heir2slytherin: (Carved Initials)
Title / Prompt: 3/08 -- When love is not madness, it is not love. - Pedro Calderon de la Barca
Character: Tom Riddle, the boy who becomes Voldemort
Warnings: I'm having one of those low creativity months. Sorry.
Pairings: Tom/Blaise
Your character's fandom: Harry Potter
Word count: 193 per PocketWord
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own Tom Riddle -- if I did, he'd have decent motivations.
Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] licenseartistic


He had spent much of his young life fully believing that love was a weakness. That needing someone else that much was to risk a loss of self, and possibly even destruction. He held himself apart and aloof, above everyone who called him friend or lover and certainly above any who did not recognize his greatness.

But this boy from the future -- this rough, bold, disrespectful and wild boy had found a way through his barriers and had swept him up in a storm of unfamiliar emotions. It was terrifying, but it was exhilarating, and he knew now that love was not the weakness he had always assumed it was.

It was madness to just let go and trust that Blaise would be there to catch him, but his lover never failed him. He learned to not only accept but also enjoy the madness that was love -- the thrill of emotions and pleasure that just being with Blaise could bring. And he knew that Blaise shared his madness gladly. As far as he was concerned, if they were both going to be insane together then everything was well with the world.
heir2slytherin: (Tom and Blaise)
Title / Prompt: 10/07 - Manip your muse in a costume. Write a 25 word ficlet about why that particular costume.
Character: Tom Riddle, the boy who becomes Voldemort
Warnings: not the best manip in the universe...
Pairings: AU!Tom/AU!Blaise
Your character's fandom: Harry Potter
Word count: 134 words
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own Tom Riddle -- if I did, he'd have decent motivations.
Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] licenseartistic


Tom and Blaise arrived at the party... )
heir2slytherin: (Default)
Title / Prompt: 9/07 - Sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast. --Lewis Carroll
Character: Tom Riddle, the boy who becomes Voldemort
Warnings: mention of violence
Pairings: none
Your character's fandom: Harry Potter
Word count: 359 per WordPerfect
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own Tom Riddle -- if I did, he'd have decent motivations.
Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] licenseartistic


At the age of five, he spoke with a snake. It was just an unassuming little snake, in the garden of the family who thought they were going to adopt him, but it was a snake nonetheless. Little boys weren't supposed to speak with snakes, especially not in their own language.

At the age of six, they had a brutal winter. The dorms were freezing, and one of the boys had already died from pneumonia. On his birthday he was too cold to even sleep. He finally drifted off sometime during the night and woke up the next morning to a cozy fire burning in the fireplace -- flames giving off wonderful heat, even though there was no wood there to burn...

At the age of seven, one of the other lads' pet rabbit bit him. In a completely instinctual reaction, he made the poor furry bastard fly across the room and snap its back against the wall. Of course, they accused him of throwing it. He was struck, and then again for lying. Good little boys did not destroy their friends' pets.

At the age of eight, the boy who owned the rabbit and his best friend cornered him in a cave while they were on a trip to the seaside. The two boys were found, half-drowned, hanging upside-down with their heads half under the rising water inside the cave. No one mentioned that there was no rope either of the boys were hanging from, and nothing for anyone to tie a rope to, besides.

At the age of ten, he was attacked by one of the older boys. Attacked, and hurt in ways that never appeared on any doctor's records. There were other incidents, but the older boy seemed to develop an uncanny streak of bad luck -- he fell down the stairs and broke his arm; he slipped on rough gravel and cut his knee badly enough that even when it healed, he still limped.

At the age of eleven, a man came to the orphanage to speak with him and told him he was a wizard, and suddenly all the rest of it made sense...
heir2slytherin: (Carved Initials)
Title / Prompt: Aug 2007 - Scars are tattoos with better stories. -From a Toyota advertisement in Sports Illustrated magazine, 3 June 2002
Character: Tom Riddle, the boy who becomes Voldemort
Warnings: AU; non-DH compatible
Pairings: AU Tom/AU Blaise
Your character's fandom: Harry Potter
Word count: 304 per PocketWord
Rating: PG-13 for mention of violence
Disclaimer: I don't own Tom Riddle -- if I did, he'd have decent motivations.
Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] licenseartistic


There is a small scar directly over his heart. Just a tiny silvery line -- nothing that stands out unless his skin is pink from exertion or after a hot shower. It isn't something he talks about, and very few -- if any -- living people know how he got it.

But when Blaise kisses it gently and asks him about it, he doesn't lie to his lover -- would never lie to his lover about something like this. "Grindelwald tried to steal my powers," he explains softly, carding gentle fingers through silky black locks.

Blaise props himself up and looks at him in shock. "What?"

Tom reaches out to take his hand, needing to feel his lover as he tells this tale, not wanting to be apart from him. "He knew how powerful I was; knew about my heritage, and had me kidnapped. I woke up in Durmstrang with the bastard and a bunch of his followers casting a ritual to raise the ancient powers..." His gaze is turned inward, watching the events unfold in his mind's eye as he continues. "When I felt it building up in me, I realized what he was trying to do but I was helpless to stop him... He stabbed me through the heart and took my blood, but when he drank it I was able to fight him from the inside with it..."

Softly, "He stabbed you through the heart, and you didn't die? You fought him through your own blood in him?" The note of awe in Blaise's voice is heady, and when Blaise kisses the scar again he moans softly and pulls him close. They caress each other gently, Tom's hands sliding over the vicious scars on Blaise's back, Blaise's lips and tongue sliding over Tom's scar, and all is right in the world.
heir2slytherin: (Carved Initials)
Title / Prompt: July 07 - Weave
Character: Tom Riddle, the boy who becomes Voldemort
Warnings: sappy ending
Pairings: Blaise/Tom
Your character's fandom: Harry Potter
Word count: 264 per PocketWord
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own Tom Riddle -- if I did, he'd have decent motivations.
Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] licenseartistic


Some of the most powerful and long-lasting magic was built up from the smallest, most simple of spells, woven layer upon layer to create something far greater than the sum of its parts. Tom learned this early on, when he tried to learn the secrets of the Room of Requirement and couldn't get beyond the first few layers of its magic.

Over the years, as he learned more varied spells including an increasingly exotic assortment he researched and learned on his own, he became more accomplished at the unravelling of complex magical constructs, until he was nearly there. He could see the magical framework that went into the making of that magnificent room, but he learned that he couldn't reconstruct it on his own. Instead, it had taken the combined magic of all four of the Founders to create it, all of their abilities and specialties weaving together to create one of the finest examples of collaborative magic in all of Hogwarts.

Tom did, however, manage to learn enough of the way it was made that some time later he was able to replicate it -- of course, in a much less permanent and much smaller fashion. Using a bookbag he had bought and nights of careful spell casting, he was able to make what he called a Bag of Requirement, and it was that bag that he gave his lover Blaise for his 20th birthday. He smiled when the first thing Blaise pulled out of it was a birthday card from him that read, "Happy Birthday, Blaise. Love always and all ways, Tom."
heir2slytherin: (Carved Initials)
Title / Prompt: 6/07 - The Thousandth Man
Character: Tom Riddle, the boy who becomes Voldemort
Warnings: Canon? We don't need no steenking canon!
Pairings: AU!Tom/AU!Blaise
Your character's fandom: Harry Potter
Word count: 306 per PocketWord
Rating: PG for references to violence and bodily harm
Disclaimer: I don't own Tom Riddle -- if I did, he'd have decent motivations.
Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] licenseartistic


Despite all of his power and all of his intelligence, Tom knew he would be nothing if it weren't for Blaise. His lover had saved his life, and saved his soul far more often than he could count.

There were times, in physical fights, when Tom was certain he would die until Blaise waded his way into the fray and flattened his attackers. Times in magical fights when Tom was nearly spent and Blaise gave him the strength to win without his ever even asking. Times when he awoke screaming from night terrors and Blaise was there to wrap him in his arms and soothe him, and protect him from the monsters lurking in the dark spaces of his mind.

But there was one act that embodied Blaise's selfless devotion to him. One thing that Tom knew he could never thank his lover enough for, or even truly explain to him how much it meant. When Tom thought he had lost his lover at the hands of the Potters and went after them in a murderous rage, he had found himself nearly slain by his own magic. His body destroyed by the backlash, he managed to keep himself from slipping away by sheer force of will and found himself drawn back to Blaise. Blaise was not dead after all, but gravely wounded, and still he kept Tom alive by sharing his mind with him.

Without his lover's sacrifice -- and he knew it was a sacrifice because there were times when both of them living in the same head was enough to drive them both insane -- he would have died, alone and lost to eternity. Blaise had given him a gift worth more than any material present, and he vowed that somehow, someway he would find a way to show him how much it meant.
heir2slytherin: (Tom and Blaise)
Title / Prompt: 5/07 - Picture Prompt - Lantern and bed
Character: Tom Riddle, the boy who becomes Voldemort
Warnings: hints of m/m sex
Pairings: Tom Riddle/AU!Blaise Zabini
Your character's fandom: Harry Potter
Word count: 245 per PocketWord
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own Tom Riddle -- if I did, he'd have decent motivations.
Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] licenseartistic


They've traveled far and wide, all over Europe to learn all they can of their own heritages and magic, and then outwards from there to learn the magic and spells of other cultures.

The Far East is both intimidating and attractive, and somehow they find themselves in a small hotel room in Japan. Tom is confused by the low bed, little more than a cotton-stuffed pad on a platform, but smiles at the soft silk quilts that they're given to pile onto the bed. He thinks that he and Blaise may grow to like this intriguing culture while they're here -- the weapons, the flavours, the music. It's all so different from what he's grown used to, but it fascinates all the same.

And at night, when the food is cleared away and the sounds of other guests grow quiet, he lights the candles set into the lantern on the low chest of drawers and stares at it as the soft green glow spreads through the room. Pale flames the colour of fresh bamboo flicker on the candle wicks, a hint of spring and the impending explosion of budding cherry and plum blossoms. A fresh, sweet scent rises on the warmth of the candle flames, and he turns to Blaise and smiles. The air is filled with a different kind of magic tonight, and they slip under the silk quilts and embrace each other, feeling the surge of spring stirring all around and through them.
heir2slytherin: (Studious Tom)
Title / Prompt: "I have never let my schooling interfere with my education." --Mark Twain
Character: Tom Riddle, the boy who becomes Voldemort
Warnings: suggestions of inappropriate relations between teacher and student
Pairings: hints of Slughorn/Tom
Your character's fandom: Harry Potter
Word count: 234 per PocketWord
Rating: PG-13 for mature themes
Disclaimer: I don't own Tom Riddle -- if I did, he'd have decent motivations.
Notes: at the end, under the cut
Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] licenseartistic


Knowledge is Power )
heir2slytherin: (The Dark Lord)
Title / Prompt: March 07 - Rock/Picture Prompt (Stone corridor)
Character: Tom Riddle, the boy who becomes Voldemort
Warnings: none
Pairings: none this time
Your character's fandom: Harry Potter
Word count: 538 per MS Word
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own Tom Riddle -- if I did, he'd have decent motivations.
Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] licenseartistic


cut for length )
heir2slytherin: (Angryface)
Title / Prompt: Feb 07 - "The more anger towards the past you carry in your heart, the less capable you are of loving in the present." - Barbara De Angelis
Character: Tom Riddle, the boy who becomes Voldemort
Warnings: none
Pairings: none
Your character's fandom: Harry Potter
Word count: 335 per MS Word
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own Tom Riddle -- if I did, he'd have decent motivations.
Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] licenseartistic


To say Tom Riddle was an angry young man was like saying night was dark, or the ocean was wet. He was angry at his mother for dying, at his father for abandoning him to the orphanage. He was angry at the people who supposedly cared for the children and angry at the children for treating him like a freak because he was different.

When he met Dumbledore, although he appreciated the news that he wasn't a freak -- instead a wizard, he was angry because the old man didn't trust him and automatically seemed to think he was trouble, just because of what the Matron said. He was angry that the man seemed to decide he wasn't worth his time, that all he was worthy of was being moulded into the daft old fool's idea of what a wizard was.

Once he began to learn how to control his significant magic, he was still angry. He knew, now, the shame of his half-Muggle birth -- at least if the things his fellow Slytherins were parroting were true. He knew he could protect himself and all of London from the bombs the Germans threw at them, but the government wouldn't allow underage magic use outside of school, and no one in the school seemed willing to point out that he could help them all. He was angry that he should be afraid for his own life when he knew there was no reason to be.

Tom Riddle was different, and he would not fit into anyone's mould of the perfect wizard -- he was going to show them all. He was going to make a name for himself and the rest of them would regret ever thinking badly of him. He used his anger to fuel his magic, and his power grew and grew until he could begin to take his revenge against all those who had hurt him. He would be the most powerful wizard of his age, and no one could stop him...
heir2slytherin: (Carved Initials)
Title / Prompt: Jan 07 - "Dreams come true. Without that possibility, nature would not incite us to have them." --John Updike
Character: Tom Riddle, the boy who becomes Voldemort
Warnings: au-ness
Pairings: Tom/AU!Blaise
Your character's fandom: Harry Potter
Word count: 257 per PocketWord
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own Tom Riddle -- if I did, he'd have decent motivations.
Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] licenseartistic


Tom never had anyone when he was younger. Even the other children at the orphanage treated him like an outsider, a freak, someone to fear or ridicule. He had no family, no one to care for him beyond the bare minimum the matron and other workers provided. And he managed to convince himself that this was just the way he liked it.

He didn't need anyone else -- needing people just made one weak, made one rely upon other people who could not be relied on, because they were weak, or liars, or out for themselves. And so, even when he was at Hogwarts, he kept himself aloof and apart, so certain of his own abilities and powers that he knew he could take care of himself.

Except that he would dream, on those dark lonely nights, of someone to hold him. Someone to soothe him when the lightning crashed and his mind fled back to those terrifying nights in London, cowering in the basement shelter away from the bombs. He would dream of someone's arms wrapped tight around him, a soft voice soothing and calming until he fell asleep, safe and protected.

But he did not dare believe these dreams -- he could not show any weakness around the others. He was too painfully aware of how quickly they would turn on him if they sensed a chink in his armour. He convinced himself that it was merely a fantasy -- until the day a cigarette ash burned him through his diary, and he met Blaise.
heir2slytherin: (Angryface)
Title / Prompt: 12/06 - From Nov. - Fear is a darkroom where negatives develop. --Usman B. Asif
Character: Tom Riddle, the boy who becomes Voldemort
Warnings: none
Pairings: none
Your character's fandom: Harry Potter
Word count: 448 per PocketWord
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Tom Riddle -- if I did, he'd have decent motivations.
Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] licenseartistic


Fear is a darkroom... )
heir2slytherin: (Lust and Love)
Title / Prompt: Temptation
Character: Tom Riddle, the boy who becomes Voldemort
Warnings: none
Pairings: Tom/Blaise
Your character's fandom: Harry Potter
Word count: 271 per PocketWord
Rating: PG-13 for suggestive behaviour
Disclaimer: I don't own Tom Riddle -- if I did, he'd have decent motivations.
Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] licenseartistic


There were nights where Tom would sit, reading ancient tomes of spells or trying to create his own masterpieces of magic, and Blaise would gradually get bored. Tom knew his lover found him sexy when he was concentrating on something, even more so when he wore his specs to read the cramped, faded handwriting of some ancient wizard who obviously thought that parchment was more precious than the gold they illuminated the initials with. But, after a while, even that wouldn't be able to hold Blaise's interest, and he would start to do various things to distract Tom.

At first, Tom would smile indulgently and steal glances up at his lover, amused to see him waggling his tongue naughtily at him, or doing a slow strip tease. Sometimes it would take him a while to realize that Blaise was stripping, but he'd look up and realize that his lover was no longer wearing his shirt, or -- if he took a very long time working on things -- sitting there completely naked.

Other times, he would be so acutely aware, his attention captured and held as Blaise leaned back on the sofa, already completely naked, and slowly stroking his cock to hardness. It was times like this that as much as he might try, he could not regain the studious mindset of earlier, and he'd find himself closing the book or putting away the ink and parchment, and stalking to stand over his naughty lover. The temptation was just too great, and they both knew that very little studying -- of books, at least -- would get done on those nights.
heir2slytherin: (We Kissed)
Title / Prompt: Want
Character: Tom Riddle, the boy who becomes Voldemort
Warnings: none
Pairings: Tom/AU!Blaise
Your character's fandom: Harry Potter
Word count: 296 per PocketWord
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own Tom Riddle -- if I did, he'd have decent motivations.
Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] licenseartistic


When he was a little boy, Tom Riddle wanted a family. More than anything, he wanted to be one of those children who went away with a nice family and stayed with them, growing up to be a normal child in a normal family with a normal life.

When he was a little older, he wanted the other children to leave him alone and stop picking on him, wanted them to stop hurting him and wanted to make them suffer for the pains and humiliations they caused him. It was around this time that he started to be able to do things when he was angry. Sometimes frightening and harmful things. But they deserved it because they had frightened and harmed him first.

When he was eleven, a strange man came to see him and explained why he was able to do things when he was angry. He wasn't a freak or possessed -- he was a wizard. A powerful one. When he was eleven, Tom Riddle wanted to be the most powerful wizard in all the land -- and the strange man sent him to a school where he could learn to do just that. It wasn't a normal school, he wasn't a normal boy, and he certainly wouldn't have a normal life.

But deep down inside, even with all his power and all his skill, there was still something he wanted. He never said it aloud and never told anyone -- except his diary and the boy who read it. And when that boy came to the past to be with him, he realized that love wasn't the weakness he had convinced himself it was and he didn't have to hide the fact that he wanted to be whole. Because with Blaise, he was.
heir2slytherin: (Carved Initials)
Title / Prompt: Picture Prompt 2 - Partial Eclipse
Character: Tom Riddle, the boy who becomes Voldemort
Warnings: None
Pairings: Tom Riddle/Blaise Zabini (AU)
Your character's fandom: Harry Potter
Word count: 415 per MS Word
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own Tom Riddle -- if I did, he'd have decent motivations.
Notes: Some information taken from Solar Eclipses in History and Mythology and other from my own memory. Hopefully I haven't botched any of it.
Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] licenseartistic


Cut for length )
heir2slytherin: (Tom and Blaise)
Title / Prompt: 8/06 - Picture Prompt - Dusseldorf
Character: Tom Riddle, the boy who becomes Voldemort
Warnings: none
Pairings: Tom/AU!Blaise
Your character's fandom: Harry Potter
Word count: 374 per PocketWord
Rating: PG for mention of lewd archtecture
Disclaimer: I don't own Tom Riddle -- if I did, he'd have decent motivations.
Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] licenseartistic


He knew they couldn't stay away from England and the Death Eaters forever -- gods alone knew what havoc they were wreaking while the two of them weren't there to scare them into nominally good behaviour. But for now, he agreed fully with Blaise. They needed to get away. He needed to get away. He needed some time where it was just the two of them, with no responsibilities, no politics, no masks.

They travelled to both Muggle and wizarding places, saw ancient buildings and modern structures; they saw the art nouveau houses in Vienna, where the buildings themselves were works of art; they saw the red light district in Amsterdam, where Tom found himself blushing like a virgin at the open displays of sexuality. Blaise took delight in showing him a fountain that was shaped like a penis, gushing water from its slit like an enormous pornographic cumshot. That evening, they went back to their inn and nearly wrecked the bed with their enthusiasm.

They continued on, travelling to different places in Europe -- a different kind of world travelling than they had done before, when Tom had been driven to learn every kind of magic he could find. They spent evenings drinking and dancing in country pubs, and every now and then Tom talked Blaise into a fine restaurant, wanting to splurge and buy his lover the finest foods. And one evening they walked down the Konigstrasse in Dusseldorf to see the most beautiful sight.

It was dark, a little overcast, and lights were on everywhere. The trees that grew on either side of the canal reached towards each other across it, forming an arch over the water that the lights turned into gold. It was beautiful, and they stopped on the bridge they were crossing to get a better look. Tom looked at Blaise and took his hands, then whispered, "I love you, Blaise Zabini," and kissed him thoroughly.

Blaise wrapped strong arms around him and answered, "I love you, my heart. No matter what happens I will catch you if you fall." Death Eaters and politics and wars be damned, for the moment they had each other and this gleaming archway of trees, golden and reflecting in the dark water.
heir2slytherin: (Tom and Blaise)
Title / Prompt: 7/06 - Love
Character: Tom Riddle, the boy who becomes Voldemort
Warnings: none
Pairings: Tom/AUBlaise
Your character's fandom: Harry Potter
Word count: 556 per PocketWord
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own Tom Riddle -- if I did, he'd have decent motivations.
Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] licenseartistic


Love )
heir2slytherin: (Studious Tom)
Title / Prompt:6-06 - Cookies
Character: Tom Riddle, the boy who becomes Voldemort
Warnings: Gratiuitous kitchen abuse
Pairings: Tom/AU!Blaise
Your character's fandom: Harry Potter
Word count: 1065 per MS Word
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own Tom Riddle -- if I did, he'd have decent motivations.
Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] licenseartistic


Cookies )

Comfort

Jun. 1st, 2006 11:48 pm
heir2slytherin: (Carved Initials)
What does 'comfort' mean to you?

The rumbling in the distance sounds like explosions, and Tom shivers. When he walks into the lounge room and sees the curtains open, it takes him a moment to get his panic under control and he has them half-way closed before he even realizes it. It isn't until the lightning splits the sky that he can make himself truly believe this is just a storm and nothing else.

Another rumble sounds, closer this time, and he can't quite hold in the whimper. Lightning flashes, and he sees Blaise reflected in the window, heading towards him with a worried look on his face. Strong arms go around him and turn him away from the window, and those blue eyes hold his gaze. There is no ridicule or annoyance in that blue gaze, just reassurance and comfort, and a fierce protectiveness. "It's just a storm, Tom. You're safe here," he murmurs, and Tom holds him close, flinches as another crack of thunder sounds from nearly overhead.

Blaise carefully leads him away from the window and to the bedroom, then they settle on the bed together, Tom wrapped in his protective embrace. "Just a storm, my heart. I've got you, you're safe..."

This, to Tom, is comfort. It's something he told himself he never needed, but when the irrational fears grip him and the thunder makes him think the bombs are coming again, two warm arms around him and a gentle soothing voice is exactly what he needs. Calm, now, he drifts off to sleep, knowing he can trust Blaise to not only protect him, but to never tell anyone that he needs this as much as he does.

-----
Fandom: Harry Potter
Muse: Tom Riddle, the boy who becomes Voldemort
Word Count: 276 per PocketWord
Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] theatrical_muse
heir2slytherin: (Bad Tom)
From [livejournal.com profile] badlieutenant

Um... no comment. )
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