#that you know all of his tricks and tells just as well as he knows yours | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

suugarbabe · 2 days ago

Text

Origin Stories

(part 3)

summary: baby first year matty arrives at hogwarts and the first person he interacts with seems to not know him at all. matty is unsure how to feel when someone treats him like just another person instead of the dark lords son

warnings: fluff, angst, hurt but comfort after, slight magical child abuse, sad baby matty ; ; ; she's a long one folks

an: forever thankful for @musingsofahufflepuff and all the wondrous thoughts he puts into this, the editing he helps with, just everything <3; you're all welcome, yes there is another part, there will always be more

Magical wounds don’t always heal quickly. They also don’t always heal without scars. Mattheo learned that if a diffindo charm is cast with enough hatred and precision a simple episkey charm won’t do the trick.

That or his first year wand work just isn’t as practiced. His mother forbade his elf, Feindre, from healing it for him, and Salazar knows she wasn’t going to do it.

Which left little newly twelve year old Mattheo standing in his bathroom staring in the mirror. It wasn’t even bleeding; the dark magic that his mother emits singed the edges of the cut as she made it.

He really did try to heal it the best he could, but it seemed like he was going to always have a prominent scar running through his right eyebrow.

His first thought after it all happened was how disappointed you’d be. That was his internal rationale as to why he was going to avoid you when he finally made it back to the castle.

He couldn’t fathom his nightmares coming true. For you to tell him that you hated him. That he was a monster for what he did. That he deserved what his mother had done.

He didn’t tell anyone where he was going, intending on just wallowing in self-pity. So when you found him hidden behind the wicker baskets near your common room entrance he was surprised.

The sniffling alerted you. You were able to hear it as you neared the bottom of the spiral staircase. At first you thought maybe a fellow first year had forgotten the password, looking ahead of you to try and find someone from your dorm.

But two steps past the stone tree base of the stairs and you heard sniffling again, this time from the nook that held the baskets.

If he hadn’t made any noise, no one would be any the wiser that there was a Slytherin first year crouched behind the tall baskets in the stair nook. A crying one at that.

“Matty?” Your voice startled him, quick hands swiping away his tears and fluffing his hair. “Matty, is that you back here?” Your head poked around the basket just in time to see him straightening out his robes.

He turned his back to you. Part of him was hoping you’d just leave him there to rot in his miserable pit of shame and sadness. Part of him was glad you were there.

“I know you can hear me, Mattheo.” The use of his full name made him flinch and he turned around to face you. While his back was turned you had joined him on the floor, legs criss-crossed and hands resting in-between.

He kept his head down, curls covering his forehead, “Are you here to yell at me?”

“Why would I-” your sentence was interrupted as he raised his head, fresh scar on full display.

“I’m assuming Theo or Enzo told you, so you found me to tell me off and tell me what a shit friend I am. But don’t worry…I’ve been telling myself all of it already.” His voice wobbled at the end of his sentence, tears welling in his eyes.

You didn’t understand what was happening, “Matty, talk to me, what- why would I be mad at you?”

He sniffled again as he wiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand, “I b-broke your promise.”

You inched closer to him, just slightly. You didn’t want him to run off; he was apparently good at finding places to hide. “Matty, what promise are you talking about?”

He couldn’t look you in the eyes as he said it, “I couldn’t let it go, I…he just..Draco is a fucking prat and he deserves what I did.” You nodded, face unchanging, “What did you do, Matty.”

He took a shuddered breath, willing himself not to cry while he explained himself, “He just looked so smug at the party - his family’s christmas party they throw every year - and I just couldn’t stand it

“Not with me knowing what he said to you, how he made you feel. It wasn’t right that he was laughing with his brainless friends that follow him around. I just kept seeing you crying in the back of my mind.”

There was a rush of heat to your cheeks, something about knowing Matty was still dwelling on how awful you felt was stirring something inside you but you couldn’t tell exactly what.

“I guess he must’ve told a joke or something,” Mattheo continued, staring at a point on the ground like it was replaying live in his brain as he told you, “Crabbe was cracking up and Draco just had that smirk on his face and I knew it was likely the same when he was being awful to you.

“So I had to do something, I couldn’t stop myself. I pushed through the crowd and I went right up to him and I just…lost it. I punched him in the gut first. Then he tried to take out his wand from his pocket and I just grabbed it from him and threw it into the crowd of adults around us.

“I just kept hitting him, and hitting him and I couldn’t stop. When he started crying I just thought good, he deserves this. I wanted him to physically feel the pain he had emotionally caused you.”

He felt the tears start to fall, but he couldn’t find it in him to care anymore. If you were going to stop being friends with him, he wanted you to know everything, to know he got rightfully punished already so that hopefully when you told him off you weren’t as harsh.

“My mother stopped me. Well she…hit me with a stupify jinx and I guess she apparrated us back to our manor because she hit me with something else to wake me up so she could berate me.”

He spared you to the details of his mother’s words. ‘You horrifically idiot child, do you know how embarrassing that was for me? For your father? Over a Mudblood, Mattheo. Mudblood we aim to rid our world of, we do not defend them.

“Is your mother the one who…” you trailed off, but he knew you were staring at it. “She was teaching me a lesson,” was all he could respond with.

He saw you shake your head in his peripheral, “No. Absolutely not, no Matty that is not a lesson that’s abuse. C’mon. C’mon let’s go right now, we’re going to Madam Pomfry, I’m taking you to the infirmary so she can fully heal it.”

You stood up then. He didn’t move, “No, I can’t do that.” You held your hand out for him, “Just, let’s go Matty she can heal it up really well I’ve seen her do it on one of my dorm mates before.”

Mattheo just shook his head, “You don’t understand…she’ll just do it again. She wanted it like this, made me heal it myself and everything it’s…it’s a reminder.” He heard you scoff from above him.

“What could that possibly be a reminder of? That she hates you?” Your mind was filled with so much purity, Mattheo almost didn’t want to tell you. He didn’t want to ruin how you saw the wizarding world, the excitement and joy you had on the train.

But he also couldn’t lie to you, so he did his best to say the tamest version of what it really was, “It’s her reminder that she could if she wanted to.” Your sweet soul just couldn’t comprehend, “That she could what?”

“Anything.”

You stood in a silence for a moment. To Mattheo it felt like forever. Like you were deciding all of it was too much. That he was too much. When you started speaking he couldn’t help his reflexive tensing, waiting for the rejection he figured was coming.

“Will you let me give you your Christmas present then? It might cheer you up?”

Between the crying and standing up quickly Mattheo went slightly light headed for a moment, “Y-you got me a gift?” You gnawed on your lip slightly, “Well, erm, I didn’t actually buy you something but I…made you something.”

You were staring at your hands, fingers fiddling with one another. Mattheo grabbed your hand suddenly, ignoring the rapid rhythm of his heart getting stronger and louder at the contact as he started dragging you down the hall.

You glanced quickly at the pile of barrels that was your house entrance as Mattheo stopped in front of a portrait on the wall about ten feet down. “Erm, Matty. Why are we standing here,” you mock whispered, mirroring his position and looking at the portrait.

“I’m waiting for you to say your password,” he turned to look at you, face scrunched in slight confusion. A grin broke on your face, “This is not my house entrance, goofy.”

You begin to walk away from him, Matty following closely like a new puppy as you stop in front of the pile of barrels. You take a step closer to the barrel two from the bottom, knocking in time with the name ‘Helga Hufflepuff’.

The front of the barrel begins to roll upwards into itself and you start to walk forward, Mattheo immediately behind you. “Your password is just knocking?” You nod, “Mhm! And it’s never changed and we were told it never will change. So you can’t tell anyone.”

Mattheo nodded, “I won’t.” You turned to him then, “Do you pinky?” Mattheo couldn’t stop the instinctual tilt in his head, “Do I what?” You held a fist out towards him, your small pinky finger the only thing outstretched, “Do you pinky swear?”

His quickly mimics your hand position, confusion further settling in his brain as you hook your pinky finger on to his. You jut out your thumb, bringing it to your lips and kissing it quickly.

Again, Mattheo does the same, not understanding what’s going on. “Okay, now seal it,” you lean your fist against his, your thumb reaching over. He touches his thumb to yours and his face and neck begin to feel hot.

His heart is beating quickly and he sort of feels light headed again, but you’re smiling, so he’s smiling and then you’re opening the door to your room.

Enzo was the first to notice it, pointing it out loudly from across the dorm. “Whatcha carryin’, Matt?” Mattheo set the gift bag, your gift bag, down on his bed before shrugging off his robes.

He was digging in his trunk, top half nearly fully inside while looking for lounge clothes when he heard the crinkle of tissue paper. By time he was able to get back to his bed Theo had revealed one of your gifts.

“S’that a little dragon?” Enzo walked over enthusiastically to the opposite side of the bed Mattheo was on. Theo was currently holding the crocheted Antipodean Opaleye high in the air.

Theo’s slightly longer limbs gave him the advantage he was hoping for as Mattheo reached for it, “Give it back, it’s not yours. It was made for me, not you!”

Enzo climbed up on the bed next to Mattheo’s, giving himself a few good jumps before launching himself over and on top of Theo. “Oof– Enzo what the fuck,” Berkshire had snagged the handmade stuffie and was now settled against Mattheo’s pillows inspecting it.

He turned it this way and that, looking from its long neck to its wings and down to the tail before Matty grabbed it back from him. “Cut it out you gits, you’re gonna break him.”

“What’s that string on your wrist?” Theo reaches to grab Mattheo’s forearm but he pulls it quickly into his chest. He grabs hold of his wrist, shielding it from view.

The incessant whine of Draco’s voice wafts from his curtains, “Two handmade gifts? Your little badger friend poor or something? No surprise for a mud-”

The rage in Mattheo grew nearly as high as the night he tried to beat Draco with his bare hands. Thankfully you had done more than just crochet and stuff the dragon; Mattheo held the Opaleye towards Draco’s bed, pulling strongly on its tail.

A stream of flames emitted from the stuffed dragon’s mouth, immediately igniting the middle of the drapes on Draco’s four poster.

“Wicked…clever little badger charmed it?!” Theo sounded highly impressed and Mattheo gleamed with pride. With Draco now distracted with his flaming curtains, Mattheo turned to his friends.

Enzo couldn’t contain his laughter at the sight, hands clutching his belly as he rolled to his side. Theo had his palm outstretched, giving Matty a ‘give it here’ motion with his fingers while holding a finger to his lips.

Mattheo passed the dragon over just as Draco managed to put the first fire out. Theo then gave the Opaleye’s tail another tug, another stream of fire reaching Draco’s bed. The blonde boy let out a high pitched squeal of terror, attempting to throw a stinging jinx towards the other boys.

An impressive protego charm was thrown up by Matty as they all ran out of the room and towards the common room in a fit of giggles. As they all settled near a fireplace in separate chairs, catching their breath, Theo was the first to break the silence, “Where’d you learn that protection charm, amico? Isn’t that a sixth year charm?”

“You know who his parents are-ow!” Theo wacked Enzo in the back of the head, “Futtuto idiota!” He turned back to Mattheo, “Sorry ‘bout him.”

Mattheo just shook his head, gnawing lightly on his bottom lip, “S’okay, he’s right. Feindre-erm, my house elf taught it to me.” His face warmed slightly at the admittance.

Enzo, trying to gracefully recover from his earlier statement, smiled far too widely, “Well that was - erm, nice of him?” Theo groaned, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose before changing the subject, “You gonna show us what’s on your wrist now?”

Mattheo shyly held his hand out in front of him. Both Theo and Enzo leaned forward, trying to get a closer look at the twisted and knotted pattern of greens, black and white on his wrist. Matty’s heart beat a little faster, something akin to protectiveness over your handiwork coming over him.

“Badger made that by hand you said? No magic at all?” Enzo was now sitting on his knees in front of Mattheo, peering closer at the bracelet on his wrist. “Merlin, Enzo, back up. Where’s your boundaries, mate,” Theo pulled Enzo back by his collar causing the boy to fall backwards.

“They said it was a friendship bracelet,” Mattheo said the phrase with some pride in his tone. Theo huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “Where’s our friendship bracelets?” Mattheo shrugged, “Dunno, maybe you guys aren’t really friends.”

“Oi! We’re friends!” Enzo defended, “We stand next to each other in Herbology, we were partners just last week!” Mattheo laid across the sofa, putting his hands behind his head, “Partners do not equate friends, Enzo.”

Matty smirked to himself when he heard Enzo begin to grumble. “Well we’ll just find out at breakfast tomorrow won’t we.”

You didn’t show up for breakfast. Mattheo’s mind went in a bit of a spiral because of it. He ran through everything that happened the previous evening, all of your interactions together.

Was he not enthusiastic enough about his gifts? It wasn’t that he was not excited, he just never received such a thoughtful gift before.

He never received any gifts before.

He didn’t eat at all. The thought of you being upset with him made him feel physically ill and the idea of eating sausage and eggs made him want to vomit.

He had been pulling at his curls during his walk to charms, gnawing on his bottom lip harshly. He was just about ready to explode from the weird rush of heat that seemed to be encompassing him the more he thought about you when he finally heard your voice.

“Matty!” You were waving your hand high as you walked through the doorway. Without giving it thought Mattheo did the same, raising his arm high as he waved, his new friendship bracelet now on full display.

Your grin was so large Mattheo was sure your face was about to split right in half, “You wore it! I’m so glad, I was afraid you’d find it a little bit cheesy.”

Mattheo followed your gaze to his arms now crossed on the table, bracelet still peaking from his robes. The bridge of his nose and tips of his ears suddenly became very warm as he pulled his sleeve to cover it fully.

“Erm, yeah. I’ve never gotten a present-Ehm, a present like that before. How did you make it without any magic?”

You turned in your seat to face him, hands animated as you spoke, “Last summer I visited my cousin in America and we went to this thing called a summer camp and we learned how to do all sorts of cool stuff, bracelets were one of them.”

Mattheo had a bad habit of staring and not responding. He supposed it was likely something he developed to cause less negative reactions from his mother.

However you were now running your hand through your hair, cheeks seemingly warming and waiting for a response. “What’s, erm, what’s a summer camp?” Mattheo finally found his voice but he wanted to smack himself.

You sound so stupid, everyone probably knows what those are. He clenched his fist tightly, then relaxed them; a skill Feindre taught him a few years ago.

Your eyes seem to brighten once more, launching into a long explanation about the experience and all the activities you got to do and what they meant.

It all sounded like Gobbledegook to him, but seeing how happy it made you to get the opportunity to explain something that excited you was satisfying enough for him.

Charms was the only class he had with you Monday mornings. Thus, once Fitwick dismissed everyone he was stuck to survive without you until lunch. Mattheo, therefore, felt numb for the next two classes.

Theo was about to ask Mattheo if he needed to go to the infirmary on their way to lunch as it looked like he’d been walking around brain dead for the last two lessons. That is until he noticed you at the lunch table, next to Enzo. Sitting right next to Enzo.

Theo also noticed this, grabbing Mattheo by the elbow and dragging him to the other side for the both of them to sit across from you. Mattheo contemplated if it would be too dramatic of him to climb over the table and sit on your free side.

“So what’d we miss?” Theo started piling food on his plate, a passing glance at you and Enzo the only indication of where he was directing the question.

You rolled your eyes as Enzo responded, “I was just asking our little badger here why Matt got a friendship bracelet but we didn’t.”

They’re my badger not our badger you twit, Mattheo squeezed his eyes shut trying to shake the negative thought from his brain.

Theo hummed, biting into one of the several pasties he now had on his plate, “Hey, that’s right! Why didn’t we get one?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Matty was my first friend.” Mattheo’s chest swelled, the smallest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. Enzo scoffed, “We were your second and third friends! We deserve bracelets too! What, do you hate us all of a sudde-ow, ow, oi what the?!”

Enzo’s hand covered his forehead where you had just landed a particularly hard flick with your finger, “Lorenzo don’t be selfish.” The boy next to you slumped his shoulders slightly, a soft and grumbled ‘sorry’ leaving his lips.

Theo took another bite of pasty, “M’kay so when we’re all as close as you and Matty do we get two gifts, too?”

“Well one was for Christmas and one was for his birthday.” You said it so casually, like it made perfect sense. Mattheo, however, was looking at you with wide awestruck eyes before quickly looking down at his plate.

The other two boys looked slightly guilty. ”Mate,” Enzo looked toward the older boy, “your birthday was over holiday? We missed it?”

Mattheo just shrugged, “You both were around. It was the same day as Malfoy’s little soirée.” Theo and Enzo looked at each other before Theo turned to Mattheo, “You mean the same day your mum-”

“Yeah, the same,” Mattheo pulled on the curls by his forehead trying to hide the still healing scar by his eyebrow. Noticing his uncomfortableness, you tried to change the subject.

“Did he show you guys his dragon’s special skill?”

Mattheo was thankful for the distraction. The other boys taking pride in the slight torture they all instilled on Draco. You tried to reprimand them slightly but Mattheo saw the edges of your lips curling upwards.

Enzo, as always, was being enthusiastic in his storytelling. Hands flailing and body moving to illustrate what his words were describing. As he described getting the little dragon from Theo, he mimed launching himself off the bed and then wrapped his arms around you to simulate what he did to Theo and Mattheo suddenly felt horrible.

A weird twisting started appearing slowly in his stomach and spreading throughout his body. It only became more intense as you laughed, pushing Enzo off you. A low heat began emanating off Matty as Enzo continued to bump or nudge you throughout his storytelling.

Mattheo gripped his fork harshly, the prongs scraping against the table as a means of distraction (and not hex Berkshire at the lunch table). Someone must have asked him a question because Theo nudged him with his elbow, nodding his head towards you.

“Are you okay, Matty?” Your eyebrows were knit slightly together, eyes darting from his to his fork making four deep marks in the wood of the table. Mattheo dropped his fork to the table, “Oh, yeah, I’m sorry. Did you ask me something?”

A small smile appeared on your features, “I just asked what you were thinking about.” Mattheo wracked his brain for a viable excuse. He wasn’t sure how you would feel about him plotting Enzo’s demise due to his proximity to you.

“Ehm, I was, erm, just thinking about what to get you for, erm your birthday? W-when is it again?”

Through a mouthful of sausage Enzo answers for you, “ ‘ts in March.” That twisting feeling started brewing again, thankfully Theo asked what Mattheo was wondering. “How do you know when their birthday is?”

Enzo sat a little straighter, “Because we’re friends.” Then very unceremoniously, he stuck his tongue out at Matty.

“I’ll cut that tongue out, Enzo,” Matty threatened and the boy immediately sucked his tongue back into his mouth. You playfully scolded the curly haired boy, “Oh hush, Matty you will not. And yes, Enzo we’re friends, Theo you are also my friend but Mattheo is my best friend.”

Mattheo felt like his heart was swelling, the smile exploding on his face was out of his control and his legs started bouncing slightly. Then he turned back to Enzo, sticking his tongue out at him.

“I’ll cut that tongue out, Matty,” Enzo mocked his friend's earlier words. You rolled your eyes, Theo apparently doing the same. “Are they always like this?”

Theo leaned his head on his fist, elbow supported on the table as his eyes darted back and forth at the two other boys flinging insults at each other, “Honestly this is new, but I don’t think it’s going away anytime soon.”

Now that he had learned when your birthday was, Mattheo was determined to get you a gift. He had two months to plan, and he was really wracking his brain about what would be good enough after all you’ve done for him.

He did his best to listen intently (as if he listened any other way around you) for any idea of what to get you. Mattheo knew he was rich, all of his friends were. He could buy you anything you wanted. He wanted to buy you anything you wanted.

But everything you talked about loving or wanting wasn’t material whatsoever.

A month and a half later Matty was slumped in a lounge chair in his common room. He was looking especially moody, which made Theo a little hesitant to even ask, but he considered Mattheo a good friend now.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong, Matt?” Theo lounged sideways over the chair next to Mattheo’s, his continuously growing limbs hanging over each side. Mattheo stayed brooding, “Why do you care.”

Theo shrugged, “We’re mates, I care about you. I don’t wanna see you all sad and mopey all the time.” Mattheo felt a slight pang in his chest, looking over at Theo and his shy grin.

Mattheo sat up straighter, “I don’t know what to get y/n for their birthday and it’s only like two weeks away now.” Theo nodded, “Have they mentioned anything they want?”

A scowl crossed over Matty’s face, “Don’t you think I’ve been listening for that all this time?” Theo threw his hands up in defense, Mattheo sighed, “Sorry, I’m sorry Theo it’s just. Ugh, they’re so great, you know? They made me gifts. How can anything I buy top a handmade gift?”

Mattheo sunk into the chair again with a groan. Theo pulled at his bottom lip as he thought to himself, then shaking his head as if to disregard whatever he was thinking. “You know they still haven’t made us bracelets? Enzo was complaining earlier saying he was just going to make them himself but he can’t figure out how they did it.”

Mattheo’s eyes widened, and then a wonderful idea occurred to him, “I don’t say this often, Nott…but you’re a bloody genius. I gotta go.” And with that he sprinted from the common room.

Mattheo slowed as he reached the library. He really hoped she was in there. He didn’t particularly have a problem with her, per say. But he knew she had a problem with him and all of his friends. Maybe his cousin in particular.

As typical, he spotted Hermione Granger alone at one of the library tables, parchment and textbooks spread all about, quill moving vigorously.

He stood in front of her table for a moment before he realized he’d have to actually say something for her to get out of whatever study trance she was in. Matty cleared his throat, “Em, hello.”

Her quill stopped abruptly, eyes slowly lifting until she realized who was in front of her. Mattheo took her silence as a guide to keep talking, “You’re, erm, muggle born right?” The shift in her eyebrows told Mattheo he started off with the wrong thing, quickly trying to back track and start over.

“No, not like that! I just mean…you know what this is right?” He pulled his robes up, showing off the intricate pattern of string in his house colors. Hermione set down her quill, “You’re asking me if I know what a friendship bracelet is? What are you up to Riddle, some sort of prank?”

He quickly calmed the bit of anger that arose inside his chest, “It’s Mattheo…and no, it’s not a prank. Do you know how to make these? Where I could get the stuff for it?” She set down her quill, clasping her hands in front of her.

“Why should I help one of Malfoy’s little friends?” Mattheo scowled for a brief moment, then cooled his face back down, “First of all, we’re not friends. Our proximity is by force not by choice, Granger. Second of all, I’m the one who gave him the black eye after Christmas.”

They stared at each other in silence, Hermione very clearly trying to analyze if he’s being truthful. Mattheo did his best to keep his stoic, however he couldn’t hold her stare, eyes darting around at everything but her.

“Fine…I’ll tell you, but just the basics.”

Mattheo had never sat down so quickly at a library table all year. Hermione pulled out a piece of fresh parchment from her bag, ripping off about six inches. “There’s that much instruction?!” Mattheo was beginning to feel defeated, but Hermione just held up her hand to silence him.

“I’m just writing basic instructions and a very rough illustration,” she turned the parchment to face him. Mattheo’s eyes danced over the words, desperately trying to make them all make sense. Hermione then tapped the tip of her wand to the parchment, the illustration now repetitively demonstrating how to start the knots.

Mattheo had to stop his jaw from dropping, “Woah.” Hermione shrugged, “That’s the best you’re getting, don’t expect a real life example from me. It’s not going to be easy if this is the first time you’ve ever attempted it, I hope you know that.”

His mouth flattened into a thin line, “I’m well aware…but erm, thanks for this.” He stuffed the parchment in the pocket of his robes and stood up.

“Thanks for punching your cousin,” Hermione wore a small smile as she began focusing back on her work. He began to walk away before turning round to face her once more, “Where would I find the right-”

“Any common string will work, Ri- Mattheo.”

He nodded, thanking her once more before leaving the library. He started down a random corridor, trying to wrack his brain on where in this ginormous castle he would find what he was looking for.

The bracelet you made him was his house colors, would you like it if the one he made was yours? Fuck what was their favorite color again? Did they tell me? I’m such a shitty listener, Mattheo felt like he was going insane. This had to be perfect.

His mind was going a mile a minute, round and round of what he might need, where he was supposed to get it. Then a door appeared next to him on the corridor wall. It looked like an entrance to a broom closet. He looked both ways down the corridor before shrugging his shoulders and turning the doorknob to walk inside.

“Bloody hell…” the room did turn out to be about the size of a broom closet. But it also held about every color of string Mattheo could think of. There were also small bins of tiny beads, all different colors, some white and round with black little letters.

As he searched for materials he noticed all of the house colors seemed to be sectioned off together. He walked over to the black and yellow of Hufflepuff before noticing another few sets of bins with different beads in them. Black beads, boring. Yellow beads, boring-er.

Then he saw the perfect touch he wanted to add. A little gold bead with a tiny little black badger. Perfect, he thought, a badger for my badger.

When your mother is Bellatrix Lestrange and your father is Voldemort, a lot of things will come easy to you. Magic, for instance, was something that Mattheo started to show signs of at around one year old.

It was almost unheard of, but no one was really surprised. From what he’s told he was able to levitate his bottle to him whenever he wanted it. Since then most things would just come to him if he tried it or willed it.

So why he was struggling so badly with making a simple bracelet out of string and beads he could not figure out.

“Oh fucking hell,” he cursed out loud before trying to undo the last three knots that he had just realized were the wrong pattern for that line of color.

Enzo tsked from across the room, “You still tryna work on that, Matt? You know their birthday is tomorrow.” Mattheo grumbled to himself getting up from his desk to go and punch his pillow a few times.

“I’d say he knows, Berk,” Theo was laying out his uniform on his desk chair. “You do have a back up plan though right, Matty? I mean this as a friend who cares…you’re not finishing that tonight.”

Mattheo flopped down into his bed face first and screamed for five seconds straight. He then turned his head towards his friends, “I can buy them a hippogriff…they always talk about how that’s their favorite magical creature.”

Enzo couldn’t control the bubble of laughter that left his throat as Theo quirked an eyebrow, “Mattheo…what would they even do with that? Where would they keep it? Just a hippogriff hanging in the Hufflepuff common room?”

“They are the more nature loving house, Theo,” Enzo was biting his lip to stifle his giggles. Theo threw him a glare, turning back to Matty, “Where would they keep it over summers? Christmas holidays? Are they going to bring a hippogriff to their home in muggle London?!”

Enzo held out both of his hands in front of him, “Let’s not be too hasty, I definitely think Matt should get ‘em one. It’s a great idea.”

Theo hopped of his bed, walking over to Enzo’s before giving the back of his head a good thwack! “Idiota de merda!”

Enzo rubbed the back of his head with a grimace, “I’m getting tired of you sods bloody hitting me all the time.” Theo jumped back onto his own bed, “Then stop deserving it.” They started to lightly bicker back and forth, Mattheo just ignored them for the moment.

Mattheo then glared at both of them, each boy turning away and mumbling something about it getting late and needing to go to bed. Mattheo followed suit, climbing completely under his covers and drawing his drapes.

He felt like a great weight was on top of him. Pressing him further and further into his bed. Squishing him down further into a pit reserved for the worst friends known to man and wizard kind. Maybe if he just succumbs to the darkness then he won’t have to wake up and disappoint you.

He grabbed hold of the dragon you made him, holding it close to his chest and tucking it under his chin. He knew getting an actual hippogriff was a little crazy. But he could afford it, it wasn’t like it was out of his means.

He tucked his face into his stuffed dragon, thinking again about how thoughtful and talented it was of you to make him the little stuffed animal. Then, right before sleep took over, a fantastic idea began consuming his thoughts.

Mattheo slept through breakfast. He woke up with a start, covered in a sheen of sweat. He likely had a nightmare, of what he wasn’t sure. There were about three in rotation right now.

In a rush he got ready and nearly sprinted to charms, getting to his seat beside you slightly out of breath. On the desk in front of him was a biscuit with jam. Gooseberry, his favorite.

“Boys said you were sleeping when they left. Figured you might be late…and hungry,” you were smiling at him in that kind way that you do. He was thankful he ran that last bit to class as now you wouldn’t notice how intensely he was blushing.

“T-thanks, but shouldn’t everyone be getting things for you today?” Mattheo had a shy smile on his face. You tilted your head slightly, he continued, “Because it’s your birthday. Erm. Happy Birthday, Y/n.”

Your smile was unimaginably wide, “Thank you, Matty.” Flitwick entered the room from his office at the front, effectively silencing any conversation being had.

The lesson went on in a fog, you studiously taking notes and Mattheo trying to figure out if he had enough time after potions and before lunch to grab your gifts from his room.

Once Flitwick dismissed everyone, Mattheo walked you to your next class. “You didn’t have to do this, aren’t you going to be late to potions?” Your chest felt warm and you couldn’t stop smiling.

Mattheo shrugged, “It’s your birthday, you deserve all the attention today.” You thanked him again before waving goodbye and entering your next classroom.

As soon as your back was turned Mattheo started sprinting towards the dungeons. The only time he was thankful for his father being the Dark Lord was when it came to Professor Snape.

Mattheo had been late to potions the most out of all of his courses this year. Each time Snape had given him a look, asked him to find his seat, but not taken any house points. Today had been the same. He did as asked, sitting next to Theo.

“You figure out what to get your little badger?” Theo flicked his wand and ignited the flames beneath his and Mattheo’s cauldron. Mattheo nodded, “Yeah, gonna give it to them during lunch.”

Theo continued to bug Mattheo throughout potions and the next lesson about what he ended up getting you. But Mattheo didn’t budge. He didn’t want anyone else to know your gift before you. He wanted it to be special, just like yours were to him.

Mattheo told Theo he would meet him in the Great Hall, rushing back down to his dorm to grab your gift bags. When he finally made his way back up all the stairs, he found you sitting across from Theo and Enzo near the end of the Slytherin table. His rightful spot beside you free just for him.

As he walked over he noticed two more gifts sitting in front of you. His face must have displayed his confusion as you happily clarified as he sat down, “Theo and Enzo got me gifts, isn’t that nice of them?” Mattheo turned to the other two boys. Theo wore a tight lipped smile, while Enzo showed all his teeth.

Mattheo sat both of his bags next to the others as you took the first small bag and began to open it. Theo sat up straighter, grin growing as you pulled out his gift. “Ice cream?” you asked, causing Theo’s face to turn up slightly in disgust.

“Ice cream?? No, no, compagno, it is gelato! I don’t know if you know this, but I’m Italian, we do not eat ice cream. Would never let that monstrosity touch my tongue,” Theo fake gagged, sticking his tongue out.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, “Thank Merlin you told me. I couldn’t quite tell by your thick accent, so I’m glad you clarified.” A smirk adorned your face as Theo stuck his tongue out.

“I owled mia mamma and she sent some over for me. There’s a chilling charm on it so it will always be cold, you don’t even have to put it in, erm,” Theo had his hand in front of him moving it in a circular motion, “como si dice…your cold box?”

Enzo rolled his eyes, “The freezer.” You nodded in understanding, “Thank you, Theo. That’s so cool! Tell your mum thanks from me too.” Theo gave you a small nod as you grabbed the next bag.

It was a little smaller than the first. You pulled off the top tissue paper to see what looked like a piece of ripped parchment. You held it up in front of you, staring at the blank piece of parchment. “Erm…thank you, Enzo.”

Enzo displayed a toothy grin, shaking his head, “Turn it over.” You did as told, reading in small, sloppy scrawl, Coupon: good for two free flicks. You burst into a fit of laughter, holding your stomach. Mattheo had to shoot his arm out to catch you from falling backwards.

“Care to share with the class?” Mattheo took the piece of parchment from you as you handed it over. “Good for two free flicks? Really Enzo?” Theo reached over the table, pulling a quill out of his back, “Let me notarize the back of this so he can’t go back on his word.”

Enzo took the quill from Theo, signing below him, “I’m serious. You can use them whenever you think is necessary.” Mattheo and Theo rolled their eyes in sync. “Don’t use them all at once, I’d save them up if I were you.”

Mattheo nodded, “Keep that parchment in a good place, I say make him wait a year or two and then go for the attack.” You took the ‘coupon’ back from Theo and folded it neatly, putting it in a safe pocket inside your bag.

You went to grab the next gift, “These last two both from you, Matty?” He nodded shyly, “Em, yeah…Christmas and your birthday.” You beamed, beginning to take the tissue paper out of the bag before reaching inside. The first thing you pull is a pack of cauldron cakes.

“Oh yum, my favorite, thank you Matty- Holy Helga is this…is this a little niffler?” You hold up the small stuffie of a baby niffler, turning it and showing it to the other two boys. Mattheo nods with a grin, “It has a little pocket in it’s belly like a real one. I figured you could keep your wizard money in there when you're on breaks or something.” He scratched at the back of his neck nervously.

“That’s brilliant, thank you!” You grabbed for the second gift and Mattheo started unconsciously picking at his thumbs. You pulled out another stuffed animal, this one being, “A hippogriff? Mattheo…you didn’t!”

Theo huffed, “Be happy he did this, he almost bought you a real one.” Mattheo’s cheeks were instantly aflame. Enzo continued on, shrugging his shoulders, “I still think it would’ve been a good idea.”

Mattheo cleared his throat, trying to distract from his friends, clearly trying to embarrass him, “Touch, erm, touch your wand to it’s tail.” You pulled your wand from your robe pocket, doing exactly as Mattheo told.

No sooner did your wand meet the back of the hippogriff did its little stuffed wings begin to move, flapping up and down as the animal started lifting from the table, its head moving this way and that before touching back down to the table and becoming imobile once again.

Mattheo always had a way to make you smile until your cheeks hurt. Today he had made your birthday one of the best you had ever had. “I-I don’t know if I can say thank you enough times for this, Matty.”

The curly haired boy just shook his head, “It’s not as good as what you got me. I mean, Salazar's sake you made my gifts. I just bought these and put a simple flying charm on one. I tried to make you something but it, erm, I haven’t-”

“This is perfect, thank you,” you turned to Theo and Enzo, “all of you. Best birthday ever.” Enzo made the four of you cheers with your pumpkin juice, vowing that in a few years it’d be something stronger. You threatened to use one of your flicks almost immediately.

Mattheo continued to try to work on his own friendship bracelet for you, any of the boys walking in on him at random times bent over his desk fiddling with colored string and randomly cursing.

He became so determined that he frequently ignored Enzo’s requests to play exploding snap or Theo’s requests to play wizards chess. Mattheo just kept saying he was ‘busy’ or he ‘needed to just finish this one part’, frequently working until he couldn’t tell the strings apart and just decided to go to bed for the night.

“Fucking finally! Ha!” Mattheo stood abruptly from his desk shouting in victory and causing Enzo to nearly shut his trunk on his fingers with a yelp. “Fucking hell, Matt, what is it?”

Theo folded one of his sweaters and placed it in his trunk neatly before turning around, “Finally manage to make a bracelet, eh, Matty?” Mattheo walked over, proudly holding his creation for them to see.

Enzo peered at it closely, “It looks…” Theo interrupted, “Perfect. It looks great, amico.” Mattheo nodded after getting his friend's approval, setting the bracelet on his night stand before going over to his closet, grabbing all of his things in a large pile and tossing them messily into his trunk. “There, all done,” he pretended to dust his hands off before going over to his bed and climbing in.

He held his dragon close to his chest, whispering quietly to himself, “M’gonna have to hide you in my trunk over summer. Have to soak up the cuddles now little buddy.”

The next morning was nothing short of chaos. Dozens of students in the slytherin common room shouting what they were still missing. Things like ‘accio scarf!’ Or ‘Has anyone seen a bag of marbles?’ could be heard across the expansive space.

Mattheo ignored all of it as he, Theo and Enzo made their way from the common room to the main halls. Just as they left the common room entrance, Enzo stated that he forgot something in his trunk that he wanted for the train.

Theo graciously, but not without eye roll, agreed to go back with him. Mattheo trucked on ahead, stating he was going to meet you by the great hall before heading to the boat docks.

As expected, you beat him there, waiting by the large hall entrance for him. You were wearing muggle clothes, jeans and a relaxed t-shirt. Mattheo was dressed in very neat and very expensive wizard robes. “Don’t you look dashing,” your tone was teasing but you wore a smile as you said it.

Mattheo’s face heated all the same, “And you look…comfortable.” You laughed, “More comfortable than you I assume. You going to a ball right as you arrive home?” The two of you began the walk and subsequent descent down the many many stairs to where the first year boats were docked.

“Erm, no ball but this is what my mother believes proper pureblood wizards should wear all the time..” he trailed off a little shyly, pretending to be hyper focused on not falling down the last few stairs.

Hagrid greeted you both kindly, sitting you in a boat with two ravenclaws before pushing it off the dock and towards Hogsmeade Station. “Welp, hope Theo and Enzo don’t kill us for leaving without them.”

Mattheo shrugged his shoulders, “I’m sure they’ll find us eventually. Might as well enjoy the calm while we can.” You turned and looked behind you, taking a last glance at the castle for the year.

“I’m gonna miss Hogwarts this summer. Do you think you will?” Mattheo watched you as you watched the castle, “Yeah, I’m gonna miss it a lot.”

Once the boat docked Mattheo followed behind you on the platform and onto the Hogwarts Express. He didn’t understand why you were passing so many empty cars until you finally stopped and opened one. The same one you both rode to school in last September.

“S’gotta be tradition now, doesn’t it? Riding in the same car each year. Do you think we can manage it?” you sat on one of the car benches and kicked your feet up, stretching out. Mattheo thought about how early Feindre had gotten him to the train for his first year. It was likely always going to be that way.

“I don’t think it’ll be a problem.” He sat down across from you, stuffing his hands in his pockets and pulling out a small envelope. “Hey, erm, I-I wanted to give you this before the others showed up. A going away present I s’pose.”

You took the envelope from him, noticing your name printed across it in pointed and scratchy writing. “What is it? Oh, poo, I didn’t get you a going away gift,” you flipped the envelope over, pausing before opening it to pout slightly.

Mattheo shook his head, “S’alright, not needed. Just..open this one and tell me if you like it.”

You broke the seal, lifting the edge and peaking inside, “Is this what I think it is?” Your eyes suddenly grew wide as Mattheo gnawed on his bottom lip and shrugged. You opened your palm out flat, turning over the envelope. Out of it fell a black and yellow handmade bracelet with a single gold bead.

“You made me a friendship bracelet?” Your voice was almost a whisper and you rubbed your fingers over the detail, holding it close to your face to inspect it. “Well…I made you a best friend bracelet. Now we match,” Mattheo’s voice sounded a bit small, but it was all the confidence he could muster.

You shook your head with a smile, quickly turning over your wrist and attempting to tie it on with one hand. Mattheo picked at his thumbs for a moment before standing up and bridging the small space that was between the two of you, “Here lemme help.”

His fingers fumbled slightly but he eventually was able to tie a knot correctly. You looked up from your wrist, meeting his eyes, “Thank you.” Mattheo held eye contact, “You’re welcome.”

The train car opened with a slam, causing Mattheo to jump slightly before immediately sitting down on the bench beside you. You could feel the heat of his thigh on yours, but you didn’t say anything, Enzo’s mouth going a mile a minute with complaints.

“I forget one bloody thing and you two go off and run to the train without us? You know Theo and I waited for like..five whole minutes at the Great Hall doors before saying screw it and just heading toward the docks. Only to see yet again that you two have left us.”

Mattheo slumped back into the seat, “You’ve got to be kidding me, has he been like this the whole way?” Theo nodded, looking slightly exhausted, “You haven’t been listening to it for the last twenty minutes. Made us look in every train car window until we found you.”

You looked around the car, laughing at your friend’s going back and forth at each other. Theo and Enzo started in at each other once again, causing you and Mattheo to make eye contact before bursting out in laughter.

Mattheo smiled to himself. For the first time in probably his whole life, he would be confident in saying that at this moment, he was truly happy. For the next ten hours, he was determined to soak in as much of this happiness as he could, hoping it would last for the two months he would have to spend away from you.

#year one is officially overrrrr #he did it #little babe #this one is long but its so gooood #and sadddd #thank you micah babes <3 #my best editor boy #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle #baby matty #enzo berkshire #baby enzo #theo nott #baby theo #mattheo riddle x reader #origin stories series

96 notes · View notes

mud-castle · 1 day ago

Note

Was thinking about Maine Coon Firestar last night and just had the image of him playing with the kits when a queen, just trying to be friendly, asks how old he is. It was meant to be a joke, like "you're a little small for an apprentice, how old actually are you?" in a teasing way, but then he - not knowing the rules yet - very honestly and proudly says he's three and a half moons old. There's some confusion before the queen realises he's completely serious and this suddenly explains everything.

He gets asked by another queen and the elders. All of them come to the same horrifying conclusion that this apprentice is a baby oh fuck

So after some discussion, Bluestar suddenly has every queen, some former queens and every elder in front of her, complaining and trying to get her to realise she's training a toddler to kill. The most confusing day of her life honestly how did all these cats fit in her den

Bluestar, talking to Firepaw, realises he's absolutely lying through his panicked teeth when he says he's six and a half moons and definitely not three and a half. Well shit. What is she even supposed to do here? Un-apprentice him? Promote him to the name -kit? Just let him keep training but don't send him to battle?

I thought it would be kind of funny if they had to invent a whole ass new type of apprenticeship specifically for this situation. He's still an apprentice, but he will be 'mentored' by the queens in the nursery (cared for properly) and by the elders. It's his duty to help out around camp and learn what he can from the elders and queens, with Bluestar still being a involved, but less so. The elders give him tips and tricks for hunting and tell him every story they know, the queens mostly take care of him and he might get to go on herb gathering trips if he's lucky.

They just invent an early apprenticeship role for kits that mature a bit quickly or need something to keep themselves occupied specifically for him. I don't know if they'd ever use it again, maybe for four and a half moon old kits, but it's just funny to me they had to scramble to find a way to be reasonable adults in the situation whilst also not breaking his heart about not being old enough for an apprenticeship yet

Kid's gonna be so good at making comfy beds and knowing every piece of clan history possible by the time he's six moons mark his words. Boy got adopted by everyone and they had no say in the matter lmao

That would be really cute. A sort of pre-apprenticeship to keep older kits busy when they're old enough to be feeling agitated by being in the nursery all the time, but too young to be apprenticed.

Lol, the image of Firepaw smiling with a missing tooth and proudly saying that he's three and a half moons old. Same vibe as a little kid going "I'm this many years!" And holding up three fingers.

It would also be really funny if after all this Firepaw still managed to get in the exact same amount of trouble he would've as a normal apprentice. The whole clan is in a panic when he's missing from camp one day and he comes back with a banished medicine cat he found and fed (who taught him how to catch rabbits???)

The other clans probably think Thunderclan is irresponsible but no it's just this one child who has more trouble making ability than all the other apprentices combined.

#warrior cats au #I should probably comes up for an actual name for this #maine coon firestar au #warrior cats #ask

42 notes · View notes

blueishspace · 1 day ago

Text

Hero, Villain God 20

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Grian's pov*

You are waiting for Hotguy to finally come to see you, drinking very sweetened tea in a room so bland it might as well make a world record, when the door busts open and-

"Coffee guy??!"

Is... Is that what he's called you??? You literally told him you go by Grian... He's the one that dropped the coffee on you in the first place...

"... It's Grian"

"Oh, right, yes! What...uh...what are you doing here"

"I'm waiting for Hotguy"

You take a sip of tea between words...really, what else would you be here for? Entertainment?

"Have you seen him? He's quite late now"

You know full well that he is HotGuy but it's not like 'Grian' has any reason to know that... And It's funnier like this.

"I'm... I'm HotGuy''

"... Nah"

"U-uh??? What do you mean nah!??"

"I don't believe it"

"But I am!"

"Sure you are."

"I am! Look!"

He shows you a badge like thing, you don't really know what It's supposed to be but you play along... You can guess by his expression that he thinks that should be enough to convince you.

"Ohhh, you're really HotGuy?"

"You bet I am!"

Time for phase two of messing with Hotguy: messing with him a little more but in a different way.

"Ohhh! I see, when you trew coffe on me was that like a trick? A distraction? Was thereba villain nearby you needed to confuse? Smart."

He visibly cringes, not really good at having a poker face.

"Not..really"

"Oh, was I a suspect for some crime and our chat was secretly an interrogation?"

"No...that was an accident"

You stare at him fir a few seconds before laughing.

"... Yeah, I could tell"

You can see his expression going from sheepish to confused to betrayed.

"You!"

"Me."

"You tricked me!"

"I did not. Me? Never."

"But you did!"

"Hmm, yeah I did."

"You embarassed me!"

"You were the one to pour coffee on me"

"You bamboozled me! Played me like a fiddle!"

"Nooo no no, a fiddle is an hard instrument to play"

"...?"

"I played you like the cheap plastic kazoo you are"

... His expression is hilarious, he's just open mouthed.

"I can't believe you would say that to the Hot Guy"

"I can't believe you would pour coffee on your only and first sidekick."

"You weren't my sidekick back then!"

"I'm only hearing excuses. Very bad."

"Geez, you're worse then Poultryman!"

You don't know how to take that considering ...well, considering you ARE secretly Poultryman... You decide to take it as a compliment. After all what is better then being yourself?

*Scar's pov*

What comes next is silence... There isn't anything to say so It's slightly... akward now.... Really akward.

Well, there is... One thing.

"I had some questions added to the last part of the interview"

"I know"

Huh? How? You have to know how he figured it out... and why he got them wrong.

"How?"

"The last bunch were really really different from the other ones and if someone else made them then obviously that must have been Hotguy"

That.. makes sense...you think.

"You uh, failed all of those questions"

"Yep"

Ok, what is going on? Why is he smirking like that??? Wait...

"You did it on... purpose? ...why???"

"A good conversation starter for when I met Hotguy"

"That's...no! That's an horrible conversation starter! You could have failed the interview!"

"Well, I didn't fail...and we are conversing now aren't we?"

That...You...He got you there, you'll have to admit defeat this once.

#trafficblr #traffic smp #hermitblr #hermitcraft #grian #goodtimeswithscar #cuteguy #hotguy #hero villain god au

31 notes · View notes

starmieknight · 21 hours ago

Text

Stars Align

Headhunters Pt. 2

17 Again AU: After a disastrous first day with the twins, Stan swears to do better as an uncle. But fate loves playing tricks on him and the magic 8-ball in the attic is more than it seems.

Now on top of having a pair of twelve year olds around the house while he tries to finish the portal and bring his brother home, Stan has to deal with being back in his seventeen year old body! Summer has never been weirder in Gravity Falls.

AO3 link

Concept Art

Legend of the Gobblewonker (Art)

Prologue, The Legend of the Gobblewonker, Headhunters Pt. 1 (previous)

They threw together the attraction in record time, flyers up and about the town to draw suckers in.

And, boy, did they come out. There was a nice little crowd waiting outside the shack by the time Stan stepped on stage. A few people, mostly the people Stan had gotten to know well over the years, looked at his new face with confusion. Old Man McGucket looked even more confused than usual.

Stan ignored it and pushed on.

"You all know me, folks!" he grinned charmingly. "Town darlin' ― Mr. Mystery! Please, ladies, control yourselves!"

He winked and the crowd and ― to his surprise ― a few of the younger women actually giggled. Maybe there was something to this baby-face after all.

The response to the wax statue of himself was received with less enthusiasm, but Mabel seemed unaffected. And by then, Stan was too enamoured with himself to care. At the end of the day, he placed Wax-Stan tenderly in his armchair before sending the kids to bed.

Some Gravity Falls public show was playing on the TV and Stan tuned it out as he looked himself over.

It was like looking in the mirror and seeing himself properly for the first time in days. Only shinier.

"Just you and me now, pal." he murmured, brow furrowing. Not for the first time, he wondered just how much Ford had changed over the years. They'd always been identical, only small differences there for someone to tell them apart. Their mother claimed she’d never mixed them up, but it wasn't that difficult of a feat ― just look at their hands. The last time he’d seen his brother though…

If they didn't share a face, he might not have recognized him.

Ford had been nearly as dirty and unkept as Stan was back in the 80s. Wild-eyed and paranoid ― Stan understood that state-of-mind well. Even now, he still had nightmares about Rico breaking his door down in search of that damned money. Thirty years of running a fairly successful business and Stan still couldn't break even.

Not with Rico, not with Pa... and sure as hell not with Ford.

He'd never be able to repay Ford for everything he’d cost him, but he could at least bring him home. Stan sighed and switched the TV channel to something more palpable, settling for a rerun of that new detective show the kids liked so much.

He ended up liking it more than he thought he would, eyes glued to the screen until Ducktective solved the case. He was still chuckling to himself as he bounced to his feet, marveling at the absence of aching muscles and cracking joints.

"Well, I'm gonna use the john. You need anything?" he joked as he stretched. Wax-Stan just grinned blankly in response. For some reason, it made him laugh. Imagine ― him being a good houseguest! "I love this guy! Don't you go nowhere."

At least this wax twin would be around for a while. Maybe he'd look good in the gift shop...

Stan was still ruminating over the possibilities of where Wax-Stan would go best in the shop when he returned to the living room, ready to get back to his mindless TV marathon, when suddenly the hair on the back of his neck lifted.

He'd never given any credit to psychic premonitions or anything like that. He'd grown up with a woman who made conning people with those beliefs a profession. But he did believe in the heightened sense of danger he’d developed living on the streets. It had saved his neck more than once. He may have been an idiot, but Stan Pines knew how to keep himself alive.

Stan slipped silently into the shadows, eyes adjusting to the sudden darkness of the living room. The TV had been switched off, only a thin rectangle of light from the staircase illuminating the entrance. He could near the twins laughing upstairs, probably brushing their teeth. Soos and Wendy were gone for the night and all the doors were locked. It could have been the gnomes messing with him, but Stan hadn't seen a hint of their pointy hats since the kids' first week in town.

Wax-Stan was still in the armchair where Stan had left him, but ― as his eyes finished adjusting to the darkness ― he could see there was something wrong with him.

"You alright there, pal?" Stan asked warily, inching into the room. His eyes darted around nervously, waiting for something to jump out at him. But the room remained still and silent as he closed the gap between him and his waxy twin.

And then he couldn't help the scream that tore out of his throat.

He'd been doing that a lot lately, he realized in a detached sort of way.

Stan could near himself screaming, but couldn't seem to control himself enough to stop. This ― this was worse than waking up as a teenager again. This was looking at his dead twin.

All he could see was his brother laid out before him, cold and stiff and lifeless. Oh Moses, what if he'd been dead from the start and Stan was just chasing a pipe dream? It wasn't a thought he allowed himself to entertain often ― he’d lose steam and crash altogether if he did ― but the thought slammed into him with all the force of a freight-train now.

Stan fell against the wall, hands coming up to his face ― a long-ingrained self-defense mechanism he carried from childhood. Poke the fingers together when embarrassed, show empty hands when you wanna look harmless, protect your face when facing down a blow.

And even though this one may not be physical, it sure hurt like it was.

"Grunkle Stan!" Mabel cried, wriggling into his lap like a particularly determined puppy. "You gotta breathe! You're having a panic attack!"

The sudden touch startled a gasp from him and Stan felt like he was gonna throw up.

"The trash can!" he wheezed, making grabby-hands at the bin behind the armchair.

Dipper rushed to get it, shoving it in front of Stan’s face in time for the sort-of-man to lose his dinner.

Well. It had been a while since he’d had to deal with something like that. Like, back in New Orleans or Houston-long ago. Back when he’d been a scared twenty-year old in over his head in some salesman scheme.

Colombia had still been worse.

Hallucinating a headless wax figure of himself as his brother's dead body was pretty high up on his list of potential nightmares now. Stan knew he wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight.

"Ugh." Dipper made a sympathetic face at the sounds Stan was making, and backed up, his face a bit green. “I'm gonna...call the sheriff. And Soos."

"Call Wendy, too!" Mabel ordered, holding Stan's sweaty hair away from his face. He slumped over the trashan, feeling entirely too exhausted to move or care about the stench. "We may need another teenager around to help Grunkle Stan."

Her eyes drifted to the headless wax figure in the armchair, face pinched with despair. She had worked so hard on that stature and Stan couldn't even keep it safe for her. Hadn't thanked her properly either.

"Not a teenager." Stan protested instead of an apology. They never helped anyway, so what was the point? “‘M fifty-seven.”

"And right now you look seventeen,"' Mabel countered firmly. "Just let us help you."

Stan stared at her in surprise.

Only a few days ago, the twins had been considering running away in the night. Now they were jumping to his rescue.

Was it just because he looked like he was one of them now... or were they beginning to care about him? The truth frightened him honestly, and he didn't dare ask and break the illusion.

So, he sat back silently and let Mabel fuss over him until Dipper returned, an anxious Soos and a bewildered Wendy in tow.

In the end, he was just too selfish to let this little moment of family slip away.

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #stanley pines #stan pines #gravity falls stanley #gravity falls stan pines #grunkle stan #de aged Stan pines #de aging #my writing #17 again au #stars align

20 notes · View notes

mohntilyet · 1 day ago

Note

not to mention the entire antaam fleet like 😭 that was the PERFECT moment to show off what the lords could do!!! The antaam fucked over rivain, theyve been a thorn in the whole nations side for a long time now, they would not pass up a chance for payback via full scale naval warfare so that the veilguard can do what they need to!! Sure dreadnoughts are dangerous but at this point they probably have tricks up their sleeve, thats one of the few things they have!

also wouldn't it be personal because does solas not try to blow up kont-aar because he's trying to 5d chess tevinter and the qunari into destroying each other. like. i know technically this would not be incredible widespread news because the attack was stopped, but i don't think the wonderful citizens of kont-aar would have missed the tsunami that nearly hit them and the shockwave that actually hit them. rumors go around. and i assume irian/vadis tell varric. who i think would tell isabela. who would tell the group she leads. who would care because ofc, they LIVE IN RIVAIN, and now know that solas and his followers thinks they can trade rivaini lives* to further his plans.

*while i also think there's probably a divide between kont-aar and the rest of the nation, it's one that the rivaini love to jump across and back over. an interesting comparison to be made here with most of rivain having similar sentiments towards dairsmuid and the chantry. like this is the country specifically mentioned to have a lot of citizens who follow the qun/are non-andrastian + it being MUCH more multicultural and accepting than other nations. any attack on rivain, even if it's a qunari settlement, would fan a lot of flames that solas cannot put out so the idea of trying to him taking multiple steps back because he didn't realise how intensely the qun/rivaini/lords would react is very fun for me. it would have been soo interesting for rivain to be a hub for efforts against solas because of how it's not influenced by andrastianism, how he (or his agents) specifically fucked them over, and (maddeningly for solas) also part of this resistance has spirits who willingly guide them against him. this could have even been a plot device where the door goes both ways and solas finds out rook's plans because he manages to eavesdrop through a seer or something.

and on the spirits. all the stuff where the mourn watch regularly communicates with spirits could have been done with rivain as well, and with different takes on being 'friendly' with spirits. iirc there's a spirit in the hall of valor which is so interesting but it's literally just there for flavour text. THERE'S A SPIRIT IN THE HALL OF VALOR THAT DOES NOTHING BESIDES LIKE. SAY HI. ??? bioware i would have liked to see more spirits and seers and the matriarchal pantheists you have talked about please. and also the idea of the peaceful qunari settlement being pushed to protect the country they are part of and what that means for them as qunari vs. rivaini. taash's storyline could have contributed to this . so A LOT less about choosing a side, more about how kont-aar has developed, changed, how rivain has influenced it and what it means to be qunari. not the qunari agents and fighters that we have seen, but their 'civillian' way of life in kont-aar.

complete waste not seeing any of established lore reflected in the lords of fortune or rivain because i stupidly actually thought we were going to see some kind of settlement and be introduced to a very different cultural norms.. in my beautiful mind i like to think taash is a little taken aback by how badly mages/elves/etc are treated. like they understood it was different outside of rivain (they would have been young when the dairsmuid circle annulment happened right? so they don't 'remember' it themself, they likely heard others talking about it when they're old enough to understand) but until they actually saw what was happening first hand, they had a weird dissonance about it. but what we got was a deserted beach, ties to another faction (wardens are fine!! they are great !!!! the fourth blight is interesting!!!! yet they are not the faction with a lack of info about them!!!!!) and also the hall of valor that exists as flavor text with nothing meaningful behind it besides a pub used in a few cutscenes and a minigame.

#it's just hard to discuss the qunari in general when it is so obviously written to be quote unquote bad #and theyre like. in veilguard. really just reduced to being an invading force. which they were before. but there's literally nothing else #not a single character that explains more about the qun or how it operates + the game presenting choices about taash #that obviously lean towards favoring rivain. god knows why. its not like we know enough about it to choose it #even a quick peek into a rivaini lifestyle would have been helpful. all we know are from lorebooks !!!!#its actually like. 'qun would have made taash into a weapon/they are actively invading treviso/theyre working w ghil+el/shathaan' etc #and then on rivain's side the points are just 'umm. well the lords are super nice. and love freedom... and its also NOT qunari!'#there ARE reasons to pick rivain just none of them are in the fuck ass game. no one who doesnt read the books would know this shit #does anyone know why the antaam are acting outside of their orders. i dont rmb if this was explained or if its supposed to be like #a very severe response to solas and defying orders to 'deal' with a threat?#but god. kont-aar as it exists is so interesting. maybe elements of like .#'the main qun ignore the changes in kont-aar/rivain because it's such an important part of their trade' situation. idk #i just cant see a lot of the extremely rigid qun followings actually meshing with this extremely 'accepting' culture that is in rivain #eg. rivaini seers allowing possessions vs. sareebas #but its said that the rivaini pantheists actually have lots in common with the teachings of the qun (?)#and again. its peaceful. most of the issues that are mentioned in games/etc are to do with the ORLESIAN chantry causing issues in rivain #so it just. makes me think. maybe things have changed and there's a blind eye to whatever happens in kont-aar #or if there are more hostilities or issues caused by their differing beliefs then it would be good to fucking like. hear about it #plus the qun in general is just. worldbuilding standpoint is like. what. im not a guy who knows too much about this part of da lore so #i had to fact check a few things while writing this response and some of the answers were like #just so unbelievable that im choosing to do whatever i want #anyways. sorry. got out of hand. let me know if anything i said isnt true #its entirely possible. my knowledge of rivain is patchwork but this is probably to do with the fact there's not a lot. yeah #god. i have to stop talking now. thank u anon for agreeing w me. sorry u asked me about the lords and i took it as an excuse #to air out my issues w rivain. because tyche was partially built up around that and then none of it even mattered #veilguard spoilers #answered #rivain

19 notes · View notes

jeanie-g · 2 days ago

Note

Did you say PROMPTS?!?!

If they’re still open then JackNico and cemeteries?

Or if that doesn’t strike your fancy then JackNico and spices?

hey!! for your viewing pleasure...

[#46] cemeteries

(slightly nsfw, tw: period-typical homophobia, mentions/fears of homophobic violence)

Nico's car screeches to a halt before the iron gates of the town cemetery, on a little passage that used to be an access road for the funeral procession, but is now overgrown with weeds and the low-hanging branches of untamed trees.

It also happens to be the perfect hiding spot for car sex.

Nico turns off the ignition, and it takes all of four seconds for Jack to leap out of the passenger seat and into his lap, hands tugging on the lapels of his letterman. He's still in his Huskies jersey that’s a size too big, and Nico is trying to be normal about it.

It's routine, to come here after a win at home, but the novelty hasn't worn off in the slightest. Probably because Jack is the one he's bringing here.

"God, that trick play," Jack says, already slightly out of breath. "I wanted to run onto the field and blow you at the 40 yard line."

Nico chuckles. "Something tells me that'd get flagged."

Jack ignores him, eyes shifting between his eyes and his mouth. "You did so good, babe, making that pass, winning the game for us."

Nico pokes out his tongue. "I thought you didn't like sports."

Jack smiles. "I don't like football, but I like you."

Nico boos. “That was bad. Absolute cheddar.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Oh, just fucking kiss me, Heisman."

And Nico does, grabbing Jack’s chin and bringing his head down to capture his lips. He can taste the salt from the popcorn he was eating in the stands. Jack wouldn't tell him where he was sitting, (not like Nico would've been able to spot him in a 70,000 capacity arena anyway), but just knowing that he was there meant the world to him.

Being a football prodigy with a full ride to U-Dub has its perks, but it isn't all cake and ice cream. Not when you're a gay football prodigy carrying the expectations that you're gonna be in the NFL someday. Even in a progressive place like Seattle, gay and football do not mix. Nico knows it wouldn't go over well if he came out. Being a lonely, closeted virgin made that pretty easy, though. If Nico never met a guy he'd like to date, then he'd never have a problem.

But then he met Jack. Loud, charming, beautiful Jack, who caught Nico's attention immediately in an acting class he tried as an elective and ended up dropping. He didn't drop Jack though, couldn't resist him when he'd cornered Nico in an empty hallway and asked him out point blank (which started as outwardly innocent drinks at the campus pub, and ended with Nico getting his dick sucked for the first time and coming all over Jack's tee shirt).

That was six months ago, and Nico can finally admit to himself that he might just be falling in love. Amazingly, it's not as scary as he thought it'd be.

But it’s 1996, and people suck, which means they have to get creative when hooking up. Nico’s got two roommates who beg off half their classes to sleep or play PC games, and Jack lives with his parents and little brother, who have a house basically down the street from campus. Besides dingy, single serve bar bathrooms (where aforementioned head was given) or the odd motel room that makes Nico paranoid, there aren’t many places they can go.

So, they spend a lot of time in Nico's car, a black 1989 Cadillac Eldorado his dad surprised him with for his 18th birthday. When Nico dreamed about owning his own car, he never envisioned washing come stains out of the bench, but when it's the only place you can have safe sex with your boyfriend, it sort of becomes the default. His car, in the dead of night, tucked into the bushes outside the all-but-abandoned cemetery.

And he’ll admit it, it can get creepy—there is a reason this place isn’t frequented, after all—but when his reward is Jack in front of him, moaning his name and sporting red marks all along his jaw, he can say it’s well worth it.

Nico breaks from Jack's lips to kiss down his neck, Jack moaning like a dream above him. He's already hard in his jeans, pent up on adrenaline from the win and Jack in his lap, and he can feel Jack's interest nudging at his belly. Nico's in paradise—a hot, pleasant haze pervading his head like a high. It’s like he’s in a trance, kissing down Jack’s collarbone.

A knock on the window shatters that, making them both jump right out of their skin. Ice shoots up Nico's spine, and they both go still.

“What the hell was that?” Jack asks, whole body rigid. “Is someone there?”

Nico says nothing, too terrified to even move. Did someone follow them here? Was it one of his teammates? What if it’s the police? Can they get arrested?! Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Nico,” Jack whispers, and he sounds so scared. Immediately, stories come to mind—ones Jack has told him about getting caught with another guy before. All the bruises and black eyes whose origins he had to lie to his parents about.

That breaks Nico out of his funk. Cop or not, if someone wants to lay a fucking finger on Jack, they’ll have to through U-Dub’s star quarterback first. Nico cranks his window down a crack, but when he looks through the brush and into the semi-darkness, no one's there—just the little light coming from the moon.

Hesitantly, he cranks it further, and when there’s still no sign of life, sticks his head out the window. He looks around, and it’s just as quiet as it was when they got there.

“They could be hiding, Neeks.”

“I don’t hear any rustling, though. With this much brush around us…”

Jack sighs. “We should just go.”

He makes to get out of Nico’s lap, but Nico gently grabs his hip.

“No, hold on. Hold on." He exhales, rolling it over in his head. "We’re miles from any houses, and no one is just walking around cemeteries at 10 o’clock. And if someone was following us, we would’ve heard their car and seen their lights.” Nico runs his hands down Jack’s arms to soothe him. “It was probably, like, an acorn hitting the car. Or a bird.”

Jack seems to mull this over. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, I’m just..."

“No, no need to apologize, love. We’re okay.”

Jack exhales, bringing a hand to Nico’s cheek. He slowly leans in to kiss him, and Nico kisses him back, sweet and soothing.

It takes a few minutes for the both of them to settle down from the spook, but eventually things get heated again, Jack shifting in Nico’s lap to grind his hips down on Nico’s thigh.

"Do you have stuff?" Jack asks between panting breaths.

"Yeah, in my bag," Nico says, removing a hand from Jack's hair and leaning forward to root around in his gym duffel on the floor of the passenger seat. Jack mutters absolute filth into his ear while he does, enough to make a porn star blush.

After several seconds, though, Nico can't find the travel bottle of lube—just his sweaty gym clothes, his half-empty Kool Rider, and a pack of gum.

"Shit," he says, sitting back in his seat. "I don't have it."

"What?"

Nico does some mental cataloguing. "Must've left it in my room."

"Oh," Jack says, clearly disappointed.

Before Nico'd had sex, he assumed no one ever really wanted to bottom, that it was the short end of the wishbone—just a chore. It was Jack who educated him on the wonders of the male prostate, taking Nico's cock so many different ways that it made Nico's head spin. Jack'd even topped him a couple times, leading to some of the most vivid and intense orgasms of his life.

That being said, Jack loves to ride Nico, and he gets impatient and bitchy when he doesn't get his way—but there's still plenty they can do with what they have. Nico intends to demonstrate, snaking a hand down the front of Jack's jeans, when another knock on the window makes them both scream.

Jack shrinks back, flopping onto the passenger seat and hugging himself. "Okay, what the fuck was that?!" he cries.

And Nico doesn't know. Looking out the window, and craning his ear against it, there's still nothing. And while the sound before could be attributed to nonthreatening objects, as he had theorized, this knock was distinctly human fist-sounding.

"That's it," Nico says, sitting up and angling towards the door. He doesn't know what's going on, but someone is clearly messing with them—quietly making their way in and out of the brush and hiding before they can see who they are. Hell, it could even be an animal.

Jack reaches forward to grab him. "Nico, no! We don't know who's out there!"

"Well, whoever or whatever it is can't jerk us around. Here." He twists to reach into the backseat, retrieving the miniature baseball bat he keeps there. "This'll teach 'em."

Jack swallows, but lets go. "Be safe, okay?"

With a quick exhale, Nico unlocks the door and pulls the handle, poising his bat as he gets out of the car. He closes the door behind him, protecting Jack inside, and paws his way out of the brush.

"Alright!" Nico shouts. "Who's the funny guy, eh?"

No voices echo. Only crickets. Nico swallows and ventures out, checking under the car and behind trees. Nothing. Either their interloper is a ninja or they're both going insane.

As Nico stands, hands on his hips, contemplating what to do next, he can't deny the eerie atmosphere surrounding him. The longer he stands there, the more suffocated he feels, like the air itself is closing in on him. Something cold passes by his neck, making his hairs stand on end. He reaches back to touch it. Then he makes eye contact with one of the dilapidated stone gargoyles peering over the top of the iron gates.

Maybe Jack's right. Maybe they should just leave. Interloper or not, he's starting to get the creeps. But when he turns and takes a step, his foot makes contact with something small. He moves his shoe, and bends down, shining the flashlight. He squints his eyes.

"What the fuck?"

It's a brand new, still shrink-wrapped bottle of lube.

Was that...there before? It doesn't look weathered, or even slightly dirty. Like someone just picked it up right off the shelf and placed it for Nico's shoe to find. Hesitantly, and to see if his eyes aren't deceiving him, maybe, he picks it up. His neck goes cold again, making him shiver through three layers of clothing.

He drops it, and the feeling fades. What?

He leaves it on the ground and heads back to the car, opening the door and sliding back into his seat.

"So?" Jack asks eagerly. "What was it?"

Nico shakes his head. "I dunno, there was... lube on the ground? Outside of the car."

"Huh? Lube?"

Nico nods. "It wasn't there when I stepped out, I swear." It's silent for a moment, and then Jack starts laughing. Nico turns to him, surprised. He thought it'd freak him out, but...

At the sight of Jack in a fit of hysterics, the sheer oddity of the situation falls on Nico. Strange knocks on the window with no signs of anyone around, temperature drops, an object appearing right when they needed it, all at the sight of a definitely haunted cemetery?

Nico's not one to think supernatural first and foremost, but if he didn't know any better...

"D'you think," Jack gets out between gasps for air. "D'you think some ghosts are trying to help us fuck?"

Nico doesn't think Jack's honestly posing the question, but suddenly he wants to be anywhere but here.

"I'm not sticking around here long enough to find out."

Nico grabs his keys from the center console and starts the ignition, and without much more fanfare, they're headed back towards campus. The spook was enough of a boner kill, but looking at Jack still smiling to himself in the passenger seat, hair all mussed and pretty...

He doesn't think it'll be that difficult to pick up right where they left off.

(In a bed, preferably.)

#the ghosts were just trying to help!!!#smh ungrateful ass men #nhl rpf #nicojack #fic request

19 notes · View notes

deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 7 hours ago

Text

In Every Universe

Well. S2EP7 huh. What a ride. Went back to rewatch parts of it while researching for this fic and man, does it still hit as hard as ever. I suppose the sad Arcane playlist didn't help either.

Right, here it is, the longest piece I've ever written in all my years of fanfiction writing. I'm so glad Arcane existed, for all its flaws I still love the series with my whole heart and especially a certain one-eyed war criminal underground drug lord.

Playlist I listened to while writing this:

Spoilers for Arcane Season 2 Episode 7 ahead

One moment you're face to face with the arcane itself, and the next you're staring at a wooden ceiling that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. There's something warm next to you and your confused mind registers the weight of something on your chest.

Your first instinct is to quickly free yourself, to put some distance between you and the possibly harmful object, so you lash out at it, rolling off the bed. A rather familiar sounding yelp of pain comes from your left, but your disoriented mind can't remember why it sounds so familiar.

"Easy there, love," a voice groans. Your breath catches in your throat when the figure the voice belongs to sleepily sits up, rubbing his eye.

Silco?

You shake your head. This can't be, he's dead, you've seen his body, you know for certain he's dead, but then why are you seeing this? An illusion? A trick of the mind? Hallucinations?

Your mind races through the possibilities, each more absurd than the last. 'Silco' slides off the bed, carefully approaching you as he should and you properly take in his appearance. Gone is his orange and black eye, instead white surrounds a pale yellow iris. His features are softer, sea-foam coloured eye filled with a level of concern and worry you've only seen him show before he became The Eye of Zaun.

"Love?" His voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

You narrow your eyes at him, muscles tensing. "If this is an illusion, it's a terrible one considering you can't even replicate Silco properly."

"What are you talking about, love? The last I checked, I wasn't an illusion," 'Silco' tilts his head in confusion and raises his hands in surrender. "I mean you no harm, love."

Your hands clench into fists. His words may not contain any lies you can detect but you know better than to let down your guard in unfamiliar territory. You shift your foot and lunge at him, tackling 'Silco' to the ground with a snarl. His eye widens but just like the Silco you know, he quickly regains his signature calm and throws you off.

"I don't want to hurt you, love, but you're not giving me much of a choice with that attitude of yours." 'Silco' huffs. His palms remain open but you can see his muscles tense slightly. You continue your barrage of attacks, and he counters them all with practiced ease, as though he's seen those moves a thousand times before.

The both of you dance until you gain the upper hand by pulling out a move that catches him off guard and pin him to the ground. Your hand slips to where you know he hides a dagger but your fingers find nothing, to your surprise. Taking advantage of that moment, 'Silco' rolls out from under you, panting.

"Now now, love. I know we're married but still, warn me before you start feeling me up." He flashes you a cheeky grin, something he hasn't done in a long time and leaves you even more confused. Something isn't adding up, he's both the Silco you know and isn't. He knows your fighting moves, knows how to counter them which proves that he is the Silco you know and he smells like the Silco you know — cigar ash and scotch. However his left eye is different and he doesn't carry Vander's dagger on him at all times. Wait did he say the two of you are married?

"Married?" You echo.

"Don't tell me you lost your memory," he frowns. "You're acting weird today, love, what has gotten into you?"

"You're the weird one!" You spit back. There's no sensible explanation for any of this…unless…

"Everything alright in there? I know I told you two to turn things down especially at night, some of us need to sleep." Yet another familiar voice sounds from outside the door.

Vander?

"Everything's fine, and don't worry you'll be getting the sleep you need every night," 'Silco' drawls before turning back to you. You stare wide-eyed at the door, throat tightening as emotions threaten to overwhelm you. Flashes of your past with the two brothers race through your mind, Vander's easy smile and comforting presence, Silco's sharp wit and seeming indifference towards you and Vander, your laughter and love for them both. A tear slides down your cheek and you bolt from the room, racing down the stairs you know so well and out the bar, only to be met with a city you don't recognise.

Zaun is lit up, the sun shining down on both cities as Zaunites and Piltovians alike walk past you, chatting away. The streets bustle as hawkers call out their wares and golden light shines upon the Bridge of Progress which is further littered with shops instead of blockades and enforcers. Everywhere you look, buildings stand tall and proud, colour decorates the dirty grey city you knew and your heart shatters.

This…is this what could have been?

Your vision blurs from the tears pouring down your face as it hits you. This is an alternate reality, there's no other explanation. A reality where Zaun becomes independent, co-existing as equals with Piltover. A reality where Silco and Vander's dream comes true.

You stand in the middle of the street with tear streaks on your cheeks, eyes puffy and feel so lost until someone drapes something over your shoulders. It's warm, whatever it is, and smells nice.

"I'm right here." Arms gently guide you to rest your head on a familiar shoulder. "Take all the time you need."

You're not sure why but that's all it takes for the dam to break and you find yourself sobbing hard into his shoulder. His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer and you feel his lips press against the top of your head. You hug him tightly, mind still screaming that this is all a dream, but if this is really just all a dream, you don't want to wake up.

Once you've calmed down, you lift your head and Silco smiles softly at you. "Shall we go home?"

You hum in agreement, letting him lead you back to The Last Drop. You can feel his hand resting on the small of your back, his shoulder brushing against yours and lean into the touch, grateful for the support. He feels the same as the Silco you know, and if you close your eyes, you're back there again, before the incident at the bridge, before you were forced to choose between Silco and Vander.

When you enter The Last Drop, 'Vander' slides a glass of your favourite drink towards you while 'Silco' takes a seat next to you.

"Nothing for me?" 'Silco' teases. 'Vander' laughs, but slides him a glass of scotch anyways. 'Silco' takes a sip before placing the cup between the two of you, gently resting his hand on your forearm. You cautiously place your own hand on top of his, it fits the same way as your Silco's hand does, but your Silco is dead and this Silco is alive. Then again your Vander is dead and this Vander is alive.

You sniff the drink in front of you, eyeing it warily. 'Silco' snorts, lifting the glass to his lips and takes a mouthful. "See? Not poisoned. What has gotten into you today?"

You frown, tapping your finger on the counter top as you think of a way to broach this topic. How were you going to explain that somehow, you had been transported into your body from an alternate universe? There was also the nagging question of where Ekko, Heimerdinger and Jayce were, if they were even in this universe as well. You heave a sigh, looking into sea foam and grey eyes.

"Just a nightmare." You can't tell them anything, and doubt they'll believe you anyways. 'Silco' narrows his eyes but 'Vander' places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. 'Silco' scowls but relents and leaves you alone for the rest of the day, which you spend exploring this alternate reality.

Turns out, this is the reality in which Vi died in the explosion. 'Vander' has different tattoos, but he still betrayed 'Silco' and tried to kill him. How the two made up, well for whatever reason the two seemed adamant about keeping it quiet, but it made your heart ache for what could have been back in your universe.

That night, you can't sleep. Your mind is racing, going through everything you've learnt today. In the dark, you can see 'Silco' peacefully slumbering on his right side, an arm draped over your waist. His chest gently rises and falls with each breath he takes, his face buried into your chest. He looks completely different from your Silco when he sleeps, his dark brown hair tousled, facial muscles relaxed and lips curved into what looks like a smile. Your Silco never slept on his right side, always preferring to sleep on his left side with a dagger clutched under the pillow.

'Silco' mumbles something, stirring slightly and you shift, only for him to blindly grasp for your arm so that he can bury himself further into your chest, bringing a small smile to your face. It's been so long since you've shared your bed with another, maybe you can indulge him just this once. It wouldn't hurt…right?

You run your fingers through his hair, remembering the times where you'd comb his hair for him, gently pressing kisses to his scarred cheek until he told you he had a meeting to attend and then you'd kiss him on the lips for good luck before letting him go. 'Silco' purrs softly, nuzzling into you and holds you closer, a free heater on this cool night.

You miss this. You miss hugging your lover like it's your last moment in this world, you miss his touch, his warmth. You miss the way he holds you tightly when he's feeling down, the feeling of his forehead pressing against yours, the electricity that crackles in the air when his fingers linger on your hand longer than it needs to as he passes you his cigar. You miss the way he makes your heart race from all the small smiles he sends your way during a meeting with the chem-barons, the way he makes you stifle a laugh when he rolls his eye at their bickering, but most of all the way he holds your hand. Your palms have always slotted into each other's like puzzle pieces, made perfectly for one another.

This 'Silco' is the same, yet different, and despite all his faults, you've always loved your Silco. It's why you chose to side with him over Vander, why you walked down the path towards hell with him despite knowing where it led. You knew that given the choice again, you would always choose him over everything else, and if that made you loyal to him to a fault, so be it.

Still, you wonder if you could've steered him towards the path this 'Silco' took. Would you have been able to nudge him towards forgiveness, leaving his hatred and vengeance behind for the shared dream of Zaun? You shake your head, what's past is past, there's no changing it. The only thing you can do now it look forward, and push on ahead, as you know your Silco would want you to, but doing so is so much harder than knowing it.

I love you, the words you were never able to say to him. The both of you always knew how the other felt, but neither of you ever verbalised it. You trace 'Silco's' scars, wondering if this version of you ever uttered those words to him.

"Can't sleep, love?" He mumbles, rolling over so that he can see you.

"It's just…been a long day."

He hums, and then pulls you into a hug, resting his chin on the top of your head. Rubbing gentle circles on your back, he nuzzles your hair. "Then you better get as much rest as you can. I'll be here when you wake up."

Tears begin to fill your eyes again but you squeeze them shut, willing the grief away. If this is a dream, you want it to continue on forever. You don't want to wake up, you don't want to lose Silco and Vander again.

But you still wake up.

Because you have to.

On your second day, you learn that Ekko and Powder are preparing for a competition.

"Ekko?"

"Y/N?"

"Are you —"

"Do you know where we can talk in private?"

You've never been so relieved to hear that.

You learn that Ekko and Heimerdinger have met up, and that Jayce is nowhere to be found. Ekko has a theory that recreating what brought all three of you to this universe in the first place might be able to send you all back home, and he's been trying to do just that the past few days.

"Home," you echo, staring at the bustling city below.

"You…don't want to go back?"

"Do you?" Your question catches him off guard and he pauses, looking at the ground.

"I…I don't know."

"You and Powder, right?" You give him a knowing look and he looks away, embarrassed. "I know the feeling."

He raises an eyebrow but you press on, ignoring the inquisitive look he sends your way. "This world…this universe, it's everything we've wanted. Well, almost everything. Looking at all this, I don't know if I want to go back. Do I want to throw it all away just to go back to bloodshed, chaos and war?"

"We have people back home who need us."

Sevika.

Jinx.

Their faces flash in your mind and your throat constricts.

"We can't just abandon them, as much as we prefer this world." Ekko's eyes are hard. "We have to go back."

It's hurting him to say this, but he's saying it anyways because he knows it's right. You look back at the bright city of Zaun and sigh. Ekko speaks the cold hard truth, but you're torn. Going back means confronting the reality that Vander, and more importantly Silco, are forever lost to you, that Zaun is still struggling in the fight against Piltover, that you have to fight every day to survive, but going back also means reuniting with your closest friend Sevika, your adopted daughter Jinx, and you know they need you as much as you need them.

"I've made my mind up," Ekko turns to leave. "Let me know when you've made yours up. In the meantime, I'll be working on my theory with Heimerdinger."

"…thanks."

"Never thought I'd hear you thank me."

"Well, I never thought I'd end up in an alternate universe, so there."

Ekko snorts and leaves you alone with your thoughts. He's right, it seems this alternate universe is starting to influence you, in a good way from the looks of it. You huff in amusement, letting yourself smile and look out at the silhouette of Piltover in the distance. You owed it to your Silco to see his dream of an equal Zaun and Piltover, and the only way to do that was to go home.

"You doing alright?" You turn to see 'Vander' standing behind you.

"Well, that depends really. Are you talking physically, emotionally or mentally?"

"Even if he doesn't act like it, Silco's worried about you. He's been asking me to talk to you since you won't tell him what's going on."

"Aren't you supposed to keep that last part a secret?" You chuckle. He shrugs, moving over to stand next to you.

"Well, it's out of the bag now, he can't do anything about that. So, are you going to tell me if everything's alright or am I going to have to pry it out of you with alcohol?"

"Hmph." You take a seat and he follows, carefully watching your every move. "If you had to choose between being with the one you love and saving Zaun, which would you pick?"

"I would save Zaun." You blink at him, surprised at the lack of hesitation in his answer. You knew which option he would choose, but the speed at which he gave his answer was unexpected.

"If there's anything I've learnt from all these years, it's that the ones we love are never truly gone. They are right here." He places a hand over his heart. "Felicia, Vi, everyone we've lost, they're kept alive by our memories, our feelings, our thoughts, and are always with us."

"You always know what to say," you huff, choking back the tears. "Never missed a beat, not even once."

"You can always talk to us, little dove. We're always here for you, Silco and I." You throw yourself into Vander's arms, hugging him tightly. He wraps his arms around you in turn, holding you securely in his warm embrace.

Little dove. You never thought you'd hear that nickname again. The dove had died the day you chose to follow Silco down the path towards hell, you still remember the looks of sorrow Vander had given you as you turned your back on him, hate filling your eyes. You'd been angry at him for what he did to Silco, hurled words you wish you could take back, screamed then cried, wrapped in Silco's cold embrace as he whispered of the revenge the both of you would take on Vander.

And you never got the chance to apologise.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," you wail, clutching at his sleeves. "I should never have said any of that, I shouldn't have cursed you, I take it all back, I take it all back."

"I've already long forgiven you." His words are enough to make you break, screaming out your grief over what you've lost forever. You cry and cry, letting out all your regret, the bottled up emotions finally spilling out after years of containing them for the sake of staying strong. Your nails dig into his arms, gripping onto him for support as your body wracks with every cry. The world around you blurs from the tears and you feel your knees buckle but a pair of strong arms catch you.

"I've got you."

Your body squeezes out one last sob before it collapses, unable to bear the weight of it all anymore.

If only I had your back the same way you always had mine.

When you next open your eyes, you're back on your shared bed with 'Silco', with a singular sea foam coloured eye watching you. He shifts, moving closer to you and gently cups your cheek, thumb gliding over your skin.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I thought following you into hell was the best thing I could do for you, but it wasn't. I should have said something, done something to stop you from destroying yourself, cleared your vision when it became clouded, but I was too weak to. I didn't want to lose you, not after losing everything else."

He presses a kiss to your forehead. "I'm right here, just as I promised."

That's right, how could you have forgotten? Promises whispered in the dead of night, huddled on the rooftop under a single coat, lips locking as fingers intertwined, foreheads pressed against each other, time freezing in that moment, the world condensed to just the both of you.

Stay by my side, always?

Always.

Moments clouded by the haze of anger, vengeance and hatred slowly begin to reveal themselves, memories buried the day you turned your back on Vander flooding back into your head. A warm hug, a hand ruffling your hair, deep laughter, the clink of glasses raised in toast to a new future, music playing in the background, a pen nib scratching on paper, hands brushing against one another sending tingles up your spine, a shy smile, lying on the rooftop looking up at nothing, dreaming of a better future.

"Stay, please."

"I'm not going anywhere, love. You're stuck with me forever."

You feel the bed dip as he moves to lie down next to you, slipping his hand into yours. Looking into his eye, you see a glimmer that your Silco lost along with his left eye, a quiet look of adoration, of endless love and you lean in, feeling his soft lips, tasting the scotch he loves to drink.

It feels wrong, this is not your Silco, but just for the moment you let yourself drift away, kissing him deeper, pouring all your love and regret into the act. He kisses back fervently, hungrily devouring you, eye closed as time comes to a stop around the both of you.

"I miss you," you breathe, lips parting. "I miss you so much."

"It's only been half a day."

"Shut up."

"Make me." You slam your lips against his once more, savouring the taste of him, fingers tangled in his hair. He pulls you closer, greedily devouring you. One hand rests on the back of your neck while the other rests on your back as he kisses you like there's no tomorrow. Maybe there is no tomorrow, maybe you have to go back to your universe tonight but right now, all you can think about is how much you've missed this.

Your lips finally part as you gasp for air, lost in the bliss of the moment. You feel his hands cup your cheeks, his forehead pressing against yours as you both bask in each other's presence. He's so warm, nothing like the body you cradled months ago as your world shattered, wails ripped from your throat. His touch is gentle, calloused fingers ghosting over your skin as he holds you like you're the most precious thing in the world.

It's nice, living in this universe where everyone you love is alive and well, where you're happily married to the man you've devoted your life to, but you know you don't belong. Your hands are stained with blood that you can never wash off, Shimmer taints the blood in your veins and your heart is broken beyond repair. In this world of peace, of wholeness, you will never find a place. It's made for the you of this universe, the you who still remembers how to live in a time of peace, who doesn't jump at every shadow believing it to be a threat.

You breathe in deeply, basking in his comforting presence. He still smells of cigar ash and scotch, but it's less sharp. You reach up, placing your hands on top of his and close your eyes. Like this, it's almost as if your Silco is the one cradling your face and you feel a silent tear slide down your cheek.

Damn, you've been crying a lot since you arrived in this universe.

He moves a hand to wipe the tear away, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. As he pulls back, his lips curve into a smile and you mentally save the image. You never imagined he could be capable of such levels of love after Vander's betrayal but here he was, having forgiven Vander, having the courage to marry you openly, having the courage to wear his wedding ring on his finger. He was so much stronger than you thought, and you feel bad for doubting him.

I never thought I'd see you smile like that again, even if it's you in another universe. The thought rings in your head and you can't help but let a chuckle slip. The first genuine laugh you've made since arriving in this universe.

"And what's suddenly so funny?" He does his signature head tilt, mockingly glaring at you. It seems some habits remain the same in every universe.

"Nothing," you hum, heart feeling lighter. It's like a weight has been lifted from your chest, and you feel free. You take in his features, remembering every line on your Silco's face, remembering the shape of his scar, remembering his touch, remembering the way he would kiss you, but these memories no longer choke you, no longer crush you under their weight. Instead, they're cast in a radiant glow, preserved in your heart.

He snorts in disbelief but doesn't press it further, choosing to cuddle under the blanket with you. Your fingers thread through his hair, the rhythm slowly lulling him to sleep and soon he's drifted off, allowing you to untangle yourself from him and slip out.

You head to the rooftop, breathing in the cool night air and watch the lights of the city below twinkle. Gone are the bright and aggressive neon lights of the Zaun you're familiar with, replaced with the soft glow of white lights.

It's beautiful. A different kind of beauty, but still as beautiful as the Zaun you know and love. The night breeze whispers in your ear, carrying the hums of the city's nightlife. You lie down on the cold hard floor, reaching up at the sky with one hand and wonder if you will ever be able to grasp the dream of an independent Zaun for your universe.

"Is the bed not comfortable enough for you?" 'Silco' sits down next to your head, leaning back on his palms.

"Nice to see you too." You've never really registered the fact that he doesn't hide his scars in this universe, but under the night lights, the ridges of his scar stand out, drawing your attention to them. He hums, looking out at the sprawling city.

"Do you think we fall in love in every universe?" You blurt out.

He looks over at you, raising an eyebrow. "Feeling sentimental all of a sudden?"

"Just thinking about it."

He hums, deep in thought. "I would like to believe so."

You smile. "Yeah, me too."

As the night goes by, you feel your eyes start to close. It's so tiring, sorting through your bottled up emotions, but as you look up to see 'Silco' smiling, you decide that maybe it's not so bad if it means you get to see him at peace.

The next few days pass by in a blur. You help 'Vander' prepare The Last Drop for the upcoming Innovator's Competition celebration, hanging up the decorations and drop by Ekko's place for updates on the machine. You do what you can to help Ekko, Powder and Heimerdinger out but amidst geniuses, you can only do so much. Still, as the machine comes closer and closer to completion, trepidation creeps in.

Are you really going to throw it all away just to go home?

On the day of the celebration, you take the chance to explore the city a little more, wanting to take in more of the sights before you return to your universe. 'Silco' offers to accompany you but you turn him down, telling him that it would just be a quick in and out. You see his expression falter for just a split second but he lets you go. You thank him, pressing a quick peck on his scarred cheek before slipping out the door, into the familiar yet unfamiliar streets of Zaun.

You wander around aimlessly, wondering if your Zaun will ever reach the same level of prosperity and peace. Children play in the water fountain, laughing as they splash about without a care in the world. Friends stand around, chatting away as if they have all the time in the world. You feel like a stranger here, used to the dark grey and the shadows that make up your Zaun.

Walking past a bakery, the smell of freshly baked bread fills your nose, bringing you back to the time when you had jumped into Silco's arms, laughing as you clutched a bag of fresh bread stolen from a Piltovian bakery, yelling at him to run before the enforcers could catch up. He had stood there for a moment, cheeks flushed before realising what you just said and took off running, gripping tightly onto your arm. You remember the adrenaline that had coursed through your veins, the loud and freeing laughter that rang through the air, the way you had breathlessly pinned him against the wall, kissing him for the first time as enforcers walked past the both of you, the bag of bread pressed between your bodies. You remember his flustered expression as you broke the kiss, adrenaline fading, his conflicted look before he pulled you in for another kiss, this time deeper.

You buy a bun just for old times' sake, tearing off a chunk. It's pretty good, although not as good as the one you stole. You had shared the stolen bread with Silco, cheekily taking a bite from his loaf and scarpering off before he could do the same to yours, his footsteps and shouts getting louder as he gained on you. He had taken his revenge that day, taking a bite from your loaf before flicking you on the forehead, grumbling about how you made him run so much.

You'd only laughed, ribbing him with your elbow before plopping onto your usual bar stool, eyes shining while he took out his notebook with a sigh, still nibbling on his bread and continued calculating The Last Drop's finances. Vander had shook his head in amusement once he found out what was going on, teasing Silco about getting married to you which caused Silco to bury himself further into his notebook, but neither you nor Vander missed the way the tips of his ears turned red.

The bread that day had tasted sweeter than usual, and back then you had chalked it up to a difference in baking but now that you think about it, it was probably because you were sharing it with Silco. You smile, taking another bite of your bread and continue your aimless journey, watching as the city moves all around you, going about their day.

A particular store catches your attention, the jewellery on display glinting in the light and you make your way over, still munching on your bread. Rings, bracelets, piercings and necklaces fill the counter, but a ring in particular catches your attention. It's a simple silver band on the surface, but you recognise the markings carved into it.

"You've got good taste. That ring's special, carved with archaic runes that are said to preserve the feelings of the gifter." The shopkeeper pushes the box in which the ring sits closer to you.

"So I've heard." You trace the runes, remembering the first time you laid eyes on this ring.

It had been during one of your little adventures into Piltover and a particularly fancy box had caught your eye. Making sure no one was looking, your nimble fingers had swiped the box and you disappeared into the shadows, curious about what lay within. Upon opening the box, you were disappointed by the sight that greeted you. It was a simple silver ring, with nothing of note until you looked closer. Something was carved into the metal, patterns that looked like runes. Now that was a ring worth selling. You had pocketed it, wondering how high you could sell it for until you overheard someone talking about proposing to their girlfriend with a ring amidst a flower field.

A romantic gesture huh. You had slipped the ring out again, looking it over. Would Silco appreciate such a gesture? Marriages were few and far between in Zaun, it was something few could even think about, and fewer chose to go with it. You didn't need marriage to know how Silco felt about you, it was as clear as day to those whom you wanted to know about it and that was more than enough for the both of you. Still, it would make a nice gift, so you had pocketed the ring and headed towards The Last Drop where your proposal had gone terribly unromantic.

You let slip a quiet chuckle as you recall that night, hand reaching for the ring hanging around the chain on your neck and tucked underneath your shirt only to grasp at nothing. Oh…right…this version of you never proposed to Silco via that ring so instead he had proposed to you with a different ring that this version of you wore on your ring finger. You fiddle with the ring on your finger, thanking the shopkeeper for her time before heading back to The Last Drop. It is almost time for the celebration, and you want dibs on the first bottle of alcohol opened.

The walk back feels strangely melancholic, maybe it's the colour the setting sun bathes the city in, maybe it's the thought of needing to leave this city behind when you go back to your universe since the machine is so close to completion, but you purposely walk slower than normal. Your fingers brush along the walls of buildings, run over the stone the water fountains are made from, and gently rest on the cooling metal of the benches.

How will you bid farewell to this universe's Silco? You sit on one of the benches, looking up at the sky, lost in thought. Your heart still yearns for Silco, but you also know that you have a responsibility to Jinx and Sevika, both of whom are in your home universe.

"Penny for your thoughts?" You look to your left as Heimerdinger climbs onto the bench, taking a seat next to you.

"No thanks." You turn your gaze back to the sky, arms draped over the bench's backrest.

"I must admit, I don't know what's troubling you, but I do know when someone's carrying a heavy burden." He follows your gaze, looking up at the sky. "And the burden you bear is a terribly heavy one."

"What do you know of carrying heavy burdens?"

"I know that it's heavier when carried alone, and that the bearer tends to think they're alone when in reality they aren't."

You laugh, "your kind live long lives, don't they?"

"Indeed we do."

"Do you have any regrets then?"

"Oh, plenty, but I've learnt to move on from them. No one doesn't have regrets, what defines us is how we deal with them. Some let their regrets consume them and wallow in self-pity, others rise above their regrets and learn from them. The question is how will you deal with yours?" Heimerdinger looks at you.

"I've been ignoring mine, pretending that they don't exist, but I've been forced to confront them here. I know I can't turn back time to fix my mistakes, I know they can never be fixed, but this — this universe, in this universe my regrets don't exist. I can be free of my regrets here, and yet, I have a duty to those from our universe. I have friends, other family, people to lead. I can't just abandon them, but I don't want to lose this paradise either." You heave a deep sigh, closing your eyes. "I don't know if I can lose the one I love for the second time."

"I admire your strength, it's a kind few possess. To still consider duty when it means losing someone you love again, it's a testament to who you are. I cannot claim to understand how you feel, but I have heard that we only ever truly lose someone when we forget them."

"Hmph. Vander." You snort. "Everywhere I go, he still influences the people around him."

"He must be quite the fellow."

"He is. The Hound of Zaun, people called him. Yet he's the gentlest and kindest person I know. And I let him die." Your words fade into a whisper. "All because I wasn't strong enough to steer the one I loved away from the path of destruction."

"You aren't the only one who has stood by and watched as someone they cared about destroyed themself." Heimerdinger bows his head. "I failed my pupil, and not a day goes by where I wonder if I should have done more back then, but I believe I did what I could. With hindsight as my teacher, I learn not to repeat that mistake so that I won't regret it again. I know you have the strength to do the same."

"Such optimism."

"I only speak the truth. Now then, I must go back to the lab and continue working on our way home. Enjoy yourself at the party, time is precious especially when we only have so much of it left."

"Enjoy myself huh. I suppose I can try." You stand up, stretching your limbs. "I doubt there'll be another party any time soon."

The party that takes place that night is nothing like you've ever experienced before. The floor is abuzz with excited young inventors showing off their latest fancy gadgets, alcohol exchanging hands as friends and lovers alike chat the night away, all the while you hang behind the counter, watching the scene unfold.

"Finally acting your age?" 'Benzo' laughs boisterously, slapping you on the back.

"Could say the same about you," you retort, taking a sip from your glass. 'Silco' had left earlier to mingle with other people, but you weren't exactly in the mood to form more relationships you knew were going to end soon. 'Vander' remained behind the bar counter to serve drinks and in the beginning you tried to help him, but you soon began trying each drink that was opened, much to his amusement and he 'fired' you from your job.

"Go out there and have fun, I've got it covered here." He had shooed you away but all you did was move a couple of steps before stopping, refusing to move any further. 'Vander' had sighed but had let you remain there, and still you remain at your spot, even after 'Silco' has long disappeared into the crowd.

Ekko meets your gaze and leans in, "so, what's your answer?"

"I…I need more time to think." You swallow, glancing at where you last saw 'Silco'.

"You don't have much more time." His eyebrows furrow.

"I know. I just…need to sort some things out first, get rid of the monsters of my past that kind of thing," you joke but Ekko doesn't laugh along.

"Tonight, once the party dies down, come with me to the lab. Heimerdinger said he wants to discuss something with us."

"Sure." With that out of the way, you turn to go and find 'Silco'. He at least needed to know that you would be disappearing tonight. Your heart thunders in your chest, anxiety surfacing as you struggle to think of what to say to him. You can't exactly tell him that you're from an alternate universe and might be going back to your universe soon, that would be insane.

You watch as 'Silco' makes his way over to 'Vander', surprised when he slips an arm around your waist and basically hauls you over as well with a smile.

"So, there's a chance for us yet." He places a hand on 'Vander's' shoulder, looking up at the bigger man. He presses a kiss to your forehead, chuckling, "we'll finally get the rest we deserve, love. Aren't you excited?"

Ekko gapes at you, the pieces finally falling into place. "You —"

"The monsters of my past," you smile sadly at him, letting out a deep breath. "You're not the only one."

Ekko shakes his head but you can tell, he understands. You and Silco, your destinies intertwined no matter the universe. I'm sorry, he mouths. 'Vander' pours a drink for 'Silco' who looks at Ekko with a fondness you've never seen before, a mixture of pride and sass.

"Didn't think I'd miss your big day, did you?" 'Silco' smirks.

"Didn't you try to kill him?" Ekko blurts out and you feel 'Silco's' grip on you tighten. You place your hand on his, thumb brushing over the back of his palm and he shoots you a look of gratitude, taking the glass from 'Vander'.

"The greatest thing we can do in life is find the power to forgive." He raises the glass in toast to 'Vander', gaze softening as he turns to you, taking a sip from his glass before handing the rest to you. "Don't get too drunk, love. I'd rather not have to haul you off to bed later."

"I'm not a child," you pout and 'Silco' laughs, nuzzling into your hair. Ekko chuckles, taking a sip from his drink when suddenly, the lights go out and streamers fall from the ceiling. Powder walks in, turning every head within her vicinity. You watch as Ekko steps forward, taking her hand and begins to dance. Their bodies sway to the beat, moving in sync and the crowd moves to make space for the couple. More begin to dance, twirling upon the dance floor as the music picks up and you can't help but watch, wondering what it's like to feel so free.

"May I?" A voice murmurs in your ear and you look down to find a hand extended towards you. 'Silco' smiles encouragingly and you slip your hand into his.

"I've never —"

"Just follow my lead and trust me."

"Don't you go letting me down, you hear?"

"Have I ever?" He pulls you in, pressing a deep kiss to your lips before spinning you around. Soon, you find yourself led by the music and 'Silco's' gentle guidance, your feet gliding over the dance floor. You feel light as a feather, a big smile gracing your features, eyes focused only on 'Silco' whose gaze remains fixed on you. His fingertips ghost over your skin, sending shivers up your spine and you lean in, lips mere inches away from his before you pull away. You can't recall the last time you felt so alive. The air is electrifying, your lungs gasping for air as 'Silco' pulls you in for another kiss, his arms wrapping themselves around you.

Dawn will come, you know, and the night will be over, but while it lasts, you will squeeze it for every drop of enjoyment it has to offer. You inhale his scent, the cigar ash drowned out by the alcohol he's drunk and capture his lips in a fervent kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and he indulges you, savouring the taste of your wine-tainted lips.

"I love you," he whispers. "Always, and forevermore."

You open your mouth to say the words you never got to say to your Silco but they get stuck in your throat. You struggle to say something back, emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

"Yeah," you finally manage to breathe out. "I know."

His gaze softens, thumb running over your cheek and you almost don't tell him of your plan to visit the lab tonight but you catch a glimpse of Ekko leaving the party and steel yourself. You have to, this is not your world, as much as you wish it were. You can't keep running away, if Silco can find a way to forgive Vander, you can find a way to forgive yourself.

"Silco?" The word feels foreign on your tongue.

"Yes, love?"

"I need to leave."

"Leave?" He echoes, confused.

"I…Ekko asked me to help him with the finishing touches of his Z-Drive." The excuse is flimsy but 'Silco' buys it anyways. His touch lingers just for a little longer but he lets you go, gently pushing you towards the exit.

"Then you better get going, or the boy wonder is going to need to pull an all-nighter again."

You blink and then smile sadly at him. "Before…I forget. I want — I want to thank you." Grief bubbles to the surface again and you swallow hard. "For everything. Whether you know it or not, you — you've done so much for me. You mean the world to me, you're my everything and — and I don't know what I'd do without you, but I have to try. For your sake and mine. I can't just keep wallowing in despair, grieve as the world moves on around me, I have to move on, keep going one step at a time, because you'd want me to."

Tears prick the corners of your eyes and you whirl around, quickly fleeing as tears flow down your face freely, blurring your vision. You hear 'Silco' call out to you but his voice is muffled by the blood roaring in your ears and the pattering of your shoes against the ground as you run, run and run until you reach the lab.

Ekko and Heimerdinger turn to face you, concern written all over their faces as you harshly wipe away the tears, sniffing.

"So, what's the update?" Your voice wavers.

"Good news! The machine is ready!" Heimerdinger chirps.

"I see. Good thing I've laid the monsters to rest then." You take a deep breath, stepping into the machine with Ekko. "Time to go home."

As the machine comes to life, the arcane begins to whirl around you, howling. This is it, no more going back, no more running away, no more chasing the past. You watch as Heimerdinger connects the power cables, your limbs going numb as he disappears into thin air. Your alternate self's body and Ekko's appear on the floor, unconscious as Powder and 'Silco' run in, eyes wide.

You watch as 'Silco' hugs your alternate self's body to his chest, then looks up at your real body floating inside the sphere. Your gazes connect for the final time and you feel your heart ache. You want to reach out to him, feel his skin on yours one last time, taste his lips one last time, hold him one last time but you know you can't. Your Silco is gone, physically, and there's no bringing him back. So instead you mouth the words you've always wanted to say, trusting that your Silco will hear it anyways from wherever he is in the afterlife, if there even is one.

I love you.

And the arcane snaps everything to black.

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane season 2 #arcane season 2 act 2 spoilers #arcane season 2 spoilers #arcane silco #silco x reader #arcane season 2 episode 7 spoilers #arcane s2ep7 broke me #where do i claim my therapy reimbursement for arcane?#my little meow meow silco #silco angst #some fluff involved but mainly angst #i came only to serve angst in this fic

16 notes · View notes

the-devil-less-known · 15 hours ago

Text

Stars above, he couldn’t do this sober. As if taking another deep pull would save him anytime soon. Though, it does buy him some time to think about things other than Alastor’s near brush with second death… or Sir Pentious. Or Adam. Lucifer chokes, and blows the smoke upward, blinking up at the green ceiling, wryly he asks, “We both know this isn’t real fortune telling, and you mentioned before about the future being the best surprise. Do you really want me to say what your hand says about your fate?”

Setting down the glass heart, Lucifer makes to take Alastor’s hand, and notices a spot of gold on his finger welling up at the nick site. Huh. Looks like it was either deeper than it felt like or that tongue manuvear the resident cannibal just did teased it enough to bleed. Automatically, without thought, the fallen pokes the finger in his mouth, a drop landing on the lapel of his shirt, lightly sucking to clean it before pressing his tongue against the cut to stop the flow. A second passes and it’s closed, good as new, finger leaving his mouth as he waves it dry.

“All right, but just know I took a class on this! I am simply reading what the arbitrary lines on your physical hand would be intreperated as! And your hand is fuzzy.” Criminal. “After that, I’ll turn down the lights and the real show can begin.”

Bringing said fuzzy hand close, he squints at the faint line, tracing it’s path through the palm. Oi vey, this wasn’t a nice one to read. He hedges, “Uh. Well. You aren’t going to die in a week or another so dramatic but… hm.” His mouth thins, and he takes a deep breath through his nose.

“Deep line, a few breaks, touches your life line right here… You are strongly controlled by fate, prone to having your life made to change from external forces outside your control, and that last one… signifies a point where your own interests must be surrendered to the interests of another’s. But uh. These are just lines on a palm, nothing to really worry about. It’s all fun and games!”

And this was it. This was his personal Hell right here… He needed to find a new kind of party trick and stat. He fumbles to grab for the remote once more.

There are any number of protests he can voice in response to Lucifer's pseudo-reading of his palm, but he is all at once distracted. Not by the secondary reading that he is given which tells him much of what he already knows - he is a curious being at heart. And what he is curious about presently is the taste of the flesh that is being so teasingly dangled before him. He is quite the bear trap when he wants to be, teeth bared as he leans to snap at it without much regard for whether or not he catches one of those fingers at the same time. He does not think Lucifer to mind either way, tongue trailing over the tips of the other's digits to ensure he does not drop the tidbit before pulling it into his mouth and swallowing it without thinking very deeply about it.

But there is a taste of it- Something that distracts him from the remainder of what Lucifer is saying as he watches the continued reading. Something starkly bold that he cannot quite place that seems to warm his tongue considerably. But he picks up on the last word: Regrets. He has plenty of those, though he will pretend with vehemence that he does not.

"I think you're full of shit," he says coolly after a moment, though he's still not pulling his hand away as he hears the details regarding being injured...

And Alastor gives Lucifer a pointed look. His battle with Adam was broadcasted for all of the ring to see - thanks to Vox - and it is no secret that he took a rather violent blow from that holy axe. The wound in question pulses as he gives it more thought than it deserves and he takes another of his own hits from the smoke in his other hand to try and draw attention away from it.

"Considering I am not truly alive, perhaps it makes no sense in the context of a dead Sinner." That is the only way he can excuse it away.

It is about then that he notices that Lucifer is bleeding - his own pupils dilating at the realization and his stare fixated downwards. His hand is not removed from the other's hold. It seems Lucifer has paused before truly finishing. And while Alastor does not redirect his gaze from the sight of the blood that he can now scent - He still asks:

"What more? Is that it?"

Expectant. That couldn't be it.

#tough crowd #but alastor could use a bit of calling out #even if he doesn’t admit it and lucifer is mostly unwitting #i’ll leave it to you to say if those claws were making an encore of papercuts #§smoke break§#§radioiaci§#lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #roleplay #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin

32 notes · View notes

dreamscapeee222 · 9 hours ago

Note

HIII HII!! Could you do arcane characters with a reader who has sleep paralysis, I’ve been having it alot lately and I never see it represented online. Hope you’re well and THANK YOUUU IF YOU WRITE IT!! 😼😼

A/n: HEYHEY!! Most of us has experienced this before. Let's see how'd they react to it :3

You often experience sleep paralysis

Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

Masterlist

The first time you told Vi about your sleep paralysis, she leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her brows knitting together in that concerned way that softened her tough exterior.

“Damn,” she muttered. “That sounds rough.”

You expected her to brush it off—Vi wasn’t exactly the sentimental type—but instead, she stepped closer, her presence grounding. “Look,” she said, placing a hand on your shoulder, “whatever creepy nightmare’s got you stuck, I’m punching it for you, got it?”

Her words were simple, but they hit hard. She stayed close on nights she noticed you were more restless, sometimes dragging a chair to sit near your bed, her boots propped up on the frame. “You’re not alone,” she’d murmur if you stirred awake in a panic. “I’ve got you.”

And she did. Always.

Jinx

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jinx interrupted as you tried to explain. She waved her hands in the air, wide-eyed. “So you’re awake but can’t move? And it feels like… what? A ghost sitting on you? Ugh, creepy!”

Her reaction was… very Jinx. But she didn’t brush it off, either. If anything, she got hyper-fixated on trying to “fix” it for you. “Maybe I could rig up something! Like, an anti-nightmare zapper! Or, ooh, a thingy to, like, shake you awake if it happens again!”

When it actually happened, though—when you woke up frozen, your breath stuck in your chest—Jinx dropped the theatrics. She was by your side in a heartbeat, tilting her head to look at you. “Hey,” she whispered, her voice softer than usual. “It’s just your brain being weird, okay? You’re safe.”

She’d flop beside you on the bed, all limbs and warmth, her rambling distracting you from the lingering fear.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn’s reaction was measured, thoughtful. When you told her about your sleep paralysis, she listened intently, her hand resting lightly on yours. “That must be… terrifying,” she said, her voice steady but laced with empathy. “Thank you for telling me.”

And that wasn’t just a polite response. Caitlyn made it her mission to help you feel more at ease. She started researching remedies and techniques, from adjusting your bedtime routine to suggesting a dim, warm light for your room.

When you woke up from an episode, Caitlyn was always calm, always present. “You’re alright,” she’d say softly, brushing a hand over your hair. “It’s over now. Breathe with me.”

Her voice, her touch—everything about her presence felt like a safe harbor after a storm.

Ekko

Ekko didn’t need much explanation; he got it almost immediately. “I’ve had dreams like that,” he admitted, leaning back against the wall. “Feels like you’re drowning, right? Like you’re trapped.”

He wasn’t dismissive—far from it. Ekko offered to crash at your place whenever you were feeling particularly anxious. If an episode struck, he’d be there the second you could move again, a warm drink already in his hand.

“You’re tougher than you think,” he’d say, handing you the cup. “Next time, when it happens, remember this: it’s just a trick. It can’t hurt you.”

His words stuck with you, even in the moments when fear clawed at your chest.

Jayce

Jayce had trouble wrapping his head around it at first. “Wait, so… you’re awake, but your body’s stuck? That’s—man, that sounds awful.”

Despite his initial confusion, Jayce took it seriously. He started brainstorming ways to make your nights less stressful, even crafting little gadgets to help you feel safer—like a motion-sensitive light that filled your room with a soft glow.

“I know it’s not much,” he said sheepishly, setting it up by your bed. “But if it helps even a little…”

When an episode struck, Jayce would stay with you afterward, his big hands holding yours as he reassured you. “It’s over now,” he’d say, his voice warm and steady. “You’ve got this.”

Viktor

Viktor’s reaction was quiet but deeply understanding. “I can’t imagine how that feels,” he admitted, his golden eyes fixed on you. “But you’re not facing it alone anymore.”

He spent hours researching, piecing together theories and potential solutions. He even programmed a soothing audio loop for you—a soft blend of ambient sounds and his voice, designed to ground you if you woke up in the middle of an episode.

When it happened, Viktor’s presence was a lifeline. He’d sit close, his hand resting lightly on yours as his voice—calm and reassuring—filled the silence. “It’s alright,” he’d whisper. “You’re safe now. Just breathe.”

Mel

Mel’s reaction was one of quiet strength. “That must be terrifying,” she said, her voice steady but filled with empathy. “But you’re not alone in this.”

She encouraged you to talk about it whenever you needed to, her composure making it easier to open up. Mel also suggested small changes—like silk bedding or soft candlelight—to make your space feel more comforting.

When the paralysis struck, Mel was the first thing you saw once you could move again, her hand tracing slow circles over your back. “It’s over,” she’d murmur. “You’re safe. I’m here.”

Her unwavering presence was a comfort that lingered long after the fear subsided.

See pinned.

139 notes · View notes

inkykeiji · 7 months ago

Note

touya-nii is so jealous of everythingggg and you do such a good job writing it!!!! he also seems so needy >,<

aw hehe thank you so much!!! (ㅅ´ ˘ `) ♡ yes!! he is extremely jealous, extremely possessive, and extremely obsessive. this gives way to a peculiar type of clinginess; he needs to know where you are at all times, who you’re with, and when you’ll be returning. he wants all of your attention on HIM, yet he can be stingy with his own—he uses it as a currency for good (aka submissive/tightly controlled) behaviour: if you’re obedient, if you do as he says, he’ll reward you with attention in exchange. he uses it as an incentive, to entice you into complacency (which sometimes backfires, since your misbehaviour almost always garners his attention, even if it isn’t good attention). he can also be physically clingy, always needing a part of your body touching his; his hands on your waist or back or neck, your thigh slotted up against his own, tangled fingers a mess in his lap, etc. he just wants all of you, all the time—even when he tells you he doesn’t

#he isn't always as sly as he thinks he is #he seems to forget that *you* have lived with *him* for years upon years too #that you've had ample chance to study him as well #that you know all of his tricks and tells just as well as he knows yours #it makes for a very interesting and very difficult game of sorts between the two of you #he's so sillyyyyy #i hope ur having a good friday anon bb!!! <333 #pls enjoy ur weekend and stay safe!!!#adopted touya nii universe #inky.bb #clari gets mail

21 notes · View notes

laugtherhyena · 7 months ago

Note

Playlist listened to while writing; https://spotify.link/WzxvdTKBCJb

Holy shit dude, the ceo of rei angst wrote some rei angst what the HELL!! We have to kill her guys she cant keep getting away with this.

Anyways im gonna be writing about a lot of these nerds. I just love rei. This is really rushed and I am really sleepy so it is not my best writing.

Also i cannot write teruya so you will habe to ppppUT UP WITH IT.

Warnings for like. Violence and my attempt at writing a breakdown.

Rei held the rusty pipe like a baseball bat, swinging for a homerun as she smacked off the head of someone she once knew. Someone who had abandoned her long ago.

The rotting head of what used to be her mother rolled on the ground, sickly green skin squishing against the ground and stared up at her with lifeless eyes.

“I didn’t want to see you again like this,” Rei hissed as her chest heaved, “i wanted to see you staring with regret as you saw your daughter on top of the world. I didn’t want to kill you or see you dead.”

That had been the second time she had run into her zombified mother. The first, she had been a coward, unable to kill her and her father– the two people she hated most, the two people who had abandoned her and left her on the streets.

Where had all her rage gone that time. When had she become soft.

Midori clung to Ryutaro with all the strength in her frail body. “My brother,” she whispered, “i saw my brother’s corpse down there. Kakeru… he… they got Kakeru… they killed Kakeu…”

He didn’t say much in return, but he did pat her hand briefly– the only comforting action he could manage while carrying her.

“I see a store up ahead. Let’s stop by there for supplies.” Keisuke pointed out to the leader of the bunch.

Setsuka patted the clown on the back and gave him a smile. “Sounds good, lead the way. Maki, do you need me to carry Yamaguchi for a bit?”

Midori wrapped her arms and legs around Ryutaro a bit tighter at the suggestion, very much attached to the guy who had found her and saved her from zombies.

“I’ll be fine until we reach the stop.” The blonde nodded his acknowledgement to the bluenette, forcing a smile as he struggled to catch up.

The group walked in silence for a bit, the only sounds being the orchestra of distant zombie groans.

“Miss Yamaguchi,” Hikaru said after bit, his tone fatherly like usual, “may I check your pulse soon? And may I check if the swelling on your ankles has gone down?”

“Yeah, that… sounds good. Thank you, Uncle.”

Kanata removed the bandages from Ayame’s arm gradually.

“There isn’t any sign of infection, Hatano. Kinjo and Maki are still out, so… uhm… can I get you something to eat?” The surgeon spoke softly as she stared at the sprinter.

“I’m not hungry…” Ayame mumbled.

“Inori!” Tomori slammed the door open, her eyes sunken from lack of sleep, “i think i got bit. Check! Check, please!!”

Kanata bit back a sigh of exasperation and forced out her cheerful smile. “Of course. Where do you think you were bit this time?”

“My ankle. They went after my ankle so I couldn’t run! They’re going to eat me. I’m going to die, aren’t I? Oh, god, I’m going to die!” The cheerleader’s words were jumbled together and practically nonsensical. She grabbed onto Kanata’s shoulders as she spoke, her nails digging into the other’s lab coat and pressing her skin uncomfortably.

“Miss Tomori,” Kanata winced, “please let go of me. I will check your ankle, but I am sure you are fine.”

“I’m not fine!” Kizuna wailed before glaring accusatory daggers at Ayame. “If you… if you hadn't gotten yourself bitten! If you had just seen that bitch for what she is! We wouldnt be doomed! You’ve doomed us all!”

Ayame took the words without fighting back. What had been the point in fighting anymore? Kizuna was right. She had doomed them all.

“Miss Tomori, please… Taira had us all fooled… if Miss Hatano is to blame, then so are the rest of us…” the blonde murmured. “Please sit down so I can check your ankle…”

Mindless. Kinji was mindless. His faith had only been able to spare him for so long.

His teeth were decayed now. His skin was green and purple and yellow. His eyes were dull. His cheeks were sunken.

It was incredible that his mind stayed intact long enough for him to bury as many as he did. The only bodies he didn’t put 6 feet under, the only bodies he couldn’t handle burying, were those of the people he knew.

But what was the point?

Yuki held his stomach as he choked up and spat out the last meal he had, beans that had barelt even begun to digest.

“Urgh… gross…” he mumbled to himself.

Shinji was away at the moment, scouting out for the next safe place for them to go and likely trying to find his family in the process.

The lucky student fought back envious tears. At least they knew there was a chance that Shinji’s family was alive– they found his mother, Aiko, brutally murdered in the Maeda household. Her corpse was bloated and rotted when they found it.

The sight still haunted his dreams. He couldn’t even keep.meals down since he saw it.

Mikako peered into her brother’s lab. He hadn’t eaten in quite some time, nor had he slept.

“Yamato…” she whispered hesitantly.

He spun around with a dart ready in his hand. He only lowered it after he registered it was her.

“Mikako, I’ve told you to leave me alone. I need to find a cure, or no one will be safe.” The inventor turned back to his work and threw a crumpled up piece of paper to the side.

“I’m sure someone else is searching for a cure, Yamato. Why not try to make a vaccine? Some sort of immunity would help while someone else finds a cure.” The exorcist suggested.

Her brother didn’t seem to have heard. That, or he was ignoring her.

“Ah… nevermind.” She straightened her back and spun on her heel to hunt down their other classmates.

For the newcomers, Satsuki was putting on a performance– juggling empty bottles and broken gadgets whilst telling jokes. That could not be safe, but Haruhiko seemed to have his eyes on her.

The bunker door heaved open, and Teruya’s team came in, carrying boxes full of food and other supplies.

“We’re back with dinner!” The merchant shouted.

Mikako rushed over to take the box from him.

“Thank you, Otori, this should be good for at least a week. You and your scavenger team did good.”

He grinned at her and handed his box over. “Thanks! We uh…” he hesitated, “We saw Taira and Maeda… err… Utsuro? On our flight back… they looked like they were heading somewhere… dunno where…”

She bit her tongue and nodded thankfully at him. “Thank you for telling me.”

Thats it. Im hungry good bye.

Aw yeah infection Au moment! I do remember you saying a while back that you wanted to write something about Rei in this Au and MAN her part has gotta be my favorite out of these little snippets.

I really like taking a look at how a bunch of the cast is doing, seeing the way you wrote them in those situations was pretty fun! It reminded me how much i like the idea of Setsuka's like group with the 6.5 cast and how Kanata probably wishes she has a degree in psychology to properly deal with Ayame and Kizuna (she may feel as if she's not doing enough for them seing as her kindness can only bring her so far when dealing with their turmoil)

#i really like thinking about the voids + hibiki in this au too #i never explained this before because i wanted to draw something for it but oh well #basically at one point the voids (as in Nikei Hajime and Emma since Iroha has been zombified and ran away by now) steal some suplies from #Syobai's apocalypse mob. so he sends Kanade and Hibiki to “take care of them” for him #because Kanade has deal with Syobai where she's essentially works as his executor whenever he needs it #and in exchange he lets her take things rom his stocks when she pleases (she mainly takes weapons. the crazier the better)#and you know. Hibiki i in her puppet stage so she goes along #so the twins go after the voids in their mad max-esc apocalypse car and after a while Kanade manages to corner them #and Hibiki takes this opportunity to stab her in the back :) literally #because turns out Hibiki snapped out of her puppet stage at some point a while back. and seeing Kanades terrifying true nature #she wanted to put an end to her madness but for the time being she kept pretending to be under her control. because she wa looking for the #right opportunity to deal a killing blow without because Kanade is a better fighter than her #this opportunity turned out to be the voids! she explains the whole story to them and offers to do something for them to make up #for the hell Kanade and her put them through (chasing them around for several days and getting into fights)#so Hajime asks for her to hand over all of her supplies. Emma asks for the car. and Nikei asks her if she has any information about #a possible cure for the virus (because he feels somewhat guilty for what happened to Iroha) and Hibiki tells her she knows of a scientist #that's working on one and recives chemicals suplies from Syobai (because he wants this capitalize on this cure whenever it gets done)#So by Nikei's orders Hibiki tricks Mikado into giving her a stash of Kokoro's solution and goes with the voids in a search for Iroha #so that they can give her the prototype cure (which works just as a virus suppressant so far) before she reaches a stage where her mind is #too far gone. so overtime Hibiki essentially becomes a void member and she has friends again for the first time since forever #i like infection au Hibiki a lot. i had a sketch of her and Kanade somewhere i think #super danganronpa another 2 #danganronpa another #dra #sdra2 #zombie au #infection au #hyena ramblings

12 notes · View notes