#tom riddle x evil!reader

[jmliebert]

☆ how to charm Tom Riddle (but you're lowkey evil)☆

also known as ☆ Tom Riddle x Evil!Reader headcanons ☆

Tom is collected, always knowing the secrets and his role in this wicked world. No one can stop him—not even himself—as he marches down the path of destruction for all around him, including himself. Nothing surprises him in his meticulously calculated world, but you.

Hidden behind his impeccable manners and simple brilliance, Tom observes. A lot. One crisp evening, when all the notable Slytherins gather in the common room, he watches silently. Then he notices he’s not alone in his scrutiny. He sees you observing as well (of course, you must be from Slytherin), your eyes shimmering with brightness and something darker he can’t quite decipher, but nevertheless it catches his attention.

One day, he sees you arguing with someone and, naturally, he observes. Situations like that reveal a lot about a person, and once again, he’s (mildly) surprised. You don’t shout. You remain calm, collected, your voice relaxed, your face blank. But your mouth, oh, your mouth, spits words veiled with well-hidden hatred. You have a sharp tongue, but you don’t let your emotions get the better of you. He likes that. You have your own mind and are definitely not a mere follower.

You are a perfect studen as well. He sees you’re bright and handle things effortlessly. What intrigues Tom even more is that you don’t try to fit in. You don’t seek attention; you’re quite a loner really, minding your own business. You don’t need your peers' approval or a crowd of friends. You are your own person. This independence is important to Tom because he prefers to be in the spotlight while you are content in the shadows. There’s a saying: "There cannot be two dragons in one village," and it fits your dynamic perfectly i think.

And also I think he sees behind this independence of yours. Tom feels you are lonely and misunderstood just like him and perhaps that made him want to be closer.

One time Tom "accidentally" walks into the prefect's bathroom where you are bathing. Let me just say; he’s not a pervert; he just wants to provoke a reaction, to see something vulnerable in your eyes he can use against you. You’re in the water, thick fog filling the room, and you remain in your place, unashamed, your body glistening with water. “How can I help you, Tom?” you ask simply and a delicate smile plays on Tom lips at that.

You are a challenge. You know the game he plays, and it’s refreshing. Another significant factor is your fascination with the Dark Arts. You spend much time in the library’s restricted section, where your conversations deepen over shared interests. Tom is charmed to learn you collect cursed tokens and have a hidden liking for the grotesque. You are truly fascinating.

Before long, you’re performing dark magic rituals together—dark offerings and soul-binding spells. You cut your palms and share your blood, keeping your secrets to the grave. But you are still hard to break, your emotions hidden deep inside.

But sometimes, Tom manages to break through. When he does something you disapprove of, you maintain your composure in public. Yet, in secluded corners of the castle, you grab his neck and bite his lips until they bleed during kisses, showing that you do have feelings after all.

"Sometimes all I want is to ruin you."

Tom knows it’s not only lust and shared ambition that keep you close to him. You are strategic. You think ahead, coldly and calculated, which actually gives him peace. It's good to know that after all everyone is the same. That deep inside everyone is a monstrosity. That he can understand.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you can find more of my works about Tom ♡here♡

[heartiella]

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

[pearlstiare]

Real footage of Tom Riddle on Hogsmeade after his date with Y/N - NEW FLASH *he got a kiss*

[cassiopeiasdaughter]

like the moon loves the earth

Tom Riddle x fem!reader

summary: in which Tom is dragged out of bed in the middle of the night, because he is a simp to help his friend, deliver a hippogriff. (based on a request from anon)

main masterlist

Tom was dreaming, or actually having a nightmare. He felt cold and the world around him was dark. There were strange faces looking at him, calling him Dark Master or Lord, he doesn’t remember now, his attention is on the school- his school- around him, on fire and in ruins. Children and teachers are screaming and running around and he…he-

He wakes with a gasp and later a scream, at the first thing he sees; a pair of wide eyes staring deeply at him.

“Quiet!”, you whisper and cover his mouth with your hand “Are you mental? You’ll wake everyone.”

His eyes widen at the realization, of you in his room and not a terrible monster that has spilled from his dream into the real world.

“What?”, he asks confused as he removes your hand lightly

“I think you were having a bad dream.”, you whisper

“How did you know? Was I screaming in my sleep?”

“Ah no. I came here for something else.”, you reply awkwardly- twirling your hair in your fingers innocently. 

He had to control himself and not smile, at that. Truth was, that you and Tom had been good friends for a few years now. You did almost everything together; almost, because you like animals and he doesn’t. More specifically, you will head off to the forest at times, care for the creatures there, spend time with them or just observe them. He loves that about you, how soft you’ll turn around magical creatures, how protective you are and how caring.

He loves many things about you; he loves your voice and how it sounds when you laugh at his jokes. He loves your expression, the one you make when you try to keep up with his long talks about magic and life. He loves how you don’t care about the whys and the what ifs whatsoever, but still pay attention to him and his existential worries. He loves you, but will never tell you.

And now, you are in his room at night, wanting to tell him something. Will that be a confession? A demand for you two to not be just friends anymore? Would you kiss-

“Bobbi is in labour.”, you rushed out worried ,“You need to come and help.”

“Uhh- what?”, he asked in confusion- trying to ignore the pain in his chest.

“Come on, we don’t have time, the baby could be out any minute.”

“The baby?”

“Yes! Bobbis baby- egg actually. Did you not hear what I said? Come on, up we go.”, you pushed the covers off and threw a few of his clothes on him. 

“Who in the name of bloody Salazar, is Bobbi?”

“Bobbi, the hippogriff, she is pregnant- was actually. Come on!”, you whispered loudly, waiting for him impatiently with your hands on your hips and your eyebrows raised. If you were together, Tom would plant a kiss on your lips and maybe drag you back to sleep; but you weren’t and that is why, as he told himself, he got out of bed.

“Wouldn’t it be better if- I don’t know- a professor helped Bobbi, instead of us?”, he asked- as he put on his clothes, after spinning you around so you wouldn’t face him.

“Tsk.”, you let out “Bobbi doesn’t trust them, she trusts us.”

“She trusts you, you mean”

“Only, because she hasn’t met you yet, you should join me more often when I visit her.”

“I don’t see why.”, he lies- he would join you if it meant spending more time with you, but it would still be hopeless.

“For starters, you could leave your dorm- and the library does not count.”, you lifted your finger towards him and he snorted 

“And, you and Bobbi are alike-”

“In, uh- what way exactly?”, he asked fully dressed now and ready to leave with you

“Well, you both seem grumpy and scary, but in reality- you are way too soft.”

Only around you, he wanted to finish, but wouldn’t dare to, instead he walked over to the door, lightly bumping your shoulder on his way out, “Come on then, Poppy is waiting.”

“Bobbi!”, you said laughing and ran after him.

Bobbi had indeed been waiting, and in obvious pain, as she lay down on her side- letting out screams and cries. You quickly run to her side- kneeling by her and running soothing circles on her beak with your fingers.

“It’s going to be alright, sweet girl.”, you whispered in a tone that made Tom’s heart swell and slow down his breathing. With hesitant steps, he walked over to you two, kneeling quietly behind you- releasing a hiss from the frightened hippogriff in front of him.

“Maybe, I should go.”, he whispered cautiously trying to maintain eye contact with the creature

“Stay where you are! Bow and you’ll be fine.”

Mumbling an annoyed “Shouldvegonetobed” under his breath, he listened to you and slowly- without breaking eye contact, bowed to Bobbi, who gave him a less suspicious stare now. It took a few seconds, but they felt like many agonizing hours to Tom, for the poor creature to lightly bow in return, proving she approved of him and was willing to trust him.

It wasn’t the bow he earned that melted his heart, washed his stress away- no- it was your hand clasping his and the smile you beamed at him, a thank you and an I told you so all in one.

He didn’t have enough time to savor the feeling, a scream whipped both your heads away from eachother, turning your attention to the animal in front of you.

“What do we do now?”, he asked anxiously

“Well, I- I don’t know, I figured you’d come up with something.”, you replied anxiously- moving closer to the animal, touching her beak in a comforting manner

“How on Earth, would I know how to help hippogriff in labor, this is the first one I’ve seen up close.”, he whispered loudly, doing his best to not cause nay more stress to poor Bobbi, who’d now curled up even further into herself.

“I don’t know Tom, you always think of something.”, you said back, looking at him with open eyes, vulnerable and honest and scared. He wanted more than anything to wipe that look off your face, comfort you- fight every single one of your fears and worries, so he could see you smile at him, once more.

“Alright, alright.”, he said, mostly to himself while taking a deep breath, “First, let’s cast a warming charm, I-I spotted the calming roots we learned about last week in herbology, you remember which ones?”

“Yeah, yeah.”, you replied collecting yourself- “The ones with a little yellow at the tips?”

“Exactly, I saw some a few feet behind, can you fetch some? And water, also?”, he said rolling up his sleeves and casting a Lumos so he could see clearer.

You tossed your bag at his feet, “There’s a bottle in the front pocket.”,you said running to pick some of the roots he told you about.

The moment you ran away anxiety crashed him, his hands felt sweaty and unsteady and he drew a shaky breath staring at the poor creature, folded and in visible pain, whimpers and cries falling from her mouth, “I did not ask for this.”, he said earning a loud whine from Bobbi.

“You are right, sorry.”, he replied, “We can do this, come on.”, moving closer and transfigurating leaves and mud into a blanket for her.

“I am here.”, he heard your voice from afar, running breathless with a stack of leaves and flowers and anything that resembled the roots you looked for.

“Here-“, you handed him the roots, “-I also picked up these.”, you placed a few flowers on his lap- 

He started at you for a few seconds with confused eyes, and red color creeping up on his cheeks, staining them.

“For the taste…of the potion.”, you added

“Ah, yeah, of course.”, he shook his head and began brewing a potion to calm the poor hippogriff and ease her pain, make the situation easier and faster. He felt your hand gripping his shoulder, tightly, when you heard Bobbi scream and toss around, and if it weren’t for the terrible circumstances, he swears his heart would have stopped.

Tom Riddle has felt relief, many times in his life. Moving to Hogwarts is a memorable one, you telling him that you would never date the annoying Hufflepuff prefect- another special to him. But, this exact moment, watching Bobbi, curled around her egg- with you by his side, resting your head on his shoulder and sniffling quietly with your arms wrapped around his, this moment; he is sure, he’ll remember and cherish forever.

“Thank you.”, you whisper on the way back to the castle, “I can always count on you. I- I can trust you and you are always there for me. Thank you, really.”

You squeeze his hand. His fingers are growing sweaty and hot as each moment passes. You must have realized by now- what you mean to him. How you affect him; how he’ll always follow you, like the Moon orbits the Earth, at all times. Every night it shines for the Earth, like he would for you- if you asked him to. Maybe it’s the moon that shines bright tonight, or the sentimental- vulnerable moment that passed, or maybe it is all the years of pining that have piled up and can’t be contained anymore. 

“You know why I did it, don’t you?”, he stops abruptly , “I would do anything for you, anything you ask of  me- it’s yours. For Merlins sake I- I would hatch a dragons egg for you!”

He stares at your expression; mouth slightly open- eyes focused on him, playing with your rings nervously. Nervous, you are nervous. Probably thinking of a way to let him down gently, because you are kind like that, you try to please everyone- make everyone happy, sacrificing in result your needs, but he won’t stand for that, especially not now.

“Sorry, forget it”, he says and takes quick steps away from you- wanting more than anything to hide under his blankets and pillows.

As he contemplates every decision he’s made in his life and tries to think of anything more stupid than his confession, right now, he doesn’t hear you running behind him shouting his name annoyed.

“Would you just, wait one second!”, you grab his hand and turn him- to face you, “You are so annoying when you act like this.”

“Like what?”, 

“Like a complete self-pitying know-it-all-”, you shout, “Excuse me.”, he interrupts but you continue, “-it’s bloody annoying, especially when-” you stop and let out an exasperated breath at his ignorance; eyes looking at you innocently and blush all over his cheeks. He wanted to ask, “when what?”, but you let out a sound that reminded him of Bobbis groans and grabbed his tie- lowering him to you, smashing your lips to his.

It took him a few moments to realize what was happening, and then a few more to convince himself that he wasn’t imagining this and you were in fact kissing him. And boy, when he was convinced he kissed you like his life depended on it.

His arms wrapped around your body, keeping you close to him, fearing you’d slip away. But your hands pulling at his collar, and playing with his buttons assured him there would be no slipping away, not tonight and hopefully not ever.

He smiles at your lips as you part from him, both of you in need of air as you take deep breaths.

“I would hatch a dragons egg for you too.”, you say quietly and intertwine your fingers, kissing his knuckles as he grins down at you. “Don’t look at me like that.”, you say blushing and then prompt him to move, walk back to the castle with you, “Come on, we have to wake up early tomorrow and help Bobbi with her egg.”

“Of course we do.”, he says tucking you to him, with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, as he gives your hair a kiss.

At this exact moment, Tom Riddle doesn’t feel relieved or content. This feeling can’t compare to anything, not to the satisfaction a perfectly curated potion brings him and neither to the sweet peace he feels as his head lands on his pillows on Friday nights. No, right now he feels joy and that counts for so much more than he ever thought it would.

A/N: sorry for any mistakes! feedback & criticism are very very appreciated

[throped]

Never Glory - Chapter 7

Tom Riddle x reader

TW: blood, gore, death and all that stuff

Class soon ended and quickly scurried out because it wasn't my intention to be late to my next class. Plus, I had a lot of studying to do. You see, when it comes to studying, I am definitely not the smartest person in the muggle world. I absolutely despise tests, I can handle assignments though. The only fact that I know a lot is because I'm like centuries old. I had to spend my time somewhere, didn't I? Other than Hogwarts which I loved, I did unfortunately go to a muggle school in my lifetime. Let's just say that I hated muggle schools with a burning passion. We got taught math, science, English, arts, extra languages, PE and health, and History (which I quite enjoyed). I liked math and it wasn't bad. Also English, that was quite nice along with the extra language that I learnt which was Spanish, lovely language really. 

Arts had different parts. There was visual, drama, music and dance. My heart was with visual arts but I hated music, I DESPISED it. They have A, B, C, D, E, F. Of course, I always aimed for the A's but I ended up with a few B's and some C's too. Music was impossible. I hated the theory work and I had absolutely no finger coordination. Let's just say that I desperately needed help with playing the piano. It was no doubt that I got a C for that class. (you can change your subject preferences if you like :))

I huffed and pushed the door open once I reached my dorm. I did run into Molly and Lily on the way though and they did say that we could hang out in our free period after the following class. I quickly grabbed my books needed for the next subject: transfiguration. I have a feeling that Riddle doesn't like me. The way he said 'quite the impressive answer', was nice to his extent but he did seem to despise me a little. Almost as if he was jealous or annoyed by my presence. I couldn't work out which one though. I decided to stop thinking about Riddle right after I entered the class because somebody could be using legilimency at any time of the day, although, I do suspect that that's not the case since there are quite a few dimwitted morons here.

Transfiguration was a good subject since I had this one with Lily and Molly so I didn't need to worry about which idiot would sit next to me, or if I had an idiot sitting next to me at all. As I walked in 5 minutes early. I saw Riddle already there, sitting in the middle seats, not too far back, neither too close to the front. I took a glance towards Lily and waved at her before going to sit next to her. "Hey Lily, how's your day been," I asked as I sat down next to her. I could tell that she was quite disappointed on me being a Slytherin but I suppose she's gotten over it. She doesn't believe the, 'everyone in Slytherin is going to go bad somebody'. I mean, that's sort of true. I wouldn't consider myself evil.... yet at least. But nonetheless, we've decided to be on first name basis since she thinks that it's 'friendly' to do so. 

"Oh good morning Daena! My day has been quite nice besides the constant bickering between James and Severus," she replied with, while writing some notes down. I wondered who Severus was since I hadn't met him yet. 

"Oh, that is definitely not the most pleasant experience," I joked. "But if you don't mind me asking, who's Severus?" I added.

"Right sorry, I forgot to introduce him to you," Lily laughed. "Severus Snape is a Slytherin and a target for James to bully. I despise James for doing it but whenever I bring it up, he just seems to torment me about why I'm friends with Severus," she sadly stated. To be honest, I wasn't that fond of James Potter, and he did seem like quite the bully to me.

"Well, if you hate what James does that much, then I can always crucio him for you," I stated, while grabbing everything out of my satchel. 

"Daena, you're funny. But no, please don't do that," she said. She thought I was joking. Now that's funny. I hummed in response and continued to get my quill set. Well, James and her were friends but it's not right to bully somebody for the fun of it. I have my morals too.

"Oh look, here Severus comes. He typically sits near Riddle's group though, that's the only time that James doesn't bother him, I suspect that James is scared of Riddle. I mean, who isn't? And that's also why I don't particularly approach him," Lily said as I peered at the person who just entered. He was quite pale and had jet black hair that was neatly brushed behind his ears. He seemed to be the quiet type so why would James bully him? There were still a few minutes before the professor would arrive so I had enough time to get adjusted and take note of who came in and out.

Just as my trance finished, another voice rang out. "Oh look who it is! Snivellus Snape!" 

I could tell it was Potter. When I turned my back around, I was indeed right. He was standing there with Lupin, Pettigrew and Black. I knew the Black family had traditions for being in Slytherin so a thought did cross my mind as to why he was in Gryffindor. 

As Severus stood there with a slight frown on his face, I realized that no one would help him. Lily couldn't help since she was friends with both of them, but I think her love for Potter blinded herself from seeing the bad things he does. Since we had a few minutes left and I had already set up, I calmly stood up as to not cause a scene.

"You can't speak to him like that Potter," I mentioned as I stood up. "L/N, seriously. Can't you see we're just having a little fun?" Potter replied as he looked Severus up and down. 

"Well, you guys can go have your 'fun' elsewhere," I said while making imaginary quotation marks. "Stop bothering him or I'll have all four of your heads hanging in my dorm," I stated as I looked at the so called 'mauderers'. 

"Oh no, Daena is going to kill us! What are we going to do now?" Potter said, sarcasm laced on his voice as he pretended to faint into the three other boys. I scoffed and rolled my eyes.  "They're not worth your time Daena," Lily said as she pulled me away. 

I then walked towards Severus. "Hello Severus. Lily told me all about you," I smiled. "I'm Daena L/N, pleasure to meet you. It's not right how they treat you and I just wanted to tell you that," I added, a grin forming on my face right after.

"Nice to meet you too Daena. I suppose you already know my name and I can see you're good friends with Lily," he stated. Just by his glance towards Lily, I could see that he dearly loved her. They'd probably been friends since the start of first year which I sadly did not get to experience.

"Yeah, we're great friends although we've barely known each other for two days," I said, while chuckling a little at the sound of what I had just said.

I had a friend. And it was quite nice. I actually had multiple friends. Lily, Molly, Emma, Septima, and now maybe even Severus. But definitely not Riddle. I sensed that he was either jealous or annoyed with my presence. But I couldn't figure out which one.

Little did I know that it was neither what I had just predicted. His eyes showed not jealousy,  Not annoyance, But love.

It is just that neither of them knew it yet.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anddd that's a wrap! I will start to post a little more consistently now! Also, sorry about the limited interactions with Riddle. But I promise, that there will be more. This was just a chapter to get everyone well introduced and your opinions on everyone. Also, in the next chapter, you'll be joining the Sl- wait I can't say anything else or I'll ruin it lmao. Anyways, bye, see you next chapter!

[enha-doodles]

please do a slytherin boys reacting to you being a hufflepuff pls

SLYTHERIN GUY'S REACTION TO YOU BEING A HUFFLEPUFF | ✧⁺。

Pairing : (Mattheo , Tom , Theodore, Lorenzo , Draco) x reader

Notes : okay so now only Slytherin left and next will definately be an enhypen post , it's been too long since I posted something for them 😭

Warnings : not proofread , written in a hurry my bad guys

MATTHEO RIDDLE

Mattheo's smirk widens as he gazes at you, unable to contain his amusement. "Well, well, well, my dear Hufflepuff," he begins, his tone playful yet affectionate, "aren't you just the epitome of kindness? It's like you're allergic to anything even remotely sinister." He chuckles softly, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "But fear not, my sweet, for I'll be your guide through the shadows. Together, we'll navigate the dark corners of Hogwarts, with your innocence as our secret weapon." He grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Who knows, maybe you'll even rub off on this Slytherin and teach me a thing or two about being... less evil." He winks, his playful tone laced with genuine fondness for you. "But until then, let's just enjoy the ride, shall we?" You can't help but laugh at his teasing, feeling a surge of affection for the charming Slytherin who's captured your heart.

TOM RIDDLE

Tom rolls his eyes at the mere mention of Hufflepuff, muttering about the insignificance of a house that values kindness above all else. He's determined to toughen you up, constantly pushing you to shed your soft exterior and embrace the cold, hard reality of the wizarding world. "Kindness is a weakness, darling," he'll growl, his gaze steely as he lectures you on the importance of ambition and cunning.

He'd manipulate you by turning you against your friends because in his eyes you are born to evil that's why you ended up with him , your friends are the wrong influence "And those so-called friends of yours? They're just wolves in sheep's clothing, waiting to take advantage of your sweet nature. But fear not, my dear, for I'll always be here to protect you" He's there even if it means scaring away every potential suitor with a well-timed glare.

THEODORE NOTT

Theodore can't help but chuckle at the irony of your Hufflepuff allegiance, but it's all in good fun. He'll mock you mercilessly, recounting every Slytherin victory over Hufflepuff in Quidditch or other competitions. Yet, despite his teasing, Theodore knows when to concede defeat, his love for you outweighing any petty house rivalry.

"Alright, alright, my little badger," he'll sigh, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I may be a Slytherin, but you've got me wrapped around your little finger. Just promise me you'll stop bringing up that time Hufflepuff beat us in the House Cup. It still stings, you know."

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

He'll even go as far as pretending to roar like a ferocious dog lion - oh the irony , whenever someone gets too close, much to your amusement.

Lorenzo can't resist the urge to baby you at every turn, his heart swelling with pride whenever he looks at you. He'll hover protectively by your side, his arm draped over your shoulders like a shield against the world. "My sweet little badger," he'll coo, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'll protect you from every danger, real or imagined. No one's laying a finger on my precious Hufflepuff, not while I'm around."

DRACO MALFOY

Draco's annoyance is as evident as ever, his aristocratic features twisted into a perpetual scowl (his resting face actually) as he begrudgingly accepts your Hufflepuff allegiance. He'll grumble about the stupidity of your house, his annoyance palpable in every word he utters. "Hufflepuff" he'll mutter under his breath, as if the mere mention of the word leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

But despite his disdain, Draco can't help but crave the princess treatment you're all too willing to provide. "Fine, Hufflepuff," he'll huff, crossing his arms in a dramatic display of annoyance. "But don't think for a second that I'm not expecting extra cuddles to make up for it."

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　 　 　。

[floatyflowers]

Dark Tom Riddle x Muggle! Reader (Things he would say to you)

"Speaking with those filthy muggle friends of yours"

"I know that you are also a muggle, you don't have to remind me every time"

"I got rid of them for your safety, stop being ungrateful"

"If I was truly evil, you would have been dead right after you spoke to ex-boyfriend"

"Don't be silly, naive muggles such as yourself couldn't possibly survive on their own"

"If you cross me, I might have to take drastic action."

"You don’t get to have an opinion, you don't know what is best for you, love"

"Stop crying, it's just a hug"

"I show my love with actions not with silly words"

"I gave you too much freedom, you are not allowed out of the house from now on"

"Maybe the Imperius curse will fix your horrible behavior"

[lushaletta]

the dark lord and his distraction / tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader

content: muggleborn!reader, swearing

summary: you distract tom from his plans. and he hates it.

a/n: this is my pt. 2 to the lamb and her wolf! idk if i like this but i kinda do but Arghh idk. there will prob be a part 3. love u guys!

read part one here!

⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

“Hello!” you chirp, skipping over, books in hand.

Tom’s not looking for company. In fact, he was actively avoiding it. He couldn’t continue to be distracted by you. He had work to be done, meetings to be held. But he’s a weak man recently. “Hello.”

You set your things down and lace your arms around his neck suddenly. He’s absolutely horrified. “Thank you for your help studying, Tommy, I’ve passed my exam with full marks!”

He clears his throat and you leave a patch of goosebumps in your wake. “You’re welcome,” he drawls. “You wouldn’t have to spend so much extra time revising if you’d only paid attention in class.”

Tom knows you’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. You’d be a mistake. It’s obvious what he should do. He should send you off on your merry way and end whatever friendship has blossomed between you, so you at least have a chance at living. For someone so obsessed with immortality, Tom knew he was a dead man the moment you strut into his life, all smiles and Mary Jane’s. But he’s selfish, and so you were dead right with him, that very minute.

He doesn’t like anything you bring. He doesn’t like the reactions you elicit from calling him Tommy and he doesn’t like how you make him happy. Or hopeful. There is no hope for him. He’s destined to live a half-life and he doesn’t like that he wants to make you live that life too.

And you’re not entirely stupid. You know there’s something strange about him and that’s exactly why you come every day with your books and snacks. You’re curious. He’s haunting— a concoction of allure and fear and it’s all but enticing. “Well, who wants to do that? You’re a far better teacher.”

His face casts the ghost of a smile. “Don’t you have chess club in 15 minutes?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there,” you say, easily. Then the realisation dawns on you: You’ve never given him your schedule. “Wait a second,” you laugh. “How do you know that?”

He holds an even tone. “Not hard to guess.”

You blink. Change the topic. “You’re very pretty, you know?”

His knees almost give out and he’s seated comfortably on a chair. “Thank you,” he whispers, trying hard not to sound surprised. He’s not unaware of his good looks, but how anyone could be so casual about it is beyond him.

You’re an aberration, he thinks. No, he’s sure. You write notes in the margins of his textbooks and fall asleep on his shoulder. And when you do so, you let out the cutest little snores and purr. Like a fucking kitten. It drives him to insanity and even deeper into his spiral.

“No, like, you are super pretty. It’s kind of otherworldly.”

He’s not too sure what to say. He’s never rendered speechless by anyone, but fuck, you’re his exception to just about everything. Instead, he stiffens and breathes out a small, “That’s kind.”

Your cheeks dimple and Tom swears he sees his future. But that’s crazy. He has to remember who you are and hell, who he is. He’s the Dark Lord, evil, no matter how you see him in that pretty head of yours. And you’re a filthy Mudblood.

It’s been two days and he hasn’t seen you anywhere. He’s starting to think there *is* no cure to his hysteria because he acts crazy in both your presence and absence. He thinks about you too much in both. He’s looked everywhere; in all your classes and even your dorm that he’s managed to find.

He’s about giving up. There is no point because you’re meant to be temporary.

“Hi,” you say, breathlessly as you appear behind him, startling him into oblivion. He’s a skilled Legilimens so he should’ve heard your thoughts as you creeped up, but he was too busy with his own about you.

He conceals his relief and narrows his eyes. “You have been gone.”

You look a little disheveled but beautiful as ever. Tom doesn’t sweat, but it feels like he’s going to. “Family stuff. You know how it goes!”

Tom doesn’t know how it goes. He’s used to abandonment and lonely holidays. He doesn’t know how it goes but he knows how it feels to dread the Christmases and Easters and summers because all he can look forward to is disappointment.

He winces. You notice and cringe. You don’t know much about his family but judging by that reaction, it’s no good. “Mm,” he manages. It’s silence for a bit. Comfortable silence. He’s secretly relishing in your company. “I didn’t like it when you were gone.”

What a fucking tool.

The corners of your lips curl into a soft grin. “You are adorable!” you giggle. He’s mortified.

You haven’t really told any of your friends about your blooming acquaintanceship with Tom Riddle. After all, he’s not really known for his friendliness. But you trust Camilla. And you’ve used up the last of your excuses for bailing on meals to study with him.

“Riddle. Are you joking me?”

Your eyebrows quirk up. “No. He’s a breath of fresh air from the Hogwarts hustle. Not much of a talker though. I do most of that.”

She smiles a little like it’s expected of you but it fades once she refocuses. “He doesn’t like us Muggleborns, you know.”

“That’s silly.”

“Only true. I heard Mulciber whispering about it. Like, they really don’t like us. No wonder he’s such a git towards me in class.”

“Have you ever actually spoken to Tom, though?” You fold your arms over your chest. You’re not too sure why you’re being defensive.

“Well, no—“

“That’s what I thought! You don’t give people chances, Camilla. You rely on gossip to fuel your opinions,” you spit.

Camilla puts her hands up in surrender and starts talking about the cute Ravenclaw boy she’s planning to ask out.

“Oh! And I think Murphy fancies you! He asked me to ask you how you felt about him.”

You thought about him for a moment. He’s nothing special but he’s attractive and you’re honestly willing to give it a shot.

Tom is fuming, hearing what you think. Listening from around the corner and it’s creepy and borderline stalker-ish but he’s begun to feel a strange protectiveness over you. Frenzy and all that.

So, yes. You’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. But… you were a desire. A selfish, greedy desire.

And Tom always gets what he wants.

taglist for this series! @helalokithor @mli345 (can’t find ur blog so sorry!!) lmk if u want to be added!

[indecisive-capricorn]

Headcanons to Dating Yandere Tom Riddle:

WARNINGS: MDNI! Yandere, stalking, implied dubcon, mentions of sex, violence, mentions of blood, mentions of breeding, mentions of wife, mentions of marriage, etc.

SUMMARY: A chance to experience what dating Tom Riddle is like, even when it's against your will to do just that.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, this headcanons leans more into dating Yandere Tom Riddle but technically, even without the yandere and dark part, he will do questionably dark things for his partner. I'm planning to make other headcanons that goes into details about that specific situation. For example, a "Headcanons to Dark Tom Riddle x Pregnant Wife Reader"

MASTERLIST: Feel free to check out my other works! :)

It doesn't matter where you come from, alright? Although it's important for Tom to have an excellent muggle free reputation, Tom has his ways to make sure any history you have with muggles are erased. No one knows your precise history because of it either, but according to their Dark Lord, you were a witch from a fine family in France. While that might have been true, what they didn't know was how you were actually a rebel and fought against him for a time until he kidnapped you.

You left him with no choice! He was infatuated with you due to your strength and infamous beauty. Tom kept on sending you gifts, invitations to balls even and attempted to bait you to become Dumbledore's spy in order to get closer to you. However, you rejected all his gifts and invitations, burning them into the fireplace as soon as they arrived.

You were intelligent enough to know about his plan, but as evil and cruel as Tom was, he was also a genius.

When Tom kidnapped you, you had screamed all the curses in the world at him, refusing for him to even touch you. However, it silenced down when you saw several death eaters pointing their wands to the necks of your little sister and other family members.

You were a rebel and if Tom tried to take you with the threat of hurting your family, he knew you would continue to reject him. After all, actions speak louder than words, and as the death eaters began to torture your family, you finally got on your knees and pleaded for him to stop. Tom was more than pleased with your actions, but to ensure that you will stay true to your promise, he demanded a kiss from you, which you reluctantly gave in the form of a peck on the lips.

Though Tom had spared your family, he will make sure you never see them again. One way or another, no matter how many times you plead and beg to see them, he will rip you away from your family for the sole reason so that your focus would not waver from him. Yeah, he's that possessive of you.

Speaking of being possessive, Tom from the beginning of the relationship will always make sure you are covered in the finest silk and most rarest yet stunning jewellery. You might try to refuse them at first, but you don't quite get it. All of the fine dresses, luxurious clothes and expensive jewellery that he had picked out for you was also his way to tell others that you're his, that you're his possession. Try to refuse it and he will punish you.

There are various of punishments Tom can give you. It depends on what you have done that made him measure how severe the punishment should go, but it also depended on his mood. If Tom was only lightly jealous, he'll most likely just leave marks on you like hickeys and bruises. However, if Tom was severely jealous.. then prepare yourself. Tom had once fucked you in front of two of your old friends whom he had taken as prisoner as a way to humiliate you after you had tried to communicate with them in their cells. Just don't defy him, okay? It won't end up good for you.

Other than that though, Tom will take care of you. He feeds you well, pampers you and even shower you with affection from time to time, which you always try to refuse. Tom tries to spend some time with you whenever he has the time, even with the ongoing war. Tom doesn't usually allow you to be out of the manor, but with his company, he allows you to wander around the garden and as much as you hate his company, a bit of fresh air will certainly do you good after being stuck inside for a long time.

However, with all that, he expects you to do your duties as well. You both might not be married yet, but Tom already views you as his wife, the only thing lacking is a wedding ring between your fingers and a ceremony. It will happen sooner than later. But due to it, you became the lady of the manor is your job to make sure that everything was going well in your 'home', telling the servants on what they must do to keep the cleanliness of the house.

And oh, on that note, you're not able to ask for them to help you escape. You learnt that the hard way because the day after you had tried to ask them, all of their tongues had disappeared, unable to speak properly anymore.

Tom desires to flaunt you to the public after making your relationship with him 'official'. However, he will only start bringing you to balls after he was sure that you will behave and Tom might just make a potion to help with that. He considers it as one of the duties you have to perform as his partner. But oh my, you do look ravishing in that tight dress he picked out for you.

At times during the night, you found Tom rubbing your stomach, eyes full of desire, as he thought fondly of children. He had been unsure of starting a family before. Of course Tom needed an heir, but he didn't think he would ever find himself wanting more children until he met you. It didn't matter if you didn't want children. Sooner or later, before or after marriage, you will be swollen with his child. And what better way to ensure an heir than start now?

[thestarsarebrightertonight]

oh baby its blue flame // tom riddle x fem reader

"will-o the-wisp, babe oh baby its blue flame!"

playlist : blue flame - lesserafim

summary : tom is cold and closed off , theres something off about him and most people know that. so why are you so drawn to him like a moth to the flame?

ravenclaw reader , use of y/n , tom is nicer, AU he isnt voldemort or evil LMAO

masterlist

"youre staring again. even a blind man could see youre staring." your best friend cassandera stated blankly , sat next to you in potions and watching you stare dreamily at a very focused tom riddle.

"i cant help it! hes just so handsome and interesting dont you think?" you whispered back , trying not to gain the attention of mindlessly waffling slughorn.

"handsome? 100%. interesting? more like terrifying!" she whispered back.

you rolled your eyes at this , "i dont get why everyone is so scared of him , hes beautiful and polite."

"yeah well the devil was once beautiful too," she mumbled in dissaproval as you gasped dramatically.

"you did not just compare him to the devil!" you gaped in suprise and slight amusement.

"he seemed pretty devilish when he took away house points because we were in the corridors one minute after cerfew!!" she whisper shouted , reliving the anger she felt when a uninterested tom riddle took away 10 points each from us.

"that was kinda mean of him," you nodded in quiet contemplation.

"oh dont act like you were upset- you admired him and said 'yes tom' like a lovesick puppy!" she scoffed.

"its not my fault the darkness of the corridor made his complexion a little more angelic than usual!" you shrugged as you both gigged.

"miss y/l/n , question 4?" slughorn asked , snapping you back into the harsh reality that you were currently meant to be doing potions.

"huh? oh uhh...well....pheonix feather?" you asked timidly as the whole class laughed only to be shushed by slughorn who held a disapproving look.

"maybe you would know the question if you werent so focussed on talking to miss cassandera." he shook his head as you sheepishly apoligised ,"mr riddle do you have a question?"

you eyes shot to tom who had his hand up , awaiting slughorns attention.

"amortentia," he stated simply as slughorn nodded , stating he was correct. you watched tom for a second longer , startled when his eyes looked at you , a visible smirk on his lips.

you widened your eyes in suprise and looked away quickly , startled and nervous.

"please tell me you saw that." you said sternly , staring forward at nothing as cassandera who did the same nodded with an equally shocked face.

"he smirked." she stated as you nodded.

"and it was hot."

---

later that day you sat on a stone bench , reading with cassandera beside you doing the same thing, until you were interrupted by a shadow blocking the sun that shone on you just seconds before.

groaning in frustration you look up to see who had blocked your light , completely paralysed in shock to see tom riddle looking down at you.

"i thought ravenclaws were smart. however you dont seem to even have the capacity of focusing in lesson." he said so coldy you felt a chill run down your spine.

"what? i...i just got distracted." you stuttered , flustered by his presence and rudeness.

"by me." he stated simply making a bright blush heat up your cheeks , "youd be suprised how easy it is to hear someone sat two rows behind you in a relitively silent classroom."

your whole body burned in embrassament as cassandera pretended to be interested in the floor , secretly listening to the conversation you had with tom.

"oh merlin i- im so sorry i-" you stuttered , not even wanting to make eye contact.

"your confidence was endearing." he again said so blankly , "itd be a shame if i found you in the corridor after cerfew tonight, no? id have to deduct points no doubt."

you were shocked by his flirting? what in the world is happening.

"yeah itd be a shame, i do have a lot of homework to catch up with at the library , i worry it could run over cerfew," you finally looked back up and regained your lost confidence.

he looked down , a faint smirk on his face , "funny thing i cover the librarys corridor. see you then."

he then walked away again , leaving the courtyard and disappearing into the crowds , leaving you to gape after the ghost of his presence.

"i never thought that man would be capable of flirting. never." cassandera muttered in pure shock , both of your jaws on the floor.

"i need to go to the library." you said throwing the book you held and grabbing your satchel in a hurry before walking away.

"hell yeah you do , run bitch!" cassandera happily cheered for you from the bench.

[ariaxmu]

angel.

tom riddle x reader

summary: you get sick, tom freaks out and then you realize his feelings for you :3. i have kind of gotten rid of the element of evil with tom here, he is blunt and a little quiet but is sweet. oh and he calls you angel.

warnings: little kisses, flirting, tension.

walking into potions, i try to act as if i am fine. except my disheveled appearance might give that away. my head throbbing in pain, my throat dry, sore and voice croaky, nose sniffly. i feel so, so warm. it's rare i get sick, so when i do it hits me hard. but i cannot miss these classes, exams coming around quickly and i can't afford to miss out.

i sit down next to my potions partner and one of my best friends, tom, smiling softly at him as i do. ''hi tom'' i croak out a whisper, coughing a little to cover up the loss of voice i'm working with.

he furrows his eyebrows, ''hey angel, you look sick. are you sick?'' he asks.

''uh- a little, yeah. but i'm okay'' i say softly, opening up my books.

''why did you come to class? you should have told me you were sick.'' he sighs, seemingly a little frustrated. i frown.

''sorry- i can move seats today if you're worried i'll get you sick-''

''don't be ridiculous. i meant it as i could have taken care of you'' he mutters, side eyeing our friends behind us to make sure they didn't hear him.

''i won't burden you with that. besides, i am fine. and i cannot afford to miss out on any classes. especially this one.'' i mumble, feeling a tickly creep up in my throat as i start up on my little coughing fit.

''miss y/l/n? are you feeling well?'' i hear professor slughorn call out to me as he walks into class. i groan internally.

''i'm okay, professo-'' cough, cough, cough.

''oh miss y/l/n, please do go see madam pomfrey. she will have potions which will clear that up within the hour.'' he nods his head. ''besides, we don't need the entire class getting sick do we?'' he says kindly enough, and his concern was genuine, but i could have thrown my book at him.

''okay, sir'' i sigh, sad. i'm already failing this class, this is the worst thing that would have happened.

''don't worry angel, just go get some rest.'' tom says, brushing a piece of my hair away from my sweaty forehead. i pout, grabbing my books as i stand up to leave the classroom. i sulk to myself as i make my way to madam pomfrey. not only am i missing the class, but as i higher year potions is now a double class, meaning it lasts for three. hours. and that is the only class i have where i get to sit close to tom for that amount of time.

i've been close friends with tom for a good few years now, us getting a lot closer over the years. everybody says, 'it's so obvious how crazy you are about each other!', but i strongly believe it is only obvious that i am crazy about him.

the feelings started to grow the more we grew. he's always been slightly more kind to me than he is to others. he's strict with me, sure, a little over protective. but i'm sure he just sees me as a sister more than anything else. as much as it hurts.

madam pomfrey gives me around three potions, she told me they would make me feel drowsy so it's best to take a nap and when i wake up i should feel a little better. as long as the headache is better, i'll be happy. so i head up to my dorm for a much needed nap.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧

i yawn opening my eyes, rolling over to check the clock. 6pm? i widen my eyes, body shooting up out of bed. i slept all. day?!

so not only did i miss potions, i would have also missed herbology, defense against the dark arts AND transfiguration? i feel tears prick at my eyes, feeling frustrated with myself for not waking up to the alarm i had set. wiping my tears away, annoyed with myself, i at least should go and eat some dinner, and i do feel a lot better.

i get re- dressed, brushing my hair and putting a little makeup on so i don't look completely like a zombie, i head down to the great hall for dinner.

''there she is, sleeping beauty'' pansy grins, as i rush to sit down beside them.

''i'm so annoyed with myself, i slept through my alarm and missed all four of my double classes today. i am screwed.'' i sigh, eyes a little watery from just pure stress and frustration.

''well it appears lover boy has a little surprise for you'' pansy smirks, nodding her head at tom, who is glaring at her from the nickname.

i glance over at him, and he's holding a bunch of books and papers. i furrow my eyebrows, ''what is that?''.

''well when you left potions i took notes for you about well, everything we went over in the class. and then i came to check on you, and you were still asleep, so i just took notes for every class on everything we went over today.'' he says gently, a little red glowing on his cheeks as everybody watches with cheeky grins.

''oh- tom, you didn't have to do all of that. it must've taken so long'' i say, heart swelling with love as i stare at him.

''eh, didn't take that long.'' he shrugs, passing my the notes as he scoots a little closer to me.

''except he kept asking the professors to repeat everything so he could make sure he got it right, and he even highlighted the key words because he knows you read it easier that way, an-''

''okay, enough'' tom snaps at her, groaning, before turning to me. ''but if you need any help, i can help you''.

''thank you tom'' i say nervously, smiling with a soft blush.

pansy smirks at me, mouthing 'he likes you!' with a grin. okay, i can see why she thinks this. but... he could be doing this for me as a good friend too, right? i certainly would do this for one of my friends, leaving me stumped.

''eat this, it'll help you feel even better, especially with the three potions you had.'' tom mumbles, passing me some food over.

''w- how do you know i had three?'' i furrow my eyebrows.

''i went to madam pomfrey to see if she gave you the right stuff, and if it was safe to take them.'' he shrugs, so nonchalantly as he munches on his food.

my god. i'm utterly in love.

''i'm going to the bathroom. i'll be back in a second, angel'' he says to me, standing up and walking out.

i watch him wide eyed as he leaves, my love growing even more than it was before, which i didn't deem possible. i glance at pansy,

''you need to make a move on him, i swear. he won't tell you how he feels because he is too stubborn. he will just keep doing cute things and flirting with you until you lose your mind.'' she says quickly. i nod at her, taking a bite of my food waiting for him to come back. i brainstorm for a moment, thinking of how to get us sneakily in a romantic situation so i can tell him how i feel.

he comes back, sitting directly beside me again. i turn my head over to him, smiling softly. ''uhm, tom?'' i whisper, so nobody else can hear me.

''yes, angel?'' he says, sipping some of his water.

''do you- um, do you want to help me study these notes tonight?'' i say softly.

''of course. we were all planning on going to the library after dinner, anyway''. he nods.

i hum, ''i was thinking more.. just us two? i know you're on prefect duties tonight so... maybe we could go there when everybody else is in bed?'' i say, cheeks bright pink.

''oh.'' he says, looking at me a little shocked, he must realize i'm essentially asking him on a study date. nerves fuel my entire body as this answer kind of entails whether he maybe likes me back or not.

he tilts his head to the side, ''you're asking me to break the rules?'' with a small smirk. heat floods my face, i stutter a little, not knowing what to say. ''you're cute. i'll meet you there at 10.'' he says bluntly as i nod, fiddling with my fingers.

''okay. awesome, cool, okay,'' i nod, trying to calm myself down as i continue to eat. if that part made me so nervous, how on earth am i going to tell him how i feel, or to make a move? i gulp down my food, trying to calm myself down more.

he smirks at me once more, ''i'll see u later, angel'' he says, before standing up and leaving the great hall.

im screwed.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧

“cmon, we’ve almost finished all of the notes. you can finish these last few.” he says softly as i begin to yawn.

“fine” i breathe out, very sleepily but happy to be here with him. it’s now around midnight, and we’re tucked away into a cosy corner of the library, him helping me study.

somehow over the last two hours he has made his way suuuper close to me, his chair practically pressed against mine, his thigh rubbing the side of mine. very close.

it feels, romantic. i know what we are doing isn’t, but being here with him just feels like perfection. the moonlight shining in on his face, he’s letting his guard down more and more. smiling more, able to laugh and have flirty teasing with me. i just adore it.

“so you missed only a couple things today in herbology- you are amazing at this so, i only jotted down things i didn’t think you knew. did you know-” he mutters along, but stops talking when the notices my gaze on him. “what?” he says, cheeks flushed.

“o-oh! nothing” i gulp.

“you were staring?” he says, smirking a tiny bit.

“no i wasn’t.”

“oh yes you were, angel.” he says, leaning back on his chair, hands resting on his stomach. his muscles flexing ever so slightly, the plain black shirt accentuating them. his hair a little messy, cheeks flushed and lips wet from drinking water. god, he just looks so good.

“~and you’re staring again.” he teased.

“shuttup” i blush, looking away.

“hey. no, keep your eyes on me pretty girl” he mumbles, grabbing my chin with his finger s

“w-what?” i whisper out, confused.

“you heard me.” he whispers back.

i look at him for a moment, the tension growing between us as my face warms up. ''i need to tell you something'' i blurt out.

he raises an eyebrow, putting the book down and turning to me. ''go ahead, angel.''

''u-uh'' i start, taking a deep breath. ''i like you, tom'' i whisper.

''i know.''

''you- you know?'' i say, confused.

''obviously.''

''do you.. do you like me back?'' i furrow my eyebrows.

''yes. i thought you knew?'' he says, genuinely puzzled.

''w- how would i know that?'' i exclaim.

''because i make it really obvious?'' he says, scooching his chair closer to mine. ''who else would i have taken double notes for all day and then break the schools rules to study with until 1am?'' he smirks softly.

my face is burning.

''so- this whole time you knew i liked you and you liked me. why didn't you say anything?'' i furrow my brows, looking into his pretty eyes.

''i don't know... i guess i never thought i was good enough for you.'' he mumbles, shrugging nonchalantly as he if he didn't just say the most gut wrenching thing ever.

''you- are you serious? i'm not good enough for you.'' i say, scooting closer to him. ''i thought you saw me as a sister or something'' i shrug.

''trust me, the feelings i have for you are anything but that'' he murmurs, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. my cheeks go rosy pink as he does. ''i'm crazy about you'' he whispers.

''i'm crazy about you'' i grin, he brushes his thumb against my cheek.

our eyes met, and in that silent exchange, a thousand unspoken words passed between us. tom's gaze was tender, full of admiration, while my eyes sparkled with a mix of shyness and anticipation. the world around us faded into a blur as we leaned in.

our lips touched softly at first, a gentle meeting that was both hesitant and electric. it was as if the kiss was a delicate dance, each movement a step closer to something profound and beautiful. the warmth of our embrace enveloped us, and for that brief moment, everything else disappeared.

his lips are so, so soft and comforting. i could kiss him for a lifetime.

when we finally pulled away, our foreheads rested against each other. the kiss had been more than just a touch; it was a promise.

''god, i love you'' he whispers.

''i love you.''

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧

[deadghosy]

SLYTHERIN BOYS WITH A CHAOS MAGIC USER

Request: Hiii I really love the way you write and I'm in love with you profile's theme !<3. Can I please request a Slytherin boys x reader (platonic or romantic), where reader has the Chaos Magic powers (like Wanda in Marvel) ? I apologize if my English isn't correct, it's not my native language.

A/N: I love Wanda!! Also thank you <3! This can be both seen as platonic or romantic.

Ft. The riddles, Lorenzo Berkshire, & Theodore Nott

Tom Riddle

Terrible duo, an evil man and a chaos user.

Chaos will rain down as you walked with red eyes while using your powers. And Tom is just smiling that evil grin. Proud to have you by his side. Y’know that scene when Wanda was like “what mouth?” Yeah..Tom found that hot and weirdly disturbing in the back of his head

But in all honesty, he finds you endearing. He loves how you reek of powerful. You are his most prized weapon and closet thing he will deem his future counter part.

Absolutely loves when you twist people’s mind and force them do things they can’t control themselves.

The amount of energy you carry also helps him in missions.

He’s very lucky indeed.

Mattheo Riddle

As much as I believe he might not be like his brother, this riddle brother will absolutely do some slight evil shit.

Make you twist people’s minds and what they are thinking.might make you erase someone’s existence if that person makes him mad..to the point he wants to kill them.

But when you read his mind about how hot you seem when scaring someone. You immediately tease him that you can hear his thoughts.

So now mattheo blocked you from his head. Whoops! 🤷🏾 got blocked as if you’re some kind of ex is crazy. But honestly you kept teasing him about his thoughts.

Honestly you two are a chaotic duo when angered.

A deadly duo indeed.

Theodore Nott

“Can you trick someone that they’re in the bathroom?”

Immediately makes you trick a random student to humiliate.

Honestly he’s a slight a little bully, that’s the Slytherin in him. But he does love a little laugh.

But it’s hard to do little pranks when your eyes glow red, so he just makes you look like you’re hugging him so you don’t get caught.

When you read his mind, he’s just spamming in his native language so you don’t understand it. But he knows you could probably alter it.

“Stop reading my mind cara mia.” “No.”

You are terribly amazing…

Lorenzo Berkshire

Is slightly..nah he’s absolutely scared of you

The way you can just turn someone into mush or just erase them makes him scared to get on your bad side

So when you were actually nice to him. He liked it. Though he was still cautious.

But he loves how you comfort him at times.

You sometimes make butterflies appear, tricking his mind into happiness if he is sad.

He enjoys it but sometimes it doesn’t help that he knows it’s fake.

When you read his mind, he finds it awkward and weird knowing you can just read it without no hesitation

He knows he can count on you when battles get tricky. He knows he can count on you to protect him.

But who’s gonna protect against you when you snap on day?

[drawlfoy]

the benefits of journaling p.1

pairing: diary!tom riddle x ravenclaw!reader

summary: you pick up an unassuming journal in diagon alley during an antiques sale without knowing that it's actually a part of a late dark lord's soul. sort of no voldy AU, set in the golden trio era where voldemort was defeated in the first war and thus harry has parents still.

warnings: she/her pronouns/reader that stays in the girl's dorms, language, eventual discussion of murder and whatnot but not yet!, you being a little femcel-aligned/obsessed, tom being awkward because he's been stuck in a diary without talking to anyone for 50 years, i fumble around trying to explain how to brew potions after taking only one semester of high school biology

please note that this tom riddle is definitely not the same tom riddle that dumbledore describes in canon. i read a few meta posts that rewired my brain and now my tom riddle is ~complicated~ and not just evil and murdery for the plot. so just keep that in mind lol

a/n: whoa is this....something other than draco on this blog? yes. im suffering right now and needed to get this out. hopefully i can get this longfic completed within 2-3 parts! i'm not using my usual taglist because i don't know how many of my draco readers want this

wc: 10k

The day you unknowingly bought a part of the late Lord Voldemort’s soul was like any other. It was overcast, the thick clouds a somber, humid ceiling hanging above you and Lucy as you made your way through the annual antiques sale in a dusty corner of Diagon Alley.

“Y/N,” said your companion for the day—a slight, freckled witch with mushroom brown waves and a perpetual smile etched into her mouth. “Look. This is so you.”

You looked up from the bookshelves of one of the stands. It took you a moment to see what she was holding, but once it came into focus, you rolled your eyes. “Oh, sod off. Not funny.” 

Lucy just cackled, tossing the crudely carved wooden snake back onto the pile wearing a wicked grin. 

The world is cruel in that you can scream once when you see Draco Malfoy’s pet ball python in third year and no one ever lets you forget it. 

You turned away from Lucy, looking back to the old bookshelf that had been moved onto the cobbled street. The rich mahogany wood was close to buckling under the weight of all the tomes stacked haphazardly atop each other—far more than would be advisable. 

But it wasn’t just the furniture that caught your eye. No, it was the glimpse of a black spine on the bottom, partially hidden away by an ancient encyclopedia on arithmancy. 

You knelt, carefully arranging your robes so that they wouldn’t pick up dust from the street. You narrowly managed to avoid sending all the books on top tumbling into the street by slowly sliding it out from under the stack.

An unimpressively sized black journal laid in your hand, looking entirely unassuming and incredibly boring. 

You frowned. A quick flip-through confirmed that it was in fact a journal—and that there was nothing written in it. 

Why would someone try to sell an unused journal at an antiques market? You wondered, turning it over in your hand. Though its pages appeared entirely pristine, you could see some wear on the cover. There were no markings detailing when it had been manufactured.

It could very well have been an antique journal, you conceded. But why anyone would want an empty journal made years ago was beyond you.

You went to set the journal back onto the stack, getting so far as to nearly loosen your grip and let it drop from your fingers, when—

You had to buy this journal. 

You weren’t sure why, or how. You just knew that this journal was coming home with you today, even if it was the least interesting thing you could’ve come across in your shopping trip.

“What’s that?” asked Lucy, appearing at your side and gently taking the journal from you. 

“Just an empty journal, I think,” you answered, staring blankly at it in her hands. 

“You know we can just get a normal new one at the bookstore, right?” 

“Well, I like this one,” you heard yourself say. “It has…character.”

“Character.” She snorted, holding it up next to her face. “This is the most bland looking thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

“Consider yourself blind, then. Surely they’ll charge you twice the cost for this since it’s allegedly ‘vintage’.” Lucy made liberal use of air quotes. “You sure you don’t want to stop by the bookstore before we go? It’ll be on our way.”

“No, it’s really fine,” you said, taking it back into your hands, “I really like this one for some reason. I don’t know. There’s just something about it.”

Lucy tilted her head, giving it one last odd look. “Whatever you say. You go check out, then. Mum’s going to expect me back soon and the queue looks a bit long.” 

The journal sat in your bag for the remainder of the summer, nearly forgotten as you went about your day. You opened it for the first time to examine it on August 31st, just a day before you were off to begin your 6th year.

There was writing that you hadn’t noticed before—thin, elegant script on the inside of the cover in black lettering. A simple “Property of Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

You stared, letting your finger trace gently across the parchment. There was a slight indentation at the lower swoop of the last letter “L”, like whoever had written it had pressed a little too hard with his quill. 

“Tom Marvolo Riddle,” you whispered, trying the syllables out on your tongue. You’d never heard of any wizard named that before. You wondered how long it had been since those words had been written. You wondered if Tom Marvolo Riddle was still alive, and if he was, why he saw it fit to mark his property and then swiftly lose its custody to an antiques dealer. 

Oh well. Sucks to suck, you thought dryly as you took the quill that you’d been using to finish updating your calendar and lifted it over the parchment. Whatever happened to the crusty old dinosaur that hadn’t even been able to make one full entry into his own journal before croaking or whatever was none of your business.

You’d barely started out how you imagined a normal person would begin a diary—a date, August 31st—when it suddenly became clear why this Tom fellow had been unable to leave a lasting mark. 

The ink hadn’t even begun to dry before it sank into the pages, disappearing in a blink of an eye.

“What the fuck,” you mumbled, dumbstruck. You dipped your quill in ink once again and drew a series of short slashes across the first page, using more ink than was strictly necessary.

In a moment it was as if they had never been there.

WHAT??? You wrote mindlessly in the freshly blank page as your mind spun. What kind of magic was this? And what was the point? 

No wonder you’d been drawn to it. It was probably dripping in all sorts of charms. Maybe the combination had been unintentionally alluring to particular passerbys. 

Before you could think any further, the clean page transformed again, but not at your hand.

Hello.

The word assembled letter by letter, as if a ghost was writing it over your shoulder. 

It seems you've found my journal.

You stared. A journal that could write back to you. Huh. A smile caught on your lips as you became glad after all that you’d chosen this one over a plain bookstore version. 

How old are you? You wrote, resting your chin in your palm as you waited for a response as to whether or not your new acquisition actually belonged at the antiques market. 

Sixteen.

You frowned. That was hardly vintage.

This was made sixteen years ago?

The response appeared quickly..

No. I'm sixteen.

Yeah. You were made sixteen years ago.

This time, the journal seemed to hem and haw at the response.

What year is it? Was the final answer that appeared.

What year do you think?

1943. 

A little off. you wrote impishly.

Oh really?

Just a smidge.

Define a smidge, please. 

What does it matter to you?

This seemed to stump the journal. 

May I ask who I have the pleasure of speaking with?

You may not. Then, because you had nothing better to do, you dipped your quill and drew out a Tic-Tac-Toe board, placing an X in the middle.

The board disappeared into the page, and for a moment you wondered if you’d annoyed your magical journal too much. But then it reappeared, this time with an O in the middle.

You huffed. When you took too long to respond, another line appeared below. 

I'm Tom. Tom Riddle.

You stared at the letters, the implications sinking in. If the journal had belonged to Tom—who was presumably a real person at some point in his life—then that would mean…which meant…

In seconds you’d slammed the journal shut and had your wand out, poking at the binding and being careful to avoid touching it again with your bare hands. Stupid, stupid you, buying something that had so clearly been engineered to lure you in, just like it probably had done to Tom back in the 40s. 

The antique market rarely had issues with unknowingly cursed objects. They were allegedly thoroughly vetted by the stand officials to ensure that something like this didn’t happen. But perhaps this one had fallen through the cracks.

There was nothing you could do for now except to wrap the journal in a blanket and throw it into your suitcase. As a muggleborn, there was going to be no real magic for you until tomorrow on the train. 

Better to investigate then, you decided firmly. With access to spellwork, you could at least cast protective wards around yourself and try to detect what exactly was wrong with it the next time you touched it. 

Yes, you thought. That cannot possibly go wrong.

~

“Y/N!” 

“Sorry, what was that?” You blearily blinked in the direction of Lucy and Ishan, both sitting there with an expectant look on their faces. 

“I was saying that I’m pretty sure that Parkinson and Malfoy are actually together this time,” said Lucy, frowning. “I just came from the loo and his head was in her lap. Revolting, to be entirely honest. I can’t believe I had to see that with my own eyes. But whatever. Are you feeling alright? You keep spacing out.”

“I’m fine.” You pulled the fabric of your robe over your wrist so you could gently scrub at your eyes. “Just—tough night last night. I barely slept.”

“I totally get that,” mused Lucy, nodding as her gaze fixed itself on the window. “I can normally never get to sleep the night before we leave. I just get so excited for the new year.”

You smiled. “Yeah.” 

But that hadn’t been your problem. Despite the creepy journal encounter that had left you with your mind spinning, you’d fallen asleep deeply the moment you’d gotten into bed. The issue had been staying asleep after all the dreams you’d had. 

You rarely dreamt. When you did and remembered it the next day, it was normally nonsensical and had to do with forgotten final exams or missing a lecture. But last night…last night had been different.

There was a boy. His hair was dark and his face cast mostly in shadow, his voice a tenor that seemed typical to boys in your year. He hadn’t been speaking anything you’d understood, though. The most peculiar, bone-chilling hissing noises came from his mouth as he bowed his head leaned over a vaguely familiar sink. 

Even though he wouldn’t acknowledge you, it was as if a channel had been opened between you two, like you could feel his emotions as phantoms within you. 

Franticness. Vindictiveness. A thirst for vengeance beyond anything you’d ever felt before.

You sat watching this mysterious dark haired boy from the cobbled floor, feeling the wetness on the stones seep into your robes, climbing up and up until it soaked your skin. 

At precisely 4 in the morning, you’d shot awake so distressed that you hadn’t slept a wink after. Needless to say, you were hardly what you’d consider to be well-rested.

The remainder of the train ride and the welcoming feast went on without a hitch. You managed to keep yourself from falling asleep at dinner and even joined in on the cheering for new Ravenclaws. The first years seemed to look younger and younger every year, you noted dully as you cut into the roast on your plate. It was making you feel awfully old.

Sixth year was supposed to be exciting—the year of N.E.W.T.S and figuring out what you’d concentrate in during your final year and getting to go to Hogsmeade without permission. But you hadn’t quite figured out what it was that you wanted to study. Being a muggleborn from a modest upbringing meant that you couldn’t be too frivolous. There was no amateur art or sports or celebrity career in your future. You couldn’t even count on marrying well—or marrying at all, in fact. None of your halfblood or pureblood friends seemed to understand that your family hadn’t already had an engagement arranged for you from the moment you were born. It was hard to look forward to a life that was so cloaked in uncertainty. 

That being said, you had more immediate concerns to attend to. Though the journal was tucked safely away in one of your suitcases far away in the Ravenclaw Tower, you couldn’t help but feel its presence. You were itching to get back to your dorm so you could steal away into a corner and begin to inspect it. 

Dumbledore finally dismissed the students after a rather uninspiring speech about the importance of dreaming big and staying true to yourself. You all but ran up the stairs, rushing to unpack all of your things.

“Merlin,” noted Padma from her desk. “That excited to move in?”

“I just want to go to bed,” you said, relishing the feeling of casting a spell to quickly stow away your skirts and button ups into your dresser. “Long day.”

“And even longer tomorrow.” Lucy was sitting at her desk, her feet crossed at the ankles. She’d somehow unpacked even quicker than you. “Does everyone have their finalized timetable for the term?”

“I’ve got Potions with Slughorn and Transfiguration with McGonagall on Mondays and Thursdays,” you began, unzipping your last bag and flicking your wand to send your school supplies to your desk. “Divination with Trelawney, Arithmancy with Vector, and Runes with Babbling on Tuesdays and Fridays. And of course the extended lab section on Wednesday for Potions.”

“Which lab section?”

“Morning,” you said. The diary was levitating from your wand now, looking unassuming and very innocent under the golden light of your dorm room. “You?”

“Same,” said Lucy, grinning. “I can’t believe you’re taking N.E.W.T level Divination. Do you hate yourself?”

“It was that or History of Magic.”

She nodded emphatically, turning back to make a marking in her planner.

With the dorm settled into a comfortable silence, you brandished your wand again, peering at the diary in front of you. 

There was nothing outwardly sinister about it. When you’d gone over to Ishan’s manor over Easter break last year, he’d shown you some of the (potentially unlawful) darker artifacts that his old pureblood family had in possession. They’d felt dark. This journal didn’t have that syrupy thick feel around it. Its aura felt sparkly, magnetic. Surely it couldn’t have been dark magic. Because all dark magic felt dark, right?

You gulped. You wouldn’t touch it with your bare hands anymore, you reasoned. Just spellwork and using the tip of your wand to maneuver it. Just in case.

Your 5 years of Hogwarts education had left you sorely deficient in useful diagnostic spells, so you dug around in one of your Defense Against the Dark Arts textbooks from previous years and found a section on spells to examine magical objects. 

Revelo you whispered, feeling the slight jolt of magic as the charm left your wand. 

Nothing, It didn’t even glow blue, a sign of magically active objects. 

Huh. 

You frowned. The slightly more obscure spell you’d heard Snape use once on a student’s suspiciously well-written essay didn’t yield anything either. 

“Whatcha doing?’

You nearly screamed, clutching your wand to your chest. 

Lucy grinned wickedly as she leaned over your shoulder and reached for your journal. “Ooh, is this that thing you bought at—”

“Don’t touch!” You quickly batted her hand away. 

“Sheesh,” said Lucy. “Chill. I wasn’t going to read it or anything. I was just wondering why you were waving your wand at your journal. Secrecy spells?”

“No,” you said. Your heart was racing, “Er—not quite. I actually haven’t written in it, you see,”

“Oh?” Lucy’s brows furrowed in confusion, “Explain the theatrics then?”

A half-baked lie formed at your lips that was about to spill when you stopped yourself. Lucy was your friend. She’d been your best friend since the moment you’d met on the Hogwarts Express during first year. There was no reason to lie.

“It’s so weird!” You motioned towards the diary with your wand. “I buy this, right, because I feel this weird draw to it. And I take it home and try to write in it, and suddenly the book starts writing back.”

“A self-writing journal?” 

“Not quite. Maybe. Maybe not, I’m not sure. It’s just—something’s not totally right about it, but I can’t tell if it’s dangerous or not.”

Lucy gave a good natured snort. “A journal? Dangerous? And from old Linda’s stand? Please. I see her going through everything in her inventory. The poor shopboy in charge of vetting items has to answer to her if he slips up. There’s no way anything actually powerful slipped onto the stacks.” 

You stuck the tip of your wand under the cover and carefully pried it open, pointing at the lettering on the inside. 

“Tom Marvolo Riddle?” She frowned. “Am I supposed to know that name?”

“I don’t know,” you responded at the swooping lettering. “But the journal talked back like it was Tom. Like, it introduced itself as Tom and said that it was 1943. And it acted like an….I don’t know. It was like it was a real person talking to me.”

“Huh.” You could see the gears slowly turning in Lucy’s head,

“Do you know any detection or diagnostic spells?” you asked. “I tried all the ones that we’ve learned so far and it doesn’t even detect magic. But it has to be cursed, right? If the last owner of this diary got sucked into it?”

Lucy was just beginning to open her mouth when ink began to appear.

It is rather rude to be casting all sorts of spells in my direction without warning.

You jumped. “Jesus Christ. Do you see that?”

“Yeah, I do,” said Lucy, but her eyes were crinkled. “Girl. Don’t worry. If it was dangerous, you’d probably know by now. You’ve had it around you for, what, two months? And you’ve already touched it. It doesn’t feel dark. I don’t think there are any slow burning curses that gradually trap you inside an object. If you’re still alright, you’ll probably stay that way. Maybe you should just ask Tom how he got there?”

“If I start disappearing, do try to keep me in this plane.”

“Noted.”

Nervously, you dipped a quill on your desk into an inkwell, waiting for a moment before thinking up how to word your request. In the meantime, a drop of ink fell to the page. It was quickly swallowed up by the parchment.

Sorry you began. Just wanted to make sure you weren't going to trap me in there with you or something

An understandable concern

“Just ask him the bloody question,” said Lucy, hitting your shoulder. “I want to go to bed.” 

“Right, right.” 

If you'd like me to stop with the spells, maybe you could tell me how you ended up in here in the first place

“Nice,” said Lucy. She was nodding thoughtfully. “Very smooth.” 

It took a long time for Tom’s answer to appear despite the fact that your writing had almost instantly disappeared. Finally, black ink began to rise. 

It was an accident. Nothing that can be replicated by you, however. There's no need to worry. I fooled around with the wrong book in the school library.

“School library?” Lucy leaned closer so that the locks of her hair dangled over your shoulder. “Ask him if he went to Hogwarts.”

Hogwarts? You wrote quickly. 

Yes.

In your sixth year?

Yes.

“Ooh.” Lucy hit your shoulder. “Maybe you can use this to get comfortable talking to boys, Y/N.”

You scoffed, blushing a hot red. “Excuse me! I’ve told you. I’m too busy for that.”

“Uh huh.” She twirled a piece of her hair around her finger. “Well, I think you should just keep it. It’s harmless. Like I said, it’s from one of the tamest parts of Diagon Alley. And you wouldn’t be able to get anything genuinely dark into Hogwarts. The wards would’ve detected it. Have fun with it.”

“Have fun with it?”

Lucy shrugged, bouncing once as she settled down on her bed. “I dunno. Think about it. I think a responding diary could be fun. Let’s say I’m not around to gossip one day. You have another outlet. Or maybe you could use him to help you study or something. Really, the possibilities are endless.” 

“True.” You mulled over the thought as you let your wand sit on its stand on your desk. Tentatively you grasped the soft leather of the journal and pulled it nearer to you. Tom was waiting for your response, after all. 

Me too you wrote.

And you still won't tell me your name?

“Do you think it’s a bad idea to tell him my name?” you asked Lucy, whipping around.

She set down her book and shook her head. “What’s he gonna do with it? He’s stuck in there.” 

Y/N. 

A splotch of black appeared on the other end, but it was quickly crossed out. 

How did you find me?

Antiques sale in Diagon Alley

I'm an antique?

Given that 1943 was over 50 years ago, yes

Nothing from Tom.

Is that not what you expected? You added. 

I'm not sure

Just as you were about to close the journal and head to bed, Tom wrote again.

And how are you liking your time at Hogwarts?

It's nice. Fall term starts tomorrow. 

You thought about leaving it there, but for some reason the words began to spill out of you. 

It does feel weird being so close to graduating, though. I don’t know quite what it is that I want to do yet.

Oh? But surely you must have some idea.

You pressed the end of your quill to your lips, debating whether or not to share it with this mysterious Tom. In the end, Lucy’s previous comment was what made the scales tip. What did it matter? Tom wasn’t going to tell anyone.

I would really like to go for a cursebreaking mastery abroad, but that hinges on what happens in my N.E.W.Ts this year. I need an O in Potions. 

I was taking N.E.W.T Potions at the time that I was trapped, Tom wrote. Perhaps I can be of assistance.

I can’t ask that of you.

Please do. It’s terribly boring being all alone in here.

You swallowed, watching the ink slowly sink back into nothing. 

What do you mean? What’s it like being trapped?

It took a while for a response to form.

Quiet. You’re the first visitor I’ve ever had. I’m still in Hogwarts, technically, but there’s no one else here. 

I’m sorry you found yourself writing before you could stop yourself. That sounds very lonely.

I don’t mind being lonely. It does get a bit dull, though. 

“Luce,” you said, leaning over the back of your desk chair. “He just offered to help me with Potions.” 

“See? Useful.” 

I've got to go to bed now. First day of classes and whatnot. 

Best of luck

Can you sleep where you are?

I don’t need to but I can

The words chilled you somewhat, but you pushed the feeling away. 

Well, goodnight you wrote. 

Goodnight

~

How were classes?

The ink appeared the moment you flipped open the journal. It was already two weeks into term, and you’d written to Tom nearly every night. You were curled up in bed, your blankets pulled heavy around your lap and your pajamas clean and smelling of lavender. A mug of tea lay steaming on your bedside table, its tendrils barely visible in the dim golden light of the candle you’d lit. 

As expected you wrote, yawning. How was your day?

Oh, you know. Thrilling.

You snorted.

“What are you giggling about?” Lucy’s voice snapped you back into reality. You looked up to see her peeking over the textbook in her lap, a smirk etched deeply into her lips. 

“Nothing,” you said quickly, but the way you slammed the journal shut gave it away.

“Talking to your fake boyfriend, huh?” teased Lucy. 

“I’m not even going to answer that.” You rolled your eyes. “He’s a fucking journal. It’s not like he’s real.”

“Didn’t he say he was trapped in there?”

You huffed. “I guess. He seems to have accepted his position in life, though. It’s not like he’s begging for help.” 

“No,” agreed Lucy. “But just think about it. What if you did manage to get him out? How romantic would that be?”

“Oh my god, shut up!” 

Lucy ducked away from the pillow you lobbed in her direction, cackling maniacally all the way. 

There you are. I thought I’d bored you. 

The words reappeared within seconds of you reopening the journal. You tried to smother the way your lips turned upwards at the sight. 

Sorry you wrote back, hoping that Lucy was sufficiently distracted with her textbook and would give you a rest for the night. A friend wanted to talk.

Does this friend know about me?

You held your quill to your lips for a moment before you wrote back.

Yes. She loves to tease over how much time I spend writing to you 

I take it she doesn’t understand

Quite the contrary. She’s the one who encouraged me to write to you in the first place, in fact.

How so?

Something about how it would be nice to be able to tell my secrets to someone who could never tell anyone else

Tom’s response took a bit longer to appear this time around. 

Oh? Any you’d like to share now?

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked at the drying ink. 

You first.

For a minute, you thought that maybe Tom had disappeared. The parchment remained blank and clean. Maybe he’d gotten bored with you and had gone off to…whatever he did in his empty version of Hogwarts. 

Then the lettering appeared again. 

I used to have a pet snake when I was a child. I was an orphan, you see, and the other children thought that I was too strange to play with. I was terribly lonely. The matron took us to the beach once, and I found this little grass snake in the weeds. I stuck it in my pocket and took it back to the orphanage with me. 

You lived in a muggle orphanage? 

Yes. Obviously. Once I was amongst magicfolk, people did find me quite charming. 

Why’d you pick a snake?

I liked having someone—or something, I suppose—to talk to. 

You stared as the ink sunk back into nothing. Talk. Snakes. Talking?

Are you a Parselmouth? 

I’ve already given a secret Tom wrote. Your turn. 

Will you answer if I give you one?

That’s only fair. 

Secrets—you barely had those. You’d grown up sharing nearly everything with Lucy since you’d been paired up in first year Charms class. 

Not losing your nerve, are you?

I’m just thinking you quickly wrote back. I don’t have many secrets. 

Surely you do. 

This isn’t a very exciting secret. Heat rose to your cheeks as your quill scratched against the paper. But I haven’t told anyone this. 

Go on.

I can’t tell anyone this because they’ll think I’m annoying. I do really well in classes. But I feel like I’m never going to be smart enough. It seems like nothing that I ever do will be enough to stand out 

I understand more than you know

What do you mean?

I was sorted into Slytherin. Coming from such a modest background meant that I had to prove that I was worth the space I was taking up 

A swell of…something rose in you as you stared down at the paper. You tried to imagine this mysterious Tom in the familiar green robes that you saw every day in Potions, scrunching his nose up over a book and studying hard. All alone—motivated by the knowledge that no one was rooting for his success—knowing that there was no name he could depend on to cover even one misstep—

You blinked. Whoa. That was some serious projection. 

I can’t really tell this to anyone else. All of my friends come from influential pureblood families, so they just don’t get why I don’t get to make mistakes or slip up. They think I’m so uptight

Exactly. They all have safety nets. The grades, the house points, the prefect badges—those are all just surface level. It’s your name that gets you anywhere important 

“You’re looking mighty serious over there,” said Lucy from over her textbook. “Trouble in paradise?”

You laughed tightly. “Er, no. Just talking.” 

“Uh huh.”

I always feel like it’s evidence that I don’t belong when I don’t immediately understand something in class you add into the journal. To your horror, tears started pricking at your eyes. None of your friends were muggleborns. You’d never been able to voice these things out loud—or on paper, in this case. Writing it all out seemed so sad now. Like today in Runes. It took me longer than usual to understand a translation technique for this ridiculous slate from the Middle Ages. I had to talk myself down from believing that I’m faking it and that everyone else doesn’t even need to try

Is Babbling still there?

Yes. She’s still teaching 

She was already too old to be coherent when she was teaching me wrote Tom. Tell me, do you have to rennervate her throughout the lesson to keep her present?

She was old back then??? 

Ancient. 

I can’t believe she’s still alive. You chewed on your lip as you thought. She’s practically a fossil.

Do you think of me like that? Old?

Would it make you feel better if I said I considered you vintage? 

I’m wounded

“Fucking get to the library and start researching ways to pull that poor boy out of there,” said Lucy from her bed, “Or stop giggling like that. Merlin. You’re killing me. You’re practically twirling your hair.”

“Shut up!” Slowly, you opened the journal back up after slamming it closed.

Your friend again?

Yes you scribbled back. She’s teasing me again about how I should try to get you out of here. Which I’m assuming is impossible, since I’m doubtful you’re even a real person

I’m very real

Your blood cooled. 

Then why haven’t you asked me to get you out? 

A pause—just long enough for you to feel suspicious. 

I’ve gotten quite used to my little home in here wrote Tom finally. And forgive me if I believe it a bit forward to immediately demand the first person to which I speak to orchestrate my extraction. 

Extraction. Interesting word choice, you thought. 

How polite. Part of you was beginning to feel the slightest bit uneasy. And what would this so-called extraction entail? 

That I haven’t quite figured out yet. The response was instantaneous. Ever since we’ve met I’ve been returning to the library in hopes of finding an answer.

Which book trapped you in here?

Another pause. 

I sincerely doubt it’s still in print wrote Tom. It was a very dangerous book with dark, terrible magic. I had no business digging around in it. I paid the price dearly. 

He refused to elaborate.

You spent the entire weekend digging through the Restricted Section, paging through every book you could imagine that had anything to do with Tom’s situation.

Nothing. Nada. Zero. You tried every querying spell you could think of. You were desperate enough to recruit Madam Pince by telling her that you were writing a paper for a class and needed to find anything there was on getting yourself trapped in magical objects. What she did dig up was at best irrelevant—tales of ill-executed Animagi rituals that resulted in the wizard getting stuck in their animal form and reports of interactions with cursed objects sending the users into a different dimension, never to be heard from again. 

But as you were leaving the library on Sunday night, feeling downtrodden and profoundly disappointed, you saw something that caught your eye: the Alumni section. 

It was one of those things that you always passed by without another thought. No classwork required students to reference previous Hogwarts attendees. It existed largely to appease the old families by nodding to their longstanding presence in Hogwarts, and the only friends who you had ever seen in this part of the library were purebloods curious about their ancestry. As a muggleborn, this was predictably unrelatable. There’d been no person of interest waiting for you in the old, dusty books that were shoved neatly into chronological order, no long-lost ancestor or namesake. 

Not until now. 

The click of your oxfords against the dark hardwood echoed as you came to a stop in front of the stacks. Every yearbook was the color of that school year’s House Cup winner, and the one with 1943-1944 on the thin spine was a rich, loud red. It slid easily from the shelf—which was a relief, because occasionally older books required permission to handle and were thus unremovable—and settled gently in your hands. 

For a second you pondered leaving the aisle and finding a table to crack it open and savor the moment, but the thought of having to explain why you were looking at the 1943 class yearbook would be embarrassing. Doubly so if Lucy found you—she’d never let you hear the end of it. So, case closed. You’d open it here. 

Oh god. You swallowed and used the cuff of your free sleeve to wipe the bead of sweat that had formed on your forehead. This was a terrible idea—or was it? Maybe he wouldn’t be your type. Yes, maybe he’d look just like someone who annoyed you in class or he’d have poorly kept hair or he’d have a creepy smile. Then you could stop thinking about—that.

And that shouldn’t even matter! You squeezed your eyes shut to dispel the thought. It was all Lucy’s fault for teasing you so much about him being your sort-of-weird-ghost boyfriend—part of you was starting to pretend like that was real. And it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. It didn’t matter that no boy before had managed to make you this excited to talk to them. It didn’t matter that he got you like no one else in this castle seemed to. It didn’t, because as of present he was actually a journal and not a corporeal being.

In short, you reminded yourself harshly, you were checking this yearbook to verify that a Tom Marvolo Riddle did in fact exist and attended Hogwarts during the time period he claimed. That was it—nothing more. 

Nervously, you let the cover flip open and began to card through the thick pages. Moving pictures of entirely unfamiliar students greeted you, flashing past your eyes. First years, second years, third years, fourth years…

You paused before turning from the fifth year page to the sixth, overwhelmed with the thought that whatever you saw was going to change the way you saw your interactions with the diary. If he wasn’t there, you’d need to re-evaluate how safe this whole diary scenario was. You’d need to go back and reconsider if anything you’d heard from him was ever the actual truth. And if he was…

You swallowed. You couldn’t pretend like you hadn’t been imagining what he’d look like on nights that you struggled to fall asleep. There was never a face you could settle on. Whenever you’d spin up something in your mind’s eye, the features would shift and morph into something entirely different before you could enjoy it. 

But it didn’t matter—it couldn’t matter, because it was crazy that you’d even been fantasizing about a potentially make-believe boy who only existed in a worn diary. 

You turned the page, and Tom Marvolo Riddle stared right back at you.

Tom looked every bit of what you’d expect a Slytherin prefect to be like. Everything about him was neat, orderly, and intentional, from the tidy robes to the obediently shaped dark waves atop his head that looked tragically soft. The only thing out of place was a single piece of black hair, dangling temptingly in the middle of his forehead. 

His lips were drawn into a polite almost smile, his image almost entirely still save for the slight bob of his throat that repeated as the image replayed, over and over again. 

Tom was pretty—much prettier than you ever could’ve thought up on your own. He looked unreal, like he’d been sculpted by some higher being’s hand with the express purpose of being devastatingly ethereal. 

And he’d been talking to you. Connecting with you. And he was real. The weight of your satchel over your shoulder reminded you that he was right there. All it’d take was a quill and some ink to speak to him again. 

The picture had repeated its loop one final time before you closed the book shut and pushed it back onto the shelf, hearing the pounding of your heart the whole way.

When you wrote to him that night, you tried your best to keep yourself imagining how he’d look writing back. Would he smile when he saw that you’d opened the journal? Would he laugh at your (admittedly stupid) jokes? 

September turned into October which tilted into November with such speed that you could barely breathe. Time barreled ahead as classes sped up, assignments piled on, and each day became just another challenge to survive. 

Tom remained one of the few constants in your life, alongside Lucy and Ishan. It was concerning how much you’d come to confide in him, telling him things that you’d never dare to share with anyone else. You told him about the little accomplishments that you could never bring up to your friends, like Professor Snape insulting everyone’s potion except yours and what McGonagall wrote on your most recent paper, calling it one of the most well-researched essays she’d gotten from a N.E.W.T level student. You even told him how Lucy occasionally got on your nerves and how it made you feel like a bad friend. 

He was a good listener and an even better conversationalist. When he wasn’t being your confidant, he was more than happy to indulge any academic topics of interest. You spent hours going back and forth, debating the content of the news headlines that you’d tell him about each day. 

With time, the memory of Tom’s face and intimidatingly good looks faded to the back of your mind. You’d barred yourself from going back into the Alumni section in the library lest you felt inspired to crack open his yearbook again and remind yourself just how attractive your imaginary friend had been when he’d been alive. If you did that, then you’d start fantasizing about a future where you invented some sort of way to pull him out, and that was just silly. You had exams, and Tom didn’t seem particularly rushed in leaving his journal—or he’d at least come to accept that he’d never leave.

Despite this new normality you’d built around the strangeness of the journal, some things still felt tense. You’d grown comfortable with Tom—arguably more comfortable with him than nearly anyone else, save for maybe Lucy, since you couldn’t ever imagine opening up the journal and telling him all about the fact that it was your time of the month and detailing exactly how your cramps were making you feel—but there was this underlying sense of anticipation. For what exactly, you weren’t sure. You just knew that things couldn’t be like this forever. Something had to give. 

In the end, it was Professor Snape who started it. He’d looked down at your cauldron and said something about how your Draught of Living Death base was the most elementary thing he’d ever had the misfortune of laying his eyes upon and that you were lucky to even be allowed into the class, and something inside you broke. 

You’d tried so hard on that potion. You’d followed the instructions to a T. You’d diced everything evenly and stirred it with the precision of a muggle performing brain surgery. Potions had never been your best subject, and you tried to make up for it by trying harder than everyone else. Normally it worked, but N.E.W.T potions was something else.

Tom was taking longer than usual to respond to this particular soliloquy that night, a few letters surfacing before he scribbled them out.

I know this might seem scary he finally wrote. I’ll understand if this frightens you too much. But I think that I may be able to help. 

What do you mean, scary? Are you a mean tutor or something?

I mean that I can show you how to brew that Draught Tom replied. 

Show me?

If my research is correct, it’s possible that I can temporarily cross you over into my world. 

Your heart thudded, your hands suddenly clammy. 

“Lucy?” 

“Yeah, what’s up?” Lucy tossed her book onto her desk and turned to face you. “Oh no. Did something happen? You look awful.”

“Gee. Thanks.” You swallowed. “Er—sort of? I was writing to Tom about how crazy Potions class was today and he told me that he could help me. Like actually tutor me.”

“Is that not a good thing?” 

Your mouth was dry. “No. That’s not it. He means like, tutor me tutor me. In person. He says he can cross me over into his world temporarily.”

Lucy froze. 

“I have to say no, right?” It was so, so stupid that you were asking that. Of course you had to say no. There was no telling what he could do to you if you said yes. Maybe he was actually a demon that was attempting to possess you. Maybe he was going to eat your soul and use your body as a husk to feed on the other students and—

“I mean, probably not.” She thoughtfully pressed the top of her quill to her mouth. “Think about it. You guys have been in contact for months and nothing supernatural has happened. We already came to the conclusion that the journal isn’t dark magic because the wards would’ve kept it out.”

“But what if I get stuck with him? I haven’t been able to find anything about this type of magic before. I don’t know how it works.”

Lucy hummed. Then realization flickered across her features. “Hang on. I think I have something that might help.” 

She dug around in one of her desk drawers until she produced a small spool of half-used thread. It was golden in color but so thin it was nearly iridescent. 

“What’s that?” you asked, squinting at it. 

“It’s Invisible String,” said Lucy, already rolling it out and pulling it around your wrist. It was pleasantly warm against your skin, like it’d just been sitting out in the sun. As soon as it made contact with your body, it disappeared. “It used to be used for Ministry Employees who used Time Turners. Whoever is on the other end of the thread is able to pull the wearer back to this reality and this timeline. It’s very useful in avoiding nasty time related incidents. My dad took home a bunch of spools when Time Turners were officially outlawed. He taught me how to apparate with them since it can also work over long distances in the same reality—just in case I did something stupid.” 

“Wow,” you breathed, staring down at your wrist. There was nothing to stare at, of course. It was already gone. But it was an ingenious little contraption, probably charmed so many times with such obscure and rare spells that it would go for thousands of galleons if you tried to buy it yourself.

The perks of having a rich pureblood best friend, you supposed.

“As long as I’m holding the other end, I’ll be able to bring you back,” explained Lucy, holding the spool up demonstratively. “So, go for it. If that’s your only hold-up, I think you should go meet him. If anything, at least it’ll help your Potions grade.” 

You turned your attention back to the journal, worrying your lip for a second before you dipped your quill in the inkwell and wrote out Ok. 

“This is so exciting,” said Lucy from over your shoulder. “You have to tell me everything when you get back.”

“If I can come back.”

She dangled the spool in front of you. “I’ll make sure of that. If you’re not back by curfew, I’ll yank you back to this reality by myself.”

“Right.” Anxiety began to build in your middle, bubbling up until you were sure you were trembling. 

This might feel a bit uncomfortable was all Tom wrote before you were suddenly falling into a void.

When the inertia faded and light slowly bled back into your vision, you were sprawled on the floor of a Potions classroom that you’d been in when you were a second year. Tom Riddle stood tidily a few feet away from you, wearing the same formal school robes you’d seen on him in the yearbook. 

“Hello.” His voice was proper and measured. It fit him perfectly, but the fact that you were finally hearing him speak for the first time made you feel something that was highly inadvisable. 

“Hi.” 

For a moment, you just stared right back into his eyes as the silence closed in around you and the gravity of your situation sunk in. You’d really done it now, hadn’t you? As if to comfort you, the thread around your wrist warmed against your skin. 

“Don’t worry,” said Tom, like he could already tell what you were thinking.“You won’t be trapped. It’s me who’s bound to this world.” 

“And how are you so sure of that?” 

“This is a prison for my soul,” he said casually. “Not yours. You have nothing keeping you here.” 

“Right.” You slowly made your way from the ground to your feet, brushing off your robes and casting a few cleansing charms to dispel the dust clinging to you. At least your magic seemed to work fine here, you noted. It was a small comfort to know that you’d be able to defend yourself if shit went left. 

“I didn’t think you’d say yes.” Now that he was speaking more, you couldn’t help but admire the way he sounded—silken and smooth and entirely unbothered, like he did this every day. “I was sure that I’d scared you off.”

“You underestimate how much I want that Potions O,” you offered. 

“Never,” he said dryly. “Now that I see that you’re a Ravenclaw, I wouldn’t endeavor to make such ill-informed assumptions.”

You blanched, your head whipping down to take in what you were wearing. You weren’t sure why you were so shocked to see that you were wearing exactly what you’d had on moments ago at your desk—a midnight blue jumper with the Ravenclaw emblem stitched into the left breast, pulled on top of the white button up with the bronze and blue tie tucked underneath. That, and the standard-issue Hogwarts skirt and tights. Hardly dungeon attire—if you didn’t start brewing something soon, you’d be shivering. 

It all looked very silly compared to how many layers Tom was wearing. His prefect pin glinted under the dim lighting of the Potions classroom, and you tried your best to keep your heart from swooning. 

“Did I not tell you that I was a Ravenclaw?”

The corner of his mouth twitched up. “I don’t believe so. I would’ve remembered.” 

“Are you surprised?”

He cast his dark eyes up to the ceiling and scrunched his nose in a way that you thought was meant to convey a serious bout of thinking. “Not quite. I was stuck between that and Slytherin.”

“Slytherin?” You couldn’t stop the way you grimaced at this.

“I thought we had enough in common for it to be plausible.” 

A thrill shot through you. “I’m sorry to disappoint.” 

“I suppose I can't be too taken aback,” he said mildly, stepping neatly back and conjuring a cauldron to appear on the tabletop to his right. “You are a muggleborn. I don’t know of any who have been sorted into Slytherin.” 

This wasn’t news to you, but Tom’s delivery stung more than usual. The implication hung heavy in the air that you were somehow in the inferior house, only placed in Ravenclaw because of your blood. As an afterthought—as a convenient place for you to be put away. 

“That’s true,” you said, stepping closer until only the brewing table was in between you two. “But I doubt that I’d have been sorted there, even if I had been born a pureblood. The whole glutton-for-knowledge thing about Ravenclaw has always been me.”

“I disagree.” Tom summoned over a few jars of ingredients with a nonverbal wave of his wand. “If you’d been born with purer blood, you wouldn’t be so desperate to find a way to compensate.”

You flinched. Ouch. 

“I’m very aware of why I feel the need to work so hard,” you snipped. “But I really don’t think that has anything to do with my genuine academic curiosity. If I was so single-minded in using knowledge for compensation then perhaps I would have been a Slytherin.”

For a moment, his dark eyes flashed with something that you couldn’t quite catch before his face ironed itself into something impassive once more. “Excuse me. I didn’t mean to offend.”

You frowned, watching as he placed familiar ingredients on the table and began lining them up. “It’s fine. Just a bit of a sore spot, that’s all.” 

He gave you a look that made you feel like you’d just pointed out the obvious. Which you had, clearly. But it was offensive regardless. 

“I’ve assembled all the ingredients for a Draught of Living Death,” he announced, stepping back from the table and waving one pale hand at the spread in front of you. “You said you had trouble with brewing the base. This makes sense, since more complicated potions require more stable bases. I’m not wrong in assuming that you’ve always been adept at following instructions and brewing perfect potions before this year?”

He waited for your nod to continue.

“N.E.W.T Potions is different in that it challenges your intuition. Before this, you’ve been able to coast by relying on the guidance of others. But with potions like the Living Death, you need to be able to think on your feet. Even the slightest variation in your ingredients—the age, the quality, the place of origin—can be what ruins an otherwise perfectly good brew. Every potions recipe you see in school textbooks makes implicit assumptions about the quality and age of your ingredients. If, say, it’s an unusually hot day when a supply shipment arrives and the gillyweed oxidizes, the instructions for a more difficult potion won’t anticipate that you need to temper it with volcanic salt.

“That’s where you come in. When you’re preparing your base, you need to have an intimate understanding of the properties of each ingredient and how they interact with each other. This way, when you notice something isn’t quite average with your supplies—as is common in a school where ingredients are shipped in bulk—you can adjust.” 

Tom paused, his eyes meeting yours. You blinked once, then broke the contact to look at the cauldron.

No one had ever explained that to you before. No one had ever taken the time. Snape certainly hadn’t been interested in lecturing about why so many students were incapable of  producing viable potions—he was far more content with insulting his pupils for being inadequate. 

“I never knew that,” you admitted, finally looking back at him. He hadn’t moved an inch. “That makes so much sense.” 

Though your words were far from creative, honesty dripped from your voice.

“Right then,” said Tom, nodding tightly and stepping back to gesture to the ingredients. “Try to prepare the base again. This time pay attention to the state of the ingredients.”

You got the work, thinly dicing the beetroot while you set the moon water to simmer in the cauldron. 

“This was bruised,” you noted, motioning to the cubes you’d just cut. 

Tom nodded, looking at you rather expectantly. 

“...which means that part of it has already oxidized,” you continued cautiously. In truth, you hadn’t spent much time learning about the different chemical properties of the ingredients. That felt too concretely muggle, too blatantly biological. “Which means that the enzymes have, uh, had their bonds ruptured?”

“And…?” 

“And that means I need to…” You squinted down at the vegetable, trying to conjure up any knowledge you had about enzymes and potion making. It probably wouldn’t be volcanic salt. Would it? “I don’t think that I can use volcanic salt as a binding agent this time. If my memory serves correctly, moon water becomes unstable in the presence of pure minerals. So that means…acid? Lemon?”

Tom slid a vial over to you, a ghost of a smile on his face. “Mix a little into the beetroot before adding it.”

You uncorked it and let the citrus juice sink into the purple cubes, running slightly down the cutting board and pooling in the wooden crevices. 

The rest of your base preparation went just as smoothly, with Tom offering up the odd helpful comment while you nodded and committed it to memory. 

You finished with a base that looked nothing like the disaster you’d created just hours ago. You were just barely able to keep yourself from grinning and throwing your arms around Tom’s neck as you both began to clean up and vanish the contents of the cauldron.

“Well done,” said Tom, spelling the cutting board clean. The vibrant pink marks from the beetroot vanished. “Consider me impressed.”

You nearly exploded with giddiness. 

“Thank you,” you said very normally. He was standing so close to you now that if you reached out, your fingers would skim his robe-clad arm. But you wouldn’t do that, because that was weird. Because he was living in a journal and he was somehow bound to this strange alternative reality. Because you weren’t even sure if it was possible to touch him. Because even if it was, Tom Riddle did not seem like the type of person who would be partial to physical affection—especially not from someone like you. “Do you—have you found anything out about how you can escape?” 

Tom’s fluid motions as he tidied the table only stuttered for a moment. “Some. Nothing concrete, though.”

“If you told me exactly what it was you did to get stuck in here, I’d probably be able to offer a lot more help,” you pointed out in a way that you hoped didn’t sound too cajoling. 

He didn’t say anything. 

“Come on,” you pressed, putting your hands on your hips. “I’ve aired out all my dirty laundry to you. You can tell me. I don’t think there’s anything you could say that I haven’t already guessed.”

“Really?” drawled Tom, his eyes locking on yours. “Nothing at all?”

“Nothing,” you affirmed. 

“So why don’t you tell me what happened?” 

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

Men could be so frightfully dull sometimes. 

“There’s a book,” said Tom with a deceptive casualness, “That should be in the Restricted section. It’s called ‘Secrets of the Darkest Arts.’ Read that. If you’d still like to know afterwards, I’ll oblige.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine.” 

The work table was all cleaned up, no trace of your previous potion brewing except for the lingering scent in the air. 

“Well,” said Tom. His hands were folded neatly behind his back as he remained a respectable distance away from you. “I suppose I should be sending you back.”

“I suppose,” you echoed. “Will I—do you think I’ll get to see you again?”

You regretted it the moment the words left your mouth. Hopefully the blush on your face could be written off by the excuse that you were just brewing. 

This time when he looked at you, it felt like he was re-evaluating something. “Whenever you’d like. I’m not especially occupied.”

Before you could stop yourself, your face was splitting into a bright smile. “Of course. I was definitely asking because of your busy schedule.” 

He blinked twice. Then he opened his mouth, closed it, and fidgeted with his tie. It was the most obvious sign of discomfort you’d seen from him the entire evening. 

“Right,” he said stiffly. “Ehm—yes. It was pleasant to have you here.”

“Pleasant?” you echoed, your eyebrows raised. 

“I mean that I’ve enjoyed the time that we’ve spent in correspondence,” he said, waving a hand like that made what he said any less awkward.

“Tom, I was teasing you,” you said. “I don’t need some sort of confession about how you can actually stand being around me. I can tell.”

“Right,” he said again. “I’ll send you back now.”

Before you could add another remark about how weird he was being, you were catapulted out of the dungeons and back into your desk chair.

“Merlin’s Beard!” gasped Lucy from behind you. 

You blinked, letting your eyes adjust to the bright lighting of your dorm. 

“You literally came out of nowhere!” said Lucy, coming around to put her hands on your desk and stare at you. “I was getting worried, too. Padma is coming back soon. I thought that I’d have to devise some sort of plan to keep her out of the room so she wouldn’t ask why you materialized out of thin air.”

“Yeah,” you said, your eyes unfocused.

“So what happened?” 

“I—” You exhaled. “Lucy, I’m so fucked. He’s actually really cute.” 

“I knew it,” said Lucy, shaking your shoulders. 

“He helped me brew the base for the Draught of Living Death,” you elaborated. “He’s a really good tutor. He spoke for like 5 minutes about the properties of different ingredients, and I swear I’ve learned more from him than from 6 years of Snape’s lectures.”

“And did you guys talk?”

“A little.” You frowned, thinking back on the interactions you’d had. “He was really odd when I asked him about what I needed to do to get him out. Even weirder when I asked if I was going to see him again. He made some comment about how he wasn’t exactly busy and I said something that implied that I knew that but wanted to know if he liked seeing me, and he was super awkward.”

Lucy cringed. “Well, I mean, if I’d been stuck in a diary for 50 years without talking to someone, I’d probably be a little strange too. Tell me how he is when he talks—or writes, I guess—to you next.”

The next time Tom responded to a diary entry, you had news.

Tom you wrote. Are you there?

Yes.

Can you bring me back to you?

Why? Do you need another Potions lesson?

You rolled your eyes. Not quite.

Well, no. I won’t let you back until you’ve read the book I told you about.

That’s why I’m asking! I’ve tried looking for it everywhere. When none of the querying spells worked, I went through the entire Restricted Section by hand. Nothing! I asked Madam Pince and she told me that that book had been banned since before she’d gotten the position as librarian. I’m probably on some watch list now

That is troubling. 

So if you’ll be so kind, please let me back in so I can use your library. Thank you in advance

There was a long pause that you imagined Tom took to sigh and run his fingers through his hair in exasperation. Then:

Very well. 

You were falling through space once again.

final a/n: thank you for reading! let me know how you feel about it! this is my first time writing for tom so im kind of nervous or whatever

[ingeniouscollectionthing]

Sneak Peek: my Soul is yours (Tom Riddle x Reader)

Little Trailer for my new ideas, i have no idea where this will go lmao.

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Warnings: dirty fanfiction in future parts, Soulmate AU, kinda evil but alternate Tom

Tom Marvolo Riddle. A name written into the skin of your left wrist. A pretty, cursive handwriting in pitch black ink, which seemed to mock you everytime you looked at it. The name of your soulmate, the one person in this whole world you were made to spend your life with, to whom your soul is bound. Pitty you have no idea who this Tom is.

You, pureblooded, beautiful (Y/N), just returned home after attending your sixth year at hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry. Though the orphanage you were abandoned at is just a pathetic excuse not worthy of being called home at all, really. You dreaded this place almost as much as mudbloods defiling magical blood. You dreaded the fact there was no way to escape all those filthy, annoying and screaming muggle children. Not yet at least. 

You’d kill all of them - in the blink of an eye, if you could.

Closing the door, you look around the old, shitty bedroom who held many occupants before you. The oak closet on the wall was dull, losing it‘s shiny outer layer gradually.

Walking over to the window you could see the old postcard pinned beside it on the ugly greenish tiles ever since you were here. You figured someone before you must have put it here.. and never bothered to take it down. It was a picture of some kind of cave amidst clashing waves.

And as always, you felt a gentle pull from it. And as always your fingers glide over it all the same.

You knew in your heart it was the only link, the only clue left of your soulmate in this timeline.

[slytherinboysappreciation]

Hello! It's me againn and guess what 😈😈 Yes! I got another idea for Tom Riddle and m!reader 😋😋

Ekhem- so basically Tom was assigned to tutor this boy who was known for his lack of effort in class, he would sleep nor just ditched out the classes. So, as a nice Headboy he was, Tom decided to accept the task to tutor the boy and behold! The boy just sleeping the whole time Tom explain smth to him. So yeah Tom's mad n reader was like "Huh why r u mad? I don't even need tutor in the 1st place..." So Tom's gotten more mad 😔 and reader would like 🧍‍♂️

AHAHAHA n then as an apology, reader shows up to Tom after the exam ended n gave him his exam papers and oh boy this mf got O (Outstanding) for all the subjects, turns out the reader is able to do the school works from the beginning but he just won't do it bc he's a lazy ass bitch. Then Tom's reaction would be "🧍‍♂️...Yeah, i need those genes for my kids 😍"

THIS IS SO MESSY LMAO im sorry here's sum oranges for ur wonderful writing 🍊🍊🍊

Tutoring - T. R. x male!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much!! I love seeing you in my ask box! I hope this is what you were wanting 💛 Sorry about the ending lol. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to end it well.

I think I tagged everything, but let me know if I missed something! Fic is unedited with no use of Y/N

Anyway, have some hearts for sending me so many amazing requests! 💛💛💛💛

CW: Tom being fed up; anger; laziness; yelling; Tom gets fairly upset in this; somewhat mean words towards the reader; making up; brief compliment towards Tom; Abraxas and Tom are friends in this; Tom gets a little bit obsessed with reader; Tom’s evil plans

1144 words

It was a little known fact that Tom loved tutoring. For more selfish reasons than he’d care to admit, but he loved it all the same.

It was the rush of power he felt when a teacher came to him on behalf of yet another student. It was the pride when a student finally understood the material.

It was even the knowledge that Tom was smarter than most of the students at Hogwarts.

And yet, for all his love of tutoring, he was seriously debating quitting.

Why?

The answer was simple. You.

Tom had agreed to tutor you as a favor to Professor Slughorn. It wasn’t even for extra credit; a rare occasion of Tom being nice.

The professor was clearly fed up with you, and Tom was more than willing to take on a challenge.

And oh, what a challenge you were.

You were late to your first tutoring session, completely missed the second one, and slept through the third one.

You’d apologized, of course; but by the fourth tutoring session, it was clear you just didn’t have the motivation to study.

And it infuriated Tom.

He’d never failed as a tutor before, and he certainly wasn’t going to fail now.

When your eyes start to droop for the third time in ten minutes during your next study session, Tom’s patience runs out.

“Were you attending a party last night?” he demands, hands clenched. “What in Merlin’s name could have made you so tired?”

You startle, blearily lifting your head and rubbing at your eyes. “You think I’m cool enough to attend a party?”

It sounds like a genuine question, one Tom refuses to answer.

“What. Kept. You. Up?”

“My roommates.” You yawn and settle back into your seat. “They were having fun or something. Bein’ loud. Kept me up most of the night.”

Tom’s fists unclench. He takes a deep breath. “And do they do this every night?”

“Well… sort of…?” You fiddle with your quill. “Not every night, but…”

Tom pinches the bridge of his nose. “Talk to your Head of House about it. They’ll deal with your noisy roommates.”

“Alright.” You give him a small smile. Tom doesn’t return it.

“Now, for your potions essay…”

You slump in your seat.

But Tom counts it as a win when it takes you a few minutes longer than usual before your head starts drooping again.

You’re falling asleep yet again, and Tom has had it with you.

He slams the potions guide down on the table, startling you awake.

“Merlin, what the—“

“What—“ Tom seethes, “—is wrong with you?”

You blink, clearly taken aback. “Uhhh…”

“I have done my absolute best to ensure you don’t fail your exams next week, and you have done nothing but laze about and sleep!”

“Look, Riddle, just chill out.” You hold up your hands placatingly, giving him a weak smile. “I don’t get why you’re so upset. Professor Slughorn said you wanted to tutor me.”

“Well, not anymore! I am through with you!” Tom stands, fists clenched. “You have driven me to my wit’s end! If you’re not going to bother even trying to focus, I’m not going to bother trying to help you!”

“Hey—“

“I quit!” Tom snaps.

You stare at him, stunned. Then you cross your arms. “Well, fine! Merlin knows I never needed a tutor in the first place!”

Tom glares at you and angrily gathers his things.

It doesn’t feel good to quit. But he’s never felt so helpless before. You just simply seem to refuse to learn.

As he stalks away, though, there’s an odd pull at his heart. Maybe it was something about the unhappiness in your eyes. Or the way your fingers trembled as they gripped your quill.

Whatever it was, Tom squashes the feeling like a bug. He’s done with you. Not even a favor from Slughorn could tempt him to take you on again.

Of that, he is certain.

Tom’s sitting with Abraxas in the main hall, celebrating his exam scores. All Outstandings and Exceeds Expectations, even for Divination and Herbology.

He’s particularly proud of his O in Potions, proof that he knows the material well.

He’s just about to bite into a pumpkin pastry when there’s a soft cough behind him.

He turns, raising an eyebrow. It’s you, looking quite sheepish.

“Hey, Riddle.”

Tom purses his lips together thinly and crosses his arms. “Hello.”

You shuffle your feet and rub the back of your neck. “I know you were really mad at me,” you mumble, “But I wanted to explain myself a bit…”

“Then explain.”

You take a deep breath and pull a piece of paper from your pocket. It’s your report card for the exams.

Tom takes it, expecting to see some sort of dismal grade requiring his assistance.

But instead, what greets him is the best set of scores he’s ever seen. All Outstandings, in every class.

Tom stares at the report card, utterly baffled. “What?”

You rub the back of your neck again, not meeting his gaze. “I told you, I didn’t need a tutor. I can do the work. I just don’t like it.”

Tom slowly looks up from the report card. “You… just don’t like it…?”

You shrug. “Schoolwork’s boring. I’d rather do something else instead.”

Tom’s brain is a whirl. You were capable of doing the coursework already. More so, you knew everything well enough to get Outstandings in every class, something even he failed to do.

Tom hands you back your report card. “I owe you an apology then.”

“Nah,” you laugh softly and shuffle your feet. “Don’t worry about it. ‘Sides, you’re kinda cute all angry ‘n’ stuff.”

Tom blinks. You shrug and give him an awkward smile. “See you around, Riddle.”

“Right…” He watches as you walk away.

Then he turns quickly to Abraxas. “Malfoy, he had all Outstandings.”

Abraxas glances at him once, then does a double take. “Oh, no. I know that look. What are you planning?”

Tom grins. “Surely you see it? A brain that smart, when paired with my cunning? We’d be unstoppable.”

Abraxas glances at where you’d been standing. “Tom, I don’t know about this…”

But Tom’s mind is already at work. You already thought he was cute once… With the right sort of manipulation, perhaps he could get you to think it again.

Perhaps he could get you to fall in love with him.

“Just think about it, Malfoy. Our children would be geniuses!”

Abraxas just sighs. He shakes his head, but Tom ignores him. His plan is forming in his mind; his perfect plan to get you to fall in love with him.

With only a little bit of persuasion, he’ll get you to fall in love with him. And then you’ll be his lover forever. The other half to his genius.

And then all his plans will be perfected.

[jmliebert]

masterlist

hi, I daydream, I write and obsess over fictional characters (enjoy ˙ᵕ˙)

always very open to suggestions, requests etc, love to hear from you

very thankful for every nice comment, for every reblog and message!

buy me a coffee...

✩ BALDUR'S GATE ✩

Halsin

♡ headcanons ♡

Halsin in love (fluff headcanons)

Little things that would make halsin fall for you harder (fluff headcanons)

Lovesick Halsin (fluff headcanons)

Halsin x shy!virgin (smut headcanons)

Halsin x you (smut&fluff headcanons)

Halsin x shy!insecure!reader (smut&fluff headcanons)

♡ short-stories ♡

Scent of Seduction (short-story) (smut&fluff)

Hot and bothered (short-story) (smut&fluff)

Halsin longing for you (your scent makes him forget himself) (smut)

Halsin little distraction (short-story) (shameless smut)

♡ others ♡

Halsin x you by the lake (smut scenario)

Halsin teaching you how to kiss (fluff, halsin x shy tav scenario)

Halsin giving Tav wooden duck, and her returning the favour (little headcanon)

Apologising on their knees (gale☆astarion☆halsin)

Halstarion (halsin x astarion)

Halsin x Astarion (smut&fluff headcanons)

For the strongest, a hard claim (short story) (sub-halsin smut)

Astarion

♡ headcanons ♡

Lovesick Astarion (fluff headcanons)

Little things that would make astarion fall harder for you (fluff headcanons)

Astarion x shy!virgin (smut headcanons)

♡ others ♡

Apologising on their knees (gale☆astarion☆halsin)

Gale

♡ headcanons ♡

Quiet nights spent with Gale (fluff headcanons)

Lovesick Gale (fluff headcanons)

Domestic bliss with Gale (fluff headcanons)

Little things that would make Gale fall harder for you (fluff headcanons)

♡ short-stories ♡

Starry nights belong to lovers (short-story) (longing) (smut&angst)

♡ others ♡

Tormenting Gale.... (smut scenario) (gale soft sub)

Apologising on their knees (gale☆astarion☆halsin)

bg3 (as a whole party)

Beach-day (headcanons)

✩HARRY POTTER✩

Tom Riddle

When Tom Riddle is attracted to you (headcanons)

Yule Ball with Tom Riddle (headcanons)

Nights with Tom Riddle (headcanons)

Tom Riddle as your professor (headcanons)

Tom Riddle in love (headcanons)

Tom Riddle x soft crybaby (headcanons)

Tom Riddle x Evil!Reader (headcanons)

Creature of the night (smut short-story) (manipulative tom)

Draco Malfoy

When Draco Malfoy has a crush on you (headcanons)

My favourite Draco (headcanons)

Draco x Harry (fluffy headcanons)

George Weasley

When George Weasley has a crush on you (headcanons)

George Weasley as ur boyfriend (headcanons)

✩HOGWARTS LEGACY✩

Sebastian Sallow

Yule Ball with Sebastian Sallow (headcanons)

Sebastian as your boyfriend (headcanons)

Ominis Gaunt

When Ominis has a crush on you (headcanons)

Ominis as your boyfriend (headcanons)

Garreth Weasley

When Garreth has a crush on you (headcanons)

Slytherin trio (you x sebastian x ominis)

Slytherin trio dynamics (headcannons)

Ominis x Sebastian having a crush on you (headcanons)

(mc x ominis x sebastian x poppy x natsai x garreth x amit)

HL friends-group dynamics

HL friend-group dynamics (drunk-edition)

✩HOTD✩

Aemond

Aemond headcanons (modern, and vey random)

When Aemond has a crush on you (modern headcanons)

Aemond as your boyfriend (modern headcanons)

(lovely dividers by @cafekitsune)