Tag: Chandis 1

  • Good Things…

    Good Things…

    sad, pining, TBO canon adjacent

    There will always be a distance between them that he can’t close.

    There will always be the knowledge that this is a diversion and nothing more.

    There will always be that quiet, unsettling feeling that seems to flicker in his breast, the one that tells him that he’s making the worst decision of his life.

    Charlie knows better than most: good things don’t last forever.

    The bracelet on her wrist squeezes, and he feels her fingers brush over him. Usually, this brings comfort, but today it brings a new anxiety. When this is over, will she bring that piece of him with her back to Faerun?

    Will he have nights like this, staring into the dark, feeling the ghost of her from a dimension away?

    There, the feeling grows claws, piercing his heart. Charlie presses his palms to his face, taking a shaky breath, feeling Thandi’s pulse rise. She must have woken.

    A faint voice tickles him. Oh, darling… Fingers stroke and pet with a purpose now. Tears drip from his face as she strokes the bracelet into relaxing around her wrist, and then the feeling of her lips…  though the sharp pain lances through him, leaving a weight that settles into his bones, he also feels… buoyed. He closes his eyes and loses himself to the feeling of her comforting him. If only he could do the same for her.

    At least while she is with him, he’ll do anything it takes for her to feel as good as she makes him feel.

    The bracelet wraps around her wrist a few extra times, stroking her wrist with a loving tendril. Thank you. I’m okay. I love you.

  • Estate Test

    Estate Test

    Charlie Backstory, Child Abuse, TBO Canon

    Charlie presses himself into a cabinet, holding his breath as he hears the door creak open. He hears the heavy steps of his father as he enters the library. There is a pause, then the steps leave, door clicking shut.

    A few more cautious seconds, and Charlie emerges from the cabinet in one of the shelves. His relief doesn’t last long. A hand grabs his collar and yanks him out, Charlie yelping in his small voice.

    The red face of his father has a deadly calm on it.

    “Are you so confident in your abilities that you believe you don’t need to be schooled any longer?”

    “I—”

    “Good. You are in charge of the estate today. I am leaving for three days. If I return and things are less than stellar, you will regret ever having been born.”

    Charlie’s knees are shaking. Tears are already bubbling up. He’s nine! What good can a nine year old do?! “I already regret being born!”

    This earns him a ringing slap across the face, rings biting into skin, force enough to throw him into the corner of the cabinet door. He yelps once more, grasping at what will surely become a lovely bruise in a few hours.

    “Then earn your right to live, Charles.”

    A failure.

    His incompetence is his fault, always skipping on classes. Failing to read the books. Even with his mother and Josiah helping him, he can barely handle the workload. They’re desperate to lighten his load while keeping a secret from Byron’s personal favorites, but there is only so much they could help with without Byron finding out.

    The day he returns is dreaded. Many things run like clockwork, certainly, but what there is to do is only a mild success. There are endless sums in shaky writing, notes written illegibly, and worst of all, he was having trouble doing the accounting and is certain that he messed up somewhere.

    Byron takes care to enumerate each failure in detail. He pours salt on the floor and has Charlie roll up his pants and kneel on it, arms out in front of him. He paces, resting a cane on his shoulder, as he reads off each error as if he were working through the child’s sins.

    Each error is followed by a blow to his arms, his back, his shoulders.

    Charlie stares straight ahead, tears dropping, frown deep, and a furrowed brow. He can’t make any noise. He can’t give his father the satisfaction. So he takes it all silently, even when he’s sure that something might have broken. Even when the welts rise and purple. Even when the salt digs deep into his legs, each grain like a bite into his flesh.

    Charlie won’t make the same mistake. He’ll make sure that the old bastard doesn’t get the satisfaction again.

  • Contagious Fear

    Contagious Fear

    TBO Canon, Charlie Thoughts (TBO-era), Gore

    “What are you scared of?”

    “Being split in half.”

    What?? Charlie doesn’t know what to make of that. It’s an oddly specific fear. It rarely, if ever, comes up again.

    But he watches her, wondering, what exactly does it mean? Is it literal? Figurative? Certainly everyone would be terrified of such an event, but the likelihood of it is so astronomically low. And yet, he sees small glimpses of fear crossing her face now and again.

    Quietly, he wonders, perhaps… it’s a good thing he’s a healer. And his magic affords him a way to do the impossible. Flesh knitting back together, organs restored to their places, blood seeping back into wounds… but mental trauma, that he cannot fix. He’s ill suited to that.

    But…

    It’s silly. It is. To note down these impossible things that he can do… and begin to worry about the impossibility of someone doing that to Thandi. She’s already been mortally wounded multiple times. It doesn’t matter where she is or who is around her. Her magic makes her a target, and as the creatures around them become more brazen, he finds that he shares her fear. Can he fix a broken spine? Shredded organs? Torn muscles? Can he do it fast enough? Is there any way to protect her?

    Is there any way to at least comfort her?

    Can he hold her together, mentally?

    The fear sits at the back of his mind. The anxiety drives him to pay undue attention to her health. He can’t seem to stop hovering. He’s scared.

  • The Beginning

    The Beginning

    Charlie’s thoughts (TBO-era), fluff

    When did it start?

    When did she start catching his eye?

    Charlie stares after her, relishing the feeling of her skin against him, admiring the severity of her expression. She works hard and he… just watches.

    Was it when she tried to bring him back to do that obstacle course? She fell backwards, and he was caught off guard by the squeak, and he couldn’t help but laugh. Her face, her pouting good humor! Even after rejecting everything from before, he was compelled to at least help her up.

    He had done well to hide his disgust at touch to begin with, but being forced into close and constant contact with the party was awful. And aside from Thandi, the few contacts between his and others were violent and awful and… then he had been made a fool… Charlie grimaces.

    Maybe not then.

    Was it when Sylvanus laughed at him, broke him down in front of her, as if he knew that Charlie would be weak for her? Put them… so close…?

    Was it just… how she treated him? Trying to guide him so gently away from what he now was learning was… less than stellar behavior?

    Or was it the moment when she fell and he couldn’t just let her hit the ground?

    When she hugged him?

    When she fixed his hair?

    When she didn’t laugh as his composure shattered?

    Charlie feels his cheeks heat, the bracelet tightening on Thandi’s wrist as she works. She pauses and runs her fingers along it, comforting it, and him. It’s a reassurance. It’s a relief. He closes his eyes and decides not to ponder it. As long as it’s her, he needs it.

    He… wants it.

    A flower buds on her wrist and she smiles to herself, giving it a kiss. Her lips on him are a treasure.

  • The Neighbor’s Dog

    The Neighbor’s Dog

    werewolf!charlie

    Ever since Thandi started seeing the wolf in her yard, she’s been sitting out every morning with a mug, before the fog even lifts. It’s always alone, and it seems intrigued by her. She’s been careful not to tempt it closer; the view is always enough.

    A dark shape emerges from the mist. The wolf trots into the yard and fixes her with a gaze that feels…

    That feels… intelligent. Wolves alone are smart, but when this one looks at her, she can almost feel his thoughts. It’s a puzzle.

    They stare at one another, as they’ve done every morning. Today, though, there’s something different. The wolf disappears into the fog, then reappears moments later, carrying a basket. It comes right up to her, and she finally sees that the wolf is collared. A big, leather collar with a glinting tag affixed to it.

    Briar.

    The wolfdog backs up and dashes into the mist, prompting Thandi to rise and peek at the basket. There is a card and a tin of tea, nestled in among peonies.

    Good morning. Thank you for keeping my dog company. I hope he has delivered this adequately. He is prone to wandering. We are glad to have a neighbor who seems to enjoy his company. Thank you once more.

    -C

  • Moping

    Moping

    fluff

    Charlie is insatiable. Thandi laughs as he kisses every bit of her neck as he can, excited to be with her again.

    “Darling! It’s only been a day!”

    “Yes! I didn’t have you for an entire day!” He squeezes her and lifts her up, spinning around, making her laugh more. The kissing resumes before her feet even touch the ground. “What am I supposed to do with myself when I have no one to read to? No one to eat with? No one to squeeze the life out of?”

    “I know you were fine, Charlie. Although… imagining you moping about, now that’s a funny picture!”

    “I wasn’t moping…”

    He buries his face into her neck, breathing her in. Thandi strokes his hair as he calms at last, smiling. “I missed you, too.”

  • Wolf Sighting

    Wolf Sighting

    werewolf!Charlie

    Thandi sees the wolf amid the brush. It watches her warily, so she moves slowly. Where there is one, there are sure to be more.

    Not only that, but this wolf… is odd. Unique with its brown fur, and the size of this thing! Perhaps it has been influenced by the introduction of magic into nature? She has to ask her host later if this is the case.

    The wolf, though, steps closer. Thandi feels her heart starting to pound, urging her to run. She’s too smart to try. The way it looks at her is… a tilt of the head, scenting the air, and the quiet thump of feet on earth are the last she sees of it. The tension calms and she breathes, calming herself. That was… magical. Not in the academic way, but the cherished remember-for-the-rest-of-your-life way. Thandi adjusts her bag and begins the trek back to the cottage.

  • Fever Dream

    Fever Dream

    Vampire!Charlie, Waif!Thandi, modern

    There’s a shivering bundle sitting along the path that Charlie walks along tonight. It gives him pause as he hears the rasp of illness, a rattle that threatens to become something worse. He opens and closes his hands, biting his lip.

    He’s a man of means and he has the ability to take care of this problem. But… there are problems with it… no, if he doesn’t do anything, and they die, then it may as well be his fault. The bundle stirs at his approach.

    The face that greets him is ashen, tired, and sweaty despite the frost on the ground. A young woman, perhaps in her late twenties, early thirties.

    “I want to help you. Do you need help to go to the hospital?”

    Her answer is a quiet one. “Please… I don’t… want to… go…” One look into her tearful eyes assures him that it’s fear keeping her from accepting. Again, he bites his lip.

    “What if I gave you a place to stay? Conditional, of course…”

    The woman ponders it. “I can’t…”

    “The condition being that you are okay with being a vampire’s roommate.”

    There’s a beat, and there’s a moment where he sees something like awe, or interest, on her face. “I…yes…” She tries to stand, but she’s shaking. He will have no choice but to carry her home.

    Thandi’s next few days are a feverish blur. Someone offered her a place to stay, took her home. Gave her a room. Clothes. Food. Medicine.

    It takes time for her head to clear enough to realize what she’d gotten into. And, well, why there was a man sleeping at her bedside, cool hand on the back of her neck. Why is he so cold?

    And, why is he using his hand in place of a washcloth? Seems absurd.

    Things start clicking into place as she stares at him.

    Vampire.

    That had caught her attention when he picked her up. It’s not exactly common. What does vampire mean to him, besides chilly hands and general paleness? She reaches out a shaky hand to touch his hair. It’s so soft! Aah… reminds her of a pet she had a long time ago.

    Perhaps it’s the fever still influencing her, but this is nice. He stirs, yawning, and smiles at her. His canines are a little bit more pronounced than normal, but it’s not wildly attention-grabbing feature.

    “Awake again. More broth? Or are you ready for solid food?” Slowly, she turns and stares at him. “Vampire…”

  • Time Skip

    Time Skip

    hook, Amnesia!Charlie, sad

    Charlie sits, leaning against the cabin wall. Why’d he come out here?

    The leaves of the forest tremble with the wind, and he breathes it in deeply. There had been a longing. A want. A need. Now that he was here, though, what was there for him to do?

    The stars are bright. They twinkle at him, bringing a sort of peace with them. Actually, stars aren’t supposed to do that: twinkling becomes flashing, brightening, swirling, growing.

    He straightens from his lean and watches in awe as it seems a hole appears just above the treeline. What in the world?

    There’s a shriek and something white falls. Charlie runs and dives, hands reaching out, and the full weight of this thing lands on him. They slide on the ground and he realizes in the next moment that he’s broken something catching her. The pain lances up through him and he’s thankful that it’s at least him this happened to. The bundle in his arms wriggles and pulls a hood down from her head. Her eyes grow wide.

    “Ch-Charlie?”

    He blinks. “Um… yes, uh… th…”

    Her eyes are swollen from crying and it’s now that he sees that she’s covered in blood. Her hands are shaking as she reaches out and touches his face, runs her fingers through his hair.

    “Charlie… oh, gods, my Charlie!”

    “Ma’am… clearly you’ve been in an accident… are you okay?”

    “You’re alive…”

    “I have been all my life. Er, may I have access to my arms? They’re. Um. Broken. And the adrenaline is wearing off.”

    The woman obliges, already weeping over his arms. Charlie, meanwhile, takes a breath. Bones crunch and slide back into place. Bruises bloom backwards and his fingers tingle. He hisses with the pain and pushes himself off the ground, only to be hugged tightly by the strange woman before him.

    “Charlie! I’m so relieved! When you fell…! When they cut you…! I thought… you were dead…”

    “This is… awkward. I don’t know you, ma’am. Is it ma’am? Mixter?”

    Her face pales and she reaches out, yanking his shirt up, touching his stomach as she sees a long scar across him. He steps back and pulls his shirt down, looking ill. She points, mouth agape. “It is you… but… you…” Tears start to form and her lip trembles. “…you’ve forgotten…”

  • Blushing Fool

    Blushing Fool

    Charlie’s thoughts (the Big One)

    Before meeting Thandi, Charlie could hardly be said to blush. It was a rare occurrence, and he often removed himself from caring about anything at all which would normally prompt a blush.

    He was used to humiliation, being a frequent victim, and it didn’t do more than irritate him any more. Potential partners didn’t have the ability, the looks, or the wit to catch him off guard; rather, Charlie paid them so little mind he barely spoke more than needed. If he spoke at all, it was to insult or deflect them. In fact, he hardly spared a smile for most.

    So, when Thandi managed to coax a blush out of him, it was a shock. He’d managed fairly well to distance himself from the party, but Thandi insisted on his company. There wasn’t much place to run without her tailing him, and she chastised and advised and touched him with little regard to his status.

    And then, Charlie couldn’t stop blushing when she got involved. She teased him, and he enjoyed it. She touched him, and he adored it. She told him off, and he valued it. Logically, he knew it shouldn’t be the case, but something clicked in him every time she approached.

    She is magnetic. He can’t help being pulled in. She’s different, she’s clever, and she can be adorably ignorant at times. Something about her made him want to care for her and coddle her and treat her special, and he couldn’t not do it. Even when he became furious at her, his heart wasn’t in it for long and he just wanted to make up and be close again.

    To him, she’s the ideal picture of a wife for him. Her tolerance is high, and she doesn’t get cowed easily. He enjoys talking to her, even when they disagree, and she wasn’t bad to look at. He wouldn’t mind engaging in the child making process with her.

    That thought surprises him.

    It’s obvious, certainly, by how his body reacts around her, but to want to do such a thing with her, beyond lustful fantasies? With growing unease, he recounts his past instances.

    Thandi.

    Thandi.

    Thandi…

    Oh, gods damn it all. He might love her.