#kid M.R

[found-moss-cult-lost]

I LOVE MOSS

Can

Can I ave some

[M.R was holding a child] mmm if I give you moss then chaos will...happen....meh I don't give a shit [throws some moss at them] Have fun!

[heavenlybodies333]

Virgin Fucking Mary - M.R.

she told you she’s celibate, but she told me I can rail her shit

Theo had been your best friend since before either of you could properly walk, a bond that never wavered, even as you grew older and Hogwarts became your shared stomping ground. Your friendship was simple, easy—even if he did have a habit of oversharing details of his sex life that you could really, really do without.

You were sitting with Theo, Enzo, and Blaise at the Slytherin table, picking at your food while Theo recounted—far too enthusiastically, might you add—his latest escapade.

"Mate, I swear, I had her begging—"

"Merlin, Theo," you groaned, stabbing a piece of fruit with your fork. "Honestly, I don’t know why you put yourself in these positions when you know you're leading these girls on."

Theo just grinned, unbothered. “Can’t help it, darling. You know how they get when I—”

"You ever try talking to these girls first? Or is it straight to sticking your dicks down their throats?" Before you could roll your eyes, a presence dropped into the seat beside you. The scent of smoke and something inherently masculine curled around you, the unmistakable cologne of Mattheo Riddle invading your senses.

"What's this, then?" His voice was low, amused as he reached over, stealing a chip off your plate. "You giving Nott a lecture on morality, princess?"

You exhaled sharply through your nose, refusing to turn toward him. “Just asking if you whores ever have a conversation with a girl instead of thinking with your—” his hand reached over your plate once again, taking another chip.

"Now, where’s the fun in that?" he mused, popping it into his mouth.

You rolled your eyes, refusing to engage. "Of course you would say that, Riddle."

Theo let out a loud, amused groan, smacking the table. "Alright, alright, calm down, Thou Holy Virgin Mary"

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

Blaise shook his head, laughed under his breath. Enzo snorted into his drink.

But Mattheo—Mattheo—practically collapsed against the table, laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his seat. "No fucking way," he wheezed, pressing a hand to his chest as he recovered.

Your cheeks burned. The heat spread down your neck, prickling against your skin, but you refused to let it show.

"You lot are laughing at me," you huffed, tossing your fork onto your plate, "but at least I don’t have to worry about pushing a fucking kid out of me anytime soon."

Mattheo snorted, his amusement shifting into something more smug. "Yeah, okay, princess," he drawled, leaning into your space. His voice was low, teasing, but his eyes were sharp, glinting with something dark. "No wonder you’re so uptight. Explains why you’re such a bitch."

That pissed you off.

You turned to him slowly, eyes narrowing, expression carefully composed despite the way anger coiled hot in your gut. The others had already lost interest, falling back into their own conversations.

“Oh, I’ll have you know, Riddle,” you said, voice low, syrupy-sweet. “A girl can take matters into her own hands.”

Mattheo blinked. Just once.

You didn’t wait for a response. You stood smoothly, grabbing your book bag, and just for good measure, you leaned down just enough to let your lips ghost near his ear.

"You’d be surprised what I can do without a man."

And then? You walked away. Swaying your hips. Feeling his eyes burn into your back.

By the time you reached the door, you dared one last glance over your shoulder.

And there it was.

Mattheo, still seated, still staring, his expression caught somewhere between surprised and fuck, I’m turned on.

It was late, the library was completely empty with the exception of those in the moving portraits keeping you company. Most students had long since gone to bed, leaving only a dim glow of candlelight flickering between the shelves.

And you weren’t stupid. You had felt it.

The shift in the air. The way the back of your neck tingled. The weight of a stare burning between your shoulder blades.

You knew it was him.

Still, you pretended not to notice. You turned the page of your book, eyes trained on the words, until—

“Taking matters into your own hands, huh?”

His voice was low. Smooth. Dark with something predatory.

You didn’t jump. Didn’t react. Just hummed, dragging your gaze lazily up to where he stood.

Mattheo leaned against the bookshelf, arms crossed, dark curls falling into his eyes.

You raised a brow. “Something you need?”

His lips curved. “I think you know exactly what I need.”

A slow heat curled in your stomach. You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “What, Riddle? A book? Help with your homework?”

Your breath hitched as he stepped closer, caging you against the table. His hands found the wood, fingers curling against it as he leaned down—so close you could feel his breath against your cheek.

You refused to look up. Refused to acknowledge the warmth pooling low in your stomach.

But Mattheo? He knew.

“I’ve got a better idea,” he murmured.

His fingers brushed your thigh.

You swallowed hard. “And what’s that?”

Mattheo tilted his head, eyes flickering between yours and your mouth.

“You can show me,” he murmured. “How you take matters into your own hands.”

He saw the way your fingers twitched against the table. The way your lips parted just slightly, as if debating whether to let yourself fall or run. And, like the smug bastard he was, he waited.

“Nothing to say?” he mused, his breath brushing the side of your jaw. His fingers drummed against the wood, lazy, slow. “Funny. You had plenty to say at lunch.”

The heat between you was unbearable. His knee pressed between your legs, just enough to send a spike of need through you, but not enough to satisfy the ache building low in your stomach.

Mattheo saw.

Felt it.

And then—he pushed deeper.

“I bet you like it,” he murmured, dragging his nose along the curve of your jaw. “Being the good little princess. The one no one can touch. The one no one fucks.”

Your breath hitched.

“Bet you get yourself off thinking about it, don’t you?” His lips brushed just against your ear. “How desperate they’d be to ruin you?”

You clenched your teeth, refusing to give him the reaction he wanted.

He saw it anyway.

Felt the way your body betrayed you, thighs squeezing around the knee he’d wedged between them, the pulse of your breath, the heat rolling off you in waves.

Mattheo hummed, pleased.

Then, before you could react, his hand slid under your skirt.

You gasped. “Mattheo—”

But he wasn’t listening.

“I mean, let’s be honest, yeah?” His knuckles brushed the inside of your thigh. “A girl can take matters into her own hands, sure—but it’s not the same, is it?”

He leaned in, lips barely brushing your ear. dragging his fingers higher, pressing against the damp fabric of your underwear.

“Look at that,” he mused. "Virgin Mary isn’t so innocent after all."

Your fingers curled against the table. "I will kill you."

He just laughed, dark and low. "Yeah? You gonna do it with my fingers in your cunt, or after I fuck you stupid?"

Your brain short-circuited.

Mattheo used your stunned silence to his advantage, slipping his fingers beneath your underwear, dragging them through the slick pooling between your thighs.

"Fuck, Mattheo—"

He hums, watching your face, the way your lips part, the way your brows pull together in pleasure.

"You’re soaked," he smirks. "Thought you didn’t like me."

"I don’t like you," you pant, back arching as his fingers move faster, working you open, leaving you breathless.

He laughs. "Sure, princess."

He pulls his fingers out, and you whimper at the loss, at the emptiness. But then he’s undoing his belt, pushing his slacks down just enough, and your stomach tightens at the sight of him—thick, hard, leaking at the tip.

Mattheo catches your gaze, smirking. "You’re staring."

You roll your eyes, even as you hook your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Are you gonna talk all night, or are you gonna—fuck—"

Because he’s already sliding inside, pushing into you inch by inch, stretching you open in the most devastating way.

"Shit," he groans, hands gripping your thighs. "So fucking tight."

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, head falling back as he fills you completely. You feel everything—the way he pulses inside you, the way his breath stutters against your neck, the way he’s holding himself back, barely resisting the urge to ruin you.

"Mattheo," you whisper. "Deeper, please—"

Something in him snaps.

His grip tightens, and then he’s fucking you—hard, deep, brutal. Every thrust shoves you harder against the wall, knocking the breath from your lungs. You cling to him, nails raking down his back, thighs trembling.

"That what you want?" he rasps, snapping his hips forward, making you cry out. "You want me to fuck you deeper?"

You can’t answer. Can’t think. All you can do is take it, take him, let him fuck you so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat.

"Should’ve known," he mutters, biting down against your shoulder. "All that attitude—just a needy little slut underneath, huh?"

You whimper, gasping his name, digging your heels into his lower back, urging him closer, deeper.

Mattheo groans, pulling back just enough to look at you—your lips swollen, your pupils blown wide, your expression absolutely wrecked.

"Fuck," he mutters. "You look so good like this. Bet Theo would kill me if he knew."

You’re too far gone to care.

"Don’t stop," you plead, voice breaking.

He doesn’t.

He fucks you through it, fucks you until you’re falling apart around him, nails dragging down his spine, thighs squeezing tight around his waist as your orgasm rips through you.

"You feel that?" His voice was wrecked, panting, his forehead dropping against your shoulder as he buried himself inside you. "That’s what it’s like when a real man fucks you, sweetheart."

Mattheo groans at the feeling, his pace stuttering, his grip bruising. And then he’s spilling inside you, breathless and wrecked, pressing his forehead against yours as he cums, his thrusts erratic as they slowed.

You were still catching your breath, skirt bunched around your waist, Mattheo’s hands gripping your thighs with a possessive kind of desperation. As he finally pulled out, breath heavy against your ear. A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned back, taking in the sight of you—disheveled, marked up, and absolutely wrecked beneath him.

His fingers brushed over your thigh before he whispered, “Was that your first?” His voice was dripping with smugness, already assuming he knew the answer. “Did you like it?”

You tilted your head up at him, amusement flickering in your eyes. Oh, Mattheo…

“Do you really think I’d lose my virginity to you?” you mused, voice laced with sweet mockery as you reached for your skirt, slipping it back on with slow, deliberate movements. You adjusted it, smoothing out the creases, completely unfazed by the way his expression darkened.

Mattheo’s smirk faltered. “What?”

His expression shifted—something sharp, something dark. "What the fuck does that mean?"

You grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder with an easy smirk. "It means, sweetheart," you said, voice dripping with faux sympathy, "that you really should have a chat with Theo sometime."

His brows furrowed, confusion flickering before realization settled in like a slow-burning fire.

"Oh," you mused, tapping your chin like you were deep in thought. "You don’t know about him, do you? About how he doesn't really get the whole 'kiss and don’t tell' thing?"

You slung your bag over your shoulder, taking your time fixing your hair in the reflection of a nearby window. turning to face him, "I don’t kiss and tell—but unfortunately for you, Theo definitely does." you said sweetly.

His brows furrowed. "Theo—what the fuck are you talking about?"

You leaned in, just close enough that he could smell the faint hint of perfume on your skin, the remnants of whatever sin you two had just committed. "Ask him about me sometime," you murmured, a smirk playing at the edges of your lips. "I’m sure he’d love to share the details."

You turned to leave, but not before tossing one last dagger straight at his ego. “Oh, and Mattheo?” You glanced over your shoulder, giving him one last look-over. "Next time, try lasting longer."

Then you walked out, leaving him alone in the dim glow of the library—jaw tight, fists clenched, drowning in the bitter aftertaste of his own ego—because for once in his life, Mattheo Riddle wasn’t the one doing the ruining.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

a/n: slut me out

here’s part 2 for you whores

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅ: @ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ

MASTERLIST

[kisses4themissus]

Just A Fool | M.R X Reader

a/n: happy mothers day y'all...why not celebrate mother's day with some cuteness...and angst.. pairing: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Single Mom!Reader wc: 5.2k (idk I blinked and it was at 5k)

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Chatter and clicking of plates and cups filled the restaurant.

“So?” Robby began, glancing over to Lacey then to you beside her. “How did you not know she’s mine?” You asked, confused how he had assumed she was your niece. “I wasn’t thinking, does anyone else know?” he asked, glancing over to see Lacey already staring at him.

“I thought everyone knew i was a mom, lovebug stop staring at him.” You said, patting lacey’s hand on the table.

“He looks like the guy from josh’s game!” Lacey realized after staring intently at robby. “If having a kid turns you away then– what did you say?” you turned to lacey who sat next to you smiling at robby.

“He looks like the army guy!” She laughed, before turning to robby, sitting up on her knees. “My mommy likes his face hair.” She told Robby, who chuckled and titled his head. “Army guy?” Robby questioned.

“She thinks you look like a call of duty character.” You explained, chuckling to yourself. 

With a shocked expression, Robby stared at Lacey for a bit before turning to you. “She plays call of duty?” he asked, shocked as the little girl began to nod proudly.

You laughed and shook your head. “Her older cousins play but they let her get on the mic to talk shit.” You explained, looking over to see Lacey searching for her restaurant crayon. 

Robby nodded at the explanation. “I’ve dated a single mom before, she had a son…his name is jake.” Robby spoke softly as he watched you recognize the name.

“The boy who lost his girlfriend at pittfest?” You questioned, earning a slow nod from robby.

“He told me that he had gone to a therapist and said that it didn’t help but when he went to the hospital, he ran into someone..” Robby hinted, making you nod.

“I know the grief he’s going through, told him I wished Adamson was here so I could give him a proper apology.” you told robby, running your hand over the back of lovebug’s head 

There was a beat of silence before Robby asked.

“Was the person you lost her dad?” Robby motioned for lovebug who was too busy following the little maze on her place setting to listen to the adults.

You shook your head. “I wish he was her dad, he would’ve been a great one.” You sighed, looking down at the little girl. Robby saw the look of sadness and backed off the topic. 

Feeling eyes on her, Lacey looked up and saw both you and robby staring at her. “What?” She asked, looking a bit upset. “Got a problem?” She asked, raising her crayon to point at robby and you.

Robby chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “I haven’t said anything.” 

Lacey sighed and nodded before flipping her place mat to face Robby, handing him a yellow crayon. She tapped the paper and pointed to her little tic tac toe board where she had placed a big X in the middle.

Glancing over you took in a deep breath and looked at robby with a smile. “Good luck, she’s good at those..” You sighed, picking up your drink.

Robby had begun to play with Lacey, at first letting her win but slowly grew to be competitive as she managed to trap him each time before running her red crayon over a line of hidden X’s. He leaned across the table and looked at Lacey in a mix of shock and awe.

“How do you keep doing that?” He laughed as Lacey shrugged before turning to you.

“How much longer, I'm hungry!” She dragged out her letters, flopping over on your shoulder.

You laughed and rubbed her head. “I’m not sure lovebug, we’re not the only people in here eating.” You explained, motioning towards the other booths and tables.

She sighed and placed her hands under her chin as she sat back down. She looked out the window before sighing once more, a bit more dramatic.

Both you and robby exchanged a look.

“Why does your family all call her that?” Robby asked, earning a laugh from you.

“Before I found out I was pregnant, I claimed I had a really terrible stomach bug, that’s why I was always tired, vomiting, and grumpy. So when I took a test and it was positive my brothers teased me by saying I had a lovebug in my stomach.” You explained.

Robby chuckled and nodded. “She’s more of a bedbug though!” You teased, tickling her sides. 

“Stop it mommy!” She laughed, wiggling from you.

You let her go and smiled as she sighed and moved back to her part of the booth, leaning over the table, Lacey looked at robby.

“Dr. robby. what’s your favorite color?” She asked, tapping the table with her pink painted nails. Robby chuckled and pretended to think.

“Blue.” He answered, earning a nod from lovebug.

“I like blue, my favorite is green.” She smiled at the doctor. 

“How was rat practice?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink, watching as Lacey perked up.

“Great, me and the older kids said on opening night we should do WWE rats, and– and I'd be the flying rat off the couch!” She explained, her eyes bright as she said her plan. You and Robby laughed.

“And the boys agreed?” You asked, laughing into your cup.

“Yep, Jason said to do it!” She nodded, waiting for you to finish your drink before asking for a sip.

Robby’s heart warmed as he watched you and Lacey across from him.

Lacey happily drank the lemonade, streaks of the drink on the sides of her mouth, she sighed and wiped it away with the back of her hand.

“Here honey.” Robby handed the little girl his napkin, smiling warmly as she nodded and wiped her face and arm. “Thanks dr. robby!” She grinned.

“You just call me robby.” His heart grew as you laughed.

“But you’re a doctor!” Lovebug tried to reason. “Like when mommy isn’t nice, I call her dr. mommy.” She explained before taking gulps of more lemonade.

“What’s your favorite food lacey?” Robby asked, making the little girl stop her gulps, she let out a deep gasp before answering.

“I like cheesy noodles!” She explained, making Robby tilt his head in confusion. 

“Fettuccine alfredo.” You clarified, lacey nodding in agreement. She turned to your purse and searched through it. Leaving you and robby to your own conversation.

 - - - - - - - -

Leaving the restaurant, you attempted to carry lacey who looked around the street, her sugar rush going crazy.

Robby noticed the look on your face as Lacey chattered and attempted to climb around you and quickly stepped in.

“C’mon monkey.” He took lacey and held her up. You smiled at the two. Lacey settled down a bit as Robby placed her on the ground before giving her a piggyback ride.

“Sure, your old man back won’t give out?” You teased, earning a laugh from robby; the fluttering in your stomach resumed. “I can’t guarantee it.” he joked, following as you walked to your car down the street.

As you passed an ice cream parlor, you took a deep breath and waited.

“Ooh, can we stop!” Lacey squealed, making you chuckle. Robby glanced at you with a grin. 

“It is nice to have dessert after dinner.” Robby teased, making you sighed before nodding at the pair, who cheered and walked inside. As the tired employee greets you three, staring at the ice cream flavors you turned to ask what everyone was getting only to see a sight that’d melt your heart.

Robby had moved Lacey to be in his arms, nodding as she pointed out different flavors she had liked the sound of. You felt red as robby’s free hand fell to your lower back and guided you to the counter.

“We’ll take a waffle cone with, what did you say you wanted honey?” Robby asked, looking at Lacey who sat comfortable in his arms.

“Cotton candy!” She squealed, making robby chuckle and nod at the employee before turning to you.

“What do you want?” he asked, not noticing how flustered you were. “Um- can i get a brownie sundae please.” You ordered, your face feeling overwhelmingly warm.

The employee nodded and typed something on the register screen. “And one fudge sundae.” Robby finished, removing his hand from your back to get his wallet out of his back pocket. 

“Hold this honey.” Robby told Lacey who nodded and held his leather wallet as he got out a twenty. At the same time you had pulled up your digital wallet on your phone.

You and robby looked at each other, robby looked almost offended as you attempted to pay. “Put that away, I'm treating you girls.” He playfully scolded you, making you nervously chuckle, nodding as you turned your phone off, letting him hand over the bill.

“Could you get the change for me, Lacey's shoe is falling off.” He asked, not waiting for a response, walking over to a booth and sat lacey down before helping the little girl with her Mary Jane shoes.

“Cute family.” The employee smiled at you, handing the change over.

You stuttered to get the words out. “Thanks..” You smiled and quickly walked over to the two.

After you and robby had shared your sundaes with each other, you three continued the way to your car.

As you unlocked the back door and loaded Lacey in, she sighed and whined. 

“What’s wrong babybug?” You asked, running a hand on her leg, trying to sooth her. “I don’t want dr. robby to leave!” She sighed, looking at Robby with puppy eyes. “Please come home with me and mommy!” She pleaded. 

You sighed at her. “Eat your ice cream before it melts some more!” You pointed to the waffle cone, she followed your finger and quickly jumped up to start eating it.

Both you and robby chuckled, softly shutting the door. You turned to robby and looked around the parking lot to see a few cars.

“Which is yours?” You asked, finally looking at him who smiled at you. “I walked.” He shrugged, watching as your eyes widened. “What?!” You scoffed at him. “And I thought carrying lovebug would’ve taken your back out..” You lightly laughed.

He nodded and motioned for you to get in the car. 

“You can’t be serious, I'm not gonna drive off and leave you to walk back to your apartment michael..” You said, noticing the flushed look on robby’s face. “What did you call me?” He asked, a sly grin growing.

You recalled your words and froze at the slip up. “Robby…I meant robby!” You attempted to cover. He nodded and grinned. “Nice cover slick.” 

“Are you getting in the passenger or what?” You asked, turning to the driver’s seat.

Robby laughed and nodded, opening the driver's door for you before running to the passenger side.

 - - - - - - - -

Somehow lacey had managed to convince you and robby to go back to your own apartment, robby agreed on staying till lovebug had passed out.

Unlocking the door, you sighed and smiled as Lacey ran into the living room and threw herself at the couch. Robby stayed at the doorway and admired the apartment, hanging plants in every corner of the rooms, a small kitchen and living room, two doors on each side of the apartment; easily you could tell which was Lacey's the colored construction paper and stickers stuck on the white door.

You kicked off your shoes and walked to your kitchen, opening the fridge to grab a cold water bottle, you turned to robby and offered one. “No thanks, nice place.” He nodded and looked around.

“Thank you.” You smiled, walking around the kitchen and poured the water into a bottle with cartoon characters before going to the couch and handing Lacey the plastic cup, “drink it for me please!” You smiled as the little girl began to chug it down.

She hopped onto the sofa, and patted the spot next to her for robby to sit, you sat on the opposite side of lacey and picked up the remote.

“Movie or bluey?” You asked lovebug who paused before looking at robby then back at you. “Movie since dr. Robby hasn't seen bluey!” She sighed, motioning for you to pick a movie out. 

Robby chuckled as she slouched down, and watched as you scrolled through movies, waiting for someone to pick.

“OH ALADDIN!” Lacey popped up from the couch and pointed at the screen. You hovered over the disney movie and turned to see Robby watching with a smile as Lacey bounced around, waiting.

He glanced at you and nodded.

It had barely gotten half way through when Lacey's sugar high hit, causing her to crash on the carpet in front of the hung tv. “She looks like a bug that’s been squished.” Robby chuckled, leaning over as you got up and prepared yourself to pick her up.

“Oh that’s because she’s tired from her long day, normally she’s fighting off demons.” You joked, you picked up the half full water bottle and placed it on the table to the side of the sofa.

Robby got up from the couch and carefully scooped up lovebug and looked at you. 

Too busy staring at robby’s broad shoulders you hadn’t noticed him gently shushing Lacey as she whined in her sleep, gently patting her back. Snapping back, you led robby to her room and watched as robby sat her down gently, you walked over and settled her in.

Robby smiled at Lacey's room; fairy lights were strung up across the room’s ceiling, painted stars on the walls, he looked back and blushed; It had felt oddly right to be domestic with you.

With a forehead kiss, you backed away from Lacey's room, turning on her fairy lights before leaving the room with robby.

Robby quietly shut her room door, noticing as you walked to your kitchen to clean up. 

He sighed and walked over to you. “I’ll be taking my leave now.” He smiled as you turned to him, two wine glasses in hand. “So soon?” You grinned, placing the glasses down on the island before turning to an upper cabinet and pulled out a bottle of wine.

Robby chuckled and sighed, looking down. “Alright, you got me.” He shook his head and walked further into the kitchen as you popped open the bottle. 

Robby took it gently from your hands and began pouring some into the glasses.

You scoffed at the amount. “Give me that, stop trying to be cheap with it!” You both laughed, taking the bottle from his hands.

He watched as you poured more wine into the glasses.

“Trying to wine and dine me?” He asked, a sly grin on his face as you froze in place.

“...possibly..” You looked at him quickly before taking a long sip of the wine. “I mean, I'm not opposed.” he told you before taking a drink. Feeling flushed, you watched as he drank more. “If you think you can stay quiet then absolutely..” You shrugged, placing down your glass.

There was a beat before both you and robby leaned into each other and let your lips touch, it was exciting, your stomach curled in as he reached to cup your face, bring you deeper into the kiss.

You pulled away first, smiling as he followed your lips. Placing your hands on his chest you motioned to your bedroom. Robby smiled and picked you up, cupping your bottom as he carried you to the bedroom, shutting the door and locking it behind you both.

 - - - - - - - -

Waking up to the smell of food was unusual for robby. He looked up from where he laid, all the memories of the night before rushed back, the late night chat with you.

He grinned and got up, putting on his clothes from the day before. Opening the door he saw you in the kitchen, humming to yourself as you made coffee and prepared something. Walking over he stopped at the kitchen island, smiled as you turned and grinned at him.

“Morning robby..” You said a bit shyly. He chuckled and walked over you, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Good morning, sleep well?” He asked, you closed your eyes and leaned your head against him. “Be quiet!” You giggled.

Robby had begun to help you make sandwiches, he raised an eyebrow as he placed another into a zip lock bag. “What are these for?” He asked, slightly confused.

You chuckled as you finished another sandwich. “Every other weekend, I get lacey all dressed up and cutesy and we go have a picnic.” You explained.

“That’s sweet.” Robby smiled.

As you both talked about your date, Lacey's door swung open to show a tired and crazy haired lacey. Her pajamas all messed up, one pant leg was hoisted up by her knee while the other was on the ground, her shirt was now backwards.

She walked out and rubbed her eyes as she yawned, she dragged over a stepping stool and hopped onto a stool nearby to sit down.

Robby quietly chuckled at the sight while you smiled and walked over to your crazy little girl. “You ready for our picnic?” You asked, earning a nod from her.

“Is dr. Robby coming with?” She asked, quietly. You looked over your shoulder and shrugged. You leaned in and shrugged at you. “I think you should ask him.” Your words made her light up.

“Do you want to go with us dr. robby?” Lacey asked, sitting up looking at robby with her puppy dog eyes once more.

He sighed and nodded. “I’d love to!” He grinned. With an answer lacey nodded and motioned for you to help her down.

Lacey ran off to your bathroom to brush her teeth and her hair. Leaving you and robby alone again.

Robby looked down at his clothes before nodding to himself, with a deep breath he walked over to you and leaned in. “I need to go back to my place, I need an outfit for the picnic with you lovely ladies.” He grinned as you got flustered and nodded, robby leaned in and kissed your cheek before leaving your apartment, out walked lacey, toothbrush in her mouth, her comb stuck in her hair as she looked around and shrugged at you. 

“Where’s dr. robby?” She mumbled, making you giggle before walking over and guided her back to the bathroom. “He went home to change, just like we need to change you into your dress.”

 - - - - - - - -

Robby had sent you a text about a park he knew that had good shade and a playground to take lacey to. You had agreed to meet there, packing up the picnic basket, a big enough blanket and getting lacey into the car; thankfully you had gotten there peacefully and quickly.

You carried the basket while Lacey insisted she carried the blanket, she walked through the grass, smiling as little kids ran past and towards the big playground. You had spotted robby across the park and walked with lacey over to him.

“Hi Michael!” Lacey yelled, making Robby turn and smile widely at you both.

You laughed and looked at lacey. “How do you know his name?” You asked, the little girl shrugged.

“After ice cream you called him michael.” She explained, running over as Robby knelt down to her height.

“Look at how pretty your dress is!” Robby smiled and spun her around, making her skirt fan out.

She laughed and sighed as he stopped and turned to you, his cheeks tinting pink.

You stood before him in a matching dress with lacey, a basket in hand and a warm smile on your face made his heart palpitate. “You look wonderful too!” He told you, taking the basket from your arm as lacey attempted to lay the blanket out.

“Thanks robby!” You smiled, helping lacey before sitting down on the blanket. Turning back to him, you chuckled as robby stood still, watching over you both.

“Come sit.” You patted the spot next you, robby nodded and with a groan sat down, placing the basket to the side. 

Lovebug began to buzz on her knees as kids ran past laughing, she turned to you.

Without having to ask you nodded at her and watched as she zoomed to the playground. “She could hardly wait.” Robby laughed, his arm going around your waist. You watched with a smile as Lacey joined a group of kids easily and began to play.

“I didn’t get to tell you but you look very nice as well.” You complimented, turning your head to robby who was looking over his shoulder. “I don’t look as good as you in that dress though.” He winked, making you both chuckle.

TIme had passed, you and robby had ended up cuddled together under the tree, watching as Lacey played with other kids, talking about anything and everything. 

You sighed and turned to look at robby, he had opened up about his struggle with adamson’s death then jake and his fallout. Your mouth frowned as you opened your mouth.

“Her dad’s name is nicholas callahan..” you started, earning a look from robby as you opened up. “He was my ballet partner, he and my ex boyfriend were best friends, everyone at the studio was surprised to find out that me and him had begun dating rather than me dating nick.” You looked down at your palms, not meeting robby’s gaze.

“When everything had happened, Nick comforted me...I was a fool, he took advantage  of my grief and convinced me to sleep with him; he said it’d take the weight off..” You sighed, feeling Robby's grip tightening on your waist in anger at Lacey's father.

“When I realized I was pregnant and went to tell him…he had left for Scotland, saying he didn’t want to be stuck in one place; I told my mom I wanted to quit ballet and the reason why.” You finally looked up to see Robby's eyes of remorse.

“That dick..” Robby muttered under his breath.

“He’s only seen lovebug a few times, she knows who he is, what he does for work; and how rarely she sees him.” You began to tear up. “My ex’s family knows about the whole thing, they adore lacey.” You chuckle, looking up to see robby looking distracted behind you. 

“She really likes you y’know.” You added, noticing the far off look in robby’s eyes but brushed it off.

He absentmindedly agreed, a pain struck your heart at his actions. 

You looked over to see lacey on the monkey bars, playing chicken with another little girl. As you turned back to robby, you saw him with his phone out, typing quickly.

“Is something wrong?” You asked, robby sighed and got up from the blanket. “I need to deal with something but you and Lacey have a good picnic.” He gave a peck on your lips before giving a quick smile before running to the other side of the park, leaving you alone on the gingham blanket.

Calling lacey over you had pulled out the sandwiches and ate as lacey talked your ear off about her new friends, part of your mind listened while the other half wondered why robby left urgently.

 - - - - - - - -

Going back to the hospital after spending the weekend with robby was lonely, no help with lacey’s questions of medical things she’d hear you both talking about.

As you scanned your badge into the ICU a mix of night shift and day shift all stood together around the nurses station, watching you with wide grins. You ignored them and placed your things down before going to log into a computer.

The night doctor stared at you before sighing and walking over to your desk. “So, how was your weekend?” She asked, smiling down at you.

You chuckled as you scrolled through files from the night before. “It was good, took lovebug to the park, got into a fight at my parents studio oh and made cookies!” You listed before turning to see the pile of workers.

“You forgot your date with dr. robby!” She giggled, making your face drop. 

“What? How did you know about that?” You asked, standing up, your face feeling warm. She quickly pulled out her phone and showed you a photo.

It was of you and robby at the coffee shop, both smiling at each other almost looking like a couple, it was clearly taken across the street.

“We met up for coffee…so what?” You asked bashfully, glancing back down at your new lockscreen. She laughed and leaned against the desks. “So what? You got your biggest hater to go on a date with you!” She laughed and began to clap at you.

You quickly stopped her. “Can we stop talking about my love life in front of all the patients, please?” You asked, gesturing to the open room doors.

She sighed and waved you off. “Most are intubated or probably want to hear something other than a depressing diagnosis.” She insisted; making you sigh.

“Fine, it was a date, he may have also stayed the weekend at my place..” You smirked shyly. 

A bunch of squeals and gasps came from the ICU workers. “Are you dating?” One of the respiratory nurses asked, grinning widely. You sighed and tilted your head to think. “Umm– I’m not too sure, he hasn’t officially said..” Your words made everyone stop and stare at you.

“And he stayed over?” The night doctor asked once more, making you nod.

Quickly the excitement disbursed. “I knew he was a player..” One of them sighed, shaking their head.

“What do you mean?” you asked, watching as the ICU workers began to pick off some post it notes off the fridge, groaning at each one.

“Do I have to tell her?” The nurse sighed, earning a nod from the others. She sighed and walked over to you and rubbed your arm as she sat you down.

“There’s rumors of dr. robby dating dr. Collins and for a while the rumor was dead but… lately all the other departments have been talking about them,” She sighed, your stomach tightened before releasing. 

“Apparently, one of the girls in CT saw them snuggled up together just this past weekend at the park by that one deli shop..” She finished, watching for your reaction.

The park…the park he had suggested for you, Lacey and him go for your picnic, the park where he kissed you at–.

You sighed and shook your head. 

“Their exes so what, maybe he needs closure..” You tried to excuse, your stomach began to sink as you thought about it some more. “I need to go get some fresh air..” You quickly got up from your chair and exited the ICU.

As you passed through the pitt, you were stopped by Langdon and McKay who both smiled widely at you. “Wanna place a bet?” Langdon asked, making you look at him confused.

“What kind?” You sighed, looking around for robby, but failed.

“Rumor has it, Robby's got a girlfriend, and I'd place a bet quickly if I were you..” Langdon smiled, you froze and shook your head. “No thanks, left my wallet upstairs anyways.., hey where’s robby?” You asked, turning to mckay who shrugged and glanced around the ED.

“No ones seen him since he got in.” Dana replied, sighing as she placed her hands on her hips.

You nodded and excused yourself to go to the ambulance bay, as you stepped outside by the bush you sighed and closed your eyes.

As the feeling of bile rising slowly washed away laughter caught your attention.

Opening your eyes you froze as you saw robby with Collins by her car; both laughing together. The bile quickly rose up as you saw the look of love in robby’s eyes.

Finally leaning over, preparing as the bile rose to your throat. Looking up for a final time to see robby rubbing over Collins stomach before cupping her face with a longing look.

The EMTs nearby jumped into action as you vomited into the bush. 

One held your hair back. “Are you alright?” She asked, you nodded and took a shakily breath before wiping your mouth. “Peachy..” You sighed, watching robby and collins off in their own world.

You stood up before walking back into the ED, rushing to the nearest bathroom. Thankfully being a single stall, you locked the door and bent over the sink.

Once again you had been taken as a fool; thinking a man would love you with no bad intention; was him being sweet to lacey just to get you to sleep with him faster.

Sighing, you glanced in the bathroom’s mirror and fixed the stray hairs as tears began to form. Silently crying as you perfected yourself.

Rolling back your shoulders you sighed and wiped away the tears. You stared at yourself before walking back out. As you exited the bathroom, Langdon laughed and shook you by your shoulders. “I won the bet, I knew him and Collins were together again!” He laughed.

You looked over to where the group of ED workers all cheered for the pair.

Among the workers, robby found your eyes, watching as they went from lovingly to sharp. He went to excuse himself but you had been faster as you slipped to the staff elevators with a blank expression.

 - - - - - - - -

The ICU had noticed the subtle shift of your personality; it was only seen on your worst days.

Everyone had quietly spoken about it. You had been snippy with any ED call, denying any bed space and allowing any OR patients the bed first. 

While on a cafeteria run, you walked through the ED, ignoring the gaze stuck on your back.

As you passed a curtained room, someone calling your name made you stop. You turned and opened the curtain and begged for your day to be over or to keel over and be bedridden.

“Nick..” You sighed, fixing the end of your jacket, feeling insecure around him; Nick the man your whole family hated, the man your heart still had affection for, Lacey's father.

He sighed at the sight of you.

“You still look pretty as always.” he smiled, admiring as you looked around the room. “What are you here for?” You asked, avoiding his gaze.

“Got trampled by some folks during a fire drill.” He explained, smirking at you. “Are you my doctor?” He smiled charmingly at you.

As you opened your mouth to speak the curtain was pulled back to show robby, collins and santos.

You saw robby and shut your mouth before turning to nick. “I got bumped upstairs, better patients and doctors.” You told him, using santos as a shield from robby walking closer to you. 

“These will be your doctors, dr. Collins, dr. santos and…dr. robinavitch.” You motioned to the three, seeing robby’s hurt expression from the corner of your eye.

“You still have my number right, let me see you and lovebug this weekend?” He asked, you turned and noticed robby’s furrowed brows at the patient.

“My apartment’s still the same.” You told Nick before walking to the elevators, leaving Robby to brew in his anger.

next pt!!

robby taglist!! @nerdgirljen @whatdoesntkillyoumakesyoustrange @evans-dejong @lovebuggyies @snowflames-world @whimsicalfungiforager @itschelseacisneros @kmc1989 @foolishseven @rhysology @delicatetrashtree @equallyshaw @qardasngan @fallout-girl219 @dantemorenatalie @18lkpeters @ohmystrawberrycheesecake @blackblueberries @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @isla-finke-blog @baileythepenguin

[hezekiahwakely]

Jon when he kept getting turned around in season 4 and couldn't find the epicenter of the tunnels

Having a normal time reading House of Leaves (read: I am losing my marbles flipping through these pages upon pages of architectural digressions, trying to glean some meaning from them) when my eye caught on something.

ENHANCE

FLIP

ROBERT SMIRKE MENTION

[therobbycuepitt]

Robby comforting an emotionally sensitive reader who is just super overwhelmed by everything?

Warmth - M.R.

A/N: not proofread! I have no excuse for how long this took anon im sorry 🫠

Michael saw you breaking, the very moment your eyes started to go vacant in the break room holding a now cold cup of coffee—he knew he needed to step in. His steps were slow and quiet, clearing his throat to catch your attention, your tired eyes refocus and meet his with a small smile on your lips but the energy absent.

"Want to switch that with tea? I'm making myself one, s'better to share," he offered, nodding his head to the mug you lightly held. You smile and pushed the cup towards him on the table, he grabs it without a word and dumps its dark contents in the sink before washing the residue. A small sigh leaves your lips, rolling your aching shoulders once trying to relieve the tenseness but the constant buzzing in your head doesn't stop. Michael leans against the counter, arms crossed waiting for the water to boil in the kettle.

From your peripheral you can feel his eyes on you, but your eyes stayed glued to your hands clasped together on the table. The kettle lets out loud bubbling sounds and stops after the red light switch turns off. You watch Michael open one of the cupboards and reach at the back to bring out a worn box of saltines, you eye him curiously. He pulls out two individually wrapped packets and shakes them like sugar packets, "Raspberry okay? I like a little tang." You smile and nod, getting up to grab another mug for him but he stops you midway and points to the paper cups at the other end of the counter. You follow suit and grab two, grabbing some sugar packets and offer him one. He declines and passes you your steeping tea and put your sugar in, mixing it in with a wooden stirrer.

"Lets get some air, kid."

You follow him aimlessly, trying to keep pace with his long legs holding your cup steady with two hands relishing the warmth it provides. You both enter the elevator and he pushes the button that leads to the roof. The crisp air of early spring whizzes between you and the fresh air lightens your senses looking up at the amber sky. Robby leans on the railing taking a few sips of his tea while looking at the skyline.

"I'm sorry... about earlier. I-I got too overwhelmed at-at everything. It won't happen again," you stammer, thinking back at your last patient who had been very combative and loud. Robby had pulled you out of the room and took your patient when he saw you struggling to ask necessary questions to treat them.

"I know you can handle those types of situations, kid. But sometimes asking for help is okay. You know that, right?" he assures dipping his head a little lower to catch your eye. Your nod your head offering him a small smile with understanding. He smiles at you softly bumping his shoulder with yours which makes you chuckle.

"Besides, if Whitaker was left there by himself I'm almost one hundred percent sure Housekeeping would be cleaning up bodily fluids off the walls again." That earns a loud chuckle from you imagining the med student and all of his recent misfortunes, you're surprised and deeply impressed he hasn't been admitted to the ED despite his experiences.

"Look, this place gets loud and rowdy—almost gladiator arena-like. Nobody's going to judge you for taking a minute to yourself. You are not weak for asking for help. It's rough some days around here, but we can all lean on each other so no one falls," he reassures you. His arm comes around your shoulders to give you a quick side hug and your eyes start to sting. You blink your eyes rapidly and sniff.

"Thanks, Robby."

"Of course, take a few more minutes here. I'm gonna head back down there before the whole place burns down," he pats your shoulder one last time before disappearing to the elevators.

[riddlemelater]

Last Call - M.R (Part 2)

masterlist | nav | part 1

⚠︎ all characters 18+ | MDNI ⚠︎

warnings: alcohol use/dependency, mentions of war, death, depiction of injury/blood, dark themes, post-war vibes, implied trauma. etc.

w.c: 3.8k

summary: Mattheo Riddle was sharp, charming, and haunted. Now he’s just a shadow at the bar—drunk, quiet, unraveling. You don’t know why you care. Maybe it’s who he used to be. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you like he doesn’t expect kindness anymore. But one things certain: you won't turn your back on him, not like the rest of the world already has.

a/n: SURPRISE! Turns out I'm too excited to hold back. Thank you to all you lovely people who've reblogged and left your comments on part 1. I hope you're all ready to lock in... <3

feedback, reblogs, likes + comments are so greatly appreciated <3

"Say, Albion?" you asked curiously, eyes fixed on the far corner of the pub where a familiar group of elderly wizards sat. "Who's the one over there with the bushy brows? What's his name again?" Your head nodded over in their direction.

"Old Silas?" Albion huffed, glancing between the group and you as he dried a glass. You nodded as his eyes narrowed in thought, watching the man for a moment as if trying to place him.

"Silas Wimbly's his name. A Ravenclaw, if I remember correctly. Bit of a toff, came from old money. Parent's spoiled him rotten too, always sent him these massive parcels of sweets— And it was the good stuff, mind you. Liquorice Wands, Pepper Imps. You name it, old Silas had it." Albion shook his head dismissively, scratching at his chin. "Why d'ya ask, love?"

You shrugged, feigning disinterest. "No reason. Just curious s'all."

Albion's eyes settled on you, watching as you wiped over the bar for the third time in ten minutes. Pretending not to feel his gaze burning between your shoulder blades as you worked.

`'Hang on a minute. This isn't about that Riddle lad again—is it?" He asked in an accusatory voice. "I told you before not to go getting mixed up with him." His arms folded across his chest disapprovingly, head canting to the side as you avoided his gaze.

Albion was giving you his sternest Dad look. The older man had taken on a sort of father role when you'd first started here. With no children of his own, the pub was all he had, and as old age was beginning to catch up with him, he'd had no choice but to hire someone else. It'd just so happened that you, freshly out of Hogwarts, a year late due to the war, had been job hunting at the time.

He'd agreed to take you on, temporarily, until you worked out what was next and he'd found someone to train up to take his place. But that had never really happened, and instead, he'd trained you as his assistant of sorts. The plan had never been to stay long, but it seemed that life had other plans for you both. You didn't want to go back into education, and Albion didn't want to find someone new. It was as simple as that.

But now the look Albion was giving you worked all too well, and you sighed and let go of the rag you'd been cleaning with, turning to look at him guiltily.

"I just can't stop thinking about him. It's been three weeks Albs, what if—"

Albion shook his head fiercely, a hand gripping onto your shoulder to steady you. He bent slightly to meet your eyes, and as he did, that familiar pressure began to coil in your chest—guilt and worry rising fast, impossible to swallow.

"What if he's perfectly alright, hmm? Did you think of that?" He said softly, "Listen, I won't pretend I'm fond of the boy, Salazar forgive me. But you're the only family I've got, kid. If it really means that much to you, I'll ask around— Alright?"

Your eyes met his, noting the crooked smile and warm look on his face. Gratitude began to swell in your eyes and you surged forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders thankfully.

"Thank you Albion," you murmured quietly into his shoulder, squeezing tightly. "You have no idea how grateful I am."

Albion chuckled, wrapping an arm around you and patting your back gently. Your cheeks warmed slightly as you pulled away from him, and he fixed you with a serious look once more.

"Look, you don't get far in my line of work without knowing where to ask." he said, and a smile spread across your lips. "I can't promise anything, but I'll do my best. And in the mean time, you just worry about pouring pints." He patted your arm encouragingly and winked.

You nodded feeling like a weight had been lifted from you. As if just knowing that you were doing something, anything, to find out where Mattheo had disappeared to, magically made things better.

The days trickled by, slow and uneventful. You were antsy, constantly fumbling for a task to distract you. You were showing up even earlier than normal, and you didn't leave till Albion himself was heading upstairs to his flat above the pub.

You didn’t ask for updates, mostly because you were too afraid of what he might say. But every time the bell above the door chimed, some part of you still hoped it would be him. Mattheo. Bleary-eyed, mumbling some half-arsed excuse, dark curls a mess from wherever he'd vanished to.

But it never was. And you were beginning to worry once more.

It was nearly a week later, just after last call, when Albion finally said your name the way someone does when they don’t want to be heard. There was a scarce few customers in, mostly nursing dregs of Dragon Barrel Brandy or Odgen's Firewhiskey. Quiet enough that no one would bat an eyelid at a hushed conversation.

You glanced up from the taps, anxious and expectant. But his expression was already answer enough.

"I asked everywhere I could think to ask,” he said, voice low, reluctant. “Nothing. No one's seen him." Albion frowned, placing a hand on your arm. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to let you down but it's like he's gone off the grid."

You swallowed, staring down at the bar blankly. "It's okay." you nodded, "Thanks for trying anyway, Albs."

Your voice wavered slightly, Albion didn't mention it, but you knew he heard it too. He'd just sighed wearily, the way old men do, and tried to soothe you quietly.

"He'll turn up, love. Try not to worry. Probably just had to get out of London for a bit, a change of scenery. Merlin knows this time of year is hard on us all. Him especially." Albion spoke gently, but you barely even registered his words. You just nodded, agreed with him despite knowing that your mind was already made up— You had to find out for yourself.

"I think I'll head early tonight, if that's alright with you? Try and get some rest." You murmured, wiping a hand across your tired face, "I'll be back in for my shift tomorrow, I can come in early if you need me."

Albion agreed, though clearly reluctant to let you out of his sight, "Alright love, you take as long as you need. I'll sort this lot myself." he said, throwing a glance over to the customers still sat with their near empty drinks.

"Thanks Albs, I really appreciate it." You replied, already untying your apron and turning to hang it on its peg. "See you tomorrow." you added, grasping your wand from beneath the bar and pocketing it.

Before Albion could say another word you'd already called a quick goodbye to the few regulars still left, and left the pub without another word.

You shivered, pulling your coat tighter as you walked along the street. Your mind was in overdrive, thoughts swirling around in your head like smoke. Mattheo had to be somewhere, you reasoned, in half a mind to turn up outside his flat unannounced. You would’ve already, if only you knew where he bloody lived. But you didn’t—and Albion knew even less about him than you did.

Someone had to know where he was.

Your mind flitted to his friends, to Theodore or Blaise, hell you were even considering writing to Draco Malfoy for information on his whereabouts. The only thing that stopped you was that you didn't have his address either, and you were certain the Magical Law Enforcement department wouldn't be best pleased with you wasting one of their top Auror's time with a suspected missing persons case.

That, and, you weren't so sure many people at the Ministry would consider Mattheo Riddle to be deserving of any official MLE resources.

There was one person you could ask, though, and it seemed your feet had already led you there against your better judgment. Your gaze flitted up towards the sign, which hung limply outside the dark pub, swinging gently in the breeze. Straightening your jacket once more, you slid a hand inside your pocket, pulling your wand out and slipping it up your sleeve.

Just in case.

It was risky, you knew it was, but you were desperate. And it seemed that no one could give you the answers you were looking for. So, seeking them out yourself was the next best option. A couple staggered out just as you approached, laughing too loudly, the smell of smoke clinging to their cloaks. One of them paused to eye you curiously, and you glanced away quickly, fingers tightening on your wand. Once they passed, you exhaled a deep breath, pushing open the door to the Leaky Cauldron and stepping inside.

Unlike Albion's pub, the Leaky Cauldron was still busy. Packed with witches and wizards, and all sorts of magical creatures— goblins, hags, vampires. You tried not to pay anyone attention, nodding politely towards Tom, the barkeep, as you brushed through the crowd and headed to the back door.

It had been a few months since you'd ventured into Diagon Alley, but as you tapped the brick, three up and two across from the rubbish bin, with the tip of your wand, you felt the same rush of nostalgia. Recalling the first time you'd ever come here, fondly.

The street unfolded before you in a familiar dance of moving bricks and old magic. Revealing shop fronts and cobbled streets, you'd spent the majority of your teenage years wandering in awe. But it didn’t feel like it used to. Back then, Diagon Alley had shimmered with promise. Now, under the haze of doubt and nightfall, it felt like a ghost of what it had been. Still alive. Just different.

During the war, many of the shops had been destroyed in Death Eater raids, including Olivanders wand shop. Though rebuilt to look like it once had, you could tell it was different now. Subtle details sticking out like sore thumbs, signs that had once been charmingly weathered and flaked, now sparkled bright and pristine. Like everyone was desperate to forget the way they'd been splintered and marred by pure evil.

It felt clinical now, off-puttingly so. But you weren't here to pick out every minor discrepancy you spotted; you were here for answers.

Summoning up the courage, you began to walk, ignoring the way your heart raced in protest. Albion would kill you himself if he knew what you were doing, but he didn't need to know. You'd be quick, in and out, no distractions.

You swallowed down a nervous breath as you spotted the sign for Knockturn Alley. Oddly enough, it was the most normal thing about Diagon Alley now, untouched by the raids, the paintwork was still as flaky and dull as you remembered it. Glancing up and down the street, you checked for familiar faces, just in case someone spotted you heading down into the heart of dodgy schemes and lingering dark magic.

You moved swiftly, back straight and wand clutched tightly up your sleeve. Prepared for anything— and anyone— you might encounter. The difference between Diagon and Knockturn was noticeable immediately; the cobbles underfoot became filthy and uneven, feet stumbling as you grew used to the terrain.

"Lost are we, dear?" A voice called out in a croaky voice. "I could help you find what you're looking for, you know."

Your head turned slightly, and you came face to face with an old woman, or at least, what you thought was a woman. Considering she looked exactly like the hags described in your old school textbooks.

Her face was covered in warts, teeth jagged and yellow, and she was hunched over against the wall as if unable to stand without support. Your eyes scanned over her briefly, taking in the long, spindly fingers that twisted together menacingly, her dirt-covered, splintered nails made you want to gag.

"I'm fine on my own, thanks." You hissed confidently, despite feeling very out of your depth, and swept past, continuing down further into the darkened streets.

She called after you faintly, and your face soured as you forced yourself to keep walking, keeping your eyes focused on finding what you were looking for. As you ventured further, you began to realise why you'd been so heavily warned to avoid Knockturn as a child.

Each figure you passed seemed to get worse and worse as you walked further, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling up in apprehension.

Your eyes scanned across the shop fronts, skin crawling as you spotted a shop named Arachne’s Attic selling giant, black spiders all tangled in a vast web in the window display. The shop next door, aptly named The Shrunken Shrine, held large glass cabinets filled with shrunken heads and skulls, as well as various paraphernalia which could only be associated with dark magic.

You grimaced and hurried on, spotting Borgin & Burkes, the shop which had allowed Death Eaters to infiltrate Hogwarts in your sixth year, thanks to the efforts of one— now reformed, Ministry Auror— Draco Malfoy, and the vanishing cabinet in the Room of Requirement.

The discomfort of Knockturn was enough to put you off ever returning again, containing yourself as you passed yet another shop, named, rather tamely, Still Life. Selling taxidermies of two-headed ravens and what looked suspiciously like Grindylow Skeletons.

Still, you walked further. Finally, you reached the street where you knew the illegal vendors liked to set up shop. You'd recalled the Weasley twins talking about it once, having managed to wrangle it out of Mundungus Fletcher at some point in an attempt to procure some ingredients for their Skiving Snackboxes.

Your chest heaved a little as you thought of Fred— his ill-timed jokes and contagious smirk that had everyone laughing. Yet another person who'd died in the name of peace, that thought only spurred you on, though. Mattheo was still missing, as far as you were concerned, and you'd already come so far.

Wordlessly, you scanned a few of the vendors; a young witch with black teeth selling human fingernails, another selling jewellery you were certain was either cursed or stolen. Or both.

Until finally you spotted him, sitting on an old soap box with his goods stocked messily inside an open suitcase. Mick Tolliver looked exactly like the kind of man who traded secrets for sickles and would never think twice about it.

He sat slouched behind a warped, half-collapsed stall that seemed to have grown out of the alley itself, the wooden frame rotted and sagging under the weight of cursed trinkets and unlabelled jars. The tarp hanging from the roof of the stall was threadbare and looked more like old clothes, sewn together to create a makeshift canopy.

His clothes were greasy too, and like the stall, had many patches of mismatched material sewn over holes, like he'd tried to preserve them for as long as possible. He had the posture of someone who'd once been taller, but he was thin, sullen even, as if he'd lost a lot of weight quickly and his body hadn't been able to stay upright.

A wiry beard hung from his chin in uneven tufts, stained yellow near his mouth from years of smoking, and it was evident by the smell that lingered around him, he wasn't fond of washing either. His eyes, though— his eyes were sharp. Beady and watchful, flickering over you like one of his cursed items, he was already tallying a price for.

"Lookin' for something specific, sweetheart?" he drawled, voice low and oily, "Or has something caught your fancy?" He grinned, and you wished he hadn't. His teeth were yellow, and even from a distance, you could see bits of food stuck in them.

You raised an eyebrow and scoffed, face soured with disgust, but determined not to leave his stall without information.

"I can assure you nothing I'm seeing takes my fancy." You retorted sharply, hand grasping onto your wand tightly, still hidden up your sleeve and at the ready in case he tried anything.

His grin dropped, and his eyes dragged up and down your body. You felt sick just looking at him.

"What're you doing down here then, my sweets. Not exactly Knockturn material, are you?" He drawled, straightening up ever so slightly. His beady eyes narrowed as he tilted his head, "You an Auror? ‘Cause I swear everything I’m sellin’ is legit this time!"

You ignored the pet name and the blatant lie about his stock, despite how much you wanted to hex him into the middle of next week.

"I was looking for information, actually." You cleared your throat, stepping closer, "Heard you're an expert in that kind of thing, stuff not everyone knows."

His sickening grin returned once more, and he relaxed, a chuckle escaping him like you'd just told a joke. Your face remained serious, focused. Grimacing slightly as his laughter turned into coughs, his hand dipped into his pocket to produce an even filthier rag that he coughed into.

"Well, well, well, lovely... then you've come to the right place," he wheezed, suddenly intrigued, "what 'dya wanna know? It'll cost you, though, mind."

Your lips parted, ready to ask him what exactly he knew about Mattheo when his fist thumped down on the makeshift counter of his stall, eyes narrowed once more.

"Ah-ah-ah. Cough up, first. Then you get your answers," he demanded sharply. "Too many people givin' me the run around, not paying up when I tell them what they want to know. Company policy, you see." he grinned, sleazy and pleased with himself.

You sighed, reaching into your pocket with your free hand, then slapped five galleons down onto his table. But before he could reach out and take the gold coins, you grasped them tightly in your hand.

“Ah-ah-ah. Information first,” you said coolly, tightening your grip on the coins. “Gotta check if what you know’s worth it. Personal policy, you see.”

You weren't sure where the sudden bravery came from, calling the shots in Knockturn Alley was hardly what you'd expected when you'd wandered in. However, you were desperate, and this place had your skin crawling from the moment you entered.

He laughed once more, coughed a few times too, then sat back against the wall. "Now... I like you," he rasped, wagging a filthy finger in your face. "So what are you after? Cheating boyfriend? Some bloke not answering your owl? I can be real convincing, for the right price."

Your head shook, "Mattheo Riddle. What do you know about him?" You questioned directly.

Immediately, Tolliver's face paled— his sleaziness cut dead as his finger dropped limply. He no longer had that seedy look about him, instead, it was replaced by something else. Fear.

"Don't know nuffin about nuffin." He answered quickly, arms folding over. "And anyone who says otherwise is a bleedin' liar."

Your head tilted, eyes narrowed. You knew he was lying; no one became that defensive if they had nothing to hide.

"Come on now, Mick. I know you know something," you pressed, reaching into your pocket once more, "I'll make it worth it," you added another three galleons next to the pile.

That seemed to entice him slightly. His head twisted as his eyes flickered between you and the money, like he was on the fence. Sighing frustratedly, you reached down into your pocket and pulled out another two galleons, slamming them down for effect.

That seemed to do the trick.

"Alright, fine!" he grunted, leaning forward and sparing a glance up and down the street, "s'long as you don't tell anyone, I told ya."

"Deal. Now what do you know?"

He nodded again and glanced around, like he was trying to reassure himself.

"He's not dead, not like the rumours are sayin'." He whispered, "But he needed to disappear for a bit. Get away from it all."

Your pulse thudded quicker, "Disappear? Why?"

Mick scratched at his beard nervously, leaning closer again like the shadows might be listening. “All I know is, he was involved with something dark. Not just Knockturn-deep—worse. Real old stuff. Ancient magic. Blood debts. Curses that don’t leave a mark.”

You chewed your lip, a million thoughts racing in your mind. You'd read about Blood Magic before, briefly, whilst studying for your Ancient Ruins N.E.W.T.S. It was ancient magic, belonging to another world, long before this one. Before Hogwarts for sure, and even older than wand magic itself. Whatever it was, you knew it was serious.

You frowned, "Blood Magic? I thought that stuff had died out years ago. Way back in Merlin's time?"

He shook his head grimly, "There are some kinds of magic that don't go away, no matter how hard you try." He shifted again, glanced around at the other vendors and shivered. "Word is, he’s got people after him now. Not Aurors. No. Not even hit wizards. People who don’t show up on any bloody registry, if you catch my drift."

You blinked, a cold sensation trickling up your spine. "Well, where is he now?" You questioned, your nerves shot and begging to show. You pushed the feeling down again.

"I dunno. But if I were him, I'd be long gone. Somewhere far away and heavily warded. Keep them away for as long as I could."

His eyes narrowed, the greasy grin flickering back. “You close to him, sweetheart? Because if you are… You might want to stay out of it. Fellas like that? They don’t come back clean, that's for sure.”

Summoning your last ounce of courage, you shook your head, "Concerned party is all."

Tolliver hummed skeptically, as if he didn't quite believe you. And you didn't blame him, you hardly believed yourself.

"How'd you know all this, then?" you questioned, shooting your own skittish glance up and down the street, like suddenly you could feel the weight of more eyes fixed on you. Watching.

Mick only smirked smugly, crooked and not at all comforting like Albion's smile. "Ah, now that'd be telling, wouldn't it?"

One of his bony hands reached out to grasp at the galleons, instinctively, you pulled back, watching him bundle them away inside a ragged, cloth bag. He hummed to himself as he did it, tucking them away in an inside pocket in the lining of his coat.

"You didn't hear none of this from me." He spoke, standing hurriedly and closing over the suitcase that held his merchandise. "Word of warning, sweets. If he's alive, and you go sniffin' around... they'll come for you, too. Best give up on him now, your boyfriend's neck-deep in something no one crawls out of alive."

Before you could say another word, he disapparated with a loud crack that made you flinch. Mick Tolliver was gone, leaving you alone to stare at the ruined stall—and his warning lingering in the air.

©️riddlemelater. 2025.

[spxllcxstxr]

Give Me Strength to Stand • M.R

(Gif not mine)

Request: Could you do a story where the reader (she/her) is a nurse and is struggling with returning to work in the Pittsburgh after losing their dad suddenly? Hurt and comfort with either Abbot or Robby if possible 💜 -- @rae4725

Summary: With the recent death of your father dominating your thoughts, you find it difficult to think about going into work the next day. You call up Robby to help you through it

Warnings: nurse!reader, fem!reader, death of a father, grief, overwhelming sadness, talk of Adamson's death, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 950

A.N: I have never lost a parent, but I tried my best. If you ever need to talk I'm always here for you guys <3 Also first time writing for robby and the pitt (that's why its so short lmao) so let me know if i need to work on anything or something lol

•

Tomorrow was the end of your bereavement leave and the thought of getting out of bed and going to work as if everything was fine petrified you.

You would have to step into the trauma center and focus on saving people--saving other people's fathers so they didn't lose them like you did just a week ago. You would have to give them chest compressions or a blood transfusion and while you should be focused on their care, your mind would wander and you would wonder if you father received the same treatment, states away, and if they did why didn't it work?

Thoughts like these plague you enough that you pull your covers over your head, the sunlight filtering in through your blinds irritating. Your face aches from crying and your throat is raw from sobbing into your pillow. The thought of returning to work and seeing sons and daughters go through the exact same thing difficult to swallow.

It was hard before his accident, you know this, because you always imagined the father lying in Trauma 1 with their child holding his hand while pleading for them to wake up was you. But now it really was. Tomorrow when you brought a kid to their dying dad you would now see yourself, ragged and exhausted and racked with despair.

Your back aches from laying in your bed.

Your phone dings with a text from Dana, telling you that you could take another day off if you felt you needed it. All week your coworkers had sent you heartfelt messages that made the whole process just a little bit more bearable. Your fingers hover over the keyboard to reply to Dana. Of course you wanted more time; going back to normal felt like an insult to your father's memory and simply dragging yourself there seemed like an impossible task.

But something stopped you from simply taking her up on the offer.

Instead, you text Robby to meet you at your apartment after his shift. He was your mentor, your friend, and most of all, the man you trusted with your life. Having lost someone akin to a parent, you knew he could tell you what to do.

He replies moments later, assuring you he'd be there when he's able to, and it all feels a little less scary knowing that.

Robby comes late in the night, bags under his eyes and short hair resting in chaos. His sad deep brown eyes track your movements as you let him inside and offer him tea. You can feel his gaze on the back of your neck and you shiver when his hands accompany them on your skin. His soft touches contrasted with his bone crushing hugs comfort you in a way the countless amount of sympathies from relatives and friends haven't.

On your couch, his hands clasp on of yours, thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.

"How did you do it?" You finally ask, voice cracking after not being used in days. You must sound so fragile because he frowns. "How did you just get back up and start another day after Adamson's death?"

He heaves out a sigh at the mention of his mentor. "It was hard," He states, nodding almost to himself. "So excruciatingly hard, like the world just crumbled beneath my feet and I somehow had to just keep walking like nothing was wrong."

Robby swallows roughly, thinking of his next words carefully. You bump his knee with your own, reminding him that you're still there with him. "But I knew I had to get up and continue on."

"I just...I just know I'm gonna have to save someone's father or watch someone's father die...and I just don't know how I can do that anymore without seeing him." You admit, looking past his shoulder to the yellow light of your lamp, hoping your tears would fade.

"The more you sit here and think about your father's passing, the tougher it will be to get up and resume your life." Robby shrugs. "It's a bitch, but it's true. You can't let the grief eat you alive, your father wouldn't want that."

Bottom lip wobbling, your eyes find Robby's. While your vision is blurry with tears, you can still see that his are as well.

"It's been well over a year since my mentor died but...but I know that if I stop for even a moment to lay down, I know my grief would consume me to the point of no return. He wanted me to be a great doctor and goddamn it, I'll be a great doctor for me, my patients, and for him." Robby huffs out a rough laugh. "Wherever he is, I'll make sure he knows he taught me well." His own smile is tight, red dusting around his eyes.

"You think I can do it?" You ask after a beat.

"Kid, I know you can do it. And you won't have to do it alone, either." Bowing his head, he searches for your eyes once again. "It gets easier, it really does, the grief you'll hold onto for the rest of your life will be a reminder of all the love you had for him and all the love he had for you. You just have to hold onto it and not let it consume you, ok?"

You take a deep and shuddering breath and nod. "Ok." Squeezing your eyes shut you lean into your attending and he wraps his arms around you once again. "Thank you, Robby." You whisper into his jacket.

"Any time, kid." He replies softly into the top of your head, lips grazing your hair. "We've got you."

•

[theodorenmyth]

Could you make a continuation of 'For Old Times sake', where Mattheo starts to spiral to insanity because of M.reader's death and he chose to follow M.Reader into the afterlife. They meet in the afterlife, and Mattheo cries so much and asks for forgiveness but M.r tells him that he's at peace and doesn't really care for mattheo now yk. This leads to mattheo realising his wrongs and how even in the afterlife, he can't repair his relationship with M.r. Thank you :)))

I love your fanfics ❤️❤️

For what's already Lost

Pairings ; Mattheo Riddle x M!reader

Summary ; After witnessing the death of his childhood friend—someone he once cherished but later tormented—Mattheo Riddle spirals into guilt and grief. Unable to bear the weight of his actions, he attempts to take his own life, hoping to reunite with the one he lost. Instead, he wakes up in the hospital wing, surrounded by his friends, only to realize that no matter how much he regrets, he can never fix what’s already broken. As he breaks down, Theodore Nott offers him silent comfort, but even then, Mattheo knows—some wounds never heal, and some losses can never be undone.

A/N ; done and done! Enjoy the angst 😉

Warnings ; Heavy angst, Suicidal ideation,bDeath and grief, Self-harm implications, War violence, Emotional breakdowns, Guilt and regret, Depression, Character death, Mentions of past bullying, Trauma and PTSD themes

Word count ; 3.7K

Mattheo Riddle was losing his mind.

It started as a quiet thing, a whisper of grief curled around the edges of his thoughts, pressing against his ribs like a phantom ache. The first few nights after the war ended, he could still pretend it hadn’t happened. He could sit in his dormitory, staring at the ceiling, telling himself that you were just elsewhere—hiding, recovering, tending to your wounds like all the others.

But then he started hearing your name in hushed conversations, in the heavy silence that followed when people looked at him. He saw it written in ink on the lists of the dead. And suddenly, it wasn’t just a possibility anymore. It was real. Final.

You were gone.

The world had begun to move on without you.

But Mattheo?

He was stuck.

The first time he heard someone laughing in the Great Hall, something inside him twisted violently. How could they laugh? How could they act like everything was normal? Didn’t they know? Didn’t they care?

Didn’t they realize that you weren’t here anymore?

He barely ate. Barely slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw your blood pooling beneath you, your broken body slumped against the cold stone of the battlefield. He saw your fingers twitching weakly, grasping for something—reaching for him.

And worst of all, he saw the way your lips parted to speak, how your breath had shuddered as you forced out your final words.

"For old times' sake."

It haunted him.

That damn keychain sat on his nightstand, taunting him.

The same one you had given him as kids, the one that was supposed to be a promise, a reminder that no matter what happened, you would always be there for each other.

And he had thrown it away.

Not literally—but in every way that mattered. He had abandoned you, turned on you, mocked you, hurt you.

And yet, in your last moments, you still chose to save him.

Mattheo thought about that constantly. He thought about the scars on your arms, the ones you used to hide beneath your sleeves. He thought about the way you had flinched when he and his so-called friends cornered you in the halls, how you never fought back.

How much had you suffered because of him?

How long had you been hurting before he even noticed?

His stomach churned, bile rising in his throat as he clenched his hands into fists.

None of it mattered anymore.

He could beg for forgiveness.

He could weep until his voice was raw, curse himself until he had nothing left.

But you would never hear it.

You were gone.

And Mattheo was still here.

Alone.

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

The bottle of firewhisky sat on his bedside table, half-empty. The room was dark, save for the flickering candlelight that cast jagged shadows across the walls.

Mattheo sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the small, tarnished keychain in his hands.

The last piece of you he had left.

His thumb brushed over the faded engraving, the one you had so proudly shown him when you were kids. Friends Forever.

It felt like a joke now.

A cruel, twisted joke.

His fingers trembled as he tightened his grip around the keychain, nails digging into his palm hard enough to hurt.

He barely slept anymore.

And when he did, it was nightmares.

Or worse—dreams where you were still alive, still standing before him with that same look of disappointment, that same quiet, aching grief in your eyes.

The war had ended weeks ago, but the battle inside his head never stopped.

He kept thinking—if he had just done something, if he had just listened when you tried to talk to him, if he had just been the friend you needed instead of the monster he had become—maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t have died saving him.

Maybe you would still be here.

Maybe he wouldn’t be sitting alone in this godforsaken room, drowning in firewhisky and regrets.

But maybe didn’t change anything.

Didn’t bring you back.

Didn’t erase the blood on his hands.

The silence was thick.

Unbearable.

Mattheo sat there, hunched forward, gripping his head, his fingers tangled in his curls, tugging—hard—like maybe if he pulled hard enough, he could tear the thoughts straight from his skull.

But they clung to him.

They clawed at his ribs, burrowed under his skin, whispering—

Coward. Liar. Murderer.

His chest heaved. His breathing was shallow, uneven, his vision swimming in the dim candlelight flickering across the walls.

He felt suffocated.

Like the air had turned thick, choking him from the inside out.

He didn’t deserve to breathe anyway.

Didn’t deserve to be here.

To live—when you didn’t.

Mattheo let out a ragged breath, his fingers dragging down his face, his throat burning, eyes stinging.

He had spent weeks in this room.

Weeks avoiding the others.

He had let you die.

And now you were gone.

Gone.

Gone.

GONE.

Mattheo’s vision blurred, the candlelight smearing across his sight like molten gold.

His wand lay beside him.

But magic was too easy.

Magic was an escape he didn’t deserve.

So instead, he reached for the knife.

It was small.

Silver.

The kind you’d use to slice fruit, but the edge was sharp.

Sharp enough.

His fingers curled around the hilt, grip tightening as he lifted it to his chest.

His breathing was steady.

For the first time in weeks, his hands weren’t shaking.

It was simple.

Quick.

The cold steel pressed against his ribs—

And then it was warm.

So, so warm.

The pain bloomed sharp and bright, a white-hot burn spreading through his stomach as he drove the blade deeper, gasping as his body instinctively recoiled, but he didn’t stop—

Couldn’t stop.

His vision blurred.

The warmth trickled down, soaking into his shirt, his pants, the floor beneath him.

His knees buckled.

His mind felt light.

Like he was floating.

And then—

A knock at the door.

Loud.

Persistent.

Mattheo barely registered it, his head lolling forward as the room spun.

“Riddle! Open the fucking door.”

Blaise.

His voice was sharp, edged with something Mattheo couldn’t quite place.

Another knock.

Harder this time.

“If you don’t open up in the next ten seconds, I’m blasting this door off its fucking hinges.”

Mattheo tried to speak, but his lips were numb.

The knife slipped from his grasp, clattering against the wooden floor.

The door rattled.

A pause.

Then—

A loud crash.

The wood splintered as Blaise shoved his way in, his wand raised, his expression shifting from frustration to horror in an instant.

“What the fuck—”

His voice was distant.

Muffled.

Like he was underwater.

Mattheo barely had time to register the movement before Blaise was in front of him, hands gripping his shoulders, shaking him hard enough to make his already spinning vision worse.

“No, no, no, no, you fucking idiot—”

Mattheo blinked sluggishly, his mouth parting, but no sound came out.

The warmth was spreading.

Fast.

Too fast.

Blaise’s hands left his shoulders, pressing against his stomach instead, hard and desperate as he tried to stem the bleeding, cursing under his breath.

“Stay awake,” he snapped, voice cracking. “Don’t you fucking dare—”

And then—

Footsteps.

Rushed. Panicked.

A chorus of voices, sharp with fear.

“What the hell is going on—”

Pansy.

Her voice was high, frantic, her heels clicking against the wooden floor as she stumbled into the room.

Then—

A sharp inhale.

A strangled noise.

“Oh my God.”

Mattheo barely managed to turn his head, but he saw the blur of dark hair, the way Pansy’s hands flew to her mouth, her face pale, shocked—

And then more voices.

“Move—MOVE—”

Lorenzo.

His voice was rough, filled with panic, and then he was kneeling beside Mattheo, hands hovering uselessly, eyes wide, chest heaving.

“Mattheo,” he choked out, voice barely above a whisper. “What did you do?”

Theodore was next.

He didn’t say anything at first.

Just stared.

And then his hands clenched into fists, his jaw tightening, his entire body trembling as he muttered, “You absolute moron.”

Draco shoved past them, his expression tight with something unreadable.

His hands shook.

Not much.

But enough.

Astoria hovered in the doorway, silent, her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes suspiciously glassy.

No one moved.

No one breathed.

Until Blaise’s voice shattered the silence.

“Help me, you fucking idiots!”

The spell broke.

Lorenzo pressed down on Mattheo’s stomach, his hands warm, firm, his breathing shaky. “We need to get him to the hospital wing—now.”

“No shit,” Theodore snapped, already yanking off his scarf, wadding it up, pressing it against the wound.

Mattheo barely felt it.

His limbs were heavy.

His vision was swimming, darkening at the edges.

Someone was cursing under their breath.

Someone else was shaking.

And then—

A soft voice.

A whisper.

“…Why would you do this?”

Pansy.

Her voice cracked.

Mattheo didn’t answer.

Didn’t have the strength.

His eyelids were so heavy.

So heavy.

He slumped forward.

Blaise caught him.

Mattheo could hear them.

Panicked.

Yelling.

Begging.

But it was fading.

Everything was fading.

And the last thing he thought of—

The last thing he saw—

Was you.

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

When Mattheo opened his eyes, the world around him was unnervingly quiet. No echoes of battle, no screaming, no pain. Just silence.

He stood in an endless field of golden light, stretching into eternity. The air was soft and still, the horizon painted in hues of a dying sun, neither rising nor setting. There was something eerily peaceful about it—something final.

And then—

A voice.

"Didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon."

His breath caught in his throat.

It was you.

You stood a few feet away, arms crossed, the same as you always were—except you weren’t.

You weren’t looking at him with warmth. You weren’t looking at him with hate, either.

You were just… looking.

Expression unreadable.

Unmoved.

Distant.

Mattheo’s heart clenched so painfully in his chest he thought he might collapse. "Y/N…" His voice cracked on your name, raw with emotion, with regret, with everything he had never been able to say before.

You didn’t react. Didn’t move closer.

Didn’t welcome him like he had imagined.

Because why would you?

"You…" He took a shaky step forward, hands trembling. "You’re here."

A humorless smile tugged at the corner of your lips. "Of course I am. You put me here, remember?"

The words were soft. Not sharp. Not bitter.

But they cut him deeper than anything ever had.

Mattheo stumbled back as if struck, his entire body shaking. "I—I didn’t—"

"You didn’t kill me, no." You tilted your head, eyes piercing into him. "But you might as well have."

He sucked in a sharp breath, guilt clawing up his throat like bile. His hands clenched into fists. "I didn’t mean to hurt you," he whispered. "I never—"

"You did."

He flinched.

You sighed. "I’ve had a lot of time to think, Mattheo. Time to let go of everything. And I have."

His stomach twisted.

That should have been a good thing, shouldn’t it?

You had let go. You were free.

But why did it feel like you were letting go of him?

"Y/N, please," he begged, voice breaking. "I came here for you. I—I couldn’t—" His throat tightened. "I couldn’t live without you."

You blinked slowly, as if considering his words. "So you killed yourself?"

The bluntness of your tone made his stomach lurch.

He swallowed thickly, his fingers twitching. "I thought maybe—"

"Maybe what?" You raised an eyebrow. "That dying would fix things? That suddenly, just because you followed me here, everything would be okay?"

He sucked in a breath, the truth behind your words slicing through him like a blade.

"I didn’t know what else to do," he admitted, voice hoarse. "I couldn’t stand it. Every day, every second—I kept thinking about you. About everything I did wrong. About everything I never said—" His voice cracked, and he let out a shuddering breath. "I needed to see you again. I needed to tell you that I—"

"That you what?" you asked, voice eerily calm.

He looked at you, eyes desperate, pleading.

"That I love you."

The words hung in the air between you.

For a second, he thought he saw something flicker across your face—something soft, something almost familiar.

And then you smiled.

But it wasn’t the kind of smile he wanted.

It wasn’t warm.

It wasn’t forgiving.

It was… sad.

Gentle.

Final.

"That doesn’t change anything, Mattheo."

His breath caught.

He had imagined this moment a thousand times. Had dreamed of seeing you again, of falling to his knees, of crying into your arms and begging for forgiveness, and maybe—just maybe—you would hold him.

Tell him it was okay.

Tell him you still loved him.

Tell him he wasn’t too late.

But he was.

He always had been.

His knees buckled, and he dropped to the ground, gasping for breath. "Please," he sobbed, tears streaming down his face. "Please, Y/N, I—I didn’t mean for any of this. I was a coward. I was a fool. I should’ve—I should’ve never left you behind."

You just watched him, silent.

He reached for the keychain around his neck, the same one you had given him as children. The edges were worn from years of being held, a small, meaningless thing in the grand scheme of life.

And yet, to him, it had meant everything.

He clutched it so tightly it left indentations on his skin.

"I never threw it away," he whispered. "Even when I pushed you away, even when I let everyone else hurt you, I—I never threw it away."

You looked at the keychain, but your expression didn’t change.

"You kept a memory," you said softly. "But you never kept me."

Mattheo’s breath stuttered.

His chest ached, his fingers shaking as he reached for you—

But you stepped back.

His world tilted.

"Y/N, please." His voice was barely above a whisper now, broken and raw. "I don’t want to be without you."

"You already have been," you murmured.

The truth of it crushed him.

"I forgive you," you said, and for a moment, his heart lifted.

But then—

"But that doesn’t mean I want you back."

His heart shattered.

He let out a strangled sob, curling in on himself.

"You should go, Mattheo," you said softly.

He lifted his head, dazed. "What?"

You nodded toward the distance, where a soft, golden light glowed in the far-off horizon.

"You don’t belong here yet."

The words made him freeze.

This wasn’t the end for him.

Not yet.

His mind screamed at him to stay.

To fight.

To refuse to leave your side ever again.

But when he looked at you—really looked at you—he realized something.

You weren’t his to fight for anymore.

You were already gone.

Even if he stayed, even if he wasted eternity in this in-between, you wouldn’t be waiting for him.

He had lost you long before you died.

And now, even in the afterlife, he would never have you again.

His breath hitched, his entire body trembling. "Y/N," he tried one last time, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You gave him one last, gentle smile.

And then, finally.

"Goodbye, Mattheo."

And just like that—

You turned away.

You didn’t look back.

And Mattheo felt it—the last piece of his soul breaking, shattering into nothing.

For the first time in his life, he had nothing left.

And for the first time in his life, he finally understood what true loss meant.

But there was no one left to tell him it was going to be okay.

No one left to save him.

Only silence.

And the distant glow of the horizon, beckoning him away from you forever.

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

The first thing Mattheo felt when he woke up was the suffocating weight pressing against his chest.

It wasn’t the kind of weight that could be shaken off. It wasn’t exhaustion or physical pain—it was worse. It was grief, raw and relentless, curling around his ribs like thorns.

His throat was dry, his head ached, and his limbs felt heavy, like he had been sinking in an endless abyss and had only just barely clawed his way out.

For a moment, he didn’t move. He just laid there, staring at the ceiling, the edges of his vision hazy.

Then it hit him.

The war. The screams. The smell of blood and burning wood.

And you.

Lying there.

Bleeding.

Cold.

Gone.

Mattheo inhaled sharply, a shuddering breath that did little to stop the wave of nausea washing over him. His fingers curled into the sheets, gripping them as if they could anchor him to reality.

"Mattheo?"

The voice was groggy, thick with sleep.

Lorenzo.

Mattheo blinked, turning his head slightly. The dim light of the hospital wing made everything look softer, less sharp, like a dream he was still trapped in.

Lorenzo was sitting beside his bed, his long legs stretched out, his head tilted at an awkward angle against the chair. His hair was messier than usual, and there were dark circles under his eyes. His brows furrowed as he blinked blearily, as if trying to convince himself that Mattheo was really awake.

Then, as if something snapped inside him, Lorenzo shot upright, the chair scraping against the floor. "You’re awake," he breathed.

Theodore stirred beside him, rubbing his face with a tired groan. "What’s going on—" His words caught in his throat when he saw Mattheo, his usually composed face shifting into something unreadable.

The noise must have caught the attention of the others because within seconds, Blaise, Draco, Pansy, and Astoria all turned to look.

A heavy silence settled over the room.

Mattheo could feel their eyes on him, but he couldn’t meet them.

"You fucking idiot," Blaise muttered.

Mattheo barely had time to react before Lorenzo smacked his arm, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make a point. "Do you have any idea how long you were out?"

Mattheo swallowed, his voice hoarse. "How long?"

"Three days," Theodore answered quietly.

Three days.

Three days since he had tried to end it all.

Three days since he had seen you.

Three days since he had been forced to walk away.

Mattheo clenched his jaw, exhaling sharply. He suddenly felt nauseous.

Pansy scoffed, arms crossed over her chest. "Honestly, Riddle, if you wanted attention, you could’ve just asked instead of traumatizing all of us."

Draco shot her a glare. "Not the time, Pansy."

Pansy huffed but didn’t argue.

Astoria must have noticed the way Mattheo’s breathing turned uneven because she spoke gently, "You’re okay now, Mattheo. You’re safe."

Safe?

The word felt wrong.

How could he be safe when you weren’t?

He turned his head slightly, his gaze landing on the bedside table.

The air in his lungs froze.

The keychain.

The small, silver keychain you had given him all those years ago sat there, slightly tarnished but still whole.

Still there.

A broken sound escaped him—half a laugh, half a sob.

He had been trying so hard to reach you.

But you had already moved on.

You were at peace.

Without him.

The weight in his chest twisted painfully.

His breathing grew uneven.

Theodore moved before Mattheo could fully process it.

A pair of warm arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Mattheo stiffened.

Theodore had never been the kind of person to offer physical affection easily. He wasn’t like Lorenzo, who threw an arm over your shoulder like it was second nature, or like Pansy, who grabbed your hand whenever she was talking. Theodore was distant, composed, always holding himself back.

But right now—right now, he wasn’t.

Right now, he was holding Mattheo like he knew.

Like he understood.

Like he had been waiting for Mattheo to break.

And Mattheo did.

The first sob tore through his throat, shaking his entire body. His fingers clenched in Theodore’s robes, gripping them so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Theodore didn’t say anything.

He just held him.

Mattheo buried his face in Theodore’s shoulder, his whole body trembling as the sobs wracked through him.

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair.

You were supposed to be here.

You were supposed to be alive.

You were supposed to tell him that everything would be okay.

But you weren’t.

You never would be.

And even in the afterlife, you had looked at him like he was nothing more than a ghost of the boy you once knew.

His chest ached.

His heart shattered all over again.

Theodore tightened his grip.

"It’s okay," he murmured. "You’re okay."

Mattheo squeezed his eyes shut.

No, he wanted to scream.

'I’m not.'

'I’ll never be."

Draco and Blaise exchanged a glance from the corner of the room, their chess game long forgotten.

Pansy was staring at the floor, her lips pressed tightly together. Astoria’s eyes glistened with something unreadable.

Lorenzo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We should’ve done something sooner."

No one disagreed.

Because they all knew.

They had all seen it—the way Mattheo had spiraled after your death.

The way he had barely eaten, barely spoken, barely even existed.

They had tried to help, in their own ways. Pansy had snapped at him to pull himself together. Blaise had sat beside him in silence. Astoria had offered quiet reassurances. Draco had tried to be patient. Lorenzo had been the only one who dared to bring you up.

But nothing had worked.

Nothing had been enough.

And now, Mattheo was breaking apart in Theodore’s arms, sobbing like he had held it all in for too long.

Lorenzo swallowed hard.

It wasn’t fair.

None of it was.

But that didn’t change the fact that you were gone.

And Mattheo was still here.

For now.

Mattheo didn’t know how long he stayed like that, clinging to Theodore like he was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

When he finally pulled back, his face was damp with tears, his throat raw.

Theodore studied him carefully, his expression unreadable.

Then, in a rare moment of vulnerability, he placed a hand on Mattheo’s shoulder. "You’re not alone," he said softly.

Mattheo let out a shaky breath.

He didn’t believe it.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

But he nodded anyway.

Because what else could he do?

Because you were gone.

And he was still here.

Even if it didn’t feel like he was.

[creator-duo]

@ask-joe-caine

...Oh I remember that! TMC.R and J burned down the kitchen! Also I think someone kidnapped Coe!

M.R

I need context for that later. I'll find Coe.

[found-moss-cult-lost]

[gives them a red rose]

[they look at the rose for a few seconds before planting it to the ground]

43/45

[mrsriddles-blog]

Iris | M.R

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle X Slytherin Fem Reader

WC: 3.2k+

Warnings/Notes: Mild language, angst, fluff, slow burn, crappy dad…

Summary: In which you are Mattheo’s safe haven, the Iris in his life… 🌙

And I'd give up forever to touch you

'Cause I know that you feel me somehow

You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be

And I don't wanna go home right now

You sat in the Common Room, curled up in one of the oversized armchairs by the fireplace as you read. Mattheo sat on the sofa, trying to act as if he was working in his journal, but really he was focused on you.

He wasn't one to get shy or nervous, but around you he did. For the longest time, he was so careless and reckless, but then he happened to have noticed you. You were careful, and some would argue boring as you preferred playing it safe. It made some of your housemates question how your a Slytherin.

But, Mattheo noticed how you were caring and loving to those so important to you—and the first years. Typically, the first years are left to fend for themselves, but you always help them settle in and find theirselves a group of people.

You had easily fit into your guys' shared friend group, yet he found himself wanting more than a friendship with you. You were the light in his life, and for that he'd be forever thankful.

He was struggling before he had met you. He was getting angrier, getting into more fights, feeling more spiteful, drinking more and even smoking more. He was pushing all his friends away, until you. You brought him back. He found himself controlling his anger so he didn't scare you. He stopped fighting as much as he knew you hated it. He stopped drinking and smoking as much. He hadn't felt spiteful really since he met you. It was you had provided him with such tranquility—such heaven.

Yet, he couldn't ever admit his feelings to you. He was too scared to. He was scared he'd lose you and he didn't want that. He wanted you in his life someway, somehow. If that was by being friends, he was content with that.

You yawn and he knew you'd be going to bed soon which meant he too would go to bed soon. He was only up because he saw you were the only person in the Common Room. He originally felt bold and was going to express his feelings, but he found himself backing out and cursing himself for being a chickenshit.

And all I can taste is this moment

And all I can breathe is your life

When sooner or later it's over

I just don't wanna miss you tonight

Mattheo found himself awake from nightmares, so here he was sitting in the Common Room at two in the morning.  He hadn't had a nightmare in so long and it irked him so much that they had begun once more. He was so upset and he found himself crying, so he left so he wouldn't wake up his roommates.

He was sure they wouldn't care and that they'd be concerned, but he didn't want that. He was already embarrassed that he was having nightmares again. He felt like a little kid.

He tenses, hearing footsteps towards the Common Room and he glances over to see you stumble in. He was quick to look at the fireplace, wiping his face of any traces that he'd cried earlier.

"Matty? What are you doing up?" You mumble sleepily as you stumble towards the couch.

"Dunno'." He mumbles, internally cursing himself for pushing you away now.

"Are you okay?" You mumble.

"I just...want to be alone right now." He says, sighing after he realized how douchey that sounded.

You were more awake now, trying to get a grasp on this moment. Mattheo was hot and cold in moment. Typically hot with you, but right now he was being cold which was strange. You noticed he looked upset and you frowned. You move over to the couch he was sitting on. You place a hand on his arm and frown as he tenses.

"Oh Matty, you don't got to talk about it. I get it, but I can tell you most definitely don't want to be alone right now. You don't have to put that facade up for me. Here, lay down." You say, patting your lap.

He stared at you in bewilderment. How was it you weren't intimidated and scared when he got cold with people? You weren't even fazed aside from being more caring and concerned. But, you didn't pry. You simply wanted to provide comfort. You understood that he didn't want to bare his soul open to the world right now, you understood he felt misunderstood and broken. He moves, laying his head on your lap.

You toss a blanket over his lower half before you run your fingers through his hair. You hum softly, smiling as he relaxes and he soon was falling asleep. You followed not long after.

And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

Mattheo knew he had been awkward with you in the morning upon waking up with his head on your lap, your fingers still in his hair. You didn't seemed bother, or if you were, you kept it hidden.

He was currently seeking you out during your guys' free period to apologize. He knew he was in a strange headspace last night and he felt as if he put a lot on you.

He found you sitting under the tree you all tended to occupy with your friends. Thankfully, your guys' friend group had some studying to do in the library. He sits next to you and you look up from your book before closing it as you smile at him.

"Hey, Matty." You say softly.

"Hey...I wanted to apologize for last night. I know I was a bit rude to you and I'm sorry. And I'm sorry if I put you in a weird position." He says.

"Matty, you don't need to apologize. It's okay! I don't know what's going on and you don't have to tell me. I just hope that whatever it is, it gets better. If you decide if you want to talk about it, I'm always here. There's no shame in talking about your feelings, Matty. I know you don't believe that, but it can be a good thing to talk time to time." You say, smiling encouragingly and softly.

"Can I tell you something?" He blurts.

"Anything." You murmur.

"I've had nightmares since I was a kid because my father. I haven't had them since second year until last night. So...I was upset and I was embarrassed. I'm sorry." He blurts, how cheeks flushing red in embarrassment and frustration.

"Matty, don't apologize. It's okay. I'm sorry you had a nightmare. It's nothing to be embarrassed about though. I have some too still...I've got a really crappy dad and use to...I'd have my mom to hum. Her humming always calmed me down and made me feel safe. But, she passed and then I was alone...it was just my dad and me." You say, smiling sadly at Mattheo who stared at you in surprise.

"I never knew that." He says.

"I don't talk about it a lot. I don't think I've told anyone that since transferring here believe it or not. I just...I don't know...I don't want to be pitied. I want to be seen for me, not that I have a crappy homelife." You explain. 

"All those fights I use to get into...it was to make me know that I was in fact alive. For such a long time, I just felt like my world was black and white. Fighting made me feel adrenaline and this rush and then my getting hurt...it all made me feel alive." He admits.

"Oh Matty, if you ever feel like that...like you need a moment to know you're alive, come to me. I'll show you." You murmur.

"I've been feeling that for awhile, Y/n/n. I don't think you can do anything." He says sadly, looking off into the distance.

You gently nudge him with your elbow and he looks at you. You bite your lip nervously before looking at his lips. You lean forward slowly, glancing up unsure only to see his eyes on your lips which encouraged you. You close your eyes, your lips moving softly against his.

And you were right.

His heart sped up, as a rush went through him. He kissed you back, his hands settling on your hips as he pulled you onto his lap. You pull away slowly, looking at his with a shy smile, flushed cheeks and blown pupils.

"Fuck me, I hate it when you're right." He says, chuckling as you laugh softly.

"In case that didn't tell you how I felt, I like you, Matty. A lot. I see you more than you know and I want to be able to love every piece of you. The good and the bad." You murmur.

He leans forward, kissing you again as he tried to express his own feelings. You smile into the kiss, understanding exactly what he was saying.

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming

Or the moment of truth in your lies

When everything feels like the movies

Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive

Word spread like a wildfire of Mattheo and your relationship and even three months later, it was still the big news.

Mattheo stood outside the Great Hall, nervously pacing with the big bouquet of purple flowers. There were a little this and that in there, but mostly irises. He learnt in Herbology that irises meant hope, faith, courage, and wisdom. Once the two of you began to officially date, he told you that you were his hope.

He walks in, seeing you dressed in a white sweater dress, laughing amongst your shared group of friends. Pansy sees Mattheo first and grins which catches the rest of the groups attention. You turn back just as he got about two or three steps from the table. Your jaw goes slack as your eyes water slightly.

"Happy three months, love." He says, nervously, handing you the bouquet.

"Thank you Matty, these are beautiful! Oh, look at these irises. They are so beautiful!" You say softly, looking at the different assortment.

He smiles, taking a seat next to you as he finds himself feeling much more relieved that you loved them. You lean over, kissing his cheek as you smile softly at him.

And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

You were nervously playing with your hands, your father sat across from you in the limo he owned. You were going to the Christmas's Ball hosted by the Malfoy's, but you were going to be meeting your boyfriend's father for the first time. Which meant your own father was as well.

"Stop that." He snaps.

"H-Huh?" You mumble confused before facing a sharp smack.

You stare out the window for the rest of the ride with watery eyes. You were more than happy to get out of the limo, but you unfortunately had to walk in with your father.

"Don't you go straying off, we are meeting your boyfriend's father." He snaps, grabbing your upper arm in a tight grip.

Your friend group had turned when you had walked in due to Mattheo's surprised look. You were dressed in a gorgeous dark green gown the hugged your upper body and was flowy in the skirt. You hair was done perfectly along with your makeup.

But, they noticed about the same time as Mattheo was the big ugly bruise on your cheek and the way your father grabbed your arm.

"F-Father, d-do we even know where he's at?" You ask.

"Shut up, can't you ever just shut up?" He snaps harshly at you, walking down a corridor.

Mattheo was following which made your father turn as he heard footsteps.

"Excuse me sir, I can take you to my father. Hey love, you look beautiful." He says, trying to give you a small smile.

You could see he was furious and you shake your head sadly. Your father didn't loosen his grip on you, but he agreed to follow Mattheo who led you both up a flight of stairs.

You reach a sitting room and you see his father in an arm chair. You had heard rumors that he had a spell made to reverse the affects of the horcruxes, but you didn't believe it until now. The man looked to be in his early twenties, with sharp features, a lanky yet toned build, and cold eyes.

"Mr. Y/L/N, I presume." He says.

"Yes." He says curtly.

"I'm Voldemort. Pleased to meet you...and Y/n, I've heard so much about you." He says, smiling coldly at your father before smiling softly at you.

"It's nice to meet you, sir." You murmur, trying to keep your face at an angle without it being noticed so he didn't notice the bruise.

He holds his hand out and you didn't miss how his eyes lingered on your father's hold on your arm. You gently pulled at your arm which allowed it to be released as you took his hand. You were appalled when he kissed your hand, before he focused on the red angry mark on your arm that was starting to bruise.

He murmurs a spell and watches it heal before turning your face toward Mattheo and healing the bruise on your cheek. You look back at Voldemort.

"Thank you." You murmur.

"Of course. Go enjoy the party with Mattheo. Your father and I...we are going to chat for a while. Please do save me a dance." He says.

"Of course, sir. Thank you again." You murmur.

Mattheo holds his arm out to you and you smile softly at him as you link your arm with his. Unaware of his father's eyes watching you both as Mattheo opens the door letting you walk through first with him following close behind. He smiles slightly, admiring how far his son had grown.

"Are you okay?" Mattheo murmurs.

"I'm fine. He was actually in a much better mood than I expected." You admit as you walk down the stairs with Mattheo.

"That's him in a better mood?" Mattheo asks, his own anxiety spiking as he fears what a bad mood is like with you near him.

"Yeah, probably one of the best I've ever seen him in, oddly enough. Your father was...nice. I was expecting him to hate me, respectfully." You say.

"He's been different since the spell reversed his looks and negative affects he faced. He's even been a better father dare I say. It's been...strange. He did seem to really like you. I just...I worry about your father." He admits.

Your eyes widen as you look at him.

"I don't think he'll kill him. Worst is that he’ll hex him and maybe threaten him about hurting you. That really set him off. He genuinely was excited to meet your father, but his mood shifted when he saw how your father was treating you." He explains.

"I just want to enjoy the night with you, Matty." You whisper.

"Would you do me the honor and dancing with me, love?" He asks.

"Of course." You say, smiling widely at him.

And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

You knew Mattheo was having a rough day. It was the anniversary of his mother's death and he was having a hard day coping.

Oddly enough, his father owled you and told you some things about Mattheo's mother and some things that may cheer him up. You owled him a letter back in thanks and wished him well.

You roped Theodore and Enzo in with helping set a few things up. You walked to the boys' dorm to see that they must've all left Mattheo to be alone. He was staring up at the ceiling.

"Love, I think I want to be alone." He mumbles.

"I love you and respect you, but let me be here, okay?" You murmur, climbing onto his bed.

He genuinely felt better as you wrapped your arms around him, allowing him to shift to be the little spoon as you managed to be the big spoon. You rest your chin on his shoulder as you squeeze him tightly.

"You're gonna kill me, love." He mumbles, managing a small smile.

"I just love you so much. I'm sorry." You whisper, kissing his cheek.

He hums, pushing himself back further into your embrace. You held him until he was ready to go to breakfast where he didn't necessarily want to talk or eat, just a change of scenery. You managed to get him to eat some food and drink his juice—-and even a few smiles out of him.

You took him to the courtyard, reading his favorite book to him while playing with his hair. His eyes were closed as he half-listened to you and half-thought of how grateful he was for you.

Around dinner time, he followed you with confusion to the Astronomy Tower. You had set up dinner here and planned to watch the starts with him as he and his mother use to when he was a child. You made sure to get his favorite snacks and even a few of his mothers.

"Love...what is all this." He whispers.

"Your father owled me and told me today is always a particularly rough day for you. I had already planned on spending the day with you, reading and cuddling...but he gave me a few other ideas. He told me your mom and you would watch the stars so I thought if you were up to it that we could watch them together. And he told me some other favorite foods and snacks of yours...along with a few of your mothers. I understand if this is a lot. We can go to dinner and I bet Teddy and Enzo wouldn't mind cleaning this up." You ramble, suddenly doubting yourself as you looked anywhere, but him.

"Love...thank you." He admits, his voice cracking as he pulls you into a soft kiss.

Your heart broke for the boy you loved so dearly. He was so heartbroken of the loss of his mother. He didn't deserve this.

And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

"You father seriously doesn't mind me spending the summer with you guys?" You ask for what felt like the hundredth time to Mattheo.

"He's ecstatic to have you over, love. He's got the whole summer planned with fun activities." He sighs, giving you a pointed look.

"I'm sorry! I'm just nervous! Gosh." You pout.

"I love you." He murmurs, giving your lips a pec.

"Hey, not long enough mister." You pout.

He grins before leaning back in to kiss you softly in which you reciprocated as you couldn't help, but smiling into the kiss.

I just want you to know who I am

I just want you to know who I am

I just want you to know who I am

[hivemuthur]

Just wanted to say, you put in so much hard work into 'In Thy Name' and it shows.

It is so interesting hearing you reference all of the things you learned about and read to make this story work. And as a reader so appreciative to get to take in this beautiful piece of art that you've put out for us FOR FREEEE??

Are you kidding??? Thank you for the food, I am full.

Hello and thank you so much! Research is super fun, so I'm not like... tormented or anything over it :D I also love reading stuff, so I would say it's a perk of creating. Many thanks should go to my boyfriend, who has The Library of Alexandria in his head and even though he's obviously not into Viktor, he's interested in what I'm doing and always ready to recommend me stuff with a very fierce look on his face and 'okay, you must read this.' I would never know of M.R. James without him (poor dude btw, I don't know why we landed on Lovecraft instead of him, ghost stories are equally good).

Also: the universe giving me an option on nerding out about Slavic Mythology, Call of Cthulhu, gothic romance AND Viktor?

[kisses4themissus]

helloooooiooooooooo. Loveeeeeee the Robby fic so good. Your writing is amazing.

Now I have an idea (feel free to ignore) ya know Little Mix song Love Me Like You. Specifically the lyrics:

“I’m dealing with these bo-o-oys

When I really need a man”

Is soooooo Abbott or Robby Coded instantly. Though of them lol like no way anyone gonna love you better than them

Love Me Like You | M.R X Reader

a/n: tysm for requesting this!!

navigation | send me a love letter ୨ৎ

You sighed as you rested your forehead against the breakroom’s table; The cool surface cooling you off from the light sheen of sweat you earned from running around the ED.

Lifting your head up from the table, you could see from the small glass window all of the new med students running around, the older interns just snickered and attempted to guide them before giving them up to a resident.

A moment of silence was all you had asked for during your shift, not expecting to be the center of the new students attention.

As you placed your head back down you tensed up as the door opened and the sound of footsteps followed. Your eyes quickly recognized the new balances as the owner spoke up.

“Burnt out from those kids?” Robby asked, facing you as he poured himself another cup of coffee. 

You just laughed flatly, lifting your head up. “Ha…very much so, javadi swears she saw two of the boys push each other to follow me into a trauma..” You sighed, rubbing your forehead.

“You’re their leader now, what did walsh say during the mass casualty?” Robby sighed, thinking, his fingers tapping on his mug as he thought.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown?” You questioned, a tiny grin growing on your face as robby lit up and snap his fingers, a matching smile on his face.

“That’s it, nice memory..” He chuckled before taking a sip of coffee.

You silently admired him for a moment, taking in each detail, from the hair that curled around his ears to the small but bright freckles on his cheeks, you had been zoned out but was brought out of it, jumping as one of the med students popped in, his eyes lighting up brightly as he found your own.

“Um, excuse us dr. robby, but our–uh ladder injury guy’s CT came back..” The student spoke up, you just nodded and stretched your neck, trying to pop it.

“I’ll be right there...” You brushed the kid off before standing up, following the student out the breakroom and towards a free desktop to look at the results.

Robby smiled as he watched from the door as the kid hovered over your shoulder while you tiredly scrolled through the results. 

- - - - - - - -

Exiting the curtained room a wave of exhaustion hit you, covering your mouth as you began to yawn. You quickly pulled out your phone to check the time, your lock screen lit up, a photo of your dog displayed on your screen.

“Is that your dog doctor?” One of the med students asked you, a smile on her face.

You smiled at her and nodded, turning the screen to her. 

“You have a dog?” One of the students, mason asked.

You sighed and attempted to hide your annoyance at the former frat boy. “Yep, he’s like my child.” You gave him a tight smile.

“I have a golden lab, we should set up a possible play date for them sometime no?” He asked, a cocky grin on his face.

You couldn’t stop a scoff from coming out, your laughter quickly followed, “Cooper isn’t too social, he got surgery recently and can’t do playdates, sorry.” You sighed, the other student just grinned into her hand as you brushed pass mason, walking towards central.

“Damn, you and your dog just got rejected..” Kaitlyn, the other student laughed at mason.

“Oh be quiet, i known girls like her, dated tons of them. They act not interested then as i “supposedly” lose attraction she’ll come to me!” He scoffed, looking at kaitlyn as if she was dumb.

Santos snorted at his logic, peering over at him, making it known she had heard the whole thing.

“Or you’re maybe just a jackass who doesn’t take no?” Trinity shrugged before grabbed her stethoscope from the desk, rushing as a trauma entered.

“I’m not an jackass..” Mason muttered under his breath.

“No but you got a good ass on you, turn to the side for me handsome..” Myrna whistled at him, making mason jump and quickly excuse himself before he got left with myrna alone.

Entering a trauma room, mason noticed you off the side, watching as robby cleaned up the intubated trauma’s mouth of secretions, as robby reached over to get more wiggle room, mason caught sight of a chain, a plain metal band sat beside another, a star of david on the other.

Mason kept quiet, making note to ask whitaker about it later.

- - - - - - - -

“Tell me i’m amazing!” You told robby as you approached him, your hands in your scrub pockets.

“Now what did you do?” Robby questioned, his eyes narrowing playfully.

“Got ICU to take three patients upstairs!” You smiled, bouncing around, making robby watch with a smile.

“Alright, you’re amazing..” Robby chuckled, running his hand over your lower back. From a distance, mason made a look which earned whitaker’s attention.

“I wonder how his wife feels about that..” Mason scoffed, dennis looked to the student, moving his eyes away from the chart in front of them.

“Who’s wife?” Whitaker asked, looking around for anything unusual.

“Dr. Robby’s wife, he seems oddly close with her..” Mason nodded in your and robby’s direction. Dennis looked over to see you and robby at central, robby watching you with a smile as dana handed over your energy drink, his hand still on your back.

“I think she’s fine with it..” Whitaker shrugged, not seeing anything wrong.

“Just seems odd to me..” Mason shrugged, walking away from whitaker who now sat at a desk confused.

Thankfully for the rest of your shift you had managed to hide away from the med students, as you collected your things from your locker you let out a yawn.

You shuffled your way out of the ED with the other day shift.

Making your way to the park, you all found empty benches, you looked around and sighed, not seeing robby nearby, you assumed he must’ve gotten caught up with jack on each patient.

Perlah handed you a cool water from donnie’s bag, you smiled and thanked her as you sat down on the wooden bench, opening the water.

“I need a warm bath and a whole bottle of wine right now..” You announced, slouching into the bench, exhaustion hitting you.

“That sounds nice..” Samira hummed in agreement with you as she sipped a beer donnie had handed her. “How’s cooper doing?” She asked, making you smile.

“He’s recovering, he loves how we’ve been spoiling him..” You chuckled, mindlessly you scratched your neck and pulled out your necklace from under your scrubs, on a dainty chain sat your wedding ring.

“He deserves it, he’s just a poor baby!” Samira cooed as you showed her photos of your dog.

Mason and the other interns walked over to the group and took a seat on the benches as the others began asking about their day.

As mason tuned out everyone, he noticed as you lit up at the sight of robby.

“I hate to leave you all so soon but i need to go see my cooper!” You announced, standing up from the bench, grabbing your bag.

Robby smiled and waved to the others, before leaving robby turned to mason, an off look in his eyes as he stared the frat boy down. “Get some sleep dr. mason, something tells me tomorrow’s gonna be tough.” Robby’s words make you snort, gently elbowing his side.

Robby just smiled at you and let his hand drift down to your back as you both walked to the car.

“Is no one concerned for dr robby’s wife?” Mason asked, making the others looked at him confused.

“What do you mean?” Samira asked, looking back at where robby’s truck pulled out of the parking lot. “Dr robby seems a little too close to his fellow attending, if i was married i would not be holding my attendings back or driving her home if she gave me those love filled eyes..” Mason scoffed, his words making everyone start to laugh.

“Oh my god, you still haven’t gotten it have you!?” Santos asked, her laugher booming as whitaker just chuckled and looked around.

“Get what?” 

“She’s dr. robby’s wife, they’ve been married for four years now dude..” Princess explained, laughing a bit.

Mason’s face dropped; now understanding he had spent most of his week and day flirting with his attending’s wife.

- - - - - - - -

You yawned as robby drove on the freeway.

“So that mason kid..” Robby spoke up, making you laugh.

“Jealous I got a young lover waiting at the door?” You teased, robby just shook his head, a small smile on his face. “Besides after tomorrow i’m sure he won’t even step a foot near me.” You both laughed.

You both sat in comfortable silence for the drive, growing sleep you had popped up from your seat and turned the radio on.

A laugh escaped robby’s mouth as the radio lyrics filled the tiny space.

You smiled at him and began to sing, occasionally brushing your hand over robby’s beard.

“When i really need a man, that can do it like I can!” You sang, leaning over the console to place kisses robby’s bearded cheek. “But you got that nasty, and that’s what i want!” You finished, making robby just chuckle, his cheeks turning a bright red as he shyly glanced over at you.

“You really don’t want a young guy?” Robby asked, his eyes softening at you.

You shook your head and held his unoccupied hand. “I prefer the active suicide risk type over former frat boys..” 

Robby just chuckled and kissed the back of your hand as little mix played in the background.

[faymaker]

So I saw this post about how in the books, Dracula is actually an old man and I always imagined Dracula looked like older Christopher Lee, who played him while he was a kid. While looking him up I accidentally discovered that Christopher Lee was the coolest person in the universe and there is a non-zero chance he was actually Dracula in real life

Sir Christopher Frank Carandini Lee CBE CStJ (May 27th 1922 - June 7th 2015), Sir because he was knighted in 2009 for his charity and his contributions to cinema

So first of all, I saw that he actually knew 8 LANGUAGES (English, Spanish, French, Swedish, Italian, German, Russian and Greek) and was also a staggering 6 feet 5 inches in height. Born in Belgravia in London, one of the most Dracula sounding places I’ve ever heard of, here’s some insane facts about him

•His father, Lieutenant Colonel Geoffrey Trollope Lee of the 60th King's Royal Rifle Corps, fought in the Boer War and World War 1

•His mother, Countess Estelle Marie (née Carandini di Sarzano) was an Edwardian beauty who was painted by Sir John Lavery, Oswald Birley, and Olive Snell, and sculpted by Clare Sheridan

•Lee's maternal great-grandfather, Jerome Carandini, the Marquis of Sarzano, was an Italian political refugee

•Jerome’s wife was English-born opera singer Marie Carandini (née Burgess), meaning that Lee is also related to famous opera singer Rosina Palmer

•His parents would divorce when he was four and his mother would marry Harcourt George St-Croix Rose, banker and uncle of Ian Fleming, making the author of the James Bond books Lee’s step cousin. Fleming would then offer him two roles as the antagonist in the film adaptations of his books, though he was only able to land the antagonist role in The Man With the Golden Gun. It’s believed his role in the film is significantly better and more complex than his book counterpart, played as “a dark side of Bond”

•His family would move and they lived next door to famous silent film actor Eric Maturin

•One night, before he was even 9 years old, he was introduced to Prince Yusupov and Grand Duke Dmitri Pavlovich, THE ASSASSINS OF GRIGORI RASPUTIN, WHOM LEE WOULD GO ON TO PLAY MANY YEARS LATER

•Lee applied for a scholarship to Eton, where his interview was in the presence of the ghost story author M.R. James, who is considered one of the best English language ghost story writers in history and who widely influenced modern horror

•He only missed by King’s Scholar by one place by being bad at math, one of the only flaws God gave him

•Due to lack of working opportunities, Lee was sent to the French Riviera and stayed with his sister and her friends while she was on holiday, and on the way there he stopped briefly in Paris with journalist Webb Miller, a friend of his step father. Webb Miller was an American journalist and war correspondent and was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize for his coverage of the execution of the French serial killer Henri Désiré Landru, also known as BLUEBEARD. He also helped turn world opinion against British colonial rule of India

•While staying with Miller he witnessed Eugen Weidmann’s execution by guillotine, the last public execution ever performed in France

•Arriving in Menton, Lee stayed with the Russian Mazirov family, living among exiled princely families

•When World War 2 began, Lee volunteered to fight for the Finnish Army against the Soviet Union in the Winter War, and a year later, Lee would join the Home Guard. After his father died, he would join the Royal Air Force and was an intelligence officer and leading aircraft man and would later retire as a flight lieutenant in 1946

•While spending some time on leave in Naples, Lee climbed Mount Vesuvius, which erupted only three days later

•After nearly dying in an assault on Monte Cassino, Lee was able to visit Rome where he met his mother’s cousin Nicolò Carandini, who had fought in the Italian Resistance Movement. Nicolò would later go on to be the Italian Ambassador to Britain. Nicolò was actually the one to convince Lee to become an actor in the first place

•Oh yeah Christopher Lee was seconded to the Central Registry of War Criminals and Security Suspects where he was tasked with HELPING TRACK DOWN NAZI WAR CRIMINALS

•Lee’s stepfather served as a captain in the Intelligence Corps

•He was actually told he was too tall to be an actor, though that would honestly help him considering one of his first roles was as The Creature in The Curse of Frankenstein

•He was cast in Captain Horatio Hornblower R.N (1951) as a Spanish captain due to not only his fluency in Spanish but also he knew how to fence!

•Lee’s portrayal of Dracula had a crucial aspect of it which Bela Lugosi’s didn’t have: sexuality, a prime aspect of the original novels.

•While being trapped into playing Dracula under Hammer Film Productions, Lee actually hated the script so much that he would try his best to sneak actual lines from the original novel into the script

•Ironically, he was rejected from playing in The Longest Day because “he didn’t look like a military man”

•Christopher Lee was friends with author Dennis Wheatley, who “was responsible for bringing the occult into him”. He would go on to play in two film adaptations of his novels

•His biggest regret in his career is not taking the role of Sam Loomis from Halloween when offered to him

•Christopher Lee was the only person involved with the Lord of the Rings movies to have actually met J.R.R Tolkien

•When playing Count Dooku, he actually did most of the swordsmanship himself

•Christopher Lee was the second oldest living performer to enter the Billboard Top 100 charts with the song “Jingle Hell” at 91 years old. After media attention, he would get No. 18, and Lee became the oldest person to ever hit the Billboard Top 20 chart

I really am leaving some stuff out here and I may go on

[sinnerofwalpurgisnacht]

Hi Faust! How does Sinclair tend to react to your One Who Grips identity?

Poorly, to be succinct. Early on, Dante sent both Faust with that identity and Sinclair without any on a Mirror Dungeon run. It went about as well as you would expect, it had to be abandoned at the fourth floor as supposedly everyone except Sinclair had been wiped out. He had an odd look about him by the end of it and Faust advised he stay out of battle for a while.

He has only started talking about it recently and has given his permission to share this information. Thankfully Dante has always since given Sinclair another identity when they deploy other N Corp units. If by chance you encounter his own blog, it would be wise to avoid bringing it up.

Good kid. S.I.D.R.I. - M.R.

(Shame I don't remember it.)

[ethanmaldridge]

Do you have any books you'd recommend in particular? I just finished Deephaven, and it's left a wanting ache in me.

(BTW - I ADORE your art, to say nothing of your writing as a whole :3 stellar, spectacular, beyond articulation... Particularly enamoured with Naomi and Ruth, as it were, though Nev and Danny are very close behind. The visuals you build are STELLAR, in word and ink alike, comfortable and haunting simultaneously)

Thank you so much! I'm so glad to hear you enjoyed DEEPHAVEN and connected with its characters.

I'm happy to say that there will be another Deephaven Mystery, titled SCRIMSHAW, out this September. In the meantime, I'm happy to recommend some books with a similar tone to hold you over until the fall!

All Ages:

THE HOUSE WITH A CLOCK IN ITS WALLS by John Bellairs (any of John Bellairs' mystery novels, really. They were my favorites as a kid and a major touchstone for the Deephaven Mystery series)

UNCLE MONTAGUE'S TALES OF TERROR by Chris Priestley

THE CLACKITY by Lora Senf

WITCH WEEK by Diana Wynne Jones

Adult:

SUMMER SONS by Lee Mandelo

PLAIN BAD HEROINES by Emily Danforth

The Ghost Stories of M.R. James

Comics:

THROUGH THE WOODS by Emily Carroll

HELLBOY: THE CHAINED COFFIN AND OTHERS by Mike Mignola

HARROW COUNTY by Tyler Crook and Cullen Bunn