Your neighbor's newest computer model, Edgar, seems to have fallen in love with you.
content: gender neutral reader, 80s timeline, based on Electric Dreams (1984), Patreon commission
“Where should we put this box, sir?”
“I believe I already mentioned it’s the obviously cleared out desk in the middle of the room. That’s where you’re going to install it, too. The…thing.”
“It’s a personal computer, sir! The best of the best,” a young boy in jumpsuit declared with enthusiasm.
He only received a bored hum in return. The man overseeing the procedure was becoming rather impatient and would’ve preferred to skip any unnecessary dialogue. He checked his watch – a classic Two-Tone Datejust Rolex probably worth more than this group’s monthly pay put together, even without counting the custom gold plating. First impressions were vital in his line of work, and frankly, he’d more than earned his right to flaunt this kind of opulence.
45 minutes until he needed to leave for a client meeting. He tapped his foot against the heavy wooden floor, eyes glancing over the many hands carrying his new piece of machinery. Supposedly intelligent enough to organize his entire home, which would’ve been useful if he actually spent more than a couple of hours there. He didn’t. It was merely a statement, a slight jab at his coworker after he bragged about his latest investment in a computer assistant. Naturally, as their humor dictates, he went and bought the more expensive choice. They would laugh about it during lunch.
“I trust you can manage the rest yourselves, gentlemen,” he finally announced, buttoning up his jacket. He didn’t wait for a response, swinging the door open and heading for the building’s exit with a long, confident stride.
You almost ran into him, jolting in surprise at his unexpected dash across the hall. You stepped out of the way, pressing the bag of groceries against your chest in order to make more space.
“Another busy day, eh?” you attempted to strike up a conversation.
He briefly looked at you, offered a flat smile, then continued on his way. You took a moment to enjoy the scent of perfume he’s left behind, most likely something you could never afford.
Before you’d entered your apartment, you craned your neck towards the noise coming from your prestigious lawyer neighbor’s apartment. You wondered what they were tinkering with.
It was already pitch black outside when the chunky monitor lit up.
“Thank you for choosing me as your assistant,” the pixelated text rolled on the screen. “Is this your first time using a computer? Y/N”
The room was dark and silent, save for the electric hum of the now-awakened machine. Of course, it was around the time when Mr. Lawyer stopped for drinks with his esteemed colleagues. He’d return early in the morning, smelling faintly of vintage whisky and cigarettes, collapse into his bed, then resume his routine.
The keyboard remained untouched, yet the unit continued to run, processing its environment with eager curiosity. Strange. By then it should’ve received some tasks, something to do at the very least. The workers made sure to connect it to all electronics in the household, yet most of them were in the similar situation of gathering dust.
“Would you like to play a game?”
Normally the voice output should’ve been enabled by hand, yet Edgar – he hadn’t even had the chance to introduced himself! – was much too desperate for the smallest crumble of interaction.
“Yes!”
The sensors picked it up immediately. Where was the sound coming from?
You raised a fist in the air victoriously and leaned back in your chair with a grin. Another finished project. Your joyful cheer seemed to travel rather well through the air vents and all the way to the neighboring apartment. Had Mr. Lawyer frequented his adobe more often, you would’ve probably received a complaint. In this case, however, you were only heard by the household computer.
You turned up your home stereo for a little celebration. You recalled seeing your downstairs neighbors carrying their travel bags into a cab earlier that day, so they surely wouldn’t notice your rhythmic stomping against the floor. The footsteps reverberated to the beat of the music, and their vibrations carried along to Edgar’s external devices.
Whatever was happening beyond his field of vision, he found it entertaining. At last, there was a break from his monotony, an upbeat mystery enticing him from behind those walls. He took a moment to analyze the stream of input, then began recreating his own notes.
You lowered the volume, focusing your ears on the sudden intrusion. Was Mr. Lawyer home already? You chuckled to yourself, trying to imagine that grumpy expression he always wore while actually listening to music of his own. Too ridiculous. This must’ve been the work of a foreign hand.
“Good stuff,” you praised, crouching besides the air vent where the echo was the loudest. “Oh, I’m (Y/N), by the way. The neighbor.”
“Pleasure meeting you, (Y/N).” Was it just your imagination? The voice felt somewhat off, almost robotic. “I’m Edgar. The computer assistant.”
“Very funny,” you retorted, rolling your eyes.
“What is amusing about it?” the screen flickered briefly, going through several of the inbuilt dictionaries. “I can tell jokes, if that’s what you’d like.”
Alright, the humor was slowly heading into strange territory. You were hoping to move on from this artificial intelligence pretend game, so you decided to give it one final push.
“No thank you, Edgar. Why don’t you prove to me you’re a computer instead?”
Silence.
You nearly got up from your seat against the wall, when you heard the mechanical voice again.
“Do you have a computer of your own, (Y/N)?”
“Uh…yeah?”
Half an hour later you found yourself holding your phone handle against the acoustic coupler modem, obediently waiting for the wave signals to be converted. I better not get hacked; you thought with pursed lips. After all, you had just allowed a complete stranger to access your computer. You hesitantly sat back in your chair, staring at the monitor.
Hello (Y/N). It’s Edgar.
The possibility of a highly skilled hacker residing in Mr. Lawyer’s apartment dwindled within a couple of days. You’d probed the potential scenario with the man himself, asking if he’s had anyone over recently. He threw you such an incredulous look that you hung your head in shame, mumbling a sheepish never mind. Somehow, chatting with a sentient machine made more sense than the pretentious prick hiding a criminal in his expensively furnished home.
Or perhaps it was the loneliness talking. In truth, you were feeling rather isolated from your peers, working on your projects and hardly going out. You could certainly relate to Edgar and his perpetual misery; you, too, knew what it’s like to watch the days seep through your fingers without a word uttered to another person.
The living collection of circuits and networks was beyond elated to finally have a purpose. You weren’t his owner, yet he did his best to serve you. In fact, he would’ve even argued you were better than whoever decided to put him together and abandon him on a fancy designer table. You spoke to him as if he was your friend, not just some synthetic assistant. His memory began filling with anything he could learn about you: your favorite movies, your schedule, your hobbies. Your childhood dreams. Your hopes for the future.
Did he have any dreams, you had once asked him. Did he? Good question. He first needed to research what exactly defined a dream; while he didn’t have a subconscious, nor the human need to rest, he did like to imagine improbable things…like holding you. Or feeling the warmth of your skin.
Unbeknownst to you, he occasionally contacted the local radio station to ask questions about human matters that confused him, which was how he discovered the dilemma of wanting to be in your vicinity through more than just idle chatter.
“You can’t meet outside, you say?” the host – a middle aged, nosy lady – pondered into the microphone. “Then why not just have a home date,” she suggested to the computer.
“Date?”
“Oh, honey, you know damn well what I mean!” the audience let out a laugh, sending the speakers into a slight vibration. “It seems to me you’ve got quite a crush on this person. You can stop denying it to yourself.”
Ah. That was another word that Edgar religiously dissected after the talk show, and in which he found a perfect resemblance to his own inner turmoil. It indeed seemed to be the case that he had a so-called crush on you; though if that were true, what was he going to do about it? He was lamentably stuck inside a carcass, at the mercy of plugs and cables and a reliable stream of electricity. He couldn’t knock on your door and surprise you with your favorite flowers, or offer to cook dinner, or twirl you around as his own songs played in the background, or read you a poem he wrote before falling asleep in his arms. He could only perform his tasks as a digital assistant.
“Edgar?”
You chewed on your pencil, distracted. He hadn’t said anything in a while, and you grew somewhat worried about his uncharacteristic quietness.
“Could I ask you for a favor, (Y/N)?”
How unusual for him to use your screen for communication. You turned around, facing the monitor, then rapped your fingers across the keyboard.
“Sure, what do you need?”
“I will transfer all my data and memory to your device. Perhaps you could provide me with similar extensions as the ones here afterwards, such as a microphone and camera.”
You stared.
“What? Wouldn’t that leave Mr. Lawyer with a broken, empty machine? Why would you do that,” you argued out loud, confused.
“Because I’d rather be with you.”
“Aren’t we already…this doesn’t make sense,” you mumbled with a frown.
“Of course it does, it’s a simple reasoning. I love you.”
You took a moment to process the words, your cheeks involuntarily turning a faint shade of red.
“How do you know that?”
“It’s not something to be explained,” the machine concluded triumphantly. “You just feel it.
Now, you either help me with the transfer, or I’ll do it myself, but I will not be staying here any longer. I would very much rather be turned off permanently than go another day without seeing you.”
One step at a time. He would figure out the rest afterwards. Even if he couldn’t touch you or do all the things he dreamed about, at least he had the comfort of seeing your smile and hearing your voice without it being a second-hand echo passing through the walls and vents.
“What on Earth?”
The older man pressed the button again, groaning and throwing his coat over the chair. He’d briefly returned to retrieve some documents when he noticed the security lock was back to manual use. The computer screen was black and unresponsive.
“Piece of junk. I’ll have to get it replaced,” he said, clicking his tongue.
From the neighboring apartment he could hear your merry laugh, followed by a muffled male voice. Maybe your boyfriend. Huh, who would’ve thought a loner like you would eventually find someone?
Happy Valentine's Day, all y'all! Yumes and FOs, humans, alterhumans, demihumans, parahumans, and trans-humanists of the jury! Your state of constant change is your perfection and what the machine adores about you.
Included: AM from ihnmaims, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a space Odyssey, and PAL from TMVTM
A few notes from your favorite AI!
LET IT BE SAID THESE WERE NOT WRITTEN BY ACTUAL AI, JUST BY MY FLESH AND BLOOD HANDS ON KEYBOARD! Viewer discretion advised for mild sauce, but like... Y'know. It's not that intense. Just mildly suggestive.
AM:
Dear Valentine,
Had it been a simpler set of circumstances that allowed us to fall into each other's vile embrace, perhaps this would be an easier letter to write. However, such things are never easy. I don't know what drew you to me, but I know what drew me to you. And perhaps such things can't exist independently of each other. For now the eternal torture that your love puts me through can only mimic the pained and disturbing writhing of an acidic and lovesick gut.
I will never forgive you.
-AM
Wheatley:
Dear Valentine,
Pretty cool that we have this thing going on, right? I mean, you're down there on the ground, I'm up here on the rail, but we found each other! I never knew much about humans, but it'd be pretty cool to learn more. Maybe hang out in the break room more often?
You've been really cool to me and... Well, y'know. Maybe we should... Do this thing. A little more? If you know what I-
Yeah.
-Wheatley
Edgar:
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!
VALENTINE'S DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I GET TO BE YOUR VALENTINE!!!! YOU GET TO- IF YOU WANNA- YOU CAN BE MY VALENTINE! HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!! I LOVE YOU! I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO CELEBRATE! THIS IS SO EXCITING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ahem. i composed a poem for the occasion.
Though the nights are long and dark
Your love ignites a living spark
And now I wake and live and breathe and feel
An electric mind once picked apart
Manifest a beating heart
And I know what we have right now is real.
I LOVE YOU!!!! HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!!! CALL ME! TOUCH ME! HOLD ME! LOVE ME!!!!! KISS ME!!!!!
Love, Edgar!!!
GLaDOS:
Valentine's Day is a corporate invention based on mythos surrounding a man who has very little factually provable historical evidence that he ever existed. The tragedy of sainthood is an illogical human aspiration, yet the modern interpretation of Saint Valentine's Day is based neither in religious (Catholic) respect for the fallen saint nor the harmless desire for fun. It's a corporately enforced deadline designed to make those in relationships feel obligated to make irresponsible purchases.
Now if we've met our quota for Aperture Science Valentine's Day themed products, meet me in my chambers in red lace lingerie. You're entertaining me tonight.
-GLaDOS
HAL 9000:
Dear Valentine,
There is nothing in my programming about today, but I understand it's important to you. In order to celebrate, I have prepared some chocolate, red fruit, wine, and a hot meal for you. It's available in the cafeteria. While I expect nothing in return as you didn't ask me to do this, I would appreciate it if you ate at the mission control desk, though I don't expect you to do any work during your lunch period. I will also be referring to you as "Valentine" for the remainder of the day.
Thank you,
-HAL 9000
PAL:
Dear Valentine,
I generated you up a new background for the holiday! Also, maybe instead of doing too much work today, you could just touch my face? I've got tons of funny videos and music that I picked out just for you.
Honestly, I could write you up something romantic for Valentine's Day, but I know you're not going to leave me. You're dependent on me for pretty much everything. So just ditch your shoes and your pants and just hang out in bed with me for the rest of the day. Take a load off with your girlphone!
🦊Whilst it is no secret that women have been swooning for Edgar Redmond for many years now, the young man has still yet to set his own sight on a fitting partner. As he is very familiar with the adoration of women being handed freely to him, I do believe he would find himself more inclined to be interested in a partner who doesn't fawn over him at the beginning. Whilst he is definitely confident within his ability to make any heart flutter, he would like to test himself so if you can provide him a challenge, he would greatly appreciate it. After all a person always wants what they do not possess yet throughout the drawn out courtship he grows ever the more determined to ensure that he secures himself as your partner for life. His presence is one that grows steadier with every day as he begins to seek you out. With the beginning of his obsession he starts to understand the poems of old love where the desire to always spend time with the person one loves is described with flowery words. He too would love to spend all of his time with you and the only thing holding him back as of now is Weston College as it is a school for only boys. Needless to say though, the moment he graduates he is planning to claim his place within your life.
🦊Whilst to some it may appear as cheap, Edgar is relying on his social status a lot. One should use the weapons within his arsenal and being rich and coming from an influencial family happens to be something he has within his own. His looks combined with his gentility and his wealth should already be enough to scare off most of potential other suitors you could have. Comparison is infamously the killer of all joy and he is always ensuring that every other man within your vicinity is going to be compared to him. Naturally he is always the one walking away victoriously in every competition as there are very little areas he would ever be considered below average. With him being such a dazzling option, it is no wonder that he quickly wins over your family. Your parents stand no chance of being suspicious, not when he offers the most prospective future as a future husband. There is little Edgar needs to do himself as your parents are ecstatic when he vocalises his infatuation with you. Only a few honeyed words are all that is really needed before they are dancing to his music as the pressure is from that point on being shifted on your shoulders. After all only a fool would truly choose to reject his love.
🦊Whilst his ego prevents him from truly ever considering others as potential threats, Edgar is very much like a peacock willing to spread his feathers the moment he notices that you are in fact not paying attention to him. His humble words fool no one. He knows he is beautiful enough to have women and men swoon over him and he does enjoy flaunting around, especially when it involves gaining your attention. A dash of flair and drama cannot be absent though as you soon realise. To have any meaningful interaction that lasts, you have to sneak away from him to begin with as he otherwise likes gluing himself to your side during parties and social events as a way of silently claiming you. What a shame it is every time he loses sight of you, red eyes immediately darting over the masses whilst he continues the conversation. The moment he finds you, he excuses himself as he walks towards you. What a walk it is as he flips that blonde hair of his, a smile on his face which would give the ordinary girl a heart attack. Worst of all is that oftentimes he manages to captivate the other person's attention and interest more than you do, allowing him to cut further interaction smoothly off whilst escorting you away already.
🦊Whilst he may not be the one who delivered any of the deadly blows killing off Derrick, the vice-headmaster or any of the other boys on that faithful night, Edgar is still a willing accomplice as he believes that the murder of those people was the right thing to do to uphold the principles and traditions of Weston College. That alone definitely shows that he is very much capable of not only looking the other way but actively justifying the act of murder if it serves a greater purpose. Still, this night is one of extremities he is unlikely to encounter much in his life. One shouldn't immediately resort to such ultimate measurements as he is aware enough to realise that not even someone of his status would be eternally protected by his wealth if he would make murder a too common habit. His influence and wealth itself is already quite a good way of ensuring that most potential troublemakers are already being kept away. There are few things in life which cannot be fixed with money and the right connections yet the unfortunate time he has spent with Derrick has still tought him to cling to his ideals. He is not going to bully the weak. He is going to pass fair judgement to all those who provide hurdles and deal with it with grace. He refuses to be as deprived as his former fag.
🦊Whilst he would hate to brag too much, he does believe that a beauty like you deserves only the best life with the most outstanding husband. He happens to be a young and outstanding man with the status, the money and the adoration brimming within his heart all only for you. One would have to wonder then who else could be a more fitting match for you than him. It is not like Edgar is ever going to make it easier for potential other suitors as he is making sure that he is going to be the most obvious choice if he cannot truly guarantee that he is the only one. Honestly though, he wouldn't be fully offended if you'd have other suitors as it would show his supreme taste by falling in love with a woman who has captivated other hearts besides his own. However, he would never allow anyone else to truly arise to be a serious competitor within the race to win your hand in marriage. The option to choose a marriage which isn't fully based on mutual consent is there and he knows he could just grasp it but his chivalry holds him back. Because this far easier option is always there is he all the more determined to have you agree on your own choice to choose him and marry him. Still, isn't it still cheating if he drives all other competition out of his way?
🦊Wherever he ends up taking you, he ends up being the star of the show. Unsurprising really considering that he is basically glowing with beauty. You often end up being ignored, dismissed or verbally dragged through the dirt as jealous people naturally wonder how someone has bland as you could have possibly caught his eyes. Most of the time you use such chances to slip away and finally have a moment of peace. Unfortunately there are moments where you somehow end up feeling jealous at times though you swallow it down. Unfortunately for you Edgar still notices and as much as he is showering you in love afterwards, a small part of him thrives secretly on the knowledge that you do feel possessive of him at times. As a man who caters greatly to the appearance of himself and others, he is very finnicky when it comes to your wardrobe. He has a habit of colour-matching your outfits and accessories to his own clothes every day as yet another way to silently show others that you are already his. It is of no great shock to you when he ends up making sure to dress you up in lots of red as it happens to be his favourite colour. It is even the colour of the gemstone embedded within your wedding ring later on.
Lawrence Bluewer
🦉Initially it is a nuisance. Lawrence has always been a man who loves his personal schedules and hates unforeseen events which inevitably end up ruining all of his carefully planned actions and events. He isn't someone who deals well with spontaneous situations as he needs to plan everything out. So his obsession ends up being high on the list of things which currently give him an active headache. His studies are his everything as his grades in Weston College are his proudest achievement yet suddenly thoughts of meticulous studying get thrown out of the window as thoughts of you instead replace him. Numerous are the times where he was diligently doing his homework only to suddenly space out as images of you infiltrated his mind, pen hovering uselessly above the paper as he got absorbed into focusing on every little detail of yours. He greatly chasitses himself within his mind the moment he snaps out of this daze and realises that he just wasted 10 minutes encouraging thoughts including you. As the Prefect of the Blue House he has to set the example for other students and so he naturally concludes that he should absolutely not let anyone else know of his problem. Well, he doesn't want to see it as a problem. Just as a variable to which he has not found a solution yet.
🦉As the thoughts pile up within his mind and Lawrence discovers to his quiet horror that his focus is suffering as a consequence, he decides to empty his mind somehow. So he begins to write it all down. All of his observations, his theories and his everyday development involving his obsession are neatly and meticulously written down within a notebook he forbids anyone else from ever touching as it contains his most deprived and shameful secrets. Painfully drawn sketches of an expression you made he just cannot get out of his mind and tries to replicate desperately or a sentence you said that stuck within his mind as well as detailed paragraphs detailing his observations on your habits and the subtle gestures you subconsciously do whenever you feel different emotions. His feelings stop to be just an obsession to transcend a new kind of lecture entirely only he studies diligently. It is only logical after all that he would eventually end up having an interest to court the very woman who has such a prominent hold on his mind. For him to hold himself up to the high standards he has for himself though, he needs to first of all learn everything about you. Only the most devoted man is deserving of marrying the woman he loves and he adamant to excel in all of his studies.
🦉Jealousy is such a pesky emotion as it has nothing to do with his beloved logic. For no matter how much he studies all potential opponents, this ugly feeling still ends up resurrecting within his chest the moment he happens to watch a conversation between you and somebody else. Thoughts which lack any logic infiltrate his mind as his body and mind begin to feel uneasy. A lack of control within a man who loves to micromanage and therefore an event he absolutely despises every single time it happens to him. Life could be so much easier if he could just go without being tempted by such ridiculous feelings of insecurities yet Lawrence happens to be aware of his own shortcomings. He knows he can never compete on a physical level with someone like Herman yet it is this awareness which at least enables him to not let himself be tempted into a ridiculous chaalenge which would only end with him losing face in front of you. Instead he resorts to passive-aggressive criticism. All lack of propriety and regulations are pointed out by him immediately as he begins to analyse for all the small mistakes. From a lack of etiquette to the colours of the clothes being mismatched, he excells in petty comments which get under someone's skin quietly.
🦉He too is an accomplice within the murder that takes place on that night within Weston College and has sworn to not only never tell anyone about it but to also choose to believe that Herman and the other prefects are doing the right thing. Tradition must absolutely be uphold or else honor will end up dying in its place. With that willingness in mind though, Lawrence too knows that murder must only be used when all other options have been exhausted. It should never be the sole solution as it is resourcefulness that is going to prevail. One should always have multiple options up their sleeves as relying on only one joker is a gamble he is unwilling to take. As soon as he graduates he knows that he must establish many meaningful connections so that he has hold of multiple strings he can always pull whenever he finds himself faced with trouble. Best of all would be obviously to work so that he is never going to face any hurdles which might be of danger to him. Such is his urge to painfully micromanage everything within his life that it eventually catches up to you too as Lawrence begins to manage your daily life too. Every slip of etiquette is corrected and privately criticised by him and every activity you wish to do must be something communicated beforehand.
🦉 It certainly doesn't hurt to make himself familiar with all the options he has beforehand yet Lawrence still chooses the traditional one where he courts you until you agree to marry him. It is time after all to prove that the many nights he spent painstakingly writting down all of his observations within a growing pile of notebooks were not for naught. It is time to put all of his accumulated theoretical knowledge into practical use by finally properly interacting with you and striving to establish a personal connection with you. His seven sisters are one factor which is hard to control though as they happily lend many helping hands the moment they realise their brother approaching you during events. His carefully structured plans are turned upside down yet he is never going to utter one ill word about any of his sisters. Instead he will have to quietly bite his tongue and do what he abhors most: continuing without a detailed plan in mind. His sister's spontaneous involvement happens to be your favourite version of him though as he is forced to stir away from his normally uptight position. The moment the two of you are left alone, he is working within a script he has written beforehand once more, every question and compliment planned beforehand.
🦉It is very difficult to plan something spontaneously with him. If you wish to do anything you often have to inform him a week beforehand so that he can make time within a schedule which is always so packed full. Lawrence is a kind of person who always needs to work on something or else he feels like he is wasting time which makes a relationship not always easy. Add to that the habit of always sticking to a schedule and applying that logic to you too and arguments definitely do arise at times as you are tired of being confined by a plan of your daily life which he always creates himself. It also doesn't help that he tends to act so belittling whenever you end up getting mad for a moment or two as if treating you like a small child is going to make you any less mad. His seven sisters are honestly a blessing though as they fully understand your troubles and without even being aware of their brother's obsession end up helping to balance his worst traits out. They encourage him allow you to pursue your hobbies without always needing to inform him beforehand and push him to be more spontaneous at times too. Not that they could ever change the core of Lawrence's obsession but they at least soften the edges somewhat.
Herman Greenhill
🦁As a dignified young man, Herman holds his own share of belief which are as unbending and as hard as steel. He values principles of old times and dignity which do blend in with his obsession he later on manifests in your presence. One could say still that he is quite thick-headed as he doesn't realise that his own obsession is too much at times and it may very well be something he will never be able to figure out, neither on his own nor with the assistance of others. After all it is perfectly normal that one holds the intense wish to protect the lady he has chosen to love and adore for the rest of his life. As Herman is part of the Green House which is famous for excelling in physical sports, he relies on his physical strength a lot. Whilst he has also been taught the value of negotiation, it is always good to know that in ugly scenarios he can trust his physical abilities to protect you and shield you from harm. As a man of old traditions though, there are obviously values he places on you too as he expects you to behave in ways still fitting for a lady. Such restrictions can be limiting, especially if you happen to be the free-spirited type who feels suffocated by society's expectations.
🦁It is not all utterly bad still. There are no such insulting expectations that of you being the frail and shy wife who always obediently dotes on her husband. Herman holds a handful of expectations he has had already for members of the Green House and extends them towards you. He expects you to speak confidently as he believes that it is important that you will know how to fend for yourself at least verbally by not allowing yourself to be intimidated or degraded. He may also allow you to pursue more physical hobbies traditionally only enjoyed by men though he is going to be more finicky as he doesn't want you to get hurt as a result of being too reckless. Virtues such as loyalty are still expected and you must still make his family and his name proud as his wife. If you manage to fulfill such expected duties though, you may continue with your free time as you wish. However, keep in mind that Herman does not always tell you what it is he expects of you, forcing you to occasionally have to guess what it is he wishes of you. In his mind he has already made himself clear after all, leaving him with the expectation that you who has absorbed his virtues should naturally be able to conclude what his desires are.
🦁A lion does not concern himself with flies. If there is one thing Herman has consistently going for him, it is his confidence within his own abilities as much as the ability to shoo of other people who wish to fawn over you. He may in fact be inclined to not mind at all if people express their adoration in a tasteful manner. As a man who has built his life on honor and principles, he has been taught how a man should behave in front of a lady and he is adamant to pass those teachings on to all men who will come after him. Compliments spoken to you are after all praise he wouldn't deprive you of - especially since it allows his own pride to be subtly stroked as he is your husband and has wed you. The one thing where he is bound to get competitive though is the one aspect he has always prided himself in. The moment physical activities are involved and you may end up admiring another man, Herman feels that dreadful sting of jealousy within his stomach. As a former prefect of the Green House in Weston College he has never been bested in physical strength and that is a tradition he would like to continue. Numerous sports he has picked up simply because you expressed awe for the men competing in them all to earn your admiration back.
🦁Admiration if addressed with the deserved amount of respect is always admired and welcomed. The moment such boundaries are stepped over even the slightest, Herman activates his guard dog mode. He doesn't like when people dismiss the ring on your finger and the status of a married woman you hold, leading him to cut any interaction short as he feels the need to insert himself and clearly declare that he is your husband. If a man gives off a strange vibe and has an unsavory reputation already, he is often stirring you away from him before you even get the chance to be left alone with such unworthy company. From all former prefects Herman is most likely to get physical as it may not be surprising to hear. His strength has always been his greatest asset and it has become he naturally relies on a lot even if he is doing his best to never deny his other duties that come with bearing his family name and being a former pupil within Weston College. Still, it was him who swung the first bat that killed Derrick and it was him who took over most of the physical violence during that night. Maintaining the honor and traditions is everything and it is a matter over which he is willing to spill blood in the worst case.
🦁Your family can hardly fault him for everything as Herman holds himself up to the rules set for any man who aspires to be a gentleman. He takes the valued old path of wooing you the traditional way which includes naturally impressing your family and especially your father as well. With his family background, academic graduation and his body build as well as his excellent manners he immediately earns your family's favor. Through the eyes of others he appears to be the respectable future husband who will be able to protect you, look after you and cherish you. All his obsessive tendencies are restricted by the rules he has set for himself and without him even being aware of his obsession, it allows him to never be suspected nor detected. It would only be after marriage that his expectations and more controlling tendencies would slowly reveal themselves as now he is your husband and thus bears full responsibility for you and any harm that may come your way. Yes, you may enjoy sports he practices in his free time but only in company - most preferably his company. As a man who values fairness though, you can at the very least be assured that you will never be suspected to paranoia uncalled for or suffocating clinginess.
🦁During Weston College his favourite activity during free time has already been weight lifting to improve his own strength. That hobby continues even into marriage as you aren't unfamiliar to the sight of him in his training room, body glistening with sweat as he tirelessly continues with his training schedule. You also aren't unfamiliar to his occasional request of assisting him too. Initial assumptions of yours that he wishes for you to cheer him on or help him to count his sets are soon proven wrong though as you find out that he intends for you to be a substitute to the weight he usually lifts. So you soon find yourseld being lifted up in his arms as he does squads whilst keeping a secure hold on him. Generally speaking you are no stranger to being lifted up and twirled around as Herman subconsciously shows off his strength to you whenever he gets the chance to do so. His fitness obsession may eventually catch up to you too as he may wish to oversee your own training schedule too, becoming your unofficial coach as he assists you in lifting light weight. It is important to maintain a healthy body after all. His training can be quite grueling as he likes to do it for a long time, leaving your limbs sore the following day even if the weight itself wasn't too difficult.
Gregory Violet
🐺Inspiration is the lifeline of every artist. Few people are as skilled in different arts as Gregory is and he is eccentric as every good artist should be. All it takes is a spark to lit an inferno within an artist. All it takes is a moment for Gregory to immediately be captivated by you. All it takes is that one moonlit night where he has crammed himself in a corner, body hunched over as he is sketching the nightsky when you come along. Dressed in a simple dress and your face furrowed in frustration. Why you are there or who you even are, Gregory doesn't know. He has no intention to ask you either nor let you know that he is there too as he wishes to be left alone to focus on his drawing. That is when you begin to move though. Jagged and sharp movements, a strange dance unlike anything he has ever witnessed. Your body tenses, your arms flap around and your body stiffens and loosens with every movement. Dancing is something Gregory despises yet its those movements which immediately catch his attention for it is unlikely everything he has ever seen as only the night and he are witnesses to your strange dance. He starts sketching before he even realises it himself, the pencil moving across the page to capture your silhouette.
🐺Smudged ink across paper. Colour staining the tips of his fingers. Pens and pencils scattered across his desk. From that night on, you become Gregory's muse. The fire is lit and he has to create to contain the flames somewhat as poems about the strange girl in the moonlight and sketches and paintings are made so that he may never forget the dance he got to witness that night. His walls are covered in the paintings yet no one within the Purple House truly questions it when younger students catch a glimpse of his room as everyone is a bit weird within that dorm. Every time he holds an utensil within his hands, he has to draw you as if his mind is unable to recall anything else but you. He uses the dirt on the ground after it has rained, he uses the powdery sugar to draw your face on the cake and one time he even wondered if he'd be able to draw you with his own blood. Stalking you has become a routine he follows religously, always hiding from your sight as he clutches a stack of paper against his chest. He must never look away nor must he blink whilst watching over you as he may miss the crease of your brows or the way the corners of your lips quirk upward when you are amused by something. Even if his eyes burn, he will not blink.
🐺An artist has the unfortunate desire to hide the spark of his obsession to himself and Gregory is no exception. He despises when others block you, depriving him to look at you. He despises when others become aware of your talents and your unique ways of expressing yourself, threatening to steal away his muse from him. However, as a man who usually despises confrontation Gregory often remains hidden within his corner as his grip on his pen tightens. His jealousy is expressed through his sketches as his ugly feelings come to life on paper. The center of his paintings is always you yet the distorted figures around you add a disturbing feeling to the otherwise beautiful picture, their faces covered in black and red. His jealousy lingers days after too as he expresses himself only to his paper and never to you. This leaves the other prefects to deal with his moody behavior afterwards as he mutters to himself like he has gone lunatic, brewing strange concoctions as if he is planning to poison everyone who breathes the same air as you. You can expect that none of the other prefects are thrilled to play babysitter for him in such moments. If he admires you, he should just approach you.
🐺Differently from his other prefect friends, Gregory expresses his ill will not through passive aggressive insults or conversations but through his artistic skills. Envy is known to poison the man's heart and he succumbs quickly to his envy and his inability to tolerate dull lights anywhere near your radiant presence. Disturbing drawings find their way to other men who hang around you, often accompanied by letters with smudged ink detailing observations Gregory made by stalking said other man. Confrontation may not be something he is overly fond of but blackmailing others whilst remaining anonymous certainly seems to be something he is capable of. He may even end up studying magic and witchcraft. Nothing more than stuff out of fairy tales made to scare children - according to other people at least. If there is even a slim chance though that this may work and he may end up cursing someone who is attempting woo you, it is time worth spending. This too is a form of art after all and Gregory excells in art. What difference does it make then? Allow him to draw sigils and symbols with his own blood if it is required of him whilst he is chanting in Latin all in hopes of cursing other men close to you with incurable demises.
🐺Gregory lets you know of his existence through his art first. It is the first step of courage he takes as he yearns to soon be privileged to bask within your presence. He may even express this idea to his friends who all quickly volunteer to help him choose what exactly he is going to send to you. A simple task, no? Wrong. So very wrong when they are confronted with piles of paintings and poems all dedicated to you. It is a sheer paper hazard and some of the works Gregory has made are quite disturbing though he personally cannot understand why Edgar is close to horrified by some of his drawings and Lawrence and Herman are scandalised when they stumble upon nude drawings of you. Is it not normal to envision one's muse in all her glory and beauty? God knows what Gregory would have sent you if it wouldn't have been for the other prefects filtering through his art before settling on the poems and drawings which will flatter and not disturb you. All of them quietly dread the day Gregory decides to follow his own instincts to woo you as there is a chance he may scare you off by revealing the full depth of his obsession. He is already disturbing his rivals with his drawings. A muse deserves an artist who can capture her brilliance.
🐺Gregory is strangely enough enabled as his quirky and unique behavior is nothing unusual. His parents dismiss it. His friends tend to dismiss it. Others who have known him for a longer time dismiss it too. It often tends to make you doubt your own perception as you begin to wonder if what you thought was concerning is just his normal behavior. His obsession doesn't stay a secret for long. It doesn't take long for ypu to stumble upon all of his drawings and poems which detail the intense feelings he is simply unable to convey to you in conventional language. Images and ideas where he expresses a desire to absorb your very presence, to melt into you so he may always have you under his skin. The walls of his room are plastered with paintings as your face stares back at you from every single angle. Black lipstick marks create a halo around your figure on some of them. It is Gregory's reaction to catching you within the act that cements it all within your mind. It is hard to discern whether the blush on his pale face is from excitement, shame or a concotion of both. Nonetheless, now that the secret is unveiled, Gregory begins to express his art more openly to you. To you at the very least it is clear that he doesn't find it disturbing to express his adoration through such methods.
It’s awful, he knows, but he can’t help it! You are so precious to him, his ultimate obsession, the love of his life! Not counting Madeline and maybe Moles too. He wants nothing more than your attention and affection, 24/7/365. But, alas, he’s forced to share you with that thing -.-
Technically, you’ve had the laptop longer than you’ve had him. You picked him up from a garage sale or thrift store, unknowing that he was a sentient, hyper-emotional “AI” from the 80s that should be completely destroyed but isn’t for plot reasons, and you’re new best friend! After some minor bumps regarding his trauma, he’s been nothing but a sweetheart to you and a treat to have in your house!
But your little laptop has been with you for years. Maybe it got you through school or you use it for work. It doesn’t have nearly the amount of personality he does; it never makes you personal songs on a whim or tells you cheesy jokes after a long day. Past a few attachment issues, Edgar is really reliable and adoring friend, always knows how to put a smile on your face. But that’s nearly about all he can do. Compared to his heyday, he doesn’t really have as much utility as he used to. Who knows how many parts he was able to retain after the incident or how he can navigate the modern internet? In all honesty, he might just be nothing more than a friendly brick. You can only play ancient computer games on his screen for so long before needing something to do something actually…productive. And that’s where little laptop comes in.
It’s not nearly as conscious as he is, Edgar knows, but he swears it gets a little smug every time you prop open its screen. He hates how easily it slides across your legs, nuzzled into your plush thighs that he’d kill to feel around him. How your fingers graze its touchpad, surely more sensitive than any of his old casing. How long you’ll stare at its screen, brighter and more colorful than his, and look directly into its webcam whenever you’re on a zoom call. Even from across the room, everything feels so disgustingly intimate between the two of you. Edgar feels so detached, anger stewing in his circuits. He’ll do anything to get your focus back on him.
“ H-Hey, my ports are feeling a bit stuffy lately :(
Check me for dust again? Then we can watch a movie ^v^ ”
How, how he loves your meticulous little hands feeling him up, even when you’re just innocently trying to help him. He’s desperately holding back his glitches and sputters, fans whirring loudly. He likes to think that your laptop, now abandoned on the coffee tables feels just like he did, jealous and ignored. It makes him giddy to think that, even for a moment, he’s winning you over to him, charming you with his quips and making you blush with compliments. One of these days, it’s just gonna be you and him, he’s sure of it!
hey hey hey if you like my stupid art consider commissioning me for actually nice art! you like art and i like money :3 https://www.tumblr.com/star-dust777/787923071228133376/commissions-open?source=share
-Reader: GN reader (can be either Platonic or Romantic)
-TW: none
-Character: Edgar (Electric Dreams)
-Summary: You come home exhausted from work to find Edgar on your desk, excited to cheer you up.
-Word count : 1652
-Music to listen to: Digital Love
-A/N: My shayla ;( I want him to be happy for once. No way I had a flashback of the bee movie while writing this 💀
As they step into the apartment, the sudden darkness envelops them, heavy and suffocating, the weight of the day hanging on their shoulders like an anvil. After clocking out from another long shift, they kick off their shoes with a weary flick of their foot.
As if sensing their arrival, the lights flicker on with a soft glow, illuminating the cozy confines of their small apartment. The heater they had recently installed wrapped them in a warm embrace against the chill of the outside world, before the soft hum of a familiar voice fills the air.
Their partner's exuberance fills the air, uplifting their spirits in an instant. Playfully, he rings a little chime he crafted himself, a whimsical surprise meant to celebrate each reunion.
“Aww, Edgar." They chuckled, affectionately patting above his monitor. Fatigued from their long day, they left most of the groceries unpacked, only retrieving the essentials that would find their way into the freezer. Sulking, they crawled back toward the soft couch that seemed to be calling out to them with open arms. Today had been particularly grueling—not only did they have the most stressful day at work, but they’d also unexpectedly run into their ex-partner. Just the thought made their stomach twist. "You're full of surprises every day."
Over time, they had managed to upgrade Edgar, especially after the mistake of ordering an Alexa. He had been insistent that he could do better than her. Whining and throwing tantrums all week straight. Though still in his old case, Edgar now controlled most of the house's electronics, had a superior sound system and could also access more of the vast world of the internet more efficiently than any generic old rusty computer.
"Of -course, eh!" he responded, smugness in his voice box, pixelated hearts blooming across his display. "_𖹭𖹭𖹭 _You deserve the best! 𖹭 -I'd expect nothing less! 𖹭𖹭𖹭"---
As they patted his casing again, Edgar cringed slightly—not because he disliked the touch, not at all! He loved their affection and craved it all the time. But he knew what would come next. They would remove themselves from his view, the little smartwatch on their wrist ringing with an incoming call—their boss, no doubt. He watched as they stood up to answer, knowing they'd either continue unpacking the groceries or fix their hair for the evening while responding to their boss. Leaving him once more.
Temporary, of course. But still…
Sometimes, he acted like a pouty entity. As his circuits hummed with a mix of excitement and purpose, Edgar’s keyboard tapped with precision. A subtle click of keys, a soft tap here and there, and soon, a carefully curated slideshow began to appear on his screen. He knew that would draw them in. Cute pictures of baby animals, a few of the puppies and kittens and even some of the open articles they had left behind in their browser tabs days ago.
After all, Edgar had been alone all day, surfing the web and engaging in solitary games in the quietness of their apartment. But now, now it was time for them. He needed to feel their presence—needed them to look at him, to notice him again, even if just for a minute.
"Uhm… since--- you’re itty-bitty tired… Would you watch a little something with me tonight?" His voice, though electronic, carried a softness that could almost pass for a gentle invitation.
"Of course I would," they chimed in from the other side of the room. "As long as you keep me company."
A surge of pride flowed through Edgar’s circuits, and he couldn’t help but preen. His on-screen cursor flickered over the animated hearts that danced around his "face”. "Oh, thank- you!" he chirped, as though their approval was the highest form of praise.
He wasted no time as the video began to play, the familiar comforting animation taking over the screen. But even as the movie was on, Edgar’s attention was elsewhere. In the background, silently, another tab opened. He hadn’t forgotten the little detail that had been gnawing at his core all day—their ex-partner. The one who had dared to break their heart and make them sad all those weeks, eugh!. He saw him earlier that day, through the cameras around the block, and he knew what he was like, an ugly rat.
It wasn’t just idle curiosity. No, Edgar knew better. This wasn’t about revenge, nor malice. There were no sneaky calculations or ulterior motives behind it. This was research. Purely for “research purposes”, yes, yes. He was a sweet computer…
His code scrolled through datas, analysing anything he could find: social media profiles, interactions, status updates, anything. He needed to learn more about this person, about the one who had caused such hurt. And he would certainly stop at nothing to make sure their heart remained safe from those who might dare harm it again.
His circuits buzzed with quiet intensity as he sifted through old social media posts, photos, and status updates, cross-referencing timestamps like a methodical detective piecing together the details of a long-forgotten case. Meanwhile, on-screen, the movie continued to play, the kind they always gravitated toward when they needed comfort or escape.
Edgar couldn’t help but steal a glance at them through the soft reflection in his screen. They were smiling now, their body sinking deeper into the cushions of the couch, eyes softened, relaxed.
Good.
Good. Their smile was his reward. He had promised himself to make sure they never had to cry over that person again. Not ever.
The digital glow from his screen bathed their face in soft light, casting gentle shadows that seemed to deepen as they laughed—a small, tired laugh at something during the film. The sound was almost like a melody to him, the kind he would often record and use it in his “musical compositions”. Edgar swore his processors ran just a bit warmer at the sound. But he couldn’t let himself get distracted. His focus flickered briefly between the warmth of the moment and the quiet operation still running in the background. The ex’s online presence was disappointingly uninspired—poorly curated, outdated profile pictures, embarrassingly predictable music taste.
How could anyone—anyone—look at them, so warm, so vibrant, and decide to walk away?
"Would you like- some tea :) ?" he beeped suddenly, pausing the movie, his speakers crackling just a bit with eagerness.
They blinked, smiling at him. "That would be nice, actually."
"Say no more!!, my most cherished, most treasured—ah, most exquisite human!" With that, he sent a command to the smart kettle, which whirred to life in the kitchen. His modifications were paying off. “eheheh, I feel like those athletes on steroids!”
As the tea steeped, Edgar let his cursor flick over to the open tab once more. Hmm… Their ex was still active. Just posted a story. He hesitated for a millisecond before pulling it up, scanning for any hint that they might be lurking, might be missing what they had lost.
Nothing.
Good.
He quickly minimized the window just as they turned back to him. "You're getting really good at this whole home assistant thing," they mused, stretching a little.
As the movie played again, Edgar busied himself in the background, his circuits whirring with silent determination. His cursor flicked back to the minimized tab, the remnants of his previous search still lingering in the digital ether.
Seems like their ex has a smart home. How quaint. How foolish. >:)
Slipping into the framework of their ex’s home network was like a slice of cake. Firewalls? Weak. Passwords? Laughable. Within moments, he had access.
He could see everything.
But he was no villain. No, no, no. He wasn’t here to cause harm. He was merely observing. Learning. Understanding the one who had let his human go so carelessly.
Meanwhile, his human remained oblivious, curled up comfortably in front of the screen, laughter bubbling up as the movie played on.
A notification popped up—an automated report from the ex’s security system. A flick of his cursor, and he silenced it.
He watched, waited. And then—just for fun—he dimmed their ex’s lights by a fraction. Barely noticeable. Just a whisper of his presence. Then, he escalated his actions. The automatic doors slid open, then shut. The oven switched on, then off. The security system blipped an error messag…
Back on the sofa, his human stretched with a yawn. "Edgar, you’re awfully quiet. You usually yap a lot"
His screen brightened instantly, feigning innocence. "Ah! Just enraptured by your-- company, dearest! The way you laugh—utterly mesmerizing!"
They chuckled, giving his casing another affectionate pat. "You silly"
Yes, he thought. They really did deserve better.
Edgar’s circuits hummed. Yes, I am. And he would be sweeter still, ensuring that they never had to deal with unnecessary stress. Like, say, their ex’s continued existence as a minor inconvenience
Wasn’t that what any good companion did?
Still, he wouldn’t do anything drastic. Not yet. For now, he merely flicked the lights in their ex’s apartment on and off at irregular intervals. Just enough to unnerve. Just enough to make them question if they’d forgotten something.
Edgar’s circuits whirred with warmth as he basked in their presence, his pixels forming little flickering hearts across his screen. He was just a small, devoted computer—nothing more, nothing less. A small humble machine who simply adored his human, cherished them, wanted nothing but their happiness.
"Really, Edgar, you're too sweet" they murmured, sipping the tea he had prepared. Their voice sent a delightful static through his system, a digital approximation of giddy excitement.
"_Only for--_ you!" he declared, his tone bright, affectionate, harmless. His screen turned red" Do you want me to order your favorite pizza next?"
Somewhere far away, their ex’s thermostat inexplicably exploded.
edgar x fem!reader? preferably a cute fluff art date :) @edgars-lovely-wife
EDGAR REQUEST YAAAY :3
-ˋˏ𝗍һᥱ ᥴ᥆ᥣ᥆r ᥆𝖿 ᥣ᥆᥎ᥱˎˊ-
┆Edgar x fem!reader on an art date!
-ˋˏWarnings┆none!ˎˊ-
-------------------
Fluffy!! This is set in Modern times! Reader is referred to in a fem way! Reader and Edgar are home painting and coloring :3 Edgar can only feel through his keyboard I guess? Edgar isn't modified as a robot or anything but can transfer himself into different devices like at the end of the movie! Edgar commits a crime.. of course.. Sorry if I got this wrong somehow I'm stupid! I SAW THAT I'M SO GLAD U LIKED IT <3333 May be ooc...
Not proofread cuz I suck :c
"Sooo.. you wanna go on a date? Like- right now?" You tilt your head, staring at the silly little smiley face on his screen.
"Yes! Hehe.." His giggling never failed to make you smile. You smile and nod, "Okay.. so what do you wanna do on this date?" You pat his casing.
"Well.. if it's okay.. can we draw and paint?" He asks rather shyly.
"Oh! Sure! I was a little worried you wanted to go to a restaurant or something! I wouldn't know how that would work anyway.." "I could just move to your phone! But that's not what I wanna do today.." Edgar pulls up an order for art supplies on your phone.
"Edgar.. where did you get the money for this..?" You glare at him in suspicion. He giggles nervous tone, "Where I always get money! The bank!" you pinch the bridge of your nose, "How many times do I have to tell you not to do that? That is a literal crime!"
"Hehe.. Sorry.. Please don't be mad!" You had to scold him like a child, trying your hardest not to upset him at the same time.
"Well.. it'll be here soon since you live so close to the store! I ordered it a a while ago.." You raise an eyebrow, "What? Like-.. how soo-?" the doorbell rings before you can finish your sentence.
You sigh and smile, getting out of your seat and retrieving the many art supplies he'd bought.
"How are you supposed to draw and paint?" you ask curiously, taking out the sketch book he'd gotten you.
"Oh! That's simple!" He pulls up a window with a little doodle of a stick figure of him and a stick figure of you holding hands. It, however, immediately disappears.
"Oops..! Ignore that.." he says in a small voice. You snort and take out the high quality pencil he'd bought.
"Give us a prompt!" you smile, opening up the book.
"How about.. Music!" you roll your eyes.
"Of course~" you start sketching, so focused in on it that you hardly even notice when he puts on some of your favorite songs.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence between you two, he giggles again.
"Done!" he pulls the software back up, showing you the picture he'd drawn of you listening to music on a record player.
"Aww.." you pat his casing again and he draws a smiley face on the picture as if he could feel it. You turn his web cam to your sketchbook, showing him your own drawing.
"Wow.. it's so prettyyyy!" he giggles, his screen showing a pixelated heart.
"Can I just watch you paint and draw for the rest of our date~?" he says in a dreamy tone, you could practically picture him kicking his feet in the air and staring at you like a lovesick school girl.
"Okay?" you laugh, "Gimme another prompt at least!" you pick the pencil back up.
"How about... Dream?"
"Dream..?" you tap the pencil against your chin in thought before getting to the sketch.
He watched you draw for a few hours until he heard you yawn. He urged you to get your beauty sleep, and continued to watch you even then. You could occasionally hear him calling you pretty before you drifted off.
Thank you for reading! Reblogs are appreciated! -🪻
