#riddle transferred

[doodgiee]

more of my riddle au sketches

[childotkw]

Tom Riddle sending hate poems to Harry (the new transfer Gryffindor student) and Harry is the only one that reads it with the true intention.

Tom words it just so that to the untrained eye (those that can't see through his facade) it looks like really romantic poems.

He hates them.

…and I dream of slipping beneath your skin.

Harry aggressively smacked the parchment down onto the table, and when Hermione swiftly snatched it away for her and Ron to read, he set his glare across the Great Hall to skewer Tom Riddle through his perfectly coifed hair.

The prick didn’t even turn around, though Harry knew he knew that he was staring at him.

Ron let out a whistle, his eyes flicking over the last few lines of the poem - the threat - and then raised an eyebrow. “Well mate, for a slimy Slytherin he’s pretty smooth, ain’t he?”

“Smooth?” Harry hissed, his neck damn near snapping in his haste to look at his friend. “He’s planning to fucking murder me, Ron!”

“Murder? Honestly, Harry,” Hermione sighed, lowering the parchment and running her hand over it to try and erase the crinkles from where Harry had gripped it too tightly. “While it’s a bit…intense, I’ll admit, have you considered that he just really likes you and is struggling to show it?”

“He could show it without sending me thinly veiled,” he grabbed the letter and flapped it subtly at Hermione, “shit like this that says he wants to slit my throat!”

“He’s not going to slit your throat,” Hermione said sharply - though whether that’s at the idea that perfect Tom Riddle would ever kill someone, or the idea of someone hurting Harry, he couldn’t say. “Maybe you should just talk to him? If it makes you uncomfortable then you should say something. Why don’t you speak to him privately and ask him to stop.”

“And give him the chance to shank me with no witnesses? Ha, fuck no.”

“Harry!”

He ignored her admonishment, and the gentle slap she gave his arm, instead focussing on Riddle because the other boy had turned just enough to glance over his shoulder and meet Harry’s burning eyes with a smirk and a wink.

[eelgraveyard]

my piece for a riddle school art exchange!!! apologies if its not that good, i got hit hard with art block + fandom switch ;;

for @brain-empty!!!

@riddletransfers

[shervso]

“shes not trans”

her in rs 1-5:

her post transfer:

i mean come on now its clear as day

[supergirlytreiner]

The Good Ending! (+ some refs for the aliens!)

[smellysocksniff]

[diznumber1fan]

is this fandom even still alive....

diz x viz my beloved , doomed yaoi....

[ginhaku125-offical]

so uhh...anyone remember Riddle School? I reccently watched DanTDM's playthrough as well as play the games myself and decided to do some doodles and redesigns + a few headcanons, but you can tell who my favourite characters are, lmao

(i dont support jonochrome btw i just really like the games)

[virgil-anon]

The forced proximity of the tomarry time travel au >>>>>>>>>

[merakiui]

overblot! Riddle nonconning you in front of Ace and Deuce while going on about how this is the only thing a magicless nobody is good for 👍🏼

Omg yes,,,,,,,,

(cw: yandere, gender neutral, nsfw, non-con, humiliation/degradation, public sex)

Amidst a ruined, debris-ridden rose maze, a monster looms. No one dares stray close, lest they find themselves maimed and sent to the grave, and so they can only watch helplessly from the safety of overturned chairs, tables, and uprooted rose trees. The scene was once serene, an almost-perfect Unbirthday. Now it is desolate and bleak, a nightmarish reality that leaves thick, discomforting silence blanketing the grounds.

Riddle casts a grotesquely bone-chilling shadow, and his appearance mirrors that of a creature torn from the pages of a classic horror; that's the only way to describe him: cruel and cold, all sharp, vicious edges and thorns, dripping blot. He's on the verge of a supernova, toeing the line of life and death, a monstrous mage who has reached the consequences of a culmination of excessive magic, spilled over into bitter negativity. The aura that clings to him is, in a word, utterly terrifying.

And you're right there in his shadow, a fragile, caged thing bent down on your hands and knees. Your fingers curl into the grass, tearing clumps. No one dares to speak up, to demand he release you, to fight for your safety and dignity. Hopelessly collared, Ace and Deuce, your closest companions in all of this mess, look on in horror even though they don't mean to.

It's like a tragedy spun right before their eyes. They want to look away, but they can't. It's morbidly ensorcelling.

"Observe!" Riddle's voice booms, commanding absolute obedience and attention. His pallid hips press against your ass while clawed hands dig into your hips, holding you perfectly still. Blood is drawn; it seeps beneath his sharpened nails, leaving painful indents. You feel filthy and fearful, cut down to something small and insignificant and weak. Droplets of blot speckle your backside each time he shifts. It's warm like candle wax, but it doesn't burn.

The betrayal does, though—stains through to your very soul.

You grit your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes of drifting off elsewhere. Anywhere that isn't here, speared on his cock for all to see, forced into the grass like you're bowing apologetically before the Queen and her card soldiers.

"You lack the key capabilities all mages must possess, and yet you thought it wise to challenge my rules? Here? When my word is law?" He barks out a laugh, sickly amused. Scarlet eyes narrow with disdain. "Perhaps you're as slovenly as you are disobedient. As expected of a disrespectful, magic-less fool who knows nothing! Absolutely nothing of the order I so carefully uphold!"

He pulls back, seething through grit teeth, and snaps his hips forwards. You collapse on shaky arms, gasping in pain.

It hurts more than heartbreak, more than a bruise, more than a slap. Tears spot your lash line, threatening to fall with one more well-aimed, brutal thrust. Spidery fingers dance along your waist, tracing a line towards your neck. He grips your chin and forces you to look upon a crowd of terrified faces, all ogling with bated breath. Ace is watching and so is Deuce, albeit through the cracks in his hands.

"What did you hope to achieve—to prove—by defying me?" he demands, his grip a deadly vise. "That I could be in the wrong? That all I've worked tirelessly for, all that I've done, is wrong?"

"Riddle..." You wince in your futile attempt to pull away. "Riddle, please... I... I'm sorry, but please... You're hurting me..."

He turns your head towards him, eyes ablaze with a furious tempest, and he leans closer, pinning you with startling ease. His cock presses up against your insides, enveloped tightly in your walls, and you shudder through the discomfort and the agony. A single claw traces dangerously close to your jugular.

"Speak up if you have something to say!"

"It hurts!" You gasp again, outright sobbing now. "It hurts! Please..."

"It's a punishment," he sneers, glaring disapprovingly. "It's meant to impart a lesson—one learned through pain. If you understand this, stop sniveling and respond appropriately."

You're not sure which is worse: humiliation at the hands of someone you considered a friendly acquaintance or the fact that, no matter how villainous he may be, you only wish for him to return to himself. You'd never wish this fate on anyone, but maybe it's your too-big heart that makes it impossible to hate him. You don't hate him. You can't.

And perhaps that's the worst part of all this.

You hang your head, defeated and devoid of hope. "Yes, Dorm Leader..."

And so he teaches you and all those who witness the devastating spectacle a lesson neither will ever forget.

Red is passionate and fiery, a reflection of roses and redamancy. But it is not a pleasant color. Not anymore. Not in the aftermath.

Red is the color of Riddle and Heartslabyul and blood and pain and anger. And every time you spy the slowly healing marks from that day, you feel it all over you. Red everywhere, inside and out. Externally, you may heal with all matter of magical cures, but internally it's not an easy fix.

So red is no longer a comfortable color. You wish you could look upon it and admire it for what it is: a color. But that proves impossible, for a color that is so highly revered as pretty does not evoke pretty feelings for you.

[jammyjujuu]

Hiii sorry for not posting in like months.....im currently going insane over smiley sundae so! have my smiley sundae art!

[doodgiee]

A gift for @patorucho, just a family of misfits playing with firearms

[albtrauming]

[samsonitesdomain]

hello smiley sundae what are you doing in my home

[paprus-teutonic-knight]

it's official my new hyperfixation is an 18 year old 7 part Newgrouds game series that stopped being made in 2016

why must i do this to myself

[kitkat-the-muffin]

Reposting my old Zack edit from 2020 cause the original post got buried and I can’t find it