Bearing the Dark Lord’s soul mark on his chest certainly isn’t easy when his family is firmly on the Light Side. HarryxVoldemort SLASH. Set in the Past. (This fic is still a WIP but it’s being updated fairly regularly and is kind of the new kid on the block in terms of Tomarry fics considering it was first published to AO3 at the start of the year, it’s a good read nonetheless so check it out!)
Dumbledore was sure he had made the right choice. Ten years later Harry shows him just how wrong he was. With little regard for most, Harry makes a name for himself at Hogwarts, and shows everyone that he is far more than just the BWL. In doing that he attracts the attention of the Dark Lord, making Voldemort believe that the Boy-Who-Lived could be far more than an enemy. (I’m pretty shocked this one hasn’t made it onto my list before, I remember reading some of it a while ago and loving it, another WIP but if you like Dark!Harry fics where Harry grows up dark as a result of his upbringing, you’ll love this! Dumbledore type bashing but I figure with this ship that’s to be expected)
Harry, after being saved by a mysterious stranger, is flung fifty years into the past, where he resolves to save the future by killing a 10-year-old Tom Riddle. He ends up raising him, instead. But when young Tom develops an unhealthy fixation on his new guardian, things quickly spiral out of control, and Harry finds himself entangled in a deadly game. Will history repeat itself? (This fic uses a similar concept to 47 days to change but in a truly unique way, as with most in the fandom, this is a WIP, sorry guys!)
Lord Voldemort is head of Magical Britain. Harry Potter is a rebel leader in charge of the last scraps of resistance against his regime. Things would be difficult enough even if they hadn’t once been engaged. (I know everyone is probably sick to death of me mentioning The Fictionist buttttt she recently completed this fic and it’s so great I couldn’t not mention it. An AU which eventually links in with cannon, check it out guys!)
a/n: I laughed so hard at this video.. I’m sorry I just love it way too much… Anyways there’s going to be a longer and much more story inclined coming possibly tomorrow if I’m not the tired and lazy ass I am.. ^~^ and yes Tom Holland.
It was a gloomy day. Puffy clouds conquered the skies and the atmosphere was quite lazy. You found it to be a perfect day for a relaxing walk in the park with your not so relaxed best-friend. It was starting to pop up as a challenge to face both the student and friendly neighborhood spider life. You figured that he should just relax and enjoy the lazy day aura. You were sitting on a sturdy wooden bench reading (b/t) meanwhile your friend was taking some pictures of the aesthetically pleasing trees. It was something that got him off other things for a while so it was okay. It was all okay.
“no, No, NO!” Peter voice was clearly charged with distress.
You stood up and walked over from the bench you were seated on to Peter who was standing nearby. You saw him standing still in quite a frozen manner. You tapped his back and he carefully turned around. You searched his figure for any signs of injury until you saw what was hugging his knee. It was minute and hazel squirrel. You covered your mouth in an attempt to prevent giggles from coming out, but it was far too late. He furrowed his eyebrows, confused at why you would be laughing.
“(y/n), this squirrel won’t let go.” He said pointing at the knee occupied by the creature.
“I don’t know what to do!”
“I’ll just shake off then..”
“NO, IT MIGHT GET HURT!” You protested a little too loudly which frightened the animal. It scurried down Peter’s leg and ran off back into the wild. The now squirrel-free loser gave a proud grin squinting his eyes.
“Thanks. Now I’m squirrel free!”
You roll your eyes at his pride as another squirrel creeps up close and runs up Peter’s leg. His eyes widen again and he speaks in a loud voice “I don’t have anything!”. You just stare at his failure and laugh. You were such a great friend. The squirrel just crept closer and closer up his leg.
“(y/n)!” He slightly yelled as you rubbed your eyes at all the laughter that was coming out. You held up a hand still laughing, but letting the laughter slowly die down. You put your hand down and responded.
“I’m sorry, Parker, but I’m pretty sure there must be something they want in your pocket.”
He went through his pockets to see if there was anything was there, but it was as empty as the author’s soul. The squirrel then proceeded to randomly get down and run back into the woods. Peter looked up extremely confused with his eyebrows furrowed.
She should feel dirty, nauseous, repulsed, but his breath is hot against her skin and she cannot ignore the crackle of his magic pushing against her bones. Tom Riddle is magnetic in all the meanings of the word, and she blames hormones and puberty for the rush of desire that sets her blood on fire when he presses closer.
“You’re sick,” she whispers unconvincingly, and he smiles, sharp and feral.
Abraxas snuggles closer into the other boy’s side. “No.”
“Asleep people don’t answer.” Tom smiled, his lips barely touching Abraxas’ forehead, making him open an eye.
“They probably don’t date annoying people though.” He sat up slightly, moving his pillow. “So what do you want?”
Tom looked away, pulling at a loose thread on the blanket. “It’s not important. Go back to sleep.”
Abraxas yawned. “No.” Tom looked up at him and he grinned slightly. “This is clearly important, so just tell me.”
Tom looked away. “I’m thinking of changing my name.” His voice was so quiet Abraxas could barely hear him. “Well, not changing exactly, but a pseudonym.”
“What to?” Abraxas said after a moment. He knew how much Tom hated his father. He was there when he got back from visiting.
Tom lifted his wand from the bedside table, writing his name in glittering gold letters before them. He glared at them for a second as Abraxas ran his hands through Tom’s hair. A quick flick of his wand had Tom’s name rearranging itself. As they settled, Abraxas slid back down, murmuring what it said.
“'I am Lord Voldemort.’ I like it.”
Tom turned to face him. “You don’t think it’s too much. I thought it would help create a hierarchy and you-”
Abraxas cut him off with a kiss. “I like it, my lord.” He whispered against Tom’s lips, gasping when Tom kissed him suddenly.
They parted a few minutes later, Abraxas laughing. “I need to sleep, my Lord. Some of us have early classes.”
“Miss it.” Tom kissed him again, but sighed when they parted. “You’re not gonna miss it, are you?”
Abraxas shook his head and they curled around each other, the letters still shining above them.
‘This was really an amazing experience. I mean I’d never made a movie that was this big before I got this role. Unlike this lovely gentleman on my left’ you smiled pointing at Tom. ‘This whole fame that came right now can be a little bit overwhelming. People shouting for you on streets, posters with your name everywhere and such’
‘Miss Y/S/N that sounds great and looks perfect with the right font’ Tom chimed in.
‘But not for long right?’ interviewer asked ‘Or are you planning on keeping your surname? Let’s talk about your big day!’
‘Oh yes!’ you giggled teasingly showing your engagement ring to the camera. ‘I think I’ll stick with my surname. Like Tom said it has a nice ring to it’ you laughed placing your palms in your lap, your eyes glued to the ring.
But if you would have looked up you would have noticed how Tom’s face fell at mention of your engagement, how he looked down and tried to not show his emotions.
He had been late. Only half of hour late. He was in front od your house when you sent him a text message and a photo of your hand. He didn’t even get a chance to knock at your door to tell you that this year he spent filming with you had been the best year of his life. He couldn’t tell you that seeing you in the morning with your bed hair and bunny slippers eating cereals always made is day. He couldn’t tell you that your late night conversations meant everything to him. He couldn’t tell you he loved you and asked you to leave your boyfriend and to be his.
And he never knew that you would have done it for him.
It’s after midnight on an otherwise uneventful Friday in late
October. Sirius is sitting hunched over the only desk they bother keeping in
the office, hands curled protectively around a steaming mug of bourbon-spiked
hot cocoa. He’s glaring at a black-and-white picture of Tom Marvolo Riddle—street name: Lord Voldemort—and having
dark, dark thoughts about things like
chiseled jawlines and lush red mouths and concentrated
evil disguised as an underwear model—
“Man, your hate-boner for that Riddle guy is out of control,” James suddenly remarks,
sidling through the front door with a grease-stained Arby’s bag and a dog-eared
Sirius jerks backwards, reflexively flailing his arms and
knocking a stack of perfectly legally
acquired photographs to the floor; his cocoa, thank fuck, remains upright.
“What—boner?” he repeats, vaguely scandalized. “I don’t—there
aren’t any boners here, James, who do
you think—what kind of asinine—”
James just arches a brow and offers Sirius a curly fry.