#tom riddle

[marvohlou]

tldr: don't strangle them!

[vesperkyno]

Some Harry Potter stuff

[lightningant]

horcrux family photo

[tomarry65]

This gives me tomarrymort vibes

cut it out with till death do us part. i will find you in this life and reality and the next one and the next one and the next one

[yourmum8609]

girls will look at a man and say “he’s just misunderstood” as he murders people

[abouttimeoc]

[greece-greecia]

Le-le- lesbianas, lesbianas, lesbianas

I read this fic and fell into the madness of TOMARRY YURI TOXIC: Sharp is the Pang the Serpent Gives by beetaker (AO3)

[hazelnut1]

Do you ever dream of me?

[sp7-mr]

[saintfaux]

There is no stronger force than that of a girl’s desperation to write about her male hyperfixation.

[apicelladonna]

Drew Tom Riddle for the first time! Pls be nice :)

[walllkhht]

daily sketch on ipad ୨ৎ

[nikispade]

When I look for my romance I search for insanity

i dont care what universe, situation, voldemort or tom, i want him to be pining for harry FIRST.

and i don’t mean it in a “he fell first, he fell harder” way, i want him to fall for harry first and be absolutely terrible for him

harry eventually falls for him and its all fine but i wanna see tom/voldemort lose sleep over this man, punching air (and maybe people) seeing harry talk to anyone, and being insanely obsessed

in my hc, this is a man of zero chill and he will experience several breakdowns over having his first “crush” on anyone that isn’t there just to rise ranks in wizard society. having a crush should be his worst nightmare.

a nonchalant tom/voldemort is one that i do not care to read.

[lightningant]

was asked if there is any romance in vov and the answer is that these two men are operating on wildly different agendas and for that matter so is every other character

[viperify]

Hii,pooks! Congrats on 1k💜💜👾 thought I come sit in the dating booth👾 im a slytherin,capricorm👾 my ideal date is w U(no,jk). Its actually a late night library date where we break into the library, because why wouldn't we👾 and we cuddle on a sofa and he reads to me in a soft voice😭 im so delulu help

1k celebration | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𓂃✉︎ Library Date.

A/N: hello my sweetheart!! Ideal date is with me?? That sounds like you’d match Tommy pretty well🙂‍↕️🤎

Tom Riddle was arguably the most respected and—probably also most feared—prefect of Hogwarts.

There was absolutely nothing that escaped his sharp senses. If students were out after curfew—detention. If students failed to adhere to the dress code—detention. If students were seen entering classrooms or the library after opening times—detention. And God forbid he caught two people sharing a few too many intimacies in the corridor. 

Detention.

Quite ironic. Because, curiously enough, none of these rules seemed to apply to him—or to you, for that matter.

It was 23:00 when you heard a few soft pecks at your window. Another late-night owl.

“Be ready at midnight.

- TMR”

You had always been certain that Tom—being as intelligent as he was—had a bright future ahead of him. Perhaps not in the field of romantic poetry, though. You huffed, scrunching up the paper and throwing it in the bin beneath your desk.

Not something new, necessarily. It had taken you months to get him to soften up, to let his guard down around you—and yet, each time you two met, mostly at night, was the only time he seemed to let you in completely.

One of the upsides of these late-night rendezvous was your free choice of clothes—because nobody except for him was going to see you anyway.

You put on the skirt you knew he liked on you, a few buttons undone on your blouse. Applying the tiniest bit of mascara and lip gloss—barely visible, but still there.

And each time his lips brushed against yours in a soft kiss—he felt it. The softness of your lips, the effort you put into seeing him. Even if it was subtle—he noticed.

It was twelve on the dot when you heard two soft knocks on your door. Fixing your skirt and hair, you pushed down the handle and peeked outside.

Tom stood there, tall and composed. His prefect badge reflected the soft, flickering candlelight coming from your room—a silent reminder of why this was possible in the first place. His eyes met yours, briefly—the storm behind them softening ever so slightly at the sight of you.

Without a word, he took your hand in his and led you to the library. The castle was almost entirely dark at this time of the night, save for the lit torches guiding your way.

Being a prefect, he had the keys—meaning it wasn’t technically breaking in. He preferred to call it his prefect’s duties to “educate students”, although what you did in those hours did little to help your studies.

“I’ve found something you may like,” he said as you entered, casually walking through the many aisles until he reached what he was looking for.

ENGLISH LITERATURE.

It was a relatively small section compared to the rest of the library—after all, there wasn’t much demand for these kinds of books at Hogwarts. Much more interesting were the many books that told about the history of witchcraft, about forbidden spells and dangerous potions.

But not for you. You’d always loved reading Muggle literature, even when accessing it was rather difficult.

“This.” Tom said, holding one of the books up. You couldn’t quite catch the title, but judging by the cover—dented edges, color missing in some spots—you agreed with a short nod. “I would love to.”

The best books had been properly read, after all.

He conjured a couch at the back of the library, soft and plush. Just about perfect in size for you both. And though that was the case, you preferred to just lean back against his chest, playing with the sleeves of his robes and the treasured ring on his finger.

A family heirloom, he told you.

His voice was barely above a whisper when he started reading. Soft, low. Occasionally asking you what you thought about certain passages. Placing a gentle kiss on the shell of your ear as you answered.

His second arm held you close, thumb drawing gentle patterns on your stomach. At some point, as usual, you fell asleep during the course of the night. He woke you up what must have been one or two hours later. Gently playing with your hair until you stirred awake.

“It’s almost morning. I’ll bring you back.”

The sun barely stretched across the horizon as you walked back in quiet, yet hurried steps, first sun rays streaming through the tinted glass, illuminating the corridors with a soft glow.

Tom pressed one last goodnight kiss to your lips before he disappeared down the corridor again.

A next time would come. It always did.

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