Both obsessed/Tom Riddle (completed)

050. epilogue

The world was theirs now.

The ashes of the old wizarding world smoldered beneath Tom Riddle's feet, the legacy of Dumbledore's idealism nothing more than a distant memory. His power was absolute. Voldemort, the name that had become synonymous with terror, was now an unchallenged force. His empire of blood and darkness stretched across the land, a kingdom built on fear and control, and in its center stood two figures: Lord Voldemort and his most devoted companion, Nagini.

Tom's throne was no longer a mere symbol of power. It was a place of absolute dominion, a dark sanctum where only the obedient dared to enter. And Nagini—Ernesh in his human form, a twisted fusion of man and serpent—was never far from his side.

Ernesh had transformed into something more than a pet, a mere lover. He was an extension of Tom's will, a creature so deeply entwined with him that no boundary existed between them. His human form, while still capable of returning on rare occasions, now seemed almost... unnecessary. The snake form was where he truly belonged, and Tom had made sure of that. The ritual had drained Ernesh's very essence, leaving him bound forever to Tom's power.

But even when Ernesh slithered through the corridors of their private sanctuary, always close—always within reach—Tom could still feel his gaze. Those dark green eyes, impossibly deep and full of obsession, never left him. They burned with an intensity that matched his own, a hunger that stretched beyond mere desire. It was a need. A desperate, insatiable craving.

Tom loved it.

He had taught Ernesh to crave him in ways that were almost suffocating. He wanted to be the center of his world, the sole reason for Ernesh's existence. When Ernesh's body slithered beside him, curling at his feet, Tom reveled in the fact that there was nowhere else Ernesh could go, nowhere else he would want to go.

And when Ernesh was in human form, as he sometimes chose to be in the privacy of their chambers, he was just as devoted. His touch lingered on Tom's skin like a whisper. His mouth always sought Tom's—soft, insistent kisses that were just as much about possession as they were about affection. Every inch of Ernesh's body was a reflection of Tom's own desire, molded by his power, consumed by his every whim.

There were times when Tom would gaze down at Ernesh, his serpent lover curled up in the shadows of their room, and feel a strange satisfaction. Not just because of their success, not just because they had claimed the world, but because Ernesh was his. Always. No matter the form he took, no matter how he slithered across the cold floors or pressed against Tom's chest, his loyalty never wavered. His obsession never faltered.

Tom could see it in the way Ernesh's eyes glowed when they shared the same space—how he seemed to melt into the walls, the air around him thick with a devotion that felt suffocating. Ernesh no longer cared for the world outside their chambers. All that mattered was Tom, and it thrilled him.

On quiet nights, when the world outside fell silent, when the only thing left was the soft, echoing hiss of Nagini's breath, Tom would sit beside him, caressing his scaled body, letting his fingers trace the serpentine form that had become so familiar. Ernesh would respond with a flicker of his tongue, leaning into the touch, his body vibrating with a kind of unspoken need. Tom would smile, brushing the hair from Ernesh's human face, kissing his forehead gently—almost tenderly—before his fingers would wander lower, tracing the contours of Ernesh's throat, knowing what it would do to him.

And then, there were the nights when Ernesh would shift back to his human form, exhausted from being in his snake form too long, needing rest, but unwilling to leave Tom's side. He would press against Tom, his lips trailing up his neck, unable to stop himself. Even now, with his human form fragile in comparison to the strength of his serpentine self, the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable. Tom would allow him, of course—he always allowed him. Ernesh was his, after all. He could do whatever he wanted to him.

"You belong to me," Tom would whisper into his ear, his voice dark and thick with satisfaction, his hand tightening around Ernesh's neck as he pulled him closer. "You are mine in every sense."

And Ernesh would answer with a low, almost inaudible hiss, the warmth of his breath mingling with Tom's skin.

Sometimes, Tom would lie awake at night, staring into the darkness, listening to the soft rustle of Ernesh's movements beside him. There was a twisted joy in the fact that he had done this—that he had created this unbreakable bond between them, a bond that had surpassed mere affection or obsession. It was possession. It was control. It was a kind of love that could never be undone.

In the dead of night, when the rest of the world slept—or lay broken—Tom and Ernesh would share their moments in the shadows, their love, if one could call it that, an unyielding force of nature. Ernesh would curl up around Tom, his body wrapping tightly against his lover's, his hands wandering beneath the sheets. Tom would hold him close, his fingers brushing over the dark, soft skin, feeling the warm pulse of Ernesh's heartbeat as he drifted off into slumber.

And in those rare moments when Ernesh shifted back to his serpentine form, winding himself around Tom, his massive body enveloping him like a protective shell, they would sleep in silence. Their bond, a whisper in the air between them, unspoken but all-encompassing.

They were no longer just conquerors. They were gods in their own right, rulers of a broken world that had bent to their will.

And in the quiet of their sanctuary, they waited. They waited for the world to realize that there was no salvation. No escape. That Tom and Ernesh—Voldemort and Nagini—would never be defeated.

Not by anyone. Not by anything.

For Tom Riddle and Ernesh had created something unbreakable.

A love, twisted and dark, built upon fear and blood.

And in the end, it was all they would ever need.

I am done with this book. Enjoy the lasts of it. My fav book so far.

Book 2? Golden trip era?

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