I still owe some starters, so that starter call is still up if anyone else wants one!! I will get to the rest in the morning, however, so pls don’t think I forgot you xoxo
There is no accusation laced in such simple words, no THREAT poised precariously
in his tone. No, there is only the question, spoken soft && careful. For some, a
display of power would ensure loyalty-- for others, the promise of reward. But
for her? --------------------( For her, he gave faux intimacy ).
Nails dug oh so gently into the fabric of his robes before retracting, Pansy landing back onto her heels with a huff. Long creamy legs strided over to the chair before placing herself prompting onto the leather arm. Curious eyes dared to scan the page, recognizing the potions ingredients but not the concoction itself.
“Tom, that defines itself as a date. I even followed it up with, ‘I’ll wear the dress of mine you like so much if you wear that tie’.” Was his mind seriously so preoccupied he couldn’t even recall a simple exchange? Merlin, what was she to do with him.
“If it is potions that you’re studying, allow me to help you.” She stated with confidence before leaning back onto the chair, a slender arm lying across his shoulders. One thigh crossed over the other as hazel hues fixated onto him with adoration. Something she’d never allow him to truly see in her expressions. “Or we are going to Hogsmead for dinner. You need to keep up public appearances, Tom. Your name has stopped dropping from other’s lips. It no longer is in the air. You’re letting the regime die out before it even starts.”
As quickly as it had come, her touch had gone, leaving a grimace for but a moment across handsome features. She was lucky Tom hadn’t hexed her the moment her petite fingertips reached his robes. The last thing the Slytherin wanted, however, was to cause a scene & Pansy had threatened such before.
“ Call it what you will– I meant nothing more than to ensure that those I associate with are held to high standards. “ The book snapped shut, tucked away on the opposite side of his body as if to hide it from her prying gaze. “ I require no such help, least of all from you. Correct me if I am mistaken, but I was under the impression that I allowed you to accompany me for appearances– Not for you to involve yourself with my studies. “
His tone was flat, lips twisted into an amused smirk nonetheless. While other students saw only ‘Tom Riddle, the model student’, Pansy Parkinson saw him for what he was ( to a certain degree, anyway ). She saw him for the ambitious, capable DARK wizard that he was.
“ I am not letting—-,” piercing blue eyes narrowed before meeting hers with a sigh, “Fine. I suppose it can do no harm. But this is not a d a t e. “
“ Ah, Regulus Black. Your parents speak highly of you. Quite the shame
they refused my offer. Surely you will not follow in their footsteps-----
It would be a pity for such a pure bloodline to be on the wrong side of history. “
‘Loyal, a clever young wizard’.
‘Patient and capable’.
They certainly sung his praises, but only a fool would trust hearsay: Was it true?
The Dark Lord had no use for a b o y, let alone one without impeccable dueling skills,
regardless of ‘patience’ or ‘effort’. Alas, one must make sacrifices for WAR. It was
on the horizon, close enough to taste the sting of copper & smell the DEATH in the air
“ As captivating as that sounds, “
A pause, an eyebrow arching with indifference
& a frown tugging at the corner of his lips.
“ I’m afraid I am of little help.
I’ve seen nothing of the sort. “
Perhaps he has some idea, but he’d
prefer not to WASTE his breath.
“ I would advise that you move, lest you be
met with most unpleasant C O N S E Q U E N C E S. “
Venom drips from flat words, a flash of RED overpowering blue,
& long arms fold behind the man’s back. There is l i t t l e he
overlooks– INSUBORDINATION is not an exception.
guidelines are simple! reblog this with your character’s name, their era and whether they are canon or an oc in the tags. only harry potter rp blogs count, if you have a hp verse that is not enough.
;; Okay so: Long story short, since I was gone so long I cleared my drafts out. If you want a thread continued, message me. Otherwise, I will post a starter call soon. Please message me for any plot discussions though! Below the cut will be just a ‘catch up’ for those interested.
So I originally made this blog like, sophomore or junior year of highschool lmao. I was 16 or 17 back then in any case. Now, I’m in my last year of college and almost 20, so a lot has changed. I really am happy to be back here, but so much seems different. Almost none of the blogs I used to write with are still active, save for a handful. Is there anyone from the HP fandom still here? Please please let me know of any good HP RP blogs oh my goddd.
It’s going to take a little for me to find me groove here again. I’ll need time to get back into my muse and probably longer to get some threads going. So any help you guys would like to give me in regards of who to follow, I would appreciate.
Otherwise, I’m glad to be back! Another quick note, I’m living in a shitty apartment until August (Long story, I was homeless for a hot minute but no worries) so I don’t have access to my desktop computer with all my icons, so I only have whatever was on my laptop here lmao.
“Oh Tom,” her voice echoed throughout the corridors before finally finding him sitting in one of the leather chairs, a book placed neatly upon his lap. Pushing her weight onto the tips of her toes, Pansy draped her arms over the back of the chair until her hands rested on his chest. Lightly patting him to assure she had his full and undivided attention. “Where have you been hiding, love? Did we not have a little d a t e at Hogsmead?”
Hungry eyes roamed over yellowed pages, slender fingers resting on the spine of an
old potions book. The sharp click of heeled shoes reached his ears long before she did.
A sigh-- Tom’s jaw tightened for but a moment before a smug smile stretched his face.
“ I’ve hardly been h i d i n g, Pansy.”
Her touch B U R N E D through his robes, but he would show no signs of protest.
It was such a shame she found him so soon-- Researching a particularly nasty
draught sounded marginally more appealing than whatever she wanted.
“ We had no plans for a date-- As I recall, you wished to accompany
me to Hogsmead this afternoon. Unfortunately, I am rather busy.“
I can be a little slow with regular starter calls, but this whole ‘permanent starter call’ business sounds exactly what I need. So! Like this post if I’m allowed to post random starters for you OR come to you for plotting at any time! *Nonmutuals can like this, but bear in mind I will be selective.
without offense meant to anyone, I reserve the right not to respond to messages that violate one or more of my rules. after all, my rules exist to inform people of my personal preferences and thus avoid awkward situations in which I have to turn people down for those exact reasons. in my opinion, it is quite rude of anybody to either fail to read someone’s rules before attempting to interact or to ignore them entirely and attempt to interact as if you will be the exception. I am not a confrontational person. my rules are a useful way to make my boundaries clear without having to step outside my personal comfort zone in order to keep my own blog as happy a place for me as I can. by failing to read or flat out ignoring my rules, you have already disrespected me in my own space and I do not feel I should be obligated to dignify that with a response.
"You have no need to worry about the Ministry,“ her voice quickly spiraling into a pure pathetic stage of begging. "they take a simple bribe. How do you believe my father has gotten away with this for so long? Slip them a few coins and they keep it hush hush. Yes – this is big. This is huge but we have the money for it.” How much more of this could she possibly take? How much longer before the anger of her father k i l l e d her? It was not an exaggerated thought - not at all. He had made the threats before and would continue to do just that until he followed through.
As Tom left the comfort of the bed, Parkinson readjusted her gown to cover up the marks left behind for decency measures. “He’s going to kill me, Tom. I do not care if what she says is true I need a man, someone strong-willed with a head on their shoulders who has magic much stronger than any individual I know to help! Do you think I would ask this upon anyone? I would never allow you to face the consequences, I just really NEED you. Is that so hard to understand? Someone needing you?”
Why did she even bother asking? She had not only ruined her chances of freedom but the only protector she had left would leave her side doubtlessly. How foolish she had become. Breaths now labored Pansy hastily moved onto her feet and began to pace the floors, assuring to keep her distance from Riddle. To see her cry. To watch the tears sliding down her face, the panic on her face – anything aside from the confidence she would usually feign on her features to come across as powerful all washed away. “It is not though I am bribing you, it is a payment in return. I promised you a future of success and followers, how is this too much? Think of all I have done for you to make you turn from an orphan child – you looked like one, too. I changed you to look like a gentleman and a man with power. What will you do if he kills me the second you leave? Go back to that? Your little crowd of admirers will leave. You will be alone.”
Walking over to him in now a slow pace, Pansy tried to reign in her anxiety before setting a hand on his shoulder. “I am sorry for speaking out of fear. Just – go.. If this is too much for you to do then I will handle it. I will handle the possible doom that will come. I am an adult, I can do this..”
“Corrupt as the Ministry may be, I can’t help but believe it would be rather difficult for them to overlook an underage wizard casting an Unforgivable-- Let alone the KILLING CURSE.” HEARTLESS. That’s what Fay Dunbar had called him on more than one occasion. And she certainly wasn’t w r o n g. Even still, he had a role to play && a DEBT to repay. “I do not argue whether your father is deserving of life;; He must pay for what he’s done-- is doing-- to you.”
Memories of broken bones && bruised skin burn under his robes, a painful reminder of his e x p e r i e n c e growing up in the orphanage, but he did well to IGNORE such hindrances. The anger would linger even if the Parkinson’s wish was fulfilled, that much Tom himself could attest to.
A sigh, fingertips raising to press against his temples only to become frozen mid-air as her words hit him. Is that so hard to understand? Someone needing you? YES, he wanted to say, the word trapped on his tongue as if hexed. Being n e e d e d-- It was a strange thought, one he could not become accustomed to in a typical manner. Being DEPENDED on, being IN CONTROL, was a different feeling. Eyes meet hers, tongue wetting dry lips && she was met with silence && an odd look.
“ ------ I would never let him KILL you.”
Her own ragged breathes broke the tension, Tom hesitating only a moment before meeting her with a stride of his own towards her. Strong hands landed on the girl’s narrow shoulders, a grimace flashing across his features. “After everything you’ve done for me, I owe you much, Pansy. Without your help, my success would undoubtedly have taken far longer. Your father is a TERRIBLE man, one that the world would be better off without.”
Thumb brushing her cheek with a weak tenderness, salty tracks of tears were wiped away as he continued. “But I can not let you face him alone. Do not let your FEAR influence your thoughts. I will not KILL him, but I can assure that he n e v e r raises a hand against you again.” Diplomacy, what a surprise. Perhaps, with the proper CURSE and promise of torture, he could. . . e n d this prematurely.
With the flick of her wrist, a pop announced ricocheted between battered bones and inked skin. A skeleton raveled beneath skin forged from iron and fire and prepared for war. Words found refuge on a bitter tongue that barked with a bite that ached to the tips of calloused fingers. Crimson lips painted from the blood that does not pump through her enemy’s veins anymore pushed the string of syllables in the natural growl her husky tone supplied, unwilling to reveal any mystery that were rattling within her cage of mystery and bone.
“ well, I think we can scratch m e r m a i d off that list.”
&& pursed lips drew tighter, brow knit together with a declaration of INTEREST that spoke all the words he would not say. Confidence dripped from her movements, lacing her words with iron webbing as strong as any armour might -- but he did not falter-- did not surface his motives through a question, let alone another a c c u s a t i o n. They were two separate PUZZLES whose pieces were pulled away && the BATTLE to complete the picture had already begun.
“ a w i s e observation, though I can’t say it had been considered. ”
Every villain/criminal follows a very explicit set of rules specific to their ideals/beliefs. Of course, these rules tend to be very irregular and contradict with ‘normal’ values, but they’re almost sacred to the individual. Tom Riddle is no different. We know that Tom is highly prestigious and places a strong focus on symbolism (see: horcrux victims), and we certainly know that he’s a cold-blooded murderer. But killing, to him, is such a large part of his belief set that is almost always overlooked. Voldemort killed a lot of people, but more often than not, he sent Death Eaters to carry out his dirty work. Why? Because those targets were undeserving of his respect.
Every villain/criminal follows a very explicit set of rules specific to their ideals/beliefs. Of course, these rules tend to be very irregular and contradict with ‘normal’ values, but they’re almost sacred to the individual. Tom Riddle is no different. We know that Tom is highly prestigious and places a strong focus on symbolism (see: horcrux victims), and we certainly know that he’s a cold-blooded murderer. But killing, to him, is such a large part of his belief set that is almost always overlooked. Voldemort killed a lot of people, but more often than not, he sent Death Eaters to carry out his dirty work. Why? Because those targets were undeserving of his respect.
It’s those that he killed personally that are instrumental in understanding his views on death.
Obviously, he views death in very simple terms-- Finality, Commitment, An End, Loss, etc. (Which I will explaining when I write a post about his fear of death sometime soon, so stay tuned for that!) To Tom Riddle, killing others is the greatest gift he can offer. Death is precious when done by his hand, as it is such an intimate experience where he is bringing their story to a close and is taking away the most important, precious thing to any creature-- Their Life. As such, he does not give a death by his hand, or shall we say his wand, lightly. Those that he personally kills are being shown one of the highest acknowledgements of worth that he can give.
But what about the Potters!? What about his muggle family!?
Good questions, yes, so let me explain. The Potters should be pretty clear, but I’ll indulge you. The prophecy was pretty frightening to Tom-- He spent his whole life working to be above death, and suddenly he’s hit with the thought that someone might actually take that away from him. And, relating most to the Potters, he targeted them (though this still applies to Alice and Frank, mind you in different manners). Starting with James, he literally stood ready to fight the Dark Lord without a wand. Let that sink in. Tom, even stripped of his humanity via the horcruxes, saw the massive amount of bravery and dedication that took. That alone won him points of respect. And Lily? Giving her life to protect her son? The same thing. Yes, he did consider it foolish, as he’s unable to understand attachment or love, but the logistics of the actions still stood. Of course, one can argue that since he went alone, he didn’t have a choice but to kill them on his own. But I firmly believe he wouldn’t have done so if he didn’t already hold them in a high regard, believing them capable of destroying everything he worked for.
As for his own father and muggle family, which he killed personally, it gets a little more complex. He doesn’t respect or hold muggles anywhere near his level, don’t get me wrong. This, however, goes beyond a black and white “muggle” issue. There are the people who, in his eyes, single handedly held him back from his full potential. These are the people who made him half-blooded rather than a pureblood. These ‘stupid’ muggles set an obstacle that would, as he saw it, hinder him for his entire life. As furious and disgusted as that made him, it was an admirable feat. Yes, his rage and hatred of muggles certainly came into play, but he made the choices to kill them on his own. It would’ve been marginally easier for him to let his uncle do the dirty work, Imperio another muggle, send one of his followers, etc.
With this in mind, Tom view death by his hand as a sort of decoration of achievement-- As if he’s saying “You did something impossible and you made a legitimate attempt against me/marked a momentous point in my life. This is the reward you get; You are being slain by a god.”
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