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l-lenny · 11 months

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Dumb Krum! … I love you too

Viktor Krum x Malfoy!Fem!reader, Fred Weasley x Malfoy!Fem!reader

Part 1/??

SERIES MASTERLIST

TW: cursing, mention of fighting parents

Malfoy reader, Durmstrang, no voldy au, fictional wizards names (side characters)

AN: this is longer then I expected but be prepared for next pt

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“No! This is final they will go-“ boomed masculine voice before being interrupted by high pitched yell. “LUCIUS!” The man in question was furious. “Narcissa don’t you dare-“ your mother started crying. “Luci, please let at least one be close to me.” She foolishly hoped that she could persuade her husband. If she convinces him once maybe she will twice. You were aware of the whole situation. They have been arguing about this whole education thing for months. You were soon to be turned 11 and your Hogwarts letter came two days ago. However your father wanted you to go to Durmstrang. It wasn’t that common to have girls attending, but it was not an oddity and single incident either. Doing your research you learned that only 2 girls would be attending while you will be at school and both of them were much older than you. You knew that your mother wanted both of you to attend Hogwarts, but father was dead set on Durmstrang. You heard footsteps behind you and when you turned around you saw your little brother. Teary eyed and with messy hair. He was 7 and much more softer than his big sister. “Why are mum and dad fighting?” He whispered, tears spilling. You hugged him. He didn’t have to hear all of this. The empty hallway not helpful for your words of encouragement “don’t worry I will fix it” your brother hugged you back and yawned. It was by far past his bed time. You took him back to his room and put him to sleep, singing a lullaby. After he was sound asleep you went back to the hallway to hear your parents still arguing. Narcissa was crying and Lucius was fuming. After taking deep breath you knocked on the door to father’s study. Your parents stopped their “talk” and opened the door angrily. “Didn’t you went to sleep?!” Your father said rather strictly. “I couldn’t sleep and by chance I heard you two, so if I may add my opinion to this: I would go to Durmstrang under one condition.”

And that’s how you ended up in the small castle on north. You were cold from the harsh weather and environment. When you arrived via floo power to your new school you have been greeted by cold stares. You did your research on how things are done around here so you practiced in front of mirror your speeches to every possible scenario. You straighten your shoulders and went straight to great hall, where many students were gathered. Students were sitting around round tables and were chatting. You immediately noticed that there have been almost no girls. You were expecting that, but it is still kinda disappointing. Principal Karkaroff took your attention. He spoke in heavy accent. “New students!” Trying to make an impression of strong and powerful man. Everyone was silent in that instance. “You shall train your hardest! You will be excelling in many ways and techniques. If not, you will be punished.” then he clapped his hands once and everyone started talking again. Was this your que to go and eat? You looked around. New attendees were as confused as you. Deciding to take action you marched to one of the tables full of students. One thing you reminded yourself was to stay strong. “Hey” you said as you sat down between two older boys. They could have been 16 or 17 if you could guess. “Oi! We have a brave one here! Sitting with your superiors” Said the one on your left. “Get lost twerp” said the one on your right showing his shoulder into yours. This might be just a test! You were feeling tired after long day and didn’t have patience for them. You took one breath before smiling at the boy “listen to me! I would highly suggest for you to shut your fucking mouth before I do it for you…permanently.” You shove him with your finger. “You are just a dumb loud mouth with no respect! And I don’t tolerate that kind of behaviour” you said lowly. “So shut up before I will shove my wand in your eye and your wand up your arse.” You grabbed plate and started eating. To be honest you were scared. Like scared so much you were almost shaking. Key word almost. “I like ya kid” he said after a while. His friends agreeing and started chatting with you.

His friends agreeing and started chatting with you. That was the best nerve-reliever. You heard from all of them that this is almost as a trial to see who is more suited for this school and for what group. You happened to chose the popular kids. After you took your first bite you noticed another kid across from you. He was same age as you. He looked at you and visible sparkle in his eyes. But not for long. Because the whole “trial thing” happened again. You just ate your meal, which was warm, still it looked disgusting but you were far too hungry to care. This was supposed to be some kind of shredded meat with mashed potatoes. After more chatting your stomach was full. That was when the boy on your left said “You two should head to dormitories and sleep” and when the young boy asked where to find them the older one replied with snarky “figure it out” you spun around. The only thing that popped in your mind was asserting dominance. You will not be showed around. “He asked you a question give him a proper answer.” You said. The tall boy towered above you. “And what are you gonna do about it? You don’t even know a single spell” you pull out your wand. It was pretty cherry wood with unicorn hair and ivy leaves. “Wanna bet ? I will avadakedavra your arse.” You pointed to him with your wand. “You are amazing kid!” He patted your head after a while. “Come with me.” He led you two in corridors and hallways pointing out every classroom and room. He was much nicer than before. “And here are the first years” he smirked. “Wasn’t so bad right?” You laughed. He patted your head again and took off. You looked at the young boy beside you. “Y/n, Y/n Malfoy” you outstretched your hand. The boy smirked “Viktor, Viktor Krum” he mimicked your introduction and shook your hand. The two of you made your way through the door to se a long hallway with many doors. On each door was a nameplate.

You found out that every room was shared. Two people in each one and one small shared bathroom. You prayed you got your room with a girl or alone. From the manor you were custom to having your own place and bathroom. And not going to lie it was big. But when you arrived at the end of the corridor and no other girl names were placed you were pleasantly surprised. You had your own room! The door beside yours read V. Krum and A. Landsprout. “Looks like we are neighbours!” you said to Viktor. “Oh! I vos not expecting a roommate” he said as he opened the door and found out his suitcase on one of the beds. You did the same. The only difference in your room: there was only one bed. You took a look around. A dresser on the right from the door, next to bed under a shelf. You stepped into the room further, taking in the pretty grey wallpaper. You looked at the table which was situated under a window opposite side of your bed. And in the end of the room there was a small bathroom. Decided to unpack you heard a soft knock on your door. “Come in” you said. You saw Viktor. “Can ve talk?” He asked. Straight forward, you liked that. “Sure” you smiled. Your smile brightened this dark place. “How did you know vot to do? You seemed so confident either. Almost like you have been here.” He sulked. You let out a laugh. Viktor felt embarrassment creeping to his cheeks. “I was shaking in my boots. Before I came here I practically rehearsed every single conversation and scenario I could think of. I also read a lot about the school and its traditions.” Viktor looked at you again. “So you practiced?” You nodded. “My parents vonted me to be more confident, to be someone …like you were today so they sent me here. And it’s also a tradition.“ he opened up. In whole 11years he never opened up that quickly to someone. “So do you think you could help me?”

You two become best friends in no time. Supporting each other in trouble, when you had hard time or even tutor each other. Sometimes the education process was hard and you cried to Viktors chest while he awkwardly patted your back. But you were doing this for your little brother, you reminded yourself. And you had Viktor and your older friends to support you. But Viktor was here for you as you were here for him every step of the way. The teaching style in Durmstrang was harsh. Often disciplined students by whipping spell or crucio. You were glad that you and your friends were rather smart, so you don’t have to see them in pain. You have to remind yourself time and time again that you are doing this for Draco. He would broke in your place.

One afternoon in December, right after class with your potions professor you catch up with Viktor. “Do you understand the formula?” You asked. “Oh yeah.” He chuckled. You pout and looked at him with puppy eyes. “Can you help me please?” You begged. “You know ve are not supposed to do that” Viktor was amused. You were excellent at charms but terrible at potions. Non the less he would help you, just like you would help him with charms and transfiguration. In most cases it was just his accent troubling him. You two met in your room and went over and over the formula. You were super worried about not doing it right. Although Viktor was excellent tutor he failed to teach you this. And in your next lesson with professor Grimdale you managed to mess up the potion. “Miss Malfoy! Care to remind me what was the correct formula?” You tried to remember, but due to your nerves acting up you simply couldn’t. Was this your first punishment? Right before Christmas? Oh no! “You are talentless! Hopeless potion maker!” He yelled. You were expecting to be strike with cruciatus spell, after all some other students were disciplined like that. Instead of the crucio came whipping. One whip strike for each of your hands, for making a mistake. You shut your eyes in pain trying so hard not to make a sound. Most of your classmates were punished more if they made a sound. You stood there bravely. “Remember correctly next time!” Professor said and continued the lesson. You were shaken and teary eyed. But you had reputation! Get it together Y/n! You can’t cry.

Few days after this incident you found yourself hugging your pillow and crying. Re-reading the letter your father sent. You were his favourite after deciding to go to Durmstrang, he praised you in his last letters how well you do in school. But this time. This time it was a strictly shaming letter.

“Daughter,

I am very disappointed in last letter I got from your potion professor! How can you mess simple potion? You are slacking. Focus on your studies. When you will go home for Christmas I will hire a tutor so you would not slack off! Don’t disappoint me more child!

Father”

Every ounce of stress putted on you came flowing out in the large tears you cried that night. Viktor, nor your friends knew about this. You were feeling lost for a moment. But soon you slept off most of the negative feelings.

Soon after the holidays came around and you were going back to manor. Floo powder in hand you said your last goodbye to your boys and with “Malfoy manor” you disappeared in green fire. When you came to your living room you looked at the dark place. Your coat reminding you about the change of scenery. After taking it off with another hundred layers of clothing you heard footsteps. “Y/n?” You saw Draco coming towards you and then he ran, body slammed straight into you. “Hey!” Quickly you greeted each other and then you went to find your parents. Staying at home over the holidays was harsh to say at least. Mother was still mad at you for going to school so far away. Father lectured you on basic and advanced things. Overworking you every day. And Draco? You noticed that he started to change. He was more spoiled in your eyes. The only thing that was making your stay bearable was letters from your boys. You started to feel like an outsider in your home. To be honest you were happy to go back to the Durmstrang institute again. There you have your best friend and group of friends. Your time at home was slowly coming to an end and your excitement grew. Finally the day came and you went back to school. You were ambitious witch. Trying to be top in every class. After your father’s lectures you aimed to be the best just to not go through them again. Getting good grades and being respected by many was on your agenda as well. By the end of the year you made your name shine very bright and be one of the more popular students. You had your friend group around to hang out with and some admirers to scare or prank. None the less eaven if the school was hard you liked it there. And as time passed by you were saying goodbye to your friends at the end of your first year. “Bye Vik!” You smiled. “Bye Artie! Bye Archie!” You waved and with a promise to go to visit each other you floo back to manor.

Spending summer with your friends was great! Your father actually liked the guys you hanged out with. Well what was there not to like. They were all pure-blooded and strong. One or two times he actually asked if you and Viktor are dating. You dismissed that and explained that you two are just friends. The most fun you had at Archie’s! His mother was strict, but very kind to you. She wanted a daughter, yet never had one. You won the lottery there. Archie was kinda butthurt about it at first but it became an inside joke. You went to trip with the guys. It was fun! Draco was disappointed that you were most of the time gone and actually started ignoring you. It still hurts but what can you do. Forcing someone to like you is pointless. After that summer your family kinda fell apart.

Near the end of the summer holidays you went to your father’s study, letter from Durmstrang in hand. You knocked on the door and waited. Lucius permitted for you to come in and you read the letter to him. “There is a letter from school! I need few new books for dark arts and charms. Can we get them later? If you have time of course” your father nodded and dismissed you. In the afternoon of the next day Lucius got home early from work to pick you up and to go shopping in Diagon alley. You also wanted to get a custom case on your broom. Your hands got always cold when you were flying. You brought nice knitted case around the holder and it was so nice and warm. After that you were headed to get books you needed. Your father was heading to look at some other stuff and left you some money. “Wait for me in front of the shop.” He instructed and left. You nodded and looked for the books. You got one and looked for the other. After a while you spotted the book you needed and got on your tippy toes to get it, but you were too short. “Need any help shortie?” Said someone behind you and grabbed your book handing it to you. You grabbed the book. Looking at mop of red hair. “For your information I am not short, the shelf is just too high.” The red head chuckled. “Sure, are you going to Hogwarts too?” You looked at the book you were holding and shook your head. “I am studying at Durmstrang!” You smiled. The boy before you looked completely shocked. Platinum hair, perfect posture and student of Durmstrang. He heard of you. His father actually talked about you with his mother. You were the oldest daughter of the Malfoys. Fred remembers the conversation clearly.

“How was your day?” Asked his mom. He and his twin brother by the stairs waiting to snatch some cookies. “Malfoy came today flourishing about his oldest daughter. What is her name again?” Molly chuckled “Y/n?” Arthur nods “yes and he wouldn’t shut up about the Durmstrang. Honestly it was tiring.” He says and Molly laughs.

“Anyway thank you for the-“ before Y/n even has time to properly thank him she heard the door of the shop spun open. And in storms your father. “Y/n-“ he turned towards you. Then his gaze was on the older Weasley twin. “Weasley? I believe you are in the way. My daughter is trying to buy some books. Not that you could.” He placed his cane on the redhead’s shoulder. “Father! He is not-“you started only to be interrupted. “Fred! Oh good afternoon Lucius.” Said another voice. You looked up to see older gentleman. Presumably father of the redheaded boy. “Afternoon Arthur” said your father. “Shopping for school I presume” Lucius smirked and looked at the older, second hand, books Arthur was holding “At least some of us can afford brand new books” Said your father taking you by the shoulders “do you have everything?” You nodded. “Then we shall part ways, see you at work.” Said your father harshly while tugging you towards cashier. You looked back to see the redhead boy and waved with sweet yet awkward smile. After you left and went home your father gave you a hard lesson. “Don’t associate yourself with wrong people. The whole family of Weasleys are blood traitors.” You looked confused. Father never had any issues with people you talked to. Was this really something that was so inappropriate? You paid no mind to it happy to have your books and ready to pack to Durmstrang.

On the other hand Freds interest was peaked. He was just being nice. Still a little confused you were a Malfoy he remembered your smile.

“Vik!” You greeted your friend lightly punching him on the shoulder. He did the same. “Hov vas the rest of your vacation?” He asked. You beamed. Seriously you were the only person in the entire Durmstrang institute to be happy and smily here. “It was fine, I am just happy to be back at school!” Viktor shook his head. “Comrades!” Cheered loud voice of Arthur. “Artie!” You high-fived him and you all went to you table. You looked at the first years and thought of your first time here. There were significantly less students this year. “Guys, do you have any ideas where Archie is?” You asked just to be interrupted by the principal. “Archie is still on vaccination in Russia” whispered Artie. You pretend to be shocked and listen to principal. The whole deal as last year was heard. You were honestly just eager to eat. “Yes!” You muttered and grabbed a plate full of food. Today was the Bulgarian speciality. You simply loved this food and Vik shared your opinion. You chatted and looked around to see none of the new students went here. The lessons, duels and flights on brooms made time pass by quickly. Vik was very good at flying lessons. You often joked to get the first autograph after he will become famous quidditch player. Everything was just right.

You saw Viktor grew in to the young gentleman. He also saw you matured into skilled and talented witch. You made yourself known for being perfect. From the way you looked to the way you acted. Perfect scores in your classes, great skills, powerful friends and nice looks. The pride of your year, truly. When you were at school you enjoyed every second of each day, if you didn’t have professor Grimdale that is. But none the less life at school was perfect. The cold place was very warm and welcoming if you had the right mindset and friend group. At home it wasn’t so great. You saw as your younger brother just grew more spoiled the longer you were gone. When Draco attended Hogwarts he was sorted into slytherin. As expected. He wrote to you from time to time. But it was bland, mostly out of the formality. You wrote back just to be polite and slowly started to part your ways. Your father was writing you every month after receiving monthly report card giving you his word of encouragement. Your mother was writing from time to time too. Mostly the how are yous and be careful. You never knew what happened. Your family just stopped working at some point. You shared most of your troubles with Viktor. And he was so understanding. You actually admired him very much. He had aspiring career ahead after the Bulgarian National Quidditch team saw him play. Viktor often played with them in preparation for the World Cup.

Sitting in your room, you in your chair, Vik on your bed you tutored him in transfiguration. “Yes you did it!” You said excitedly. Viktor nodded proudly. “Vith this I could pass to the delegation!” He said. You laughed“stop calling it delegation!” The boy in front of you just shrugged. “The triwizard tournament trip or vhat ever.” You stood up slapping his shoulder. “I hope I will make it there!” Viktor looked at you confused. “You are one of the most skilled vitches!” Hearing him say that was different then what other said this.

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absolutebl · 10 months

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Hi.

I was watching TharnType for the first time. I started wondering why people have issues with gay for you and wifey and other things like that. From what I'm seeing it isn't intended in a harmful spirit. It's not received badly in the show in context. I'm not just specifically talking about TharnType but just these tropes in general. I was wondering if someone, the writer/screenwriter, director, any actor or someone else said that they'd intended it as demeaning or in a bad way... I don't know if I phrased that correctly. But I guess I'm wondering what people are basing this on. Even UWMA's Pharm's entire demeanor. Before I watched it I'd read that he is too feminine and damsel in distress-y. But watching the show made me realize that he is traumatized. I noticed similar patterns with other shows as well. Is it audience interpretations?

BL Is a Mess of Really Damaging Stuff & You Probably Shouldn't Just Accept it

Because, if you do just accept it without thought, you're also being damaged. If you're gay, you're being taught a type of gayness that doesn't exist and will fuck up your expectations. If you're straight you're misinterpreting what an entire group of people are like (that's prejudice, FYI). And if you're somewhere in between you're learning really bad behavior patterns for your coming out and self actualization journey.

And no, I don't think you're capable of distinguishing fiction from reality, because you've just asked a question that patently demonstrates a burgeoning parasocial tendency. (And yes, parasocial relationships can and do form with fictional characters. Why do you think I am so terrified by KinnPorsche fandom and shipper culture?)

Here have some education, first one is free:

Imaginary Friends & Real-World Consequences: Parasocial Relationships (YouTube video)

But also, if you don't want me to rant about this, and you just wanted to justify your questionable taste, you should stop reading right now. I get it, denial is great! Go sail that river.

Here I am talking about the good BL can do. That doesn't mean I'm blind to its flaws.

Still reading?

Okay, well, now you asked for it.

And guess what, I'm not gonna sugar lube coat it.

Consider yourself Drunk Type lying in a bed and I'm Tharn's c*** shoving some dry BL reality into your a******.

Oh, don't like that image, do you?

Tough nuts.

Put yourself in my position. I don't wanna have to do this either.

Consider this a "BL narratives made me do it" post.

I'm not responsible for anything, I'm just an archetype.

I'll be your seme for today and you were all just "too cute" for me to resist and now you have to take some tumblr dub con...

But first:

Seme uke when it specifically conflates seme with "the man" and uke with "the girl" is old fashioned, anti-feminist, and anti-queer. Here's some of where I talk about it, but I talk about it a lot. Too much, some might say.

Pharm is a blushing maiden archetype character, I talk about it and what that means here:

It's sex negative. And a lot of it stems from internalized misogyny and ties to something called benevolent sexism. It's pretty rampant in BL.

Yes I think Pharm's behavior can be perceived as traumatized, but that trauma is brought about by In's past actions and the fact that In was punished (BY THE NARRATIVE) not just for being gay but for being a self-actualized pro-sex uke character.

There is a distinction being made between critical discourse over narrative versus how the characters behavior makes an audience feel (within the immersive experience of the drama). Some viewers care about this distinction, others do not.

I very much get why someone might like TharnType (I did) but actually also, you might want to think about why you like it despite the messages the narrative is sending... You might want to think about not just the characters in their little perfect romance world together, but consider if you were in the position of either of those characters how you would feel or behave.

And NOW the Dub Con Portion of tonight's BL party

Okay I was trying to be my usual semiseme-welcoming snark self but ya know what, let's be VERY FUCKING CLEAR HERE because I am jet lagged and tetchy....

We (the collective of BL critics here on tumblr) aren't always talking about WHAT is depicted so much as HOW it's depicted, and whether that HOW allows the WHAT to skate by without encouraging the audience to reflect on the damage the WHAT does to their own perception of what is romantic. Or what is queer. Or what is morally acceptable for decent human interaction.

Like thinking, for example, that it's okay for Tharn to RAPE Type while he is drunk.

Why on earth is that okay? It's NOT OKAY. It's just NOT!!!!

Did Type ask for it?

Did he dress too sexy?

Was his skirt too short?

Was he too much of a jerk?

Did he want it anyway?

Did he not protest enough?

Did he protest too much?

You gonna make that call for him, are you? You read his mind (apparently the way Tharn can?)

But SERIOUSLY.

What if you were actually in Type's position? Roommates with someone you didn't like who molested you when you were drunk. At home. In your own bed. What if that roommate didn't look like Tharn? What if your roommate were the wrong gender or body type or age or familial relationship (!) for your preferences? How would you actually feel?

Because if you're okay with this, really okay for yourself, you have a strong kink and you need to seek out the appropriate community or you are signing up for a very abusive relationship and likely an early death.

Can't put yourself in Type's shoes/bed?

How about Tharn?

Are you the kind of human who would molest a drunk person just because you desired him? Her?

Because they're homophobic and you want to punish them with your queerness?

Because they were a jerk to you?

You always get back at people by raping them?

You an old white dude putting your hand down secretary's shirts because they're just "too cute to resist"?

Why should you have to resist taking what you want? Who cares that there is a whole other human involved?

Grabbing ladies by the pussy any chance you get and bragging about it, are ya? Or is it somehow different or less damaging because TT is dude on dude?

So, are you gonna justify taking what you want and violating another person because they're the same sex?

Now who's being "gay for you"? This is going all the way into DL closet case "it doesn't count if it's with a man" territory.

Because if you are any of the above 8, please block me right tf now. (And... do I have a world leader to recommend for YOU to get into a car with.)

GAH!

Fucking TharnType.

Anygay...

I talk about dub con here:

My initial post about TharnType is here, but more recently here's us having a whole ThanType discourse unpacking Mame among other things as part of the BL movement both as a genre and as a fandom:

and here's an important article on rape culture in Thailand

Gay for you talked about here:

Wife language talked about here:

I'm gonna go watch some BL trash that, hopefully, doesn't have any rape in it. (You never know tho...)

Fuck me (consensually) I am so tired.

I'd drink but I did too much of that already this week.

Maybe I need to eat something.

Don't troll m,e just block me.

For heaven's sake please.

(source)

#ABL goes on a rant #sorry not sorry #could we please stop having this conversion #just try putting yourself into these characters shoes #for me?#also ARRRGGHHHHHHHHHH #thai bl #rape culture and misogyny and benevolent sexism and ....#I don't wanna think about this anymore so I'm not entertaining anymore asks on these subjects I'm just pointing people at this rant FOREVER #I watch BL to forget about this stuff

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cheeseanonioncrisps · 1 year

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I know I've made this argument myself many times, but I'm starting to think that we're moving in the wrong direction when we respond to critics of fanfic and pulp romance by saying stuff like "Dante's Inferno was fanfic!" or "Jane Austen was dismissed as silly romance!"

Like yeah, transformative works can be just as creative and deep as original fiction, and romance-centric stories can be literature in their own right, but also…. it's fucking okay to read stuff that isn't like that?

Controversial opinion, but if your idea of a good read is a series of <200 word short stories about characters from your favourite TV show trying to book a hotel room only to discover that (shocker) THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED!!! then that's honestly just as valid a recreational activity as reading Remains of the Day or The Brothers Karamazov.

Do the works have equal complexity or literary significance? No, probably not, but that doesn't actually matter if the question is "what to read in the evenings so I can destress before bed?" or "what to entertain myself with while on holiday?"

It's not like we treat other forms of media this way. No one feels the need to justify having a generic flower painting on the wall by comparing it to Van Gogh's Sunflowers. Nobody excuses playing pop songs in the car by pointing out that "Mozart was the Taylor Swift of his day!"

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying people don't get snobbish about this stuff. People get snobbish about anything. But reading is really the only hobby where it seems common practice to validate this snobbery by insisting that actually your preferred form of fiction is literature after all.

We all get that there are people who are consumed by a deep passion for art, or music, or food, or whatever, and that many of these people enjoy spending a lot of time (sometimes in professional settings) analysing various works to determine which ones are the most complex and culturally significant.

That's fine, we wish them well and they're probably doing good work.

But we also get that there are other people who just want to watch popcorn films or listen to whatever's on the radio atm while eating oven pizza, and that's also completely fine. Those things aren't invalid just because you couldn't write an academic essay on them, they're fulfilling a completely different but equally important function in our lives!

As someone with a literal degree in this stuff, it's fine to just let reading be one of those background things that you do purely to relax and don't put any thought into. Literally nobody has the time or energy to become a connoisseur in every field, and the average person will run themselves into the ground if they try.

Bread and roses are important, yeah, but so are bubblegum and fairy lights. Not everything has to be either work or educational.

#in defence of low art #fiction #writing #books #discourse #reading #culture #fanfiction #fanfic

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ouroboros-hideout · 22 days

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WIP WHENEVER

@chevvy-yates tagged me for this. Thank you a lot 💚

This will be a huge wall of text aswell, since I am not really of the „visual“ side of creating atm.

Writing // Worldbuilding

I'm still writing the next two chapters for my fanfiction, but would rather briefly introduce my other OCs here (yes, Aon isn´t the only one by now). Maybe I can create all of them ingame at some point, depending on how stupid I´ll act with modding etc. when I start. Since things can change quickly in the story while I'm writing, I wouldn't say that everything is 100% set in stone, a lot of it isn't finished yet. But it's a good base. Most of them appear in my „Like Napalm“ fic. Some of them will be in my main GARMR fic aswell. So prepare for half backed character data entries and some rambling.

Gan

Gan Tomobataar, or Iron as he is usually called, is a mysterious man. Many stories surround the Mongolian giant and it always depends on who asks him whether he affirms or denies these tales. It is therefore uncertain which of them are true or fictional and he really enjoys keeping his past in the dark. He is said to have served in an elite military unit. The metal teeth that earned him his iconic nickname are said to have been lost in numerous boxing matches as he tried to turn pro to make a better life for himself and his family, and he is allegedly a descendant of Ginghis Khan (which is probably one of his favorite rumors). One can assume that his closest confidants have more clarity, but none of them would dare say a word about it. Undeniably true is that he has two brothers, of whom he is the second-born. Together with them, he leads one of the largest nomadic clans in eastern Europe and Asia. The Tomobataar nomads are divided into three large families, each led by one of the three brothers. Iron's family stays mainly in Mongolia and Russia, but he would also travel to more distant parts of the Soviet Union for profitable contracts. He doesn't have many vices, but one of them is definitely greed.

By sheer luck, at least that's what he claimed, he picked up Aon on the street when she was trying to flee Moscow on her own. He promised to protect her from the Secret Police and other bounty hunters if she proved to be a useful member of his clan. However, his methods for testing her worth would put the young woman to the test.

Yakov

Yakov always had problems finding his place in the world. He grew up in St. Petersburg, studying or an education other than working in his father's car repair shop were never an option financially, but the young man always yearned for something greater than being stuck in the alleys and streets of his childhood. He decided to join the military when he was old enough, but was discharged immediately after basic training for insubordination and general unsuitability. What remained for him was to work in his father's garage until he died after a long illness. Yakov tried to keep the store running on his own for a while, but he found it difficult to do good business without proper management and eventually had to sell the store. This was followed by a relatively dark period. He saw himself as a failure, was unable to find a new job and drank away the money he had received for the workshop in the bars in his neighborhood. One evening, a man came into his local pub. His car had broken down outside, he wouldn't get any further that night and kept him company for a few hours. The next day, Yakov repaired his car for the man called Gan and left the town with him to live with the Tomobataar nomads.

Gregori

Gregori's mother, a singer from New York, came to the Russian capital for a gig and met a military officer there. The two got together and the result was little Greg. Shortly afterwards, however, the couple fell apart and she took her son back to America, where he spent most of his childhood and youth being raised by babysitters and nannies, while the singer preferred to spend her time on tour or in the recording studio. Gregori at least inherited much of her creativity, starting to make music himself at an early age and drawing a lot. Just what small children do when they need to keep themselves busy.

When he was 16 years old, his mother died of an overdose. As she never bothered to write down a testament or anything similar, her entire fortune goes to her greedy manager, who leaves Gregori penniless.

The boy, who has spent his whole life sheltered without much contact with the outside world, is left with nothing and doesn't know exactly what to do. So he scrapes together the last of his money and buys a ticket to Moscow, where he tries to find his father, but in vain. He quickly goes off the rails, barely speaks a word of Russian, is recruited by a gang and gets exploited. An arms deal with a group of nomads goes wrong, a shootout ensues and Gegori is the only one left of the gang because he hides instead of fighting. Yakov, who was on the other side of the deal, takes pity on him and eventually takes him to his new family where he tries to find his place within the group.

Anna

Anna grew up with the Tomobataar nomads from an early age. Her parents were killed in a botched mission when she was just four years old. Iron, who in a way blamed himself for this, took on a guardianship for her and looked after the little girl like the apple of his eye. As the years passed and Anna grew older, the relationship between her and her foster father changed. He became increasingly demanding, punished misbehavior and put the still young girl under pressure. Aon, who had already earned her place in the clan by this time, could not tolerate this behavior as she herself had grown up under similar circumstances. No one else in the clan interfered with Iron's "parenting methods", which is why she ended up doing it. Anna and Aon then became inseparable and she naturally followed her later when they left the clan along with many others.

Anatoly

Anatoly, or Tolik as Aon calls him, belongs to the Russian working class in Moscow and cannot claim to own much. As a boy, he dreamed of studying mechanical engineering in order to open his own workshop or business. A dream that his father would never have been able to afford in this life. So after school, Tolik started working at his father's scrap yard on the outskirts of Moscow, not an easy job. He regularly drives into the city to pick up old components and scrap metal from SovOil and other big corporations, where he meets Alyona one day. The two strike up a conversation, exchange banter and hit it off straight away, which over time develops into a teenage love story. Aon spends a lot of time with him at the scrapyard, where she can test and improve her skills on old machines and has a place to hide from her hated stepfather. He, in return, benefits from the knowledge she brings with her from university, and his dream of building his own big thing soon becomes her dream too. Together they consider leaving the city at some point and make plans for the future

unnamed_chromed_up_terrifying_SovOil_Secret_Police_agent

Yea well, I don't know yet how to call him. After Aon has fled Moscow, the officers of the normal police force give up the search for her, as it theoretically no longer falls within their area of responsibility. However, since Kristof claims that Aon stole the data he wanted to sell to Petrochem, SovOil is naturally very interested in finding her and the data chip. So they send a Secret Police agent after her, who, together with a small unit, tries to track her down. He actually already had a kind of "Easter Egg" appearance in my other AU. He would have been the agent sitting next to Kurt if he hadn't switched the cards on the table. Funny how differently things can go. Anyway, he doesn't really have much of a backstory other than he used to work for the KGB and is a bloodthirsty hound dog who chases Aon halfway across the country (spoiler: and finds her). If I were to compare him to another character from movies etc, he would probably have the closest vibe to Hans Landa from Inglourious Basterds. The character was very well written, even though I would probably make my namesless_pig a bit younger than him. But since he'll be pumped full of cyberware anyway, it probably doesn't matter much in the end. It's just supposed to be a fucking horrible character and Aon's nightmare.

Robert Walker

Robert is one of the key-characters in my main fanfiction. I haven't thought about him in depth yet, but the general concept is there. He's a British journalist and photographer who wanted to go high by exposing wrongdoings in society. For him, there is nothing more exciting than achieving "fame and notoriety" as a whistleblower. He's not necessarily stupid or doesn't know what he's doing, he's just unlucky. He gets into trouble with the wrong people and upsets the even worse ones, which is why he has to flee the UK and ends up in NC. There he tries to start over and stay out of trouble. However, he soon develops an "unhealthy" obsession with Kurt Hansen. He is incredibly fascinated by him and spends every free minute in Dogtown so that he can perhaps take a photo (or two, or ten) of his idol. At some point, he goes so far as to seek direct contact and wants to interview him. Kurt is flattered at first, but has little desire to reveal information about himself in some strange blog or gossip magazine. But that didn't stop Robert from continuing to stalk him and even trying to become a member of Barghest. At some point, Hansen got too pissed off and gave him the choice of leaving Dogtown or catching a bullet. Robbie chose the second option. After all, he hadn't forbid him to camp outside the gates of Dogtown, had he?

Technically I could tell something about Aon´s mom and her stepfather too, but I don´t have that much yet. So will keep em for the next WIP together with the other OCs for my main fic. There will be three more. A general, a corpo guy and the last is still up for discussion with my brain. Considering somekind of warlord or a netrunner.

Art

I tried to do something different than a full rendered piece of artwork. I am not yet confinced that I like it. I like, that it was finished really fast lmao but...I dunno.

Aon and Tolik - 2055

But happy that Aon is actually recognizable in the end. During the process she looked so much like So Mi at a point that my brain went: WHO ARE YOU GIRL. But I like the long hair. Will give it back to her in her 2078+ appearance. Not exactly like this, but longer than her normal style.

Not quite sure about Anatoly tho. I mean, he looks like this in my head, but I will reconsidere if he will get some cyberarms. He is poor like a mouse, so probably can´t afford expensive tech like this, but he feels kind of „empty“ without anything.

Congrats and huge thanks if you read this far. Brainrot stronk!

Tagging some ppl aswell. Everyone else is invited too to show off some awesome stuff ofc, no pressure as always!

@blackrevell @olath124 @cyberholic77 @cybervesna @pinkyjulien @theviridianbunny @therealnightcity @wanderingaldecaldo @miss--river @barghestapologist @kdval @streetkid-named-desire @aggravateddurian @androgymess

#wip whenever #worldbuilding #writing stuff #art stuff #oc stuff

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kaisers-house-of-desires · 9 months

Note

I FIGURED OUT THE THING-

Anyways, may I request a Draken x skateboarder male reader? Specifically a fluff fic please!

I do hope you enjoy~!

Title: Drinks for Two

Characters: Draken x Skateboarder!m!Reader

Contains: fluff <3

Fandom: Tokyo Revengers

Full request below the cut

All characters are 18+

MINORS, FEM ALIGNED, AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI (This may not be smut, but I still want the above to be followed)

Reblogs > likes

"Yo! Kenny~!"

Rolling up to Draken, who was sitting on a park bench with his phone, you slowly looped around him, maintaining perfect balance on your skateboard despite your hands in your pockets as you faced him with a dopey grin. You had to turn forward to gently kick up for speed, but you kept the trick going. "Fancy seeing you here~"

"I texted you," Draken chuckled, sliding his phone away as he carefully watched your dizzying trick. "You even responded to it."

"Oohhh right!" You stopped your board, taking your phone out as if you genuinely forgot. "I did!"

With a huffed chuckle, Draken stood up, hands in his pockets as you stopped in front of him on your board. "So, ready to go?"

You stepped off your board, kicking it up into your hand as you confirmed. "All set!"

---

The coffee shop was bustling, but that didn't stop you two from getting your coffees and sitting outside in the spring weather. The two of you discussed different things, from Draken informing you of how Mikey has been, to you telling of a dream where your favorite fictional character stole your cup ramen while you weren't looking.

The two of you had been quite busy since your last date, with Draken helping Mikey with the gang and you focused on your college studies, you two had at least agreed to put time aside today to have a lunch date starting with coffee.

"So how are those studies?" Draken asked, sipping his slightly sweetend beverage.

After taking a sip of your drink, you groaned, sitting back in your seat. "I have an assignment due online in a couple days, but I swear that teacher didn't cover any of those questions in class! He gave us one formula to use, but the assignment has something else completely!"

Draken chuckled, looking over at you with a smile. "Can't you just search those questions? I heard there's websites that the teachers actually rip from."

It was like you were given the grace of God herself, sitting up faster than you slouched back. "You're kidding..."

"Nope. I've heard if you put the question into a search engine, usually the first two results or so should take you to a site where the whole assignment is. They should have the answers on them, and some should show the work so you should be able to copy from that if you really need to."

Dramtically, you placed your torso on the table arms extended as if you were bowing, careful to avoid your coffee. "I owe you my education." Draken couldn't help but rest a hand on his chin, propping himself up on his elbow as he gazed down at you with such admiration. When he didn't say anything, you slowly sat up, feeling a bit awkward from his gaze. "Wh-What are you looking at?"

"I'm looking at this adorable, one brain cell having guy before me," he replied.

Feeling a blush creep up on your face, you furrowed your brows, hiding your face behind a sleeve as you gazed away. "Sh-Shut up. You don't mean that..."

"That you have one braincell?"

"That...I'm adorable." Let's be real, you never really minded his playfully teasing nicknames for you. It was whenever he complimented you that felt like a lie.

"Okay, then not adorable. But...you're so cool, so badass. I mean, look at you." At this point, you were fiddling with the hem of your beanie, eyes darting back and forth between him and at something nondescript in the distance. "You have this style that's just...wow. And your skating tricks? Down right incredible. How on earth did I get so lucky to snag someone as cool as you?"

This praise was just too much but...you weren't complaining either. You had to admit, that despite your feelings whenever he called you "adorable", you always felt this sense of pride when he complimented other aspects of you. Though this was almost like an overload but in a good way.

You tugged your beanie down in front of you, mostly to hide the red that was trying to spread on your face. "H-Hey! Isn't the sushi place opening soon?! W-We should get going s-so we can get a good seat."

Draken chuckled as he finished off his coffee, tossing it into the nearby trashcan from where he sat before standing and heading off. "Yeah, c'mon, you tomato."

"I-I'm not a tomato!" you argued, quickly following him before dropping your board to the ground and hopping on it, rolling past him with a shit eating grin that read "race ya!"

#kaisers house of desires #x reader #x male reader #x male y/n #tokyo revengers #draken x reader #draken #ken ryuguji #ken ryuuguji x reader #ken ryuuguji x you #ken ryuuguji x y/n #draken x you #draken x y/n

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somerabbitholes · 2 years

Note

hi! can you recommend some books by indian writers? both fiction and nonfiction. thank you

Hi! I read your other message and here you go (I've also linked other asks where there are more relevant books mentioned)

Fiction

[x] | [xx]

Serious Men by Manu Joseph — about a low-caste man in a chawl in Mumbai and all that he does for his son to escape the limits of his position; satire on caste and class, scientific education in the country

Raag Darbari by Shrilal Shukla (trans. Gillian Wright) — really, really good satire on an village in the north a few decades after Independence; looks at how systems fail on ground, how clearly incapable most of them are at dealing with problems; also about the early years of the nexus forming between criminals, politicians, and businessmen and corruption taking root

High Wind by Tilottoma Misra (trans. Udayon Misra) — about a Sanskrit scholar who in the 19th century moves to colonial Shillong; explores the changes happening in Assamese culture and society during the time, how different communities and 'tribes' take shape and negotiate the colonial order

A Burning by Megha Majumdar — how the lives of three people intersect at the crossroads of law, justice, class aspirations and in an increasingly volatile political atmosphere

Baluta by Daya Pawar (trans. Jerry Pinto) — a memoir by Pawar about being a Dalit and how the identity changes as it moves from the village to the city

Name Place Animal Thing by Daribha Lyndem — it's like a bunch of character portraits of people who are all connected to each other and together they paint a picture of one girl who's growing up in a turbulent community in Shillong

The Lives of Others by Neel Mukherjee — an old and joint family in Kolkata in the 1960s; looks at how it adapts or fails to; it's really good at how it shows a very distinct social class in decay in specifically post-Independence Kolkata but also at the same time could be about similar stories of the zamindar/landholding class unravelling elsewhere

A similar but older take on the joint family decaying in Maharashtra is Old Stone Mansion by Mahesh Elkunchwar. I read the original and I do vaguely remember there being a translation, but I'm not sure so do check that out. I think it'll be in this.

Battlefield by Vishram Bedekar (trans. Jerry Pinto) — about a Hindu man and a Jewish refugee who meet on a ship going from Europe to Hong Kong just before World War II; looks at what it means to be in exile, what it means to aspire to nationhood

I would also recommend the Aleph Book Company series on Greatest Stories Ever Told. I've only read a few but they seem quite well curated.

Non-fiction

A People’s Constitution by Rohit De — how people experience the constitution; how they participate in the legal and political process; really great because it takes the constitution beyond its documentary role

India Trilogy by V. S. Naipaul — An Area of Darkness, India: A Wounded Civilization, and India: A Million Mutinies Now; one of the best commentaries on 20th century but post-Independence India; also very different from other commentaries because Naipaul worked to see the country as something other than a former colony; also great because you get to see him traveling and changing his mind and arguing with himself over the three books

Sixteen Stormy Days by Tripurdaman Singh — about the first amendment of the Indian Constitution which has been a controversial one given that very soon after the Constitution being ratified, it put curbs on freedom of expression and property rights and gave birth to the Ninth Schedule

India: A Sacred Geography by Diana L. Eck — how precolonial and ancient Indians imagined the geography through religion and vice versa; how Hinduism and generally Indic religions are closely tied with the land

India Unbound by Gurcharan Das — it's a personal economic history of sorts where he looks at the post-Independence economic growth (or lack thereof) through the routes his life has taken; really good because he brings to a table the experience of living in a 'mixed' economy and can really get across why 1991 was such a big deal

Castes of Mind by Nicholas Dirks — essays on how caste and race interacted to reorder the social structure in colonial India; how law, policy, politics, and profit all worked together when it came to matters of social categories and identity

The Eastern Gate by Sudeep Chakravarti — sort of journalistic history on how 'mainland' India has seen the Northeast, how insurgency took root; how conflicts have been navigated, solved, worsened

Modern South India by Rajmohan Gandhi — South India from the 17th century to the 20th; a little information heavy at times but useful

Our Moon Has Blood Clots by Rahul Pandita — memoir on the Kashmiri Pandit genocide; also see his Hello Bastar if you're interested in the Naxalites

Kanshiram by Badri Narayan — a biography of Kanshiram and through him looks at Dalit politics and the whole world of OBC and Dalit consolidation

The Emergency by Coomi Kapoor — like India Unbound, a personal account of sorts of living through the Emergency; and she was a journalist then so it's really in-depth

Army and the Nation by Stephen Wilkinson — the relationship between the Indian Army and the Republic; how India has managed to keep the military establishment away from politics unlike Pakistan, which to all intents and purposes, inherited the similar institutional setup as India

Happy reading!

#book recs #booklr #india #desiblr #indian academic #reading list #books #anonymous #answered

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blindmagdalena · 1 year

Note

I love all your fics! And with @venus-haze newest Homelander headcannons where she gave us a sort of Lois Lane reader I was wondering how a Lana Lang could fit with her being the childhood sweetheart. And then it hit me... so could I request a fic of reader whose a comic writer/artist and whose latest project is the newest Homelander comic which centers on his trials and tribulations of being a kid in a small tow with superpowers, and it's promoted as being based off of Homelanders "genuine" childhood experiences, and a bit of pr thing so that he now has a whole "i was a kid like you once," sort of thing. But reader is told he's a busy man and can't take the time to tell her stories about his childhood so it's on her to create these stories. As a result she takes from her own childhood experiences and ends up creating a character based off of herself that serves as Kid Homelander's best friend. The comic follows the general format of Reader's character being a good-hearted rascally sort who gets into some sitcomy trouble every week and it's up to Kid Homelamder to save her from herself as he discovers his newfound powers and learning important lessons about being a good hero. Reader even uses her own name for the character because she uses a pen name for her work because she wants to make at least one thing authentic. The series is pretty successful and one day someone asks Homie if he still talks to reader and he just laughs it off and says of course. But this does make him curious about the series as a whole, and upon reading it he becomes obsessed with it and by extension reader when he finds out she's basing a lot of the story off of her own childhood and even put herself in the story.

At first reader is flattered he wants to meet her to congratulate her on the series especially now that there's talks of a cartoon series being tossed around. But then it gets a little unnerving when he starts saying stuff like "you remember when... *thing that happened in the comic*" and reader just thinks he's playing along especially since nobody else knows that she's making up the stories. And it becomes downright scary when he straight up starts grilling her over other stories of when she was a kid so she can help him 'remember' "the good ol' days" back in whateversville, and to him she now represents the childhood he wanted but was denied in favor of being a test subject.

Sorry if this was really long I just got excited over the premise 😅 but odk what do you think?

ohhh yes! battie's post, for reference. holy smokes, i think this is an INCREDIBLE fic premise! i'm obsessed with the last bit in particular. it fits in so well with Homelander's tendency to legitimize fiction as a coping mechanism, ESPECIALLY in his relationships. of course he would want them to feed even more into the fabrication, and like you said, help him reclaim something that was taken from him.

i'm also extremely into the gradual deterioration of excitement into discomfort and then mortification as it becomes clear that Homelander is Not Well, and now he's YOUR problem. what started as kind of a silly little media improv ploy has grown into a full blown delusion. one that should you fail to uphold, Homelander very well may snap.

of course he has to make sure he's educated on his own childhood bestie, so he's been stalking her and learning everything he needs to know, even details she never included in the comic. he even goes so far as to correct her when she uses the wrong details. imagine the horror of him just KNOWING things he shouldn't know! pulling real life details instead of those written into the comic.

#i'm obsessed i want to read this!!!!!!#homelander x reader #ask and you shall receive #fic inspo

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uzumaki-rebellion · 6 days

Text

The World-building of Wakanda: Black Panther and Afrofuturism

youtube

I've been revisiting the Wakanda Syllabus that an educator associate of mine Dr. Walter Greason put together when the first Black Panther movie came out, and also reviewing old discussions about the significance of that era as a cultural moment and movement at the same time.

The fact that I still write Black Panther fanfics is a testement to the love I have for that fandom and its importance to Afrofuturism and Black Diaspora Futurism. I'm always happy when I see other Black writers out here still churning out plots and series fics because it is a digital archive for how we perceive a fictional future where as Killmonger once annouced "We're on top."

These works are important and specifically center the Black experience. And we don't have to fit our characters inside of white story spaces where we are usually the sidekick or fetish characters. I had an interesting talk with a friend of a friend and she wanted to argue that Black characters in the MCU who were not in the Black Panther/Wakanda Forever films should be included in the discussions of Afrofuturism, and I said they didn't belong in it fully because those characters are not centering Black people's futures. They center the non-Black white leads and their American/American adjacent interests (I'm talking about War Machine, Nick Fury, Sam Wilson, Valkyrie etc). It was a good back and forth because I am always questioning how Black people can build Black solidarity/communities by always working in white spaces in the service of white global agendas.

Writing Killmonger's journey (and his parents) for over six years (Lawd six years!!!!) with numerous books has taught me a lot about my role in preserving our fandom legacy as Black fanfiction writers and as readers. Afrofuturism has allowed me to explore not only Black Liberation, but Black Queerness, ATR's (African Traditional Religions), Black Matriarchy and Black Patriarchy. I've written about things I love and participate in, and also got to play pretend like I'm a kid again playing with my Barbie dolls and action figures. Black sex. Black music. Black art. Black philosophy. Blackety Black and unapologetic.

All this to say that I hope others out there like me keep writing and reading and reblogging these free little digital seeds we are planting that will truly blossom in the future when others discover our work. I know many Black writers lament that we don't get the same traction or BNF notoriety that white writers do. However, there is joy and divine calling when one simply sits and writes a Black Panther tale to give to other Black people for free all over the world. It still boggles my mind that there are people who have read my stories for years and they live on the other side of the world. People I will probably never meet, but they read and sometimes leave sweet comments that feed me to keep going.

Keep writing y'all. Keep reading and sharing and creating. You are making Afrofuturism fanfiction that is a time capsule for Black folks who aren't even here yet. Academics are secretly reading your stuff and using it to formulate academic studies on a fictional world ! Your Black Panther creations are beautiful no matter where you live on the planet!

Pat yourself on the back and keep worldbuilding and reading.

Here is a link if you want to check out some Wakanda Syllabus stuff that has been collected for the public to use.

#Wakanda Syllabus #Black Panther Fanfiction #Wakanda Forever #Black Fanfiction Writers #Youtube

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ginnymoonbeam · 3 months

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Ginny's weekly watches rundown

I won't make any promise of doing this on a schedule, but from time to time I want to run down everything I'm currently watching, in rough order of how invested I am.

Current Favorites

Cherry Magic (Thai) Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Although I Love You and You) Cooking Crush

Bundling these three together because I'm loving a lot of the same things: grownups! Direct communication! Being nice to the person you like and showing that you care about them! Cherry Magic delivered the most romantic sequence in the world to me this week with Karan observing and quietly meeting a bunch of Achi's trivial daily needs, and then Achi realizing this and immediately rushing to undo the hurt he'd carelessly caused. Cooking Crush is also doing a wonderful job of queuing up a bunch of potential problems and then having the lovers resolve them with honesty rather than letting them escalate. And SukiDoya looks to be setting up a beautiful slow burn between two men who have drastically different communication styles, but are drawn together and appreciate each other.

Dead Friend Forever

On the other end of the spectrum, we have the slasher drama with a bunch of students trapped in the woods watching their pasts catch up with them. So far this is delivering exactly what it promised: a solidly-executed suspense thriller with a hefty dose of gay drama. I'm enjoying it immensely.

I Love You, But...

The Sign

Look. It's a mess. As soon as I saw the second trailer and realized we were doing big mythology as well as crime drama I knew this show was biting off more than it could chew, and I knew I'd be seated for the duration. Billy and Babe are doing a fantastic job anchoring this wild hodgepodge of a drama, and I'm having a great time with it.

Last Twilight

This one was in the top bracket for me up until last week. As I've said before, my feelings about it are really going to hinge on how they move forward from the big episode-11 fight and breakup. We shall see.

Intern in my Heart

Not a BL, but with what looks to be a developing BL side plot. I'm enjoying this one, but three episodes in I'm not deeply invested enough to put it into the top bracket. Favorites are the female lead, played by Cris who I loved in Mama Gogo, and the gay bestie, played by Toptap. Hi Toptap! Missed you!

Doing Just Enough

First let me say that I will cheerfully drop shows that I'm really not feeling, so even this bottom bracket is all shows that I like. I just don't look forward to them in the same way I do the above shows, and they might be a few wrong moves away from getting dropped.

7 Days Before Valentine

Episode 9 was my favorite one since the beginning... I liked getting more hints of Q's backstory, and I thought the final rooftop scene was a good culmination of what the show's been building toward. It's been draggy at times, but I am interested to see where we'll go from here.

Playboyy

I'm a sexuality educator and sex nerd, so a show like this is going to have my eyes no matter how messy and chaotic it gets. I've been watching it mostly with that lens: none of the stories or characters are particularly compelling to me, but I'm enjoying seeing what it wants to say about sex each week.

Sahara Sensei to Toki-kun (Mr Sahara & Toki-kun)

I'm kinda sticking this one out for morbid curiosity, and because Toki is perfect and deserves the best. Sahara is a character I could really love in a different drama, but the romance here isn't working for me. I'm not even opposed to a (fictional!) teacher-student romance, and if this show was setting up their relationship as problematic but compelling I might be here for it. Instead it seems to be stalwartly ignoring that there might be anything weird or inappropriate, and it's both jarring and dull.

#ginny watches #cherry magic th #cooking crush #sukiyanen kedo do yaro ka #dff the series

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dreamcubed · 1 year

Text

i did something bad | tom riddle x reader

song; i did something bad [taylor swift] pairing; tom riddle x fem!slytherin!half-blood!eastern european!reader genre; s2l, angst, hurt comfort(ish) word count; 6,5k timeline; tom riddle's last year at hogwarts warnings; referenced child abuse (physical/psychological/verbal), discrimination (muggle-borns), minor character deaths, minor character murders, swearing, extreme manipulation, toxic/unhealthy relationship, srsly tom is so manipulative to y/n, blackmail summary; an orphaned boy with sinister plans for the future, and a new girl who is about to discover she may be just as bad as her parents. what happens when they meet?

fyi i do mix up the order that tom makes the horcruxes a bit :)

PSA | Please Read | y/n is EXTREMELY morally unethical by the end of this. i do not condone such a moral compass, this is a work of fiction and should be treated as such.

masterlist

"you say i did something bad, then why's it feel so good?"

———————————

Hogwarts had a friendlier presence than Durmstrang - but maybe you just had bad memories associated with the latter.

The flashbacks of backstabbing friends and relentless bullying, with you not even getting a break from physical and mental torture during the holidays.

Why?

Well, that was a story.

As like many magic families from the Durmstrang catchment zone, pure-blood supremacist idealism was strong, coupled with the muggle-born hatred that came as a result. Your father's family was no exception: the purest of the pure when it came to blood, or so they claimed.

A stark difference from your mother: a muggle-born.

Only, she didn't tell him that, she lied and told your father (and everyone else for that matter) that she was a pure-blood witch, and the reason they didn't know of her family is because she was from Western Europe (which she was) and fed into Beauxbatons instead. After all, she didn't meet your father until post-education at a European wizarding event.

It wasn't until after marrying and falling pregnant with your father's child did she reveal the truth, burning your father's reputation on the spot. Evidently, your mother had thought that locking down a pregnancy with your father would prevent him from divorcing her - she was dead wrong. Literally, dead wrong.

You would never be sure, but you suspected that your father's family had something to do with your mother dying during childbirth. After all, magic medicine meant there were rarely fatalities around labour.

After you were born and your mother was dead, you were kept as hushed child, hidden away in the corners as your father remarried a woman of a well-known Swedish pure-blood family and continued on to have pure-blood heirs to your family's estate. In all fairness, your stepmother wasn't horrible to you.

But your father was.

The physical and mental abuse you endured for years chipped away at your sanity, and your siblings grew to mirror your father's behaviour. They were younger than you, but there were more of them, and your friendships fell apart at Durmstrang after they enrolled and told everyone of the circumstances of your conception.

Your stepmother never particularly abused you, but she didn't do anything to stop the abuse either. She simply acted indifferent towards you, which given how everyone else was, made her your favourite person by default.

You hated your father and everything he had done to you.

You resented your mother and the situation she had put you in.

When your stepmother fell terribly sick, your father decided to send you away. Which, honestly, was the nicest thing he had ever done for you.

He sent you to live with another hushed secret of his family - even more hushed than you - his squib sister. After she was discovered to be magicless, she had been essentially banished to England where she then was put through all-year muggle boarding schools until she aged out of the system. You had never even heard her mentioned before, yet she welcomed you more warmly than anyone had before, and under your father's orders, you transferred to Hogwarts - the magic school closest to your aunt's residence.

So, there you were, at the beginning of seventh year in an entirely new school. The certified new girl.

Hogwarts was more welcoming, sure, but you didn't think the idea of friends appealed to you anymore. You had been a lone wolf for so long that being anything but seemed unnatural, you were just looking forward to not being bullied like you used to be.

You were sorted into Slytherin: the green house. Unfortunately, it seemed to be the one house that had a similar vibe to Durmstrang. Well, beggars can't be choosers, you thought.

The people in Slytherin gave you curious looks as you sat down, making you scowl.

"What?" you snapped.

They all mumbled, "Nothing," and looked back down at their plates, all apart from one.

The one boy that remained gazing at you curiously had a piercing stare, accompanied by his strong jaw and perfectly gelled hair.

You raised an eyebrow at him, "Can I help you?"

He cleared his throat, "Tom, Tom Riddle. As head boy, I am more than capable of answering any questions you have." His words came across as kind, but the sinister glint in his eye told you every sentence he spoke was just for show.

So, you rolled your eyes, and began eating your food.

***

Your very presence pissed Tom Riddle off.

Everything from the way your lips moved when you spoke to the colour of your eyes irritated him.

The way you answered shortly and curtly towards him, the way you didn't give him the time of day, the way you didn't hang off his every word.

The way you saw through his façade.

Tom Riddle hated it when things didn't go his way, despised it, even. He had learned to perfectly craft his words in such a silky smooth manner that both men and women fell at his feet. He could talk anyone around, fall into anyone's good graces.

But you didn't even give him a chance to build a positive rapport. It was like you smelled his true intentions on him the very second his cologne entered your nostrils. Which was an exaggeration: you were naturally mistrusting of people given your childhood, so you clung to any reason to dislike someone in order to give yourself a reason to avoid them and not risk exposing yourself to another betrayal.

Tom Riddle was too arrogant to realise you treated everybody the exact same way as you did him. He was but another face that could potentially harm you, like every other person in Hogwarts.

Your dorm mates had given up on trying to bond with you, so why wouldn't he?

"Miss L/N," Tom Riddle called to you after a potions lesson. Glances from other students came and went - Tom Riddle was not known for speaking to girls alone all that much.

You exhaled slowly through your nose, turning towards the head boy to raise your eyebrow at him.

"I feel as though we may have gotten off on the wrong foot," his words were calculated, "Perhaps I can amend that?"

His question - if it could be even called a question - was left open ended, leaving the ball in your court. You narrowed your eyes at him. "Amend what exactly?"

"The impression I have made upon you."

"Tom Riddle, I do not think about you outside of whenever you speak to me. There was nothing between us to be broken, and thus nothing to amend."

You picked up your bag and began leaving the classroom, only for the boy to quickly catch up to you. "But your responses have been so curt and... rude."

"Have you ever considered that maybe it's not personal? Maybe my attitude isn't a vendetta against you specifically?" you countered, refusing to even look in his direction.

"Yes, but-"

You stopped in your tracks and turned to him, "The world doesn't revolve around you, Tom Riddle. I treat everyone like this and I have no interest in a positive relationship with anybody here. Please leave me be like everyone else is doing."

And then you departed, only this time, Tom Riddle didn't follow you. He stood, stunned at your words.

Unfortunately, as big of an impact as your words had on him, they had the opposite effect of what you wanted.

Instead of him abandoning all thoughts of you and ignoring your existence, you became a person of incredible interest to the orphaned boy.

***

Tom Riddle moved to sit next to you in every single lesson you shared.

Tom Riddle would always sit next to you during meals.

And Tom Riddle would follow you around a significant amount of the time, always trying to make conversation with you. The conversations were very one-sided, and he didn't lose the arrogant aspect to his personality, nor ever show that he actually cared about you. He would just talk. Talk and talk.

Apart from during lessons when a teacher was talking: he was a studious boy and aimed to master every subject. You cherished those moments of silence.

"Great question, Mr Parkinson," your history of magic professor spoke as you came back to reality from your thoughts, "How does a man as evil as Grindelwald come to be?"

You glanced at Riddle's notebook which was full of notes.

"Bad people come from bad people," your professor stated, making your grip around your quill tighten to the point you snapped it.

Riddle observed your reaction curiously.

"Grindelwald was likely abused as a child, giving him an intense desire for power to make up for the lack of power he had while receiving the abuse."

Your English may not have been perfect, but you understood what the professor was saying all too well.

You couldn't be your father, you simply couldn't.

"We all have skeletons, L/N," arrived a whisper from Riddle in your ear. You turned to him in mild horror, feeling as if he could read you to your core as he gazed into your eyes.

That was when you felt him in your mind. You weren't all that familiar with legilimency, but you were almost entirely sure that Tom Riddle was using it on you.

You broke eye contact with him, but it was too late. He knew.

"Fascinating," he muttered, "Absolutely fascinating."

It felt like you couldn't keep up the cold exterior around Riddle anymore as you shrank in your seat, wishing the ground would swallow you whole.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," he said simply, "As long as you do a few things for me."

Fuck, blackmail.

***

Now you were the one who followed Tom Riddle around instead of him you. Despite maintaining a cold nature towards everyone else, you trailed behind the head boy like a scared little lamb - because you were. You didn't want people to know of your past in fear of being bullied again. You could no longer speak to him brashly, your voice would crack and quiver as you avoided eye contact with him, not wanting to feel so vulnerable with his presence in your mind again.

He hadn't even given you anything to do yet like he said he would, and it had been a week. Was it an empty threat?

No, that wasn't it. It fuelled his ego to have you following him around and maybe that was enough for him to keep your secret - for now.

***

"How do you feel about mudbloods?" he asked you one time, sat in the library together as you worked on your respective homework assignments.

You looked up at him and frowned. You had come to understand that 'mudblood' was an English insult for muggle-borns. "My mother was muggle-born."

"I am aware." Right, he had been in your mind. "But you're upset with her, yes? Her faking her blood status to your father ultimately led to your life being the way it is."

"What are you suggesting?"

"That she is an example of why mudbloods should not be allowed in this world. Her greed and selfishness is what killed her in the end."

"What caused you to be so hateful?" you asked - a bold question on your part. Your voice was timid as you spoke.

"Well, growing up in an orphanage doesn't help," he said, sitting back in his seat, "My mother was a pure-blood and my father was a muggle, and look what happened. Muggle culture should stay separate from the wizarding world. But that's only possible if mudbloods are eradicated."

You cast your eyes down to your work laid before you. Tom Riddle scared you. He scared you because he had the eyes of a cold-hearted man, and you knew what came from people with those kinds of eyes.

Riddle observed you as you zoned out, attempting to piece together your thoughts, which was difficult as your eyes weren't locked with his.

"You and I are not so different, Miss L/N," he spoke, "Relations between someone from muggle society and a pure-blood is what caused our childhoods to be so unfair. We have the right to retaliate."

"How do we know it wasn't the pure-blood's fault?"

"It doesn't matter whose fault it is, it simply proves that the two societies should not mix. Mudbloods are the bridge between them, and so we must break that bridge."

You exhaled slowly, daring to look up at Riddle but without looking in his eyes.

"Are you not angry? Angry for what has happened to you?"

"Of course I am, I-"

"Whose fault is it you ended up in an abusive situation?"

"Technically my mother's, but-"

"No, no buts. There's your answer, L/N."

You finally locked your eyes with his, but he didn't push into your mind like he did before.

"You think I'm going to abuse you like your father did, don't you?" he had drawn that conclusion without even using legilimency - was it that obvious?

At your lack of response, he hummed.

"I understand you are distrusting, but I do not wish to hurt you, Miss L/N. I am here to help you."

You stared at him blankly.

"Look, everyone else avoids you, thinks you are strange. But not me, I understand you. I'm the only person who understands you."

Considering his childhood, that was a fair observation, you thought.

"You need to learn to trust me," he said simply, "Because I am all you have."

"But, Riddle, I-"

"Tom," he corrected, "Call me Tom. You will never trust me if we continue to be so formal. May I call you by Y/N?"

You feebly nodded, unsure of what was happening to you in that moment.

"Perfect," he smiled a gorgeous yet uncanny smile that made you feel queasy, "If you are ever in dilemma, don't hesitate to come to me. I'm your only option, after all, but I'm a good option. I'm here for you."

You again nodded.

"I'm going to need you to verbally agree, Y/N."

"Y- yes, Tom," you words almost caught in your throat.

He smiled the eery smile again, "Glad to hear you're willing to build trust with me."

***

When he said to do some things for him you had thought he meant do his homework for him or something along those lines - apparently he meant join his muggle-born hate group. You didn't know where your life was heading, but you did know that you were becoming increasingly trapped.

With the amount of time you spent with Tom Riddle, rumours were beginning to flood around the castle that the head boy and the new girl were dating. He never corrected the rumours, not even once.

In fact, you were pretty sure it made him feel as if he had even more ownership of you.

"Students, it is with great sadness that I inform you today that a student by the name of Myrtle Warren has passed," the headmaster said during dinner, "Due to the circumstances of her death, the girls' toilets on the second floor will be shut until further notice, and an investigation into the cause of her death will be opened."

Although he didn't say the word 'murder', everybody knew, but they didn't know who. You, however, had a sneaking suspicion that was confirmed when your eyes met Tom's and he smirked at you.

Myrtle had been a muggle-born.

With an increased amount of fear you followed Tom as he departed from the table, as you usually did on your way back to the dungeons. He hardly acknowledged your presence, but you still heard mutters of how cute it was that you were always together as you passed the tables. Well, at least you weren't being bullied, you supposed.

And it wasn't like Tom ever harmed you - he was true to his word in that sense. So, maybe your fear was unwarranted.

In fact, this was the safest you had ever felt.

Was it Tom that made you feel this way? You glanced up at his stern expression as he walked, feeling your stomach twist when you heard someone in the corridor say, "Look, it's Riddle and his girlfriend." Girlfriend?

You continued to look at Tom, trying to fit the word boyfriend to him: he was handsome, that was for sure. And he cared about you, in a strange way, but cared nonetheless.

He was truthful about wanting to eradicate muggle-borns, as proven through Myrtle, so he must be truthful about not wanting to harm you as well. After all, if he had proved such an extreme thing about himself, a much milder thing such as caring for someone else's wellbeing was basically a given.

"Are you alright, Y/N?" his voice brought you out your thoughts, "You are staring off into space."

"Sorry," you mumbled, taking a deep breath before asking, "Are you my boyfriend?"

Tom stilled in his movements, turning to properly look at you, "What makes you ask?"

"Well, everyone says because we spend so much time together we must be dating," you said nervously, "And you don't correct them."

"If that's how you would like to describe our agreement, then so be it."

Agreement was a strong word.

"I don't correct rumours because I don't care for them," he added, "But if me being your boyfriend makes you more inclined to trust me, then I suppose I should thank the rumours."

"I don't... not trust you," you found yourself saying, which made Tom smile.

"Then all that's left is trust," he held out his hand to you, and you stared at it pensively for a few moments before taking it.

***

"Salazar, I sound just like my mother," a girl sat nearby you at dinner laughed in reference to her previous statement, her surrounding friends joining in with the giggling.

"Well, that's what they say. We become our parents," one of the friends added, which was a passing remark - but one that stuck with you.

You couldn't be like your father... you simply couldn't.

"Tom," you asked quietly after you were tucked away in the corner of the Slytherin common room together, "Do you think I am like my father?"

The boy looked up from his essay, "In terms of what? Appearance?"

You shook your head, "Personality."

He paused, "You are not entirely different."

That struck a chord in you, "But- but I'm not abusing anyone!"

"You are not pleasant to anyone who speaks with you," he said, "I assume the manner in which you talk is learnt from your father."

"No, I- I'm like that because I don't trust people!" your voice was exasperated, but not loud.

"Did your father trust you?"

At your lack of response, he continued talking.

"Darling-" that was new, "-when you are raised by bad people, you know more of how to be a bad person than somebody raised by good people. In fact, you know more of how to be a bad person than a good person in general. It can't be helped."

"Why not?" all the insecurities and self-doubt you had built over the years were now amplifying.

"Because it's your default learned behaviour."

"I- I..." honestly you felt like crying, "No, I can't be..."

Tom shushed you softly, "Don't fret. I understand you, remember? The others don't accept your flaws, but I do, because I have the same flaws."

"You just called me a bad person," you mumbled.

"Bad was perhaps the wrong word to use. Misunderstood or socialised differently are perhaps more fitting terms."

"We really can't change ourselves?"

"No, but we can find like-minded people and grow in numbers in order to change the structure of society. Make it a place for us and not them."

"That just seems so extreme."

Tom traced his fingers along your exposed arm, sending shivers up your spine, "Don't you think it's our time? The so-called good people have had their way for so long. We didn't choose to be 'bad', we were unlucky with who we were born to - we deserve compensation not societal neglect."

"I mean, I- I guess."

The head boy smiled at you: that uncanny yet charming smile he had equipped in his inventory for moments like these. Still, you hadn't been smiled at in such a way ever before, and couldn't help the fact it gave you butterflies.

You let the silence sit for a few moments, noticing how the common room was now practically empty because of how late it was. It hadn't been Tom's turn to do the prefect rounds that night.

With the absence of people, you felt safe enough to state, "It was you."

"It was me what?"

You let your eyes meet his for a brief few seconds, but he didn't attempt to enter your mind. "You know what. Who else would it have been?"

He hummed softly, "She would have just gone on to traumatise her future children with her muggle ways in some way or other."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. I was raised in a muggle orphanage. Muggles are cruel and horrible, and they cannot plague wizarding society."

You stared at him, no words coming to mind.

"Besides, her death was not without cause. I needed someone to die in order to ensure my immortality."

"What?"

Tom gave that smile again, before explaining something that only made you further aware of how twisted his mind was.

***

That night you lay awake in bed, thinking over everything Tom had told you about horcruxes and the basilisk that lived in a chamber beneath the school. You knew you weren't the only one that knew, as you weren't the only one who hung around him. Avery, Lestrange and Malfoy were also a part of Tom's 'movement', as he called it.

You didn't know what to do. You felt trapped within a relationship with Tom, since you now knew he was fully capable of murder and you knew too much about him to be able to distance yourself safely.

At the same time, a lot of what he said made sense, and maybe you were just harbouring more and more resentment for your mother, but you found yourself beginning to agree with him. I mean, you were sorted into a house that didn't allow muggle-borns into it, just like Durmstrang didn't allow muggle-borns at all. At this point, it was written in the stars that you weren't supposed to be fond of 'mudbloods', since you always wound up in spaces that despised them: your family, Durmstrang, Slytherin... and Tom Riddle.

It's not that you even had a choice anymore.

***

The Christmas holidays arrived, and you didn't think twice about signing yourself up to stay at Hogwarts for the two week period - Tom was obviously staying as well. It was weird, as you weren't sure if you should be getting him a gift for the day.

Despite the fact you had never kissed or even hugged, he was technically your boyfriend, so you reasoned that you should be getting him something. But what do you buy for a man whose only interests are world domination? On top of that, you had no money.

You could make him something.

And that was how you found yourself sat at your desk in your dormitory (which you had all to yourself until the next term), carving a snake out of a bit of wood you had (magically) cut from a part of your bed. It wasn't a large amount, just enough to make a small figurine, but you intended to charm it to create some sort of snake hologram that would erupt out of the wooden snake's mouth. Wood carving had been a common activity in your family growing up, although you always had to use the scraps of wood and blunt knives while your siblings got the good quality stuff.

Once you had completed the final step of perfecting the charm, you smiled proudly to yourself at your work and wrapped it up carefully.

***

Your routine since the Christmas holidays began was pretty simple: you, Tom and a second year were the only Slytherins staying, and there was only a handful from the other houses too. Every morning you would meet Tom in the common room at 8am and head to breakfast together, where you would eat plenty before heading to the library to study. Tom's studies were almost exclusively directed towards dark magic, meanwhile you worked to improve in your subjects, which you struggled more with due to English not being your first language.

Being head boy, Tom had basically permanent access to the restricted section, especially because he could get Professor Slughorn to sign off on anything. Everyday he learned darker and darker wizarding secrets, which scared you more than you would ever admit.

After morning studies, you would return to the Great Hall for lunch, and then Tom would insist on a walk around the castle grounds after a morning of mostly sitting down. Afternoon would be when he would have his meetings with Slughorn, whatever they were about, whilst you took the time to relax and decompress in the Slytherin common room with a good book.

Then it would be back again to the Great Hall for dinner, and then, since Tom didn't have prefect rounds to worry about, he would sit with you in the common room for a couple hours. Sometimes you chatted, sometimes you didn't.

"Y/N, darling," he spoke as he sat down next to you, the two of you having just returned from dinner. The second year was nowhere in sight.

You hummed, turning to look at him.

"Slughorn is starting to suspect my interest in dark magic is more than just curiosity."

"It is, isn't it?" you replied nonchalantly.

"Yes, but it is making him stop answering the questions I ask so easily. It is most frustrating."

"Maybe you should back off for a while then, build up trust again."

That was when Tom surprised you by dropping his head on to your shoulder, exhaling as he felt your warmth touch his cheek. "I'll have to. I just hate that it will cause a delay in my learning."

You nervously let your head rest against his as you pushed back the butterflies swarming in your stomach, wondering desperately how a man with such violent thoughts had only ever been so kind to you. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't so bad being trapped with him.

Tom's eyes fluttered shut as his body began relaxing, and you took the moment to work up the courage to initiate more affection. You reached out and took his thumb into your hand, since the rest of it was balled up and not easy to hold. He acknowledged the gesture by rubbing the back of your hand with his forefinger, without opening his eyes.

You were probably the first to see this soft side of Tom.

***

Christmas Day quickly rolled around, not that the day had ever particularly meant much to you. So many years had been spent with you watching your half-siblings open their luxurious gifts, meanwhile you got a new pair of socks if you were lucky. That was until you were at Durmstrang, where you always stayed behind for the holidays while your half-siblings went home to loving parents that you never got.

Tom's Christmases had probably been even worse when they were spent at an orphanage. At least you were allowed a small portion of the grand Christmas meal at your childhood home. Orphans likely got the usual everyday food.

Regardless, you weren't expecting anything when you left your dormitory and entered the Slytherin common room. The Durmstrang Christmas feasts had made the traditional food your favourite part of the day, and you were simply hoping Hogwarts could top the delicacies. You were pleasantly surprised to see Tom already in the common room on the sofa by the tree, holding a neatly wrapped gift.

You couldn't help but smile at him as he noticed your presence, and clutched your gift for him behind your back as you approached his location.

"Merry Christmas, darling," he said to you, rising in order to greet you properly.

"Merry Christmas, Tom," you replied, standing still in front of him.

"I got you something," he said, holding out the box.

You accepted it and presented your gift to him, "And I got you something."

He smiled a small smile and accepted your present, moving in sync with you as you sat down to eagerly open the parcels.

You were absolutely shocked to uncover an absolutely gorgeous white gold ring with a snake design wrapping around, and two large emeralds in place of the snake's eyes. You had seen many expensive things in your life, but you had never had the privilege of touching one - let alone owning one. Looking over at Tom to search for some sort of answer, you received none as he was too busy gazing at the illusion you had spent ages charming.

"It's beautiful, darling."

"Thank you," you couldn't help but be shy, "I don't have any money so I could only make you something."

He smiled, "What do you think of my gift?"

"Oh, Tom, it's- it's gorgeous," you were speechless, "I- I don't know what to say. Thank you. Thank you so much."

"It's to your taste, then?"

You didn't hesitate to nod.

"Lovely, I was hoping it would be. I had to resist using legilimency to confirm."

"Why didn't you?"

"I want you to trust me, doll, and invading your mind won't get you there, will it?"

You softly shook your head, shifting closer to him so you could embrace him in a side hug. He turned his body to hold you properly, and as you buried your face in his chest, you smelled a scent that you had never had the privilege of smelling before: the scent of home.

Tom was your home - he had to be. He was the safest place for you to be in all regards, and that was what a home was, right?

"But what's the ring for?" you asked as you pulled away from the embrace.

"It's for my darling," he said simply, and he didn't elaborate.

But as you tried it on all your fingers, you found that the only one it fit perfectly snug on was your ring finger.

Perhaps that was a coincidence.

***

You had taken to wearing the ring at all times, and you could tell Tom liked it that way, having that mark of ownership on you. Due to the finger on which you wore the piece of jewellery, you received many comments from students and teachers when they returned after New Year's.

"Is congratulations due?" Professor Slughorn had asked during the first potions class of the new year, to which you had merely smiled as you didn't know what to say.

It didn't matter, though, because the rumour spread through the castle quick enough to be considered a well-known fact. Tom Riddle and Y/N L/N being engaged was simply a fact at Hogwarts, and no one had ever debated it.

It wasn't unusual for seventh year couples to get engaged: in fact, it seemed that your 'engagement' had triggered a domino effect of more proposals.

You supposed this probably happened every year after there was a first couple to announce their engagement. Girls pushing more hints towards their boyfriends to get them to ask to tie the knot, probably somewhat out of jealousy and not wanting to be left behind.

"How many kids are you going to have?" one of your dorm mates asked at lunch - the first time she had bothered speaking to you in a while.

"I- I don't know," you had never felt safe enough to even consider if you wanted kids. It's not like you even had a good role model to base your parenting off of. Her question had caught you so off guard you failed to even put up the cold exterior you held for everyone except Tom.

"I think I want four," the girl continued, "I want a kinda big family but not overwhelmingly big, you know?"

You nodded absently.

"But if my husband wants more then I guess I would consider it," she said pensively, "How many does Riddle want?"

"I haven't asked Tom," your cold tone finally caught up to you.

"Asked me what?" your 'fiancé' arrived at the table and sat next to you, greeting you with a kiss on the cheek - which he had never done before. The girls opposite you awed at his behaviour.

"How many kids you want," the same girl reiterated.

You watched as Tom chewed on his cheek a bit before saying, "As many as my wife wants, it's her body that has to go through the turmoil after all."

Your dorm mates began murmuring about how considerate that was of Tom, and how one of the girl's boyfriends was insistent on at least three kids with no room for negotiation.

"Salazar, L/N, now we all want your man," one of the girls joked.

You turned to look at Tom to see that he wasn't even looking in their direction, and instead looking at you.

***

"This diary is my first horcrux," Tom explained to you, handing the book over. He had surprised you by showing you the Chamber of Salazar Slytherin, where the basilisk who killed Myrtle under Tom's orders (as you learned) resided. Despite the fact you hadn't seen the giant snake, you were nervous. "This is what Warren died for."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" you asked, flicking through the pages of the diary.

"You weren't ready to think too much about my plans, as you were still processing the motive," he said, handing you a quill and ink pot, "Write in the diary."

You frowned, but took the quill and dipped it in ink, before writing a simple message of 'hello'.

You nearly jumped out your skin when the diary replied to you.

"What is this?"

"I've charmed the part of my soul in the diary to be able to interact with whoever's writing in it, and in the case I lose the body I currently have, drain the life force of this hypothetical person to create a new body for me."

Regardless of your feelings about the matter, you had to give it to Tom that he was incredibly intelligent.

"So, I suggest you don't write anymore in it," he said, taking the diary back, "I quite like you alive."

"You're immortal now."

He hummed, "After we leave Hogwarts, I would like to continue making more. I want them to be grand, meaningful items, like the valuable objects of each house here."

"Like the sword of Gryffindor?"

"Yes, but that one wouldn't be very wise to pick. It's kept in the headmaster's office."

You nodded, "What are the others?"

"Ravenclaw's diadem, Slytherin's locket and Hufflepuff's cup."

"And which one do you want to use?"

He sighed, looking around the gloomy chamber, "Ideally, all three of them."

***

APPROX. SIX YEARS LATER.

***

You returned home with bags of food weighing your hands down, a playful song replaying in your mind in a loop. This was a normal day for you, thus far, as you entered the household that you shared with your husband, Tom Riddle. It was a house in the middle of nowhere, as he preferred it.

As you walked into the kitchen, you couldn't help but notice that it seemed way too quiet - normally you could feel Tom's presence from his work study, but today you couldn't. After checking the office to confirm he wasn't there, you turned back towards the kitchen to unpack the shopping (presuming he was simply out somewhere and forgot to mention) when you noticed that the door to the cellar was slightly open.

Ensuring your wand was definitely on your person, you entered through the door of rotting wood and slowly made your way down the stone slab stairs. You peered around the corner to see Tom stood across from a slumped figure in the corner, and between them stood a small table with Slytherin's locket set on it. Next to the locket was a wand, but it wasn't Tom's since he was holding his.

You had never witnessed Tom during his... dark magic... before.

You observed as Tom slightly turned his back to the captive person, reading carefully a page of the dusty book he was holding. It was then, to your horror, that the person got up and rushed to grab their wand from the table, beginning to say the fatal killing curse, "Avada kedav-"

"Avada kedavra!"

Tom turned around in shock, looking between you with your wand extended, and the now-corpse on the cold stone floor. All you could do was stare in horror at what you had done.

Only, the horror didn't come from the fact you had just killed someone for the first time - no, the horror came from the fire pumping in your veins and making you feel alive. Why did something so bad make you feel so good? It was like a drug - unholy but godly all the same.

"Darling?" Tom snapped you out of your thoughts, and you finally lowered your wand, "Darling, are you okay?"

You nodded, finding yourself breathless as your husband embraced you.

"You saved my life."

"You're immortal, my love."

"You saved me the hassle of creating a new body," he corrected, parting from you to look down at your face, "How do you feel?"

You exhaled slowly, "Exhilarated."

He raised an eyebrow at you.

"Were they a mudblood?"

Tom's face displayed even more surprise: you had never referred to muggle-borns in such a way before. "Yes, doll, but I'll need a new one now to finish this horcrux."

"Sorry."

"Don't be," he chuckled, pecking your lips, "Never apologise for the death of mudbloods."

You gave him a small smile, "I'm apologising for the kidnapping hassle you now have to go through again, not the death."

"I'm in love with you," he said quickly, staring at you with his piercing eyes.

You beamed up at Tom: your lover, your devil, your rock.

"I'm in love with you too."

———————————————

masterlist

written; 08/03/2023 —> 19/03/2023 published; 20/03/2023 edited; —/—/——

taglist ; @workinatdapyramid

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #young tom riddle #young tom riddle x reader #young tom riddle x you #young tom riddle x y/n #voldemort #lord voldemort #slytherin reader #angst #hurt comfort #hp #hp oneshots #harry potter #harry potter oneshots #hp fic #self insert

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