vindvin

[vindvin]

pov you’re third wheeling ♡

[vindvin]

; as they spin.

she moved like a dream on a river – always blurred by an everlasting desire to excel. she embraced her ephemerality, her disease, her – her. he watched her dance all day, all night – he would not sleep, he does not sleep. his eyes watched her feet levitate above the ground, his lips would hum to the tune – his ears would turn away from the horrible screams. in his eyes, there was only but beauty surrounding the disgraceful ballerina, the one who gave him butterflies. and he stepped closer, he allowed her to see his face in the light – no face. he is a blurred reality, he is the nightmare everyone wishes to forget, he is there when you do not want him there. his gracefulness, his gallant moves, his prince-like posture fooled her – they fool everyone. and when they danced closer, when he held her tighter – wings of darkness sprouted over her face. a terror-driven embrace, a horrid sight of sightlessness – he was no prince charming, he was nothing but void and darkness.

Keep reading

[vindvin]

օƒ ցօӀժ ąղժ çɾìʍʂօղ.

ʂհҽ was really like a storm in the middle of the night – always surprising with a wave of thunder, and lightning. he did not show it, but her abrupt appearance in the room disturbed his brief moment of peace. he did not expect her to sit next to him, most people would get as far away as possible. some girls would even take the far end of the table, and let him observe them. the servants did what they had to do, and aloysius just enjoyed his drink. he was calm, and slow – he liked to indulge. he guessed she must have been hungry, she has been running around and dancing. roderick’s snarky comments made aloysius look at him – the portrait zipped his lips the second the stern look met him. aloysius lifted a hand politely, he dismissed chai’s offer. despite the close dance they had, aloysius was incredibly picky when it came to skin to skin contact, and hell forbid, affection. he was a cold wall after all – his moments of openness were deceiving. 

“enjoy your meal, chai. while you are at it, I should tell you a story,” aloysius moved his chair back, sliding out of his seat. he started pacing around with the glass in his hand. he did not necessarily wanted her eyes to follow. he believed his stories were effective if he moved around – and his moves were graceful. he was a sight at all times – even when killing. and he wanted her to eat her meal in peace – he never ate much human food anyways. “story time, everyone!” roderick bellowed, and surprisingly aloysius did not say anything. he was used to such behaviour, and he knew that his stories were always the highlight of the day. the portraits woke up and looked at aloysius, some observed chai. but nobody talked, well, roderick was an exception. he was skipping in his frame, trying to show as much excitement as possible. “which one are you telling tonight, sire? is it the one with-“ “shut up, boy,” an elderly man scowled at roderick, and the boy stuck his tongue out at him. aloysius looked at roderick, and then at chai. the resemblance was uncanny. roderick too was stuck in his teens, and it showed – he liked games, he liked to play around, and aloysius could tell he liked chai. “you must know by now that this is not an ordinary place,” aloysius started and roderick cupped his cheeks, listening attentively. the servants and maids were also listening closely, trying not to intrude. only two maids were at chai’s side, tending to her every needs. if she had something on her cheek, they would wipe it away. because a lady should always look proper in front of a man like him. “this one’s good, listen, listen, listen,” roderick said excitedly, he spun once, and locked his gaze on aloysius. his master moved closer to a bookshelf that was across chai – he did not want her to be too distracted from her food. “clarisse, if you are kind,” he said with a smile. the bookshelf threw up pages, and they levitated, spinning around aloysius. they were written in a gothic script, hard to decipher. aloysius memorised the story, but the pages added a visual effect he did not wish to lose – he loved showing off after all. roderick almost squeaked, but he stopped himself from screaming of joy. “time does not exist in this place. you could call it a beacon, a phantom castle, the edge of the world, the purgatory – it has had many names across centuries. it captures time in a way mortals could never understand it. as days pass, you will feel weaker, older. and indeed, you grow older quicker within its walls. this one day we spent together,” he paused for suspense. one of the pages flew closer to chai, folding itself into a dove. “has covered a month of your time. the outsiders have lived without you for a month,” aloysius continued, and the dove circled chai gracefully. aloysius opened his palm, and another page folded in a rose. “mortals never understand the beauty of timelessness. immortality is a gift and a curse. living with time is tiresome, daunting, and absolutely unnecessary. you do not have to worry about time here, chai. clocks do not work the way you expect them to. they will trick you, they will tail you, they will taunt you. it is your human essence that will make you seek them and wonder how much longer you have to wait until your end.” roderick looked at chai worried, aloysius told the story to every new girl on their first day. it was the beginning of the end. his master had a time frame set for every girl, depending on how much they impressed him. sometimes he would slay them at the dinner table, forcing every eavesdropper to hear the screams of agony and pain. sometimes he gave them a few days, rarely did the days exceed seven. after a week, in human time seven months, he would grow bored and tired of keeping them around. roderick could not remember the last time a girl lasted for a week. “tonight’s story will not be long, I am afraid,” he said and crashed the rose in his hand. two seconds after he spoke, there was a banging at the door. aloysius looked displeased, he did not like to be disturbed like that, he really did enjoy taking eternity to speak – he had that long. “straight to the point then. you have twelve days, chai. one year with me, in your time. you are allowed to explore everything but my chamber. do not disturb me, do not intrude, do not break my privacy. if you do, I will cut your days. now, if you excuse me, I have some hounds to dispose of,” he let the pages return to their place, only the dove stuck around chai. aloysius walked towards the door, and as he did, a wall of mist blocked the exit. the dining room was no longer able to see, or hear him, but he was there. “your town’s really nosy,” roderick scoffed and looked at chai in disgust – only because he associated her with the common folk. “so what if our master is cruel, and brutal, and a bloody-“ “boy, hold your tongue,” the elderly portrait warned, but roderick was on fire. the servants were looking incredibly worried, and anxious. what if aloysius hears? of course he will hear. “shut up, old crone,” roderick hissed and looked at chai. “hold your tongue, you brat!” a girl in a portrait screeched at roderick. “a bloody vampire. he’s a vampire. there, I said it. she’ll find out soon anyways, wait for it,” roderick stopped for dramatic effect, he knew what was coming. and sure enough, the sight did not disappoint. a man crawled out of the mist, his neck bleeding, his hand reaching out. he mouthed ‘help me’, but before he could say anything else, something, or rather someone, dragged him back in the mist. his scream was unheard by everyone but aloysius.

--- ( @thegildedone​ )

[vindvin]

օƒ ցօӀժ ąղժ çɾìʍʂօղ.

𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖎𝖓 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖕𝖝𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖋𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖙.

two months worth of writing, this thread encompasses most.

pxssionfruit/thegildedone ; Chailee's hands were bunched into fists of rage at her sides as she refrained herself from lashing out at the commotion that had overtaken the townsquare. A shoe flew past her head, falling miserably when it didn't hit it's supposed target of her father who stood in the midst of it all, his arms raised as he preached on. A snort slipped past her mouth and it only earned her a glare from the man in front of her. And soon enough, the poker face was back, her ears perking up at the mention of the catastrophe that caused the whole town to gather. Oh, how she'd love for it to be for a feast instead of the issue at hand. "It must be done! A virgin girl or the whole town will perish! We have no choice!" her father, Robert exclaimed in an exasperated tone which did nothing to reassure the frenzied town since he only got shouts and yells and another surge of shoe hits. Chailee remembered the story and lore about how a girl would be dolled pompously and be sent off amidst a flutter of flowers and tears to the mansion that sat atop the hill to the monster that lived there, never to be seen again. It was the tale that got children to scamper to bed every evening, the kind to even make grown men shiver in their worn boots and the old women to whisper and add more than necessary spices to the story. The antagonists of the stories differed all the time; some said he was just a cruel man who wanted a harem of young girls, some imagined a fearsome diety who was always famished and liked feasting on the souls of virgins and so on. She'd never believed in any of it... until now, that is. Even then, it was just a speck of doubt that had nestled itself in her mind. "We can't let our daughters be sacrificed to such evil anymore!" a woman screeched, causing Chailee to snap out of her reverie. Dark gaze followed the span of the crowd to land of the stout woman who had called out. From her spot, Chailee could notice the tear streaks that had stained Mrs. Lee's plump and red face, the woman a haphazard mess as she pushed forward so she could stand face to face with Robert. The girl who was no older than 16 summers thought back to the time when the town had such meeting again; it was 10 years ago and she was just a tiny little creature, clinging onto her father's leg in fear as the crowded kept shouting again. Back then, it was Mrs. Lee's daughter who was sacrificed. Bone chilling horror was quick to settle in Chailee's body when she realized that Bethany had been the same age as she was now. She was quick to gauge the situation; there were several other girls of the same age and they were all considered at the ripest time to live their lives, marriage ensuing soon for most. The ongoing argument would soon dwindle down to select the lamb and it was only a matter of time before the girl was gone and life would resume again for everyone else. Sure, the occasional prayer of remembrance would take place but really, no one would care for another ten years or so. It had to stop. For the sake of all of their futures. Chailee's feet moved on their own accord, small yet lithe frame pushing past the people in front to get to the front, her face composed in relaxed resilience. Or maybe, defiance was the more appropriate term. "I volunteer." She spoke, tone loud and calm as if waiting for the impending loom of the storm. The crowd quieted down in shock, her father staring back absolutely flabbergasted. It was strange how she found the way his mouth fell open and closed like a fish as he tried to find the words to take sense into her funny. But there was no talking the girl back. "Do not stop me, father. I should be no different than any other girl here. Please." There was no argument after that. Instead, the crowd dissipated to get the preparations of the farewell done. She knew what would follow; prayers to bid her goodbye and a safe journey (though she didn't know whether it was to the mansion or to the afterlife), feasts to fatten her up, bathes and pampering to make sure she looked the part of a pretty lamb. She had always been sure it was an act and never one for fanfare, she'd made up her mind. In two days, she would be sent off on the lonely path to the haunted mansion but Chailee had other plans. She left that very night, quiet and clad in the simplest of outfit of trousers and a shirt. They were the clothes of a man, much less one of a young woman but she didn't care. She'd filled her burlap bag with her favorite books and armed herself with her father's sickle just in case and off she was, on her way to her doom with the tune of the local lullaby on her lips.

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venitempus/vindvin ;

all good stories begin with ‘once upon a time’ and end with ‘happily ever after’. his once upon a time started in 1401, when a silly little boy decided to play with a witty old hag. still a teenager back then, he believed his charm, his promise of love, and his adoring gaze would be enough to make her bless him forever. he loved living, and wanted to live forever – she loved him, so she granted his wish. but, when she was preparing her potion, she saw – he was holding another. enraged, and betrayed she made sure his ‘forever after’ would be filled with pain, and suffering. so much pain that he would wish he was dead, but he would never be able to die. a bitter heart brings about a bitter life – and with the taste of iron on his lips, he succumbed to his deepest, narcissistic desires. centuries melted in a pot – all that hatred, that rage, that unfathomable hunger. he has lived through it all, over and over again. it was his curse to fall, and rise with the tide, it was his demeanour that made him a monster, that made him impossible to look at. his fangs so sharp, they would tear anything apart – and they did. when he stepped out of the shadows people would quiver, their pale bodies would crumble – in an unexplainable worship, infatuation, admiration. beauty was his curse. and blood was a cure he could not afford – the price of life for his immortality, he paid it even when he did not want to. he tore everyone apart – their hearts meant nothing to him, his own was stone cold. his ‘happily ever after’ ended when the first drip of blood coated his sinful tongue. his handsome features did not wilt over eons of suffering, and his oh-so-sweet smile never perished in front of a challenge – the witch did not take away the one thing she fell for. he must admit, after centuries of fun, being stuck in a castle was quite boring, to the point that he would do anything for a little entertainment. this era was disobedient, they casted him out like a stranger – even though he owned them, he was their rightful ruler. he was forced to inflict pain and fear from afar, he was obliged to hide his face from them – and what a pity it was, for his eyes were truly mesmerising. he could not hide for long, though. so he invented the cursed terms – he wanted his fun, so he asked for a new companion every year. a young girl would be sent off to visit the mysterious dark castle, and she almost always arrived on a stormy night. seeking warmth, quivering in fear – she would step inside never to be seen again. he did create the myth of it all quite well, his servants mingled with the public and spread rumours, rumours turned into a cry for help. but he was not really interested in stripping these maidens, or taking them forcefully. that was rather disgusting to him – although, they always ended up begging to be taken. his purpose was another, he wanted to have someone that could challenge him intellectually, that could put up with his moods, his wit, his temperament – someone he could make his companion for life. he was rather lonely, and as mentioned, very bored. but all girls who ended up in his company were either too scared, or too promiscuous. so what can a poor vampire do when his prey does not behave? of course he had to kill them, one by one. *** “sire,” a man entered, quivering from head to foot, covered in water. it was a stormy night, and aloysius was stuck inside yet again, obliged to watch the drops of water wash his immense windows, draping his legs over his throne’s armrests. with a bored expression, and a frown that would tell anyone to ‘cut their story short’, aloysius addresses his subject. “what is the matter now, latrell?” his gaze drifted, as a small object caught his interest. it was shining in the old man’s hands, and he put an effort into hiding it. aloysius’ smirk grew, and in a swift movement, he was in front of the old man, startling him with his speed. “s-sire, I-“ aloysius pressed a finger over his lips to keep him quiet. the man’s face turned red, and he wanted to scurry away quickly. he grabbed the silver dagger from the man’s hands with a twisted smile, playing with it like it was a toy. “are you trying to kill me? how exciting, latrell! but you have to do better than this, really,” his smirk grew wider, he leaned in to whisper in his ear. his voice deeper, and emotionless. “silver does not kill me, but it sure kills a silly human,” aloysius pressed the dagger against the man’s chest, watching him gasp for air with a smile. he pushed the dagger in, the man stopped breathing. after he dropped dead, aloysius stepped over his body and walked away, still bored out of his mind. “thank you for trying, marley. but that was rather anticlimactic. make sure his blood is collected, just in case,” he glanced at is humble servant, a young boy with mousy features. he was head over heels in love with aloysius, and obeyed his every wish. nobody inside the castle liked it when their master was bored, he tended to lash out. so sending ‘hunters’ in was one way to entertain him – and usually they would send more experienced hunters, some that put up a fight. now, those were exciting to kill. *** the big day has arrived, and aloyisus was up early. he hated the sun, and because of his curse, he could not really touch it – it would burn him, but not kill him, so what was the point? he dressed up elegantly, and debated whether he should wear the golden mask, or the black one – he decided gold. he enjoyed hiding his face at the first encounter, he was well-aware that his good looks could charm anyone into submission – and he liked a challenge, he enjoyed it when they squirmed and screamed. when the night fell, he was ready to welcome his new victim. he waited, his servants were around him looking elegant, and put together. aloyisus was towering over all of them, he was rather tall – it made him look more intimidating. when the knock on the door came, aloyisus smirked. he let his servants answer, waiting at the top of the stairs, like a lion awaits its doe. he looked like a masterpiece – the inside of the castle embracing his flawless appearance. it was paradise – and it was hell. the perfect in-between, the home of lost innocence.

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pxssionfruit/thegildedone ;

Chailee had no idea how long she was walking for; all she knew was that the biting cold of the night had started settling over her bones, causing her to shiver despite the line of sweat that had started to appear over her flesh. Goosebumps rose on her skin, her breath slipping out of her mouth in a mist that just melted and disappeared into the fog. The moon had rose into the sky, the wide silver saucer illuminating her path to the haunted castle. There was no speck of stars, nor was there a trace of cloud. It felt ominous, as if the impending loom was not enough to scare her wits off. No, she wouldn't be scared. She snorted another burst of warm cloud and paused her steps, head tilted back to watch the moon for a moment. It was an ugly thing, scarred and imperfect yet it always looked down on the world in what she thought was a dauntingly mocking smile. Her eyes narrowed into little slits as she gazed at it; there were thousands of folklore that surrounded the moon just like how the monster who lived atop the hill was in the middle of others and she had never been one to believe in them. To Chailee, it was always just one moon. That familiar, yellow, solitary moon. The same moon that silently floated over fields of pampas grass, the moon that rose -a gleaming, round saucer- over the calm surface of lakes, that tranquilly beamed down on the rooftops of fast-asleep houses. The same moon that brought the high tide to shore, that softly shone on the fur of animals and enveloped and protected travelers at night. The moon that, as a crescent, shaved slivers from the soul- or, as a new moon, silently bathed the earth in its own loneliness. And she wondered if just like the moon, the monster was lonely. Just as hideous, sinister and mischief filled yet so protective. Sucking on her inner cheek, she resumed her journey, fingers finding the strap of her burlap bag to keep close.The trek to the foot of the hill was a short one, given how the village was small but the moment she'd reached, she was intimidated by how it towered over her, feeling as small as ever. Swallowing her fear, she went on. And as the time passed, the fog grew thicker. So did the stench that rose from the ground. It was mostly the fecal remains of the stray animals, trash that had been disposed carelessly into piles but underlining everything else was something more potent and the cold only made the stench stronger. Chailee could taste it on her tongue and she forced herself to bite back the bile that rose in her throat, eyebrows furrowed with focus. It was a perilous walk, her breath labored as she stumbled on rocky ground that had been littered with several things she had no heart or mind to find out about. She'd fallen to her knees several times, dirt among other things crusting her boots and trousers and when she raised her hand to wipe the sweat off her face, she smeared murky liquid on her caramel skin. At that point, she was sure she was stinking as bad as the hill itself, knowing she looked like a mess. She was regretting not waiting further so that the rest of the villagers would help her up but it was too late; she was on her own. She didn't know what time it was, nor did she have an inclination of how long it took her to reach the top, her destination barely a couple of feet away. From up close, it looked like a castle instead of a manor or a house so many people had called it. It felt like a fortress too, with arcs that disappeared way over her head and poles that seemed to disappear into the sky. Chailee felt insignificant standing at the foot of the steps that led to the porch and discarding the stick she'd picked up earlier to help herself, she climbed up, almost flinching at the way the wood groaned under her weight. She couldn't flee now, nor was she going to allow herself to be scared. Swallowing thickly, she raised her fist to rap thrice on the wooden door which caused it to creak open under one particular knock. As it heavily swung open, her steps slowed down as she took her first step in. "H-hello?" she hadn't expected her tone to come out in such a mousy squeak so squaring her shoulders and stepping further into the foyer. "Hello? Anybody home?" This time her voice echoed off the walls of the castle, bouncing off the corners and into the dark hallways. It was fascinating to say the least, how her normally huskier tone could sound so hollow and as the echo increased, it got deeper as if it were a monstrous groan who gave her a reply. They came in like some sort of pageantry formation, aligned and barely making a noise. Her breath hitched in her throat and she involuntarily took a step back but halted, figuring from their decent clothes, they were simply servants. They couldn't hurt her, right? The brief thought of taking out the sickle in her bag passed through her mind until one of them spoke, the man in the middle who bowed his head to her as if she was some sort of reality. "Welcome, Miss. My name is Marley and please, you have no reason to fear being here." Chailee wasn't sure if she heard him correctly, his words earning an arched brow. Sure, she had no fear. But figuring that a snarky quip would do her more harm than good, she nodded and composed her face into what she hoped to be a serene smile. It just came off as awkward and toothy. Marley nodded, gesturing the other servants to make way before he motioned for her to follow him. And she did, eyes wide as she took in the sight of the somewhat grandiose castle. Despite it's dark and morose decor, it was calming and aloof. Definitely a juxtaposition from the colorful ways of the village she was from. Her visage had contorted into one of awe as she took everything in, not having realized that they had stopped only coming to a standstill the moment dark gaze fell onto the man who stood at the top of the grande staircase. He exuded power, even from where she stood. The kind who preyed on the weaker ones. Yet somehow, the light of the moon that burst through the windows behind him enveloped the man in some sort of ethereal glow. She remembered a phrase from that one particular book of preaches her father read about one particular being so beautiful that he was cast from the skies. Or something along the lines. She hadn't been keen on reading that one honestly. But supposedly if this man was what she had read about in her father's book, why was he wearing such a grotesque thing over his face? Couldn't be. Her breath came out in a mild scoff as she took a step forward, shoulder brushing against Marley's who just cowered in fear in front of the man. Chailee's face was serene even if her eyes were hard, the tilt of her jaw defiant and stubborn. "Hello. My name is Chai," she spoke, tone loud and clear as she came to a stand at the foot of the stairs he stood on. Her tongue snuck out to swipe across her bottom tier, realising she was parched but went on whatsoever. "Would you mind if you took your mask off? I might as well see the face of the one who is going to eat me, right?"

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venitempus/vindvin ;

❝ And all with pearl and ruby glowing Was the fair palace door, Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing And sparkling evermore, A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty Was but to sing, In voices of surpassing beauty, The wit and wisdom of their king.* it was once a castle filled with laughter, and bright light – the rooms would embraced splendour, they would bathe all eyes in crystals, and gold. and with every step, every spin, one could get drunk in its glory – people praised it for days to no end. it was once lively, it was once paradise. it still was incredibly charming --- within the massive walls of the gothic castle, there was beauty contained only but in its colour – richly decorated, a masterpiece for everyone who was lucky enough to see it. the interior was vast, and tall – it almost got lost in the moonlight, the eye could not grasp just how much it entailed. the drapes were scarlet, made of velvet – they did not cover the intriguing windows, lavishly ornamented with delicate orchids. the rose wood was a staple piece in the hallway – the stairs, the balustrade, the occasional wood figurines. the floor squeaked – it was old, history ate at it, the scent of old wood was wrapping the entire room. pillars carved with love, uniquely disproportioned – all gothic art found its beauty in inaccuracy, in immense and pompous decorations. there were renaissance-style paintings framed in gold hanging, of men and women who looked like they have been around for a while. the brush strokes mimicked those of masterful artists like michaelangelo. they were forced to stare at the doorway – and from the ceiling hung a marvellous golden chandelier. the consistent orchid-pattern held in the golden swirls, the light was dim and pleasant, enough to support the room’s glory. old books were arranged on small shelves – their spines colour-coded, fading from a pale red, to a deep red. ❝ But evil things, in robes of sorrow, Assailed the monarch’s high estate; (Ah, let us mourn!—for never morrow Shall dawn upon him, desolate!) And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed.* --- but death clung on its drapes, death crept in, death reached its claws, death was craved in its wood. they stopped coming – guests hated death’s breath. and the once glorious castle stood solitary on a hill, it told the story of the rise and fall, the tide of life – and its towers reached the sky, its inside was hollow. it collapse in its breath-taking excellence, embraced the shadows of evil, absorbed the blood, filled the void with nothingness. it was empty, and broken. just like his heart. ⚜⚜⚜ when he stepped down the stairs, he looked as though he was floating – so flawlessly did his steps embrace the crimson carpet, and the wooden floor. his hands were behind his back, the golden mask obscured his smirk – it was creepily staring at everything around. he was elegant – perhaps not the first thing one expects from a supposed ‘monster’. he looked more like a prince than an evil beast, his white shirt and dark pants made him stand out in the sea of burgundy. his clothes were perfectly fitted for him – no doubt a personal tailor fashioned them for him, and only for him. his servants bowed in obedience, they did not like to keep their heads up when he passed by – his musky scent made them painfully loyal, and terribly scared. there was something off about the way he moved his hands, his pale fingers extending to fold gracefully, falling on his chest as he bowed to welcome his guest. aloysius took his time observing the girl, he did not move from his spot – he was closer now, yet not close enough. there was distance between them, his cold eyes analysed every single muscle in her body. it was impossible for any detail to escape his keen eye – the way she clenched her hands, her neck, her attire, her young face, her neck. yes, she did have a pretty neck – young, firm, pale. he resisted his beastly thirst, and thankfully she could not see his fangs peeking through. other than that, she looked awfully normal, almost boringly so. aloysius struggled to keep his attention on her, she did not promise anything different – it took him a moment to spot the object peeking out of her bag. now, that was interesting. girls hated weapons – he knew that much, especially young ones like her. they adored the ornate dresses, the beautiful stockings their parents forced them to wear. but she had none of the astonishing decorations victorians praised themselves for – she almost looked like a man. he wanted to dissect her, dig deep into her mind and find out just why she choose to look like this on her funeral. it was bugging him, so much so that he decided he shall let her live for now. even if she was carrying a weapon. “sire, I’m sorry, w-we didn’t-“ a servant, who just noticed the weapon, stuttered and tried to approach aloysius. his master cut him off, raising a hand to stop him from walking. it was a sudden movement, and it made the servant step back, almost stumbling over his own feet. two female servants came to his aid. the movement behind did not bother aloysius, as if he could see everything despite not looking. “that would be enough,” he said, his voice pleasantly melodious. there was an undistinguishable accent coating every word, and it did made the servant gulp. aloysius did not tolerate mistakes, his generosity made marley look at the girl in a last dying hope. but he looked away quickly, not wanting to be discovered. aloysius stepped closer, allowing his presence to crash into her like a wave – he got close enough to be indecent. he looked at her for a while, before speaking. “I do not think chai wishes to be hostile,” his voice almost sounded commanding. he did not care for her wishes, it was his will she shall obey. he made it seem lighter by taking a step back, and by letting out a short chuckle. “silly of me, I should have known you are not an admirer of art,” he did not mean to sound superior – well, perhaps he did. his ego was as big as his --- personality. and he felt at an advantage as a species. he slowly removed the mask, revealing his handsome features. his face was immediately caressed by the soft light, and his lips curled into a sweet smile, almost too blissful and alluring. “I have no clue what stories you heard in the village, but I surely do not eat my guests. my name is aloysius, and whilst you are here, you may make yourself at home. of course, there will be rules. I am sure I can count on you to be as pleasant a guest as I will be a host,” and with that he stepped away, walking towards the living room. he uttered a last command before disappearing from view. “give her some decent clothes, will you?” it was a signal for his servants to approach the girl. an older lady bowed respectfully, and offered to carry her bag. marley seemed quite excited. “madame, I think our lord likes you. he is not usually like this,” he said hopefully, as if he was not quite sure about what he was saying. he knew aloysius’ hearing was sharper than any human’s, so he tried not to insult, or give away too much. the servants followed his steps, and marley made sure to stick as close as possible. they led her upstairs – supposedly her room was there. -- *notes // fragments from e. a. poe’s poem the haunted palace: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/52370/the-haunted-palace mask inspiration: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/43/38/e7/4338e77728edfae8350869d39a8ab6c6.jpg aloysius’ outfit inspiration: https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EWYRy1tU8AwjaRq?format=jpg&;name=large interior inspiration: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/1b/9f/93/1b9f9355cdd17cacb85d0e1080663ed1.jpg

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pxssionfruit/thegildedone ;

The castle was a morose place in it’s beauty- grim and underlying of darkness in the way the shadows seemed to be dancing in a whimsical rhythm in the moonlight and how every corner seemed to be hide beasts that willed their preys into their arms. Chai was quick to take everything in; how the servants easily fell to his will and command and how their eyes had a glazed look in them, unfocused yet still at their own will. It was fascinating but she was more intrigued by the man. He moved with stealthy grace. It looked like he was floating above the ground, his body barely contorting in the way a human would move as if a single motion would disrupt the perfection and elegance he carried himself with. She didn’t realize she’d kept a breathe pent in her throat until he spoke and she released it in a huff of warm air, gaze flitting to the servant who cowered in fear. It was funny how the mundane stumbled over his own feet, such a stark contrast to the man who stood atop the staircase. A chuckle slipped past Chai before she even realized it and she would have laughed at the sight had it not been for the mocking tone that resounded next. Thick eyebrows furrowed together trying to decipher whether the man was serious, the mocking tone that underlaid the otherwise generous words that spilled out of him taking her aback. He spoke with charm and grace but there was a hint of taunt in there, as if he was superior than the rest of them. Then again, he probably was, given how his monstrous beauty wasn't mundane in the least bit. She'd never taken commands well, even back in the village but realizing that a quip dripping with snark here and there wouldn't fair her well at all, she pressed her lips together, gaze falling to her dirty boots in an attempt to hold herself back but when another pair of shoes, one that seemed like a mirror with how polished it was stepped into her line of vision, her head lifted, raking the length of the man who stood in front of her with a condescending smile on what was rather a handsome face. Doe eyes that was as dark as pools of obsidian stared back at her, authority etched onto the proud nose and the high plains of his face even if his mouth curved into the sweetest of smiles ever, meant to disarm her. It was alluring and captivating, a haze of wonder and awe engulfing her entire being. How could a person be this beautiful? He couldn't be real, he was a monster. The haze was gone as soon as it came, her own stare sharp and focused despite the politeness she spoke with. Thank you, Mrs. Ruth for the little lady lessons. "Thank you for opening your home for me, Aloysius." Chai murmured, nodding once in a bow. She wanted to continue, prying further into the stories she'd heard out of sheer curiosity but he moved before she could carry on, the command he'd uttered the last of what she heard and saw of him before he disappeared into the shadows. The grip on her arms wrenched her out of her thoughts, the weight of her burlap sack taken off her shoulders and it's comfort was gone as was the man of the house. Casting a look of dismay towards the direction he'd taken off to, Chailee allowed the servants to lead her further into the castle, past dim hallways and corridors that were lit with oil lamps and onto a brighter lit extension of the castle after countless of twists and turns of paths. "M'lady, this is your suite. Master had it arranged to what a lady would like,"Marley spoke, pushing open a set of doors so she could walk in. "Should you require or like it to be changed, please let me know." Whatever he said did not register in her brain, the beauty of the room inside leaving her speechless. The first thing she noticed was that even in the moonlight that shone from the wide windows and the several candles someone had painstakingly lit to brighten the room, it was fit for a lady. Marley had been right in that sense but it was not gaudy, so unlike the frilly and girlish decor she knew girls her age were fond of. It was elegant and discreet enough for her to call it home for once. Her eyes trailed over the enormous room, from the carpeted floor to the massive bed that could probably fit her family of five comfortably and to the three women who stood in the middle of the room, their heads bowed as they approached. "These are your ladies in waiting, m'lady. Mariah, Jeannette and Agnes will always be by your side, should you need anything."Marley spoke again, his hand resting on his chest as he bowed again. The ladies followed suit, dipping their bodies close to the ground in a curtsy and Chailee only took a step back, unsure how to process the courtesy they treated her with. Such pleasantries were uncommon where she was from. Clearing her throat so she was loud enough, she carefully arranged her visage into a cordial beam. "Please, you can call me Chai. And I don't need anything, thank you very much. No bowing too please." The woman in the middle approached, her elderly face composed into one of utter obedience as she bowed again. Protests bubbled in the young girl's throat, close to spilling when the woman spoke. "My name is Mariah, miss. We are at your service, per the Master's orders. Now if you will, your bath awaits." It didn't go unnoticed that they refused to call her by her name and her request of no bowing met deaf ears; this needed to change. But she would leave it for now, making mental note of it being one of the issues she needed to take with Aloysius later. For now, a bath sounded and seemed like a very good idea. She smelled of dirt and other unpleasant odors and if she dared to sniff herself, the stench would cause her to faint. Nodding, she let Mariah lead her to the little door that opened to reveal a marble-carved bathroom, the tub that sat in the middle steaming with warm water and scented with something rather mouthwatering and reminiscent of lemon and flowers. Her jaw dropped at it all, unable to believe the rather generous and subdued fanfare they'd welcome her with; Aloysius didn't have the air to be kind or welcoming from what she had felt earlier, but surely he wasn't too bad. The bath did her immense good, the tight muscles that formed everywhere on her body loosening under the heat of the water and steam. She was prodded, scrubbed, brushed and washed, her handmaidens refusing to let her to anything by herself, even when she was getting dressed. Chai had started making a point to fend them off anyhow she could but to no avail, their hands and fingers were always on her, preparing her for what Mariah had said dinner. The thought of food caused a rumble of hunger to erupt from her belly and she thanked Heavens that no one was around to hear such embarrassing sound. The women in waiting had left to clean the bathroom, leaving Chai alone in front of her vanity desk to scrutinize what was there. She was decent-looking now that she was clean and rid of dirt, clad in a proper outfit for a young girl instead of her brother's and father's old clothes. It was a suffocating dress, the corset tight around her torso and she wiggled, trying to loosen it a tad until she was satisfied. Exhaling, she then reached to her hair which they'd tied into a neat updo of braids and fiddled around, pulling out the pins her locks were held with, dark waves tumbling free over her shoulder and down her back. There, much better. She grinned a self-satisfied smirk at her reflection, the image of the village girl back only for it to fade when Marley walked back in. "If it pleases you, my lady, the Master awaits you in the dining area." Chailee nodded, lifting herself from the little cushioned chaise and sauntered to Marley, fingers bunched in her skirt to keep her from falling. She was led the way she had come, the way already ingrained in her brain for future use. The dining area was another grandiose part of the castle, as morose and grim as the hall she'd first met him in. Yet unlike then, there was no man in sight nor any sign of another being, whether it be a monster or human. Marley was long gone, leaving her alone in the midst of the room. "Aloysius?"she called out, taking a few steps further into the room so she could stand in the middle of it, head turning left and right in search for him. ----- her bedroom: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e4/6d/e7/e46de721864fdbf9705dcecddce3b903.jpg the bathroom/hammam: https://pin.it/1yENyPG chai's outfit inspiration: https://pin.it/7l2unhV

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venitempus/vindvin ; 

the beauty of the castle was transported in the dining area, the large room was richly decorated, but hollow – his steps were loud, and the floor squeaked occasionally. he paced in an unusual manner, other servants were waiting for his orders, looking quite terrified at their master’s change of temperament. they did not know if they should expect a feast or a bloodbath, it was never certain with aloysius. he finally sat down, two of the women approached and bowed down respectfully, waiting for their orders. aloysius ignored them, he was lost in thought. “what makes you so morose, sire?” a soft voice spoke from one of the portraits hanging on the wall. it was the image of a beautiful boy immortalised to look young forever – a dorian gray, if you will. aloysius eyes fell on the image unimpressed, two of his servants stepped back shocked by the painting’s ability to speak. but they have learnt nothing in the castle was normal, and aloysius’ magic was certainly not only contained in his sharp fangs, and unusual taste for blood. “mind your own business, will you?” aloysius dismissed the portrait and got up, making his servants get up as well. he finally noticed the synchronised movements, and the doe eyes – he gave them a glare. “you too, partir,” the way he moved told them enough, they left as quickly as they could. aloysius approached the portrait, who looked down at him with a satisfied grin. “any reason you choose to torment me today, roderick?” he locked eyes with the painted ones – and he could tell pink paint bloomed on the boy’s cheeks. “uhm, well – I thought she reminded you of someone,” the portrait said boldly, and aloysius’ eyes darkened, they were dangerous. if he could slash the canvas open – he would. if he could drain the portrait of blood – he would. the words affected him – and he knew exactly why. he will not be able to kill this one, and it was not because her brave nature amused him, no. it was because she looked like her – the witch who cursed him, who made him live forever, miserable and thirsty. part of him would have killed her on the spot – but that face still held power over him. it could be that the girl was her descendant, it would not be unheard of. if there was even the slightest chance they were related, killing her would only make his fate worse – the witch will certainly not like having her daughter, or whatever she was, killed. he did not know how the portrait knew of his thoughts, it seemed to know a lot – and he had no doubt his ‘knowledge’ was a gift from his old enemy. “what do you know, roderick? you are just an old, painted buffoon,” aloysius turned away, and just as he did, he heard a sharp laughter, and a screech that almost made him go deaf. his heightened senses were a curse – especially when a mental portrait starts screaming for no reason. he turned around and saw the image melting – aloysius’ face was impossible to be read. his feelings were also difficult to decipher – he thought he has been poisoned for a moment, the sudden reaction took him slightly off guard, for about a second. roderick’s skin melted off, revealing his skeleton, jaw clattering in a continuous laughter. aloysius rolled his eyes, and sighed. “boring. now stop the theatrics, we have guests,” roderick almost pouted at him – yes, with skeleton face and all. aloysius watched the paint get absorbed back in the painting, roderick’s face appearing again. “do that again, and I will sell you at an auction,” aloyisus said as serious as ever – he was not amused by the portrait’s intrusion and game. “listen, listen, listen, sire,” he started calling when he saw aloysius walk away again. “what I meant is that she looks like a man,” he continued, more desperate now, trying to get aloysius’ attention. “you have fun with men, right?” but aloysius was already gone. “insolent fool,” a portrait of a woman whispered, rolling her eyes, before scoffing. roderick pouted again, then stopped moving. aloysius felt the need to get away from people – from servants and annoying portraits. the living room at the end of the hall was empty now, and the portraits there never bothered him. there was a big piano in the room, and if aloysius ever looked peaceful it was when he was playing it. the portraits there loved his presence – especially if he played something for them. the moonlight was shining on the keys, and aloysius was compelled to approach. he touched the delicate surface, and sat down. he did not need any music sheet – he knew the notes by heart, he has played this composition many times. and light as a feather were his fingers on the keys, they spun and twirled and created the sweet sound of beethoven’s moonlight sonata. and the portraits closed their eyes, and listened mesmerised, the sound was loud in the sullen castle – adagio sostenuto. it almost sounded like hope, like an entrance to heaven – and aloysius looked so peaceful and beautiful. such man could not be a blood-thirsty killer, could he? – the girls who watched him play always asked that, until he managed to prove them wrong. the notes start to weigh on him, lower, and lower. the entire room vibrated with his music, and the moon was splendid – his body swayed slightly as his fingers skilfully embraced the light notes, almost dancing on the keys – allegretto. the lights were switched on, and the entire atmosphere was jolly, matching the sudden turn in his concert. some maids caught themselves dancing around, swirling to the music – and some servants joined them. it was as if the entire castle transformed into a ball, and everyone was happy. the speedy notes made them all spin around, aloysius’ fingers moving faster, his face in a serene concentration – presto agitato. the small crowd started to cheer in their dance, and even the portraits joined in – one of them mimicking a conductor. meanwhile, the music reached the dining area and roderick smirked. “you should join, missy,” roderick spoke to chai out of a sudden, looking at her with his painted eyes – his youthful, yet malicious face, he would have told her more, but he thought convincing her to go away for now would benefit him somehow. “you certainly do not want to miss such a spectacle.” the party only got louder, and more enjoyable with every new section, it even felt as though the entire castle was moving along to the music – the curtains dropping, unfolding and folding. some feathers floating, writing words in the air – and the fireplace was roaring furiously, flames moving to the beat. marley was the only one who looked distressed, he did not like how everyone chimed in – if their master sees them like that, it will not be good. he tried to stop them – but even he was captured by the music. it was as if the piano was enchanted – and perhaps it was. their hearts almost burst with every note, fascinated, excited, and absolutely in love with their little show. they did not stop dancing until the last notes hit the piano, in a graceful ending. aloysius stood up, and they all cheered so loudly the entire town might have heard them. to marley’s surprise, aloysius’ good mood was still present, so he bowed to accept the cheers with the grace of a prince. “marvellous” “breath-taking” “it was beautiful, sire” – the praise never ended. and aloysius stepped in the middle of the room, and the entire castle was once again silent. -- living room inspiration: https://i.pinimg.com/736x/76/1a/8c/761a8c08193f27732185766dc52bddef--piano-living-rooms-piano-room.jpg the song (it has the sections in the description, that should help along!): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Tr0otuiQuU

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pxssionfruit/thegildedone ;

No matter how hard she looked, he was no where to be found. Chai stood in the middle of the dining room long enough for her eyes to get adjusted to the darkness, somewhat finding it welcoming in it's eeriness and gloom. The palace and the glory of the hall she'd met Aloysius in was the exact opposite of the colorful town she hailed from and she found it a breath of fresh air, even through the earthy stench of the palace. She sucked in a breath, gnawing on the inner flesh of her cheek as her fingers wrung each other in nervousness. Was this the moment she would die at his hands? Her heart skipped a beat before picking up in her chest, deafening in the middle of the room. Maybe he was just late, the little mousy voice tried speaking bravely but to no avail, the million and one thoughts all had bloody and gory endings. "Stop stressing that pretty head of yours, will you?"a voice spoke, wrenching Chai out of her miserable reverie. Her head whipped around to find the voice who spoke yet stared at the empty room once again. Had she imagined the voice? "Non, non! You are not imagining things, I assure you! Here! On your right! Psst, look here!" With baited breath, she slowly turned the direction of the voice, gaze widening in surprise (maybe fear?) and hands flying to her mouth to hold back the little shriek that threatened to bubble out of her throat. A boy, surely no older than her, stared back at her with a grin so toothy, she could see the mischief on his visage. He wore his hair in an unruly fashion, the mop of ginger locks a stark contrast against the dark background he stood against. He looked like one of the boys who would be caught stealing cookies from the patisserie back in the village, deserving a smack on the bum from Mr. Grosventre. But despite his face, his clothes told another story, in the way the fine fabric of his shirt even shone from the painting- wait, what? Painting? Her steps were cautious but the glint in her eyes were curious as she approached the portrait on the wall, unable to hold her hand back from reaching out in the want to touch the canvas. "Tch, do not touch me, young miss! Should you want to come in too." The boy cackled as he watched her hand drop back to her side as fast as it had reached up. "Y-you speak,"she murmured, breath coming out in a shaky huff. It wasn't a question nor was it a statement; she just needed to wrap her head around this fascinating magic. The boy in the portrait watched her with impatience, mouth down-turned in pout of distaste. "You know, I did want you to be different from the other ladies who'd walked in before you. Alas, you seem to be as a floundering goat as all of them!" He exclaimed, sarcasm dripping off his tongue as he rolled his eyes before feigning a bore glance as he inspected his fingernails. Chai's eyes narrowed just a fraction, grin as toothy as his initially was, blinking once in innocence. It was a look that had come in handy often back home to get herself out of trouble and there was no doubt she would use it around here to get her way. "Do you often speak to your guests like this? Well, I would be an old grumpy cat too if I were stuck in a portrait. Pray tell, what happens when the canvas is torn or ripped? I remember seeing a knife somewhere around here..." She trailed off as if deep in thought, making sure he caught the way her eyes roamed the little space from her left to right in search of said knife. She wouldn't hurt him, not at all. But she would find entertainment in bothering him all the time. "Gah! Such a brat! You remind me awfully of someone!"he scoffed at her, in turn only him just a coquettish shrug and a bat of her eyelashes. "But you're funny. You may call me Roderick and I hope you stick around here for long, Miss Brat. It's been a long time since we've had entertainment in this ramshackle of a decaying pla-" His words were cut short by the melodious note of a piano ringing from somewhere, Chai's head turning to the side to find the source of the noise. It was euphony, the gracious and elegant kind that began sad but quickly morphed into a joyous one. Roderick and her stood in silence, appreciating the piece of music that played, transcending the space of the castle and engulfing the two in what was jolly ecstasy. Her lips curved slightly at the corners at the way the notes picked up, the sounds of cheerful laughter and shouts adding to the solo orchestra. Roderick took one glance at her face and snickered at the way her eyes had glazed over with awe, expression one of pure intrigue. “You should join, missy. You certainly do not want to miss such a spectacle." His tone and words were tempting, her feet moving on their own accord as she trudged the way the voices and music came from. There had been a little corridor right beside the grande hall that she had missed earlier on her inspection, the path lit with little oil lamps. For once, even the shadows seemed like they were cheery instead of their grim selves. Perhaps they were truly enjoying themselves, who knew? Chai stood by the door, hand resting on the wooden panel to push it wide enough so she could peek in. And the sight inside was enough to have her breath hitch in her throat. It was a ruckus but she felt the happiness that the room burst with, enticing the small frame of the girl who peeped in. Everything moved, from the tapestries and the curtains to the candle holders and feather dusters; they were all fluid in their dance, gone into the euphoria of such a masterpiece. But her gaze flitted to the man who had started such fete. Aloysius sat in the middle of the room, on the bench in front of the grande piano and had lost himself into the music, oblivious to the celebration around him until the very last notes. His fingers were lithe and expert as they came to a dwindling stop from the furious tapping on top of the ivory keys and Chai did not miss the satisfied smile he smiled as he lifted himself from the cushioned bench, graceful and royal as ever as he bowed. At that moment, she thought of it impossible that he was such a monster, especially when all of his servants and friends(?) cheered on him so loudly for. She envied him -them- for it; she'd never had a chance at experiencing such joy back in her village. Once the applause died down, she pushed the door open and walked in, hands placed politely in front of her as she cleared her throat, trying to get his attention. It was not only his that she got, but the whole palace's. It was dead again, every single sight of life gone and it broke her heart to see it. The once warm atmosphere was cold once again despite the fire that burned brighter than ever in the fireplace. But she knew she couldn't take it too heart- she was not mistress of the house after all for them to welcome her with such fuss. "You play wonderfully,"she began, voice coming out timid which was so unlike her. Chai cleared her throat again, taking a few steps closer so she stood in front of him. Her foot were awfully loud even if muffled by the carpet and she held herself from grimacing. "As if for your own celebration. Why didn't you join them in dancing? Do you dance? Would you like to?" The questions erupted past her mouth before she even knew it, her hand held out in an invite. It sure was a feeble attempt at decent cordiality and even friendship; he said he wouldn't eat her if she misbehaved after all. A if on cue, a note from the piano resonated against the castle walls, once again bringing life to the place. Her head tilted slightly so she could look over his shoulder to the massive instrument that stood majestically behind him and grinned, noticing how the keys moving on their own. Of course, it was enchanted too. With her grin still in place, she beamed up at Aloysius, barely a foot away from where he stood towering over her. "I think even it wants you to dance." She chuckled, nodding towards the direction of the piano. [ living room inspiration (as I had it in my head): https://i.pinimg.com/564x/cd/0c/df/cd0cdf34c8d3731c54260b9fd0f2948a.jpg roderick: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e5/61/c4/e561c419b7e7cfa2db3c4d71d00a602c.jpg piano piece: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sdduPpnqre4 ]

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venitempus/vindvin ;

in the fit of laughter and joy, aloysius has forgotten about his guest – kind of. he did not show any surprise to see her walking inside the beautifully decorated room, and the room’s noise died with her arrival. he regarded her – she looked more presentable. he could get used to the emerald flow she was wearing, it suited her. however, it looked old-fashioned. perhaps it was a practical joke at his expense, something along the lines of ‘aha, you are old, so let us entice you with something close to home’. surely, it was not her fault. and he wanted to glance at the maidens who were already giggling behind their palms. such childish behaviour should be punished, he would have punished it. but his mind was at peace, he was satisfied with the theatrics – he did not want to lose his peace. it will not last long anyways – and the hunger, the thirst, the murderous fever will return, and capture his entire being. it was his curse, and he accepted it. her praised made him smirk, he enjoyed hearing about himself – his arrogance trapped him in this convoluted story to begin with. her bluntness did not seem to move him, but he was impressed. she was truly different – which girl would invite a grown man to dance? it was not a custom, of course, he did not mind tradition much. it was most unlikely, and peculiar. he knew victorian girls were straightforward when showing their undergarments, but none would have dared to step forward and ask for something as innocent as a dance. they lived in a fairy tale with a prince they expected to do everything for them – lay with them, invite them to a dance, shower them with riches. and they liked it – the entire scenario has gotten too predictable for someone like him. for centuries he has met the same shy girls with a different accent, a different colour, a different smile. suddenly, the pages were blank. and chai was writing her own story – with him, without him. the piano married his heart – he gave it away. and so it tuned whatever fitted, old and new. it was a piece aloysius was only partly familiar with, it still did not make its way to england, not yet. but it was exceptional, he had a lot of praise for the russian composer. it was not the first thought in mind when selecting a tune for a traditional dance – the piano read her as accurately as it read him. the servants were holding their breaths, and for fair reason. for a brief moment he looked like a predator – his expression hardened, and his off-putting darkness was surrounding him with every movement. two girls covered their eyes – they were sure chai’s life was about to come to an end. nobody defeated him, spoke to him like that, not without consequences. she approached him in spite of it – her bravery knew no limits. it would be easy to rip her apart, to drain her pretty neck, to do anything to keep her away. he did not do any of it, he let her come close. he allowed her to disturb his personal space, to be at arm’s length. when he reached his hand out, a servant squeaked – imaging how easily aloysius could strangle her. he grabbed her hand instead, his lips curling in a dangerously charming smile – or was it charmingly dangerous? the piano taunted. aloysius pulled her closer – the song was not made for a duet, but he had to make it work. he started with steps that mimicked the pace of the piece, his arm around her waist, his hand holding hers in a waltz-like pose. but it was a quick waltz, one that made them pace all over the room frantically – the fire flickered, the servants watched bewildered. the entire piece was like a chase, it made the furniture quiver. the piano mocked them – aloysius knew. he looked at it with a smirk, it was almost as if he was scolding an old friend. when the last notes flew like a river he spun her, once, twice, and let her be taken by the rhythm. their bodies were far away, he spun her again and left her under the chandelier’s light as the last note hit. the servants were not sure if they should clap or not, so they stood in silence. “very well, friend. now if you have finished your taunt, why do you not simply play something that would allow a proper dance?” he looked at the piano, it played some notes in contemplation. “chopin should do,” aloysius helped, and the entire room changed. it was not only the light that dimmed, or the flame that flickered slower – but the curtains darkened, there was rain pouring over the windows. and white petals started to fall seemingly out of nowhere, filling the entire room with the scent of spring. aloysius approached her again, this time in a proper waltz – pulling her closer at his chest. his body was cold, and his heart was barely beating – he moved so gently, so lost. they covered the entire room – the atmosphere was enchanting. the servants watched in awe, the portraits closed their eyes in contemplation. aloysius closed his eyes too, he felt the music under his feet – he was fluid, and he pulled her along, like a gentle breeze. the petals turned burgundy as the music reached its darker notes, and the shower of little flowers covered them like the rain did the windows. he spun her, and let her go. all lights were on her, all the flowers surrounded her, moved with her, spun with her – she looked like a gracious swan on a lake of waterlilies. aloysius was at the bottom of the lake, his face was covered by the depth’s darkness, and the reflection of the rain, the moon was only gently brushing his lips. the piece ended, and the room brightened again. the cold blue lights faded to yellow, the room felt warmer. servants clapped, and filled it again with joy. aloysius walked towards the door in their applause. “dinner shall be served shortly,” he announced, and left peacefully. he did not wait for chai, he gave her the chance to refuse to follow – he thought choice suited her best. “sire,” a servant ran towards him, soaking wet. he just entered the castle, and he was panting like a wild dog. aloysius gave him a displeased look, and he fell at his feet. “I tried sire, I did. but they didn’t want to listen,” he heaved. aloysius frowned, and gestured him to get up. “that is quite alright, francis,” he said kindly? it was rather hard to tell where his tone was at right now. “they will not dare disturb me. now if you will, I should have my dinner,” and he walked away. francis was confused, and he got up, running to one of the maids to ask what happened. “she happened, dearie,” the maid said with a chuckle, pointing at chai subtly. “I haven’t seen our lord dance in a long time.” aloysius was in the dining room, roderick gave him a weird look. he choose to ignore the portrait, and it knew better than to disturb the feast. the long table was filled with all kind of food, it looked delightful. aloysius took a seat at the end of it, taking all of it in. he was in contemplation – the servants were already in the room. they usually stuck around during meals, just to make sure aloysius does not suddenly change the menu. he had a beautiful crystal glass in front of him – it was filled with dark red liquid. it could have passed as wine, but nearly everyone knew that it was not alcohol. no matter how drunk aloysius got on it. -- piano piece: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9E6b3swbnWg

---------

pxssionfruit/thegildedone ;

She waited with baited breath at his reaction; somehow she was prepared for the rejection that would come. In his eyes, she was probably just a silly little girl who attempted to befriend a monster. Surely, he wouldn't- surprise rushed through her body, eyes wide when her hand was taken. Chai felt small in his hold, her hand fragile into his strong one. Was he really willing to dance with her? Wasn't she meant to be discarded and treated as if her little wishes and desires were meaningless? Wasn't she just the lamb that had would be soon roasted in the pit for the wolf's dinner? It was clear that she hadn't expected it in the way she gawked, eyes widening enough so the light caught her irises, a flash of gold and green sparkling in otherwise dark orbs. her body stiffened for a moment before it relaxed, the music somehow soothing, crashing against his body. from this close, she could finally take a good look at the man. from the minutest imperfections that were almost invisible to the harsh lines and shadows in his face that seemed as if he had a permanent scowl, he exuded grace and regality. chai didn't understand how someone could be so beautiful could exist, but here he was; cold yet warm in her hold as they moved about the grandiose room in effortless steps, surprisingly able to match his waltz despite how her full skirt billowed at their feet. she had never had the chance to dance such back in the village; her family's finances were such that minor luxuries and hobbies were considered a waste. and right now that she was indulging in it, the worry she had back then seemed so far away. her thoughts were still running rampant in her head, her steps matching his rhythm accompanied by the sway of her body to the music so much that she hadn't noticed she was left alone under the chandelier until she sensed his warmth leaving her side. her face was inquisitive, intrigued by what was to come next when he spoke, his command oozing confidence and majesty. then the world changed, her breath taken by what transpired next. everything was in motion, the room itself coming to life as the music changed. the world darkened significantly outside, the pellets of rain hitting the windows harshly. yet somehow, it was spring's comfort and warmth that began seeping through. the chandelier twinkled in the moonlight and what was remaining of the candlelights as they dimmed, engulfing the room into a whimsical glow. something grazed her cheek with the weight of a feather, falling into her open palm and when she looked at it, in her hand laid a white petal, as soft as a baby's bum or the first of snowflakes she'd caught as a child. it was gone soon, joining the rest of its friends onto the carpeted floor when aloysius took her hand, leading her into a dreamy waltz. how their steps matched was a wondrous feat in itself, chai as fluid as he was when he moved her about the room. it was a beautiful rhythm, one that made her lose awareness of her surroundings, completely throwing herself into the music and the touch that tethered her to the ground. his hand left hers with a force that left her spinning into the middle of the room, her full skirts swarming elegantly at her feet. her eyes had closed, cheeks flushed out of both shyness and joy, her lips curved into the most timid grin she'd ever muster in her sixteen years of life and her hair was a fluid cascade of dark locks that caught the petals. the music dwindled down, the applause that overtook the room a roar that would shame the thunder and lightning that had started picking up outside. slowly, chai's eyes opened, cheeks flushing the same color of the petals that were at her feet and in her hair, searching for the man. aloysius had left her there, in the middle of the room with a crowd of onlookers. her face contorted into one of disbelief as she picked up her skirts and rushed back out the same way she came in after the man. she was too slow- hey, he was just too agile!, she thought to herself as she barged into the dining room, unconsciously leaving a trail of little flowers onto the floor. she glanced at the drenched man who had begun disappearing off somewhere, but her attention was caught once again by the man she had just danced with- she refused to admit that it was a sweet moment. "I'd have thought you were a gentleman!"she exclaimed, tone a bit too loud. she noticed roderick grimacing from his spot on the wall out of her peripheral vision but that did not stop the myriad of words that came out of her mouth as she stepped closer to aloysius, coming to a stand to where he was. "The least you can do is wait for me! My legs are not as long as yours! And you don't have to wear a skirt either and- oh!" the rant stopped as fast as it came, her gaze falling onto the feast-ladden table that sat in the middle of the room. it was filled with everything she could imagine, from a roasted suckling pig to an assortment of quince and cheese, fruit platters to a variety of desserts. she'd never seen so much food in her life; it was enough to feed the whole village back home! she spotted a seat that was readied for her at the other end of the long table- it was too distant, too aloof... just like the man who sat at the head of the table. swallowing thickly, she moved the chair that she was standing by which happened to be on his right and sat down, able to pick up the sounds of the servants running around to fix her new seat for her. "Thank you," she murmured kindly to one of the servants who placed a pristine plate and utensils in front of her. chai's hand hesitantly reached for her fork, the cold metal foreign in her hands. she was hungry and the whole castle was made aware of it when her stomach rumbled, rivaling that of the thunder outside. roderick snickered from his place on the wall in front of her and she was quick to raise her fist that was still gripping the fork, shaking it in warning at the boy in the painting. "Shut up, you wretched fopdoodle!" she glared at him but the boy only snickered harder, his face contorting into a grimace that was sure meant to poke fun at the girl who only stuck her tongue out at him, fist dropping down so she could stab a grape. she was far too hungry to shoot a clever quip so deciding she would deal with roderick later, she started to eat, the grape-tipped fork freezing about halfway to her mouth. she took a glance at the man beside her and hesitantly held the fruit to him in an attempt at being friendly. they did just dance, so maybe he wouldn't be too closed now, right? "Would you like one? I'm sure they are delicious,"she began, mouth upturning into what she hoped was a toothy grin but really was an awkward one. Roderick yodeled a bout of robust and obnoxious laughter, his exclamation causing her eyebrows to thread together into a scowl. "Oh, naive little girl! She wants to give our lord a grape! A grape! Haha!"

TO BE CONTINUED.

( @thegildedone​ )

[vindvin]

𝖑𝖆 𝖛𝖎𝖊 𝖊𝖓 𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖊-𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖚.

𝕮alixto walked up the hill seemingly undisturbed for a while, they were both silent – good. he did not want to hear suho, he did not even want him to breathe near him. he was so angry and sad, he did not expect it to hurt this much. but it did – every time there was a harder step, calixto would go out of breath momentarily. and he did not know if it was because he just recovered from drowning, or because his heart was heavy. they entered some sort of tropical forest, the oracle sure enjoyed its cave. he has been there once before, he had a quest when he was sixteen, but did not visit in a while. it was not his first choice – the oracle was quite a creepy old lady, and her words were maddening. calixto spaced out, he tried to think of other things – his steps got quicker, he was rushed, and reckless.

he stepped wrong. but he got his balance in check before a disaster – the rock got a curse in french. especially because it projected him backwards, in suho’s arms. even if it was for one second, calixto hated it. he ripped away as though he was escaping claws, and his steps got even quicker. he heard suho talking, and deliberately ignored him. however, when he continued speaking, calixto had to do something. he was still annoyed, you must understand this – because he turned around so abruptly, gravity brought him inches away from suho. and the memory of the kiss  played in his mind – and how much he wanted it again. he brushed it off, and frowned instead. “why are you tailing me like a dog?” he stepped back, and resorted to sticking to suho’s side. the road was getting rockier, and he did not want to risk slipping off in the waterfall.

“if you must know, I just saw you staring at a symbol on the beach,” he lied skilfully, it was half the truth. it hurt him to lie, he was a very honest person despite what suho or anyone might think. “and yes, I know where I am going,” his voice got graver, and now he was close again right in suho’s face. “and I am not a liar,” his french accent took over because of his uncontrollable anger. suho irritated him so much, he just wanted to rip him apart – in more than one way.

a ghostly moan interrupted calixto’s thoughts. he turned around and saw the old lady oracle walk out of her cave in a trance. he sighed heavily – he knew what it meant. he looked at suho as if telling him to shut up, because this was important. the oracle stepped closer, green mist surrounded her. she opened he mouth, and green came out of it – along with the dreaded words.

water and wine must work as one they must face the one defeated by none the forge and the earth shall be near they seek those who feast on fear

east with the winds shall they go and return before the fall of snow they must learn to cherish or thus shall they all perish

and with that, the oracle left. no other word would she say, and calixto knew this – he did not even try to ask what was that all about. because honestly, the oracle’s words rarely made sense. “we shall go before the gods strike the island, fishboy. we have to tell chiron about this, someone needs to help untangle these words,” he hesitated. he did not want to touch suho again, but he did. for some reasons his touch was gentle, he grabbed suho’s wrist and pulled him closer, then along and away from the island.

calixto’s mind was too preoccupied with the prophecy, he kept on repeating it. and then at some point, he started speaking again – a little unfocused. “the forge and the earth, do you think this means we have to take a hephaestus and a hades child with us? I cannot think of anything else. why else would it be the forge and the earth,” calixto forgot he was talking to suho, maybe this quest will actually make him get over the fact that he hated talking to suho.

they reached camp pretty fast, the road back was always quicker than the one up. it was just one of the many peculiarities about the place. calixto’s eyes searched for campers, and for chiron, the centaur. he found chiron near the sacrificial fire, and he ran to him, completely disregarding the fact that suho was with him. it was clear that his priority was the quest. that dream disturbed him. he recited the prophecy to chiron, and the centaur pondered. he smiled and waved at suho, he was awfully friendly.

“I do believe you need to take two more campers. and you shall organise your journey as quickly as possible, I have a feeling it will take a while,” the centaur nodded, he was still thinking about it, calixto knew. “tell you what, we can revisit this in the morning. I heard you went through a lot today, you should rest,” he looked at calixto sympathetically, and gave suho a kind look. he was referring to both of them. calixto felt a little embarrassed, he did not like to be pitied. “ah, damien!” the centaur waved at a hades child, urging him to come over.

“hello chiron,” the boy said with a smile-smirk, and looked at suho and calixto in a silent disgust. he was quite conceited, and he did not like any other child of the three. and calixto? well, calixto annoyed him. as he did most people. “did anything happen?”

“I think I might have a quest for you,” chiron smiled. “think about it.”

“with these two?” damien scoffed, and calixto looked at him.

“you are not my first choice, corpse breath,” calixto could not hold his tongue. chiron wanted to intervene, but damien cut him off.

“I am in, chiron. anything to see wine boy get squeezed to his death,” there was a playful smirk on his lips, and a charm to his words and manner. damien was fun, a lot of people loved him – perhaps that was why calixto did not like him. calixto wanted to say something, but decided against it. a fight in front of chiron would end anticlimactically – chiron was a peacemaker, and a keeper of balance.

-- ( @meikosflower​​ )

[vindvin]

[vindvin]

𝕳e did not get the chance to say anything, really. by the time he wanted to speak, he felt the cold water hit his ankles. he would have run, if his pride did not stop him. stepping away from battle would prove that he was scared to lose a battle – that he was scared of suho. and calixto did not accept it, he was not scared. at least he thought he was not, until the water got more violent. he tried to reach his hand out, and let the vines strangle suho – or at least, he wanted to shout, to tell him not to do it. but by the time he opened his mouth, it was too late.

the water captured him – and calixto struggled against the tide. he only made it worse, because water entered his lungs, and he started to feel lightheaded. he collapsed, sinking lower and lower. the blue water embracing his figure gracefully, he looked like a fallen angel – only, he fainted. oxygen stopped reaching his brain, and he looked asleep – he subdued to the ocean’s power. he thought that was it, it was his end, suho won. he refused to accept it even in his deep slumber – but he could not wake up. his body decided to shut down, he was drowning. and whilst he was sinking slowly, he had a dream.

perhaps a prophecy, perhaps just aphrodite messing with him. or maybe poseidon. calixto was sure all gods were against him, probably his own father too. he saw suho in his vision, looking quite happy – saying much, since he was always grumpy around calixto. calixto was touching his face, smiling as well – again, it was probably aphrodite giving him these images. there was a symbol on the ground, they were clearly on the beach. calixto could not read it, but it looked like a rune. in his dream, someone called for them, and calixto turned, but he only saw a shadow. and the shadow got closer, and closer – until all was darkness.

he felt his hand being yanked, yet he did not react – he believed a shark must have gotten him. the force was so strong, it was a miracle his body was still in one piece. calixto never felt anything pull him like that – it was almost desperate. when he hit the ground, he choked. he coughed out water, and he jolted right up. he spit the water, and panted – his breath was so short, his little sister’s grip on his wrist got stronger. he looked at her with one eye opened, and one closed. his eyes were blurry, but he could tell she has been crying. she did not hesitate, she hugged him so tight it made him choke up some more water. he hugged her back regardless.

“father! he tried to kill cal,” one of calixto’s brothers pointed accusatorily at suho, there was anger in his red eyes. he too has been crying. one of the poseidon children almost jumped at him.

“not fair! our brother didn’t know he can’t swim!” but it was all in vain, because when dionysus arrived he did not want to hear either side speak. he helped calixto up and asked him to explain this nonsense. calixto considered what he should say – he was angry, at the same time, he was extremely sad. for no reason in particular. he never got along with suho, but none of them have gotten this close to killing the other, and that upset him. maybe he was upset suho took lead. in any case, calixto impulsively decided suho must pay for this.

“he wanted me to die,” he said determined, knowing it was a lie. he looked at suho, and for a second he was apologetic. he felt his strength, his struggle to get him out. suho saved him. and it was no way to treat his saviour, yet the conflicting feelings were too much. it hurt calixto so much, he could have drowned on air. and his eyes betrayed him, the hurt was deep instilled in them – they were darker, and he struggled to bite back embarrassing tears. “he pushed me, and held me under water,” he continued, dismissing the protest coming from all sides.

“he saved you, ungrateful shithole!” a poseidon kid could not hold their tongue, and calixto’s little sister stepped in, her cheeks wet from crying.

“he would not need saving if he did not put him in danger in the first place!”

“enough!” dionysus voice rumbled, it almost shook the entire shore. he was as angry as anyone has ever seen him. he was on no side, but his eyes bore into suho’s. “I will let your father deal with you, boy. as for you,” he turned to calixto, his face just as stern. “if I find out you provoked him, I will drown you in wine and watch you die,” it almost startled calixto. he held his breath for a moment, he was not sure if dionysus was serious. yet, his father’s sudden snap made calixto fear his wrath. he thought of ways to make his accusation seem less harmful. the dream surfaced in his mind – it must be important, right?

“do not punish him, please,” calixto managed, and dionysus was so shocked he forgot what he wanted to say. “I saw something, and as much as I want him to suffer in hades, I think we should go to the oracle. and I did not provoke him, I was painting, he disturbed me,” calixto’s truth was unexpected, and dionysus could tell that whatever his son saw was pretty serious if he was willing to vouch for his enemy. “and after this is solved,” calixto continued and looked at suho, his stern face resembling dionysus’. “I will make you pay.”

“all this back and forth, boys,” dionysus started, a lot more relaxed. perhaps he forgot his son was almost murdered, it all looked like an accident now. “very well. he should be spared, you should be spared. now go to the oracle, and for the love of zeus, do not hold hands. I cannot handle all this harvest exploding. and I am pretty sure poseidon hates to have his river stones moved, or whatever,” dionysus moved his hand, and turned around. he stopped in his steps, and looked over his shoulder. “you two go alone. if any of you follows them,” he glanced at the aphrodite children, who were eager to stalk the two. “I will feed you to the harpies,” dionysus’ threat did not go unheard.

calixto watched his father go away, and moved towards suho with such speed, the poseidon children thought he will attack. but he did not. instead he grabbed his wrist quite forcefully and pulled him. he was so annoyed, his steps said everything – nobody wanted to be in his way. once he was sure suho will not run back, he let go in a heartbeat. his clothes were still wet, and his heart was still pounding from the adrenaline – or from holding suho’s wrist, he was not sure. he did not want to talk, he wanted this over with. and for once in never, they were alone. and the silence was deafening. calixto ignored suho, and tried to focus on the task at hand – he drew the symbol in his mind over and over again, he did not want to forget it.

-- ( @meikosflower​ )

𝖑𝖆 𝖛𝖎𝖊 𝖊𝖓 𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖊-𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖚.

[vindvin]

𝕮armine spread on his pages, and with a blissful swipe – it bled on the other side. a serene expression on his face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. his hand caressing the soft surface, his brushes wet, dipped in morning blue, his fingers dusted in crimson. he looked like a masterpiece, the nymphs thought so anyways. they rarely saw calixto so calm and collected, so lost in his craft – but when they did, they cherished his peaceful presence. they stared at him in awe, followed his lines, whispered, sang for his flowers to bloom. and he did not mind them, he loved his craft too much to let anything disturb him. his sugar glider matin, a recent gift from his father, was jumping around, rolling in the grass, hugging flowers – but calixto’s eyes never left the paper.

he was sitting on the grass – and it was odd for someone as chaotic as him to create such a mesmerising image. it was a paradox – but so was he. the aphrodite campers often spent their time in the meadow, and even they were shocked to see calixto so dreamy. they knew that if anyone disturbs this image, he will snap back to his cold demeanour, and scold them. they did not want that, they simply joined the nymphs and watched him. calixto did not know he attracted so many people around him – and frankly he did not care. his mind was blank, there was a sweet tune playing in his mind – and vines started growing all around him. the small animals started chewing on their leaves, and the second a grape appeared, they stole it and ran away with it. matin was more comfortable climbing on calixto’s shoulder, staring bewildered at the beautiful landscape that came to life on his page.

this was just one episode which made calixto appear quite bizarre in front of the other campers. as if the events that led to this – the kiss, and the flower painting – changed him in some way, made him more mature. they could not say the same for suho – albeit, calixto ignored every rumour that contained his name. he detached himself, he no longer dreamed, or mused over suho – yet his energy kept fuelling his peace. some days he felt as if he was floating on water, aimlessly moving with the tide. calixto would wake up in the meadow, look at the blue sky and realise he was not sinking.

being on water was a terrifying thought – calixto did not know how to swim. perhaps it was part of the reason he loathed any child of the water – especially suho. he admired their skill, the way they controlled an unpredictable element. it took strength, it took resistance – which calixto miserably lacked. there was nothing hard about making vines grow, or driving people mad. it was a kind of jealousy – he was jealous, yet he did not show it. water scared and enticed him – like it did everyone. water was a sublime experience for him, and as an artist he could literally drown in its essence. was suho a sublime experience as well? he could not tell.

his calm lasted for a few days – and when he was not spending time in the meadow, he found himself around bodies of water. he was not close enough to touch them, yet he could smell them, he could dream about them. the surface today was bleu de france with ripples of teal and white. the water was incredibly beautiful, calixto was tempted to dive in – but he resisted the urge. instead, he resorted to painting it. he was sitting on the grass near the water, his sugar glider on his shoulder, nereides sighing dreamingly. calixto looked absolutely stunning – the clear blue of the water reflecting on his fair face, and in his dark hair. he closed his eyes briefly, imagining what he wished to paint – it was in front of him, however, he was trying to grasp a feeling, to make a connection.

he was startled. he did not expect to see suho there, even though he stepped on his territory. it has been so long since he thought about, or saw the boy. and his face did reveal his surprise to see the boy – and for a moment it retained its glowing beauty, as the soft blue caressed his exposed neck, and plain white, fitted t-shirt. it took a while for the storm to break – but when it did, calixto’s stern face unseen for days was back, and the sudden loss of peace scared the nereides away. matin jumped off his shoulder, and hid in his now empty water cup. calixto closed his sketchbook, left it in matin’s care, and got up. his imposing height, and serious face spoke war. if he was someone else, calixto might have understood why he was picking a fight for no reason – but he was suho, and fighting was their thing.

“as if I would ever touch you, algae brain,” calixto’s tongue slipped in french unintentional, perhaps his thoughts were wired in french given how much the languages suited his inner peace. his anger was building up. he remembered the last time they had an argument – his lips did not forget. it was why he hesitated to step closer, he stood in his lane – stupidly close to the water, without realising suho can use it to his advantage. “did you wake up at the bottom of the ocean, fishboy? because your brain definitely lacks oxygen. and wits,” he let his words cut suho, as much as his words cut him, and his artistic pride.

of course, their argument roared so loud, campers started to gather. aphrodite were the first to arrive, cooing, spinning happily as their favourite couple united. everyone expected a kiss, they thought calixto and suho’s banter has finally come to an end, and they were there to confess their undying love for each other. however, the vines raising from the ground, waiting to wrap themselves around suho’s legs and around his neck told them otherwise. calixto looked livid – and they were almost shocked given how peaceful he has been.

“any last words, slipper? I am done talking to you,” calixto’s voice dropped an octave, it got dangerous. whether he wanted to kill, or only wished to sound like he did, was quite unknown. the campers’ astonishment let calixto know they were expecting a combat not a tango. and as much as he might have wanted to kiss suho, he was too annoyed – and perhaps the aphrodite charm was slowly washing away.

-- ( @meikosflower​ )

𝖑𝖆 𝖛𝖎𝖊 𝖊𝖓 𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖊-𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖚.

[vindvin]

𝕯ying of embarrassment – it was really not how calixto envisioned his end. he was forced to follow his father uncharacteristically obedient, it even made his siblings quirk an eyebrow at his demeanour. his shoulders sunk, and his mind was a hurricane – all he could think about were the sweet lips he wished he never kissed. his heart was still pounding, and he could not tell why – he felt too much at once, his head was spinning. he was so unfocused in fact that he ran into his father when the latter stopped abruptly. calixto lifted his head and looked at his parent quizzically, waiting for the scold of his life.

“‘right,” dionysus pressed the bridge of his nose with two fingers, sighing deeply. calixto was getting even more nervous, his legs were restless, he just wanted to run, and hide away forever. “can you explain why the entire vineyard has grapes? it’s not their damn season yet,” dionysus motioned at the field – which to calixto’s surprise was filled with delicious grapes. he had to frown, maybe they miscalculated, maybe the seasons got messed up, it had to be.

“why do you think it is my fault?” he asked, perhaps playing stupid. of course it was his fault, he just did not want to admit it. his wet shirt started to dry, and maybe he missed the coldness, his mind was a mess.

“poseidon is livid, if the sea and the vineyard are both acting up, it must be because of you and that silly boy, silas,” dionysus did not have the patience to get suho’s name right, or perhaps he just did not care. calixto tried to gather his thoughts, he did not know how to break the latest news – fortunately he did not have to. his siblings tagged along, and his older half-sister stepped in.

“cal kissed that boy, dad. though, we don’t know why,” she looked at calixto, who looked away, avoiding any eye contact. his purple eyes were getting brighter by the second, and they were now so pale they almost looked white. dionysus looked at him, then at her, then at him again. he started laughing. calixto was taken aback, and so were his siblings. dionysus laughed so hard he sounded like a madman, and perhaps he was just a little insane.

“oh man, that’s funny. is that why you attacked the aphrodite kids? they’ve been brewing love potions ever since the day you met that kid. looks like their plan finally worked,” dionysus continued his mockery, he was still laughing. calixto’s half-siblings chimed in, they could not help but find the entire situation amusing. calixto never wanted to disappear more than now, and with a typical frown, and scoff, he turned on his heels and left. nobody stopped him, and he was glad. though the sound of their happy voices in the distance annoyed him.

when he got back at the dionysus cabin, he shut himself inside, luckily all alone. he found his painting of suho’s eyes and out of rage stabbed it with his silver dagger. he let out a yell of frustration, ripping the entire canvas – his masterpiece gone in seconds. he broke down, for the first time in his life he felt vulnerable, helpless. he wanted to hurt, he wanted to…disappear.

***

calixto did not let go of the dagger the next few weeks, he knew he will need it if he sees suho close again. he was not sure if he wanted to kill suho with it, or take his own heart out – whichever scenario, he just wanted his mind to stop torturing him. everyone was scared to approach him, so they let him be – he started avoiding people, especially suho or any of his siblings. it was as if calixto was no longer around, people barely saw him. yet he was lurking, waiting for an opportunity. he wanted to kill suho, then proceed to kill every aphrodite camper, he was so convinced of his plan.

so cruel are the fates, that one day he took his paintbrushes and paint with. when he stumbled upon a sleeping suho near the lake, he wanted to ponce, his hand was on the dagger. yet, suho was soundlessly asleep. and the second calixto allowed himself to observe him, all feelings came rushing back – and the memory of the kiss made his lips burn. he almost choked on his heart when he approached, closer, closer. he could end it, there and then, he could kill suho and it would all end – no. it would not. he did not want to hurt him. he wanted to touch him.

one stroke did not wake him up, so calixto continued – there were flowers blooming on suho’s torso, and calixto’s concentration was beyond blissful. he was yet again in a trance – and the small lilies, dandelions, violets were just too pretty. it was arguably the softest painting he has ever made – and it was spread on suho’s naked body. he did not realise how much of a deep sleeper suho actually was, but he was thankful, the last thing he wanted was to be seen. he did not dare touch him with his fingers, but oh how badly he wanted it. he wanted to trace his body, to feel his skin – like he felt the wet shirt against his chest. calixto had to pull himself out of his trance quite violently, he could not risk anything. he grabbed his things and left right in time – he heard someone calling suho’s name. calixto disappeared and headed back to his cabin, a happy girl skipping behind him.

his heart dropped when he recognised her – the girl who brought about his misery. did she see him? but most importantly, will she talk? calixto decided not to address her for now, he ignored her presence – his mind not forgetting to keep an eye on her. when calixto got inside the cabin, he felt oddly happy. and the following days, he kept going outside – people finally noticing his presence, he was back to his old self. yet, he still made sure to stay away from all interactions. he did, however, spend an absence amount of time in the meadow, painting flowers.

-- ( @meikosflower​ )

𝖑𝖆 𝖛𝖎𝖊 𝖊𝖓 𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖊-𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖚.

[vindvin]

𝕿he plan to reunite these problematic demigods only but revealed the camp’s need for amusement – the place has been peaceful for too long. and whilst most of them enjoyed the peace and quiet, the aphrodite campers were surely known to disobey the natural order of things. calixto knew this was a well-thought plan, but he could not help giving them exactly what they wanted – unwillingly, really. as if the fact that he had to see suho was not hard enough, the boy had to be naked, he just had to. it made calixto unsettled, but he did not let it show – by gods, he would never show weakness in front of anyone, especially not in front of suho. the blues on suho’s collarbones turned red – calixto’s rage peaked, and for some reasons it has been uncontrollable ever since their last interaction.

with, still, a significant distance, he managed to fight back, his words accentuated, cutting as deep as they could. “what have I told you about talking, imbécile?” he lost it, his tongue slipped in french. there was a snarl, it was probably stupid to pick up a fight all alone, suho was right. but calixto did not need anyone tailing him, he was strong enough to take suho alone. and he wanted it, oh how badly he wanted it. but something did not let him – he could feel his entire body trembling, crumbling under the frustration, under the unanswered hidden desire. he moved his hand, and tried to summon some vines to no avail – they did not come to him. he was powerless, his abilities were not helping. calixto was forced to use his physical force to defeat suho, so he stepped closer. there was a squeal from the aphrodite cabin, but the other campers looked petrified. he looked deep into suho’s eyes, perhaps he gulped unconsciously. those cursed eyes.

calixto grabbed suho’s wrist very hard, pulling his hand away from his chest – if suho was not as strong as he was, his bone could have been broken by now. calixto’s force, albeit not as impressive, was still enough to keep suho’s hand away. but his body, his body...calixto stepped closer, fierce. his bravery was borderline stupid, suho could knock him out if he wanted to. but somehow calixto knew he will not do it, his eyes got so lost. he really just stared at suho in silence – and those painted eyes were beautiful. “I need no protection from you, fishboy,” he almost spit his words, the nickname ringing louder. he knew suho hated it – calixto’s body started to succumb. he wanted it, he needed it, he had to have it. there was hatred, there was frustration – it pushed him to his limit.

in an unexpected movement, calixto grabbed suho’s face between his cold fingers and closed the space between them with a kiss. his eyes immediately closed, his breath stopped, but he was frowning. there was an audible cheer, but it slipped away from reality – calixto could not hear anything but his heart beating faster, louder. and there was so much intensity – he remembered the painting, and moved his lips harshly against suho’s. he wanted to say I hate you for making me do this, however, in reality nobody forced him to dive head first. he got so intoxicated by his lips moving, his grip got stronger. his body was so close, he could suho’s heat radiating – and the reminiscent of water drops were now sticking to calixto. he felt his shirt get wet, and his anger got worse. he exhaled – and realised he was still kissing suho. so sweet, and soft – like waterlilies, he drifted for one moment. there were so many ideas running through his mind, suho was beautiful, and calixto’s lips knew it – there was a tender type of violence to his kiss.

he broke it off as abruptly as he started it, and for a second, it looked as if he would go for a second kiss. indeed, his lingering gaze, positively in its worshipping craze, betrayed him as well. but his eyes shifted quickly, he frowned harder, stepped back, his shirt all wet. the imprint made his shirt translucent, and there were some whistles as his body was revealed. calixto did not like to have such attention – he was not comfortable with his body showing through his shirt like that. and the fact that it followed suho’s curves made it so much more prominent.

his breath was nowhere to be found, he was flabbergasted and embarrassed by what he has done, he wanted to run away, but he was well-aware that would make him look like a coward. the silence was awkward, he could not think of anything clever to say – and who could blame him? he almost stuck his tongue down his enemy’s throat, by gods calixto that was idiotic, he told himself. the thought of it made him shiver, but somehow aroused. calixto hoped his body will not betray him, not now. he did not have to say anything,  because one of the aphrodite campers found it particularly amusing to voice his fear, in a rather melodious tone.

“looks like cally likes fish way too much,” the nickname, her grin, her expression – calixto lost it. his vines did not work on suho, but they worked on her. they wrapped around her, and she gasped. “put me down!!!!” she yelped, but calixto’s expression only got darker, almost murderous.

“it was you, was it not? you did this. you made this disgusting,” he stopped, pretending the kiss was completely appalling to him. “thing happen. better take your spell off, fleur flétrissante [ wilting flower ], or you will regret it,” the grip was tight, and nobody in their right mind would want to intervene. calixto caught a glimpse of suho, and his vines started to wilt, collapsing, dropping the camper in one of her half-brother’s arms. he looked at the scene quite amazed, then he realised why his powers failed – his father was giving him a dangerous look. calixto knew he fucked up this time.

“calixto arthur nuit,” dionysus voice boomed across the field. fuck, that was one of the few times dionysus actually addressed calixto by his full name in public. “a word,” and calixto was forced to obey, perhaps for the better – he was way too messed up to stick around and explain why that kiss happened.

-- ( @meikosflower​ )

𝖑𝖆 𝖛𝖎𝖊 𝖊𝖓 𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖊-𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖚.

[vindvin]

kim doyoung | love & wine!aesthetic moodboard 🍷

We are not the same 내 유일한 가치

[vindvin]

𝕮alixto’s mood got better the minute he was not around suho anymore – he was once again able to exert his power over everyone, boss them around, and send them away if he wanted to. however, his attitude took a three-sixty when he found himself in an artistic frenzy, his muse fuelled by a mysterious force to the point that all he did, all day long, was paint, sketch, and draw. his rather silent behaviour was hard to miss, but people knew that it was best to leave him be.

it started with the usual creepy landscapes – calixto enjoyed abstract art, and fair enough, his work was mainly a suggestion. he admired expressionism, and impressionism, and found himself deeply inspired by the style, hence he adopted it. his colour palette varied, but it seemed to revolve around the same deep purple-reddish tones, much like wine. it was rare to see him use any bright colours – if he did, it often concerned whoever was unfortunate enough to see the artwork. whilst calixto’s work could send any mortal into an insane fit, rendering them completely mad with visions, his work had little if any effect on demigods. it was the reason why he was allowed to display it everywhere, build an entire gallery. and he was good – not because he enjoyed telling everyone he was - he was truly talented. such talent was often envied by the apollo cabin, who were known for their eccentric, and beautifully decorated artworks.

anyhow, the colour that dominated calixto’s recent landscapes was blue, often an ocean-green, with strokes of grey amidst the madness of it all. at first, he did not mind it much. he enjoyed his trance, painting away lines, waves, strokes. he was very much in love with the process of creating, and his enjoyment was obvious to everyone who witnessed him painting. the first paintings were beautifully abstract and creepy, only shapes, and deep strokes. then, one day, he sat by the pond. he decided to sketch the nereids playing with aquatic flowers – they were incredibly beautiful, and sometimes docile enough for calixto to want to hang around. however, as he lost himself in his artistic trance, the lines on the paper took the form of a man, strong cheekbones, and a grave expression – like anger, but still incredibly attractive. calixto stared at the drawing, it was as if he did not remember creating it. his creative frenzy was turned into a curse – he threw the sketch in the pond. he refused to draw him, and decided he should not sketch anything for a while.

his paintings were not void of his presence either. imagine this – calixto in an open field, easel securely placed on a patch of grass, a huge canvas, and a multitude of colours surrounding him. he could have painted anything, but he did not. his hand caressed the canvas like it would a lover, blues were added – and a pair of gorgeous stormy eyes appeared, as if summoned by calixto’s tender artistry. this time, he did not have the heart to throw the canvas on the ground. he stared into the painted eyes – very much like the real ones and touched the canvas. the wet paint coated his fingers, and in a moment of weakness there was a soft smile forming on his lips. he dragged his dirty finger over his lips, closing his eyes – he could feel the rush in his body, his heart jumping out of his chest. he heard his blood dancing, there was a storm forming in his stomach – his knees were weak, the blue was dragged on his chin. and when the toxic paint got inside his mouth, he was startled awake. he shook his head, and hid the painting, very well.

another time, calixto caught himself staring at the poseidon table for way too long. his lost gaze did not go unnoticed, he looked positively love-struck, almost mad. luckily he was not looking his way, not that time. one of his half-siblings elbowed his side, and he frowned, almost hissing at her. he got up and left afterwards, too embarrassed to stick around. another day brought him another pill to swallow. he caught suho jumping in the water, he was alone. and calixto was near, but he made sure he will not be somewhere where suho can spot him. it would be too weird, and it would make both of them react violently – like they always did. but calixto’s pretty purple eyes stared in the distance, and his hand painted suho’s body – his curves, the muscles on his back, his black hair. he could feel his breath shortening when he stared at his painting later that day – his creations made him lose his mind. he was starting to believe his powers were affecting him, and he almost convinced himself of it.

he passed by the aphrodite camper who he so shamelessly attacked, and caught her giggling the minute he was around. he wanted to approach, but she waved at him, sent a kiss, a love heart, and pointed behind him. calixto was confused, but he followed – only to see suho approaching. there was an unanswered rage that broke inside of him – all this time he tried to avoid him, he tried to follow from a distance, he tried not to think about him. and there he was, with his stupid face, his absolutely beautiful face. it was probably a coincidence that they were brought face to face again – or maybe it was just a spell. calixto swore he will punish that foolish girl.

“no wonder the air smells fishy, of course you are here,” calixto commented with a scoff, making sure they were at a decent distance. he did not want to be close, he did not want to look into suho’s eyes. he did not know how he would react if he did, he might lose it – the memory of the toxic paint on his lips so vivid. there was a lot of rage inside of him, his hatred had no boundaries, but there was also something else – a frustration, it was a clash of emotion. the man he wanted to kill was the man he worshipped, his muse.

“what do you want, fishboy?” calixto added, arms folded across his chest in a demanding manner. of course, campers started to gather. they could smell conflict from miles away, and something told him the aphrodite girl was oh-too-keen to announce his and suho’s reunion.

-- ( @meikosflower​ )

𝖑𝖆 𝖛𝖎𝖊 𝖊𝖓 𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖊-𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖚.

[vindvin]

[vindvin]

[vindvin]

[vindvin]

𝕴f calixto’s confusion was not strong enough yet, that idiot made it worse by lashing out on him like that. how could he think he would ever draw love hearts on his shirt – calixto’s anger made the tip of his ears turn red. he was ready – then suho ripped his shirt off. calixto’s breath stopped – his face turned a little purple at the lack of oxygen, his milky skin making it more obvious. he could not take his eyes off of him – and he wanted to. it was as if an invisible force made him stare, made him lose track of time, made him not notice suho coming closer. it was safe to say that when his collar was pulled, the last fragment of breath left him for good. suho’s stormy eyes left calixto speechless, it made him subconsciously trace every swirl in them in just one second. calixto’s own beautiful pair of purple eyes were drowned in confusion, and it took him a moment to recover and remember that his anger was far stronger than his admiration. by the time he wanted to act, suho slipped away. calixto’s stern look returned, and his breath was as good as new.

“your brain is really made of seaweed, why would I ever draw hearts on you? please, you are not worth a pencil line,” calixto’s rage was present in every word, his accent getting heavier by the second. at this point he could have just slipped in his mother tongue – because the curses that followed were unmistakably french. he wanted to pounce, not caring about the ice at all – he would have rather broken a bone than allow suho to treat him like this. right when he wanted to step on ice – it would have been a dumb move anyways – someone grabbed his collar from behind, lifting him in the air. calixto knew that there was only one person in the entire camp who could actually lift him like that, like he was just a little toy.

“seriously, you two again,” dionysus said in a bored voice, almost yawning. he put his son down, and every camper went silent, gathering together to protect themselves just in case. dionysus was known for treating his campers unfairly, and his harsh treatment was applied to his sons as well. perhaps it was what earned him some more respect – calixto was treated like any other demigod, if not worse. he was the favoured son, as he has been told, yet he was not given any benefits. and whenever dionysus intervened, it was always calixto who got stopped from making the next move. it made him dislike his father, or perhaps dislike the idea that he was always around unlike the other gods. any demigod would have given their lives to live with such an honour, not calixto. he was sick of it.

“now, play nice sirius, and cain, was it? I don’t remember,” he yawned, and called for one of his other children to bring him a fresh cup of wine.

“you literally gave me this name,” calixto grunted, clenching his fists. his father’s refusal to call him by his real name irritated him even more. however, he did not argue much. it was pointless to argue with dionysus. his stubbornness and thick-headedness was definitely passed down to calixto. calixto folded his arms over his chest imposing, still glaring at suho – in his mind, he won this round despite being interrupted. it made him smirk unconsciously, his pretty, naturally wine-hued lips curling up like vine.

“whatever your bickering was about, it upset the sea, blah blah. poseidon wants you to stand down, he’s trying to rest his mind, or something. you know the old man, always speaks nonsense. now, return to your daily, whatever you’re doing, and stop disturbing the campers,” dionysus said and waltzed away with his glass of wine, followed by some satyrs. all the other campers started to leave, until the space was left quite empty. calixto made sure he was gone before suho can catch his eyes again, because he was starting to lose his breath again – seriously now. calixto could not understand why on earth he would feel that way, so he brushed it off.

little did he know, just how terrible the feeling will get over the next few weeks.

-- ( @meikosflower​ )

𝖑𝖆 𝖛𝖎𝖊 𝖊𝖓 𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖊-𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖚.

[vindvin]

𝕿he anger that was bestowed on calixto was unbearable, his fair skin was starting to redden in frustration. how dare he? the impertinent. calixto’s fists were clenched hard – nobody insulted his art and lived to tell the tale. and perhaps on any other day he would have brushed suho’s insult aside – but he could not let it got this time. “someone as talentless as you could never understand pure beauty if it hit them in their ugly face,” calixto was so ready to pounce – he reminded the campers of a predator ready to thorn his prey apart. he was well-aware that physically suho had an advantage – no matter how well-trained calixto was, he was no match for a son of poseidon. still, that did not make him step down, it did not make him not want to punch every single inch of suho’s body, until he bleeds, until he is left to dry, left humiliated. calixto was courageous, and fierce. he wanted to throw a fist, he really did – his friend grabbed it before it went out, pulling calixto away violently. they knew that if there was any type of physical fight, calixto will be knocked unconscious in three easy steps – and then what? they did not want their friend to be humiliated – no matter how much they actually admired suho, and preferred him at times over calixto.

“let me at him, I will rip that grin off his stupid arse face! I will make him caviar,” calixto struggled to free himself, but to no avail. three people were holding him – and no matter how strong he was, he could not beat that. he gave in, and stopped struggling, shooting a venomous look at suho. there was so much hate in his eyes, some of the campers started to fear he was directing his anger at them as well. the aphrodite cabin was all over this tension – they started giggling, throwing cute flowers to make the atmosphere more romantic. some campers from apollo started to sing a love song, and calixto rolled his eyes, and tried to stay calm – but he lost it. and because suho was out of reach, he did the next best thing – he grabbed an aphrodite kid’s collar and shook her with a growl.

“end this nonsense, or I will rip your tongue out,” and he dropped her, watching her run away terrified. her sisters and brothers gasped at the sudden display of violence – it was unusual to see calixto lose his temper this badly. it was often suho who would lose it hard first. one of the aphrodite campers was smirking, knowing the perfect way to make calixto pay for his unnecessary act. she put an infatuation veil around calixto, and suho – forcing them to look at each other long without being able to move. it did not have an immediate effect, and calixto’s rage returned. but the veil worked in different ways – if calixto and suho loved hating each other so much, they will only be able to think about each other, in ways they would not want to. and that should do the trick, it should make them ‘fall’, it should make everyone’s favourite ship sail. she giggled maliciously, and continued to dance around with the apollo campers, calixto giving them a rather puzzled look, deciding to ignore them.

one of calixto’s friends brought him a cup of wine, offering it to him in hopes that it will calm down. instead, calixto made it shot up in the air, directing the stream of wine at suho, hitting him with it point-blank in his chest. the game was on – the sudden giggle, and gasp from the campers took calixto off guard. his powers never did what they just did – there was a love heart where the wine hit suho, and calixto’s attention was directed to an aphrodite kid who was chanting something. he wanted to attack again, but knew better – the last thing he wished for was to have a bloody love curse on his hands.

-- ( @meikosflower​ )

𝖑𝖆 𝖛𝖎𝖊 𝖊𝖓 𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖊-𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖚.