nightmare cries / tom riddle
yes, more tom riddle content because yall depriving a lot of people of him. we stan a mysterious and wicked slytherin.
requsted by @veronicanor : Hello, I had a dream last night where Tom Riddle was dead (someone killed him I dunno who was it bcs it was only a dream) and I woke up and crying for no reason. Could you please write where Tom Riddle comforting his girlfriend and assure her everything would be fine and he's always by her side no matter what (cuddles her tightly in his arms). I've read your "unworthy" fanfic in quotev it's so good everytime you update it I'm so happy and squeal and my bro was like "wtf is wrong with u?" 😂 Tq❤️
dawww thank you so much, you're so sweet 💛 don't worry, i gotchu. tell your bro to *snaps fingers in z* mind his own business.
In the dead of evening, when every soul has succumbed to slumber and the creatures of the night awoke to reign claim their temporary reign over the silence and tranquil of earth, a small figure - seemingly a mere blotch of black in the masterpiece called the universe - was rooted in the gentle caress of the cold breeze, arms folded over their chest in hopes of discovering warmth in her own will and body.
Moonlight was scarce as clouds overlapped the crecent moon, and from the distance - ears preening and eyebrows knotting - you can hear the noises of messenger owls flapping their wings through the unforgiving chatter of the wind in their journey to the other patron between conversing individuals, but your own mind spoke volumes, retelling a twisted fairy tale over and over in the quiet of the dark that surrounded you.
Nightmares was a common occurence - in your own sphere of thoughts and desires once the lights has been dimmed, you either rest easy in a dreamless landscape or be eaten away by misfortune and spend the rest of your time in your slumber chasing after reality, somehow it was better to be conscious about the imperfections of the world rather than face the horror and fear that plagued your mind.
Tonight was one of the latter, unfortunately for you. You awoke beside your lover drenched in sweat, breathing short and labored, and quivering from the fleeting memory of your nightmare. It was miraculous that your significant other had not been roused from his rest - he slept soundly, head nestled on his pillow and hands outstretched in his previous embrace around you, completely oblivious to the frightening imagery that played in your head that felt all too real for you to push through the nightmarish scenarios extracted from your own fears and pursue further reinvigoration.
Nightmares were the farthest thing from reality, but even so, that does not mean they cannot sink their teeth unto you and haunt you as you went about your day and routines.
Earlier that night, the very reason you hoisted yourself from the comfort of your bed and ventured to the terrace where the wind blew your locks and the light touched your skin, you have witnessed the death of your lover, Tom Riddle.
People say that once they wake up from either a dream or a nightmare, they will forget it in a moment. However, you were one of the rare cases that did not experience the same fleeting memory of trauma, and for once, you wished you did.
Remains of war ran rampant around you - varying sizes of fallen debris, buildings and statues torn from their foundation, broken roads and streets, sprays of crimson, littered bodies of victims - and the air smelled of smoke and blood. Everywhere you looked was just massacre and demolition - it was a frightening sight to take in - but what made your present fear flourish even further than it is now, successfully paralyzing you in a place you couldn't even begin to consider as somewhere that could conceal your presence efficiently, was the the sight before you.
A tear streamed down at the corner of your eye, the wet bead running down at the side of your head and making its journey all the way to your chin.
I can't even think about it. I don't want to think of it. Your hands untangled themselves from your chest and came flying to your hair, fingers bunching strands against the pressure of your tips. Tom is still alive.
"May I ask," A voice broke the chain of silence that hung in the air, startling you. "Is it your hobby to make me worry about you?"
You whipped around, facing the direction of the source of the voice and you nearly choked in your own saliva upon seeing Tom Riddle standing several steps away from you, moused curls flitting in the wind and still clothed in the same apparel he wore in his sleep. Fatigue and stress was conspicuous on his features, but there was the unmistakable glint of concern and fondness in his eyes that perhaps may not perceive, but you did.
It's just a nightmare. You thought as you appraised your significant other from where you stood, thoroughly examining his being as though to convince yourself that indeed he was before you and not mirage derived out of your own fright and denial. But why do I feel like I truly lost him?
Tom let out a sigh when no response heeded his inquisition. "You're crying." He remarked, and only then did you pay attention to the pathetic display you projected. The tear that had previously left your eye had dried on your skin but by the time you were aware of this, it was soon followed by its same kind manifestation. Aforementioned male advanced towards you and took your face in his hand, leaning in to examine you closely. "What is bothering you, my love?"
Your heart hammered at the mention of your endearment. My love. You never grew tired of hearing it from him. If only you could lay with him without the troubles of the world, without his wicked schemes, without Dumbledore, without Amortentia, hell - even without magic, you'd want more of his praises and love, listen to his voice and allow your self to be lulled to a peaceful rest.
"Nothing is bothering me, Tom." You told him as convincingly as your tongue can manage in his presence, but you knew your attempt was futile for this man you inside and out more than you ever did to yourself. "We should get back inside," You urged, rotating your body properly to face him. "It's getting cold."
You ventured forward in hopes of passing Tom, to leave behind this night and completely forget about it in the morning, but Tom lifted his arm to block your path, and you halted.
"I don't have to read your mind to know you are lying." Commented Tom. "Should you lie again, I will make you regret it."
You winced lightly at his words, but never bothered answering him. This was always his tactic, to threaten you, but despite the many times you have went against wishes or made mistakes, he never initiated any form of punishment. It could be considered his way of affection.
"We should get back inside." You repeated in the same mellow voice, eyes trained to the ground.
"We're going to stay out here until you tell me the truth. I woke up in an ungodly hour to find my darling fiancee nowhere in my arms, not even on my bed, beside me. I think I have the right to know what made you leave. Or do you rather having me forcing myself to use Legilimency on you without consent? Which will it be?"
You let out an inaudible sigh. You should have known better he would never let something such as this to be cast aside where light of recognition will never touch it again anymore. He always gets what he wants, no matter how much you or any other people in general try to deprive him off it.
Your eyes widened as you felt his fingers pinch your chin in his gentle hold, and he tilted your head up, forcing your eyes to meet with his. His gaze was hard and held authority - a total contrast of his action, as well as a silent reminder to heed his command. Though you suspected no punishment will be served, disappointing him is the last thing you wanted to do, especially not when your whole evening had already been dreadful ever since the sun fell and the moon rose.
Without second guessing your following actions, you angled yourself a little more to the side and enveloped Tom in a heated embrace, face buried on his clothed chest. You felt him tense under your touch, caught off guard by your actions, but slowly warmed up to the idea and returned your affection with his own, his chin dropping on top of your head and bringing you closer to him as much as a human possibly can.
"I had a . . . " You trailed off, throat tightening. You never thought expressing yourself to your own partner can be so damned difficult. You had half a mind to extract yourself away from him and scurry back to your residence, forsaking him in the night until a tense morning would come and visit them. But with his gentle embrace around you, a hand on the small of your back and fingers of the others playing with the strands of your hair, you cannot possibly do your former scheme. " . . . a nightmare."
Your fiancee hummed thoughtfully, eyes closing, "A nightmare? About what? What was so frightening that you had to leave me in bed and gave me the scare of my life?"
The concern his statement projected nearly had you melting in his hold. It was rare for your lover to express his feelings and emotions in a verbal form, at times even his actions were restrained so hearing him worry about you felt like a breath of fresh air.
As soon as those words escaped your lips, Tom visibly froze, and after a few moments, he pulled away and looked down at you, brows burrowed together. "Is that all?" His calm response to your confession astounded you, retinas gleaming in the same emotion that rendered your body to paralysis. A smile carved on his lips and his hand lowered away from your chin to slither down to your waist, physically tying you down on your location. "My love, my darling [ Your Name ], you shouldn't be troubled with that kind of delusion. No man will be able to lay a hand or curse on me."
Your lower lip were pinned down by your teeth, eyes morphing to a squint and vision narrowing. "But what if something like that does really happen?" You interposed, voice reaching a pitch that hurt your throat. Your arms around me turned vice like, more so than earlier and you felt a new wave of tears prickle your eyes. "I can't lose you. No way, I can't handle that. Even the thought of it - "
Your words were drawn to a stop once you felt Tom purchase his lips unto yours, silencing you completely. He drew back before you could reciprocate his kiss and raised one hand to tread through the short strands of hair perched on your forehead.
"Listen to me, [ Your Name ]," He called out. "I will not die, this is for certain. With everything I have workes for, I will not let anything or anyone stop me. And most of all," Tom stared into your eyes, breathing in as his other hand reached down to intertwine itself around your left hand, a finger running across the surface of your ring. "I still have to marry you, and do well on my other kept promises."
Your heart pounded against your chest, a sensation of thrill running down your spine. "You don't mean to say . . . "
The laugh that escaped from Tom's lips was heavenly. For the first time, there was a genuine smile on his face.
"Let's return to our bedroom, shall we? And once we get inside," He captured your lips once more and pulled away. "We can discuss the possibility of you . . . bearing my child."
And with that, the memory of your nightmare fleeted away, just as you wanted it to, and with your hand interlocked with the hand of your beloved, you two walked back to your household, wholly blind to the threat that will fall unto the two of you in a form of a lightning scarred child.
