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miryum · 5 months

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A Green and Silver Ring (Mattheo Riddle x Reader)

An arranged marriage between you and Mattheo, one that might lead to something beautiful

Word Count: 10.3k

I know I haven't posted in a long time but I have a plan trust the process. Also, this is me coming out and saying that I love Mattheo Riddle and he's amazing

Warnings: Swearing, bad and manipulative parenting from both Mattheo and reader’s parents, a lot of misogyny (a bit from Mattheo but he gets better by a lot and it’s not that bad), arguments, Tom isn’t Mattheo’s brother and Tom is a creep, arranged marriage, one bed trope, enemies to lovers, greek mythology reference, talk of kids, needing kids to carry on family lines, and kids. Mistress is the feminine term for master (so reader isn’t Mattheo’s side piece when I refer to her as mistress), old timey talk a bit, reader is a bookworm

From the desk of Ginevra

My dearest friend,

My parents have informed me of your engagement. I was ecstatic, yet surprised, when I heard the news. I was of the assumption that your parents were allowing you to choose your husband as your family line is secure in your brother and his wife. Yet, once I learned who your husband-to-be is, I was trepidatious.

My thoughts are with you, my darling friend, and I pray for you to write to me the moment you get my letter.

I hate to break the news, but you and your fiancé are the talk of high society. Never before have two such families been intertwined. Even I have had to scold my brothers for their gossip. They seem to forget that our families are close friends.

I do not ask why your parents have made such a decision. I know they are intelligent adults and surely must have a motive, but I admit that I am blind in that regard. Your engagement seems sudden and unwarranted to me. When questioned, my mother sighed and said I would understand when I grew older. My mother continues to baffle me. I have borne two children and a third on the way! If I am not mature now, I better gain some knowledge quickly.

Always remember that I am by your side. If you ever need anything, my door is always open to you. I am sure Harry will agree.

I love you, my friend.

Ginny

From the office of Lorenzo

Miss. L/n,

I believe we’ve never been formally introduced. I’m saddened to say that this letter is as formal as we’ll get - at least until your wedding. I am sure you must be taciturn and mercurial as of now. My father has told me much about you and I believe we’ll make excellent friends and confidants in our hectic world.

You’re to be my new half-sister, aren’t you? My relatives and friends are petulant to meet you.

Before any rumours (either about myself or your fiancé) hit your ears, I’ll put a rest to them. Bellatrix, your fiancé’s mother, had an affair with my father. They produced me and in return, I have the privilege of being your fiancé’s half-brother.

Being a bastard child, I’m no stranger to being ostracised and ridiculed. To be blunt, I’m sure that you will be ostracised alongside me and I believe that is one reason we can connect.

For rumours of my half-brother, I simply say this: do not fear him. He relishes in the consternation he places in other people, yet when he heard he was to marry you, I saw panic in his eyes like no other. It seems the tables have turned. He is hesitant to be wed, but you are not the problem. He simply doesn’t want to have the responsibility of another’s life on his. Your fiancé is used to belittling people - not supporting them as a husband should.

Any questions you have about your fiancé and my half-brother (whom in case I didn’t make clear, are one and the same), refer to me without any qualms. I am eager to meet you and hopefully make your transition into the Riddle family smoother.

I am well aware you have also lived your life in the upper echelons of society. But, as I’m sure you know, there are multiple circles in our complicated community. The L/ns, the Weasleys, and the Potters, for example, have grown their fortunes truthfully and innocently. They have earned the respect of their people and those whom they employ. The Riddles, Blacks, and Berkshires, on the other hand, have climbed the ranks in unconventional means and by skipping a few rungs on the ladder. They thrive and make their living on the terror and duress they cause those under them.

I’m looking forward to making your acquaintance.

Lorenzo Berkshire

P.S. I hope I haven’t scared you off.

From the office of L/n

Daughter,

You’ll be pleased to hear the engagement has gone through. Your mother and I met your fiancé last night. He seems like a nice man. He will be able to provide for you. His family is influential.

We will return home late tomorrow evening. You will depart for Riddle Estate in a week. Begin packing.

Your father

From the desk of Ginevra

Y/n,

You worry me with your lack of communication. Usually, you can’t wait to gossip with me. We have such fun at dinners and balls, yet with the most important aspect of yourself, you don’t respond. I’m simply worried, my friend. Are you alright? I can envision you curled in your bed, not letting anyone, even your nursemaid, into your room. Please do not let your impending marriage affect your state of health. It will turn out alright. Everyone I know (even me!) had apprehensions about their marriage. And with everyone I know, it turned out alright.

Misters Sirius and Remus visited Harry and I the day before last. They came to see James and Albus, but I know there was a hidden reason as well. They know of our friendship and came to ask if the rumours are true. As much as my husband adores them, Sirius in particular can be prone to gossip. The pair tittered and tsked when I told them of your fiancé. Sirius wishes to distance himself from his family, and I know he has pre-existing thoughts of the Black family, and by extension, the Riddles.

Sometimes I take a moment to gaze at the family tree upon my drawing room wall. It is full of interconnected lines and squiggles that sometimes, it makes my head hurt! The web of family ties is complicated and if we’re not somehow related already, I know that we will be once your marriage takes place. It seems the Black family spreads its roots into the Weasley family and the Riddle family- the latter of which you’ll soon be synonymous with.

Give yourself some grace. Your fiancé falls far from the tree; I am sure of it.

Please write to me. I need to make sure my closest friend is doing well.

Best wishes,

Ginny

P.S. Hermione wishes to inform you that, from what she’s heard, your Mr. Riddle is quite attractive. I have yet to hear any of the rumours myself, but at least your husband will be pleasing to the eye. Perhaps it will make the marriage more bearable.

***

Mattheo strode leisurely through Riddle Manor. It was one of the many estates his family owned, and it was soon to be officially his. Just as soon as he married the L/n girl.

The manor was spacious, which Mattheo couldn’t help but detest. How was he and a wife supposed to fill this void of empty rooms and dark halls? He knew servants and cooks would move in, but they wouldn’t occupy the dozens of upper rooms that were vacated.

For a brief moment, Mattheo couldn’t help but envision a set of children running around the halls. One of the children would run up to him, shouting, “Papa! Papa!” Mattheo would scoop the child up, grinning, and would carry them to their room. The room would be bright and cheerful, and maybe, just maybe, you would be sitting on a settee, cradling a newborn or helping an older child with their school work.

But for now, the room was dark and uninviting and he had yet to meet his future wife. He had seen a portrait of the L/n family and while they were in lavish, colourful clothing, Mr. and Mrs. L/n seemed cold and stoic - just like his parents. The children, an older son and younger daughter (whom he presumed to be you), seemed kinder and by their body language, Mattheo could tell that the two siblings were close.

Mattheo slowly made his way down the hall. There were three wings of the manor; two were residential and the other was designed for taking guests. The East Wing - in which he and Miss. L/n would stay - was also fit with an office for him. He was expected to take over half of the family business once he got married. The West Wing would remain empty for now, sans for a large library and the furniture in the bedrooms.

The boy knew that his bride was to arrive later that day. She would stay at Riddle Estate until the end of the week. Just three short days before they were to be wed in name. Mattheo would move into Riddle Manor tonight, giving servants time to wipe the dust off of tables, shine the silverware, and fluff the pillows.

Mattheo walked the halls of his new home. His mind was devoid of any thoughts. Perhaps it was simply because he was always numb. Even when he heard of his engagement, Mattheo didn’t make a fuss. He didn’t remember thinking anything. Nothing such as ‘Oh, I can’t wait to meet her!’ or even, ‘I can’t believe mother and father are arranging my marriage! She better be obedient.’

No, Mattheo had thought nothing of the sort. He had spent his childhood quietly observing his father and mother, noticing the amount of fear they could inflict on people just by silence. You didn’t have to be loud and dramatic to be powerful. You simply couldn’t be afraid to follow up on your promises - however deadly they were.

The only question Mattheo had asked when Bellatrix informed him of his engagement was, “and what do we gain from the L/n’s?”

Bellatrix had shot him an callous and apathetic look. “Do not ask questions you needn’t the answers to, boy.”

Mattheo had glowered, but shut his mouth.

As he neared the foyer, Mattheo couldn’t help but think how marriage was a component in all aspects of his life. When he got married to the L/n girl, he would inherit a portion of his father’s estates, company, and wealth. Mattheo chucked to himself. Maybe he should’ve gotten married sooner.

***

“Pray tell, why weren’t you here when she arrived?” Bellatrix snarled as she gripped Mattheo’s arm. Her nails dug into his suit as she dragged him towards the drawing room.

“I was busy,” Mattheo replied harshly. Love was not a thing that came instinctively to his family.

“Doing what? Planning your suidide?” Bellatrix scoffed. “I would march to the Underworld and choke Hades to bring you back.” Mattheo glanced down at his mother, hesitantly surprised. But he knew better than to raise his hopes and dreams. “We need this contract with the L/n’s,” Bellatrix continued and Mattheo’s jaw ticked. Of course. She didn’t love him; she never had. Her son was purely business. He should’ve known better.

“Maybe if you would tell me what the L/n’s provide for us,” Mattheo pulled Bellatrix back before she threw open the door to where you were. “Then I would be more complacent.”

Bellatrix sneered. “You think you’re smart, boy. You think you have everything figured out in that pretty little head of yours. But remember: you’re nothing without the Riddle family name backing you up.” She paused and licked her lips. “But if you must know,” Bellatrix sighed, giving into Mattheo. “The L/n’s just came into some very… lucrative land that we could gain from if you marry Miss. Y/n L/n.”

Mattheo’s eyes flickered to the drawing room door. After a moment, he asked, “is that her name? Y/n?”

Bellatrix stared at him, aghast. “You didn’t bother to learn her name?!” She scoffed. “With a son like you…”

She pushed open the drawing room doors and Mattheo trudged after her, muttering, “at least I know her name now.”

You had been waiting for seven minutes and thirty nine seconds in the drawing room of Riddle Estate, the trackage of time dependent on the old grandfather clock standing ominously in the corner. Its pendulum swung back and forth continuously as its second hand ticked by. Mrs. Riddle had left seven minutes and thirty nine seconds ago to fetch her son.

While the room was perfectly clean, not a speck of dust on even the highest chandelier, it was still a cold and morose room, yet oddly epochal. The wood was the darkest mahogany you had ever seen and the lights cast odd shadows on the dark green wallpaper that had inlays of gold.

Your teacup that you were trying to hold steady was filled with a sad excuse for tea. There was a ring of gold around the mouth of the teacup. On the table beside you, a notch that looked as if someone dug a knife into the surface caught your attention. It was the little things like this that you noticed when you had nothing else to do. Your mind was trying to distract you.

The door then swung open and there stood your fiancé, his stare daring you to oppose him.

“Uh,” you stood, your teacup and saucer still in hand. You quickly placed them on the table, right over the knife nick. “Y/n L/n,” you introduced yourself. You bowed your head in an informal curtsy.

Mattheo’s eyes flickered over your face. “Mattheo Riddle,” he said coldly. His voice was practically velvet. You didn’t mean to look him up and down, but you couldn’t help it. He was to be your husband, after all.

Mattheo’s hair coiled at the end and his eyes were just as dark as his curls. His nose had a scarred cut on it that looked as if it was just beginning to heal. Your fiancés cheekbones were practically sculpted from marble and for a moment, you believed that the gods had simply breathed life into a statue. Did this make you Pygmalion and Mattheo Galatea?

If it weren’t for their lethal eyes and stern posture, perhaps more would be friendly to the Riddles.

Mattheo spoke, “you’re to be my fiancée.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.” You had the urge to add ‘sir’ at the end, but you bit your tongue.

Bellatrix hissed something to Mattheo and thrust a small object into his hands. Mattheo rolled his eyes and stalked towards you. “My family ring,” he grumbled. He held out an intricate silver ring with three bands interweaving. A green jewel cut into a thin diamond shape sat steadily in the middle. “It has been in the Riddle family for generations. It’s tradition to pass it down to the wife of the firstborn son. And now that is you…”

He trailed off and handed the ring to you, it laying flat on his palm. You took it from him, trying to minimise contact with Mattheo. You nodded in thanks and slid it into your ring finger.

It seemed too concrete to fathom.

Mattheo stared at the ring on your finger. A muscle jumped in his jaw. “My… wife,” he murmured halfheartedly.

***

Three weeks had passed since the wedding and it was as if you had never gotten married in the first place. Yes, it was unsettling to wake up in a bed that wasn’t your own next to a man that you were supposed to call your own. But other than necessary, Mattheo had hardly uttered a word to you.

In the three weeks you had stayed there, you had seen Mattheo a total of twenty eight times, including mornings and nights when you were forced to sleep in the same bed.

Your mornings, afternoons, and nights were all incredibly boring. You took long meals, pushing your food around. Sometimes you just sat by the window and watched the wind blow bits of grass and dirt past the window. The servants were still extracting the dust between the couch cushions and you tried to stay out of the way, but it only made you feel more isolated.

Mattheo was holed up in his office day in and day out. He had now inherited a large portion of his father’s company and Mattheo was determined to uphold the honour bestowed upon him. He had drafted contracts, sold and bought land, and even hosted a few dinner parties for his associates.

You detested the dinner parties. Thankfully, Mattheo had yet to invite you to one - hell, he had yet to speak to you about the dinner parties. You had learned of the first dinner party when you had wandered downstairs one late evening because you were thirsty. You had stared at the group of strangers, all dressed in elegance, as they stared back at you in your night clothes. Not saying a word, you had sighed and returned upstairs.

You hadn’t been eager for the marriage, but wouldn't it befit Mattheo to show some affection? Or at least acknowledge your presence?

While you had continuously tried to get your husband to open up to you, his answers had been short and venomous.

It had been a long, monotonous day for you. You had returned to the master bedroom about two hours earlier than you normally would have if you were at home.

With the wealth that you came from, the opulence was sure to be evident, but you had underestimated the Riddle family’s prestige. When Mattheo had first shown you your shared bedroom, you had to allow a flicker of surprise break through your facade. The bedroom was larger than any room in your old home and had a large bed in the middle. The lamps on the bedside table were always dimly lit and the design of the room was the same as the rest of the house - dark and bereft of love and care.

Your hair had been brushed enough, but you kept brushing simply for something to do while Mattheo finished up in the bathroom. Mattheo walked out of the ensuite with a towel wrapped around his waist. His curls were plastered to his forehead and a bead of water ran down his sternum.

Your eyes flickered to his figure through the mirror, taking in the dips and curves of Mattheo’s muscles as he silently got ready for bed. You tore your gaze away, berating yourself.

You built up your courage and tried to think of a conversation starter. You commented, “my parents wrote to me today.” After no reply from Mattheo, you continued, “they asked me when we would give them grandchildren.” You set your hairbrush down and stared at Mattheo through the mirror, looking for some sort of reaction.

Mattheo hummed noncommittally and put on some sleep pants. He used his towel to begin drying his hair. “It would be behoove us to produce some heirs,” he spoke. His tone was dismissive, as if children were nothing more than an obligation or duty to fulfil.

“Right,” you muttered, knowing that an uninterested reaction was all you were going to get out of him.

You stood and moved towards the bed. “Goodnight,” you whispered, turning off the bedside lamp and tucking yourself into bed. Mattheo was still putting on his nightclothes and had yet to get into bed.

As you turned off the light and got into bed, Mattheo finished drying himself off and slid into his own pyjamas. He sat down beside you, but didn't bother turning off his own lamp. Instead, he laid against the headboard, reading a book. "Goodnight," he finally mumbled, not even looking at you.

You curled into your blanket. After a moment, you asked quietly, “what book are you reading?”

He looked at you over the top of his book. "None of your business," he replied curtly.

You simply uttered, “okay.”

Mattheo felt an unwanted and unusual feeling root itself deep in his stomach. He scoffed and said sarcastically, "fine. Go ahead and keep asking questions all night long if it amuses you so." He opened his book again and pretended to read.

A longing and lonely pang resonated in your chest at his harsh words. You didn’t respond and instead turned your face into your pillow. You had known that your marriage was to be loveless, but it still hurt at every unspoken word. Perhaps, if you had been five years younger when you married Mattheo, your spirit would still be alive with the juvenile belief that you could stand up to him.

Mattheo huffed and his gaze turned up to stare at the wall ahead of him. “If you’re so miserable, then why don’t you just leave?” he snapped, not even bothering to hide his bitterness. “I am sure your family would simply love to have you back.” He flipped another page in his book, not even bothering to look at the printed words.

“I never said I was miserable,” you answered quietly, even though Mattheo knew it wasn’t true. Perhaps, though, you believed it to be true. You took a steadying breath, closing your eyes.

Your husband smirked and leaned against the headboard. “What do you call your attitude, then? Why are you so downtrodden and defeated? Surely, you can’t blame me for being frustrated by it.” He knew that he should be taking account of making you feel this way, but he still tried to justify his behaviour.

“Goodnight,” you reiterated.

Mattheo sighed dramatically. “Whatever,” he grunted. He closed his book, threw it on the nightstand, and turned off his lamp. The room was encased in darkness except for the dim moonlight coming through the window. He shifted towards the edge of the bed, making sure a noticeable gap was between the two of you.

He thought back to your conversation. “Why don’t you just leave?”

It was too late now to apologise.

***

Mattheo let the door swing shut behind him, returning to Riddle Manor after an outing with friends. He glanced around, waiting for a servant to take his coat, but no one answered. An eyebrow cocked, Mattheo slowly walked up the stairs, hearing you instruct the servants on something, every other sentence of yours either containing, ‘please’ or ‘thank you’. Up on the landing, he found you directing a servant who was pulling a rack of your clothing. “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded. “Have you lost your damn mind? Are you trying to send a message or something?”

“You’ve made it perfectly clear that you have no interest in me, so I’m trying to make this marriage as civilised as possible,” you said diplomatically. “I believe that if I move to the West Wing and leave you in the East Wing, it will benefit our marriage.”

“What exactly do you hope to accomplish with this piteous attempt at attention?” he asked rhetorically. “Do you think it’ll make me want you more?” He stuck his tongue in his cheek, grinning incredulously. “You’re delusional if you think that’s even remotely possible.” He stepped closer to you, towering over you with anger in his eyes. “This is not some game, L/n. This is marriage. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

“I’m aware that we’re married, Riddle,” you retorted. “And don’t refer to me by L/n anymore. I am now a Riddle - just like you. However, I am not going to live in a state of constant sorrow and dejection. Having a wing of the mansion to myself may help.”

Mattheo’s jaw tightened as he stared at you, irritated by your resistance. “Fine,” he growled. “But don’t expect me to come running after you when you decide you want attention. You’re on your own now.” He turned away from you and walked into his now solo bedroom. “Just remember - this is your choice.”

You felt your anger inflate. “I thought you would like this!” Your voice rose and you tugged a hand through your hair. It was the first time in your marriage that you had fought back. “I have done everything I can to please you, yet nothing is enough for you!” Your voice turned desperate. “What do you want from me?”

He stopped in his tracks, turning around with surprise and disgust on his face. “Dammit, Y/n! Don’t yell at me like that!” His voice thundered, stepping towards you. “I never asked for any of this! I didn’t ask for a wife or for you to try so hard to please me! All of this is ridiculous.” His hand slashed through the air to make a point. “All I want is some space. Space to figure out what the hell I want. But let’s make one thing clear: I don’t care about you.”

“Am I not giving you space?” Your fists clenched at your sides. “I am moving out of the bedroom and out of your way. Yet, you erupt at me and get angry over nothing! You send me mixed messages and I don’t know what to do.”

Mattheo took a breath, trying to regain control over his emotions. “I am not erupting! Lord, you are so sensitive!” he snapped, running a hand over his face. “Can’t you listen for once? I am not sending you mixed signals. I am trying to figure out my place in this unorthodox situation we’re in.”

After a beat of silence, you asked firmly, “did you talk about me?” After seeing a flicker of confusion on his face, you clarified, “when you were out with your friends, did you talk about me? Did you rant about how annoying I was? Did you complain about marriage?”

His lips parted before taking a breath. “Yes, I talked about you,” he admitted begrudgingly. “I complained about how frustrating I find you and how frustrated I am with my parents for arranging this senseless marriage.”

“What did they say?” you insisted. “Did they sympathise? Did they laugh at me? Did they add fuel to your fire by commenting about how… how ‘needy’ and ‘sensitive’ I am?”

Mattheo made a low sound in his chest and rubbed his temples, frustrated by your persistence. “They agreed with me, yes. A few believed that you are too emotionally attached and sentimental. Others chalked it up to the pains of an average marriage.”

Your anger flared up and you said, “Let me tell you this: I never wanted marriage either. But I at least tried. I tried to be a nice and loving wife and a kind human.” You turned on your heel, marching out of the bedroom and towards the West Wing.

Mattheo watched you go, an unwanted feeling of guilt washing over him. He sighed and walked over to the window. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Why is everything so damn complicated?”

For the next couple of weeks, you stayed true to your word. You avoided Mattheo and his office and stayed in your wing of the mansion. After a week or two, you decided to explore the mansion, stumbling upon a magnificent library. You inhaled in veneration when someone cleared their throat. Mattheo stood behind you, raising an brow. After a silence, you said recalcitrantly, “you never told me that Riddle Manor had a library.”

He smirked at your thinly veiled hatred, amused despite himself. “Well, now you know,” he said dryly. “It’s a perk of living in a Riddle household.” He walked over to a bookshelf and began browsing for a book he required for a contract that was being drafting. He showed no sign of embarrassment or discomfort at your presence. “You may use it whenever you want. But don’t expect me to join a book club or anything juvenile.”

“I would never dream of it,” you said sarcastically. You step further into the library and can’t help but gape at the vastness. You trailed your fingers over the book spines, breathing in the smell of old books. You crouched down to examine a series of poetry titles. “I can read any of these?” you asked hesitantly.

He nodded and leaned against the shelf behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Feel free to read whatever you would like. They’re here for the entire household. Well, the servants don’t have time to read books, so in a Riddle household, the parents and children use the library the most.” Your hand faltered over the titles. “If you find something that catches your eye, go ahead and take it. I won’t stop you.” There was a hint of curiosity in his voice, as if he wished to know what topics and books piqued your interest. You hummed quietly, not fully acknowledging his words. You were already picking up a book and leafing through it. Mattheo watched you for a moment, his eyes softening briefly.

Everyday, you returned to the library. It was an escape from the walls of your room and the walls that Mattheo had put up around his heart.

Eventually, the servants recognised your routine and began to start a fire in the fireplace to keep you warm. They moved a loveseat in front of the fire that you gratefully used. You devoured the poetry collection, including Shakespeare and Edgar Allen Poe, and started on the classics. Every once in a while, Mattheo would come into the library, but he wouldn’t talk. He simply took a book and returned to his study. Sometimes, you wondered if he remembered you lived in the mansion with him.

Mattheo found himself frequenting the library more often, looking for books he had never needed before. A swell of pride filled him whenever he saw you by the fire, knowing that something in his home brought you such comfort. He still refused to speak to you, maintaining distance and ignoring your existence, but he found himself increasingly drawn to your presence.

One day, on a whim, he decided to take a risk and left a stack of his favourite books on the table next to your chair. That afternoon, you found the stack of books. You smiled despite yourself, though you didn't make any comment to Mattheo. You picked up the first book, sat down in the chair, and began to read.

A week later, Mattheo was hosting a dinner party for his associates. He didn’t say a word about it to you, though you heard the servants preparing for it. You decided not to go, opting to stay in your safe haven of the library.

After an hour or so of faint music, you heard the door to the library squeak open and your head whipped up. You saw one of Mattheo’s friends, Tom, enter and look around. He spotted you and his lips curled up into a smirk. “So you’re the wife we’ve heard so much about?”

Your stomach clenched and you replied, “I guess so.”

Tom’s smirk grew wider as he took in your terse response, enjoying your obvious discomfort. He approached you with a lecherous gaze in his eyes before asking, “and how do you find life as Mrs. Riddle? Are you enjoying your… arrangement?” His words dripped with sarcasm, not believing for a moment that you and Mattheo were married for love.

You stared at him. “It has its perks,” you said simply.

Tom laughed derisively at your response, not convinced by your nonchalance. “And what are those perks?” he asked, moving closer to you. “Extravagant gifts? Luxurious vacations? Or simply the privilege of being married to such a powerful man?”

You squared your shoulders. “I am powerful without a man,” you said sharply. “I do not need a man to determine my worth and prowess.”

Tom scoffed. “Really? How exactly did you become powerful on your own?” he asked, challenging you. “I find it hard to believe that you could ever achieve anything significant without the backing of a powerful husband behind you.” He leaned in closer, grinning.

You closed your book with a snap. “The L/n family,” you said, talking of your maiden lineage, “has had control over many estates and affairs for decades. Without Mattheo Riddle, I would’ve inherited half of it, second only to my brother. I would’ve had four auspicious companies at my ready disposal, capable of doing most anything. So, yes, sir, I would have been momentous without him.”

Tom’s smirk faded as he recognised your family name. He remained undeterred, however, stating, “that explains why your husband was so eager to marry you. He must see you as a valuable asset to his business empire.”

As you opened your mouth to retort, the door banged open and Mattheo strode into the library.

Mattheo had noticed Tom’s absence from his party, but when it became too long to be excused as a restroom break, Mattheo had asked his brother, Enzo, if he had seen where he had gone. Enzo had smiled a small smile and whispered, “Tom went to the library. Where your darling wife stays hidden.”

Mattheo saw red.

He barged into the library, a deadly, lethal, and borderline possessive look deep in his eyes. When he saw Tom flanking you, Mattheo’s expression darkened and his hands clenched into a ready fist. “What the hell are you doing here?” Mattheo demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “This is a private wing of my home - not some place for you to bother my wife.”

Mattheo moved closer to you, placing himself between you and Tom as if to protect you from further harm.

Tom quickly stepped back and placed a confident demeanour on his face. “I was simply having a conversation with your lovely wife here,” Tom gritted his teeth.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, showing clearly that Tom was lying and intruding. You saw Mattheo’s eyes flicker down to you, his eyes softening reassuringly before snapping back to Tom, malice in his gaze.

“Don’t lie to me,” Mattheo snapped at Tom. “There’s no need for any sort of interaction or conversation with my wife unless I am present.” Mattheo placed a hand on the top of your chair, his fingers gripping it and his bicep flexing slightly to warn Tom.

Tom’s eyes flicked with something you hadn’t seen before: fear. Fear commonly associated with the Riddle name. He adjusted his collar and straightened his posture. “Of course, Mr. Riddle,” he said bitterly.

You raised a brow. “I think it’s time for you to go now,” you said, your face stoic. Tom bowed his head slightly before exiting the library. You didn’t look up to meet Mattheo’s eye. You murmured, “you didn’t have to do that. I had it covered.”

Mattheo watched Tom until he completely left the room before turning to look down on you. His voice was threatening, “you may have been able to handle Tom, but I won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting or harassing you while you’re under my roof. Consider this a warning - if anyone tries to cross you again, they will regret it.”

“Perhaps you should tell your coworkers that. Not me,” you replied.

Mattheo’s expression was cold. “Fine. I will,” he growled. “I will not sit idly by and allow anyone to disrespect my wife.” He let go of your chair and adjusted the cuffs of his suit. As if in a business meeting, he said, “And consider this another warning: if you continue to act so stubbornly, I won’t hesitate to remind you of your place in this marriage.”

“My place in this marriage is your wife!” you cried out, finally standing up. “Your equal! Something you seem to forget until it’s convenient for you. Or until another man threatens your… your property! I doubt you see me any differently than this house or your assets.”

Mattheo grabbed onto your arm tightly, pulling you close and leaning down so his face was inches from yours. “Do not ever speak to me like that. You are not my equal - you are my wife and I decide what is best for both of us. If you cannot accept that, then you should reconsider your place in this marriage.” He released your arm and turned away from you, striding towards the door. “I suggest you reflect on your behaviour,” he added icily, leaving the room without looking back.

After he left the library, you let out a scream of frustration. You shoved the pile of books that Mattheo had carefully curated to the floor. They tumbled down, book after book, covers opening and pages bending. Tears pricked at your eyes as you examined the scene.

You slumped into your chair, the fire in front of your crackling softly, emitting a calming warmth.

Eventually, you fell asleep in the chair, tear stains on your cheeks. In the morning, you woke to the serene morning light filtering into the room - a vast contrast to your mood. The fire had dissolved into crackling embers. Tucked on top of you was a thick blanket and the stack of books that you had pushed over had been re-piled and stood majestically atop the table.

You sighed, knowing you should thank the servants for taking care of you and cleaning up.

After you walked to the kitchen, your footfalls heavy, you thanked the servants, who were finishing preparing breakfast. They exchanged glances and one piped up, “Ma’am, while we appreciate the sentiment, we didn’t do that. We weren’t aware that you were still in the library. We believed you had retired to bed before the social last night.” They paused and then added, “however, Mr. Riddle didn’t go to bed. He was in his study until morning light.”

“Oh,” was all you could say. You bid them an awkward goodbye before entering the dining hall.

Mattheo was already seated at the head of the table, his expression exhausted and distant. He didn’t acknowledge you when you approached, focusing instead on the uneaten plate of food in front of him.

You sat down opposite him and muttered, “the servants informed me that you blanketed me last night and cleaned up the books.” You hesitated and finally said, “thank you.”

Mattheo looked up briefly, his expression unreadable, but he didn’t respond directly. “It was necessary,” he said simply. “You should not be cold and uncomfortable in your own home.” He doesn’t make any effort to engage in conversation beyond that. Something was weighing heavily on his mind and he seemed preoccupied by it.

You hummed in response. Eventually, you stood and whispered to your husband before walking out, “you are not as cold as you want to seem. You needn’t keep the facade up with me.”

Mattheo looked up briefly before returning to his food. His expression relaxed, but he didn’t respond.

***

Later that day, Mattheo sat in his study as he always did. A knock came from the door and he glanced at the clock. It was a bit early for lunch to be delivered, but he announced, “come in.”

The door creaked open and your head peeked into the room. Mattheo’s brows furrowed - not with malice, but with scrutiny. You entered and sat in one of the two seats next to his fireplace. Silently, you cracked open a book you had brought and began to read.

Mattheo watched you intently, his gaze never wavering as he took in every detail of your face. He tried to find any acrimonious intent behind your actions, but you looked so peaceful. He found himself noticing the details of your face and your beauty as the fire cast warm highlights on your eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked eventually, his voice holding an armour of needed suspicion.

“Reading,” you said simply.

Mattheo frowned, not convinced by your answer. Why would you read in his study after the way he had been treating you? He leaned back in his chair, his work forgotten. “Isn’t there something more important that you could be occupying your time with?” he challenged.

“Not particularly,” you responded. “You’re in charge of the companies and estates. I have nothing to do. I thought I would accompany you. You must get lonely in a study by yourself.”

Mattheo narrowed his eyes, but ultimately nodded slowly. “Alright,” he agreed after a moment. “But don’t think I will stop working simply because my wife is here.” His posture grew taut as he began looking over documents again. “This is still my office and I expect you to behave accordingly.”

“I’m simply reading,” you murmured, a smile inching its way up your lips.

Henceforth, a routine was established. Every morning, you would knock on Mattheo’s study door, usually an hour or so after he began working. There was rarely conversation, the silence being broken by Mattheo’s scratch of a quill or you turning pages, occasionally being disrupted by the loud crack of a log in the fire.

One day, you had finished your book (it was an excellent book, one from the pile Mattheo had recommended) and stood to go retrieve another one. At the sound of your footsteps leaving his office, Mattheo’s head darted up and he suddenly asked, “where are you going?”

You paused and turned back to him. “I’m to get a new book. Unfortunately, as wonderful as this one was, it had an ending like all books do.”

Mattheo frowned and a hint of vulnerability broke through his exterior. “Get a servant to do it,” he offered.

“Well, I don’t know which one I want,” you counted, raising a brow in a smirk.

He huffed and shook his head, returning his eyes to his documents. He grumbled, “I will commission the servants to build you a small bookshelf for my office. You can keep your books there.” You stood, watching him for a moment, admiring him until his gaze snapped up. “Well, go get your book,” he said sharply. “… but hurry back,” he added in a mumble.

You finally smiled at him before exiting and Mattheo gazed at the place you once stood, trying to memorise how your lips curled up and your eyes crinkled when you smiled.

He rather liked it when you smiled.

***

“Are you alright?”

You sniffed and laughed. “Yes, yes. I’m being foolish.” You wiped some tears from your eyes. “My book is very good.”

Mattheo chuckled lowly. “And what made you cry, hm?”

“A daughter and father interaction,” you replied quietly.

“Was the father cruel to the daughter?” Mattheo laughed tersely, shaking his head at his documents. “Are your feelings not strong enough to withstand their wrath?”

You frowned at Mattheo, setting the book down. “No,” you corrected slowly. “The father was being kind to his daughter. He was supporting her and loving her; as a father should.” There was a pause as Mattheo looked up at you. “I know that the Riddles are a harsher family - I’ve known ever since I knew I was to marry you. But… but are you alright?”

You felt absurd asking the question. Yet, when Mattheo couldn’t meet your eye, a wistful sadness blanketing the room, you felt as if you should’ve asked the simple question weeks earlier.

For a moment, he said nothing. Then Mattheo turned in his chair so his back was facing you. "I'm fine," he finally answered, his voice rough and strained. "I am used to dealing with it, I suppose." Despite his insistence that he didn't need anyone's pity or concern, your words seem to have affected him more deeply than he wanted to admit.

“May I ask a question?” you asked softly.

Mattheo hesitated for a moment before nodding, his eyes never leaving the window as he spoke. "Ask away," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He then cleared his throat and said, "but I won’t give a warm and fuzzy answer."

There was a pregnant pause in the air as you gathered your courage up and suddenly thrust your fears upon your husband. “If we ever have children, which we’re somewhat expected to,” you added hurriedly. “I don’t want them to grow up in a household where they feel as if they have to vie for love or attention. And I don’t want me to be the only one giving them attention.” Mattheo turned his head so his face was angled toward you, but his eyes could still stray to the window if need be. “If we have kids, can you promise that you’ll love them? Even if you don’t love me?”

Even though your voice was steady, Mattheo knew of the vulnerability deeply rooted within you.

He nodded cautiously, his expression serious. "I promise," he said firmly. "I may not love you, but I will love our children unconditionally. They will never have to compete for my affection or feel neglected. I may not be a fond father, but I will provide for them and protect them as best I can." A protectiveness filled his veins just at the thought of something happening to his future children.

You nodded once, a sad smile on your face. “Perhaps we’ll have a big family. Enough children to start a sports team.” You smiled at the thought, laughing lightly.

Mattheo smiled, despite himself, imagining a large brood of children running around the manor. It was an oddly appealing idea, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. "We'll see," he said noncommittally. "I'd rather have lots of sons; they'll carry on the family name and ensure my legacy continues." He turned back around and attempted to focus on his work.

“And daughters too.” You frowned, staring at your husband, even if he wouldn’t spare you a glance. “Daughters can carry on the family name just as well as sons.” A muscle in your jaw ticked.

Mattheo scowled at your defiance, his eyes narrowing slightly. Why hadn’t you just fallen into line? "Fine, daughters too," he reluctantly agrees. "But make no mistake, they will be raised to be strong and capable like their brothers. The Riddle name demands nothing less."

“And the sons can be soft and caring and sensitive,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “I thought we agreed that they wouldn’t have to vie for affection. I thought we agreed that they wouldn’t have needless competition in their life. I don’t want them to grow up… like, well… you.” You finally uttered the words that had been hanging off your tongue dangerously.

Mattheo’s expression hardened as he clenched his fist tightly. "Fine!" he snapped. "They can be whatever the hell you want them to be! But don't expect me to sit back and watch while they become weaklings and failures. We need to teach them to be strong and ruthless like I am." He stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair in the process.

You jump up after him, crossing towards him. You whirled to a stop in front of him, jabbing a finger towards his chest. “Listen here, Riddle. Just because someone is kind and vulnerable doesn’t mean they’re weak!” You growled, “and just because you grew up like that, does not mean that’s the type of household I am going to have.”

Mattheo stepped forward and his hand flew up to grip your wrist. His eyes blazed with anger, but then something changed in his expression and he took a step back, looking surprised at his own reaction. "You're right," he admitted begrudgingly. "I shouldn't have assumed that being vulnerable meant being weak." He ran a hand through his hair, looking embarrassed, yet resolute in his decision. "But don't expect me to be a pushover either. I'll still teach them to be strong and independent."

“Strong and independent are good qualities,” you conceded. “Both for the boys and girls.”

"Agreed," he said. Mattheo straightened his cuffs and cleared his throat. "Our children will be taught to be strong and independent, regardless of gender. They will know that they are loved and valued by both of us, equally." He held out his hand to you, indicating that the argument was over - for now at least. "Deal?"

“Deal.” You shook his hand defiantly. It was a business deal, but a good deal at least.

Mattheo exhaled and brushed past you. “I’m to a meeting,” he informed you. It was a simple comment , one that was an offhand remark, but to you, Mattheo had just let you into his life. It was something he had never done before. Even if it was just a response to where he was off to, it was a window into his life. A life that now may have enough room to hold you.

Mattheo paused when he reached the door. “I never knew the way I grew up was wrong until I saw other families. I saw the parents bending down to listen to their children instead of hushing them. I saw parents comforting their children after scraped knees, not pushing them to the kitchen for some rubbing alcohol. I saw parents beaming when their child could plunk out the simplest of tunes on the piano. No one else got berated for being out of rhythm or playing a D instead of an E. I never saw another child get slapped by their parents or scolded as harshly as I was. It was around then I realised that something was wrong. But what was I to do about it?”

Words dried in your throat. You wanted to cry at his words, but you felt dried out. How could someone treat their child like that? It explained so much…

Your husband was a fragile man, you were just realising. And he was trying to pick up the pieces and present them to you in the only way he knew how.

"The stars remind me of you,” he said quietly, the change in conversation sudden. “I mean that in the best possible way.” His voice was the softest and most tender as you had ever heard it. You hoped he would keep speaking the melodies that made your heart sing in tune.

“How so?” you asked, afraid to break the plane of existence that you and Mattheo were carefully standing on.

"They are so beautiful, yet so far away. I may see them, but I can never touch them."

***

The servants didn’t know what to do. The master and mistress, Mr. and Mrs. Riddle, seemed to be at a ceasefire. The cooks lamented at how they had seemed to be doing so well. The maids thought they were destined to doom from the start. The butlers gossiped about Mr. Riddle’s letters to a Mr. Tom, terminating their long-term partnership. The scullery maid still had hope that the husband and wife would come to their senses and live a happy life.

It perplexed the servants when the mistress requested to move her belongings back into the master bedroom and the master looked on, a soft smile on his lips. It confused the servants when the Mr and Mrs began taking meals together and talking in hushed tones late into the night. And it bamboozled the servants when, one summer afternoon, the Lord of the household stood from his desk, cautiously moved to his Lady that was reading by the open window, and asked her to accompany him on a walk. She had accepted.

There was to be a dinner party, this time hosted at Mr. Draco Malfoy’s manor, that Mr. Riddle was expected to attend. Per usual, the master didn’t invite the mistress, but she was content to stay home. A maid briefly heard the madam whisper to her husband, “hurry home, please? I don’t like it when you’re away.” The maid had scurried away before she could hear the reply.

Mattheo returned home that night, just before the sun was setting. He climbed the steps, unbuttoning his cuffs and loosening his tie. The soft glow of light was still shining under your shared bedroom - something he still hadn’t gotten used to - and Mattheo couldn’t help but smile.

“Why are you still up?” he asked quietly when he entered the room.

“You promised to be home early and I wanted to see you before I go to bed,” you reminded him, a small book in your hands.

“Right, right.” Mattheo chuckled and shook his head, slinging off his tie and jacket.

“How was the dinner?”

Mattheo hummed noncommittally. “Not the worst. A couple of my good friends, Theo and Pansy, were there to help alleviate the pain of socialising. But… I found something odd happening.”

“And what was that, husband?” Mattheo took a moment to relish in the way that word curled off your tongue effortlessly.

“I found myself wishing you were there. Nay,” he quickly corrected himself. “I wished I was here with you.”

“Oh?” Your eyes flickered up towards Mattheo, a slight blush coming to your cheeks. “Why… what do you mean by that?”

Mattheo began to unbutton his shirt and moved towards his closet. “Well,” he admitted, mumbling to himself. “I simply mean that instead of having to socialise with people who are too tightly wound and whose only intent is to take my money,” he chucked his belt into his closet and rolled up his sleeves, “I would rather be at home with my darling wife.”

A smile inched up your lips. “Really? Tell me more about this darling wife of yours.”

Mattheo hummed, stepping towards the bed. He crawled down on the bed, leaning on his forearms to lean up towards you. “My wife… I’ve come to care deeply about her. She is a beautiful, elegant woman, one who has a fiery tongue about her and an intelligent brain that even I cannot rival. She always seems to get her way, even when I try to fight back. It’s as if my wife has a command over me that I have willingly submitted to. And I am not ashamed to say so.” He lightly caressed your arm, sending a trail of goosebumps up your skin.

“You must be careful, Mattheo,” you uttered. “That sounds an awful lot like love.”

Mattheo brought his eyes up to meet yours, the sting of tears building up behind them. His voice cracked as he said, “that’s the first time you’ve called me by my name, Y/n.”

Your lips parted in shock. “I- I didn’t realise. I’m sorry-”

“Don’t you dare apologise,” Mattheo demanded before reaching up to pull you into a kiss.

His lips were soft and meaningful against yours, hungrily trying to gather every ounce of love from you. His kisses were feverish at first, his strong hand coming up to cup your jawline, his fingers just teasing behind your ear, before his lips slowed. Mattheo was a starved man and he wouldn’t let anyone take away his only solace. He shifted so he could be closer to you, gently taking the book from your hands as you surrendered yourself to him. Your hands found his silk shirt, gripping it in your fists. He placed the book on the nightstand and moved so he was hovering over you, never once letting a second go by without feeling your skin against his.

Mattheo slowly, achingly pulled away from you and his eyes fluttered open to meet yours. “My darling, my love, my life,” he murmured, dragging a knuckle down your cheek. “I apologise for everything I have ever done or said that made you feel inferior. I would be happy to kneel for you in front of my associates and family members - just to show them how much power you have over me.” He took a breath before persisting, “I was foolish. I was incompetent. I didn’t realise how much love I held for you. It is, and always will be, only you. I will promise you this: you will be the only woman I ever touch, the only voice I ever want to hear, the only skin I will ever caress, and the only eyes I ever want to see. I will wake and fall, every morning and night, thinking of you. You are the other half of my heart, for it is you who I love. I will place the galaxies and stars in the night sky for you. If you are ever unhappy, my love, I will not rest until I see you smile again. If you are ever mad, my love, I shall smite whatever upsets you, even if it is I. And I would die a happy man if you could give me only an ounce of what I give you.”

Your breath shook and you swore Mattheo had injected ambrosia into your veins for you were sure your blood was singing with the love that was filling your soul. “I wrote a letter to your mother today,” you offered quietly, as if your mere words could ever compare to the love poem Mattheo had just gifted to you. “And I thanked her.” Mattheo’s eyes flashed with confusion. You continued, “I thanked her for birthing such a wonderful husband and for raising him. I know you u wish to renounce your family, but as of now, I want to thank them with all my heart. Mattheo, I love you.”

“And I you,” Mattheo whispered, bringing his forehead down to rest on yours. His nose bumped against your cheek and he couldn’t contain his grin anymore. “How did I ever get so lucky?” he mumbled.

You laughed lightly. “Luck? Fate?”

Mattheo shook his head and his nose brushed light curves over your skin. “No, my wife. Simply love. Pure, unconditional love.”

***

The house was bright, the curtains pulled as far open as they could be. Some servants scuttled around, holding laundry or preparing for dinner. Meanwhile, Mattheo strode leisurely through the halls, smiling lovingly as his nephews chased each other through the halls. “What do I say, boys?” he called after them.

“Have fun, be safe, and don’t get caught!” they yelled back before running around a corner.

Enzo jogged after them and grumbled to Mattheo, “it’s not your duty to rule them up.”

“As their favourite uncle, yes, it is.”

“Your wife is in Andromeda’s room,” Enzo told his brother before sprinting off after his sons. Enzo wasn’t usually at Riddle Manor, but today was a special day. It was Orion’s birthday.

Mattheo chuckled to himself before Orion raced up the steps, panting. “Papa! Papa!”

Mattheo grinned widely and scooped Orion up. “Are you alright, hm? What’ve you been up to?”

“Aunt Pansy’s carriage just pulled up!” Orion bounced in Mattheo’s arms, beaming.

“And you’re not even dressed,” Mattheo stared at Orion, pretending to be stunned. “Where’s your mother, Ori?”

“She’s helping Andy get dressed,” Orion announced. Mattheo nodded and carried his son to his daughter’s room. “Mum!” Orion cried out, seeing Y/n standing behind Andromeda, knotting her hair into a braid.

“Oh, my darling,” Y/n tied Andy’s hair up before crossing to Mattheo and taking Orion from his arms. “Are you excited for your birthday?”

Orion hummed excitedly and wiggled down from Y/n’s arms. He darted to Andromeda and wrapped himself around her in a tight hug. Andromeda grumbled, but allowed him to cling to her as she finished her hair and rouge.

Mattheo took Y/n’s hand and pulled her back toward him, nudging his nose against hers. “Look at that,” he murmured, reaching down to play with the silver and green ring on your finger. “Mine.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. Slowly, as to not arouse suspicion from your children, he backed you up and caged you against the wall in his arms. “Seven years with you and two beautiful children to show for it.”

“Hey, mum? Where’s my- eugh!” Andromeda turned around and reeled back from the scene in front of her. “For the love of Salazar, please get a room!”

“We are in a room.” Mattheo smirked, glancing up from the crook of your neck.

“Aren’t you two, if I'm doing my calculations correctly, nearing thirty years old?” Andromeda tsked and rolled her eyes.

“You believe that simply because we’re getting older, I’m going to stop loving your mother?” Mattheo chuckled before pressing a light kiss to your jawline.

You shivered and tucked your face into your husband’s chest. “Matty, spare the poor children,” you chastised lightly. “What do you need, darling?” you turned towards Andromeda.

“You used to call me that,” Mattheo whined. He stepped back from you, letting you out of his embrace.

Andromeda sighed and asked, “where is my white shawl? It’ll go well with the dress I’m planning to wear to Orion’s party.”

“Why does it matter what you wear to Orion’s party?” Mattheo asked, puzzled.

“Because Albus Potter is going to be here,” you said as if it were obvious.

“Harry Potter’s son?” Mattheo asked incredulously. “That scumbag?”

Both you and Andromeda ignored Mattheo and Orion left the room at the sound of Aunt Pansy entering the foyer and shouting out for her favourite nephew.

“Your shawl should be in the library,” you answered. “Ori was using it as a blanket yesterday.”

Andromeda sighed and turned towards the door. “He needs to stop taking my things. Just last week he stole my candelabra so he could read in the dark. Perhaps you should accelerate his schooling. He’s getting bored, you know.”

“We’ll raise our own son, thank you, Andromeda,” Mattheo raised a brow. Andy huffed and and flicked her dress out behind her dramatically, exiting the room. Mattheo turned to you and said, “they get that from you. The love of reading.”

“Yes, but they get their flair for the dramatics from you. And lest us not forget, you keep fuelling our love of literature by buying more books and expanding our library,” you countered.

Mattheo hummed. “‘Tis true. But how could I live without spoiling my wife and children?” He whirled you around in his arms and pressed a long kiss to your lips. “Speaking of children, what would you think of expanding our family?”

You let out a laugh. “You simply like the act of making a bigger family.”

“I love my children too,” Mattheo defended.

You reached up and brushed some of his hair away from his face. “Yes you do,” you smiled up at him. “You love your family very much.”

“Always.”

2K notes · View notes

love-belle · 8 months

Text

you're the best in my life and i lost you !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which they truly are the best in each other's lives but they lost them.

for when you finally get to know that maybe it is unrequited. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

prequel - i'd never walk cornelia street sign ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language

author's note - finally here!!!!! i REALLLLLLY hope u like it !!! i have so much planned for this week and i hope i can show u all of it soon !!! thank u so much for reading i love you <3

tagged - @willowpains @lexxlouuu @topaz125 @leclercloml @sophiaasf @slut4peterparker @crlsummer @ananyasr1bughead @official-chicken-little @jspitwall @lovely-blackinnon

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liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 3,927,588 others

yourusername my sophomore album "good riddance" is finally here and i'm soooo excited for u all to hear little pieces of my heart sewn together. every single syllable is what i feel and what i have been feeling. we all have that one person that we absolutely refuse to talk about so just like that, i ended up writing a whole album instead. thank you sooo much for supporting me, i love you all forever. and to the inspiration behind this, thank you. you were good to me. you're the best i've ever had.

19,628 comments

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lilymhe LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEE

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-> username the worst transition ever btw

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liked by yourusername, landonorris, danielricciardo and 2,672,882 others

charles_leclerc so proud of you. seeing you live your dream is the best feeling ever and i hope you get to see the world just like we talked about. things aren't the same but my support for you will always be unwavering. this is what you were made for and i couldn't be more happy 🤍

tagged yourusername

16,628 comments

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username so u mean to tell me that he went to her show after MONTHS even when they're not together just to support her???? bc he wants her to see the world even if things aren't the same????? what the fuck

username i did NOT need this at 7am in the morning come back later

username babe wake up new y/ncharles lore js dropped

danielricciardo amazing show!! aren't you glad i dragged you there?

-> charles_leclerc i literally booked the tickets myself what are you on about?

-> danielricciardo let me have this one mate

username last night was UNREAL bc wdym y/n's ex fiancé was there and wdym she sang full machine and the blue for him and wdym he came on stage and spoke so fondly about her and WDYM MAX VERSTAPPEN AND LANDO NORRIS THREW WATER AT THE AUDIENCE JS FOR THE HELL OF IT

username this is my roman empire

username i know he was dying inside like

username imagine fumbling a bad bitch like y/n couldn't be me LMFAOOOO

username y'all brutal in the comments let my man grovel in peace

landonorris nice caption. now say i love you.

-> charles_leclerc i love you lando

-> landonorris not to ME to HER (i love you too 😘😘😘🥰🥰🥰😍😍😍)

-> charles_leclerc oh (no)

username SCREAMING DANIEL SNATCHING Y/N'S MIC FROM HER AND SINGING HIS FAV SONG FROM THE ALBUM

-> username THEY'RE SO UNSERIOUS 😭😭😭

username this caption will haunt me in my dreams

username is it js me or did her voice crack when she said "now i know it's unrequited"

-> username NO BC I FR THOUGHT THAT IT WAS JS ME

-> username she genuinely looked on the verge of tears throughout "405" like

-> username imagine being y/n and singing the most heartbreaking song ever about ur ex IN FRONT OF UR EX

username no bc this feels like a confirmation that they'll never be together guys why does this feel so final i want my parents back.

username SCREAMING WHATHEBRCUKXKSKA

carlossainz55 surreal night. loved seeing you lose your cool every time she was nearing your side of the stage

-> charles_leclerc just because we can speak doesn't mean we should

username the camera switching from y/n to charles when she sang "i know it won't work" was so me like the camera person is messy js like me fr

username genuinely in ruins on my bedroom floor rn y/ncharles nation we LOST

username no bc i CANNOT enter their friendship era ever again after seeing what i have seen for the past few years

-> username fr like people don't GET IT!!!! they were supposed to get MARRIED

username forever crying bc of them 💔💔💔

yourusername forever grateful for u!!!! thank u so much 🫶🏼

*liked by charles_leclerc*

yourusername u deserve the world

*liked by charles_leclerc*

username charles replying to everyone but y/n on the post HE made for HER makes me so idk like it's weird

username no bc why do i have the feeling that y/n and charles are NOT good and this is js something done for "damage control" or wtv

username im.

#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #social media au #fake instagram imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc instagram au

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deadbeat-motel · 4 months

Text

ᐯᗩGGIE ᗩᑎᗪ ᑕᕼᗩᖇᒪIE ᖇEᗪEᔕIGᑎ

These two are simpler than the angel dust design I did since I didn't have a lot to go off of. Posted on Valentine's Day because yes I can.

I don't think Charlie is significantly different from her Pilot design because I genuinely think it was the best design from the cast (before the redesign).

Thoughts below, though TW for the creepy charlie image at the end:

My issues with their Original designs:

Vaggie:

The giant "X" over her eye is really distracting and even world-breaking because

1. Why had no one put 2 and 2 together that the only character in Hell who has a visible 'X' mark on her face might be related to the angels who also sport that X mark on their faces.

2. Why is it shaped like an X? Her eye was taken out via a single slash.

3. If the hair's purpose was to cover it, why would it show through it? What's the point of the hair then?

The hair that was supposed to cover that wounded eye looked so ugly and confused as to what it should be doing. I mean every shot that showed that thing in a sideview shot of Vaggie felt like the animators had to make their own guesses as to how that was supposed to look like. It was distracting for me personally and I hated it so much.

It's been said over and over again, but her clothes look like she works at McDonalds. I get needing to change her outfit so that she looks like she works at the hotel, but it's just been poorly designed.

Why change her clothes' colors from white to red? the white helped her stand out from Hell and the Hotel's majority red background. (In the finale, she at least has a non-red attire)

She's also one of the very few women in HH and she falls under the skinny stick side of it despite being an angel exterminator.

Her hair is kind of hard to visualize looking at in any way other than what it is when it's static. However, when it changed into a ponytail or a bob, it's actually really nice to look at.

Unsure of what that bow's purpose is for the design.

Charlie:

Charlie is a simple but very confused design. The pilot design was a lot more coherent than the current show design

It's disappointing to see the bouncy Pilot hair go and be replaced by that boring bubble braid of all things.

Her undershirt peaks out of her tuxedo.... why???? to separate the top jacket and the pants? You wouldn't need to do that if her pants were a different color like the pilot design.

Thought about it and was confused, as a demon with an angelic father, why didn't she have wings as well? She didn't need the 6 wings like Lucifer but maybe a pair of one would appear?

Out of all the characters for the show's redesign, Her's was by far the MOST infuriating to me. Her pilot design wasn't perfect but it was good, they had to downgrade her for some reason.

I didn't have much to say about Charlie. it basically sums up to "the Pilot design was better".

On to the thought process for these two:

Valerie the fallen:

Yes, she got a rename. Sue me.

I had to remove the moth aspect of her design because it doesn't seem like it makes sense for a heaven-born to follow the sinner's rule of "gaining features based on the life you lived" since she basically never lived right?

In this redesign (and eventual rewrite), Valerie is not ashamed of her exterminator background. In fact, she was known as the most recent "fallen" in hell. her short stature doesn't make her less of a threat to the demons.

She's also visually thick with muscle because why not let one of the show's women have a body type that isn't stick-thin?

She's using the wings that were torn off of her as both an interesting article of clothing and as a way to remind others and her that she is (or more accurately 'was') an angel who could kill them if she wanted to.

Her clothes are pure black underneath the pale feathers to show that while she is an "angel", deep down, she is far from a good person.

She's also getting an actual skin color because from what I gathered myself from the show's heaven. Most of the souls there still retain a human appearance (Adam, Lute, St. Peter, and the other random human angels up there still look human..... but just don't mind the fact that most of them are white.)

Her hair is that ponytail she had in the finale because as much as I didn't like that episode, some designs looked actually decent.

Also, her hair actually covers the eye scar properly.

I wanted to keep her ribbon as a splash of brightness on her design but the OG ribbon looks a little out of place on a warrior so It became that (Plus it pays homage to her OG moth influence with its shape looking like the fluffy antennas of the moth)

Gave the spearhead a little bit of detail on it plus a chipped side so that it has a bit of charm as an old weapon she still decides to keep around.

A note about Valerie's design is that I haven't tackled the armor of angels yet so I was unsure of what pieces of the undesigned armor to give Valerie as of now.

Charlie:

I honestly actually enjoyed her Pilot hair, so I tried to put it back and also simplify it a bit so there are not a lot of strands for me to keep track of. Plus it was a genuinely cute design for her. (There's a reason that version was used in the Verbalase video.) <- I'M JOKING

Replaced her button nose with a goat's because a friend has commented how it looked like the noses of the women in a Goofy Movie and I will never be able to unsee that.

Her hair is also a lot brighter compared to her washed-out blonde color.

She has the same design thought process as Valerie, Covering the darkness of her true nature with white fluffy fur which is stylized like feathers at its ends. She has pitch-black skin underneath and looks like a proper nightmarish demon like the image below.

I ditched the tuxedo look, since almost all the cast has a similar outfit already, and gave her a jumpersuit instead. (Idk what it's really called but that's what I think it is). It's a light grey because she's a mix of bad and good (though a bright grey because she prefers to be on the good side)

Her horns are there and visible because yeah it's cute but also helps her read as the half-angel/half-demon character she is.

Tiny goat tail because can you imagine every time Valerie holds the rare angel smile of approval, her tail is visibly wagging in glee and excitement???? My heart would die. I love these lesbians with my life.

Has wings from her father.

Anyways, those are my thoughts and redesigns... I wanted to add more details to them but I didn't really know what to add that didn't feel unnecessary.

Also bonus! Concept art of Charlie's true form:

#vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel redesign #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #deadbeat motel rewrite #deadbeat motel redesign #deadbeat motel charlie #deadbeat motel valerie

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blackopals-world · 11 months

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Malleus: Marry me!

Noble!Yuu: I will not.

Malleus: My love please. If it's not you then I'd love no one else.

Noble!Yuu: Tragic. How tragic. Don't you understand how impossible it is for us.

Malleus: I don't understand. You love me and I love you.

Noble!Yuu: I'm not naive my dear. I'm not some young sycophant who knows nothing of the world I would be walking into and more than that I have my own responsibilities. Do you think your people will accept a human as their ruler?

Malleus: I can make them. Given time they will accept you.

Noble!Yuu: You can not. You can't make them do anything just because you are king. No matter how powerful you are you can't control anyone. You'd be a tyrant thinking like that.

Malleus: I will protect you!

Noble!Yuu: And be a powerless consort who must rely on you to do everything for me. How humiliating would it be to be ignored and shut away in my own castle? How depressing to only have you to lean on and have no confidence in myself. I was raised better than that and educated for better.

Malleus: You'd be safe. Wouldn't you be happy with me?

Noble!Yuu: I would at first. I'd feel aflutter at the thought of always having you to make things better and not having to worry about petty trifles like money like some peasant. But then I'd be left alone as you govern your nation that I am foreign too. I'd grow to resent you as I feel impotent to change anything other than the decor of my room and even then the traditional fea lifestyle will likely prevent it. I'd never be your equal.

Malleus: You wouldn't be just my consort. My people will understand once we are married, they know how dragons are. They won't have a choice but to love you.

Noble!Yuu: Wishful thinking. Fea are slow to change and they have not moved on from their hate of humans. What can I expect but poison in my cup or protests against us? Not to mention the fate of any children we have. What will they think of a half-fea heir?

Malleus: ....

Noble: Sure a few half-fea here and there isn't much but as their ruler? A child of tainted blood who will only live as long as a human. A magicless human's child at that. In a world where power matters? Blasphemy. You don't think they wouldn't usurp you for that alone long before a child is born? Tell me my love do you think that we will have a fairy tale ending and happily ever after?

Malleus: I don't understand where this is coming from. Why can't we do what will make us happy? Forget about all these silly what-ifs and treasure each other.

Noble!Yuu: We are not at liberty to do such things. We were born in a position of power and trusted to use it for others, not ourselves. Of course, I want us to be happy and to be together. But I can't ignore our differences for the sake of love. Love today could be a tragedy tomorrow. I will not live for long, less than 10 years from your perspective. Can you stop time? Can you prevent death? Will you lose yourself to grief after I'm gone? Do you not think I will not suffer the older I get knowing how much I will hurt you when I pass? Do you think all of this only effects you?

Malleus: Yuu stop! Stop...I can't. Please don't ask anymore. You've clearly thought a lot about this, more than me. I've been short-sighted. But if I could find a way to fix these problems then you would be mine.

Noble!Yuu: Without hesitation.

Malleus: Even if you would cease to be human?

Noble!Yuu: As long as I'm not a monster or four-legged beast then yes.

Malleus: Would you become as fea?

Noble!Yuu: ...yes. I wouldn't take it lightly but yes. Is there even such a thing that could happen?

Malleus: I'll make it possible. For you.

(I think as a Fandom we should acknowledge that being with Malleus would be no cakewalk. There are many problems with it but that doesn't mean we should forget about the bad parts. We all like to fantasize but we should realize that Malleus is complex and so is love. Hardships make stories good and trials make love stronger. I will never understand why some prefer ooc content where everything happens according to what they want with no conflict. How boring and unearned. I love you enough to hurt you so that you can be fulfilled.)

#noble!yuu #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland incorrect quotes #mallyuu #malleus hcs #malleus x reader #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x yuu #malleus draconia x reader

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bunnyshideawayy · 2 months

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a rumored bastard and a proven, disinherited, legally illegitimate recognized bastard are not the same.

Rhaenyra’s sons are rumored bastards, i know the show has a lot of team green stans feeling bold but just as in the books, they are never legally considered bastards in the show either. they are speculated to be via their physical features and Laenor’s apparent sexuality, but since Laenor and the KING (btw Westeros is a absolute monarchy, meaning the king IS law) both claim all three boys as legitimate heirs, unless someone demands a medieval dna test, those kids are legally Laenor’s true sons.

this is apparently a very hard concept to understand for some, hell even Alicent in the show says something like “we can all tell” which fair point, but that is not proof enough. looks, accusations, and rumor are not the same as actual proof of adultery or bastardy.

someone i was having a “discussion” with used Joffrey as an example to point out a flaw in my logic, but ultimately proved my point. Joffrey was a rumored bastard. Ned himself had no more proof than Alicent does, just hair color and a hunch, so Joffrey was never legally disinherited from the line of succession. I hate to defend either of these men but King Robert never publicly disowned him and called him bastard, which is why Joffrey ascended to the Iron Throne. now the rumors did hurt, and caused huge political issues leading to the War of 5 Kings, which is exactly why Alicent and Team Green is so insistent that Rhaenyra’s children are illegitimate, they know they cannot legally or physically prove her children are bastards, especially when Laenor and the King are claiming them are true born, but they can spread the rumor and call into question Rhaenyra’s honesty and morality. think episode 8 when team green takes their chance with Vaemond to attempt a coup of sorts for the Driftmark Throne, why would the succession of Driftmark need to be settled if Rhaenyra’s sons are true born? why would Alicent / Otto need to make this decision in place of the sick king and mia lord of tides who both had already been stating Luke would inherit for years. it’s all apart of the scheme to tarnish Rhaenyra’s reputation as Vaemond has no other proof either, and promptly loses his head (both metaphorically and literally) by calling the recognized heir to the throne a whore and her children bastards with no proof in front of the whole court.

it is a political scheme on both sides, Alicent cannot prove anything, and Rhaenyra cannot disprove the rumors no matter how many times they are claimed as true born sons. Rhaenyra has to live in the comfort the law gives her, as legally her sons are seen as legitimate, and thus legally they are protected. and from an unbiased pov with both in universe and historical references, those kids might be bastards in actually but not legally.

Rhaenyra goes through hell to keep her children legally protected, not only for their sake but for hers because should the truth come out both her and Laenor would be seriously punished, i wouldn’t go as far as executed but that would depend on if Viserys was old and bed ridden or dead. which is why im making this incredibly long post repeating myself in every point. you can argue all day about Rhaenyra’s children and their parentage but i am making this to make it clear that her children are not *legally* bastards by Westeros law. in order for Jace, Luke, and Joffrey to be illegitimate bastards Laenor, Rhaenyra, Harwin, and/or Viserys would have to publicly acknowledge them as such and disinherit them. no, Laenor and Viserys dying do not magically make Rhaenyra’s children legal bastards either. they would, again, need to be claimed and proven as such and disinherited.

and at the end of it all, true or not true, the rumors made a lasting impact on the story. so much so this fandom is still debating this topic, and frankly i am dreading the season 2 release when all the bad takes and bad faith arguments start up again.

anyway other famous rumored bastards are in Targ history are:

Maegor

Daeron II

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lovingmattysposts · 6 months

Text

My Best Friend’s Brother

P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12

pairing: y/n and Chris sturniolo

alright guys this is my first post so treat it nicely, but this is only the first part so let me know if you want the next part :)

Summary: You & Nick have been best friends forever. There was nothing you couldn’t tell him. You move in for a little while after something bad goes down in your own home, but that means living with his brothers. One brother you got along with, the other not so much….

warnings!! Mentions of a toxic, abusive household, cursing, mentions of not eating well, puking, mention of anxiety and depression

no smut yet…

Pain. Pain and suffering. Something I was born from and have lived to deal with my entire life. Sometimes I thought I was at my very worst. I would think to myself, there is nothing worse than this. The pain corsating through my entire body when my parents would scream at me. Or when my father would throw things at me and my mom turned a blind eye. I would stare up in my bedroom wishing for it to all go away. The pain at least.

I thought that one day the pain would just go away, that I would eventually end up numb. But when they day came, it didn't. The pain was still there, just as it was before. Just the reaction was numb, at least the aftermath. Back then, my childhood filled with not toys and cherished memories, but hiding, screaming, fighting and holding my teddy bear wondering why my parents didn't love me the way they were suppose to. The way my friends parents loved them. All the trips to Disney land I never got, all of the empty presents under the tree, the forgotten birthdays, they still weren't the worst of it.

This was.

I blinked my eyes up towards the stars, still silent. The only sounds between us were the chirping of crickets. Crickets who probably had parents that cared about them more than I did. I swallowed as I watched a plane pass over us silently. Silence killed some people, but not me. Sometimes it was the only peace I ever got. Silence meant good. It meant everything was calm. Everything was okay. I craved silence.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Nick whispered beside me after a few minutes. I blinked at the sky, not turning towards him. Nick was my best friend. There was nothing I couldn't talk to Nick about. He was always there for me even when I would just sit in silence, he would just be there. He would always be there. He's the greatest best friend of all best friends in the world.

Nick sat up peering down at me as I glanced from the sky to him.

"How are you feeling?" He asked softly. I still hadn't cried. That was the scariest part of it all. Usually my emotions would take over me. Hitting me with the hardest gust of wind, like a truck. But this time it didn't. I was numb. I waited for the reaction, the emotions to come, but it hadn't yet. I was starting to think it would never come.

"Numb" I said quietly. Nick frowned at me and brushed a piece of hair behind my ear. "I'm always going to be here y/n. I promise" He smiled. I just looked at him. I sat up looking down at my hands.

"I feel like I should be happy right?" I said looking up at him. He just listened. "But I'm not" I shook my head. I wish I could pinpoint how i was feeling but I couldn't and I hated it. I sighed. "He's still my dad" I breathed. Nick nodded. Nick knew everything about my family history. I told him everything. He was the first one I called after it happened. He picked me up and we drove where we always came to think. Lincoln Park.

I loved it here, because it was quite. No loud noises. No screaming, no fighting, just good memories. One of the last places for me that only held the good memories.

"Did you tell Matt and Chris where you were going?" I asked looking at him. He nodded. He never lied to his brothers and I admired that, but it doesn't mean I want them to know. I looked down. "I didn't give them any details, I just said that it was your dad and that you needed me" He said looking at me, clearing my mind. I nodded.

Matt and Chris were Nick's brothers. He's one of three. They are triplets. A bond that could never be broken. I wish I had some family like that. I liked them enough. I liked Matt, he was quite, but nice. Chris was harder to get along with. We are both strong headed people with lots of opinions so we tended to butt heads a lot. I wouldn't consider them my friends, but they were Nick's brothers. They had a part of Nick in them, which made me care for them.

"A part of me wishes he would have done this when I was born, like he threatened" I breathed, feeling like everything inside of me was coming out. "But a part of me knows that If he did my mom would have hated me and blamed me my whole childhood for him leaving, like she's doing now" I said shaking my head thinking about it. Nick reached over and put his hand on my leg.

"It's not your fault y/n. Your dad sucked. It was him, all him. Not you" Nick said making me look up at him. I swallowed and looked down wanting to believe him, and a part of me did, but a part of me will always relive those words he said to me tonight.

"I just don't know if it would have hurt less to never had known him. To have him never know me." I sighed and looked up. "But he did know me" I said looking at Nick. He had a sad expression posted on his face. "And he still wanted to leave" I whispered. Still no tears. Still numb.

"Y/n I don't think I could ever live without you" Nick said, I saw tears brimming his eyes. "You mean so fucking much to me" He said letting a tear fall. I smiled sadly. "Your dad is an idiot" He said shaking his head. "Such an idiot" He smiled at me. I smiled and pulled Nick into a hug and he wrapped his arms around me and we sat there for a minute, just holding each other.

"You can stay with me, you know" He said as he laid his head against me. I stayed silent. "My mom would love to have you. We have an extra guest bedroom you can stay in, and if you don't want to be alone you can just sleep in my bed" He said soothingly. I smiled at his offer. As much as I wanted to take it and run, I knew I shouldn't. I didn't want to leave my mom alone, afraid she would hate me even more than she does right now. Plus his mom already had to deal with raising three teenage boys. She doesn't need me and my problems on top of all of that.

"Thank you Nick, but I can't. I can't leave my mom" I whispered as Nick pulled back to look at me. He nodded. "My door is always open. You can change your mind and stay as long as you need" He smiled at me and I nodded.

"Nick" I said grabbing his attention again. He looked at me waiting for me to continue. "Can you do me a favor?" I asked quietly. He nodded not breaking eye contact. "Tomorrow" I started looking at him. "Will you just pretend that none of this happened? I don't want your pity or anyone else's." I sighed looking down. "I don't want you to treat me any differently. I don't want you to feel like you have to walk on eggshells around me" I said making him smile.

"If you think my hair looks ratty, I want you to tell me and make a joke. If I stutter I want you to call me out like you always do" I laughed, making him laugh. "I just don't want this to change our dynamic. I don't want you to look at me like the girl who needs fixing. I've been dealing with this my whole life, nothing changed. He just left that's it" I said shaking my head. Nick placed his hand over mine.

"If that's what you want" He stated. I nodded smiling at him. "You sure you want to go back?" He asked looking at me. I hesitated before nodding slowly. He nodded starting to stand. "I'll buy you ice cream on the way come on" He said helping me up. I smiled and took his hand.

"Thank you, Nick" I smiled and he pulled my hand as we walked to the car.

I stood in front of the door to my house. My hand shaking as it gripped the handle. God y/n stop being a baby, walk in. I swallowed before turning the handle. As I walked in I could almost see the scene that unfolded in front of me just a few hours ago. I let out a shaky breath the memories flooding into my brain creating the imagine. I swallowed, before turning and closing the door. I walked a few steps before seeing my mother sitting at the kitchen table looking down at her hands. She didn't acknowledge my presence.

"Mom?" I asked quietly. She didn't even look up. I bit my lip looking towards the stairs. Just walk up the stairs. No. I at least had to make sure she was okay. I took a deep breath before walking up to her. I swallowed.

"Mom?" I asked again looking down at her. She still didn't look up at me, her eyes glued to the table. I gripped my hands together, looking around. Anxiety spiking through my body. "Mom can you please talk to me?" I asked her. She had a lot to say earlier. I wasn't expecting her to be quiet.

I looked at the empty chair next to her. I sat down slowly. "Mom I know this is hard for you, but maybe this is for the better you know?" I said my hands shaking. "Y-You know dad he was really angry and-" I started to say but was cut off.

"Don't" She spat quickly. I looked up at her. "Your father was a good man. You will not speak down on him" She said glaring at me. I furrowed my eyebrows at her. Surely we couldn't have been speaking about the same man. Not the one from my childhood.

I tapped my fingers on the table in front of me. "Mom I just don't want you to hate me" I mumbled quietly. Silence again. I looked up at her. "I-I did this for you. For us. I wanted better I just wanted to feel-" I attempted to explain but she stood up violently.

"For me? You did this for me?" She said glaring down at me. "You are the most selfish kid i've ever seen in my life! You drove your dad away after 18 years of marriage for me?" She screamed at me. "18 years of hell. Hell for the both of us and you know it!" I stood up screaming back.

"He was a drunk! He hit you! He threw shit at me! I was trying to save us! I was trying to protect myself like you never did for me!" I yelled at her. She pursed her lips as she looked at me.

"Out" She said looking at me. "I want you out of my house" She said looking down. I felt my heart fall. As much as I wanted to accept her request and run to Nick's, she was still my family. The only family I had left. "Mom please-" I breathed. She just glared at me.

"We only have each other. You can't do this" I shook my head. She swallowed and shook her head. "This was your fault y/n. Yours. Not mine. My whole life-" She stopped closing her eyes. "My whole life, it was you" She pointed at me. I backed up, hardening my face towards her.

"Why do you think he started drinking in the first place" She shook her head. I bit my lip and shook my head. "This is not my fault" I said through gritted teeth. She nodded. "You know it is. You can stand there and try to convince who ever you want that this was not your fault, but it is" She shook her head at me.

"And you know it" She said pointing in my face. I licked and lips and looked down. Pain corsating through my entire body. Still, not tears held in my eyes. I took a deep breath. "Please" I whispered. "I want you out of my house goddammit!" She screamed at me. I took a deep breath and stepped back for a second just looking at her. Wishing. Hoping. That just this once she would pick me over him. But she never had and she never would and now I knew that.

I swallowed and nodded. Still no tears. I turned on my feet, walking up the stairs, packed my things, and didn't look back as I left the house.

This was your fault y/n. Yours.

I closed my eyes before I knocked on the door quietly. It was past midnight at this point and Nick wasn't answering his phone, but this was my last hope. I didn't have anywhere else to go. I didn't have a home and it was starting to get really cold outside. The Boston cold. I hugged my arms as the breeze blew by.

I stood there looking at my feet with a duffle bag around my shoulders. Aching from the walk over here. It wasn't a bad walk. I walked it all the time, but with an extra 50 pounds of weight it was hard. My shoulders ached. I looked up at the door again, waiting for any signs of someone answering the door.

"Please" I whispered to myself as I saw my breath come out before me. A few seconds passed and I started to give up hope when I heard the door creek open slightly.

I looked up and saw a pair of familiar blue eyes. Chris Sturniolo stood before me. I blinked at him. He furrowed his eyebrows when he realized it was me. He looked down at my bag, then back up at me. I just looked down at my feet and then back up at him. He was not the one I wanted to answer the door.

"What's with the bag?" He asked opening the door all the way just looking at me, like he alwasy had. Unimpressed. Can I get a break just this once Chris? I wanted to say but instead I held my lips closed. "Can you get Nick?" I asked looking at him, as I shivered. He crossed his arms over his chest as he stood there examining me. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks. I didn't like this.

"Chris please" I said quietly, not looking at him. He looked back up at my eyes before sighing. He looked behind him and then back to me. "He's been asleep for a while, come in" He said moving out of the way so that I could step inside. I left out a breath before walking through the door. I felt Chris grab my bag and I stopped, gripping my bag. He stepped back putting his hands up. Looking at me with a shocked expression.

"I was just getting your bag jeez" He said shaking his head and closing the door. I sighed looking down. "So jumpy" He mumbled walking past me and towards the stairs. I just watched him as he walked. He stopped and looked at me when he got to the staircase. He raised his eyebrows.

"You comin?" He asked looking at me. I blinked before following after him up the stairs. I tried not to stare too much as he walked up the steps. As painful as it was to be around Chris, he was deathly attractive. Which only made me hate him more. Kinda. I blinked and looked down at my feet before reaching the top of the steps.

"Guest bedrooms on the right next to the bathroom. You know where that is" He said sliding his hands into his pockets. I looked to where he was talking about and nodded. "Do you want me to wake Nick?" He asked looking at me. I shook my head. Nick had done enough for me tonight there was nothing ergrent going on. Mom just kicked me out, i'll still be kicked out tomorrow. There's no need to bother him while he was sleeping.

I shook my head. "No it's okay, I'll just talk to him tomorrow." I fake smiled. He just blinked at me. I started to turn to walk away but Chris grabbed my arm. I felt electricity run up to my shoulder. I turned around quickly putting my hand over where he had touched me. He slightly leaned back from my reaction.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly as if anyone heard him ask that the world might explode. I just looked at him for a second. Soaking in the almost concern in his face I'd never seen before. "Yeah." I nodded. Yeah I'm fine Chris" I whispered back. He nodded looking down at his feet.

"Get some sleep" He said before turning and walking back down the steps. I let out a breath before walking into the guest bedroom and setting my bag down. I sighed running my hands through my hair. Long day. Very long day.

I threw my hair up into a pony tail and crawled into the bed. I let out a breath. I heard a small knock at the door before I heard it start to creek open. Matt poked his head through the door and smiled before walking in. I smiled softly at him.

"Hey y/n/n" He said quietly. He looked down at his hands holding waters. "I brought you a water in case you get thirsty." He smiled walking over to the bed and handing me the waters. I took them and placed them on the table beside my bed.

"Thanks Matt" I sighed. He smiled down at me and started to turn before stopping. He looked down at me sadly. I wanted to throw up. "Chris told me you were here. That you were upset. I just- Are you okay?" He asked quietly. I looked up at the ceiling.

"Matt I'm okay I just don't want to be pitied. I'm still me" I said glancing over at him. He nodded and looked down. "There's some clothes in the bottom drawer if you want to change. They are old. They don't fit us anymore, but they will fit you" He smiled slightly. I nodded. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped before turning and exiting, leaving me alone. I stood up off my bed before going towards the drawer and shifting through the clothes.

I smiled at them. I picked up one shirt that was blue and read "Highlanders" which was the mascot of our high school. I brought it up to my nose and old cologne filled my nose. I smiled before ripping off my shirt and pulling it over me. I walked over and pulled myself back into my bed.I sighed and turned over, hugging my pillow.

I tried to close my eyes, but I couldn't. It was like a magnet that kept springing open. I tossed and turned before looking up at the ceiling, sighing letting my thoughts wonder around.

How could Chris even tell I was upset? I didn't even say anything. I shook my head at my thoughts. The last thing I need right now is for my mind to try to figure out the complex man who is Christopher Sturniolo.

I closed my eyes but it was hours before I finally drifted off to sleep.

I walked down the steps, I heard the talking in the kitchen come to a holt. I glanced over the staircase and saw all of the faces looking back at me. Mary Lou smiled at me softly before walking up to me and hugging me.

"You can stay here as long as you need sweetheart. You're a part of the family" She said quietly as she hugged me. Over her shoulder I met the eyes of Nick, Matt, and Chris. I looked away when she pulled back. I smiled at her.

"Thank you" I whispered. She nodded before walking back towards the kitchen. I looked at Nick who gave me a soft smile. I smiled back and sat next to him. I put my hands on my face and rubbed my eyes. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. Nick reached over and rubbed my arm.

"Your hair looks like shit" He smiled over at me. I couldn't help but let out a small laugh, making Nick smile. "Nick" Matt scolded him. I shook Matt off quickly. "No...he's okay" I smiled looking up at Nick. "Thank you" I said quietly. In moments like these I don't know what I would do without him. He smiled and looked down.

"So we all get the pass to insult you right now?" Chris asked from across from me. I glared at him. Always butting heads like I said before. When Chris asked me if I was okay last night, that was the first time he was semi-nice to me. It honestly weirded me out a bit. Chris held eye contact for a second before he broke it and looked down. I smiled down to myself. I won.

"Because you look tired as shit" Chris said shoving his spoon full of cereal into his mouth and chewing obnoxiously. Mary Lou set down a plate of eggs next to him, hitting him on the back of his head. Chris whined and put his hand on the back of his head, looking up at her. I laughed before covering my mouth.

"Language Christopher. That is no way to speak to a guest" She said looking down at him and then making eye contact with me and winking at me. "Nick said it first!" He said motioning to Nick. Nick and I giggled. I smiled at her. Sometimes she felt like a second mom to me. Actually more like my only mom. I admired her more than I admired myself.

Chris looked up glaring at me. I rolled my eyes. "You should try to eat something" Matt said beside Chris looking at me. I looked down at the food on the table. "I'll make you anything you want honey" Mary Lou said from the stove turning around to look at me.

The thought of food entering my body right now made me sick to my stomach. That's all it did recently and it showed. My legs were skinner, my face was too. I swallowed. I should eat. I know I should. It's not like I don't want to, just recently I can't. When I do, I puke it all up and if there is anything I hate more than feeling sick, It's throwing up. I talked to Nick about it and he told me that it might be trauma response. The lack of eating. I blinked down at the table.

"I don't really want to eat right now" I said quietly. Chris glanced up at me for a second before going back to his phone. Nick leaned slightly towards me. "Eat something y/n/n" He said softly. I just looked at him and then Matt, who was looking at me like I was an injured puppy.

Nick placed piece of bacon on the plate in front of me and Matt stood up taking a muffin off the counter and handing it to me. I looked between them both. "Just a little bit. It might make you feel better" Matt suggested across from me. This is exactly what I didn't want. To be babied. I could talk Nick off of it, but Matt was different. He didn't know me as well as Nick did, so he didn't believe me when I said I seriously did not want to be treated differently.

I looked up at Matt. He was staring at me waiting for me to eat the fucking muffin. I sighed before picking up. Maybe If I ate a little bit he would stop staring at me like that. I looked down at it before biting into it and chewing looking at Matt. He smiled and looked down, almost pleased with himself. I leaned back sighing.

After breakfast Nick when into his room to shower and before he told me he had a whole day planned of fun. I rolled my eyes as he smiled and jumped into his room. As I turned I felt it. I paused before walking quickly to my room. I walked in and ran into the bathroom, closing the door and leaning over the toilet, emptying my stomach.

I held my hair back as I puked. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to control my breath. I leaned back and sighed. Then It came again and held the toilet. I groaned and fell back against the fall. I heard a small knock on the door.

"Y/n?"

I looked towards the door and rubbed my eyes. I couldn't really tell the difference between their voices sometimes, but I knew who was on the other side of the door. "Hold on a sec" I said as I stood up, flushing the toilet. I leaned over towards the mirror and filled my mouth with water and spitting it out and then splashing some on my face. He knocked again.

"Matt-" I said as I opened the door but was met with the other brother not Matt. Chris hovered above me, looking down at me. He raised his eyebrows. "Still don't got the voices down yet huh?" He asked smiling. I closed my eyes sighing. "You all sound the exact same" I said shaking my head. He looked behind me and then back at me.

"Are you okay?" He said looking at me like I was crazy. I turned around and then looked back at him. "Yeah, I'm-fine. Please stop asking me that. What do you want?" I said looking at him. He glanced behind me again and then looked at me. "Were you just throwing up?" He asked scrunching his nose. I closed my eyes and hung my head.

"What do you want Chris?" I asked again, not answering his question. He just blinked at me, before sighing and looking down at his hands that were holding three water bottles. "Matt told me to bring these up to you" He said looking from the waters to me. I sighed looking at the waters. "But it looks like you already have enough" He said turning and looking at the four bottles of water already on my nightstand, unopened.

He had handed me two last night and when I woke up there were two more. I looked over to the other bottles. I groaned running my hands through my hair. I looked down at the ones in his hand before taking one out of his hand and walking over to the other ones placing it down.

"Can you please tell Matt to stop babying me? I don't want to be treated like I'm a baby who needs taking care of" I said glaring at Chris. He held his hands up. "Don't shoot the messenger" He smiled. I rolled my eyes. "He's just worried about your hydration" He chucked. I glared at him and looked down at the waters, tracing the top of one with one of my fingers. Chris looked down at me and sighed.

"Matt's just like that, you know that" Chris said defending him. I licked my lips and nodded. "I know, I just wish.....he wasn't. I don't know." I said shaking my head. Chris just stood next to me. "Maybe you should drink one. Maybe you threw up because you're dehydrated" He shrugged. I scoffed and shook my head.

He leaned over placing the other waters next to the others. "He's just trying to be there for you, because you know...your parents weren't" Chris said making me look up at him. "You don't know anything about my home life" I said crossing my arms. He raised his eyebrows and looked down at me.

"I know enough. I know it was bad enough that you showed up at out doorstep at 1am last night with a bag full of your stuff" He said glancing to the bag. I looked to the bag and then to him. I looked down at my feet.

"You're closed off and I get it." He explained. "No you don't" I shook my head. "You don't get it Chris" I said. "You don't get anything" I spat. "You don't get it because you have a mother who cooks you breakfast every morning and brothers you can talk to about anything" I said shaking my head.

"You don't have to worry about food on the table or if your dad is coming home that night" I said looking at him. "You never have to question your parents love or if you need to lock your door at night in case one of them gets angry" I said stepping towards him. "You never have to worry about if there's going to be presents under the tree Christmas morning and your heart doesn't drop when you see an empty bottle of vodka on the counter when you come home from school" I said as he stood over me.

"You hear your mother tell you she loves you every morning before handing you your lunch for that day" I shook my head. "So no Chris, you don't get it" I said narrowing my eyes. "So I appreciate you not treating me any differently, I do. Matt doesn't get that and you do, but don't sit here and try and tell me you understand when you don't." I finished looking up at him. His face didn't change as I yelled at him.

I shook my head and I moved past him but I felt his tug on the bottom of my shirt. "It's kind of funny, you yelling at me while wearing my shirt" He said glancing down at the shirt and then back up to my eyes. My face faded as I looked down at the shirt and then back up at him. "Your shirt?" I asked. He smiled and raised his eyebrows. I just blinked at him.

"You ready ?" Nick yelled as he walked through my door. Chris dropped the grip on the shirt and stepped back from me. I looked from Chris to Nick. Nick furrowed his eyebrows and looked at him. "What are you doing?" Nick asked him. Chris looked at the waters and pointed at them.

"I was bringing waters" He said putting his hands in his pockets. Nick looked at the waters and then into the hallway. "Tell Matt to stop being obsessed with hydration" Nick sighed walking in. Chris shurgged. "He thinks it heals everything thats not my fault" He chucked. Nick shook his head and looked at me.

"I want to go shopping" Nick clapped looking at me. I laughed and looked at him. Nick glanced to Chris who was still standing there. "You can go" He waved at him. Chris rolled his eyes and left the room

It's been two weeks since I moved into the Sturniolo's house. I'm feeling better. Nick's making it better. I sleep in his room ever other night and we laugh, watch movies, sing, dance. We do everything best friends do. It's amazing. I've gotten closer to Matt too. He's back off a bit so that's good. Chris was still harder to break through with. He'll hang out with us, but he mostly ignores me or if he does acknowdge me, he's making fun of me. Which I don't mind. It is what it is, but I still wish he would try like I do.

Now I was standing outside of the bathroom door banging on it. Chris knew I needed to shower and he's been in there for 30 minutes. He was doing it to enrage me. I knew he was. He ran into the bathroom as I walked to it with a towel in my hands. I knocked on the door again.

"Chris come on!" I yelled. I groaned and leaned against the wall as I heard the shower turn off. I sighed of relief. "Thank God" I mumbled to myself. A few seconds later the door was opening. the Lord could have never prepared me for what I saw when the door opened.

"Could you have-" I froze.

Chris stared back at me. His hair still dripping wet against his forehead. His towel hanging low on his waist and the fresh shave cleanly shown on his face. His eyes seem to have gotten bluer in the shower if that was even possible. Steam from the shower poured out into the hallway illuminating him like an angel walking out of heaven.

My voice froze. My body froze. My eyes scanned his body without permission from my brain as I glanced down to his toned stomach and the dangerously low towel that was leaving little to my imagination. Chris smirked up at me like he always did. I swallowed as my eyes met back to his.

"Cat got your tongue?" He asked leaning against the door frame. My cheeks caught on fire as I blinked at him. I cleared my throat. "No I just-" I said stumbling over my words. He laughed and shook his head as he turned and walked down the hall. I swallowed and pressed my hand against my face, I was burning up.

"Fuck" I whispered to myself. I turned and watched him as he walked and he briefly turned and met my eyes with the same smirk before opening his bedroom and walking in. I shook my head and walked into the bathroom and closed the door fast. As If I could erase the embarssment that had just happened outside if I closed the door fast enough. I closed my eyes and shook my head.

Y/n what are you doing? Looking at Chris like that? I opened my eyes and turned towards the sink seeing residue of a razor sitting on the counter along with cologne and necklaces that he had discarded when taking a shower.

"Fuck" I whispered again. It's just physical attraction. It's human nature. It's not that big of a deal. I thought to myself as I stood there pressed against the door. God that was horrifying. I shook my head as I reached in the shower before turning it on. A few minutes later I held my hand under it to feel a stream of cold water. My face hardened. Chris. I hated him again, never mind.

About an hour later I sat in Matt's room along with Nick. Matt was playing his video games while Nick and I sat and watched him, not really understanding what was going on. Matt removed one of muffs over his ear and turned to us.

"Can you go grab Chris? He was suppose to join the game an hour ago. I don't know what's taking him so long" Matt groaned. Nick looked over at me. "Can you? I'm comfy" He said as he wiggled in his blanket. I swallowed. "Uh, can't you?" I asked looking at him. I really didn't want to face him after what happened an hour ago. I just don't want him to tease me about it. After spending an entire cold shower thinking about it. It was just physical attraction. Nothing more. It's human nature. He's attractive under the normal girl-standard. That's it.

"Pleasseee" Nick whined. I looked down at him before groaning and standing up off the bed and walking out of Matt's room. My breath was unsteady as I walked down the hall towards Chris's room. Why was I acting like this? Why was I nervous? This was ridiculouis. I shook my head and my thoughts as I stood in front of his door.

I knocked lightly.

"Come in" I heard from the other side. I grabbed the handle opening the door slowly. Chris was pulling on a T-Shirt with his back towards me. I looked up. You've got to be kidding me. I looked back down at him as he turned around.

"Oh. Hey" He said looking at me. I didn't say anything. "I was wondering why someone was knocking and not just barging in" He smiled pushing his now dry hair back with his hand. I just blinked at him. He moved back over to his bed, picking up a sweatshirt and starting to put in on.

"Did you need something?" He asked smiling due to my silence. I took a breath in. "Yeah-right. Matt said that you were suppose to get on the game or something?" I said looking back and then towards him. He pulled the sweatshirt on and nodded. "Yeah I know, I'm about to get on" He said picking up his phone. I pursed my lips and nodded. Chris looked up at me and then to the side then back to me.

"Did you need anything else?" He asked raising his eyebrows. I blinked. "No! I just-" I looked down then back up at him. He just looked at me. My cheeks flared up again. God, I hate my body. He smiled and started to walk towards me. I stood frozen, like my feet were incapable of moving. I swallowed as he got closer and looked down at me. He stood so close he hovered over me just looking down at me. I just stared back at him. The air was still and it was silent between us. He narrowed his eyes down at me.

"How was your shower?" He whispered. I just blinked up at him. He was too close and too quiet to ask me that. "Cold" I whispered back breathless. He pursed his lips hiding a smile. His eyes glanced over my face.

"I think you've got a staring problem" He said hovering over me. I pursed my lips. "I think you've got an attitude problem" I breathed back. He smiled. "Maybe I do" He whispered back. I just blinked up at him, my heart beating out of my chest. His eyes trailed down my face and to my lips before looking back up in my eyes.

He stepped back before turning and grabbing his phone. I let go of a breath before turning and walking out of his room and closing the door, quickly retreating back to Matt's room. I opened the door and saw Nick scrolling through his phone and Matt studying the game in front of him.

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT!!!

I’ll take the feedback loves❤️

#christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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iamthat-iam · 3 months

Text

"Ego", The Final Boss

Olivia (she prefers to be called Liv) has been on quite the spiritual journey for a couple of years. She was born and raised Catholic, then as a teen she decided to leave the church because it didn't resonate with her. She went through a law of attraction phase, followed by law of assumption, and finally, she found non dualism from a few Twitter and Tumblr accounts.

The message, from what she gathered, was that she needed to fully drop the ego in order to realize her true self/true nature and to experience whatever she wanted. She even read a few books where realized masters have spoken about their own personal journeys of dropping ego and how life is generally more peaceful for them now that they've done so.

Now, Liv is one with a troubled past. She would give anything to become an entirely different person with no childhood trauma, and just a happy life all around. She meditated every single day, practiced "sitting in silence", and tried her hardest to detach from her "ego."

She stopped enjoying her usual hobbies out of fear of identifying too much with the character. She would go out of her way to correct thoughts that she felt were "too related to being the person." Needless to say, her mental health began to go downhill very fast.

One of her best friends, Marcus, decided to check up on her one day through face-time. "Hey sis! How have you been?! Haven't seen you in a while."

"Hey..." Liv answered. "I'm not doing all that great to be honest."

"Yeah I figured that. That's why I reached out to you," Marcus stated. "I'm worried about you. It seems like you barely leave the house. Everytime myself or anyone else tries to make plans with you, you either cancel last minute or come up with some bogus excuse as to why you can't come out."

Liv had to laugh because everything he said was true. "So I'm guessing you didn't believe the story about my pet rabbit dying."

Marcus cackled. "GIRL. I've known you for years and not once have you ever had a pet rabbit. Stop playing."

"Okay let me tell you what's really going on with me," Liv began, "So a few months ago I found this 'spiritual practice' called Non Dualism, and the premise of it is you need to 'let go of ego' in order to realize your true nature as God, or Awareness, whatever you want to call it. Also you get to experience whatever you want."

"So this is the reason why you've stopped enjoying your usual hobbies, and why you've stopped having a social life?" Marcus inquired. "I'm going to be honest here. As your friend, I feel like I owe it to you to tell you the Truth even if it isn't what you want to hear. I don't think that this 'practice' has helped you one bit. Either you have misinterpreted the message, or these people are spreading misinformation. Never at any point should you sacrifice your mental health for the sake of 'becoming enlightened.'"

"I don't know what else to do," Liv started to cry a little. "I just want to become a different person living a life full of happiness, one without trauma and constant reminders of my horrible past. I hate being this broken person!"

"It's okay hun, I totally understand," Marcus consoled her. "I can help you. You remember my family guru right? She hates being called that, but I don't know how else to refer to her. Her name is Sage. My family has gone to her for spiritual advice and healing for years."

"Yes, I remember her! Didn't she help your mom heal her lower back pain?" Liv asked excitedly.

"She sure did. I can give you her number if you want!"

After Liv ended her face-time call with Marcus, he gave her Sage's number. She immediately reached out to her to schedule a day where they can meet up.

- -

One day, Liv arrived at a beautiful park to discover Sage already sitting on one of the benches waiting. "Hi! I don't know if you remember me, I'm Marcus' friend Liv."

"Yes! Hi Liv, it's nice to see you again," Sage reached out and gave Liv a warm hug. "Now what can I help you with?"

Liv sat down next to Sage. "Well, I discovered Non dualism a few months ago, and I'm not sure if I misunderstood the message or not, but I thought you had to let go of ego in order to realize your true nature as awareness. And after you realize this, you can experience whatever you want. So long story short, I stopped enjoying life because I thought I had to do that in order to be enlightened."

Sage hesitated for a moment, and then smiled. "Think about it this way.. if it's true that our true nature is awareness, or God, whatever label you put on it, why would you have to go through these unnecessary steps in order to 'become' it? If that's what you already are in the first place?"

Liv opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. Maybe Sage had a point.

"Here are my thoughts. If anyone is telling you to 'drop the ego', it's bullshit," Sage chuckled. "The point of Non Dualism is realizing that you were always awareness. You were always the awareness behind everything that seems to appear. The ever-stretching, limitless silence that can take on the form of anything. The ego is just a thought. The idea that you are not already fully realized is also just a thought. In reality, there's no ego or person here to let go of. No person here who needs to become 'fully realized.' Just drop the idea that you are a limited human that has to become something, and you'll be golden."

Liv's jaw dropped to the ground. "You're telling me it was THAT SIMPLE THIS ENTIRE TIME?"

Sage laughed heartily. "Yes it is. Why do you think it took masters like Lester or Sri Nisgardatta months or YEARS to 'realize Self?' because they spent so much time trying to get rid of an ego that doesn't exist!"

Liv let out a sigh of relief. "So there really is nothing to do. I can't believe I exerted all that effort for nothing. I do have one more question, how can I experience whatever I want knowing I'm awareness? I want to be a completely different person with a different past."

"The person you think you are now, and the one you want to be are both illusions. You, as awareness, can 'choose' either one like a costume. Everytime you think about this ideal version of you, you've already experienced it," Sage grinned.

Suddenly a wave of emotions flooded through Liv, a mixture of relief and happiness. She felt the urge to give Sage a tight hug. "Thank you so much for helping me today."

"You're so welcome, sweetie."

Good for Liv, she has finally accepted her omnipotence and freedom to experience anything!

#non dualism #nondualism #consciousness #awareness #self #self realization #another long story but i hope the message was clear

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faeryarchives · 4 months

Text

savanaclaw with a furina - like female reader!

the "regina of all waters, kindreds, peoples and laws" is deeply loved by all. under her flamboyant and imprudent facade, lies a girl holding an unbearable weight and guilt on her shoulders to save her people. note: as requested and i love furina sm hihi i will also write for other dorms warning: major spoilers for genshin archon quest other fics: heartslabyul with a furina-like reader & i'm not jealous !! & to my beloved & more than words

-‘๑’- leona kingscholar

"huh? what is the esteemed dorm leader of savanaclaw doing in front of my house?" "... why do you look like you didn't sleep for days? nevermind, take back your pets - they've been following me the whole day and poking me with water." "oh my archons, they like you!"

leona knew different kinds of people, faes and beastmen but never a god! not that you broadcasted it to the world - of course he heard it while grim was chatting away from the garden

so this lion observed your moves and to be honest, you were just like an ordinary person

"what are you doing hiding behind me?" "ahem! you know, i don't really know the forest that much so i would appreciate if i would put myself behind yo- ahhh! what is that?!" "it's just a branch, herbivore. i never knew you are scared of branches."

he actually gained another chess player buddy - he discovered it at the cost of being drenched in water from your water familiars

never he would imagine how on earth did you not go crazy standing in for your archon and acting for so so long? and despite belittling you and your friend group, he couldn't believe his ears when you stood up for him against the other dorms

"what leona did was wrong but how would you feel if all the trainings and efforts were all in naught and overlooked by the people you considered as family? imagine if your fate has already been sealed before you were even born?"

oh, he didn't expect you of all people to do that honestly + not so bad at all so expect a lot of sweets everyday curtesy of this lion

don't tell anyone but with you acting just as yourself and discovering your passions with him as a witness - leona feels proud like a lion watching his cub succeed

extra: you and cheka really go along well to the point that leona thinks cheka might replace him with you someday

-‘๑’- ruggie bucchi

ruggie trusts his skills in sneaking around and swiping things if needed and he will bet that no one could ever discover him immediately

"after pulling a prank on grim and my salon members, you must think that i am much of a gullible fool?"

now you both did really met at a rough start - the hyena thought you would be more snobbish and not to mingle with people below his level especially after hearing you being a god

but seeing you shielding him during leona's overblot and regularly visiting him during his recovery at the clinic made him questioned his thoughts about you

"why are you always visiting me? i thought you hated me?" "...? where did you get that nonsense? if i do hate you, i would go out of my way to buy these doughnuts for you."

well look at you two now! close like two peas in a pod - you really enjoyed spending time with ruggie because you were seeing the world in a different perspective

having hard time picking your new macaroni menu for the day? no worries, ruggie will make sure you will be able to cook other meals than this. not good with bargaining with sam? hold his groceries, he have this in the bag.

"more interesting trinkets for me~!" "oh you collect trinkets? why didn't you say so?"

omg new trinket collector buddy 🥺 whenever you give him something such as a bracelet or even a hairclip he will wear it like a badge of honor

it's alright to help other students but he is worried that being to kind in nrc might backfire on you

"you shouldn't be too trusting here. i know you just want to help but like your friends said - you should also help yourself at times."

while he might not look like it but ruggie can sense your mood change accurately especially when it involves the topic of your past

this one whole year on nrc might not be comparable to your 500 years of living but ruggie will make sure that it will be the best one

-‘๑’- jack howl

other than the adeuce and grim team - jack is the person you actually vibe with!

maybe its because his sense of justice and responsibility reminds you of a dear friend back home and it actually comforts you to see it + makes you feel less homesick

this man is very used to his little siblings so expect him to come off as a brotherly vibes + probably makes you an exemption to touching his ears and letting your salon members put some design in his hair

"... do you think these three would be great teammates during magift competitions?"

"hmmm, i must say they do make a great team. what if we bring it up to leona, i think these three will enjoy it very much."

well the dorm leader liked the idea but seeing how they acted during the practice - it's safe to say it is very risky because they only listen to you, jack and leona

ANYWAYS jack sometimes come to the ramshackle dorm just to wake you up knowing you probably stayed up late reading your novels

he tried inviting you to his morning run only to see you the next day already tired and carrying you on his back after one run

"you can't blame me okay! i was born to drama and directing not in running!"

speaking of carrying you on his back he sometimes do it just because he wants to especially when jack knows too well how much you overwork yourself

while he can read you very well, you can also read this guy by the book through his ears and tail movement

"... jack what are you doing here so late?" "…what? it’s not like i was waiting for you or anything." "i never said that though?" "hmp." while he look away, his tail would impatiently wag and hit the wall behind him making you laugh "uhuh, whatever you say. let's go back to our dorms now big guy."

it turns out that while spending the whole afternoon up to evening, jack wanted to accompany you back to the dorm safely - worried that someone is bullying you because you were down for days.

he is not that expressive with words - but just know that jack will always be your friend despite your upbringings or not being open to tell your past, he understands it pretty well

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland hcs #twst fluff #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twst x reader #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #jack howl x reader #a.savanaclaw #faeryarchives

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alorhna · 5 months

Text

I’m sorry too ivory. You’re a weird ghostie. Who steals PCs pills.

That’s it guys. I must admit. I like the weird ghost. I’m weak I know-

DOL RAMBLES OF THE DAY

Man it’s been a while since I’ve done one of these lol-

Originally this guy was extremely creepy, like who randomly kidnaps a random person out the room.. RANDOMLY. Like unless you join the church and go through ivorys memories, you will most likely never know the full story of this ghost. So when my first Pc was really just one day abducted like that I was like”- aight- guess this is my life now-🫥”

But then after learning his lore, I must say as a writer myself I’m enthralled, I’m attached. OBESSED even.

Especially after the latest temple update. Ivory has so much potential not just as a possible future LI, but as a solitary character. They have presumably reasons to hate the PC so much that they’re willing to drag both of you down to the pits of despair.

But even if PC isn’t the one who screws them over ivory still becomes obsessed, because their obession with PC didn’t begin out of hatred, it was from love. From knowing PC in a past life, of loosing them to their enemies of the opposite faith. And finally FINALLY when they see their past lover again…

They’ve been born anew. But why? Ivory is a ghost damned to the lake, why does pc get to run around and fall in love all over again. and not with ivory?, no, no. PC has the freedom to love whomever they wish.

Because they’re Alive.

But that’s not fair, ivory and pc were bound “forever as one” they should have never been born anew!

And just for PC to even have the possibility of forming another “bond” with a member of their same faith? To have the nerve leave ivory and bind themselves to someone else!

Such a dirty, lying, retched,....lover.

I don’t believe ivory could ever truly hate the PC, because they never did. From the beginning ivory was always going to see the PC and become obsessed. Because originally PC was theirs. Solely theirs to love and defile. Their obession to the PC is only shadowed by their obession to their necklace.

Whether or not PC does anything. Ivory was always going to do something. That’s all there is to it.

((Which is a mentality a lot of the LIs internally have towards the PC. Some more obessively than others.))

All the PC can do is avoid them but that doesn’t last for long. Eventually they’ll be caught.

Because they are loved, deeply. And love is obsessive, chasing you beyond your grave, possessing each waking thought. And leaving nothing expect carnage in its wake.

#dol #alorhna the songbird #oc #sydney the faithful #sydney the fallen #dol pc #ivory wraith #kylar the loner #dol kylar #ivory wraith the forlorn #robin the orphan #Avery the businessperson #alex the farmhand #degree of lewdity #black wolf the alpha #dol great hawk

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lianaisabsent · 1 year

Text

BSD men if you died

synopsis: you died the day he was planning to propose to you, and God has he never hated any day like that day.

CHARACTERS: Dazai, Ranpo, chuuya

DAZAI OSAMU

He's already lost his dear friend and now the one person he allowed himself to be vulnerable to, someone he allowed himself to get attached to was gone as well.

Fate was playing a joke at this point. Did the world hate seeing him alive and well so much?

He got even more shut in after this, refused to talk to any agency member and pretended like everything was fine.

It was the day he decided “maybe I can allow myself to love someone truly.. Maybe this time it won't be taken away maybe this time I can truly allow myself to be happy" he decided he'd propose, propose after you come back from the mission.

That maybe however was a mistake on his part, There was no maybe in his life. He was born to loose everything.

he chuckled dryly staring at your grave, he couldn't cry he had no tears left now he had truly become a man who lost it all.

He couldn't live anymore, if life wasn't a chore already it certainly was now. He promised to his dear friend he'd live but when he did find a reason to live, to feel he lost it yet again.. It's like fate itself hates him

The day he found your body, he was shocked he was too shocked to even see anything he held your body he screamed and screamed he felt so so vulnerable. How could you leave him? Why would you leave him? You promised you'd stay with him.

After your funeral he spent a whole week at your grave and hoped maybe you light revive and come back and maybe you'll kiss him like you used to, maybe you might bring back life to his cold lips that have been cold ever since your body left all its color.

He did not know anymore he did not care anymore, he felt like living for anyone wasn't worth at this point. Lovers till death they said? What a load of crap.

RANPO EDOGAWA

He knew it. He knew it. He knew it

He couldn't stop it. He knew it. He couldn't stop it.

He cried, he never cried like that he knew it he knew something would happen if you went there on that mission

He didn't eat nor sleep

Cried by your grave and fukuzawa had to take him back to his place to comfort him.

Yosano tried to comfort him as well

Didn't bother poe for a whole two weeks

As soon as you left for that mission even though he told you not to, even though he said he had a surprise you still went. He received the news, he knew something bad would happen but he really didn't expect news of your funeral.

He cried and cried he wasn't ready to let your body go, he didn't want to let it go, he wished he stopped you somehow, any way he could he should have tried.

He stayed by your grave telling you about everything that went on in the armed detective agency even though he knew you weren't there to listen to his ramblings anymore. It only made him sob more

He didn't have it in him anymore, he felt like what was the hardest of being a great detective if he couldn't even save his one and only love.

Seriously everyone was concerned for him, ranpo was never the same after your death.

CHUUYA NAKAHARA

He was angry, he was confused, he was sad.

He felt an anger he never knew he had.

His powers even got the best at one point.

He didn't listen to anyone, he was so angry at your death because you promised just yesterday you wouldn't leave him. How could you

In the port mafia a death isn't really much of a big deal, it happens every now and then but that one death, your death. It wasn't normal at the least, not for chuuya it wasn't.

God knows how much anger he felt that he couldn't help, that he couldn't use his power to save you, that he couldn't hold you in his arms anymore or listen to your voice or feel your touch.

He absolutely hated it. He drowned himself in alcohol, he rummaged through every one of your belongings and kept them close to him. He was so angry, annoyed and frustrated.

How could you just leave him? He planned to propose today, to get down on one knee and give him whole life to you! Yet you just go ahead and die?

He knew it wasn't your fault. He knew you weren't to blame for your death but he had no one else. No one else to blame the death on because the boss closed the case saying it wasn't important. God, has he not hated any other day like the day of your death.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd season 4 #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #ranpo x reader #dazai angst #nakahara chuuya #chuuya angst #bsd

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talaok · 1 year

Note

Good afternoon honey, I was wondering if you could write dark! Joel x plus size reader where the reader is suffering with body image and that night you go out to a club and meet Joel but smut? love the blog🥰

Pairing:Joel Miller x plus size!reader

Warnings: body image problems, negative talk of reader's body and self, smut| dub-con, unprotected p in v sex, a bit of degrading, and dark! Joel

A/n: ok ok ok I've never written a plus-size reader so if this is bad just tell me, honestly, I'll delete it, it's fine (yes I'm really nervous about this, I'm scared it's disrespectful) thank you so much for the ask tho babe💗

The dress looked absolutely horrendous on you. It was too tight and too loose in all the wrong places.

Your curves looked like they were stretching the fabric so much it was gonna tear the moment you took a step, and the makeup on your face now just looked like a pathetic attempt at driving people's attention away from it.

This was a mistake, you sighed, looking at the loser staring back at you from the other side of the mirror.

I should have never agreed to this, It's so fucking stupid.

You mumbled to yourself as you unsuccessfully tried fixing the dress in any way that wouldn't make it look so incredibly ridiculous.

Maybe I can pretend I'm sick or something,

Maybe I got a really bad headache all the sudden,

Maybe I got fucking infected, I don't know, that would be believable. I can just start making some weird ass noises and I doubt she'd still want to go out with me.

"Hey, you ready?" Kora opened the door, causing all your plans to fall apart with one single action.

"yep" you forced a smile "all ready"

"Great, let's go!"

fuck my life man.

__ __ __

"Are you serious?" you asked, actually kind of mad

"I know, I know, I'm sorry"

"you've just met him" you pointed out, frustration and annoyance lacing your tone.

"I know" she repeated "but-" she sighed, glancing back at the man "he's so hot y/n, I mean-"

you rolled your eyes "Whatever, go have fun, I'm just gonna go home"

"no don't go home, you can have fun without me," she said "Maybe with someone else..." she raised her brows suggestively and you felt one breath away from punching her.

You shot her a look.

Yeah, like anyone would want to "have fun" with me

"what?" she asked, clueless

you stared at her, the same expression in your eyes.

"you know what"

"oh my god," she moaned "again with this thing? Y/n you're hot as fuck, anyone with half a brain cell can see that"

You remained silent.

You hated the pity party of having everyone constantly lie to you about how you looked.

Just tell me the truth. I look like shit.

It's fine, I know it, you know it, the whole world fucking knows it so stop talking to me like I'm a fucking baby and tell me the truth.

I can take it. Trust me, I've been telling it to myself since I was born.

"in fact..." A small smirk tugged at her lips as her eyes focused somewhere behind you " I think somebody definitely noticed" she grinned like an idiot as she stared at someone behind you.

"shut up" you stopped her "You know he's not," you said "He's probably looking at you"

"Oh no" she shook her head, that stupid smile still tugging at her lips "No he's definitely looking at you" She waved at him and you immediately grabbed her hand, forcing it down

"stop! what are you doing!?"

"I'm helping you out" she smirked "You'll thank me later," she said with a wink, turning to walk away but not before chuckling a taunting"Have fun"

Goddamnit

You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks as you sneakily tried to catch a glimpse of whatever Kora was talking about.

She was probably bluffing, you thought as you slowly turned, but just then, you had to think again.

A man was looking at you, no, not looking, staring.

His eyes were pointed at you like a viewfinder in a gun.

He was sat at a table alone, an empty beer bottle clutched in one hand, and the other one relaxed on his leg.

He looked focused, like a tiger watching a gazelle.

His salt and pepper beard suggested he was older, and so did the lines across his forehead.

But most of all... his eyes were the tell.

His deep brown eyes staring back at yo-

shit

You turned away.

Fuck

I was staring at him,

You clutched your purse to leave, but a voice stopped you in your tracks.

"hi sweetheart"

He sounded exactly how you'd imagined.

You turned to him, your eyes glimmering with shame

"hi" you breathed "Sorry if I bothered you"

He chuckled "A pretty thing like you could never bother me"

he sat down "Besides," he said "I was staring at you first"

You forced a chuckle as an awkward silence fell between you.

"I saw your friend left," he said, sitting down on the stool next to you,

"yeah" You nodded "She does that a lot"

"that's too bad" he cooed "well maybe not entirely" he considered, something switching in his tone.

"What's your name sweetheart?"

"I-I'm y/n"

"y/n" he let your name roll out his mouth with ease "pretty name for a pretty lady" he commented, "I'm Joel"

"nice to meet you" you mumbled, stumbling over your own words.

Was he coming onto you?

"the pleasure's all mine darling"

He definitely was

But, like... why?

"I'm sorry-do you- do you know my friend?"

He grinned, his white teeth showing "no,"

"she didn't like, tell you to come here or anything?"

A small laugh fled his throat "no sweetheart"

"oh" you breathed "so you came here 'cause..." you trailed off,

" 'cause you caught my eye from the moment you entered, and when I saw your friend leave you here all alone, I couldn't not offer a bit of company"

You felt a shy smile spill from your lips

" 'got a pretty smile angel" he smirked

"t-thank you"

He chuckled again "Why are you so nervous sweetheart?" he asked, his hand traveling to your thigh and stopping all oxygen from getting to your lungs "Is it me? Am I so scary?" his voice got lower as he inched closer "I don't bite y'know?" he joked "not unless you want me to"

A small gasp fled your throat, making him chuckle.

"what is it, angel?"

"I-I'm sorry I'm just not- used to this"

"Now I don't believe that" he murmured "A sweet thing like you?"

"I just-"

"What?"

"nevermind"

"If you want we could go back to my place, and you can tell me all about it with a little more privacy" he suggested, "what do you say?"

Your cheeks were as red as the fire burning in his eyes.

"I-" you stuttered

"I can show you a good time angel"

"I'm sorry" you breathed, leaning away "I'm-I'm sorry I have to go to the bathroom" You stumbled over your own words, clutching your purse and rushing off the stool and through the groups of people in the club.

You didn't even realize you were bumping and hitting every person in your trajectory as all you were focused on was that damn door right in the corner.

Oh my god, what felt like the first actual breath you'd taken in ten full minutes, finally left your mouth as you entered the bathroom.

"oh my god," you mumbled to yourself, walking to the sink to look at your reflection in the mirror.

"what the fuck was that?" you sighed

Am I dreaming? Is that it?

If that's it this is not funny brain.

I'm so confused,

This is... I mean this is just-

What the fuck is this?

He's hot. Like hot hot and I'm... You looked at yourself, and I'm me.

You took a deep breath, looking around you.

The green stalls were empty, and the music was still blaring from the other side of the door.

You could still picture him, feel him. He was so close to you, and you could feel every molecule of your being dancing as his hand remained on your leg.

God, what the fuck

I don't even know how old he is.

And just then, the door opened.

You turned the faucet on to pretend to be washing your hands, but a voice startled you.

"there you are"

Your eyes snapped open

"T-This is the women's bathroom"

Joel smirked, "you thought you could get away from me that easily?" he asked, taking a step towards you.

"I-" you took a step back, but he followed.

"I was being nice there," he said "complimented you and shit"

Your back was to a stall and he was right before you.

"and what did you do?" he asked "you ran"

"I didn't mean to, I was j-"

"what, angel?" he mocked "You got shy?"

"well don't you worry" His hand went to your chin, tilting it up "I'll fix that right up" He took another step, imprisoning you "I'll help you out sweetheart, mh?"

Your mouth gaped open to say something, but before you could, his lips were on yours, and his hands on your back were forcing you flush against him.

His tongue moved into your mouth as he quite literally shoved you into the stall behind you, pressing you against the closed door.

"thought you could get away from me?" he growled, kissing your neck as his hands roamed on your body, one of them roughly grabbing your ass "Thought I was just gonna let you go?" he asked, now looking at you.

"oh no angel" he kissed your mouth "I have to have you" he murmured "And I will" He kissed you again, and this time, you found yourself reciprocating.

This was wrong and scary and weird, and still... countless butterflies filled your belly.

"there you go" he praised you "That's a good girl" He moved some hair out of your face " 'knew you wanted this too," he said "knew you'd be good, angel" He smirked before you felt his hands go to your waist.

"turn around for me"

With a little push from him, you did, finding your cheek flush against the door.

"god baby" his hands took in every inch of you, adoration clear in his tone "Wanted to fuck this body of yours since I first saw you" he explained, as he slowly rolled your dress up to your waist until only your panties were left to cover you.

"it's what you wanted too, isn't it," he asked, suddenly grabbing your arms to force them together behind your back "You wanted to be fucked like a little slut didn't you?" he continued as his hand pulled your panties down, the cold hitting your core "didn't you angel?" he urged, his grip tightening as he kissed your neck again.

"I-" You didn't know what to say. you were feeling too many things at once.

"Tell me you want this" he breathed, and you heard his zipper being undone.

"tell me you want this angel," he asked again, his hot breath on the skin of your neck "C'mon, I know you do"

" I do" you admitted, and you felt him smirk.

"that's right" He nodded, positioning himself at your entrance "and you're gonna get it" he promised, pushing himself into you hard.

"fuck" Your moan resembled more of a scream as you tightened your fists on your back

"What angel, can't take it?" he taunted, speeding up " 's too big for you little slut?"

"y-yes" you begged, making him chuckle "I can't take it"

"yes you can" he groaned "You're gonna take it all in this little tight pussy and you're not gonna complain about it, understand?"

"understand?" he asked again, his threatening voice spilling in your ear.

"y-yes I'm sorry"

"good girl" he praised, resuming his violent pace, as a cry fled your mouth and tears filled your eyes.

He smacked your ass and you gasped, but before you could let out a moan, his hand covered your mouth.

The door had opened, and two women had walked in.

"we gotta be quiet, angel" he whispered to your ear

"can you be quiet for me?"

"can you be a good little girl and keep that pretty mouth shut for me?

"mh-mh" you nodded, your breathing made difficult by his hand on your mouth

"atta girl," he said, still fucking you, but much slower, and to your dismay, much deeper.

He was hitting undiscovered spots inside of you, and the mix of the pain from his cock stretching you with the pleasure of each thrust was making it really hard not to moan.

"fuck" he groaned softly in your ear "You've got the tightest little pussy angel," he said "Squeezing me so good" he breathed " like it's made for me"

You whined

"Like you were made to be my little slut" he whispered "and have this little cunt abused by my cock"

Your eyes were wide shut, your orgasm approaching as he kept hitting you so fucking well.

"you coming angel?" he asked and you nodded "We're gonna come together" he purred "I'm gonna fill you up real good" his breathing was ragged "and then you're gonna get out there and dance with my come leaking down your thighs"

"you understand?"

You nodded

"no cleaning up," he said "I want everyone to know how much of a slut you are"

The women's voices resumed. Or maybe they never stopped. You had no idea of what was happening beside your impending orgasm.

"fuck" he groaned "Such a good fucking slut" he whispered, his head falling in the crook of your neck, as the door opened again and the women finally got out.

His hand left your mouth

"you coming angel?"

"y-yes"

"then let it all out baby"

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