#manipulative voldemort

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

It happens by chance, and while Harry wishes it hadn’t, this will at least clear up any lingering uncertainty for him.

There’s a skirmish between Harry and some friends from the Order and Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and a couple stray curses happen to catch him – one slices shallowly into his upper arm, the other sends him rolling across the ground. The upshot of this is that the left shoulder of Harry’s shirt is now in ribbons and hanging down around his waist, leaving his chest – and soul mark – bare to the world. Including Voldemort.

Who looks like he’s having one doozy of an emotion.

And that basically confirms the dark wizard hadn’t known, but right now Harry’s bleeding sluggishly and wants to go home and have a drink and pass out for at least a few hours, so Voldemort can rage on his own time. Everyone else from his side has already buggered off, so he’s not abandoning anyone if he does the same.

Unfortunately, the blood loss – while not severe – is enough to slow his reaction time, which leads to him apparating himself and the Dark Lord latched onto him to his flat. Not ideal.

There are a tense few moments of staring at the snake man, waiting to see if he’ll attack or start destroying Harry’s home, but when he doesn’t take advantage – when he just stares and frowns and stares some more – Harry decides he’s too tired for this shit.

“You are just impossible to ward out, aren’t you?” he sighs. The curse of being so physically and magically intertwined with the other man. (Well. And at the soul level, too, but he tries not to think of that.)

Voldemort yanks him by his uninjured arm towards the kitchen light that comes on automatically and stares at Harry’s chest, and the elegantly written Tom Marvolo Riddle thereupon.

Harry scowls when the staring drags on. “Oi, could you quit perving on me and piss off already?”

“You were never going to tell me?” Voldemort demands, ignoring Harry’s half-arsed attempt at distraction.

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “Why the Hel would I? Either you already knew and it didn’t matter to you, or you didn’t – and I wasn’t about to risk baring my soul to someone who has a history of wanting me dead.” He shrugs. “I’m reckless, not suicidal.”

Voldemort opens his mouth with an angrily indignant look, and Harry looks to the ceiling for patience before pulling out of the other man’s grip and opening his emergency bottle of firewhiskey, hidden in the pantry, because this conversation needs alcohol. He pours two glasses (his to the brim) because he tries to be a good host, even to the bane of his existence. And if Voldemort doesn’t want it, well, it’ll save Harry getting the bottle out again.

All throughout this, Voldemort is ranting at him. Harry tunes most of it out – he’s had to hear enough of the man’s monologues to know he doesn’t need to listen to the preamble; the meat of his diatribe won’t come until a couple minutes in, at least.

After he casts a quick episkey on the cut on his arm, Harry leans against the counter, watching Voldemort pace around his modest kitchen. He takes a long, slow drink, welcoming the fire flowing down his throat and warming his belly. And either the other man is taking even longer than usual to get to the point or Harry’s more exhausted and irritable than he’d thought, because he’s suddenly completely out of patience with this situation.

He cuts in boredly, “It’s not like it changes anything. It doesn’t matter.”

Voldemort is immediately before him, looming and enraged. “It matters to me!”

“Why?”

“I’ve waited decades for you,” he says vehemently, leaning closer in an attempt to physically intimidate or pin Harry in place.

Harry barks a harsh laugh. “You waited for a fantasy. You’ve spent my whole life killing and hurting the people most important to me. Some silly mark doesn’t change that – it doesn’t make it better, it won’t make me love you.” He takes a sip and rasps through the burn. “It won’t change who you are.”

“I never received a mark–”

“And that’s unfortunate. Clearly it affected you. But plenty of people don’t get soul marks and they don’t commit mass murder and incite civil wars.” He gives Voldemort a dismissive look, standing up straight and slipping out from between the dark wizard and the counter. He can almost hear the other man grinding his teeth. 

“You have no idea what it’s like, not having a mark,” Voldemort hisses caustically, face contorted in a furious snarl. “The contempt, the ridicule I had to endure. I was denied one of Magic's basic gifts and they took it as proof they were better than me, those worthless fools.”

It’s difficult to know how he would’ve reacted to not having a mark. His burden has been to have the mark of the worst possible person, and he thinks he’s handled it far better than anyone could’ve expected of him. Having no mark would’ve confirmed that he’s meant to be alone, that there’s no one out there meant just for him, but having Voldemort’s mark as Harry Potter essentially means the same thing.

“Maybe you mutilated your soul too much to deserve a mark,” Harry says in a fit of cruelty. Behind the wrath crackling in the other man’s eyes, he can see the misery bloom. As good as it feels to score a hit against Voldemort, he regrets it even more. And isn’t that the exact reason why this damn war has dragged on for so long?

(Harry pushes that thought away wearily.)

“You had choices, Voldemort, and you made yours,” he says quietly but firmly. “I’m making mine, and it’s that I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“This is not a unilateral decision,” Voldemort says, the frustration in his tone edging close to desperation. “Do my wants mean nothing?”

"Your wants." Harry slams his almost empty glass down on the table; his voice comes out dangerously even. “Alright then. Can you bring my parents back to life? No? How about Cedric, or Sirius, or any of the dozens of others whose lives you’ve cut short?”

Voldemort’s mouth is pinched shut, a thunderous frown on his face.

“Hel, let’s start small. Stop this war, swear to never harm another person and get your followers to do the same. You want me to care about what you want? Start by addressing all of that.”

“You ask this of me and promise nothing in return?” Voldemort says bitterly.

“That’s the bare minimum it would take for me to see you as anything more than a murderous, blood-supremacist monster. And I honestly don’t think you can do it, but feel free to prove me wrong.”

That puts an unsettling gleam in the other man’s eyes. Harry thinks back on what he might’ve said to cause that reaction and feels his stomach drop. Oh bother. He’d challenged Voldemort. Harry knows exactly how he'd react to someone saying that; apparently Voldemort is equally competitive (and motivated by spite – he should’ve guessed that).

“...If I am able to–”

“You won’t–”

“When I fulfill your requirements,” Voldemort arrogantly says, face intense. “You and I will explore our connection, and you will meet with me frequently to do so.”

And now Harry is in a quandary. If Voldemort does what he’s been asked, Harry will have achieved what he’s been fighting for all six years of his adult life; if Voldemort doesn’t, Harry’s no worse off than he was before. And he knows the dark wizard won’t give up his cause simply because his soulmate asked, but if Voldemort does…

“You do realise that your soulmate is me, yeah?” Harry clarifies, unnerved by the shift in the other man's demeanour. “You don’t like me. At all.”

“Nonsense,” Voldemort says, waving off Harry’s really very logical point. “We simply haven’t had a chance to become properly acquainted.”

“...Because you’re always trying to kill me.”

“Details, details.” 

Harry would very much like to strangle the megalomaniac who is still in his apartment. “...Uh-huh. Sure, you become a completely different person and we’ll talk.”

He sometimes forgets that magic occasionally disregards sarcasm. This appears to be one of those times, as the heaviness in the air snaps tight around them, signifying Harry’s flippant “sure” just turned this discussion into a magically binding agreement. Merlin’s pierced nipples. So much for intent over phrasing.

Catching sight of Voldemort’s smug smirk, Harry suddenly feels genuinely homicidal for the first time in his life. Sensing his non-existent welcome is well and truly worn out, Voldemort says, “I look forward to it,” and apparates away. Harry pitches a cushion through the space the dark wizard just occupied. It helps settle his irritation a little.

He drops onto his couch with a deep, bone-tired sigh and tosses back Voldemort’s untouched glass of firewhiskey. 

He wonders if he’ll feel disappointed or relieved when Voldemort realises he’d rather keep trying to subjugate Magical Britain than have Harry as his soulmate.

Three days later, the war ends.

[evenstar0600]

DECEPTION | t.riddle

IN WHICH: lucius malfoy never put tom riddle's diary in ginny weasley's cauldron. instead, history puts a twist on the events and the diary is put on a shelf in flourish and blott's, only to be picked up by an unsuspecting, muggleborn witch in hufflepuff; sixteen-year-old (Name) Tyler.

PAIRING: tom riddle x afab!hufflepuff reader

WARNINGS: dark/yandere(?), mind control, manipulation, animal death, murder, hypnotism, tom riddle is a warning on his own, mental breakdowns, insanity, lady macbeth arc(?), character death, etc

Your hands were shaking. They'd been doing that a lot lately. The skin around your fingernails was red raw and bleeding, due you picking them from stress. Your pupils were blown-wide yet had a distant look to them, as if you weren't in the moment itself at all.

Desparately, you tried to scrub the blood stains that wouldn't go away. They wouldn't wash off. You felt like you were going insane. Like you were losing your mind. How the fuck had it come to this? You knew exactly how it'd all come to this.

It was a dreary August day in the summer of 1992. And your parents decided to take you back-to-school shopping in Diagon Alley for your sixth year at Hogwarts. You recalled going into Flourish and Blott's, dodging through the ever-growing line to see the infamous Gilderoy Lockhart, whom you paid no mind.

You'd spied the even-more infamous Harry Potter in the line somewhere. You were more focused on obtaining your school books for this year when you'd caught sight of it in your peripheral vision. The diary. The vintage-looking, leather-bound diary with it's worn exterior and its off-white parchment pages. And the three-word name at the bottom in a gold-colour. Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Something scorched the back of your mind as helpless fingers plucked the diary off the shelf and into your cauldron with a clatter. To others, it was an unnoticed background noise but in your delirium, it sounded like the rolling East Winds of the storm last week. Crashing and forcing itself to be heard. You didn't want to take it but something beyond your control forced you to take it.

For the first couple of days back at Hogwarts, you'd neglected to write in it. Then you did. On the 9th of September, you finally wrote in it. The classic sentence starter of Dear Diary. Then came the reply. Hello (Name) Tyler. You adored Tom and wrote to him as often as you could.

Between classes. During lessons. During meals. After your dorm mates had gone to sleep. Then you began to experience the black-outs. One minute you were walking between classes; the next you found yourself near Hagrid's hut, robes drenched in a strange, crimson substance.

Your mind tried to deny it, the very fact, trying to convince you it was red ink or paint. But in your heart you knew the truth. You were covered in blood. The blood of the school roosters. And the guilt began to slowly eat you up. Consuming your heart. Clouding your mind. Until you began to soothe your madness by writing to your sweet Tom and picking the skin around your fingernails until it bled.

The same sinful red as the roosters' blood. Then the attacks followed swiftly. First, Filch's cat, Mrs Norris was petrified by the Basilik that you set loose on the school. You warned them. Writing the message in blood on the wall. The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir beware.

The victims of the Basiliks' petrification began to pile up. Sir Nicholas. Colin Creevey. Justin Finch-Fletchley. Penelope Clearwater. Hermione Granger. And it was all your fault. You'd condemned them to their fates. And the more paranoid you got. You'd hallucinate the blood on your hands. Scrubbing your hands for hours on end until they were red raw, just to get the fucking stain out.

You had your Tom to comfort you all. To soothe your ever-growing madness and paranoia. He'd appear to you sometimes. The tall, dark and handsome boy with his dark brown locks and insatiable smile. Then you figured it out. It was him. It was all him.

You'd pointed an accusatory finger at him, shaking like a leaf. "You..." you'd muttered in horror before meeting his piercing gaze with blown-wide pupils, "It's you!".

In a fleeted attempt to save yourself and anyone else, you stormed to the Girls' Lavatory on the third floor and threw the diary into the toilet. Thinking yourself safe, you relaxed. But you shouldn't have let your guard down. Tom had basically imprinted himself on you.

You always recalled his beautiful brown eyes piercing your soul, the very image was burnt into your memory. And no matter how many times you tried to forget, he always. came. back. You'd broken into Gryffindor Tower and basically ransacked the one of the Boys' Dormitories until you retrieved it.

Your diary.

You weren't yourself anymore. People around you noticed too. What happened to (Name)? Was something that was whispered among peers. Your bestfriend, Lily Peterson, had noticed too. You brushed her off, pushing her away. Then, tired of waiting, Tom summoned you down to the Chamber of Secrets.

His initial plan was to drain your life force so he could live again. But things changed. As the product of a love potion, he couldn't properly feel true, honest love but rather a warped version of it. Dark love. Obsessive love. Unjust love. His love was cruel. His touch was cruel. And he was cruel.

And you were his. No matter how you tried to stop him, you were always going to be his. "Mine," he'd murmur, holding your weak form against his own, carressing your face, "All mine,".

You'd tried to fight him off. But to no avail. You'd lost. Now, the world was going to feel Voldemort's wrath. And he'd start with the figure of twelve-year-old Harry Potter marching into the Chamber of Secrets.

[virgil-anon]

malewife manwhore manipulate tom marvolo riddle > gaslight gatekeep girlboss lord voldemort

The one true pipeline

[onlygoldwillsuffice]

Obfuscated

Tom Riddle x Reader

Read the second part here

Warnings: borderline stalking, ever so slightly suggestive toward the end, that's pretty much it (i think?)

Word Count: 1.5k+

Summary: Tom thinks you're far too pretty and perfect to not have any secrets.

Note - This is the first fanfic I've ever written, so be merciful please + the reader is written as a Ravenclaw, but you can imagine them as any house you please

Tom sauntered through the labyrinthine passageways of Hogwarts with a stride that exuded nothing less than confidence, his obsidian and emerald green robes billowing behind him like a regal banner. The susurrus of his peers’ opinions filled his ears as he walked by, the young ladies admiring his comely features and the young gentlemen sizing up his pompous attitude. Everyone knew he was quite a force to be reckoned with, including him. With his black, wavy hair and piercing dark eyes that seemed to hold the power to penetrate the depths of one's soul, he commanded attention wherever he went. But tonight, he could only be attentive to finding the new Ravenclaw transfer student, who he had a sinking feeling was beginning to become a cause for concern. 

He had been watching you ever since you arrived at the school. Your beauty was undeniable, but it was your sharp wit and intelligence that really intrigued him. He had watched you closely in class, noticing how you seemed to effortlessly outshine your peers, including himself at times. You were always answering questions and getting them right, constantly impressing the professors with your work, and easily making friends – rarely struggling in, well, anything. 

Tom was an expert in the art of perfection, and you were all too perfect for him to not be suspicious of you. Your aloofness only added to your allure, and he couldn’t help being drawn to you like a moth to a flame. However, being a Slytherin, he knew all too well the importance of upholding his reputation. He didn’t take kindly to anyone who threatened his position, especially not a fresh-faced witch who had yet to earn her stripes. 

Finally, after enduring five grueling months of practically stalking you, he stumbled upon something truly unexpected during his tedious prefect duty. While performing a routine inspection of the hallways, peculiar crackling noises caught his ear, emanating from a nearby storage closet. Luck was on his side as the door was partially ajar, granting him a glimpse of your illicit activity. He watched in amusement as you repeatedly cast the unforgivable Cruciatus Curse. 

Tom knew that he had to act quickly before anyone else found out about your actions just to make your future punishment extra hellish for you. He slipped away from the closet without making a sound, deep in thought. He understood he had to tread carefully, but he was determined to use this new knowledge to his advantage.

Perhaps he may have underestimated your potential, but he was a Slytherin, and he knew how to play the game.

_______________________________

As Tom sat in his classes, his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of how to confront you. He knew that he had to be cautious not to arouse suspicion, but he was determined to get to the bottom of the matter. Thanks to his constant surveillance of you, he learned that you always spent Wednesday nights at the astronomy tower, with special permission from the professor. This presented an opportunity for him to confront you privately without any interference.

Night fell, and Riddle made his way to the other side of the castle where the astronomy tower was, ensuring that no one saw him enter. He ascended up the astronomy tower, his steps were silent as he navigated the twisting staircases of Hogwarts. Upon reaching the summit, he saw you standing at the railing behind a large telescope, gazing out at the twinkling stars above. A sly smile spread across his lips as he cleared his throat, announcing his presence. “Good evening, Y/N. I hope I’m not disturbing you.” He couldn’t help but to flash a charming smile. After practising for so long, it came naturally, and he assumed it would win over your favour (as it does for everyone else). “I couldn’t resist the temptation of a starry night.”

You looked up at him through your thick lashes with a polite smile just enough to show acknowledgment, but you didn’t respond. Tom took a few steps to close some of the space between the two of you, eyes still fixed on you. “I wanted to discuss the potions assignment we were paired up on. I thought we could review the details together and make sure we’re both on the same page.” You turned back to the telescope with an annoyingly gorgeous unreadable expression. “I already finished the assignment, Tom. But if you’re struggling, I’d be happy to help.”

Tom felt his eyebrows knit together. You were already getting on his nerves.

“No, I’m not struggling. I just thought it would be good to compare notes and make sure we both did everything correctly.”

“Sure,” you replied plainly, giving nothing away. You hand him your papers, and he scarcely glances over them; he already knows your work is correct, and after all, this mundane assignment was merely an excuse to speak to you.

He cleared his throat again, trying to keep his voice casual. “I must admit, Y/N, I’m very impressed by your work. You seem to have quite the knack for potions.” You shrugged nonchalantly, still focusing on the stars through the telescope. “It’s just something I enjoy. It comes naturally to me.”

Tom continued, “I’m curious, Y/N,” “If you don’t mind me asking, what brings you to Hogwarts? Surely a young witch of your...talents...has many opportunities elsewhere?”

“I suppose,” you respond coolly, voice laced with ice. “But there is something special about Hogwarts, don’t you think? A certain...magic.” 

Tom’s suspicion only grew. “Well, it’s good to see that Ravenclaw has a promising new student,” he said smoothly, masking his suspicion. “Thanks.” You replied bluntly.

He waited for you to continue the conversation, but realised he was getting nowhere he wanted. He threw aside his original plan to approach you with caution and dropped the façade to expose the real reason he was talking to you.

Tom’s expression darkened, and he stared at you for a long and uncomfortable moment before finally speaking. “I saw you practising the Cruciatus curse last night, Y/N.” 

As he patiently waited to gauge your response, you only remained fixated on the task of making small adjustments to the telescope, leaving him puzzled by your lack of reaction. He had been right to keep a close eye on you. “I know it’s illegal to use the Unforgivable Curses outside of Auror training,” he continued, his voice low with a hint of danger. “What were you planning to do with it?” 

Slowly, you shifted to meet his gaze, your face a blank canvas of emotions. "Tom, I fail to see how it’s any of your business?” Tom felt his anger simmering just beneath the surface. He had always prided himself on being in control of his emotions, but you were testing his patience. “It is my business if you’re planning to cause harm to someone at this school. I won’t let that happen.”

You raised an eyebrow, unfazed by his threat. “And what makes you think I would use it for harm?”

“Isn’t that the only reason to use the Cruciatus Curse?” Tom spat back.

“Maybe that’s what you think, but I see the Cruciatus Curse as a tool, and like any tool, it can be used for both good and bad. It’s all about the intention behind it.”, you replied. “I believe that it’s important to have a full understanding of all forms of magic, even the dark ones. It’s only by understanding them that we can learn how to defend ourselves against them, wouldn’t you agree?” 

Unbeknownst to him, all the watching he did over you made you become aware of his presence and allowed you to see a little show of your own. “Besides, you’re not the only one to have seen questionable behaviour. Aren’t I right, Mr. Parseltongue?” 

Tom’s eyes narrowed at the mention of his Parseltongue ability. It was something he had always kept secret, something that made him feel both powerful and isolated. He didn’t appreciate you bringing it up, especially not in this context. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said through gritted teeth. 

This time you stepped closer to him, your scent intoxicating him. “Oh, don’t be so dismissive, Tom. I know about your special gift. It’s not every day that one encounters a Parseltongue.” 

His unwavering gaze bore into you, his face set in a rigid expression as he remained silent.

“Very well, Tom. But be warned, not everything is as it seems. You may find the knowledge you seek, but you may not like what you discover,” you say before turning on your heel and walking back to your common room for the night, leaving him to expend in his frustration.

Never before had anyone dared to speak to the young man who rules over Hogwarts with an iron fist in such a manner. With a venomous glint in his eye, he vowed to himself that it would be the first and last time that such insolence would be tolerated. He’ll make sure you learn the hard way that there were consequences for crossing him, and he relished the thought of watching you regret your words.

[cardansriddle]

faded ink of the fated (part 2) - tom riddle

part 1

A/N: Apologies for the wait, but here is the second and last part for faded ink! it took a bit of a darker turn than I initially had planned but I think I'm satisfied with it. let me know what you think!

Warnings: None.

༻♛༺

"How do you know he is your soulmate if he does not have a tattoo?" Alice inquired as she sat behind you with crossed legs, brushing through your hair with slow, deliberate movements. "I mean, what if he is tricking you? How can you—"

"Alice." You warned her sternly and she immediately quietened. With a heavy sigh, you turned to face her and her hands fell from your hair. "I can just feel it—feel him. I have no doubts about it, and neither should you." You said with a pointed look.

She lowered her eyes shamefully and you felt a twinge of guilt. "I just worry about you. Do you not think it is bizarre? Ever since you guys determined you are soulmates, he has not left you alone. It would be sweet if he was not so...so possessive about it." She expressed her thoughts slowly. 

You furrowed your brows in confusion. "He is not being possessive."

She shook her head in reply, as if in disbelief at your obliviousness. "You are blinded by him." That was all she said before she stood up from her spot on the couch and moved towards the stairs leading up to the dormitories. "Goodnight."

And just like that, you were left there, sitting in front of the crackling fire as doubtful thoughts swarmed your head. 

༻♛༺

It was the next day when you first noticed it. 

Tom was surrounded by his friends as they talked lowly with each other. You thought of calling out to him or even walking towards him, but you stopped in your tracks when the one you recognised as Rosier slightly bowed his head to Tom and muttered something about seeing him at midnight before walking away.

Yes, Tom Riddle was the Head Boy and yes, he was respected by the student population of Hogwarts— but bowing? Surely you were not back in the Middle Ages for such formalities between friends. 

Yet you did not think too much on it. Perhaps the Slytherin purebloods had their own aristocratic and outdated customs. Instead you left the safety of the shadows and revealed yourself in the hallway. Tom instantly sensed your presence and turned to look at you. You smiled at him, and without breaking your stare he dismissed his friends with a flick of his hand. 

"That looked like a quite intense conversation." You stated with a teasing tone as you approached one another. "I hope I did not interrupt." 

He smirked smugly as your hands slid around his neck and you rose on your toes to place a small peck on his lips. "Believe me, darling, this is a much welcome interruption." He murmured against your lips before capturing them with his own once again. Youn felt yourself drown in his kiss, the feeling of his lips against yours so blissful, that you wondered if you would ever get enough of it.

His hands tightened around your waist as he deepened your kiss and you pulled his hair instinctively. He groaned at the feeling before pulling away to attach his mouth to your jaw, kissing his way down to your neck.

"Tom." You breathed out, unable to form coherent thoughts with his hands and lips on you. "We are...fuck—we are in public." You managed to splutter. 

Though he remained unfazed and continued marking up your neck. "Tom." You repeated once more. "I have to meet Adrian, I will be late."

You felt him freeze and his body became tense in a matter of seconds. He pulled away slowly to look at your face with a speculative gaze. "Adrian?" He repeated slowly and for a brief moment you could have sworn you saw his eyes flash red.

"Yes. We have rounds together tonight. You know I cannot avoid my Prefect duties." 

He hummed lowly before dropping his hands and taking a step back from you. Something had changed in Tom's demeanour from the moment you had uttered the other boy's name and his behaviour was starting to worry you.

"I will see you later then." He concluded with a tight smile and with that he turned on his heel and walked away without a single glance back. 

༻♛༺

"Hey!" A male voice sounded from behind you as you got out of your last class for the day, and a second later your name was called by the same voice once more. 

You turned around, trying to identify the caller amongst the crowd of students that seemed to be rushing to get out of the classroom. You saw Adrian pushing his way through the students, elbowing and nudging everyone out of his way before he finally reached you. 

"You okay there?" You asked him as soon as he stood before you, jittering in his place. 

"Me? Oh yeah, perfect. Uh— I wanted to tell you that I had to switch partners for tonight's rounds. I have a— uh— an important matter I need to attend to and well, I think Mary would be a better company for you anyway—"

You cut off his rambling with a hand. "Stop. Take a breath." 

He halted and per your instruction, he took a deep breath before finally calming down and stopping his nervous fidgeting. You watched as he looked anywhere but at you and suddenly it hit you. 

"Did Tom ask you to switch?" 

His eyes met yours in a panicked state, which was enough of an answer for you. 

"He did." You answered your own question. He was about to open his mouth to speak, and noticing the absolute horror on his face, you decided to assure him. "Do not worry. I will not tell him anything." 

His body slumped in relief and he gave you a smile. "Thank you." 

"Have a nice day, Adrian. I'll see you in class." You said and as you turned around to leave, he suddenly grabbed your wrist. He looked around before lowering his head to speak with a hushed voice.

"I would be cautious around him if I were you. You do not know the things he does behind closed doors." And with that, he nodded goodbye to you and left, but his words kept echoing in your head as you stood alone in the corridor again. 

༻♛༺

You stood outside the classroom with unease as you mentally debated if this was a good idea. 

You and Tom had built a bridge of trust and understanding ever since you found out you are each other's soulmates, and you knew doing this would ignite that bridge and burn it down to ashes. 

But you were exhausted. Exhausted of being told to not trust your soulmate and exhausted of everyone knowing something you did not. 

So with one last deep breath, you took out your wand and nonverbally cast the spell on the door that separated you from Tom and his friends. 

And then you heard everything.

"Will you ever tell her?" A voice that you recognised as Malfoy's question.

Your brows furrowed in confusion. Tell who?

"With all due respect, I do not advise you to tell her. She does not seem to share the same...values as us." Rosier chimed in and your scepticism grew. 

The room went quiet and for a split second, you worried that you had been discovered eavesdropping. But then Tom spoke and your breath caught in your throat.

"Just because she is my soulmate does not mean she has to know everything, Malfoy." 

You flinched. He was hiding something from you, something that even his friends, your friends, did not want you to know. You were quite close with both, Rosier and Malfoy and this felt like a betrayal. 

"My lord—" 

What the fuck did he just call him?

"—either way she is bound to feel it when you split your soul again. Your connection might disappear. It is why you do not have the tattoo in the first place. I do not mean to overstep but—"

"Then I suggest you shut your mouth, Avery." Tom threatened, his tone so deadly, you felt a shiver run down your spine. 

You took a step back from the door in utter bewilderment, your hand coming up to your mouth to muffle the sob that escaped your throat. Tom had split his soul. He had used magic so dark, that his entire being had been tainted and his soulmark had disappeared. And that was not even the worse part. 

What you could not grasp was that he was planning on doing it again. 

Knowing that he could lose you.

"Immortality demands sacrifices."

You could not listen to this anymore. You backed away from the room, tears slipping down your cheek without your will and all you could feel was the agonising pain that seemed to crush your heart into pieces. 

༻♛༺

You skipped breakfast the next morning, choosing to sleep your pain away. Alice—bless her soul— had figured something was wrong, and knowing you well enough to understand you needed space, she had not bothered you. She had kissed your head before leaving, announcing that she would inform the professors that you were sick.

Yet as the time for dinner passed and you still stayed in your bed, you knew she would come back to ask questions. And you prepared yourself as you heard thumps on the stairs, knowing she would come in any second. 

"Riddle, back off!" You heard Alice yell angrily. 

"Where is she?!" 

Your heartbeat fastened. 

Tom was here. 

You sat up in a panic. 

"I told you she does not want to see you right now! Leave her be—"

"Get out of my way before I make you." He threatened in a tone you had now grown to hate. 

"Riddle!" 

And then the door slammed open as Tom stormed in with a look of pure rage on his face. 

You clutched your wand under your sheets as your eyes landed on his dishevelled form. His hair was a mess, his tie was undone and hanging around his neck and you had never seen him so discomposed and your stomach twisted at the sight of him. 

When his eyes landed on you they immediately softened. 

He was about to open his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. 

"Leave." 

His body froze and he looked at me as if I had just asked him to Crucio himself. Your name left his lips in a broken whisper and you had to look away before you could crumble beneath his stare. 

"Just leave, Tom." You repeated, voice shaky and desperate. Yet despite your pleading, he did not budge. 

"Did someone do this to you? I will murder—"

"Stop." 

"Just tell me—"

"Why the fuck do you even care?!" You exclaimed angrily. "Since you do not even want a soulmate, seeing as you are splitting your soul and planning on breaking our connection indefinitely." You seethed with rage. "Merlin, were you ever going to tell me? Why would you string me along if you did not even want me?" 

He recoiled back at your venomous words in shock. His hand went up to push his messy hair back from his face in panic and he closed his eyes for a brief moment to collect himself. 

"How did you find out?"

You laughed bitterly at the question. "Of course. That is all you care about." 

He shook his head. "No. No. That is not what I—" He took a deep breath. "Yes, I have split my soul but that was before I found you."

"But you are planning on doing it again." You stated but he was quick to deny it. 

"No."

You resisted the urge to slap him. "How can you stand in front of me and lie to my face? I heard you!" 

"I lied. I lied to them. That is what my followers expected of me. But I do not plan on doing it again. Not if it means losing you. I promise." 

You hated him. You hated how he sounded so convincing and genuine and you hated the fact that all you desired was to run back into his embrace. But what you despised the most was how you could not hate him. No matter what. Your heart ached for him. And the pain was a burning reminder that he had imprinted himself into your soul. 

It infuriated you.

It fueled a storm in the pit of your stomach, tremors jolting through each nerve to consume you with wrath.

"Please." He whispered and as you gazed at his eyes all you could see was desperation. He uttered your name again and you shivered. He sounded raw and feral.

He slowly stepped over to you until you were mere inches apart and you did not have the will to push him away. You could not. "I love you." 

And your heart exploded. 

Your vision turned black as your head fell against his chest and you felt everything all at once. Your senses heightened as the searing pain engulfed your body, blazing through each nerve like fire and you struggled to breathe. 

You screamed, or at least you think you did but he hushed you and held you tighter against his chest.

"This was the only way I would not lose you." He told you as he continued to hold you. "Now a part of my soul will live in you, and yours will live in mine. No force in the world can break us apart."

━━━━━━༻♛༺━━━━━━

[delineate-creates]

I may have missed Father’s Day by a mile, but it’s never too late to appreciate @metalomagnetic’s Voldemort and his questionable parenting skills!

[tippilo]

NEW FIC!

Read HERE

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Tomione

Summary:

A Veela will awaken when it first recognizes its mate. Voldemort never knew what lived inside him until it woke during the Battle of Hogwarts and screamed at him to protect his mate. To save her. It was unrelenting, he couldn’t ignore it, it drove him to distraction. It resulted in his death that night.

Caught in the middle of an accident years later, Hermione was suddenly transported through time landing right as Tom Riddle’s quest for power was gaining momentum. Her life became increasingly tangled with his sinister ascent—and then the Veela awoke.

[aleksanderscult]

my favorite interpretation of him is as a man who WANTS that companionship and love but. He’s been burned so many times before, falling in love with people he outlived due to war and his slower aging. So he can’t allow himself to be hurt like that again. Deep inside his little black heart he would love to be equals with Alina but unfortunately years of trauma and pain have left him entirely unable to exist in a relationship that doesn’t have a power imbalance in his favor. He doesn’t know how to let go of his want for power even in his relationships anymore. And now that he needs Alina for his Grand Schemes, well he definitely can’t fall in love with her without potentially fucking up his plan, right? He needs her to do many very specific things and he can’t be blinded by Real Emotion that might make him change his mind so instead he keeps her at arms length while making her THINK her feelings are requited and he pulls her strings to get her to do what he needs so that his centuries of living will have paid off. And deep deep down the man he used to be yearns to have built something real with her, to have companionship who won’t die in the blink of an eye, someone who understands this Otherness he experiences, an equal. If only the man he’d become could stand to let go of the reins in any relationship for more than like. Thirty seconds. Lol

⚠️TW!: sexual abuse and sexual assault! mentioned at some point⚠️

Yup. You get it, anon!

My favorite interpretation of him is as a man who WANTS that companionship and love but he’s been burned so many times before, falling in love with people he outlived due to war and his slower aging. So he can’t allow himself to be hurt like that again.

I completely agree to all of this!

What antis seem unable to understand is that the Darkling is human most of all. Not a villain, not a hero, not a Grisha but a human being with human emotions and needs. In fact, I find him the most human character in the Grisha trilogy. We all want love and companionship. None of us likes the feeling of loneliness (it's one thing to want to be alone and another to be lonely) and the Darkling is no different in this aspect. He wants to love and be loved. He wants someone to keep him company forever, to not abandon him because of betrayal, death, age or mortality. He doesn't want to be alone. For centuries he suffered from it and was desperate to find someone to fill this void. Alina was this person. She ticked (most of) the boxes for him.

(just a small pause to say that we can also see evidence of his desire to feel and live human things in RoW:

(He might considered otkazat'sya beneath him, but the feeling of humanity was something surprisingly pleasant for him. And he seeked Alina out to feel this way again. Even though he denied it:)

(A part of him wanted something simple. Peace and calm and a girl that loved him and he loved her at his side.)

If I could describe the Darkling's need for someone to join him and be with him, for Alina to come to him and love him, I would use this passage from the book "City of Heavenly Fire":

“Imagine if you were the last Shadowhunter left on earth (in this case let's use the term "the last Grisha of your kind"), imagine if all your family and friends were dead, imagine if there were no one left who even believed in what you were. Imagine if you were on the earth in a billion, billion years, after the sun had scorched away all the life, and you were crying out from inside yourself for just one single living creature to still draw breath alongside you, but there was nothing, only rivers of fire and ashes. Imagine being that lonely. And then imagine there was only one way to fix it. Then imagine what you would do to make that thing happen.”

THIS is how I imagine the Darkling's desperation to gain Alina. His last hope for love and companionship.

He has been hurt hundreds of times in the past. The lovers he had, the people he fell in love were dying in front of his eyes from their mortality. Others couldn't understand his powers, couldn't fathom him as a person (because I bet almost all, if not all, his lovers were otkazat'sya). So at some point, he just gave up. Gave up on love and stopped having relationships. He wouldn't be hurt again, he wouldn't allow it.

Deep inside his little black heart he would love to be equals with Alina but unfortunately years of trauma and pain have left him entirely unable to exist in a relationship that doesn’t have a power imbalance in his favor. He doesn’t know how to let go of his want for power even in his relationships anymore.

"his little black heart" that sounded so cute 🥺🫶😭

And, yes, I agree that deep inside (veeery deeply though) he wanted to be equals with Alina because on one hand it seemed right to him, logically and strategically (she had the power of light, he had the power of darkness. They were both immortal and she had a strong spirit). But years had already passed where he had the control in all things. Okay, not all. He couldn't stop Kings and Queens from making stupid or unspeakable things (and yes I'm alluding Genya's sexual assault from the King here). But he had a habit that he couldn't break. "Old habits die hard" fits here. He couldn't put aside his need for domination and just say "Yeah sure do whatever you want in this relationship, Alina! Peace and love!🥰✌️". No, he would still want to have the upper hand in their relationship and their rule.

And now that he needs Alina for his Grand Schemes, well he definitely can’t fall in love with her without potentially fucking up his plan, right? He needs her to do many very specific things and he can’t be blinded by Real Emotion that might make him change his mind so instead he keeps her at arms length while making her THINK her feelings are requited and he pulls her strings to get her to do what he needs so that his centuries of living will have paid off.

Yup. He didn't want to fall in love with her. Just to manipulate her. But the problem is that we don't choose when to fall in love and who. It just happens. And that fucked him up emotionally.

1) Because he hadn't felt that emotion in years.

2) Because it wasn't part of his plans, just like you said.

He literally panicked and didn't know what to do and he certainly didn't know how to express it in a healthy manner.

Alina's constant rejection and rebellion against him (+ her love for Mal and her choosing only him) made him go feral and do impulsive things. Made him fuck up his well-thought-out plans. So, in the end, he really is a person that sometimes let his emotions rule his mind unwillingly.

About him making her think that her emotions are requited, it's a complicated matter. In R&R he confirmed that he seduced her (if you call that seduction) as part of his manipulation.

But I think he also played himself back then at S&B. He tried to appease her worries at that time and in S&B it seemed genuine. Honestly, for me, it still does. But, according to him (and Bardugo) he did it to feel more bound to him, more loyal.

BUT! I think that in the meantime he played himself and caught feelings.

Like "He he I'm gonna make her feel good for herself 😈......shit.....now I feel something for her. FUCK!!"

But he would never admit that to Alina. Not in a verbal way anyway. Because when he gave her his name it was a type of love confession (GIVING HER HIS HEART, HELLO??).

I kinda agree that he wanted to make her feel that her feelings were requited but he also must have been like "but let's not tell her that I also caught feelings👀👀".

He wanted to fulfill his plans, yes. But he also fell in love with her in the process and everything went DOWNHILL FOR HIM.

And deep deep down the man he used to be yearns to have built something real with her, to have companionship who won’t die in the blink of an eye, someone who understands this Otherness he experiences, an equal. If only the man he’d become could stand to let go of the reins in any relationship for more than like. Thirty seconds. Lol

Hard agree to all of this too.

Just like I said, he didn't know how to live a life without controlling it and everyone in it.

[yourbiggestfan2020]

Dumbledore, aka the most powerful wizard alive: Of course, I'm gonna let a minor fight Voldemort multiple times. What's wrong with that?!

[sofiadragon]

Chapters: 12/? Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Lily Evans Potter/Severus Snape (unrequited), Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Severus Snape, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts Staff, Prince Family (Harry Potter) Additional Tags: Severitus | Severus Snape is Harry Potter's Parent, Time Shenanigans, Dark Magic, Worldbuilding, Wizarding World (Harry Potter), Wizarding Culture (Harry Potter), Post-Voldemort's Halloween 1981 Attack on the Potter Family (Harry Potter), Pre-Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Horcrux Hunting, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Custody Arrangements, Blood Adoption (Harry Potter), Demisexual Severus Snape, Protective Severus Snape, Severus Snape Adopts Harry Potter, Severus Snape remembers he Has a Heart, NaNoWriMo 2023, Discussion of failed pregnancies and miscarriages, Potioneer Severus Snape, there's more to Magical Britain than Hogwarts and Diagon Alley, Stillbirth (mentioned), no beta we die like lily evans, paganism (Harry Potter), Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, No Albus Dumbledore Bashing Summary:

Severus Snape doesn't think Albus' plan to martyr Potter will work out and knows nothing of the secret setup to give Harry a chance to live through the killing curse a second time. He decides that what they really needed was to start hunting the Horcruxes years ago instead of waiting for children to do it for them. He sends back his private notes and everything needed to brew a potion to strip off the spells that are restricting his behavior. He expects that his younger self will receive the information in 1992 at best.

On the Summer Solstice, 1985, a listless Severus Snape is surprised by a generous and lucrative gift from his future self.

Featuring: Reluctant schemer turned proud parent. A secret adoption. Narcissa Malfoy and most of the Hogwarts staff trying to get Snape married. Lord Prince decides that a half-blood grandson is better than no grandson, provided he's invented something impressive enough to make up for it. Snape moonlighting as an undercover pedo-catcher to keep his spy skills sharp. The Hogwarts Staff Room betting pool.

This Chapter: Making Pasta with the Weasleys

[regulusandpandora]

So.

We all know that Regulus Black, also known as RAB, became a death eater at sixteen, discovered the existence of Tom Riddle's Horcruxes, and then died at age eighteen while getting one of them so it could be destroyed, right?

I honestly think, that if he hadn't died, he could've defeated Voldemort. Maybe not single handedly, since doing it himself got him killed. But he could've done it.

He could've told the Marauders about Peter. He could've destroyed all the Horcruxes. I don't think Dumbledore would've taken him on as a spy though, at least not very willingly, seeing as I don't think Regulus had a single atom in his body that was loyal to Dumbledore in anyway.

Yeah, Dumbledore and him would probably not have gotten along.

Anyways, he could've done it, he would have lived, Sirius would've stayed out of jail, Remus would still have his friends, James and Lily would've lived, Harry would've had a happy life, Regulus would've been potions teacher (not Snape), and overall everyone would've had a happy ending.

(Except Peter) (And Dumbledore, he would be fired from his position as Headmaster and Minnie would take his place because she is a queen)

[here-for-a-good-time-hopefully]

I want to read more stories of the marauders post-Hogwarts and I’m not talking the cute roommates stories (although I love them) I’m talking abt the stories of the marauders at war child soldiers groomed to fight and being GOOD AT IT

Like James and Lily defied Voldemort THREE TIMES and the rest of the marauders would’ve been just as good cos these kids were described as essentially the brightest of their year at hogwarts

Show me Peter losing hope, show me a dark sirius who grew up in the black family who ppl could reasonably think would be manipulative enough to betray the potters, show me Remus being used for his werewolf capabilities show me people distancing themselves from him because of who he is, show me a James who is struggling to keep his friends and family together

Just show me the angst that comes with children fighting wars and the manipulation of both Voldemort and Dumbledore because I don’t believe for a second that we truly utilise the importance of that time

[winterdeath81]

Soulmate Au prompt.

Harry knew deep down who his Soulmate was the moment he saw him.

He become aware in a muted silence when he stepped out of the caldron in the graveyard. The moment he meet his eyes, red like blood and entirely snake like and he didn't felt only fear but the yearning for proximity and touch. How his lips produced a loud cry wasn't just because of the touch on his scar but also because he wanted to rejected the truth.

The cruciatus, he supposes, didn't hurt more than the truth that his Soulmate was a monster. A sadistic wraith walking on earth with its mind focusing on destruction. That included his own destruction.

He only stopped to think about it when he was back at Hogwarts, safe in the infirmary and under the covers and wards around his bed. Their bond wouldn't open fully until he was 17, so only smal aches would wreck his body now and then and only his own eyes would change. At least one that is.

His left eye, when the morning comes, would change to the same red as the monster. And everyone would know.

Unless he hided it. Which he would do.

He knows the solution is going to work only so much but Harry was almost a Slytherin. He knows how to adapt to those situations and he would act like nothing changed because in reality nothing did.

When he turned 17 however, the monsters eyes would match his and the pain would start and his freedom and life would be over.

Whatever comes first. Soulmate pains where not a joke. You would ache in your soul to be close to them. Your dreams would only be about your distance with them. Eating was out of the question when you refused to stay close to them properly. Denying it was a punishment for both parties. It was torture worst then the Cruciatus and any nasty curse boiling in your veins alongside.

He knows the moment the Monster starts to feel the pains and his right eye changes to the same shade of green that Harry has, it would be over.

But until then, Harry would prepare himself and he would be ready for it.

Until then, no one would know.

[incognito-unfamous]

"It wasn't him imprisoned. Actually it was me"

[haldirs-melda]

Snape nodded, barely able to swallow the fine champagne, every bubble seeming to scald his throat. Forcing a smile on his face, ‘Thank you for this opportunity, my Lord.’

Chapter 16 uploaded to Ruby Red: Promise of Lucius

Wattpad

Ao3

[ileftapieceofmysoulwithyou]

They had reached the Great Hall, the Dark Lord leading the way, the candles were fewer in number and the corners cast long shadows. Harry peered at them suspiciously and definitely wasn’t inching closer to the walking beside him. The man stopped suddenly and turned, “No, no. There is no greater threat here than me, Harry Potter. Do not get confused.” Voldemort hissed at him. And well- Harry could see how he could be the greatest threat. Looming over him with the dark robes pooled around the wizard- darker than the shadows trailing his ankles- and the scarlet madness shining down, Voldemort was a nightmare in itself. But- Harry stepped closer to the nightmare, away from the shadows. “Not to me, you are not.” He looked up and held the stare of the wizard. For a moment he thought that the darkness around him swelled, but he carried on bravely- or foolishly- “Whether you like it or not, that is the truth.” What will the man do? Flay him for his impudence? Show him how terrible he could be? But Harry knew it all already. The man had proven it all already. At the same time, to him -even as dense as he was- all those snarls had rung of denial. Not that his heart was not scrambling right now, standing in front of the Dark Lord and accusing him of being not as bad as he could be- an invitation to everything awful surely- with his hands quietly fastened to his sleeve, Harry didn’t tremble. And the mad wizard tilted his head and said in quite murmur, “Is that so?”

“A Parody of Emotions,” watchingvfall_n_drown

Summary: Harry shatters to pieces- not many notice. The one who does doesn't want to glue him back to being the Golden Saviour.

This is not a parody. At all.