#I’ve dug two graves for us my dear | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ohthewh0rror · 6 months

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ETERNALLY YOURS.

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — The follow up to ‘I’ve Dug Two Graves For Us, My Dear.’ Now that your marriage has been irreparably damaged, where do the two of you go from here?

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Word count: 2k

A/N: I changed my mind after writing a completely different ending. At first I wanted to make it angst-filled and unhappy but I keep writing sad stuff, and you guys deserve a break. Thank you to my best friend Madie for proof-reading/editing this once again and to @brooklynscherry-z for helping me get a better understanding of Tom & Mattheo’s lore. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this (much shorter) continuation to ‘I’ve Dug Two Graves For Us, My Dear”!

“A letter arrived for you this morning, Y/N,” came the soft voice of your great aunt Delia, her wrinkled hand holding the letter out for you. For a second you were confused, unsure of who would have sent you a letter, especially at such an early hour, until it dawned on you.

Your husband.

A pang of hurt hit your heart at the thought of him. It had been two months since you had seen or spoken to him and though you hated him, another, smaller, part of you missed him terribly. He had been your first love and dearest friend, and his infidelity wasn’t enough to completely erase the love you’ve held for him since the two of you were only seventeen.

As you held the letter in your hands you contemplated not opening it, to instead toss it in the trash and forget it ever arrived. You eyed the entrance to the kitchens, the trash was right through that door, you could throw it away and leave the contents of the letter a mystery. But, as you turned the letter over in your hands, you felt curiosity eating at the back of your mind, beckoning you to open the letter and dissect its contents.

‘Well…it couldn’t hurt,’ you thought, gently unfolding the parchment. As your eyes skimmed over the opening of the letter, you soon realized this was not a letter you should read in the company of others. Folding the letter back up, you looked at your aunt, asking “may I be excused?”

Her eyes darted between the parchment and your eyes, and she looked as if she wanted to ask you something but she waved you off instead, wordlessly telling you that you may take your leave.

You gave her a nod of gratitude before heading to the room you were staying in, trying your hardest to seem normal. Once you entered your room, you made sure to lock the doors and cast a silencing charm for good measure. You did not want your aunt to hear you in the event that you became upset.

Sitting at the desk in the corner of your room, you unfolded the letter and began to read it once again.

Dear Y/N,

I hope this letter finds you well. It has been two months since I have seen or spoken to you, and I must admit that I miss you more than I thought myself capable of. I understand that what I did was unforgivable in your eyes, but I hope by telling you everything it will help you process what is going on so we may move forward from this.

A year ago I approached Bellatrix with the proposition of conceiving and carrying my heir. I explained I did this out of a need to produce an heir and you had not been able to get pregnant yourself. Once she had the child, the child would be ours to raise, she was merely going to be a surrogate of sorts; she understood and agreed to the terms and from there we began the affair.

She finally fell pregnant 6 months ago with a boy. While I should've told you about my plans before approaching her, I most definitely should have told you once she was with child. I am sincerely sorry that you found out the way you did. I wish I could have told you myself, under better circumstances.

Please consider coming back home so that we may be a proper family.

Eternally yours, Tom

You felt a few tears slip out and drip from your eyes onto the parchment, smearing the ink that stained the page with its terrible words. Oh how you wish he hadn’t written to you. His answers did not bring any form of acceptance of his actions, only further heartbreak. It was hard for you to comprehend how he could have sex with her and then return home to you as if all was normal.

“Reducio,” you muttered, shrinking the letter. You carefully folded it, being sure not to rip it, before you got out of your seat and made your way to your closet. On the top shelf, in the furthest corner, sat an intricately carved wooden box with flowers lining the top and sides. The initials M.R sat right above the lock. You conjured a small stepping stool, but even with the stool you were still unable to reach it, leaving yourself to blindly swipe your hand across the shelf till you finally felt your fingers bump the edge.

With what you were looking for finally in your grasp, you got off the stool and went back to your desk. You sat down again, reaching towards one of the desk drawers, and pulling it open to retrieve the small key for the box. As soon as the lock clicked, you opened the top, revealing an empty interior.

The box was made to hold important milestone objects and keepsakes for your son. You planned to fill it with your own letters and pictures so that you could look back on it when he is older and no longer needs you, to remind yourself of simpler times. You hadn’t planned on putting anything related to Tom in there. The thought of him was far too painful, and you didn’t want to taint the little bits of happiness within.

Taking the shrunken letter you placed it in the box before sliding off your wedding ring and putting it on top of the letter. As you closed the box once again, you felt as if you were also closing the metaphorical lid on your marriage. You wouldn’t grace Tom with your presence, a simple letter would have to suffice as you decided you were going to effectively cut him out of your life.

Dear Tom,

I will keep this letter simple and to the point. I appreciate your honesty and your willingness to take some form of accountability for your actions, as I know it’s not something that comes easy to you. But, I will not be returning home nor will we be playing at being a happy family. If you want to be a family as badly as you say, then leave our marriage intact but let us live separate lives. Don’t worry, I do not plan to date or remarry, for you are my first and final love.

That all being said, do not contact me again unless it is with divorce proceedings.

P.s. congratulations on the heir you always wanted.

Sincerely, Y/N

Putting your quill down, you read over the letter one more time to be sure this was what you wanted your final words to him to be. Satisfied with what you wrote, you got out of your chair once again and left the room, heading towards the back garden where you knew the owl belonging to your aunt would be.

Walking into the small building that housed her owl you saw the bird, Chipp, still here and not away delivering mail for your aunt. You gave Chipp a few treats as a thank you for going out in the cold for delivering this letter for you before holding the letter out for the owl to take. Chipp happily took the parchment and flew off to take the letter to its recipient.

That was the last time you spoke to Tom. As the months turned to years, Tom became a distant, painful memory.

11 years later

“Mattheo! Wait up!” You called out to your son, as he excitedly ran ahead of you. You were winded trying to keep up with him, trying hard not to lose him in the crowd of teary-eyed mothers and nervous children. When you finally caught up to him, you grabbed him by the shoulder, halting him. “I understand you’re excited, but will you try not to run off,” you were panting slightly, “I would at least like to tell you goodbye.”

Mattheo looked exasperated, trying already to seem too cool to tell his mother bye. “But mum—” he started, trying to justify his running off. “No buts; now, let me see you,” you said, motioning him to turn around. He groaned, turning around to face you. You held him by his arms in front of you, “listen, and actually listen to me for once; listen to your professors and don’t cause trouble, I know how—” you paused mid sentence when something out of the corner of your eye caught your attention.

It was your husband.

Your husband, who you hadn’t seen in 11 years, with a young boy standing beside him. The two of you locked eyes and you felt a wave of discomfort hit you. How could you have been so stupid? Of course he would be here, his son and Mattheo are close in age, they’d obviously go to school together.

You decided to skip the speech and quickly walk further up the platform, trying to put more room between you and Tom. You didn’t want Tom to approach you and attempt to talk to you or your son. Mattheo didn’t need to go through such a confusing altercation on such an important day. This day was only about him and you wanted it to be special.

Once you put a satisfying amount of room between the two of you, you stopped and your son decided to ask why that man was staring at you. Waving him off, you explained, “he’s just someone I used to know, that’s all.” Mattheo looked like he had more questions, but you didn’t give him the chance to ask them. Instead, you gave him a parting kiss on the forehead and told him goodbye before all but pushing him onto the train.

You backed away and watched Mattheo walk further into the train before he finally disappeared from sight. You felt your eyes well up with tears at the reality of your son leaving for Hogwarts, giving you definitive proof of how old he was getting. It made you wish you possessed a time turner, just so you could go back to the beginning and do it all over again.

As you shuffled back toward the exit, you were lost in thought over how Mattheo would do at Hogwarts. What house would he be in? Would he make friends? How would he do academically? You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t noticed someone closing in on you until it was too late.

You felt a hand wrap around your bicep and pull you back slightly causing you to stumble into their chest. You whipped around, about to give the owner of the offending hand a piece of your mind when you saw who was touching you.

Tom looked at you, and though his face remained neutral, you swear you saw a glint of hurt in his eyes. He released your arm only to place a hand on the small of your back, “walk with me, Y/N?”

You hesitated for a second before giving him a small nod and walking with him back towards the entrance to platform 9 ¾. There was a moment of tense, awkward silence before he spoke.

“What is his name?” Tom asked. You thought about whether you wanted to tell him or not, as you knew where this conversation was headed.

“Mattheo,” was all you said. Not giving away his full name, as you weren’t ready to admit you’d given him Tom’s last name.

Tom went silent again and you looked up to see him deep in thought. Not wanting to make the situation any more uncomfortable by just staring at him, you looked away, waiting for him to speak once again. Though, once he spoke, you wish he had kept the awkward silence between you two.

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

Taglist: @the-sweet-psycho @mypolicemanharryyy @jessysfangirlworld @homan-oid @motherofdragons1998 @theeslutintheroom @pasta01 @lovefks @mwahbella @storminacloud @brooklynscherry-z @eri-s-big-sis @eversei @tomhollandisabae @rlblackbarbie @cyphah @cookielovesbook-akie

#tom riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #take it #I’m going to bed

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incorrect-nevermore · 1 year

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White Raven truly does have EVERYTHING

Red/blue. Always Warm/Always cold. Romeo/Juliet. Fire Association/Water Association. Hight differences. Flower symbolism. Fake rivals. Academic rivals. The one that got away. It was meant to be. It wasn’t meant to be. Doomed romance. You brought me back to life. You were the death of me. I’ve dug two graves for us my dear. Does whatever the fuck they want/plans everything. I’ll take care of you/Its rotten work. Betrayal and forgiveness. You never cared for me/You were all I ever cared about. authentically themselves/wears a mask all the time. Bad influence/Golden child. Looks intimidating but is a sweetheart/looks sweet and welcoming but will stab you. Secret romance.

WHAT ELSE COULD YOU WANT??

#WHITE RAVEN MY BELOVED #nevermore webtoon #lenore nevermore #annabel lee nevermore #annabel lee x lenore #white raven

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eateth-thy-words · 1 year

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I've dug two graves for us, my dear Can't pretend that I was perfect, leavin' you in fear

theres no way either of them went out alone

#raph and cass are BEST FRIENDS and i will hear NOTHING ELSE #love them SO MUCH #gore #tw gore #cw gore #blood #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt raph #future raph #rottmnt apocolypse #future rottmnt #future cass #casey jones #cassandra jones #raphael tmnt #tmnt #my art

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sizdka · 9 months

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“I’ve dug two graves for us my dear~”

Also Doodles just cuz

#clone high #clone high art #clone high fanart #digital art #fanart #clone high fandom #clone high reboot #clone high season 2 #clone high season two #clone high topher bus #clone high christopher columbus #clone high ivan the terrible #clone high artwork #clone high doodles #doodles #sketches #Tophvan #topher bus x ivan the terrible #Ivan the terrible x topher bus

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strzh88 · 2 years

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i've dug two graves for us, my dear can't pretend that i was perfect leavin' you in fear

#persona 5 #shuake #goro akechi #akechi x ren #akira kusuru #p5 protagonist #akeshu #p5 akechi #akechi x akira #ren amamiya

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lapetitechatonne · 2 years

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Day Four: There’s something off about them. . .

okay, so if you thought the other day was a stretch, this one most certainly is. It was originally my idea for Mistaken Identity, but i had to switch it around some. the idea is original from this post by @hidden-under-lock-and-key. it’s a nice break from the angst i’ve been posting. enjoy!!! <3

ao3 link!

Kate’s Masterlist here!

When in doubt: Manslaughter fixes everything - 2.1k words

In life, sometimes you here confronted with two options. The longer, hard road of being truthful with those around you and dealing with the consequence of your actions.

Or gaslight, gatekeep, and girlboss.

As Danny stared at the heroes that cornered him in the alley behind Nasty Burger, he was feeling like the former.

“It’s okay son,” fucking Superman stepped forward trying to make himself look as soft as the man of steel could, “we understand the need for a secret identity.”

Danny suppressed a snort. Right. That’s why they were cornering him behind a fast-food joint at eight pm. Real subtle.

“That’s um, great sir,” Danny had no idea where this sentence was going, “but umm. . . yeah, Phantom’s not a meta-human. He’s a ghost,” gaslight it was, he guessed, “and as you can see, I’m not dead. So . . .”

Danny just shrugged. He was used to Wes Weston running his mouth, but this was a whole other ball game. People would actually believe the Justice League if they decided to go public.

But he’d already dug his grave—hehe good one—he might as well keep digging.

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” the Flash rolled his eyes and gave him a very disappointed look. If he wasn’t very used to them by now, it might have done something.

“Yeah,” Danny smirked looking the Flash dead in the eyes, “prove it.”

“This isn’t a game,” Batman growled and stepped closer to him, obviously in an attempt to intimidate him.

“No, it’s not,” Danny frowned crossing his arms, “this is my life. Not yours, mine. And you’re endangering it just by throwing around accusations like this.”

Judging from the looks on their faces they didn’t understand the weight of the accusations they were placing on him. Great. Just great.

“Metas and aliens are protected,” Superman started, but Danny just shook his head.

“Anyone or anything contaminated with ectoplasm—like Phantom, the dead guy—isn’t considered a sentient being under the Anti-Ecto acts,” they all looked at him with varying degrees of confusion. Dear ancients, they actually didn’t know, “Look it up. Anyways, I’m late for dinner with my friends so I’m just gonna. . .”

Danny gestured over his shoulder and slipped out of the alley, leaving the heroes in various degrees of confusion and concern.

Whatever. Not his problem.

---

Turns out it was, indeed, his problem.

The stared, dead-eyed at the three heroes on his doorstep contemplating all his life decisions. Because what deity did he piss off to deserve this?

“May we come in?” Superman asked.

Probably Clockwork. This would be his idea of a joke.

Danny sighed and stepped aside. Better to let them in than have the whole neighborhood see them.

He glared at the heroes as they filed in, the Flash and Superman looking uncomfortable while Batman simply stared in silence. Danny gave the door a good slam and walked back into the kitchen. Just because they were there didn’t mean he had to play nice.

“Who was that dear?” his mom looked up from her tablet as he entered the room.

He didn’t answer. He just grabbed his coffee and glared at the heroes standing awkwardly in the kitchen archway.

“Um, hi ma’am,” Superman said, tentatively taking a step into the room like she was going to hit him with a wooden spoon or something, “we came to talk about your son’s, um. Extracurriculars.”

His mom just frowned, setting the tablet down on the table in front of her, “Danny isn’t in any extracurriculars.”

Danny snorted into his coffee. This was going real smooth.

“Well, not really extracurriculars,” the Flash flashed—ha—a smile at her, “the other things he does. Outside of school. Ya know?”

His mom stood up from the table and walked in front of him, blocking the heroes' paths to him, “No, I do not know. What exactly are you accusing my son of? He’s a good boy, granted he doesn’t get out much—”

“Mom!” Danny could feel his face turn red.

“Well honey, it’s true. Anyways, he’s a good, upstanding citizen. Certainly, he’d done nothing to require this response.” His mom placed her hands on her hips and Danny fought the urge to actually cackle.

Tucker and Sam would never believe him.

“Ma’am,” Batman stepped forward from his place behind his colleagues, “we’re here because your son is Phantom, and—”

Whatever batman was going to say was completely lost in his mother's very loud and colorful disapproval.

“Excuse you!” she pointed in Batman’s face, “You do not get to come into my home and accuse my baby boy of being that—that menace! You are severally mistaken, and you can see my some is alive and well, thank you very much.”

He watched over his mom’s shoulder as she quickly pushed them out the door, ignoring the Flash's protests.

“But there’s something off about him!”

“Never,” she grabbed the Flash by the front of his suit, and for a second Danny thought she was actually going to deck him, “talk about my son like that again. Or I will make you regret ever setting foot in Amity.”

She slammed the door in their faces and Danny just grinned.

“I’m so sorry you had to hear all that sweetie,” she walked over to him and kissed the top of his head, “You know I love you. I’d love you even if you were a ghost.”

He smiled at her. He knew.

But this just made things easier.

“I know mom. I really thought you were gonna punch him for a minute there.”

She smirked at him and ruffled his hair, “Don’t be silly, I would have gone for the legs.”

Gods he loved his mom.

---

Danny flinched as the cold night air rushed over his skin. Ugh. Fucking Illinois and its fucking weather. It was seventy earlier, there was no reason for it to be so cold now.

Whatever.

Danny lugged the heavy trash bag out to the dumpster in the alley behind their house. He let the lid clatter down, taking a moment to catch his breath. It was a nice night if those fucking losers weren’t around he’d go for a short flight—

Batman clattered down on the lid of the trashcan, sending Danny flinching back into the rough brick wall.

“Jesus fuck dude! What the hell!” Danny yelled trying to catch his breath.

Batman jumped down onto the concrete in front of him, using his height to loom over Danny.

“We need to talk,” he growled.

“No, actually, we don’t,” Danny huffed, trying to push past him.

Batman caught his arm and twisted it behind his back and—ouch!

“What the fuck! Let go of me!” Danny struggled as much as he could without being suspicious but Batman knew what he was doing and Danny had the arms of a toothpick.

“Not until you answer my question,” Batman growled in his ear.

“Frist of all, get a fucking breath mint,” Danny snarked, call it a defense mechanism, “and second of all, it’s this against the law? You can’t just torture me like this is some bad cop movie.”

Batman threw him around so his back hit the brick wall again, and before he would move his forearm was pressed against Danny’s neck.

“I know you’re Phantom. You know it,” his voice lowered, and honestly, it was terrifying, “you’re either an asset or a liability Phantom.”

Danny gasped for breath, wiggling under Batman’s tight hold. Gods, how much did this man weigh?

“Danny!”

They both turned to see Jazz standing at the mouth of the alley, phone in hand.

“I’d like to report an assault,” she spoke into the phone, looking increasingly worried.

Batman growled and was gone as quickly as he came. Danny felt his legs buckle underneath him as Jazz rushed to his side, still on the phone with the nine-one-one operator.

This just kept getting better and better, he thought humorlessly.

---

Clark watched Bruce glare at the tv, making a displeased grunt under his breath.

“The victim's name will not be released, as it was a minor, but that still begs the question: what was Batman doing assaulting a high school? This has been Harriet Chen—”

Clark clicked off the tv, there was no point in watching. He couldn’t believe there were cameras that Bruce couldn’t find—Bruce was even less happy about it. Barry hadn’t even dared ask him if he wanted a donut this morning.

He sighed, sitting down on the motel bed. He just stared at Bruce, who stared at the blank tv.

Riveting.

Clark wasn’t sure exactly how long they sat there before Bruce’s phone lit up.

“Speak,” he said in probably the most unfriendly tone known to man. That was okay, they knew he was working on his people skills.

Slowly. Very, very slowly.

“I found Phantom,” Clark meet Bruce’s eyes as Barry rattled off the location.

They’d get him this time

---

Danny watched as the heroes tried to hide in the bushes to his left. But that was kind of hard to do in bright red.

He just rolled his eyes and continued playing fetch with Cujo. Maybe if he just continued to ignore them they’d go away.

About twenty minutes later when Cujo got tired of fetch and decided he wanted to dig around in the dirt was when they made their move.

“Cute dog,” the Flash leaned against a tree, watching the hole three times Cujo’s size get larger and larger, “he yours?”

“Nope,” Danny popped his ‘p,’ casually floating into a laying position, “Cujo’s his own dog. He just likes me is all.”

They were silent for a few more minutes, long enough for Cujo to get started on another hole.

“You,” a deep growl was the only warning Danny got before Batman jumped on him. Luckily that warning was enough for him to go intangible and for Batman to seamlessly go through him.

Batman stood looking almost disgruntled as Danny continued to float. Danny raised his eyebrows at the man as he growled at him.

“You know, it’s rude to jump through people,” Danny told him flatly.

“Give it up kid,” Superman sighed as he landed next to his boy band, “we know it’s you. Please.”

Superman and the Flash shot him almost desperate looks. Huh.

Well, he was too deep now.

“I usually don’t have fans so old,” Danny smirked a little and Batman growled again, “but if you want an autograph or something—”

The words froze in Danny’s throat as Batman pulled up his holograph wrist computer—which was so fucking cool—and opened two pictures. One of Fenton and one of Phantom.

Uh oh.

He didn’t know if he could mansplain, manipulate, malewife himself out of this one.

“Your faces are a 99.8% match,” Batman smirked as much as a stoic rock could, and Danny just couldn’t let him have the last word. He just couldn’t.

Manslaughter it was.

“Right, right, that’s really dope and all,” Danny let himself float till he was eye height with Batman, “but like, also rude as hell.” He crossed his arms and stared down the heroes, letting his eyes burn brighter. “That kid is a fucking nerd for one thing. And also, I’m dead. Like, dead dead.”

The heroes just stared at him like they didn’t believe a word he was saying. Fine. Time to take it up a notch.

“Like, I would honestly love to be that kid, because at least he’s alive, even if he’s a fucking dweeb,” Jazz would be so mad if she heard all this negative self-talk, but it was for the bit, “What do you want from me? My death certificate? My fucking bones?” He let his form grow brighter and the ends of his hair flicker into flames. “Or would you like to hear in excruciating detail how I was frozen alive in an avalanche?”

He raised an eyebrow at the heroes and they backed off. The Flash looked a little woozy at the idea while Batman went back to his neutral state.

“We didn’t mean to—” Superman started but Danny didn’t let him finish. Time for the big finale.

“Didn’t mean to what? Huh? Stick your nose in shit that you know nothing about?” Danny shook his head and tried his best to imitate Jazz’s ‘I’m just disappointed’ look, “And here I would have thought that heroes would know how dangerous it is to insinuate innocent civilians are super-powered. You should be ashamed.”

“We—” Danny interrupted whatever the flash was going to say for dramatic effect.

“Ashamed! Cujo has more manners than you.” He picked up Cujo’s wiggling, dirt-covered form and glared at the heroes one last time. “I am rolling in my grave. I hope you know that.”

Danny flew off, Cujo licking his face as he smirked. Once they got far enough away he looked down at the dog, “Pretty good, huh?”

Cujo just barked and licked his nose. Hopefully that would be the last he saw of the Justice League.

Manslaughter always worked.

#no actual manslaughter in this fic lol #just a play on words #just Danny gaslighting the JL #he said 'I'm not dealing with this' and stuck to it #crack #crack treated seriously #Danny being a dramatic bitch #Danny Phantom #dcxdp #dp/dc week 2022

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javatello · 1 year

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I’ve dug two graves for us my dear.

#scourge #warriors #warrior cats #scourge warriors #bloodclan

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devoted-assassin · 1 year

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My favourite dynamics are “hand in unlovable hand” and/or “I’ve dug two graves for us, my dear.”

#not even necessarily romantic #doomed romance #killing eve #hannibal #yellowjackets #madoka magica #villains #danganronpa #if we were villains #these things also have being gay in common

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ohthewh0rror · 6 months

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I’VE DUG TWO GRAVES FOR US, MY DEAR.

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — “Can I request Tom riddle x (fem!) reader angst? Basically, they have been trying for a long time to have children, but haven’t succeeded. So, to have an heir, Tom gets Bellatrix pregnant and obviously hasn’t told reader. Reader finds out shes pregnant and goes to tell Tom and show him the pregnancy test, but right outside his study she hears him ask Bellatrix „how is my heir doing? Is my child healthy?“ and reader drops the test in front of his study, where Tom finds it later, and leaves.”

Part 2

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Word count: 3.6K

A/N: “but baaaabe, she doesn’t even mean anything to me” and for him he MEANS it, that’s the worst part. Oh god I’m going to be sick. I headcanon him as loyal and now he’s out here embarrassing me. Anyway, thank you to my best friend Madie for helping me choose the right ending for this and for proof-reading for me. To the requester: I didn’t take the suicide route bc that’s a very sensitive topic that I have personal ties to. But yeah, if anyone wants it I’m 100% down to write a part 2 to this.🖤🖤

You felt wrong.

Well, not exactly you, just something felt wrong. You felt on edge, tense, like you were just waiting for the galleon to drop. There was no explanation for the way you were feeling, at least not one you could think of. But you couldn’t help but feel on edge, your mind racing as you resisted the urge to continuously look over your shoulder throughout the day.

You had hoped that the feeling would be gone by the end of the day, but as you sat with Tom having dinner the feeling was still there. You wanted to hide it from him, but you just knew he could see the slight shake of your hand as you poked mindlessly with your fork at the food in front of you. Though, either out of courtesy to you or him just not wanting to deal with it at the moment, he didn’t ask.

No, it wouldn’t be until the two of you had gotten into bed for the night that he would.

As you settled into bed, you felt Tom’s arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close. While you would normally welcome this, as it was rare that Tom would hold you in such a way, the unusual action added to your sense of unease. You felt his lips press a kiss just behind your ear before he asked, “there’s something bothering you, what is it?”

You didn’t know how to tell him, or if you even wanted to tell him. You didn’t want Tom to think negatively of you, to think you were officially losing it, but a part of you knew Tom wasn’t going to drop it. What Tom wanted, Tom got, one way or another. So, reluctantly, you told him.

“I’m not sure, I just don’t feel right, not in a sick way but—,” you paused, mentally kicking yourself for admitting it out loud, “I feel as if something bad is about to happen, something very bad.” Tom said nothing, but you could feel his hold on you tighten just a fraction. There was a few seconds of silence before Tom finally spoke again, “I see, I’m sure you are alright, you probably just need to rest.”

You know this was his way of comforting you, but it did nothing to help how you felt. You tried taking his words to heart though, and forced yourself to relax, attempting to get some sleep.

6:23 am.

You stared at the ticking hands of the clock on the wall, watching them dutifully count the time, hoping the dullness of it all would help you fall back asleep. It did nothing to help you, though, and instead just aided in helping your mind wander. You went through every possibility, until you were left with two options.

Tom was up to something… or you were pregnant. You didn’t want to think of the first option, it was a thought that left you upset even considering, but he had been distant for the past 4 months. He did not treat you any different, but he seemed… distracted. Where he once did not mind if you opened his letters for him, he now tightly guarded them. You tried asking him why, but he said it was to protect you if things went bad. He attempted to explain your worries away, saying he did not want you implicated in anything he was up to.

Not to mention he was out the house more— Death Eater business, he tells you. Always that. It almost made you angry how much time he spent working towards his grand scheme when all you wanted was just some of his time. At first you tried to push back on it, but soon realized it did nothing to sway him. Tom did what he wanted, regardless of the feelings of others.

Despite all this you refuse to accept Tom may be up to something behind your back. He was your husband, and he loved you, even if he did not express it often. So that left you with one conclusion: you’re pregnant.

It was a possibility that had been hanging in the back of your mind, but not one you wanted to genuinely entertain. After years of trying and it being false alarms have left you with nothing but negative feelings towards the process of finding out. You did not want to get your hopes up once again, as each negative was becoming more and more unbearable.

You couldn’t just rule it out without taking a test though, so you had no choice but to do so. Not wanting to go to a healer and have them check on you magically, you decided to instead go about it the muggle way. You had heard during your younger years, while at Hogwarts, that muggle women had measures of finding out on their own in the comfort of their own bathroom. So that’s what you set off to do, after getting dressed of course.

Entering muggle London, it was hard not to stick out. While you tried to dress as casual as you possibly could, you knew there was still something off about how you dressed. No one seemed to mind though, letting you walk through the busy streets without much more than a double take. It didn’t take long for you to find what looked like a small store, you hoped to Merlin that they had what you needed.

As you walked around the small shop, you realized what you were doing was beyond ridiculous. You were truly out of your league as you browsed the aisles looking for what you needed. You were beginning to get frustrated when you heard a feminine voice from the left, “excuse me, miss, can I help you find something?”

You paused, stopping midstep, turning your head to look at who was speaking to you.

The girl, who couldn’t have been any older than 19, seemed to be a shop attendant. She had on what you could only guess was typical muggle attire, and a vest with the name of the shop on it. You nodded, “yes, I need the test that will tell me if I’m pregnant or not.”

The shop girl gave you a look, and you began to worry more that you were sticking out far too much. “You mean a pregnancy test?” She asked. “Yes, that,” you replied, hoping she would just show you where it was and stop talking to you. Thankfully she seemed to have read your mind, gesturing you to follow her. She took you to the aisle furthest back in the store, pointing out the shelf that was filled with a dozen different options. You thanked her, and she left you alone with all the different tests.

Looking over them all you picked the one you thought would be best, but as you held the test you had a revelation, ‘I have no muggle money’. You froze, now weighing your options. You could leave and convert the money, coming back at a later time, or you could just…take it. Leaving was the morally correct choice, but just taking it was the more tempting one as it would save you the trouble of explaining to Tom why you needed muggle money if word got back to him.

So, looking around and making sure no eyes were on you, you silently cast a spell, hiding the box from any prying eyes. As you walked out the store you couldn’t believe what you had done. Stealing? From a muggle establishment? How scandalous! As you walked down the street you shook your head, banishing the thought from your mind. You didn’t have time to worry about the ethics of stealing from muggles. You needed to know if you were pregnant.

Thankfully, it was a little easier to find a place to use the restroom. You sat on the toilet, reading the box, and the instructions seemed easy enough. You followed them exactly before capping the test, holding it in a way where the results faced away from you. You didn’t want to see the results, too scared of it being negative once again. After what you considered an appropriate amount of time, you flipped the test over.

Positive.

‘It’s wrong, it has to be,’ you thought to yourself as you eyed the muggle pregnancy test. The test was wrong, it’s a defective muggle device. You’d make an appointment with the healer as soon as possible until you could confirm it for sure and you’d keep it a secret from Tom until then. You didn’t want to tell him, only for it to be a false positive and get his hopes up fruitlessly.

So, you wrapped the test tightly and tossed it in the bin. Washing your hands, you made your way out of the muggle establishment, and to an empty corner before apparating to the edge of yours and Tom’s property. You stood there for a moment, taking in the site of your shared home, wishing you had some calming draught on hand.

You knew as soon as Tom saw you he’d know something was wrong. Tom had always said you weren’t a very good liar, and you knew with the state you were in right now that if he tried to pry your secret would come tumbling out before you had the chance to stop it.

You couldn’t stand out here all day though, the November air was more than chilly, and you were going to freeze if you didn’t go in soon. You took a steadying breath and walked forward with your head held high, taking your time to get to the doors, attempting to look casual. You were halfway up the set of stone stairs leading up to the front doors, when they began to open. For a split second you felt yourself panic on the inside, thinking maybe it was Tom who came to greet you, until your house elf Poppy came into view.

“Welcome back, madam,” the little elf said, ushering you in.

“Hello, Poppy,” you said. You had never been happier to see a house elf in your life. As Poppy shut the doors behind you, and she ushered you to the dining room, she informed you that Tom had already left for the day, leaving you to have breakfast alone. Normally that would have left you disappointed, you and Tom made sure to always eat breakfast and dinner together, and this would be the first time in a long time that you ate alone. But, after the morning you had, you relished in the absence of conversation.

“Poppy, please make an appointment for me with a healer,” you asked, sitting down at the dining table. Poppy nodded wordlessly before leaving you to go make the appointment.

It was a week later that you found yourself sitting in a sterile room, awaiting the results. You wanted so desperately for it to be true. You’d never recover if you found out the test had lied. Tom still didn’t know about the possibility of your pregnancy, but then again, it wasn’t hard to hide it from him with how busy he’d been this past week. And seeing as your mind was preoccupied, you hadn’t pushed on what had him so busy.

Just as your mind began to drift from boy names, to more feminine names, the door to your right clicked open. The healer gave you a bright smile, greeting you. The forced politeness left a bad taste in your mouth as you just wished for the results so you could get home. You gave a tight-lipped smile back, and a similar greeting. The healer stopped in front of you, flipping one of the papers up, quickly reading its contents before looking at you once again.

“Well, Mrs. Riddle, it seems you certainly are pregnant!” He congratulates you, before explaining how far along you seem to be and that he needs you back in a month. You’re still in a daze when he hands you the paperwork, telling you your diagnosis and other information regarding your pregnancy. It feels too good to be true, and you’re not sure if you should laugh, cry, or do both as you leave the office.

You’re pregnant. You’re actually pregnant. You walk down a secluded alley, casting the muffliato charm as you buried your head in your hard, a soft cry erupting from you. You both had tried so hard for so long and it’s finally happening, you are finally having the child you both wanted. You let yourself cry from the overwhelming feeling of happiness for a moment longer before collecting yourself. You needed to tell Tom, you knew this was just the news he needed.

Tom was working from home today, something you had never been so happy about before today. It made the process of talking to him much easier than if he left to Merlin-knows-where to do what he needed. But, as you walked up those stairs to the hallway that his office was down you felt your heart plummet.

Tom was here, but so was another woman.

You quieted your steps, hoping to figure out who the woman was and what they were talking about. It was difficult as the door was mostly shut and they were talking in hushed tones. But, as you stepped off the stairs and into the hallway you recognized the voice of the woman immediately.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

A woman that you held more than just disdain for. She is the only female Death Eater Tom has recruited, and not only that, she was his second in command. While Tom didn’t see any of his Death Eaters as true equals, even you knew he seemed to favor her over the rest of them. Bellatrix seemed to revel in this fact, and despite being married herself, her loyalty seemed to lay more with your husband than her own. She did whatever Tom asked, no matter what it may be, without even a hint of resistance. You truly believe if Tom asked her to kill herself, she would do it without hesitation.

As you walked closer to the door they seemed to have stopped talking, but before you could knock and let yourself be known, you heard something that knocked the breath out of your lungs.

“You had a check-up last week, did you not? How is my heir?” Tom sounded casual, as if he was asking Bellatrix about the weather. His heir? His heir? Your mind was sent reeling as you began to hyperventilate. You quietly backed away from the door, walking as silently but also as quickly as you could away. But, as you turned to leave you nearly tripped over your own two feet, the papers you were holding falling to the ground. In your distress you left them, not being bothered to pick them up, as you caught yourself and hurried down the hallway intent on putting space between yourself and the cracked office door.

You found yourself in a guest room on the other side of the house, away from Tom and Bellatrix, away from the source of your heartbreak. You sit on the edge of the bed, and cast the muffliato charm for the second time today. After you cast the spell, you finally let yourself feel completely. Your heart shatters into tiny crystallized bits, the shards of it dig into every crevice of your sternum, leaving you clutching at your chest as it pierces your lungs and esophagus. Your chest and throat have an indescribable ache as a piercing wail leaves you, the pain of his betrayal leaving you feeling something beyond devastation.

The knowledge that he cheated on you was painful enough, but the fact that it was Bellatrix made it all the more painful. He knew how you felt toward their dynamic and his trust in her. It was as if he chose her on purpose, to tell her that Bellatrix is a more suitable partner for him.

How Bellatrix was everything she wasn’t: unwaveringly devoted to him, believed in his pureblood ideology, and stood by him on it. Bellatrix could also give him children, and she couldn’t.

Or so he thought. He didn’t know she was pregnant yet. Maybe that was for the best, you considered, as you sat in that empty room, fingers wringing together painfully as you tried to calm yourself. As you attempted to gather yourself, knocking on the door began to reverberate throughout the room, causing a panic inside you. You cleared your throat, and took in a breath, hoping to gather yourself before addressing who was on the other side. Lifting your wand you released the muffling charm, “come in.”

Your voice still wobbled as the words left you, leaving you mentally kicking yourself. The door opened, revealing Tom, on the other side. As he took in the sight of you, sniffling and teary-eyed, he walked in completely, softly shutting the door behind him. Looking at him sent a surge of anguish through you, a new wave of tears gathering in your eyes. The vision of Tom doubled as your lips began to wobble as you held back your tears. You were unable to see the look on Tom’s face as you looked away, trying to calm yourself once again, so you weren’t quite sure what he was thinking.

Getting on one knee before you, Tom placed his left hand on your knee as his right reached up, wiping at your tear streaked face. You let out a shuddering breath, finally looking at him. Tom’s face was the most expressive you’d ever seen it, if you hadn’t been in such a miserable state you would have taken a moment to admire it.

There was a look of genuine worry on his face as the both of you looked at each other. The silence was suffocating, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be the one to break it. There was nothing you wanted to say to him, you could hardly bear to look at him, much less talk to him.

“Why are you upset, darling? This is wonderful news” Tom sounded sympathetic in his attempt to comfort you. You let out a laugh in disbelief, you could not believe the words coming out of his mouth. “Wonderful news? In what world is this ‘wonderful news’?” You were close to yelling by the time you finished talking, feeling your sadness morph into something far uglier: anger. Tom at least had the decency to look taken aback, seeming to not expect the response he received.

Tom’s eyes searched yours for a moment before his expression became guarded, he gave your hand a squeeze before standing up, “it seems we are talking about two different things.”

You said nothing, there was nothing you could say that he hadn’t just deduced for himself, and it seemed he knew that too as he continued speaking.

“Y/N, you have to understand, I needed to ensure I had an heir and we hadn’t been successful in getting you pregnant,” Tom tried to explain. You’re sure in his head that this was logical, just the rational choice to get around your fertility issues. But to you, this was anything but the best next step. There was no reasoning good enough to make this okay; it will never be okay. This is a wound that may scar over, but will always ache when brushed against.

“You had an affair with a woman who I already voiced my concern about, without even consulting me on your decision, and expect me to understand?” You asked, incredulously. Tom, though looking mildly annoyed, still had the decency to also seem a touch guilty. “I didn’t step out of our marriage for pleasure or some sort of validation, you've always been the only one for me, it was merely to—” you decide to cut him off. “Produce an heir,” was all you said, finishing his sentence for him.

A heavy silence hung in the air, what you said leaving a palpable bitterness in the air. Tom still had the same touch of guilt in his eyes, but it wasn't enough. The guilt wasn’t strong enough to let him take full accountability for how wrong he was. Tom reached out, his hands cupping the back of your neck as his thumbs grazed your jawline, forcing you to look at him.

“It will be okay, I made a mistake by not telling you my plans, I apologize,” Tom may have sounded sincere, but it wasn’t good enough. Nothing will ever make up for what he has done to not only your relationship, but also to your trust in him. You reached up, and gently removed his hands from your face before standing up yourself, forcing him to take a few steps back.

“No, it’s not going to be okay; it will never be ‘okay’. You didn’t just make a mistake, you ruined our marriage, and for that, Tom, I hate you.”

And you left.

Leaving your husband to stand in that spare room, alone, with only his thoughts to keep him company.

#tom riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #if this flops I’ll cry

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