Tumgik
#and experience for the first time the magic of being gently crushed while napping
nananarc · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Ashtray . 2023
(Yeah no don't worry she's a 120kg cyborg that can crush his skull with a squeeze of her hands if she wants)
PopArt Colorful Alt Versions on my Patreon:
152 notes · View notes
valdemart · 3 years
Text
Valdebreed Part 2
Us: *votes for courtier content*
Nyx Hydra: Yeah we’re not gonna actually do that lol
I tried to keep Valdemar as in character as possible but honestly? Fuck cannon. If Nyx Hydra isn’t going to feed us, I am! Come get y’all lunch!
NSFW ValdemarxReader Consentacles, way too much cum, dirty talking Valdemar, breeding kink, ruined furniture, pet names, after care probably a rushed intro but fuck it.
After pulling yourself together and freshening up in a very well-earned bath, you made your way back to your room where Valdemar waited.
The fire place had been lit. It was also the only light in the room. If it hadn’t been your own room, you might have bumped into something as you made your way over to where you could see Valdemar.
When you first moved in, there had been a chair in the library that you had fallen in love with. It was an oversized arm chair, big enough to curl up in, made of burgundy velvet. You sank into it like a spoiled house cat and read for hours at a time. Valdemar had found you napping in it at some point and shortly after you had found it had been moved to your room. That’s where they sat now. Naked.
 Valdemar never disrobed. Ever. Honestly, you had wondered a few times if their clothing wasn’t part of their actual body. This wasn’t their ‘real’ form, after all. You wouldn’t have been totally shocked to learn that their coat was just their true form’s arm or something, molded to look like clothing. Apparently, you were wrong. All of their skin was the same olive hue as their face and hands, the only other skin of theirs you had really seen before. They were a rectangular shape, their waist only dipping in slightly beneath their ribcage before fulling out to their hips. Their ribs were almost all entirely visible, the shadows cast by the firelight highlighting each groove and protuberance. And sitting on those ribs were the tiniest handfuls of breast tissue, with such perfectly symmetrical shape and nipples that they very obviously weren’t ‘human’. You’d only ever known breasts to be perfect mirror images of each other on statues. You could follow their legs up to their lap, but then all you could make out was shadow.
They were breathtakingly and horrifyingly beautiful.
“I think I’m…overdressed,” you said, your voice so thick with anticipation that you had to pause to swallow before you could finish your sentence.
“For now. I thought this particular situation called for some vulnerability on my part. Disrobe, Little Mouse.”
You slid off your robe and let it pool at your feet, leaving you as bare as they were.
“Come to me.”
You were before them in an instant, desperate to be near them. On them. Filled with them.
“Sit.”
You straddled their lap slowly, knowing the extent of their strength, but still slightly put off by the sight of their ribs. Parts of your brain seemed to have mistaken them for human.
You shivered as your chest pressed against theirs and your nipples hardened against their cool skin. You noticed quietly that theirs were still unerect and soft against you. Their hands wrapped around you gently, their fingers somehow sliding perfectly into the spaces between your ribs where they connected to your spine. If they squeezed, they could probably collapse your whole chest cavity. You had seen them crush a femur in their fist like it had been made out of sugar.
“We’re you ready to begin the experiment, Mouseling?”
“Kiss me first?”
Their lips were cold and thin and they felt so good against your heated skin.
There was loud crackling noise, too loud to have been from the fireplace, followed by a grotesque, wet sound. It sounded like someone was butchering a chicken right in front of you and you would have fallen back to the floor in surprise if Valdemar hadn’t been holding you.
You only saw it for a second but, in the firelight, you saw a cleft on Valdemar’s sternum that started to split open further like the skin was being retracted. You yelped and Valdemar reached out to grab your chin and hold your head upright.
“Look at me, Mouseling. Look only at me.”
They released your chin but your eyes never left theirs. You watched the flames behind you flicker in their red eyes as something unimaginably horrible was happening right below you. The sound traveled downward until it stopped where their genitals would be. Then it was quiet again. You could feel the dark energy emanating from just a few inches below you, but your eyes never left Valdemar’s and you weren’t sure if it was from fear or servility.
“Such an obedient little thing,” Valdemar praised as they brushed your hair off your face. You were sweating despite the chill of their skin and your head was swimming. Their magic tended to do that to you. Asra’s magic and your own magic never made you sick, but Valdemar’s always did. You weren’t sure if it was because it came from a different source or because it was too strong for you. Asra said it was a much older, much darker magic, and that even he wasn’t completely sure he understood it. That had upset you at first, and you tried to argue with him that Valdemar wasn’t evil and you were sick of everyone’s constant comments about it, but he merely placed a finger to your lips to silence you and said ‘I said dark energy, not evil energy’. To Asra’s credit, he handled your relationship with the doctor better than most people had.
But what would he think about a baby?
“Allow me to show you just how satisfying that which you fear is.”
Several appendages the width of a finger started to caress your body, making you jerk away against them, but Valdemar held you steady and your eyes never left theirs. They stared at you, unblinking and smiling softly, as their little tendrils fondled your stomach and legs. They were wet and soft like small tongues, and they left trails of moisture wherever they lapped. While they were a little unnerving, the sensation was like nothing you had felt before. Especially when they found your breasts. They flicked against your nipples flatly before wrapping around them to tug lightly. Your clit pulsed desperately with each little caress and your wet hole clenched around nothing, leaving you feeling desperately empty.
You groaned softly and bucked forward, trying to guide even one of those tendrils to where you now needed it most.
“Impatient?” Valdemar asked, knowing damned well the answer to their own question. “We have the rest of eternity.”  
Still, the tendrils descended then. Some softly pulled your lips apart, exposing you, while others tasted you. Two alternated flicks against your clitoris while three or maybe four slid into you at varying depths.
You keened and bucked into Valdemar’s lap, but you knew nothing you could do would change anything they had planned for you.
“Let’s get you nice and prepared to take my seed.”
It didn’t take long for the appendages to lubricate you, perhaps excessively so. Your body was wet now, and it caused you to shiver against the air.
The tendrils working your body withdrew, and you whined pitifully.
“Hush, Pet,” Valdemar said softly, though clearly unannoyed.
There was a singular tendril then, thicker than any of the last ones. A blunt head prodded you gently for a moment before sliding fully inside. Its girth stretched you, but whatever Valdemar had covered you in took away all resistance.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and, for a moment, you were worried they wouldn’t come back. This was so much more than anything Valdemar had ever given you. You doubted Valdemar had an established phallus, especially since they shapeshifted every other part of their physical form. This huge thing inside of you was made specifically because they wanted you helplessly full, pinned from the inside.
“I c-cant…Val…”
You weren’t asking for them to stop. No, this was delicious. You need this. But it was so, so much.
“You can. And you will.”
The phallus withdrew slowly to the tip before sliding back in just as slowly, all while Valdemar didn’t move a muscle. It was so typical of the demon, to wreck you without any indication of physical response on their end. They were going to fuck you and anyone watching would think they had nothing to do with it.
Valdmar’s…cock? For lack of a better comparison in your mind fucked you in the uniform way Valdemar did anything. While it lacked human variation, it was unrelenting in its endeavor to impregnant you.
“I can feel your little cunt milking me. Your body’s as desperate to get pregnant as you are.”
Your head dropped with a heavy moan and Valdemar shifted back, taking your full weight against them. If this dicking didn’t kill you, them talking like that certainly would. The heat inside of you was becoming unbearable. All you needed was a little bit more.
“Can you go faster?” You asked softly as you jerked your hips forward into their thrusting.
“Weren’t you just saying you couldn’t handle things as they were?”
You whined pitifully at their teasing.
“Please? Please? Please?”
With each beg you humped yourself harder. You could feel your climax mounting and all you wanted was to finish with Valdemar this deep inside of you. You weren’t above begging.
“Of course, Duckling. We need your orgasm to move my ejaculate to your womb.”
Their weird medical speak should have been embarrassing, but your walls fluttered around them.
One of their hands found the back of your head while the other wrapped around your waist. When Valdemar pushed back into you, it was a sharp, hard thrust and you cried out before you fell forward. You moaned loudly into the fabric of the chair and Valdemar held you against it.
“I have you.”
The tentacle started to piston in and out of you, the speed of the penetration through both of your fluids making the most unholy of sounds, like someone drowning in mud. Your body jiggled and shuddered against Valdemar as they remained perfectly still while they kept you caged to them.
“Val! Val-d-de-mah! Ah! Ah! Ah!”
It was right there. You could feel yourself about to snap. Just a little more. Oh, please just a little more. Oh please oh please oh please oh please
A few of the small tendrils from earlier reappeared to lap at your clit and you screamed into the chair. As you contracted around the still thrusting phallus, you could feel it erupt. The fluid coming out of it wasn’t hot or cold, but there was a ridiculous amount of it. It squirted inside of you before you felt it leak out around the two of you, quickly causing a puddle to form in Valdemar’s lap. Despite this, they were still moving in and out of you, fucking their cum back inside of you as it came out.
Too spent to try and wiggle away from the overstimulation, you whimpered for mercy.
“ ‘S too much. Val…”.
“I’m only trying to make sure you’re completely inseminated. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Despite their teasing, their tendril retracted out of you. You shuddered, both thankful for the break and grieving the loss of fullness.  
“Val…That was crazy…”
“Science often is.”
It wasn’t hard for Valdemar to maneuver you onto your back in their lap, despite you being completely dead weight. Hooking one arm under your knees, they elevated your lower body and cradled you.
“You’re being too wasteful with my sperm, Little One. You need to be more grateful.”
Finally able to look at yourself, you saw that you were bathed almost completely in black. It started around your breasts where the tendrils had played with you and you grew darker the further down yourself you looked. Of course, Valdemar came black. You doubted anything viable in terms of offspring would actually come of this, but the closeness, the intimacy, that was what you had really needed. The brain melting orgasm hadn’t hurt either.
“I love you.”
Valdemar hummed in acknowledgement before softly running a finger down your stomach, through the gummy pitch they had covered you in, before tracing small circles around your womb.
Every time the fire flickered, the lighting on their face changed, making them look like they were morphing briefly. You couldn’t help but smile.
“We’re going to have such cute kids.”
148 notes · View notes
bettydice · 4 years
Text
I didn’t expect you to be lonely (too)
Xicheng, Modern AU, JC&WWX reconciliation, E-Rated 
[Read on AO3]
Chapter 2
Friday
Jiang Cheng leaves the subway station, only to find out that it’s raining. Of course he didn’t bring an umbrella, so he pulls up his hood and runs all the way to Lan Xichen’s apartment. He manages to stay mostly dry, so he won’t be dripping all over Lan Xichen’s hardwood floors. Which would’ve been awkward and awkward is what he’s trying to avoid. No awkwardness will happen because Jiang Cheng is a mess of a person. No awkwardness will happen because Lan Xichen is gorgeous and sweet and amazing and… it will not factor into his behaviour today. He is determined to forget he ever-
“Jiang Wanyin, hello!” Lan Xichen opens the door, smiling, his short hair slightly tousled. He’s still very tall and handsome.
Fuck. He’s doomed.
After Jiang Cheng has taken off his wet sneakers and jacket, Lan Xichen leads him into the ‘therapy room’, towards a massage table covered with a large white towel. He explains that his treatment today will include some sort of ‘hot clay’ to loosen his muscles. After, Lan Xichen will give him a massage, but only a very gentle one for his neck - shoulders - jaw. Jiang Cheng once again smiles and nods, follows Lan Xichen’s instructions without questions.
He waits while Lan Xichen gets the hot clay (which is supposedly not gonna stick to his skin), takes off his shirt and lies down on the brown clay pad once Lan Xichen returns.
“Comfortable?” Lan Xichen smiles down at him. Jiang Cheng really needs him to stop smiling.
“Mhm.” It feels weird, but not uncomfortable. Any discomfort he feels stems from Jiang Cheng’s own issues, nothing to do with the treatment.
Lan Xichen wraps the towel around Jiang Cheng, tucks the ends in under him. He feels like a mummy. Lan Xichen fetches a smaller towel from a shelf and wraps it around Jiang Cheng’s feet.
“So they don’t get cold.”
Jiang Cheng half expects Lan Xichen to kiss his forehead and wish him a good night. Which is exactly the kind of thought he wasn’t going to think today.
Lan Xichen stands next to his head and, of course, smiles down at him. “Would you like some calming music? I also have generic nature sounds available. Or quiet, of course, if you prefer.”
“Music would be nice. Thank you.”
“Alright! I’ll come back in about twenty minutes. Yell if you need anything. And if you feel like you’re falling asleep - don’t fight it.”
Lan Xichen gives him one last look over, tucks the towel in a bit more, goes to the shelf to turn on the music, then leaves the room quietly.
For the first few minutes, all of this is just weird. His back is warm, is hot, and sweaty. And he can’t move. Being wrapped up like this… It’s like being hugged. One of those tight octopus hugs Wei Wuxian used to give him when he was drunk. One of those tight hugs Wei Wuxian allowed Jiang Cheng to give him whenever he thought he’d fall apart otherwise.
Another thing he wasn’t going to think of today. Or ever.
He tries to focus on the astonishingly generic music, on what he can see of the room (various exercise equipment, way less plants than in the living room, but still more than he’d expected to see in this type of setting, the white ceiling). By now, it feels as though the heat has seeped into his muscles, into his bones and his entire body just feels… warm. Maybe he’d go even so far as to use the word ‘cozy’.
Jiang Cheng, who never relaxes, feels like napping after… well, he’s not sure. He doesn’t know what time it is, he doesn’t have to move. All he needs to do right now is lie here and feel warm and wrapped up and listen to zither sounds and… Maybe he’ll just close his eyes for a second.
A hand touches his shoulder and he rapidly opens his eyes. Lan Xichen is standing next to him again - he must have fallen asleep. Jiang Cheng tries to sit up, only to remember that he’s currently wrapped up like a spring roll.
“Good morning,” Lan Xichen laughs lightly. He somehow has this ability to express amusement about something Jiang Cheng does without him feeling mocked.
“Ah, I guess I nodded off a little…” Jiang Cheng hopes any redness in his face can be explained away by the hot clay.
“Wonderful! Let’s unwrap you then, so I can stretch and massage your neck, shoulders and jaw. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay.”
Lan Xichen opens his blanket wrap, guides him to sit upright so he can remove the mud pad, then has him lie back down on the towel.
"You can close your eyes, if you want. I'll start light, then slowly increase pressure." Lan Xichen stands behind him, so Jiang Cheng can’t see him anymore. Probably better that way.
Jiang Cheng closes his eyes and tries to hold on to the relaxed feel of being in the hot wrap. At the first touch of Lan Xichen's fingers, he almost twitches, but manages to hold back.
Lan Xichen starts the massage where his shoulders meet his neck and fuck, it's amazing. As though Lan Xichen can see exactly where Jiang Cheng's tension lies.
Lan Xichen works his way slowly up Jiang Cheng's neck, fingers magically finding the worst spots. Not cruelly digging into them like Jiang Cheng expected, but gently pressing, almost soothing, in circles.
It feels… it had already felt so good when he'd only touched him briefly. This feels intimate to Jiang Cheng in a way that's probably very inappropriate and maybe even pathetic. Nobody touches him like this, right where he’s hurt the most. There's no one who handles him so gently, so carefully.
It's the gentleness that's his undoing, he thinks. He would be able to deal better with it if it was painful.
And… He can't think about the time someone last touched him like this, because he can't actually remember. Because no one wants to touch him like this. Jiang Cheng is so prickly, he stings everyone that gets close to him. That tries to love him.
So they stop trying.
Jiang Cheng does not think that anyone has ever loved him for him. Has ever loved him as a choice. Yanli and Wei Wuxian love him, because he’s their brother, because they’re used to him, because they have big hearts that can even find space for someone like Jiang Cheng.
His mother loved him, he thinks. But it was not a gentle love and there are even days where Jiang Cheng doesn’t miss that love at all. He’s not sure whether those are good or bad days.
His friends were always Wei Wuxian’s friends first. When he told Wei Wuxian to get out of his life, and Wei Wuxian, who has never listened to anything Jiang Cheng told him to do, actually followed… he took his friends with him.
Maybe leaving Jiang Cheng was easy. Maybe he’s glad he doesn’t have to put up with him anymore. It’s not like he can’t understand. Jiang Cheng is not an easy person to love, maybe it’s even impossible. So why would Wei Wuxian, who can love anyone and who can be loved by everyone, want to live with him? If Jiang Cheng had the choice, he wouldn’t live with himself either.
Lan Xichen's thumb digs into a spot behind his jaw and the slight pain drags him back into reality. Right. The fuck is he doing, lying here, thinking depressing thoughts? Why is he feeling sad about something he himself is responsible for?
Why is he… fuck, is that a tear running down the side of his face, towards his ear?
He’s fucking crying.
But it’s just one tear, right? That can be explained away. It was… the light. Or allergies. Or...
He's really so pathetic, lying here, crying because he's sad and lonely and nobody loves him and his schoolboy crush is his massage therapist and this touch is the most intimate touch he's had in what feels like years and Wei Wuxian has a boyfriend he didn't know about, a boyfriend who's meeting his sister and whose brother is meeting his sister, and everyone is happy without him, aren't they? And Jiang Cheng will probably die alone and miserable, because it’s what he deserves.
Lan Xichen's fingers are so gentle, he can't stand it.
Now he's crying for real.
He can't help it. This is why Jiang Cheng never allows himself to cry. Because he doesn't know how to stop.
Lan Xichen stills his hands. There's no way he hasn't noticed, not when Jiang Cheng is drawing in a shuddering breath, when he’s outright sobbing.
Jiang Cheng thinks about apologising, but what can he even say? There's no way to explain this. If he tried to talk right now, it would probably be even more embarrassing than this whole thing already is. So he just keeps his eyes shut and tries to quell the sobs trying to escape from his throat and tries to stop the tears from dripping down his face. But he can’t!
He just. Can't. Stop. Fucking. Crying.
Lan Xichen lifts his hands, probably to flee the room, but then one settles on top of Jiang Cheng’s forehead and the other supports his neck, simply holding his head. At first, Jiang Cheng is mortified. Lan Xichen should just leave and spare them both the embarrassment.
But he can’t help but feel reassured by the steady pressure of Lan Xichen’s hands. He experiences a weird dichotomy of it making him feel less alone while at the same time emphasizing how very lonely he actually is.
So he tries not to think about anything anymore, only focuses on the warmth of Lan Xichen's hands, the uneventful music still playing in the background and waits for his tears to stop flowing.
They do, eventually.
For a minute or so Jiang Cheng lies motionless, not daring to open his eyes and face the undoubtedly horrified and/or pitying look on Lan Xichen's face.
Before he can decide on the least pathetic way to handle all this, Lan Xichen takes away his hands, gets up and says: "I'll be in the living room. Take your time."
Then he leaves the room and closes the door behind him.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck.
What is fucking wrong with him???
Who has a nervous breakdown on a massage table???
Jiang Cheng sits up and buries his face in the towel, vaguely hoping this is all just a bad dream. It would be on brand for his dreams: start with a relaxing massage from a handsome man, only to leave him crying and feeling pathetic and useless. The only thing missing is his mother telling him he'll never achieve anything and if he insists on following Wei Wuxian’s lead like this, the least he could do is be at least half as intelligent, did he really think she wouldn't hear about the fact he only got a C+ on his last math test?
He'll have to leave this room eventually and face Lan Xichen and apologise for this and if there's one way to guarantee that this will never be nothing more than a one sided crush, this should be it. Probably better that way.
Jiang Cheng lowers the towel, puts on his t-shirt and pullover and dares to look in the mirror. Shit. He looks like shit. Oh well, the upside to this is that his looks don't matter at all anymore, nothing could make this worse or salvage it in any way.
He takes a deep breath and opens the door. Across from him, a door is open that wasn't open before. It seems to be the door to the bathroom. Lan Xichen probably left it open on purpose, because he's fucking considerate like that. Jiang Cheng decides to honour this consideration and enters the large, bright, wonderful, fancy bathroom. There are plants here, too. A large bathtub and a walk-in shower. It should be so fancy that it's annoying, but instead it just… makes him want to take a fucking bath. It really is impossible to dislike anything about Lan Xichen.
He washes his face with cold water, then doesn't know what to dry his face with. Since he doesn't want to take a fresh towel out of the cupboard, he uses his t-shirt. The mirror tells him that he looks slightly less as though he just had a mental breakdown. Well, that's something.
He could just leave… But Lan Xichen deserves better than that.
When he enters the living room, Lan Xichen is busy misting a large plant next to the couch with a golden spray bottle.
A teapot and two mugs are on the low table and next to one mug sits a large glass of water.
Jiang Cheng awkwardly clears his throat. Lan Xichen turns around and smiles again when he sees him, as though everything is completely normal.
"Sit down, I made us some tea. I also poured you some water."
Lan Xichen sits down on the couch and Jiang Cheng sits in the comfortable chair again, immediately reaching for the glass of water. That Lan Xichen poured for him because Jiang Cheng just sobbed all over his massage table, his fingers too, and Lan Xichen probably is concerned there's no water in his body left.
Then he notices he's gulped down the entire glass, because he can't ever do anything normally or in moderation, can he. He puts the glass back, and steels himself for talking.
"Lan-laoshi… I'm…"
"No need to explain." Lan Xichen smiles at him, full of… Not pity. Understanding. Fuck, he’s probably used to having weird clients. "Everyone needs a good cry sometimes."
"Still… I shouldn't just throw my emotional meltdown at you, when… I'm really sorry, I don't even know why…The heat pack and the massage both felt really good… "
Lan Xichen pours him some tea, then himself too and looks at Jiang Cheng, considering. "Sometimes, things that feel good can be harder to bear. An unexpected kindness, someone being sincere… It can be almost painful, when we have hardship in our lives. And maybe we don't fully realise how bad things have been, how unkind, until we're confronted with something truly nice. So there's no need to feel ashamed. Catharsis is a good thing."
Jiang Cheng's first instinct is to ask who's ever dared to be unkind to Lan Xichen so he can go beat them up. There's a tinge of sadness to Lan Xichen's smile that shouldn't be there. Is that why he… Jiang Cheng would’ve preferred to be pitied then, if it meant Lan Xichen couldn’t relate to such a situation. His second instinct is to cry again, because fuck!
Jiang Cheng ignores both of those instincts, tries for sort-of-humour instead. "I don't know about this catharsis… I can't say I feel great now."
"No?" Lan Xichen laughs gently. "Maybe it takes a while to arrive."
Jiang Cheng is sceptical but he tries to smile, too, and takes a sip from the tea.
"Do you like bunnies?" Lan Xichen asks out of the blue.
"Uhm, yeah, sure?" What… what?
"Excellent. Wait here."
Jiang Cheng waits for… for what? What is going on?
Lan Xichen returns after a minute… With a bunny.
"Are you a fu-... A magician? Where did you-" The fuck?
"The balcony."
Right. A pet. Not a magician. Though Lan Xichen does look pretty magical as he approaches him with the fluffy bunny. All white except for grey paws. Adorable.
Then Lan Xichen actually hands him the bunny.
"Are you sure?" Jiang Cheng is already holding out his hands, because he does really like bunnies, likes all animals, really.
"Of course. Jade is very nice, you'll definitely feel better if you hold her."
Well… Jiang Cheng is not going to look a surprise gift bunny in the mouth. He carefully accepts Jade, positions her on his arm and smiles down at her, stroking her soft fur.
"Hello, Jade. You're very cute, aren't you?"
"She's exceptionally cute." Lan Xichen crouches down next to them and smiles at the bunny. He is… exceptionally pretty. "I'm very lucky. The bunnies belong to my brother, but he couldn't take them with him when he moved out, so they're in my care now."
"Bunnies plural?"
"Oh yes, there's also Cloud! She's in a bad mood today though, only turned her back on me when I approached. There's a picture of her with Wangji!"
Lan Zichen points at one of several picture frames on a shelf. Jiang Cheng had avoided looking at anything in this flat too closely so far, because he didn't want to invade Lan Xichen’s privacy more than necessary. So Lan Xichen's brother (and Wei Wuxian’s boyfriend) is Lan Wangji. They do look related, even though Lan Wangji looks as though he's never smiled in his life. Maybe that's why Lan Xichen smiles so often - balance.
He does not look like the kind of person who would want to keep up with Wei Wuxian, but then again, everyone ends up loving Wei Wuxian.
Well, most people.
"Cloud also looks very cute. Your brother looks…"
"Ah, Wangji hates smiling for cameras. And he's very good at not doing things he hates - an enviable character trait." Lan Xichen says this very casually, maybe didn't mean anything by it, but Jiang Cheng is still taken aback a little.
There's… Lan Xichen’s face is like looking into a pond that appears perfectly serene and pleasant and it's easy to miss the less pleasant things hidden in the murky waters if you're not looking closely.
Lan Xichen notices him staring, laughs a little embarrassed, then starts petting Jade, too. It effectively distracts Jiang Cheng, because now he's trying to stroke Jades fur without making their hands touch, while at the same time wishing they would.
"Do you feel better now?" Lan Xichen asks after one or two minutes.
"I do, thank you."
"I'm glad. Are you here with the subway or by bus?"
"Subway, why? Is it raining again?" Jiang Cheng looks out the window, but while it's cloudy, it doesn't seem to rain. He really needs to start getting into the habit of bringing an umbrella everywhere.
"I could drive you home if you want. You've had… an exhausting afternoon. And I've found that public transportation can increase sadness… But maybe that's just me."
"Oh, you don't have to do that. I've already inconvenienced you enough today.” By sobbing through his massage. Fuck. He should just focus on the bunny. And maybe leave the flat as soon as possible?
"It would be no trouble." Lan Xichen, still crouching down, still petting Jade, smiles up at him.
"Uhm…" Confronted with this view, Jiang Cheng forgets why he wanted to say no. "Thank you?"
"My pleasure!" Lan Xichen sounds as though he really means it. As if this whole afternoon hasn’t been a pathetic disaster.
"You're really good at your job." He just kind of blurts that out without really thinking about it.
Lan Xichen looks surprised, as if it’s the first time he’s hearing it, which cannot be true. He’s objectively very good at his job and at being a wonderful human being. "That's kind of you to say. Even though we haven't really started yet - I hope I will be able to keep this good impression up."
"I just meant… You make me… People… it's easy to relax here. And even after…" Jiang Cheng waves one hand towards the therapy room. "I don't feel horrible. Usually, I would be mortified and regretting my entire life and probably cancelling all further appointments by now.”
“Ah… I think Jade should get most of that credit.” Lan Xichen stands upright again and sits down opposite of him. “Though I am glad you don’t want to cancel your appointments. You’re very tense after all and half a session is really not enough to take care of that.”
Lan Xichen’s eyes sparkle with humour and Jiang Cheng gives a surprised laugh. For a second, they simply look at each other, smiling. Jiang Cheng can’t remember the last time he smiled this much. Maybe with A-Ling?
"Do you have food at home? For dinner?"
"Huh? Uhm…" Jiang Cheng thinks of his sad fridge. He's been meaning to go grocery shopping, but has been living off dry cereal and take-out the past few days. "Well, I'm sure I can manage to scrounge something together."
Lan Xichen frowns. "Is there a grocery store close by? We could stop there first. Or maybe you can pick something up from a restaurant. Is there something you particularly like?"
Jiang Cheng stares. "I'm not fussy." Lan Xichen seems to expect a more detailed response, so he tries. "My favourite food is my sister's lotus rib soup. It's comforting."
Lan Xichen's face lights up. "Oh, of course! I actually have some of that in my freezer! Your sister gave it to me when I was there for dinner, to eat on a rainy day. I'll heat it up."
"You have… You do?" Bunnies and his sister’s soup in one day? Maybe Lan Xichen actually can do magic.
"if you don't have other dinner plans. Sorry, I don't want to be overbearing or…"
"Are you sure it's not too much. You've already been too nice…" And he’s been this nice to Jiang Cheng. Who is a disaster and doesn’t deserve it.
"Ah, I don't think it's possible to be 'too nice'. And I enjoy your company.“
That last part can't be true.
Jiang Cheng is staring at Lan Xichen again, at a loss for words, until Jade gets annoyed she's not being petted and tries to escape from his lap.
"Maybe we'll better put her back in the enclosure."
Lan Xichen gets up and motions him to follow him on the balcony (gigantic, full of plants) and opens the flap to the bunny enclosure (also gigantic) so Jiang Cheng can deposit Jade. He can see Cloud in the bunny house but as soon as she sees them, she turns around.
"I think I have offended her somehow. I'll have to apologise later," Lan Xichen sighs, smiling ruefully at the bunny. "She's just as stubborn as Wangji, probably why he's her favourite."
Jiang Cheng waves to say goodbye to Jade, who ignores him to chew some hay.
"I'll go heat up the soup. Make yourself comfortable in the living room." Lan Xichen waves his hand towards the couch and leaves the room.
Jiang Cheng follows Lan Xichen into the kitchen, instead of sitting awkwardly in the living room by himself. As every other room, it's large and bright and cozy and full of plants.
Lan Xichen smiles over his shoulder when he sees that Jiang Cheng followed him and gestures towards the kitchen table. Jiang Cheng sits down.
"All your plants are very beautiful. I can't even keep a cactus alive."
"Oh, thank you. I have… Maybe too many. My brother frowns in a very specific way every time I buy a new one. But I like taking care of them and I like having all this nature around me." Lan Xichen looks a little embarrassed and Jiang Cheng doesn't know why.
"I think this is very impressive; you're able to keep all these plants alive. They probably all have different requirements, too." He looks at the plant next to him, which has long twines that are hanging down from where it's sitting on the kitchen shelf.
"Well, that one is very easy going actually. One of my first houseplants. I only had a handful at first and then it just kind of escalated." Lan Xichen has taken the tupperware out of the freezer and is heating it up in the microwave. He gets out two bowls and two spoons and hands them to Jiang Cheng, so he can set the table.
"I think I'd be too worried about doing something wrong or forgetting to water them and killing all the plants."
"I may research every plant I buy and keep the information in a binder. And maybe I also made a watering schedule." Lan Xichen clears his throat, but smiles. "Though there was the occasional plant I couldn't save, no matter what I tried."
"That must've been sad, after all the care."
"Ah, it was. Which is why my brother thinks I'm too attached.”
“Too attached?”
“He thinks I cried when it was clear my calathea couldn’t be saved.”
There’s a light flush on Lan Xichen’s cheeks. So likely his brother’s assumption was correct. But he really shouldn’t be embarrassed. There’s no need to be, when he’s just being sweet and caring and Jiang Cheng is the one who just had a meltdown for literally no reason.
“Last month, I cried when I broke a mug,” Jiang Cheng says without thinking about it. Then he cringes. Why would he say that and make himself out to be even more of a volatile mess than Lan Xichen probably already considers him to be?
Lan Xichen only looks relieved though. “Sometimes it’s the little things, isn’t it?”
“Clearly we need the catharsis.”
“Ah yes, I really should listen to my own advice sometimes, shouldn’t I?” The ding of the microwave interrupts them and Lan Xichen fills the soup into a pot, to finish reheating it on the stove. The familiar smell of Jiang Yanli’s soup reaches Jiang Cheng and for a second he believes everything will be alright.
“Your sister is really very lovely. Your brother was asking for the leftover soup but she insisted on giving it to me.”
Right. Wei Wuxian is dating Lan Xichen’s brother and they’re meeting with Jiang Yanli and having her perfect soup without him, because Jiang Cheng is a huge asshole and soup tastes better without him.
***
“A-jie, let me have the last spoon. Please? Xianxian has worked so hard today.” Wei Wuxian pouts and bats his eyelashes at their sister.
“Can you stop that disgusting baby talk? And you got up at 2 p.m. today, you haven’t done shit yet!”
“Hey! I did our laundry, didn’t ?”
“You just stuffed it in the washing machine and then forgot about it! I started it!”
“Whatever, you only pressed a button, I collected your gross dirty socks.”
“Jiejie, I should have the last spoon, because I managed to get Wei Wuxian here on time and we all know that’s nearly impossible.” Jiang Cheng lifts his bowl and smiles at his sister.
“Shut up!”
“Maybe I could have the last spoon of soup, because I have sat through dinner with your brothers and not complained once,” his brother-in-law has the audacity to say.
Jiang Yanli laughs, so very fond of them all, and splits the last bit of soup between all of them.
***
Warm steam caresses his face and Jiang Cheng blinks a few times and returns to the present. Lan Xichen is sitting across from him, both bowls filled with fragrant soup, and he’s looking at him with a question in his eyes. How long has Jiang Cheng zoned out?
“Sorry, I just...” Why does his voice sound so rough? He cannot, he cannot cry again. And how is he planning on finishing that sentence? He can’t think of anything, so he doesn’t, only awkwardly shrugs his shoulders, makes an apologetic face.
“Let’s enjoy this soup, shall we?” Lan Xichen, as always, somehow manages to make the situation less embarrassing than it should be.
They eat the soup in companionable silence. It’s weird though. It’s warm, it’s comforting, it’s his jiejie’s soup, which instantly makes him feel better. But he’s eating it without his family. At least he’s not eating it alone in his sad, too large apartment.
Lan Xichen keeps smiling at him in between spoonfuls of soup. It does complicated things to Jiang Cheng’s heart. He’s been so determined to ignore his resurfaced attraction to Lan Xichen but it’s becoming clear that it would be impossible. Nevermind the fact that Lan Xichen looks like … well, looks like that. He handed Jiang Cheng a bunny to cheer him up. He made him his sister’s soup. He’s just so fucking nice and considerate and gentle and fuck, it would be so nice to kiss him, wouldn’t it.
Fuck, why is he always doing this!? Getting ahead of himself. Attributing a lot of meaning to little things nobody else sees in the same light. Falling for people who know better than to do the same.
He’ll just eat his soup, let Lan Xichen drive him home and then continue with these sessions, hopefully without crying again. He’ll be a little in love with Lan Xichen the entire time but he’s very good at never acting on stuff like that, so it’ll be fine.
Maybe he’ll even be less tense at the end of all this.
After they finish eating the soup, Lan Xichen drives him home. Jiang Cheng tries to apologize again, but Lan Xichen just smiles and shakes his head. They agree to meet again tomorrow, which is way earlier than Jiang Cheng would like, but maybe it’s best if he can’t spend a week freaking out over what happened today.
He says goodbye to Lan Xichen. (“Oh, good luck with Cloud. I hope she won’t be mad much longer!” - “Thank you! I might have to bribe her with her favourite treats…”) He enters his empty apartment. He sits down on his couch. He stares at the door to Wei Wuxian’s room. He hasn’t entered the room in months, it must be quite dusty by now.
Jiang Cheng closes his eyes and lets himself fall sideways until his head hits the couch. He’s so fucking tired.
He wakes up when his phone vibrates.
Lan Xichen Just sending you confirmation that your next session will be tomorrow, 4:30 p.m. You don’t need to bring anything, but wear comfortable clothes. I recommend drinking something hot and going to bed early tonight! :) Also, Cloud forgave me. Here’s a picture, since you couldn’t see her today!
Cloud looks at the camera, somehow managing to look grumpy, but still very cute. Lan Xichen’s hand is in the frame, his elegant fingers resting on the carpet in front of the bunny. Jiang Cheng can’t help but smile.
He makes himself a hot tea, grabs his laptop, snuggles under his blankets and spends the evening looking at bunnies on the internet.
26 notes · View notes
dynamox6 · 3 years
Text
Choose Your Own Adventure
Daydreaming of simpler times...
Wow. What a lunch hour. I shocked myself.
The day started out like any other, get up, eat breakfast, head to the gym, then go home, read, and get ready for work. After I was done my workout though, I realized I hadn’t seen one of my old friends who works downtown and I used to spend lunchtime with when I worked in the twin towers on ******. I finished right before the lunch hour. So I texted him:
“Just finished at the *.
Lunch today bro?”
I know from experience he isn’t one to text back immediately. I was feeling adventurous and craving a Booster Juice. So I decide to head over anyway. After I text him I saunter over to ***** to check my scratch tickets and I run into my first classmate. She talks about her summer, what skills she’s learned and how her work is going. She’s already secured an articling position. As she goes further and further into her description I feel myself swell with more and more pride for her.
I wish her well then continue to *****. I stand at the crosswalk waiting for the walk sign and I see another classmate. She is in a rush, so she just says Hi and I tell her to enjoy her lunch.
I check my tickets and I won a free $5 ticket. I collect, and put it in my pocket and head on over through ******** Park on my way to Booster Juice.
On my way through the park I see an elementary school friend who used to invite me over to her Birthday parties when I was just a little guy. We talk, I’m in law and she is in nursing. The warm hug feels nice and we’re pretty glad we’re making something of our careers. She asks me to shoot her a line sometime. I agree.
Next, I walk further through ******** Park, at the far end I run into a whole group of my law school classmates and we catch up on what’s being going on over the summer and the indulgences we took part in with the holidays that we have had. I look around and am glad to be amongst a group of driven successful people. I realize that even just by being friends with them their successful personality characteristics will probably rub off on me.
Next, I finally make it to Booster Juice. One of the old front desk workers at the * is already in line in front of me. I touch on the outside arm and say Hello. She’s into accounting and payroll. She’s proud I’m in law school. She loves Booster Juice just like me, she talks about the flavors and I let my sense of humor slip in a little bit.
So I get my Booster Juice and I make my way back down ******, and as I cross the street from the **** I see another Law School classmate at the other side. He’s already working in the department I want to article in, so I’m careful to curry the favour of his co-workers, and gently question him about his summer job and them about their work. I’m self-conscious about intruding and talking too much so I’m careful to hang back gently once and a while.
They go to ****** ****** and grab a drink to cool down for the hot day and I sit down with them and visit for a while. I’m quite glad to see my friend from law school and gather more information on the department on interested in articling at. I take his name down and ask him if he’s on the directory, he is. I am glad.
Next I finally make it to the other side of ***** Street and I realize it’s ******** ****** today. One of my old high school friends put up a Facebook status asking for visitors. I used to be so shy around this group cause I had the biggest crush on one of their group in high school passing notes back and forth in Math class.
I know the Stylelife, Love Systems, and Real Social Dynamics coaches would literally chastise me for giving into my fear or shyness so I push myself to go talk to her anyways. I say hello to her and by this time I’ve already done a ton of talking so I’m in a social flow state and carrying the weight of the conversation is quite easy. She invites me out to see her stand later that evening, but I have to decline because those are my exact working hours today.
So I nearly make it back to my parking spot just outside the * and I see one of the workers there on his coffee break. He’s a professional Magic the Gathering player so I’ve talked to him plenty of times before and we visit and talk about the new movies out, and Robin Williams.
By this time my friend texts me back:
“Hey dude, sorry my lunch was at 11-12 today!”
I text him back:
“Okay no worries bro, ran into some law school classmates anyways. :)”
I’m not upset at all, firstly cause I’m not that kind of person, but honestly I’m more shocked that by choosing to go on an adventure to pick up a Booster Juice (I got Funky Monkey flavor) I met seven different groups of people.
I have to work in a short while so this is rushed, but man, it’s amazing what can happen from one little choice to be more adventurous rather than go home and do the usual thing.
Totally reminded of those old Goosebumps books where you choose your own adventure. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lXkWa2cj2To&list=UU25-_5i19rPlLosl_h7G9Ow) I’m glad I decided to go grab a Booster Juice and hope to meet friends rather than head home, read, and have a nap before work.  :)
I literally shocked myself by how many people I was lucky to meet.
Just wow, that’s all I can say.
1 note · View note
forgiven-whimsy · 4 years
Text
Under Thanalan’s Sun
My first late entry for the 30 day WOL challenge, I probably won’t be doing one a day, but will hit the list at my own pace. This is the Laugh prompt. This is also my first piece of fic in over 10 months. Forgive the rust. 
Read on A03: Here 
*
“This isn’t going to work.” Thancred turned at the now familiar voice, newly minted Scion of the Seventh Dawn, Shiloh, emerged from their room wearing the same weathered linens he was wearing. The linens were the cheap and simple clothing of Thanalan’s poor. And to Thancreds eye she looked the part of destitute peddler in need of succor, or the perfect patsy for the false priests praying on the good folk of Camp Drybone.
“What makes you say that?” Thancred gave her a once over, once again seeing nothing wrong with his chosen disguise. 
 “We stick out, even with these clothes, if our kidnappers have been targeting Drybone, then they’ll have marked us,” She pointed at her horns, and flicked her forked tail for emphasis. “While I truly appreciate the non-reaction you and the other scions gave me as an Au Ra in Eorzea, you lot are the exception, not the rule. They’ll have noticed an Auri adventurer, and suddenly there’s a destitute Auri beggar? It stinks of a trap.” 
 She made a good point.
 “And you! Handsome white haired adventurer with a neck tattoo, you’re not trying very hard.” She cocked her hips at him, and Thancred touched his tattoo, he was supposed to be mentoring her, and if he was being honest, hoping to show off a bit. He tried not to let his pride swell when she called him handsome, that wasn’t the point of her comment. Shiloh had an eye for details, and these were details he should have caught. 
 “Ah, yes, you’re right, of course.” He cleared his throat. He spied the linen sac their disguise had come in, “head coverings are fairly common in Thanalan, so, if we,” he tore the bag in two, before wrapping one half over Shiloh’s head, arranging the material over her horns, made it look like a poor man’s turban. “There, that’s better, we can use the dust to dirty you up a bit, and at a distance, the natural assumption would be that you are Miqo’te or Hyur. Keep your back to the rocks and shrubs, our query won’t get a close enough look until it’s too late.” 
 This wasn’t the first rookie mistake he’d made on this mission, her first. His eyes more often following her instead of staying alert to his surroundings, his mind drifting to thoughts of her instead of the task at hand. She was driving him to distraction. Thancred had an appreciation for her sharp instincts, that she was clever, kind, and lovely besides wasn’t helping. He had a weakness for beautiful women, it wasn’t exactly a secret, and under normal circumstances, he would lay on the charm until they had a tumble in his bed, and he got her out of his system. Problem was that she was a peer and colleague, and the other scions were trusting him to keep her safe and show her the ropes, not to mention he would need to work with her again, and a physical entanglement would make things awkward, never mind the thrashing Yda would give him for bedding her friend. Wasn’t it just like him to always want what he couldn’t have. 
 To add insult to injury, all Thancred had managed to do was embarrass himself. Some rogue, at this point she’d managed to save his backside not once, but twice. The first time it was a well timed barrier that deflected an Amalj'aa arrow, the second they’d wandered too close to a rutting aldgoat bull and Shiloh had managed to keep the beast at bay with some well timed and well aimed magic stones. He needed to get a hold of himself. Yda’s words rang in his ears, be good, and keep your hands to yourself.  He hadn’t needed to see her eyes to feel the fire behind her mask when she’d pulled him aside. He’d shrugged her off, told her he was a professional above all, and that she didn’t need to worry about her friend. And yet, he caught himself staring again, she was adjusting the half sac on her head and appeared pleased with his solution, he let some of the tension he was holding in his shoulders out. He could do this, easy. 
 “Now to do something about you,” Shiloh pulled the other half of the sac off the ground where it had fallen, and tore it into strips. She took a step towards him, close enough he could smell her, the dirty rags she was wearing doing a poor job of masking her natural scent of soft florals. He inhaled sharply when she lifted her hands towards him, she stopped short of touching, giving him a crooked grin, pale golden eyes dancing  under her long lashes, as if she was privy to a private joke, and he wasn’t. She cleared her throat, but Thancred was glued in place, “you’re choker, could you take it off? I’ll wrap your neck up with these, make it look like a wound, and hide that tattoo.” She nodded towards him, and after another short second Thancred got his arms moving, removing his trademark white choker. 
 Thancred wasn’t sure what it was about Shiloh that turned him back into an untried boy, what it was about her that made him so bloody nervous, she was hardly the first sweet natured woman to have crossed his path. He’d watched her in Ul'dah, defending an innocent woman, and while impressed he’d managed to maintain his regular decorum around her when he invited her to the Waking Sands. While making introductions at the Sands, he’d even been able to flirt a little. He’d been excited to work with her, eager to see what it was Yda and Paplymo had seen in her, and he had. He’d seen a woman who took her time, used her head, considered her options. He’d seen a woman with a soft spot for children, and infinite compassion and empathy for others; she was too trusting, but Thancred imagined that would correct itself with more experience in the field. But as their week in Drybone dragged on, he met a woman with a sardonic edge to her wit, hospital humour, she’d called it. She was quick to remind him she was a healer first, and she was, whenever they met the Amalj'aa in skirmishes, she wove her healing magic seamlessly, he could feel the constant glow of her magic while he fought, could see the elusive shimmer of her shields deflecting arrows, all while manipulating earth, and air, and water to devastating effect. More than that, Thancred met a woman with a natural infectious joy, whose smile couldn’t help but be answered in kind. There was a warmth he couldn’t describe, he only knew he felt lighter, happier, when he was with her.
 He jumped when he felt her cold fingers at his throat, “sorry, bad circulation.” She gave him a sheepish shrug, “actually could you sit down, might be less awkward?” She cleared her throat, and took a step back, her cheeks going pink.
 “Right.” she finished dressing his fake wound with practiced ease, when she was done his Archon tattoo was effectively hidden. Shiloh touched his hair, biting her lip, “I suppose if we dirty you up enough we could make it look something other than white.” 
 Thancred wiped his sweating palms on his borrowed linen trousers, she was standing between his knees. Slowly he lifted his hands to her hips, she startled at his touch, “shall we go get dirty then, my dear?” He gently pushed her away so that he could stand, only now they stood chest to chest, his hands still on her hips.  The fetching blush on her cheeks had deepend, touching her neck, and disappearing under her borrowed tunic. Shiloh stepped away, quickly, her voice an octave higher when she agreed. That he was affecting her in such a way didn’t help his imagination. He shook his head and gave her what he hoped was a charming smile, and headed towards the door, she followed after him. Keep your hands to yourself , Thancred never was very good at following directions, he flexed his fingers. 
 Shiloh felt like a teenager with a crush, and this was hardly the time for it. Thancred wasn’t the first handsome and charming man she’d ever met, nor would he be the last. Yda’s warning rang in her head every time he gave her that crooked smile of his, he’s a cad and a womanizer, he’ll flirt the pants right off of you if you give him the chance, be smart. The problem was the longer she spent with him, the less she wanted to be smart. 
 Despite the heat, and the blushing, and the flirting their plan worked, and they managed to uncover the plot behind the disappearances, the same idiot who had tried to lie to her in Uldah was, behind it, selling the poor of Camp Drybone to the Amalj'aa, disgusting and shameful. She watched Thancred  head back to town, his arm slung around their new catspaw, he would coordinate their next move with the Immortal Flames, as he had the connections. 
 Shiloh pulled the half sack off her head and shook the sand and dirt from her blonde hair, she could feel the sand between her scales, could hear the faint crackle of it in her inner ear whenever she turned her head, the grit had even worked its way into her mouth, the rest sticking to her skin. Shiloh hated the desert. The sun was high in the sky, waves of heat distorting the scenery, and she understood why it was that Ul'dahn society made a habit of mid afternoon naps. Better to sleep through the worst of the heat then toil in it. Shiloh had a mind to do just that, but rather than drudge back to camp Drybone, she eyed the watering hole but a few fulms away. The animals in the surrounding area were either huddled in sparse shade or nestled in their burroughs, and the people from the town would be taking their afternoon nap, she pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. Shiloh pulled off the rest of her disguise, and climbed into the water in her small clothes, a light camisole and her underwear. The water was shallow and warm, like a tepid bath, but it rinsed the sand from her skin and scales. She climbed onto a large flat rock, content to let the light breeze dry her, the sun and cicadas lulled her to sleep. 
 Shiloh dozed, hovering at the edge of sleep and let her mind wander back to Thancred and the feel of his hands on her hips, the mischief in his eyes. She knew he was flirting with her, she liked the attention, he had a way of making her feel seen, heard, important. Despite Yda’s warning, she found that she sensed no malice coming from Thancred. Every time he called her darling or dear she felt her face heat up, but the smile he gave her when he noticed he affected her was addicting. They were dancing around each, circling closer with every pass, testing to see how far they could push each other, what kinds of small touches were permissible, innuendo a constant game. It was reckless, but it was fun, and it had been long years since she’d allowed herself to have fun, not since before the Calamity. She wondered idly what it would be like to kiss or be kissed by a self avowed scoundrel. She’d known her share growing up in Limsa Lominsa, and she’d very smartly rebuffed their advances, despite her curiosity, because it was safe thing to do, because she knew better. Be smart, Shiloh was finding that smart was boring, and that perhaps she’d been boring for long enough. 
 Her musings were interrupted when she heard  steps through the dry grass. She mumbled an aero spell under her breath; the steps sounded more man than beast. When the walking stopped she rolled onto her haunches in one fluid movement and cast her spell...at nothing. 
 “Wha..” 
 “You had me worried, you know.” Thancreds voice was behind her, how, she twisted to see him standing on the bank of the water hand on hips, and she felt his eyes sweep over her, open appreciation on his face. Shit. 
 A stammered explanation, an attempt to cover herself with her hands, and her embarrassment at being caught in such a state all resulted in a rather inelegant scream which saw her lose her footing and tumble into the water. She watched his face change in slow motion, from smug grin to surprise, and then her head was beneath the shallow water, and he was splashing in after her. He pulled her up to sitting and she choked and sputtered all over him while he rubbed her back and pulled a length of waterlogged grass from her hair. “Are you all right?” 
 “Fine.” She gasped between coughing fits. 
 Thancreds face was barely concealed mirth behind a thin mask of concern, Shiloh could see his lips and cheeks twitching from the strain. “Go on then, get it out of your system.” She splashed his already soaked tunic while he erupted in uproarious laughter. She blamed her body wide blush on the sun. 
 “Gods, I’m sorry.” Thancred managed between fits of laughing.
 “We both know you’re not.” Shiloh gave him a playful shove. 
 “You’re right,” He laughed leaning back into the water no longer caring that his own clothes were soaked.
 Shiloh took the opportunity to stand, doing anything to regain some semblance of dignity, in her hurry to grab her tunic from the shore she tripped on Thancreds outstretched legs and she fell, and screamed, again. He had the wherewithal to catch her, and they both tumbled back into the water. He pulled them both back up, she was flush with his chest while he propped himself up on an elbow. Shiloh buried her face in his shoulder succumbing to her own laughter, while he continued to shake with his own. 
 “Ladies and gentleman, may I introduce you to the Scion’s newest recruit. A hero for the ages, Shiloh Mitka,” Thancred said.
 Shiloh lifted her head, having lost her battle with dignity for the day, embracing the moment, “behold Hydalyn's chosen,” She gave Thancred a playful grin, before they both dissolved back into giggles.
 Eventually they both stopped laughing, Shiloh felt Thancreds hand replace the thin strap of her camisole back onto her shoulder. His hand trailed down her spine tracing the scales at the base, making her shiver against him. Shiloh exhaled in a huff, hyper aware of his heat, the breath against her skin and horn. His face was close, so close she could see the golden flecks in his hazel eyes; saw how they darted to her lips when she wet them.  Thancred brushed the water from her cheeks with his thumb. 
 A herd of Aldgoats brayed close enough to make them both jump and separate, “we should head back, you can fill me in on the particulars of the plan.” Shiloh stood again, this time Thancred offered his hand and they climbed out together. She dressed quickly, heart still beating out of her chest. Her lips tingled with lost opportunity. There was a time and place, and the day before a major operation was not it, when they were done with their work, maybe...Shiloh bit her lower lip.
 They headed back towards Camp Drybone, Thancred giving her the particulars of the plan, it would be an ambush, she with one group of Flames, he with the other. With any luck they would stop the summoning before it began. 
 Back in their room Shiloh hurried behind the screen and changed out of her still wet underthings, Thancred did the same on the other side. Fully dressed and dry Shiloh asked what questions she could think of for the following day. Her nerves were catching up with her, in her short time as an adventurer, she’d faced monsters and beastmen, and won, emphatically, but the stakes felt higher this time, she'd been raised on stories of Primals, she knew how devastating they could be. While she could use and was adept at her offensive spells, they weren't her specialty, the idea of fighting, alone no less, was a frightening prospect, the echo would protect her from the Primal's influence, but fire was still fire. Thancred must have sensed her nervousness, and stepped closer, putting his hands on her shoulders, “I’ll be right behind you, I won’t let anything bad happen to you, I promise.” 
 “Right,” Shiloh licked her lips, and shook her head, “right, we can do this.” 
 “You are a hero for the ages after all.” Thancred grinned at her, face soft and hazel eyes warm. 
 “You think so?” Shiloh stepped into his space , and he tensed, his eyes tracking her, lifting an eyebrow at her boldness.
 “You.” Thancred closed the gap between them, threading fingers into her hair, the other hand circling her waist, “are special.”He lowered his head to hers stopping short of her lips, playfully rubbing his nose with hers, “this is a terrible idea,” he husked, tilting Shiloh’s head up towards his.
 “The worst.” Shiloh got up on her tiptoes, winding her arms up from his chest to around his neck, and kissed him, gentle and curious, she sighed into him, and he took full advantage, expertly pulling her against him, and deepening the kiss, tasting her lips, her tongue, her breath, and she returned his ardor tracing his tattoo with curious fingers, something she’d wanted to do since meeting him, he moaned into their kiss so she did it again. They kissed each other breathless, and senseless. Breaking and panting for breath. Thancred pressed his forehead to hers. 
 “As much as I would love to ravish you here, now, I’m expected in Ul'dah.” Thancred pet the scales on her cheeks with his thumbs, taking a small step back. “And you need your rest. If it comes to it, and Ifrit is summoned, it will fall to you, and the echo, to overcome him.”
 Shiloh bit her kiss swollen lips, nodding. 
 “If you were amenable, after all is said and done...and if you haven't come to your senses, there’s a waterfall not far from here that I think you might enjoy.” He kissed her, capturing her breath, growling low in his throat, chasing away her uncertainty and doubt, “and it's far more private then the watering hole.”
“I’d like that.” she whispered a reply, dazed and giddy. 
 He nodded at her and gave her a dashing smile, “right then, I’ll see you in the morning at the appointed hour. Rest well.”
 Shiloh gave him a smile and a wave, and immediately fell onto her bed after the door closed. Gods she’d never been kissed like that, touched like that, she covered her face with a pillow. Her whole body tingled, and she kicked her legs a bit. She knew deep down that Thancred was right and what they were doing was a terrible idea. She just couldn't bring herself to care at the moment. 
4 notes · View notes
vcg73 · 4 years
Text
Witch!Kurt Chapter 41: Dearly Beloved
Just a happy wedding day!
~*~*~*~*~*~
After eating his fill of the mismatched buffet that his new sister-in-law had Conjured, sampling everything from chicken-and-waffles to bangers-and-mash, followed by a 90 minute sofa-nap in Adam’s arms, Kurt was more than ready to make his wedding day official.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have Finn, or Fam, or whatever they’re calling themself now, take over as Best Man?” Elliott asked. “It isn’t that I don’t want the job, but I already stood by you for the first ceremony and Adam is having his brother for both, so with you finally getting your own brother back, I kind of thought…”
Kurt stopped the selfless offer with a hug-tackle, surprising a laugh out of his best friend as Elliott caught him and stumbled back a pace. 
“I love you, you know that?” Kurt said as he held his friend.
As he pulled away he took a moment to straighten the sparkly blue bow-tie Elliott had fastened around his neck, seeing that his enthusiasm had knocked it askew. The tie had been spell-cast to stay in its current state, growing or shrinking at need when Elliott changed in and out of his cat form. A jaunty blue-banded top hat - likewise enchanted - was perched upon his head, and the hug seemed to have done it no harm, but Kurt couldn’t resist giving it a little adjustment anyway.
“Think about all the things we’ve shared over these last few months, El.  With magic, Adam, and just day to day life, it’s been a lot! Your patience and devotion never wavered through any of it. Nobody in my life has ever been there for me in quite the way you have, especially when there was nothing to be gained from it except my friendship.  As much as I love him, that’s something that I can’t say of anyone else, including Finn. So as thrilled as I am to be able to have my brother here today with the rest of my family, you’re still the one I want to finish this standing at my side. Okay?”
Elliott was blushing at the rush of compliments. “Well, in that case, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. And don’t discount your friendship as being worth all the rest, Kurt. Beyond just the witch/Familiar bond we share, you’ve always been there for me when I needed a boost, or a kick in the pants, or just someone to go out and have some fun with. Even when you were busy enough to make my head spin, you always had a minute for me when I needed one. So, seriously, ditto.”
The two friends embraced again, then went to join the family. The remainder of the coven and Sebastian had already departed to get things set up for the reception, leaving just the two grooms, their families, Elliott, and Mercedes, whom Kurt had invited to join them, fulfilling a promise made when they were both small-town high schoolers with no idea whether this day would ever  come.
Seeing that everyone was ready, Henry Crawford ordered everyone to join hands, then he promptly whisked the entire group across the city, reappearing a block from the Manhattan City Hall. There was no point in the grooms avoiding one another before the wedding, and since both young men felt that they’d already been wed during the morning’s ceremony at their apartment, this was more of a formality for Adam and Kurt.
For all the fevered anticipation that led to getting married, the legal portion was very low-key. Kurt and Adam’s party simply waited in line at the Marriage Bureau door behind several other couples and their families, then went inside when they reached the front. Kurt and Adam presented their marriage license and identifications which got them a waiting room number. Everyone sat down on a set of comfortable green couches.
“Not sure if you boys are getting married or waiting on a driving test,” Burt commented, looking a bit grumpy as Kurt and Adam’s number was called, they and their best men went to a little window to fill out some paperwork as participants and witnesses, and then came back to wait some more.
Adam laughed. “Well, it is a government building,” he said, “and bureaucracy is a largely universal experience. Plus we chose what is probably one of the most sought-after wedding dates of the year.”
Noting that he sounded slightly apologetic for his choice, Kurt squeezed his hand. “It’s romantic,” he said. “I love that we’re getting married on Valentine’s Day. It’s worth a few rounds of waiting in line to know that in a little while, you and I will be legally married.”
As he was wont to do, Adam beamed brightly at the reminder of their soon-to-be wedded state, and the reaction brought answering smiles to every other face.
 A few minutes went by and they watched as one, then two, then three other couples were called ahead of them to enter what appeared to be some sort of atrium. The last step before the weddings would commence.
“It’s almost time!” Donny Crawford said with a sunny grin that matched his brother’s. “Are you excited?”
“I am,” Adam agreed. “This probably won’t take more than a couple of minutes, but the butterflies are doing an anticipatory conga line inside my stomach.”
His father chuckled and wrapped one long arm around his younger son’s back, gently gripping Adam’s neck and giving it an affectionate little shake. “As someone who had almost given up on the possibility of this day, seeing my eldest son back among us, alive and well and standing up to marry the love of his life, I have to say that I’m experiencing a few butterflies myself. Though mine seem to have centered a little higher.”
He tapped his breastbone and Adam nodded. “Me too, Dad. Me too. And it means the world that all of you came out to share this day.”
“We wouldn’t have missed it, sweetheart,” his grandmother said, reaching across the narrow aisle to pat her grandson’s knee in affection. “Your father is right. It’s a true miracle that you’re here, nearly yourself again, and embarking on the finest adventure any two people can ever take together. Assuming they’re the right two people, of course, and I have no doubt that you two are right. I feel blessed to be gaining another grandson, and after what I witnessed this morning, I feel even more sure that you’ve found your true partner in life.”
Kurt blushed as everyone looked at him with proud and loving eyes, but he refused to allow himself to shrink back or deflect the compliment in his usual instinctive fashion. What these wonderful people felt for him was as real, as genuine, as the similar feelings he felt for all of them. “Thanks, June.”
“And we feel the same way about Adam,” Carole added, looking at her new step-son-in-law with affectionate eyes. “His bravery and resourcefulness and strength are a perfect match for Kurt’s. Without each other, I don’t believe either of you would be standing here today, and neither of these families would be whole, never mind as happy as we are now.” She smiled at her son, not even seeing the discrepancy in the blue eyes that looked back at her with such profound love and joy. They were all becoming more accustomed to the duality of Finn and Sam with every passing moment, and “Fam” seemed surprisingly at ease with their new state.
“I’m just happy to be here today,” Finn said simply, giving Kurt and Adam a bright grin. “I’m happy to be anywhere, actually. And in a little while, we’re all going to an awesome party, and then I get to go back and see Lima again, thanks to you. Life is good, brothers.”
“Hear, hear!” Celeste seconded, taking Finn, who was sitting next to her, by the hand and giving it a little squeeze.
Mercedes and Kurt exchanged a significant glance when the young man blushed at the contact and squeezed her hand back before letting go with visible reluctance. It seemed someone had developed a hard and fast crush on Adam’s lovely younger sister. The question was, were the feelings coming from Sam, or from Finn? Was Finn destined for yet another long-distance relationship, or was this just a reaction to having a pretty girl flirt with him, however unintentionally, after a long absence?  
Either way, this was not a situation that Kurt felt up to worrying about just yet, especially since Adam did not appear to have taken any notice of it. And either way, Kurt was glad to see that Mercedes didn’t seem to be upset at the sight of her ex-boyfriend – or his body at any rate – making eyes at another girl. Thankfully, it appeared that his best friend had moved on when she left the city of New York.
After a few more minutes, their number was called again and the wedding party moved into the atrium, standing there for a short while as the couple ahead of them were having their ceremony. Then they were ushered into a “chapel”, really just a largish room with benches on either side and a podium at the front. It was decorated in rainbow artwork that made the two grooms grin at each other. It was a perfect setting.
Everyone took their places. Kurt and Adam joined hands in front of the podium, behind which a middle aged woman in a black suit dress waited, and Elliott and Donny stood at their sides. Everyone else took seats on the padded benches.
 The officiant was plump and gray haired, with kind dark eyes and a grandmotherly air. In spite of the assembly-line of weddings she had doubtless been performing all day, she seemed to be enjoying the moment and smiled warmly at the young couple. She glanced down at the paperwork they had presented, verifying their names before beginning, “Ladies and Gentlemen, family and friends, welcome. We gather here today to witness the joining of Adam Crawford and Kurt Hummel in the union of marriage. This is a contract to be entered into thoughtfully and seriously, with a full realization of the obligations and responsibilities therein.”
 After the ornate rituals, and emotional grandeur of their Joining ceremony, followed by the drama of Kurt’s venture into the Void, both grooms were glad that they had opted for a simple wedding, yet as she spoke those words they nodded to one another, both very conscious of the magnitude of this moment, and how lucky they were to be having it after the long journey that had led them here.
“Do you, Adam, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”
 Adam squeezed the hands he held and said firmly, “I do.���
 “And do you, Kurt, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”
 Eyes shining, Kurt said, “I do.”
 “And will you now exchange rings as a symbol of your love and commitment to each other?”
 Adam accepted the band his brother handed to him. The actual wedding rings were as much a match as the Joining bands had been, a unique design that was Adam’s personal contribution to this grand day. His grandmother had taken his design to a jeweler she knew and trusted in London, and brought back the result; slim but well crafted white-gold bands with black tungsten borders, each etched with fine Celtic runes that were highlighted by a pair of tiny diamonds that had been transferred from the settings of his and Kurt’s mothers’ engagement rings. Burt and Bethany – who had inherited her mother’s wedding-set - had both been happy to donate the stones once they discovered what Adam intended.
The new rings were a lovely complement to the delicate silver rings they already wore and Adam smiled at this sight of as he slipped the new addition onto Kurt’s long slender ring finger, then repeated after the officiant. “As a sign of my love, to show the world that I have chosen you above all others; with this ring, I thee wed.”
 Kurt accepted the matching symbol from Elliott and placed it upon Adam’s hand, also smiling at the sight of the two rings nestled together on his finger. “As a sign of my love, to show the world that I have chosen you above all others; with this ring, I thee wed.”
The Officiant smirked and the two grooms and their Best Men chuckled when Burt and Henry both pulled out hankies and treated the room to a thunderous double honk of emotion.
“On that note,” the woman said with a grin. “By the power vested in me by the city, county, and state of New York, it is my pleasure to pronounce you husband and husband! You may kiss the groom.”
Family and friends applauded noisily as Kurt and Adam exchanged their very first kiss as a married couple.  
The Officiant shook hands with both young men, congratulating them, and then they were swept up in a flurry of hugs and kisses from their families.
 “Well,” Adam said, grinning as Kurt passed through the gauntlet of teary squeezes and was finally returned to his side where they kissed again with resounding enthusiasm, “That was easy! How do you feel, husband?”
 Kurt laughed. “Like it’s going to take me a little while to get used to hearing that word and knowing it’s real.” He held up his left hand, admiring the new addition. “This is beautiful, Adam. I know I said so when you first showed it to me, but it practically screams ‘envy me my gorgeous and intelligent husband’.”
 Adam kissed him on the side of his face, holding his own hand next to Kurt’s. “Well, if that’s so then this one definitely says, ‘luckiest man on earth’. Or maybe just the happiest one.”
 It didn’t make sense that Kurt should suddenly feel more important now than he had fifteen minutes ago, but he did. Signing the legal paperwork and going through the wedding ceremony had given him the sense of accomplishment and completion. After all of the false starts, endless doubts, and painful disillusion of his relationship with Blaine, this moment, and his complete certainty of its rightness, felt like the sweetest of victories.
 Recognizing that the officiant had other couples impatiently waiting for their own turn to see her, Kurt and Adam led their families out of the office and back to the street. The government building had too many security cameras, and the street outside was becoming too crowded to risk traveling by magic, so Elliott pulled out his phone and called up the biggest ride-share vehicle he could find. 
Everyone squeezed into the new ride, June generously offering to pay Elliott back for the service, and headed to the Vogue Ballroom.
~*~*~*~*~
As they walked toward the reception hall, Kurt put out a feeler, pleased to note the presence of a powerful ward that obliged by parting to admit their group as each individual or couple pressed their little silver key into the waiting heart-shaped box next to the door. The ward instantly slammed shut behind them once everyone was through, telling him that the complicated spell he had crafted was working perfectly.
 A quick blink of Sight showed that the room was also properly webbed by a series of interlinked spells grounded from centerpiece to centerpiece.
 For a moment, Kurt felt extremely proud of his work. Then he forgot all about it as he and Adam were swept into the room on a tidal wave of hugs, kisses, handshakes, back-slaps, and a cacophony of congratulations. 
Everyone they’d invited who had possibly been able to come on such relatively short notice was here. All of the coven, Maggie Banks, Janice Ugambe, Isabelle Wright, Chase Madison, Sue Sylvester, Mike Chang and his new girlfriend, Artie Abrams, Unique Adams, friends from the Spotlight diner, a few more from Adam’s home town, Apples both old and new, Troy, Dale, at least two dozen friends from NYADA, and even, somewhat to Kurt’s shock, Will and Emma Schuester.  
 Kurt had hesitated to invite the latter couple, considering how painfully short-sighted his former Glee teacher had been in dealing with those gifted in non standard (or Standard) ways, and the help that wild-witch Will had unwittingly (he hoped) given to Blaine. Yet he had not wanted to start this new chapter of his life holding a grudge, either, and it had felt rude to exclude the man after he had been invited to both of his former instructor’s wedding attempts with Emma. 
 She had ultimately been the deciding factor. Kurt had always liked quiet, quirky, sweet hearted Miss Pillsbury, who was not always successful in her attempts at helping students, but was one of the few authority figures at McKinley who genuinely gave a damn about them all. She had done her best to make sure that Kurt always knew he had someone in his corner, and he would always be grateful for the care she had shown him when his father was hospitalized with a heart-related coma. That alone was worth an invitation.
 Besides, it was clear from the Schuesters’ demeanor, hugging the breath out of him and then prattling on about how proud they were, how great he looked, and how nice it was to meet Adam, all with nary an awkward mention of Kurt’s last engagement; that they also wanted to move forward. Kurt was not quite sure if he should feel grateful or annoyed by this, but he ultimately just slipped an extra layer of warding around his inner walls to protect him from any Random influence that Mr Schue might potentially project his way – indicating for Adam to do the same – and decided to enjoy the attention without searching for a hidden agenda.
 Besides, Mr. Shue really was clueless enough to think they’d all had a happy-happy-joy-joy experience together, so he might as well let someone live happily in the past while Kurt moved forward into a much better and brighter future.  
For his part, Adam simply satisfied himself with an eyebrow twitch that was worth a thousand words to Kurt’s experienced eye, then graciously smiled and shook hands with the two teachers, thanking them for coming to celebrate the big day, then moving on by inquiring after the little sibling that the Schuesters’ son Danny was clearly expecting, from the prominent bulge at the front of Emma’s adorable peach-colored dress. The proud parents shared that they were expecting a daughter in just over three months, and Kurt had to physically stop himself from rolling his eyes when he heard that Will wanted to name the child Rachel. Emma clearly wasn’t entirely on board with that idea, from her uncomfortable facial expression, so Kurt knew that he was not alone in questioning the appropriateness of naming one’s child after a favorite ex-student.
They made their way through a few more well-wishers. Isabelle Wright nearly strangled Kurt with the enthusiasm of her hug, making him laugh even as he hugged her back. For such a tiny woman, she had a lot of power!  She hugged Adam too, beaming at them both as she wished them a long and happy life together.
The newlyweds took center stage on the large dance floor in the middle of the room when One Three Hill took to the stage, with Santana, Brittany, Mercedes, and Sebastian joining them as guest singers. 
Kurt and Adam first stepped into the arms of their proudly beaming fathers and did a simple box-step around the floor with them while their friends sang the Rod Stewart classic “Forever Young”. By the time they reached the lyric ‘When you finally fly away, I’ll be hoping that I served you well’, both of the older men were unable to stop tears from running down their proudly smiling faces, and by the time the song ended, each dancing couple had taken a stance that was little more than a tight, vaguely shuffling embrace. 
Then Henry and Burt handed their sons off to one another and the song changed. To the surprise of both grooms, Monica and Sebastian pulled out a pair of electric violins, nodded to one another, and began playing a gorgeous accompaniment to their friends’ serenade of the Etta James classic, “At Last”.
Dashing at his weeping eyes with one sleeve of his handsome so-deep-blue-it-was-nearly-black suit, Kurt smiled at his husband. “I don’t care if everyone on the planet told us this song was overused for weddings,” he said with a sniffle. “It’s perfect and I love it.”
“Agreed,” Adam said, sighing happily at the lovely music as he gracefully danced his beloved around the floor beneath the artificial starry night sky. “I didn’t know any of our friends played violin. Did you ask them to?”
“No, I didn’t know either,” he admitted. “Elliott told me he had a surprise for us and I’m guessing this is it. I knew Monica played a couple of other instruments besides piano, but I’ve never heard her. And Elliott and Sebastian must have gotten even closer than I realized for him to have convinced Sebastian to play for us. The guy I knew in high school used to insult singing groups who ‘needed’ instruments. Probably because New Directions usually had an accompanist. The idea that he played one, or maybe more than one, never occurred to me.”
 Adam chuckled. “Somehow that sounds about right. Either way, it’s lovely and I must remember to pass along my compliments to them both.”
As the music changed again and other couples began filing onto the dance floor, Kurt and Adam moved themselves to one side to continue under less of a spotlight, only to turn and suddenly find themselves face to face with Sue Sylvester.
Sue simply looked at them for a few seconds, seeming to note every bit of them from the bones outward, and both young men felt as if they were held in the grip of a force-field, unable to move. Whatever she saw seemed to satisfy the woman, for she stepped forward, breaking the spell by crushing Kurt in an unexpected embrace, then punching him in the shoulder hard enough to knock him a little off balance. She shook Adam’s hand and said, “Porcelain is a good kid, one of my finest. Appreciate how lucky you are to have him, don’t screw this up, and for god’s sake lay off the hair gel! Now, which way is the bar?”
Adam mutely pointed behind and to the left and Sue stalked off without another word. He self-consciously touched his hair, which had indeed been gelled lightly to give it a tidy appearance to go with his formal wedding suit. “Too much?”
Kissing him somewhat apologetically, Kurt smiled. “Just right. Don’t mind Sue. She’s just … like that.”
He laughed. “I noticed that when we met before, but I must admit that her manner takes some getting used to. I also hadn’t expected anyone to show up for a wedding reception in a bright orange track suit.”
Kurt laughed with him. “Yeah. She’s like that too. You learn to love her.”
“Well, as long as she continues to love you,” Adam said, dropping an affection kiss on Kurt’s nose as his arms came to circle his new husband’s slender waist, “She’s all right in my book.”
Kurt smiled. “She likes you too. You’d have noticed if she didn’t, trust me.” He broke off, making a pleased sound when Adam danced him closer to the buffet tables and he spotted a tall tiered tray of pastries, including a stack of white-frosted, heart-speckled miniature vanilla cupcakes that had been arranged artfully around the tall wedding cake that Johnny’s uncle had delivered as promised. Brittany had Conjured the little cupcakes just for Kurt, knowing how much he loved them, and Kurt showed his appreciation by snagging a few and taking turns eating them and feeding them to his beloved after they had paused to gain everyone’s attention and cut a small ritual slice out of the wedding cake, posing for a few photos taken by the photographer that Artie had found for them. 
“How are you feeling?” Kurt asked an hour later. It was the first time he’d had a chance to ask. After the cake photos, they had been pulled aside to pose under the graceful silver and blue archway for several more shots, both by themselves and with a variety of family and friends. They had done a bit more grazing through the buffet, and enjoyed a few more dances, well wishes, and toasts. While they hadn’t been able to arrange a formal dinner, given the short space of time this building was reserved, their guests had not seemed to mind. They had been approaching the live microphone between trips to the buffet and expressing good wishes when and as the spirit moved them. “Is the crowd bothering you at all?”
 Adam looked surprised. “You know, actually it isn’t,” he said, in a wondering tone. “For the first time since my rescue, I don’t think I’ve been afraid or uncomfortable even once today. Not when we were outside, or after we arrived here. I’m not sure if it’s because we’ve been completely surrounded by loved ones all day, or if your excellent warding has given me a sense of protection, or if this morning’s rituals have finally pulled me past the threshold of my fears, but I feel entirely relaxed.”
Kurt’s eyes were shining as he heard this news. “Oh, Adam, that’s wonderful. I knew you’d been doing better, because I haven’t felt any panic attacks from you in several days, but I was sure that between opening the Void this morning and being surrounded by so many people this afternoon, you’d be climbing the walls. I’m so proud of you!”
He grinned a little sheepishly. “So am I, actually.” He kissed Kurt lightly. “But since we both know that I wouldn’t be anywhere near this state if not for you and all of your excellent care over these past few months, let me just say thank you and that I love you with all of my heart.”
“I love you too, Adam,” Kurt said, heart in his eyes. “So much.”
A sparkle of mischief entered Adam’s eyes. “However, even if I am feeling in tip top shape, I wouldn’t object to a little fib if you want to claim that the crowd is overwhelming me and that we need some quiet time.”
Kurt laughed. “Why Mister Crawford, are you trying to get an early start on our honeymoon weekend?”
“That’s Crawford-Hummel to you, sir,” he teased back,“and I most certainly am! It’s half three already. Our hotel should be ready for check in by now.”
Grinning, Kurt said, “Let’s make one more round to thank everyone and say goodbye. I want to check on Finn and make sure he’s doing okay, since we won’t see him again before my family heads back to Ohio tomorrow. Then we’ll ask Santana to give us a quick trip home to grab our overnight bags.”
 “And then?” Adam asked archly, raising an eyebrow.
“And then,” he purred, “you and I will take a cab over to that gorgeous hotel suite your grandma reserved for our wedding gift, and I will have my wicked way with you, and you will have yours with me, for the next 48 hours.”
He punctuated his promises with kisses until Adam looked almost dizzy with joyful anticipation. “Why my darling husband, I do believe that you’re casting a spell over me.”
 Kurt grinned. “I certainly hope so.”
 The End
22 notes · View notes
imaginetonyandbucky · 7 years
Text
Magic Works In Mysterious Ways - Part 3 (of 3)
Barnes took his new responsibility very seriously, and listened carefully to Tony's instructions. Over the next couple of days, he learned more about the practical aspects of taking care of Winter, and didn't shy away from a single one.
Devotion was clearly not something Barnes lacked.
They worked out a routine quickly enough, one that allowed Tony more time to work and Winter some much needed variety in his everyday life. Tony was in charge of the mornings and breakfast, simply because it was easier that way, what with Winter sleeping in his bed. Winter then stayed with Tony in his workshop until Barnes came to fetch him. They were usually gone for a couple of hours — which included lunch — before returning in time for Winter's afternoon nap.
More often than not, Barnes lingered in the workshop while Winter slept. Tony wasn't sure why, but he never tried to kick him out. The workshop could get pretty lonely now that Bruce wasn't there to keep him company.
Barnes was surprisingly unobtrusive. He occasionally asked questions about Tony's projects, sure, and there were times when they got pulled into lengthy conversations, but Barnes instinctively seemed to know when to give Tony peace and quiet to work and when he didn't mind talking.
Once again, Barnes slipped into place with an ease that was pretty alarming.
Barnes ended up spending hours with Tony in his workshop, playing with the bots and Winter, or talking to Tony when he was available. Sometimes he seemed content to just sit in a corner and read, as if that was the most natural thing in the world. Bizarrely, that's what it felt like to Tony — it was easy to get used to Barnes' presence in the workshop, and he never felt a need to shoo him out.
Having Barnes nearby was, in short, disorientingly comfortable.
Tony told himself not to get used to it.
(Mobile readers, watch out for the break!)
---
Barnes' first attempt at giving Winter a bath went about as well as Tony's. Even if Tony had explained how to do it — and was with them the entire time — Winter had clearly decided to be difficult. Perhaps he wanted to test Barnes' patience, or maybe he just enjoyed splashing unsuspecting people with water.
Tony had a feeling it might be a bit of both.
It didn't take long at all before Tony and Barnes were drenched, and Winter kept slithering out of reach when Barnes tried to shampoo his hair. In all honesty, it was quite hilarious that a two-year-old could best two grown men, and Tony had a hard time holding back his snickers.
"Okay, that's enough," Barnes said decisively after his third attempt at washing Winter's hair.
Barnes got to his feet, and Tony did his best not to notice how Barnes' white, wet, and near-transparent undershirt clung to his chest in all the right places. Tony watched, baffled, as Barnes stepped into the tub and sat down, clothes and all. Then, with a firm but gentle hand, Barnes reeled Winter in and placed him in his lap.
The kid looked so shocked at the turn of events — his master plan foiled — that Tony couldn't help laughing. Barnes gave him a triumphant grin in response and started shampooing Winter's hair, all while looking extraordinarily proud of himself.
Barnes was almost heartbreakingly careful whenever he touched Winter — as if afraid he would break — and always seemed to favor his right hand over his left, even for the most simple of tasks. Tony wasn't sure if Barnes was afraid that Winter would dislike the metal hand or if he was simply not comfortable using it, but he had decided not to question him.
Once it became clear that Winter had no intention of struggling free — he looked quite content in Barnes' lap, as a matter of fact — Tony allowed himself to relax. He leaned against the side of the tub, elbow supported against the edge and chin in his hand, and watched as Barnes continued to give Winter his bath.
Barnes was completely focused on his task, his expression breathtakingly serene. Something warm and tickling was growing in Tony's chest, but he quickly pushed it down. He shouldn't go there. Only misery lay down that road.
But he couldn't seem to stop staring.
Barnes was beautiful.
Whenever he managed to let go of the past he looked like a completely different person, his eyes clear and mesmerizingly bright, with a smile that sent Tony's heart skittering.
The smile he was wearing now was no exception.
Several wet locks of hair had loosened from Barnes' ponytail and were now artfully clinging to his skin. There was one in particular, following the curve of Barnes' jaw, that made Tony's fingers itch with the need to reach out and gently brush it aside.
He never would, though, because he wasn't foolish enough to think the touch would be welcome.
Tony laughed when Winter leaned back and rubbed his lathered hair against Barnes' chest, making a mess of his shirt. Despite the stern look on Barnes' face, Tony could tell he was inches away from laughing himself.
There was something incredibly humbling in being allowed to see Barnes' eyes sparkle with mirth — his carefree joy precious beyond words — and Tony studiously ignored that warm, fluttering feeling in his chest. He wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to fight it, but he would do his best.
He was not going to ruin Barnes' happiness and make him uncomfortable enough retreat back into his shell — not over something as silly as a crush.
---
Once Winter had gotten used to Barnes, he seemed to have an easier time with the other Avengers as well. He still liked Tony best — with Barnes as a clear second — but he occasionally allowed Natasha to read to him in the afternoons, and was overjoyed every time Steve sat down to draw with him.
Raising Winter became more and more of a team effort, and Tony wasn't entirely sure what to do with that. He still had the main responsibility — and Winter still slept in Tony's bed, his nightmares remaining too severe for him to sleep in his own room — but the entire team seemed to be fighting over babysitting duty.
As much as Tony appreciated the interest everyone took in Winter's well-being, there were some questions that had yet to be answered.
No one talked about Winter's future. No one mentioned if he would be staying with them from now on and, if so, with whom. Perhaps they were all waiting for Barnes to make an official notice about Winter now being a permanent fixture in their lives, but that never happened.
Tony was beginning to worry about the practical details. They should get Winter a birth certificate, no matter how many lies they might have to put on it. They should take Winter to a proper pediatrician, since the medics stationed at headquarters weren't exactly experts on treating children. They should start making plans for preschools and play dates with other kids.
They couldn't just keep skirting around the subject of Winter and his continued stay with the Avengers, but no one seemed prepared to be the one to break the stalemate — not even Tony. He was more afraid than ever that he might lose the kid, now that Barnes and Winter had gotten to know each other.
Barnes still had the power to take Winter away from him, and Tony knew he wouldn't handle that gracefully.
Sooner or later, Tony's concern for Winter's future would outweigh his own fears and he'd bring it up — he knew that — but he had yet to reach that point. So instead he chose to remain silent, like the big coward that he was.
---
The morning Tony woke and realized he'd slept the whole night through, his heart jumped in fear. Winter's nightmares usually pulled him from his sleep, and if they hadn't, Winter was either no longer in his bed or Tony had left him to fight the night terrors alone.
Neither of them were particularly favorable options.
Winter was still there, though, sleeping peacefully on his stomach next to Tony, right where he belonged. What didn't belong was the metal hand resting lightly against Winter's back, and the super soldier it was attached to.
Barnes was fast asleep on Winter's other side, his expression soft and unguarded. The morning sunlight was streaming in through the window, turning Barnes' hair into dark gold and glinting off the metal plates of his arm.
He was breathtakingly beautiful.
Tony closed his eyes and tried to gather his composure. He must have fallen asleep while Barnes was reading Winter his bedtime story. Ever since Barnes had learned the routine, he and Tony had agreed to tuck Winter in every other night, but, more often than not, they did it together.
Last night had been no different, and Tony cursed himself for letting his guard down. He'd always made sure to fall asleep after Winter had nodded off and Barnes had left his bedroom, to avoid something like this happening. Tony wasn't angry that Barnes had decided to stay — Barnes had, in all likelihood, been the one to soothe Winter's nightmares away — and that was the problem. Tony wanted Barnes to stay and he didn't trust himself not to ask if he got to experience what that was like, even just once.
How was Tony supposed to keep his feelings in check when he knew what Barnes looked like sleeping next to Winter? In Tony's own bed, no less. And that in doing so, Barnes had given Tony the first good night's sleep he'd had in weeks?
It was honestly more than Tony's heart could bear.
So he kept his eyes closed, trying to ignore the searing want in his gut.
Only when Winter began to stir did Tony dare to open his eyes. He tried to pretend that his heart didn't skip a beat when his gaze met Barnes' — he had apparently woken up as well — but Tony wasn't fooling anyone, least of all himself. Barnes looked sleepy yet content, his smile soft enough to make Tony's chest clench from longing.
Barnes yawned and stroked Winter's back, probably without thinking. "Mornin'," he mumbled, his voice rough in all the right ways.
Somehow, Tony managed to smile back. "Good morning," he replied, desperately willing his heart to stop racing, but to no avail.
Barnes needed to stop looking so goddamned happy, or else Tony was going to start making assumptions.
He was well and truly fucked.
---
In many ways, Tony was surprised by his obvious infatuation with Barnes, but, at the same time, it made complete sense. They had been spending a lot of time together lately thanks to Winter, and Tony had finally gotten to know Barnes as someone other than Steve's best friend.
Barnes was — if Tony dared to make assumptions — his friend too now.
The attention Tony received from Barnes was quite flattering. He asked Tony about his projects, his likes and dislikes, and listened to Tony's replies while nodding in all the right places. He seemed genuinely interested, and obviously saw the workshop as a safe place where he could find shelter.
How was Tony supposed to resist that?
It wasn't like he hadn't already forgiven Barnes for what had happened to his parents — that really was the only complaint Tony might have had at that point. Barnes was kind, loyal, and surprisingly funny when he relaxed enough to let his snarkiness shine through. He also adored Winter, and always seemed to find ways to lighten Tony's load, either by taking care of Winter for an extra hour to let Tony finish a project, or by being there for Winter during the nights so that Tony could sleep without being disturbed.
Barnes was so considerate is hurt, and Tony had, despite his best efforts, fallen in love with him. Unfortunately, Tony knew that could never end well, so he made sure to shove the emotions to the very back of his mind and refused to acknowledge the excited flutters in his stomach.
Barnes deserved better.
---
"Steve told me I should get Winter's papers in order."
Tony froze, screwdriver in hand and heart in his throat. He looked up from the wire he was inspecting inside Barnes' arm.
"What?" Tony could barely keep his voice stable.
They were in the workshop for the monthly maintenance on Bucky's arm. For once, Winter wasn't there with them, since it was good for him to spend time with others every now and then, no matter how nervous it made Tony to not have Winter within his sight. Wilson was the lucky winner that day.
"Well..." Barnes looked troubled, scratching his chin with his free hand. "I mean, he needs an identity and all that. Official guardians and a social security number."
Dread was growing at the back of Tony's throat and he tried desperately to swallow it down.
This was it. He was going to lose Winter.
Tony wasn't ready; he doubted he ever would be. His fingers clenched around the screwdriver, his chest too tight to breathe properly — or perhaps that was the impending panic attack.
"Yeah," he agreed hoarsely, "he does."
Tony knew it was only a matter of time before the room started spinning. He carefully closed the panel on Barnes' arm and placed the screwdriver on the workbench, hoping Barnes wouldn't see how much his hands were shaking.
"I figured we'd call him my great-great nephew or somethin'," Barnes continued, his metal fingers whirring as he flexed them, testing their functionality. "Because the truth's obviously not gonna work, but he'll grow up to look like me so we're gonna have to say we're related somehow."
A nod was all Tony could manage, his throat having closed up. Barnes looked at him, and Tony prayed his poker face was still good enough to hide just how badly he was panicking.
"Steve said your lawyers might be able to help with the details?"
Tony forced himself to reply. "Of course." No matter how much it hurt, Tony would do everything he could to give Winter a good future. "Just let me know when and I'll set up a meeting."
"When's good for you?"
In all honesty, Tony had hoped he wouldn't have to be there in person. He wasn't sure if he could bear watching Winter get signed off to someone else. He averted his gaze and rose to face his workbench instead — Barnes would no doubt be able to see the misery in his eyes otherwise.
"I don't think I have to be there for that," Tony replied, trying to sound nonchalant.
There was a brief silence, as if Barnes was surprised by Tony's reply.
"I'm pretty sure you do," he said. "You have to sign the papers, right?"
It took a second before Tony realized the implications of those words, and he couldn't help turning to stare at Barnes once he did. Barnes looked confused, a small wrinkle having appeared between his eyebrows. When their eyes met, the confusion changed into shocked understanding.
"You thought I wasn't going to make you one of his guardians?" Barnes sounded devastated. He got up from his chair, all urgent and earnest, and Tony had to fight his instinct to take a step back. "Tony, he's more yours than mine. I wouldn't even know how to do this without you."
Somehow, Tony was able to swallow down the lump in his throat, relief washing over him. He'd get to keep Winter. Barnes wasn't going to take him away. Tony closed his eyes, shoulders slumping as he tried to slow his racing heart.
There was a gentle touch against Tony's wrist, and he looked down to find Barnes' right hand curling around it. Barnes' gaze was so soft and sincere that it took Tony's breath away.
"I thought you knew," Barnes whispered.
Slowly, Tony shook his head. "I just... I couldn't see why you'd let me have that."
"Tony, I would give you the world."
Tony couldn't help that his heart skipped a beat. There was probably a perfectly reasonable explanation for why Barnes would say that, but Tony had a hard time thinking of one when Barnes carefully laced their fingers together, tugging Tony closer.
Barnes looked at him, his blue, blue gaze warm and imploring. "I told myself to wait until after we'd gotten everything settled, but now I don't think I should. You seem to have gotten this all wrong."
It was difficult to breathe again, but for a completely different reason than last time. If they moved just a little bit closer Tony would be able to count Barnes' eyelashes.
"Barnes—"
"I'm pretty sure you can call me Bucky by now."
Tony swallowed, his gut twisting from nerves. "Bucky," he amended, "I'm not sure if I'm following."
Surprisingly, Bucky smiled, soft and tender. His thumb was rubbing distracting circles against the back of Tony's hand. "I must have been too subtle. I'm saying that I want both of our names on Winter's forms. And I..." He paused and swallowed quickly — as if to gather his courage. "And if you're ever able to forgive me for what I did to your parents—"
"I forgave you months ago." Tony knew he probably shouldn't interrupt, but he couldn't let Bucky believe he was still holding him responsible. Bucky's eyes widened, as if the possibility of Tony forgiving him hadn't even occurred to him. Tony squeezed Bucky's hand. "It wasn't your fault. They made you do it."
Bucky seemed to need a moment to process those words.
Eventually, he managed a faint smile. "I'm not sure if I deserve that, but thank you."
"You do." Tony was sure of that much. "You deserve a new start, and you deserve to be happy."
Bucky's smile grew stronger, and he tugged on Tony's hand again, pulling him so close that Tony had to tip his head back to meet his gaze. "Speaking of that," he murmured. "You didn't let me finish the sentence."
Tony had to be stupid not to see where this was going. He still wasn't entirely sure why this was happening — Bucky could do so much better than Tony — but he wasn't foolish enough to deny himself something he had been wanting for weeks.
"Go on," he said, congratulating himself on how his voice didn't crack.
Bucky didn't waste any time.
"Will you let me take you out on a date?"
Just the way Bucky phrased the question was enough to send a delighted shiver down Tony's spine. He'd been on many dates in his life, but no one had ever asked him like that.
"Yes," Tony replied, perhaps a little quicker than what was entirely dignified. Bucky didn't seem to judge him. "You may take me out on a date."
Bucky grinned, his left hand settling carefully on Tony's hip. "How about this Friday?"
Tony felt a little breathless, but managed a smile of his own. "Sounds good to me." He might have to clear his schedule, but he'd do it without remorse if it meant he'd get to spend time alone with Bucky.
"Steve can babysit?" Bucky asked.
"Steve can babysit," Tony agreed.
A second passed, both of them probably looking like idiots, staring fondly at each other, but Tony didn't care. He reached up with his free hand and gently ran his thumb along Bucky's jaw.
"I look forward to it," he said.
Bucky smiled. "So do I."
---
"Wake uuup."
Tony groaned and burrowed deeper into his pillow. Small, insistent hands were pushing against his shoulder, making him rock gently where he lay.
"Uuuuup!" Winter whined. He obviously gave up on pushing Tony out of bed and started tugging on his pillow instead, the little brat. "Tonyyyy."
"Snowflaaake," Tony whined back. As expected, that earned him a giggle, be it a brief one.
"Up!" Winter commanded. "Breakfast!"
Now that Winter mentioned it, Tony could smell coffee, which was enough to make him open one eye and peer up at the four-year-old who had invaded his bed. The two of them were the only ones in it, meaning that Bucky must have gotten up already, as was his habit.
Pale spring sunlight was shining in through the bedroom window, and Tony could see the tops of snow-covered mountains and pointy trees spread out for miles and miles. Bucky's choice of family holiday destinations was always a lot more rural than Tony would have gone for.
"Waffles?" he asked. Bucky made the best waffles.
"Waffles," Winter replied, nodding seriously.
Tony sighed before pushing back the comforter. "Fine, but only because I get waffles."
He'd barely had time to climb out of bed before Winter raised his arms, asking to be lifted. Tony obliged, even if Winter was getting a little too big to carry around everywhere — or maybe Tony's back just wasn't what it used to be.
"Up we go." Tony settled Winter on his hip, and Winter held on by grabbing Tony's t-shirt.
"So what will we be doing today, snowflake?" Tony asked as he headed for the kitchen. The chalet they had rented was a palace according to Bucky's standards, but Tony found it rather small, to be honest.
"Snowman!" Winter exclaimed.
"Yes, because the three you made yesterday clearly aren't enough," Tony replied gravely.
He stepped into the kitchen and couldn't help the silly smile that spread on his lips at the sight of Bucky making breakfast. His hair was gathered in a sloppy bun, his feet bare despite the chilly floors, and Tony was sure he'd never seen anyone quite as beautiful.
Bucky looked up from the waffle iron and smiled back."Mornin'."
"Good morning," Tony replied, stepping in to give Bucky a kiss. Winter made a disgusted face, but Tony paid him no mind. "A little bird told me you're making waffles."
Bucky grinned. "What better way to drag you out of bed?"
Tony rolled his eyes while walking over to the kitchen table, setting Winter down on one of the chairs.
"Less snarking, more waffles."
"As Mr. Stark commands," Bucky replied, mock-serious. The deadpan glare Tony sent his way was rewarded with another wide grin.
Bucky carried a plate of waffles to the table, barely having time to set it down before Winter speared one with his fork.
"He eats as much as you do," Tony remarked, relaxing instinctively when he felt Bucky's arms slide around his waist. Bucky was a solid wall of warmth against his back.
"Runs in the family," Bucky replied, but he sounded distracted — probably because he was busy placing gentle kisses against Tony's neck. That never failed to make Tony's knees weak.
Bucky pulled Tony closer, his lips brushing against Tony's ear. "I love you," he whispered softly.
As always when Bucky said those words, Tony felt his heart flutter. Most days, Tony couldn't believe how fortunate he was, but he had decided to stop second-guessing his luck and simply embrace what Bucky was offering.
He reached up, fingers stroking Bucky's hair. "I love you too," he replied, smiling when Bucky's lips brushed against the corner of his mouth.
Bucky squeezed a little tighter and placed a kiss on Tony's cheek.
Winter ignored them both, clearly more interested in his waffles.
_____________
A/N: This is, without a doubt, the closest I’ll ever come to having Winter in a story that’s not Autonomy. I couldn’t NOT write it.
- Amethystina
341 notes · View notes
daughter-of-war · 7 years
Text
Fruk Day Two: Make a Wish! AU
----Can you get a cute boy with twenty dollars?----
For @frukheaven‘s #FrukSpringFestival2k17
Pairing: FrUk (Aph France/Aph England)
Pairing Type: M/M
Words: 2,278
Rating: Teen (Contains implied sexual content for a line!)
At festivals like these, it's never any sort of surprise to see "magic men" along the rows of vendors, with their navy blue tents and handwritten signs. Most people passed these sorts of things by, because all of them carried the very high risk of being complete rip offs. Future predictions and wish granting and speaking to spirits were almost always lies soaked in glitter and fancy words. So naturally, Francis got dragged inside. Gilbert had grabbed his hand to pull him into the tent, protesting that they'd been there all day and he had wanted to check it out. The sword fighting competition had just ended and everyone at the Renaissance Festival was beginning to gather in the middle for drinks as the sun began to set. Women and men dressed in mideval clothing and armor passed them by as they entered the navy tent toward the end of the row, near the end of the lot's boundary.
Inside, everything seemed bigger, likely a trick of the eye. Strategic lighting and fabric folds, maybe. The inside was more purple and black than the navy outside, but even so, it didn't seem scary. Trying too hard, on the other hand, yes. Certainly trying too hard. All sorts of knick-knacks covered the walls, jars of glowing nothingness were strung from the poles making the ceiling, while the fabric folds swayed, making a sort of glitter fall.
"Shit, this place is nice," Gilbert commented, trying to see if he could get a good picture without using the flash. He got about five decent ones. They were mostly of the phosperecent jars dangling on clear string. They looked to be free-floating, and if Francis and Gil didn't know better, they'd be convinced.
"Ah!" A voice cried out from the back of the tent, and despite the tone if absolute delight, both Francis and Gilbert nearly wet themselves. Sudden noises in relative quiet are never wanted. "Sorry, I just settled down for a nap!" The blond man laughed.
"That's alright, man, we were just checking out the place," Gilbert said, nodding his head and looking around in gesture. "Nice setup you've got here."
"Thank you, thank you! All made by hand!" The man, who seemed to be "Kirkland," if the sign on the outside was anything to go by. Kirkland continued on. "It took a while, but I guess it worked, after all I did get two customers today!" Kirkland seemed to get almost high off of the praise, his chin tilting more upward and his posture straightening, with a happy smile adorning his face. Both Francis and Gilbert, however, felt a but bad for Kirkland. Two customers in a whole day was pretty bad.
"Well, since it wasn't too clear on your sign," Francis said with a small chuckle, "would you mind telling us exactly what you do in here?"
"Yeah, that was a bit of a marketing strategy! Don't tell 'em what's inside so they come in to ask for themselves!" Kirkland was pretty animated for someone who had just layed down for a nap. "Anyway, I do things like wishes, tarot cards, fortunes, spirits- both talking to and expelling- and I sell things like potions, dusts of creatures- harm free, of course!- herbs, household creatures, and little charmed items!" He looked down at his hands and laughed. "I keep my practices to a limit of ten for easy remembering!"
Okay, that was cute. Francis mentally slapped himself for calling a man cute. But damn, was he something. A strange little something.
"Ooh, what are these wishes you speak of?" Gilbert wad thoroughly enjoying this little "shop" of Kirkland's.
"They're small things, usually lucky spells or things like finding something you've been searching for- that can be either an item or a person or other things, too. So," he said, "sound interesting?"
Francis shrugged, his lips pulled up to one side. "Why not? What's the harm in a little wish?" Gilbert was excited by this, bouncing on his feet.
"How much?" Gil asked, pulling out his wallet, which was made of old leather and falling apart at the seams. His little brother had made it in Boy Scouts when he was five as a birthday present, and he hasn't let go of it in about 20 years. He was the sentimental type, even if he denied it.
"Well, little wishes are ten, and large ones are twenty, with little wishes involving things like work or school being cancelled for the day, or passing an exam or interview. Big ones are things like swaying emotions, or finding something expensive on the road and making a good profit off of it. It's not that intense of a magic, so it's good if you're inexperienced in dealing with witchcraft!"
"Want to go first, Francy?" Gil asked, smiling. "I've got thirty bucks I'm not gonna spend on drinks, so if you want a twenty dollar thing...?" Francis knew he was talking about the 'swaying emotions' wish Kirkland said. He was having a bit of trouble with love at the moment, and hadn't been in a serious relationship for a couple years. People ended up more attracted to his body instead of his heart. That didn't mean he wasn't happy that people found him hot, but he just thought it wasn't enough.
"Alright. I'll go," Francis said, looking slightly down at Kirkland. He noticed he wasn't wearing shoes, and had baby duck-yellow socks on, but decided not to question it.
"Alright!" Kirkland clapped his hands together. "Now, why don't you wait here," he nodded to Gilbert, "while I take you," he smiled at Francis, "behind this here curtain. I've got the table set up there." So Francis followed him back, and sat down at the little cardtable covered in a black and white striped tablecloth.
"Sooo..." Kirkland looked at Francis, his head tilted upward. Obviously he had a bit more leg than Francis, as when he sat down he was a good inch and a half shorter. "You seem to want a twenty dollar wish? Or do you...?" Kirkland seemed a little more awkward when they were alone. Likely the one on one conversation with someone as attractive as Francis made him nervous. He extended his hand for Francis to shake in greeting, like this was some sort of business transaction.
"Well, nice to meet you," Francis said, shaking Kirkland's hand. "You mentioned something about making someone fall in love with you?"
"Yes! But, well, it's a but more complicated than that." He began to explain the intricacies of magic as Francis paid close attention. It boiled down to this: while it is possible to make someone fall in love with you, things like love potions are usually just amplifiers of lust, whereas manipulations of emotions take time and require previously existing attraction to grow. Francis was drawn in by this, as he's never thought someone could make up things like this so intricately. As Kirkland continued on, Francis began to believe that part of what he was hearing was true. Maybe being so exposed to someone talking about something in such detail makes you miss the overall fact that it's false.
"So," Kirkland smiled, jostling Francis out of his thoughts. "What do you think? Want to try it?"
"Why not?" Francis was smiling as well, wondering how this little experience would end.
"Alright, please give me your hand." Francis obeyed. Kirkland began to trace the outline of his palm, gently and carefully. He could feel a rush in his stomach from the feather-light touches. Kirkland didn't really have soft hands like a girl, they were a bit rough. I wonder what physical labor he does to get such rough hands, Francis thought. Maybe setting up this tent is more work than it looks.
It was over before Francis knew it. Suddenly the rough, gentle fingers left his palm, and Kirkland looked up.
"This person has touched you before," Kirkland said. "They've held your hand, however briefly. I don't know who they are, but I've intensified your connection. The effects should start appearing for them in about a day."
"Well, thank you, Mr. Kirkland," Francis said, holding his hand out to shake again. "Gilbert has my money, so he'll pay you after he's done, is that okay?"
"Yep! Why don't you send him in as you leave?"
"Will do! And thank you again, I'm counting on this!" He shook his hand and laughed, smiling at Kirkland as he went through the curtain. "Your turn!" He said to Gilbert.
"I didn't hear much, but damn, what happened in there?" He smirked at Francis, and it didn't really take a genius to get what he was implying. Francis flicked him in the back of his head as he walked past.
As they walked out, after paying, of course, Francis keeping his hands in his pockets, as it was getting chilly.
"What'd you wish for?" Francis asked as they sat down for drinks.
"Something fairly simple," he responded, pausing to take a sip of his beer. "I asked him to see if he could, uh, make Lud's deal go through with that new apartment he's buying with Feli. There was a bunch of offers, and this is really close to his job and not too expensive, so he's really hoping it'll go well. I figured asking a magicman wouldn't hurt." He shrugged, looking pretty content with himself.
"Quite noble of you, Gil. I just asked for someone to have a crush on me for once!" He laughed, thinking about how much they differed in their priorities.
"Hey, sure, I don't get this whole romance thing-"
"That's such an understatement," Francis laughed. Gilbert was quite an outspoken aromantic, having called love a government conspiracy many times. He was often only half joking.
"Anyway," he started again. "I hope this world out for you, magic or not. You deserve to be happy, man."
Francis smiled and took a sip of his beer.
¤
The next day, Francis and Gilbert showed up to the festival at about ten am. They'd bought a weekend pass like they did every year. The Sunday morning air was damp, but the sun was shining strongly. Gilbert smelled like coconut sunblock, which did kind of ruin his mideval knight aesthetic. He ignored this fact.
They wandered around for a while, enjoying the jousting competition and the mock sword fights. The day went by quickly, Gilbert reveling in the attention he got when people asked to take pictures with him. His armor was all hand-made, simply because he worked from home and way too much time on his hands.
As they were walking, they ended back up in the row where Kirkland's setup was. Gilbert suggested they stop by.
"How come?" Francis asked, squinting, as the sun reflected strongly off of Gil's armor.
"Lud's deal went through and I wanted to thank him."
"Oh it- wait what?" Francis blinked twice. "It did?"
"Couldn't believe it either, man. Honestly, you know how I got a call earlier? Yeah, it was Ludwig telling me they got it," Gilbert seemed quite proud if himself. "Knew it would be a good idea!"
"Wonder if mine worked, then," Francis said under his breath.
"I'm sure it did, Francy!" Gil smiled. "I wonder who it is, and he did say it'd take effect in a day, and that should be about now, shouldn't it?" Francis checked his watch, and sure enough, it was seven pm. Twenty-four hours after.
"We're stopping in then?" He said, even though both him and Gil were already heading toward the navy blue tent.
"Bonjour!" Francis called out, stopping in front of Kirkland's tent. "Anybody home?" He laughed.
"Oh!" Called out a voice from inside right before a blond head popped out from the behind the tent. "You two!" Kirkland was smiling, and his face was smeared with lines of a coal-like substance. "Sorry! I was just working with a pesky little mallowman! It's a nasty little sprite subspecies that likes to ash up your face!" He laughed, wiping it away with a wet, baby blue sock. "Sorry I look like such a mess," he blushed faintly, with a nervous smile.
"You look fine!" Francis chuckled.
"So, what'd you two come back for?" He sounded confused that someone would visit for a second time.
"I wanted to thank you," Gilbert said, extending his hand to shake. "That thing I asked for? It actually worked. No offence, man, but I didn't think it would!" Kirkland smiled at that and shook Gil's hand.
"Honestly, most don't work that fast! But I'm glad it worked out, since you never really have a 100 percent garentee that those sort of things'll happen," Kirkland paused, and looked at Francis. "As for you, I know yours worked out. On who, I can't say. But I'm sure of it."
Francis noticed the nervousness in his voice and knew he wasn't lying. For anything he lacked in, perceptiveness was not one of them.
"Well," he started. "How's buisiness today?"
"Ah, same as yesterday, just you two and an angry sprite," sighed, humor in his voice. "So pretty good!"
"Well, if you don't think you'll get any more today, what about joining us for drinks?" Francis smiled at Kirkland. The latter look quite surprised.
"Drinks?"
"Why not? Unless you don't want to, of course!"
"Oh, well, why not?" He smiled. "Sure!" He paused for a second. "And it's Arthur."
"That's Gil, and I'm Francis. It's nice to meet you, Arthur."
¤
When he woke up the next morning with a mildly hungover and snoring magicman in his bed, he couldn't help but smile.
45 notes · View notes