kiyofiles
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dew scented ; as delicate as a kiss.
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PLEASE EVERYONE REPOST THIS!!! OUR COUNTRY’s IN SHAMBLES. POLICE ARE TARGETING INNOCENT CIVILLIANS, KILLING INNOCENT CIVILLIAN AND THROW TEAR GASES AT PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION STATIONS. NO MEDIA COVERAGE ARE HAPPENING IN THE COUNTRY. PLEASE, PLEASE REPOST THIS!
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PLEASE EVERYONE!! WE NEED YOUR HELP! BY AUGUST 29 2025, THERE ARE 66 RADIO + NEWS CHANNEL THAT ARE BANNED TO SPREAD ABOUT WHATS HAPPENING!! WE NEED YOUR HELP
WHO DO WE CALL WHEN THE POLICE MURDERS!?
THEY PURPOSELY RAN OVER AN UNARMED, A BYPASSER 21 YEARS OLD ONLINE TAXI DRIVER WITH A MILITARY TRUCK.





THE PUNISHMENT IS NO ENOUGH TO PAY FOR THE LIFE THAT THEY TOOK!
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01. I Love You, And It's Getting Worse · Tom Riddle x Gn!Reader
SYNOPSIS: "he had never loved. but now there was something─someone. an unlooked-for light. a warmth that melted through the frost of his being. he had not sought it, but it had found him." ★ riddle who thought he was indifferent to emotions, riddle who thought he was above love, falls in love. (he hates it)
CONTENT: 6k+ words, soft!tom riddle, subtle sunshine x grumpy trope, happy ending, slight angst if you squint, tom riddle being vulnerable, might be ooc.
You are too loud.
Your smile is too bright. You laugh too easily. Your footsteps are too noisy when you march across the hallways of Hogwarts. You apologize too quickly. Too briefly. You are too clumsy─a fool, you trip on your feet too often. You wear your heart on your sleeve. You act as though the world is not brimming with people who would exploit witness within the first opportunity.
There is a growing disruption in his otherwise carefully crafted, quiet order. And it is you. Muggle-born, tiring, frustrating you. He swears it's not that his eyes wander, you're just too noticeable. You just command attention. You are just loud.
Tom Riddle is not looking at you.
At least that's what he told himself. At least that's what he's been telling himself all this while. His eyes flickered over his book, scanning the same sentence again for the third time─and yet, there you are again. Loud. Distracting. Impossible to ignore.
"And then─" You paused dramatically, already grinning as your friends leaned in, waiting, "─he looks me dead in the eyes and says, 'This is the worst idea you've ever had.' Which, to be fair, it was a terrible idea, but that's beside the point."
The courtyard is alive with chatter, but your voice rose above it, bright and animated as you threw yourself into yet another story. The warm afternoon sun spilled over the grass, catching in your hair as you gestured wildly, eyes sparkling in amusement.
One of your friends snorts. "Oh no."
"Oh yes," you said, nodding enthusiastically. "But obviously, I had already committed, so I couldn't back out, right? So there I am, standing on top of the desk like a complete idiot, and—"
Your words dissolved into laughter, your friends groaning and laughing with you, all of them utterly absorbed in your story.
Tom Riddle, however, is not laughing.
He repeatedly tells himself he isn't listening. That the only reason your voice keeps dragging his attention away from his book is because you are, once again, too loud. Too much.
And yet, he'd caught the details. The ridiculous scenario, the way your face lit up as you tell it, the way your hands moved as if the words alone weren't enough. It's unnatural—how easily people are drawn, how effortlessly you pull them to your world.
His fingers tightened around his book as your voice carried through the air again. "So obviously... I try to jump down before Professor Merrythought can actually see me, but in my panic, I completely misjudge the distance."
"Oh no." Giggled one of your friends.
"Oh yes." You grinned once again, "I tripped. I fell. I took Jeremy Whitmore's entire desk down with me. Ink everywhere. Books everywhere. My dignity─Gone."
Laughter erupted around you.
Tom exhaled sharply through his nose. He is not amused.
And yet—before he can stop himself, his gaze flickered toward you again. And just as he does, you turned. Tom almost gasped.
Your eyes met his, a flickering glance, bright with lingering laughter, and your smile—although not for him and instead from your conversation, knocked the breath away from Tom riddle. And he looked away instantly, jaw tight. His fingers start to fidget.
Abraxas Malfoy, lounging beside him, stated. "You are staring."
"I am not." Tom said flatly, pretending to return to his book.
Abraxas hummed slowly, bemusedly, unconvinced. "Right.... And yet, you've been eavesdropping on that entire story."
Tom's fingers curled around his book. He isn't. He wasn't. He clicked his tongue, shooting a glare at Malfoy. Malfoy shrugged.
But your laughter rang in his ears long after you'd moved on from the courtyard and back inside the castle walls.
Tom rubbed awkwardly at one of his reddened ears.
Tom Riddle was not afraid of anything.
Not of power, not of the unknown, not of people. But this─this growing, suffocating ache in his chest when you were here─oh yes, this terrified him. There was no reason for his heart to thud this hard. There was no reason for his throat to go dry when he heard you enter the classroom, or were anywhere around. There was no reason for him to feel what he did for you.
You were not special in any way. Just loud. Just annoying.
He would not call it love─no. Tom did not know how to love.
The farthest he would acknowledge was admiration.
Nothing more, nothing less. Growing up in an environment of scarcity of both rations and affections, such as the Wool's Orphanage, especially during World War II, he had learned emotions were useless. It did not help in survival. Betrayal, death, suffering; he had seen it all. Empathy made him weak, empathy made him soft. Empathy could kill him, as it did to those naive fools who reached their hands out during the war.
But anger he could shape. Impermanence he could mold. Indifference would not betray him. It would not make him weak.
Today, you sat beside him in class.
"Hey," You called out to him, your voice hushed─but Tom feigned ignorance. Was he ignoring you, or did he truly not hear you? You couldn't tell. You tried again. Nothing. Maybe he truly was ignoring you. But why? What had you done? "I said, hey." You said more firmly this time.
"Mx. (Name)." The professor said sternly. "Greetings are to be shared outside, or after class. Not while I'm in the middle of teaching." A pause. "Or would you like to teach instead?
"No." You blinked, freezing in place─before eventually nodding. "I'm sorry, professor." And he watched, from his peripheral vision, how your face twisted, that soft frown grow on your face.
His lips threatened to turn upwards. So even you could make that sort of expression, he thought. It was.... Almost endearing.
Tom cleared his throat at that thought, adjusting in his seat.
"What is it?" He spoke eventually, when the professor had gone back to teaching in full swing, explaining the characteristics of a Thestral. His voice was quiet. He spoke slowly. Calmly.
"So now you decide to start talking," You scoffed, surprised that he actually responded to you─after numerous calls, of course.
"I have no qualms if you don't want to." Tom whispered flatly, his gaze locked onto the professor, but his attention divided towards you. "Let us converse another time, then."
"No─" You whispered back frantically. Being able to converse with Tom Riddle was difficult, especially since he was almost perpetually being followed around by students, or talking to a professor. "I mean. Let's talk now." You muttered. You didn't know when else you'd be able to talk to him.
"Hmm," Tom merely hummed, waiting for you to continue.
"I, uh. I need your help with Quidditch."
A brief pause. "...Are you asking me to play Quidditch?"
"Merlins, no!" You gasped. "Do you even know how to?"
Dead silence. Tom Riddle glared at you.
The autumn air was sharp, crisp with the promise of an early winter as Tom Riddle walked beside you toward the Quidditch pitch, his hands tucked neatly into the pockets of his robes, expression composed as ever. It would have been a pleasant evening─had he not been forced into this ridiculous endeavor.
"You are aware this is a complete waste of my time." Tom remarked while he observed the pitch, tone polite but pointed.
"You're not even doing anything." You shot back at him, scoffing, adjusting your grip on your broom as you stepped onto the field.
"You're just standing there—" You motioned to the spot where you wanted him to be. Tom didn't move right away, lingering out of sheer pettiness and a hint of defiance. But eventually, he gave in, dragging his feet over with reluctance. "With a wand. Simple."
"Yes, but I could be standing somewhere else. Doing something of actual value. Something more intriguing." He sighed as he walked, tilting his head as if considering. He should really hold his tongue, but for some reason it proved difficult with you.
"Intriguing." You echoed. "Like what?"
"Watching paint dry, I suppose." Tom turned to you.
You snorted, shaking your head as you mounted your broom. "Very funny." You grinned at him. "And yet, here you are."
His lips almost curled imperceptibly, though the amusement didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yes. Here I am."
You kicked off the ground, rising smoothly into the air. The wind tugged at your robes, cool against your skin as you tilted forward, testing your balance. Below, Tom watched with the same detached curiosity one might have when observing an experiment.
"You're far too stiff." He noted after a moment, shifting his weight slightly, ever composed. "Loosen your grip."
You rolled your eyes but obeyed, flexing your fingers before adjusting your hold. "I thought you weren't a Quidditch player."
"I'm not." Tom Riddle glanced up at you, his expression unreadable. "I simply know how things should be done."
You huffed. "Oh yeah? And where'd you learn that?"
"I read it in a book." He stated coolly.
"I read it in a book." You mimicked in a teasing voice meant to annoy him, and you could hear Tom exhaling, unamused. You ignored it, biting down your laughter and instead focusing on pushing yourself higher.
The pitch stretched out beneath you, empty and vast, the goalposts standing tall against the evening sky. It was exhilarating; this feeling of being untethered. Of being free. You circled once, adjusting to the height, letting the wind carry you as you gained confidence.
"I think I'm getting the hang of it!" You called down, enthusiastic and prideful─only for a sharp gust of wind to cut through the air suddenly. Your broom jerked violently to the side, and for a breathless moment, your body tilted too far, balance lost.
"Shit!" You yelled. Then you felt the world spin. And the sky flipped, the ground rushed up to meet you, and there was a split second of absolute terrifying weightlessness before───
"Arresto Momentum."
The spell snapped through the air with effortless precision, and your fall slowed instantly, the force of it bleeding away until you were hovering just above the ground. Your feet touched down lightly─knees slightly weak beneath you, quivering from the rush of adrenaline, but you were intact. Alive.
"Woah." You gasped, breathless. Your heart thumped wildly in your chest, and you had to hold a hand over it to make sure it didn't end up stopping. "Just...wow."
Tom lowered his wand with the same ease as if he had merely flicked dust from his robes. He regarded you with something resembling mild disapproval. "That," He said, tilting his head, "Was spectacularly incompetent. You are not made for this."
"Yeah, yeah." You exhaled sharply, still catching your breath. You flopped onto your back, staring up at the clear blue sky. "Thank you for saving my life. I'll worry about the rest on my own."
His lips twitched, not quite a smirk, not quite a smile. "It would have been unfortunate if you'd splattered all over the pitch."
"..You are aware normal people just say 'you're welcome', right?”
He hummed, unbothered, although an expression of mild amusement painted his features. He tucked his wand back into his sleeve smoothly. You studied him for a moment in silence, something flickering at the edge of your thoughts. He had done it instantly─without hesitation. Had been watching closely enough to react before the panic had even properly settled in.
"You trust too easily." He stated suddenly, eyes meeting yours.
You blinked. "What?"
"Not everyone would have caught you."
There was something strange in the way he'd said it, something measured, as if he was testing the weight of the words even as he spoke them. But you only shrugged. "But you did."
A pause. His gaze didn't waver. "Yes."
"Then that's all that matters." You shrugged.
Something shifted in the air between you─fleeting, unspoken, gone as quickly as it arrived. Then, with a slow, deliberate turn, Tom Riddle walked away from you, leaving you standing there, the wind still stirring the grass beneath your feet.
For the first time since you had met him, you had the feeling that Tom Riddle wasn't entirely sure of something. And for some reason, that thought stayed with you longer than it should have.
"─Thank you for the assist, Tom!" You called out to him suddenly, waving. "You won't have to worry about me splattering all over the pitch during the matches, I assure you that much!"
Tom Riddle was an expert when it came to managing his emotions, yet all that composure ended up toppling over when he could no longer force down his smile from, and for you.
The stadium roared.
The sky above the Quidditch pitch was a blur of gold and scarlet, banners waving wildly as the stands erupted in cheers. The energy was electric, the game stretching into its final, nerve-wracking moments. You could feel your heartbeat thrumming in your throat as you dove─wind screaming past your ears, fingers reaching─then, catch.
The Snitch writhed against your palm, wings flickering desperately, but it was too late. Your grip was firm, and the moment you held it high, the announcer's voice rang out across the pitch, deafening against the crowd's uproar.
"And that's it─It's over! House (Your House) wins!"
Teammates collided into you, hands grabbing your shoulders, voices high with celebration. Someone ruffled your hair. Someone else nearly tackled you off your broom in sheer excitement. You were laughing─breathless, the exhaustion finally settling into your limbs as you touched down on the grass. Your face was entirely red from the exercise.
And Tom Riddle's face─it was entirely red from you.
He hadn't meant to be here. He hadn't meant to watch. And yet, somehow, his feet had carried him to the edge of the pitch, away from the shouting students, away from the chaos of it all—except for you: you, glowing under the stadium lights.
You─grinning with flushed cheeks, sweat damp at your brow, panting from the thrill of the game. You─looking so unbearably alive that something twisted in his chest, something hot and unfamiliar and entirely unwelcome. Oh, this was bad.
The heat climbed up his neck before he could stop it. He clenched his jaw, forcing his expression to remain composed, but the fire was already there─burning beneath his skin, threatening to crack the carefully controlled mask he wore.
Oh, this was terrible.
Then your eyes met his all of a sudden, and for the first time in his life, Tom Riddle's breath caught in his throat, his hands quivered, his heart beat wildly in his chest and a legion of butterflies took flight in his stomach. He had refused to even acknowledge everything, the intensity of what he felt─that when he did come to terms with it, it hit him. Hard.
He turned sharply on his heel, disappearing into the crowd before you could say anything. He'd really gone and done it now.
A ridiculous, shameful reaction. It made him want to rip his heart out. How embarrassing, that he had fallen in love.
Tom Riddle sat at a table of the library, his fingers idly toying with the edge of a book, though he had yet to turn a page. He looked composed, as he always did; poised, unruffled. But you had been around him long enough to see the tension in his jaw, the way his grip on the book's spine was just a touch too tight.
"You are avoiding me." You accused.
Tom didn't look up. "Don't flatter yourself. I've been occupied."
"With what?" You scoffed. "Looming dramatically in empty classrooms?"
His lips twitched, whether in amusement or irritation, you weren't sure─but when he finally deigned to glance at you, his expression was as cool as ever. "Unlike you, some of us prefer our solitude."
You let out an incredulous laugh, stepping further into the room. "Oh, right, how could I forget? Tom Riddle: the tragic, brooding genius─too important for trivial things like human interaction.”
"Clearly, you didn't forget." he murmured. "You're still here."
Your glare was instant. "Because you vanished on me! One day we were talking─we'd begun talking─we became friends!"
Ouch. Tom's fingers twitched around the book.
"And then suddenly, you're treating me like I don't exist." You threw your hands up. "Well, forgive me for being concerned."
Tom sighed, rubbing his temple slowly as if this conversation was beneath him. "You are overreacting."
"Oh, am I?" You crossed your arms tighter. "Then tell me the truth. Why have you been acting so weird?"
"I don't act." He said smoothly.
You groaned. "Merlin, you are insufferable! And cruel!"
"And yet.." Tom started flatly, tilting his head to the slightest degree, "You still insist on seeking my company."
You opened your mouth─then shut it, momentarily stunned by the sheer audacity. But you weren't about to let him win.
"Maybe I just enjoy annoying you." You shot back. "Someone has to."
He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. What was going on again? If it had been anybody else─anybody, he would not have been indulging them like he had been to you right now. "And yet I'm supposed to be the cruel one?"
You stared at him, and for a moment, the tension between you both shifted—less anger, more… something else. His gaze lingered on you, sharp and unreadable, and it unnerved you how often he looked at you like that. Like he was studying you, like he was trying to figure you out. As if he didn't see you as a human.
You swallowed, softening just a little. "Tom…"
His grip on the book tightened. He knew that tone.
Too gentle. Too close.
"Go back to your friends, (Name)." He said coldly.
You frowned. "What─?"
"I'm sure they've noticed your absence." His voice was even, calculated. A dismissal. "This conversation is pointless."
You stared at him, waiting, hoping he would say something else. That he would give you some indication that he didn’t mean it.
But he only looked at you; face blank, unreadable.
Fine. You stepped back, chin lifting. See if I care. "You know, for someone who acts like they don't care, you sure do spend a lot of time trying to push me away."
Something flickered across his face. Gone too fast for you to catch. You turned and left. And Tom let you go—because if he didn't, he wasn't sure he ever would.
The Great Hall was alive with chatter. The usual warmth of floating candles and enchanted ceiling casted a golden glow over the students, laughter spilling freely between bites of food. It was the kind of lively, buzzing atmosphere that Tom Riddle typically ignored.
Except tonight, he couldn't.
Because of you.
You, sitting at your usual spot, but with someone else. Some imbecile sitting far too close─laughing too easily at something you had said, leaning in just enough to make Tom's hands clench into fists beneath the table.
He wasn't listening to the conversation at his table anymore. Whatever meaningless discussion was unfolding among his peers, discussions he typically orchestrated and subtly controlled; it had faded into the background, drowned out by the sharp, unwelcome focus of his attention snapping onto you.
You were smiling. That bright, unguarded kind of smile, the one that crinkled the corners of your eyes and made your laughter sound lighter. It was the same expression you sometimes wore around him—except now, it was directed at someone else. Someone who was leaning in far too close, who was looking at you in a way that made something ugly coil in Tom's chest.
He hated it. It was disruptive.
He forced himself to just— look away, fingers drumming against the wood of the table in a slow, deliberate rhythm. He had no reason to care. None. You were insignificant; a distraction.
A temporary curiosity at best.
But then, laughter. Your laughter rang out again, and the grip he had on his goblet became bruising. Avery, seated beside him, must have noticed something was amiss. His voice cut through the haze of Tom's thoughts. "Something wrong?"
Tom's grip loosened, his expression smoothing into its usual calculated neutrality as he lifted his goblet and took a slow sip. But his eyes remained locked on your figure. "Not at all."
Avery followed his gaze, and a slow smirk curled onto his lips. "Ah." Tom did not acknowledge him. He didn't have to. Avery had seen enough, and that was irritating in itself.
"Interesting," Avery mused, swirling his own drink. "I wouldn't have thought you'd concern yourself with something so… trivial."
Tom set his goblet down with a quiet, measured clink. "I don't."
Avery only hummed, unconvinced. "I wouldn't doubt you."
Tom ignored him. He focused instead on the way his pulse had quickened, on the heat creeping into his skin, on the irrationality of his own reaction. He had spent years mastering control, bending everything and everyone around him to his will, ensuring that nothing touched him unless he allowed it.
And yet, you... You were still smiling. Still leaning just a little too close to that nobody. The next time your eyes wandered toward his table, purely out of habit, out of some unconscious pull─you found him already looking at you. And for the first time, that warm, golden glow of the Great Hall felt a little too hot.
Tom Riddle had been patient.
Painstakingly patient.
He had watched in silence as you smiled at someone else, listened as your laughter rang out just a little too freely, tolerated the way you let someone stand too close. He had endured it for days—months, even—telling himself it was irrelevant. That you were irrelevant. That whatever strange, nauseating irritation had taken root in him was nothing more than temporary.
But that patience had limits.
And tonight, when he saw you standing beneath the lantern-lit archway, that same insignificant fool leaning toward you, whispering something in your ear that made you laugh,
Something inside him snapped.
The footsteps came before the words. Sharp. Intentional─cutting through the night like a knife. By the time you looked up, startled, he was already standing in front of you.
The other student barely had time to react before Tom's voice sliced through the air, smooth but edged with something cold.
"Leave."
The command was quiet. Not a yell, not a demand—just one simple word, but it carried a weight that settled heavy in the air.
Your companion faltered. His mouth opened─as if to argue, but then caught the look in Tom's eyes. Something in his expression must have struck him like a physical force because he hesitated, then quickly muttered something about having to leave before retreating down the corridor in quick steps.
You blinked after them. "What the hell was that?"
Tom didn't answer. He just looked at you.
And for the first time, there was no carefully composed mask, no charming facade. His gaze was sharp, burning with something unreadable, his jaw tight, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "Tell me." he said, voice low, measured─too controlled. "Do you enjoy wasting your time with him?"
Your brows furrowed. "Excuse me?"
"Is it fun for you?" He prattled on. His voice remained smooth, but there was something fraying at the edges. "Entertaining, perhaps? Making a spectacle of yourself with people who aren't even worth your attention?"
You stared at him, incredulous. "Making a spectacle—"
"Yes." He bit out, stepping dangerously closer. The distance between you shrank. "Parading yourself around, laughing at things that aren't even clever, indulging fools who don't deserve your company-"
Your hand moved before you even thought about it.
The sharp crack echoed through the empty courtyard.
Tom's head snapped slightly to the side, his cheek stinging where your palm had met his skin. The moment stretched, electric and charged─and both of you frozen in the aftermath.
Silence. Utterly deafening silence.
Your chest was heaving, hands still trembling slightly from the force of the slap. His face remained turned, his onyx coloured hair falling over his sharp features, but you could see the tension running through him; the slight tremor of his jaw, the way his fingers curled so tightly into his robes that his knuckles paled.
And then, slowly─so slowly─he turned back to face you.
His expression was unreadable.
But his eyes.
Oh, his eyes.
Dark. Smoldering. That same unreadable emotion from before now raging behind them like a storm barely kept at bay.
You should have been afraid.
Perhaps you would have been, if your own anger hadn't drowned out every other instinct. "You arrogant, self-absorbed bastard—!" Your voice was shaking, thick with frustration. "You don't get to act like you own me, Tom!"
He didn't speak. Didn't even blink. Just watched you. The way he stood there, composed yet seething, looking at you like he expected you to understand. Like his jealousy, his possessiveness—his damned hypocrisy—was something you should just accept.
"You avoided me," You spat out. "You chose to push me away. So what─now I'm just supposed to sit around and wait for you to decide when I'm worth your attention?" You let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Screw that."
His lips parted slightly, like he wanted to say something, like he was about to say something. But for once, he had no words.
And for some reason, that made your chest ache even more.
You shook your head, voice quieter now, but no less firm. "Whatever this is. Whatever game you think you're playing here: it's done. Alright? I'm over it. And you─" You hissed, jabbing at his chest. He flinched. "You better be over it too."
Tom Riddle had never apologized before.
Not once.
Not to anyone.
And yet, here he was, seeking you out.
The library was nearly empty at this hour, most students having already retired for the night. But he knew you'd be here. You always were, curled up in a chair near the farthest window, where the candlelight flickered just enough to cast everything in a warm, golden glow. And sure enough—there you were. Your back was turned to him, your head bent over a book, fingers tracing the edges. You looked peaceful. Unbothered.
It should have satisfied him. It didn't. It had become selfish─this heart of his. It desired something more than his ambitions, more than his mind commanded. He gave into his impulse. He stepped forward, and the moment you sensed his presence, your shoulders stiffened.
It had been weeks. Weeks since you last spoke to him. Since your gaze stopped lingering in his direction, since your presence no longer reached for his like a flame drawn to kindling. Weeks of gnawing silence, of absence, of something missing from his world that he could no longer ignore.
"Go away, Riddle."
The use of his last name was a deliberate wound.
He exhaled slowly. "I'd rather not."
You didn't look up, didn't acknowledge him beyond the brief flicker of tension in your hands as you turned the page. "That's unfortunate for you, then."
A muscle in his jaw ticked. He had spent weeks tolerating this—this distance, this stubborn refusal to so much as acknowledge him—but he would not be dismissed again.
He took another step closer, the edge of the table brushing against his robes. "I was… unfair." The words tasted foreign in his mouth. "I let my temper get the better of me."
Your hands stilled. It was subtle, but he caught it—the brief hesitation, the sign that you were listening.
"I said things I shouldn't have." His voice remained calm, measured. "Things I didn't mean."
Now, you looked up. Your eyes met his, and for the first time in weeks, he felt something crack open inside his chest.
"And what exactly," You asked, voice carefully neutral. "Did you not mean?"
He hesitated. And that alone—that hesitation—was the closest thing to an admission he had ever given.
Your lips pressed into a thin line, and you shook your head, standing abruptly. "I don't have time for this, Tom."
He caught your wrist before you could walk away.
It wasn't forceful. Not a demand. Just… contact.
You froze. For a moment, neither of you spoke.
Then, quietly─ "Please."
It wasn't a word Tom Riddle used lightly. Infact, you dont think you'd ever heard him use it before at all. You stared at him, your gaze searching. And he let you look. Let you see─the tension in his jaw, the way his grip had loosened, the flicker of something vulnerable beneath the cold control he always carried.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you sighed. "You're an ass."
A beat of silence.
Then, "Yes."
Your lips twitched. You let out a breath, eyes still on him, something unreadable flickering behind them. His grip on your wrist had gone lax now, but he hadn't let go. Not yet. Not until you pulled away first. You didn't.
Instead, you slowly sat back down, gaze sharp, wary—but no longer cold. Tom watched you, carefully, as if testing the limits of this fragile moment. "You're.. not leaving?"
"You said please." You murmured, tilting your head, almost amused. "Didn't think you were capable."
His lips barely twitched. It wasn't his cocky. It wasn't calculated. It was something else. Something softer. "Neither did I."
"You're impossible."
"And yet, you tolerate me."
"Debatable." You grinned.
Tom sat down across from you. The air between you was lighter now. The tension had not fully disappeared—there was still something unfinished, something waiting to be said—but it wasn't suffocating anymore. Your cheeks coloured pink.
For a moment, you just stared at each other.
Then, finally, he spoke:
"I was jealous."
Your breath hitched. Just slightly. Just enough for him to notice.
He had never been this blunt before—never spoken so plainly about something so unbecoming of him. Tom Riddle was not the kind of man who admitted to jealousy. And yet—
"You think that's not obvious?" You said, recovering quickly, but your voice wasn't sharp. It was almost… gentle.
Something in his jaw twitched. "I am aware that my behavior was—unbecoming."
You snorted. "Unbecoming is one word for it."
His gaze moved, almost exasperated, but there was something else there too. Something that looked a lot like relief.
He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the table. "It was not my intention to.." He exhaled through his nose, as if forcing himself to continue. "..To push you away."
You watched him, curious, waiting for him to continue.
"I do not—" His fingers tapped once against the tabletop before curling into his palm. He sighed. This was difficult. "I do not always understand how to respond to… certain things."
You raised an eyebrow. "Certain things?" You repeated.
There was a long pause. Then, finally: "You."
Your heartbeat stuttered. You were sure he could hear it, because he was looking at you again—really looking. Not in frustration, not in cold calculation, but in something more open, something just shy of vulnerable.
"You." he said again, softer now. "You are a disruption."
Your lips parted slightly. You didn't know where to look. All too suddenly, you were too aware of Tom Riddle. You'd already known he was beautiful─ethereal, angelic in a morbid sort of way. His onyx hair and coffee coloured eyes, his sharp features and intense gaze.... He was nothing short of magnificent. To you, he was more of a statue, sculpted by the most divine of hands, a star, the moon─everything far away. Out of your reach.
He was intimidating.
But for him to talk like this, to choose to trust you so openly, it made him seem alive, and not like the hollow shell of a human. It made him seem human. Not anything holy. Just Tom.
"You are not predictable," he continued, almost to himself. "You are not simple. You do not react the way you should."
You swallowed. "And that bothers you?"
Tom's gaze was unwavering. "Yes."
The air was heavy again, but this time, it was different.
He was waiting. For you to say something. Anything. And for the first time in weeks, you didn't make him wait. You reached across the table, fingers brushing against his. He inhaled sharply.
"You are... horrible at this." You murmured.
Tom let out a low hum, relieved. "I'm aware."
The next time you saw him, there were flowers waiting for you.
Just there, waiting, in your usual spot by the Black Lake─where the grass dipped just before the water, where you always sat when you wanted to be alone. Except you weren't alone now.
Tom was there.
You almost stopped walking when you saw him, standing near the edge of the lake, hands clasped neatly behind his back. The flowers─deep red roses, white lilies, and a single sprig of aconite─rested carefully on the grass. Waiting.
You let out a slow breath, stepping closer. "Tom."
His gaze flickered to you immediately, sharp and assessing as always, but there was something different this time. Something careful. Something you had never seen before.
"I assume these are yours?" You crouched down slightly, running your fingers over the petals. "Aconite? Isn't that poisonous?"
"Only if misused." His voice was as smooth as ever, but there was a weight to it now, something careful in the way he spoke.
You let out a quiet huff. "Figures."
There was a pause.
Then—
"I love you."
The words were plain, stripped of all pretense, all calculation. He might as well have torn them from himself. You blinked. Slowly.
Tom Riddle did not say things he did not mean.
Your fingers tightened around the flowers. "Say that again."
His expression didn't waver, but his hands─still folded neatly behind his back─curled ever so slightly. His face remained composed but his eyes searched yours wildly. Frantically. Desperately. "I love you."
The words settled between you, quiet but undeniable.
"You—" You shook your head slightly, exhaling through your nose. "You love me?"
"Would you like me to elaborate?"
"Yes, actually." you said, breathless, because what the hell.
Tom stepped forward. Not too close. Not yet. "I had never loved before." he admitted, voice steady but quieter now, like speaking the words aloud made them real. "But then—there was you."
He seemed to be at a loss of words. This was.. new to him. He was in unchartered territory. There was a lot he wanted to say out loud. To admit. But none of them escaped his lips.
(I was meant to stand alone. That was the truth I had always known, the path I had chosen with certainty. And yet, you.)
"You were unexpected. A warmth I had never—" He stopped himself, lips pressing together briefly. "I...."
(How infuriating it was, at first, to feel your name lingering on my lips, to find myself watching you when I should have been focused elsewhere. How maddening─how dangerous it was to realize that, in the quiet hours of the night, when the world falls silent, it is you I think of. Not power, not ambition, not the future I once envisioned with ruthless clarity. But you.)
You stared at him, wide eyed. You had never seen him like this. "You are—" He exhaled sharply, rethinking his words.
(I do not know love. I never have. But if love is this—this unrelenting pull, this ache that settles in my chest, this madness that makes me want to belong to you—then perhaps I have been wrong all along.)
"You've never done this before." You observed, slightly bemused.
This side of him, one that had never been seen before, so vulnerable.. it made you feel certain things. It pulled at your heart-strings. You never thought you'd think of this─but Tom Riddle, ridiculously, seemed endearing at the present moment.
He sighed exasperatedly, as if annoyed at himself─annoyed at how he's making a fool of himself, how he's unable to get the words out right. This was not the usual him. Not the composed, cool him. You brought out layers of him he didn't know existed.
"For so long, I considered love a weakness, a foolish indulgence of lesser minds." Dilated pupils stared back at you. "I was above such things—above the whims of the heart, above the need for another." He continued. "But you have unraveled me in ways I did not think possible, in ways I did not think I would allow. You confuse me. You challenge me. You bring me joy."
Tom's fingernails dug into his palms, creating crescent half-moons. "Yes, it is true i have never done this before. Yes, it is true I have never loved. But I know this—whatever this is, (Name), whatever you have made of me—it is yours."
The breeze caressed the leaves gently. Silence pooled the atmosphere. The two of you continued to stare at each other, wordless. You made Tom feel jittery. You made him feel out of place. "Would you.. call this love? Would you accept me?"
It made your heart melt, the gentleness in his voice, the awkwardness, the softness in his expression. Everything. "Yes and yes," You whispered, your heart fluttering in your chest. "I would." You smiled. "Without a doubt."
He let out a shaky breath, one of relief. "You love me as well?"
"I do." You laughed softly. "Do you want to know what it is that I love about you?"
He nodded, almost too desperately. He slowly sat down on the grass (his knees felt wobbly and weak but wouldn't admit it if his life was on the line), and you followed suit, sitting beside him.
"You're difficult. Brooding. Cynical. Decadent. Hateful." You smiled at him. "I adore you."
Tom was silent, staring at the lake that stretched out before you. A slow flush crept up his neck. "Are you sure you love me?" He inquired. "Your reasoning doesn't seem very logical."
You giggled, and rested your head on his shoulder. His breath hitched slightly. He leaned in, letting you. "Love isn't."
@KIYOSWRLD ─── do not plagiarize, repost, retranslate.
#tom riddle#tom marvolo riddle#hogwarts#tom riddle x reader#hogwarts x reader#harry potter#tom riddle x you#tom riddle fanfic#tom marvolo fanfiction#tom marvolo riddle x reader#tom marvolo riddle x you#harry potter series#harry potter x you#harry potter x reader#harry potter series x you#hp fandom#hp fanfic#tom riddle fanfiction#hp x reader#hp x you
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ETIQUETTE ─ BLOG GUIDELINES.
DNI ─ DO NOT INTERACT.
- general dni criteria.
- radical and terf blogs, porn blogs, purely nsfw blogs, age 30+ blogs.
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GENERAL BLOG RULES
- i don't take requests.
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WHAT I WRITE OR WON'T WRITE
- will write: angst, fluff, smut, headcanons.
- won't write: rape, cnc, dub-con, unhygienic kinks or fetishes.
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MASTERLIST ─── MULTI FANDOM
JJK ─ JUJUTSU KAISEN.
TBA.
HARRY POTTER ─ TOM RIDDLE.
I LOVE YOU AND IT'S GETTING WORSE.
LADS ─ LOVE AND DEEPSPACE.
TBA.
EXTRA ─ UNSPECIFIED FANDOMS.
TBA.
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52 HERTZ WHALE. short alucard tepes x gn!reader angst.

studies suggest drowning lasts up to 1-3 minutes. however, ever since your passing──adrien has not felt himself take another breath of oxygen.
adrien dreamt of you last night─he doesn't remember much, except that you and him kept merging and blurring into each other. you were him─and he was you. great time has passed, and yet the earth remains a thieving void; this mass has long since been swallowing his cherished. it is still never easier the next time.
"true science," you muttered, fingers pressed to your neck, over your beating pulse. unconsciously. not to hide it. not out of fear he'd dip in and sink his fangs in─not out of fear he'd rip your throat out. but absentmindedly. out of habit.
"i want to learn it with you."
adrien leaned in to press cold lips against your collarbone, and a low exhale left your mouth. you never understood what made kissing such an intimate affair, except now─when your throat was bare, and instead of choosing to tear apart gore and flesh and capillaries, he chose to kiss it. "and that, my love, you shall."
study shows people that cried less are likely to have dismissive attachment styles. today, every bedroom in this castle is his. he will wait and wait and wait, but he will also keep pushing─most of all, he won't let people in close. they will remain his. but when you first shared your loneliness with him, adrien let out tears he didn't remember having. and he held you and held you and held you─close to his slow, beating heart.
there are two coexisting truths he's learned from his life with you; (1) broken individuals sew the strongest bonds. and (2) you make him question everything he'd ever learned. about science. about the world. about himself.
"if you died, what would you be reborn as?" you questioned.
"nothing. i can't do this shit again." he shrugged, unable to help the twitch in his lips when you snorted. "and you?"
"probably a whale." "why a whale of all?" "i'm just being realistic."
now it was his time to snort. "there's nothing realistic about this topic."
individuals that spend a significant amount of time together tend to reflect each other's actions and inactions one way or another. when you took interest in aquatic life, adrien followed suit. on most days the two of you would sit by the fire, reading about marine life to each other until one of you ended up asleep.
"can't you stay this time?" the constant quiet and tense whispers outside the bedroom doors never once paused. anyone barely visited you. you'd learned to pick up on the octaves and volume of voices. frustration. fear. desperation.
"i.... can't." came adrien's slow, hesitant reply. his face was twisted into a grimace. he wished he could stay, he really did. but obligations dragged him back out onto the front lines. there were two wars that the pair was battling, both of life; one inside the confines of a bedroom and the other in a battlefield.
researchers learned loneliness expands the possibility of cardiovascular diseases. the shelves on sea life continued to gather dust. when you died, you died alone.
adrien blew the dust off one before settling into an old chair.
he turned to the page you've left a bookmark on, the little bright note stating 'to read upon adrien's return'. his lower lip trembled, and his finger dragged along as he read, "52-hertz whale is a singular whale that sings in a higher frequency than other whales, making it impossible for it to communicate with its peers, therefore classified as the loneliest whale on the planet; one's calls that will never be returned."
scientists are still searching for the 52-hertz whale. but adrien swears it's here. he hears it. behind the castle where he's buried you. and you're telling him he can stop and let go.
@KIYOSWRLD ─── do not repost, retranslate or feed to ai.
#okay idek what i wrote but this is heavily inspired by that one poem from noor hindi#castlevania#alucard adrian tepes#alucard#alucard x reader#adrien tepes#adrien tepes x reader#castlevania x reader#castlevania nocture x reader#alucard fahrenheit tepes#alucard tepes x reader
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𐔌 . ☁️ ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱ ── kiyo , 19 , multifandom , mlist , interacting from here
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