one or the other // oneshots!!

the finale (tomarry)

artist is zombu7 on twitter, and this chapter is,,,roughly,,,inspired by their tweet!

i 've already posted my first oneshot for the new book already, you can check it out on my profile! (;

i hope you guys enjoyed the journey of these one shots. if you're interested in following, i made a twitter called matoyo0 (matoyo with a zero at the end). i plan on posting updates for fics/one shots, doodles, and abt hp in general <33
thank you so much for your support, and i hope that i continue to have it <333

apologies for any mistakes in this part, it's over 11,000 words and i may have missed quite a bit!

harry/tom
mentions of violence/gore and obsession.
nsfw dubcon and tom likes praise (;

A sigh left his lips, and the man took a long drink from his paper cup. Tired green eyes scanned over the array of files that rested on the desk and computer screen. A hand came up to rub at the slight stubble on his chin.
Frustrated and exhausted, he pushed his chair away from his desk and straightened up, popping the joints in his spine.

The immeasurable feeling of disappointment settled into the core of his bones, and all motivation seemed to melt into hopelessness.

Harry Potter was one of the few and only remaining detectives in a small town named Godric's Hollow, the place in which he grew up. He became a detective after losing his parents in a homicide, and he found that it was all he wanted to do in life.
If it meant he could stop the murdering of innocent people so they could lead their own lives, he was willing to put his own life on the line.

The thing was...detective work wasn't easy. Never had been and never was. However, he was completely successful in the cases he did pick up, and it was why he was currently sitting at his desk, feeling completely restless.

Harry was, unfortunately, working on a case that the police had long since given up on after one of their men ended up dead while trying to pursue the serial killer.

It had been far too long since they had last received a clue, and it was killing Harry ever so slowly, as if he himself was one of the victims.

This killer was...unnatural. He knew that much. Harry was able to decipher that this was a male who was methodically killing these victims. He would carve the letters LV into the corpses, leaving the victims painted in red and bleeding even in death. It's as if they were made to suffer- it was purposefully done in a way that expressed the torture they would be experiencing in the after life.
It was twisted.
This killer had a vendetta, he was sure of it, and one way or another, he would find out why.

Harry walked down the sidewalk of the usually busy street, his eyes unfocused as he made his way to his favorite coffee shop. His long, dark blue coat brushed against his pants as he walked, rustling quietly. His shoes were nearly silent against the concrete.

His mind was completely focused on the case he'd been working on for weeks now, and his feet led him to the place without him having to think. He only came back to consciousness when he heard the familiar bell ring as he opened the door to the cafe. Absentmindedly, he ran a hand through his mess of shaggy hair.
He hadn't bothered to try and tame it. In fact, he hadn't attempted it ever since his accident when he was a young child.
He avoided that memory.