Dad!tomriddle - Tumblr Posts
instant family (t.m.r.)
parent figure tom? pretty short with a lil sum sum at the end. there’s not enough dad!tom content so I tried to make my own. dad!tom makes me think of two people-- edward father cullen (first part) and Klaus daddy michaelson (second part). anyway...
“hand me the child.” you would have happily obliged if the crying baby wasn’t already seized from your arms. you were about to go off on him, but the site in front of you softened the crease in between your eyebrows. strong forearms cradling the length of the baby’s body, and a hand impressively supporting the neck and head. you have never seen tom so delicate, yet protective. it was almost funny seeing tom and his tall ass self with such a small little thing.
“you do small bounces,” tom demonstrated, the infants cries lowering to heavy breaths of sniffles.
your pride usually would’ve gotten the best of you, pushing you to say something along the lines of not needing toms help. the first two days he avoided the child like it had the plague. he didn’t even want to take in silas in the first place.
“please tom, walburga is my friend, and you know how her family is. the Black family won’t have a scandal. the baby has nowhere to go!” he finally agreed, but made it clear he wanted nothing to do with the baby. you knew what you were getting into. tom not being the biggest fan of children was never news. he didn’t hate them, but he didn’t seem like one to volunteer at a nursery either. maybe it was because he was forced to be around them growing up at Wool’s…that’s what you figured.
“and white noise, they like that,” he added, voice no louder than a whisper, eyes focused on silas’ face the whole time. you stood there mouth gaping like a fish. the baby had been bawling for hours. you tried feeding him, shaking his one toy left from his mother, and nothing seemed to satisfy him for more than two minutes. he did seem to have fun pulling on your hair until he nearly scalped you, forcing you to open his little hand. that’s what really upset him. and here comes tom riddle who apparently not only talks to snakes but also speaks baby.
“how are you so good at this?” you spoke softly, mimicking toms tone. you gently placed a hand on his shoulder to take a peek at the baby who was fighting sleep as if he had other places to be.
“at the orphanage, there was a newborn named gabriel.” the words came out of toms mouth effortlessly. the few times he talked about his time in london were not of detail. and he was usually much more guarded and careful with his delivery. “because of the war, the orphanage didn’t have the staff to take in another child, especially an infant. so i looked after him,” silas coo’d and stretched his small arms, twisting in toms arms. he settled down soon after, sleep winning.
you were lost at words. tom didn’t like sympathy he saw it as pity. you didn’t want to push more questions either. his vulnerability to talk about Wools was enough really.
“thank you for sharing that with me my love,” the best you could do, as you leaned into his arm watching the baby’s sleeping form. tension released from toms shoulders.
“rest now, syphilis,” he whispered, running a hand over the infants small head. you smiled at his affection, then lifted your head abruptly to look at your partner.
“tom, his name is silas…”
“oh.”
bonus headcannon
in another life where tom is not so experienced and has a son
tom as a new parent was interesting. he may have read every book in the library on parenting, but let’s be real, nothing could ever fully prepare one for a baby. “oh no, no stop crying. y-y/n! come here! it’s crying!” he panicked, relief crossing his face the moment you walked in.“it??”
but seeing tom not being perfectly good at something was amusing. well, maybe not for him though...“it’s not going on,” tom says says in between grunts. he was currently trying to twist the baby’s foot into the shoe. his son just sat there like a sack of potato’s staring down at his father helplessly. “and he’s not even helping!”
although he did get frustrated at times, tom riddle discovered that parenthood is not a task, but rather a journey. and there were definitely rewards in addition to being a dad. “you should’ve seen it, he was crawling!” you dropped your bag onto the couch and walked toward him. “really?! where i wanna see!” tom grinned excitedly. “right over…oh no where did he go…” tom whipped his head around looking for the toddler. the familiar mop of curly black hair was spotted near the staircase, crawling at superhero speed. “no no no stairs is next week’s lesson!”
of course, what is a riddle heir without a father that wishes nothing but success for their child? “my son, one day you will rule the masses…” he spoke softly to the one year old passed out in his arms. “tom…” you warned.