#my goodness if that man isn't the finest in existence | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

onskepa · 3 months ago

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Helllooo, could I get a Rapunzel AU fic? In this universe Spider would be the rapunzel of the story, he gets stolen from his family, the Sullies, at a young age (he was adopted by Jake and Neytiri a couple of months after his dad’s death, although he really isn't) Quaritch would be the mother gothel of this AU, keeping Spider in a tower because his magic hair is what is helping him keep being alive. Then Loak would be like Flynn, but in this case a prince going through a rebellious phase, so he stills his older brother crown ( he doesnt really know Spider, cause he was a baby when he was kidnapped) his thief name is “Tulkun” and his partners in crime are Lyle and Z-Dog.

Quite the intersting idea I gotta say, none the less! I hope you enjoy this one!

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Our sun

The sun gives life to all, brings warmth and comfort. With its bright radiant light, it guides everyone to their path. Brings happiness and provides. A great gift humanity has ever gotten. For centuries, humanity has shown their gratitude in many ways. Praising, worshiping, believing the sun is their god.

A god that is powerful and strong. The Omatikaya kingdom knows that better than anyone in the world. Festivals, sigils, legends, their symbol of the kingdom, all were dedicated to their sun.

For centuries the kingdom has never wavered their belief in the sun. Remaining strong and true. Always grateful and never greedy. And so, the sun god who was also grateful for the people the sun provides to, believes they deserve a gift.

A drop of sunlight fallen from the sky has touched the Earth. Gifting the king and queen of the Omatikaya their beautiful sunshine child.

That is what the story says of course.

“He is beautiful…” Jake Sully, King of the Omatikaya kingdom, gently coos at his believed son. Beside him was his queen, his love, and mother of their golden child, neytiri.

“He is perfect,” Neytiri smiles as she rubs her nose gently against their sons button nose. He gives light giggles in satisfaction. Their son, their beloved child. A gift from the sun. His beautiful golden curly hair, bright blue eyes that can rival the sky. And his smile, so radiant and infectious. Their son, the kingdom's golden prince.

Wrapped in the finest silk with embroidery intricately designed to that of the sun. The young baby was very much snuggled in great comfort.

“My lord, my lady, it is time” tsu’tey, their closest friend and top chief of the Omatikaya army, tells them.

“Come on, we dont want to keep our people waiting” jake gently leads his wife towards the top balcony that oversees their people.

“Yes my love, our people shall know of our sunny prince,” Neytiri says while she boops her baby’s nose.

“Have you chosen a name for him?” tsu’tey asks as he follows closely behind. Neytiri chuckles as she shares a look with jake.

“Spider, we chose to call our son, spider”

The people cheered and roared out in happiness once the royal couple had presented their son. Many were in awe at how such an adorable child could ever exist. Truly a gift blessed from their sun.

Many threw flower petals, confetti, horns blowing out, little children waving their flags. The crowd was booming with noise. All eyes on the prince. Including one set of icey blue eyes. Glaring at the royal family.

No one noticed him. All too busy celebrating. A tall menacing man with a dark cloak to hide his face. The man glared with hate. Just how dare they?

How dare the king and queen lie to their people? How dare they lie that their ‘son’ was a gift from their light above? How dare they lie and say the boy belongs to them? Lies, all lies.

But Quaritch knows the truth. That baby, the child the royal couple holds is his son. His blood! His ‘wife’ was a foolish woman. Giving away their child to the royals. She is at fault in this mess too! Too bad she is dead otherwise quaritch would have given her a piece of his mind. But it is not too late. Good thing he still remembers the ins and outs of the palace. After all, he used to be their top chief. The king’s once right hand man. Now replaced by that snarky brat.

Quartich will have his revenge soon enough. He will have his son back one way or another.

Night came, and silent as an owl, quaritch entered the royal bedroom without a squeak. Quietly and effortlessly he passed by the couple who were sleeping soundly. Beside them was the cradle where HIS son was sleeping. The cradle was elegantly crafted with golden trims and plush pillows. Only a few days old and he is being spoiled rotten. Cant have that.

Grabbing his scissors, quaritch goes for the baby’s golden locks. His hair will be a dead give away if anyone finds him. However, just cutting a small strand, the piece of hair turned dark brown and the baby began to cry.

There was no time.

When Jake and Neytiri awoke to the cries of their child, they were too late.

In their eyes, a dark hooded figure stood at the balcony with their baby in his arms. Before Jake can reach him, the hooded figure jumps off and into the dark forest.

Neytiri cried, not believing what just happened. Jake was quick to call out the night guards. Alarms were sounded, tsu’tey was quick to gather his army to search for the thief who stole their sun.

18 years later

“Get your ass over here!” Z-dog, a professional female thief, growls at the little brat who seems to be taking his sweet ass time. Opening the top trap door that led straight down to the golden crown that was heavily guarded. Lyle, her partner in crime, was also getting impatient.

“Just a sec….wow……this view is nice, very nice…..guys I want my own castle” a young boy spoke. Age 14 and already making a long list of crimes against the kingdom. This will be the biggest one yet.

“When we do this job, you can have you own castle” lyle grits his teeth as he yanks lo’ak back to the missions. Tying the rope on his waist, they lower lo’ak down to the crown room.

Quickly he shoves the gold crown into the satchel until one of the guards sneezes loudly.

“Ugh, day fever?” lo’ak asks.

“Yeah” the guard answers casually. Until he realized what just happened. Looking up, he and the other guards saw lo’ak being pulled back up and quickly make a run for it.

“What a great day to be aliiiiiiiiiiiiive!!” lo’ak shouts as he, z-dog and lyle run across the bride that connects the forest and the kingdom.

The three ran fast at top speed. They already knew the royal guards were on their way to hunt them down. Capital punishment awaits them. tulkun might get some leeway. He really only wanted adventure, but for sure he does not want to really suffer the consequences.

As they ran for it, they halted to a dead end. Hearing the soldiers nearing, acting quick was needed.

“Give me a boost and I will pull you both up,” Tulkun said in a hurry.

Z-dog and lyle looked at each other and then at him.

“Give us the satchel first” z-dog says as she reaches for it.

Looking quite offended, Tulkun places a hand over his chest, “I cant….after all we have been together, you guys still dont trust me?”

Dead looks was all he was given.

“Ouch”

He gives the satchel to z-dog and the three were quick to holl up lo’ak. Purposely stepping in z-dogs face as he reaches the top.

“Now help us up, pretty boy” she demands while reaching her hand up.

“Sorry, but my hands are full” tulkun smirks while holding the satchel and makes a run for it.

“What the- TULKUUUUUUUUUUN!!”

That was close, way too close for tulkun’s liking. Tsu’tey was close to seeing his face. If he did then its game over. For now, he will have to lie low, no doubt his family will be worried to death about him. His parents are way too protective. They will be even more once he gets back. Not something he looks forward to.

For now, he found a little cave that was actually a little entryway to a tower. How long was that there?

Not giving much thought he was quick to climb the tower and shut the doors[?] windows. Finally being able to be at peace, he opens the satchel to see the golden crown. Sighing in relief.

“Hello at last-”

Darkness was all he saw.

“Who are you and how did you find me?”

Miles demanded to know from the young stranger. Tied to the chair, miles made sure his long dreads were enough to make sure the invader didn't escape. Who the hell was he to just climb into someone's tower unannounced? And talking to themselves?

Father was right, there are crazy people out there.

“Is this….all hair?” the stranger asked as he looked at his long dreads.

“Hey! I asked you first! Answer!” miles shouts. Holding the pan tightly, he points it at the stranger. His little friend, payakan climbs on the pan, looking dead in the eyes of the stranger.

“Is that a blue lizard…?” the stranger asks another question. Do all strangers keep on asking questions?

“Hey! I get to ask questions here, not you! Got that?” Miles narrows his eyes trying to look as threatening as possible. The stranger rapidly shook his head agreeing.

Miles starts to walk around the stranger while swinging his pan.

“So stranger, have you come for my hair? Cut it? Sell it?” he begins to accuse.

The stranger looks at him confused.

“What? No! Look, I came here to hide because a horse is on my ass! And now I have to-wait wait! My satchel! Where is my satchel!?”

Crossing his arms, confidently smiling, miles responds “I’ve hidden in, somewhere where you will never find it”

The stranger looks to his left, “It's hidden in that pot, isn't it?”

BANG!

Tulkun woke up once again, this time feeling something wet in his ear. Turning he sees the weird blue lizard outstretching his long tongue in his ear. Feeling grossed out, he shouts, “STOP THAT!!” startling the lizard.

“Now I’ve hidden it somewhere you’ll never find it” the weird boy says.

“Now back to the main question, how did you find me?” the boy asks again.

“Look, in all honesty, I was running through the forest ok? I have an army at my ass and a horse! Just give me the crown back and I will leave. Alright?” tulkun replies honestly.

The weird boy, or guy since he looks older, stares at him confusingly.

“Wait, you don't want my hair?” he asks.

“Why on earth would I want your hair? Actually, why do you even want your hair this long? Don't you have a knife or scissors in this place?”

The weird guy didn't say anything. Walking away at some distance to talk to his blue lizard friend. Whispering some stuff he couldnt make out. However, using that time to try and free himself. No use, the guy tied him up pretty dang good.

“Alright, it seems you are saying the truth. Now to important matters, look over here” the guy says as he shifts his hair for the chair to move, making him land on his face.

Lifting a curtain aside, the boy reveals a beautiful painting on top of an empty chimney. It showed a dark blue sky with lanterns floating up in the sky.

“Do you know what these are?” the guy asks.

“The lanterns? Yeah, they do that for the lost prince” tulkun says automatically. No real emotion behind it. Holding in his indifferent feelings for that specific day. His face is starting to hurt against the floor. Trying to push himself up, he couldn't hear what the guy said. Until suddenly he was being lifted up.

“I have a deal I want to make,” the weird guy said.

Take him to see the lanterns and in return he gets the crown back. No big deal. Seems simple enough. Except for one thing.

“WOOOOHOOOOOOOO!!

“What have I done?”

“I LOVE THS!!”

“What if he finds out??”

“I DONT CARE!!”

“I am horrible”

“I FEEL GREAT!!”

“I'm going back, i'm a horrible son”

“I AM NEVER GOING BACK!!”

Tulkun didn't think he would also be a babysitter. Damn, and he thought his sister was terrible with mood swings. This weird guy clearly is older than him yet acts just like his baby sister who is 3.

After what felt like centuries, the weird guy calms down but not in high spirits.

“It seems you seem to be in turmoil. Look, it does seem a lot. But from the bits I heard, it seems you got a protective father, leaving without telling, talking to a stranger whom you never met and now going somewhere that you need to rely on said stranger to get there. This is pretty serious stuff you know”

The weird guy just stares at him.

“Part of life you know. Kinda late but it seems you are going through what I like to call “fuck the rules” phase. Personally I hope it's not a phase. Normal stuff” tulkun continues to say while simultaneously shoving the blue lizard off his shoulder.

“Really…?” the guy asks.

“Yup, but this might make your dad upset. Hell, break his heart and crush his soul even. But its fine”

“Wait, you are gaslighting me aren't you” the weird guy was picking up on what tulkun was trying to do.

“I tried” tulkun answered honestly.

“No, we are going to see those lights,” the weird guy says, standing up for himself.

“Oh yeah? What I don't want anymore?” tulkun mocks him.

“I will use this” the pan was pointing at him again.

“Ugh, fine”

“Miles”

“Hm?”

“My name is miles. I forgot to tell you my name earlier” miles says.

“Oh nice….”

“What is your name?” miles asks.

“......its tulkun”

Miles heard that slight hesitation. Perhaps its not his real name.

“Cool, this is payakan. My one and only friend”

Payakan stands on miles’s left shoulder, glaring at tulkun.

“He really doesnt like me, does he?” tulkun eyes at the reptile.

“Eh, he will warm up to you. Now, what was that place called again?” miles claps his hands, getting a little hungry.

“It's called recom port. Best steaks and cold drinks. Hits the spot all the time. And the folks there are super friendly” tulkun says. Smirking inwardly. Surly that place will scare miles back to his little tower.

Wherever miles goes, tulkun can't help but notice how it was so easy to bring in people. The recom outcasts were super friendly towards him! And they hated tulkun! The hell?! Even worse, miles managed to have them all sing for hours non-stop. Tulkun is just so done. He wants the crown and go back home. Screw with whatever punishment his dad will give him. He can take it.

Even worse since miles somehow tamed that demon of a horse.

“Awe, such a good girl aren't you….zeze!” miles coos at the light blue horse. Reading the collar the fowl beast has.

Zeze was wagging her tail like some dog. Ready to comply with whatever miles tells her.

“You cant be serious, that thing is capable of murder!!” tulkun tries to reason with miles.

“Did she kill?”

“Umm…no but I wouldn't doubt it!

Miles rolls his eyes and continues to pet zeze.

“Look, we are tired from walking and zeze seems to have a lot of energy. Why not ride her the rest of the way? It's a win-win. What do you think, big girl? Want to blow off some steam?” Miles suggests to the hell beast who neighs in agreement.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me” tulkun rolls his eyes. He would rather walk on hot rocks than deal with her.

“Come on, it will be easier. Look, I can tell you both dont get along but please just until we get to the lights? Please?” miles pleads.

Zeze seems to side with him, offering her hoof, she and tulkun shake in agreement.

“Wonderful! Now lets get on!” miles says happily as he climbs on zeze. Payakan sitting on zeze’s head getting a good view and tulkun sits behind miles.

“Have you ever rode on a horse before?” tulkun asks.

“Nope, first time! HIYAH!”

Zeze takes off, letting the winds hit their faces and excitement filling their lungs.

It was amazing! Miles has never seen this many people before! And they all live together in smaller yet wider towers? So cool! And the food! So delicious! More books to read, new music to listen to. It was so perfect.

A kind lady even gifted him a small flat with a sun design and a flower. He admires the pretty flower until he sees other people laying their flowers in front of an interesting mural.

“It's for the lost prince” a child says to their baby sibling.

Lost prince?

Miles takes a good look at the mural. There stood two proud looking people. A man and a woman, wearing fancy looking clothing. In the woman's arms was a baby. A child who is smiling and have lovely golden hair and blue eyes.

“Poor baby…” miles mutters. He places his flower on the base of the mural. Whoever the baby is, hopefully he comes back to his family soon.

Night came and tulkun managed to get a small boat for them to the surrounding moat. The lanturn festival was about to begin. Tulkun look to see miles not smiling anymore.

“Hey, you ok..? Feeling excited?” he asks.

“Feeling kind of terrified actually…” miles confesses.

Tulkun tilts his head, “how come?”

“All my life, for as long as I can remember I look at my window and see beautiful stars in the sky. Always wondering what they were. And here I am, about to see the truth….I'm scared to be disappointed”

Tulkun, understanding his new friend, places an arm over his shoulder.

“Nothing wrong with being disappointed. In the end, you will get to see what is more than the stars as you call them”

Miles smiles a bit, “and what if they are? What then?”

“That is the fun part I guess. It opens a path for a new journey”

Neytiri straights jake’s outcoat, making him presentable. Her eyes meet his. Sadness and sorrow are all there is. No words are needed to be said. She knows. What is supposed to be a joyous day has now become a sad tradition for all.

They meet their children on the balcony, all holding their own lanterns. Yet, neytiri and jake notice their third son is missing. It was just putting more salt on the wound.

Taking the lead, they light up their lantern and together they let it go. The royal children followed. Moments after, all of the kingdom let go of their lanterns. The darkened sky now filled with lanterns, all goes at their own pace.

Neytiri and jake hold each other close while holding their children. Their hopes depleting each year. The hope that one day, their first child would return home. That hopefully their son would find these lanterns and use them as a guide back to them.

But its been 18 years. A grown adult by now.

They make sure their children know of their big brother, and how he would have loved each and everyone of them. Their children never doubted that.

“He will come home this time, right mama….?” The first princess asks her mother as she stares at the lanterns. Every year she asks the same question. Every year, neytiri answers the same thing.

“He must”

Miles was in awe. The lanterns were so beautiful! Each one was different yet all burned brightly.

“I finally know the truth…” he says.

Tulkun hears this……

“Lo’ak” he speaks.

“Hm?”

“My real name is Lo’ak, tulkun was just a disguise name…” lo’ak admits.

“Why?” miles asks, curious to know.

“My family….well my parents to be precise. Are very protective. Like super protective. Cant go anywhere without someone spying on me or my siblings…” lo’ak says with what sounds like defeat in his voice.

“You see….I have an older brother and two younger sisters. My parents however, had a son before my big brother neteyam. Spider was his name. My parents said he was only 3 months old before a dark cloaked guy took him away. They never knew who he was or why the stranger took him. That night traumatized them for life. Dont get me wrong, it is sad. He would have been 4 or 5 years old by the time I was born. Its just….” lo’ak couldn't continue.

“So that is why you are rebellious…wanting to get out of their tight hold. Needing to breathe and just take risks for the fun of it” miles finishes for him.

Lo’ak looks at miles’s long hair.

“Yeah…but what about you? You never told me why you lived in that tall, isolated tower” lo’ak asks, wanting to change the subject.

“My dad….he too is overprotective. Growing up, he tells me all of the dangerous things that happen outside of the tower. Baby stealing ghouls, men with sharp teeth, diseases, blood sucking monsters. I was terrified. But in reality…he kept me there because of my hair…”

Miles moves his dreads to the side to reveal a short dark strand of hair.

“My hair….is what is keeping me alive. If cut, it affects my health. He doesn't know why, niether do I but…something like that, it has to be protected”

“So….you never left that tower?” lo’ak was astounded. Miles, a grown adult at this point, has never seen what life has to offer?

Miles nodded.

“And you still want to go back…?”

Miles looked to be contemplating on that question. But before could be said, near the dock was two unpleasantly familiar people.

“There, it will be just like it never happened” his dad says.

Miles was back at the tower. Any traces of him being outside was gone. Lo’ak left him and took the crown. Leaving him vulnerable to two dangerous strangers who wanted to cut his hair for higher value. If it wasn't for his dad finding him, who knows what could have happened.

“Hey, I will make that coup you like so much, that will lift your spirits up” his dad was exiting his room.

“Look son, I know it seems unfair but you have to understand. Not everything is bright and good. Terrible people who sees any trace of goodness, they will destroy it no matter what” with that, he goes downstairs.

Leaving miles alone. He stares at the paintings he has done on the ceiling. Why do they look familiar?

Pulling out the little flag he still kept, he compares the sun to the familiar shapes.

“What the…?” why do his painting have the sun symbol?

Suddenly, he got a massive headache.

Memories of a past he didn't know he had came flooding in.

“WAIT WAIT DAD!! YOU DONT GET IT!!” lo’ak shouts as he tries to fight back his uncle figure tsu’tey. The other night he was knocked out by z-dog and lyle, tying him on a canoe with the crown. Now being punished, he was to be sent to a neighboring kingdom as a form of punishment for stealing a royal crown.

Jake, having had enough of his son's lies, false promises, and fake sympathy, didnt want to hear him anymore.

“Hopefully this will teach you a lesson son. You knew how important that crown was. Stealing was the last straw "Jake says. His family beside him, none wanting lo’ak to go but it was necessary.

“NO!! YOU DONT GET IT!! THEY TOLD ME!! HE IS ALIVE!! DAMN IT!! IM SORRY UNCLE!!” with a quick hit with his head, lo’ak managed to free himself from tsu’tey. Acting fast he made a run for it.

“ZEZE!!” he calls out. The majestic yet beastly horse answers his call, he climbed onto her.

Tsu’tey calls his soldiers to follow lo’ak, his family yelling to come back. “HE IS ALIVE!! SPIDER IS ALIVE!!” was all lo’ak said before zeze ran faster, heading straight to the forest. This whole time, this whole time! His big brother is alive!! He has a lot to make up for right now, lo’ak needs to get him out of the tower and away from the stranger miles calls ‘father’.

There was so much blood. Miles didnt know how to heal him. He wanted to save lo’ak, save him, tell him of his newfound revelation! Yet his dad has him tied to chains like some feral animal.

“That is enough! You are going somewhere far more hidden! Somewhere where you won't even see the sunlight!” his father says. Miles can hardly recognize him anymore. All he sees is a scary, tall man who sees miles as some golden item rather than a human being.

Yet miles fought back, as best as he could. Lo’ak is dying,he needs to do something!

“Let me heal him please!” miles begs. Tears ran down his face.

“Let me heal him, and you and I will be together. Just like we always have. Please dad, let me save him”

His dad saw lo’ak laying still, thinking he won't last long. He ties a chain to his ankle, just incase the brat gets any ideas of following them. Miles was quick, panicking but doing his best to close the wound.

“Miles…” lo’ak whispers weakly, “dont…I can let you…” he tries his hardest to say,

“I cant let you die…” miles whispers, more tears falling out.

Lo’ak gets closer as if to tell miles something, however, in a surprise move, he cuts miles hair.

“Lo’ak!! What did you…!!” his was was quick to turn a dark brown, his dreads also losing their golden color.

“NO!!! WHAT DID YOU DO?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU HAVE DONE!?” the mad man shrieks. In a hurry he tries to collect the hair, not carrying where he is stepping. He tangles himself in the dreads, unknowingly wrapping himself. In a daze he trips.

Over the tower’s window.

Falling to his death. His screams are now silent.

Miles couldn't comprehend what just happened. Yet he had to focus on lo’ak.

“Im sorry….brother….” lo’aks arms went limp, his eyes closed.

“No no no!! Stay with me lo’ak! Please!!” miles cries out loud. Now he truly is alone. No friend, no father, no one. Just himself. He lets his tears fall on lo’aks wound.

“Please save him…!! I beg you!! Save him!!” miles didnt know to who he was calling to. To himself? To some holy being? Perhaps he was already losing his mind now that he lost his golden hair. Or perhaps, not all is lost…

Bright light flooded the tower from the outside. Its light radiating warmth, reminds miles that of the lanterns. Bright yet gentle. It was like being swaddled in a blanket. The light surrounded him and lo’ak. His hair, although now messy, its golden color returned. The light touches lo’ak’s wound, sealing it, healing him.

Just as it has appeared, the light has dispersed. As if it never did.

Holding in his breathe, miles looks over at lo’ak, hoping to see something.

A cough was heard, more coughs, and a scruff.

“Oh fuck…did I hit something?” Lo’ak asks as he sits up.

Miles shouts in happiness. Hugging lo’ak tightly, he says his thanks to the mysterious light that saved his friend. His brother.

Quickly, neytiri and jake along with their children make haste to the balcony where tsu’tey said was where he was waiting.

They all hold hands tightly, reassuring one another that this is real, its not a dream.

Opening the doors, they see lo’ak. Beside him was someone jake and neytiri thought they would never see.

A young, tall man with short yet very familiar golden hair stood before them. Wide, sparkly blue eyes that can rival the sky. His familiar smile, his aura radiant of warm happiness. This is him.

“Spider…” neytiri whispers, getting closer to him. Touching his cheeks, his hands, his ears, hair, everything.

“It is you…my spider, my son” she confirms. A mother could never mistake her child.

Hugging him close, she cries out in joy. Jake followed soon after her. Holding his son after so many years. Kissing his head, hearing his heartbeat. Their son has returned.

“You did find him…” jake says to lo’ak.

Lo’ak smiles, joining in the hug, not saying much as to let his parents have this moment.

“Come come my children, meet your big brother! He is home!” neytiri gestures her three other children, neteyam, kiri and tuk. The three join in one massive group hug.

This is what miles, or now, spider, wanted. To feel truly loved. This is his family, may take some time getting used to, but spider truly felt at home with them. For they are warm and radiant, like that of the sun.

Aaaaaaaaaand that is it for this one! Hope you all liked it! Until next time! See ya!

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egg-emperor · 2 months ago

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in today's twt recommends me shit I'm absolutely not the target audience of

actually I DO condone everything evil Eggman does because it's cool and sexy 💜 I'm offended when people assume I *don't* support him in everything he does lol

why would he be my f/o ig I hate everything he's actually about, to the point I can't even enjoy it from an entertainment perspective because he's evil? skill issue

also man all the replies are filled with "even tho they're bad people I can fix them!!! or shit like this reply

and my god if this isn't exactly what everyone who has a problem with me embracing Eggman's canon evilness does. they're saying the quiet part out loud

like by your own admission you just genuinely don't even like the character. it's like when I thought I was talking to fellow Eggman fans and they'd tell me they literally didn't like his evil and chose to ignore it- even though his evilness is literally on display 99% of the time he's onscreen

I cannot fathom why you'd call yourself a fan let alone want to self ship with them if you don't get any sense of enjoyment out of them being evil, when it's the whole point and focus on their character as the villain

that og post and all the replies are the finest example of how fandom puritanism is ruining how people see villains, their entire purpose and the way we are actually supposed to like them and see them as entertaining. it's not a moral obligation to condemn their evil actions. ignore them, or "headcanon them away into oblivion"

anyway you'll never catch me doing this. I'm a fan of and self ship with a villain because they are a villain and I also actually like the character. if I wanted a good guy I'd like a good guy and I don't need to try to change an already existing character into something I'd like more

I adore the evil bastard Eggman just the way he is and have no shame. I support him following his evil dreams and I'd happily be his partner in crime if he asked it of me lol 💜

#dr eggman #eggman #dr robotnik #dr. eggman #self shipping #self ship #villain f/o #f/o #self ship community #self shipping community #my post #eggman is evil

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butterfrogmantis · 6 months ago

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Religion is a bit tricky in the Butterverse. Since humans exist, human religions exist, and some are even referenced through Smurfs and other characters. But unlike certain universes, there isn't one 'true' religion or god. Instead, there are 4 true deities - Mother Nature, Harold, Father TIme .. and Death.

Also CW for some messed up stuff right here

Mother Nature and Father time are pretty well known and honoured, even worshipped in some cases. Harold is looked to as the man in the moon as as symbol. Death is. An interesting figure. Smurfs - or any race for that matter - don't have a personal connection with Death the same way they might have a tea part with Mother Nature because seeing Death in of itself is an omen. And they sort of like it that way. Death is an enigma. Feared or respected, Death is neither kind nor cruel. It is simply inevitable. Indeed, it's the only true equal of the world. At least, for most.

Necromancer Smurf was born in an ancient village to a village doctor and a village mortician. Even as a child there was something a little bit different, he didn't talk for years after the expected time for the first word ceremony, didn't play with the other kids, and had an odd fascination with the gruesome elements to his parent's work, including the graveyard business. The Smurfling's father died unexpectedly whilst he was quite young, and even then he showed very little emotion to the loss of his father. He'd been in the room when it happened, supposedly felt the presence of an omnipresent figure. His fascination with the death itself far outweighed any grief he may or may not have had.

His obsession become more sinister - strange things kept happening. Animals going missing, random bones disposed of in the garbage around Smurf village. And as a teenager, the worst of all was uncovered. Necromancer was caught graverobbing at his father's burial sight - and when questioned, simply responded that he simply needed a body to work with, and his long deceased father clearly wasn't using his.

Necromancer was placed into solitary confinment, and his hut raided. The Smurfs doing the search told horrors of jars with organs, bones, someone's pet that had gone missing last week, clearly dead but somehow breathing … very unsmurfish things. The Smurf leader moved to banish Necromancer for good, but his mother, who had been suffering for years after the loss of her husband - and in spite of the horrors her son had committed, protected him best she could. Both of them became outcasts in their own society, but for Necromancer he didn't care. Perhaps his biggest mercy was when his mother finally passed a few centuries later, he left her grave untouched.

But his appetite for defying death wasn't through, not by a long shot. He could reanimate animals and even plants for certain periods but he needed something bigger, better. He knew the village would exile him as soon as he touched one of his own so he sought through records in the public library until he discovered, by chance, an old journal belonging to a pirate Smurf named Captain Bluebeard, amongst who's stories was a retelling of a great treasure heist, and a lift of a young pirate who was lost on the island and who's body wasn't recovered. This was the opportunity Necromancer needed - a deserted island and a lone body he intended to reanimate. This could be his finest hour.

-----

Short intermission now to listen to Rafflesia talk about the types of undead! :)

-----

*"You may not know me, Skeleton Smurf. But I know you - do not be afraid. Although the nature of your existance defies me, this was not your fault. My quarrel is with the one who's lifeforce sustains you, and in doing so has prevented us from meeting. In my kingdom, you were a worthy subject"

Skelly looked up at the empty eye sockets of the crow skull upon Death's face.

"I was in your kingdom? Then perhaps .. you could tell me who I was?"

Death sighed, seeming almost apologetic.

"I'm afraid … that might compromise your current situation. I do apologise, there's little in my power to help you as you are now. But that is not why I am here, Skeleton. I may no longer have the power to bring you back to my kingdom, but I am still a diety. And since you have been wronged in many ways, I would like a chance - however slim - to make it up to you."

Skelly looked curious, so Death continued.

"I am offering you a wish. A single wish, to be used at any time. Know that there are some things even outside of my power. But as long as holds, or as long as it takes, you have this promise"*

Skelly meets Death ,, part 2! They have a gift for him.

Death, Necromancer, Rafflesia and Skelly are mine / Franchise The Smurfs

#smurfs #my art #the smurfs #BFM oc: Skelly #BFM oc: SmurfRafflesia #BFM oc: Necromancer #BFM oc: Death

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gildedcageif · 1 year ago

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💗 GROWING HEART - if they have a crush, is it noticable? what changes when they're in love?

Ahmad: He believes he is really subtle, but is absolutely obvious about it. Overnight he is suddenly wearing only his finest of clothing and his hair is combed to perfection. He finds the stupidest of excuses to be near the person he likes. Suddenly, he has a bunch of gifts to give out also.

Like "Oh, look what I have hear. A million dollar ring I just found in my dresser randomly. Shame I can't keep it. It would look great in your finger. Want to have it?" or "anyway so I wrote a love poem about this person who looks like you, sounds like you, acts like you and generally just is you... oh my Annur, how did you figure out it is devoted to you? You are so smart. Here have a family heirloom by the way"

When my man is smitten, you can see it from another plane of existence. He is smiling, he is grinning, he is pestering their lover with gifts and whenever they are not around, he stares wistfully out of the window. Meanwhile he thinks he is super covert.

Selim: Selim is an expert at hiding his emotions. He thinks he is at least. He is kind of like Ahmad in that way.

He tries to hide how he feels, but then literally just stares at his lover the whole time like he wants to consume them whole.

When he falls in love, he becomes more considerate for lack of a better word. He leaves pauses in conversation desperately trying to find the right thing to say in order to pull them closer but also not too close for comfort. He thinks about them throughout. About small things he can do to help them out. His love will mainly be shown in how he helps them with their tasks. You have lots of work? No, you don't anymore. Some other concubine is bullying you? Oh no, they tripped and died.

It is a... unique way to express love, but it's still love.

Nazli: Nazli is actually good at hiding her emotions. You probably won't realise her emotions have changed until she tells you to your face.

The main changes will come from how much time the two of you spend together. All of your duties and tasks change suddenly and now they all involve serving her in some way- and thus spending all day with her. Then even at morning and night, she wants you to break fast and dine by her side.

She, similar to her son, also becomes very generous with gifts. Jewels, clothes, furs, art pieces, anything and everything that comes to mind is yours. Some of the clothes she has actually sewn herself!

Meryem:

You will know when she has a crush because she will literally come up to you and tell you. Girlie does not waste time.

But even beforehand, if she tries to hide it, she kind of does a terrible job at it. She is constantly smiling and giggling and blushing and stumbling all over her words. She constantly seems to gravitate towards her crush, finding an excuse to be around them and touch them.

When in love, she is the most affectionate person in existence. She wants to hold and exchange kisses and to brush your hair for hours. She even starts coordinating outfits with you so you can always match wherever you go.

The main tell is that she is constantly smiling. Like the world could be burning down and she is just giggling cause "isn't her love the cutest?"

She will also try to get you to bond with her son, Mustafa. She wants you two to have a good relationship so she will constantly be inviting you for bedtime stories or to play at the gardens.

Emil De Angelis

Emil is really, really good at hiding it. It helps that half the time he is so deep in denial that he genuinely misses the signs that he is in love or crushing on someone. When he does realise, he basically goes through an existential threat session.

When in love, Emil is not exactly like a talking feelings kind of lover. He may never say the actual three words, or say them very rarely, but that does not mean he does not feel that.

When in love, he will build whole ass statues and paintings devotes to their lover. Many of those will never see the light of day. They are not meant for the public eye. No they are meant for him to immortalise their love. Not to be feasted on by people who won't understand the magnificence of their love. (He is dramatic like that)

He generally becomes much more relaxed. He is glad to just lay down with them early in the morning and talk about utter nonsense. He does not mind wasting time so much if it is with them.

Helena

Helena is really obvious for a specific reason. She is a massive flirt. She will spend all her time trying to butter you up, using pick up lines to try and charm you.

The way you truly know she is in love though is when she gets flustered. Helena is a player. She likes to flirt, she likes the game, she likes to play around. The result of having so much experience is you don't get flustered too easily.

When she blushes, when she stumbles over her words, that is when she is hooked.

When in love, Helena wants to share everything with her lover. She wants to see them as they are, to understand them completely. And she wants the same to go for them. The total truth of it, nothing more, nothing less.

She wants to cuddle and joke and to go on wild adventures. She is the type to make grand gestures. Standing outside their window and singing to them type of energy.

Thanks for the ask!

#ro ask #ro #asks #anon ask #anon #ask #gildedcage if #gildedcageif

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popculturebuffet · 1 year ago

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Richard Moll Tribute: Batman TAS Review: Two-Face Parts 1 and 2 (Comission for WeirdKev27)

In Loving Memory of Richard Moll 1943-2023 Just one year. Just one damn year after loosing Kevin Conroy another treasured member of the Batman The Animated Series Cast passes. I wasn't expecting this and i'm hoping with all I got this isn't a trend.

While Kevin requested a tribute for Moll it was an easy request: While I sadly can't do a tribute for every tragic death as my schedule is packed, it's why poor Matthew Perry didn't get one even though his death is also truly gutting, but Moll is an actor I loved and still deeply repsect and I'm proud to honor him.

Ironically I first became a fan of Moll not thorugh two face, who I liked fine but wasn't really a faviorite of mine yet, but through his other famous roll that came before this: Baliff Bull Shanon on the NBC sitcom Night Court

If you haven't seen Night Court it's free on freevee and amazon prime so please do when your done here, but for the short version it was a sitcom about Harry Stone, a young judge who was both a goofy prankster and a kind, wise man who judged fairly and always tried to help his staff, played by the sadly also late Harry Anderson.

Bull was big, strong.. but also entirely kind and goofy. He had a childlike sense of wonder to him, missed the point often, but refrenshingly for a sticom he wasn't portrayed as a complete idiot, having a lot of emotinal intelgence. He was simply oblivious. And while VERY sweet he had a habit of reminding people, paitcuarly dan the court's prosectuer and sex pest, that he had his job for damn good reason. Moll was a treasure and never lost his step in the roll though sadly he declined to return for the recent revival and now never will.

So it suprised me when I found out Moll was Harvey all this time. It wasn't that Moll lacked talent or even him doing something after night court, he'd done plenty. It was more the range, perfectly playing Harvey in all the forms the show gave him: early on as bruce's pepppy friend, as a man grappling with his split personality in these episodes, as Harvey's brutal personality.. and later as a horrifying combo of the two as two face. All distinct, all using a diffrent vocal tone, all great.

So we're honoring his finest performance. So join me to remmeber Richard Moll under the cut as Harvey Dent grapples with the other person in the mirror.. and both become something else.

One touch i've always liked about Batman TAS is that Harvey was a recurring character before this two parter. It was only two episodes, On Leather Wings and Pretty Poison, but the former was a nice cameo to show he exists and the latter really showed off Harvey and Bruce's friendship, their easy report, the hint they had a long history we were never privy to, and it made the stakes higher when Harvey got poisoned by Ivy. It's remakrable how much legwork that one episode did to setting up this one. You can watch one without the other, Batman TAS is still largely episodic and one of the best shows ever at pulling that off... but the two enrich each other. While Batman TAS wasn't the first to try and have Harvey Dent around before he got faced, Batman 1989 ATTEMPTED it but then didn't bring back Billy Dee Williams and retconned Harvey to be Tommy Lee Jones because fuck me I guess, it's the work i'd credit with popularizing it as the Long Halloween and the Dark Knight after it made sure to show us who harvey was BEFORE, which makes what he becomes that much more tragic, that Bruce didn't just loose an ally.. he lost a friend.

It also makes what we see at the top of the episode have even more weight: Harvey having a troubled dream as he's harassed by a shadowy version of himself with a growly voice flipping a coin. Harvey is only freed from his nightmare by his assitant Carlos, who informs him the raid they've been planning is on boys.

The target is one of Rupert Thorne's gambling dens.

For those who've forgotten this guy, Rupert was the series mafia presence, head of Gotham's organized crime and slimeball, played by John Vernon aka the dean from animal house aka the character that inspired the dean from futurama. Rupert is the perfect arch enemy for a pre face harvey: it's easy to arrest a guy who kidnaps the police on christmas day after rocketing out of his aslyum on a christmas tree, it's harder to arrest someone who covers his tracks.

It's also hard because Throne's men have a bunch of high end weaponry stockpiled in there including grenade launchers. Thankfully Bat beats Grenade as bruce decided to pitch in to help with his buddy's relection campaign, helping clean house to make it easier on the police. I also like the touch of Harvey being ambivilant, not against Batman's presence but not really cordinating with him like Gordon would.

Unfortunately one of the goons makes the mistake of taunting harvey... and that wakes up the other person. As it turns out Harvey has Disociative Identity Disorder, and his alter, big bad harv, is all of the anger Harvey's surppressed his whole life condensed into a person. And Big Bad Harv suckers the goon before nearly beating him to death, with Harvey waking up from the episode horrified and making a lame excuse. As if things weren't tense enough Rupert Throne's decided to do a bit of digging into Harvey's life: he's become too big a thorn in his side and the irony's a bit too much to swallow on that, so he has Candice, his right hand minon look into that.

We cut to Harvey giving a speech at a big campaign rally Bruce is throwing. It also brings me to Batman The Animated Series Version of bruce who I like a lot: instead of playing up his uselessness or just barely using the identity when necessary, this bruce is a bruce wayne I like to see: a philamprohist who still fights to help people. It makes hiding he's batman harder sure.. but it shows Bruce more as another side of who he is rather than a mask he wears because society won't let him go around beating up people in a mask all day every day.

At the party is Grace, Harvey's girlfriend who wants to bump it up to fiance. It's unknown just HOW long it's been since pretty poison but given Harvey was willing to marry Ivy after a week, it's on brand for him to jump into life alterting decisions and he makes it clear he only hasn't because he's busy trying to get reelected, not getting that the engagment would probably bump up his raitings but whatever. Grace is mostly here so Harvey has more to loose. She's the weakest part of the episode, only being there so Harvey has a love intrest to weep at what he's become when we already have bruce. Though given this was the 90's I woudln't be shocked if Fox wanted to give Harvey a case of the not gays.... which come on. Why WOULDN'T it make sense for Two-Face to be BI-Sexual. It fits too well. Like Batman giving oral.

Every party needs a pooper though and the pooper for Harvey's party is a phone call: THrones men are being let go as someone "misfiled" a warrant.

So naturally out goes the good harvey, in comes the Big Bad Harvey who straight up THROWS his assitant carlos into an ice sculpture cleaving the thing in two.

And nearly beating BRUCE up this time when Bruce tries to calm him down. It's only grace begging him to stop that brings back standard Harvey.

Bruce didn't get to be the world's greatest detective by ignoring the obvious , so he goes to talk to harvey .And I absoutely LOVE Bruce's attitude in this scene.. the man was almost punched in the face by his best friend.. and instead of raging against him or recoling in horror he runs up to help him, recognizing this wasn't just harvey flipping out, but something deeper, correctly guessing Harvey has some sort of mental illness and needs help.

And as someone with some mental illnesses and a neurotypical brain not helping either of them, I really like how the episode treats Harvey's illness. The talk about it has aged REALLY well: While it was even MORE stigmatized back then, Bruce's reaction to all of this is recommend Harvey get help and then be utterly PROUD when he finds out Harvey already is doing the work, it's just taking time and the pressure of being a public figure AND hunting a crime lord really isn't helping. Harvey is treated as he should be: as a man who needs help and is struggling with it, not as some monster but as a man who simply needs help after a childhood trauma left him with an extra guest in his head. Harvey is never accused for what Big Bad Harv does and while Big Bad Harv's actions are seen as awful, as they should, no one ever blames Harvey for them if they know. It's something I struggle with: I also have big freakouts where I can't control myeslf. Diffrent type as i'm still ME when it happens, but I can still relate to this episode and harvey's struggle of both letting his pride down to ask for help and worrying about what people would think despite getting therapy being entirely normal.

Unforutnely Candice overheard this as we cut to Harvey in sessoin with his psychatrist, Nora Crest. Nora is a wonderful therapist, helping harvey slowly and making it clear what Big Bad Harv does isn't his fault. She also draws BBH out to try and help manage him better. Unfortunately.... she fails to recognize that Big Bad Harv dosen't WANT to be managed, want to be locked away, or want Harvey to come back again and in the most horrifying display yet trashes Nora's office, breaks a window and tries to attack her before she undoes the hypnosis. Again it's done well as Nora simply misunderestimated HOW bad things were and while sh'es trying her best.. .as she puts it Harvey NEEDS to check himself into a hospital. And I love how that's not portrayed as a bad thing: A dire circumstance, but we've seen how bad harv is. She's not suggesting locking him up in arkham or anything drastic, she just wants him where he can get help and where big bad harv can't hurt people.

Ultimately what holds Harvey back... is a combination of pride and society itself. In a better world Harvey going in to get treatment after two public outbursts would be seen as a heroic act and he'd win the election. Sadly we don't live in that world and Harvey correctly fears the voters would just sterotype him as crazy and he'd loose the election. He TRIES to mitgate it by having more sessions an da reduced work schedule and it works to a point.. but it's clear it's putting a band-aid on an open wound.

This meatball mental surgery DOES enough to get Harvey through the election, and almost to propose to grace.. but sadly dosen't last as Thorne has stolen his medical files and wants a meeting. Once again it's not Harvey that's the issue.. it's that society won't accept that he NEEDS help and it's OKAY to get it. And Throne's all too happy to exploit it.

Thankfully for Harvey his best friend is batman, so Bruce is able to follow Harvey and put a tracker on the car he's taken in. Thorne makes the BOLD decision to confront the man whose DiD is shown to be triggered by extreme stress... in a remote room with only a few guards, only one of them actually armed, and mock his mental illness. We also find out WHY Harvey has DiD: as a kid he hit a bully in the face. Said bully wound up in the hospital and Harvey blaming himself vowed never to be angry again. Turns out it was apendcitis. Hence Big Bad Harv.

And unfortuantely for Harvey's future and Throne's present.... Big Bad Harv comes out. He does manage most of the thugs, with some bat help, but given whose origin this is.. you know this can't end well. And it dosen't: in a truly gutting moment Harvey rushes after Throne, the goon from earlier tries to fire.. and in stopping the guy batman accidently directs his fire at a power coupling in the factory, causing an explosion. Harvey Dent as we knew him .. is gone.

Some time later Harvey's in the hospital in bad shape, with doctors promising they'll restore him with plastic surgery. Instead... we get

I know he was heavily burned, and that his face would be hard to fix.. but how did you think "make him look like a blue goblin man with a bigger eye on half his face" was EVER going to go down well. Does oscorp own this hospital?

While I joke, because i'm a goofy bastard, I do love the nod to Batman 89, with Harvey asking for a mirror in the same way as Jack Napier and Lisa Simpson... only instead of laughing he throughs a raging fit and then gapes in horror when his new visage makes his fiance pass out.

So thus ends part one. One last thing I want to note is how LITTLE batman is in this. Ther'es an action bit with bruce at the beginning of the episode and later at the climax. That's it. It's something TAS did a lot, having a more methodical build up before the third act is all I AM THE NIGHT, but it feels diffrent here as we aren't WITH bruce for most of the episode. He's still present and important to the plot, but he's a supporting character in Harvey Dent's story. There's no breaking things down with alfred, no break from the tragedy of Harvey Dent, and it's why the episode works so well. This isn't a Batman story yet.. it's Harvey Dents.

Part 2, naturally, splits time between both men as both go on their own journey. It's 6 months later and the man who was once Harvey dent has abandoned his old names: No more Harvey Dent, upstanding DA or Big Bad Harv, Harvey Dent's anger and hatred given shape and form... the two have merged. It's something I never noticed before till tv tropes pointed it out: Fitting his dual nature Two Face is a bit of both: he's aggressive, rageful, and quick to anger, berating his twin thugs when they go off script. He'd of killed them by now but damn can they belt a cover of Don't Pull Your Love

youtube

Yet we see a tactical side that just wasn't present in Big Bad Harv.. but was in harvey, with the raid being his idea and his attacks on thorne being calculated, using every bit of info on his operations Harvey ever aquiried but going outside a law he no longer belivies in. Two-Face is a new personality.. and a fairly haunted one.

He also naturally now has his gimmick, using coin flips to decide his decisions, hence why he hasn't seen grace in a while as the coin keeps telling him no. After all he lost, after all that happened he now belivies only in chance... the only justice left. And given the system allowed thorne to thrive while Harvey sacrficed his health, his time and ultimately who he was to stop him only to get nowhere.. it's hard not to see why.

It's what, once again, makes this work: it's not just Harvey's DiD that turned him into Two-Face. IT's the main cause, sure, but the regular Harvey still had an obessive, vengeful streak about him: he may of locked his anger away.. but he still hunted thorne, obessed over the case and put beating thorne over his own well being. Being DA was important, beating thorne was important.. but it wasn't worth loosing himself. He was doing the work, had he taken his doctor's advice and checked himself in.. Harvey may of been okay. He wouldn't of had the office but he'd have his mind and the love of his life. Now only rage and a determinatoin to destroy thorne remain.

Thorne naturally isn't taking this sitting down. He has some shit to throw around in anger dammit. After months of Two Face hitting him hard then fading away into the night he puts out a bounty: a million a face. And Cadance, being sneaky and what not, sets her self on the path to the moolah by pretending to be a cop and giving grace a tracker.

Meanwhile Bruce, naturally, is also doing pretty bad. In his dreams Harvey cries out to bruce asking "Why couldn't you save me?"... and Bruce has no answer.. nor one when his own father asks "WHy couldn't you save us son?" Once again Bruce has lost someone he cares about. And while with his parents the guilt isn't warranted, it was a random gunman and he wa sa children, you can see WHY he has it here: You can just feel Bruce replaying the moment he tackled the gunman, again, and again and again, thinking of all the ways he coudl've done it BETTER, all the ways that don't end in Harvey becoming Two Face. All the ways he should be BETTER. We know it was just an accident but Bruce.. can't accept it. He has to fix this, he has to save harvey from himself.

Harvey's decided enough fucking around. He's gotten Thorne weak enough, it's time for the killing stroke. Only Harvey isn't being THAT merciful: he COULD kill Thorne, but like any good super villian Twoey has a sense of irony: Thorne ruined his life and reputation, it's only fair Two-Face do the same

So TF and his minons raid a place where THorne has his most secure files, the ones that outline everything. YOu know your standard maffia macguffin. Bruce naturally shows up ... but tragically he can't help someone who dosen't want to be helped, a harsh lesson of the episode: Harvey is buried deep within two face, impossibly tangled with big bad harv. There's the possiblity he could become harvey again, but he has to want to. But all that's left in harvey is a want for revenge.

Batman does at least spot a pattern: all the clubs and establishments are two themed, and thus finds his hideout, Club Deuce. Unfortunately he's not the only one as Two Face finally decides to see Grace, who thinks the police would be genuinley invested in the health of someone with a mental illness

And triggers the signal. Grace almost gets through to harvey who starts out wearing.. this

Grace takes it off, almost convinces him to get help.. then Thorne busts in

Thorne manages to ransom grace so he can get the files.. and then plans to just shoot everybody because Two Face was stupid to trust him. Thankfully it's time for the bat to make his big entrance, and our hero, villian protagnist and cardboard cutout clean house. Well okay Grace takes out Candance as is standard catfight protocol, but props to her for contributing.

It ends with Thorne in a chadelear and Harvey about to finish this. Bruce begs Two Face not to as there's no coming back from this.... but Two Face dosen't trust int he law anymore and Batman certainly hasn't finished off this son of a bitch, so he plans to play count the bullets.

How Batman stops him.. is creative as it is heartbreaking. When Two Face flips.. batman dumps a bunch of other silver dollars, stolen earlier in the ep, in. Two Face is paralized.. and Batman and Grace are left to mourn what they've lost. The episode ends somberly. No one won here: Thorne is still out there, Harvey is in arkham.. and all bruce can do is flip a coin himself into a wishing fountain.. and HOPE his friend can one day recover. It's all he has left, the same cruel fate his friend is now servant to.

So as you can tell Two-Face is a banger two parter and one of Batman TAS' best. Moll is spellbinding the whole damn time, playing all three versions of harvey perfectly, while Kevin Conroy gets some graet acting himself in both acts, as Bruce trying to be supportive.. and as the Bat desperately trying to save his friend. It's tight, gripping and a masterpiece. Check it out now, thanks for reading.. and rest in piece Richard. Thanks for giving us so much joy, so much sorrow.. and so much of you

#richard moll #batman #batman the animated series #bruce wayne #two face #harvey dent #animation #superheroes #dc comics #hbo max

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o-kaythislooksbad · 1 year ago

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@ailesswhumptober day 4: hiding an injury / betrayal / lying [does lying by omission count as lying? maybe. does clark hate that bruce knows about his past with lex? of course. does bruce think their relationship is a betrayal? absolutely. aka bruce finds out about kon's origins, and is not having a good time right now. adjacent to the titans fic, mostly just an exercise in writing m and dick as bros, and angsty superbat sharing a braincell]

"does supes know?" m asks, watching his husband throw kon into the air and catching him like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"yeah. he's visiting the cave, though the bat's barely talking with him. guy can really hold a grudge." dick yawns, then takes a sip of his coffee. it really is too damn early for this conversation, especially with the amount of people in the tower who can overhear them, either by sound or by thought.

"what's the bat got to do with anything?"

"superman's dna was used to make kon," dick starts, looking into m's eyes to try catching a glimpse of his brain at work. "the man of steel. the guy whose skin cannot be pierced with anything short of kryptonite, which neither luthor nor his associates possessed at the time of the kid's conception."

m's eyes light up. "and batman keep records and contingencies of all potential 'threats' in the cave," m nods. "so he must've sold out our boy in blue. that's cold."

"sure, we'll go with that answer," dick says, pointing at apollo with his mug, then raising it to the man's husband.

"no fucking way," m replies gleefully, "no. fucking. way. people call us the world's queerest as an insult to us and the world's finest, not as a comparison."

"to be fair, a lot of bigoted assholes do refer to you two that way."

- - - -

"a toothbrush? brucie, batsie, baby. love of my life. a toothbrush. one of the most disposable items in existence, as a gesture to your commitment. 'here, take this cheap plastic -"

"- it was three hundred dollars, clark - "

" - as a reflection of my devotion to you. and, as a bonus, i'll sell it to your worst enemy.' thanks a lot, b, i really appreciate it." clark hasn't raised his voice, not once, since his unexpected appearance at the cave, but his disappointment and rage is palpable. he's hovering a few feet above the ground, staring down at bruce, with the red in his eyes a fraction away from turning into laser beams and disintegrating him on the spot.

"it's in your favorite color, and your teeth are much stronger than any human's, clark; i designed it specifically for you." bruce's voice isn't breaking, it's not, because he's the batman and he doesn't get emotional over trivial things like this.

"bullshit!" clark swears, and really, it's almost a shame no one else is hear to catch the big blue boy scout uttering a no-no word. "it was one of your ploys to get my dna, for one of your end-of-the-world plans, and i was a fool to trust you."

"omaha." bruce barely exhales to form the word. clark can hear him, of course, he always can. but clark, bless his heart, is so caught up about the goddamn toothbrush that it takes him a beat to recognize that bruce said the code word.

"- could justify a high price point on a dental - wait. omaha?"

"omaha, smallville. ring a bell?"

"what?" clark asks softly as his feet connect with the stone floor. heat pools in his belly and burns his irises and he can taste the sweat on lex's upper lip.

"come on, clark. you can play the big dumb oaf all you want, but you can't look me in the eyes and tell me you really thought that your dental records would be enough to make him. there's still so much i don't know about your biology, but we both know that it takes more than saliva off a toothbrush to create a child."

#word stuff #fanfic #hbo titans #dick grayson #bruce wayne #midnighter #clark kent #ailesswhumptober2023 #whumptober

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taralen · 1 year ago

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Love...

911 What's your emergency?

I want to know what it's like to feel loved romantically.

I have had at least one person, a girl I used to be friends with, confess she loved me, but I could not reciprocate.

I only like men, so I dated a man.

I thought I would spend a long time with him since we chatted for months before meeting in person. I felt his strong back and stomach and called him my dark angel. (Yeah, I know it's cheesy.) I loved the smell of his [[100% tobacco]] cigarettes, his cool smile, his long black hair, and how he played his guitar to serenade me. I slept in his arms, and it was chaste. We never went further.

I headed back home after two days of long dates and fun. I asked him over the phone: "So, are we official now? Are we dating?" 8^D He paused, then said, "Yes." I nearly screamed. I said "I'm so happy!" before getting off the phone and feeling Bliss (lol ironically his nickname. Hurr.)

I changed my Facebook status to "In a relationship." The girl who later confessed she loved me had an emotional meltdown even though I told her I don't like girls. Made me feel bad, but I don't know what she expected me to do.

However, just a week later, my boyfriend called me back and said he was breaking up with me. I didn't know how to react. We were bonding so well! I asked, "W-Why? What changed? I don't understand!"

He said, "It's me, not you. I'm just some loser working at a corner store here, never going anywhere, but you're in university and well-educated. You'll go places, I won't. I know you're concerned about my health, but I think I'm just naturally underweight. I don't know how to live without soda. I'm sorry."

I sat on my bed, floored. Who breaks up after a week? I told him I didn't care that he wasn't a college student and that he worked at a corner store! I apologized if I didn't meet his expectations, but I really wanted it to work. I asked if I was not attractive.

"Oh, no. You're hot as hell! But that's the problem: you're too good for me! You deserve someone better!"

Someone better? I told him that he was the only one I wanted, but he wouldn't believe me. TOO GOOD for him? Excuse me?

??????????

I cried when the call ended. For the first time ever, I was able to reciprocate feelings back, only to be dumped after a week. My friends and roommates told me he wasn't worth it and that there were better guys out there. They were probably right, but man did that sting.

Oh, if only he could see me now. He thought I'd be some BIG SHOT somewhere; he said it, not me!

If only he knew that we're not so different, him and I. Maybe we could have pulled each other up together!

So many people assume success rather than think of the possibility that something can go wrong. He imagined me in a fancy suit, lounging in an expensive car, not knowing that years later, I don't have my fancy suit anymore and have a used 2016 Honda Accord.

Can I ever find love proper instead of some strange parasocial relationship I have with some guy I watch on the internet who has no idea I exist? In fact, that's sort of waned now, too. Sad, isn't it? This moronic ex was the only one who approached me that wasn't just in it for sex. There has to be a nice man out there, one who can stand beside me and give me a reason to don my finest dress shirts, slip on some fancy shoes, and take my silk clothes to the dry cleaners!

Yeah, I know I'm crazy, but I take a cocktail of medications these days, so sweetheart, don't worry, I am here to play!

By the way, if you're a salesman, you immediately earn 10pts to my love meter. Eheheheh....... [[Yes, I really put this bit on a dating profile.]] HAHA. Still haven't had any luck yet! OTL

I CAN'T SEE OR FEEL ANYTHING WAHHHHHHHHHH

[[4.99]]

#musings #semi vent #true story #free cookie to anyone who can guess what song a reference here #I swear it's not just a certain salesman reference #yes. That really WAS his nickname. And last name. Weird I know #I really want a tailored suit ugh #all my blazers are either too long or short #And don't even get me started on the pants. Can never find any that properly fit!

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askyourwritergrandma · 1 year ago

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Hello there once again! @thewriterscoffee here

I was wondering if anyone had any advice for balancing the characters with the plot?

I know that characters are probably the most crucial aspect of a story and must not be overshadowed by the plot but how could one deal with the internal conflict of a character-especially if it deals with wild thoughts and mental obstacles, that are just as intense as the external conflict if not more so,-and artfully balance it with the external plot?

Especially for genres such as high fantasy where the plot and world building are crucial to the story and can very often take away from the character's internal conflict because of the more magical or dangerous stakes?

Hello there once again! @thewriterscoffee here

I was wondering if anyone had any advice for balancing the characters with the plot?

Hello @thewriterscoffee I literally have no idea how old this ask is because I've honestly not been able to drag my moldering corpse onto the internet for months. Life is a real pain in the ass sometimes, you know.

However, I do have some general advice for this.

This is just a matter of figuring it out as you go. Everyone balances the plot and characters differently especially in those genres that you're referencing because they have different goals. In plot-driven high fantasy the characters exist less to be real people and more to be ideas that support the central plot. Some effort might be made to make them more than an archetype or a symbol/stand in for an idea but also many times there just isn't any effort put in at all.

But you asked specifically about how to balance characters with plot so lets focus on that:

Type your characters flaws and goals to your plot. Say you need Grigori the Finest to overcome the Curse of a Thousand Years and restore peace and quiet to the Kingdom of Slumbertime. Grigori's emotional need cannot be to break the curse directly, but it needs to be something thematically similar and/or adjacent so that when he accomplishes the plot goal (Unleashing the Great Lullaby of Poppins the Merry) he is also fulfilling his emotional need and all of us reading get that big emotional pay off. So maybe Grigori thinks what he wants is to get everyone to take a nap so Master and Mistress Grouch will let him date their daughter Grouchella who he has been longing for since he first set foot in the kingdom. That gets him on the path to fulfill your plot. But along the way you're going to reveal that emotionally he just wants to be seen as something more than a stunningly beautiful man who clearly has nothing but naughty intentions on his mind toward women. He's tired of being this hot all the time, ok and he's not giving you a sexy look that's literally just his face. You also reveal that in order to accomplish his main goal (the Great lullaby) he is going to have to give up something. I mean his good looks here seems to be an obvious thing. But he stumbles along that path because he wants to be seen AS HE IS not to disfigure himself. This will somehow echo with how the curse got started in the first place? everyone's shallow? vain? arrogant? proud? naturally he's going to have a buddy or a love interest that is going to be there at the last minute to tell him that he is seen, valued, loved idk whatever he needs to hear in order to fling open the doors to the Music Room of Olde and wind the Music Box of Impressive Name.

Well great this sounds impossible but you wrote it like it's so obvious. Thanks for that, geez

Practically speaking you are either going to have to choose working on your plot or your character first. I always start with a character but that doesn't mean its always the best way to do it. High Fantasy is very much driven by a theme/message/plot. So start with the general emotion/feeling/mood/message/theme (whichever one you know at the start) and create someone that is as opposite of that as you can manage while still getting them to walk the path you need them to go. Don't be afraid to make them a little more opposite than you think you can handle at first.

Take your oppositional duckling and without thinking about why he is the way he is, just try to figure out how to get him to set foot on the path. Don't come up with ways for the plot to force him, don't just put him there and hope for the best, think what trigger does he need to get involved. Even if its not happily or willingly what would make him participate in your plot.

First step accomplished, you start building him from that moment. If he has to be promised a fat sack of gold, why does he need it? Why does he want it? If he has to be offered a pretty girl's hand in marriage, why is that? If you had to hogtie him and throw him in the back of a caravan of travelling bards, why did he not immediately kill them all upon escape?

As a general rule if you're writing something and you have a character doing a pivotal or important thing simply because you need them to do it for the plot to move forward you're writing to the plot and not the character. That's neither good or bad, it's just accomplishing a different goal.

If you're writing to plot, having your character hit the plot milestones because the plot said so makes sense and you have no issues

If you're writing to character, you need to hit the breaks and take the time to sit and really work out how and/or why the character would do this thing you need to do. It might be you've got a subplot that needs developing or that you need to tweak the plot a bit so that your character can follow it in their own way.

I hope that helps!

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sorcerous-caress · 1 year ago

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I like to make all my Tav's co-exist, I have them "cover" The other companions if the current PC doesn't interact with said companion during that PCs playthrough. Ex: Kira wouldn't be that interested in talking to Gale during her playthrough, so in my Canon I'd have Khal'ian in the party to filter out information about Gale to Kira.

Basically, if that Tav/durge isn't the leader during that playthrough the others get delegated to be walking sparknotes, and or being a companion who's story plays out differently that time around.

As for Kira & Khal'ian, I don’t think they'd get along at first initially.

Kira is the type of person that loves to quickly get under people's skin to sus out their motivations and real personalities; To Kira how someone handles their rage speaks volumes.

She'd see Khal'ian shy/soft demeanor as a challenge to split open (her corruption kink coming in). She'd find cracks in his mask; find the pressure points that make him mad only to find that Khal'ian recedes into himself emotionally instead of getting angry.

Not the type to be dissuaded Kira would switch to trying to dig out secrets,but at the same time she'd find his distance an annoyance.

Khal'ian would find Kira irritating. Not for her remarks, he's heard worse from kin and the digging for secrets he could understand given the circumstances.

Khal'ian would hate how Kira uses her charisma, finds himself green with envy. He'd see how easily Kira can get others to believe in her character then see how instead of making connections, she uses that belief to tear them down. If he had half of her charisma, his life at the monastery would've been so much more bearable.

They'd only start being friendly with each other after fully observing how both sides fight.

Neither one of them can pinpoint which battle it was, but they noticed parts of each other that shined bright.

Khal'ian saw clearly how tactical Kira was in battle; to the unobservant eye it would seem that Kira floundered about like a tom-cat in heat, pulling random gambits out of her boot without any rhyme or reason.

But if he grasped her masks, pulled them apart and cut himself on their jagged edges. It became clear to him that Kira was a highly effective tactician, who calculated each detail down to the finest hair.

A woman who used her charisma to pull the worst out of people not to harm them, but to try to protect them from others and themselves.

It was effective.. but it made Kira seem very lonely as an end result. Khal'ian question her about it once and after the shock was done washing over her face, Kira spoke solemnly.

" Life at sea is hard and being a captain even more so, it's not all Tits n' Rum Khal. If I'm not careful enough with my plans, my own men would have my head on a pike before an enemy even reaches me."

"No, a ship needs a captain who loathes the sacrifice of even a single man. And in order for that to be a viable option, I need to know my crew inside and out; even if they curse me in the end, they'd still be able to breathe to do so.."

And she let out a laugh, one that seems to be too tired for a woman her age.

"Unfortunately for the group, that includes you little dragon. I'm starting to see you as my crew"

And as she sauntered off, Khal'ian swore that he would try and help that weariness, because unfortunately for Kira he's starting to see her as a friend.

I'll talk more about how Kira began to see Khal'ian differently in another ask, alongside talking about Issal ( My Drow Artificer). How she met Khal'ian pre-game, but she has to survive the first hour my Honor run first.

Wyll drabbles are fighting their way out of WIP hell

-githzerai anon

You really know your characters well and put a lot of thought into them and the world building! It's impressive

Good luck with the wip anon!

#♡Githzerai anon

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tsuki-sennin · 1 year ago

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Wow, Adventure Heaven! What a good movie I totally just saw! I liked the part where Moffun showed up and ate an entire box of Milk Duds, cardboard and all~! And the part where Racules spelled his name out in Romaji on a blackboard and it wasn't "Rcules" because goddammit that is fucking bullshit~!

Anyways, time for Episodes 24-26~!

Spoilers, I guess...

-I don't know why you seem so surprised about Dezzy blowing up the planet, Jimmy. I mean, have you met him?

-Gerojim! I missed you, yo!

-Ahhhh, so Tikyuu's already got its core science down.

-Oh!

-Okay, apparently bedrock just doesn't exist in this universe.

-"I will be king! And none will challenge me!"

-Spiders Jeremy comes to play the game!

-Grandpa putting you to bed.

-Jeremy hijacked the intro entirely for himself this time, okay!

-The king is boiling alive, and he hasn't even been coronated for a few days!

-Holy shit, 90%???

-Damn Yanma, do you not have liquid nitrogen lying around?

-...Rita, is there some secret stash of Moffun and Me merch hidden somehwere in this castle that Racules had? Are there Moffun Chunkopops?

-Three cities! For three baskets of crops!

-Oh, Gira...

-Boone...

-"How can you people party when we're all melting?"

-Matsuri, matsuri da~!

-...Tarou-san...

-"I know all about your stupid planetary genocide plan~!"

-Goddamn, Jeremy looks great in that torchlight.

-One of the best staples of any JRPG~! The festival sequence~!

-Gira-sama~!

-Have fun, my beloved peons~!

-Oh my god, the plushie's got his own Akracing (TM) Gaming Chair.

-AN ENTIRE SKYSCRAPER

-Oh you motherfuckers hjlkh

-Stupid carnies!

-Lunch time~! Lay it on us, K-Man.

-Utage ja Ohger Jumpscare

-Rita's so adorable in that outfit, holy crap

-"Get out there, boy."

-Dezzy's insight is rather surprising. Forced to answer for crimes he had no hand in while those who put his people there party above them...

-Ohhhh, those are simply lovely parallel effects...

-"I will be the pen that writes my tyrannical legend."

-"Ehh... idk, maybe this whole tyranny thing isn't working out for me."

-Th

-Awww, Douga :)

-Man, looking at the green screen for long is fuckin' with my sense of perspective.

-It's like if George Lucas directed a season of Power Rangers.

-"Oh, hey Jeremy :)"

-Jeremy...

-All this time...

-Big crawfish!

-Po boys for everyone!

-That boy can dig.

-"Anyone got any bright ideas?"

-Fishing!

-Okay, that is smart writing.

-Can't burn somebody already boiling alive.

-Now to plug all these holes.

-Oh Dezzy...

-Oh, goin' full King already.

-Holy shit, he tanked that.

-Idomonarak??

-Ohhhhhhhh

-Family...

-He's just shuffling on...

-And yet he hears nothing.

-OHHHH?

-Everybody!

-"The man who done fucked up."

-Go even further beyond.

-Oh

-Okay, that simple.

-Twenty guys.

-Ah don't worry, I saw the preview, you guys'll find 'em.

-GEROJIM

-DUDE

-"I'll handle this one."

-OHHHHH

-That is devious.

-:O

-Holy shit

-Testing a man's resolve so hard.

-"Serve your king. As the first of the Bugnarok."

-Chosen by the gods.

-Kofuki's unprepared.

-"...I'm starting to regret this idea now."

-King Nerd and his posse ride on!

-I see Himeno's retinue are quite resolute.

-Last meal.

-"My nasty-ass hands ask to be taken! Kuroda! Suzume! I beg of you!"

-Hello, Morphonia~!

-Kabedon

-Ohhhhhh the hug!!!

-"The will to succeed."

-Kuwagon...

-Thump!

-No more sacrifice plays! Only the finest perfect run here!

-Damn

-Boone didn't hesitate for a second.

-It's time for your advent, God King-Ohger!

-That is one huge son of a bitch.

-Long-ass jingle too.

-God descends, and they are a chimeric arthropod!

-Removed.

-Ikuzo!

-This is simply marvelous.

-"On your call, Ant Boy!"

-Ohsama Sentai! King-Ohger!

-Goodbye, Emperor Dethnarak.

-We saved the world~!

-...kinda!

-One last episode for this arc, of course.

-Ah yes, the best solution for racism. Genocide.

-"All the Bugnarok will die too, you moron."

-"Let's meet somewhere nicer. You can even borrow this if you want."

-Sweet prince Jeremy...

-Oh?

-"Hey, Arbiter! Can't arbit with goosebumps?"

-Ohhhhh

-I see...

-Oh crap, Himeno.

-OHHHHHH

-Those're the locusts!

-A pile of dead flies.

-Jesus Christ...

-Oh, already revolting.

-That is messed up, man.

-Emperor Dezzy's got a stummyache.

-Gerojim's a force ghost.

-Oh!

-It's a little guy!

-"Can you help him?"

-Dethnarak...

-I never expected much from him, and yet...

-Goddamn, this is some tragic-ass theming.

-"Get out of here! You stupid dumb animal!"

-They fightin'!

-"Look at how bright and beautiful the sun is!"

-Gira...

-Yep. We would've done the same goddamn thing.

-And we would've kept doing that same goddamn thing over and over again.

-Let it fall, buddy.

-We're doing it good!

-Oh

-Oh fuck you Kamejim.

-"Two thousand years of planning! Stoking the fires of prejudice, killing, stealing, lying, destroying. All down the drain!"

-What the hell is that

-"Be king. Let our people see the beautiful shining sun!"

-Dethnarak...

-Returned to nothing but cinders.

-Jeremy's fucking pissed.

-Time for everybody to play their part once more.

-"Now, what to do with you kids~?"

-Clocked

-Even at his last breath, Kamejim refused to get it.

-Goodbye, stinkbug man.

-The Bugnarok are heretofore recognized as their own domain.

-There's no need for hatred any more. Never there was.

-Man and bug. Hand in pincer, hand in wing, hand in leg.

-No cheer or joy. Just a message made clear.

-"Now, let's make a beautiful new story~!"

-Ohhhhhhhhh

-Ah, yep. Planet.

-I forgot.

-Alienses~!

-Galactinsects, they're called.

-Oh wow, a timeskip.

-WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH FINALLY!

-I'M CAUGHT UP!

-THE CURSE HAS BEEN LIFTED!

#Rejoice O Swarming Evil! You're My King!#kingohger #ohsama sentai kingohger #ohsama sentai king ohger #king ohger #king ohger spoilers

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clover-mittens · 2 years ago

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BLOODY HANDS

Arthur Pendragon x f!OC

Summary: Rabia came to Camelot with one objective, and that one objective only. Protect Merlin, yet that quickly proves to be a seemingly impossible task as that boy always finds some way to put himself in danger.

Words: 1.6k

next chapter ⎸ master list

Bloody Hands

part two: Finding the boy.

After staying at the beach for a few days, Rabia decided to make her way to the town to find a tavern or an inn to stay at. People were giving her all sorts of stares as she walked through the town. She knew she wasn't dressed the same way they dress around here.

Rabia's hometown is a lot more progressive when it comes to what is deemed appropriate since she's from an all-women elven village. People around the world still have no idea that elven people actually exist, but they do, even though they've been close to going extinct a few times. Rabia has been trained in combat from a very young age for this exact reason. Any weapon is deadly when put in the hands of Rabia or any woman in her hometown - which primarily is why she's here. A woman from Ealdor sent a letter to the elven town, asking for them to send an elf to protect and keep an eye on her son Merlin, all Rabia has to do now is actually figure out who Merlin is, which could prove to be a tough challenge. Camelot is a lot bigger than the young woman had originally thought.

As Rabia walked around the town, doing her best to ignore the looks she was getting she stumbled upon a tavern, hidden nicely in an alleyway that leads to the town's center. "Good morning!", she says, announcing her presence to the elderly man behind the bar. The man looks like he's been through hell and back - a traveler. The tavern is currently empty, but that's because everyone in town is out tending to animals and farms. "Your finest room, please.", the tone in her voice is joking, there obviously isn't a fine room in this tavern. This is the rundown side of the town, the part of the town that's hidden away in alleyways, shops that don't get the same attention, love, and care as all the over shops.

"Never did I ever think I'd see an elf in my tavern.", he says, catching Rabia by surprise. As she opens her mouth about to deny it, he cuts her sentence short. "Oh don't worry, as a magician your secret is safe with me. We gotta stick together.", till now Rabia didn't know how the town felt about magic, but apparently not well at all. In fact, any sort of magic had been banned by the king long ago.

"How many are there around here? Warlocks and witches I mean."

The elderly man shrugs. No one could ever know for sure how many magicians truly lived in Camelot. Even a man as wise as Alvaro could never know with certainty. "Now, about that room; follow me, please.", Rabia did as told, following Alvaro up a few sets of stairs, leading her to a small room at the end of a hallway. Inside the room, there's a window pointing towards the center of the town. "That window, right up there.", the elderly man says, walking to the window, and pointing towards one of the castle windows. "That right there is Gaius' chambers, he's the court physician. You'll find what you came for if you go to him."

The young woman was beyond confused. How did he know her intentions of coming to Camelot? "How?", she didn't really need to ask, he's a warlock so however, he did it, he'd already found out what Rabia's purpose of coming here was. "Actually, never mind, I'd just have to take your word for it. So before I go - how much do I owe you for the room".

"Not a dime. Like I said; we've ought to stick together. Now go on."

Rabia's shoes clicked against the ground as she made her way up the stairs leading toward Gaius' chambers. Her small, rough, yet feminine hands knocked on the wooden door - when getting no reply she decided to just walk in. A wonderfully messy room meets the woman's eyes. "All this equipment.", she whispers to herself as she takes in everything around her carefully. Rabia lightly runs her fingertips over a few books before she stops at one of them. A magic book - laying out in the open. How careless could he be?

The young woman's head snaps towards the door as it's opened. She quickly hides the book behind her back. "Who are you? And what might you be doing in here alone?", it's a young boy who immediately makes Rabia's eyes widen. Merlin. Rabia and the other women in her hometown are all prime protectors. Anyone with knowledge of her people and village knows that there are no one better to recruit.

"Um... I was, as a matter of fact, looking for Gaius."

Merlin steps closer to the woman, closing the door behind himself. "Yeah? Well to me it would look as though you're stealing. Now answer me truthfully or I'll have no choice but to call for the guards."

Rabia let out a sigh, putting the book back down on the table. She didn't need it, she just had to be sure that whoever entered was someone with the power of magic. "I wasn't stealing, I swear, I was making sure no one came in and saw a magic book laying around."

"You can read that? The stuff in the book.", Rabia nodded, taking Merlin by surprise. "I guess that's all fine and dandy, but who are you?"

"My name is Rabia, I came to Camelot to look for Gaius, he's a legend and I want to work for him.", the young woman lies. Merlin can not know that she's actually here to take care of him for his mother. "So, where might he be?"

In all honestly; Merlin had no idea. Gaius was usually in his chambers, but not today apparently. "He should be back soon.", the boy sounded unsure and quite confused, yet Rabia still took his word for it. At least she now had a reason to spend time with and get to know the young warlock. "You can wait here.", Merlin wanted to get to know more about Rabia. It wasn't ofter he came by a real witch - or what he thought to be a witch.

"So-"

Before the woman even had a chance to talk, she was interrupted by the door yet again being opened. Merlin quickly pushed the magic book, along with a few others, off the bench and onto the ground. "Merlin! Where have you been? I've- oh.", Arthur hadn't expected to ever see the young maiden again after she'd upped and left the beach, but here she was, standing in front of him in her revealing black dress. Around her waist hung a scabbard, containing a beautiful sword with flowers carved into the side. "Sorry, Merlin, I didn't expect you to have company."

"He didn't expect it either - Rabia Thunder, herbalist. I've come to Camelot to hopefully work for Gaius.", her words take both of the boys by surprise.

"He's already got me."

"Yeah? Well, I guess I've traveled this far for nothing, what a shame."

"NO!", both of the boys exclaim in unison, making the woman chuckle. Arthur had just noticed her a few days ago and she'd already managed to become the one thing on his mind, the fact that she was standing right there was enough to pique his interest enough to not be able to let her get out of his sight. "Erm... I bet Gaius could use another assistant, the one he has now is highly stupid."

Merlin shoots the young knight a wide-eyed look. "What did you come here for anyways, Arthur? If you came to insult me-"

"I didn't actually. My armor needs shining.", Merlin sighs before excusing himself and leaving the room. Arthur says behind for once - odd, he usually never stays in Gaius chambers when Merlin leaves, but as a knight, he can't just let a stranger stay alone in here, what if she did something? At least that's what he told himself. "So Rabia, why would you wanna work for Gaius? And at my father's kingdom at that."

Rabia shrugs. She had heard about a physician in Camelot who helped the birth of Arthur the great, but never would she ever have known that he was Gaius till now. "He's quite a legend, you know? It's been a life dream of mine to work for a man like him."

Arthur doesn't buy the young woman's story. No herbalist needs a sword like that, or the bow and quiver hanging on her back either. "And the weapons? I'm surprised the guards even let you up here with all of that. And I'm afraid I'll even have to confiscate them till I know you're not here with ill intentions."

"Are you kidding? If I wanted to kill anyone here I would have done it already. You don't get this kind of sword if you aren't worthy of it.", the young woman protests, but Arthur's not having it. He's enjoying her fiery voice though. Arthur shrugs, holding his hand out to receive her belongings. "Fine! Don't lose them, they're important to me, got it?", Rabia got her first real sword when she turned thirteen and later got the flowers carved into it when she turned eighteen to celebrate her becoming an adult. The bow was one she got from her mother when she was just ten years old. Her mom thought it was important that she knew how to hunt, just in case she ever found herself out in a forest with nothing to eat and no village close.

"I wouldn't dream of it."'

#merlin #king arthur #arthur pendragon #merlin fanfic #merlin fandom #arthur fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #bloody hands

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warystares · 11 months ago

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in the many months since remy has found himself lingering in new york, old world casino has become something of a second home to him. ( or perhaps a first home ? if he actually bothered to do the math, he's certain he'd find he clocks more hours here than back at his studio in brooklyn ! ) an american dagger of sorts ― the moth, anyway ― remington is lured in by the vibrant, flashy luminescence of the casino floor with the same inherently driven fervor, heart fluttering like mottled wings the moment he draws near its glow. he knows these tables like the back of a dexterous hand. even if he'd not been taken by the swanky gambling den of his own accord ( and make no mistake, he had ! ) remy moves through this space now with greater purpose. an ulterior motive. this is dangerous territory, after all, and he is all too aware of the hands that pull strings behind closed doors here. one might say the hands of gods.

but remy is under direct employ of another god and he has been given direct orders to be here. pretty damn convenient, if you were to ask him ! ( not hard for a prize pig to do his best work when he's rollin' around the mud he knows. ) and he's never not working, is he ? not when he's here. if he's not counting cards, stacking them, he's always observing. listening. talking. you'd think he had eyes in the back of his head ― mirrors up his sleeve, perhaps ― the way he can charm a crowd, disarm a competitor, and still keep close watch of the staff. he's hungry for information ! it has not yet slipped his mind that the last time he was called to liena's office, he arrived at her door empty - handed. that's the sort of shame that lingers for a while, makes sure to gnaw at you real good and remind you what you done. .

he doesn't intend to experience it again !

and this is why he finds himself blessed to be approached by none other than ms. samira hamidi herself. of course he knows her ! he does his homework. the way he smiles when he realizes it's him she's walking toward, you'd guess he was a man with nothing to hide. ( this isn't true, of course ! does such a man even exist these days ? did he ever ? ) his grin doesn't falter as he speaks, climbing, in fact, to crease the corners of crystalline eyes as a hand swiftly extends in offer.

❝ and here i thought my luck must be due to be runnin' out soon ! seems i'm living up to my name ― at least for a night ! ― that i might finally meet the elusive samira hamidi. it's a pleasure. ❞ there's a brief pause and for a moment the upward twitch of his lips becomes a bit more mischievous. ❝ or do you always come out to assess the damages after a big win ? ❞ something in the way he delivers the question or perhaps even the breezy laugh that punctuates it, transforms what could easily be read as an incriminating line into something more earnest. ❝ you'll have to forgive me, i've been all over by now, but i'm still learnin' the ins and outs of this lovely place. and speakin' of which, my greatest accolades to you ― this is one of the finest establishments i've had the pleasure of playin' in. none too many dull players to be had, which only makes the game all the more fun, if y'were to ask me. ❞

CLOSED FOR: @warystares LOCATION: old world casino

The casino was built on illusions. Beneath its splendor the establishment reeked of decadence, its rows of slot machines that promise success no more than false fronts of money-eating machines, with the world's best and brightest reduced to their basest instincts. Even after all these years, the irrationality of these economic exchanges awed her. That people should be so beholden to money that they would abandon rational thought: it made her breathless, almost. She would be amused if it weren't so thoroughly heartbreaking.

She was not one to talk. She'd made her living off illusions: tonight, as with most nights, she was off playing the role of Samira Hamidi. Because like recognizes like, it took no more than a few weeks to recognize Remington Luck had donned his own mask, too. The line between a grifter and a liar was the sophistication to which the lie was performed; this trait, she conceded, was one the man held in abundance. There was something oddly intriguing about the way he strode so confidently in these halls and won his games, each and every time.

Tonight she'd pay something rather like professional courtesy, or perhaps a warning. Samira strode to his side after winning a particularly successful game that had seen the casino's rather substantial net loss. " Remington Luck, isn't it? Allow me to be the first to congratulate you, " She tossed him a smile, friendly by most standards. " Personally. It's not always that a card game intrigues me. Some matches could be quite dull, couldn't they? Though I suppose you think of these games quite differently than I. " Would he recognize her? She'd wondered. Samira was a ghost in these halls, haunting and disturbing the peace only when necessary.

#✘ remy luck | conversation #✘ remy / samira 001 #i'm so sorry this took so long !!! and also ... got ... so long !!!! pls don't match <3

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reliquice · 2 years ago

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♛ 𝔐𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔑𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔤𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 ♛

∿ This Is How I Live My Life' Under Different Men ┊ Shen Ping

∿ The Finest Steel' Has To Endure The Hottest Fire ┊ Yi Tae-Woo

∿ A Soul Full Of Sunshine ┊ Prompto

∿ Elegance Is Not Being Noticed' But Being Remembered ┊ Roy Lee

∿ Blade Generation Isn't Complete Without Lasersaber ┊ Seven

∿ Thought You Were Incapable Of Saying No More Than Five Words┊ Lee Suhyeok

∿ Wakey-Wakey' Tofu' Eggs' & Bacey ┊ Beast Boy

∿ I'm What They All Want' Yet I Want To Be All To One. ┊ Logan

∿ He Payed For His Father's Sins ┊ Anthony Hwang

∿ I Fight Only For My Father' As He Is All I Have ┊ Talon

∿ Memories Saturate My Heart' The Story Of You All Spill From My Eyes! ┊ Osiris

∿ I'm Forced To Be Intertwined With My Enemy ┊ Casper

∿ Once I Sold My Life To A Beautiful Man' Now I'm Cursed And Bounded To Him ┊ Dante

∿ Smooth… ┊ Ryan Erzahler

∿ I Bite' You Bleed! You May Fight' But I Must Feed! ┊ Solar

∿ (To Stop Sign) No' You Stop! ┊ Lynx

∿ Does Your Hunter Have Good Balls Of Brass? ┊ Isaac

∿ Take That' You Mealy-Mouthed Bastards! ┊ Nick

∿ Suicide Means You've Killed The Most Important Existence Of All' Yourself! ┊ Monokuma

∿ I Will Lead The Pack Someday' Till Then' Beware! ┊ Forest

∿ I Wish I Could Go Back' But I Must Stay Here As The Monster In Me Is Strong ┊ Urban

#∿ Aspire To Inspire' Before We Expire ┆ Muse #∿ This Is How I Live My Life' Under Different Men ┊ Shen Ping #∿ The Finest Steel' Has To Endure The Hottest Fire ┊ Yi Tae-Woo #∿ A Soul Full Of Sunshine ┊ Prompto #∿ Elegance Is Not Being Noticed' But Being Remembered ┊ Roy Lee #∿ Blade Generation Isn't Complete Without Lasersaber ┊ Seven #∿ Thought You Were Incapable Of Saying No More Than Five Words┊ Lee Suhyeok #∿ Wakey-Wakey' Tofu' Eggs' & Bacey ┊ Beast Boy #∿ He Payed For His Father's Sins ┊ Anthony Hwang #∿ I Fight Only For My Father' As He Is All I Have ┊ Talon #∿ Memories Saturate My Heart' The Story Of You All Spill From My Eyes! ┊ Osiris #∿ I'm Forced To Be Intertwined With My Enemy �� Casper #∿ Once I Sold My Life To A Beautiful Man' Now I'm Cursed And Bounded To Him ┊ Dante #∿ I Bite' You Bleed! You May Fight' But I Must Feed! ┊ Solar #∿ (To Stop Sign) No' You Stop! ┊ Lynx #∿ Does Your Hunter Have Good Balls Of Brass? ┊ Isaac #∿ Suicide Means You've Killed The Most Important Existence Of All' Yourself! ┊ Monokuma #∿ I Will Lead The Pack Someday' Till Then' Beware! ┊ Forest #∿ I Wish I Could Go Back' But I Must Stay Here As The Monster In Me Is Strong ┊ Urban #∿ I'm What They All Want' Yet I Want To Be All To One. ┊ Logan

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atlabeth · 2 years ago

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(not so) simple p1 - anthony bridgerton

masterlist

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.

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