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kat-katsuki · 3 years

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Sunflower and White Rose | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader Part 4

Fantasy AU

Warning: Swearing (cuz Bakugou)

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

tags: @ waffleareniceandfluffy @ the2ndl @ jazzylove @ bubblesmalfoy Thank you all for the support!

WC: 2.5k

"Let's go get our fucking blessings."

He picked two white roses from the sea of roses, and handed one to you. "For the future queen."

Time was running out, for the fire dance was about to begin. "But I don't have a fire dress." Your eyes sadden at the white rose in your hand.

Bakugou's eyes widened at you. He knew about your parents, how they got into an accident while hunting, fell out of the sky, and passed away. Traditional fire dresses are always made by the mother for their daughters. The idea was that the mother would pass down her wisdom, luck, and prosperity through the dress as a form of blessing, in hopes that the daughter would be able to find someone who will bond souls with her for eternity. "I have a solution. Come with me. We gotta hurry or we won't make it for the dance."

Oh no. Not again. Earlier you had to run with the best female hunter, but this was the best warrior. No way are you able to keep up.

Bakugou chuckled when he saw the horrified expression on your face. He picked you up in his arms, one hand supporting the center of your back and the other behind your knees. "Hang on to my neck," he whispered. Your face flushed with extreme heat as you shyly placed your arms around his neck as he instructed. Your fingers brushed against the beads of victory. Just what did you do to deserve this man? Perhaps you saved the world in your past life?

The dragon prince sprinted through the sea of roses. White petals flew into the air as he passed by. You carefully protected the two roses he picked, not wanting them to get destroyed by his superhuman speed.

He was faster than Ashido. Much faster, even with you in his arms. A cloud of dust trailed behind him as he dashed through the village, causing all the people he passed by to cough violently. "What was that?" someone asked as the dust cloud dissipated.

Midoriya was standing near the bon fire with Sero, Kaminari, Kirishima, and Ashido, waiting for the fire dance to begin. His friends told him about Bakugou, and their secret plan with you. "I see... That's great! (Y/N)-chan really likes Kacchan! I'm so happy for them!" Midoriya smiled. "I'm really, really glad."

"Are you not mad? Didn't you want her to be your partner?" Kirishima asked.

"Well, it's true that I like her, and that's all the more reason why I want her to be with the one she truly loves!" Midoriya said. "Plus, I'm going to be leaving soon to start my training as a knight. After I'm gone, she won't have any other friends in this village. That's why at the very least, I wanted her to find a partner that would treasure her for who she is. I'm so glad that person is Kacchan! I know he'll be great to her!"

"Izuku...." Ashido muttered, feeling emotional over the things he said. "Are you really leaving?" The green haired boy nodded.

"Dragon riders of the north, Holy Knights of the south. Although I've lived here most of my life, it's always been my dream to become one of the Holy Knights who serve the royal palace of the Musutafu Kingdom of the south."

"Right, Musutafu, that's where you're from, right?" Sero recalled. "Man now I kinda wanna go there just to see what it's like."

"We should totally go! After the festival is over, let's all go to Musutafu on an adventure!" Ashido exclaimed.

Suddenly, the bon fire shot up into the sky, and the sound of drums interrupted the conversation between the new adults. This was signal that the fire dance was about to begin.

"It's starting! Come on guys! Let's go!" Kaminari exclaimed as he started to drag his friends towards the bon fire, where all the young and new adults were gathering for the dance.

"Gosh, where is Katsuki and (Y/N)?! It's almost starting!" Kirishima tapped his feet worriedly.

The drum beats started getting faster. The elders walked over with bowls of face paint in their hands. Kirishima and Ashido stood still as one of the elders came up to them. She dipped her thumb in the white paint and glided her finger across their faces. Face paint is a symbol of adulthood. Before the fire dance, elders will paint the youngsters' faces as a coming of age ceremony. Once the face paint was done, they are officially independent members of society.

"You think they can make it?" Ashido asked Kirishima with her brows furrowed. She interlocked fingers with the red dragon, squeezing her lover's hand as they scanned the area.

"They'll make it." Kirishima squeezed back. It's their perfect prince they were talking about. There should be no reason for him to worry.

As the drums got louder and louder, faster and faster, the young ones all knelt around the bon fire as it rose higher and higher, as if reaching for the heavens. The shaman chanted in their old tongue, praying to the fire god to bless the young warriors of the tribe. Sweat dripped down the foreheads of the young dragons as they basked in the heat of the flames.

Sounds of beads clinking against each other echoed in the opening as the shaman waved his staff in the air.

Kirishima looked up when he heard sudden outbursts of gasps coming from all around them. The loud gasps interrupted the shaman's chants, and everyone lifted their heads to see what was going on.

Ashido's jaws dropped when she saw you. But that's-

"Is that-" Some girls in the tribe pointed at you in disbelief. "Why is she with-"

"Why is that failure walking with Prince Katsuki?!"

"Somebody tell me this isn't true..."

The older women clasped their hands to their mouths in disbelief when they saw the dress you were wearing.

You and Bakugou walked hand in hand, the bells on your golden ankle cuffs jingling every time you took a step. Bakugou couldn't take his eyes off of you as he led you towards the bon fire. A beautiful golden choker wrapped itself perfectly around your neck. The cloth piece on your breasts were in a sunflower pattern, and a thin golden cloth attached below it hugged your torso perfectly, accentuating your curves. The bottom of the golden cloth attached to another piece of the same sunflower patterned belt around your hips. Under the belt were long thin sashes that started out gold but slowly mix into red at the very end. You wore golden cuffs around your wrists, arms, thighs, and ankles, each with beads and bells dangling on them.

That dress...was the queen's gown.

Everyone in the village recognized that dress. It wasn't a traditional fire dress, but the gown passed down for generations, only worn by the queen on her wedding day.

When Bakugou brought you into his parents' yurt, Mitsuki and Masaru were shocked. "Old Hag, the golden gown!" Bakugou ordered.

"But I thought (Y/N)-chan and Izuku were..." Masaru pointed at you confusedly and then darted his finger outside the yurt.

"The gown! Now!" Bakugou shouted.

Mitsuki immediately understood his son's intentions. She grabbed the wooden case lying at the corner of the yurt and quickly opened it, revealing the beautiful treasure of the tribe. Before you could as anyone what was going on, Mitsuki shoved Masaru and Bakugou out of the yurt and stripped you down of your grey dress and helped you put on the golden gown only worn by queens.

"You are beautiful my dear," Mitsuki said to you once you were finished changing.

"Is it really okay for me to wear this?" you asked your queen.

"Katsuki has chosen you, so this dress will be yours eventually anyways. What difference does it make to wear it now?" Mitsuki smiled at you. She called her son and husband back. When Bakugou lifted the front curtain, he froze. Was that (Y/N)?! He didn't think it was possible for you to get any prettier than you already are, but there you were! Standing right before him, in that beautiful golden dress. His face instantly turned fifty shades of red as he tried to find the right words to utter. "Don't just stand there Katsuki. Tell her how stunning she looks!" Mitsuki rolled her eyes at her son.

"Uh- I- You-... Wow...." Bakugou tripped over his words. Seeing him all flustered made your face burn as well. Your ears felt so hot it was as if they were melting.

"Wow indeed. Now let me get the face paint," Mitsuki went outside the yurt. Masaru patted his son on the back, giving him a light push towards you. Bakugou stumbled right in front of you. His eyes traveled up and down your figure, taking in every detail and every curve. God you were sexy.

"C-Can we get married right now?" he asked.

"Eh?!" You exclaimed.

"I got the face paint!" Mitsuki said as she came back to the yurt. "Now kneel down you two." She mixed the paint with a stick as she and Masaru stood in front of you and Bakugou.

You fell to your knees obediently before your king and queen. Bakugou, on the other hand, crossed his arms rebelliously. "I'm not kneeling."

"Kneel the fuck down and receive your blessings!" Mitsuki growled as she kicked him behind the knees, knocking him down. Your eyes widened in shock as your prince fell down next to you.

Masaru and Mitsuki exchanged glances, grins spreading on both their faces as they dipped their thumbs into the paint. Masaru held Bakugou's chin up, and drew the first line down his chin. "The first line represents bravery. May you stand tall and fierce even against the most dangerous beasts," Masaru said.

"The second line represents freedom. May nothing stand in your way, nothing bind you down," Mitsuki said as she drew the second line on your face.

"The third line represents strength. May your powers bring you nothing but victory home, bringing honor to you and your loved ones."

You looked down. The paint felt extremely heavy on your face. You didn't know if you were worthy of such blessings. Noticing the look in your eyes, Bakugou took your hand in his. You glanced at him as he smiled back. His eyes told you to keep listening.

"The fourth line represents kindness. May your heart be pure, and your words be gentle." What? Your eyes widened as you looked up at Mitsuki, who smiled down at you while drawing the line on the right side of your cheek. Was kindness always a virtue of your people?

"The fifth line represents empathy. May you open your eyes to the suffering of others. Rule over them through understanding, not through fear."

These weren't virtues of dragons, but the virtues of kings and queens.

"The sixth line represents mercy. May evil, hate, and vengeance never find its way into your heart."

Your eyes began to water again, and Bakugou's grip on your hand tightened. These weren't just blessings of adulthood...

"The seventh line," Masaru began as he placed his thumb into the paint, then pressed it against the side of Bakugou's face, next to his ear. He then glided the finger across, over his nose bridge, all the way to the other side of his face. "Represents eternity. May your love last for all your lifetimes to come."

These were marriage blessings given only to the kings and queens from the previous kings and queens.

"Now go, the fire dance is about to start."

Here you stood, next to Bakugou, with your face painted. The six vertical lines represent virtues of the rulers. The horizontal line represents love and eternity. The shaman went back to finishing his chant as you and Bakugou knelt down by the fire beside Kirishima and Ashido. Kirishima smiled at Bakugou. You made it! His eyes seem to convey.

Fuck yeah, of course I'd make it, Bakugou smirked at his best friend.

Exclamations of disbelief wouldn't settle down, but that didn't stop the music from playing. All the couples took out the flowers they had exchanged the day before, and tossed them into the fire as offering to Hino and proof of their love. You and Bakugou kissed your roses, and gently tossed them into the fire. At that moment the fire burst into the air, and everyone gasped. Bakugou pulled you back so you wouldn't get scorched by the sudden eruption of flames.

"Everybody calm down! This is a sign that Hino has received your offerings!" The shaman shouted. He then looked towards Bakugou and you. "And he has given his blessings."

You and Bakugou smiled at each other. He pulled you in for a passionate kiss, and the two of you joined in on the fire dance.

Everyone knew the fire dance. It was the most sacred ritual of your culture. You and Bakugou tapped your feet as he held one hand around your waist. The new adults circled around the bon fire, dancing to the beats of the drums, following the rhythm of the music. Bakugou held his right hand up, and you pressed your right palm to his. The two of you circled around with your hands intertwined, then he pulled you back into his arms.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too Katsuki."

The dance ended with all the couples sharing a passionate kiss. Bakugou cupped your cheeks with both hands and pressed his lips against yours. You gently placed your arms around his bare torso, scooting your bodies closer until his stomach pressed yours.

His tongue gentle laced with yours, a fiery and tingly feeling traveling from the tip of your tongue all the way to the tips of your toes.

You could hear the horrified screams echoing throughout the village, but none of that mattered anymore.

As crazy as it is, the dragon prince has chosen the failure.

Legend says that when Hino fell in love with the mortal Nue, he broke the heart of countless beautiful goddesses in heaven. They could not believe Hino would choose a plain mortal like her, who'd eventually grow old and wrinkly, over eternal beauties like them.

It was said that the goddesses got so jealous of Nue that they each placed a curse on her. One goddess cursed Nue to be a coward. One goddess cursed Nue to be weak. One goddess cursed Nue to be forever alone, an outcast that will never fit in. Once the curses were placed, Nue was so sad that she turned very ill. Hino was so angered by the goddesses that he burned down all of their temples. He told Nue not to fear the curse, because he will be with her. No matter when, no matter where, he will find her in every lifetime, and he will love her, protect her, and keep her company so she will never be alone.

Fin~

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Also on AO3! A kudos or reblog would be greatly appreciated!

A/N: The pictures are all not mine! Credits to their original owners. I really liked that design as a tribal gown! I found it on google images! Finally done with this story! Phew! Literally ignored all homework to finish this... Please lemme know if you liked it! Thank you so much to those who replied and asked me to tag! Thank you to those who reblogged! Thank you to those who followed me! Thank you Thank you! I will be making another post here on tumblr only about how I got the inspiration for this story, so lemme know if you wanna be tagged for that post as well!

#bnha fanfic #bnha #bnha fantasy au #mha #mha fanfic #mha fantasy au #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou fantasy au #sunflower and white rose

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une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir · 3 years

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random thoughts on jon connington’s chapters

This is part 2, part 1 can be found here.

The Griffin Reborn

Aegon and Danerys

The first part of this chapter details Jon Connington taking over his former castle Griffin's Roost as well as remembering how he lost the Battle of Stony Sept.

Some Daniella stans have cried about how the show made her bad (ahah she's already bad), by giving her Jon Connington's supposed endgame. I believe they're partially right. Jon Connington's thoughts on Stoney Sept are foreshadowing of the burning of King's Landing, but of Danerys doing it.

The Griffin Reborn ~ ADWD

He had lost it all at Stoney Sept, in his arrogance. (...)

And so he swept down on Stoney Sept, closed off the town, and began a search. (...) The townsfolk were hiding him. They moved him from one secret bolt-hole to the next, always one step ahead of the king's men. The whole town was a nest of traitors. At the end they had the usurper hidden in a brothel. What sort of king was that, who would hide behind the skirts of women? Yet whilst the search dragged on, Eddard Stark and Hoster Tully came down upon the town with a rebel army. Bells and battle followed, and Robert emerged from his brothel with a blade in hand, and almost slew Jon on the steps of the old sept that gave the town its name.

For years afterward, Jon Connington told himself that he was not to blame, that he had done all that any man could do. His soldiers searched every hole and hovel, he offered pardons and rewards, he took hostages and hung them in crow cages and swore that they would have neither food nor drink until Robert was delivered to him. All to no avail.

Bobby B was very much loved by the people in general, in fact that's the whole thing with Stoney Sept. The townsfolk hid him because they loved him, despite the violence inflicted towards them. As Connington says, they endured everything for Bobby B's sake, they rebuffed bribes and they endured executions, even a hunger strike. Not one turned traitor, not one turned over Bobby B. Such we have a town hiding a "ruler" they love.

As a side-note, in the books the bells tolled to warn the citizens of the battle and to persuade them to stay inside their houses. It was a statement, marking a rebellion against the invading force and not a surrender signal. I believe it's in the show that is said, bells ring for dead kings, weddings (bride of fire, meaning biurning shit), and the beginning of war (this was waaay before they came up with the accident that is season 8).

Daenerys IV ~ ACOK

(second stanza) A tall lord with copper skin and silver-gold hair stood beneath the banner of a fiery stallion, a burning city behind him. (...) A cloth dragon swayed on poles amidst a cheering crowd. (...) A corpse stood at the prow of a ship, eyes bright in his dead face, grey lips smiling sadly.

Epilogue ~ AFFC

Aegon has been shaped for rule since before he could walk. (...) He has lived with fisherfolk, worked with his hands, swum in rivers and mended nets and learned to wash his own clothes at need. He can fish and cook and bind up a wound, he knows what it is like to be hungry, to be hunted, to be afraid. Tommen has been taught that kingship is his right. Aegon knows that kingship is his duty, that a king must put his people first, and live and rule for them."

Aegon (who's associated with boats, the Shy Maid) will be loved, he's the cloth dragon the people are cheering for (it doesn't mean he's fake, LMAO) and Danerys will burn King's Landing in retalliation. Like Cersei Lannister ended up "loved" in the penultime episode of the show, when she took the townsfolk inside the Red Keep. Forced, I know, but that's what they depicted and what Daniella thought just before she burned them all, the townsfolk preferred Cersei to Daniella. And we highly suspect show!Cersei took book!Aegon's role, such it will be him that will be sitting in King's Landing in the books.

The Griffin Reborn ~ ADWD

"Tywin Lannister himself could have done no more," he had insisted one night to Blackheart, during his first year of exile.

"There is where you're wrong," Myles Toyne had replied. "Lord Tywin would not have bothered with a search. He would have burned that town and every living creature in it. Men and boys, babes at the breast, noble knights and holy septons, pigs and whores, rats and rebels, he would have burned them all.

he would have burned them all.

This is Bran's prophetic visions in sequence, linking Drogon, flying over King's Landing, then an "equivalence" between Aerys saying "burn them all" and Danerys with Drogon.

It's also worth mentionioning for the milionth of time, that "Daenerys" is is an anagram for "Aerys End", you know the guy who wanted to burn King's Landing to the ground instead of letting beloved by the people Bobby B take the throne.

The Griffin Reborn ~ ADWD

He was not wrong, Jon Connington reflected, leaning on the battlements of his forebears. I wanted the glory of slaying Robert in single combat, and I did not want the name of butcher.

Daenerys IV ~ ADWD

Dany was appalled. He is a monster. A gallant monster, but a monster still. "Do you take me for the Butcher King?"

"Better the butcher than the meat. All kings are butchers. Are queens so different?" (...)

What have I done? she thought, huddled in her empty bed. I have waited so long for him to come back, and I send him away. "He would make a monster of me," she whispered, "a butcher queen." But then she thought of Drogon far away, and the dragons in the pit. There is blood on my hands too, and on my heart. We are not so different, Daario and I. We are both monsters.

Danerys accepting her dragon side, which haappens at the end of ADWD and this is why she manages to ride Drogon, is directly connected to being a monster, a butcher. This is word play that translated to the show as well.

GoT 7x02 - Stormborn

DAENERYS picks up a dragon figurine from the table.

DAENERYS: If Viserys had three dragons and an army at his back, he'd have invaded King's Landing already.~

TYRION: Conquering Westeros would be easy for you. But you're not here to be queen of the ashes.

DAENERYS: No.

DAENERYS puts down the dragon figurine.

TYRION: We can take the Seven Kingdoms without turning it into a slaughterhouse. If the great houses support your claim against Cersei, the game is won.

Danerys clothes when she burned King's Landing have red staining the skirt, like a butcher's apron stained with blood as he works.

The Griffin Reborn ~ ADWD

"Wait, I say. Gather our power, win some small lords to our cause, let Lysono Maar dispatch his spies to learn what we can learn of our foes."

Connington gave the plump captain-general a cool look. This man is no Blackheart, no Bittersteel, no Maelys. He would wait until all seven hells were frozen if he could rather than risk another bout of blisters. "We did not cross half the world to wait. Our best chance is to strike hard and fast, before King's Landing knows who we are.

In the show, Danerys is impatient to attack King's Landing, she doesn't want to wait, and has to be convinced REPEATEDLY to not "strike hard and fast". And in one of them, Daenerys and butchering linked together makes yet another appearance (the script above).

Aegon the Conqueror

Maegor the Cruel

Danerys the Butcher. Bitch deserves it.

Aegon and Jon Connington

In the second part of the chapter, Aegon arrives at the Griffin's Roost and Connington and Aegon discuss the attack on Storm's End.

Sansa VII ~ ASOS

The Broken Tower was easier still. They made a tall tower together, kneeling side by side to roll it smooth, and when they'd raised it Sansa stuck her fingers through the top, grabbed a handful of snow, and flung it full in his face. Petyr yelped, as the snow slid down under his collar. "That was unchivalrously done, my lady."

"As was bringing me here, when you swore to take me home."

She wondered where this courage had come from, to speak to him so frankly. From Winterfell, she thought. I am stronger within the walls of Winterfell.

The Griffin Reborn ~ ADWD

A solid man, and true, Connington thought as he watched Duck dismount, but not worthy of the Kingsguard. He had tried his best to dissuade the prince from giving Duckfield that cloak, pointing out that the honor might best be held in reserve for warriors of greater renown whose fealty would add luster to their cause, and the younger sons of great lords whose support they would need in the coming struggle, but the boy would not be moved. "Duck will die for me if need be," he had said, "and that's all I require in my Kingsguard. The Kingslayer was a warrior of great renown, and the son of a great lord as well."

At least I convinced him to leave the other six slots open, else Duck might have six ducklings trailing after him, each more blindingly adequate than the last. "Escort His Grace to my solar," he commanded. "At once."

Prince Aegon Targaryen was not near as biddable as the boy Young Griff had been, however. The better part of an hour had passed before he finally turned up in the solar, with Duck at his side. "Lord Connington," he said, "I like your castle."

"Your father's lands are beautiful," he said. His silvery hair was blowing in the wind, and his eyes were a deep purple, darker than this boy's. "As do I, Your Grace. Please, be seated. Ser Rolly, we'll have no further need of you for now."

"No, I want Duck to stay." The prince sat. "We've been talking with Strickland and Flowers. They told us about this attack on Storm's End that you're planning."

Jon Connington did not let his fury show. "And did Homeless Harry try to persuade you to delay it?"

"He did, actually," the prince said, "but I won't. Harry's an old maid, isn't he? You have the right of it, my lord. I want the attack to go ahead … with one change. I mean to lead it."

As I said in the part 1 of this series, there are many parallels between Aegon's story and Sansa's story. One is a future event, where Sansa and Aegonwill escape the toxic mentors that pose as their fake parent (even if Connington isn't 1/10 as bad as Littlefinger).

In Sansa's case, this most likely will happen when she flees north if "Sansa is Grey Girl" theory holds true (and it happened in the show, moreover this is a parallel she has with Arya and Bran as well, both will also have to flee their toxic mentors soon) and she'll grow more independent from Pedofinger as she regains her identity as Sansa Stark and with her cousin (and the North) by her side.

In Aegon's case, we can see that he's already more indepedent than he used to be (it all started when he stepped up at the Golden Company higher-ups and convinced them to fight for him and his cause). Connington suggests this is because the boy is now Aegon Targaryen and no longer Young Griff, in other words Aegon is growing more confident the more he regains his identity.I suspect that like Sansa, Aegon will grow even more confident with his cousin Arianne (and Dorne) by his side.

Sansa II ~ AGOT

When Sansa finally looked up, a man was standing over her, staring. He was short, with a pointed beard and a silver streak in his hair, almost as old as her father. "You must be one of her daughters," he said to her. He had grey-green eyes that did not smile when his mouth did. "You have the Tully look."

Sansa VII ~ AGOT

"I won't." He sounded almost like Marillion, the night he'd gotten so drunk at the wedding. Only this time Lothor Brune would not appear to save her; Ser Lothor was Petyr's man. "You shouldn't kiss me. I might have been your own daughter . . ."

"Might have been," he admitted, with a rueful smile. "But you're not, are you? You are Eddard Stark's daughter, and Cat's. But I think you might be even more beautiful than your mother was, when she was your age."

The Griffin Reborn ~ ADWD

But when Jon Connington stepped out onto the high battlements, the view was just as intoxicating as he remembered: the crag with its wind-carved rocks and jagged spires, the sea below growling and worrying at the foot of the castle like some restless beast, endless leagues of sky and cloud, the wood with its autumnal colors. "Your father's lands are beautiful," Prince Rhaegar had said, standing right where Jon was standing now. And the boy he'd been had replied, "One day they will all be mine." As if that could impress a prince who was heir to the entire realm, from the Arbor to the Wall. (...)

"Lord Connington," he said, "I like your castle."

Pedofinger and Ebonington. Leave the children alone! *screams*

#aegon VI targaryen

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myaekingheart · 4 years

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109. Kind and Faithful, Sweet and Grateful

read the scarecrow and the bell on ao3 index | from the beginning | < previous | next >

*NSFW* SMUT INCOMING KINKTOBER 2020, DAY 13: BREEDING Okay listen I wasn't originally going to write anything for Kinktober but I already had this chapter planned so this was really just a funny coincidence, and I figured I might as well.

Come to me my sweetest friend Can you feel my heart again I'll take you back where you belong And this will be our favorite song Come to me with secrets bare I'll love you more so don't be scared And when we're old and near the end We'll go home and start again Start again -Come to Me, Goo Goo Dolls

Rei counted the days on the calendar on the kitchen wall. One, two, three, four… She had put this off for so long, riddled by her own anxiety and embarrassment. She wanted to wait until she knew exactly the right thing to say, exactly the right way to tell him what she had been thinking so deeply, if not obsessively, about. She was terrified of how he would react, of him thinking she was stupid or weird. Fourteen. The final count was fourteen. Fourteen days since her last period. The dead center of her cycle. The prime moment for making a baby.

Kakashi would be home in an hour or so. Rei stepped away from the calendar, staring at it as if to make sure the date would not disappear when she turned away. She paced the kitchen and wrung her hands together as she tried to piece together the conversation they would have. How would she start? What was she supposed to say? Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe she never should’ve decided she wanted this. But god, did she want this. She never expected to want this so much. She pressed a hand to her nervous stomach, tried to will away her panic.

The key turned in the knob. Rei’s heart leapt into her throat. She whipped around toward the calendar. He was home early. She wasn’t ready for this. Toshio raced to the front door, barking and leaping in excitement. The door creaked open. Kakashi stepped inside. A smile, a soft laugh, as he urged Toshio backwards so he could close the door behind him. He scratched the dog behind his ear as he kicked off his shoes, then turned to Rei. “Hey there” he said and she felt her knees nearly buckle. A tingling surged through the pit of her stomach, hungry and horrified. She couldn’t do this.

“H-Hi…” she croaked, forcing a smile. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks and she prayed that for once her body would not betray her, would not give her away. “How was work?”

“Just another day” Kakashi shrugged. He manuevered around Toshio toward the couch, flopping down and stretching his arms out in front of him. “How was home?”

“Home was…fine” Rei replied. “Home was home.” She skirted around the kitchen table, sat on the arm rest but when that felt too casual, she settled next to Kakashi, first sitting normally but that was too stiff. She drew her legs under her to kneel but that felt too out of character. It was when she shifted yet again to sit cross-legged that Kakashi finally caught onto something.

Arching a brow, he leaned forward and asked, “Hey, are you alright?”

“Hmm? What? Oh, yeah! Yeah, I’m fine!” Rei exclaimed. She forced a smile and swatted at the air dismissively but Kakashi could see right through her façade. He eyed her suspiciously, a challenge, and Rei knew she couldn’t avoid the subject any longer. Her face fell with a sigh, running her fingers through her hair as she shifted yet again. “Kakashi, can we, uh…can we talk?”

Kakashi hated that question. Can we talk? Asking to talk never led to anything good. His mind raced to the week before, to her date with the movie star Keihaku. He doubted she was having second thoughts about the way things went. She had been so bothered by the things he had said, the way he had behaved. There was no way. And yet the fear of there being someone else at all horrified him. He didn’t want to consider the fact that that night may have given her a taste of what it was like to be with someone else. He could not lose her. He urged her to continue, unsure if he could handle the suspense.

“So, um, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about something…” she started. His heart was pounding. Please just get to the point. She couldn’t look him in the eyes. Something was wrong. What was going on? “I mean, this is going to sound really, really stupid so, um, brace yourself, I guess, but I just…I mean…” she stammered.

“Rei…” Kakashi said, voice perhaps a little too firm and pleading. She finally met his gaze and a shiver raced down her spine. “Rei, is something wrong?”

“N-no, not at all!” Rei panicked, holding her hands up in surrender. “It’s really nothing bad! Or I mean, it could be bad, I don’t know, it depends on how you slice it, I think, but I mean, typically it’s not really seen as a bad thing, necessarily, I don’t know—”

Kakashi was beginning to lose his mind. Cupping her cheek in his hand, he forced her to look at him. “Rei, just please tell me what’s going on” he begged. She could see the absolute panic in his eyes, the desperation. Her fumbling had pushed him too far and now he was worried. She never should’ve brought this up in the first place. She never should’ve said anything. She would have been better off just shoving her want deep down into the pit of her stomach, forgetting it ever existed. But now the damage was already done. It was too late to turn back. Kakashi was anxious and desperate for answers. She had no other choice.

“Kakashi, I want to have a baby.”

She said it and she could feel her entire body electrify in panic. He froze, blinking, trying to comprehend what she had just said to him. I want a baby. A baby. He could feel a million different emotions overwhelm his body, each one fighting for dominance. Finally, he managed to croak out a hoarse “R-really…?”

Embarassed and terrified, Rei buried her face in her hands and groaned. “God, I sound so stupid!” she complained. “I know I sound really weird but I just…I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I just keep imagining getting pregnant, and then giving birth, and having a cute little baby to snuggle and raise and I just…I don’t know, I get so restless thinking about it, and how badly I want it but…fuck, I sound so damn stupid.”

“I-I don’t think it’s stupid…” Kakashi replied quietly. Truly, he had never wanted anything more. All this time, in the back of his mind, he had always dreamed of starting a family with her. And now here she was, sitting before him, red-faced and shy and ready. And yet, despite his delight, there was still a nagging uncertainty in the back of his mind. “But…” he started, and he could sense Rei’s panic rising higher into her throat, “Do you think now is the right time?”

“I-I mean…” Rei stammered, “I know we’ve only been engaged for a month, and we still have to worry about the wedding, but…I don’t know, I feel like things have been calm lately. We’re doing alright financially, and we are engaged so, I mean…I-I don’t know, I think…I think we can pull this off. I think we’ll be fine. The timing might be okay.” She stifled a nervous laugh as she dropped her eyes, wrapping her arms around her abdomen as if in an attempt to protect herself from incoming rejection.

As much as Kakashi aimed to be cautious and smart about things, as much as he wanted to ensure they were level-headed about this, she made a convincing argument. Things had been calm lately. And really, if not now, then when? Things would surely pick up again in the future. Was there ever truly a right time to have a baby? If there was, now would be it. Paranoia and uncertainty were quickly erased by a wash of bursting excitement as Kakashi turned the thought over in his head, made his choice. He fought the smile tugging on his lips as he considered what she was asking of him. A baby. This was it. They were going to have a baby.

“Okay” he abruptly said, breaking the silence.

Rei froze. “W-what…?” she asked, staring at him wide-eyed. “What did you just say…?”

Kakashi brushed her bangs back, surveyed her face, caressed her cheek. “Alright” he said, with a definitive nod. “Let’s make a baby.”

Rei could hardly contain herself. Bursting with joy, she leapt into Kakashi’s arms and buried her face in his neck, laughing until she nearly cried. “I can’t believe it” she whispered. “We’re going to make a baby. Kakashi, we’re going to make a baby!”

Chuckling, Kakashi drew back so as to kiss her, resting a hand on her hip. He toyed with the waist of her pants, sliding his hand down to grope her ass. She planted excited kisses on his cheek, along his jaw, down his neck, running her fingers through his hair. He loved when she did that. A shiver ran down his spine and he immediately scooped her up by the ass, carrying her into the bedroom. “You know” he sighed, “You’re going to look so cute pregnant.”

“You think so?” Rei asked, smiling at him slyly. He dropped her onto the bed with a soft thud, speading her legs apart and lifting her shirt over her head.

“I know so” he said, tossing it to the floor. Kakashi situated himself between her, running his hands down her chest before idling on her stomach. “Because that will be my baby in there” he whispered. Rei quivered with anticipation, unable to fight the grin sneaking onto her lips. As Kakashi pulled her pants and underwear off in one swift motion, Rei reached up to help unbutton and remove his own.

She laid back against the bed as Kakashi eased his way into her, her mind racing with fantasies about what they were about to get themselves into. A baby. She and Kakashi were going to have a baby. Kakashi tangled his fingers in her hair as he thrust, at first slow and rhythmic but gradually picking up speed. His words echoed in her ears: That will be my baby in there. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and grinned. “Our baby” she whispered wistfully.

“Rei…” Kakashi breathed, pressing his forehead against hers so they could lock eyes. For a moment, he swore his chest was going to explode with how much he loved her. “God, we’re going to make such beautiful babies.”

A soft groan escaped Rei’s lips as Kakashi hit that spot she liked, her nails digging into his back. “Y-yeah…?” she gasped in response.

“Mmhmm” Kakashi moaned. “If they’re anything like their mother.” He hooked his arm beneath her knee, dug his nails into her thigh as he shifted their position. It was easier to satisfy her that way, anyway.

Squeezing her eyes shut tight, Rei gripped the sheets in retaliation. “A-and what if…they’re like…their father?” she asked between thrusts. Sweat beaded on her brow, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Shhh, let’s not think about that part” Kakashi jested. He leaned down to press his lips against hers, spreading her legs even further apart in the process. Situated like this, he loomed over her, powerful and safe.

Rei combed her fingers through his hair, gripping lightly as he thrust harder and faster. “I-I’m gonna get…h-huge, you know…” she whispered.

“I know” Kakashi said. His breath hitched in his throat, growing more labored as he neared his limit. “Just means th-there…will be more…to love” he added, smiling with a small, airy laugh.

“Y-you’re so…sappy” Rei replied. She could feel her body electrifying with each buck of his hips, the pit of her stomach clenching.

“It’s all th-those…Icha Icha books—mm” Kakashi groaned. He tightened his grip on her thighs, the pressure of his nails stinging against her skin. “Bringing out…the r-romantic in me…” he added, his voice barely a whisper. Rei barely had time to respond, her entire body shivering with satisfaction. She wrapped her arms tight around her fiancé as she cried out, her lungs aching for air, her legs sore from the pressure of their position. She tightened around him, muscles throbbing, and he knew he was done for. “Mm, Rei…” he groaned through gritted teeth, “I-I’m so…c-close…”

Breath heavy, Rei took Kakashi’s waist and pulled him hard and deep inside of her. “D-do it, Kakashi…” she gasped. Then, meeting his eyes, she demanded, “Go on, p-put a baby in me…”

That was the last straw. With a loud, vicious groan, he emptied himself inside of her. Her body shivered as his dick pulsed and an overwhelming, bubbly happiness rose up into her throat. She envisioned the scientific perspective of it all, of each ejaculation jetting inside of her, of sperm racing to egg and fighting for dominance. It was so stupid and bizarre and yet her excitement was insurmountable.

Kakashi collapsed on top of her, damp with sweat and gasping for breath. He could feel Rei’s rapid heartbeat as he cupped her breast in his hand, the heavy rise and fall of her chest as she, too, fought to catch her breath. He planted a few sleepy kisses on her breast as she lazily toyed with his hair, her eyes growing heavy.

“So…do you think we were successful?” Kakashi asked, breathless.

“I don’t know” Rei replied. She hoped she didn’t sound dejected, but she also did not want to get her hopes up if, in two weeks, she did bleed. “I think we will be so long as we time things right.”

“Mmm” Kakashi hummed, closing his eyes. “And what about now? How are the chances looking?”

Rei bit her lip, smiled softly. “I don’t know how likely it is to get pregnant on the first try, but…” she started, “I ovulate tomorrow so that’s the best time to try. We’ll just have to cross our fingers and…hope for the best.”

Kakashi nodded, forcing himself to shift so as to not put any more pressure on Rei’s chest. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms tight around her, whispering in her ear, “I can’t wait…to have a baby with you…Rei…”

Smiling, Rei settled against his chest and sighed. “Me, neither.”

#rei natsuki #kakashi hatake #the scarecrow and the bell #naruto #naruto oc #fanfiction #kinktober

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wild-aloof-rebel · 4 years

Text

waited so long to say this to you

Five times they say “I do” (and one they don’t).

- part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - +1

He’s coming.

Patrick shoots a thank you text back to Stevie and digs his heels harder into the floor, stomping down the nervous urge to pace. David is on his way. He’s left the motel and is making his way here, where they’ll get to spend a few minutes alone together before the ceremony. Before they get married.

Holy fuck, they’re actually getting married.

There have been days in the months since Patrick proposed that it felt like they’d never get here. There have been days that it felt like maybe they should just elope and be done with it. But they’d found their way through, and now David is on his way here for their wedding.

The bell on the door of Rose Apothecary rings, and voices spill in from the street outside, a cacophony of words and laughter that Patrick would recognize anywhere as the Roses, even without David’s voice yelling over them to just go to Town Hall already. At the sound of it, the nerves that have been buzzing in Patrick’s belly all day reach a feverish pitch. This is it, he tells himself. This is what you’ve been waiting for.

His fingers clutch at the door frame as the front door snaps closed, bringing eager silence with it, and he forces himself to count to five, taking a slow, deep breath, before he steps out of the back room to find David already smiling at him, broad and bright as the afternoon sun.

For a long moment, all either of them can do is look. Patrick has seen pictures of David in suits, dressed up for long ago parties and premieres, so he’d thought he knew what to expect from this. But the reality of it is so much more. The David in those photos had been devastatingly gorgeous but aloof and untouchable. The David standing here, bathed in light by the wide windows of the store they own together, is a little softer, a little warmer, a little more open to the world around him. This David is happy. Comfortable. Well-loved. And he is the most unbearably beautiful thing Patrick has ever seen in his life.

“Hi,” David says finally, soft like a secret.

“Hi.”

And then they’re moving toward each other across the distance, pulling each other in with hands on waists, arms across shoulders, lips against lips. Patrick is careful not to bunch his hands into the fabric of David’s jacket the way he wants to, but it’s a near thing. And when he finally pulls back, it feels like the first full breath he’s taken today.

“David, you look…”

“Me? Look at you.” He steps in a wide circle around Patrick, clearly admiring the view, and Patrick can’t help but laugh at the way his eyes sparkle like he’s already imagining stripping him out of it. Patrick imagines he must look much the same.

“How was your sleepover with Alexis and Stevie?” he asks to distract himself of any further thoughts about plucking apart all the buttons on David’s shirt, letting his fingers find David’s and twine them together instead lest they try to betray the temptation.

“I missed you,” David says plainly, brushing his thumb across the back of Patrick’s hand. “But you were right--it was…” He grimaces and swallows like the words are painful to get out. “...nice. To spend time with them.” He shakes his head. “What about you? Your cousins didn’t try to get you drunk, did they?”

“No, I kicked them all out by nine. Told them you would murder them if I showed up to our wedding looking hungover and sleep-deprived. Didn’t think an actual crime would be the best way to start a marriage.”

In truth, Patrick had kicked them all out because he hadn’t wanted to draw the night out any longer than necessary. He’d felt like a kid on Christmas Eve, knowing that the sooner he went to sleep, the sooner he could wake up and open presents. And so he’d sent them all back to the motel to drink without him, pulled on one of David’s sweaters out of the laundry, and climbed into bed far too early. Of course, that meant he’d been awake far too early this morning, but he’d gone for a run and then met his parents for a quick breakfast before all the chaos of the day could come spilling in.

“Mmm, no,” David says, “And I don’t think my wedding night look would be as good in prison orange.”

Patrick’s eyebrows rocket up toward his hairline, his voice dropping low in contrast. “You, uh, you have a wedding night look?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

David’s smile goes all crooked and enigmatic, and Patrick thanks the universe for what certainly won’t be the last time today for bringing this man into his life. He drags him in to kiss him again, licking teasingly into David’s mouth to show him exactly how much he’s looking forward to it.

When David starts to pull away, Patrick chases him down again, not quite ready to give up kissing his fiancé just yet, leaving David laughing against his lips, the happy sound of it bubbling in Patrick’s belly like champagne until he feels drunk on it. Finally, with one last kiss to the corner of David’s lips, he leans back, taking in all the warmth in David’s eyes and the joy on his lips, still marveling that he gets to be the one to make him look like that for the rest of their lives.

“I guess we should… go,” David says, nodding toward the front doors, though he doesn’t move any closer to them.

“Actually, um, I-- I have something for you first.”

“Oh.”

Patrick swallows and pulls the small box from his pocket.

“And here I thought you were just happy to see me,” David teases, but his face falls serious as Patrick hands him the gift. He flips the top of the box up on its hinges and plucks out the key, the uncut edge of it glimmering in the sunlight. “What’s this for?”

“Nothing yet,” Patrick says with a nervous little shrug. “It’s a-- a promise. I know that with all the wedding planning we haven’t had a chance to really look for a new place, and even though you’ve been staying with me, you keep having to go back to the motel for things, and most of the stuff you have brought to the apartment is still in boxes, and I just…” He can feel that he’s rambling and takes a deep breath to try to rein it in. The wild beating of his heart calms just a little. “I want you to have a home. A real one. So this is a promise. We can start looking tomorrow if you want. But after everything that you’ve given me, I just-- I want to give you the home that you deserve.”

“Button.” It sounds like a sob, choked and wet, and David’s lips tremble as he leans in closer. “Patrick. You are my home,” he whispers before kissing Patrick so, so softly. Patrick clutches the counter behind him to ground himself, to keep from floating away when David pulls back, just far enough for Patrick to see the honesty shining in his eyes like gold. “You’re my home,” he says again. “You have been for a long time. And it doesn’t matter where we live, that will still be true. The rest is just… decor.”

And then Patrick is kissing him again, his fingers against David’s jaw, drawing him in like a ragged breath, hard and desperate. There’s the distant sound of things hitting the floor and then David’s fingers are clutching at his shoulders, grabbing onto him like a lifeline. Patrick could stay here like this forever, would if he could, breathing David in, but suddenly there’s a loud knock against the glass of the store windows. They jump apart guiltily to find Stevie outside, laughing and tapping on her wrist.

David gives her the finger in response, but the wide smile plastered on his face undercuts the effect a bit.

Laughing, Patrick bends to pick up the key where David dropped it on the floor in favor of getting his hands on Patrick instead. “I mean it though,” he says earnestly, turning it over in his hands, watching it catch the light. “I know there was some… confusion... when I moved into the apartment.” David quirks an incredulous eyebrow his way, and Patrick shakes his head fondly. “For which I have already apologized profusely. But I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings this time.”

He considers dropping to one knee just for the way it would make David’s eyes light up, but he also considers the lifetime of grumbling he’ll get if he gets his suit dirty before they take photos. That almost makes it worth it, but instead he simply holds out the key on his open palm.

“David, will you move in with me?”

The wet shine in David’s eyes makes Patrick’s throat tighten painfully. “Yes.” David sniffles, sounding just as overwhelmed as he had the day he’d opened a box to find four gold rings nestled inside. “I will.”

And then David’s kissing him again, wet and inelegant and absolutely overflowing with joy. Patrick kisses him back with everything he’s got, I will playing on repeat with every press of their lips.

Because after months spent saying I do, it’s those two words instead that will carry them through today: I will. They’d written their vows with that as the response. I will. Not I do. Because a wedding isn’t about the present; it’s about the future. It’s about the start of a life spent together. It’s about looking out toward the years on the distant horizon and saying, whatever may come our way, I will still be here at your side. I will still love you. I will still choose you, every single day. I will. I will. I will.

“Don’t make me drag you two out of here,” interrupts Stevie’s voice, and David’s groan rumbles in Patrick’s chest where they’re pressed together. He peeks at her over David’s shoulder, standing just inside the door, arms crossed sternly across her chest. But her mouth is curved into a small, fond smile, and Patrick can’t help grinning back at her.

David just grumbles, reaching up to smooth down the shoulders of Patrick’s jacket where he’d rumpled the fabric. “It’s our wedding day. You’d think we could have five whole minutes alone to make out without rude people”--he raises his voice as if Stevie might mistakenly think he were talking about anyone but her--”interrupting us.”

Patrick giggles, giddy and light. This is his future, this pouting, ridiculous, sarcastic, beautiful, generous, kindhearted, absolute force of a man. Patrick gets to marry him. He gets to be his husband. He gets to spend an entire lifetime by his side, and nothing could possibly make him happier.

He leans in to kiss David once--twice--more, laughing again when David whines as he pulls away. “Let’s go get married,” he says. “We have the rest of our lives to make out.”

David’s answering smile could power an entire city.

“We do.”

And with that happy thought buzzing beneath their skin, they step out onto the pavement, into the warm, bright afternoon sunshine, hand-in-hand, with Stevie at their side, and walk down the street toward Town Hall. Toward all their family and friends gathered together to celebrate with them.

Toward their future, whatever it may hold.

#schitt's creek #schitts creek #david x patrick #david rose #patrick brewer #rebel writes #wsltstty #long post #as always apologies if the cut doesn't appear on mobile #eight million years later i finally finished this fic #the whole thing is also on ao3 if you prefer to read there

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abyssnia · 5 years

Text

Babel Chapter 3. Seven

Seven years for him to prove it. To prove that he, a poor boy from Gaffney can do it.

The Hale-Underwood wedding

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19241746

or continue here

drop the stardust from your shoulders

stand besides me

in the summer rain

until the rivers run upstream

.:.:.

3rd of September dawns on them faster than they thought. The ever cooling nights make summer seem like a far away memory tucked somewhere in the back of their heads. Short were the summer nights and short was the journey from one glance to love. She opens her eyes in a foreign room. Flowers on the tapestry coil in the same way as her anxiousness and happiness swirl inside her chest. Warm light showers her as she sits on the neatly made half of the bed in solitude, soaking up the slowly rising sun.

It’s a tradition that the groom doesn’t get to see the bride the day before the wedding, so her mother has made her stay the night in a smaller suite in their fancy hotel. Well as fancy as a small town like Gaffney can get. Her mother has arranged everything she could get her greedy little hands on. If she doesn’t get to sell her daughter out for the highest bidder like a broodmare, she is going to make sure to leave her fingerprints everywhere. After all the wedding should reflect the stature of the Hales. For a month she has had to live under her mother’s cold eyes judging and picking her apart. It had reminded Claire of her younger years, struggling to grow under her mother’s iron fist. But Elizabeth Hale is not there to watch her daughter as she sneaks off from her suite like she used to sneak out from her room in the dead of the night.

Fresh cool air and morning dew welcomes her outside. She misses Boston already. The colder temperature is suited better for her compared to the burning hotness of the southern summer. The shop’s door clinks as Claire slides in in the early hour of the morning. The shop is a mix of scents varying from different chemicals to the floral scents of the hair products. Dorothea greets her in with a giddy smile motioning for her to sit down on a cozy looking leather chair.

‘’You already look like a princess!’’ Dorothea gasps romantically as she throws the white cover over Claire’s shoulders. White fabric falling like a veil over her, covering her twitching hands. Claire ignores Dorothea’s compliments as she scrutinizes her dark under eyes closely through the mirror, exhaling slowly as Dorothea starts to comb her fingers through Claire’s thick golden hair, untangling the mess. Maybe she can do some magic on her face later with the make up.

Dorothea starts working on her as she parts her hair lifting up the curtain that now covers her whole back. The heavy shadow she has learned to hide behind. Is this petulant act of rebellion against her mother? Hasn’t she mentally grown at all from those far away days? Maybe it’s her asserting herself. It’s my body, my decision. It’s me. As Dorothea’s fingers run through her now silky smooth hair Claire voices: ‘’I’ve made the decision. I want you to cut it here.’’

.:.:.

Frank doesn’t think he’s ever been this nervous. He keeps walking in circles in the backroom of the church unable to sit down and just wait. Patience has never been one of his strongest suits. He can feel the cold stone wearing out underneath his soles. So many questions are clouding his head, stopping any relevant thought trying to pass through. Will Claire be there? Would she break her promise, abandon him like this, on their wedding day without a word? He hates to be kept in the dark, waiting and useless.

She definitely might. Her mother may have talked her over. Twisted Claire’s head in the same way Elizabeth Hale has managed to crawl under his skin on this past few weeks. He can finally understand the pressure of the shadow of Elizabeth hovering over Claire.

Sweat is beginning to gather on his brow from his nervous pacing and the still heavy autumn air weighting down on him. How fitting that he is a sinner sweating in a church. How could he have thought that a woman with Claire’s stature would marry a dirt poor farm boy from south with nothing in his name. There certainly isn’t a lack of competition for her hand. She could have chosen anyone. An hour before the wedding he stands there in his perfectly tailored white suit and he feels like a fraud. He’s ashamed of luring Claire into this mess and more afraid that she has come to the same realization of him being a social climber. That he is not worthy of her. He can’t help the devil on his shoulder whispering these thoughts into his ears heightening his sense of uncertainty. Making him ready to run off from the venue.

Creaking of the door interrupts Frank’s manic pacing making his heart leap. The door reveals Charles Hale wearing a stylish navy suit and understanding smile on his face. ‘’Don’t worry about Elizabeth she can be a bit prickly when she’s nervous. She’ll be busy soon enough as the guests arrive. She’s a tough woman. You’ll have to give her some time to soften up but she’ll come along.’’ He adds with a chuckle: ‘’Eventually.’’

Even though Charles Hale’s aura is warm and welcoming Frank can only get a nervous laugh out of himself. He is a proud and intelligent business man. Frank only has respect for him. Frank’s palms are sweaty as he crosses his fingers together, trying his best to seem calm and collected: ‘’Well I can tell that Claire has taken some after her mother.’’

Charles Hale can’t help but smile at the fact. No matter how old Claire is, she will always be his little girl laughing wholeheartedly while riding Red on their back yard. With age she has become more like Elizabeth, and there is more Elizabeth in Claire than Claire would like to admit.

‘’Even though Elizabeth’s been hard on her, she loves Claire more than anything. She’s the most precious thing in our entire lives. She just wants what’s best for her. As do I.’’ Charles looks at Frank with understanding smile, trying to ease him down from his worries.

‘’Claire is the only family I have besides my mother. And I love her more than my words can express.’’ Frank confesses fiddling with this heavy coppery class ring. He doesn’t want to reveal anything about his bastard of a father. The heavy class ring on his hand continues to remind him of his salvation, the Sentinel. His escape from the hell his mother and him had to live in. Soon the heavy ring will get a brother on his bare ring finger. A reminder of his bright future.

Charles Hale has been watching him closely the whole time since he arrived to Gaffney a week ago: ‘’I can see that. And that’s why I’m letting you marry Claire. You would do anything for her.’’ Silence falls over the pair. They both listen to the echoing voices coming from the church.

Charles clears his voice attracting Frank’s attention back to him: ‘’I’m willing to support you and your ambitions for congress. Whatever it is that you need, you’ll have it. As long as you make Claire happy.’’

Frank is about to deny his more than generous offering before he continues:

‘’Claire’s happiness and wellbeing is the most important thing for me. From now on it’s going to be your top priority too. Don’t let me down son.’’

.:.:.

There are thousands of butterflies stuck in Francis’ stomach flying in a circle, daring to rise up to his throat. Deep booming of the church bells signal her arrival and when the wooden doors reveal the light of his life, the butterflies are set free. Days of waiting have brought them here. He thought there wouldn’t be a feeling to match it, when he first time laid his eyes on her three years ago in that garden. How could he have been so wrong. Her approaching figure knocks his breath away. He forgets all of the insecurities clawing at him from before, as she walks towards him down the aisle. White light pours inside the church from the open doors making her skin glow, creating a halo over her. His angel.

He believed that she couldn’t be anymore radiant but there she stands on red velvet covered by elegant white dress that drapes over the curves of her body in rivers of silk. With her head held high she looks like a Greek goddess, flown to the ground from the Olympus. Her golden hair wrapped up in a simple sleek updo away from her face bares her tall neck and sharp clavicles. Her steps are measured and graceful as she slowly glides towards him accompanied by her father. Both of them look statuesque. Rays of sun through the stained glass windows shower her in a spectrum of colours, breathing life into her.

Their eyes lock from afar. The crowd fades away as she slowly makes her way closer to him. As she nears him, he make out little crystals of happiness in the bright blues of her eyes. Their brilliant shine is only competed by the diamonds sparkling on the decollete of her haute couture dress, dripping down her chest like the tears that have fallen down her cheeks or the cold spring rain that washed down on them. When he sees Claire’s eyes beaming with happiness instead of tears, he dares to finally inhale.

The velvet carpet leading to Francis feels endless. Even the pipe organ can’t cover her heartbeat pounding in her ears. If she didn’t know any better, she would be sure that the whole affair could see her heart daring to leap out of her chest. Fresh flowers, her favourite, are tightly clutched on her hands, stopping her from fidgeting with her nails. She holds the bouquet tight in her fingers, like her life would depend on the blooms. Green of the leaves stand out against the stark white flowers. Claire can smell the intoxicating scent coming from the flowers.

White roses, lilies, tulips and gardenias.

Innocence, magnificence, everlasting love and clarity.

Claire’s sharp heels sink into the plush carpet digging deep as they drift closer to the altar. Silence following her measured footsteps instead of the powerful clicks she’s so used to hearing. She doesn’t even dare to look at her father, standing proud besides her, guiding her forward. Claire hopes mother can’t see her legs shake through the silk drapes of her dress. As she dares to tear her eyes away from the endless sea of red before her, she is faced with the fiery burn of his brown eyes.

He can’t recall anything about the ceremony. Later this all will feel like a dream. They hadn’t written their own vows, for they already made one for each other in whispers while covering their bodies in kisses. There were no rings to bind them, only their hushed words in the setting sun. He can only breathe her in while pretending to listen to the priest. She makes him smile as a sly smirk plays on the corners of her rosy lips. There’s no hesitation on her face, even though from up close he can see her racing heart from the hollow in her neck. And as they vow to be with each other in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, he has drowned in her eyes. Whatever she desires from him next is granted. Blue of her irises hypnotize him lulling him into a deep sense of security. Compared to the bright blues of her eyes the brilliant autumn sky looks like lead.

Francis’ hand feels terribly hot in hers as a circle of diamonds is slipped around her ring finger. It’s a perfect fit for her slender hand. As the ring is secured in her finger, Francis squeezes her hand in his to offer her comfort as the priest pronounces them husband and wife. His lips feel like fire against hers as they bodies close together. Their lips tenderly brush against each other in a modest sweet kiss appropriate for the moment. She keeps her eyes closed for a second breathing against his lips before they turn to face the cheering crowd.

Claire Underwood

.:.:.

The after party is all sucking up to relatives and trying to exchange pleasantries. Francis feels comfortable in these situations, where he gets to charm his way through the room impressing guests, family and friends with his wit and quick brain. Claire has consciously pulled back from the big crowd as she’s focused on playing the perfect demure bride. A wallflower.

After everyone on the venue has fallen in love with Francis, they finally make it back to their own house. Birds are chirping in the nearby trees as the pair takes in the view of their home. The sapling they planted over a year ago has grown so much, showing how much time had passed. Her heels click against the stone as the pair sways together to the soft hums of Francis’ voice. They are going to build a home here for them, together. On the pavement he sweeps her in his arms in a billow of light blue silk. Claire squeaks from the surprise wrapping her hands tightly around Francis. He carries her carefully over the foyer like the tradition. After the initial shock, it makes Claire scoff against his chest. He stops her eye roll by smacking a wet kiss on her cheek.

‘’You can let me down already. I think I’m clear to walk on my own now.’’ Claire voices as she lets go of Francis’ neck. He gingerly leans forward to let her down on her feet. As she’s safely back on the floor, they stop to stand still in the silence of their own house. They take in the still bare living room with the limited furniture they have. The house is decorated with neutral colours. Its white walls are still devoid of any memories.

‘’Too clear I say. You should have drank more of that great champagne.’’Frank jokes breaking the silence as he starts to undo the bow on his neck. Claire laughs at the mental image before opening the scene for him: ‘’Imagine mother’s face seeing her darling little girl making a scene in her own wedding. It would be the scandal of the year for her.’’

Frank would love nothing more than to see the outraged face of Elizabeth Hale scolding very drunk Claire. ‘’Every family needs that one drunk relative who spices up the utterly boring parties and family fairs.’’

‘’You know she’s already based a bet on when we will divorce.’’ Claire’s voice has taken a more serious tone as she frees her aching feet from the silvery high heels.

‘’I hope she’s ready to be disappointed. She’ll see that I’m never going to let you go.’’ He closes his arms on her embracing her as she rests her head on his strong shoulder. His words sound as scary as they did years ago.

Slowly they move to their bedroom in the back of the house. Jewels are placed in a leather box on her dresser as she removes the heavy diamonds from her ears. He drapes his suit carefully on a hanger and lays down on the edge of their mattress on the floor. Light panels are lined up straight across the ceiling. Frank turns his eyes away from the panels as she slowly drops the simple yet classic reception dress from her shoulders revealing white lace underneath. His mouth goes dry the second time today from the sight of her. It hypocritical. How she can look so innocent and yet so seductive in her white underthings.

He sits up to the edge of the mattress motioning for her to move closer to him. Their eyes lock as he slowly kisses down her chest. His lips travel over the hardening nubs of her breasts. The lacy dream snaps open from his fingers, baring her breasts to his hungry mouth. Leaving her to shiver in her white lace panties and a garter belt. Moan escapes her rosy lips from the pleasure as his mouth coaxes more small gasps of air out of her.

When Francis moves to caress her nipples with his nimble fingers, she’s free to lift her hands up to her hair. She carelessly pulls couple of pins out of her hair. Finally her hands find the rigged edge of the jeweled comb from the back of her hair. She pulls it up and out, blonde silk sliding through the teeth of the comb, letting her hair down. Instead of a blonde mane falling down her back like a waterfall, her blonde hair swishes on her shoulders. Her breasts left bare without the hair hiding her body from his hungry gaze.

‘’You cut it.’’ His statement cracks the silence. His rough fingers caress the blunt edges of her freshly cut hair barely touching her shoulders. Intrigued by the change in her. He can’t help but be surprised by the fact, that he had been so focused on her perfect face and body that he hadn’t even noticed her missing bun of hair.

Her face looks sharper than before. Her jawline ready to cut iron. His fingers move to her jaw as he traces the shape of her face. Her striking features could be sculpted from marble by one of the masters. Her icy eyes follow the movement in his as he continues to caress her face in his hands while he takes her in. Claire nibbles nervously on her lower lips waiting for his judgement of her reckless behaviour. Instead of harsh words, she’s faced with his smouldering kiss against her pale lips.

‘’You are perfect.’’

He whispers against the side of her mouth before wrapping his hands tightly around her. She follows his strong arms leading her on their bed. Even though she’s perfect, he embraces her like she would be broken. As she breathes to the crook of his neck, he almost squeezes the life out of her like trying to desperately mold their bodies together. Love for him overflows her heart. They make love through the night on their mattress on the floor. His rough fingers dig into her now short hair. Unable to find any purchase from the slippery silk.

.:.:.

The sun is ready to greet them when they stumble on to their patio to smoke. Claire shivers from the chilly morning air, wrapped only in her light cashmere robe. Cold creeps up from her bare feet making her wrap her arms tightly around her middle to look for warmth. Silver lighter snaps to life and with its flame Frank lights up a cigarette for them to share. With every inhale fire consumes the cigarette turning the rest into ashes. After moments of silence, it’s all gone. Claire stumps the cigarette on the ornate glass before leaning on his shoulder.

She admires the view with her head resting against his shoulder. Beautiful soft pinks and oranges rise to the sky with the sun colouring the clouds in their soft hue. Her thoughts are running slow from the fatigue. She’s content to be right here by his side. Sleep and cold is sneaking up her bones making her eyes close involuntarily. Her eyes have closed a dozen times before shivering Claire picks herself up and squeezes his now warm shoulder tightly, before sliding inside from the double doors leaving Frank outside alone in the crisp morning air.

His thoughts run more clear without the warmth of Claire by his side. Yesterday had been all smiles, kisses and rainbows. His mind has stilled from the turmoil and emotion of yesterday as the anxiety of the morning had changed into teeth rotting happiness. With a long exhale he pushes everything away. All of his senses focused solely on the nature surrounding their house. On the scent of the dew gathering on the strands of grass growing on their yard. He can hear the songbirds somewhere in the tall old trees surrounding their estate. As he raises his eyes from the grass he can see the birds take off far away. They spread their wings and leave their trees rising up to the blue sky because it is in their nature to fly.

Autumn winds have always brought the change with them. This is the official start of their first seven years together. Their deal has now begun. He can almost see the congress shining in the distant horizon if he looks far enough. Why seven years, he can’t help but wonder. He has had a year to find out the answer to her riddle. For there are seven treacherous paths to heaven. Seven long halls in the underworld. Seven deadly sins they both have committed and are guilty of. No, that’s not it. Heaven or hell it’s all the same with her.

Seven years for him to prove it. To prove that he, a poor boy from Gaffney can do it. To get into the Congress. Under three years to establish himself in a new light and get everyone to fall in love with him. Claire is a vital part of the plan. Together they’ll represent the American dream. Visions of them ruling the free world run through his brain. One nation, one leader: Underwood. He has placed all of his faith in the future, in them. They are each other’s adulthood, future and absolution. They are each other’s sorrow, happiness and redemption.

They will be made out of each others memories.

Dibbing of the mattress wakes her up from the web of dreams as Francis slowly slides back under the covers. He stays on his side of the mattress letting her alone. In the dark he hadn’t noticed her wide open eyes. For minutes she listens to his irregular breaths steadying and finally calming down. As she waits for the sleep to come, her thoughts drift to the impossible red wine stain on her reception dress. Sun is shining on the sky when sleep is about to claim her. She closes her eyes besides Francis, not being able to feel the weight of his ring around her finger anymore.

#house of cards #hoc #fanfiction #fic rec #babel #genesis #wedding #Claire Underwood #Frank Underwood #Francis Underwood #one nation #this is shit but here it is

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worryinglyinnocent · 7 years

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Fic: A Helping Hand From Beyond (11/?)

Summary: “You know, sometimes the deceased stay with us, waiting until they’re sure we’ve moved on before they can move on themselves. Giving us a helping hand from beyond, as it were.”

When Gloria Rush and Rum Gold meet one cold October morning, they quickly come to the realisation that they share a common goal – to help those they left behind in life to move on and find happiness again. Using what little means available to them, the two lost souls team up to ensure their widows’ future, and find their own peace.

Rumbelle, Rushbelle, Gloria/Nick, and an epic Gold&Gloria bromance.

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[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [Eight] [Nine] [Ten] [AO3]

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Eleven

A Choice

Gold bears witness to a crucial moment for Belle.

It’s been three weeks since they managed to stall Belle’s frantic desperation and gently move things back onto the track that they ought to be on. For the most part, Gold and Gloria have stayed out of the way, just watching their charges and letting them make their own way through the world, letting them get used to being friends and get used to the idea of having another person in their life getting closer and closer to that vulnerable core. They’ve needed very little nudging in the right direction, really, regularly meeting outside of class for coffee or lunch, or just to talk in Nicholas’s office about the things Belle is learning on his courses. Gloria is proud of the way Nicholas is letting Belle in by little degrees, and Gold is proud of the way that Belle has embraced this new friendship and not bolted as she had shown signs of doing. Perhaps with the knowledge that they can just be friends for however long they need to be, there’s less pressure on either of them to make a decision regarding their romantic future. A decision will have to be made soon, because the attraction hanging in the air between them is palpable and if either one of them decides to walk away because they don’t think that their feelings are reciprocated, then Gloria and Gold will have their work cut out for them.

But for now, everything seems to be on an even keel, and Gold is content to watch the two of them get closer.

He’s sitting beside Gloria on their usual bench, watching through Nicholas’s office window as he exuberantly explains something to Belle, casting aside papers and sending post-its flying as he tries to find more writing space. Gloria herself is unusually subdued. She’s always quiet, but there’s a pensive expression on her face now, and Gold turns to her.

“Is everything all right?”

She gives a slow nod.

“Something’s changing,” she said. “I can feel it.” She pauses. “I don’t feel as centred as I did three weeks ago.”

Gold worries his lip between his teeth; it’s a tell he picked up from Belle and subconsciously carried through to the afterlife with him. He can feel it too, the change. It’s been so gradual he hasn’t noticed it until now Gloria has drawn his attention to it. He can feel his mind wandering more, keeping him less in the moment, as if he’s being drawn elsewhere.

“Do you think this is it?” he asks. “Do you think our work here is done, and we can move on?”

Gloria shrugs. “I think it’s coming to its close,” she says. “I don’t claim to know how it works. You only die once. I’m as in the dark as you are. Maybe there isn’t a definitive point where we cross over. Maybe we just fade gradually, as we’re needed less and less.”

The thought chills Gold. He was never a great believer, but the idea of just, well, vanishing into nothingness, isn’t a particularly welcoming one. He can feel the memory of fear in his veins, and all of a sudden he wants to stay right where he is.

“I don’t think it’s something that you can fight.”

He turns sharply to see Gloria’s expression becoming a little amused.

“It’s a symbiosis, in a way,” she continues. “That’s what I’ve come to see it as over these last few weeks. We stick around because they need us. But I think in a way, we need them too. And as they move on and let go of us, so we let go of them.”

Gold nods. He’s not quite sure how comforting the thought is.

“We’ve got movement,” Gloria says, changing the subject as the lights in Nicholas’s office go out and the two figures, silhouetted in the dim light of the corridor, leave the room. Neither Gold nor Gloria make any move. They’ve been leaving Belle and Nicholas to their own devices more and more, letting them live and move on uninhibited.

They leave the building together and stay talking for a long time outside, obviously getting ready to go in opposite directions, but then at the last minute Nicholas turns and comes in the same direction as Belle. They pause near Gold and Gloria’s bench, and their conversation is clear to hear, even though they don’t usually listen in.

“I was wondering,” Belle is saying, “if you wanted to come over for dinner next week. I’ve just realised that I’ve never cooked for you.”

Gold gives a little chuckle and Gloria quirks an eyebrow.

“It’s a good sign,” he assures her. “I always cooked for Belle, she never cooked for me. I do believe that this might be a romantic overture.”

Gloria laughs. “Well, here’s hoping that it gets the right response.”

“I… That… That would be lovely,” Nicholas finally agrees.

“Why don’t you come over Wednesday?” Belle suggests. “There’s no school Wednesday afternoons.”

And they both have an early start on Thursday morning, Gold reflects, so by suggesting Wednesday she’s already set limits in place. Yes, this is Belle taking control of the situation and taking the first steps to move it up a gear at her own pace, in her own comfort zone. All he can do is hope that Nicholas’s and Belle’s comfort zones overlap.

“Well, at the end of the day, it can just be seen as an evening together with a friend,” Gloria says, giving voice to Gold’s thoughts.

He nods, but something at the back of his mind is still uneasy, and as Nicholas and Belle say their goodbyes and go in their opposite directions at last, he stands.

“Gold?” Gloria looks up at him.

“I’m going home with Belle tonight,” he says. It’s a risky move, they normally keep their distance after Nicholas and Belle have had ‘dates’, to keep the aura of death away from them. But Gold can’t help remembering the last time a major step was taken in the relationship and the fallout that almost happened because of it. If Belle is going to have another nightmare that might set her back, it will be tonight, after she’s made this step. He has no idea what he might be able to do to stop it, but he wants to be there just in case, to leap in and head her off at the pass if he needs to. Hell, he’ll try and turn visible and tell her in no uncertain terms that he wants her to move on and be happy with Nicholas, if that’s what it takes.

Gloria nods her understanding, but doesn’t move herself, and Gold walks away, trailing after Belle as she leaves the campus and walks home to her apartment, not too far away. She’s smiling as she moves around the place, and Gold watches from the corner by the door, hidden in the shadows, unobtrusive. There’s nothing to show that her subconscious might turn against her, but then, there wasn’t last time, either. All in all, the evening yields nothing of worry, and after Belle retires for the night, Gold stretches out on the sofa, thinking. He closes his eyes, wishing that he could sleep again. The night stretches on, and in the next room, Belle sleeps on undisturbed.

Gold stares at the ceiling and lets his mind drift, off to a place he doesn’t know and a place he’s not sure he’s ready to go to yet. Something’s definitely changing, and he wishes that he knew what. He almost doesn’t notice when Belle emerges next morning.

It’s early, the day still not fully dawned outside, but she is still smiling the same contented smile that she was the previous evening. Nothing has happened, and Gold breathes a huge sigh of relief. He wonders how much of last night was a trap that Belle had set herself, testing the waters, inviting Nicholas over the apartment and giving herself enough time to cancel if she had another nightmare.

But it’s clear that there have been no nightmares, and now she can surge forward as she planned to do.

Gold jumps off the sofa as Belle comes to sit down on it, and in that moment he notices something else.

Belle is not wearing her engagement and eternity rings. Her wedding ring is still on, but there is no sign of the diamonds. Once she’s settled on the sofa, she spreads her hands over her skirt, dropping the rings onto her lap, along with a fine chain.

She threads the engagement and eternity rings onto the chain, and sits looking at her wedding ring for a long time.

His heart leaps to his mouth with anxiety as she begins to speak.

“Rum, love… I know I haven’t spoken to you for a while and I know you don’t mind that. I know that everyone will think that talking to you again would be taking a step backwards just when I want to move forwards. But I think that this needs to be said out loud, as it might be the last time I talk to you like this.”

She twists her wedding ring round and round her finger.

“Rum, I love you and I always will, but I’m taking my wedding ring off now. I don’t feel like I’m married to you any more. It’s not a bad thing. It just means I’m ready for the next stage of my life now. I love you. But you can love more than one person at once, and I’m ready for that now. Ready to let someone new in. But you’ll always be here. Close to my heart.”

She eases the wedding ring off her finger and slips it onto the chain with the others before fastening it around her neck and tucking it down the collar of her sweater. For a long time, she doesn’t say anything more, just staring at her unadorned fingers.

“Well, this is new,” she murmurs, rubbing the indent where the wedding ring used to sit.

Gold just smiles. “Oh, my darling,” he whispers. “You have my blessing. You always have.”

She needed to make the choice, he realises now. Just like she took matters into her own hands in inviting Nicholas to dinner and making that next step, she needed to make the choice to let herself be open to love again. She needed to be in control of that step, because the grief is still too fresh in places, and going with the flow, letting herself be swept up in it all, was terrifying her. She needed to make that decision to move on, to make a clean break once she knew she was ready, rather than just putting a toe in the water. Although Belle is impulsive, she has always lived by the maxim that she chooses her own fate. Moving on from Gold is another choice that she has to make, another choice that she couldn’t bear to have taken out of her hands, even if it was just by chance and not by anyone else making a decision on her behalf.

But now that decision is made, and Gold knows that there will be no more nightmares. Well, there will still be nightmares, but they’ll just be dreams now, not terrifying omens that hold her back. She made a conscious decision to move to California and she’s made a conscious decision to move on now. She feels in control of her own fate, and it’s this bright, happy, confident Belle that Gold has missed so much whilst he’s been watching over her these past three years.

Gloria is waiting for him when he returns to their bench. Nicholas seems to be in much the same spirits as normal, and Gloria gives Gold a quizzical look as he sits beside her.

“Everything’s fine,” he says. “Everything’s more than fine.”

Gloria smiles. “Now all we have to do is hope that Nicholas is feeling the same way.”

“I’m sure he is,” Gold says, although having known Nicholas all of a month, he’s not entirely sure he’s qualified to say so.

“I think he is. I just don’t want him to get cold feet and pull away. Still.” She smiles. “There’s a dinner date to be had, and even if something does go wrong at this late stage, Belle is moving on. You’ll move on too, soon.”

Gold can feel it now, that slight sense of detachment, and again, he doesn’t want to leave. Not yet. Not whilst Nicholas is still a wildcard and not whilst Gloria is still patiently waiting and watching.

He gets the feeling he’ll be sticking around a little longer.

#rushbelle #rushbelle fic #rumbelle #Fic: Helping Hand #Gloria Rush

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