#consuming shadows

[childotkw]

Welp, ybtm has officially overtaken CS with hits on AO3.

[vamp1r3gf]

CONSUMING SHADOWS (Child_OTKW) UPDATED???

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Have you read Consuming Shadows (Harry Potter)?

Yes, I am/was in the fandom

Yes, but I’m not in the fandom

No, but I’m in the fandom

No, I’m not in the fandom

Voting ended onMar 11, 2025

Summary: His attention skipped passed the students and moved to the politicians’ pavilion. His gaze locked with crimson, and he nearly faltered under the sheer hunger in those eyes. It unnerved him how fixated the man was on his dirtied, exhausted figure. But what troubled him more was the slight smirk he could make out on the man’s lips. It was almost pleased. — On the night of the attack, Lily managed to escape with her infant son, but at the cost of her husband’s life. Distraught and distrusting of her friends, she fled to France with Harry, to raise him away from the corruption in Britain and the rising influence of the Dark Lord. She trains him to the best of her abilities, shaping him into a dangerous, intelligent and powerful wizard. But when Britain re-establishes the Triwizard Tournament, and Harry, now known as Hadrian, is forced to return to his once-home, he finds himself questioning whether he really wants to kill the Dark Lord. Voldemort finds an unexpected challenge in the child, and as his intrigue and amusement grows, so too does the desire to possess the spark in those defiant green eyes.

Author: @childotkw

[caprisonnetrinker]

Gonna reread Consuming Shadows

Do wish me luck and sanity

[star-crossed-friends]

The thorn in my side just may be you

He envied him with the fury of a thousand suns.

(Cabadath/Trilby, angst and unhealthy stuff, and physical and mental hurt)

(I'm Not a Thief, I'm a Treasure Hunter — A Skylit Drive)

Mission: destroy Buzzers nest in city garden.

It's hard to breathe, thick, whitish fog that covers labyrinthine garden is clogging in lungs, soaking into clothes, settling on my exposed skin, and moving around arms like a small gnat swarm, covering a gun.

Shadows from the other world lay on that veil, playing, creating ethereal images of the creatures from the Land of Magic.

"One" step forward "Two" lean shoulder against shaped bush.

On third, counting is easier.

On fourth, a rumble burns ear.

On fifth, around the corner, a slightly cleared eye notices a pulsing, overflowing nest of creatures.

On sixth…

The sting of the Worker Buzzer came in below the elbow.

A palm blow flung the small body away — a corpse.

It hurts.

Feeling the blood, dozens of Buzzers rose into the air.

Soldier Buzzer, Worker Buzzer, Soldier Buzzer, Worker Buzzer, Soldier Buzzer.

Letting out a harsh exhale through gritted teeth, Trilby stepped back, swung his gun.There are too many of them. Some of it is real, some of it isn't.

Fog or opium.

It hurts.

Another sting, next to the previous one — next to swollen, quickly swelling inflamed mark.

Deeper.

It hurts.

A swing. The attacking row of buzzing soldiers turned into a sticky mass, clung to scythe blades, and slid down the sleeve of the long cloak.

Another swing. Dome of the nest collapsed inwards from a cross-blade blow.

Buzzers retreated; they never dared touch the Prince.

"Tall man"

Cabadath.

"You" Trilby breathed out, not in a respectful bow, the pain dragging him to the ground and his floating vision barely recognizing the world beyond the Prince's back.

Everything converged on the nest, on the sound — a sound so similar to what he'd saw at the hotel.

Only then Cabadath struck lumberjack, not nest.

Again and again.

Body. Nest. Body. Nest.

 Again… Prince was in front of him.

Sudden touch to his forehead is warm, burning with heat of skinless flesh.

Trilby flinched away, and the back of his head slammed against front car door.

His eyes went black and his palms unclenched.

 It hurts.

There was just enough hesitation to miss the moment when Cabadath dropped down next to him, pulled up the edge of his jacket, and snatched his shirt from beneath his loose vest.

"You" Trilby repeats muffledly.

Prince didn't answer, didn't turn his blank face toward him — he pulled, tearing off the strip of cloth easily.

"Why?" Trilby understood the gesture, even before Kabadath grabbed his wounded arm.

Torn fabric tugged tightly above the elbow.

Prince stood up.

"Too late" the burning sensation licked muscles, "Bring first aid kit"

Cabadath tilted his head.

"In the car" was the Tall Man before his eyes a monster "Above" or an agent from the Ministry, whose appearance was twisted by a demented mind.

Shall he allow him to help or defend himself?

Does the murderer and thief deserve forgiveness?

Shards of the window broken by the end of scythe fell to the ground.

"Who are you?!

Straps that held the first aid kit in place popped.

"Who?" Trilby remembered how lucky Siobhan had been.

If he hit harder, if he had something heavier than a packet of sedatives at hand, if she hadn't woken up.

If…

Prince tossed the first aid kit.

Inside, the ampoules clashed loudly against each other.

"Scholar?" attempt at a guess and a nickname.

Nothing; Cabadath froze in waiting — just like a human.

"You're not from the ministry, are you?" a suggestion.

A cultist coming to help the pawn of prophecy?

Who dares to hide behind Prince mask?

In response, Cabadath only pushed the first aid kit closer.

"I can handle it" tongue not listening "Go away"

The Prince did not move.

"Please" whoever reached out must leave "Please leave" Trilby's once nimble, now numb fingers could barely open the latch lock "Or kill"

Crouching down, Cabadath pointed to one of the syringes.

And Trilby obeyed the Prince.

"Happy?" antidote in his blood makes it easier to think, easier to accept his position — to draw a conclusion.

Cabadath nodded.

"For what?"

Cabadath swing his scythe.

"Your King…"

In a steel flash, the blade of the scythe appeared under Trilby's chin.

"Come on, kill me" closeness of death and the support behind his head pulled a phantom from his mind — the image of open palm in front of his face, — Again.

Сabadath stepped back: unnaturally easy carve something on the ground.

Disappeared with a final line, a spark.

"Not Chzo" Trilby lifted his head enough to recognize the rune.

Last and missing one.

Cabadath confirmed what the warehouse walls hinted at — what was behind the orange glow.

"Not Chzo" if virtue is a cult trap, a patch of distant and dry land in front of a drowning dog, then they're wasting their time.

His work is done.

Under the care of the Man in Red, next one will pay the debt.

Not him.

"Not Chzo" if it weren't for the danger, if it weren't for the race against time, if it weren't for the ringing of new messages — then thoughts, hooks would have pulled more threads of logic.

A tangle, pressing on sanity, realization of what was happening.

"Not Chzo" Cabadath didn't leave instantly, his hunched shadow glimpsed in headlights.

[whimsicalforestentity]

Hadrian Evans

[artbyange1]

We need more Tomarry in the world. Especially the kind that involves Tom sucking Harry’s soul (maybe other parts too?)

[childotkw]

uhmmmm....a question...Tom is a red flag, right? 🤐 i think he’s the kind of guy who’d always get involved when Hadrian goes out with friends. Or like, if hadrian wore something really attractive, he’d be the type to say "you can only wear that when you’re with me"... you know, that kinda "he’s mine and I can both control and LOVE him" vibe. Though honestly, since Hadrian’s more of a do-his-own-thing kind of person, i feel like they’d have problems because of that. But still Hadrian would DEFINITELY be into it.

Every iteration of Tom Riddle is a red flag, my dear 😌

But specific to CS - Riddle knows that being a controlling dickhead towards Hadrian will just make him angry and have him pulling away. He's very, very aware that he need to keep his possessiveness on a tight leash unless he wants Hadrian fighting him every step of the way.