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Summary
50 years ago, Tom Riddle’s soul was sealed into a diary, helplessly trapped within its pages. For decades, he sought to escape this prison of his own design.
So when a boy named Harry Potter begins writing to him, Tom seizes the opportunity to achieve his freedom. Harry is shockingly easy to possess, after all. Yet for some reason, Harry can retain consciousness while possessed, and worse, he can take control back. Being possessed by Tom doesn’t even seem to do anything to drain his vitality.
If Tom didn’t know better, he’d say that Harry’s soul was somehow used to sharing a body with Tom’s own. But that was impossible, wasn’t it?
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“Why do you smell like that?” Neteyam asked.
“I was in the brewing den,” she explained, “for work.”
He leaned in again, sniffing the air around her, closer this time, even burying his face in her hair. “This doesn’t smell like kava…” he muttered, his voice laced with confusion.
She rolled her eyes, “Kava has always smelled like that, Neteyam.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he argued.
“Yes, it does! How else would it smell, then?”
“It—it’s supposed to be sweeter,” Neteyam stammered, “Like how you usually smell!”
She stared at him for a moment, confused. “What…?”⬷ Update Schedule: We are back to spontaneous. I repeat, we are back to spontaneous.
𓆩 𓆪 𖥔 ݁ ˖ ➶ ✧༄ -
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“I do not understand,” I say, anger flaring in me suddenly. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to look at me. I—” His voice breaks, just barely. He clears his throat and looks at me straight. Brave. “I want you to look at me,”
My anger falters.
“All my life,” he chokes, looking at me helplessly. “That’s all I’ve wanted. But you have never. I cannot stand to see you with Tarsem or Ìpxea, or whoever else. I cannot stand it; I am selfish. I want to be awful to them.” He laughs, without humor, and looks down at his feet. “I thought I could just stay away. But then you almost die taking a bullet for us!”
I stare at him helplessly, my heart its own creature in my chest.
---Jun is many things: an orphaned boy, a capable hunter, a fine warrior. And, apparently, the sole object of Neteyam’s desires.
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Summary
Years following the defeat of the Absolute, Church and Astarion have made a new life — a challenging, but happy life — for themselves in the Underdark. But after a ritual goes wrong, Church finds himself waking up in the arms of a different Astarion, in a world where a single decision led to a very different and devastating outcome to their story.
While the Astarion and Gale of his world work tirelessly to bring him back home safe, Church fights not just to understand this new world and how his lover has changed in it, but also to retain his sovereignty in mind and body so that he may find his freedom from the elf his other self once loved.
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Husk shook on a singular deal in the entirety of his lifetime. One. Singular. Deal.
It was a horrible deal, disastrous to shake on really, but Husk had literally no choice. Because it was either shaking a cold hand, or holding onto cold cell bars.
He did Alastor’s bidding for one lifetime. Hiding bodies, hiding Alastor himself, disposing bodies, and then when it came time; disposing of Alastor’s own cold, limp body.
That was it. That was the end. Til’ death do we part or some shit.
But noooooooooo
Alastor, the jackass himself, tracked Husk down in a matter of minutes after he arrived in hell.
And that’s when it occurred to Husk:
This deal was still in place.
And Husk’s top advice when this is done:
You can’t just stay away from Alastor.
—
Discontinued/maybe? Hiatus