(TW: Graphic sexual scenes. Dark themes and gore. Not a light warning.)
ICON KILLER, Geordie Kieffer
Canine teeth lyin' on bloody concrete
I lay back, lickin' my paw, rippin' the beat
It'd take ten men to fuckin' apprehend me
While I'm sittin' in Lotus position seven seas deep
Rato, con ese vato up in my saddle
My shadow be spankin' homies with wooden paddles
And I rattle like serpentine up in the trees
When the breeze touch kitty pink squeeze, I make 'em seize
Icon killer, fuck with the gap
Yo bitch, I'm icon killer, fuck with the gap tooth sister
Mr. Splitter, thick thigh pussy pillar, and god fucker
I leave a lover, tuck a brother under the cover
Suffocate him, find another
My gut get fat with the heart from my lover
The bloody beat heat, pickin' meat out my gap teeth
While he suckin' the kitty, kissin' my sweet feet
Hold up, what you gonna do
When I point my pirouette toe and put it through you?
Green light hit, went deep
Boy, sweet dreams, go to sleep
The walk out of the forest had been beyond awkward; Harry felt like it was obvious on his face, his cheeks too hot, his cock still hard.
It was nightfall when they retrieved the serpent—held inside a greatly expanded trunk and reduced to fit in the Dark Lord's pocket. At least two hours thereafter were spent on political discussions that Harry and Nagini weren't required to attend, instead playing cards in the tent set up for the final time.
'He really just… Did that.' He thought while he showered.
Tom didn't respond and examined Harry's thoughts instead. He got dressed in robes that were familiar and warmed. When he exited the bathroom he couldn't meet Voldemort's sharp stare; his face unendingly, irritatingly red.
Nagini had picked up on in the instant they'd returned from the forest, her shock quickly becoming giddy as she smirked at them both. She was still grinning at him when the Dark Lord stood from the table to lead them outside and dismantle the tent. She wiggled her eyebrows when Voldemort presented the Portkey home, and Harry narrowed his eyes at her. She giggled as they were flung to Scotland.
They stood near the wooden bridge outside the castle for a long moment. A Tempus told him it was midnight, and the way the Dark Lord was backing away from him, dragging Nagini, told him that he wasn't going to sleep. He gave Voldemort a long-suffering stare but let him go.
"…No?" Nagini said. "You both need to sleep. And neither of you do? Where are you going without him?"
"Did you tell her?" Voldemort took a step forward, accusing.
"Why would I tell her?"
"You didn't need to?" She laughed and threw her hands up, and the Dark Lord pulled her away, muttering fast in her ear.
"Well, then don't do that!" She shouted, and Voldemort dropped her arm like it was radioactive.
'…If we sleep, is my Horcrux… When are we doing the dream?' Harry wondered, more apprehensive about the dream led by his Horcrux than by anything else to that point.
'I believe he will act immediately, yes.'
'You haven't told me what he plans to do?'
'He has ambitious ideas. That he was purposefully vague about. We are going to attempt to observe them without his knowledge.'
'Wait.'
The Dark Lord stood stock still in the cold, breath fogging out from underneath his mask. Nagini glared at him with her arms crossed and declared that she was freezing.
'We're going to spy on them? That's insane?'
'Insane, but doable. Consider it a barometer.' Tom thought.
'A what?'
'A gauge. We will see what the Dark Lord would never show us willingly. The way they interact, what Voldemort does in response, is valuable.'
Three Death Eaters were at the end of the bridge, and the Dark Lord dismissed them entirely. They hurried into the castle without question.
'I don't think it's a great idea to spy on them, won't he just… Know? That we're there?'
'Not necessarily. We aim to find out.'
'I think you're giving him too much control.' Harry thought. His hands were in his pockets, shivering anyway as Nagini and Voldemort held a hushed argument.
'Control is what he wants most. Give him what he wants, and you control him.'
'That's stupid.'
'…Trust me.'
Harry swallowed, and the Dark Lord withdrew Harry's Invisibility cloak from a pocket inside his robes and enlarged the tiny scrap of fabric. He threw it over himself and his familiar, and Harry rolled his eyes closed, turned toward the bridge, walking before he opened his eyes.
'He shouldn't have control.' Harry repeated.
'Who does he report to? Who does he ask for permission? He is not in control.'
He paused in the clock tower courtyard, assuming Voldemort would lead him somewhere in the castle for an uncomfortable and deeply restful sleep. Instead, he felt the Dark Lord stop behind him.
"Are you following me?" He asked in Parseltongue. "To my room?"
"…Walk."
Heat flushed him as he did as he was told; the possibility of sleeping in a bed with contact was enticing enough to get him moving despite the nerves.
'What's he gonna do? My Horcrux?' Harry wondered. He was equal parts curious, concerned, and in need of distraction. A pair of Death Eaters spotted him walking 'alone' and began trailing after him.
'If it makes you uncomfortable, you do not have to watch.'
'What the fuck is that supposed to mean?'
'He was vague enough; I believe he aims to… Change his mind.'
Harry stopped on the bridge between the Gryffindor and clock towers, hands tight on the rope before Tom took over and marched them inside.
'Why the hell can't they do this in their own head?'
'For whatever reason, he cannot control the dreamscape in the Dark Lord's mind. I am assuming it is his Occlumency.'
'So, I repeat, won't Voldemort just automatically know we staged it?'
'Not necessarily; I believe I can fool him.'
'…This is a low-reward batshit plan, and I think he's a bad influence on you,' Harry thought, uncomfortably close to the Room of Requirement and suddenly wishing he was anywhere but.
'It is not low-reward. He will have done what I have been trying to do if he is successful. Get him to see your Horcrux differently. The potential reward is massive.'
'And if it doesn't work, we all get our heads popped off.'
'Like I said, Harry, if it makes you uncomfortable, you needn't watch.'
He'd reached the defence tower and was on the second staircase before his room. 'The way you're saying that is freaking me out.'
No one was waiting for him at the entrance to the Room of Requirement, something he was simultaneously relieved and disappointed to see. He paced and opened his doors, letting Voldemort and Nagini in first.
As he shut the doors, the Dark Lord flung his mask and cloak off, shrinking it and returning it to his pocket while Harry narrowed his eyes. For a moment, he was almost glad to be springing his Horcrux on the Dark Lord. It made the smug look on his face bearable.
"You will sleep in a chair," Voldemort said, and Harry squawked a laugh.
"No? Why would I do that? That's my bed."
"…I am done sleeping in chairs."
Nagini groaned, long and loud, "You are both the worst. Sleep in the same bed?"
"No." They both said, looking each other up and down.
"This is the Room of Requirement. Make another bed, then."
Neither one said anything, and it was Tom who paced for a second bed to appear beside the first.
"You're making each other stupid." Was all she said before she became a serpent on the new bed, coiling into a pile and blinking at them.
Harry was sweating. Though it was warm in his room, he didn't figure it was the temperature. The Dark Lord stripped his outer robe and glared at him throughout.
"No funny business." He warned, and Harry caught a bizarre laugh in his throat.
"…No."
"I mean it."
"So do I?"
"You are not a good liar." He narrowed his eyes and took two steps forward.
"…No, I just- it was funny. Who says funny business? I wondered what counts as 'funny business'? And then I almost laughed at you. So. I'm not going to do anything."
"…Give me your hand."
Harry frowned but did as he was bid, eyebrows raised.
"The other hand."
"Oh," he presented his left and broken hand.
The Dark Lord healed the breaks wordlessly and shook his head the entire time.
It was an adrenaline-fueled walk from the centre of his room to his bed. It took focus and attention from Harry and Tom to stop his legs from visibly shaking while he crossed the short, impossibly long space. He collapsed into his bed, fully clothed and jammed his eyes shut; he saw the lights extinguished from behind his eyelids. Their hands were bound together between the beds, with magic or fabric, he didn't check. He held his breath until the bliss forced it out in a rush. Sleep followed quickly after.
"…Okay, who chose here? Him or you?" Harry asked, turning on the spot and grimacing.
It was the dead of night, lit only by the full moon. It made the graveyard appear in black and white.
"He did," Tom said, his mouth already on Harry's ear.
"Twisted… Aren't we supposed to hide?"
"Yes." Tom pulled his arm and led him behind a wide, dense gravestone, leaning against it while they waited. He changed the dreamscape slightly, surrounded them with semi-see-through bushes and another carefully placed yew tree.
Each time he looked at Harry, his face softened and he'd lean in, pushing against his shoulder, inhaling on his neck.
"Don't worry," Tom said.
"This is your stupid plan. Be more worried," Harry said. It was impossible to resist leaning into his mouth. Like he was led by hunger, innate and outside his control.
Harry knew it was a dream, but he swore he could feel the warmth of his tongue. Swore he felt his stomach roll with a nervous, potent energy. Like he'd swallowed batteries. Or a pipe bomb. He straddled Tom without thought, pinned him to the stone and kissed him like he was starved. Until he was unceremoniously, somewhat gently dislodged and put back in his seat.
He pressed a finger to Harry's indignant lips before he could protest, his eyes hooded. In them, he saw a twin hunger that had his nerves jumping again. He flicked his tongue and sucked Tom's finger into his mouth.
"…Harry, fuck." He hissed it, retracted his hand, his mouth open. "We're here for a reason. Do you want him to find us fucking in the bushes?"
"…Sort of."
Tom inhaled sharply, almost leaning back in before his eyes darted past Harry's shoulder. He nodded for Harry to look, and he turned to find the Dark Lord, wand drawn, taking in the graveyard of Little Hangleton. Their hiding place had been perfectly placed; from where they sat they had a clear view of Voldemort, and he did not have a clear view of them. Harry watched him marginally relax, apparently deciding he was alone.
Harry's Horcrux didn't let him think so for long. He sprung silently onto a tombstone, sat cross-legged, and held his hands on his knees like he was meditating. His eyes were wide open—too wide—sharp teeth bared in a mockery of a smile.
The Dark Lord nearly tripped when he turned and spotted him, wand immediately raised. He took a rapid handful of steps back to create distance. There was a beat of silence before Voldemort broke it.
"How are you doing this?"
"I suggest running," His Horcrux said, conversational. "Aw, magic not working? That's sad. You're so lost and helpless without it."
Tom was leaning in to watch like it was his favourite movie, his face next to Harry's, his weight on his shoulder. Breathing on his chest. Harry found it difficult to pay attention to the Dark Lord or his Horcrux; instead, his eyes were locked on Tom's neck, on his thundering pulse.
"Don't be scared! I'm nothing? Not when compared to you, big tough guy."
"…How are you doing this?" The way Voldemort's voice seemed close to breaking drew Harry's attention.
Though his Horcrux had said that Voldemort's magic wasn't working, he still held his wand level with the demon's smiling face.
"…A fucking gnat, that's got your fingers all aquiver. Lest we be torn asunder. You know, I've been thinking. Watching you watching them. Watching me, really, at the core of the thing. You watching me. Me watching you. Me watching you watching me with a rock-hard cock. Anyway, THINKING, I was thinking-"
"Shut up."
"Don't interrupt me," Harry's Horcrux straightened on the tombstone. "I was thinking how sometimes when you say things to that Harry you say them like you're asking." He slid off the grave, tapping a finger to his chin like a philosopher. "An example," he said as the Dark Lord took another step back. He looked genuinely pained and shook his head repeatedly as though trying to wake himself up.
"'Touch me again and I'll spill your fucking guts'. See, I know you don't really mean it; I see the little ghosts in your head even when you chase them around. How often do you really imagine him flayed compared to the number of times you've pictured the opposite, squeezing your cock off."
"…You're wrong."
"…Bet I am. Bet I'm wrong when I say you want to be punished for what you are. Oh, there it is, saw it there, a delicious little 'yes' on your face."
"How are you doing this?" He'd stopped backing away, stopped shaking his head. His eyes were wide, hands unsteady.
"'I want to destroy you. I want you to beg me for it. I want to watch the light leave your eyes.' I hear what you really mean, what you really say, what you really want. Come closer; let me show you what you're asking for."
Neither moved, and Harry's Horcrux laughed. He tucked his arms behind his back. "I'll pull your windpipe out your mouth, pretty boy. I'll burn your eyes out, flay you alive, crack your ribcage open and pluck your heart like a pearl from an oyster. I will watch you weep at my feet for your mother, begging for your destruction. Every annihilation."
He closed the space while Voldemort blinked at him. Like a deer on the highway.
"You want me to heel?" He laughed again, "ME? You want me to beg? ME? Other way around motherfucker. I'll have you on—your—KNEES, bitch. You'll plead with me."
Harry wondered how on Earth this was meant to change the Dark Lord's opinion, but Tom seemed to think it was going just fine; his wide eyes sparkled in the moonlight, breath catching in his throat.
He watched his Horcrux press his nose to Voldemort's wand, open-mouthed grin. The Dark Lord lowered his arm, almost like a man accepting he was about to be torn apart by rabid dogs.
"There you go. Wasn't so hard," He crooned, then yanked Voldemort in by the scruff of his shirt, "Was it?" He swept the Dark Lord's legs out from under him, and he dropped without resistance to his knees.
Harry's Horcrux hovered two fingers above the Dark Lord's eyes. "Should we start here? No. I want you to LOOK AT ME." He screamed in his face.
He didn't flinch.
"Tell me something, Tom Riddle. How did my cock feel in your hand?" He nodded Voldemort's chin and spoke for him, "'Great, thanks for asking, Harry! You have great questions. I liked it when you screamed and arched your back like that; I had to imagine House Elves in lingerie so as not to cum on your ass, Harry.'"
The Dark Lord didn't respond, chest heaving, staring through him.
"WHAT'S—MY—NAME?!" He'd jammed his thumb in Voldemort's mouth, holding him like a freshly caught fish.
Voldemort spat, bit down on his thumb. He just laughed, pulled at the collar of the Dark Lord's shirt with his free hand, undoing buttons.
"…Don't." He said. He tried to stop Harry's Horcrux's hand but he immediately replaced it, working on the buttons again.
"It's mine; I'll have it. I'll put my eyes on it, and you'll say my name."
"No."
"How was that Patronus, huh? Really something. Look what you can do if you put your mind to it. Oh, wait, sorry. That wasn't you. You were on the ground being mauled by a sheet."
Voldemort sprung forward and tackled his legs from under him, crashing Harry's Horcrux into the dirt. He cackled and hadn't let go of the buttons. Semi-pinned to the ground. The Dark Lord seemed to notice his mistake as it happened; his Horcrux wrapped his legs around Voldemort's middle with the quickness of a bear trap.
In the same instant, he punched through the Dark Lord's ribcage, his arm vanishing inside his chest to the elbow. Blood poured free, and Voldemort was gasping, unable to decide where to put his hands. No attempt to free himself gained any traction. A stunned rat in a trap. Within a few horrifying seconds, Harry's Horcrux was working his arm free, squelching. Voldemort trembled like a leaf as his heart was torn out by a grinning Horcrux.
He held it above his face, dripping onto his unshakable, inhuman grin. Then he licked it, pressed the whole of his tongue to the base and dragged it slowly to the valves. Red everywhere—the only colour. "Home. Sweet, sweet home."
He extended it to a hypnotised Dark Lord, frozen and held trembling above him.
"Taste it."
Harry watched, shellshocked, as Voldemort leaned into it, pressed his lips to his bloodied heart, and followed it to his Horcrux's smirking mouth.
"…Tom," he whispered, looked at him to find him equally bewitched, mouth open as he watched, not breathing.
"…Don't look; you don't need to see it."
There was no way he couldn't watch. His eyes found Voldemort and his Horcrux, pulled by the force. Their tongues touched for an instant on the still-beating heart. Then they were locked in a furious, biting kiss; the heart squeezed in his Horcrux's hand until it looked fit to burst.
Tom was at his neck, arm locked around Harry's middle and pulling him in.
They were fully bloodied, as though they'd bathed in it, his Horcrux laughing—muffled as he tore at the Dark Lord's lips. He flipped him onto his back without letting go of his mouth and dragged his heart across the dirt of his father's grave.
It was with a good deal of horror that Harry realised he was hard, that his cock was twitching with his heartbeat—thundering in his chest as Tom whimpered on his throat.
His Horcrux was destroying Voldemort's clothes with his free hand, the muddied organ in the other. They hadn't disconnected, the Dark Lord moaning continuously into his laughing, sharp mouth, whimpering in the same way Tom was—his hands furiously undressing Harry's Horcrux just the same. Desperate. Naked.
"I'll give it back to you," his Horcrux said, pulling away from his shredded mouth and holding up his heart for him to see. He freed his cock from his pants and held Voldemort by the throat. Then he slammed into him, immediately thrusting a furious beat, the Dark Lord covered in his own blood and howling, pinned and fucked in the dirt.
Tom had slipped his hand into Harry's pants as he stared, dumbfounded, at the insane scene before him. He thumbed the tip of his cock and suckled his earlobe, breathing hard, firing acidic chills all through Harry's body. With his other hand, Tom covered his mouth, hiding the moans he hadn't even realised were coming from him.
"Because I always give it back to you, I let you feel it all, everything you feel is mine first because I let you have it, you belonged to me the instant I branded you, and you kneel before me daily, sad—little—boy squirming under his new fucking GOD." Each word was cackled, in tune with the pounding of his hips. Voldemort was reduced to sound, searching for purchase as his Horcrux forced his dirty heart back into his chest and twisted his cock with his free hand.
"You—will—beg. You—are—mine. SAY MY NAME."
"…Ha-Harry," he came as he said it, hips bucking before he was forced back down by his snarling Horcrux.
"…There now. It's not so hard to punish a masochist you can't kill, sweetheart."