Welcome to Charming, where swirling petticoats, the language of flowers, and old-fashioned duels are only the beginning of what is lying underneath…
After a magical attempt on her life in 1877, Queen Victoria launched a crusade against magic that, while tidied up by the Ministry of Magic, saw the Wizarding community exiled to Hogsmeade, previously little more than a crossroad near the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In the years that have passed since, Hogsmeade has suffered plagues, fires, and Victorian hypocrisy but is still standing firm.
Thethe year is now 1895. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.
With the same account, complete eight different threads where your character interacts with eight different usergroups. At least one must be a non-human, and one a student.
Did You Know?
Braces, or suspenders, were almost universally worn due to the high cut of men's trousers. Belts did not become common until the 1920s. — MJ
Noble was more paranoid about this visit than he was about any of the times she'd visited him — he lifted the anti-apparition charm on his workshop and popped out of the yard with a crack, arriving in the back garden of her aunt's house, which he had scoped out a week or two ago in order to be able to properly visualize it. He'd had to climb a nearby tree to see into the garden — (which had felt, frankly, absurd) — so was not too worried about being spotted, but still hurried to the back door.
He opened it; Rosalie had told him that it would be unlocked, and he was relieved to see that it was. Once he was inside, Noble felt an immediate sense of relief — he smoothed out the creases in his jacket. Being in a house this nice made him feel conscious of his clothing, which was fine but not nice, even if everything he was wearing tonight was fresh out of the laundry.
He'd bought a new cologne that he couldn't really afford, exclusively for this — he smelled like sandalwood and lavender. He was not sure if he hoped that she noticed or if he hoped that she didn't notice. He was nervous; he was anticipatory. He was hoping this would fix him.
Rosalie hadn't stopped fidgeting since excusing the remaining few staff members for the evening. It wasn't uncommon for her to dismiss them on evenings her aunt wasn't around or she had a late shift at the hospital. But still it hadn't stopped the nervous energy from forming. This was risky, riskier even than their rendezvous in the workshop. If their butler came back or a maid came upstairs to retrieve a forgotten linen ... they would undoubtedly be caught.
But, none of that would happen. Because, unlike every other significant moment of her life, nothing would go wrong.
Having heard the crack from the garden, she was already moving through the parlor and towards the door when he called out. "You made it." Rosalie grinned from the doorway only seconds later. "I wasn't sure you would come."
The truth, of course, was that he had thought about skipping this — it was riskier, as neither of them had independent control over this household. It was also risky because he wasn't sure this would work — was not sure that it would help, for either of them. What if they got attached?
He didn't say that; it wasn't romantic. "Of course I came," Noble said. He strode to close the distance between them, and leaned down to kiss her, warm and affectionate. "You look beautiful."
Rosalie had spent an obscene amount of time readying herself for tonight. Her dress, one of her simpler ones, was pressed to perfection; her hair, normally braided into a neat bun, cascaded down her back in soft flowing waves. Even her smoky vanilla scented perfume, which Rosalie had taken great care to apply to more delicate spots, was new for this occasion. For while she still loved her typical citrus based scents, she needed something wholly unique to Noble.
Something to make this feel like less of a betrayal.
She rewarded his compliments with a second, longer lasting kiss, before pulling back far enough to ask, "would you like something to drink before we ..." Her voice trailed off though her meaning was obvious.
He placed one hand on her back and gently tangled his fingers in her hair; he had never seen her with her hair down before, and so rarely saw any woman with her hair down, that there was a novelty to it. (There would be a lot of novelty, tonight.)
And the question of a drink. He did not want to seem too over-eager; he could use gin to alleviate some of his nerves. "Maybe a small drink," Noble said; he whispered it into her ear.
Rosalie could have foregone the drink altogether in favor of finally being permitted to explore his body. Still, she'd made the offer and could hardly refuse him now. With any luck, her forgetting to stash a bottle of liquor in her room would be the only mistake made tonight.
"This way." She murmured and reached for his hand to lead him towards the ornate drink cart in the corner of the parlor. Her aunt had charmed it years ago to remain fully stocked at all times, lest she be mortified at not having a guest's preferred drink of choice. "What would you like? Gin? Whiskey? Vodka?" He'd had wine in his mug that first time they kissed, and while Rosalie was hardly an expert on what liquor men preferred she had to imagine Noble was hoping for something stronger.
Noble followed her dutifully; he was glad that his palms were dry, and not betraying his nerves. "Gin's my favorite," Noble answered; when they came to the drink cart, he rested his free hand on her hip, extremely aware of all the layers that separated them from their mutual goal. Now that he was here, in her aunt's home — it did not seem like very many layers after all.
He kissed her earlobe; there was no reason that the drink could prevent them from starting some intimacies now.
Gin, she supposed that was an easy enough choice. However, Noble's closeness and continued intimacy as she tried to pour them both a drink caused her hand to tremble slightly. The few drops she missed landed mutely upon the carpet, a mess she'd deal with later. (If she even remembered the mess at all with what was to come.)
The glass she handed him was more than a small drink, an unintentional mistake but not one she thought he'd mind. After a few sips, she discarded her drink back onto the cart and rested both of her hands on his waist before leaning up to pepper kisses along his neck and jaw.
Noble took a few sips of the gin, hoping it would steady his nerves. If anything, the taste of the liquor increased the hum of his blood in his ears — he was really here, for this. If they did not complete things tonight, it would be a disappointment to them both. He could not fail.
He'd drank half the gin in a few gulping sips; hopefully she would not judge him. Noble set the gin down on the cart and ran his hand up and down her back, along her spine — with the hand on her waist, he pulled her towards him.
Noble could've downed the entirety of the gin and Rosalie wouldn't have noticed, not when she felt as though she would combust any moment from the desire pulsing through her veins. It'd been months of foreplay, months of kisses and touches, months of going home wanting.
Neither of them would be left wanting after tonight. She was determined to ensure that.
"No more gin." She repeated at a near whisper before leaning up to kiss him twice. Then, in the same low voice, she added, "my room is up that way."
Noble backed up the stairs, kissing her off and on all the while, until he was backed into Rosalie's bedroom. (He had never been in the bedroom of a woman he was not related to before.) He ran one hand up and down her back again. "Can I undress you?" Noble asked — it seemed the most pressing thing, although he was not sure how to undress her.
Rosalie hadn't thought to be nervous to share her bedroom — her safe haven — until Noble was standing inside it. They had always done this in his space and Rosalie quietly preferred it that way. She had already had to run from her home once to flee the memories trapped within. If she had to run again ... well, there weren't many places left to go.
His hand on her back broke through some of the nervousness, something she silently thanked him by with another kiss. "Only if you let me do the same." Rosalie said as she opened the top of his shirt buttons.
"Of course," Noble said, trying for bravado — he did not want her to know how nervous he was. Carefully, but not particularly gracefully, he started untying the back of her house dress. He leaned down to kiss her, hoping that doing so would distract from his awkwardness.
His inexperience in undressing women was obvious, as the entire process would have been far smoother if she were to turn away from him. However, Rosalie was hesitant to say or do anything at this point that might put a stop to this evening. She'd been close to true satisfaction before, had thought to give up her innocence in a closet at a party, and a wrong answer had ruined it all. And while she'd gone further now with Noble than any other man, that night still left a desperation in her that she was eager to forget.
Rosalie returned his kiss softly as she slowly worked on his buttons. Eventually, her dress in a puddle at her feet, and his jacket and shirt were both completely undone. There were still far too many layers to contend with (really, why hadn't she changed into her night dress?) when she pulled back just enough to breathe, "it's easier to do the rest if I'm facing away from you."
A flush appeared on Noble's face. "Oh," he said, and moved behind her to do the rest. He shed his shirt and jacket. He felt horribly bared, with his chest out, and there was a little bit of relief in having her face away from him. He kissed the back of her neck.
"I'll undo your corset now," he said quietly, and started unlacing it at the back. There were more layers than he'd expected — more layers than he had, for sure.
She was hyper aware of his movements without the distraction of undressing him. Every brush of his fingers on her back through her chemise caused her heart to skip a beat. The warmth of his breath on her neck threatened to set her aflame. Rosalie gripped the top of her corset to save it from falling to the ground, but also to give her something to hold onto while he worked out the last few loops.
It wasn't until her corset and petticoats were added to the growing pile on the floor that Rosalie realized how exposing this level of intimacy was. Every experience she had thus far included her skirts being rucked up and her partner's hands beneath them. This — standing before him in only her chemise and stockings — made her skin flush with nervousness.
Her cheeks were still flushed as she turned back towards him. It was impossible not to look at his bare chest, at the thin covering of hair there and the definition of his arms. Her throat was impossibly dry as she asked, "can I touch you?"
![[Image: R8WsUdP.jpeg]](https://i.imgur.com/R8WsUdP.jpeg)
![[Image: o7xGVB5.png]](https://i.imgur.com/o7xGVB5.png)