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abundanceofsoph · 4 years

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SkyFire 2: Chapter 16

“Darling, Just Hold On”: Nov/Dec 2016

Word count: 4.7k

SkyFire 2 MASTERLIST

I’ve been debating whether to write this chapter for weeks and I’m still not entirely sure whether I should have skipped it. While I use real people's names and real life events in this story, in my head they’re all fictional characters since I don’t really know them or how they would actually act in any of these situations. I more just use their likeness and their situations to inspire the story so this chapter was something I didn’t feel like I should include. I tried not to focus too much on Johannah but I felt the bond between Louis and Aurora was so beautiful that I decided to keep this chapter in. I hope you understand why I’ve made this decision.

This chapter's also a bit longer than usual because I wanted to soften the blow of the angst with some domestic fluff. Anyway, we all know what’s coming in this chapter so I'll stop stalling and get on with it.

>Instagram posts

After the trip away, Harry and Aurora decided to stay in London in anticipation of attending the X Factor finale where Louis was going to perform his debut single with Steve Aoki. After the show, Anne and Robin would once again be joining them in New York for the holidays, but in the meantime, they were enjoying spending a few weeks at Harry’s Hampstead house and catching up with Rori’s friends.

One of those days they headed south to Wimbledon, walking the familiar streets of Aurora’s childhood, their winter outfits helping to hide them from prying eyes, however they were stopped a couple of times by observant fans. Aurora offered to take their photos with Harry but he asked them not to post until that evening so that they could enjoy their day without being mobbed. They headed for the Golden Stag as the sun began to set, grateful for the warmth that greeted them as they stepped through the doors. Greg was working behind the bar, his face lighting up as he watched them approach him and he walked around the end of the bar to sweep Rori into his arms. She buried her face into his shoulder as he held her tightly, feeling instantly at home in his arms.

“We missed you sweetheart,” he murmured while placing kisses to the crown of her head.

“Sorry it’s been so long,” she replied, squeezing him tightly one more time before stepping back from the hug.

“Just glad you’re here now,” he smiled. “Good to see you again Harry.”

“Good to see you too, Sir,” Harry replied, offering his hand and chuckling when Greg ignored it to hug him.

“Told you before you can just call me Greg,” he said as they stepped back. “You kids hungry? Grab a table and I’ll go let Helen know that you’re both here.”

They did as they were told, sliding into Aurora’s favourite booth that was close enough to the fireplace without being too hot.

Helen rushed out of the kitchen a few minutes later, beelining straight for their table and pulling Rori out of her seat and into a bone crushing embrace. “Oh, I missed you my darling,” she cooed, holding the younger woman tightly against her. “I swear every time I see you; you look more and more like your mother.”

“Missed you too Helen,” Rori murmured, her eyes glossy in response to Helen’s words.

“Now you’re both far too thin,” she clucked. “Let me get you some food and we’ll see if we can’t put some meet on those bones.”

Harry chuckled as she rushed back towards the kitchen and Aurora settled herself back into the booth. “I like her,” he said. “She reminds me of mum.”

“She reminds me of mine too,” Rori smiled softly, reaching across the table to take Harry’s hand in hers. “Always feel closer to her when I’m here. We should visit more.”

“Well once we buy a place of our own on this side of the river, we can visit all the time.”

“Sounds perfect.”

After dinner, Rori was eyeing the piano in the far corner, her lips twitching up in a slight grin as she remembered the hours she had spent sitting on that bench growing up. Her smile dropped as she once again berated herself for that stupid fall in the lobby a few weeks ago, knowing that she still had another week before she could wear her prosthetic and she was itching to play. “How do you feel about being my left hand?” she asked Harry.

“And what would you need my left hand for?” he asked, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.

“When Louis was at tower over summer, he’d play the left hand for me on the piano before I got my prosthetic. Thought we could maybe try that out.”

Harry smiled widely. “Sounds fun. Lead the way.”

Aurora’s answering grin lit up her face and she jumped to her feet joyfully, grabbing Harry’s hand and tugging him across the room towards the piano. The pub wasn’t crowded, with only a few of the regulars on their stools at the bar, a few families finishing their dinner and a couple of young girls sitting by the door. Aurora had noticed the girls flicking glances towards her and Harry over the past hour, and she was pretty sure they were working up the courage to come over and say hi. She laughed as she imagined the stories they would tell their friends tomorrow about Harry Styles playing the piano in the little pub where they had dinner. Helen watched the pair take a seat on the old piano bench, smiling as they laughed, trying to find the rhythm. They stuttered over the start of a song a couple of times before they got the timing right, settling into the tune. Most of the patrons ignored the pair, a few of the regulars smiling softly at the familiar sound after so many years, and the table of girls by the door watched on with rapt attention. Both Aurora and Harry wore matching grins as they played, their arms slung around each other’s backs as together they wove the melody of familiar songs eventually beginning to sing, giving the unsuspecting patrons an exclusive performance that others would have paid hundreds of pounds to attend if given the chance.

xXx

After having dinner at the Golden Stag, Rori and Harry spent the remaining weeks of November meeting with both their wedding planner and their realtor.

The wedding planning was relatively easy going, seeing as how everything was booked in and ready to go. Aurora still had a few more dress fittings in the new year but otherwise everything was finalised for the big day in only a few months’ time.

The house hunting on the other hand was a little less under control. Harry had agreed with Aurora when she suggested that they look at apartments and penthouses as apposed to free standing houses. Her reasoning had been that she wanted to avoid the issues they’d had with fans camping outside Erskine House, and while they were hoping to avoid the publicizing of their new address, they both knew that it would only be a matter of time before Harry’s fans figured it out. Aurora loved his fans and was incredibly grateful that so many people recognised how incredibly talented he was and appreciated him, but she also got frustrated by how invasive they sometimes got about every tiny aspect of his life, and by extension hers as well. After deciding that they wanted an apartment, Aurora had stipulated that they buy south of the river so that she could be closer to Wimbledon, and Harry decreed that they needed at least 4 bedrooms in addition to the master suite. He planned on turning one into an art studio for Aurora, while another could become a simple recording studio, nothing close to the scale of her studios in Avengers Tower, but just a little something to make it feel like home. He hadn’t mentioned anything to Aurora, but the reason he wanted 2 bedrooms left over once they created the studios, was that he planned for one to be turned into a nursey while the other could remain as a traditional guest room for when their families visited. All of these aspects, as well as the need for plenty of room for Harry’s car collection had left their poor realtor, Lee, with the unenviable job of finding the perfect place for the young couple. He found them four different properties and set up private inspections for each.

The first was in Southwark and Harry was immediately impressed the moment they walked into the lobby and were greeted by the doorman. The security of the building was excellent and they both smiled softly at each other as they took the elevator to the 24th floor with Lee.

“Now this isn’t the penthouse apartment,” Lee explained as the entered the apartment. “But there’s only two apartments above you and there’s shared access between you and 3 other apartments for the rooftop garden.”

Aurora let go of Harry’s hand as they wandered into the main living area, large windows opening out to the Thames and a beautiful view of the city.

“The kitchen and entertainment area are all on this level with a bathroom off the entry hall,” Lee continued as they walked around. “There’s 4 bedrooms upstairs including the master suite with walk in robe and ensuite, with an additional bathrooms for the guest rooms.”

“Only 3 spare rooms?” Harry asked. “Not ideal.”

“I don’t really like the idea of climbing those stairs every day,” Aurora added.

“How about we head to the second property?” Lee asked, accepting immediately that this was not the right fit. “We can always come back if you change your mind.”

Harry motioned for Lee to lead the way and they headed back to the elevator. Once they reached the ground they climbed into Harry’s car.

The second property was only a few minutes away, still in Southwark, and just behind the Tate Modern. “I like the idea of just popping over to the galleries,” Aurora noted as they entered the apartment and spotted the familiar building out the window, the river and Millennium bridge also filling in the landscape sprawled out in front of them. While the building ticked off everything on their list, there was something missing that neither Harry nor Aurora could put their finger on. Whatever it was, the third apartment in Vauxhall was also missing it, leaving them with only one property left to view.

“It’s not available today but we can view it on Tuesday if you want to meet me there at 2pm,” Lee explained once they left the third apartment.

“That works for us,” Harry agreed, “we’ll see you then.”

xXx

They arrived in Battersea a few hours before they were meant to meet up with Lee to view the final property on his list, opting to grab lunch in a nearby café and then wander through Battersea Park.

“I used to come here a lot with my mum,” Rori said as they walked, arm in arm, rugged up against the cold wind blowing in off the Thames. “Used to love going to the kid’s zoo, but mum really loved all the flowers, so we’d come every weekend in spring.”

“It’s beautiful here,” Harry agreed. “We filmed a music video here.”

“I know,” Rori laughed. “As soon as the fans found out you were here, Ella actually came down after school to try and meet you all.”

“Really?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, and I would have been right next to her, but I’d already moved to New York. Still remember watching the video and just feeling so nostalgic. Think that’s why it was my favourite song for so long.”

“You never told me that was your favourite.”

“Because it’s embarrassing, Harry.”

“No, it’s not,” he argued. “I think it’s really cute they you were such a big fan. Imagine if you didn’t like our music. You probably wouldn’t have gone to that after party with me and we never would have gotten the chance to get to know each other if you hated the band.”

“It’s still embarrassing to remember I used to read fanfiction about the man who is about to be my husband,” she replied, laughing softly as they turned towards the river.

“I’m flattered,” Harry promised, kissing her cheek as she blushed. “Now let’s go see our dream home, hopefully.”

Lee was waiting for them outside the riverside apartment building, the ever impressive Battersea Power Station looming next door. The lobby was empty when Lee led them inside Scott House, using a key card to activate the elevator. He explained on the short ride to the 8th floor that the building was nearing completion and the first round of tenants were due to start moving in at the beginning of February.

The elevator opened onto a pristine hallway; the colour scheme monochromatic which was very much to Auroras taste. Lee turned right out of the elevator, leading them to the apartment’s front door, once again using the key card to gain access.

They entered into an entry hall that led straight into what Lee called the reception room, which flowed through to a kitchen/dining area. “This was originally designed to be 3 separate units, but they altered it to create one large 5 bedroom penthouse,” he explained as they entered. “There are 4 other units on this floor, but the sound proofing is state of the art, so you won’t be able to hear them. There’s a secondary entrance from the main hall into the apartment that leads directly into the kitchen so you can bypass the entry hall.” He pointed out the specific features of the kitchen and the enclosed patio that was marketed as a winter garden that ran the length of the apartment, looking out at the power station to their right and the river on the left. “Because it was originally three units,” Lee continued as he led them down a long hallway off the kitchen, “you get three parking spots in the underground garage.”

Aurora sensed Harry brightening at this, but her attention was focused on the 4 bedrooms, office space, study and utility room that Lee pointed out as they passed. Each bedroom had its own bathroom and built in robes with an additional walk-in situated in between them all. They returned back to the central kitchen via the winter garden, and Rori found herself falling in love with the property more and more with every step. In its unfinished state she was able to imagine the furniture she could buy to fill the space and the colours she would paint the walls, really making a home for herself and Harry.

“And now if we head back through the reception room,” Lee said as he directed them. “You have the master bedroom with the spacious walk-in and dressing room which lead through to the ensuite with a full size tub at one end and a twin shower head in the shower at the other end of the room. His and hers basins and marble tiling.”

“God damn,” Rori muttered as she looked around, picturing the décor she could add to bring out their personalities in the space. “H, I love it.”

“Me too,” Harry replied, equally impressed with the entire apartment.

“It’s not listed yet, so if you can organise the down payment, I’d say we can get it locked down within the next few weeks.”

“Let’s sit down and talk contracts,” Harry replied, watching as Aurora’s smile grew as they walked back out into the bedroom.

“How about you meet me at my office in the morning and we can go over all the specifics then?” Lee asked to which Harry agreed.

“You happy, love?” Harry asked, turning to see Rori standing out on the balcony leading off the master bedroom, looking towards the Power Station. She turned back to him, her face aglow with excitement.

“I can see us starting a family here Harry,” she replied, letting out a surprised squeal as Harry picked her up and held her tightly against him, kissing her cheek.

“Me too my love,” he replied. “Me too.”

xXx

They were lying in bed on a Tuesday evening in the beginning of December, Harry’s head resting in Rori’s lap as she sat against the headboard reading. She was finally able to start wearing her prosthetic again, so she was holding the book in her left hand, the fingers of her right tangled in Harry’s curls. His own hands traced patterns across her thighs, a comfortable silence stretching around them. That silence was shattered as Harry’s phone started ringing on the nightstand and Aurora barely looked up from her book as she passed it to him. His head was still resting in her lap as he answered the call and she felt him freeze against her, a soft gasp escaping his lips.

“We’re on our way,” he said softly, clambering off the bed before Rori could even get her bookmark in place. He started throwing on clothes as she asked him what was going on, and it was clear that he hadn’t heard her at all.

“HARRY!” she yelled, finally breaking through to him. He froze, turning to look at her, his eyes wide and haunted. “What’s happening? What’s wrong.”

“Jay,” was all he said, his voice barely more than a whisper and there was nothing else he needed to say as Rori felt her blood run cold, certain that the haunted look in Harry’s eyes was now echoed in hers. She didn’t say a word, but just as quickly got dressed and moved to pack an overnight bag for the both of them. They were out the door and in the car within minutes. They’d both known this was coming for a while, but everyone had been hoping that she’d make it past the holidays. It took them 3 hours to reach Doncaster, and neither spoke as Harry drove through the night. Aurora turned the radio off after the first pop song played, so at odds with the sombre mood inside the car that she couldn’t handle it.

It was well after midnight by the time they reached Doncaster and headed straight to the Deakin house. Harry texted Louis to let him know they were there, not expecting a reply and not receiving one, and they let themselves inside with the spare key. Despite the late hour neither Harry nor Aurora could think of sleeping and Aurora started tidying up the living room. By the time the sun rose, they’d cleaned most of the house and Harry had thrown together a casserole to put in the oven when everyone got home. They collapsed on the sofa; phones clenched in their hands as they waited to hear.

It was nearing lunchtime when they heard cars pull into the driveway and slow trudging footsteps reached the front door. Aurora was waiting with her arms open and Louis fell into them gladly, holding her tightly as he cried. Harry hugged a few of the girls before moving to Dan’s side and ushering them all into the living room. He busied himself making tea while Louis and Rori continued to cling to each other. No one spoke beyond quite murmurs of thanks and the young couple spent the day doing whatever they could to help, ensuring that the grieving family ate before turning in to bed later in the evening.

They left Doncaster Friday afternoon, driving back to London and leaving Louis with his family to be together before heading to Wembley the next day. They had assumed that Louis would be cancelling his appearance on X Factor, but he shocked both of them that morning when he announced he was going ahead with the show. They promised to be there and hugged everyone tightly before climbing into their car. Neither spoke on the drive south, both physically and emotionally exhausted by the past two days.

“I just spent the whole time we were there wanting to say something to help Lou, but I had no idea what to say,” Harry admitted once they dropped their overnight bags inside the entry hall of the house.

“There’s nothing you can say,” Aurora said, walking to his side to wrap him in a tight hug. “Not really. At least that’s how it felt when mum died. Anytime anyone told me it was going to be ok I just wanted to scream.”

“Did anything help?” Harry asked softly, his face buried in the crook of her neck.

“Ella stayed over at the hospital that first night. She didn’t say anything, but she just held me. Looking back now, that meant more than anything else. Just knowing that she was there and that I wasn’t alone. That’s what I’ve been trying to do for Lou and the girls, just make sure they feel that they’re not alone.”

“I hate that you ever had to go through that, but I’m glad he has someone that knows what it’s like,” Harry said. “Sorry that sounded really shitty.”

“No I get it,” Rori replied, “and I’m glad I can be there for him too.”

They trudged upstairs and collapsed into bed, neither having the energy or appetite to think about dinner and instead just cuddled up next to each other under the covers. They were silent for a while, both sitting in their own grief until Harry started shaking.

“I can’t help but think we’re going to do this again with Robin,” he sobbed.

“Oh Harry,” Rori sighed, holding him tightly as he cried into her chest. “You can’t think like that. Robin’s tough. He’s going to fight, and he’ll be ok. We deserve the win.”

“We thought that about Jay,” he pointed out.

“I know,” Aurora agreed. “I’m scared too but if I let myself think about it then it’s going to crush us Harry. We have to believe he’ll be ok because we don’t have any other option.”

xXx

They were backstage at Wembley, a little under an hour before the show was set to start and there were plenty of people rushing around getting everything ready. For the most part people were leaving them alone, aware of what had happened and thankfully giving them all space. The boys were all there, as were Lottie and Flic, however Dan and the rest of the kids had stayed back in Doncaster. Occasionally someone would come over to offer their sympathy, while Steve took care of all the technical problems in preparation for the performance. Louis had already gotten through the sound check earlier, mostly holding it together and now was just sitting quietly with his sisters, trying to prepare to go out in front of the sold out crowd, and live tv audience.

“Hey Rori, can we go for a walk?” Louis asked not long before he was needed on stage. She nodded, standing up immediately and following him out of the room. They walked the hallways of the backstage area with his arm around her shoulders and hers firmly around his waist. Aurora stayed quiet, knowing that Louis would let her know what he needed from her. “The night we met,” he finally said, “It was the AMAs, remember?”

“Yeah I remember,” she replied, her voice matching his near whisper.

“That was the first time you performed after your mum?”

“It was the first time on my own,” she explained. “I’d done a couple of smaller shows with the band but that was the first time on my own.”

“How did you do it?”

“It was different. I’d had a few years of missing her, so it wasn’t as fresh, but it was still really hard, especially since the song was about her. I know you’re really asking how you’re supposed to go out there tonight and I don’t really have an answer for that.”

“Yeah, I know, sorry. You’re just the only one I know who’s been where I am right now.”

“You never have to apologise to me Lou. I’ll help however I can because I wish I’d had someone who knew how it felt. But you have something I didn’t have; you’ve got your family and you’ll all get through this together. I guess the best advice I can give is that she loved watching you on stage. She really fucking loved it and she was so proud of you. So am I.” They both started crying and stopped walking to bury their face in the curve of each other’s necks. “I love you so much big brother,” Rori whispered. “We’re all here to help you and the girls through this. You’re not alone.”

“Love you too Rors. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she whispered. “Now go out there and show the world our song.”

“Our song?” Louis scoffed, a small chuckle accompanying his words.

Aurora smiled in response and even though Louis knew exactly what she was doing, he appreciated her giving him shit like she always did. Just this little bit of normalcy helped him to believe that she was right and that it wouldn’t always hurt this much.

“Of course it’s our song,” she joked. “I helped you write the chorus when you stayed with me over summer. I expect my royalty cheques in the mail soon.”

“Not a chance love,” Louis laughed. “You can have the family discount off the merch though.”

“So kind of you.”

xXx

Harry stood behind Aurora as the song began, his arms wrapped tightly around her, his chest pressed firmly against her back and his chin resting on the crown of her head. She watched in awe as Louis jumped around the stage, tears streaming down her face as each line of the song hit like the lashes of a whip.

The sun goes down and it comes back up The world it turns no matter what Oh-oh-oh, if it all goes wrong Darling, just hold on

Even though she’d been the one to help write them, Aurora felt as though every word was slicing at her heart. Like every word was a screaming plea for things to have ended differently. For her to still be here with them. For her to still be here with him.

As the lights came up and the crowd cheered, Aurora brushed aside her tears, taking deep calming breathes so that by the time Louis reached them she was ready to be the shoulder he needed to lean on.

xXx

They’d stayed out late with Louis, eventually calling it a night when Aurora could barely keep her eyes open any longer. They’d collapsed into bed as soon as they returned home in the early hours of the morning, exhausted both physically and mentally.

Harry stirred as the sun streamed in through the bedroom window, the angle disorientating until he realised that it was afternoon and they had slept away half the day. He also realised that the sun had not been what woke him as he watched Rori slip into a pair of jeans, struggling to do up the buttons one handed.

“Need a hand?” he mumbled, voice husky with sleep.

She jumped a little, startled by his question before she turned to him with a cheeky grin. “I do need a hand actually. I seem to have misplaced one of mine.”

Harry rolled his eyes at her joke and motioned her over to the side of the bed so that he could reach out and do up the buttons for her. “Why are you getting dressed? Come back to bed.”

“Gonna go see mum,” she replied, kissing his forehead before grabbing a sweater off the end of the bed and slipping it over her head. “Be back in a few hours.”

“You want company or is this something you gotta do alone?” he asked softly, sitting up and letting the sheets pool around his hips.

“It’s ok baby, go back to sleep.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Harry replied. “I’m coming with you unless you want to be alone.”

“I wouldn’t mind the company,” she answered, smiling softly as Harry climbed out of the bed and slipped into his own clothes, taking her hand before leading her out of the bedroom.

An hour later Harry parked near the Wimbledon Cemetery, rounding the car to hold open the passenger door for Aurora before taking her hand and walking by her side through the large wrought iron gates. They walked quietly past the older headstones until they reached the newer plots, following the familiar winding paths until the reached Louise Bennett’s headstone. The grass was damp beneath Rori’s knees as she sank to the ground, Harry’s hand resting comfortingly on her shoulder as she reached out to brush away the dry autumn leaves on the ground.

“Hi Mumma,” she whispered. “Sorry I haven’t been to visit for a while, it’s been a pretty wild year.”

NEXT CHAPTER

OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3

#skyfire #skyfire fic #aurora stark #dad!tony #iron dad #step dad #stony #stony fic #boyfriend harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #superfamily #Harry Styles #tony stark #ptsd #domestic fluff #angst #best friend louis tomlinson #minor character death #grief/mourning

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chrisfranklinchow · 7 years

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Weight of Living

this is a little late but this was written for the first day of @chowderweek! (full moon)

this fic is based on personal experiences and i’m super happy with how it turned out :”) thank you to @omgcphee for cheering me on as i screamed my head off while scribbling it in my notebook!! also, thank you to my papa and our memories.

[Also on AO3]

(warning: minor character death in this fic!!!!!)

All he feels is dampness on his face as he lies spooning a package that’s travelled a long way. He’s gasping and trying to inhale more oxygen, trying not to choke. He buries his head in his wet pillow, trying to keep it down; he doesn’t want anyone to know that anything’s wrong.

He hears gentle knocks on the door and sucks it up, raising his hand to wipe his tears away before opening the door. However, he’s still grasping at a sheet of paper with familiar handwriting. Tears have flooded his eyes again and he just shouts at the person outside.

“Yo Chow, I heard someone crying, was it you?” asks the person outside. Chris took a deep breath before shouting back, “Nope, wasn’t me!” The person makes a sound, like he wants to say something, but stopped.

“Ok, just holler if you wanna hang out, I noticed there’s an email that mentioned it was the Mid-Autumn Festival?” the voice says. Chris shakes his head, before realising that they can’t see him.

His voice cracks as he replies, “Yeah, maybe later?”

Silence. It feels unbearable.

“Ok… If you say so…” says the voice outside. He hears footsteps, and then there are none.

He didn’t mean to cry, but the combination of the letter and the forgotten package’s contents pushed him to tears. He re-reads the letter again.

“Only eat a quarter of it with some hot tea. Don’t get sick. Your exams are coming up and the hockey season is just starting,” and just like that, he can hear his mama nagging in his ears.

He sniffs and lifts the seemingly simple tin from the package. But it isn’t just something just simple to Chris. It’s a tin of a traditional mooncake.

(His yeye’s favourite mooncake.)

Some of his fondest memories are the Mid-Autumn Festival celebrations at his yeye’s home. Running around his yeye’s backyard with his siblings and cousins. Kneeling on a chair for a better view so he can see yeye cut open the mooncakes. Sitting on his yeye’s lap as they sit on the steps, watching the moon while eating his mother-regulated quarter of a mooncake. And then ending the night by jumping off his lap to join his family in lighting some sparklers.

Some of the events might have switched orders or not have happened at every celebration. But something that never changed was his yeye sneaking him an extra quarter of his favourite mooncake before his family left for home.

The first time his yeye did that, he tried to refuse, saying that his mother would know and scold him. But yeye just shook his head and gestured for him to eat it quickly. Subsequently, every time his yeye offered, Chris would gobble it up quickly while grinning at yeye; contraband mooncake consumption was tastier anyways.

(While glancing down at yeye’s peaceful face in the coffin, Chris’ papa broke down and grasped onto Chris’ hand.

“You were always his favourite grandchild.”)

In his own childish opinion, the first time he felt ‘true sadness’ was when his yeye was too sick to host the annual Chow family Mid-Autumn Festival celebration. That year, only his small family of 5 could make it. While it wasn’t the loud and crowded celebrations he was used to, Chowder still had a great time, sitting around yeye’s bed and listening to yeye’s stories.

That time, instead of sneaking Chris his extra mooncake quarter, he raised it to his mouth, nudging at it. Chris panicked and looked at his mama, but she only had eyes for yeye. Seeing as his mama didn’t make a big fuss, he opened his mouth and nibbled at the mooncake while sharing a grin with yeye.

(Chris was glad that his last memory of yeye was his familiar, toothless smile, but he regrets not giving him a hug goodnight, even if it was against his mama’s wishes.)

It just happened, without a bang, without commotion. When he woke up, he saw his yeye’s door closed, something he never saw in all his time there. He tip-toed quietly to the room but was intercepted by his papa. His eyes were bloodshot but his grip was firm.

“Your yeye passed on during the night, and a doctor is doing the autopsy now.”

Chris struggled and managed to break out of his papa’s grip, only to be stopped by his mama’s strong arms around his waist. His eyes were fixated on his yeye’s room, and the doctor walked out, looked him in the eye, before looking down on the floor, shaking his head.

If Chris thought he had felt ’true sadness’ the day before, today proved him wrong. He bawled and bawled until he couldn’t bawl anymore, and all the while surrounded by his papa and mama, stroking his hair and telling him that everything will be okay.

(It’ll never be okay, it’ll never be okay, it’ll never be okay. And sometimes, he still resents them for preventing him from seeing his yeye lying in his favourite spot, one last time.)

His yeye is dead, and Chris just experienced his first heartbreak.

Chris’ yeye had been the glue that held the Chow family together and without him, there weren’t any more Chow annual Mid-Autumn Festival celebrations. The first year of someone’s passing meant no elation or celebrations, only mourning. The first year of yeye’s passing, Chris’ family visited yeye’s grave and Chris was the one who put the mooncake offerings on the grave, marking a new Chow family tradition, a more solemn one.

(Chris never ate a mooncake ever again and tried his best to forget everything about his yeye - his death anniversary, his cheeky grin, and his enthusiasm for life. He didn’t do that because he hated his yeye; he did that because he loved his yeye too much.)

His first year at Samwell marks the first year he left his parents home and while he feels homesick and anxious about not having familiar faces around him, he feels that he’s adjusted relatively well. Everyone thinks he’s a little too excitable for a person living away from home, but his fellow frogs seem to think he’s cool.

Which is why he doesn’t expect his happy facade to be in peril when his friend from the Chinese Students Association approached him while he was heading to the Haus with Nursey and Dex.

“Hey Chris, wait up,” comes a voice from behind him, and he sees a figure rushing up to him, waving his hands enthusiastically.

Chris stops in his tracks while Nursey and Dex stare at him curiously. Chris gestures to them to go ahead without him. But they both just shake their heads and hang back a little.

When Chris turns, his friend Mark gives him a huge smile and shoves a flyer in his face. “Hey, did you know about the Mid-Autumn Festival dinner? Wanna go there together tonight?”

Chris feels his face fall, and Mark’s face takes on a shocked expression. “Not like a date, even if I wanted that, but just because I don’t know that many people there and I thought it would be fun with you around,” he backtracks.

Chris just stares at him before realising it might be rude.

“Ah, it’s just that… I have a team meeting and it might go on into the night? Sorry.” he says, with a shrug. “Maybe next year?” he adds.

At this point, Mark is looking down at the ground. “Ah yeah. Maybe next year.”

Mark lets out a loud sigh and shakes his head, before throwing a smile at Chris. He then shoves something at Chris’ chest and out of instinct, he grabs onto it with both his hands.

“See ya soon, Chris and friends,” he shouts as he runs back to his own group of friends.

The item in his hands feels cold, angular and somewhat familiar. He looks down, hesitantly, and immediately feels as though the universe is playing a major practical prank on him. He sniffs and tried to hold in his tears.

Of course, it just had to be a tin of mooncake. And he must have stood in the same spot for so long because he soon feels a weight on his shoulder.

“Yo Chow, you feeling alright?” Nursey asks.

Chris knows he has to snap out of it. He doesn’t want to cry in front of his new friends. He smiles widely at Nursey, even if he did not want to do so.

“Yeah I’m doing great, let’s just get back to the Haus!”

From the look Nursey and Dex shared, he must not be convincing enough, so he just throws both arms around each of their shoulders and drags them in the direction of the Haus.

“C’mon guys, you don’t want us to be fined right?” he asks them, cheekily.

They snap out of it and break into a run, laughing all the while.

(They end up being late. Chris blames himself.)

He can’t concentrate during the entire meeting because of the weight of the tin in his hands. The team’s voice washes over him, like a comforting blanket, but not comforting enough. Because after the entire meeting, he tosses the mooncake into the trash bin. It feels wasteful but he doesn’t want those bad memories.

He nods after a job well done, and when he turns around, he comes face-to-face with Nursey. Chris freezes in his tracks as Nursey walks past him to grab something from the fridge.

As Nursey closes the fridge, he says, “If you rush, you should be able to make it for the CSA’s Mid-Autumn Festival dinner. The ballroom is on the way to my dorm and I can walk there with you.”

Chris feels his eyes widen and looks into Nursey’s eyes. His gaze is steady, kind, and Chris feels undeserving. He shakes his head.

“I’m feeling a little ill and I don’t want to just barge in. I think I’ll just go next year,” he says.

Nursey shrugs, conveying the simple message, “You’re kinda weird, but I like you, so suit yourself,” and Chris catches himself smiling.

Chris can’t let Nursey have the last word (or action) and jokes, “Stay safe on your way back and text me once you get back to the dorm.”

Nursey rolls his eyes, smirks. “Yes, Papa Chow,” he replies, sarcastically, before walking past him. But then he stops in his tracks, and out of nowhere places the back of his hand on Chris’ forehead. He then puts it on his own forehead.

“Yeah, you’re feeling kinda warm. Get some rest, k?” Nursey says, before finally making his way out of the Haus.

Chris slides down onto the floor and takes several deep breaths. In and out, and in and out, and in and out.

When he recovers, he rushes back to his dorm after quick goodbyes to his Haus mates. He jumps into the comfort of his bed and weeps into his pillow. He can’t believe he had honestly forgotten his yeye. And he cries until he falls asleep.

(He wakes up with sore eyes and a text from Nursey.

Attached is a photo of Nursey cheesing in front of the camera. “Made it back safely, Papa Chow, rest well!”

And Chris just laughs and goes off to wash his face.)

Loud and frantic knocks at his door dragged Chris out of his memories. He screeches before silencing himself with both his hands after realising that it’s late. He takes a deep breath, rubs at his eyes with his sleeves, and goes to open the door. He just hopes that his crying before wasn’t too obvious. He looks out of the open door’s crack and comes face-to-face with Nursey.

Nursey looks calm and collected-- everything Chris wants to look like at this moment. With seemingly no knowledge of Chris’ internal struggles, Nursey raises a bag in front of Chris’ face and rustles it lightly.

“Heard from some of the CSA members that lighting sparklers were some of their favourite memories from their family’s Mid-Autumn Festival celebration. And they send their regards by the way,” Nursey says, breaking the silence.

Chris just stares at Nursey, surprised. Also, he gets to see Nursey shuffle his feet, a sure sign that he’s feeling awkward. Nursey reaches out and punches Chris in the shoulder.

“C’mon, indulge your best friend for once in your life,” he whines.

Chris chuckles, swayed by his happy memories. (Not Nursey’s enthused and petulant tone.)

He nods and tells Nursey to meet him downstairs because he needs to wash his face and change into a new shirt. Nursey cracks a smile too, maybe because of the authentic chuckle he heard from Chris, and heads downstairs to wait for him.

Chris looks at his reflection in the mirror.

He looks god-awful.

He looks away from his face and splashes tons of water on his face, in the hopes that he’ll look more acceptable. He then rustles at his hair and wonders, “What the hell am I doing?”

It’s too late to back out of the offer now; it would just be rude when Nursey just wants to cheer him up. So he sucks it up.

But before leaving his bedroom, he spies the mooncake tin caught in between the creases of his duvet. Against his better judgement, he sweeps it up and shoves it into his hoodie’s pocket.

They sit on the Haus’ back steps, with the only sounds being the chirping of the cicadas and the soft crackling of the sparklers in their hands. When the first stick extinguishes, Chris immediately reaches for another one and lights it up. He doesn’t notice that he’s smiling.

“Now there’s the smile I was looking for,” he hears from beside him. Chris twists to look at Nursey, ducking his head in embarrassment.

(Nursey has always been beautiful. But he’s even more beautiful with the sparks illuminating his face.)

They sit in comfortable silence, just watching the sparklers burn to the last bit.

“Yeah, I can totally understand why people enjoy burning these things, especially on such a beautiful night when the moon just looks larger than usual,” Nursey says.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Chris sees Nursey pointing at the moon. He panics and instantly slaps at Nursey’s hand. Nursey drops his sparkler to the ground in shock, and Chris stomps on it, hoping it doesn’t burn the grass. Nursey turns to Chris, with a hurt expression, before looking away and just grabbing at another sparkler.

Honestly, how many times has Chris gone red today?

“Sorry, it’s just, my grandpa always smacked at my hands when I pointed at the moon. It’s apparently bad luck,” he mumbles.

The hurt expression on Nursey’s face disappears, and he just looks at Chris, questioningly.

Chris doesn’t know where this bravery came from as he continues, “I don’t remember why he said it was bad luck, it’s just something he taught me.”

Silence.

“I-I-I just miss him so much,” Chris stutters, before extinguishing his sparkler.

“This was a mistake, I’m going to go,” he mutters and standing up to leave.

Out of nowhere, Nursey grabs onto his arm and pulls him down, and Chris stumbles, almost landing in Nursey’s lap.

“What else did he tell you? Is there anything else I shouldn’t do? C’mon Chow, you can’t just let me get cursed like this! I’m already so clumsy, I can’t add being cursed to that list,” Nursey begs.

Chris is overwhelmed with his fondness for Nursey, and he just wants to share some of his love, his pain, and his yeye’s wisdom with someone willing to listen. So he just takes a deep breath and just rambles about how much he loved his yeye, how he celebrated Mid-Autumn Festivals with his entire family, and how much he just tried to forget everything about his yeye after his passing.

Nursey just sits there, nodding encouragingly when Chris looks up, trying to see if he is bored.

By the end of all his rambling, he realises that warm tears are streaming down his cheeks. Nursey raises his hand towards Chris’ face, trying to wipe his tears away before he stops and passes a handkerchief to Chris instead.

Chris grabs at it and wipes aggressively at his face.

“Honestly Chow, you shouldn’t have kept all this to yourself for so long. And I know you didn’t ask, but I really think your grandpa wouldn’t want you to be so sad over him or even stop celebrating your favourite thing because of him,” Nursey says.

Chris sniffs and Nursey continues, “You just need to make new memories. We’re your family now, and starting next year, we can start some new family traditions.”

Chris dabs at his eyes again, “Gosh you’re going to make me cry again Nurse!” he jokes.

They share a laugh before going back to watching their sparklers burn. When both their sparkler sticks are about to finish burning, Chris just bumps shoulders with Nursey, trying to convey his appreciation. Nursey, who just knows what he’s thinking at all times, just bumps Chris’ shoulder back.

(Oh god, he’s in love with his best friend.)

They’re tossing the remains of their sparklers in the trash when Chris thinks, "This is as good as a time as ever." He whips out the mooncake tin from his pocket.

“This was my grandpa’s favourite mooncake. Wanna share it?” he asks Nursey.

He waits as they stand in silence, his heart beating loudly, as he bears his sadness and soul to Nursey.

Nursey just nods, and they fall into a rhythm with Chris cutting the mooncake into quarters and Nursey grabbing two plates.

Chris gestures to Nursey to take the first bite. Nursey carefully grabs a quarter and puts it in his mouth. His face lights up as he chews and chews and chews.

Chris is placated by Nursey’s pleasure and tosses a quarter into his own mouth.

It tastes delicious. Delicious, but bittersweet.

Nursey must have caught him staring because he smirks and turns to look out the window at the nighttime sky.

Chris does the same thing and realises that Nursey was right. He needs to make new memories and traditions with his newfound family.

Nursey is also right about how the moon looks larger than usual, larger than life. And it also seems that there were more stars than usual. As they twinkle down on them, Chris is overwhelmed by his love for his yeye. They remind him of his yeye’s bright smile.

Chris can’t help but smile as he reaches for another quarter of the mooncake.

#omgcp #omgcpoc #chris chow #derek nurse #william poindexter #(mentioned)#implied nurseychow but please know i really wanted it sob #and ps any mistakes are my own!!!! no surprise lol #chowderweek #yunsstuff

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thejokersenigma · 7 years

Text

Jervis Tetch x OC - The white Rabbit

Hi guys, sorry my writings been so slow recently, uni is ridiculous at the moment so I'm struggling to find the time to write!

This was a request given to me by the lovely @carouselcurls :

'I was wondering if you could wrote perhaps something involving the reader being new and scared in Arkham and Jervis trying to make friends with them? Maybe something like reader has a cute stuffed rabbit? Something Jervis can find comforting to see in Arkham'

So yes, this was originally going to be a reader x tetch fic (and if you really hate this version I am more than happy to edit to make it a reader x tetch fic) but I started writing and made this character and I her history in my head and the character Jill just kind of came to life so I've left it like that - but - like I said - if you'd like me to create another version I'd be more than happy to!

I'm sorry about the long beginning - I just kind of got carried away I think! haha and I've messed around this story a lot , so I hope it still reads ok and isn't completely random! haha

Also, I've never written Jervis Tetch before, so I hope it's alright - I'm not 100% confident on writing his character so I hope it's not too bad!

I hope you like it anyway! Sorry it took me so long! If it's not what you want just let me know and I'd be happy to try again!

As always if you have any requests, feel free to let me know! I can't guarantee when I'll get round to writing them, but I definitely will!

MASTERLIST

She was sat in a spindly metal chair that rocked if she shifted her weight, even though the floor appeared perfectly flat. Before her was a basic, empty table with a chair identical to her own tucked neatly around the opposite side.

It hadn’t taken long for her to survey the room, it was empty apart from the furniture directly in front of her. The only other thing in the room with her was the small toy that sat on her lap.

Her fingers brushed absently over the white hair of the little rabbit’s head as she gazed down into the black beads of eyes, the dim light from window reflecting in the shiny material and painting little white squares like haunting pupils on the beads. She moved her fingers to the little black waistcoat he wore, pulling it back neatly over his slightly plump stomach and smoothing the lapels back into place.

She couldn’t remember when she’d gotten the toy she just knew she had him and she wouldn’t let him go. It was the only belonging that had come with her to this odd place. And only because she had thrown such a tantrum at the alternative that she had been close to hurting herself or someone else.

So the rabbit had stayed and the girl continued to take it everywhere, even into this little cell room. The stroking motion calmed the confusion within her and any fear that bred, she continued the rhythmic movement, her mind wandering and her attention now turning to the window, bored and needing to occupy herself.

There wasn’t much of a view thanks to the glass being streaked with filth. She could make out the tarmac that ran around the outside of the building which was lined with a tall chain linked fence that nearly reached her window 3 floors up from the ground. The top of the fence was lined with never ending coil of barbed wire and beyond that the land sloped away from her, down into the forest of trees that pooled around the base of the hill and out into the immediate horizon before the view was swallowed by low clouds.

She felt like she was in castle, like on from those fairy tales she knew so well. A castle that stood proudly on the highest hill, her loyal subjects forced to live below her amongst the woods and fields. She smiled to herself at this. How nice it would be.

Just then the door opened opposite her, but she made no movement to show that she had heard or saw, keeping her eyes on the landscape out of the window, lost in her own little world where she ruled an empty castle all on her own with no one to bother her and her little rabbit for company.

It was only when the person entered the room and had taken a seat opposite her -pulling their chair closer to the table so it caused the legs to scrape eerily on concrete - and then emitted a single attention seeking cough, that she decided to take notice. She stopped smoothing her toy, her hand freezing between the white ears. She didn’t move immediately, instead she waited a few moments before she slowly turned her head back to her visitor - not unlike the dolls her brother had forced her to watch in those scary movies when she was little.

The woman cleared here throat again and the girl was not amused in the slightest by the interruption to her fantasy and she glared at the woman reproachfully, studying her as she held tightly to the hand of the small rabbit sat on her lap, hidden away under the table and not in sight of the intruder.

The woman was pale and skinny, her eyes were shrunken into her skull and there were rings under her eyes like she hadn’t slept in days. The rest of her appearance followed this theme, she looked unkempt, her hair lank and unwashed, her skin dry and a scarce layer of makeup which did nothing but highlight how gaunt she looked.

She sat very upright in the chair, her hands folded neatly in her lap. She looked slightly alarm by the hatred in the girl’s eyes, shortly followed by confusion and then a look of sorrow.

The woman might have looked confused, but unlike the young pale, irritated girl across from her, the woman knew why the girl was here.

Neither of them said anything, both staring at the other. The girl showed no change in posture or emotion, whilst the woman fiddled with her fingers, her eyes becoming shiny and watery.

Eventually the silence became too much for the tired woman. “Why’d you do it, Jill?” She croaked. The girl said nothing, continuing her blank stare. “Why?” The woman whimpered pitifully before breaking down into tears, those few words alone being too much for her in the given the circumstances.

The girl gave no reaction to the emotions of the woman, her tears didn’t move her in the slightest, and her question only puzzled her. What did she mean, what had Jill done? What had Jill done? She didn’t know. She wasn’t sure she cared. But the woman intrigued her slightly. The girl thought she’d seen her before. She seemed familiar. Had she been a character from a story? It wouldn’t be the first time that they showed up and chatted to her like long lost friends. They weren’t usually this sad though.

Maybe she was a memory. The girl didn’t have many. Most were fuzzy and blurred like she was looking at them through eyes of tears.

The woman was struggling to get a hold of herself. She put her face in her hands as she sobbed. “I-I’m sor-rry! I ca-can’t do-oo this-s!” She sniffed before pushing herself to her feet and running out the room the way she came.

Still the girl barely moved, not even when the door slammed shut, instead she just returned her gaze to window and resumed petting the small rabbit with the waistcoat.

The girl didn’t have to wait long until the next interruption. It was a man this time. He didn’t look to be in such a state as the woman before him had been. He wore a suit over a slightly crumpled shirt, his hair was neatly combed back, but there were familiar bags under his eyes that suggested a lack of a goodnights sleep again.

She watched him swing the door to the little room open with a almost dramatic flare, his chest puffed out and looking as though every muscle in his body was clenched. He strode into the room and promptly sat down in the seat across from her, his eyes hard and staring, his back painfully straight, every sense of formality about him. She just stared back at him like she had at the woman. Again, he seemed familiar. A memory of unclear origin or context.

There was another silence as each of them sized each other up.

“Jill?” He eventually asked. He seemed to want to sound stern, but there was an underlying weakness or quiver in his voice. She didn’t say anything. Was he talking to her? Who was Jill? She remembered Jill, from the nursery rhyme – Jack and Jill. Jack. She knew a Jack. Who was he? Did that make her Jill? Why was she Jill?

“Jill?” The man questioned her again as though seeing she wasn’t present anymore and attempting to drag her attention back. Her eyes were on the man, but she did not see him. She hummed the nursey rhyme, the words bouncing along in her mind.

Jack and Jill went up the hill To fetch a pail of water Jack fell down and broke his crown, And Jill came tumbling after.

“Jill?!” The man demanded, “For god’s sake Jill!” He cried angrily, slamming his fists on the table in front of him. The movement frightened her, but she felt the comforting texture of the toy under her finger tips and she didn’t jump, her eyes darting to his fist now clenched tightly and pressed into the table surface. He snatched his fist back, as though her hard stare burnt his skin.

She continued to hum the rest of the tune, hating to leave it unfinished, though she did it slower now, more carefully:

Up Jack got and home did trot,

As fast as he could caper;

And went to bed and bound his head

With vinegar and brown paper.

The man shoved himself back from the table, shoving the chair backwards so it skidded across the floor. “How can you have the audacity to sing that?!” He demanded harshly, his teeth clenched in his fury, The girl kept going, taking no notice of the fuming man. He tried to get a hold of his temper, but was struggling. “I promised.” The man muttered to himself, “Promised her I’d stay in control.”

Control. She knew that word well. She looked up at him with intrigue, moving her handcuffed wrists from her lap to the table top, bringing the little toy rabbit with her. She set the toy on its feet on the table, and she noticed the man’s eyes fall on the little creature, his gaze softening momentarily and she thought it was a look of recognition, that he was remembering a happier memory. She watched the patiently, maintaining her silence, but waiting for the man to say more things that interested her. She liked him more than the woman.

He took a deep breath, blinking a few times and grabbed the chair he had shoved across the room. He pushed it back under the table, refusing to return to the seat, instead placing his hands on the back of the chair and gripping tightly, trying to return to his previous, calm and controlled state he’d been in when he entered the room. He lifted a hand and anxiously pulled at his already straight jacket, wiping off invisible lint. He sniffed, pulling himself up straight and the girl rather thought he was doing his best impression of having a large stick rammed up his backside.

“Jill.” He began, his head held high and he seemed to be in physical pain to look at her. “Do you know what you have done to us?” The girl said nothing. She wasn’t listening to his words, only his voice. She knew that voice, it brought strong memories back to her of hop scotch, a dolls house and a deep voice reading stories to her. She smiled serenely to herself.

“AND NOW YOU’RE SMILING?!” Demanded the man furiously, his grip on the chair becoming so tight his knuckles were white. His chest heaved with his anger and she wouldn’t have been surprised of his teeth snapped under the pressure of his jaw. “That’s it! I can’t do this!” He cried before he then and spun around and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him and making the chair in front of her shake slightly with the vibrations from the floor.

Her eyes went back to her rabbit as she smoothed out a slight ruck in his jacket, no care in the world.

No other people came to sit before her and she was soon escorted back to her room, her little toy in hand. She soon found herself back in her usual position on her bed, her rabbit sat before her on the thin sheet.

It was probably early afternoon in late summer, but in her dark, chilly and damp room, you would never have known. She stared at the door for a bit, stared at the grubby wall for even longer, and then eventually settled on staring out the tiny window on the wall opposite the door. Not that she could see anything but the overcast sky.

It was the first visit she had since she’d been here. She wasn’t sure how long it had been, but I can tell you it was at least 2 weeks. 2 weeks of silence before her first visitor. 2 weeks of isolation with nothing but her dank room and tiny rabbit.

But she didn’t know the people that had visited either. But then, she wasn’t sure she knew anyone. In her memories there were only vague shifting shadows, no clear faces. There were voices, like that man’s voice, but she didn’t know who he was. She had a brother. She knew that. She couldn’t remember anything about him or what he looked like, but she remembered playing dolls with a brother.

But that was it. She only had childhood memories. After the age of 10 she remembered nothing.

She stayed in that cell, without any other visits for another month. Only then did the Arkham staff begin to wonder if isolation was no longer needed for this patient. During the month and a half she’d been at the asylum, the young woman had shown no sign of being the terror that she was reported to be. Insane she was definitely – the girl did nothing but sit cross legged on her bed or the floor and talk to imaginary friends or sit in silence and stroke that odd little rabbit of hers – but she seemed to pose no danger. They thought it was time to let her in with the rest of the general inmates – monitored closely of course.

So that’s how the girl - who had eventually decided her name was Jill - found herself sat cross legged on a different filthy floor, now surrounded by people in matching black and white striped uniforms.

Jill, however, didn’t feel any less alone. She ignored everyone in the large common-room-like space and – in turn - most of them did the same, soon learning quickly from her uninviting blank stare that she turned on them when they tried to drag her into their own world of insanity and delusion.

It hadn’t always been this way. She could remember loving people before, seeking them out to play with – after all, a game is always better if not everyone you’re playing with is imaginary - but, she’d soon learnt (though she couldn’t remember how) that people were cruel creatures who did not deserve to play and who even poisoned her imaginary playmates into occasionally saying cruel things and laughing at her.

But It wasn’t funny. It was mean. And now she resented anyone that tried to interrupt her games.

So, when a rather tall, thin man sat cross legged opposite her she was not pleased. She had her little rabbit sat on her knee, watching her as she stared at the filthy floor laminate floor, playing. She imagined the cracks were cavasses in a vast, barren valley, the unidentifiable smudges on the floor were pits and lagoons of death and doom, all combing to form a perilous journey for her imagination to get around with the aid of her little rabbit sidekick. However, when the man sat across from her his shadow fell over her adventure, like a sudden eclipse or somebody suddenly deciding it was bedtime and switching off all the lights.

She frowned in annoyance at the floor. Game ruiner, she sulked, unable to be sure if she was now going to step unwittingly right into a canyon that split the floor. She crushed her lips together in a pout, willing the man to release she was ignoring him and just go away. But he didn’t.

“Interesting game, my dear.” He commented, his voice quite high and almost sing-song like, she thought he’d make a good bard in one of her adventures. She could use it if he’d just get lost and let her go back to her game. If he didn’t the bard might take his own trip into a lagoon.

“Canyons I see, and dark pits too, a dangerous adventure for anyone but you.” The man rhymed down at her. She glanced up at him in surprise. No one understood her games. Half the time they didn’t know she was playing them. She couldn’t help the smile that appeared on her face, she liked rhymes, there was something fun and carefree to them – plus they were funny a lot of the time. She remembered her brother had a book of poems and rhymes, she remembered stealing it once when he refused to read it to her.

“Your head is down, your heart follows suit, but your interest, I find, is far from mute.” She grinned again. Funny. Clever. She sat up properly now, straightening her back and her muscles protesting from where she had been bent over so long. She instinctively reached for her rabbit and pulled him into her lap, now looking like a school girl disciplined into perfection.

She finally allowed herself to look properly at the man, who nodded his head in greeting, “Jervis Tetch. Pleasure to meet you.” He grinned a white toothy smile. She took him in with interest. He wore the usual striped overalls of the asylum, though they hung quite baggily on his slender body. He too, had his hands in his lap, his bony fingers interlaced between each other as he gripped his hands together and leant forward, his posture the complete opposite of the young girl. Her eyes travelled to his face, noticing how his hair just reached his shoulders, falling in unruly waves and framing his sharp jaw line. Her eyes then move to the small amount of facial hair on his chin and upper lip – slightly unkept thanks to the lack of facilities at the asylum - and then up to his eyes which looked soft as he watched her back, they were almost bright – like he’d just found something new and interesting. Finally, her eyes focused on the unusual object perched on his head that had been calling at her attention. A top hat. But not a normal top hat. It was top hat made completely of newspaper. Her eyes widen in wonder and delight at it.

“I like your hat.” She murmured staring at it, not recognising her voice which was scratchy from lack of use.

“Why, thank you my dear!” He said, touching the brim to her in an archaic gentlemanly gesture, he sounded genuinely touched by the compliment. “A head is a lonely and empty place without a hat.” He commented, “Though few people in this place seem to appreciate that.” He muttered darkly, shoot a glance out at the room, before realising himself again and grinning broadly at her, no sign of the resentment that had been in his eyes a moment ago. “I like your little friend.” He beamed, nodding at the little rabbit gripped tightly between her hands.

Her eyes dropped to the rabbit in question. She gave a small sad smile at his comment.

“Does he have a name?” He asked kindly.

She shook her head. “I’ve never found the right one.” She murmured sadly. She didn’t usually talk to anyone but herself, her rabbit and her invisible friends, but she liked this man. Something about him made her trust him. She dropped her head, feeling tears as bad things rushed into her mind.

The thought of having a person as a friend scared her. She knew people hurt. She couldn’t make head or tail of the thoughts or memories that whirled in her mind. They snapped and snarled at her, too blurry and fragmented to make any sense, but she knew something bad had happened. She knew people didn’t like her and she wasn’t sure why. Her vision was blurring and a tear dropped onto her lap, darkening the material of her uniform where it fell and absorbed into the stripes.

She felt fingers, gentle on her chin, and slight pressure which she didn’t fight, letting them lift her head up, though she kept her eyes down, embarrassed by her tears. Big girls didn’t cry, she scolded herself the way she remembered scolding her doll Lucy when she had cried during her arm surgery.

“Oh, dear child!” The man exclaimed in distress at her tears and she thought he was going to tell her off for crying. “Waste no water on these cursed halls,” his was voice bitter, but she sensed it was at the ‘cursed halls’ not at her. He dropped his hand from her face, “that is what they thrive off – it feeds the monsters in the walls.” She sneaked a peek up at him to see if he was lying to her, making fun of her like the bullies before him, but he was looking away, staring off into the centre of the room and his face was deadly serious.

Suddenly he clapped his hands together in glee, a grin on his face. “Let’s have a tea party!”

“What?” She sniffed, confused by his outburst.

“A tea party, my dear.” He repeated, handing her a handkerchief he seemed to have just produced from thin air. She took it from him warily and wiped at her eyes. “Of course, your friend is invited too, I’ll lay the table for four!”

“Four?” She asked, confused, “but there’s only 3 of us.” She mumbled from behind the tissue.

He grinned at her, reached for his hat and pulled it off his head to reveal a little rabbit, the same size as hers, made of newspaper - much like his hat - perched on his brown curls. He gave her a wink and she couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face.

Jarvis and the girl stuck together after that. It took a few more visits to the recreational room until the girl actively sought him out, but he always found her anyway. He seemed to understand her better than anyone else in Arkham, and in turn she seemed to understand him where others called him ‘odd’ or ‘creepy’. The girl couldn’t see that. She would call him a brother, but he fitted nothing of the memories she had of a boy she thought she was related to. Those were mean, ugly memories, a precursor to the bullies that picked on her later in life.

But maybe the boy in her memories wasn’t her brother. Brothers were supposed to be nice, kind and supportive after all. That’s what she thought they were supposed to be anyway. So that boy couldn’t have been it. And Jervis could be. She smiled. Yes. Jervis could be her brother.

And act like a brother he did. He watched out for her, even when she didn’t realise it.

After all, her wasn’t the only person in the asylum that took an interest in the simple, pure child. There were a few people that didn’t respect her privacy – they were insane so none of the staff could blame for not respecting other people and didn’t see it as such a problem, after all it happened too much for them to care anymore. There were a few people that weren’t scared of her blank stare, instead they saw a weak, naïve girl with a pretty baby face. Worst of all they saw her long straight hair that always hung around her. It was all too tempting for an insane inmate to want to mess and pull at those strands – and when she screamed and thrashed out at them it only made it more entertaining for them.

When Jervis saw this happen, upon just arriving in the communal area from his cell, he stepped in immediately. Jill’s assailant had been a large burly man with the brain power of a four-year-old and he currently had his large hand entangled in the girl’s hair and looked close to shaking the life out of her.

Jervis’ eyes burned with a hot, silent anger and he held his head high and importantly as he stepped up to the large man. “Sir,” He began forcefully, “I strongly suggest you release this young lady.” He said with a cold politeness. The large caveman stopped his shaking and turned towards Jervis where he stood in his newspaper top hat and striped overalls, his eyes dark under his brows. The large man’s jaw was slack in confusion at Jarvis’s request and didn’t say or do anything in response.

The anger built within Jervis. “A brute you are, and angel is she, release her hair or you’ll anger me.” Snapped Jervis, trying to keep his cool, though every muscle in his body was tense. The man continued to look at him gormlessly, not comprehending the rhyme. Jervis just tried to stare him down.

After finding no further entertainment in the odd man with the fun hat, the man returned his attention to the pretty girl at the end of his fist who winced and shrieked in agony as he yanked at the strands of hair between his fingers.

Something snapped in Jervis and he grabbed for the nearest thing he could, finding a thin spindly chair, seizing it and driving it straight into the back of the larger man. The force smashed the chair into pieces, and it caused the man to stumble slightly, but he didn’t release the girl and it seemed to have caused no lasting damage to the brute, unlike what Jervis had hoped.

The man looked around at what had caused the slight bruise to his side, a look of sadness and confusion on his face, his innocent mind not comprehending the pain he was causing the girl next to him or what he could possibly be doing wrong. When he spotted Jervis again he looked hurt for a moment before his confusion became anger and he stepped dangerously toward Jervis, raising his empty fist.

But just as Jervis began to fear for his own life, the man’s eyes caught on something – the paper hat that had once sat astride Jervis’s head now lay on the floor where it had been knocked off as Jervis had swung the chair.

Immediately the man stumbled towards the hat instead, seeking a new treasure, and dragging the helpless, squealing girl along with him. Jervis noticed what was happening and darted across, swiping the hat off the floor before the man could reach it. There seemed a delayed response in the large man’s eyes who had just seen the hat disappear. He had to look at Jervis and the hat in his hand before he could comprehend that the tall, slim man had taken it from under him.

The giant looked hurt again, but soon the anger was back – his prize had been snatched. But Jervis had seen the want in the man’s eyes and his quick mind had already leapt to an idea. He held out his hand in a stop gesture to the large man who looked at the hand gormlessly - confused. “A gift, for you,” He said, offering his hat, “but,” he added withdrawing the hat from reach when the large man went for it, “in return – a twist – you hand over the girl in your fist.”

The man looked dumbfounded again, clearly finding pleasure in the rhyme, but not understanding the words within them. That was until Jervis made a gesture for the girl and pushed the hat towards him. Something clicked in the brute’s mind and the man immediately released the girl and lurched forward, seizing the hat before Jervis could react.

The hat crumpled under the man’s powerful and clumsy fists and Jervis winced as his beautiful creation – and only hat - was carelessly torn and mangled under the giant’s careless grip. But the larger man didn’t seem to care at the destruction he was doing to his paper treasure, just pleased to have it as his possession, and began wandering off with a big grin on his face as he looked at his new toy.

Jervis turned back to the girl, trying not to think of the fate of his hat. She was rubbing her scalp where the hairs had been yanked the worst and she looked on in despair as her assailant wandered away with the beautiful paper creation. “But Jervis! Your hat! She exclaimed, tears watering her eyes. “I’m so sorry!” She cried, her voice choking as she began to sob. “Yo-you sh-shou-shouldn’t hav-have done th-that! Yo-your po-poor ha-hat!” She choked out, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Nonsense, my dear, it was for a good cause.” He murmured, stepping over to stroke down some of the hair that still stuck out from where it had been grabbed. He knew he not to overcrowd when she felt vulnerable – it made her panic and bolt - like a fawn.

“I’m not worth it.” She mumbled, looking at the floor and trying to ignore the comfort she felt from his gentle stroking of her hair, feeling like she didn’t deserve his sacrifice. She knew how much he cherished his headwear.

“You most certainly are.” He corrected her sternly, though there was no anger in the voice, “Besides, my dear,” he added, “That one will last two more seconds with that brute. I can just make another one.”

He bent down to reach for something on the floor, and when he straightened she saw her little rabbit in his hand from where she’d dropped it as she been grabbed. Jervis gentle smoothed out the little waist coat and brushed the dirt from the white fur. “I always like seeing him.” Jervis admitted, examining the rabbit to ensure he was pristine, “It is nice to see something that reminds me the world isn’t all so bad.” He smiled looking up at her from under his dark eyelashes and she wasn’t sure he was talking about her rabbit anymore. “I might just make him a little hat as well.” He said, steering the conversation on as though nothing had happened, his gaze returning back to the toy in his hand before he bowed dramatically before Jill and offered the little rabbit back. She took it, a genuine smile spreading across her face.

Yes. Jervis could be her brother.

Tags: @carouselcurls

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wetwellie · 7 years

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Pacific Rim AU where Bitty is the cook who holds the morale of the entire population of the shatterdome on his shoulders.

Initially he had trained to be a pilot, but flunked out due to a lack of drift compatible partners, and instructors saying they’d fear he’d chase the RABBIT while drifted with someone in a Jaeger and endanger himself and those around him. Bad Bob and Alicia Zimmermann bounced between the shatterdomes from Seattle to Anchorage making a name for themselves as THE team that gives any kaiju an ass-whooping. That is, until they quietly retired a few years back. Publicly, the reason is due to a training exercise going wrong and injuring them. The true reason has to do with the radiation poisoning caused by the Alpha I’s finally getting to them. Almost immediately after their retirement, their son Jack rose to take their place with his Drift Partner: Kent Parson. They were the golden boys until a very, very public failure while fighting a Kaiju off the coast of Vancouver. A combination of the mental strain of the PONS unit while also abusing his medication proved catastrophic. They barely made it out alive. Jack was Grounded and works as a LOCCENT operator. Kent was reassigned to a Shatterdome in Panama City.

I wonder who is gonna be Jack’s new partner??? I wonder??? No one else is drift compatible with him except this dude who makes really good pie come out of no where??? Where does he get those kinds of ingredients in Alaska????

It is a mystery

Anyways if you wanna know about where all the other characters fall in this AU...

Lardo is J-Tech Chief and LOCCENT operators. She oversees all operations of Rangers and Jaegers. She gets to be a living legend among the locals of every town she’s stationed in. (”One time Lardo and I went to a pub in Hong Kong during our shore leave. It ended with her taking me to get my eyebrow pierced and then she belched for three minutes in my face. It was awesome”) Johnson is a custodian, but everyone knows him because he seems to be more accurate in predicting Kaiju emergences than the War Clock. It annoys the scientists to no end. Ransom works on the Med Team. He specializes in keeping the Rangers in tip top, fighting condition. It was a great job when he was a part of a team, and the Jaegers were a can of Kaiju Whoopass. But after a wave of budget cuts, staff cuts, no new equipment, and Kaiju getting stronger, his job is getting a lot harder. In his spare time he could be found -- ha ha what spare time? You can find him on his lunch break curled under his desk in the fetal position.

Holster is the nice Ranger who runs a Jaeger with his older sister. He has every episode of Golden Girls on VHS hidden under his bunk with an absolutely ancient old TV with a VHS player built into it. According to a certain Medic named Justin Oluransi he makes the best smoothies, hot chocolate, and cocktails. No one else, however, can verify that. Since Ransom is the only one he makes them for. His sister teases him to no end. Shitty is the liason between the PDCC and any “political fucksticks” that try to shut it down. He graduated Harvard about 5 years after K-Day, so he knew that negotiating for the PDCC is what he wanted to do. But god can he rant about any of the social justice issues surrounding the breach. From the gentrification and pricing out of Middle America (Not only are the poor forced to stay in the safe zones, those that lived in those flyover states are being priced out of the place they lived for centuries! Not to mention how it’s fucking up the agriculture), to THE WALL( “A wall isn’t gonna stop these giant lizard dicks from busting in and taking what they want”).

The only time he is seen wearing clothing is with the Marshal when he has video calls with Leaders of the Free World, and when he negotiate with certain...notso wholesome folk over obtaining kaiju specimens not so legally. He only wears a full suit for the latter.

Chowder and Farmer are a Jaeger duo born out of loss. Both were both witnessed Trespasser attack California firsthand. They both lost everyone close to them. Caitlin has a cousin she visits in Nevada as much as she can, though. The cousin was just outside of Oakland when the nukes came, and they were exposed to a lot of radiation.

They met each other in a makeshift refugee camp outside of Yosemite, and they gravitated toward each other in their grieving. As soon as they were old enough, they enrolled in the Jaeger Program. Upon graduation and assignment to a nifty little Mark III, they were married in a swift but heartfelt ceremony.

Dex is a officer in J-Tech in charge of keeping Chowder and Farmer’s Jaeger in fighting condition. It is a perfect combination of his programming skills and his striking ability to fix any machine placed in front of him. Well, except for the dryer in the laundry room. There’s only one and it can’t dry even one sock. He’s dedicated as much time as he could, but it just won’t work. Everyone is forced to dry their clothes on the roof.

Dex’s paths cross with a certain drivesuit technician named Derek Nurse constantly, much to his chagrin. The first time that they meet is during Dex’s offtime. He got a call from the dome’s radio station asking to tinker with some malfunctioning sound equipment. It ends with a shouting match between the two having to be broken up by none other than Lardo. Dex learns that he shouldn’t make enemies with the man who is second to only Bitty in boosting morale. It’s a sucky world without social media, and radio is the only way to really keep up with petty gossip. For the next couple of days, Radio LOCCENT hosted a Roast of William Poindexter.

After that, they kept bumping into each other in the worst places: parties of mutual friends (Chowder), shore leaves into town with mutual friends (Chowder), the laundry room where Dex passive aggressively dumps out Nursey’s clothes the second that they’re done. (”There are 13 other empty washers what the HECK Poindexter?”) And you can bet your bottom dollar that Nursey would talk about it during every break between songs. They only called a truce when the burden got too great to bear alone. No one except for LOCCENT could really do anything after the Jaeger was sent out. The only thing to do was listen to the reports being broadcast over the intercom. It’s been 2 hours since deployment and Dex is working on that damn dryer when he hears announcements that the Sharkpulse had gone dark. Last reports were that there was massive damage to Jaeger and, if the other Jaeger sent out 35 minutes later doesn’t arrive in time, is likely to be completely destroyed. Nursey finds Dex in the laundry room beating the absolute shit out of the dryer. He grabs him and tries to comfort him the best they could. Sharkpulse is still dark, the Kaiju is inching closer to the miracle mile. Dex lets himself, if only for a moment, collapse in Nursey’s arms. And then the moment is over, and they both wish each other luck and make each other useful. When the Kaiju is killed and the remains of the Sharkpulse is recovered, they both stop holding the breath neither of them knew that they were holding. Somehow, both of them were alive. They kept working. The animosity between them was gone and replaced with what could be called amicable tolerance with each other. After the eventual shutdown of Anchorage, they both volunteered to transfer to Hong Kong. There they would be forced to share a tiny room.

ANYWAYS. WHO ELSE IS THERE?

Until K-Day, Whiskey was satisfied with studying economics and going into a cushy Wall Street job. Seeing tens of thousands killed in California by a giant alien changes things. Maybe he should join the PDCC after graduating college. And then they hit Manila. After that, Whiskey applied himself to the very fullest. He graduated high school a year early, and enlisted. He worked in Panama City as a drivesuit technician. For a couple years, he just kept his head down and focused on the work at hand. He made friends with the Rangers he met, and even was invited to spar with a couple of them. After quickly defeating many of them, he was recommended to join the Jaeger program. There, he met his inquisitive partner in crime, life, the Jaeger, etc: Anthony “Tango” Tangredi. He absolutely loves drifting. It’s like every question that Tango never even considered asking gets answered in a split second. Unfortunately for the scientists, Tango cannot drift with them. He has to ask all the questions the old fashioned way. Most of the time, they are happy to explain what they are doing, but not when they are running on approximately 15 minutes of sleep that they got maybe 3 (??) days ago. Foxtrot is the Marshal of the Shatterdome in Anchorage. She’s one of the youngest, but still as capable as ever. People will follow her to the ends of the earth.

Tater is was a Jaeger pilot in Vladivostok until his partner was killed in combat. It really shook him. He used his status to build affordable housing for the poor inland, so that they could be safe. After that, he spends all of his savings on a one way ticket to the Hong Kong Shatterdome to help finish this once and for all in any way possible.

#omgcp #check please #au #pacific rim au #bruh i really like pacific rim you don't even know #and this will be a fic someday but if you guys want something...to tangibly see #yeah here you go #and its kinda more of a crossover because all the kaiju are canon?#and some characters?#god why can't things write themselves???#like it just...needs a plot #which i have #but still #there's a lot of worldbuilding i'd have to explain #drug abuse cw

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hoenursey · 7 years

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Hi, can I ask the I guess story of Othello real quick even just a summary if you don't want to go in depth because I was excited about hearing about it, but then I was also really thrown off seeing Othello being a slave and all and now I'm just kinda confused?? Because Nursey in silk with a choking kink DOES sound amazing but I guess I'm just confused af now

lmao, okay, so. originally i was writing just an au of nursey and dex playing desdemona and othello, respectively. however, othello’ character background is that he was a former slave and a moorsman, or a person from the moor, and moorsmen are black people.

the beginning of othello starts with roderigo and iago outside of the house of brabantion, desdemona’s father. roderigo is jealous of othello because he’s in love with desdemona and she pretty much turned everyone down and she’s like dainty and pretty and hot as fuck, like the most beautiful fair girl ever and shit, but she’s falling in love with othello. also i’m pretty sure roderigo saw her and othello chilling or w/e. so basically, in the middle of the fuckening night, roderigo and iago start yelling to brabantion to come outside and talk to them. brabantion is generally a pretty cool dad and he’s like “bitch she doesn’t like u stop getting drunk and coming to my house my daughter turned ur ass down already”, rod and iago proceed to say a bunch of racist shit and say “check her bed she’s out being a slut with a black dude lol” to which dadbra says “she would never she’s so sweet and she’s also turned down literally everyone who’s ever wanted to date her” but desi, my girl, is actually gone from her bed, so dadbra is like “you’re right!!! i can’t believe my daughter is fucking around before marriage in the middle of the night!!! i trusted her!!! time to go chase after othello, who i welcomed into my house, with a bunch of pitchforks” which they do. they show up to othello’s crib like “what’s up here’s our accusations time to throw you in jail for fucking my daughter because if she turned down all the hot dudes in the entire city she’s definitely not gonna fuck a black dude out of wedlock unless there was some type of witchcraft involved” to and othello is like “uhh okay cool i’m dealing with the house of senators rn so like. can this wait a second my dudes” and they’re like “perfect! we’re gonna show them what a terrible black dude you are!”

they go in front of the senators and they’re like “what’s the sitch why is this angry mob here my dude” dadbra is like “uh he fucked my daughter, i’m sending him to jail for witchcraft or kidnapping bc there’s literally no other way she’d fuck a black dude when she doesn’t even like these hot white dudes”

othello’s like “uh actually i married her”

everyone: “what”

and he kind of explains like “buddy yeah i’m not super good with words so i’m not gonna bs you. i married your daughter. no kidnapping, drugging, or witchcraft. she fell in love with me and so now we’re married. she’s at the inn down the street also so like i’m def not fucking her since we’re at my house and she’s at a hotel”

everyone except dadbra is like “oh okay that sounds reasonable” but dadbra is like “you’re telling me that my good white upper class daughter fell in love with a black dude who she’d be afraid to look at? i’m calling bullshit it’s clearly witchcraft”

the duke p much is like “uh… but where’s the receipts tho i don’t see any witchcraft” and the senators are like “go get desdemona so we can confirm this also othello bro keep talking”

othello’s like “yeah i was a warrior and i travelled a lot and dadbra used to like me a lot so he invited me over to hear my stories about the wars and how i fought and battles and being on ships. i told him my entire life story from when i was a kid all the way until now, how i was captured and sold as a slave, how i bought my own freedom and just all types of cool shit and then when she did her chores around the house for dadbra she would come around as soon as she finished and ask me more and ask me to tell her more stories” essentially desi thinks he’s hot and a tragic hero and she’s like “everything that happened to you sucks but you’ve also got some sick ass stories so maybe that makes it a little better? idk sorry all this bad shit happened to you but you’re rly interesting to talk to. if any friends had any stories like yours i’d probably fall in love with them”

othello’s like “yeah uh i’m not that smart and i’m more of a military dude than an intellectual but i know a fucking hint when i see one”

he says the sweetest thing too like “she loved me for the horrors i had been through and that i had the strength to come out on top, and i loved her for feeling so strongly about me and having passion. here comes my wife now and she’ll tell you the exact same story”

desi comes in and is like “yeah dad sorry i shouldn’t have like run out in the middle of the night to get married but i really do love him promise no messing around”

and this is part of the reason i think brabantion is kinda cool bc he’s not actually a racist he just said some shit without rly thinking and let the things that he’s used to hearing influence him and he’s like “oh, well, you’re in love. that’s fine then sorry i didn’t realize. i’m super glad you’re my only daughter because after this whole disaster, if you’d had any younger sisters i know i would have overreacted and acted like a prison warden to them and women don’t deserve that. i’m still a little upset abt u sneaking out in the middle of the night but like blessings on your marriage i guess.

so that’s like…. act one

later on some fuckery happens, iago decides to be a dick, because they’re all together for some reason that i don’t feel like saying idk something abt the turks and also because he’s a miserable worm

cassio is one of their friends who’s also there and he’s, like, some type of foreign i think (probably spanish or italian) and has respect for women and his wife (who’s not there) but bc he’s spanish or italian (probably italian as verona is mentioned and shakespeare REALLY has a thing abt italy??? idk he’s a pasta fucker) or whatever he does the thing where he kisses people on the cheek and because it’s the elizabethan era, he kisses women’s hands, and earlier he had like politely greeted desdemona and iago’s wife and called them beautiful and smart and shit and called iago out on being a misogynistic piece of shit. iago like actively hates his wife and also literally anyone else’s happiness so he’s like i’m gonna fuck up cassio’s life and i’m gonna fuck up othello and desi’s and also he’s a jealous racist misogynistic asshole wants to fuck up othello and desdemona’s (healthy, loving, trusting, equal) relationship so he’s like

"hey othello. ur wife’s a slut. she’s fucking cassio behind ur back lol”

and othello, who thinks his wife is the shit, is like *daveed diggs voice* “whaaaaat”

iago: “yeah totes she’s a massive hoe”

and othello is like “nah not my wife. maybe someone else’s wife, but not mine”

and iago is like “no bro im serious. we’re sleeping in the same bed (i don’t know why i mean his fucking wife is there isn’t she) he’s been having like wet dreams about her and saying ‘damn i wish u weren’t with that black dude’ and he’s been rolling over in his sleep and dry humping me whilst moaning ur wife’s name” (honestly iago the reason you don’t like women is because you’re gay and jealous calm down)

(literally that was so extra i can’t believe how overwhelmingly bisexual shakespeare was that he needed to slide that gay ass shit in there)

anyways othello’s like “okay so that’s a little weird but that doesn’t mean she did anything. maybe cassio just wants to bang my wife. that’s understandable, as id also like to bang my wife” (they’re super into PDA they’re so in love)

iago: fair. also iago: i mean there’s no way to prove it but like… maybe your wife gave him something. like, idk, does she have a hand embroidered handkerchief maybe? just a thought just a thought lolothello: ya i gave that to her as like a courtship gift she never goes anywhere without it bc she loves me so muchiago: yeah well uh i cassio wiping his beard with it so they’re definitely fuckingothello, my dumb son: NO!!! THAT DEFINITELY MEANS THEYRE FUCKING IF MY WIFE GAVE AN ITEM OF GREAT SENTIMENTAL AND PERSONAL SIGNIFICANCE TO HIM!!! MY ABSOLUTELY TOTALLY FAITHFUL AND COMPLETELY INNOCENT UP UNTIL THIS POINT WIFE!!!!

so he’s like “uh i have to kill her i guess now :(((((((”

problem is he’s still fucking in love with her like he literally loves her so much and can’t even bear to stab her like a normal person would do if they’re trying to kill their wife, so what does he do? he fucking kisses her awake to explain what he’s doing and why he’s doing it and then gently smothers her to death

so gently, in fact, that she doesn’t actually die, just passes out

a servant walks in and is like “boi what the FUCK”

othello: uh

it’s desi’s handmaiden lmao and he’s like “i had to she’s fucking other men” to which she says “no she’s not you idiot” and then desdemona wakes up to say something dramatic and then properly dies

except no she doesn’t bc othello literally is just really really fucking in love with his wife so he’s an incredibly ineffective murderer despite literally having been in the military for almost all of his life but that’s all i’m explaining bc my hands are tired and i answered this all on mobile plus that’s all you need to know for my story

#othello #aus #anonyomous #fic talk #asks

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omgpourquoi · 6 years

Text

Can’t Be Happening: The Playlist Fics

So… I’m catching up on my past requests, and like 2 years ago someone suggested a song from an artist who I no longer support because it has become apparent that this artist is a rapist and sexual abuser. However, I had already written most of this story before I knew this. I’m sure you can probably tell what song this is, but I’ve had this artist deleted from my playlists for so long that I hope the other half I’ve written more recently takes more inspiration from Ngozi and our Bois™ as characters rather than the music. The person who suggested this was anonymous so there’s no way to know, but I’m sure they also aren’t about this artist anymore. Anyway, I just want to clarify all that before posting!

Song: N/A

Nursey dunked his head under the bubbles, relaxing back into the heat of the bath water.

There had been times in his life where he felt like he’d screwed up. Missing an important shot, yelling at his mom, leading someone on, turning in a writing assignment he’d half-assed….

But none of it topped this.

The rushing sound of the water filled Nursey’s ears as his mind brought him back the moment.

Nursey threw his practice bag over his shoulder, pushing out of the locker room with more force than necessary. But he clung to his chill. It would take a lot more than a hockey fight with Dex for him to give that up. Except. Except. Except Dex always seemed to be an exception.

The door slammed open behind him.

They were here later than the others, running drills and blaming each other for their screwed up plays. It was normal. Except. Except. Except, it wasn’t. They were arguing like they used to, snide comments full of low blows and hard hits. He couldn’t remember when they stopped pulling punches this practice, somewhere between the suicides and the back and forth puck drills. And Nursey was hurt and confused and he was drowning. But he still had his cool exterior.

He turned back towards the door, eyebrow raised, expecting to find his defense partner fuming. What he found instead was William Poindexter, eyes wide and vulnerable, looking as hurt and confused as he felt.

“What happened back there, Nurse?” he sounded worse than he looked and Nursey felt weary to his bones. He had been so tired of being careful about everything with them. About making sure he didn’t let anything slip. About making sure he kept a lid on it. And Nursey always overflowed, he couldn’t seem to keep it together, keep it in.

The words flowed from him with the last of his chill.

“I don’t know, Will. What is it ever with us? We get mad, we argue, rinse, wring, repeat. But I’m the one who has to pick up my pieces afterward because being in love with you is hard. You know that, Poindexter? It was easy to fall but now I’m here. And I’m stuck here every damn time we get like this. So, I don’t fucking know what happened, okay?”

With that Nursey had turned and fled, retreating into the Haus and his candlelit bath.

He didn’t know when Dex would be back to the Haus. A part of him hoped never. Nursey poked his face out of the water, keeping his ears under.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breath-

Maybe minutes, maybe hours later he heard a soft knock at the door. Nursey let out a soft “hmm” in acknowledgment. He couldn’t hide in his soapy water forever, might as well face this now.

The bathroom door creaked as it opened.

“I’m just gonna… come in for a second.”

Dex’s voice was soft. Softer than Nursey had ever heard it.

I should have never said the word love, he thought. It killed this before it even started.

Nursey pulled his head out of the water slowly, his shoulders pushing water over the tub’s edge.

Dex sat on the floor, leaning against the counter with one leg folded under him.

Nursey sighed, unable to look Dex in the eyes. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Dex took in a tight breath and then he did something Nursey wasn’t expecting. He laughed.

“Dude, if you didn’t I would have.”

Nursey blinked water out of his eyes, the shame in his stomach giving way to a fluttery feeling.

“About…” Nursey trailed off.

“You’re gonna make me say it anyway, aren’t you?” Dex mumbled, head bumping against the counter.

“Chyeah,” Nursey breathed.

Dex studied the flame on one of Nursey’s candles, face flushed in the dim light.

“I really like the…this,” he motioned between his chest and Nursey’s bath. “And I’m honestly tired. I’m tired, Derek. Of pretending it’s anger or hate or even disgruntled friendship between us. When it’s really the fact that I’m hopelessly in love with you and the way you, like, get under my skin. You’re like. I dunno. Like glitter? Yeah, glitter. You try to get rid of it and, even if you could, a part of you really, really doesn’t want to.”

Nursey swallowed. Dex’s gaze moved from the candle at Nursey’s feet to his gaze. The space between them felt like it was crackling. Dex’s honey eyes gleamed and flickered in the candlelight, seeming to spark in a way Nursey felt all the way to his toes.

Dex shook his head as he stood abruptly.

“I’ll…” his voice sounded like he’d been hit on the ice, shaky and disjointed. He tried again. “You’re fingers are all wrinkly. I’ll be… out here when you get out.”

Dex closed the door behind him.

Nursey looked at his pruned fingers for another minute, processing, before he jumped out of the bath so quickly that he had to use the door to keep himself from falling. He tied a towel around his waist while he struggled to turn the doorknob.

The door flew open to reveal Dex, seemingly halfway through the beginning of a pace and a hand running through his hair.

“Glitter?” was all Nursey could think to ask.

“That’s what you got from that? You fucking dork,” Dex rolled his eyes and took two steps forward, shortening the distance between them.

And then they were kissing, thank god.

The Rules™

1. You send me a song from this playlist and I write a Nurseydex ficlet about a word, lyric, feeling, etc 2. You can also suggest songs that you think should be on the playlist. I’ll add it if I like it and write the fic. 3. I can’t write that they’re just singing the song more than let’s say…three times? Bc that’s just cheating. 4. Y'all can send suggestions with the songs but it’s okay if I don’t use them. I most likely will though

Other stuff: - Probably won’t get super smutty just cause people I know might see it? But also some of these songs are saucy™ so maybe? - Generally, I don’t do AUs. Not my cup of tea most of the time. But again, some of those songs super lend to it so, no promises either way!

Find the rest under the tag “the playlist fics”

#the playlist fics #nurseydex #dexnursey #omgcp #derek malik nurse #William J Poindexter

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