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writeforfandoms · 3 months

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Warrior Song 15

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Well, we made it to the end of this fic. This is not the last I'll write of Master Chief, but I may take a break for a bit. I think I managed to wrap up everything with this last chapter, but if you have any lingering questions, I'd love to hear them!

Now, let's get this lot squared away, shall we?

Warnings: Swearing, mention of injuries, little bit of politics, everything will be okay.

Word count: 2.7k

By the time you caught up to John, there were a group of Sangheili walking towards him. He didn't have a weapon in hand, so you figured it was safe enough.

“Master Chief,” the one in front greeted, silvery armor different from what you were used to seeing. “It has been a long time.”

“Arbiter.” Chief inclined his head, ever so slightly.

“You are a difficult man to find.”

Chief just shrugged. You held back your laughter.

“How did you find us?” Fernando joined you on your other side, subtly bracing you to help you get weight off your injured leg.

“There was unusual slipspace activity,” Arbiter said calmly. “Whoever was controlling the computer was sloppy - pieces fell through, and from them we were able to determine the coordinates of this weapon.”

You blinked. You’d gotten probably half of that, but you were also exhausted, so. Whatever.

“We have injured,” Chief cut in, fortunately not looking down at you. “Limited supplies.”

“I have enough to share,” Arbiter agreed easily. “I will summon aid as well from the nearest human ships. In the meantime, you must tell me what happened here.”

Chief nodded once, taking a step forward. Kelly (who had appeared from nowhere and nearly gave you a heart attack) ushered you and Fernando away, more or less gently.

“Kelly, what–?” You started to ask, frowning.

“You are supposed to be resting,” she reminded you. “I could always carry you.”

You huffed but didn’t object further. Okay. Fine. So she was right. But you wanted to know what was going on!

Somehow you ended up back in bed, pouting, a tray of food on your lap and Kelly making sure you and Fernando both ate. (Fernando opted to sit on the floor.)

After the third time you huffed at your food, Kelly huffed back at you.

“Keep that up and I won’t ask Fred for updates.”

You pouted harder but ate in silence.

Vaguely, you could hear the camp buzzing around you, excited voices and the stomp of feet and movement all combining into one continuous drone. You’d bet news of the Sangheili ships had spread fast. Or maybe they’d heard about the human ships coming to aid too? How long would that take? How long had you been asleep, even? Long enough for Arbiter to arrive, clearly, but how long had that taken?

“Stop thinking,” Kelly advised, poking your cheek.

“Easy for you to say,” you grumbled. And then paused.

Welp. You were dead.

Kelly huffed a tiny laugh. “So the explosion did knock the sense out of you,” she teased.

You had no defense for that, so you just hunkered down in your bed, ears burning. At least you weren’t as sore today, though probably still some level of dehydrated. Your thigh was definitely the worst of your injuries still.

“Why did you blow up Atriox?”

The sudden question from Fernando startled you, and you blinked rapidly as you refocused on him. “It seemed like a good idea at the time? And, I mean, it’s not like he was friendly.”

Fernando shook his head. “No, I know that, but why you?”

Oh. That was the issue. You swallowed, looking down at the blanket pulled up over your lap. “It’s not like I sat there and debated the pros and cons,” you started slowly, picking at a loose thread. “It just… happened. I was there. I had a grenade. Nobody else was close enough, and he was doing something, and I couldn’t think of any other way to stop him.”

Fernando perched next to you, taking one of your hands in his, ducking his head a little to meet your gaze. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, you got out okay, yeah?”

You sniffled once, hands starting to shake. “Only because of John,” you whispered, shaking your head a little. “It was dumb, but I couldn’t do nothing.”

Fernando wordlessly pulled you into him, one hand patting your back gently but a little awkwardly as you fought back tears.

“Here. Tea.” Kelly nudged you, ever aware of her strength, holding a mug until you took it. Fernando looked a little relieved, honestly. You couldn’t blame him.

“Any idea how long things will take?” You took a sip of the tea. A little bland, but warm and soothing.

Kelly shrugged, a monumental shift of broad shoulders. “Arbiter is chatty. Could be a while. Longer for ships to arrive.”

Naturally. You made a face but didn’t protest, just drinking your tea. You still felt unsteady, like thinking too hard about anything might tip you out of balance again. Logically, you knew you shouldn’t be surprised - you’d had a harrowing experience that was going to stay with you for a long time.

But logic was hard to come by when you were busy wrestling your emotions back under control.

The quiet was almost too much, after the stress of the last few days. But it was good, too - at least it meant there wasn’t any further excitement. Against your will, your head started to dip, eyelids growing heavy. The quiet was also very good for making you sleepy, at least when you were running on so little sleep.

Fernando pushed you to take a nap, promising he’d wake you when something happened.

So when you did wake up, bleary and confused, to someone sitting next to you, you thought it was Fernando.

“Go back to sleep,” John murmured, voice low and rough. A heavy arm settled over your waist as John laid down behind you, already dressed down.

“What happened?” you asked, voice still thick with sleep.

“Nothing yet.” He breathed out slowly, tickling the back of your neck. “Sleep.”

You huffed half-heartedly. You wanted more answers. But the furnace-like heat of him was soothing, his even breathing lulling you back to sleep before you could voice a complaint.

You woke next time over-warm, restless and finally alert again. It took a bit of doing to get out from under John’s arm, but you did it.

Only to find him awake, lips twitching with the barest of smiles, eyes bright with amusement. You dropped your head, torn between embarrassment and amusement.

“How long have you been awake?”

“Long enough.” He didn’t move, just watching you.

“Good, you can catch me up on everything that I missed yesterday.” You sat up carefully, mindful of your bruises and aches.

John shrugged, looking up at you while still reclined. “Nothing interesting.”

“Nothing interesting?” Your eyebrows shot up. “Somehow I doubt that.”

John shrugged again, though his lips twitched. He knew exactly what he was doing. “Arbiter has agreed to give us aid,” he said, either taking pity on you or deciding not to test your patience. “UNSC ships are on the way, but it’ll take time for them to get here.”

You nodded, not quite sure how you felt about that. You’d been away for so long, and then this Halo had become its own kind of existence. You didn’t know what would happen after this, anxiety rising at all the possibilities parading through your mind.

You breathed in slowly. You didn’t need to have all the answers right now. You were okay. You had time.

John was watching you, though he didn’t reach for you. He just watched.

You managed a little smile. “Breakfast?” Sure, you did both need to eat, but also you needed out of this conversation and out of your head.

That got him moving, and it wasn’t long until the two of you were walking to get food. Your thigh ached, forcing you to go slower than normal, but you grit your teeth and worked through it. John didn’t offer to carry you, which was good because you probably would have hurt yourself smacking him.

It was odd to see Sangheili around the base, standing taller than most everybody else. They kept out of the way, mostly, though a few of them had humans with them. You couldn’t hear the conversations, but you imagined mostly it was to do with supplies. Probably.

John still attracted stares, as always, and you could just hear murmurs rippling through camp about the encounter with the Endless. How anybody knew, you weren’t sure, and you weren’t sure you cared to find out. It didn’t really matter, anyway. Soldiers were terrible gossips, so the story was bound to get around and probably even grow.

But he wasn't the only one attracting stares.

You finally caught on when someone ahead of you in the chow line actually stopped and turned to look at you. Not at John. At you.

“John,” you whispered, gaze flitting from person to person, uncertain.

“Ignore them,” he muttered, gaze flicking down to yours before he gently nudged you forward.

You frowned but didn't say anything more, just getting your food and then finding an empty table. The stares bothered you though, in a way they never had when it was just John people stared at.

And then Fred plopped down next to you, making the bench shudder under his sudden weight, the bulk of him blocking most of the rest of the room from your view. The arm he threw over your shoulders helped.

“Good to see you awake,” he rumbled, flashing you a smile.

“Thanks.” You relaxed, finally doing more than just poking at your food. “What did I miss?”

“Oh, not much.” Fred smirked down at you. “Just that you became a legend.”

You choked on your bite of food. There were several moments of flurry as both Spartans tried to help, until you were no longer choking. “What?” You managed to ask, a little wheezy still.

Fred and John exchanged a look before Fred cleared his throat. “Well,” Fred started, unusually slowly. “Word has gotten around about your part in defeating Atriox.”

“I'm sorry, my what? My part?” You couldn't quite help the way your voice slowly went up in pitch.

“You did roll a grenade under him,” John pointed out, entirely too reasonably.

“That was hardly anything,” you pointed out, gaze darting between the two Spartans. “I was mostly useless.”

“You survived.” Fred spoke quietly, almost gently, his gaze fixed on you.

Your jaw dropped a little and you looked between the two rapidly, not sure how you felt. How you should feel. Your head throbbed, too much too soon, and you shoved away from the table abruptly. It felt like every eye in the mess was on you as you walked swiftly out, palms clammy, breathing fast.

You didn't want any of this. You hadn't done that for recognition, or anything like that. You'd just wanted to help.

A call of your name finally jerked you to a halt, and you blinked rapidly. You'd made it almost all the way to the edge of camp, the Pelican not far from you. Fernando watched from the open door, hair extra ruffled.

“You okay?” He asked, brow furrowing in his concern.

“Just…” You shrugged, hands flapping uselessly at your side as words failed you entirely.

Fernando didn't push. Instead he stepped down onto the grass, walking over to you. He looked at you, closely enough that you weren't sure what to think, before he nodded once.

“I see you learned part of why I avoid the mess.”

That startled a huff out of you. “I think so,” you agreed, dry but more settled.

“Come on, got some rations here.” Fernando dropped his arm over your shoulders, leading you into the Pelican. “Did Chief bother to catch you up on the actual news?”

“I think so,” you murmured, settling easily into the copilot seat and taking the bar that Fernando handed you. “We're getting supplies and stuff from the Sangheili, and human ships are on the way to us.”

“That's about it,” Fernando agreed. “Joy says it shouldn't be more than a week.”

“Right!” Joy popped to life between the two of you with an easy smile. “And then everybody will get to go home!”

Home. The thought filled your chest with an odd ache. You weren't ready to think about home yet. “But we've had so much fun here,” you snarked. “What are we doing about the remaining Endless?”

Joy shrugged, though the look she shot to Fernando was almost worried. “I don't think that's been decided yet.”

“You are doing nothing,” Fernando scolded, even as he held out a canteen to you. “You are staying where it is safe.”

You snorted. “I'm staying with John.”

Fernando eyed you, clearly debating if he could win an argument. His lips twitched. “Stubborn.”

You laughed quietly. “What's that old saying? Pot something kettle?”

Fernando just snickered at you. “Finish eating,” he ordered you. “And drink more water.”

You blinked at him, momentarily nonplussed. “Since when did you get bossy?” But you took another bite of the bar.

“Since things keep happening and you keep getting hurt.” Fernando watched you to make sure you ate and drank before he finally looked away, satisfied.

Silence settled between the two of you, comfortable after all this time together.

You wondered if you'd still be able to find this kind of quiet after the rescue ships arrived.

“You know you're not going to end up alone, right?”

You jerked your gaze to Fernando, who wasn't even looking at you, but out at the view ahead of you both. It looked deceptively peaceful, with only a few lingering marks of humanity around.

“I don't…” You swallowed, not sure how to finish that sentence.

“Chief will follow you wherever you go,” Fernando continued. “And I'm with him. Pretty sure Blue Team follows him too, mostly. So you won't be alone.”

You breathed through the shock and revelation of that. You'd unpack that issue another day.

“Neither will you,” you pointed out, giving him the same courtesy of watching the long grass sway.

Both of you pretended not to notice signs of high emotion in the other.

Heavy boots coming up the ramp made you both turn, watching as John approached. He didn’t say anything, just stood calmly between the two of you, one hand resting on your shoulder.

He didn’t magically make things better. The panic still gnawed at your chest, the ache in your thigh hadn’t abated, and the dampness under your eyes hadn’t suddenly gone away.

But you felt better, anyway. Just having John at your side helped.

Things weren’t okay, and possibly never would be. But you were all alive.

That was enough.

–

It took a week for human ships to arrive.

Arbiter had led an assault against the remaining Endless, with Blue Team of course. You stayed behind, with Fernando threatening to sit on you. You did hear afterwards that there were fewer Endless than anticipated. Kelly seemed relaxed… except for the tap of her fingers against her thigh.

But there was nothing else to be done. If some Endless somehow managed to get off the Halo, nobody knew how, or where they had gone. There was nothing to be done.

It took a little time to arrange evacuation - the wounded went first, then everyone else. Chief, of course, insisted on being on the Pelican, along with Blue Team and yourself. Fernando, of course, was piloting.

You personally made sure Lindsay and Carter got on board a ship.

It was odd, seeing the base so empty. Not many were left beyond a few Sangheili and the last of the survivors of the Infinite.

“Strange, isn’t it?” Fernando murmured, unconsciously mirroring your thoughts, even as he stood next to you.

“It is.” Your lips twisted in some complicated expression. You wouldn’t miss life here. You’d never miss those months of fear and cold and survival. But all the same… “Just as strange to suddenly be going back.”

Fernando hummed soft understanding. “It’s not all bad,” he said with a little teasing nudge of his elbow to your ribs.

“No,” you agreed, hearing John coming up behind the two of you. “Not all.”

“These are the last to board,” John informed you, one big hand settling at your waist. “The Pelican is loaded.”

You breathed in deep, slowly. This Halo truly was beautiful.

Maybe someday you’d be able to look at long grass and flowers again.

“Let’s go,” you said, turning away from the view to look up at John, staring into the familiar gold of his visor.

Even though you couldn’t see his expression, you knew he smiled. Just a little. Just for you. “Together.”

#warrior song #master chief x reader #john-117 x reader #f!reader

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suzyq31 · 2 months

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WIP Tag

Thanks for the tag @nodirectionhome-ao3! I almost feel unworthy as I really am not writing much now and feeling a lot of conflict about how to move forward in fandom, but it's still fun to have a chance to chat about what I am writing (even if it's slow).

List the titles your top five priorities for WIP updates (link your fics for new readers!)

An upcoming scene, event, or detail in each fic that you're looking forward to writing

Bonus: make a poll for your followers to vote on which top 5 WIP they are most excited to see an update on!

Then tag 10 writer friends

Titles

Maybe Tomorrow: The epilogue is all that's left! This is a hard story to categorize, but essentially Harry and Hermione are fixing up Potter Manor the first Christmas after the war, on Christmas Eve they wake up to find themselves seemingly in the future, or some possible alternate reality. Friends to lovers, time travel, domestic fluff and plenty of angst thrown in.

Untitled James and Lily. A one shot sitting in my drafts. Mischief and games, and a first kiss. Possibly going to connect it to At The Beginning.

Found. I've actually pulled this from Ao3 and it's become a personal project instead. It's a spin off from my Seasons Series. Second generation, original character, coming back from the dead and other fun stuff. Harry/Hermione.

Iris. Another project I'm unsure of. It's still online, but may take it down in future to also write for myself instead of an audience. It's the first long story I ever attempted, and was a tad ambitious with it. Harry and Hermione. Hidden child, post war, angsty as hell. And a mystery plot that is slowly driving me insane as I try to weave in the appropriate clues.

Don't really know at this point. @bettertoflee and I have lost steam on In Between which is supposed to be a steamy, fake dating, 8th year Harmony. Life is just hectic and neither of us are feeling overly motivated. I have several vague James and Lily ideas floating in my brain, as well as a few original short stories I'd like to experiment with...but lately writing has been a chore and my creative muse feels depleted!

As you can see the theme is that I have all these Harry and Hermione WIPS, yet no will to work on them, or at least continue posting (sigh). And I would like to write more James and Lily, yet keep freezing. So fun times all around!

Upcoming Scenes, Events, Details

So it's just the epilogue left. One detail is that so far it's only one scene and not very long, but still, I am so excited to finally wrap this up and reveal some stuff. It's probably the story that has meant the most to me on a personal level, and it feels so good to have finished something that I worked hard on and am proud of.

There is a kiss that I am very eager to write. Plus some group dynamics that I'm having fun experimenting with.

Now that I'm not writing this for an audience there has been some freedom with being able to let go of certain details and it feels great to just jump around and have fun with it. I'm working on a scene of a cute "first" date that makes me all fluttery ❤️ Also Ron will be making another appearance soon, and I do love writing him.

There are some cute scenes I'm excited to write, but they are a ways away and I don't want to say too much. I will say there is a kiss that I am also very excited to write in this one to! Let's just see if I ever get through all the "mystery" bits.

Well, if we could summon the energy/ability, there is a smut scene in In Between that I know I'm eager to write, or read, who knows which of us will make it happen 👀 I would also very much like it if my desire to write would come back as I keep getting snippets of Jily banter in my head that would be good to get down.

Not sure if anyone will be interested in reading any of this, but yes a glimpse at the chaos of my writing life (at least fandom wise).

Anyone who wants to participate, consider yourself tagged! But will also add a few that I am curious about! @glitterwitch1 @myst867 @annonymouslyblonde

#harry potter fanfic #harry x hermione #harmony fanfic #jily #james/lily #writing woes #my wips

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jooniperbonsai · 1 month

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Posting Schedule, Updates, & Announcements

Hello!

Dropping in to give some important updates and news!

First of all, I'll be heading to Seoul in a little over a week and will be gone until April 5th! My birthday happens during that span so I am finally having a much-needed vacation and celebration. I look forward to all your messages and comments because....

I've been working on Chapter 3 and that should be out before the end of this week! So far it's sitting around 10k in terms of length, but I feel like I still have a way's to go so bear with me! I want it up before my trip.

Finally, I have some exciting news:

You can anticipate at least two more fics heading your way this spring and summer. One shots? Series? Who knows, we'll just have to wait and see where these projects take me.

Coming this April:

I'll Give You the Sun (sundeity!Hoseok and moondeity!reader (afab)) (s, a, f)

"I'd give you the sun if you asked me You could have all of the time You could have the stars and the trees When dividin' up the universe You could have mine." -"j's lullaby (darlin' i'd wait for you)" by Delaney Bailey

Destined to fulfill an ancient prophecy claiming he will ascend into greatness on the day of the kingdom's first total solar eclipse, Hoseok is jaded and cynical over his lack of choice in becoming the king and god of the Solar Kingdom. He's even less pleased that his coronation is to be shared with the future king of the Lunar Kingdom, whose family has held shaky ties with his since the creation of the universe.

But when the moon fully overtakes the sun and bathes everything in darkness, the ascension of gods and kings doesn't seem to be all the that the fates prophesied. Now Hoseok is a god, a king, and bound to you, the true Queen and Goddess of the Lunar Kingdom.

Coming Late Spring/Early Summer:

Vienna Waits for You (vampire!taehyung and vampire!reader (afab)) (s, a, f)

Slow down you crazy child Take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while It's alright, you can afford to lose a day or two (oooh) When will you realize, Vienna waits for you? -"Vienna" by Billy Joel

It’s lust. It’s power. It’s drugs. It’s him. The way he can look at someone and know not just what they want, but what they need. Money, sex, freedom. It's all the same, the way humans will trade themselves away thinking they're buying time. But he knows that's how none of this works.

Time. That's something he knew you didn't have. Still, he gave it to you, even though it wasn't his to give. Now, while he owns the streets of Paris, his past choices are coming back to haunt him and he can't run from the memory of a life he once loved, and all the things he left back in Vienna, including you.

->This fic is within the same universe as My Bloody Valentine. While you don't have to read it, it'll provide a lot of context from the first one

I hope you are ready to love these characters as much I do. I am so excited to continue developing them. Despite my side ventures into other stories, I am having a blast writing Thanks for the Sub, and I hope my lovely Jin biases out there are feeling fed and appreciated (don't worry Jimin, Yoongi, and fellow Namjoon biases, there's ideas in the works for you too). I don't plan on abandoning that project any time soon.

Thanks again for all the love on past chapters of TFTS and My Bloody Valentine. Please give the next chapter of TFTS lots of love when it comes out. -h

#seokjin x reader #bts fanfic #kim seokjin #jin smut #seokjin smut #bts smut #hoseok x reader #jung hoseok #hoseok smut #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung #taehyung smut #bts fanfiction #vampire taehyung #sun god hobi

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ladysomething · 2 months

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I love everything that you’ve written for F1 so far (you are just the most incredible writer, I could read all of the fics you’ve written a million times and never get bored) but you’ve truly outdone yourself with Where You Go, I Go!!!! I literally read chapter 2 like 4 times last week and I’ve just been counting down the days until I could read chapter 3 (but I pinky promise I do not mean that in a “write faster” kind of way, I mean it in a “I was excited that I audibly squealed when I saw you posted today” kind of way). And ABO is something that I hardly ever read. But you just do it SO well. I LOVE the world you’ve built. And this fic is just SO incredible. I wasn’t sure how you could top the first two chapters, but eek CHAPTER THREE. The way that Charles going into pre-heat prevented any questions about Max and his intentions from getting answered (the tension is buildingggg) and Pierre showing up and Charles getting claimed, oh my god every scene was incredible and I am SO EXCITED to find out where this is going, because I genuinely don’t know what to expect!!! Thank you so, so much for sharing this fic with us!!!

I am a different anon than before, but I was very interested in reading your response about if you found writing long fic to be daunting. Like prev anon, I am a numbers girl, so learning a little about your writing process/philosophy was super interesting!! I have another question if you don’t mind me asking- how do you decide on your posting schedule?! Although I would literally read this whole fic in one sitting, I do love the 1+ weeks between updates because I love getting excited for a new chapter and looking forward to it, but you said in the ask that you were already writing ch6, so I’m curious what made you pick the schedule you did!!

thanks again for sharing this fic with us, we are truly all so lucky to read it!!

ahhh!!!

well firstly I can't take the entire credit for this fic. @saiyanwitcher reached out to me after I wrote Give Me That Fire and offered to beta for me. As we were getting to know each other, she asked if I'd ever consider writing an Omegaverse fic, and I said yes, and here we are. But if there is any reason why this fic is better than the others, it's all because of her! She has spent so many hours brainstorming with me, proofreading, and pulling me back from the edge when I said "I want to do THIS" and she said "girl what" (she didn't really, everything I propose she says "alright, lets figure out how we can make that work").

I'm so delighted to hear you loved chapter 3! this whole fic is sooo different to anything I've ever written, but I LOVE exploring new themes and topics and ideas in fic - you'll never really catch me doing the same thing twice. pushing boundaries is what I love about fic, but it doesn't always pay off, so I'm SO happy to hear that people are loving this fic as much as they are.

as for your question ... which, firstly, like most artists I am extremely self involved, so talking about myself is like my fave thing to do lmao. I will answer literally ANY question you could ask.

but, posting schedule. after many years of trial and error while posting long fics, the thing I've found that works for me is that I need to have a fairly sizeable amount of the story in the can before I start posting. I usually like 5-6 chapters, but, more importantly, I want to know that I have the feel of the story before I start to post, because once I post I can't go back and change things. at about that 5-6 chapter mark, I know that I'm deep enough into a story that the plot is right, the characters are right, and the tone I'm using is right, and then I feel comfortable starting to release it out into the world.

from there, I post a chapter only when I finish a chapter. so I finished chap 6 on Tuesday, and then I worked on chap 3 on Wednesday, gave it to @saiyanwitcher to beta on Wednesday evening, and then by this morning she'd done a final check and I was okay to post.

my own personal goal is to write one chapter a week, with Wednesday being the day I'm always aiming towards. so this week I was actually a little later than my "schedule" because ch 6 was giving me a headache and it took longer to write than I wanted.

at this point, I know roughly how long it takes me to write one chapter for this story (a week), but I also know some of these chapters are harder to write than others so I HAVE to give myself some extra leeway (hence the maximum of 2 weeks).

I hope that kind of explained my thought process and as I said, I'm so happy to answer any questions!

#where you go i go #anon ask #lestappen fic

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canonically-a-genloser · 11 months

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platonic!Ranboo x reader blurb!! end of the school year drabble thingy yippee :D

this is the first one I've done in a while, for those of you who may not have seen my update a few weeks ago it's been a ride but I'm learning how to be productive again and I'm very proud of myself today despite some stress I went through, I'm working towards getting my life back on track :]

ANYWAYS ENOUGH OF MY RAMBLES AND ON WITH THE FIC/HEADCANONS/WHATEVER THIS MAY END UP BEING, REMEMBER TO STAY HYDRATED AS WELL AS YOU'RE ABLE AND REMEMBER YOU ARE LOVED <3

no pronouns for reader are used besides you/yours!

"Y/n!" Ranboo called from behind you, evidently out of breath from running.

You turned to face them, forgetting for a moment how tall they really were. They had grown a lot physically the past year, you thought vaguely as you made eye contact with them.

"Hey," they said, far more quietly than they had been speaking. "So it's summer now, huh?" They paused for a breath. "Never thought I'd miss.. y'know.." he waved at the school. "Anyway. It's just- I don't think I'll be coming back."

Your heart nearly stopped. "What?"

"It's not bad, it's not bad."

You couldn't stop yourself from thinking of every possibility as they paused, seemingly trying to figure out how to explain.. whatever this was to you. Was he okay? Were they going to move? Change schools?

"So- remember the restaurant jobs that kinda just all fell through?" they asked in a low tone.

You nodded hesitantly. What would that have to do with school-

"I've started.. kind of a job? Like- yeah, it's a job, I'm just-" they paused and sighed. "I started making YouTube videos. And- it's doing like, really unbelievably well."

A moment of silence reigned. They looked anxiously into your eyes, silently begging you to react.

"It's okay," you said, putting a hand on their arm in an attempt at comforting them. "It's just- you're sure it's enough that you won't need to come back?"

They nodded, sure of themselves this time. "It is. I know that much."

You started walking slowly, barely registering where you were headed. They really weren't coming back to school, then. They just didn't need it. There wouldn't be anything to look forward to next school year. You wouldn't see them on the daily next year. You wouldn't get to sit in the library together during study hall anymore. You wouldn't get to play Sticks with them during boring classes. You wouldn't get to make dumb jokes at each other over nothing anymore.

You should've had two more years.

You should've had your best friend right there with you until the two of you graduated and after that, even.

"Hey," their voice broke into your thoughts. "You're not mad, right?"

You looked up at them, tears you hadn't noticed before ready to spill down your cheeks. "No, no, I'm not mad, never mad, just-" you couldn't look them in the eyes anymore. You barely trusted your voice to crack. "I'm gonna miss you. So, so much."

Their arms wrapped around you almost instantly. It was warmth, it was love, it was home, you didn't want him to let go-

"Y/n," they said in the most gentle tone you'd ever heard them use, "this doesn't mean you and me are gonna change, okay? I know this is a lot. I'm scared too. Just please.. try to trust me? We can keep in touch and everything, this doesn't mean we'll never see each other," they reassured you. "Maybe I could introduce you to some of my new friends? I don't mind streaming with you," they offered.

You looked up, a playful smile barely beginning to break through the tears. "It's a deal then," you said. "I'm still making you help with Spanish homework though."

A half-pretend groan escaped the taller as the two of you began walking towards the bus for the last time that spring.

have a picture of ranbaba with the unedited unproofread fic

it's late and this took longer than anticipated but I love you all <3 I'm just gonna post this and add tags later :] goodnight gamers!!

#platonic ranboo x reader #dsmp x platonic reader #ranboo x you #ranboo x reader #ranboo x y/n #ranboo x gn!reader

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sequinsmile-x · 1 year

Text

Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Seven

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Thank you so much for the love on the last chapter...I'd apologise for the cliffhanger but we all know I wouldn't mean it haha

Just a quick note, any flashbacks going forward will be marked by the use of italics and the date. The regular timeline will now be anything post-Foyet and will be in order.

-x-

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: Description of canon-typical violence/injury.

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List and will be updated as we go along

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

June 2008

She’d been nervous about their date. Anxiety she hadn’t felt since she was much younger thrumming under her skin, making her leg bounce up and down as she sat at her desk, waiting for the clock to tick down to home time so they could go to dinner. Aaron was insistent on taking her out before they went any further, their interactions since the night in the motel limited to stolen kisses in the brief moments they were alone. He always put a stop to it before it could go any further, softly kissing her cheek, or the tip of her nose, when he said he wanted to do it properly.

Emily rolled her eyes every time, but it went some way to calm some of her fears that, despite his promise, this was nothing more than a rebound for him. That she was just there, a convenience. She felt awful every time she thought it, knowing that she knew him better than that. Underneath everything, all the seriousness, the sternness he wore like a mask, he was a kind man. One of the best she’d ever known. And she trusted him.

She’s relieved when the date goes well. That the romantic undertones don’t change something they’ve done countless times before beyond his hand over hers on the table, and their chairs being slightly closer together than usual. He kisses her next to his car and asks if she wants to go back to his, and her response is to nod before pulling him into another kiss, tasting the dessert they’d shared on his tongue.

He lets her into his apartment, his hand gentle on her lower back as he leads her in and closes the door behind them. He leans down and presses a kiss to her bare shoulder, his fingers softly grazing the straps of her dress.

“You want a drink?” He asks, and she turns her head so she can look at him as he’s standing behind her. She kisses him briefly before pulling back and nodding, “Scotch?”

“Sounds good,” she replies, stepping away from him as he walks past her, his hands ghosting over her hips as he moves to the small bar cart she’d bought him as a moving-in gift. She walks over to the couch and sits down, alone only for a minute or so before he joins her, a glass of scotch in her eye line as she takes it from him. “Thank you.”

He sits next to her and she finds herself drawn to him, leaning into his side as his arm wraps around her shoulder like they are two puzzle pieces slotting together. It feels absurd, that it seems this simple. Both of them at ease in a way that usually came months into a relationship, not on the same night as their first official date.

They talk about everything. Aaron tells her about Jack’s most visit, how he’s so fast now that he struggles to catch him sometimes as he runs havoc around the place. She tells him about a prank that Spencer had played on Derek, little tidbits about the team that he usually didn’t get to know about. She finishes her drink, enjoying the pleasant burn of the last bit of the scotch as she swallows it down.

“You want another one?” He asks, and she looks up at him, shaking her head as she takes his empty glass from him, setting it and hers on the coffee table in front of them. “What do you want, Emily?”

She smiles, biting her lip as she leans in to kiss him, her hand on his cheek as he deepens the kiss, holding him in place as his hand drifts to her waist, his fingers grasping at the material of her dress. She ends up in his lap, her dress shifting up her thighs as she straddles him, her arms looped around his neck.

He holds her close, his hands firm at her lower back as he breathes her in, remembering every little thing he can. She rolls her hips against him and he groans, part of his brain that he’d successfully ignored all evening coming back online as he pulls back from her, unable to stop himself from smiling as she tries to chase his lips.

“Em-”

“If you’re about to tell me you’re a second date kind of guy I might kill you,” she jokes, her words breathless as she smiles at him, her chest heaving slightly as she stares at him.

“No,” he replies, smiling at her as he smoothes some of her hair back, “It’s not that it’s just,” he pauses, unsure how to phrase it, how to put into words the concerns that had kept him from going any further with her despite his entire body screaming at him, “You’re my best friend, Em.”

She beams at him, impossibly more beautiful as she moves one of her hands from behind his neck to cup his cheek, her thumb delicate against his skin.

“You’re my best friend too, against all odds,” she replies, smiling when he chuckles at her attempt at a joke, “That’s why I think this works.”

“I know,” he says, his hands on her hips as he holds her tightly, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” she says simply like it was the easiest thing in the world. She knows it was her turn to take the jump, that he’d been the one to assure her in the motel room where they began and now he needed it in return. It’s how they’d worked since they’d become friends, the give-and-take that they both needed but had never found elsewhere, “I really want this, Aaron. I want you. We can figure out the rest as we go.”

If it was anyone else saying it to him it wouldn’t be enough. He needed to know everything, to have control, but he trusts her. He loves her, he knows that already but won’t say it yet, afraid it was far too much too soon. So he accepts it, simply nodding in response. She smiles as she leans forward to stamp a kiss against his lips and he hesitates.

“For fuck sake, Aaron,” she says, rolling her eyes at him.

“I just want to know you’re sure, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment makes any misplaced anger disappear as quickly as it had appeared, and she shakes her head at him before she leans back enough to pull her dress off, leaving her in the underwear she’d later admit to him that she’d bought specifically for tonight. For him.

“I’m very sure,” she replies, leaning back in to kiss him before he can look at her properly, pleased when he immediately responds this time. His hands are scorching against her skin, his fingerprints branding her ribs as his hands drift over her, mapping out her hills and valleys.

Her skin was so soft he thought it might drive him insane, and he knows that later on he’ll take his time to memorise her, but right now his need for her overrides that. Desperate and overwhelming as he stops fighting the need to know how she felt everywhere. He runs his hand down her stomach, stopping as the texture of her changes, his thumb catching on some thicker skin.

She pulls away from him as the need for oxygen takes over, her forehead pressed against his, and she feels his thumb tracing the scar on her abdomen, and she looks down at the same time he does. She swallows thickly as she watches him trace the whole scar, from just below her ribcage, moving outwards onto her belly in a backwards l-shape. It was faded now, the best it would ever be, and sometimes she managed to forget it was there. This was the first time she’d ever told someone the story behind it, coming up with lies on the spot for past partners as they asked curiously, and it felt oddly liberating as well as making her nervous in equal measure that someone knew all of her like this.

“I know it’s not-”

“You’re beautiful,” he says, his hands drifting to her back as he shifts her closer, cutting off her self-deprecating comment she had ready, “So fucking beautiful.”

He kisses her, and she gets lost in him, everything else but the two of them disappearing.

___

Everything slows down, the only thing she’s aware of is her own breathing, impossibly loud in an otherwise quiet apartment. Time stretches out around her and she watches as Foyet lurches backwards, already partway to standing when the bullet hit his chest. He stumbles, the gun in his hand and the knife in the other falling to the ground just before he does, narrowly missing landing on Aaron.

Emily keeps her gun trained on him, waiting for him to move again, to get up despite the gunshot wound to his chest. But he doesn’t. The myth of his monster, making him larger than life, terrifying enough to have a hardened cop make a decade long deal with him, snuffed out. Her hands shake every so slightly as she lowers her gun.

Everything snaps back into place, into full speed, almost all at once. The ringing in her ears from the gunshot being in such a close range sharp, enough to make her shake her head slightly.

“Em.”

She looks down at Aaron, laying prone on the floor, blood seeping through his white shirt from multiple spots, a grim pattern she knows she’d never stop seeing. Her knees hit the floor hard, cracking even with the cushioning of the carpet as she reaches Aaron’s side. She’s grateful that Foyet has fallen clear of him, that she can try her best to ignore the body on the floor next to them as she focuses everything on the man she loved.

“Aaron,” she breathes out, lowering her hand to his chest but stopping short, not sure where to start, “Fuck I’m sorry,” she mumbles, shrugging off her jacket so she can ball it up with one hand and places it on his chest, pressing down where the bleeding seemed to be at it’s worst, “I’m so sorry I was talking to Pen. I…”

She drifts off, unsure what to say as bitter guilt makes her chest tight, the taste awful and lasting on her tongue. She’d been talking, joking with her friend, a brief flash of light after days on the worst case they’d been on in a long time, when Aaron had been attacked. Defenceless as a man who had sworn revenge finally made his move.

Aaron shakes his head at her, his hand shaking as he places it over hers on his chest as she grabs her phone from her pocket, doing his best to squeeze her hand in comfort despite the pain it causes him. She dials 911, desperately waiting for it to connect.

“Is he dead?” Aaron chokes out and she nods, apologising under her breath as she presses firmer into his chest, his blood sickenly warm through her jacket.

“Yes,” she says, casting a glance at the deadly still Foyet next to her, the blood stain coming from under him merging with Aaron’s, “He’s dead.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, and she feels misplaced anger rise up, her nerves fried by the last few minutes and she tucks her phone between her ear and shoulder as she reaches over, screwing her eyes closed as she presses her fingers to Foyet’s neck.

She’s not sure what it says about her, what it means when she feels relieved to feel nothing there. Deathly stillness where his pulse should be. She was supposed to protect life, not take it, but she was glad he was dead. That whatever campaign he was about to start against Aaron, and by extension, all of them, was over before it would start.

“I’m sure,” she chokes out, settling back down next to Aaron’s side, placing her spare hand on his cheek, “He’s dead,” she repeats, smiling shakily at him as she sees him relax slightly, his eyes fluttering. As if he’d been forcing himself to stay awake until he knew the danger was gone, until he knew she was safe. She presses harder into his chest, oddly grateful when she gets a groan in response. A sign he was still awake. “Now please just stay awake ok?”

He grunts, his eyes still flickering, “I love you.”

She grits her teeth, cursing that it was taking 911 so long to connect, “I love you too,” she replies, holding his chin firmly in her hand, forcing him to look at her, “But we aren’t doing that. You’re going to be fine.”

“911, what's your emergency?”

She breathes out a sigh of relief at the answer on the otherside of the phone, her voice catching ever so slightly in her throat as she says the awful truth out loud for the first time.

“This is SSA Emily Prentiss from the FBI, I need an ambulance and the police,” she swallows thickly, pushing down the emotions she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, let herself feel until she knew Aaron was going to be ok, “My boyfriend has been attacked by the Boston Reaper”

___

She rhythmically picks at the cuticle of her thumbnail, her eyes fixed on the ground ahead of her as her leg bounces up and down. Her adrenaline still flowing through her, leaving her on high alert with a seemingly endless amount of energy making her body practically vibrate with it.

“Emily? What happened? Are you ok?”

She looks up at the sound of JJ’s voice, fast and slightly breathless as she reaches her side, clearly having rushed to her. Emily called JJ as soon as the ambulance arrived at the hospital, leaving her alone in the waiting room as Aaron was wheeled away to surgery. A partial explanation as to what had happened. That Aaron had been attacked by Foyet. That she’d walked in on it.

“I’m fine,” she says, swallowing thickly, looking back down at the ground, “Aaron is in surgery.”

“Em,” JJ says, sitting down next to her and putting her hand over Emily’s who immediately flinches, pulling away. She can’t bear the thought of someone touching her, every nerve ending in her body feeling razor sharp. JJ smiles softly, not looking offended in the slightest, well aware of how Emily functioned, “You’ve got blood on you.”

Emily looks down at her clothes, darker patches on her pants and the sleeves of her shirt where she’d knelt in Aaron’s blood as she stayed close to him, eventually forced to move by the paramedics when they arrived. Her hands still looked tinged with it even though she knew it wasn’t there, that her hands were bright red from how hard she’d scrubbed them in the small hospital bathroom.

“It’s not mine,” she says, “I didn’t…” she blows out a breath shaking her head at herself, “I was on the phone to Pen, I was outside,” she laughs slightly bitterly, “I was joking about sex as Aaron was being stabbed just a couple of feet away from where we fucked for the first time.”

JJ frowns at her, her hand twitching as she stops herself from reaching out for her again.

“Em-”

“Emily, JJ,” Derek’s voice cuts JJ’s admonishment off, and Emily is grateful for it, not sure she could bear to hear it. She looks up to find the rest of the team all arriving at once, all looking concerned in their own way. She sees Penelope’s gaze linger on her shirt, the stained sleeves, and Emily crosses her arms to cover them. “What the hell happened?”

“We got home, I left my phone in the car and I went back for it,” she explains, her eyes briefly meeting Penelope's before she looks at the rest of them, “I heard Foyet taunting him through the door.”

“You should have called for backup,” Derek says, his hands on her hips, and she feels anger lick at her insides and she clenches her teeth. She forces it back down, not sure she has much space left for everything she’s stopping herself from feeling. Sure she could burst with it at any second, but knowing she can’t until she’s alone. Until she knows Aaron is ok. “Going in there alone was so dangerous-”

“So I should have done what? Left Aaron in there alone?” She asks bitterly, her voice tight, “Don’t act like you wouldn’t have done the same thing.”

Derek goes to argue with her, his mouth already open, but JJ stops him with a simple shake of her head.

“Foyet?” Dave asks, a kind look on his face that Emily isn’t entirely sure she deserves.

“He’s dead. I shot him,” she explains, not missing the relief on all of their faces. “Aaron is in surgery. The paramedics counted seven stab wounds. He was stabbed…seven times whilst I was on the phone.”

It’s a thought that keeps sticking in her mind, the thing she can’t get past yet. That if she’d simply remembered her goddamn phone she would have been with him, that if they’d both been there maybe they would have been able to stop Foyet before Aaron got hurt.

“If you hadn’t got there when you did it would have been more,” Spencer says, his voice almost too quiet to hear before he clears his throat as they all look at him, “He gave himself nine stab wounds, it’s not outside of his profile that he’d give Hotch the same injuries.”

Derek elbows him sharply as Emily visibly reacts for the first time since they’d arrived, the thought of what Foyet potentially had planned for them weighing heavily on her shoulders.

A doctor walks into the room, cutting off any further conversation, and Emily is on her feet before she can talk.

“Family of Aaron Hotchner?”

“I’m his girlfriend, Emily Prentiss,” Emily says, her hands tightly clasped together in front of her, “I came in with him and I’m his medical proxy.”

She’s over explained it, and she knows it, the soft smile on the doctor’s face is the only evidence she needs, but she doesn’t want anything to stop her from seeing him. Happy to flash her gun and badge if she needed to. Or donate as much of her trust fund as it would take to fund a new wing of the hospital, anything to sit by his side.

“He’s out of surgery now, I can take you to him if you want. Only one visitor at a time at the moment I’m afraid.”

Emily breathes out a sigh of relief, and she feels JJ’s hand on her shoulder, squeezing tightly as she turns around to look at them briefly.

“Yes, please. I’d love that,” she says before looking at the team again, not even having to ask when JJ nods at her.

“We’ll get everything practical done,” she promises, and the rest of the team nods in agreement, “And I’ll hold off Strauss as long as I can.”

Emily flashes her a quick and grateful smile. There would be so much to sort out, Aaron’s apartment was now a crime scene. A man had died in there, and she knew there would be questions, things that had to be worked through. But for now, she didn’t care, wanting nothing more than to see him. She turns back to the doctor who directs her out of the waiting room.

“Mr Hotchner had seven stab wounds,” the doctor explains, her voice almost too kind for the information she was relaying, “We were able to stop his internal bleeding, but due to the location of some of the wounds his recovery will take a little longer,” she says, coming to a stop outside of a room. Emily can see him through the glass, laying in his hospital bed, and it takes everything in her to not walk away, to leave the doctor where she was standing, “We did have to resect part of his liver due to the damage, but that will grow back.”

Emily chuckles bitterly, the sound catching in her chest, and it’s inappropriate, “Sorry,” she mumbles, pressing her hand into her abdomen over her own scar, another grim thing they’d now have in common, “Yes I know it grows back, but he’ll be ok?” she asks, and she looks back over to his room after the doctor nods, “Can I go in now?”

“Of course,” the doctor replies, “He’ll be asleep for a little while, but you can sit with him until he wakes up.”

“Thank you,” Emily says, sharing one more smile with the doctor before she walks away, her steps determined until she reaches the door, brief hesitation that she pushes past as she opens the door.

The beeping of the machines indicating he was alive, his heart beating steadily, are loud. A melody she finds comforting, as she stands in the doorway before moving closer. She grabs the chair and pulls it as near to the bed as she can before she sits down, her eyes fixed on him. She can see the bandages sticking out from the hospital gown he had on. He almost looked like he was sleeping normally, the same peaceful look on his face that she loved to wake up to on the rare occasion he slept longer than her, his hair flopped over his forehead.

She reaches out, ignoring the shake of her hand as she links her fingers through his. The warmth of his skin against hers fractures something inside of her chest. Everything she had kept in there over the last few hours breaking free, breaching the dam she had forced them behind. She sobs, her body aching with it, her ribs pulling around the sound. And she covers her eyes with her spare hand.

She could have lost him, and she wasn’t sure how she would have ever forgiven herself if she had.

-x-

Now the Foyet stuff is done, and we're moving into this fic's own version of events post Aaron's attack, as promised this fic will focus on different challenges than usual for our favourite idiots!!

-x-

Tag list:

@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @beebeelank, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77, @alexblakegf, @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch, @emobabeyy, @victoiregranger, @stormyweatherth

Join my tag list here!

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #aaron x emily #hotch x prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction

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eleanordaisyjr · 1 year

Text

After I found those photos, I can't stop thinking of young Morpheus and young Corinthian, so I wrote a fic of them with holiday vibes.

Title: Silent Night

(about 1270 words)

*It's first time to translate my fic, so sorry for my poor English.

<Update> I posted this to AO3 too. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/44290988)

　The young king of Dreams apparently does not like the throne.

　The Corinthian, who had been summoned, stepped into the deserted room and looked not at the throne towering high in front, but in the room dimly lit by the light from the high windows.

　There he is - it didn't take long to find him. At the bottom of the stone staircase extending down from the throne, a small black figure sits like a child forgotten by the parents to pick up. He faces down in a thick book in his arms.

　When the Corinthian stands before him, Morpheus looks up from the book after a moment. He looks a little surprised. You summoned me, thought the Corinthian with feeling a little offended and asks.

"What can I do for you?"

　Morpheus turns his face back down to the book again.

"You've gone off to the waking world without my permission, again." He says with tuning the page slowly.

　Here comes again. The Corinthian put his hands in the pockets in disgust. "Nothing wrong with that, isn't it”

　Morpheus looks up slowly. His light-coloured eyes looks up into the Corinthian's face.

"No, it's not fine. Your role is here in the Dreaming. Not in the Waking World."

“And for that role,” says the Corinthian “I want to know more about humans."

　Morpheus' eyes grow more stern as he lets out a small sigh, and get slightly narrowed.

"If you want to know about humans, why don't you read books?" Morpheus says and closes the book with a thud. A loud slam echoes hollowly through the hall. The theatrical way makes the Corinthian even more irritated.

"Books?" He shrugs his shoulders. "You can't understand those complicated humans just from what's written in books. You've got your nose in a book all day like that, and you still don't understand people at all."

　Before he finishes the line all at once, Morpheus' pure white cheeks had turned slightly red. But that doesn’t frighten the Corinthian; in fact, it even caused a certain elation in his heart. If the king is to rise up and grab him, he would wish for it. But Morpheus remained perched on the cold stone steps, being looked down by this cheeky nightmare. And then, a cold smile appeared on his thin lips.

"Do you think I'd understand humans if I mingled with them like you do? You were just having fun again anyway, weren't you?"

"Well, yes" the Corinthian gave a small shrug. "I wanted to visit the university before the Christmas holiday starts. It's nice there. It's full of people in our age, full of dreams and nightmares” he licks his lips remembering that sweet air.

　Morpheus rolled his small eyes and looked away from the Corinthians. Not wanting to miss his gaze, the Corinthian sat down on the staircase. The first step from the floor, one step below the one covered with Morpheus' robe.

"You made me as a nightmare" says the Corinthian. "And to live up to it, the best place to learn about humans is there.”

　Morpheus' slender chin rests on the hand that holds his legs.

“You should go there too,” the words comes out of the Corinthian’s mouth. The King of Dreams, who was staring into the void, straightened up and opened his tight-lipped mouth.

"No. I have a responsibility. I have a responsibility to rule the collective unconsciousness of the humans here. I must fulfill that responsibility to live up to the name of the Endless."

　Every time the word ‘responsibility’ coming out of his mouth as if he persuades himself, it looks like strangling his thin neck and body. The Corinthian leans forward to look into his eyes.

"A little absence won't break this realm, because you built it, Morpheus… my lord."

　Though he's giving the sweet words that it's okay to relax a little, another part of Corinthian laughs darkly. I want to go and enjoy the waking world with you - this feeling is actually mixed with the desire to drag this noble king down to the same place as himself. Morpheus does never step out of the absolute right place, and that annoys the Corinthian. It's a feeling he learnt from young humans. But -

"No. I am not like you." This stubborn king will not seduced by him, and this argument always ends up there.

　The Corinthian looks up. Then he suddenly remembers and puts one hand in his jacket pocket.

“Oh, by the way -”

　He gets his hand out from his pocket to Morpheus, who stares at it.

"I found it in the Christmas market."

　He passed a glass sphere on a small pedestal to his thin white fingers.

"What was the name ...... oh yeah, a snow globe."

　As Morpheus twirled it around with his fingers, the little white grains inside moved softly. The Corinthian held out his hand once more and Morpheus hands it to him. He grabbed the pedestal and turned it over, then slowly turned back. The grains inside fluttered and danced in all directions. Morpheus watches without blinking. The Corinthian turns it over again and winds the little screw at the bottom. When he takes his hand away, the music box plays a melody.

"Here you go," The Corinthian says, handing it to Morpheus again. "I give it to you."

　In the dome, a small figure of black cat sits in the dancing snowflakes. I don't know why I wanted this in that little stall with all those similar goods, but when it's in Morpheus' hand, I feel as if it has been meant to be there.

"The humans make pretty things, huh?" said the Corinthian.

Morpheus was staring at the small object his hand, but he looked at the Corinthian. His mouth is smiling. Not a cold smile this time, but an amused smirk.

"Oh, I can do that too."

　Morpheus then quickly raises his free hand. His palm opens up and his thin but strong fingers gets stiffened for a brief moment and turn the hand softly. As if guided by that move, the white stuff slowly descended from the darkness of the high ceiling. Like the real snowflakes, it came down quietly and gradually and they disappear just before they hit the floor.

　Morpheus looked back to the object in his hand again. The quiet sound flows from his hand. The Corinthian remembers the lyrics of the melody as he listens to the sound, which is too small and modest to be echoed in this great hall.

　Silent night, holy night

　　 All is calm, all is bright.

　Time flows slowly and calmly between them. The falling snow makes this moment seem eternal. The Corinthian’s irritated feelings from earlier disappears like snowflakes.

　Morpheus is still staring at the glass ball, as if he has been taken in that. His eyes are wide open. The snow born from his hands is reflected on his eyes. This is more beautiful, isn’t it? The Corinthian was totally mesmerised but then he notices the eyes are looking at him.

"Why are you looking?" Morpheus asked.

"Nothing." The Corinthian quickly avert his eyes and sees the above end of the swirling staircase. A black, cold throne stands there.

　Will he one day go there? To the place beyond the reach of me who is just a creation of him, thought the Corinthian.

　He turns his eyes back to Morpheus’s face, which is still sometimes looks fragile and young.

"It's nothing, really," The Corinthian says again. The young Dream lord looks back at the young nightmare and just tilts his head curiously.

#the sandman #corintheus #the dream of the endless #morpheus #the corinthian #my fic

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peyton-warren · 9 months

Note

My favorite fic of yours Although I fell in l've with your writing with "The Hidden Sun" this has to be "Blinded By The Fog" I just love all the characters so much!

My favorite chapter in my favorite fic of yours Chapter 4 of Blinded By The Fog. I re-read this so many times. Always finding all these little scenes that melt my heart. And then that last little words “Ni-night, baby.” It always breaks me and I'm sobbing like a baby 😭

A fic I haven't read yet from you, but I want to Stick handling series. It's sitting in my drafts for a long time and I swear I will get to it, promised

What made me the most emotional after reading

Already mentioned it, but it is just so, so heartbreaking!

“Ni-night, baby.”

What I like the most about your writing

Your characters are so full of life, they have their own personality, their flaws, they are loveable. Also, you get emotions out of me with your work, it's just wonderful!

A fic i'm excited for you updating/posting

Well, it's no secret that I hope to see an update on Blinded By The Fog...

Something I wish/hope you write

Anything that makes you happy ad comfortable!

If i've ever shared/talked about your fic to someone else

Yes, I did! Because you need to be praised! You're such a talent!

A fic I didn't expect to like so much

Arresting and arrested - I send you this ask but I didn't think to get THAT! And damn, it was so much better than everything I had expected. This man hanging from the Ceiling is plastered into my mind!

My dear @peyton-warren You have an alley in me and I will always do my best to support you. I know you're having a hard time. Just know that there are people who really love what you create! Because I do! 🥰

Found this in my inbox when i got a new ask tonight. This has been sitting there entirely too long . First of all thank you for your kind words and support. You know how crappy of a day I had today, and how many tears I shed. And this ask brought more tears to my eyes but for good reasons!

Your Favorite Fic of mine: I didn't know you started out with Hidden Sun, I am glad you liked that one. its one of my first here on tumblr and that first chapter holds a special place in my heart. I know how much you love Blinded by the Fog, you are my #1 cheerleader on that one, and I really appreciate as I try to get more of it out.

Your Favorite Chapter of a Fic of Mine: Chapter 4 of Blinded hits me more and more every time I reread it. And once I wrote your ask about the behind the scenes of how Sy was feeling, it is now a whole other level. I didn't intend for him to have so much feeling in that chapter, but man he breaks my heart too.

Something of mine you haven't read yet- I know that one is no longer true because you were able to help me brainstorm Chapter 8!

Whay you like most about my writing: Thank you hon. I honestly just write what the characters tell me to write, and I dont intentionally try to draw out emotions. I do love writing, and I love telling a good story. I am glad it comes across in the writing.

Writing you are looking forward to me writing/posting: It is no surprise at all you want me to post the next chapter of Blinded. And I appreciate your patience as I work through my own stuff as i try to get past this writer's block. And trust me, you will probably be the first person to know I when i finish that chapter.

something you wish I'd write: make me cry why don't you, Nina.

You telling others about my work: I don't think anyone has shared my work as much as you have, ever. I appreciate all of your support, and you telling others about my writing. It means so so much to me, more than you could ever know.

The fic that you were surprised by: I think that fic surprised many people, especially me. your prompt threw that scene in my head and I just wrote it down verbadum as I saw it in my brain. I need to get back to that. Tell the rest of the story that's in my head.

Again, Nina, I just I have no words for your support and how much it means to me. I keep saying thank you, and telling you it means the world to me, but even that does not cover how much you mean to me. Thank you, my friend from the bottom of my heart. You are a such a rare treasure and i value you so. Whether we are talking dogs, hairy titties, or fic, I always love seeing you pop up in my asks, dms and feed. Thank you for being you.

#asks #friends in my phone #geralt’s yenn #thank you #thank you so much

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mamamittens · 3 months

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Got a considerable amount of work done this weekend! Finished half of a secret project, shot down two au ends for sweet child, and even did laundry!

Feels weird knowing I've essentially cleared my schedule for quite a while since I'm not doing a Valentine's event this year. (Unless I change my mind but it takes a bit of planning to put it together so it's doubtful, sorry for those that were looking forward to it!)

I'm kind of hoping to focus on finishing my fics out this year, actually. The ones I've got started that is. I've got... 8 fics according to AO3 and the oldest hasn't been updated since 2018...

Yikes...

ANYWAY!

Here's to hoping I can manage to finish all of them out! And then I'll be clear to start all new ones so the cycle begins anew ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

Who knows, may throw an event to celebrate (after a break for the surprising accomplishment, that is)!

Oh! Oh! And catch up to OP, which will be... A feat for sure despite being a fast reader, I just need to sit down and get it done lol, definitely not an afternoon sort of thing!

I'm... Likely going to give the oldest fics priority since they have been waiting the longest, so please do keep in mind my rule on inquiring about updates. Or perhaps I'll take the serotonin/inspiration boost from the very kind commentary on a slightly newer fic and pop out chapters for that? I'd honestly forgotten about the fic and thought everyone else did too, so it's sweet to know there's still such sincere interest in it.

Well, I need to go to sleep now lol, busy week ahead at work!

#mittens update #for those curious #two in fnaf #one in op #two in Undertale #and one in hollowknight #all with ocs! cause thats ny bread and butter lol

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sherl-grey · 1 year

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For the get to know your fic writer meme: 2, 11 (I don't know if it means of your works but that's what I wanna know), 16, 28, 40 & 65? Sorry I got a lil carried away

hello friend, thanks for the ask!! realized i reblogged this without access to a laptop and had to wait til i had mine again to answer 😂 but here we go! (Also don't apologize, these are fun! Mostly I'm sorry because I can't answer briefly like a normal person, and this response is probably going to take up a lot of space, lol.)

2. Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?

I don't have too many multichapter fics, and I think they've all been done differently, haha. "love don't roam, but occasionally it wanders off" was mostly outlined in advance. "the rose-pond swap" was me messing around at the beginning, but then people read it (lol, how dare people read this) and I frantically tried to plan the rest of it (and we can all see how that went 😂). "the weight of words" has the barest skeleton of an outline just to keep track of the canon timeline, but otherwise is just being made up. "my mind turns your life into folklore" was written on a complete whim, no thoughts head empty just eightrose. (I think we can infer here that planning worked best, but alas, it also appears that I'm bad at that.)

11. Link your three favorite fics right now (I don't know if it means of your works but that's what I wanna know)

😅Desperately going to try to remember what the heck I've written...

gravity like a lunar landing - Twelve is a major challenge to me, and I'm really proud of this because I think I managed to properly explain the way I see him in this one

Barcelona: Where No Doctor Has Gone Before! - Is the plot good? no. However, there are five Doctors, and it was fun, and even if I wish I'd planned it better, I'm fairly pleased with the result.

a more literal method of compartmentalization - I suspect this will always be one of the ones I'm most proud of, in that I knew what story I wanted to tell and somehow I got there? Wrote this in a sleep-deprived haze so no clue how that happened, but I'm glad it did!

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

Technically speaking, a lot. Things I'm actually thinking about writing? Maybe like... 5? 2 are Spotify asks from the frickin 2021 Wrapped game and YES I've started I swear 😂😅 I just got stuck. Various other people/conversations have had me revisiting like 4-5 things I'd jotted down in the past (Eight chameleon arch, a tenrose Bridgerton thing, a sequel to something, an out-of-order thing). Uhh, in non-DW news, I've got a Hellcheer thing I really want to write that's mostly about "right person, wrong timing" angst (with a happy ending because it's me, lol).

28. On average, how much writing do you get done in a day?

Most days, I don't write. When inspiration strikes, anywhere from 500 - 2000 words, probably. On a few rare occasions, I've just cranked out the whole story in one sitting, but I don't generally have time for that nowadays.

40. If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

This is such an interesting question... I've never really even considered this. I think one of the scenes I most consciously decided to try to make pretty is the Woman Wept scene in LDRBOIWO (that is a bad acronym lol), so that could be nice? I'll have to think about this more!

65. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

Honestly, at the moment the thing I'm most hopeful about writing is the Hellcheer thing mentioned in 16. DW-wise, though, I really want to go update all of my WIPs sometime soon, and I want to get at least one of the songfics done--I feel like I'll feel way less guilty about starting new projects if I wrap up some of the outstanding ones.

#ask game #asked and answered #thanks Ace!!#nerdie-faerie #this was fun. haven't done one of these in a long time!

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july-19th-club · 1 year

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thing i think i realized about book of gold tonight: because it's been two years since i've updated, i and my writing style/skill level have changed so significantly that i no longer feel hyped up about writing the fic whenever i sit down to do it simply because what i already wrote doesn't ever mesh with what i currently try to write for it. i put the cart before the horse the first time i tried posting it, and got ahead of myself planning-wise and inevitably ran up against a point past which i hadn't come up with any text, and then time passed and i now only look at it and see ways in which i want to edit it. in order to go forward i have two options: ignore all that and allow the discordance in the two different versions of my writing to just be there....in the fic....OR start a separate book of gold, updated version, and work from there.

and i think i really prefer the second option, if only because i can't stand it when my writing is inconsistent or when i leave in bits of work that i consider less good. i think i'd still leave the old book of gold up, i just wouldn't update it anymore and it would exist as a sort of 'process document'. then i'd get to work editing the existing material/building new material for the second take on the fic, and when i was MORE THAN HALFWAY FINISHED i could start posting it. but not until then, because posting on an update schedule without having the full text more or less figured out was what got me in trouble the first time

#also sorry the one ao3 reader who wanted more steve. there's never gonna be more steve. i just dont get him or care much about him #that's all #book of gold #writing tag

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kinetic-elaboration · 3 months

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January 14: Writing Updates

I've been sitting here for about half an hour, trying to come up with a short ficlet idea but I don't think it's going to happen. I keep moving farther away from concrete ideas and closer toward spacing out and sleepiness. And I do still want to work on the drawer fic.

I did write today, and now I am only two (2!) scenes away from finishing the draft of the Time Loop fic. So close, so close. I'm not too concerned about when I finish those scenes but I feel pretty confident it will be this month. (Probably just cursed myself saying that haha, but it's a pretty reasonable suggestion given my current pace.) I've also started editing Ch3. It's the longest of the 5 so it might take me a while but again, I just no longer feel any sense of urgency or worry about this project. I see the end in sight. It will all be done eventually. It is fine.

I have also been rolling some ideas around in my head for the Hey, Sweetheart challenge. I haven't officially signed up and I don't know that I'll actually write anything but it's on my mind.

I've been keeping up with the drawer fic still, though I do feel a bit like I'm continuing now out of a concern for breaking my streak, more than because I'm looking forward to working on it each night. I'm a little afraid of running out of ideas soon, too. My original fantasy-story definitely want on a lot farther than where I am now, but the thing is I don't remember most of the ideas past where I am now. And that is starting to make me nervous. But I guess something has to. I still do want to continue writing this, I think I just need to run the fantasy again. I haven't touched it recently because I felt like I was getting waaaay ahead of myself, which I suppose I was. Hence the forgetting.

Anyway, I do think that having this regular low-stakes writing session in an environment that is relaxing to me has helped me with my other writing. I feel so much more chill about it. I think it's because even though the 'real' writing and drawer fic processes are very different, I'm still creating every day and so when I sit down on the weekend to work on a WIP, I'm not gearing up from a complete and total standstill like I did in the past.

So, I think after I finish the Time Loop draft and anything I may or may not do for Hey, Sweetheart, I will move on to the old Jonty fic. It will probably be way harder than I'm yet wiling to acknowledge but I'd really like to take something short-ish off the WIP list, especially since most of the ideas that really interest me are... not short. LOL.

I am excited to be down to two Time Loop scenes. I kind of doubt I'll work on it tomorrow... but still, only two. Only two and a lot of editing. Exciting, exciting.

#the year 2024 #2024: writing thoughts

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geneeste · 6 months

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Stargate SG-1 Fic: reclaim (the destiny rules remix) (1/1), Teen

Sam/Jack. This isn't actually a new fic. I'm updating my Tumblr fanfic page and realized that I'd never actually put this on here, so here we are!

@amaradangeli asked me what I would write if I could make an alternate ending to Forfeit. Well, here it is. Thanks for waiting an embarrassingly long time for it. <3

Because this fic is very different from Forfeit, I'm considering it a remix. You don't have to read Forfeit to understand this one (and mind the warnings of that fic if you do decide to read it).

Many sincere thanks to @sharim28 for the beta. She's wonderful. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

-----

She’s supposed to be on vacation by now.

She’s been thinking about a trip on her motorcycle for a month already; her plan is to ride into New Mexico, or maybe Utah. She hasn’t decided yet, but she’s got almost two weeks and this time she doesn’t want to stay at home.

The General asked them to meet in the briefing room at the last minute, and it had only taken minutes for Daniel and the Colonel to start fidgeting and checking their watches. She thinks that Daniel has a conference in Chicago he’s anxious to attend (although she suspects that, like her, he's just ready to get out of Colorado), and she guesses that the Colonel is going fishing. She's stopped asking, and he's stopped telling her.

She’s just about to clear her throat pointedly at the Colonel’s incessant tapping when the General walks into the room with a folder in his hand. The look on his face as he sits has her mentally kissing her Indian goodbye.

Apparently the Colonel has the same impression. "Sir..." His tone is borderline insubordinate, but that's normal.

A corner of the General's mouth turns up, but he sounds regretful. "I'm sorry, Colonel. The Redalians are asking for a renegotiation of the mining rights agreement."

To her left, Daniel sighs. "Why?"

"Their planting season is approaching. They've noticed some unanticipated runoff on their fields from the nearby naquada mines, and they're concerned that it will adversely affect crop growth."

Daniel's ready to go, but it's obvious he can understand the Redalians' concerns. "They want us to shift our mining operations before the season starts?" At Hammond's nod, Daniel sighs. "That sounds reasonable. But?"

She pipes up then. "But our surveys so far show the naquada deposits are concentrated in one area. We've been taking samples from areas outside the city, but so far we haven't discovered any deposits large enough to warrant mining."

"So setting up shop somewhere else isn't an option, then?" The Colonel asks, brows raised.

"No," the General replies. "In the meantime, the Redalians have shut down the mining operation, effectively cutting off one of our largest sources of naquada."

"Which has the Pentagon up in arms,” the Colonel finishes. Sardonically enough that she has to smile down at the table.

"Yes. We're agreeing to immediate negotiations in the hopes that we can resume operations as soon as possible."

Beside her, Daniel is leaning forward. "Where do we fit in?"

"SG-1 was the team who negotiated the original agreement, so you're the most familiar with the situation."

She's suppressing another grin as the General raises his hand to forestall whatever the Colonel is about to say. "However, because it's been some time since SG-1 as a team has had downtime, I'm assigning SG-2 to the negotiations. Having said that, I'd still like one of you to accompany them to the proceedings."

"General"-

"Colonel, the Redalian leadership knows you. They trust you. SG-2 is very capable of handling this, but I believe the presence of a member of SG-1 at the negotiations would make them more comfortable with whatever compromise we reach. Since Teal'c has already left to visit his son, that leaves one of you."

The General taps his papers on the table as he rises. "SG-2 leaves this afternoon at 1500. I'll leave it to your discretion to decide who will accompany them."

He says the last to the Colonel, and leaves the three of them standing in the briefing room. The Colonel looks at Daniel first.

"No." Daniel says firmly.

The Colonel just continues to stare. "You're the best qualified for this thing."

“Jack, I’ve already bought the tickets.”

She watches the Colonel watch the rest of his team. For a moment his eyes settle on her and she’s afraid that he’s going to order her to go.

But then he sighs heavily and shoves his hand through his hair. “Okay, no one wants to give up their downtime. I say we draw straws.”

It’s a reasonable solution to their problem. “Okay,” she relents. “Fair enough, sir.”

Daniel’s not as gracious. “Fine.” He sounds annoyed, and the bite in his voice tells her just how desperate he is to get it over with.

Colonel O’Neill disappears down the hall.

Daniel moves wordlessly to the window to stare at the stargate. She glances at him out of the corner of her eye, and tries to think of something to say that will make peace while they wait. “What’s in Chicago?”

“A three-day conference on Egyptology.”

She can’t help but raise her eyebrows. “Only three days? What do you plan to do with the other seven?”

“I don’t know, Sam. Go to the museums. Do some writing. Relax. Something completely unrelated to the stargate.”

The belligerence in his voice makes her blink in surprise. “Okay. I’m sorry.” She means it, although she’s not sure for what exactly she’s apologizing.

He winces as he turns. “No, it’s just”-

“Okay!” The Colonel sweeps into the room, ending whatever it was that Daniel was going to say. “Let’s do this.”

He puts his back to them as he lines up three straws of varied lengths in his hand. When he’s done, he offers them first to Daniel, who picks the last straw.

Sam draws next, and although the Colonel hasn’t revealed the straw he was left with, she knows immediately that she’s lost.

It’s definitely the short straw.

Relieved, Daniel tosses his medium-length straw into the trash. “Well…okay. I’m going to go ahead and go. I’ll see you guys in two weeks.” And then he’s out the door, obviously trying to get out of the mountain before something else comes up.

The Colonel, of course, is grinning. “Cheer up, Carter. This probably won’t take long. Two, three days tops, and then you can go do…whatever it is you do.”

She knows he’s kidding, really she does. But she can’t help but feel like she’s being dismissed, or patronized, or something, and she can’t explain it so she lets it go.

“Yes sir,” she replies on a sigh and watches him leave.

-----

She’s going to have to scream soon. That, or pass out.

She’s on a stretcher, and she can see the top of the stargate as they pass through. She doesn’t know who is carrying her, but she doesn’t really care as long as they stop moving soon.

She catches a glimpse of Griff to her left – he’s holding a bandage to his ear, which is bleeding so badly it has colored his neck black. He’d been lying next to her when the MALP was hit, and she remembers him trying to pull her out of the path of the blast. She hopes it’s not as bad as it looks.

Janet appears above her, and she tries to blink to get rid of the black dots swimming in the air. Then someone is squirting something wet and cold in her eyes. It burns. She has to squeeze her eyes shut to get them to stop.

She thinks Janet is saying something to her, can see her lips moving, but all she can hear is a weird sort of buzzing that drowns everything else out.

She feels herself being lifted onto something soft, a gurney maybe, and they are sliding her over and she’s going to scream soon. There’s a hand tugging at her arm, one at her good knee, and hands at her neck, and they’re turning her onto her side.

This time she does scream. Loudly. She knows because she can hear it.

She’s moving, and she’s fascinated by the lights as they whoosh above her. Eventually all she can see is the outlines of the people around her and it’s enough to send her into blackness.

Later (it has to be much later because the pain is dull and her face feels clean) she wakes and looks to her left. The Colonel and Teal’c are on the next bed watching her, and Colonel O’Neill pushes away from where he’s sitting on the edge to move over her.

She opens her mouth – she thinks she does – but nothing comes out. So she closes her eyes again.

The next time she wakes it’s because her right side feels like it’s being torn apart. She can feel the pain but she can’t move, and she’s terrified. It’s possible she’s crying, but she can’t be sure.

A long moment passes before Colonel O’Neill appears again, and she feels his hand on her arm, warmly pressing against the inside of her elbow. He’s talking, but not loud enough to push past the buzzing silence. He must figure out that she’s not taking anything in, because he stops and his eyes tighten in a way she’s come to recognize as concern.

He doesn’t move away, and she passes out again as his hand tightens on her elbow.

When she wakes again she knows it’s the last time. She’s not sure how much time has passed, but the infirmary is dark and there’s no movement that she can see. She’s having trouble processing things; she can think and see, but everything is slow and tight, like thread being pulled through closed fingers. She’s not as aware as she should be.

But she still feels his hand on her arm.

He’s in the same place he was before, only this time he’s sitting. His arm is outstretched, and her eyes follow the dips and lines of light along it to where his shoulders are level with the bed. His head is bowed.

She can sense Teal’c somewhere. The charge she always feels around him says he’s close, but she doesn’t see him. Knowing he’s there is enough.

She wants to move, and is surprised at the urge she feels to slide her hand over and into the Colonel’s hair. It’s a kind of comfort she’s never been able to give him. She really wants to give it to him now.

She wants to ask where Daniel is. Wants to take in the affection and passion that she’s always associated with who he is. But she remembers the way he was, and that’s enough too.

She tries to move her arm a little to get the Colonel’s, Jack’s, attention, and is dully surprised at how hard it is to manage just a wiggle.

It works immediately. His head jerks up, and he’s on his feet in a second looking down at her. He says something that she thinks is Carter, but she can’t hear it. She would panic at the knowledge, but the panic would be a waste of this precious energy.

This energy that is unnatural. She’s seen it before, and knows it won’t last.

She thinks: I am going to die. The thought is just there. I am going to die.

She thinks maybe that’s okay. What else is there to do? Maybe she knew it before, before the dark when the lights were rushing by, and then she thinks, before when? Before what? And she doesn’t know anymore.

But Jack is still standing over her, moving his hand to hers. He’s never held her hand before when she was in the infirmary. It makes her cry. She’s not sure if he sees so she tries her best to squeeze his hand, feels him return the pressure.

She can see his eyes, warm and sad. She’s glad for it even as she wishes she didn’t recognize the look in them. She uses up the rest of her energy on a painful smile and hopes he understands what she’s trying to tell him.

She falls asleep.

-—-

The power of an endless explosion sends Sam flying; she falls through the rushing darkness and there’s no sound and no ground and no tether, and she thinks this is dying--

But then there’s warmth, a hand holding hers. An anchor.

She clings to it and the rushing stops.

-—-

She wakes up on a Saturday. Jack is waiting beside her.

So many things happen around her after that, but she’s only vaguely aware of it; her hearing is slightly better in her left ear than when she came through the gate, but it might be completely gone in her right. She thinks her vision is clear but she’s so drugged up it’s hard to tell for sure. In the lulls between doses, agony spreads down her side from her ribs to her knee, and in those moments she wonders if the rushing darkness was a better choice.

Then those moments pass, and the Colonel’s eyes remind her why it wasn’t.

-—-

“Do you remember what I said to you before you left?” Daniel asks her one night, out of nowhere.

He’s sitting in an uncomfortable chair beside her bed, balancing two textbooks and a notebook on his lap, poised for work he’s not actually doing. He’s barely left her bedside since he got back from Chicago, like he’s afraid she’s going to disappear if he’s gone too long.

The days since Sam came back through the gate stretch and bend and turn, and it takes her a minute to even summon the idea of a ‘before.’ When she does, all she can picture is a briefing like they’ve always had, sitting next to Jack like she almost always did, waiting for a go.

“At the briefing?” she asks, wanting to cringe at the dull sound of her own voice.

“After the briefing,” he says. He’s still looking at his books, smoothing the pages down even though there aren’t any creases she can see. “I snapped at you.”

She looks inward, searches for the memory. It takes a while, because things don’t connect like they used to.

There’s a flash and a sting, and there it is. “The museums,” she murmurs. “You wanted to see the museums.”

His hand stills on the page. “Yeah. I wanted to see the museums.”

“Did you get to go?”

Daniel laughs. Or maybe he cries; the two don’t seem so different right now. “No.”

She studies him, the way his shoulders are hunched and he won’t look up. Unbidden, the last thing he said to Sha’re when she was still Sha’re rises in Sam’s mind, a cascade of connections she can’t stop now that they’re formed.

No no, I won’t be long.

She wonders at his fascination with words, at his obsession with having the right words. She wonders if it’s because of the terror that comes with thinking they’ll be the last thing he ever gets to say to a person he loves.

“Maybe when I’m out of here we could go,” she offers gently. She didn’t blame him for his feelings then, and she doesn’t blame him now. “You could give me the tour.”

She watches him swallow, watches him smooth out one last invisible wrinkle before he looks up at her. His eyes are red-rimmed, but bright. “I’d really like that.”

-—-

The day Sam is notified that she’s being medically retired from the Air Force, her father comes home.

They’ve been slowly preparing her for the transfer from the mountain to a VA rehab hospital in town, and now that she’s going to be a civilian soon, it becomes more urgent. Janet and a nurse are helping her sit up unsupported on the edge of the bed for the first time when Jacob appears, the Colonel lagging behind him.

Jacob stalls just short of reaching her, an arm’s length away, and stares.

She hasn’t seen a mirror in days, but she knows how she must look; bandages cover more of her than her gown, and she feels bruised and swollen everywhere she isn’t covered. It’s hard to look Jacob in the eyes, because they speak volumes: shock and sadness and something else she can’t name.

“Hey kiddo.” His voice is barely audible, but she hears it loud and clear: the something else becomes pride, and it’s that pride, more than the agony and the fear and the relentless fatigue, that overwhelms her.

“Dad,” she manages, and then she bursts into tears.

He folds her into his arms, gentle but enveloping, and she lays her head on his shoulder like she did as a little girl. She remembers she used to think he could hold her and the stars all at the same time, and how nothing scary could touch her when he did.

It’s just the same.

It hurts to cry, and she’s so tired, so she takes deep, hiccuping breaths through her tears. When she finally looks up, Janet and the nurse are gone, but the Colonel—Jack, now, for good—is in the same spot, staring at the floor.

-----

She settles into the rehab hospital, at least on the outside. On the inside, she feels more unsettled by the day.

Daniel and Teal’c come by often, so often that Sam wonders if they’re not going off-world at all. Her heart aches when she thinks about them stepping through the Stargate without her, and she’s ashamed to be glad they aren’t, so she doesn’t ask.

Jack visits too, although he never stays long when her father is around. There’s a strange tension between them that they seem unwilling to acknowledge, and she’s too busy trying to understand her new reality to figure out theirs.

Everything feels wrong. She’s finally able to wear something other than a gown, but her clothes don’t fit anymore, baggy in some places and stuffy in others. The bedsheets are both too soft and too scratchy. She’s able to eat more food but it tastes too different from the base infirmary’s. There are too many windows, so her room feels bright and shiny and she doesn’t, and she longs for the cool, unchanging dark of the mountain.

And even though she knows it’s not objectively true, she feels as weak as a baby. She can barely stand on her own, and even then she can't stand up straight because the pain and the pull in her abdomen make her weep. It’s a miracle she didn’t lose her right leg, but it’s near to useless now and even with the best possible outcome of her stay here, it’ll never never be as strong as it was before, function like it did before.

It’s like she slid sideways into an alternate reality, and at any moment she’s going to slide back into the right one, and all of this will be just a weird memory from somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be.

The feeling persists through her first week in the hospital and intensifies during the weeks that follow. She’s pushing and pulling herself through therapy that has her relearning how to do the most basic tasks. It’s exhausting and most of the time she doesn’t know what day it is unless her dad or one of her physical therapists mention it.

One day, several weeks into her stay, Teal’c appears unannounced in her room. He’s so large yet so silent that her physical therapist startles badly when she turns to find him waiting patiently behind her as she finishes up a session.

Teal’c tilts his head, confused by her reaction. The PT excuses herself, flustered, and the scene is just absurd enough that Sam smiles despite herself. Teal’c catches it and his dark eyes warm, and he bows a little in good humor.

For a brief moment, she feels almost normal. But then she tries to stand to greet him, moves too quickly and loses her balance amidst a sharp stab of pain that travels all the way up her side, and she has to stoop, lean back against the bed to catch her breath. Teal’c steadies her with a hand to her good hip, and the moment flees, that frustrating, twirling feeling of wrongness rushing back in to sap the levity away.

It’s just starting to warm up, the fickle Colorado weather teasing a beautiful Spring day, so Teal’c coaxes her outside in that gentle way he has—not imposing, but impossible to resist anyway.

She’s not strong or steady enough for walking aids yet, so he pushes her through the hospital garden in the wheelchair that’s become a sullen companion. She tries to find something in the landscape to ground herself in; some kind of connection, or maybe a sign that her world will right itself somehow.

There’s a storm threatening the horizon, still far away and lingering over the mountains. She watches the lightning jump from cloud to cloud, the waves of translucent gray underneath signaling oncoming rain, as Teal’c parks them in an area that overlooks the rest of the grounds.

He moves to stand beside her, not looking at her, instead following her eyes to the horizon. “You have been troubled for some time.”

She swallows. She doesn’t know what to say to describe it, how displaced she feels in her own mind, her own skin. She shifts restlessly, a half-shrug, hoping he’ll accept her silence instead of an answer.

But it’s Teal’c, and he’s never been afraid of silence in the way that humans often are; he’s always been willing to let others dwell in it if they need to, as long as they need to. He lays his hand on her back, his palm big and warm against her shoulder blade, and she can feel his patience, but also his expectation.

In the distance, the clouds rumble and roll. “This…it just doesn’t feel right,” she replies eventually.

“The hospital? It is my understanding that your stay here is temporary. You will grow stronger, and return home in time.”

“No, I don’t mean here.” She can’t help the frustrated tears that clog her voice. “I mean this,” she gestures angrily at the chair, at a body that will never be the same. “All of this. My life. It feels wrong.”

“I feel like-” she starts, and then stops just as quickly, trying to force out the thing that’s slithered through her thoughts since she woke up in the middle of the night with Jack holding her hand, anchoring her back to a world she’d let go of.

The only way to get it out is to whisper it. “I feel like I’m not supposed to be here.”

Teal’c doesn’t make a sound in reply, and when she can bring herself to look up at him, she sucks in a breath at what she sees. He looks like she’s gutted him.

He steps forward, and when he kneels in front of her wheelchair, she understands what a gift it is. Teal’c, who kneels for no one.

“Samantha Carter,” he tells her, softly enough that she has to lean in and turn her good ear toward him. “You are alive. You are with us.”

He reaches out and presses his fingers under her chin so her eyes are steady on his. “This is where you are meant to be.”

She grabs his hand, presses it against her cheek, closes her eyes. She holds him there for a moment, hoping his certainty will sink into her skin and she’ll believe it too. Then she opens her eyes again, nods, and lets their hands fall into her lap.

They stay like that for a long time, looking out at the mountains, until the storm forces them back inside.

——

Sam starts to dream.

Half the time, it’s not even related to the explosion on Redalia—sometimes she’s 30 floors below the desert clutching a dead little girl, sometimes she’s baking cookies in an empty house. And sometimes it’s just a deep, bottomless darkness enveloping her, cold wind pressing against her back as she descends.

When she wakes, she’s wild-eyed, her heart is racing, and the sheets make her feel claustrophobic. She’s left in bed for hours, staring at the light coming in under her door from the hallway, trying to convince herself that she’s really alive.

One morning following a bad night Jack arrives while she’s settling into the sofa in her room. She’s just walked the short way from her bed with her new forearm crutch, unassisted by her PT. It’s a small thing, but it was something she couldn’t do last week. Despite her fatigue, something finally feels like a victory.

He pauses at the door until she waves him in, and she must look as flushed and pleased as she feels, because he gives her a smile. It’s a rare, genuine one, and warmth spreads over her skin all over again.

“Good morning?” he asks as he sits in the chair beside her.

She nods proudly at the crutch resting against the cushion next to her leg. “I walked over here by myself.”

“That’s great.” Jack studies the crutch, a generic one the hospital provided. “That looks a little too station-wagony for you, though.”

She laughs a little. “I’ll work my way up to the corvette.”

She sighs, massaging her injured leg a little absently, and looks up to find him watching her, his eyes moving over her face.

He must see something there, because he tilts his head. “You okay?”

She shrugs one shoulder. “Just a rough night. Couldn’t sleep.”

He’s still watching her, closely enough that she has to resist the urge to squirm. “That happening a lot?”

She smiles, rueful, and shrugs again.

“You could call me,” he says softly, in the tone he uses when he knows he’s toeing a line that they don’t often cross.

She wants to accept the comfort, but habit has her giving him an out. “It’s okay. There’s no reason to keep us both up.”

”I want you to,” he tells her. “I’ll come keep you company.”

She can’t help the skeptical side-eye. “You’re going to get in here in the middle of the night?” She’s pretty sure the hospital has visiting hours, and the twilight hours aren’t among them.

To her amusement, he looks a little offended. “If I can infiltrate a goa’uld mothership, I think I can find my way into this place.”

She’s still skeptical and not a little unsure when she calls him the next night, after a particularly bad dream featuring Bynar. But true to his word, he shows up half an hour later with a pint of ice cream and a VHS full of Simpsons episodes. They finish the pint together, watch TV for hours, and when he leaves just before dawn, she’s dozing dreamlessly.

She doesn’t call Jack every night. She rations his attention like it's a resource that’ll run out at any moment, because she’s still not sure it won’t. Still, he always comes when she calls, always brings a snack because he knows she gets peckish late at night, always brings something that will distract her from whatever woke her up.

He never presses her to talk about it. In fact, they hardly talk about anything of substance at all, and the longer it goes on, the more trouble she has understanding what they’re doing. He clearly enjoys the time with her, but there’s something else underneath it.

Sometimes, when he thinks she’s asleep, he’ll just stand and watch her, and she can hear him take deep, measured breaths like he used to do in the field when he was enduring the pain of a bad wound.

Early one morning there’s an awkward (and, in hindsight, probably inevitable) moment where Jack crosses paths with her dad, him going out as Jacob’s coming in. She’d almost had a full night of sleep before the darkness had terrorized her, so she hadn’t called him until very late. Jack stays longer than he normally does, just sitting with her until she’s drowsy enough to fall back asleep, and she’s just on the cusp of it when her father's low voice rouses her.

“O’Neill,” Jacob says.

“General,” Jack replies, just as stiffly.

She doesn’t open her eyes completely, just enough to see them both under her eyelashes. Jack’s back is to her, but she can see her father stalled in the doorway, looking between her bed and Jack.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have a team to lead?” Jacob asks, in a way that’s so obviously taunting that a bolt of unease brings her back to wakefulness.

There’s several long beats of silence. “No. I’m where I’m needed.”

“Are you, now?” her father asks quietly.

“Yes. I am.” Jack looks over his shoulder at her. She can’t make out the look on his face. “She’s had a long night. You should let her sleep,” he says, then he steps around Jacob and disappears.

She closes her eyes before her father moves again, and neither man seems to have noticed that she was awake, but she still expects one of them to at least mention the encounter in the days after. Neither does, and it’s another piece in a frustrating puzzle, because she hasn’t even begun to form its edges.

She finally breaks a week later. It’s two in the morning, and Sam’s sitting up in bed, absently chewing a pretzel while Jack sets up a game of chess on a bedside table they’ve pulled over. Jack’s elected to sit close tonight, right next to her on the bed so that his thigh warms hers.

He’s working in silence, taking his time, and she takes the opportunity to really look at him. She wonders if he’s having nightmares too, if maybe he needs the companionship as much as she does.

He looks tired.

“Hey,” she says gently, putting her hand on his knee where it rests against her hip. “Why are you here?”

He gives her a look. “You called me.”

“Jack,” she chides. Somehow she’s certain he’s being deliberately obtuse. “Why are you here? Why aren’t you going off-world? Daniel said he and Teal’c have been temporarily assigned to other teams. Did something happen?”

He freezes, the queen in his hand hovering over the board, and for a second it’s so quiet she can hear the ticking of the air conditioner coming through the vents in the ceiling. He sets the piece down on its square.

“Did something happen,” he repeats dully, staring at the chessboard.

Oh. She squeezes her eyes closed. “That’s—“

He slides his hand over her arm to the sensitive skin inside her elbow. The sensation of calluses on her skin stops the words in her throat, and she watches as his index finger lightly touches a jagged, bright pink cut that’s healed enough to be heading towards a scar.

“I’m taking some time. Extended leave. It was that or retirement,” he says, pulling back and continuing to set up the board. He doesn’t look at her. “Hammond chose leave.”

She blinks rapidly. “Will you tell me why?”

He picks up the last piece, a black pawn, and places it carefully on the board. His eyes flick up at her, then back down at his lap.

He shakes his head, once, and then turns the chess board toward her. “White goes first.”

She swallows, then squeezes his knee. “Okay,” she says, and considers her first move.

—-

Getting used to the forearm crutch is slow-going. Every day she uses it for a little longer, but today she and Dad aren’t walking far; just from the door to the garden, around the even-tiled terrace with it’s beautiful view, and then back inside. They’ve barely made it to the terrace and already she’s a little breathless.

Sensing her fatigue, her Dad starts to curl his hand under her arm to support her, and she shakes him off with a jerk and an irritated glance. He puts up his hands to show he’s backing off, and she sighs.

She’s learning a whole new rhythm for walking, moving her still-healing leg in time with the crutch, adjusting to a more limited gait while keeping her balance, and it’s exhausting. That along with the slow pace is making her impatient and short-tempered. She’s so tired of being tired.

Still, she’s trying not to ruin the time she still has with her Dad, so she takes a deep lungful of air and blows it back out again. “Sorry,” she mumbles, and out of the corner of her eye she sees him smile a little in reply.

The Tok’ra have been calling, so to speak, and she knows through Daniel that they’ve been putting pressure on her father to resume his duties on the High Council. It’s been months, so it makes sense. That doesn’t mean she’s ready for him to go.

“When do you have to go back?” Sam asks, trying to hide the breathlessness in her voice.

“Who says I have to go back?”

“Dad,” she admonishes. “I love having you here, you know I do. But I also understand if you need to get back. I know how important your work is to you and Selmak.”

He puts a hand on her elbow to bring them both to a stop, and it’s Selmak who speaks. “Nothing is more important to your father than you. Nor to me.”

Because she can’t talk through the rush of emotion that prompts, she leans up and kisses his cheek instead. This time, she’s the one to put her arm through his as she resumes walking. “So what are you going to tell them?”

“That we’re the oldest and wisest among them, and we’ll return when it’s time to return, and not a minute before,” Jacob says, and she grins at his stubbornness. Knowing him, it’s exactly what he’ll say.

“What about you?” he asks.

She frowns a little. “What about me?”

“You’re healing, making progress. The doctors are already talking about your transition out. Have you thought about what you want to do once you get home?”

General Hammond has made it clear that she has her pick of jobs—whatever she decides she wants, he’ll make it happen. It’s not that she isn’t grateful—it’s a huge privilege to have an advocate in someone like the General. But she tries to picture herself in her poorly-lit lab, floors away from the Stargate and any action, studying technology other teams have discovered. Then she tries to imagine standing in front of a classroom full of cadets bored by formulaic math, just trying to pass a class on their way to pulling Gs.

Neither of those pictures fit. When she thinks home, she pictures the gate room, walking up the ramp and trying not to laugh at the Colonel and Daniel‘s banter, the cold, thrilling embrace of a wormhole, the foreign smells and sounds of a new planet.

But that doesn’t fit anymore, either. That won’t be home ever again.

So she shrugs, tight-lipped. “I don’t know. I think it’s too early to think about it.” She can practically feel her father’s disapproval, so she deliberately lightens the tone as they start around the other side of the terrace, back towards the entrance to the hospital. “But the guys are apparently planning a big ‘breakout bash.’ I’m told there’ll be cake and barbecue. Jack’s even agreed to keep his beer off the steaks.”

Her father’s arm tenses against hers, and he flexes his neck a little in annoyance. “How thoughtful of Colonel O’Neill.”

The subtly derisive tone, the way he emphasizes Jack’s rank, has her back up immediately. She certainly never thought her father would approve of the feelings she and Jack couldn’t acknowledge while they were in the same chain of command, but that’s not the case anymore, and his judgmental tone rankles. She slows down even more, forcing him to turn toward her. “Dad. Stop.”

“What? I said it was thoughtful, didn’t I?” he says with barely restrained belligerence.

He steps forward as if to continue toward the door, but she plants her feet and looks up at the sky for a moment in frustration. “Yeah, but you and I both know that’s not what you meant. I need you to get over this.”

“Get over it?” Jacob draws up sharply, expression incredulous. “Get over the fact that he completely abdicated his responsibility as a commanding officer and came very close to getting my kid killed?”

She’s stunned into silence, mind spinning. She’d thought the tension between the two men had been borne out of her father's discomfort with her burgeoning closeness with her former CO, but this? This is so much worse. “That’s not what happened.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No,” she says, horrified. “We all agreed to draw straws. It could have been any of us.”

“It should never have even been an option,” he says, nearly yelling, his eyes hard. “Jack was the officer in charge, and he should have been the one to go on that mission. He didn’t. He’s the reason you’re here.”

“Yeah, Dad,” she says, voice high and thready because her throat aches with all the truth she can’t say. She can’t tell him about those last few moments—how she’d accepted death, how it felt like being torn apart but also a little like falling asleep, and how, if it hadn’t been for Jack’s eyes and Jack’s hand and Jack’s absolute refusal to let her go, she would have just kept falling. “He is.”

Birds sing in the trees, and the wind whips her hair into her face while she and her father look everywhere but at each other.

“I don’t understand how you can just forgive him for this,” he finally says.

She shakes her head, turning into the wind to cool her face. Then she meets his eyes so he knows she means it. “I don’t need to forgive him.”

Jacob doesn’t respond, just stares at her, jaw ticking.

There’s nothing left to say, so she passes him, covering the remaining distance to the door alone.

——

The day she’s released from hospital the guys come to pick her up in Janet’s minivan.

It doesn’t take them long to load up what Dad hadn’t already taken to her house, so they all pile in and wait patiently while she eases herself into a seat. Then she looks at Teal’c in the seat next to her, his knees pressing into the back of the driver’s seat, cowboy hat crushed up against the roof, and she laughs until she cries.

They take her straight to Jack’s house for the party. When Daniel suggested having it the same day she was discharged, she’d really only agreed because he seemed so excited about it. Secretly, she’s been afraid it would be too much, that she’s changed too much to enjoy it.

Now it’s time to find out if that’s true.

Jack comes around to help her out of the van, and keeps hold of her arm as they walk up. She lets him.

As they get to his front door, she sees a gently-sloped ramp covering the steps to his door and she stops them both in surprise. When she looks up at him, he shrugs. “Figured it’d be easier at first.”

Daniel pauses too, then throws a look at Jack as he passes that she can’t decipher.

Inside, Cassie is practically hovering in the entryway. “I thought you’d never get here. You drive that van like a grandpa.”

Jack looks indignant. “I do not,” he tips his head at Sam as he hangs up their coats. “You’re just used to Carter driving like she’s in NASCAR.”

She hasn’t driven anything in an eternity. “Please, F1 at least,” she says when she finds her voice. “Only Marines can’t make anything but left turns.”

Then she lifts the arm not holding her crutch, and Cassie rushes right into it. Sam feels Jack’s hand on her back, steadying her when the motion threatens to push her off balance.

Cassie had visited her in the hospital a few times, but it hadn’t been the same. Sam only needs to dip her head a little to press her cheek into the top of Cassie’s head, and the herby smell of her shampoo, of all things, makes her tear up. “Oh, I missed you.”

There’s pain where Cassie squeezes her around her waist, but Sam doesn’t care. “I missed you too,” Cassie says, muffled against her shoulder.

Sam lets herself hold Cassie for another few moments, then lets her go with one last squeeze. “I hope you’ve been supervising?” she asks brightly as Cassie steps back.

“Yep,” Cassie replies, grinning at Jack. “I made Teal’c promise to watch the grill.”

“Oh, go make yourself useful somewhere,” he retorts, pushing her playfully down the hall in front of him, Cassie snickering all the way.

Sam follows at her own pace, and gets distracted by the living room. Jack has rearranged it to fit another ramp on the steps leading down, and for a minute she’s stymied by it.

Daniel steps up beside her, puts his arm around her. They look down at Jack’s living room.

She gestures at it. “Did you know he was doing this?”

“Uh, no. This is the first I’m seeing it,” he says. And then there’s that look again. “But I can’t say I’m surprised.”

She frowns at him, but he just squeezes her shoulder, and goes outside to help Teal’c.

She blows out a breath, then turns and makes her way to the kitchen. She finds Jack there, arranging the potluck-style dishes, putting serving spoons next to them for when it’s time to eat. He has the look of someone doing busywork to avoid having to interact with other people. She can relate.

Still, when he looks up and sees that it’s her coming in, his shoulders seem to relax a little. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she replies, leaning against the counter opposite him. She props her crutch up next to her, pulls her arm out to give it a rest.

“You want a drink?”

“Please,” she says gratefully, rubbing her wrist lightly. He goes to the fridge and pulls out a diet coke for her and a beer for himself. It’s not the beer she suddenly longs for (and can’t have, thanks to her medication), but it’ll do.

She opens the can, takes a sip. It burns going down, but in a good way. She fiddles with the tab, pushing it right and left. Jack opens his beer, flicking the top into the trash in the corner—impressive—then settles across from her, watching her.

“Thank you for…everything,” she tells him. “You’ve been so thoughtful, I…” she stops, laughing a bit at her own stumbling. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he tells her quietly. “I want you to be comfortable here.”

Something in his voice makes her look up sharply, searching his face. There’s an intensity there that makes her pulse start to run.

He puts his beer down onto the counter and steps toward her, reaching out to touch her arm. “Carter—”

“General Hammond is here,” Janet says from the doorway, startling Sam and making Jack drop his hand.

Janet leans in further, looks more closely at the two of them. “Sorry. Am I interrupting something?”

Jack smiles tightly. “No.”

Sam straightens. “We’ll be right there, Janet.”

Janet raises an eyebrow, but nods. “Okay,” she says, leaving with one last disbelieving look at Sam.

Sighing, she threads her arm back into her crutch and goes to greet the General, Jack following.

It’s always strange to see him in plain clothes, the man who’s been a giant in her life since she was a little girl. Stranger still, because their relationship, like everything, has changed yet again, she’s not sure how to navigate it now when it isn’t governed by military courtesies.

“Sir,” she and Jack say simultaneously, and for some reason it makes her cringe.

The General seems amused by them both. He and Jack shake hands. “Jack, thank you for hosting.” Then he turns back to Sam and places his hands on her shoulders.

She straightens under his review. She has the strongest memory of being 8 years old and standing at attention in front of him, trying to impress him with how still and serious she could be. She remembers how he hadn’t laughed as other men might have, but had taken her shoulders just like this and nodded with approval.

At ease, Sam.

“I’m glad to see you, Sam,” he tells her gently.

The pride in his voice is unmistakable, and she can’t help but lean in for a hug. “You too, Uncle George,” she whispers. He pats her back in response, then pulls back.

When he steps around her and Jack to join the others, she looks back toward the door and finds her father waiting on the threshold.

His presence is so unexpected that for a few seconds Sam can only stare. He’d left the hospital before the guys had shown up, and Sam had assumed that was intentional, that he was still too angry with her and with Jack to stick around, even to celebrate her homecoming.

And yet, here he is.

She risks a look at Jack. He’s standing close to her side, like he used to when he sensed trouble deep in the shadows of the trees, and he looks so braced that Sam’s heart runs up into her throat.

She opens her mouth to say something, anything, to prevent this from escalating into something they can’t come back from, but Jacob cuts her off before she can begin.

“I’m not over it,” he says, as rigid as he was that day on the terrace. “I don’t know that I’ll ever be. I’m sorry, Sam.”

The sound of happy chatter, clanging plates wafts in from behind them, punctuating the bubble of discord around them. “Dad—”

“But I think I can manage a beer,” he tells Jack, surprising her again. “If you have room for one more.”

It’s not an olive branch. That might never come. But Jacob is trying, and he’s doing it for her, and it might be the best she can hope for right now.

Ultimately, though, it’s not an offer that’s hers to accept, and she can only stand silently, waiting for Jack.

“Of course,” Jack says beside her, at length. “There’s always room for you, Jacob.” It’s guarded, but honest, and Sam releases a breath she didn’t even know she was holding.

Jacob nods, kisses her cheek, then follows General Hammond’s path through the house.

She and Jack linger, as if to recover their bearings in the aftermath of her father.

Jack clears his throat. “I guess I better get him that beer.”

She gives a strangled laugh, reaching out for his arm. She wants to thank him for being so good with her dad, despite how poorly he’s treated Jack, but somehow she knows that’d be the wrong thing to say. Instead, she squeezes his arm and hopes he gets what she’s trying to convey.

He seems to. He covers her hand, squeezes, then lets go.

They go back to the party.

—

She mingles, talks to as many people as she can. The guest list turns out to be fairly small, just people she works closely with on base (she’s sure she has Jack to thank for that), and it’s genuinely wonderful to see them all. But by the time she’s made the rounds and people start filing out, Sam’s exhausted.

She’s said goodbye to her dad, who left with General Hammond earlier, and to Daniel and Teal’c just a few minutes ago.

Now it’s just Janet and Cassie left, so she walks them to the door. Janet’s eyeing Sam’s posture judgmentally, and this time she can’t blame her. Her leg aches, and she knows she’s overdone it on the standing because she can feel the muscles in her back cramping and her crutch arm is sore. She knows she probably looks as worn out as she feels.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” Janet asks again.

Sam looks over her shoulder into the house, where she catches a glimpse of Jack cleaning up, giving them space to talk. She turns back to Janet and smiles. “I’m good.”

“Okay. You have all your medication?” Janet asks, in full doctor mode.

“I do,” Sam replies dutifully.

“Good. Please actually take it.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, Dr. Frasier.”

“I saw that,” Janet chides, gives Sam a hug, then moves outside so Cassie can too.

“Have fun,” Cassie whispers suggestively in her ear before she lets go.

Like that’s even an option for her right now. “Goodnight, Cassie,” she replies, stepping back.

Cassie winks as Sam closes the door behind them.

Sam sags against the door. It was a good day, but a long one, and all she wants to do is sit and rest and catch her breath. She sighs, straightens up, intending to go back to the living room, but then her eyes fall on her coat.

A few minutes of peace on Jack’s porch sounds like exactly what she wants, so she grabs it and heads back. She doesn’t see Jack on the way, but she figures he knows where to find her.

The cool air hits her face as soon as she steps outside and she sighs again, this time happily. There’s a cushioned chair set not too far away from where the wide steps open out into the yard, so she picks that one, groaning as she lowers herself down. She lets her crutch drop the short way to the wood, and stretches her right leg out as far as it will extend.

She’s always loved this porch, and not just because of the good memories the team’s made here, of which there are many. She loves it because it’s another example of Jack’s dedication; it’s a reminder of how hard he worked to build something solid, something that can withstand bad weather and a shifting earth. Kind of like SG-1.

The door slides open behind her.

“Sorry,” she says, not turning around. “I just needed some air.”

“I can’t imagine why,” he says, coming up alongside her. “It’s been nothing but roses and jokes since you got here.” His wryness makes her smile.

He sighs. “We probably shouldn’t have let Daniel do this today.”

She shrugs. “I don’t think it would have been easier any other day.”

He tips his head in concession, taking a swig of the beer he brought out with him.

The sun is setting, throwing pink light over the porch and the green grass that smells like he mowed it today. She breathes in, lets the crisp air fortify her.

“What were you going to say, before, in the kitchen?” she asks before she loses her nerve.

Jack puts his beer up on the railing, turning it and watching the light reflect and fracture on the wood underneath the glass.

“I hear Hammond offered you R&D in Nevada,” he says.

Her brows furrow. She’s not sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t that. “Among other options, yes.”

“Are you going to take it?”

She shifts, uncomfortable in a way that has nothing to do with her leg or the chair. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s an amazing opportunity. It would’ve been even before…all of this. And sometimes I think a fresh start might be best.”

Jack’s gone still; even his fingers are frozen on the bottle. When he speaks again, his voice is strained. “I know I let you down.”

She’s unprepared for the jolt of pain that lances through her, and she has to suck in a breath just to get through it. “That’s not true.”

“It is. I did,“ he says, and she can’t see his face, because he won’t look at her, but she can see his throat working in profile. “And I know it’s not fair to ask you to stay, but I’m asking anyway.”

It’s strange, because her lungs feel so heavy that she feels like all the air has disappeared, even in the openness of the backyard. “Jack.”

He finally turns, and to her shock, kneels on the deck in front of her. His eyes are eloquent. “You can do whatever you want. Teach at the Academy and scout candidates for the program. Consult on base and be the head geek. Ditch it all and work on your Indian all day. Whatever it is you do—” his voice breaks, she breaks too, because she knows they’ve been carrying those words around and the weight nearly killed them both. “Whatever it is you do, Carter, do it here. Do it with me.”

She touches his cheek, and he makes a pained noise, closing his eyes and turning his face into her hand. Emotion has closed her throat, making words impossible, so she leans forward and kisses him instead.

Jack responds immediately, sitting up and pressing her back into the chair. He opens his mouth to hers and she can taste his desperation, feel it in the way his arms come up and around her, pulling her as close as he can get her. She strokes a hand through his hair, wraps her other arm around him, finds him trembling.

When he pulls away and presses his forehead against her chest, Sam tucks her cheek against his hair and just holds him. “I’m here,” she whispers, and he shudders. She blinks hard over burning eyes. “We’ll be okay.”

They breathe together for a long time, until the pink light shrinks to the horizon and the crickets start to chirp.

“Can I stay here tonight?” she asks lowly.

He kisses her collarbone. “You can stay as long as you want.”

“Good,” she says, pulling away slightly. “Because I think I might live in this chair now.”

He laughs, that gratifying, huffing laugh he has, and pulls back. He reaches up, runs his thumb under her eye, wiping away moisture. He scans her face, and she lets him look, hoping he finds whatever he needs there.

He must, because he smiles a little. “Come on, let’s get you inside,” he says, grunting as he stands.

“Are you sure you can make it?” she teases.

He holds out his hands for her, and she takes them. “We’ll manage,” he tells her, and his voice is steady and sure.

She believes him.

——

She doesn’t take the job in Nevada.

In the end, she decides to return to the mountain, leading the science and research division as the world’s foremost expert on the Stargate.

And it’s everything she feared: it’s awkward and uncomfortable as she finds her place there as a scientist instead of an airman. Sometimes the longing to step into a wormhole one more time is so strong that it’s a physical ache. Watching Jack and Daniel and Teal’c go through with someone that isn’t her will never stop being unsettling, no matter how much time passes.

But the fundamentals remain. The charge she gets from studying alien technology is as exhilarating as it ever was, and now she actually has the time to create, to make things that will protect the planet and advance the human race. She doesn’t know it yet, but one day she’ll watch the Prometheus lift out of the ground and ascend to the sky and then to the stars, and she’ll think: I built that.

Sam feels it all, the good and the bad. It’s solid and real and powerful and sometimes it hurts, but it feels right.

At the end of her first week back, it’s her job to give General Hammond and SG-1 a briefing on the properties of the planet they’re about to visit. She stands in front of the table, meets Jack’s eyes across the room, and warms from head to toe at the confidence she finds there. Daniel gives her that same knowing look, but this time she gets it and it takes all her willpower not to roll her eyes at him.

When she looks at Teal’c, he nods at her solemnly, but his eyes are shining.

You are alive. You are with us. This is where you are meant to be.

General Hammond enters the room, and SG-1 stands until he sits. When they’re all settled again, the General nods at her. “Doctor Carter, please begin.”

And she does.

#genie's stuff #sam x jack #stargate sg1 #fanfic #my fic #hurt/comfort #references to canon-typical violence #references to bynar #post-injury recovery #brief body dysmorphia #brief references to dissociation #angst #LOOK LOOK AMARA I DID IT FOR REAL THIS TIME #look what is fandom for if not to revisit your own fanfic 14 years later

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chosonore · 3 years

Text

part one | oblivion

oblivion [noun. the state of being unaware or unconscious of what is happening around one]

pairing: kamo noritoshi/f!reader

summary: your relationship with noritoshi was like a game of cat and mouse; no matter how hard you tried to escape from him, he would always find his way back to you.

wordcount: 3.9k

content/warnings: friends to enemies to lovers, language, noritoshi is kind of a dick but i promise it gets better so please don’t lose faith in him, we’re not strictly following the manga timeline bc while i am reading it, i do have a goldfish brain, lowercase intended

a/n: hello, here’s the first installment of my sanguine series! it’s the prequel of this drabble (nsfw) i wrote the other week while i was working on the outline of the fic. it’s a little slow burn because i wanted to spend some more time exploring their relationship and the groundwork for it, so yeah. i’ll try to update it regularly, but since i’ve only planned five parts for sanguine, it might take a while bc i want to take my time with it. if you want to stay updated with the series, i’ll post the masterlist to it shortly! i do hope you enjoy it though :) and stay safe, everybody! [tagging @sukirichi the sukuna to my yuuji, who just gets spammed when i start rambling about my aus but always screams with me (´• ω •`)]

masterlist - next

"y/n!" you look up to see miwa storming towards you, thrusting a book in your direction. "could you- could you please give this to noritoshi? i borrowed this book from him like a week ago and if i don't return this anytime soon, i think he's gonna kill me."

scowling at her, you look at the book in disdain. you wanted to avoid crossing paths with noritoshi as much as possible and miwa was well aware that you didn't like hi-

"please," miwa pleaded again, taking your hands and placing the book in it. "i'm really scared of him. he always looks like he's going to shoot me soon. even todo is pretty nice if you don't interrupt his takada-chan time!"

you sighed in annoyance, you just couldn't say no. ever since coming to the kyoto metropolitan curse tech, miwa and you had been pretty close because you strongly disliked the other students. most of them were arrogant and stuck-up, thinking they were better than the other; the two that belonged to the three clans were even worse. on your first day here you'd promptly gotten into a fight with mai, disliking how haughty she was and trying to prove everyone that she was better than them. much to your chagrin, the fight ended in a tie.

"fine, but you owe me some mango," miwa's face lit up in relief and she gave you a thumbs up before dashing to her room, most likely to escape noritoshi's wrath. you inspected the book. was it even worth returning it? maybe you could just throw it in the trash. if noritoshi ever found out, he'd kill miwa first and then you. you let out another sigh before making your way towards the training grounds. he most likely was outside to practice, either with one of the guys or alone. as you were nearing the training grounds, you could already hear the sound of arrows whistling and the dull thuds of them hitting the target. it was hard to spot him through all the trees; you weren't entirely sure where he was. your ears perked up when you heard him release another arrow until you realized that it was heading your way. this bastard. fortunately, you were able to slash the arrow clean in the middle, angrily pointing your sword in his direction. you still couldn't see him anywhere.

"you fucking idiot! you could've killed me," you snarled, stomping deeper into the forest. an amused laugh echoed through the trees.

"you're acting like i can't control my arrows. it's not my fault you let your guard down," noritoshi retorted smugly, lowering his bow as he saw you approaching. you were fuming, hurling the book at him. how dare he? you watched with satisfaction as it hit him square in the chest - who was caught off guard now, huh? he deserved it anyways.

"miwa asked me to return your book," you curtly explained and turned back around to leave but apparently, noritoshi had other plans. instead of saying anything else, he just followed you which unsettled you even more.

"stop following me."

"who said i was following you? i'm just going back to the dorms. i'm sorry you can't handle me being near you."

you whirled around, sword pointing dangerously close to his neck. he smirked at you triumphantly, it was just too easy to get a rouse out of you. "another word and i'll cut you, seriously. you're pissing me off," you gritted your teeth, hating that you always fell for his stupid games. he knew you all to well, what made you angry, what made you happy, what motivated you. once upon a time, you'd thought the same about him; until he changed so rapidly, so unlike your expectations. you were worlds apart and yet you'd reserved an ounce of hope that he wouldn't turn out to be as arrogant as the clan heads. swift as the wind, noritoshi grabbed your wrist, dragging it upwards and towards him until he could lean down to you. your heartbeat sped up - holy shit why was he so close to you - and you froze in shock.

"i'd like to see you try, princess," he whispered in your ear, the grip on your wrist tightening. "you wouldn't dare to."

the first time you met noritoshi, he was sitting outside in the garden with his mum. both seemed to have a good time. noritoshi's hair was tousled from the soft summer breeze and he had a soft smile on his face, happily munching away on the snacks that were displayed on the table. while he looked friendly enough, you were wary of meeting and talking to him because you felt kind of queasy around the kamo family. you couldn’t quite place a finger on the feeling, the older members of the family intimidating you to no end. much to your dismay, you felt like you had to be watchful - your parents worked for the kamo family, so naturally the apartment you lived in was close to the estate. you avoided any run ins with the adults, they weren’t exactly friendly to you. noritoshi’s mum had befriended your mum and they spent a lot of time together when possible. and yet you’d never met noritoshi before, seeing how busy he was with his various classes.

the fit that you threw, not wanting to tag along with your mum, was long forgotten when you’d spotted the jar of cookies on the table. before your mum could react, you pulled your hand away from hers and quickly ran towards it. “hello miss!” you greeted enthusiastically, your eyes shining at the sight of the sweets. “my name is y/n! i’m here with my mum and i uhm… could i have some of the cookies? please?” when your mum finally caught up to you, she scolded you quietly and greeted the other two, taking a seat beside noritoshi’s mum. you pouted, immediately climbing on her lap as you refused to sit next to the boy. his mum handed you a cookie which you happily took and thanked her politely. noritoshi was curiously eyeing you; it wasn’t often that he saw other children around his age and he didn’t have any friends to play with. his everyday life revolved around reading books, studying, taking archery classes and sometimes spending time with his mum. noritoshi barely even knew what fun was - he’d only ever felt at peace when he was around his mum.

“y/n, sweetie, why don’t you go and play with noritoshi?” your mum prompted but you immediately shook your head, hiding your face in her chest. she simply laughed and shook her head, brushing your hair back softly. “come on, noritoshi is really nice. you can be his friend one day, right? didn’t i tell you that friends are important?”

you frowned. then huffed. when she worded it like this, there was no way you could refuse. the cartoon that you religiously watched featured a group of friends that went on adventures and helped each other out. you’d told your mum that you wanted to be like that too! begrudgingly, you slid off her lap and trudged towards noritoshi who looked at you with big eyes. you held your hand out, waiting for him to shake it. “my name is y/n. uhm… nice to meet you,” you shyly whispered, eyes darting away from him.

it took a while until noritoshi reacted, shaking your hand gently and answering: “hello y/n, i’m noritoshi.”

much to your surprise, noritoshi was actually fun to be around with. he showed you his collection of books, the bow that he was practicing with and you often played the card game you’d received for your birthday together. he was smart and witty, often explaining you things that he’d read in a book but he was also attentive when he listened to you ramble about the other kids in school or when you told him about the cartoon that you were watching. for you, noritoshi was becoming your best friend - for noritoshi, you were his first friend. he cherished you and how unabashedly true to yourself you were. spending time with you was something he looked forward to; you always made him laugh and you didn’t care whether he lived up to the kamo family name or not. to you, he was simply noritoshi. you were like a fresh breeze of air in his life.

noritoshi didn't quite understand why the elders were always so hard on him, so strict and unrelenting. they expected only the best results from him and didn't show any understanding when he exhausted. he didn't enjoy practice anymore, the lessons becoming a chore and burden on his mind. but whenever he saw your face light up at his newly acquired skills, he thought it was worth the trouble. you came to visit him everyday after school, never skipping a day. sometimes he questioned why you weren't visiting your friends from school but you shook your head, poking his chest indignantly. "you're my best friend, 'toshi. of course i'd want to spend more time with you." noritoshi was glad you always chose him, without fail.

even though your parents had always warned you to be careful around noritoshi because his family was strict and didn't like outside influences distracting the heir, you never really strayed from his side. noritoshi didn't have any other friends, who would keep him company or listen to his troubles then? you didn't understand why your parents were suddenly going back on their word. they'd always told you that family and friends were important. you couldn't pinpoint your feelings for him - but your parents saw it. it was obvious; the stars in your eyes when you looked at him, the slight blush on your cheeks when he complimented you and how happy you were when you got to spend time with him. the more time you spent with him, the more they were worried for you.

"'toshi!" you yelled in excitement as you ran towards him, waving wildly. he dropped his bow and turned to you, a soft smile gracing his lips as he opened his arms to hug you. you squeezed him tightly. two weeks you hadn't seen him due to a school trip after which you got sick and weren't able to leave the house. you'd missed him a lot and you were excited to show him the souvenirs you brought him.

"look, i bought you an omamori!" you handed him the small object, then pointing on your bag to show him the one you'd bought for yourself. "i got myself a matching one too! my teacher said it wards off evil spirits and brings you luck." noritoshi's smile was bright, so bright. he was happy you thought of him and were always kind to him. your eyes widened as he leaned in to kiss your cheek before thanking you. the two of you were blushing, neither saying a word but not minding what had just happened.

the day noritoshi's mother left the estate was the day you were slowly starting to lose him. noritoshi grew more forlorn and didn't seem to easily find joy in anything anymore. the departure left a deep, deep gap in his heart. it had shocked him deep to the core when she left him. him. why couldn't she stay? why did she leave him when she was the only person who protected him, loved him? she did say that she was hindering his growth but who was she to decide that? he didn't want to become stronger, didn't want to protect other people like she'd told him to. he wanted to stay with her. "'toshi? 'toshi!" a concerned voice broke through his trance, pulling him back into reality. "i asked you a question! you weren't even listening to me."

you were pouting at him, tugging at his sleeve impatiently. noritoshi apologized, patting your head to soothe your temper. "what do you want to do in the future? mum said it's important to work towards your dreams!" you asked him curiously, grasping his hand to hold it. the gesture filled him with indescribable warmth, drawing him in like a moth to the flames. "my mum said i have a special power, i can heal people! i want to become a doctor in the future, so i can help everyone that got hurt," you explained to him so earnestly that he felt bad for the lie he was about to tell. noritoshi didn't have big dreams or ambitions just yet. he didn't even know what would be suitable to him - he was strictly following orders, never allowed to think for himself.

but when he looked at you, he only had one wish. "i think… i think i want to help people, protect them. especially those that i love."

with each year passing, you noticed that noritoshi was putting more and more distance between the two of you. at first you'd brushed it off as the stress of his training and number of classes he was attending. but as you spent less and less time together, the weight of the situation didn’t escape you. he was easily irritable, cold and arrogant, often rude towards employees of the kamo estate. every now and then when you’d scold him for being an asshole, he’d simply scoff at you and haughtily ask you how it was any of your business. you sighed, tossing and turning in your bed as you thought about how much noritoshi had changed. it kept you up at night, just thinking about how he wasn’t your ‘toshi anymore. you didn’t know this person. ‘toshi was always gentle and kind, he tended to overthink many things and sometimes he was a little bit of a crybaby but you still loved him regardless. you sneaked out of your room, finally mustering up enough courage to ask your mother for advice. the thought of her discovering your blooming crush on noritoshi was scaring you. your parents were wary around the kamos despite working from them - even more so ever since noritoshi’s mother left and the elders had free reign over her son.

“noritoshi! noritoshi, stop walking away from me! hey, i’m talking to you!” you yelled frustrated as you were trying to keep up with him. noritoshi was crossing the garden in long strides, it was nearly impossible to stop him as you couldn’t catch up to him. you lunged forward, getting hold of his sleeve and tugged him back harshly. noritoshi yanked his arm out of your grip, glaring at you annoyed.

“what do you want from me? i have better things to do than to quibble with you,” he hissed irritated. you couldn’t believe him, he had the nerve to dismiss you like this when he was in the wrong?

“you know exactly what i want from you! you can’t just go around and talk to people like you did before just because they’re not from a reputable family! noritoshi, you’re not any better than them just because your last name is kamo.”

as much as noritoshi scared you, you stood your ground. you knew he didn’t take you serious, not with the amused look he gave you. in the past month or two, noritoshi was suddenly hit by a growth spurt - you barely reached his shoulder now and he took advantage of that to mock you, often treating you like an armrest. he pat your head condescendingly, pouting at you in fake regret. “aw, did i hurt your feelings? did i make itty bitty little y/n sad?” he mocked you, before abruptly grabbing your cheeks to make you look at him. “i don’t care what you think of me, cry all you want. i strongly suggest you hold that sharp tongue of yours if you know what’s good. know your place.”

tears filled your eyes; noritoshi had never talked to you this way. what has gotten into him? your heart broke in pieces, unable to take the pain any longer. you were no longer his equal but below him, much like everyone else.

“mum?” you cautiously knocked at the door of her study, waiting for her response. your mother was most likely still awake and dealing with paperwork like she usually did. upon hearing the affirmative noise she made, you flitted inside, closing the door behind you so your father didn’t catch any wind of this. it was already embarrassing enough and you were sure your mother could offer you better advice. you gingerly took a seat on the armchair, grabbing a pillow and hugging it close to your body. how were you going to approach this? hey mum, i have a crush on noritoshi and he’s weird to me now and i don’t know why? uh yeah mum, i caught feelings for the guy you warned me about and now i look like a fool crawling up to you like this?

“it’s about noritoshi, isn’t it?” your mother interrupted your stream of thought, spinning her swivel chair towards you.

“huh? oh no it isn’t, why would it be? i have-”

“y/n.”

“ugh okay fine, maybe it is about him,” you sighed defeated, of course she would look right through you. she always seemed to know what you were thinking, even when you hadn’t confided in her before. “but promise me you won’t judge me!” the look in your mother’s eyes told you that she was going to judge you regardless but you knew she meant well - she simply wanted the best for you.

“i- i just don’t understand why he’s been such a pain in the ass lately. and he’s been treating everyone like dirt too, including me! mum, he’s becoming someone else and i… i don’t know what to do,” you sniffled inconsolably, wiping at your eyes with the sleeves of your sweater. she wasn’t supposed to see you getting emotional. “he’s always busy and when we do get to see each other, he doesn’t want to spend time with me. what if he doesn’t like me anymore? and i don’t like how he’s treating you! it’s the same issue with the elders, they don’t know any human decency at all!”

your mother motioned you to scoot over a little and sat next to you, wrapping her arms around you and patting your back to console you. while she meant well, it accomplished the opposite - you broke down in tears, unable to stop your sobs. “i just want my ‘toshi back,” you whimpered upset, burying your face in the pillow to muffle the sound of you crying. “i know you didn’t like that i became good friends with him but i couldn’t help it and i just really like him and- you weren’t supposed to find that out.”

“sweetheart, i know you love noritoshi,” she handed you a tissue. “you let a lot more on than you were aware of; dad and me always knew you were in love with him.” as if on cue, your sobbing stopped and you just looked at her in disbelief. she knew. she knew. you wanted the earth to swallow you whole. “i think it was always pretty obvious, to be honest. you always looked at him as if he was your entire world and no matter what happened, you were always by his side. i know it’s hard to accept when a dear friend is changing but sometimes you just have to, right? both of you are still growing, there’s no way of telling how your personalities change.”

“but i don’t want him to change like this,” you protested stubbornly, glaring at her. she was talking about it as if it was a matter of simply discarding a bad apple in the trash. it wasn’t easy and it made you anxious. you grew up together, shared secrets and memories. he was the person you’d always looked up to.

“y/n.” your mother sounded stern but you didn’t back down, not yet. “is it really worth it? if a person is changing so rapidly and you’re not getting through to them, you’ll have to let it go. there’s only so much you can do. people grow apart sometimes, it’s only natural. you have to let go of them, temporarily, so you both can heal and grow. y/n, i know you’re being stubborn about this but you’ll have to let him figure things out on his own. fate has curious ways to bring people back together.”

when the time came, noritoshi left to attend the kyoto metropolitan curse tech school without telling you a word. you were disappointed, apparently you weren’t worth saying goodbye to. whatever his reason was, it must’ve been pretty important. important enough to forget the promise that you’d always stay in contact. you wondered whether he'd change again, for the better maybe? maybe you would reconcile when you could finally attend the school as well and train together. you were excited to show him your sword skills, having received your family's heirloom, an elegant steel blue sword. though your skills probably weren’t up to par with the other students, you still wanted to show them off, show him what you’d learned in the year that you spent apart.

noritoshi had changed but not for the better. holy shit, did he get on your nerves. the first time he'd practiced with you, you realized that he had mutated into an insufferable know-it-all. he would give you backhanded compliments or make snide remarks about your posture, how you were supposed to hold your sword, how inefficient your fighting style was. sometimes you wished you could just beat him for once and have him shut up. there was no denying though, noritoshi was way too strong and you had a long way to go. judging from the reactions of the others, barely anyone had beat him either.

and just like that, your feelings for him were buried. you’d taken your mother’s advice to heart, keeping conversations and interactions with him to a minimum but somehow noritoshi always found his way to you. he was everywhere and a quarrel was inevitable. noritoshi got under your skin and he knew how to push your buttons. why he chose to pick on you was beyond your comprehension; he didn’t pay much attention to the other students nor was he particularly liked by them. just how much was he going to get on everyone else’s nerves? out of all the second years, todo aoi was the most amicable; you had the (dis)pleasure to run into him on your first day and for some reason, he took a liking to you. while he was loud and boisterous, mostly doing whatever he wanted, you couldn’t deny that he was a good friend. even though he didn’t care about anyone as much as he cared about takada-chan. at one point, he’d looked at you in sympathy when he caught you staring at noritoshi, patting your shoulder (too forceful): “i’m sorry, y/n, i’m so sorry.”

you still didn’t know what he meant by that.

ps.: todo knows and he’s kinda judging you for your taste in men

#jujutsu kaisen #kamo noritoshi #noritoshi #noritoshi x reader #kamo noritoshi x reader #noritoshi kamo #noritoshi kamo x reader #noritoshi x you #kamo noritoshi x you #noritoshi kamo x you #noritoshi kamo imagines #kamo noritoshi imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #noritoshi imagines #fic: sanguine #writing #my writing has gotten SO incredibly rusty i literally only know how to write academic papers anymore bc that's all i do in my everyday life #it makes me speechless to see all the love on my previous sukuna fic and i'm so glad people are enjoying it #hey if you're lurking in the tags thank you for reading i really appreciate it! pls stay hydrated

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mysticpetals · 3 years

Text

Farewell, sunshine

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Jake × f!mc (Syianne)

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: angst, a sprinkle of fluff

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 4.9k (oof)

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: All Jake ever wanted was to find his sister and protect the person who had helped him more than anyone. Only, he slowly began to realise that bringing Syianne into this had caused more harm than good.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: mentions of blood, physical attack, violence, hospitals, medical coma, panic attack.

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙨: Anonymous asked: 5. “Wake up! Please wake up.” MC and Jake finally get to meet for the first time, but everything is heavily dipped in angst. 😂 Also I adore your writing and keep up the good work!

Anonymous asked: Can you give us the most angsty jealous filled over protective short with Jake x MC i want all the ANGST to be seeping out of my screen

@mnrangera asked: Here's a nice angsty scenario for you: MC is in Duskwood continuing their investigation but is caught out in town after dark. They are on the phone with Jake when they are attacked by the Man Without a Face like Jessie was.

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨: I know this has been LOOOOONG overdue and I apologise for the wait. Thank you to all my followers for being patient, especially those who sent the requests in. I hope the long wait is worth it and you enjoy it. Also, please read the warnings before proceeding, I don't want any of you to be triggered by something I wrote. There may be inaccuracies in how I progressed medical conditions and general working of the hospitals so I apologise for that. Please do not repost or translate this fic anywhere else!! I'm literally begging you, please don't ruin my hard work like this. I would love if I could get some sort of feedback, whether it be reblogs or comments or just anon asks. I've tried to improve my writing and I hope it shows a little in this. This is my Christmas and New Year present all wrapped in one! I hope you all have a great 2021 <3

It was a cold, winter evening with the sky painted in a plethora of warm colors and Jake felt like finally things were going his way.

He, along with Syianne, had been working tirelessly for the past few weeks to find out what happened to Hannah. They had faced a lot of challenges along the way, with cryptic diary entries and threats directed towards them and their loved ones, but still, they'd prevailed and spent every ounce of free time, getting more information about Hannah's perpetrator.

They finally had the facts about what happened the day she was kidnapped and only the identity of the criminal was hidden. Syianne had suggested that she should go to Duskwood to try and find the last puzzle piece, to which Jake had been a little apprehensive. She argued that the rest of the group had already been through enough, with getting stalked and receiving threats and insisted that she should be the one to carry out her search in secret.

She never once asked for him to come along because she knew how dangerous it would be for him and she didn't want him to get caught. Jake was instantly warmed by the thought that someone cared so much about him, to think of his well being first.

So that night, as she called him to update him on her findings and plan after she went to Duskwood, he found himself speaking his thoughts impulsively.

"What if I came too?"

There was silence on the other end and Jake thought he might have overstepped or made it weird but she answered before he could stammer an apology.

"I'd like that. But only if you're comfortable and safe."

She told him to ruminate on it for a while and bid him goodnight. Jake thought about whether it was a logical thing to do. If Syianne planned to go undercover, he couldn't very well let her go into the lion's den alone. So he made up his mind and texted Syianne to let her know.

Jake [10:46 pm]

I'll come to Duskwood too.

Is it okay if we don't meet straight away?

I...I don't think I'm ready yet.

Syianne [10:47 pm]

I was lowkey hoping you'd say that ahaha

And of course! Take as much time as you need :)

That night, he slept with a smile on his face, excitement churning in his stomach.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Syianne was looking forward to her trip to Duskwood.

She knew it was a potentially dangerous situation and she was only going there to investigate but knowing that Jake might be there too, sent a spark of thrill through her body. They had been speaking non-stop for the past few weeks and she really liked talking to him. His answers to questions about him or his life were adorably confusing and Syianne realized that she really wanted to get to know him, be his friend or possibly something more, if their flirty banter was anything to go by.

Her bag contained all the essentials she could need, along with a sketchbook and pencils to use in case of boredom. She couldn't leave Matrix with any of her friends as they were either busy or allergic to cats so her only option was to take her along.

She had never booked a flight so fast. Knowing she would have to take a car from the airport to the rest of the way to Duskwood did nothing to damper her excitement. She couldn't wait to meet everyone once they found Hannah, some more so than the others.

The trip was nothing eventful, just a lot of travelling and it made Syianne a little tired but the idea of meeting her friends and finally putting a stop to all this madness, made her keep going. She wouldn't admit it if you asked her but she was looking forward to possibly seeing Jake as well. She knew he might not be comfortable enough to meet her yet and she completely respected that, but the thought still lingered.

She checked in to the only hotel Duskwood had, not meeting the receptionist's - Lilly's - eyes and was eternally grateful that she had only leaked her number and not her photo in that video. It would have been much more difficult to move about Duskwood, if that were the case.

The room they had was pretty basic, but not too bad for a few nights. Matrix prowled around the room, getting herself comfortable in the new environment while Syianne slowly unpacked the few clothes and necessities she brought.

In the corner of her mind, there was the thought that Jake might be staying at this hotel too and that sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. But she was a woman of her word and would wait until Jake was ready and would not try to look for him.

She had a mission here and she wanted to be damn sure that that's what she would be focusing on and save Hannah.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Jake was supposed to be in Duskwood about two nights ago.

He had encountered some issues with removing his tracks from the internet, as well as trying to find a safe way to drive to Duskwood without exposing himself. Working as a hacker did have some benefits and finally he managed to find a guy who made him three fake number plates that he would interchange every once in a while, so his whereabouts couldn't be traced.

He had let Syianne know of the unexpected delay but to his surprise, she was enjoying herself in Duskwood. She had told him that Jessy gave her a virtual tour of the town once and she was excited to explore all those places in person. She talked to him at night, describing the beauty of the small town and Jake felt himself growing wistful, wondering what they could do together if he had been there. But then again, hadn't he said that he wouldn't show himself right now? He was cautious - just as he had been all his life - but something about Syianne just made him want to let his guard down, to just be selfish for once.

He had no time to think further on it because finally, all the preparations and precautionary measures were done and he could drive to Duskwood. He couldn't leave Glitch at home because he had attachment issues and couldn't go without Jake for a long period of time. So he ushered him into his carrier and told him he could claw all the wood he wanted when they reached their destination and Glitch meowed in agreement. He had always been a smart cat, after all.

Changing the number plates every hour was exhausting, especially when he didn't do much manual work but he endured it, if it meant he was one step closer to finding his sister.

When he finally reached Duskwood, he was in awe of how normal it looked, how silent; how someone who didn't know that a girl had been kidnapped would think of this place as the perfect getaway. But he knew better, didn't he? This town held dark secrets, secrets that people weren't willing to acknowledge and he was going to expose them for what they were, no matter what it took.

Signing into the Duskwood hotel was as awkward as he imagined it to be, his half sister having no idea who he was and looking at his dark, baggy clothes suspiciously. He wasn't blaming her, he would have probably done the same if a strange man came out of nowhere to stay in Duskwood of all places. Lilly gave him a tight smile as he picked up his bag and key and made way to his room.

Syianne had texted him earlier that day that she would be checking out the lake in the evening, where Jessy was attacked. Jake was against it from the start but he should have known how stubborn she could be and eventually, he had to agree but only on the condition that she stays on video call with him the whole time. Syianne was evidently bewildered by his request, judging by the way she kept writing and erasing her reply but after a while, she managed to ask if he would be comfortable with that. Jake's heart warmed at her considerate words, never really having anyone who would care about his emotions, he was always surprised when Syianne said something like that. He replied that he would just turn off his camera or point it at the lamp or something but he had to be sure about her safety.

And that's why, he was sitting with his phone in front of him in the evening, camera turned off as he watched her fondly, pointing out the strange birds she saw.

"Ah, I wish you were here! The lake is so pretty this time and the light from sunset is reflecting off the water and it makes an amazing view," she said, voice breathy with the exertion of walking for a while and a tone of awe towards the scene in front of her.

"That's sufficient sightseeing, don't you think?" Her voice suddenly took a serious note and Jake straightened up in his chair. He was afraid but couldn't say anything. He had already agreed to let her go with a condition and he feared if he asked her to not investigate, she would probably end the call and keep looking for clues by herself. At least on the phone, he could look at her surroundings and made sure no one sneaked up on her.

"If you say so," he said half-heartedly, glancing at the surroundings behind her as she narrowed her eyes at his dismissive tone.

The next twenty minutes were spent with Syianne looking around the lake and Jake looking over her shoulder virtually. She had scouted the edge and went a little deeper into the forest, looking for a car, a boat, a mask - anything, really - but the search had proved to be futile so far. Everything was as peaceful as ever, no signs of any disturbance and it made Jake a little antsy. Nothing was ever this perfect.

"Well, since we can't find anything here, I think you should come back. It's getting late," Jake said, looking at the already darkened sky. It was an ominous red color and Jake was getting more and more worried as people left the lakeside.

Syianne frowned but didn't argue and that made him sigh in relief.

"Yeah, you're right. No use trying to find something that isn't there," she said and started walking again.

"Wait, you walked here? Didn't you bring your car?" Jake asked and she shook her head.

"Nope, I wanted to enjoy Duskwood and being in a car wouldn't have helped," she smiled at the camera and Jake let out an almost inaudible sigh. Why couldn't she care about her safety a little more? She was going to give him grey hair before he reached his thirties, that was for sure.

As he began to reply to her, he caught movement from the left side of the screen and instantly grabbed his phone, expanding the background.

There was a silhouette of a hand.

"Syianne, run!" He shouted, as the figure's arm came into view and she looked back in surprise before starting to sprint, the camera shaking from her movements.

Jake scrambled to get his car keys, not bothering with what he was wearing and ran towards the hotel parking, getting into his car and connecting the GPS to his phone, all the while listening to Syianne's panting breaths as she ran away from the man without a face.

Getting her location was no problem for him and he just hoped he would arrive there on time.

"Jake, I'm scared. I'm hiding behind a big building and I think he went on ahead," she whispered, voice shaky and trembling and Jake's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he glanced over at his phone to watch her looking around herself in a panic.

Five more minutes and he would reach her location. Jake had never been more thankful that Duskwood was a small town and the hotel wasn't so far away from the lake.

"I'm coming, Syianne. Just a little while more and we'll go back together."

"Okay, I think I'm safe for now," she said. There was a sound of slow careful footsteps as Syianne came out from behind the building.

The abrupt sound of a gasp almost made him lose control of the steering wheel and he increased his speed as he heard what sounded like a scuffle. Syianne had probably dropped her phone because it only showed the dark sky and sounds of her struggling against her attacker.

"No! Let–"

Jake let out a harsh breath, jaw tightening as he heard Syianne's scream. He drove straight for a bit and turned the next corner and saw the man trying once again to restrain her. His eyes saw red and he honked and honked like it was nobody's business, speeding towards them.

The man without a face seemed to have realised that someone was coming to help as he pushed Syianne roughly into the wall and ran away towards the forest. As much as Jake wanted to go after him, Syianne was his first priority and he quickly got out of the car, dashing towards her crumpled form, lying on the ground.

He fumbled with his phone, calling the local police and asking for an ambulance, his body shaking all the while, as he knelt down next to Syianne.

He felt tears welling in her eyes as he looked at her battered form and realised that she was bleeding.

"Syianne?" He spoke in a scared voice.

"Syianne!" He said more forcefully, repeatedly patting her face in hope she'll look at him but her eyes were still glassy and unfocused as if she couldn't comprehend anything.

"I'm...so sorry. I…" her voice trailed off as she struggled to breathe and Jake cried, seeing her in so much pain, when he couldn't do anything except wait for the ambulance to arrive.

After a moment, Syianne's eyes fluttered closed and Jake's panic rose to new heights.

"No, no, no! Wake up! Please wake up!" He shouted and begged but she didn't respond to his calls.

His hand was soaked in her blood from where he was applying pressure on the wound at her side. The blood hadn't stopped flowing and Jake was worried that she was losing too much, too soon.

"What do I do? What do I do?" He muttered to himself, adrenaline coursing through his veins, with only one thought in his head – to save her.

He heard sirens in the distance and was relieved to know that help was coming. He pushed up the fallen hood of his jacket up on his head and looked at Syianne for any signs of consciousness. Her breaths were shallow and eyes still closed.

Soon enough, paramedics rushed to the scene and immediately started tending to Syianne's wounds. Jake felt as if he was just a spectator, not being able to do anything but watch. Someone came up to him and started asking him questions, about how he found her, who he was to her and if he knew anything about the attack. He answered all the questions as carefully as he could, giving a fake name, because he still wasn't sure if the police department was in league with the kidnapper or not.

As soon as he was done with the questioning, a paramedic approached him, letting him know that they were taking Syianne to the hospital and he would have to come there for a bit of paperwork. Jake hesitated and said he'd drive there in his own car and the paramedic nodded in response and left.

He got in his car and put his head in his hands, shaking at the unfortunate turn of events. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Syianne was just going to check out the lake and then surprise her friends the next day by telling them she'd be here for a few days and enjoy Duskwood together.

Jake was even thinking of meeting her in person and telling her that she had changed his life for the better. But his cowardice, his meticulous nature to not let anyone know who he was or where he was might have cost Syianne her life tonight. Even thinking about it had tears pooling in his eyes and he took a deep breath to bite back the sobs that were threatening to break once again.

He felt guilty, so so guilty and couldn't bring himself to start the car. He was pretty sure that if – no when – Syianne woke up, she would want nothing to do with the man who put her life in danger. With that thought rooted in his mind, he opened his phone and with trembling hands, sent Jessy a text about Syianne's accident. He received a reply almost immediately.

Jessy [8:46 pm]

What?

How did she come here?

You know what? If she's not okay, I'm going to hunt you down and make you pay.

Jake had no trouble believing she was telling the truth. All he wanted to do was help and now everything was falling apart. Taking a deep but shaky breath, he started the car but instead of going to the hospital, he turned towards the hotel.

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Jessy had no trouble believing that the hacker was telling the truth. His texts were frantic and he practically begged her to go to the hospital to see Syianne. She had no idea how she got here, but hearing that she got attacked, just like she was, was enough to make her worry and drive to the hospital, after letting Cleo know. She figured that the rest of them deserved to know too.

She rushed to the front desk, breathless and worried, and one of the nurses told Jessy that the doctors were with Syianne and she'd have to wait until they were done to know how she was.

After some time of relentless pacing, Cleo arrived and Jessy filled her in on everything that the hacker told her, which wasn't much, but it gave them a good idea of what had happened. Cleo said that she hadn't told anyone else yet and that they should do so as soon as the doctors had an update on Syianne's condition.

About an hour later, a nurse came upto Jessy and Cleo, asking if they knew Syianne and upon their confirmation, led them to the room she was kept in. They weren't allowed to enter yet as the doctors were still in the room, but Jessy gasped when she saw Syianne's scratched up face, with bandages covering her head.

"Oh my gosh." Cleo breathed and Jessy felt a rush of sorrow as she averted her eyes.

The doctors after completing their examination, told them that Syianne was stabbed in the side but luckily it didn't puncture anything important and they closed up the wound to allow it to heal. What was more concerning, was the fact that she was hit on the back of her head.

"She most likely suffered from a concussion, in which case, it is of the utmost importance that the patient doesn't fall asleep," the doctor said and Jessy and Cleo looked at each other uneasily.

"But Syianne fell asleep…" Jessy began and the doctor gave her an apologetic smile.

"That's right. She was unconscious when she was brought here. The superficial wounds are taken care of, we just don't know when she'll wake up."

Both of them were too stunned to say anything and a call for the doctor from one of the nurses broke them out of their stupor.

"So, she's in a coma?" Cleo asked.

The doctor hesitated before answering.

"Essentially, yes. But we can't know for sure without further observation. If the injury isn't severe she'll wake up soon, we just have to monitor her constantly and look for any changes." He then walked off when his pager went off, most likely to see another patient.

"Don't worry, Jessy. She'll wake up soon," Cleo said, placing a hand on her shoulder, as they looked into Syianne's room, seeing her sleeping peacefully, as if nothing was wrong and she was just taking a nap.

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As soon as she got home from the hospital, Jessy sent out a row of furious texts to the hacker, clouded by her anger and hopelessness. In her head, it was all his fault that Syianne was twittering between life and death. He was the one who asked her to come to Duskwood without letting any of them know, which caused her to be in such a terrible condition.

Everything was crumbling.

They were a tight knit group, always there for each other but when did it turn into a nightmare, Jessy didn't know. Emotion overtook her and she suddenly collapsed against the wall, keeping a hand on her mouth to muffle her sobs, and cried.

She cried for Hannah, who she had no idea whether she was alive or not. She cried for Syianne, who had become such a great friend to her. Most importantly, she cried for her relationship with everyone, that was slowly but surely, withering away.

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Jake had been pacing in his hotel room ever since getting back, waiting on a word from Jessy. Glitch watched him with big eyes, as he stubbed his on the bedside and cursed. Sighing in defeat, Jake realised that it won't do any good to worry himself to death, but that didn't mean that his mind didn't drift off to the earlier scene.

Syianne lying on the ground. Blood pooled around her.

He shook his head in frustration, trying to get that image out of his head but to no success. Glitch, sensing that something was wrong, strolled towards him, rubbing and purring against his legs. Jake softened at seeing his efforts to calm him and he picked Glitch up, moving to lay down on the bed. He petted him, smiling at the way the cat burrowed himself further against Jake, curling his tail around his wrist.

After a few peaceful moments of cuddling, Jake's phone lit up with a text, which had him scrambling to grab it from the bedside. Glitch meowed in protest but Jake was too wound up to notice.

Jessy [10:25 pm]

She's in a coma

They don't know when she'll wake up

Jake felt all breath leave him as he read Jessy's text. He didn't know what to think, what to do, what he could do. Jessy didn't give him a chance to respond.

Jessy [10:26 pm]

Don't contact any of us ever again

I don't want to find Hannah this way…which leads to everyone else getting hurt

Please leave Syianne out of this

Saying her mind, Jessy went offline again. Jake took a shaky breath, trying to ground himself. Syianne might never make up.

No, he told himself.

He couldn't think like that. He knew she'd wake up, it might take a little time but she will. Because if she didn't, Jake wouldn't be able to live with himself.

He got another text from Lilly, saying she was sorry that it happened but he couldn't bring himself to write back. His mind was empty, body numb to everything around him and he was cursing himself for being so careless.

If he hadn't been so selfish, if only he didn't put all of this on her, if he had just reached on time, if, if, if.

That's all he thought of, as tears continuously trailed down his cheeks, an arm covering his eyes, the only thing on his mind being Syianne, just as it had been ever since he started talking to her.

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The next day, Jake found himself holding a large flower bouquet and walking to Duskwood hospital's reception. He was trembling, scared out of his mind but he just had to see Syianne. So, he had braved his anxiety and was now standing in front of the receptionist, who looked at the abnormally large bouquet in his hands and raised an eyebrow. He cleared his throat.

"I'm here to see Syianne King, she was admitted here yesterday."

The receptionist's gaze sharpened as she looked him over and he partially hid behind the flowers.

"Only family members are allowed to visit," she spoke slowly and Jake bit his lip in frustration.

"I'm her fiance," he said and before the surprised receptionist could say anything, he continued, "I drove here as soon as I got the call but they wouldn't tell me what happened. Only that Syianne had been in an accident and I needed to get here as soon as I could and I—" he cut himself off, shuffling nervously and wiping away the tears that had managed to escape from his eyes.

The receptionist softened, seeing his genuine sorrow and care for his fiance and warmed her voice.

"Of course, I'm sorry for what happened. She's in room 309, third floor. The elevator is down the hall," she pointed and Jake thanked her profusely before walking ahead.

Him being Syianne's fiance might have been fake but everything he had felt was the truth and he felt overwhelmed now that he was here. Should he see her? Did he even deserve to see her after he put her in danger? Thoughts like this plagued his mind all the way to Syianne's room and they only stopped when he saw '309' written in bold letters on a grey coloured door.

His breath stuttered in his chest. He was second guessing his presence in the hospital, thinking whether he shouldn't have come. He stood in front of the door for about ten minutes, contemplating but when the nurses started giving him suspicious looks, he swallowed thickly and with shaky hands, opened the door.

Nothing could have prepared him for the utter despair and helplessness he felt, as he saw Syianne's motionless form on the bed, breathing as if she was just sleeping and would wake up any minute. But he knew that wasn't the truth.

She was here and it was his fault.

For the longest time, he just sat on a chair beside her bed and just looked at her. His eyes traced every injury, every bruise that was visible and he felt sick, blaming himself for letting it happen. She was still sleeping and suddenly, it just got too much.

There was too much light, too much beeping, the walls were too white, the flowers in his hands digging into his skin and he got up hastily, dropping the bouquet and backed into the furthest corner of the room.

His breath was coming in short bursts, it hurt to breath, to think, to stay upright—!

His legs gave from under him and he slid down, back against the wall, shaking hands coming up to wipe the wetness on his face.

He didn't even realise he had been crying.

His vision was a blur of dark shapes and in a distinct corner of his head that was still sane, he thought of what Syianne would have done had she been awake. He was sure she would kneel down in front of him and take his hands, running her thumbs against the back of his hands to calm him.

'Breathe slowly, Jake. Deep breaths with me, come on,' he heard her in his head and tried to slow down, breathing harshly at first but after a few minutes, his vision cleared and his breathing stabled to an acceptable rate.

His whole body shook with the sheer suddenness of the panic attack and he slowly tried to get up, holding onto the wall as a support as his gaze, once again, landed on the bed and it's occupant.

All at once, his head cleared and he knew what to do.

Snatching a sheet of paper from the notepad lying near her chart, Jake penned his thoughts, all his anguish, and his apologies on it. Not once did his hand shake as he wrote the note and not once did his mind waver from the decision he had made. At last, when he had said everything he wanted to, he put the pen down and glanced at Syianne's peaceful face.

His throat closed up but he swallowed once to make sure he didn't cry. No, Jake had no time for tears. It was his fault that this happened in the first place, so it was his responsibility that he would make it right.

He didn't know when she would wake but whenever it might be, Jake had everything he wanted to say, already written for her.

He bent down towards her and placed the softest of kisses against her forehead, knowing that it would be the only time he would ever get to do it.

She did not open her eyes and Jake stepped back with a miniscule tilt of his lips.

Yes, he would make everything right.

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