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Recent bookmarks
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my flat is a temple (and i am the god it was built for) by improbas
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
07 Mar 2026
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Summary
Someone keeps breaking into Tom Riddle’s flat.
Every trap he sets is dismantled with ease. Beside each one, a snarky note.
Somehow it becomes the most entertaining game Tom has played in years. And he would like to know – very badly – just who he’s playing with.
a.k.a. Undersecretary Tom is being stalked in his own home by Master of Death Harry.
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before they convinced you life is war by EclipseWing
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
19 Sep 2023
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Summary
Harry's got the Imperius Curse tripping off his tongue and Tom's suddenly acutely aware of other people's emotions.
[that mutant reincarnation au nobody asked for but I wrote anyway]
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Summary
The one where Tom is a student politician, Harry is a soccer jock, and Dumbledore forces them to co-star in a documentary.
Modern Boarding School AU
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Until there’s nothing left but what I made you by goldenzingy46
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
24 May 2025
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Summary
"They're drugging you. Luna knew. Run."
And Harry did.
But you can only run so far from Tom Riddle, and you can't run from the monster in the dark: Tom's inner demon, Voldemort.
Tom and Harry Potter-Riddle were married in a suburban town, where all the houses were terraced and the exact same shade of white, tidy wooden boarding along the front. The front gardens were bright green lawns, no weeds, of course, and a white picket fence. Each driveway had a single car and two bicycles on it, and Tom and Harry had recently adopted a child called Ginny, who was six.
Harry had three friends, and two supportive parents. His husband was the mayor of Hogsmeade, where Harry had lived all his life, and his life was perfect.
So why was he getting nightmares? Why did his smile flicker and waver? Why did he always say the wrong thing?
Series
- Part 53 of Tomarry Works
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A Prick of the Tongue Upon the Spindle by beetaker
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
04 Feb 2025
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Summary
On the night of Harry's eleventh birthday, she dreams a wonderful dream of sulphur and brimstone, as though she is descending down a spiral staircase in the oven-roasted centre of the earth. The way is dark and treacherous, as there are no handrails with which to steady herself, and no light by which to see. But the air smells warm and heavy, like burying her face in fresh mulch and breathing in life and the smell of sweetly rotting strawberries. And there is something else alongside Harry, some weighty presence following her, looming over her so she will know she is not alone.