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Just wrote my first fanfic

A lovely Mistake or maybe not (2198 words) by ThatOneSlytherin1398 Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter & Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Additional Tags: My First Fanfic, Short One Shot, One Shot, Minister for Magic Tom Riddle, Auror Harry Potter, Tags May Change, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Cheating, Smitten Tom Riddle, Love at First Sight, Mpreg, Unplanned Pregnancy Summary: Harry and Tom meet a work gathering and after finding out Harry’s fiancé Draco is cheating on him end up doing something they both might regret or not, who knows.

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Could you write a Tomarry fic where Harry goes back in time and instead of trying to kill Tom he tries to Suduce him and succeeds in doing so?

Absolutely! I love this idea 👁️👄👁️

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The Unexpected Heir

Summary: It’s that home ec unit where you raise fake babies. There’s an odd number of students, so Harry’s playing the single parent. The doll is supposed to shapeshift to look like a mixture of both “parents,” so they’ll take care of it better by using their magic. Harry’s doll should look like a perfect replica of himself.

But instead, it looks a lot like Tom Riddle.

Extra points if, after the unit is done, the dolls are supposed to disappear, but Harry’s doll doesn’t and just keeps growing.

Double extra points if Voldemort is alive and finds out about the baby and is VERY CONCERNED that Harry got pregnant or something, because the home ec unit didn’t exist when he was at Hogwarts and he wasn’t really paying attention when he was with Quirrell.

(A prompt by BorealisPhoenix)

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Hell Hath No Fury Like a Co-Parent Scorned

Summary: Based on that old internet post where a fae and a demon are promised the same baby. Voldemort (the demon) and Harry (the fae) both technically have custody over the child, and neither of them are willing to back down about it (what do you think they are, losers?) A prompt by BorealisPhonix.

Word count: 947

The crossroads was a place of paradoexs, where shadows whispered secrets to the light, and the air shimmered as though it was unsure whether to be warm or cold. It was here, beneath a sky split between perpetual sunlight and a simmering blood moon, that two figures materialised in a storm of angry magic.

On one side stood Voldemort, a towering silhouette cloaked in the scent of brimstone and despair. His eyes, two glowing embers in an otherwise featureless face, burned with malice as his shape flickered, serpentine and shifting, revealing something even less human beneath a mass of shadows and spines that clawed at the edges of reality.

Opposite him, Harry emerged from a glade that hadn’t existed a moment before. Flowers bloomed in his wake, twisting into shapes too intricate to be natural, while silver vines coiled around his feet, pulsing with energy. His face, painfully symmetrical and glowing faintly with a light that hurt to look at directly, was framed by wild black hair that seemed to move in an unfelt breeze. He smiled, wide and sharp, revealing teeth that were perhaps a little too perfect.

Between them, the baby wailed, a mortal child wrapped in a bundle of tattered cloth, wholly unaware of the cosmic custody battle about to erupt.

"Excuse me," Voldemort intoned, his voice deep and reverberating like the toll of a funeral bell. "This child belongs to me. The father promised me its soul in exchange for dominion over his enemies."

Harry tilted his head, the motion unnervingly fluid. "Oh, did he now?" His voice was as melodic as a lullaby, yet carried an undercurrent of razorsharp mockery. "Funny thing, that. The mother struck a bargain with me. She asked for fae protection for her precious oldest son. And you know how we fae are about promises."

A tension crackled in the air as reality itself seemed to groan under the weight of their conflicting claims.

"You cannot take what has already been claimed," Voldemort hissed, the shadows around him coalescing into the vague shapes of writhing creatures. "A contract sealed in blood trumps your frivolous little agreements."

Harry chuckled, a sound that was maddening. "Blood? Cute. But a mother's word carries far more weight than you apparently understand, demon. Or perhaps you’ve forgotten the rules of our game?"

"The rules are malleable," Voldemort snarled, stepping forward. Each of his steps burned the ground beneath him, leaving smoldering ash in his wake. "And I do not play. This child is a tool, a weapon to be sharpened. A soul bound to me will accomplish far more than anything your flowery tricks could achieve."

Harry’s grin widened impossibly, the corners of his mouth nearly reaching his ears. "Flowery tricks? Oh, darling, if only you knew what you were up against. This child could become a legend under my care, a hero, even! Not to mention how much fun it will be watching you sulk about it."

As the argument reached an impasse, a sudden crack of thunder split the sky. The ground trembled, and a swirling portal of light and darkness erupted between them. From its depths emerged a third figure, draped in neutral-toned robes that shimmered with incomprehensible sigils. They were neither fae nor demon but something else entirely, an arbiter of cosmic law.

"Enough!" the mediator bellowed, their voice ringing with the authority of a dozen overlapping realms. "Your dispute threatens the fabric of reality itself. The child belongs to neither of you entirely."

Harry pouted, looking up through his long lashes that covered his sparkling green eyes. "Oh, but you can’t just let him have it. Do you know how boring demons are? It’ll be all fire and brimstone, with no room for whimsy."

"And leaving the child with the fae," Voldemort interjected icily, "will doom it to a life of frivolity and delusion. Mortals were not made for endless dances and riddles."

The mediator sighed a sound that carried the exhaustion of eons. "By the laws that bind your realms, you both hold valid claims. Therefore, the child’s custody must be… shared."

"Shared?" Voldemort’s voice could have frozen magma. "You expect me to share with him?"

Harry clapped his hands together, laughing with delight. "Oh, this is rich! We’re going to be a little family! Isn’t that just precious?"

The arbiter raised a hand, and both Harry and Voldemort fell silent, their gazes snapping to the being. "The contract is sealed. You will co-parent this mortal child. Any attempt to subvert this arrangement will result in—" They gestured vaguely at the fabric of reality, which shuddered ominously. "Unraveling."

Harry leaned down, scooping up the baby with unsettling grace. The child instantly stopped crying, staring up at him with wide, curious eyes. "Well, this will be fun," he mused. "Don’t you think so, Voldey?"

"Do not call me that," Voldemort growled, his hands curling into claws.

Harry wiggled his fingers in the demon’s direction, his smile nothing short of insufferable. "Oh, we’re going to get along splendidly, I can already tell. Come on, darling," he cooed to the baby. "Let’s go set up our little home."

Voldemort glared at Harry, shadows gathering around him like an angry storm cloud. "I will not tolerate your frivolities, fae."

"And I," Harry replied breezily, "won’t tolerate your doom and gloom aesthetic. But I suppose we’ll just have to compromise, won’t we?"

The arbiter, apparently satisfied that their job was done, vanished in a flash of light, leaving Harry and Voldemort standing in the now-silent crossroads.

The baby hiccupped.

Harry grinned. "This is going to be so much fun."

Voldemort, his fiery eyes narrowing, muttered darkly, "This is going to be Heaven.

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A girl was used to quiet. Quiet rooms, quiet hands, and quiet whispers. Silence was survival, something she learned young—how to tiptoe, how to sneak, how to disappear. But she hadn’t always been quiet. Once, she’d screamed and cried, her voice loud with the desperate hope someone would care. She learned quickly that noise brought pain, and silence was safer.

She wasn’t taught words, not at first. Words, she had learned, were dangerous. Words lied, but bodies didn’t. So instead, she learned to read a shift in weight, a flick of the wrist, the twitch of a mouth hiding a lie. Her education wasn’t one of comfort or curiosity—it was precision and violence, survival etched into muscle memory. A girl lived without true understanding until the day she met The Batman, and her world cracked open.

Suddenly, there was sound—too much sound. Laughter, arguments, the wild thrum of a piano from upstairs. Little and big brothers bickering, teasing, singing. It was overwhelming and impossible and free.

It was hers.

A girl didn’t have the words to explain what she felt when Bruce welcomed her into the manor, but she didn’t need them. He spoke to her not with his mouth but with his hands, slow and deliberate, shaping a language just for her. Words made from careful motions, as patient as they were kind.

And with those words came something even greater: a name. Her name. Cassandra Cain.

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Can you please make a Danny(Danny phantom) x Cassandra (Black Bat) 💛💛🦇🦇

Oh my God! I love that pairing but there's not that many fics. Any specific things you like in it?

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✨ Requests Open! ✨

Hey, friends! Welcome to my fanfiction playground! I started this blog to focus on writing all kinds of fics, and I’d love to bring your ideas to life. Got a wild prompt, favorite ship, or random trope you’re dying to see? Hit me up!

Here’s what I’m open to writing for:

Harry Potter

Batman (all media)

Danny Phantom

Baldur's Gate 3

Dragon Age

The Hobbit

Hannibal

Dead by Daylight

Let’s make some magic together (or chaos, I’m not picky). Send those requests my way!