My Side of the Mountain is a 2019 fic based on Jean Craighead George’s book of the same name. Thandi runs away from home and is found by a wild boy calling himself Briar. Together they survive in the wilderness and raise animals like their children, growing attached to one another and becoming “married”.
Civilized society returns to ruin it all, but Briar won’t have it. He goes to rescue his wife.
Automatic Diary is a 2019 fic where Thandi gets a magical book that mirrors the diary of the person who she’s meant to be with. It ends up being the irksome town doctor who can’t seem to hold anything in his hands for longer than two seconds when she sees him!
This ended up being a heated vinyl experiment! It turned out pretty okay, but not great. I’m not really sure what I’m doing still.
for the most part i am pleased with it, though you can see where i lingered with the iron if you look for too long.
quick flip through
They’ve grown so close, and it’s through her that he learns how good her touch is.
Charlie fell for her nearly as soon as he saw her. The witch of Bellhaven. He’s heard a lot about her.
Charlie taps his fingers on the table as he reads the leaflet in front of him, slightly crumpled from Rev’s beak. Thandi Kahsu’s smiling face is there, a cute hand-drawn cartoon of herself.
Please! Keep personal and business matters separate.
That’s normal.
In regards to the uptick in romantic gestures from the populace, I request that you first consult my familiar.
The formality of it is endearing.
She will be wearing a key around her neck.
There is an adorable picture of a cat licking her paw, large brass key hanging from her collar.
Should anyone succeed in catching her and bringing me the key, I will accept their marriage proposal.
The Witch’s Cat is a 2019 fic based off of some random Tumblr writing prompt where a witch tells her suitors that whoever catches her familiar and gets the key round its neck can become her partner— while in reality she is the cat.
tbo canon
He didn’t think he’d change his mind again so quickly. Going down into the basement, being haunted by the phantoms of hands on him, and then set upon by real phantoms.
Utterly terrifying. Charlie finds himself wondering if the story he heard as a kid is true, about the haunted room in his home at Roseview. But what outweighs the supernatural is how quickly they put Thandi out, and he has to watch as she gets knocked unconscious by these creatures.
He drops his rapier and gets down on his knees, yanking her to his chest. She’s still breathing, and he can still feel her pulse. Good. He presses his hand to her stomach and presses his face to hers, willing her to heal. With more gusto than he usually reserved for these distasteful battles.
He pours in life as thick as he could muster, palm warming against her. There’s the feeling of her fingers on his and his heart jolts back to life. He opens his eyes and she’s looking at him in a way that he’s never seen anyone look before. It warms him as much as the magic does and he smiles at her, hoping he reflects even half as much of this feeling.
Gods, he’s so relieved. She’s squeezed and helped up, legs shaking slightly. He wishes desperately that she would officially take him back. So he could just.
Kiss her better.
And his heart aches when she’s approached again, the literal life being pulled from her like a loose thread. Thandi pales and he pulls her back, wielding his rapier.
“Just kill it,” he hears Thandi say. Well. It’s already dead, anyhow. His sword cuts through the ghost like tissue paper and he watches it dissipate in front of him.
This is much easier than he thought.
drunk!charlie
Drunk at a party is certainly not in Charlie’s list of preferred activities, but he’s made an exception today. It’s just the band celebrating privately and nothing more. They’re even at Tirel’s home, a private little suite. Sometimes the spirit moves him and things just end up working out.
There’s karaoke. Pike is busting out song after song, everyone clapping and singing. ■■■■■ and ■■■■■ watch Charlie with amusement. He clings to Thandi, keeping her in his lap as he keeps his face hidden in her hair. Thandi acts like this is par for the course, talking and cheering and even sometimes wiggling a little dance.
Everyone is having a good time. Singing. Dancing. Drinking. Chatting. Charlie barely talks, clinging to his wife, but every time he says something it’s always waxing poetic about her. It’s so much sweeter than usual.
The only sour spot is when ■■■■ holds the microphone out to Charlie. Charlie’s face goes sullen and he shakes his head.
“I? I don’t sing. Thandi can sing enough for us both, her voice is like a choir… a whole choir…”
Thandi laughs. “Just one, darling? You sing so well.”
“I don’t sing. I hate to contradict you, dearest, truly! But your taste is clouded by your adoration, as all I can do is mumble my sweet nothings—”
“Gross, dude,” ■■■■ snorts. “That’s all right. Tirel, duet!”
The two clamber back in front and Charlie resumes his place in Thandi’s locks.
depression, tbo canon
Everybody has been touching him. Sure, he had to touch people for his larger healing spell to work, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be touched. It made him sick to think about.
First, ■■■■■.
Then Marco or Marglo or whatever.
Then this rude sube lady.
Even later, Tirel touched him.
His skin is crawling, like it’s just going to climb off of him and… ugh. So he’s a bit irritable today! And then he committed the crime of telling Thandi to shut up.
Gods, between the guilt and discomfort, he might get sick and just throw up. Just vomit, right there, and then everyone will again remember what an awful creature he is and Thandi will wonder why she even keeps him around and that fucking dog, he can’t even get through to a little yappy creature.
They prefer that thing that eats people! To him! And then he pushes away the one person who gives even a tiny fuck about him by telling her to shut up. So of course, he just. They’re walking in a circle, following something, and of course if they’re following something around, why not catch it in the middle?
Plus he’d get a minute to catch his breath and not—
Tirel and that orc are talking about him right there. Yeah, he knows. He’s an asshole. A horrible man. Disgusting. Wretched, foul, the only reason he’s here is because he can heal them! But fuck, you know what?
A potion can do his job! What does Thandi need with a possessive idiot coward who snips at her for? Sure, she says she cares, but she’s made it explicitly clear that she only sort of likes him. She can’t possibly ever love him, not like he lov— not like he likes her!
So he’s gotta. He’s gotta start to pull away again. Unless she asks for him, he won’t interfere. Besides, they had a spat already and even if this time she ended up cooking for him (and everyone else) it didn’t mean a damn thing. He fundamentally disagrees with her idea of killing things! Yes! Why is he so fucking fond of a murderer?
But also, seriously, that people-eating orc was already being accepted and he’s just some guy who they save because he carries the fucking bandages. Ethically! It is bad to kill someone while they’re bound but he eats people but can he be reformed but he! Eats! People!!!
Gods, Charlie is so fed up. Next chance he gets he is going to slip away and get on a boat to Cross. He doesn’t belong here. He shouldn’t even be bothering Thandi.
Sure! She is the most beautiful creature he’s ever met, and the only person aside from his mother and Josiah who even thought he was worth giving a damn about, but he’ll wear her down and she’ll get sick of him.
She doesn’t care as much as he does.
No one cares.
Hah.
No one cares!
No one gave a flying fuck when Nora blinked out of existence. Thandi has potions aplenty. ■■■■■ could probably learn to heal if they stopped morphing into a murder fountain every other fight. Tirel hates him anyway. ■■■■ has a shield and plate armor. ■■■■■ would prefer him dead anyway! When he disappears, they’ll shrug and say, well! Fuck that guy.
Not as if there is any reason for anyone to care about him. He never gave anyone a reason. He tried being nice for a spell, but garbage stays garbage even when it’s in a prettier bag.
When the group circles back around and meets with Thandi’s again, he wants to cry. He has to apologize later. The look she gave him earlier practically rips his heart out and steps on it, and she doesn’t even give him any acknowledgment…
Yeah.
He’s going home.
At least there, he knows how to avoid a fucking table to the face, and he knows his enemy deserves to die.
tbo offshoot
A shy smile. Soft lips. A warm embrace.
He’s been having these dreams for years, ever since he was young. Sometimes he laughs to himself as he remembers them, knowing he’s been using such a fairy tale romance as a measuring stick to compare his suitors to.
Who can ever hope to match his knight? She’s brave. Strong. Kind. And so, so… good. Everything about her. Sometimes he sits idly, lost in the memory of her eyes. Deep, dark pools that seem to sparkle with an inner light. The sharp contrast of white clothes against her dark skin… the wonderful softness of her hair… the way she always seems to have all the right words to make him smile.
It’s as if his dream woman has grown with him. And, of course, it being a dream… some nights are simply them in each other’s arms, sweating as they cry each other’s name, kissing, tasting, loving so hard that it’s hard to imagine ever having anyone else.
And that dream is what he rouses from before he’s thrown into a carriage and expected to play nice with some other man who is nowhere near the otherworldly beauty of his knight. Sir Thandi! Even now, as he walks with a fresh suitor, he thinks of her.
And then there’s trouble. A creature, something filthy, monstrous, threatening—somewhere in him finds his magic as Sylvanus whispers in his ear a promise to help him fight. He doesn’t want to fight, he only wants it all to stop! Vines rise and wrap it up, and he wishes desperately that his knight is real. Wishes don’t save lives, though, and then he hears her voice.
“Incendo.”
He turns. Those eyes. Those clothes. Her familiar face looks at him quizzically and he approaches her, not believing his eyes. He almost doesn’t hear her speaking to him as he whispers no. It can’t be her. It couldn’t.
She’s come to get him.
He opens his mouth and next thing he knows, everything fades away in a flash of white.
Automatic Diary, NSFW, masturbation
He can’t take it anymore.
They’ve grown so close, and it’s through her that he learns how good her touch is. She’s gentle. Lovely. Warm, safe, and gods, he’s sensitive to everything she does.
He doesn’t let on that her persistent touches and strokes and kisses are beyond arousing. Nor does he ever admit that he watches her chest and her hips with more than a passing interest, recalling more than once the fantastic peeks that he’s had the good fortune to be shown. Thandi’s wardrobe is dangerous.
And her breasts are definitely the greatest gift to mankind that’s ever blessed the land and he gets them all to himself. Someday.
Tonight, though, he’s finally home after walking her back to her place. She hugged him close, just for a moment, and he kissed her fingers. And then she took his hand in hers and those soft lips pressed to his skin and gods he wants them all over his body. His cock agrees.
Charlie lays back in bed, shirt open, trousers unbuttoned, lazily stroking himself as he thinks of his love. His dearest, his Thandi. What would it feel like to kiss her? He can still feel the ghost of her pressed to him. Her chest is so soft.
To be able to press his lips to her… what sort of noises would she make? He recalls those little squeaks she makes when she’s touched on her neck. Those little sighs when he presses his hand on the small of her back. The giggle she makes when he squeezes her with a little extra enthusiasm.
“Haah… fuck.”
What does her body look like? Her dresses give him a good idea. Her chest, obviously, is amazing. She’s accident prone, and he’s seen the hint of a dark nipple on more than one occasion. And when the chill is just right, gods above, his angel blesses him with a sight to behold. And then he has to loan her his jacket, because he’ll be damned if anyone else gets to enjoy the sight of her peaked nipples.
Thandi’s hips, too. Soft. Wide. A perfect place to rest his hands. And she’s ticklish, and ticklish definitely means sensitive in the right contexts. He imagines her beside him, shyly covering herself as he sweeps his fingertips along her sides.
Would she moan? He hopes so. It makes him twitch, imagining it. He would love to pull such a noise from her. Lick her all the way from her center to her neck. Speaking of, what would she taste like? He’s smelled it from her before. She’s as excitable as he is, and he can smell her arousal at times. And sometimes, of course, the smell lingers on her fingers and he smirks at her while pretending to be ignorant of it.
He can’t wait until it’s his fingers that smell like that. Taste like that. To dip his tongue in her and kiss her in just the right ways?
Would she call his name?
The thought of her under him, begging him to let her come…
“Fuck…”
It’s time to get serious. Charlie grasps himself firmly and pumps his cock, breathing hard as he picks up the pace. How hard could he fuck her? How fast? Would she like it slow and torturous or quick and overwhelming? Either way, he’s going to be inside of her someday.
And he imagines the feeling of her squeezing down on him. She’ll probably be a tight fit, and gods, to kiss her as he pounds her, to suck every bit of flavor from her mouth…!
Her hands wrapping around him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she shouts her need. Begs him to go harder, faster. Charlie’s hips rise as his hand continues the frantic pace he’s set.
“Thandi…Thandi…!”
And he imagines what it would be like to cum inside of her, fill her up, leave a bit of him inside of her. To watch it drip from—
“Thandi!!”
He feels it splatter on his stomach, his chest, gods, it’s all over his hand. Charlie opens his eyes and smiles as he catches his breath. Gods, he can’t believe he’s so lucky to have someone like Thandi be in love with him. She’s slept in this bed! With him!
And maybe someday it’ll be just as he imagines: them pressed together in a needy rut, begging each other to come.
A quick wipe up with his soiled shirt and Charlie sleeps, dreaming of his beautiful love and the amazing things she can do with her hands.
soulmark au
Soulmarks are telltale signs of marriage material. Charlie had the bad fortune of not only being born into a life where not only was marriage a requirement, but soulmarks were frequently forged. Three times, he’s narrowly avoided being tattooed with someone else’s mark, and only because his magic seemed to desperately want to keep him away from human company. He would run, in the form of a rat, a cat, anything small enough where he could just shut himself away until the danger has passed.
The spiraling flower on his collarbone, mismatched from all, was simultaneously a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing because it isolated him, and it was expected that since he’s a single, he’d flourish with his magic. He could manage on his own.
It was a curse because he still longed for a match.
Charlie is lonely. He pulls away from Roseview, navigating from his estate, to a small town, to a castle town called Weeping Hill. There, he studies. Constantly. He’s living off a scholar grant, studying agriculture and magic together. Trying to find ways to improve yields without stressing the soil.
This is where he meets her.
He’s heard about the new magicians from the gossip that seems to radiate from every circle he’s walked. Women from the other world, Faerûn, where all of Alleria’s magic originated.
Master Wildheart and Lady Kahsu. Both very powerful and very sought after. He catches sight of them in the university, and he’s curious. He watches them from a distance; introducing himself right now would be rude. How do they tend to crops in a world where magic has always existed? Are there plants that are unique to Faerûn that would help? How do people do without the soulmarks?
Then she catches his eye. She tips her head with a gentle curiosity, and he feels his heart race, his cheeks heat. How could this be? And then… He can see a swirl of lines on her shoulder. Lines that he’s seen in the mirror every single day of his life.
Impossible.
She’s his match.
fighting, conflict resolution
Charlie slinks into camp, walking back as a panther. He sits at the edge of the firelight, eyes on Thandi. She stares back at him.
Every time he does this, she understands that he has something to say and no way to say it. He has a habit of finding a form that seems to pass the message on better than what he could say. Thandi opens her arms to the panther, who stands and walks into her embrace. She feels the rasp of his tongue on her neck and cheek, the heavy purr rolling out from his chest, one large paw pulling her as close to him as he can.
Thandi strokes the fur of his neck, mildly amused by his clothes. Even as a literal animal, he’s so shy. Unless it’s her…
As she strokes, she realizes suddenly that she’s not stroking fur now, but tangling her fingers in Charlie’s hair. He hugs her close, silent. Savoring her against him.
“Thandi,” he mumbles. “Please. Please… I don’t want you to get hurt. I… just want you to be… a little less reckless. Okay, a lot less reckless. When you get hurt, I get… anxious.”
“I’m sorry, darling.” Always the magic word. She feels his hands tighten on her back as he nuzzles her. She feels her cheeks heat— so affectionate! “I just know what I need to do and do it.”
“Sometimes we have to let people do stuff for us. It’s okay to fall back some. Please, Thandi.”
She smiles and continues to rub his back. “I’ll do my best.”
“You terrify me.”
“Terrify?”
“I… yes. You scare me.”
“I don’t understand… am I…?”
Thandi feels him press her closer to him now, and it’s comforting despite his clear anxiety. His hair is soft. He’s warm. Hot, even. She can feel his stuttering breaths as he considers his words.
“I… as I’ve said before. What am I to do if you die?”
What can she say? She can’t promise not to get hurt. And dying, well, she doesn’t want that, either. “I won’t die, Charlie.”
“You could. You could, and that is the most frightening thing I’ve ever… ever. Been frightened of.”
He cares that much?
“Will you… help me?”
He pulls back now, enough to look into her eyes. Studying her. Tracing a line around her face, lingering low before his eyes meet hers again. He leans close, lips parted slightly, and a well of fear rushes up inside of her. Does he intend to kiss her?
It’s with some relief that he pulls her back, hand pressing her into his shoulder. “Always. Always, always, always. Even if I don’t know how.”
This gets a laugh from her. Thandi clutches at the back of his vest and lets herself laugh, lets herself relax in his arms. “Thank you.”