matthiasxdc

[matthiasxdc]

They walked in silence for a few paces. The kind of silence that didn’t press for words but wrapped around them like fog — thick and hard to see through. Matthias stared ahead, jaw tight, hands deep in his jacket pockets, like maybe if he clenched them hard enough he could keep from saying what he knew was coming. “I think I already know,” he said, voice low but steady. His steps slowed, then stopped altogether. The sidewalk stretched out quiet around them, the night cold and still. He turned toward her, the woman he thought he’d never see again. The woman he once planned to build a future with. The woman he’d mourned. The woman he still hadn’t let go of. “The second I found out it was you... something in me just knew.” He let out a shaky breath. “I didn’t want to believe it, but I didn’t have to ask either. I know you. Or at least — I did. And the woman I knew wouldn’t have done something like that out of malice. Not without a reason. A real one.” He paused there, tension flickering at the edges of his expression. “I know my family too,” he added, softer now. “I know what they could be like when they were afraid. What they were willing to do if they thought they were protecting something. Or just keeping control.” His gaze dropped, then lifted again slowly. “If it had gone the other way — if you were the one who died and they were the reason — I don’t think I could’ve forgiven them. I really don’t. But with you…” His throat worked as if he might say more, but the words didn’t come right away. “With you, I think I can. Not yet. But... in time, I hope.” A beat passed. “I keep wondering if I could’ve stopped it. If I’d told them about you from the start — been honest with them, the way I was with you — maybe I could’ve convinced them to accept it. To accept you. Or maybe not. Maybe I’m just trying to convince myself of the impossible.” His jaw clenched again, something bitter pressing against the edge of his voice. “Not that it matters anymore. They’re gone.” He looked back at her then — his gaze sharp, but not cruel. Just clear. Honest. “So no, I’m not asking why you did it. I just… need to hear it from you. I need to know what happened, in your own words.”

Freyja pressed her lips into a thin line as she nodded at his words. She understood. She did. And as much as she wanted to talk to him, Freyja wasn't going to force him to speak to her. She did wonder, however, what the talk would be like. What he'd ask or what he'd want to know. If it would be... productive, in any way.

"Okay." She said, quietly, as she fell in step beside him on the sidewalk. Freyja wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to comfort herself as they walked next to one another. Her cheeks flared with heat, not meaning to. But it had been so long since she'd been near him. And being this close to him... well, it brought up memories of when they were closer, once.

"I... I don't know where to start." She admitted to him, her eyes shifting to look towards him. "What would you like to know or... to ask?"

[matthiasxdc]

Matthias had been nursing a whiskey at the bar, half-watching the game unfold with mild amusement. At first, it was almost painful to watch— miss after miss, like she’d never held a damn cue in her life. He wasn’t the only one cringing, the peanut gallery surrounding him were murmuring bets under their breath. And then she flipped the script. Shot after shot, clearing the table like she’d done it a hundred times before. He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. Classic hustle. Now, as she sat with a mountain of bar food in front of her, tearing into it like a starved wolf, Matthias couldn’t help himself. He slid into the booth across from her, smirking as he rested his forearms on the table. “You know,” he mused, “I’ve seen some solid cons in my time, but that was art.” He nodded toward her plate. “What’s the going rate for a lesson? Or is it just the poor suckers who pay up?” His tone was light, teasing— more entertained than anything else. Though, judging by the way she was inhaling that food, he made a mental note to keep his hands well out of reach.

Any old Bar, or the Heron Club if ya nasty

open: to all

There's a clap when the cueball strikes the stack, splitting the colored balls up and sending them all scattering across the green felt of the table. She misses her first shot. Third. Sixth. Tenth. She loses.

She's almost as short as the pool cue, and cuts a pretty pathetic figure as she leans on the thing like an old wizened man leaning on his staff as she watches her opponent rack the balls. With the speed of a whip-crack she reaches into her pocket, pulls out another fold of paper money and slaps it on top of the rail. "Double? C'mon man give me a shot to win my money back, rent's due."

Hook line sinker when they nod.

She watches the balls break apart, studies where they land. Her head does the math - always good at math, she's been.

Her go; she misses her first shot - it almost looks like her arms are too short. When her turn comes around again, though, there's another round of chuckles from the peanut gallery because it looks a little pitiful, the way she has to clamber onto the table like a damn tree-frog to line up a shot. But then she pulls the trigger. One ball in. Two on the next shot. Third, Fourth, Fifth. The cue ball hits seven in and it spins backwards, tipping six just over the edge.

The eight-ball is easy. Direct hit, side pocket.

Game set match.

After she bails on the table, she sidles into a booth with a plate of bar food financed by her ill-gotten gains - its a lot of food, and it looks comical in front of her as she starts wolfing it all down.

[matthiasxdc]

Matthias exhaled slowly, his breath visible in the cold night air. Did he want to? That was a loaded question— but talking was the only way to get answers, to stop carrying the weight of what happened like an open wound. At least he hoped. But the part of him that still ached hesitated. He glanced away, his jaw tightening. “I don’t know if I’ll ever feel ready,” he admitted, quieter now. “But if I keep waiting for that, it’s never gonna happen.” There was honesty in his words, a rare kind he didn’t offer easily. He hadn’t planned for this conversation, but fate—or whatever cruel force ran Port Leary—had thrown them together again. His hands flexed in his pockets before he nodded, more to himself than to her. “Yeah. Let’s talk.” His voice was steady, but something uncertain lingered beneath it. He gestured down the sidewalk. “Walk with me?” It felt easier that way— to move, to not face everything head-on all at once.

Freyja hummed and nodded in agreement. It was a small town. Although, she was a bit surprised to see Matthias walking around so late. She wanted to ask him questions. To see how he was doing. To see what was causing him to be up and not sleeping. Not only that, but she wanted to know what his life had been like after she... after she ruined it. But she kept her mouth closed, knowing that bombarding him with questions would only make things worse between them.

When he said her name, her stomach flipped; heat pressing against her cheeks and she was suddenly glad that they were standing in the dark with only small amounts of light so that he couldn't see the way she reacted to it.

"I... I mean, I think we should talk but do you even want to, Matthias?" Freyja asked, her voice cracking slightly. She didn't want to force him. She didn't want him to feel like he had to because they'd run into each other again. "I want to talk to you. So bad. But I don't want you to feel like you have to if you're not ready."

[matthiasxdc]

Dylan O’Brien photographed by Cathlin Mccullough for The Wrap at The Wrap Studio during the Sundance Film Festival in Park City, Utah. (January 24, 2025)

📷©: thewrap.com

[matthiasxdc]

Matthias hadn’t expected to be stopped—not that he was in a rush to be anywhere. He’d been walking with no real destination, just letting the night air settle the static in his head, when suddenly: Hi, sorry, hi… He blinked, taking in the girl in front of him. Bright-eyed, a little breathless, and—judging by the way her words tumbled out in a near panic—very, very lost. His hands stayed in his jacket pockets, head tilting slightly as he listened. The offer of a hotdog—singular, possibly halved—almost made him laugh. Almost. Instead, he let out a short breath, more amused exhale than anything. “You’re really willing to put your last meal on the line for directions, huh?” Matthias glanced around, taking in their surroundings. No river in sight. If she was looking for the ports, she’d gone way off track. "Alright, Olivia," he said, shifting his weight slightly. “Lucky for you, I know where we are. And luckier still, I don’t plan on mugging you in exchange for your single, pity-offered hotdog.” He smirked, dry but not unkind. "C’mon, I’ll point you the right way." A pause, then—because something about the way she carried herself set off a quiet something in his head—he added, “You new new here? Or just bad at directions?”

Who: Open Where: Random Port Liery street, just past dusk.

Alright, first step in the road to recovery is acceptance. She was lost. Like, really lost. Olivia had just finished walking the last dog of the day and it was dark and she had absolutely no idea where she was. 'Just follow the river down to the ports', yeah, great idea, Olivia, now where the hell is the river???

Thankfully she was still a couple of weeks from the full moon so she didn't have to worry about outing herself in the middle of the street, but it was still scary. Olivia couldn't tell exactly if what she heard about vampires was real or if it was her new friends trying to mess with her, but as it turned out she was a real, living, breathing werewolf so she didn't want to bet against it.

She stood in a random corner looking at every direction, none of which looked familiar, before she decided she wasn't getting out of that without help. She tried to take a couple of whiffs to see if she recognized any other Warwick wolves in the area but to no avail. The city smells were too strong. So, there was only one option left.

Stranger danger it is.

"Hi, sorry, hi, I'm Olivia," she stopped the first person to walk by that didn't look like they were immediately threatening — though she was an extremely poor judge of character. "I know this is annoying and I'm sorry, but I'm new here and I- I'm a little lost. If you could help be get to the ports I'd be eternally grateful, and maybe get you a couple of hotdogs in return." Right, no money. "One hotdog". Right, no dinner at home. "...We can share a hotdog."

[matthiasxdc]

Matthias let out a short, breathy laugh, more exhale than sound. "That supposed to be an invitation or a warning?" His head tilted slightly, eyes catching the subtle edge in her words. The way she’d said it—calm, casual—like she was testing the waters. Seeing what stuck. He didn't react outright, didn't shift like someone caught in the act. Just stayed where he was, weight even, hands still buried in his pockets. The whole vampire thing—that was an assumption he’d heard before, one people made when they couldn’t pin him down. And maybe in another life, with the way he moved, the way he carried himself, it would’ve fit. But he wasn’t one of them. "Not my thing," he said after a pause, his voice as even as his stance. "But I’ll keep that in mind, in case I run into someone who’s looking." He didn't mean it as a threat, but he didn't go out of his way to soften it, either. His gaze flicked to the cameras she’d pointed out, then back to her, considering. The way she carried herself—poised, deliberate—she wasn’t just some intern burning the midnight oil. Not just a student pulling long hours. People like that didn’t make offers with double meanings, didn’t stand in alleyways seeing how deep they could dig. "So what’s your thing, then?" He nodded slightly toward the building. "This? The endless work, the late nights? Sounds like a hell of a way to spend your time." He wasn't prying, not exactly. Just mirroring the energy, seeing what she’d give back.

        just you. there still isn’t an obvious threat that results from their careful examinations of him, stepping from the shadows. he seems plain, and too smart to be lurking in alley shadows of this city. and, even worse, he’s right, of course, but it’s just how it works. there’s no use complaining when they asked for this, fully educated on the workload. none of this, vera has any intention of admitting. perky, put together intern persona doesn’t badmouth the law office.  “ i prefer it, it works with my schedule. you know, school in the day, work at night. i’ll sleep when i’m dead. ”  she finishes with a flourish of a smile, their voice fluctuating enough to be playful, and honest. it’s not much of a performance, but that’s never been where vera’s interests lie. subtlety is much more delicious.  “ besides, there’s always work to be done. ”

        from watching him, they gather he is hiding from something, even if it isn’t her. even further, vera weighs the odds that they align with the same, second, secret world tucked beneath this city. his scent doesn’t provide her with anything, and in this light, they can’t see his hand. the casuality he seems to carry can’t be their only evidence, so they push a little further.  “ it’s not that you’re in my way. ”  i won’t hurt you, yet.  “ if you take two steps to the left, i won’t be able to see you, anymore, on the cameras. ”  they turn on their heels, a slow enough rotation to announce their consideration of him. there’s a soft, insinuating tilt of their head.  “ in case you get hungry. ”  it’s not that they truly believe he is, over the past two years, finding who is and who isn’t a vampire comes to them has become a bit of a scientific, repeated process. none of these things stand out in him. she figures the comment is enough to spur a reaction from him, either way.

[matthiasxdc]

Matthias fell into step beside her, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket as they walked. The cool air helped shake off some of the lingering tension in his chest, the quiet stretch of street a welcome contrast to the noise still buzzing in his head. “Seven minutes, huh? You timing us?” he quipped, side-eyeing her with the ghost of a smirk. He wasn’t in the mood for heavy conversation, and thankfully, Morgan wasn’t the type to push. His gaze flicked toward her briefly, considering something before speaking again. “Retrocity’s got a good thing going,” he admitted. “Not a lot of places like that—feels… solid, you know? Like you actually give a shit about it.” It wasn’t something he said lightly. Most people he knew either ran from things or burned them down, metaphorically or otherwise. But Morgan had built something worth holding onto. Maybe that was why it was so easy to trust her, why he didn’t mind following her lead tonight. He exhaled, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off whatever thought had just crossed his mind. “Anyway,” he said, nodding ahead. “Lead the way. I’ll try not to get us lost.”

"When you're build out of pixels, you're surprisingly durable," Morgan chuckles. Once it seems Matthias' tension was diffused, she nods again, glad to have rescued another cabinet from an all too common fate.

Normally, he's right, she wouldn't step out like this. But things are going well (all things considered) and she trusts her team like Kevin and Mylo to keep an eye on the arcade. Hell, the more she thinks about it, all the trouble that happens to her happens in the arcade -- maybe if she leaves for a bit, the trouble will go looking for her elsewhere (or leave her alone entirely). Besides, a friendly beer couldn't hurt anyone -- so long as that's all it was.

"Don't worry about it, Matthias. We all have those days. Good to know your limits," she says, offering him a smile. Morgan takes just a moment to put away the project she was working on and give her assistant manager a quick heads up before stepping out the front of the arcade onto Baliol Street. It's a cool, crisp afternoon, verging on evening, and she knows a place not far from here. In fact, it's the bar she usually directs folks to when they're disappointed to find out that Retrocity is an entirely sober sort of place.

"It's a seven minute walk, quiet little dive. C'mon."

[matthiasxdc]

Matthias hadn’t planned on being here tonight. Infamy was the kind of place he usually steered clear of—not because he had anything against it, but because the noise, the lights, the sheer energy of the place tended to wear on him faster than he liked. But someone had talked him into it, something about “touching grass” and “being a functional member of society,” and, well… here he was. Perched at the bar, he nursed a whiskey neat, watching the spectacle unfold from a comfortable distance. The performances were impressive, the crowd lively, and the cause was solid. He could appreciate all of that without needing to be in the thick of it. When the woman beside him spoke, he glanced her way, taking in the easy humor in her voice. His lips twitched in something that wasn’t quite a smile, but close enough. “Sounds like a solid theory,” he said, his voice carrying its usual dry edge. “Can’t say I’d blame them. Crowd like this, someone’s bound to get a little too into it.” He took a slow sip of his drink before answering her question. “Nah, don’t know anyone performing. Just here for… moral support, I guess.” He shrugged, a little amused at how out of place he must seem. “You?”

closed starter for @matthiasxdc where/when: the infamy charity drag event

There is plenty of energy here to go around -- especially for those who ae a little more on the quiet side of the celebration. Dani is here for myriad reasons. Community support is her biggest, as it directly relates not only to her values at work, but her personal ones as well. Institutions like Infamy are essential to the vibrant diversity of Port Leiry, no matter the species. But there's an element of keeping face here as well -- given the stresses of the coven and Jac's current... predicament. Though she doubts her sister would fare much better in this environment if she were awake right now.

Thankfully, her cousin Jen has been effective at redirecting the advances and eventual disappointment of the several lesbians who have approached Dani, each apologized to profusely. At some point, she dismisses herself for another drink and is somewhat... comforted in seeing another young man who is content to stay back while the performers and partiers bring the literal and proverbial heat to the energetic club. Dani catches the bartender's attention and asks for a cherry Coke and rum, then turns to the stranger sitting nearby.

"Gotta pace myself, you know? They pour really strong here and I have a sneaking suspicion they're hoping to make an extra dancer or two out of someone drunk enough," she says with a laugh. "Do you know someone performing tonight?"

[matthiasxdc]

Eden’s Apple

Eden’s Apple : How in touch with their sexuality is your muse? Are they adventurous or more hesitant when it comes to pleasure?

Matthias is somewhat in touch with his sexuality, but it’s complicated by his emotional baggage and guarded nature. He’s not shy or inexperienced, and his confidence often shows in the way he carries himself. However, his deeper fears of vulnerability and connection can make him hesitant to fully let go or explore intimacy on a deeper level. In casual situations, Matthias has a dry charm and an easygoing nature that can make him seem more adventurous than he truly is. He’s not opposed to spontaneity or experimenting, but there’s always a part of him that holds back, keeping people at a safe emotional distance. Trust is the biggest factor for him—if he feels truly safe with someone, he’s much more willing to explore and embrace his desires. Once he lets his walls down, Matthias is attentive, passionate, and deeply invested in his partner’s pleasure. He values connection over fleeting gratification and prefers intimacy that feels meaningful, even if it’s lighthearted or playful in the moment. Though he might not actively seek out adventurous experiences, he’s not opposed to them if they come with someone he genuinely trusts and cares for.

[matthiasxdc]

Pretorius- How does your muse feel about following the rules? Are there any particular rules/principles they live their life by?

Matthias has a complicated relationship with rules. He recognizes the necessity of structure in certain situations—especially in his line of work as a hunter, where discipline and order can mean the difference between life and death. However, he’s not one to blindly follow authority or adhere to rules that don’t align with his own moral compass. If he thinks a rule is arbitrary, unfair, or harmful, he won’t hesitate to bend or outright break it. His own principles are what guide him more than any external set of rules. Loyalty, honesty, and protecting those who can’t protect themselves are values he holds close, even when they conflict with conventional expectations. Matthias believes in doing what’s right, even if it’s not easy—or legal. That said, he’s not reckless. He’s pragmatic enough to understand when playing by the rules is the smarter option, especially if it avoids unnecessary conflict. But his rebellious streak kicks in the moment he feels someone is being oppressed, manipulated, or taken advantage of. In those moments, rules are nothing more than obstacles, and Matthias is more than willing to break them to do what he believes is right. At his core, Matthias lives by a personal code of honor: protect the people who matter to you, stay true to your word, and don’t let fear dictate your choices. Those principles shape his decisions far more than any societal expectations ever could.

[matthiasxdc]

💞

Send a 💞 for a headcanon about my muses favourite place

Matthias’s favorite place isn’t flashy or grand—it’s quiet, unassuming, and entirely his. There’s a small clearing in the woods just outside Port Leiry, tucked far enough away from the beaten paths that it feels like his own secret hideout. The trees form a natural canopy overhead, and at night, the stars peek through the branches just enough to make it feel otherworldly. It’s the one place where Matthias can let his guard down, away from the noise, danger, and weight of his responsibilities. He goes there to clear his head, to escape the constant churn of his thoughts. Sometimes he brings a book or his guitar, finding solace in the simplicity of being alone with something he enjoys. Other times, he just sits there, listening to the wind rustling through the leaves or the distant sounds of wildlife. The clearing is also a place where he feels connected to his family. He’s carved small marks into one of the trees—a way to leave behind pieces of himself without saying too much. It’s his quiet tribute to the life he’s lost, and though it’s bittersweet, it gives him a sense of peace he struggles to find elsewhere. For Matthias, the clearing represents freedom, reflection, and the faint hope that he might one day feel whole again. It’s a place that feels safe, even when nothing else does.

[matthiasxdc]

What makes your muse angry?

Matthias’s anger often stems from a deep sense of injustice, betrayal, or helplessness. He has a strong protective instinct, so seeing someone vulnerable being hurt, manipulated, or taken advantage of is a surefire way to ignite his temper. He’s especially sensitive to situations that remind him of his own losses or failures to protect the people he cared about. Betrayal cuts the deepest for Matthias. After discovering his ex-girlfriend’s role in his family’s deaths, his trust in others became fragile. Being lied to, manipulated, or used is one of the quickest ways to set him off. It’s not just the betrayal itself—it’s the way it reopens old wounds and makes him question his judgment. He’s also frustrated by his own limitations. Matthias is a perfectionist at heart, and when he feels like he’s failed or can’t fix a situation, that frustration often manifests as anger—directed at himself as much as the world around him. On a smaller scale, Matthias has little patience for arrogance, cruelty, or people who act without considering the consequences of their actions. His anger is rarely explosive unless pushed to a breaking point; it’s more of a simmering intensity, a quiet sharpness in his words or actions that lets people know they’ve crossed a line. Ultimately, Matthias’s anger is rooted in his desire to protect and his fear of losing more than he already has. It’s a defense mechanism as much as it is an expression of his pain, and while he tries to keep it in check, it’s always close to the surface when the things he cares about are threatened.

[matthiasxdc]

Matthias didn’t call her out on the quick deflection, but he sure as hell noticed it. He’d done the same thing enough times himself—glossing over a mess with small talk, hoping no one would look too close. Still, he let the thread of conversation play out, nodding slightly. “Yeah? New York’s got that kind of energy. Fast, loud, everyone trying to make something of themselves.” His tone was easy, like they were just two people swapping music scene stories and not standing in the aftermath of whatever had just happened here. His eyes flicked back to her, not lingering too long. When she mentioned the crowds, he gave a slow nod. “Yeah, I get that.” And he did. There was something about too many people in one place, too much noise pressing in, that could make your own skin feel like a cage. “Good spot to step away for a bit, I guess,” he added, glancing around the dimly lit bathroom. The hint of humor in his voice was light but not dismissive. He didn’t push, didn’t pry, but there was an unspoken understanding in the way he lingered just long enough to let her decide if she wanted an out or just the space to breathe. “You wanna head back out, or you need another minute?” He kept his voice even, his stance relaxed. No pressure, no expectations—just giving her the choice.

"No, no. All good -" She starts when he starts and tries to look somewhat normal. Her smile fades a bit, but only because she's unsure how to approach this - "Hah, yeah - I like that. The 'figuring themselves out' thing. There were a bunch of dives in New York, bands trying to make it." She takes a deep breath, "Kinda reminds me of that feel a bit."

The music scene here compared to the East coast, though -- wildly different.

Her gaze flickers down to the crack she'd left, and he hopes to whatever higher being there is that he hadn't noticed and won't comment on it. She doesn't know how to explain that away, and with the recent killings, she doesn't know if she's going to run into someone who'd rather separate her head from her body.

"Uh, no. I'm fine - all good. Just crowds is all, fucks with my head sometimes."

[matthiasxdc]

🔮

🔮 for a headcanon about what my muse thinks their future looks like

Matthias doesn’t spend much time imagining his future—or at least, not in the traditional sense. He’s spent so long surviving, carrying the weight of his past, that thinking ahead feels like a luxury he doesn’t deserve. He often assumes his story will end the way so many hunters’ do—sacrificing himself in the line of duty, protecting others from the darkness he knows too well. There’s a quiet resignation in him, a belief that his future will be shaped by loss and danger, not stability or happiness. But in his heart of hearts, Matthias dreams of having a family. It’s a hope he barely allows himself to acknowledge, buried deep beneath his guarded exterior. Despite everything he’s lost, or maybe because of it, he craves the kind of love, stability, and belonging that only a family can bring. The idea of building something meaningful with someone—something lasting—calls to him, even if it feels impossibly out of reach. If he lets himself dream, his future is simple: a quiet home, surrounded by people he loves and trusts, and a chance to leave the pain of his past behind. Yet, that hope is a double-edged sword. It scares him as much as it comforts him, because he doesn’t know if he’s capable of holding onto something so good—or if the life he leads will even allow it.

[matthiasxdc]

Matthias hadn’t been expecting to see her again, at least not like this. The cold night air nipped at his face, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket as he walked without a real destination. When he heard her voice, he stopped, his steps halting like an unspoken question had been thrown into the space between them. For a moment, he didn’t respond, his gaze searching hers in the dim glow of the streetlights. There was no immediate anger, no accusation—just a quiet intensity as he considered what to say. The months had dulled the raw edges of his emotions, but they hadn’t erased them. He was still trying to piece it all together, to figure out what he even wanted from this. From her. “Yeah,” he said finally, his voice low but steady. “Guess not.” He glanced away briefly, the corner of his mouth twitching in what might’ve been a dry smile—or maybe just an attempt at one. “Small town, huh? Hard to go anywhere without running into someone.” The weight of the moment wasn’t lost on him, and he could feel the tension settling into his chest. But he didn’t walk away this time. Instead, he shifted his stance, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly as he looked back at her. “Freyja,” he started, the name carrying more weight than he intended. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as if trying to untangle his thoughts. “Look, I—this isn’t exactly how I pictured… talking to you again. But maybe we should. Talk, I mean.” There it was. An olive branch, tentative but real. For all his confusion and lingering hurt, he couldn’t deny that part of him still wanted answers—and maybe even a way forward, whatever that might look like.

closed starter for @matthiasxdc

Tugging her jacket around her, Freyja continued to walk the streets of the town. It was late at night but she wasn't necessarily worried of people bothering her. She'd tried to sleep earlier but had tossed and turned until she knew it was useless trying any longer. Ever since her run in with her ex, she was riddled with anxiety and stress. And if that wasn't already bad, the fact that her magic hadn't even woken up in her body from it made it worse.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she lifted her gaze, noticing him. Again. Yes, Port Leiry was a small town, but she hadn't expected to run into him again. To see him, out at night. "Hi." Freyja said quietly, although, she wasn't quite sure what else to say. "Couldn't sleep either?"

[matthiasxdc]

What's your muse like as a lover/partner?

Matthias as a lover or partner is a mix of contradictions—intensely loyal but deeply guarded, affectionate yet hesitant to fully open up. His past trauma makes him cautious in relationships, often second-guessing his worth or his ability to give someone what they deserve. However, once he lets someone in, he’s fiercely protective and willing to go to great lengths to make them feel cared for, even if he struggles to express his emotions outright. He’s the kind of partner who shows his love in actions rather than words—small gestures like remembering how they take their coffee, fixing something they didn’t even notice was broken, or staying up late to make sure they’re okay. His dry humor and sarcastic quips can be endearing, but they’re also a defense mechanism to mask his deeper vulnerabilities. Matthias craves connection but fears losing it, so he can be slow to trust or commit. However, he values honesty and loyalty above all else. If his partner proves they’re in it for the long haul, they’ll see a softer, more tender side of him—a man who wants to build something real, even if he’s still learning how to let go of his ghosts.

[matthiasxdc]

🎈

🎈 for a headcanon about my muses past

Matthias’s past is a tapestry of heartbreak and resilience, defined by tragedy but also by the strength he’s had to find within himself to keep going. He grew up in a close-knit family, where he learned the importance of loyalty and love early on. Those bonds made the loss of his family all the more devastating when they were taken from him. The night of their deaths—the night he discovered his ex-girlfriend’s role in the tragedy—shattered the foundation of everything he thought he knew. It left him drowning in guilt, betrayal, and anger, emotions he’s carried ever since. Before the tragedy, Matthias had a knack for fixing things—whether it was a broken engine or someone’s bad mood. He was the guy people could count on, a protector by nature. Losing his family turned that protectiveness into a sense of obligation, fueling his role as a hunter. It’s his way of making sure no one else experiences what he did, even if it means sacrificing pieces of himself along the way. Matthias has always had a sharp wit and a streak of rebellion, traits that helped him survive his early years as a hunter. Those qualities also mask a deep well of vulnerability, one he rarely shows. He keeps people at arm’s length because letting them in feels like an invitation for more heartbreak, but he quietly longs for the kind of connection he once had with his family. His past shaped him into someone who’s both fiercely independent and quietly haunted. While he carries a lot of pain, it’s also what drives his determination to fight for something better, even if he’s not sure he’ll ever truly find it for himself.