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Asks are back on.

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daily sketch on ipad ୨ৎ

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It’s a regular morning at Hogwarts when Tom wakes up before his dorm mates. Even while sleeping, he never truly surrenders to rest , always fearing someone might attack him if he lets down his guard too long for even a second. Some may call it foolish, but they are clueless to him, their opinion matters nothing to him. His paternal family was the perfect example of this—one moment careless, the next, dead by his hand. He will never forget the look in his father’s eyes when he saw who returned for him, the scream he let out as his mother’s lifeless body hit the ground with a thud. Pathetic, truly pathetic. Tom can’t wrap his head around the fact that his own mother thought of him as worthy to continue the bloodline of Salazar Slytherin himself. She tainted it—him. Not once did his father try to retaliate or fight back. Instead, he collapsed into a frenzy—worse than a toddler, Tom might add.

It was humorous, almost. They deserve no pity, they are worthless muggles, who thought they could deny his existence—when he, Tom Marvolo Riddle, is leagues above them.

Tom thought of himself as immune to guilt, and unable to be haunted—but his accursed muggle father has proved him wrong. Not in a physical way, his ghost would cower before him. No, his punishment is worse—They share the same face. When he first saw his father at the Riddle mansion, he felt his body twitch in disgust, involuntarily so. He always figured that a son would resemble his mother most, like Abraxas with his own, but Tom—Tom was cursed to be a filthy muggle mans twin.

He never hated his reflection before. How could he? One smile, and people tripped over themselves to please him—classmates, professors, even older witches hoping for a glance. His face is a weapon, a deadly one if needed.

Maybe that is how this useless excuse of a human, his father, was able to gain a pureblood witches affection—his appearance. There cannot be a different solution, what else would she have seen in him?

He sighs to himself as he sits up, his feet touching the cold stone floor, sending a small shiver through his body. Tom glides a hand through his raven hair. He cannot allow this to affect him—this…this weakness. Not when his goals draw nearer with each passing day. No, his appearance no longer defines him. He has stepped beyond the bounds of feeble humanity. Not even his impure blood can deny him that. His soul is split, for eternity. His body is indestructible—his fathers? Six feet below his feet.

05:04. He should have been in the bathroom four minutes ago. No more time could be spared on weakness. There were tests to write, duties to fulfill, and later—an audience with his loyal peers.

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just…Sticky notes^_^

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Summer headcanons⛱️

Tom is very dramatic, and summer truly brings out the worst in him.

If he spends a second too long in the sun, he wakes up with a sunburn. So, don’t ask him to meet you outside during the day, unless you want to be on his list.

If he starts to sweat, he gets fussy. Everything starts annoying him, even a hair out of place.

Refuses to put on shorts, no matter how hot he is—reminds him of his time at the orphanage…and because he wants to be dressed nice.

Still drinks hot tea during summer.

Cannot sleep without his covers. (sweats)

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The Knights of Walpurgis

A group of students that were equally as brilliant, as they were grotesque.

Admirers of beauty, and destruction alike.

A group not formed out of a shared interest, but primarily out of shared hatred. Entitlement, the need for power, and the belief that they would reclaim their world.

Their presence lingered in halls, their laughter frightened those who already did not belong.

Their professors, unaware of the wickedness that was growing under their very roofs, were impressed by the boys alleged friendship. To them, the boys reflected everything a group should represent; loyalty, dedication, and respect—but directed towards what? Surely not what they had hoped for.

Soon, the knight emerged from within the castle, but not for goodness, but everything they deemed as wicked.

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Tom vs his “im not like other boys” phase, but it sticks with him for life—because he is not wrong.

(He is worse)

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Mother and Father

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Tom Marvolo Riddle, Head Boy 🐍 Painted on CLIP Studio Paint.

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i wish we had more information or canon material about the knights of walpurgis. we are living off few crumbs here

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I blame @noxxytocin for this piece.... kidding!! My gratitude to him for going such lengths to lift up my spirits <3

What's with me and Gaunts...??? Gawd....

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Sorry for my absence, but im still lurking 🙂‍↕️

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I wish I had my muses discipline 🫩

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self-confident school prefect