#I love this riddle so much

[sinvulkt]

Sanctum Sanctorum by englishable ( @englishable )

A timeline breaks and splits. Choices and actions fracture off into infinite possibilities. In one particular lifetime, at one particular moment, a man loses the woman he loves and then loses the whole world in his futile effort to get her back: and in the sacred timeline, meanwhile, Christine Palmer hears about it.

She's gotten accustomed to hearing weird, unbelievable things, having Doctor Strange as a friend - and having him back in her life again, after five years of everyone telling her he was dead - but this newest weird thing is different, and maybe her own past with Stephen Strange has a future as well. Finished, 35k words.

*** ** * ** ***

Part 2 - The Riddle

“There’s a man in a prison,” she begins. “It’s got four walls and a locked door.”

“As opposed to six walls and two locked doors, like any normal prison cell.”

“As opposed to anything — how does the man get free?”

Stephen squints. “Does he have his sling-ring?”

She rolls her eyes. “No. Let’s say he’s lost it.”

“Ah, so he’s an idiot — that’ll make escaping harder.” He grins; the beard lends it a certain touch of guile. “What’s the door made from?”

“Iron,” Christine says. “And the walls are made from rock.”

“As is the floor, I’m guessing.”

“You’d be guessing correctly.”

“He should look in his pockets for something to pick the lock with, then — or something he can alchemize the carbon from. Did you know gunpowder only has three ingredients?”

“No such luck, wizard. They took his old clothes from him before they put him in prison.”

“How many Saturday morning cartoons has he watched? He can go out through the window on one of those bedsheet ropes.”

“There’s no windows in the cell, either. Or bedsheets.”

“I’m fairly certain that’s against the Geneva Convention. Was Grandma Palmer a war criminal, by any chance?”

“No sling-rings, no lock picks, no windows, no bedsheets, no magic — and this was Grandma Reisert’s riddle, not Grandma Palmer. She’s the one who kept asking me why you don’t go by ‘Stevie.’” She shoves him lightly in the chest. “Try again, smart-ass.”

“Oh, I don’t know — the man lays his hands on the stones and commands that they be made into bread.”

“Does he?” [...]  “But then the stones would answer back that a man doesn’t live by bread alone, wouldn’t they?”

[...]. “Does the prison have a ceiling?”

She smiles. 

“It doesn’t,” she says, “and the man realizes he’s got wings.”

“Kind of a hard detail to miss, wouldn’t you say?”

“Not really. People do it all the time.”

[...]“That’s true,” he says, in a voice that sounds somewhat thicker than before. “There’s your answer, then — the prison has no ceiling and the guy’s got wings. Simple enough.”

“In a way. The hardest part is probably just getting him to look past the locked door.”

“But does he, eventually?”

Christine puts her hands onto the Cloak’s collar. 

Thanks for choosing him, she would like to tell it, in spite of the fact that it has neither the ears nor the temporal lobe to hear her with. Thanks for protecting him. Thanks for catching him when he falls, which I know he probably does a lot. 

“He does,” she says, “so he flies.”

[yinyuszi]

don't you love it whenever riddle does the thing™

original meme

[skyephobic]

🐙🌹 HAPPY BIRTHDAY 🌹🐙

[wafflesex]

So while Riddle fawns over seashells he says are as bright as cherries, Floyd says that he’s used to the sight of them, and also says that colors appear duller the deeper underwater you go. So such vibrant colors on land don’t appear the same back home.

So I just realized:

Red appears dull and black at around 150 feet underwater…

… so when Floyd first met Riddle on land, Riddle could have been the most brilliant shock of red he’s ever seen in his entire life.

To Floyd, Riddle must have looked–and might still look–Absolutely Stunning.

[ryllen]

 𓆟 𓆞 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚…

" of course you'd love the rain " x

[akanothere]

Fanart for Peremo chapter 27 by @virennias

PLEASE READ I CAN’T TELL HOW OBSESSED I AM WITH THIS FIC THIS TOM IS ONE OF THE WORST (EVIL) TOMS EVER EXISTED AHHHHHHHHHH😩😩😩😩😩❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

[twistiraki]

🎀The Twisted Wonderland housewardens save you from your bullies 🎀

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗ TᗯIᔕTEᗪ ᗯOᑎᗪEᖇᒪᗩᑎᗪ Characters Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus x F!Reader Warnings bullying ‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

The cold, oppressive atmosphere of Night Raven College bore witness to the relentless cruelty inflicted upon Y/n by the three Savanaclaw students. They were a toxic trio, reveling in the sadistic pleasure of tormenting the lone soul who dared to be different.

In the shadows of the twisting corridors, the bullies cornered Y/n with malevolent grins and whispered taunts. "Look who we have here, the little misfit," sneered one of them, his words dripping with disdain.

Y/n, a stoic figure determined to withstand the onslaught, clenched her teeth, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing her crack. The leader of the tormentors, a sinister figure with a twisted smile, circled her like a predator closing in on its prey.

"What's the matter, Y/n? Cat got your tongue?" another jeered, causing the trio to burst into mocking laughter. The echoes of their cruelty resonated through the desolate halls, amplifying Y/n's isolation.

Their torment wasn't limited to words alone; the bullies seized every opportunity to strip Y/n of her dignity. One day, they snatched her bag, rifling through its contents like scavengers pillaging a carcass. They tossed her belongings carelessly on the cold floor, savoring the sight of her distress.

On another occasion, the trio targeted Y/n during a public event, exploiting the vulnerability of the crowded space. They humiliated her with disparaging remarks, their malicious words cutting through the air like a relentless storm. Y/n, standing alone amidst the sea of indifferent faces, fought back tears, unwilling to grant them the satisfaction of witnessing her vulnerability.

The torment escalated when the bullies, driven by an insidious desire to break her spirit, attempted to steal Y/n's clothing. The malicious intent behind their actions was clear, pushing her to the brink of despair.

In that harrowing moment, as they tugged at the fabric that shielded her from their malicious intent, Y/n's defenses crumbled. The tears she had fought so hard to contain spilled over, marking her surrender to the relentless darkness that engulfed her.

The bullies reveled in their perceived victory, their laughter echoing like a haunting melody. Y/n, now defenseless and broken, sank to her knees, a shattered reflection of the person she used to be.

Yet, as the trio reveled in their malevolence, the distant echo of approaching footsteps disrupted their sadistic revelry… 

The cold corridors of Night Raven College seemed to intensify as the bullies' attention shifted from Y/n to the unexpected intruder, Riddle Rosehearts. The leader of the trio, emboldened by a sense of defiance, sneered, "What's the Heartslabyul housewarden doing, playing the hero? Is this your new pet project, Rosehearts?"

Riddle's stern expression remained steadfast, a protective shield against the barbs directed his way. "I'm enforcing the rules, something you three seem to have forgotten. Now, leave her alone," he retorted, his tone laced with an unyielding edge.

The bullies, undeterred by the stern warning, turned their attention to Riddle, attempting to humiliate him in the same manner they had targeted Y/n. "Maybe Rosehearts has a soft spot for misfits. Or is there something else going on here?" one of them jeered, a malicious glint in their eyes.

Riddle's gaze hardened, but he didn't allow their words to rattle him. Instead, he focused on Y/n, offering her his cape for warmth and comfort. "Ignore them," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm in the aftermath of the storm.

Y/n, still recovering from the emotional turmoil, met Riddle's eyes with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity. "Why are you helping me?" she asked, her vulnerability laid bare.

Riddle hesitated for a moment, his stern exterior cracking to reveal a hint of sincerity. "No one should be treated like that. Besides, it's my duty as the housewarden of Heartslabyul to enforce the rules," he replied, though the subtle inflection in his voice hinted at a deeper, unspoken truth.

As the bullies persisted in their attempts to tarnish Riddle's reputation, he remained resolute. However, the time for words had passed. With a swift and practiced motion, Riddle invoked his unique magic, "Off with your head," causing ethereal sparks to materialize and collar the bullies as a consequence for their actions.

The trio, now restrained by red head’s signature spell, looked to Riddle with shock and fear. He addressed them with an unwavering gaze. "Learn to respect others, or face the consequences," he declared, his authority unshaken.

Turning back to Y/n, Riddle offered a reassuring smile. "You don't have to worry about them anymore. Let me help you and walk you to your dorm," he said, a subtle undertone of warmth in his voice.

Riddle thought to himself that the bullies were right. He did have a soft spot for misfits. In particular this misfit. He had always liked Y/n. As they walked to Y/n’s dorm Riddle tried to hide his face, which was now as red as his hair.  

In the dimly lit corridor, Leona Kingscholar, the formidable housewarden of Savanaclaw, stood between Y/n and her tormentors. The atmosphere crackled with tension as the bullies, momentarily taken aback, decided to redirect their malice towards the imposing figure that stood before them.

"So, the sleepy lion decides to play the hero," one of the bullies sneered, attempting to mask their unease with false bravado.

Leona's emerald eyes narrowed, a low growl escaping his throat as he stared down the trio. "You've got a problem with how I do things?" he challenged, his voice a menacing rumble that reverberated through the corridor.

The bullies, perhaps underestimating the fierce resolve that lay beneath Leona's laid-back demeanor, stepped back. "Why are you protecting her? Got yourself a new little plaything, housewarden?" one of them jeered, a sinister grin stretching across their face.

Leona's expression darkened, his patience wearing thin. "I protect what's under my care. That's all you need to know," he replied, his words carrying an implicit warning that sent shivers down the spines of the tormentors.

Undeterred, the bullies attempted to taunt him further, their words laced with a futile attempt at intimidation. "Maybe you've got a crush on her, huh?" another one jeered.

Leona's growl intensified, his dominant aura radiating an almost tangible threat. "You're pushing your luck, buddy" he warned, his gaze flickering dangerously.

As the tension escalated, Leona stepped forward, looming over the bullies with an imposing stature that left them visibly unsettled. "Consider this your only warning. Cross me again, and you'll regret it," he asserted, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

The bullies, realizing the gravity of their situation, hastily retreated, their bravado shattered in the face of Leona's unwavering dominance. As they fled the scene, fear etched across their faces, Leona turned his attention back to Y/n.

"You alright?" he asked, the harsh edges of his demeanor softening as he surveyed her. Y/n, still reeling from the confrontation, nodded silently.

Leona, surprising even himself with the depth of his concern, took a step closer. His hand gently cupped Y/n's cheek, his touch surprisingly tender. "I hate to see this pretty face upset," he murmured to himself, his voice a low, soothing rumble.

As the lion helped pick up Y/n’s stuff from the ground, the situation made him angrier and angrier. He’s going to make sure to teach those punks a lesson tomorrow morning during training.”Got yourself a new little plaything?” those words lingering in Leona’s head. Plaything. He scoffs at the idea. Y/n is so much more than that…

In the dimly lit corridors of Night Raven College, the relentless torment aimed at Y/n had attracted the attention of Azul Ashengrotto. As he intervened to protect her, the bullies, recognizing the charismatic housewarden from Octavinelle, shifted their focus to the unexpected adversary.

"Looks like we've got ourselves a hero," one of the bullies scoffed, a malicious glint in his eyes. The leader, emboldened by the presence of a new target, attempted to humiliate Azul. "What's your game, Ashengrotto? Trying to play the savior for this loser?"

Azul's gaze remained unfazed, his smooth composure undeterred. "I suggest you mind your own business," he retorted, his voice carrying a subtle warning. However, the bullies, now fueled by audacity, turned their attention to Y/n once more.

In the face of the renewed onslaught, Azul stepped forward, shielding Y/n with a protective stance. "It seems you're mistaken," he said, directing his attention to Y/n. "This isn't about playing the hero. No one deserves to be treated like this."

The bullies, sensing an unexpected vulnerability in Azul's defense of Y/n, attempted to exploit it. "What's the matter, Ashengrotto? You fancy this loser here?" they sneered, hoping to provoke a reaction.

Azul's gaze flickered, a subtle hint of discomfort betraying his composed exterior. However, he quickly regained his confidence, addressing Y/n with a more reassuring tone. "Don't pay them any mind. Let me take care of this."

Turning back to the bullies, Azul's expression hardened. "You might want to reconsider your actions. I have quite a bit of dirt on both of you, and I'm not afraid to use it. And let's not forget about the Leech Twins—they're always hungry for interesting tidbits."

The mention of the Leech Twins sent a shiver down the bullies' spines, their confidence crumbling in the face of potential repercussions. Sensing their defeat, they slinked away, leaving Azul and Y/n in the now empty corridor.

Azul turned back to Y/n, his usual confidence giving way to a more genuine concern. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice softer now. "Trash like them need people like us to torment, to make themselves feel better.”

Y/n, still reeling from the emotional turmoil, nodded appreciatively. Azul continued to guide her to the Mostro lounge, knowing she will be safe there. His touch was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the commanding presence he displayed moments ago.

As they navigated the halls together, Azul couldn't help but feel a twinge of awkwardness. He was normally confident and composed, but Y/n's presence seemed to unravel his polished exterior. He knows all too well what it’s like to be treated like that. And the thought that Y/n had to endure the same thing made him want to protect her more. Like a precious pearl he can’t stand to share with anyone.

In the dimly lit corridors of Night Raven College, Kalim Al-Asim's radiant presence cast a warm glow that contrasted with the shadows of cruelty that clung to the bullies tormenting Y/n. As Kalim approached the scene, unaware of the tension, he couldn't fathom the depths of their malicious intent.

"Hey, what's going on here?" Kalim's voice echoed with genuine curiosity, a beacon of positivity in the oppressive atmosphere.

The leader of the bullies sneered, seizing the opportunity to redirect their malevolence. "Well, well, if it isn't the Scarabian sun himself. What's it to you, Kalim? Lost your little guard dog?"

Kalim chuckled, oblivious to their attempts at humiliation. "Nah, I was just passing by. Just got back from the pop music club. What's got you so worked up?"

Unperturbed, the bullies turned around to face Kalim, attempting to exploit the vulnerability they perceived in his sunny disposition. "Oh, look, he's trying to play the hero. Say, does the housewarden of Scarabia like this little misfit?."

Y/n, still reeling from the earlier torment, looked at Kalim with a mixture of gratitude and surprise. Kalim, however, beamed back, seemingly unaffected by their insinuations.

"What? Well, who wouldn't want to be friends with someone as amazing as Y/n?" Kalim responded, his sincerity disarming in its authenticity.

The bullies persisted, their cruel words attempting to chip away at Kalim's unwavering spirit. "Heh. Do you hear that, Y/n? There’s finally someone willing to put up with your pathetic act of a personality! I guess our little otter here is too stupid to see how worthless you are."

It was when they directed their malice back at Y/n, their words a venomous assault, that Kalim's carefree demeanor faltered. His eyes narrowed, the red glow dimming as a protective instinct took hold.

"Enough is enough," Kalim asserted, his voice carrying an unexpected edge. "You don't get to treat people like this."

Undeterred, the bullies persisted, casting disparaging remarks at both Kalim and Y/n. In response, Kalim maintained his composure, shielding Y/n from the verbal onslaught with unwavering resolve.

When the bullies continued to escalate the situation, Kalim took charge. "That's it. We're done here," he declared, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. He offered a hand to Y/n, helping her to her feet with a reassuring touch.

"Let's get you out of here," Kalim suggested, handing Y/n her scattered belongings. "If you ever feel unsafe, Jamil and I are here for you."

The unease in the bullies' expressions was palpable as they realized their words didn’t affect their targets anymore. Kalim's protective stance and genuine concern for Y/n had disrupted their cruel narrative.

As the bullies slinked away, annoyed by the outcome, Kalim escorted Y/n back to Scarabia. Their walk was filled with moments of comforting silence, punctuated by Kalim's attempts to lighten the mood with his infectious laughter. When Y/n finally gave him a smile back he perked up. “It’s so nice to see you smile again!” The sight gave him new confidence to land a kiss on Y/n’s cheek. 

Within the dark corridors of Night Raven College, the tormentors faced an unexpected obstacle in their pursuit of cruelty: Vil Schoenheit. As the charismatic figure stepped into the scene, the bullies exchanged uneasy glances, momentarily thrown off balance by the interference.

"Are you so starved for attention that you resort to tormenting others?" Vil's voice, laced with disdain, sliced through the air. His steely gaze met the bullies', challenging them to proceed.

However, their malevolence knew no bounds. Unwilling to be deterred, the bullies redirected their scorn towards Vil, attempting to humiliate him for daring to protect Y/n. "Look at this, the pretty prince thinks he can play hero. What, do you like the little misfit?" one of them jeered, the venom in his words aimed at both Vil and Y/n.

Vil, however, remained unfazed, ignoring their attempts to provoke him. Instead, he focused on Y/n, helping her up with a gentleness that contradicted the harsh reality they were facing. His fingers delicately corrected her clothing, fixed her tie, and smoothed her tousled hair. Vil's eyes met hers, a silent reassurance passing between them.

"Pay them no mind," he whispered, his breath brushing against Y/n's ear, a gesture that held an undercurrent of intimacy. "They thrive on our reactions."

The bullies, frustrated by Vil's indifference, resorted to physically assaulting Y/n, grabbing her by the shoulder. Before their cruelty could escalate further, Vil's hand shot out like a viper, gripping the offender's wrist with an intimidating strength.

"It's in your best interest to leave," Vil asserted, his voice low and threatening. "I won't tolerate such behavior. Choose wisely."

The bullies, now cowed by the unexpected turn of events, hastily retreated, leaving Vil and Y/n in the aftermath of their confrontation.

Vil escorted Y/n to his dorm, a haven away from the oppressive bullying that had sought to consume her. Inside his room, he offered her a seat and gently handed her a towel, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

"Take your time," Vil said softly, his hands meticulously tending to a small cut on Y/n's cheek. "You deserve better than the cruelty of those einzellers."

As Vil carefully cleaned the remnants of the bullying, his thoughts betrayed the secret that he harbored in the depths of his heart. He cared deeply for Y/n, and every gentle touch, every word of reassurance, echoed the silent confession he dared not speak aloud.

"You deserve to be treated with kindness," he murmured. “Just make sure to stay by my side, Y/n.”

The dimly lit corridor was transformed into a battleground as Idia Shroud stepped forward, his normally reserved demeanor overshadowed by an unexpected fierceness. The bullies, accustomed to preying on the vulnerable, saw an opportunity to assert dominance over someone they perceived as even weaker — the introverted Idia.

"You think you can protect her?" one of the bullies taunted, a malicious smirk on his face. "What's the weakling going to do?"

Idia, his disheveled hair falling over his determined eyes, stood defiantly, shielding Y/n from the impending storm. The bullies, sensing a perceived vulnerability, closed in on the pair, their laughter echoing through the corridor.

"Why are you even bothering, Shroud? What's in it for you?" another bully jeered, the air thick with arrogance.

Y/n's heart sank, anticipating the onslaught of mockery that was about to befall them both. Idia, feeling the weight of their poisonous words, clenched his fists, his usual anxiety exacerbated by the confrontation.

"Why would someone like you bother to protect her?" another bully chimed in, his tone dripping with contempt. "She's not worth it, and you're just making yourself look like more of a loser."

The bullies, emboldened by their perceived victory, closed in on Idia and Y/n. The pressure intensified, and Y/n's distress became palpable. Idia, however, couldn't bear to see her suffer any longer.

In a moment of unexpected defiance, the blue flames in Idia's hair intensified, shifting to a fiery orange. The air crackled with newfound energy as Idia's eyes blazed with determination. He had reached his breaking point.

"What do you know about worth?" Idia snapped, his usually timid voice cutting through the tension like a samurai sword. "You think you can just waltz around, tormenting others without consequence? Well, think again."

The bullies, now faced with an Idia they hadn't anticipated, faltered as he unleashed a verbal onslaught more cutting than their own. "You want to mock me? Fine. But lay off her. You have no idea what it's like to be her, to carry the weight of your cruelty every day."

As his words hung in the air, Idia's threat escalated. "And if you don't back off right now, I'll make sure your precious devices become my playground. Hacking is my specialty, and trust me, I can make your lives a living nightmare."

The bullies, genuinely frightened by the unexpected turn of events, retreated in haste, leaving Idia and Y/n alone in the aftermath of the confrontation. As the echoes of their footsteps faded, Idia's fiery aura subsided, returning to the familiar blue and turned his attention to Y/n.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softening as he reached out to gently wipe away the tears that still clung to her cheeks.

Y/n nodded, a mixture of gratitude and admiration in her eyes. "Thank you, Idia. I didn't expect..."

Idia cut her off with a dismissive wave. "It's not like I did it for you or anything. I just couldn't stand their stupidity."

As the tension eased, Idia reverted to his introverted self, a visible anxiety settling over him. "I... um, well, I should go. Just forget about it," he mumbled, glancing away.

But as he turned to leave, Y/n caught his hand. "Idia, wait. Thank you," she said, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "You didn't have to do that, but you did."

Idia's eyes met hers, a subtle warmth beneath the layers of his usual aloofness. "Just don't make it a habit of needing my help," he quipped, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. Even though those words escaped his blue lips, in his heart he hoped that Y/n would come to him in her days of need. 

In the gloomy halls of Night Raven College, the three Savanaclaw bullies tried to justify their actions as mere play, their voices faltering under Malleus Draconia's piercing gaze. "We were just messing around, no harm intended," one of them stammered, attempting to downplay the cruelty they had inflicted upon Y/n.

Malleus, his patience exhausted, snapped his fingers. In an instant, the bullies were suspended above the ground. The Diasomnia housewarden wasted no time; his eyes met Y/n's, and the look on her face spoke volumes. This was not mere play; it was torment.

Outside, the atmosphere shifted, echoing Malleus's wrath. Lightning flashed, and thunder roared, a visceral manifestation of the storm brewing within him. The bullies, now terrified, were at the mercy of the fae prince's judgment.

With a graceful motion Malleus offered Y/n a hand to help her up. The warmth of his touch was a stark contrast to the chilling air of the college. "Are you hurt?" he asked, genuine concern evident in his eyes.

Y/n shook her head, grateful for Malleus's intervention. As they stood together, the fae prince surveyed the bullies with a cold, calculating gaze. "Explain yourselves," he demanded, his voice like the rumble of distant thunder.

The bullies, now realizing the gravity of their actions, stumbled over their words. Malleus's patience waned, and with another snap of his fingers, he immobilized them once more, this time freezing their levitating bodies.

Turning back to Y/n, Malleus took a step closer, his eyes softening as he surveyed the emotional toll the ordeal had taken on her. "I can make them feel the pain they inflicted upon you, Y/n," he offered, his voice low and filled with restrained fury.

Y/n, however, shook her head again, her eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and reluctance. "No, Malleus. I don't want that."

Respecting her wishes, Malleus released the bullies, who fell to the ground with a thud before scrambling to flee. The housewarden, however, wasn't finished. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned Y/n's scattered belongings, collecting them with a gentle sweep of his hand.

"Allow me," he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers as he gathered her things. Malleus, his expression softening, lifted Y/n into his arms, carrying her bridal style.

As they navigated the corridors, Malleus's gaze remained on Y/n, a silent promise of protection and comfort. "No one should be subjected to such cruelty," he stated, his voice a low growl.

Once they reached a more secluded spot, Malleus gently set Y/n down. "If ever you need someone to shield you from the shadows, know that I am here," he confessed, his eyes revealing the depth of his emotions.

The lingering thunder outside echoed the storm within Malleus, but his gaze softened, and a hint of vulnerability appeared as he regarded Y/n. "Do you feel safe now?"

Y/n nodded “T-thank you, Malleus… You’re my savior.” Upon seeing her smile Malleus felt his worries wash away. To reflect this new found emotion the storms outside seem to lay down, making way for the sun to reveal its face once again. Malleus kneeled before her, cupping her face in his hand. “I won’t let anyone harm you ever again.”

[horrorknife]

babe, this wouldn't be the first time it will not be the last time there's no parasol that could shelter this weather

[imaybe5tupid]

Why bother? (Why bother?) It's gonna hurt me. (It's gonna hurt me.) It's gonna kill when- (Why bother!) -You desert me! (Gonna hurt me!)

Set after Nightmare. Laios is reminiscing and contemplating.

[merakiui]

Nerdy Vil definitely pushes thkse glasses up his nose before calling you both ugly *and* stupid 😭 but before you know it, he's taking them off to rest them on his nightstand and suck your soul out of your coochie 😭

AAAAAA OTL nerdy Vil……… Vil who always has his nose in his potions book…… spending most of his time in the alchemy lab mixing up all kinds of poisons and whatnot. You think he’s so uptight and annoying, always so critical over everything you do. To think that smart mouth of his can leave you a sobbing, shaking mess as he coaxes yet another orgasm from you.

Maybe the both of you are academic rivals.... oh, to be competing alongside Vil for the spot of Pomefiore Housewarden........ the two of you trying so hard to best the other and make the strongest, most effective poison. Maybe the competition doesn't even matter to you anymore. You just like feuding with Vil.

Academic tension so grand it leads to the best hate sex of your life.

[cubeberries]

tomarrymort trope where harry has to wear voldemort's cloak because he's cold and it's wayyy too big for him, absolutely massive, he's drowning in it, and voldemort may or may not have murdered someone not too long ago while wearing the same cloak.

[nina-scribbles]

It’s time for your debut, Tom.

[edorazzi]

More Thunderbirds Are Go! 💖

I really wanted a big, detailed piece with the boys so I've been working on this for a good bit. Gotta drag Dad's ancient TV out for a traditional movie night every once in a while! 🍿💕

[aubadeduflamek]

Happy birthday Riddle!! 🌹

[lightningfilledsaber]

can we talk about how autistic Kabru is too I've been dying to talk about how autistic Kabru is

[ryllen]

shock and bind brothers