#code realize fanfic

CW: explicit smut reader/Van Helsing

It’s a simultaneously awkward and comfortable silence as the two of you walk home from the flower meadow. Your fingers go back and forth between delicately touching his to having your entire palm covered by his rough, calloused hands. You both continue to steal glances at each other, but whenever your eyes meet, both of you can do nothing but blush and conspicuously look away. However, it’s not unpleasant. There’s something warm and very you about the artless silence you share, almost as if this lack of interpersonal expertise is something you both can relish in. And it’s something that you can relish in for the rest of your lives. After all, Abraham Van Helsing, former vampire hunter and portrait of cool, ruthless calculations, has just asked you to marry him. Well, perhaps it was more of a demand. But it wasn’t a demand you had any intention of refusing. In fact, what he demanded was what your heart most deeply desires. As the thought runs through your head and you walk through the door of the home you’ve made together, you hold his hand tighter, look at him, and smile. Finally meeting your gaze, some of the worried creases around his eyes soften as he smiles back. But you notice that they aren’t all gone. “Van Helsing... is there something wrong?” “No. Quite the opposite, in fact. I’m... honestly so pleased that I don’t even know what to do with myself,” he says as he closes the door behind him, still holding onto your hand. You search his face and know that he is telling the truth, but there’s somehow still traces of... anxiety, perhaps? “I’m not sure I understand.” He gives a signature self-loathing smile. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t. You’re far too pure...” He gently reaches his ungloved hand out to cradle your cheek, and you lean into his touch. You love the feel of his hands on your skin. It’s the feeling you love and crave more than anything in the world. You never thought you’d be able to touch anything ever in your life, you had resigned yourself to that, and now... perhaps you’ve gotten greedy. You close your eyes. As you feel his fingers leave your face, before you even realize it, grab his hand to keep it there. “Please... I want you to keep touching me.”

Hi there!

Thanks so much for reading my fics! I’m glad you liked them. 😊 I’ve been planning to put them up on Ao3 for years, but I feel like they need a bit of polish now. I definitely will eventually.

To Love and Cherish

Rating: R+ (romantic sexy times) 

The unabridged version of my recent Saint x Cardia wedding night headcanon turned fic. 

Saint finally finished his duties as a host. Everyone drifted off to their rooms, aside from a few Gordon Family members at the bar. He last saw Cardia talking to Shirley. He expected the girls had catching up to do. Cardia wouldn’t return for awhile yet. 

He took a walk to look out to sea. The sound of the waves and the cool night air was refreshing after a night of dancing and revelry. A full moon stood high overhead. He remembered another full moon the night he saw Cardia for the first time; a beautiful, tragic girl looking at him with sad, lonely eyes. He thought something deep in his frozen heart was captivated from that moment. He never dreamt at that time the day would come when he took her hand to speak the most sacred vow he had ever taken. Dancing with her and laughing, surrounded by people who loved them. It was a life he never imagined experiencing. 

He wanted nothing more than to rush down to their rooms and find her waiting for him. To use all he knew to bring her joy and pleasure. To touch and taste her. To feel all of her… but her circumstances were unique. The poison that held her body prisoner had barely faded. She would still need time. He would not press her. He learned at least that much from his mistakes. 

For now, it was enough just to share her heart. 

…

Cardia closed the door with a sigh. She was glad to slip off her shoes and rest her feet. She still couldn’t believe this day had come. That she was married to her beloved. Five years ago it seemed an impossible dream. She could barely recall the long, lonely days spent huddled in her room, unable to experience even the simplest touch. Just a monster to be used or destroyed. 

Her eye caught the beautiful ring on her finger. The emerald Saint’s lost friend gave his life to make sure she possessed. She vowed to use this life Trismegistus provided for her in the best way she could. To live every day to to the fullest. To love and cherish her challenging beloved. To stand beside him when his past began to weigh too heavily on his heart. She knew it would not always be easy. He was not a simple man, but he was the man she loved. 

She looked in the mirror. Her face was was flushed from dancing. Despite her inexperience, Saint made her feel like a flower petal on the wind when he held her in his arms. She could still feel his hand on her back, guiding her gently, his warmth against her chest. She left him just a little while ago, but she already missed his presence. 

She was nervous, but she wanted to feel more of him. He kissed her countless times. She accepted his warmth and touch, but lately that feeling had become something deeper and more mysterious. A strange ache that left her wanting something she couldn’t quite explain. The poison held her back in the past, but now—

She heard Saint’s quiet, slow knock on the door. 

“C-Come in.” she called, her voice trembling slightly. 

She heard the door open behind her and smelled Saint’s cologne, like shadowy gardens and sweet incense. Her heart gave a little jump. 

Now it was their wedding night. 

….

Saint heard the tremor in her voice and opened the door worriedly, “Cardia? Is everything all right?” 

She was sitting at the dressing table, her silver-white gown spread around her. She gave him a radiant smile in the mirror. Her eyes sparkled. His heart was pierced by her beauty. 

“Oh… yes, I-I’m fine.” 

He walked up and embraced her from behind, resting his chin on her bare shoulder, “Are you happy?” 

She turned her head to kiss him, a little more forcefully than usual, “Yes…”  she sighed, “But…”

Saint frowned, feeling a shadow of anxiety, “But? Cardia, did something—“

“No! Nothing like that.” she turned in her chair and kissed him again, “Saint… tonight… We—“ 

Saint answered her kiss gently, “Has someone been telling you about the wedding night rituals? Hehe. You are a special girl. I can wait until you are ready.”

“No…!” she cried, “I… do… want…” she blushed scarlet. 

Saint knelt at her feet, “Cardia…” he took her trembling hand in his and laid it on his cheek. He felt nothing but her warm, soft skin. There was no melting. There was a time when he would have missed the pain, thinking he deserved it. Thinking it was proof that he was the only monster for her. He certainly didn’t deserve to be loved as a man… or saved. He might still be a monster, it was a conclusion he had yet to be able to reach, but monster or not, he belonged to her. If she wanted him, he was hers. If she wanted to wait, he would, “I don’t want you to feel obliged to do anything you aren’t ready for.” he smiled, “I have made such mistakes in the past, never again.”

She gave him a nervous smile, “I am not… explaining myself well.” she admitted, touching his cheek with gentle fingers, “I don’t want to wait… I want to feel you more…” her cute nose crinkled, “I’m sorry…” 

He felt his heart beat a little faster, “You truly want this?” 

“Yes… But if you don’t—“

“Hehe. Don’t be ridiculous. If that is so…” he lifted her arm to slowly pull off her long silky gloves and kissed her wrist, the back of her hand, her palm, breathing in her rosewater perfume, “Allow me to grant your wish.” 

He stood gracefully, aware of her attention to his movements, and lifted her chin to kiss her, just the lightest touches of his lips on hers, then unfastened her hair ornaments. She shuddered as he lightly brushed his tongue along her earlobe. He had no intention of hurrying. He wanted to cherish every moment, every breath, every sigh she made and hold it in his heart, to fill it with so much love there was no room for anything else. 

He kissed her neck, tasting her skin, honey sweet. He listened  to the sound of her sighs, felt the way she shuddered at the touch of his fingers on her bare arms, and down her back as he unfastened the tiny jeweled buttons on her dress. He designed it to be easy for her to wear, and if he gave thought to its removal he would never tell. 

Her dress fully loosened, he lifted her into his arms and  kissed her again, this time teasing her lips apart kiss her more deeply, tasting the sweet champagne on her tongue. 

“Mmm… Saint?” Cardia asked softly pulling away, “May I do… the same for you?”

“hehe You wish to undress me? I am happy to oblige.” he was a little surprised… and pleased… by her suggestion.

He put her on her feet when they reached the bedroom. The dress slid off as easily as he hoped. The thin silk slip she wore underneath much more beguiling than the dress. The delicate pale blue ribbons at her breasts made him want nothing more than to untie them, but Cardia had her own ideas. Her expression was adorably serious as she attempted to undress him. He hadn’t given thought of the ease of his own clothing’s removal, and she had trouble with the buttons. Her shaking hands definitely weren’t helping.

“Here.” he put his hand over hers when her frustration appeared to be escalating, and helped her undo the pearl buttons. She was determined to do the rest herself. The delicate touch of her fingers on his skin as she carefully unbuttoned his shirt made him tremble as much as she. She untied his cravat and kissed his chest as she pushed his shirt off his shoulders. She looked pleased… and reluctant to go any further. 

“Are you satisfied, or would you like to finish?” he teased. 

“…. I-I think this enough for now.” she murmured, her ears going red.

He smiled, “Then it is my turn.” he whispered in her ear, and kissed her neck down to the crystal jewel on her chest. His hands at last found those tempting ribbons. He untied each one with a kiss. His heart beat faster when he opened her slip to reveal her beautiful full breasts. Her body had become gentler with time, softer and more human. He kissed them each, aware that her skin was was still extra sensitive. The feel of her breasts in his hands ignited something wilder than anything he could remember experiencing. Perhaps a memory of his lost humanity, or just the desire he had kept suppressed from the moment he was freed from his prison. It was getting harder to hold back…

She gasped at the feel of his tongue and teeth on her nipples. Her breaths coming in short gasps, “Saint!” she cried, “… this feeling is…!” she tangled her hands in his hair. Her grip was almost painful. He released her a moment to catch his breath. It would not do to rush…. not at all. She deserved the best he could give her. 

“Cardia… Are you all right?” 

He could see that she was nervous, “Yes…. Yes… I-I am prepared…”

“There is nothing to fear. I promise I won’t hurt you.” he lifted her off her feet and laid her on the bed. He moved to undo l his final button—

She rose to stop him, “Wait!” she wrapped her hands around his waist and pushed down his pants in one smooth motion and kissed his stomach… and lower… lower… she touched him shyly, “You are as beautiful as I imagined.” 

He was startled. Did she mean to…? He felt a most uncharacteristic rush of heat to his face as well as elsewhere, “Cardia…?” 

She smiled up at him. Her face was red, but a little mischief glittered in her eyes, “I knew you would be more beautiful than the illustrations in books… I have wanted to see for a long time.” 

He laughed a little awkwardly, recalling his prank on her much more innocent self, “Aha…I see. I am flattered, but it is my turn. A gentleman must see to his wife’s pleasure first.” 

He knelt before her and kissed her belly, his fingers lightly tracing her hips before untying the pale blue ribbons of her panties. He breathed deeply. Her scent was intoxicating. He smiled to himself, gazing at her sweet, delicate feminine sex, already glistening with desire for him. He was honored and humbled to be her chosen lover. This precious, strong and gentle soul. She who fought fate, who defeated and saved him. He hurt her, and he would never forgive himself for it. Starting now, he would atone by giving her body all the love and joy his skill was capable of bringing her. He pushed her gently back against the bed and lowered his head between her legs. His kisses were light and teasing, enjoying the sight and taste of her, carefully gauging her reactions, cherishing them and letting them build until the increasing urgency of her cries told him that the time had come to finish. He took her into his mouth. She screamed his name and arched off the bed, her hands gripped his hair. It was the most beautiful pain he ever experienced. The most exquisite sound he ever heard. 

When he was sure she fully satisfied, he rose to look at her, shameless and in full abandon. He was profoundly pleased by his handiwork… but even he had his limits, “Did this feel good? Tell me.. please tell me…”

“Yes…” her voice was barely a breath. She opened her eyes.  

Her eyes told him everything. He was shocked at what he saw there. No one had ever looked at him like that. She saw into the frozen parts of his soul and set them aflame. He felt both vulnerable and much stronger captured by the love and trust in those eyes. He swore in that moment to live up to that trust. To be the man she saw in him. 

It was too much. He took her in his arms and kissed her lips, she accepted his kiss… she accepted all of him. Her body  welcoming him readily. She moaned a little when he entered her, but her joyful smile said that she felt only pleasure, “I love you,” he said as began to move inside her slowly, letting her get used to the rhythm. She wrapped her legs around his waist pulling him deeper as he felt her bear down on him hard, her cries beautiful music to his ears, “I love you.” he said again breathlessly in the language of his long ago youth, as he finally surrendered to his need, and the feeling of her soul bound to his, of their bodies joined as one. 

….

A long time later Cardia lay gasping in the aftershocks of more pleasure than she thought her body could ever experience. She felt beautifully exhausted, as weak as a kitten, and utterly, profoundly loved, as she lay wrapped in the arms of her husband. She closed her eyes and listened to the rapid beat of his heart. It soothed and excited her. 

“Are you happy, beloved?” Saint repeated his earlier question, gently caressing her naked back. 

“I am happy.” she replied with a content sigh, “I think I will be happy for the rest of my life.” 

Rating: R+ (romantic sexy times) 

The unabridged version of my recent Saint x Cardia wedding night headcanon turned fic. 

It has come to my attention that the cut didn’t work on my last posting. I apologize! This one should be a little more shareable if anyone has the mind. 

The Night Visit

Post-Finis route. No spoilers for Silver Miracles. 

(Sorry for the long wait! This is the PG-13 version. I will post the R rated version shortly!)

The late summer days passed warm and peaceful. I could feel the softness of the breeze and the gentle sunlight as I dozed in my favorite reading nook, propped up by cushions. The trees outside my window just barely fading from the lush, bright greens of summer into the wan golds of autumn. Lately the nights had been growing cooler, the insects changing their song, becoming more urgent with the promise of colder nights to come. 

How long had it been since I noticed such things? The simple, normal signs of time’s passage. How many countless seasons had I witnessed them unaware and unfeeling? A ghost passing through time. Experiencing nothing. Feeling nothing. 

I pressed my fingers against the cool glass, the dappled sunlight filtered through the tree branches flickering over my hand. I always thought this world’s beauty was what I was entrusted to protect. In order for all humanity to live in peace, to enjoy the beauty of flowers and dappled sunlight. To hold their families close and feel the gentle touch of their lover’s hand. To live without fear of strife or war. 

I would bear the pain of those sorrows for everyone, so they could live in peace. It was my reason to still exist, thousands of years past my natural death, so others would not need to suffer as I did. It was a worthy cause. The anguish and heartbreak of my duty… even the deaths of a few lost souls was a small price to pay to protect the happiness and peace of thousands of people, for millions yet be born who would only live because those few perished. 

So I always believed. 

I closed the book on my lap, watching the shadows play over its cover, wondering if I had really done any good at all. If I was worthy of this space of peace and happiness that I was allowed. If there were others like Miss Cardia who could have defied their fate, given the chance. If I could have helped the lost souls change their fate, as Miss Cardia helped her little brother. A truly lost soul, brought in the world only to help destroy it. If one such as he could smile and eat sweets and love his sister, what of the countless others I unquestioningly condemned? 

I shook off my melancholy thoughts. Useless things brought on by her absence. She who was so much stronger than I. She who saved lost souls, like her little brother. 

Even as she also saved me, more lost still. A ghost, living- no- pretending to live. My existence only lies and false smiles. A monster. A true monster who would have taken the life of that brave, kind girl. She who forgave even that sin.

I reached for the envelope that held her last letter and held it to my lips. Could she feel my thoughts, far away in the cozy home she shared with her little brother? Did she miss me as I missed her? It was selfish to hope so, or to wish any shadow over her gentle happiness. 

Even so, if the words of her last letter held a little more loneliness than before, or the stain at the bottom of the stationary was not a stray raindrop, but a tear. If the way her hand lingered on the back of my neck at our last meeting meant that she needed me as I did her… would I not be hurting her to be blind to her need? If she was too nervous to speak, was it not a gentleman’s duty to offer his hand? 

I gazed at the envelope, tracing her neat, girlish handwriting with a fingertip. The way she wrote my name reminded me of the way she spoke it when I forgot myself and let my hand caress her naked back in the dancing dress she wore to the palace ball. The way she trembled and clutched my shoulder… was it embarrassment or desire? Was I, who prided myself on human understanding, who had used this borrowed body and the physical desires of others to help fulfill my duties countless times, been so blind as to misread my beloved’s flushed face and breathless words? 

I shook my head and laughed bitterly. It was foolish, romantic nonsense. I was not a heroic young man like Lupin. I was no prince in a fairytale, or a romantic hero to sweep a maiden off her feet for a passionate tryst. What story tells of an old assassin who loves the gentle damsel he was meant to kill? What happy ending could an old sinner like me offer a strong, innocent girl like Miss Cardia? 

I closed my eyes against the pain in my chest. Despite that truth, she said she loved me. Of all the people she lived with in London, by far the least worthy. 

Her perfume on the stationary tickled my nose. Her scent was sweeter than any rose garden. I could see her in my mind’s eye, gazing into the distance, the sun dappling her face as it did the letter in my hand. Was she sad? Were there tears on her cheek right now? She also held a letter in her hand. I recognized my own stationary. Was she thinking of me? Was this pain hers as well? 

It had been nearly a month since her last visit. That time when her hand lingered and her goodbye kiss was longer and… more desperate, than before. Was I being foolish not to have acted then? Or was it just my own selfish desire clouding my judgement? 

I could hear my old friend Trismegistus laughing at me from wherever he was. My foolishness was not in doubt. It never had been. 

I rose from my cushions and tucked the letter into my robe. If I was such a coward that I would hesitate if there was even a possibility that she was sad or that her heart was hurting, I would never be worthy of being her lover. Even an old assassin has pride. 

“Please wait, Miss Cardia. I am coming for you.” I whispered with conviction into the empty room. 

…….

(Cardia)

‘…..I am coming for you.’ 

“Sister…? Hey…! Are you even listening?!” 

Finis’ harsh voice shattered my reverie. I thought, just for a moment, that I heard his voice in the breeze as I dozed off, felt his touch drying the tears that had fallen on my cheek.

“Huh?” I roused myself, “What is it?” 

Finis sighed in exasperation, “ I SAID TWICE that I’m going to need to stay in London for a few days to make sure those fools don’t set off anything in their idiocy and flatten the city!” 

“Oh… all right. I won’t wait up, then.” I stretched and rubbed my eyes. The letter fell from my lap. 

Finis looked down at the letter with a complicated expression, “I suppose it was inevitable.” he muttered, “We’ll talk about it later. I have to go back inside before that idiot Hansel eats everything in the house.” he stomped away in an unusually foul mood. 

“What has got into him?” I murmured, picking up the letter and gazing out over the garden. The season’s roses were especially good this year, perfuming the air with their soft fragrance. Butterflies flitted among the astors and marigolds. All was beautiful and calm. A serene place to read or sew, or just have a cup of tea and watch the butterflies. 

I would always cherish the warm, cozy home Finis and I had made of this sad place that had once meant only tragedy and endless loneliness to me. I thought our mom and dad would be happy to know that we reclaimed their dreams like this. 

Even so… 

I sighed, staring down at the letter in my hand. It just… wasn’t enough anymore to meet Saint for a few days at a time every month or two and exchange letters. I wanted to have breakfast with him every morning, I wanted to have tea in his study in the afternoon… to walk around London and go to the opera in the evening, or just to sit by his side and talk or read books. I wanted his presence… the touch of his cool, gentle hand on my back… his kisses every night before bed…

I trembled a little. I thought there was more I wanted, too. I had read about it in books; the strong feeling that grows between people who love each other that makes them crave a deeper connection. I wanted to know more about it, but it was just too embarrassing to ask anyone. 

I wondered if Saint felt like that about me, too. My heart raced to think about it. 

I stood up from my chair, gathering my tea cup and plate to wash in the kitchen.

I finished cleaning up, dusting and neatening. Then I went to my room to take a nap, but I wasn’t tired, so I went to the library to find a book to read. The days I was alone in the mansion sometimes reminded me too much of the endless days I spent there huddled in my chair waiting for father to retrieve me. That room was used for storage now, my new bedroom was in another part of the house with plenty of sunlight, nothing like that dark, cold room. I was nothing like that sad girl, denying her emotions and hiding away from a bewildering world that saw her only as a monster. 

I wasn’t a poisonous monster anymore. I could wear pretty clothes, sleep anywhere. I could touch whatever I wanted… flowers, books, the silky bathrobe I bought in London, the soft rose soap I found at a country market. Most of all, I could touch people. I could hug my brother and friends, I could feel the warmth of my loved one’s lips. I was living a life that seemed an impossible dream to me who used to sit clutching my knees in that musty room. 

It had been nearly a month since my last trip to London. It already seemed much too long since I saw Saint. His smile was even more beautiful than before, waiting at the gate to hug me and ask how my trip was. The light in his eyes was something new for him, too. The naturalness of his expressions. His grace and beauty were unchanged, but he had also become more than he was. He was kinder and quicker to laugh, more joyful, and vibrantly alive, and also quicker to cry and show sadness. I loved all of his expressions. The many ever-changing facets of him. I loved him more every time I saw him. 

Every time It was harder to leave, every time I returned I felt more homesick for the liveliness of London and the mansion where I became human. For the place Saint waited for me, and the arms of my beloved. 

I wandered aimlessly through the library, too unsettled to choose a book. I looked at the titles without really seeing them. I had read most of the books in the library, even all the new ones Finis and I had bought over the past two years. I idly ran my hand over the spines, thinking about Saint’s libraries and the many treasures they held. Everything from ancient knowledge to modern novels. Saint could never resist adding more books to his collections. I thought I would never exhaust the wonders they held. 

I turned away from the shelf, becoming frustrated by my wistfulness, when my eye was caught by a unfamiliar title tucked in a permanently shadowed corner of a shelf at the back of the library, “The Art of Love.” 

I picked it up curiously. It had no author listed. The red leather cover was embossed with a pair of ornate overlapped gold hearts. Most of this shelf held romantic novels and poetry books that had once belonged to my mother. Finis had little interest in anything there, so it was mostly left to me. 

I opened the book to an illustration… Of two naked people with their bodies entwined around each other and their lips pressed together. 

“Ah!” I gasped, nearly dropping it, before closing the cover in a hurry. 

I reached to return the book to its shelf, but hesitated. Isn’t this what I wanted to know? No one was home. I could read it without embarrassment and return it to the shelf before Finis came home. 

Deciding so, I took the book to my room, vowing to be sure to return it as soon as I finished. 

……..

(Saint)

I silently crept through the forest surrounding my beloved’s pleasant home. I caught the scent of her garden of roses in full bloom and had to stop myself from running to her door. My need to see her and hold her growing by the moment. I felt like a boy meeting a lover for a secret assignation. It was unseemly and foolish for an old man to act this way. I nearly turned back in shame more than once. It would be far more proper to send a note announcing my intent to visit, not inflict myself unasked and certainly unwanted by at least one of the household’s residents. 

Still, I continued, feeling my quest more urgently with every breath. I easily avoided Finis’ traps and alarms, proud that Lupin himself could have done no better. I had no wish to frighten Miss Cardia, but the desire to make a dramatic entrance was strong. I wanted to see her first before facing the understandable disdain and ire of her brother, if at all possible. 

The house ahead of me was almost completely dark. The only light a single lamp in an upstairs bedroom I thought to be Miss Cardia’s. I approached the front door like a civilized person before changing my mind and turning for a dark first floor window. 

I quickly disarmed the alarm and unlocked the window. If I were discovered and shot by Finis it would be just punishment for my rudeness. I only didn’t want to upset Miss Cardia. 

The house was dark and quiet, the ticking clock the only sound I heard. I wondered if Miss Cardia and Finis were away. She wrote that they stayed in town sometimes if they had a lot of shopping to do. I would feel suitably foolish if I were to have rushed out here to an empty house with two siblings out shopping happily. 

I closed my eyes for a moment to sense if anyone was present nearby. 

Yes… there it was. Just one presence upstairs. A precious, gentle warmth that could only belong to one person. 

I moved swiftly up the stairs. A ghost makes no sound when he wants to remain unheard. I could almost hear her breath, nearly smell her sweet perfume. 

God, what was becoming of me? 

I stopped at her door. My heart beating fast. Why was she alone in the house with such an untrustworthy visitor? Where was her staunch little protector in her time of need? What would she say when she saw me, unannounced and reckless as a boy. Would she be disgusted with me?

Cursing my foolishness, I raised my fist to knock on the door. 

…….

(Cardia)

I put the book aside firmly, having read it for the fourth time through. I felt hot and my nonexistent heart was pounding. I had never imagined that people could touch each other in so many different ways. It was embarrassing to think about some of them, but still… I wanted to feel those things the book described. I…. wanted to be touched like that. I wanted to… touch Saint like that. 

“Saint..” I whispered to the empty house, “Would you… touch me that way?” I felt even hotter at the thought. It was so embarrassing. I couldn’t imagine speaking those words to him.

I heard a sound outside my bedroom door and panicked. If Finis returned early I would be mortified! I couldn’t face him with all these strange new thoughts and feelings…

No… those weren’t Finis’ footsteps. That scent… clean and sweet, with something warmer underneath could only belong to one person. My heart leapt in my chest. I couldn’t imagine why he was there, as if summoned by my need to see and touch him. I rushed to the door, “Saint!” I cried, before throwing it open with a crash. 

He stood there looking stunned. It was another new expression for him. I filed it away in my heart. 

His brow creased with worry, “Cardia!? Is something wrong?”

“No, no! It is just… You’re here! You’re really…”

He gave me a radiant smile, “Yes. As I promised, I have co—“

That was all I needed. With a cry I leapt into his arms and pressed my lips against his. My unnatural body had never known hunger, but I thought vaguely that this must be what it felt like to be starving. 

He staggered from the force of my leap, but caught me firmly, kissing me with hunger to match mine, maybe more, though I couldn’t think very clearly just then. I only knew that I needed to feel his arms around me, his body against mine. I wanted all of him. I wanted to know everything he could teach me. 

“Cardia…” he said breathlessly when he finally pulled away, “That was… quite a welcome.” 

I felt my face get even hotter, “I missed you.” It wasn’t enough, but that was all I could think to say. 

His expression was profoundly kind, “I missed you, too.” he kissed my forehead, “with every thought,” he kissed my lips gently, “every breath,” he gently opened my robe and kissed my chest just below my horologium, “every heartbeat.”

I sighed to feel his lips between my breasts, his hair tickling my skin, “y-yes… Me too.” I was so nervous, “I…I need you, Saint. Will you… will you… please touch me a little more?”  

He gazed up at my face as if to gauge my meaning… or maybe my conviction, “Do you know what it means to ask that question of a man?”

I looked away, “I… I know I want you to touch me… e-everywhere, and I want to feel… more of you.” 

As expected, it was horribly embarrassing. 

His expression was as unreadable as when I first met him, but then he gave me his gentlest smile, “hehe. I understand. You don’t need to be embarrassed.” 

I thought that was easy for him to say. I watched him remove his jacket and hat, loving the grace of his movements, the care with which laid them on the chair. I knew if I thought about my brazen request, I would lose my nerve. It seemed so sudden, but it was building in my heart for a long time. 

“Oh… I see.” he said, smiling wryly while looking down at the table by the chair. 

My book, “The Art of Love,” lay closed on the table. 

I covered my face with my hands, feeling unbearably embarrassed, “Um… that is…”

“Hehe, I am relieved. I didn’t want to frighten you.” he kissed my ear, “I have a secret to tell you.” 

I looked up at him curiously, “What do you mean?” 

He didn’t reply, but his eyes sparkled mischievously as he leant down to scoop me up into his arms, “I’ve had the same wish as you, Miss Cardia. For a long, long time…”

I could hear the truth in his words and was relieved, I put my arms around his neck and pulled his face close to mine so I could kiss him again, “Then please… I want you to… touch me. Please.”

“Aha I am sorry not to have realized…” he pulled back, a new light in his eyes, ”It will be my pleasure, beloved lady.”

…..

(Saint)

…Truly, I do not deserve this happiness. 

I could feel her breathing begin to slow. Her small hand laid on my chest, as soft as flower petals. Her damp, tangled hair fell around her beautiful flushed face. Her eyes were already closed. 

I combed her silken hair with my fingers, gently untangling the knots, working carefully so as not to hurt her. It was unchivalrous to leave your lover’s hair a tangled mess, and allow her to cry with pain when her hair was brushed. 

That was also written in the book. 

“Hehe. Have I satisfied you so much that you are already asleep? I am deeply pleased.” I said when I finished with her hair. 

“Mmm…” she mumbled sleepily, cuddling against my chest, “I am… very happy…”

I kissed her forehead, “I am relieved that you are happy, Cardia. That was my only wish.”

She smiled shyly, “I hope… you feel good, too. And… please…” she closed her eyes, “I want to stay with you from now on. If… if you still want me to come to London.” 

I felt tears come to my eyes at her soft, uncertain declaration. At the way her hand clutched my arm as if she was afraid I would refuse. I knew that I should have distanced myself from her. I should have encouraged her to seek love from one better able to give it to her unconditionally. Someone without the weight of my duties and past…but I was too weak… too selfish for such an act. I was completely unworthy of the priceless gift she gave me from her innocent desire to know love and touch, but to refuse now was unthinkable. I would show her in the time to come, for however many years we were allowed together, how happy she made me. How she had saved me from endless darkness and suffering. I vowed in my soul, more strongly than any vow I had ever taken, to protect her light, to nurture it and hold it close. I would become worthy of the honor of this joy, of the softness and sweetness she offered to me alone. If I could use all I learned to nurture and protect her precious life, to bring pleasure to her delicate body, more beautiful than any jewel, I would consider all of the sorrow and suffering worth the cost. 

“Saint? Are you crying? Is everything all right?” 

I hugged her tightly, not bothering to try to stop the tears, “I am… overwhelmed to hear you say those words. I promised myself to respect your time with family, and not to interfere with your wish to stay here with your brother.” I held her head against my shoulder, “If you are ready… I am overjoyed for you to come home with me.” I took a breath, feeling unaccustomedly nervous to say words I had never spoken, “Will you please marry me, Miss Cardia?”

She pulled back. Her beautiful eyes were adorably shocked, “Marry…?”

I laughed through the tears that still wouldn’t stop, “Yes, I want to marry you. Did the book not say that the joining of bodies was the most profound intimate expression of love? Is marriage not the public declaration of the same?” 

Her innocent face passed from shock to joy, “Yes! I will marry you, Saint!” she hugged me tightly, then pulled back frowning a little, “Didn’t the book say lovemaking was supposed to happen after marriage?”

“Hehe. You seemed much too impatient to wait.” I kissed her, “I made a vow to you in my heart a long time ago. We will speak our vows before God. We will celebrate our love with our friends… this…” I kissed the pure crystal flower on her chest, “is our vow to each other. It is our own intimate promise to be repeated many, many times.” I lightly stroked her back, “It will only get better… so much better… from now on.”

It was difficult to speak seductively while weeping. I thought I must seem a fool.

She reached to tenderly wipe my tears away with her slender fingers, “I-I think that is impossible…!” 

“Hehe. It is true.” I took her face between my hands and kissed her trembling lips slowly, “This is only the beginning.” 

I delighted in how soft and gentle her kisses were, how she shivered when I let my tongue mingle with hers. Yes… it was certainly only the beginning.

We were both gasping when we finally parted. After a few moments she gave me a suspicious expression, “Saint… you said earlier that you had a secret. What was it?” 

I smiled in a way I hoped was enigmatic, although I was afraid that skill was beyond me at that time, “Ah… yes. I have told you much about my secret throughout the night.” 

She blushed so prettily, “It is… the book. You wrote it, didn’t you?” 

I laughed at the sternness of her expression, impressed that she figured it out despite all I had done to distract her, “Ah, you are right. I did indeed write it.” I picked it up off the nightstand, “As you see, there are many more chapters than those I showed you tonight…” I paged through the book I had written over seven hundred years ago, “I think that deserves a reward, perhaps chapter… 17?” 

“Chapter…. Oh!”

I put the book back on the table and took my precious lover in my arms, “Hehe. As I said, we have only just begun.” 

Yay! With great pleasure! 

These asks are related to my Contemporary AU fic “Quintessence” which I still need to write a proper summary for and post publically. (It is available on request if you don’t mind a description instead of a truly elegant summary.) It follows the reborn soul of Cardia and the decendents of the Lupin Gang (along with the immortal and long lived members of the Gang.) Since only two people have read it so far, I’m putting this behind a cut. 

Of course! I am ALWAYS happy to answer things about Miss Cardia Blackwell!

4: How do you get into your OC’s mindset to write for them? How do you find the muse for them?

I don’t do anything special. I play my giant Quintessence playlist and do a lot of plotting while I’m getting ready. Sometimes I’ll read quotes and look at pictures of libraries.

7: What does your OC look for in a friend? Do they value friendship a lot?

Cardia can be a little hard to get close to at first, and doesn’t have many friends, but the ones she she is close to those she has. Her friends tend to be studious and and scholarly types she can easily share ideas with. She loves to share ideas and knowledge, but is a little uncomfortable sharing anything too personal, except with her closest friend and alchemy mentor Professor Gordon. The ease in which she is able to relate to the Lupin Gang is a little unusual for her.

9: What is your OC like when at work? Are they diligent? Slacker? Do they get along with their co-workers?

Cardia is solitary, intense and focused in the laboratory. Her classmates and professors nicknamed her “the old Hermit.” She is enthusiastic and helpful in the bookstore, though. Her passionate love of old books is infectious, and her boss and coworkers all loved working with her.

13: Do they have any favourite foods? Would they eat it all the time if they had the chance? What do they hate to eat?

She loves pineapple. She’s definitely a pineapple on pizza girl! She would eat chocolate covered pineapple forever. She likes fruit in general, it is rare that she doesn’t have a bag of chocolate covered fruit with her. She could cook as well as most alchemists because she understands how the flavors mix together and change. (Cooking is basically alchemy 101.) But as a distracted college student she tends towards whatever is easy. Pizza, sandwiches, fruit salad, and similar. And, yes, she loves chocolate as much as the next girl. She doesn’t like raw onions or garlic as they upset her stomach, and doesn’t like the taste of lobster or shrimp.

20: What are Tropes you associate with your muse?

This was hilarious. I went to the Tropes site to look and today’s Featured Trope is the Identical Grandchild! Um…. yeah, that’s true! Cardia Blackwell isn’t identical to Cardia Beckford, but they share the same soul and have found themselves in the same situation!

My roots are in epic fantasy. There’s no way a host of related tropes didn’t find their way in this story. Specific to Cardia: The hero(ine)’s journey is definitely present, a prophesied chosen one, unknown powers, the reincarnated soul, evil father, daddy issues, unknown identity, Nerdy girl helps save the world with science (dunno if that’s a trope, but it should be), Star crossed lovers, magic vs. science, conceived for nefarious purposes, GIRL MEETS MYSTERIOUS STRANGER WHO CHANGES HER LIFE FOREVER, entwined souls, nerdy girl’s best friend is a quirky sexy witch… actually is that a trope?, tragic past…. ugh don’t know if this a good thing???

23: Any ships for your OC?:

Sure! Thank you for asking! I will go with Cardia Blackwell.

1: Origins! How did you come up with the concept for your OC?

The fic Quintessence began as a short piece of self indulgent nonsense I was going to write for myself for fun. But then… I just kept thinking… What If? There are so many opportunities for bad ends in Code Realize. The nature of games allows for endless possible futures.

So… what if the worst DID happen? What if the world was saved but Cardia wasn’t? What would become of those left behind to pick up the pieces of their lives? How would the legacy of the failure to save Cardia weigh on the future generations of the Lupin Gang?

What if you take the concept of a philosopher’s stone further… the true goal of creating a philosopher’s stone is the creation of a soul. According to various characters Isaac fell short of that goal with Cardia. A true philosopher’s stone is only complete if it passes through death and returns. So, what sort of person would a completed philosopher’s stone be?

What would happen to a Saint forced to make the ultimate sacrifice? How would he react when he recognized the immature, innocent spirit he loved and lost, now fully realized and looking at him through different eyes? What if she was still a danger and an object of desire for those with evil purposes? What would his choices be if given a second chance?

There were so many questions I wanted to answer that I had to write Cardia Blackwell and find out the answers!

(… I might be halfway to a summary…)

12: What scent calms them? Reminds them of home or something soothing?

Cardia wears a rose and amber perfume oil when she wants to feel calm and confident. But by FAR, her favorite scent, and the one that soothes her when she is feeling most stressed and anxious, is that of old books and libraries. She worked in an antiquarian bookstore and one of the reasons she loved working there so much was the smell of the shop. When she was a young girl, the sweet, resinous scent of her cat’s fur was incredibly soothing to her.

16: What are concepts they value? Virtues? What do they look down upon?

Ms. Blackwell would tell you she values… Truth above all. Wisdom, knowledge for its own sake, a theory of alchemy that combines both the subtle science of magic and the physical realities of science… and so on. That’s the Cardia she aspires to be. A destroyer of illusions and revealer of truth. There is a LOT of Isaac Beckford in her. She’s probably closer to healthy Isaac than homunculus Cardia. She shares his genius and many of his dreams and goals. (before his madness)