthing,” Lord Cardew sighed, his tone nothing less than patronizing, “it is obvious even to the most oblivious that your family is in need of whatever they can get — after our dance at the debutante ball, your father approached me and all but begged me to take your hand. Of course, I prefer to enjoy the process through a bit of courting, but rest assured, it will end in a proposal.”

That was the shattering point. You had always known that your future hardly lay in your hands despite all your attempts to move it there, but you’d not expected your father to so easily yield— no, not yield, beg— to a man like the one that stood in front of you.

You felt the rate of your heart speed up as your breathing fell shallow, and you knew you would not last another second in the middle of it all.

“Excuse me, my lord.” You extracted your hand from his grasp, thankful for the barrier of your gloves however thin it may have been, and offered what you hoped was a convincing smile over the anxieties running rampant below the surface. “I find myself quite parched after our dance — I shall return soon after fetching a glass of lemonade.”

Before the baron could protest you turned on your heel and set off towards the refreshment table. You poured the liquid from the pitcher into your glass with shaking hands, eyeing the baron out of your peripherals once you finished. The moment his attention moved away from you, you set your glass down and hurried off, easily dissolving into the crowd from years of practice. You glanced over your shoulder once more to ensure you were not being followed before you ducked around the corner. The second you were out of sight you picked up your skirts and ran, every step away from the main hall reducing the weight on your shoulders.

If this was to be the model for the rest of the season, you were sure that you would not survive it — you would not even survive another second in Lord Cardew’s presence.

You nodded your thanks to the servants as they opened the outside doors to you, and you sucked in a large breath of fresh air once you reached the gardens. Thankfully, the nobles here numbered few — enough for you to remain proper being there on your own while still allowing yourself time to recover from what your parents wanted to be the start of the rest of your life.

You leaned against the wall, the night breeze cooling your flushed cheeks. You hadn’t the slightest clue how you were supposed to get out of anything involved Lord Cardew, especially the inevitable proposal — no matter the number of your denials, it was just a nicety; the second he tired of your stubbornness, he would go over your head to your mother or father and trap you in a marriage you would spend the rest of your life resenting.

You cursed underneath your breath as you allowed yourself a moment to look out over the gardens. If only he were not a baron — then he would be any other common suitor, one that would be no closer to royalty than you and therefore requiring no special treatment.

It was then that your gaze caught hold of a certain viscount, standing around idly amongst the small groups of people with a flute of champagne in his hand.

It was no surprise to see Anthony away from the party — his infamy did not come from his eagerness to participate in the season — but you did smile a bit at it all. He was doing the exact same thing you were, running away from responsibility; he just had the added benefit of alcohol. Maybe the two of you shared more similarities than you thought.

Your eyes suddenly widened.

Perhaps there was a way to get out of your predicament.

You hitched your skirt up yet again and all but ran over to the viscount, and his eyebrows rose as you approached.

“Miss Worthing?” he greeted with a hint of confusion, though he didn’t get the chance to continue.

“Anthony,” you breathed, coming to a stop in front of him as you loosened your grip on your skirt, “I am in dire need of your assistance.”

“Lord—“ he began to correct almost instinctively, but you shook your head.

“I’ve no time for a lecture,” you interrupted. “I need you to court me.”

He looked so utterly dumbfounded that if your social life wasn’t in the hanging you would have laughed. “Excuse me?”

“I need you to court me,” you repeated. “Right now.”

Anthony frowned. “My lady, are you feeling alright?”

“No,” you responded curtly, “no, I am not alright, seeing as the one man that my mother seems intent on me marrying is the single most despicable man in all the world. There is no possible way for me to get out of it alone, which is why I need your assistance.”

He looked completely vexed, so many emotions warring on his face that you could hardly pick out one from the bunch. “I apologize for your predicament, but what could I possibly have to do with this?”

“My mother is so intent on the union because he is a baron, and she is fully convinced that all of our problems will go away when I become a baroness alongside him. Because a man of such rank is interested in me, she will not be satisfied with anything less. But you—” you gestured towards him with your hand, a smile blooming on your face, “—you are a viscount. You are more, not less, and if I am thought to become a viscountess myself, then both my mother and every other suitor, especially Lord Cardew, will finally leave me be.”

“Now I am even more convinced you have fallen ill,” Anthony muttered. “May I, if no one else has, inform you of how ill-advised a plan like this is?” He shook his head, that incredulous expression still on his face. “Even if it wasn’t, this is coming out of the blue — I do not want to marry you, my lady.”

“Nor I you!” you exclaimed. “You’ve as little desire as I to be bound in a marriage; what better option than pretending to have eyes for each other to avoid a true commitment? At the end of the season, we will stage an argument after we’ve realized that we cannot continue into a union with each other, because I find you completely infuriating and you realize that I am simply far too good for you—”

“Excuse me?”

You ignored him as you continued on your tirade. “You will no longer be courting me then — you will be free to delay your search for yet another season, and I will be free to live the life of a spinster.”

Anthony frowned once more; you feared if he continued like this in your conversations, his brow would be permanently furrowed. “I was not aware that was a desirable status for a woman like yourself.”

“Well, perhaps not the title, but the life…” You sighed dreamily, allowing yourself to gaze off for a moment before looking back to Anthony. “An unmarried life would allow me the freedom I have always dreamed of. All I require is your fake courtship for one season, just one, and I will be able to find the rest of the way on my own.”

Anthony was silent for a beat before he sighed. “I sympathize with your plight, Miss Worthing — it is one that Eloise finds herself in as well — but there is little I can do for you. This is not a matter I should be involved in; it is a conversation much better suited for your own family.”

“Do you believe that I have not tried?” you bemoaned, gesturing with exasperated motions. “The life that I want is one that you could have for yourself at any time. If you ever tire of society and decide you no longer want to be the man of the house, you could up and leave and no one would hear from Anthony Bridgerton again. You have seven siblings to leave in your wake, all there to pick up after you should you go. But for me — the sole daughter, the sole child of the Worthing family — I will never be able to have that life. Not without more sacrifice than I alone am able to give.”

Anthony opened his mouth to respond, but all he did was stare at you with unwavering eyes, the silence in between the two of you weighing heavily in the air.

You screwed your eyes shut as you heard your name called in a familiarly unwanted voice, and with a shaky breath you opened them and looked at Anthony. The saccharine sweet smile you offered him was undercut by the pure desperation in your eyes as you lowered your voice to a whisper. “You’re out of time, my lord.”

Just as the words left your mouth the man you’d been trying to avoid turned the corner, and you took in and let out a deep breath in preparation as you inched closer to Anthony.

“Miss Worthing!” the baron exclaimed as he came to a stop in front of you, and you had to hold back a grimace at his bow.

“Lord Cardew,” you greeted, latching onto Anthony’s arm as quickly as you could. Though Anthony stiffened at your touch, he allowed it. “I admit, I was not expecting you tonight.”

“You have been a tricky one to find, my lady. You all but disappeared after our dance.” The lord’s smile quickly faded as Anthony cleared his throat next to you, and in a move that surprised you, pulled you closer to him.

“Have you considered that it was by design?” he asked curtly, and you had to hold back your shock. “Miss Worthing is quite busy at the moment.”

“Is that so?” Lord Cardew folded his arms behind his back, his expression unreadable. “Bridgerton, surely you are not suggesting—”

“That he is courting me?” you interrupted with a slight smile. “It is more than a suggestion, my lord — it is the truth. I’m sorry to say that I am quite occupied; for the rest of the season, might I add.”

The lord carefully controlled his surprise, the emotion only betrayed by the slightest raise of his brow as he looked at Anthony. “This is quite prominent news — such official courting, and so early on in the season? I had not heard even a word of it until just now.”

“It is the truth, Cardew,” Anthony answered, “I assure you. It is high time I’ve found a wife, and I believe there could be none better than Miss Worthing.”

“How interesting,” he noted tersely, his eyes set on you as he spoke. “It is a disappointment you lose your eligibility so soon, my lady. Though perhaps there is still time for your head to be turned for a more… suitable match.”

“You dare to question Miss Worthing’s honor?” Anthony pressed, and he pulled you closer to him ever so slightly. “I will not have a man such as yourself setting his eyes upon my future wife and insulting her so.”

Lord Cardew set his jaw before he bowed his head reluctantly to both you and Anthony. “My sincerest apologies, Bridgerton—”

“Lord Bridgerton,” Anthony interrupted, and once again you had to bite back your smile at the baron’s visible frustration.

“...My sincerest apologies, Lord Bridgerton,” he corrected, but Anthony tutted.

“I believe you owe an apology to the lady as well.”

“Do not test me,” Lord Cardew snapped. “And do not think I will give up so easily on account of your ridiculous claim.”

“Watch yourself, Cardew,” Anthony warned. “Should it come down to it, you do not want an enemy in me.”

Lord Cardew glowered at Anthony for so long the tension could be felt in the air, until he finally released his anger in a huff and stormed off in a way unbecoming of a gentleman. With every step he took away from you, the more the weight on your shoulders dissolved.

“That is the man your mother wants you to marry?” Anthony marveled.

You nodded as you smoothed your dress down and let out a haggard breath. “It is a rather damning fate, is it not?”

“Indeed,” he murmured, his own gaze fixed in the distance from where Lord Cardew left. “I suppose it is fortunate you have another suitor.”

“It is,” you agreed. “Though I must admit, I did not expect you to go along with me.”

“It was just as much of a surprise to me,” Anthony admitted, and when you turned to him he still seemed slightly shocked.

“Then I am all the more thankful for it. You have no idea how much you have just saved me.”

“I cannot believe what you have dragged me into,” Anthony lamented, and as he extracted his arm from your grasp you took a few steps away from him.

“Do not worry,” you reassured. “I promise, it is nothing but a ruse — just to keep that awful man away from me until he finds a match in a lady that is not me.”

“And how long will that take?

“I haven’t the slightest,” you offered with a tight smile, “but I pray it will be soon.”

Anthony let out a loose sigh as he rubbed his forehead. “This is going to be a very long season.”

“Indeed it will be.” You cleared your throat and took a moment to readjust the neckline of your dress before offering your hand to Anthony. “Now. Shall we indulge the ton with a dance to close out their night and give them something worthwhile to gossip about?”

“I believe I am the one meant to offer you my hand,” he noted.

You shrugged. “I suppose I am already preparing for my freedom outside of society.”

Anthony stared at you for a moment before his lips quirked up. “You certainly waste no time.”

“One must be efficient if they wish to get anything out of life.” You extended your hand further, your own smile blooming.

“I agree.” Anthony took your hand and placed it on the crook of his elbow. “Shall we?”

You nodded. “We shall.”

—

Lady Danbury’s ball had been the place of endless gossip after your first dance with Anthony — you now understood how he felt during the social season, for you were now, along with him, the talk of the ton, the center of attention from dozens of miffed mothers. To them, you were the childish, thankless, pathetic excuse for a lady that had taken away their daughter’s chance at viscountess. You had to admit, you did not at all enjoy the spotlight, and on your third dance you’d started to wonder if this truly was the best option — for both your sanity and your feet.

After all you had committed yourself to in the night before, you had been looking forward to at least sleeping soundly once you retired for the evening. And though you had been granted the relief, it was taken away far too early.

The steps of your lady’s maid alerted you to her presence even before she threw the drapes open, sunlight immediately filtering into your room.

“Julia,” you groaned as you covered your eyes from the fresh rays with your arm, “you know I adore you, but I do not know how much longer I can handle these early wakings.”

“My sincerest apologies miss, but your mother insisted upon it.”

That was the quickest way to get your attention. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and when you looked up, you were, true to Julia’s word, greeted with your mother.

“What are you doing here so early?” you mumbled, turning onto your side and burying your head in your pillows to avoid the sun. “I don’t have any arrangements planned.”

“The newest edition of Whistledown came this morning,” she explained, walking over to sit down on the side of your bed. “And my dear, you must read it.”

You groaned once more, reluctantly turning over and sitting up as your mother offered you the pamphlet.

Dearest Reader,

Is there anything as exciting as the beginning of a brand new season? The ton comes to life once more, with frantic mamas and earnest debutantes all finishing last minute preparations in the hopes that they will be crowned the season’s diamond. I certainly know it is a modiste’s favorite time of year.

You raised an eyebrow at her. “This is truly thrilling news, mother.”

She hit your elbow lightly and pointed towards the end of the edition. “Skip here.”

I had not anticipated delivering this news so early on in the season, nor ever, if I am being truthful, but I do admit it excites me. It appears as though two of the most stubborn heads to set foot in London have found solace in each other, in a move that not even I expected.

The rumors are indeed true: The Viscount Bridgerton has finally commenced his search for a wife after years of rakedom, and his choice in courtship is none other than Miss Y/N Worthing. Both are known for their outspoken views against marriage, but maybe it is the common dissatisfaction that has brought the pair together. Whatever the reason, they are sure to shake up England together.

I am ever looking forward to how this courting will end, so fret not; every step of this unusual union will be uncovered. Oh, gentlest reader, I only hope you are just as intrigued as I.

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown.

You hummed, unenthused as you handed the leaflet back to her. “I’m in Whistledown.”

“Unbelievable,” your mother said with a shake of her head, and you closed your eyes as you let your head fall back against the pillows. “This is huge, darling!”

“Really, mother?” you sighed. “You pay no mind to any of my other accomplishments, but getting mentioned by Lady Whistledown is worth your attention. I do not understand it.”

“It is not Lady Whistledown I am concerned with,” your mother admonished with a glance in your direction, “you know that. It is the fact that you are being courted by Anthony Bridgerton! My darling, you are to be a Bridgerton! Oh, I am so proud of you!”

How ironic, you thought, that the one thing your mother is proud of you for is something that is not even real. It truly is just your luck.

“Yes,” you responded idly, “it is quite exciting. But there is no guarantee that I will be a Bridgerton, mother. All the viscount did was request a dance, and all I did was indulge him. It can hardly even be considered courting.”

She sighed, immensely exasperated. “One does not simply dance with an eligible lady as a bachelor if one does not intend on courtship. Have I not taught you anything?”

“On the contrary, I argue that you have taught me far too much.” You fixed her with a pointed look. “I should think there is no room left for anything of actual importance after all the meaningless dances and instruments you have forced me to learn.”

“I understand you are not a fan of quadrilles, but do not lie to me and say that you do not enjoy the violin.” Her lips quirked up in amusement, and you could see in her eyes she was going back to it. “That was a particularly interesting summer, when you decided to try your hand at as many instruments as you could find.”

You chuckled. “Well, if we couldn’t afford a teacher, I was going to try as many as possible to see what clicked. I just did not anticipate enjoying all of them so much.”

Your mother smiled at you, and you were reminded of how fond you were of her company when marriage wasn’t on her mind. “You are certainly more gifted than me at the pianoforte — I was a complete wreck. My voice was my saving grace.”

You laughed again with a knowing nod — your mother accompanied you more times than you could remember with her singing, steadfast through every single instrument you insisted on learning. But your thoughts were interrupted with a yawn, and you covered your mouth with the palm of your hand, giving your mother a soft smile once it passed.

“As much as I am enjoying these memories, I must admit I am exhausted,” you said as you leaned back against your pillows. “And your early rising for the sake of Whistledown has not helped.”

“Darling,” your mother sighed. “Ladies start their day bright and early — now that you have debuted, you do not get to laze around all morning and read all day. You have duties you must attend to.”

“I do not have any engagements today!” you protested. “If you so approve of the viscount courting me, I am in need of my rest to deal with him. He is quite a handful.”

Before your mother could respond, another maid poked her head in through the open door. “Excuse me, misses — forgive me for the interruption, but Miss Worthing has a caller. He is waiting in the drawing room.”

Your mother’s eyes widened with excitement as she stood up from your bed, satisfaction underneath her smile. “You do have an engagement, my dear, and I cannot wait to see who. Maybe it is the viscount himself!” She squeezed her hands together, her smile growing larger by the second. “Oh, how exciting!”

Before she exited your room she looked at your lady’s maid. “Julia, will you assist her in getting ready? I do not trust her judgment on such an important matter.”

“Of course, my lady,” she nodded, and you blew out a loose sigh as your mother closed the door behind her.

If this truly was Anthony, you needed to ensure any future meetings were set at a much later hour. Elsewise, you would not survive this courtship either.

—

“So,” Julia couldn’t help the smile on her lips as she laced up your corset, meeting your eyes in the mirror, “you must explain to me how you have gone from an avid hater of marriage to being courted by Anthony Bridgerton, of all men! I believe we have stood in this exact same position before, only with the topic of conversation being his latest outrageous act by word of Miss Eloise rather than his courtship of you.”

You sighed, shivering slightly as her cold fingers brushed over your shoulder, and shook your head. “I do not even think I can give you an answer to that, Jules. It certainly is… something.”

She chuckled and began to help you into the dress she had selected, the light blue fabric embroidered with white thread designs hanging off of your build in a simple but flattering way. “Whatever the reason may be, I hope you know I am proud of you. I know it is not easy to embark on a journey like this, especially one you have been so firm in denying, but I have the utmost faith that you will succeed. You are doing a great service to your family.”

You opened your mouth to say something but she interrupted you with that slight smile again. “And before you claim the opposite, know that I have always been proud of you, not just in your social season. You have blossomed into a truly wonderful lady, and that will not change whether or not you gain the weight of a ring on your finger.”

Your lips quirked up into a small smile of your own as Julia laid a locket around your neck, letting your hair go once she clasped the two ends together. “What would I do without you?”

“Most likely find another much less willing servant to rant to,” she joked. “But you needn’t worry — I am not going anywhere.”

“And for that, I am eternally thankful,” you said, “though I do not think I am granted the same fate.”

Julia smiled and smoothed out the sleeves of your dress before she turned you around, that steadfast confidence in her eyes that you knew so well helping to calm your nerves. “You will do just fine, my lady. Anthony Bridgerton is only above you in title and nothing else — I have the utmost faith that you can handle him.”

You had no worries about handling him — your troubles lay more in the fact that your arrangement was nothing more than an illusion. Anthony was not particularly known for his patience, and though you had an agreement, your fears were anchored in the true reliability of your fake beau. It was not at all out of the realm of possibility for the viscount to reach his limit and ruin this entire thing for the both of you.

Though you often aired your troubles to your lady’s maid, you could not do that now— not when your troubles were of such a sort. So instead you merely took a deep breath as you smoothed out your skirt and adjusted the neckline of your dress.

“Indeed. Now,” you turned to face her with a smile, “shall we?”

You trailed through the hallways of your estate with Julia by your side, trying not to show too much of your disdain. Anthony’s courtship of you did not mean you had to act the part of a doting lady, but it did mean your civility was required.

Of course, a small part of you hoped that it was not Anthony who sat in your drawing room. The amiability required by his courtship was not necessary for a normal suitor — at least if another man was your caller, you needn’t hold your tongue.

Your hopes were dashed the moment you stepped inside the open doors of your drawing room, trying your best to keep a straight face at the sight of the viscount. He did not share your feelings, made obvious by the smile that bloomed on his lips as he stood up from the couch.

“Ah, Miss Worthing!” he greeted. “I was wondering when you would show.”

You responded with a tight smile of your own. “When one shows up unannounced, he should expect delays. In fact, he should consider himself lucky for even earning an audience.”

Your mother laughed uncomfortably as she stood up from her chair, guiding you over to Anthony with an arm on your shoulder.

“Forgive my daughter, Viscount Bridgerton, please,” she said with the voice of an exasperated mother. “It is still early, and she has not yet broken her fast — she is slightly irritable.”

“It is of no worry, Lady Worthing,” he reassured, and Anthony sat down with you. “I hope I was not an imposition.”

“You—”

“—Are not at all!” Your mother interrupted once again before you could say he most certainly was. She settled in her chair and picked up her embroidery hoop once more, offering a pleasant smile to the two of you. “Please, feel free to converse as if I am not even here.”

You offered her a tight, mocking smile as you turned to Anthony, lowering your voice so as to keep your insults private.

“You are a cruel man,” you muttered, glancing at your mother out of the corner of your eye to ensure she could not hear your true words. “This was not how I hoped our partnership would begin.”

“However so?” Anthony asked, tilting his head to the side slightly. He was clearly enjoying your pain, of which he was the cause. It was truly irritating. “If I recall correctly, this entire affair was your idea.”

“Showing up as an unannounced caller, and at this hour nonetheless?” You shook your head. “This arrangement is meant to be equally beneficial. I cannot benefit if I am forced to bear constant early wakings.”

“I am an early riser, my lady,” he said, and you could not figure out whether or not his austerity was genuine. “And I have long held the belief that the morning is the best time to achieve anything, when one’s mind is at its most alert.”

“Your ‘alert mind’ is doing you no good if you are unable to see the effect this has on me,” you said, glaring very pointedly at him as you lowered your voice even more. “This is a fake courtship. None of this is necessary.”

“I see it very clearly. I figured putting up with my own sudden visits could be your payment in return for springing something like this on me at the last possible moment,” Anthony said. ”As you know, I am a man of honor, a gentleman at that— if you want anyone to believe this, you will have to deal with my actions.”

“You could have refused,” you pointed out.

“I should hope you do not see me as horrid enough to allow that man to actually court you,” Anthony countered with a slight frown.

“Daphne’s season spells out something entirely different.”

“You are aware of how much longer this arrangement will seem if you insist on arguing your way through it,” he said dryly.

“It is in my nature,” you responded with a smile. “It is how I’ve managed to avoid suitors thus far.”

He hummed. “Perhaps I should have been taking tips from you long before this season. No matter how often I expressed my intentions to stay unmarried, countless mothers continued to all but throw their daughters at me. It’s not enjoyable in the slightest.”

“Imagine how the young ladies feel,” you mused. “Being forced to try their hand at you knowing you fully despise them.”

Anthony raised an eyebrow. “Is that not what any suitor considering you must deal with?”

Your nose crinkled at the idea. “I… suppose you are indeed correct.”

“I often am,” he responded, his smugness not lost on you.

Your gaze flitted away from him for a moment before an idea popped into your head. Thus far, it seemed that this fake courtship between you and Viscount Bridgerton would be a test of who could irritate the other the most without breaking the illusion you were creating.

Two could certainly play at that game.

“Why yes, my lord!” you exclaimed, purposefully raising your voice so that your conversation could now be heard. In your peripherals you saw your mother look up from her embroidery hoop as well as Anthony’s sudden frown, and you could hardly hold back your smile. “I would love to visit the marketplace with you. How kind of you to notice that I am in need of a new reticule.”

Your scheme quickly dawned on him, but beyond the slightest crease of his eyebrows there was no sign of the distaste surely brewing underneath the surface.

“The marketplace?” You turned as your mother spoke, a satisfied smile on her lips. “That sounds like a lovely idea, Lord Bridgerton. Thank you immensely for your kindness.”

“Of course,” he replied easily, and after he stood up himself he offered a hand to you. You stood up without it, causing only an amused expression to flit across Anthony’s face as he looked over at your mother. “Should you like to accompany us?”

“Oh, no.” She brushed it off with her hand as she beamed at you. “I do not want to intrude on the new lovers. Julia, would you please chaperone them?”

Your lady’s maid nodded with a smile. “Of course, my lady.”

Anthony offered his arm to you, and this time you took it, albeit very begrudgingly. “Do you hear that?” he muttered with obvious amusement, leaning to speak into your ear as the two of you walked out. “We are new lovers.”

“You could at least act as if you are not enjoying this,” you whispered back.

“Oh, but I am,” he smiled. “And you should be as well! This was your idea, and yet you are already completely miserable. What were you thinking when you proposed this to me?”

You huffed. “I was thinking the man that has avoided marriage for his entire life would not be so insistent on conducting a real courtship.”

Anthony simply chuckled. “Then it appears you still have much to learn about me.”

The fresh air of the London streets helped in clearing your mind as you strolled through the marketplace, despite the fact that you were arm in arm with Anthony Bridgerton. It did bring you some satisfaction to know that you had at least dealt yourself into the fold with this outing, but you had a feeling Anthony could play this game far better than you.

After all, a man did not become the head of his household and prepare his myriad of siblings for their respective seasons without picking up some skills of his own, even if he has not yet chosen a wife — especially if he was without a wife, it seemed, as Anthony had all the charm and knowledge of how to seduce a lady and yet none of the results. You surmised that was just the way he liked it.

If anything, this was just as much of a game to him as it was to you. Some way to make himself feel like even more of a gentleman while avoiding the ton and having a bit of fun all the same.

“My lady, did you hear me?”

You blinked a few times as you looked to Anthony, shaking your head. “Apologies. My thoughts are much more interesting than you.”

He chuckled. “You wound me so, Miss Worthing. However am I to cope knowing the woman I am courting does not see me the same way?”

“Do you always act like this?” you questioned. “Because if that is the case, it is certainly no wonder you have not found a wife. You are far too irritating for any lady to possibly stand.”

“Did you choose me for your task simply to ridicule me?” Anthony asked instead. “Although I admit I enjoy your company, Miss Worthing, I am not sure if I can handle an entire season of insults.”

“You have seven siblings,” you said. “You have handled fifteen years of insults.”

“Ah, but they are all the more scathing coming from you.” You chuckled a bit at his words, and Anthony continued. “But truly, what was your reason for choosing me over any other man?”

“I chose you because of your title,” you said simply.

“There must be other viscounts or earls for you to rope into this scheme,” Anthony said, “other men that do not annoy you half as much as I.”

You smiled a bit. “Truth be told, you are the only one I am acquainted with that is of higher ranking than the baron. Even if I knew others, the plan only came to mind when I saw you out in the gardens last night, and you are the only one that I could think of that would even entertain my offer.”

Anthony hummed in acknowledgment. “It is rather fortunate I was there, then— it will be a welcome reprieve for the season, not having to deal with mamas throwing their daughters at me left and right.”

“See?” you said. “It was purposeful on my part. Mutually beneficial, just as I told you.”

He chuckled, and you smiled. The two of you continued to walk idly through the marketplace, his attention lingering on each stall for a few seconds before passing to the next. The silence between the two of you was surprisingly comfortable, especially with the ambiance of the city you so enjoyed, which is why the question that came out surprised you just as much as him.

“Why did you choose me?”

Anthony gave you a curious look. “I’m afraid you have to be more specific, my lady.”

“By agreeing to this ruse, you chose me, just as I chose you,” you said. “Why would you do such a thing when you are not yet officially looking for a wife?”

“…I suppose your words struck me,” he responded. “Your position is not one of envy— the sole heir to a family in need, put on a pedestal to a horde of suitors that you don’t desire in the slightest. I am in a similar position, having to marry for the good of my family, but you are correct. The level of scrutiny I face is nowhere near the amount you must put up with, and the idea of you marrying…” Anthony grimaced, “that sorry excuse for a man? No one with good conscience could deny you.”

“So you accepted because of sympathy,” you said.

He chuckled. “Perhaps. Would you rather I outright denied you?”

You smiled yourself as you shrugged. “No. I just enjoy questioning everything you do.”

Anthony shook his head, though he was clearly amused. “Perhaps we should continue this courtship for real— you already bother me as much as a true wife.”

And at that, you laughed aloud. “And you irritate me as much as a true husband.” You glanced behind you to see your lady’s maid walking a distance behind you, pretending not to listen but very obviously eavesdropping.

Anthony glanced back as well and looked at you, catching onto it. “Will she be a problem?”

“Julia?” you asked, and when he nodded you laughed again. “Spare no mind — she has been one of my closest confidantes, and I hers, for as long as I can remember. Should she overhear anything, she will not repeat it.”

“You are close with your lady’s maid?” Anthony asked, and you frowned.

“Are you not acquainted with your manservants?”

“No,” he said, “they are simply servants. I’m friendly with them of course, but certainly not close. Not to the level of sharing secrets.”

“I cannot imagine that,” you sighed. “We employed her three years ago, and since then she has become one of my best friends. Julia knows some of my closest secrets— not having such a bond with the person who spends so much time with you is nearly impossible in my eyes.”

Anthony went silent, and when you looked over you saw him staring at you with an odd look in his eyes.

“What?” you asked, and he shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said, and then he stopped you in front of a market stall that was selling coin purses and reticules. “Should we complete the task we embarked on this journey for?”

You wanted to push him on the subject of his thoughts, but you decided not to as you gave him a smile instead. “So formal, my lord. But I suppose it cannot hurt.”

Anthony picked up a light blue reticule, the white embroidered floral pattern particularly catching your eye. “This one rather suits you, I think. It matches your gown.”

“You’ve got quite an eye!” you exclaimed, taking it from him and holding it up to your dress. You weren’t one to indulge in luxuries such as mindless shopping — you couldn’t quite afford it, to be truthful — but… it did compliment your outfit, and it was a lovely purse.

But you did not even have a chance to deliberate any further, as Anthony was already talking with the merchant. Before you knew it he was thanking her and handing over coin, and you raised your eyebrows at him.

“What?” he said, having the gall to not even look ashamed. “You did say you were in need of a new reticule.”

You opened your mouth to protest, tell him that you could not afford to waste money on trivial things such as purses out of instinct, but you realized you did not have to. It was the Bridgerton’s coin, and they were far more affluent than your family— with seven children, they had to be.

And if it was on the Bridgerton’s coin, did it really matter? Would you not be expected to accept gifts from the gentleman courting you?

“...Thank you,” you finally said, and you beckoned Julia over.

“What do you think?” you asked as she stopped next to you, holding it up in front of you to model it. “Does the viscount have a better eye for fashion than I thought?”

Julia grinned. “It is as lovely as you, my lady. The color compliments you perfectly.”

“You flatter me so,” you said with a smile.

“I only tell the truth, Y/N,” she insisted, and you chuckled. “If I may, I’m in need of a few items— do you mind if I wander for a bit?”

“Of course,” you nodded. “Would you like us to wait for you?”

Julia shook her head. “I know the way by heart; I will be fine. Enjoy your time with the viscount.”

She winked at you as she walked past, and you couldn’t stifle your laugh as you rolled your eyes. She would be the death of you, you were certain.

“Shall we, then?” Anthony offered his arm to you, and you nodded as you took it. The two of you began to walk again, the conversation picking up once more.

“Your workers call you by your name?” he asked, and you raised your eyebrows.

“Not all of us are viscounts of important families, Anthony,” you said. “I do not see the need for someone I regard as closely as a sister to call me by a title I’ve no use for. Many would certainly argue I am in no way a lady.”

“If your family is viewed in such a way, then why not try to change their opinion? Why not marry a man of higher standing, bring the Worthing name up with you, and prove the ton wrong?”

“I’ve no need for you to impart your wisdom upon me, Lord Bridgerton,” you chuckled. “In terms of high society, yes, my family is wildly poor. But if we were to just exit the ton, live a normal life in middle class sections of the city, or even move to the country where we can have an even simpler existence, then all of our problems would be solved.” You sighed deeply. “But I do not think my parents will ever choose to do so. I’ve no idea why they are so set on us remaining in Mayfair.”

“You used my title,” Anthony mused, the statement coming out of nowhere after a weighted moment of silence. “Was a walk together all it took for you to find it in yourself a modicum of respect?”

You let out a laugh and looked at him with mirth twinkling in your eyes. “If this walk somehow earned you my respect, then the clarification of it has certainly lost it. Besides; I thought it quite obvious I was merely joking.”

“The more time I spend with you, the more I think that half the insults towards me in Eloise’s repertoire have in fact come from you.” Anthony gave you a pointed look. “Have you anything at all to say about turning my sister against me?”

You shrugged. “I cannot be blamed for Eloise’s own creativity. However she chooses to express it is out of my control.”

Anthony chuckled and glanced away for a moment, before a surprisingly soft gaze found its way to you.

“You are much more than I expected.” He did not say it with disdain, rather an unexpected lightness. Maybe the viscount was not the way that you expected either, with walls surrounding his emotions impenetrable even by the queen’s army and a mind set only on business matters. Maybe it was possible that Anthony Bridgerton truly had a heart.

But you could not tell him that you were already beginning to see him in a different light — no, that would mark you as the loser of this game you’d started. You were quite good at irritating others, Anthony included, as you’d realized after years of friendship with Eloise. It could not be too difficult to continue it under the guise of a courtship.

So instead you shrugged, an amused smile on your lips. “Perhaps there is still much for you to learn of me.”

And in that moment, looking into Anthony’s eyes, you would’ve given anything to hear his thoughts. But you could not, and so when he smiled back at you, it was merely a smile.

“Perhaps there is," he said.

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz @masteroperator

bridgerton tags: @theonewithallthemilkshakes @milkiane

anthony bridgerton tags: @gwenebear @lurkymurker @likeballet @tommymcartney

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fic #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton fanfic #x reader #bridgerton imagine #sadie writes

1K notes · View notes

specialagentlokitty · 4 months

Text

Giles x reader - happily married

Would you be up for a Giles married to reader who happens to be buffys aunt? - @sitkafay 💜

It had been a while since you had been in town, you had been away on work and all you wanted to do was go home, find your husband and go to sleep.

So, when you walked through the door of the house you set your bags down and looked around.

“Rupert?” You called.

You waited for an answer but there was none, so you grabbed your bags and took them upstairs, not even bothering to unpack them, all you did was go back down the stairs to put your jacket on the hook and made your way back upstairs.

You collapsed on the bed and let the jet lag take you to a much needed world of sleep, though it didn’t last as long as you hoped.

The door was thrown open, and you could hear the voices of people down the stairs.

“Giles?!” They called.

You furrowed your brows and grumbled a little, pulling the blanket of your head.

“Giles we need help!”

You pulled the blanket down, jumped out of bed at the sound of the voice.

Making your way to the stairs you walked halfway down them and looked at the small group of young adults standing in the living room.

“Well, look who we have here.” You grinned.

They all turned around and you grinned a little, making your way down the stairs.

“(Y/N)!”

Buffy wasted no time in running over crush you into a hug which you were more than happy to respond to.

You hugged her tightly, a smile on your face and you pulled away.

“My god Buffy, it’s been years since I saw you last, you’ve grown so much.”

She smiled.

“And you’ve gotten older.”

You playfully glared at you, and she grabbed your hand to lead you over to her friends and you smiled warmly at them all.

“Guys, this is my aunt (Y/N). You remember the one who was always travelling for work?”

Buffy then turned to you.

“(Y/N) this is Xander, Tara, Anya, Willow and that’s spike. We don’t like spike.”

You looked at the man who was eyeing you up down with a little grin on his face.

He went to step forward and was pushed back by Xander and he went to glare.

“Can’t a guy say hello now? Bloody unreasonable.” He grumbled.

“Not when it’s Buffy’s aunt you can’t, in fact you can’t ever, why are you ever here?”

They began to bicker.

“Children! Children!”

They all turned to you and you gestured for them all to sit down so they did.

Spike huffed and left the house.

“Why are you at Giles’ place?” Willow asked.

Buffy turned to you.

She gave you a sheepish look and you laughed a little, shaking your head at her.

“Please don’t..” she grumbled.

“Oh I’m so going to now.”

You turned to her friends and she jumped on you, covering mouth with her hand so you couldn’t say anything.

“Come on tell us!” Xander grinned.

“No! There’s nothing to tell!” Buffy yelled.

“Maybe she came looking for you?” Tara offered.

“Oh she definitely came looking for somebody else.” Anya smirked.

You carried on pretending to fight with your niece, until she finally gave in and let you go, giving you a pleading look.

You grinned a little and leant back in the chair, looking at her friends.

“So, what brings you guys by?”

“Do you know about demons?” Anya asked.

“Anya!” Willow hissed.

You laughed slightly.

“I know a bit, not much. I don’t think I’ll be much help to you.”

“Do you know where Giles is?” Tara asked.

You shook your head.

“I’ve been here a few hours maybe, I was asleep until you heard of elephants came bounding in.”

They grinned a little at you, and you looked at Buffy.

“Can we hang around until he gets back?”

“Yeah, of course. Just don’t break anything, now, I’m going back to sleep, you guys behave.”

You got up, hugging your niece you went to leave but she stopped you, and you looked at her, sighing softly.

Sitting back down on the chair, you let her squeeze herself next to you and you kicked your feet on the table.

“Go on then, tell me about all your adventures. If I fall asleep don’t take it personally I’m tired.”

So, that’s what they did.

They all excitedly told you everything that had been going on, especially Buffy who wanted you to know everything about everything she knew.

You knew about her being the slayer, and you were supportive of her just like her watcher was, you helped her when you could.

She loved telling you about her life, because you always just listened, no snide remarks or comments, no judging her choices or things she did, you just listened.

They got talking to themselves, and you had fallen asleep in the chair.

Buffy noticed this and shook your shoulder.

“Go to bed.”

You nodded, trudging back to bed and they carried on their discussion.

The door was opened and closed, and when Giles turned around he saw all eyes were on him.

“I’m going to change my locks, what on earth are you all doing here at this time?” He asked.

He looked at his watch to see it was early hours of the morning.

“Demons.” Anya said.

“Help.” Xander said next.

“Please?” Willow and Tara grinned.

He sighed, taking his jacket off he set it on the side and gestured for them to carry on while he went to the kitchen to make drinks.

He brought the tray out, setting it on the table.

“Well, it definitely sounds like demons, I’ll have to have a look through some books, but I’m pretty sure I know who these demons are, they’re rather easy to handle.”

They nodded and Buffy looked at him with a blank face.

“There’s something upstairs by the way, you might want to check that out.”

He furrowed his brows and handed the book to Willow, making his way up the stairs.

Turning the light on, he looked around and his gaze landed on the bed.

A wide smiled spread on his face, and he took his glasses off, setting them in his pocket as he made his way over, sitting on the bed he placed a hand on your shoulder.

“No…” you mumbled.

Giles leant down, gently pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Welcome home…”

You opened your eyes and you beamed a little at him, placing a hand on the back of his head so you could kiss him.

It was a kiss he happily responded too, placing his hand on the side of your face as he felt the feeling of your lips on his for the first time in months.

He pulled away and you sat up, shuffling over so you could tuck yourself against him in a hug.

He smiled, kissing your head a few times.

“You never said you were coming home..” he whispered.

“Wanted it to be a surprise, but the gang of heathens needed you help… and they woke me up…”

He chuckled a little at your disappointed tone.

“Well, I shall send them on their way, then you can go back to sleep darling.”

You shook your head, titling your head back to kiss his jaw.

“No.. it’s fine, help them.”

“Are you sure? I can ask them to come back, I don’t believe they would have an issue with that.”

You hummed a little as you stood up, stretching as you walked off.

Giles got up to follow you, and you stood near the wardrobe, looking for something more comfortable to wear.

With a little grin, he reached out, taking both your hands in his and turned you around, your back against the wall.

He let go of your hands, settling for cradling your face instead and you balled your hands into the fabric of his sweater as he leant down to kiss you again.

You didn’t want it to end, but when someone shouted his name he sighed and pulled away, giving you an apologetic look.

“I do love you, but if I don’t go down they’re going to come up.”

You laughed, patting his chest.

“Get, I’ll be down in a minute.”

He quickly kissed you before walking away and you found some more comfortable clothes to change into before following him.

You wondered into the kitchen to find something to eat, Buffy standing next to you to help raid the cupboards.

“Since your back now does this mean we can go shopping?” She asked.

“As in you want to spend your money or you want to spend my husbands money?”

She grinned.

“Your husbands.”

You hummed, glancing into the living before turning back to her.

“How long until they find out?” She asked.

She was trying to keep it a secret because she knew he friends would never let her live down the fact that her watcher, and old librarian was in fact her uncle.

“I’m gonna go with not long.”

She furrowed her brows and you pointed to Anya.

“She’s seen his wedding ring.”

“I don’t know how they haven’t noticed it before.” Buffy said.

Anya whispered something to Tara, who whispered to Willow who passed it on to Xander.

You walked into the living room, sitting back in your chair as you flicked through some books, silence taking over for a while.

But of course it never lasted.

“Giles!”

In an instant both yours and your husbands head shot up to face the boy who had just shouted in shock.

“What?” You both asked.

“Oh my god they are married!” Willow squealed.

Buffy hid her face and you laughed while Giles turned away in embarrassment.

“Buffy’s watcher is her uncle!” Xander laughed.

You reached up, placing your hand on your husbands, and he looked at you with a smile.

“How does it feel knowing you’re never going to escape him Buffy? You’re stuck with him now.” Anya said.

“Okay I’m going home!”

She ran towards the door while he friends ran after her.

“Congratulations Giles!” They yelled.

The house became empty and Giles sighed, sitting on the arm of the chair and you rested your head against his side.

“I’m never living this down, am I? They’re going to taunt me about this for the rest of my life.”

“Ouch, am I really that bad?” You teased.

He smiled, standing up and offered you his hand which you took so you could stand up.

“Nothing could ever compare to how perfect you are dear.”

“You’re such a suck up Rupert.”

He grinned a little.

“Isn’t that why you fell in love with me? That and I am ruggedly handsome if I say so myself, with a rather charming British accent.”

“I’m sorry, would you like to marry yourself?”

He rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around you waist, and you wrapped yourself around his shoulders.

“I love you.” He whispered.

You leant up, brushing your lips against his.

“I love you too.”

#buffy the vampire slayer imagine #buffy the vampire slayer #Buffy the vampire slayer x reader #buffy the vampire slayer x you #Rupert Giles #Rupert Giles x reader #Rupert Giles x you #Rupert Giles imagine

88 notes · View notes

andypantsx3 · 1 year

Note

support tech major graduate!reader becomes fast best friends with fuyumi after fuyumi moves into her new apartment and has no idea who fuyumi is related to, but thinks she looks kinda familiar. cue pro hero!shouto coming over for the first time to visit his big sister and getting the apartment numbers mixed up 🫢

"Hello-oooly shit," was the complete idiocy that escaped you.

The man at your front door stared down at you.

He was tall and insensibly handsome, with a mop of scarlet and white hair and two mismatched eyes. He wore a dark turtleneck that stretched over a set of broad shoulders, belted neatly into a pair of jeans that clung tightly to his muscular thighs.

He had to be the most utterly perfect human being you had ever seen in person.

He was also absolutely, horrifyingly familiar.

Pro hero Shouto.

"You are not Fuyumi," he intoned, his voice low and soft, the way you'd heard it on a hundred TV broadcasts. Except it was also, inexplicably, slightly accusatory.

It took you an incredibly long moment to fish the name Fuyumi out of the recesses of your brain, and realize that you knew it.

Fuyumi was your neighbor a couple doors down—a white-haired, friendly girl who taught elementary school and baked what had to be the most unreasonably delicious welcome cookies this side of the Noto Peninsula.

And apparently, her family name was Todoroki.

"Neither are you," you said pointedly.

Pro hero Shouto blinked at you, long and slow like a cat. "I should hope not."

You stared up at him, absolutely mystified by this response. The hell did that mean? "Uh...good that we're on the same page then?" you ventured.

Shouto's brows creased ever-so-slightly, as if you were equally as mystifying to him. As though you were the one who had turned up at his apartment and accused him of not being someone.

Which—oh.

"You're looking for Fuyumi's apartment?" you guessed.

Shouto nodded, holding up a piece of scrap paper with your building's address noted in an utterly atrocious hand. You were immediately clear on how the mix up had happened.

"Oh! That's supposed to be a seven, I think," you said, touching the final digit of the unit number. "I'm three oh one, she's three oh seven. Did someone with a broken hand write this?"

You'd meant it as a joke, but Shouto floored you by nodding. "She called before medical check in," he said.

You could have slapped yourself. "Oh my god, I—you literally had a broken hand."

After he'd rescued someone, probably, too, and here you were being a dick about it!

"I'm so sorry, I'm such a weenie," you said. "Yeah, she's a few doors down that way, you should find her in a second. I—uh—it was cool to, um. Meet you. In person. She's—tell Fuyumi I said hi."

Shouto nodded seriously, pocketing the piece of paper. "Shall I tell her you say 'Hello-oooly shit'?" he asked.

You spluttered wildly, an embarrassed heat licking up your veins so fast you thought you might be spontaneously combusting.

"You—that's—! In my own home!" was all that you managed.

A tiny half-smile pulled at Shouto's mouth. He watched you for a long minute, those famous heterochromatic eyes flickering over your face.

"Thank you for your help," he said finally, his voice going light and gentle. "I hope we will see each other again."

And then he stepped away from your door, and you had the good sense to gasp out a, "Yes! Goodbye!" and slam it shut behind him, your heartbeat racing.

A low, soft chuckle echoed in the hall.

And you wondered how soon, exactly, you might see Shouto Todoroki again.

I loved this idea, anon!! Thank you for letting me play with it!! 🥺

I hope you had a very excellent Shouto's Birthday lmao.

#ask andie

307 notes · View notes

suzukiblu · 3 months

Note

Okay yeah, I wasn't sure about it at first but after actually reading it, The Parasite has me in a chokehold now. Of course Clark is beating himself up for a tragedy that he couldn't have known to try and prevent, and of course everyone else is beating themselves up for not thinking of mind control. How could anyone have known? And how would anyone think to consider a brain parasite of all things? Especially in a Kryptonian. His last brain scan wasn't even an unreasonably long time before the parasite took over, so they can't even say that they missed a checkup or anything (before it was too late anyways)

And Kon, if he actually did notice the mind control and the parasite actually did kill him, of course he'd be the one to see it. With mind control being as familiar of a concern as it is for him (being born with programming like that, even incomplete programming, would probably have you checking your thoughts and actions regularly) and it being CLARK, yeah it is very likely that he would be the first person to notice. Really hoping this isn't the case though, Clark is already in enough pain from the things the parasite did. Him and Kon don't deserve this.

In conclusion; good angst, great angst, I got so upset I got a headache (frequent occurrence when stressing out over angst. Brain don't like tension, which is unfortunate because thats one of my favourite things to read)

Thank you, I'm so glad you're enjoying it! I really love it and love all the hurting in it. But also I'm sorry about the headache, haha, oh god, I'm so sorry about the headache. 😅 I just want to make you cry, not get HEADACHES! That's not the kind of hurting I'm trying to cause!!

( also uhhhhh when I write more of this the angst is only gonna get WORSE so fair warning, keep your headache meds on tap for future installments )

I'm also really pleased the logic of why no one realized what was going on worked for you, I tried REAL hard to make it believable. Like, there's just situations you can't plan for and wouldn't notice! That's just a thing! Even with people you really care about and even if you're Lois Lane or freakin' BATMAN.

#anonymous #rintalk

30 notes · View notes

cirilla-fiona-riannon · 9 months

Text

Chevalier's Sequel Chapter 8 Spoilers

This is a rough translation, so expect grammatical errors. Spoilers ahead.

As soon as he heard my footsteps, the man turned his gaze towards me and smiled.

???: “We meet again.”

Emma: “You are...umm...”

The man had mysterious eyes that captured the starry sky and silver hair that shone when illuminated by the light.

Although he had an unforgettable appearance, I couldn’t remember it.

Azel: “I’m Azel. It’s no wonder you don’t remember me.”

Azel: “After all, this is a dream within a dream, something meant to be forgotten.”

(That’s right, Azel!)

Somewhere in the depths of my mind, fragments of memories flickered faintly.

I could only remember bits and pieces, but I had a similar dream before.

Azel: “By the way, you’re not from Tanzanite, right?”

Azel: “Then there’s no point in being overly polite.”

The gentle atmosphere from earlier suddenly disappeared, and his affectionate smile turned cold.

(He’s as quick to change as ever.)

Azel: “Anyway, did something happen to you?”

Emma: “What do you mean?”

Azel: “Look at the rose.”

He beckoned me, and I quickly walked towards the glass-domed rose.

It looked like a beautiful gemstone similar to a rose used when selecting the king, but something was strange.

Emma: “This is...”

(Some of the rose’s petals are discolored.)

Emma: "Why...?"

(I have no idea.)

(What does the rose's discoloration indicate in the first place?)

I sought an answer in his mystical eyes but was met with a sigh.

Azel: "There's no way I would know. Besides, I have no intention of listening to your troubles."

Azel: "I'm tired of working day in and day out, so let me at least rest in this dream."

(Weird. This is a dream, so he's not supposed to exist.)

Emma: ".........."

Azel: ".........."

Azel: "If you want to think about something, go somewhere else. You're distracting me."

Emma: "But this is my dream."

Azel: "I'm having this dream too."

(This guy is so unreasonable.)

(But I don't think pondering over the rose will lead me to any answers.)

After all, this was just a dream.

I still love Chevalier just the same.

As long as my feelings remained unchanged, maybe I didn't need to worry about it.

(If that's the case, I should focus on something else.)

Emma: "Are you from Tanzanite?"

I asked to distract myself, and he nodded.

(It's strange. I've never met anyone from Tanzanite before, so why does he appear in my dreams?)

(Maybe it's the influence of something I read.)

While I understand that this dream had nothing to do with reality, if the person standing before me was really from Tanzanite, then I need to worry.

Emma: “Speaking of Tanzanite, didn’t you guys recently form a tripartite alliance? Why did that happen?”

Azel: “I never thought I’d discuss politics in a dream. Even if I tell you, you will forget about it.”

Emma: “I still want to hear it.”

Azel: “Alright. I’ll tell you. Consider this my apology since I’m intruding into your dream.”

For some reason, he returned to using honorifics and smiled mysteriously as if a halo was shining behind him.

Azel: “Let’s just say it was due to divination.”

Emma: “Divination?”

Azel: “Yes. In Tanzanite, divination is everything.”

Azel: “Those foolish people, ahem, those devout believers, follow God’s guidance.”

(Ugh, this sounds so fishy.)

(But they say that dreams reflect our subconscious, so maybe I secretly think that way?)

(It’s rude to jump to conclusions, so next time, I’ll study Tanzanite properly.)

Azel: “Although, Achroite and Kogyoku are far more sensible strategic alliances than Tanzanite.”

Azel: “That’s all I can tell you.”

Emma: “..........”

I took a breath, and the divine light that shone from behind him and his gentle smile vanished like an illusion.

Azel: "Since you're worried about the alliance, are you perhaps related to the royal family?"

Emma: "My fiancé is the King."

Azel: "The King's woman..."

Azel: "Oh, I see. You're the famous 'Belle' from Beauty and the Beast."

(Has that story even spread to Tanzanite!?)

(No, that's impossible. This is a dream.)

Azel: "I see. I've heard about your love story."

Azel: "It really is a curse. But I didn't expect it to be a curse involving the country's fate."

(A curse, huh?)

(I remember he said that love is a curse.)

Emma: "I still don't understand."

(I have never felt love as a curse.)

(And never will.)

(So why do I feel so confused?)

Azel: "Think about it."

Azel: "Originally, there was no benefit for the royal family to marry a commoner."

Azel: "And yet, knowing this, the King of Rhodolite chose you to be his wife."

Azel: "That sounds like a story the people would love, but what about reality?"

Azel: "A love affair with a commoner is usually harmful to the king."

Emma: "That's not true!"

Azel: "It happens often. There were stories of kings who destroyed themselves by being in love."

(Chevalier said the same thing when we first met.)

However, the Chevalier now admits that love brings growth.

I feel that way every day too.

Azel: "You stubbornly deny that love is a curse, but can that man choose his country when the time comes?"

Emma: "He can. Prince Chevalier is that kind of person."

(Even if he loves me, that will not change because Chevalier was born a king.)

Azel: "You don't understand the horror of love, do you?"

However, Azel shook his head confidently.

Azel: "The same can be said about you. A queen must prioritize her country's interests alongside the king."

Azel: "When the time comes, can you choose your country's interests?"

Emma: "Of course, I can."

Azel: "Easy for you to say."

Azel: "Let me make a prediction. You will definitely not be able to choose."

(That's not true.)

I tried to respond, but my vision suddenly became distorted.

(Huh?)

Azel: "It's time to wake up."

Azel: "I'll pray that the story of Beauty and the Beast doesn't turn into a tragic love story."

#ikemen prince #ikepri spoilers #ikepri chevalier #chevalier michel #ikepri jp #ikepri

76 notes · View notes

mybelde · 1 year

Text

42: sorry ♤

23 March, Wednesday, 4.45pm

Location: The Neuroscience class

"You seriously haven't made up with Lumine yet?? What are you, a coward?"

"Oh shut up Scara, it's none of your business."

"Well it will be my business if you don't start concentrating on the pairwork project. If I knew you'd be this out of focus, I wouldn't have made you my partner."

"Fine... I won't get distracted anymore."

"I can't guarantee that you won't be distracted anymore unless you finally make up with Lumine."

You just glared at Scaramouche, grabbed your things and left the class. What part of you thought it would be a good idea to pair up with him?

But..... maybe you shouldn't have stormed off on him, after all, he just wanted to make sure that you won't hinder his chances of getting an A for the project.

You soon came to regret your decision of leaving the classroom so quickly, as you spotted a familiar blond waiting outside.

"Oh no...." You internally groaned.

It was Lumine.

You weren't ready to face her just yet. You were still mad from the fight the both of you had, and how she was a part of the reason why you and Aether broke up.

But, something inside of you was nagging at you to go and apologise to her.

"Maybe she isn't waiting outside here for me?" You thought hopefully, as you tried to sneak past her. But you immediately stopped in your tracks when she called out your name.

"Yn."

Everything, and everyone around you both literally went silent.

You could feel everyone in the hallways' piercing gaze at the both of you.

Oh god.

Did word spread around that the both of you got into a fight?

If not, then what the hell was everyone's problem?

While you were lost in your own thoughts, Lumine decided to take matters in her own hands, and dragged you off to where no one can bother you both....

23 March, Wednesday, 4.51pm

Location: Spare classroom

The only thing you could hear in the empty classroom was the slow, soft ticking of the clock.

You were standing on one side of the classroom, and Lumine was standing on the opposite side.

Neither of you said a thing to each other. As time passed by, the more awkward you felt.

Why isn't she saying anything?? Why did she even drag me here?

You looked at her, and quickly noticed that dark bags had formed under her eyes, and her complexion didn't look that good.

Did she not sleep well over the past few days...?

Why?

You felt a little uneasy, and worried, as you weren't used to seeing Lumine look like a mess.

"Sorry."

Wait what?

Though she said it softly, you were able to hear it.

So you immediately looked at Lumine, who was staring right at the floor, not even batting an eye at you.

"I'm sorry." She repeated again, this time she was much more louder.

Truth be told, you were shocked. You didn't expect Lumine to be the one apologising first, considering how stubborn she could be sometimes.

A little part of you even felt ashamed of yourself for not being the one to apologise first.

"I.... didn't mean to get so angry at you."

"If I'm being honest, I was upset at first when I saw you and Aether... kissing."

"I guess I felt kind of betrayed, because I told you long ago to not date my brother."

"But after thinking about it for the past few days.... I realised.... that I was being a little.. no. I was being unreasonable."

She took a brief pause, locking her eyes with yours, before continuing.

"Xiao talked to me a few days ago."

Wait, Xiao?

You couldn't help but feel surprised when you heard those words come out of Lumine's mouth. He was the last person you thought that would involve himself in your situation.

"After talking to him, I realised how fucking stupid and stubborn I was towards you."

Oh.

"I shouldn't have gotten angry over the fact that you fell for my brother, and I shouldn't have said that you couldn't date him as well."

"I only said that because I was scared that he would be your number one priority once you start dating, and we would drift apart."

"But I realised I was being a hypocrite, as I started prioritising other people, other things over you, especially back at Childe's party, when I left you alone to hangout with other people-"

"No no, Lumine, it was my fault as well." You interrupted her.

You knew that you were at fault too.

She shouldn't be the only one apologising.

"I shouldn't have hid my true feelings from you."

"From the start, I should have told you about them, instead of lying about it."

"But I was the one who kept on insisting for you to not date Aether."

"Forcing my ideals on you was wrong of me, because who am I to control who you like?"

"You're free to like whoever you like, same with Aether."

"I just wished that I realised this sooner, because it was really stupid and selfish of me to stop you from dating Aether."

"And getting angry over it"

"No Lumine, I understand why you got so mad, and it was normal of you to feel like that, because I myself wasn't being a good friend to you too."

"Sure, you were busy with student council duties and stuff like that, but that doesn't mean that we should have drifted."

"I started avoiding you due to the feelings I had for Aether, and because of that, we drifted."

"I didn't tell you the truth that you deserved because I was scared."

"Scared that you would get mad at me, scared that you would stop talking to me, and that did happen."

"But really, it was all my fault, for not communicating with you properly."

"For not telling you the truth earlier."

"We probably wouldn't even have fought that much if I had just told you the truth earlier, so I take the full blame for our fallout."

"So in reality, you have every right to get angry at me, for not telling you the truth."

"So really, I'm sorry as well."

You looked back Lumine, and was surprised to see tears forming on her face.

Before you could say another word, she had already pounced on you, hugging you so tightly that you could barely breathe.

"I FELT SO TERRIBLE AFTER SAYING THOSE SHIT WORDS TO YOU, YOU KNOW. I COULD BARELY SLEEP PROPERLY, BECAUSE I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!"

You smiled to yourself and hugged her back.

"I missed you too."

"I still wanted to be mad at you though 😮‍💨"

"Did you feel like punching me for getting so mad at you?"

"......yeah."

"Yeah.... I would too if I were you."

<- Previous | Masterlist | Next ->

we love to see people come to their consensus and apologise, without anyone forcing them to do so 🤩

one twin down, all that's left is to get back together with the other twin

tag list - closed |•| @bobaducky @belovedxiao @mangobee @kokxm1 @crueldinasty @c-sunflower01 @xiaosoneandonly @denisemyg @shinjume @bippitybennie @yae-raidenmyloves @goodnight-haley @butteredmilc @bubiblossom @hollowedtime @blurr3db3rry @redactedhimbo @scaramouche-slut @sserafimez @n3r0-1417 @obsessed4aether @xiaoyksa @flor3s-de-j4zmin3 @opchara @shirmxie @lxry-chxn @justonemoreroz @lordbugs @dazaisfavgf @hichi842 @duckyyyx @iwishitwas @angryhope @mochicurls21 @cutiekuni @meigalaxy @ioysuu @doppoluvbot @itsactuallylina @kkazuyass @supersexypapichulo @moonbunny-fl @ghosted-fr @atlatcaheart @zuzuha @lez-zuha @je-suis-argent-miel [1/2]

if your name is in red, it means its not letting me tag you from some reason :( idk why maybe my phone is acting up

tag list — closed

#genshin impact #genshin impact smau #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin impact au #aether smau #aether x reader #aether x y/n #aether fluff #your bestfriend's twin brother

195 notes · View notes

ay-chuu · 1 year

Note

hey hey <3 I would like to join your BSD prompts, can I please get fyodor + 7 but the reader is the one telling him that (7), the reader is quite intelligent nearing fyodor's IQ, and she is logic-inclined. thank you :)

Prompt 7: “The closer you get to the light, the darker your shadow becomes. Remember that.”

Warnings: Kind of spoilers of "Crime and Punishment." if you get it tbh...

Pairing: Fyodor x fem!reader

Ideals blind people through ambition.

Fyodor does not remember the beginning of his past with you. You have been with him since he knew himself to be the faithful guardian of Crime and Punishment.

Fyodor doesn't care about people. -Or he just says so himself…- Because why would he love sinful and hysterical creatures? Even thought he was a human once. But after God took pity on him and he died and rose again, he was aware that he carried a trace amount of humanity.

Ambition increases a person's ego and receives his humanity in return.

That's why when you warned him about going on this mission but he didn't even care about you No… NO, he didn't care about you. Even he does... he shouldn't...

But Fyodor knew. He knew deep down that you were right to the very end, and that you were right when he said that he was a human being, too. He shouldn't believe your lies, though. Because sometimes ideals are more insignificant than realities… Right?

But feelings are always the winner. Because a person's soul ignites from their feelings...

Some people run away from their humanity for their ego and turn into a low person. But like I said, a low HUMAN.

"How long are you going to run away from yourself, Fyodor?" you said it calmly. With your hands gathered behind your waist, a curious look, an attractive sly voice and an incredible charm.

"The only thing I have escaped is your strange comments, my dear friend. Your annoying unreasonable comments, it bothers me." Fyodor said, taking care that his voice did not tremble. How dowdy! He began to consider one of you people as a friend, and he already regrets it. no, he's not. Maybe he should kill you now, hm? Because Fyodor, no matter how logical he is, always runs away from the truth.

"I know that." you said to him with a sly smile. "The truth bothers every human, my dear."

There is no escape from humanity. A person escapes from their humanity because of the logic of their feelings.

Fyodor looked at you with a deadly look. "How many times do I have to tell you not to confuse me with dark beings like you? Maybe a beautiful death will give you a more logical interpretation."

"Oh, try as much as you like." you began to whisper as you leaned forward with your head bowed amiably. "But I have always wondered what you still deny, Fyodor, when that mighty power can be erased by a single human touch without the need for god."

And as Fyodor looked into your eyes, from his heart he began to rebel against God. Why wasn't he ripping out his heart? So he could get rid of his feelings for you.

Especially the feeling of love can bring a person to the highest state when they are on their lowest. Because God created people with love.

The windows can be broken with one heavy blow. Because while the glasses look strong while they are performing their functions, they are so delicate that they can be broken with a single touch. Like a heart.

"I wouldn't say that actually… But i told you." you said coldly, looking at Fyodor, who was crouching on the floor in front of him and trembling nervously.

In the silence that gave the air of decadence, Fyodor begged God to prevent his voice from trembling as he gave his answer. He couldn't afford to have his pride hurt when he was so vulnerable to your words.

"No. You just made everything difficult for me. Because…"

"Because you have taken such a heavy love for me and thrown it into it that you have rejected both the facts I have said and your feelings." you said as you knelt down and lifted him up.

Fyodor stopped shaking as your words rang on the walls. For many years, he tried to collect his logic and words, while being shocked that you could just pour out the insides of the war that he gave you and himself. Even though he can't do anything.

That's why you took his face between your hands and made him look at you. You felt your heart soften when you saw his lips and eyes tremble. "Why are you so obsessed with crime and punishment, my dear? Why did you become so sinful and run away from your self when you knew that you were a human being too and that you would eventually be defeated?" you said with a sweet expression as you stroked his cheeks.

And at that moment, Fyodor understood why he hated emotional intelligence. Because an emotionally intelligent person was the best person who could be close to god. Not inferiors like him who dehumanize his ideals and ambition and enlarge his ego with the god complex…

"I… i wanted to reach the light. I wanted to be the most luminous being while watching this bitter humanity suffer all the messes it does and enjoy it…"

"Ah, my dear… but, do you know what? The closer you get to the light, the darker your shadow becomes. Remember that." you said when you put Fyodor's head on your lap.

"I know that." Fyodor could only say. By experiencing the awareness of being the shadow there and falling in love with the light.

As your hand wandered through his hair, he became aware of the decadence he had suffered. The building had exploded. His computers had burned down. The efforts he had given for years were turning to ashes. The justice he himself wanted to fulfill was coming to him with crime and punishment. He knew the cops would be here soon. And that he won't be able to escape from prison this time. He knew that every crime he committed with an ax would be punished, that two close friends would betray him.

Fyodor had always wondered if he would find in himself the right to have a say over human life, which is in the hands of God and is not granted to anyone else. Perhaps that was the reason for all his ambition and escape from humanity. Maybe that's why he wanted to avoid falling in love with you. He felt that he could never accept the answer to his question as no. But obviously, a person suffers crime and punishment because of his remorse.

But… Fyodor was relieved. He understood that he would pour out the remorse he had suppressed for years with his confessions. And even better, he knew that in exchange for crime and punishment, there is always a reward. The thing that made him happy was that he realized that this award was you and that you were in love with him.

Fyodor felt his consciousness slipping. Most likely, he would have lived his love affair with you in prison cells. But who cares? He knew that a smart, strong woman like you would come after him even if he got a life sentence.

Realizing that the last thing he heard was the sounds of sirens, Fyodor smiled before fainting. Maybe that's why God didn't allow anyone to have a say over people. So that he can experience his feelings.

#bungo stray dogs #bsd fanfic #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #bsd fluff #bsd fyodor x reader #bsd imagines #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd headcanons #fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor fluff #bsd #bungou stray dogs

265 notes · View notes

teamdarkweek · 6 months

Note

Need the story behind this really bad

Alright, here you are! I honestly had no story behind this, but I made one up for you, it's a bit mushy though!

Serial Number (also on Ao3)

E-123 Omega - the most impressive, most magnificent, and most righteous robot ever to roam Mobius - was being used as a clothes airer. He buzzed his fans, blowing a pair of tights from one lens of his ocular unit. Rouge took them from his face, and looped them onto the proper airer in the utility room of her home.

Shadow and Omega were rarely permitted into her new home, after her first flat had been battered and the doorframes split, so now it was theirs. But that whole building was evacuated for a bomb scare, as trivial as it seemed to them, so there was no choice but to have an unwilling stayover until it was cleared for re-entry.

"Ooh, you've warmed them too: hold this blanket so I can be cosy." She chuckled, climbing over him in the tiny room. The only plug in the building that had undampened access to power was the one for her extreme gear, which was wedged in between the washing machine and spare freezer in a room not much bigger than him. He growled as she dumped another pile of clothes on his head, then climbed back over him.

"I know, I know. I'll get these out your way. God, you're paying the electric bill for this weekend, Megs."

Omega looked around for another person in the room. Rouge laughed.

"Oh sure, 'what, me?' He says, costing two weeks power in one charge! Yes, you're paying for it!"

"This assignment of blame is unreasonable! Unit will pay no such thing. Entity Identified 'Megs' welcome to pay."

Rouge squinted at him as she hung out her work uniform, before she gave in to snickering again.

"Megs as in O-meg-a. That's you, darling."

"Incorrect. Not a registered identification."

"Well, don't have a long name if you don't want it shortened!"

Omega tried to wriggle his arms out of his jam in the middle of the room to remove a bra from his eyes, but ended up just shaking it off.

"Title 'Omega' is shortening for puny and incapable mobians: only accepted moniker for E Series Primary Model, ID:123 Ω, edition 4."

She stared at him and blinked. He copied her by closing the shutters on his cameras briefly.

"... sure thing, Megs. Edition 4? Like 'the forth'? Oh my god, he's a landowner, careful: you'll get robbed 'round these parts." She cackled, finished hanging her clothes out, and left him stuck and fuming.

Omega waited impatiently for his teammates to be ready. Why just because they were staying together they had to leave for work together, he didn't know; he would have left hours ago to terrorize the G.U.N. campus in peace, but was outvoted. Shadow was standing on the roof, waiting for the last second before it had to leave; and it had seconds and then some, because Rouge was curling the ends of her hair.

Omega knocked on the door forcefully, and she helped.

"Geez, M.G., don't spook me like that. Shoot, now I have a burn to cover up. We'll only get later if you pull tricks!" She whined through the door.

"M.G. is an initialising of what?"

"Oh Em Gee! Like Omega!" She laughed through the door. He stomped away, sat at the bottom of the stairs, then performed a perfect impersonation of her fire alarm, so they both panicked and ran through the house.

Rouge covered her magnificent ears with the heavy hood over her all-black jumpsuit. Only her wings were exposed, and she folded them back so they blended with the outfit.

Omega crunched himself small, his eyes zoomed to their maximum capacity so nearly the whole red light was obscured with a pupil. They crouched together on the roof of a pub, where he glared in at the exhibition across the street. Next to him, something fluttered, and a dark figure swooped from his side to the awnings of the museum. He spotted her, switching one eye to a heat signature to track her in through a chimney. As she crossed the first room, another heat signature walked up the stairs to the Byzantine display.

□ Guard enters. Await clearance.

Rouge hung on the ceiling very still before the other figure opened the door, and walked straight under her, across to the next exhibit, where it stopped.

○ Clear, E?

Omega didn't register what 'E' meant, presuming it was a misstype from her fallible fingers.

□ Await clearance. Guard poised to return.

And as he predicted, the guard had followed the wrong directions, and went back on themselves and back to the stairs to go one more floor up.

□ Clear to proceed.

○ Perf, thanks darl.

Rouge had paused to type, and now progressed to the coronets encased in perspex. As she arrived, she opened a window a tiny bit, and Omega lined up his shot.

With perfect precision, he shot a laser too small for natural eyes to see into the security camera, shattering the glass lens inside. He then switched the laser to the cabinet, carving a hole big enough for her to climb through. She instantly descended on it, forcing him to stop the invisible deadly line just a moment before her arm crossed it. He beeped for a job well done, and certainly not worry for his most breakable friend.

She filled her arms and bag with glittering, gem-heavy jewellery, and sped along the ceiling, above the cameras, and back into the chimney.

Omega adjusted his eyes to normal distance as Rouge swept over him, grasping him by the handles and into the night.

"Wonderfully done, E-Megs." She hummed softly into the enveloping night she carried them through. His mind processed, and then he filled with rage.

"Incorrect Name!"

"What, where? What did I say?"

"Unacceptable shortening!"

"Megan, haven't you ever heard of a nickname?!" She laughed as they soared out of the city before she started to descend.

"'Nickname' not necessary!"

"Well, no, nothing's necessary, but it's friendly."

Omega seethed, and parsed her name, searching for an equally insulting shortening.

"R... Roger."

"Oh sweetie, I don't think that's going to work."

"As logical as Megan!"

"No, it's similar letters, but you've not preserved the sounds. You can nickname based on other things about someone. Like I could call you a tincan, because you're made of metal, or Red, because you're sorta red, or-"

"You are a furbag."

"Well, that's just rude, and not that funny. Keep trying, though." She chuckled as she set him on the ground, flexing her wings as she sat on his shoulder. Omega didn't observe that there was likely nobody else who could insult her like that without being dropped to the tarmac and assaulted for their troubles. He stomped them home, jumbling letters and wordclouds to find the right names.

Days later, the team convened for a briefing. Omega could barely contain his excitement at finally - finally - hitting the field again. He elbowed Rouge as she scribbled their notes and supplies list.

"More flares." He whispered unquietly. She nodded, and jotted something under the second of three columns; she'd titled this one 'Megalomaniac'. Omega took the paper and ripped it from the pad. She smirked, and drew up her note page again, titling the columns: 'Shadow, P-M(ega)-S, Rouge❤️'

Omega whirred for a minute, thinking, before he decided that was also too insulting, and ripped that page too. Shadow confiscated the notepad.

Rouge was occupied harassing the red creature from the floating island. Shadow and Omega kicked their heels - figuratively and literally - while they waited for her to return so their mission could continue. And Shadow betrayed him.

"Are you prepared for the siege, E... E-one hundred and twenty-three (the fourth)?" It faltered, awkward as it tried to join in the feud. Omega burned: he had explicitly printed all of the unacceptable variations of his name to deliver to Rouge, and Shadow had posed as his ally when it attached this list to the fridge. Omega handled this defect to the side of evil with all the grace and decorum it deserved: he picked Shadow up by its ankles and swung it.

"You do not understand nicknames. Please refer to the Wiki Texts: it is an affront to be incorrectly insulted. Alternative proceeding: Don't try to be funny." He said in time with the shaking of Shadow, as it maintained folded arms and furrowed brow, despite the quills being loosened from its hair.

"You objected to shortenings. I shall lengthen your name instead. Perhaps you would prefer even longer?" Shadow kept its face masterfully still and its pose as serious as ever despite being upside down, barely letting one eye narrow as Omega glared; "Ascii: Zero-one-zero-zero-zero-one-zero-one,"

Omega beamed hatred at it through his glowing red eyes, which only served to encourage Shadow that this was the intended outcome.

"Numerical: Zero-"

"You are not funny." Omega shouted in its face, holding it up to his own head plate. Shadow smirked, but zipped easily out of his grasp to stand as sombrely as ever, lest Knuckles see it having fun from afar.

"So touchy. What's it to you? It's barely a name, just a glorified serial number."

Omega glared at Rouge's shape across Angel Island as she was chased like the pest she was by the guardian. He didn't have an answer, but he did have rage. And neither of them had the good sense to draw a line.

"If I were you, I'd want a new name. You're bearing the title of your creator far too proudly."

"Project Shadow: a military-funded armaments initiative. There is no honour in that." Omega remarked coldly.

"Shadow: a way to find the path of light. Named for the hope of a friend. I have every honour in that." It spat. Omega let the silence hang, before deciding he was still angry.

"Project Shadow led to the raid of the Ark. I would not bear that name."

Shadow stood, stunned, eyes wide at Omega. He reassessed his choice of words, but his pride was too great to scrounge and retract them. So they both burned silently for a minute more until Shadow had a handle on itself; it turned slowly on its heel, its face fixed on Omega.

"You would dare turn that event to a petty point to score?" It whispered. Omega couldn't look at it. He stared at Rouge and Knuckles without processing his view.

"Shadow and Rouge consent to mock the identifier of E-123 Omega. The point was scored equitably: their names are not above mine."

Shadow glowered at Omega, but it soon turned away to think.

Omega found Shadow remarkably easy to read, however, and observed its tapping fingers in its glove and the puff of breath through its nose: something unfinished in this conversation left Shadow with a compulsion to correct.

"Matter is trivial. Complete binary string, then never speak it again." He grumbled. Shadow breathed a heavy sigh of relief, then began reciting zeroes and ones under its breath for compulsion's sake. Omega waited it out.

Shadow did not join Rouge in nicknaming Omega from there on, and before the end of their mission she had picked that up, but was too stubborn to stop with the 'Megs' despite the filthy glares it tossed her. Omega simply stopped responding to a thing she said, even when she didn't use a statement with names, which only made Shadow angrier with her. When they wrapped and returned to G.U.N. with a successfully cleared-out base, he turned away from them, back to the flat.

"Where are you going, big guy? They've not cleared the building as safe yet." Rouge sighed. Omega ignored her.

"Omega. We're going home." Shadow said quietly, grumpily looking to Rouge as it stood as a go-between again. Omega twisted his head.

"E-123 Omega is invulnerable and not in need of shelter."

He stomped away.

The building was still closed, but Omega jetted to the roof to sit, because he couldn't go back to the G.U.N. building yet in case Shadow or Rouge were still there, as they would know he hadn't actually gone to the flat. Of course, he could have blasted the door open anyway, but for a walking arsenal he felt something like emptied, so he sat on the roof shooting the feathers off birds that passed.

"Good shot, Omega." Rouge murmured over his shoulder. She hadn't crept up on him, of course; it wasn't possible for a machine to be lost in thought. He jumped because he hadn't expected her to speak; he wasn't concerned that she'd managed to find him on the roof. As quickly as he'd turned his head to see her, he swivelled it away again as though he hadn't.

She sighed and sat down next to him, sunning her wings in the dregs of the day. He ignored her as she tutted and sighed, opening and closing her mouth, until she sighed again harder, and he still didn't do what she wanted.

"Okay, you know how sometimes you throw me at things, and you think I'll be alright, but I just get hurt?" She said to the toes of her shoes and the sunset in front of her, bouncing her heels on the edge of the roof. He did not acknowledge.

"Or, when you jump and expect me to catch you, and my elbows buckle, 'cause I wasn't ready?"

She flexed her arms as she thought pointlessly aloud. Omega knew perfectly the kinds of incidents she was referring to: he still struggled to remember how animal strength was contingent on pose, daily status and nutrition, and was not a constant like his.

"Yeah. Sometimes you think I can take something I can't, or something's fun for me when it isn't. I do that too. I thought we were joking around, I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Unit is unimpacted by meaningless meatbag remarks." Omega said quickly, and she snorted.

"Well, when you say things like that, I sometimes believe you! Hang on, I didn't mean that; it's not your fault what I say."

Rouge didn't apologise. Not seriously. 'Sorry' only crossed her lips to be cruel or sarcastic. She was 'sorry' you underestimated her, for example, or 'sorry' she stood up for herself. She had personally twisted the word so completely, it would never sound genuine on her tongue. But then again, she did apologise: She sat quietly while he thought, uncomfortable in her own implied admission of guilt. He kept expecting her to interrupt and spin the scenario again until she was right and everyone was wrong, but she resisted the urge, and watched the sun set glumly.

Omega didn't know how to receive this. He had wanted to shout, or take revenge on her, but by now an unfamiliar blue feeling had settled in, and he was just sick of all this.

"What is the purpose?" He beeped after a while. Rouge leant her hands on the concrete and sighed as she stretched her back.

"I am a cruel lady, I thought you knew."

Omega considered this, and shot a pigeon as it flew past. He shot to miss, just grazing its tail-feathers but sent the beast into shock, and it smacked into a window in its haste to escape. She snickered.

"You're so merciful these days, so nice, I barely recognise you. Why not just kill it?"

"Pigeon is providing amusement. It would be less entertaining dead."

"Don't shoot birds to make me laugh. Not that it's a waste of birds, but it is a waste of ammo." She smiled. Omega thought she was joking, but it was still hard sometimes between them; she was so different from he, and things always went wrong when they forgot that.

Instead, he folded a finger back to produce a laser, and circled it around the pigeon on the jutting-out balcony it rested on below them. It started to follow the line like it was hypnotised, and Omega watched like he was hypnotised.

"Y'know, in my circles, nobody calls eachother by their full first name. It's kind of unfriendly, especially if someone's your friend or family. Not making an excuse. Just wondered if you knew."

Omega inclined his head, and folded that knowledge into the crinkly pages of information he had on his teammates. They were so messy and illogical.

"It is insulting to call you 'Rouge'?" He queried, mental pointer poised over her name field. She laughed.

"Heavens, no! I chose this name; that is the right one. I wouldn't let you know a name I didn't want you to call me."

"A challenge is posed."

She wrinkled her nose and stopped laughing; "I suppose I deserve that, but don't expect help to find it."

Omega silently erased the goal.

"How can a name be self-designated? It is an identifier used by others. It is assigned by the maker."

Rouge pulled her knees up from the side of the building and crossed her legs. Omega copied her, finishing tormenting the pigeon and twisting his head to her. She sucked her canines as she thought.

"No, that's not correct. It's how you see yourself, too. Clearly, you care about a name more than just some word other people use for you: since it's so important to who we are, we get to decide what it is."

She stole awkward glances at him as she spoke, and he stared at her thoughtfully with the world's most intense eye contact, until she finished her thought;

"I guess I just find it surprising you're happy identifying with Eggman, since you're pretty determined to destroy him."

Omega thought seriously over the problem that had been turning in his mind since his talk with Shadow: why did it matter so much to keep the moniker Eggman had given him? Something the doctor he hated had likely put no thought into, simply filled in from a list and arbitrarily stuck on him. It made sense to reject it. And yet...

"This unit is defined by the defiance of Eggman Code. If there is no evidence Eggman, there is no evidence of this choice." He tried to phrase it in a way that made sense, but again Rouge was too dissimilar to him to understand easily; "It is necessary that Eggman know he was destroyed by his own creation, who has surpassed him. This Unit is an E-series, built from generic parts for servitude. To erase that... cannot be countenanced."

Rouge thought quietly for a long time as the sun set around them. She looked him over; arrows indicating where parts should be assembled by factory line robot underlings. Red bulbs behind the ocular lenses that could be replaced at the local camera repair store. Countless screws and wires she had already exchanged and tightened.

"If every board of the ship has been replaced over time, is it still the same ship that set sail?" She asked.

"Unit has no interest in maritime foolishness." Omega supplied quickly, and she chuckled.

"I think it will be. Alright; do you want to collect your charger, at least?"

"... Unit has no place in the City to dock."

"Thought so. Come on, big- E, um, E-12-"

"Omega. Beast brains not sophisticated enough to remember numbers." He declared, raising himself from the roof as she stiffly stood up.

"I'll do the codes if you like, it just sounds like a 'Mister' or 'Missus' to me, and that always seems weird. But I'll do it." She added the last quickly as they headed off the roof. Omega grunted and beeped.

"You will forget again."

"No, I won't! I mean it!"

"Beast brain cannot perfectly recall facts. Failure of memory inevitable."

She grumbled, stretching her arms and offering one to him to lower them down gracefully.

"Alright, well if you think my memory is bad now, I'm going to give you hell when I'm senile. Purposely. But you won't be able to hold it against me, it's just my 'beast brain'."

"Preemptively forgiven. I know better than to be offended by your limited faculties."

"Shall I forget I'm holding you one hundred feet in the air?"

"One hundred and forty-six feet and two point two inches at time of statement. Inaccuracies are expected with feeble wet mind."

"Wet?"

She swooped them down, pretending to drop before she slowed their descent just in time, then settled on his shoulder as he walked them home.

#Rouge the Bat #E-123 Omega #team dark #sonic fanfic #ao3 #prose #omega #e123 omega

31 notes · View notes