#also! if you like this dynamic check out my fic “restless all night”

[lilacxquartz]

Those Late Summer Nights | Chapter 7

Satoru Gojo × Fem! Reader × Suguru Geto

This is a dark/yandere fic that features upsetting themes and it is canon divergent. Updated every Wednesday.

ABOUT: You moved to Tokyo over the summer to take a teaching job. As you get settled in, you find yourself entangled in a toxic dynamic.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Satoru teaches you to tolerate a place you dislike.

TRIGGER WARNING: Unaware reader while Satoru does something he really shouldn’t.

Previous Chapter.

7. Starry Skies

There was just a little extra something humiliating about being back in your old bedroom at your old house again; these four walls that were once both your comfort but also your prison had been left perfectly untouched with the help of your mother preserving it just as you had left it—a space locked in time, a haunting reminder of who you once were.

You grew uncomfortable at such a prospect as it was likely going to continue down that road for many more years to come, with or without your friends to help you through each and every single visit.

This room in particular once housed the person you didn’t want to be, after all, providing you a temporary shell for you to hermit inside of whenever you made your bed in it; you weren’t her anymore, but also you were her at some point.

Your eyes squeezed shut as you tried succumbing to sleep to quickly pass this whole thing by, but you were used to much later bedtimes by now and we’re left staring off into the dark as slumber failed to take you under. The clock barely hit 9 in the night and you were left lying wide awake feeling restless and frustrated.

It was then that you reached for your phone, knowing that pretty much everyone else would be up at least. The texts did take their sweet time to deliver though; the spotty reception driving you just a little over the edge, making you more irritable than you had to be.

It was something about this place, that was the reason why, you were sure of it.

Shoko was the first priority in your texting queue, updating her with just about everything that had happened so far as she continued to approve of how Satoru was behaving, assuring you that he knows his stuff when it comes to unfair parents and that you have nothing to worry about.

It was a lighthearted moment of checking in, her texts half mocking you ‘goodnight’ as she had to continue to study while reminding you of the plum wine.

Suguru was next in queue, just to see if he was still going through whatever it was that made him feel so distant but he never replied. He always had his phone on him so you felt a little more hurt than usual knowing that he likely read your message but never bothered to reply.

Satoru was the next in line either way as you were a little concerned as to how he was holding up in the guest house but just as you typed something out to him, he got to you first.

“Your parents turned their lights off, let’s sneak out~?”

You stared at the screen as you laughed quietly at the idea, quickly feeling your worries evaporate—he was fine, of course he was fine. Staring at the text a little more, you also considered the idea. Your parents usually fell asleep quickly and you weren’t tired at all, so it would be nice to get away from this place for a while.

“Is it really sneaking out if it’s my own home and If I’m an adult?” you asked, sending a text back. You were twenty-two now, bordering twenty-three; a young adult at this point, but one either way.

“It is if it gets you into trouble,” he replied.

You gently scoffed as you realised the depressing reality of how it actually was. You likely would get into trouble because you still had to walk on eggshells around your own family even now, which made it all seem even bleaker.

Wanting to go against the system, you accepted his offer, wanting for things to go down a different route for a change if you could help it and as such, you told him that you’d be down in five and to meet you at the front of the house.

You then quietly left through the front door and met with Satoru in the driveway who quietly greeted you with a smile, suppressing his voice for now so as to not get you in trouble, a notion that he personally thought was a little amusing.

Together, the two of you walked side by side as your shoulders unintentionally slouched, feeling some strange discomfort from existing within town once again.

It was the shell of your former self manifesting who you once were, showing Satoru a side of you that he was aware of but one that you’d rather he didn’t know.

A side of you that felt just a little watched, a little judged in everything that you did.

He responded to your sunken body language with a pat on your back with some slight force in his hand, hoping to both straighten your posture as well as to snap you out of whatever it was you were going through.

“You know, I miss that girl that I got to know in the city,” he said as he looked up into the night sky, his eyes taking in the many stars blanketing over town, “you’re not really yourself out here, are you?”

You gulped as you listened to him talk, finding that his words were oddly profound for who he was and couldn’t form a proper response, at least not right away. Other parts of the question felt a little like a pick up line but you did your best to not overthink it, knowing that his personality was flirty by default and that it wasn’t personal even if he did mean it that way.

The walk led you to a nearby park where the lights were still shining bright under the lampposts scattered throughout, the two of you settling on a bench near the entrance. Some low grade cursed spirits loitered in the shadows further into the park, but neither of you cared enough to exorcise those.

The night sky was exceptionally beautiful tonight, completely devoid of clouds as a crescent moon smiled over the world; clusters of stars freckling around the dark canvas.

“I miss views like this back in the city. Even further out where it’s quiet, it’s never really exactly like this,” Satoru said after a while.

“Yeah, it’s the only thing I ended up really missing when I moved to Tokyo,” you replied in agreement.

Something about this whole thing felt strangely intimate, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It wasn’t generating as much tension as it had done so when you were alone with Suguru, but something was brewing that you couldn’t quite understand.

Regardless, you didn’t want it to go another wrong direction though so you kept your hands and body language to yourself.

Keeping your friends as friends was more important, you thought.

“So, there’s really nothing else out here?” Satoru asked.

“Well, that depends on how you look at it,” you considered, trying your best to not be completely negative, “there’s the night views, the nature and the clean air which is good for some people.”

“But not for you,” he speculated.

“I guess not.”

“There’s no shame in this place just being somewhere you had to live in, you know. You shouldn’t let it define you.” He said after a while, trying to help you feel better about being here while also trying to ease you into becoming more vulnerable so he could potentially chance a move on you.

“I mean… it’s easier said than done,” you replied as you let his words fester in your mind, talking a touch more spontaneously as your emotions stirred, “maybe you don’t get it because you were told that you were special your entire life-“

Wait. Oops.

You froze as you realised exactly what you had just said and just how terribly it was worded.

Satoru noticed this and didn’t even flinch nor did his demeanour change a single bit. He didn’t mind such sudden bluntness from you, in fact, he found it refreshing that you were capable of speaking your mind under the right conditions.

“It’s alright—you’re alright,” he laughed a little as he found himself momentarily stunned, “you’re right about that much.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say that,” you continued to blabber despite his attempts to talk you down from your spiralling unease.

“I just wanted to say that you’re not that ordinary either, even if you were told it,” he continued to explain without dwelling on what you hit him with, “you have something that a lot of people can’t even comprehend having.”

Sighing, you finally forced yourself to face the conversation.

“I know, but, I just feel like if I didn’t have anything going on then maybe I would actually have a chance to be normal.”

“But where’s the fun in that, [name]?” Satoru replied, scoffing just a little as though jokingly offended, “you could have had a boring normal life in a small town, yeah, but that’s all you would have done in your life.”

“And is that so bad…?”

“When you’re comparing it to what you have, I’d say so?” he asked as countered your question with one of his own, he didn’t show it but he was a little frustrated at how little credit you gave yourself, “your past here was a blip at best and all I’m getting at here is that you shouldn’t let it define you.”

“It’s just easier said than done,” you sighed, although you did agree with him. This topic was difficult to discuss, but it felt freeing to face a troubling truth.

Silence followed beyond that point, leaving you wondering if there was something wrong with you that drained the life from those around you given just how quiet people were.

In reality, or at least for Satoru’s case, it was that he felt comfortable enough to finally continue making a move on you despite the fact that he was starting to slowly become conflicted with doing so.

You were vulnerable as you had finally opened up to him in a way he was certain that you hadn’t to others before, but it didn’t feel right to do so completely.

Still, he chose to lean in for a kiss that managed to catch you so off guard that you immediately pulled away, wondering why this was happening a second time—hoping that you actually weren’t doing anything to lead anyone on without realising it.

Satoru pulled back too as he maintained his unserious expression, choosing to not present himself as offended even if the rejection did throw him off, even just a little. He quickly laughed it off either way, having a new idea in mind to ease you into giving in.

“My mistake, [name],” he smiled as he continued to stare into yours, “I thought we were supposed to be selling a lie up here.”

“I-I guess so but it feels too real-“

“—Just this once?” Satoru asked as he cut you off, not giving you room to think, “maybe with some luck someone will see.”

That was exactly what worried you, that someone from town would see you kissing him despite it already being so late into night—at least for this place. You knew that just from looking at Satoru that this was his attempt at something, but you didn’t want it to go down that road at all.

“Just think of it this way, if we have to sell it around your parents later, it’ll be easier to do,” he said as he continued to warm you up to the idea.

Your own bruised persona that existed within this town tried to justify it for you internally, telling you that this would be your chance at appearing normal for a change as your body slowly ended up leaning into the kiss, after all.

It wasn’t so bad as your lips finally connected, but you didn’t really feel anything at all as it all unfolded.

Maybe he was actually just playing you to see how easily you played into his cards, but you couldn’t deny that you were curious—at least a little, just to see what it was like to lock lips with someone else.

Satoru then pulled back after a moment had passed too, sensing your discomfort, not wanting to push you over your limit, at least not yet.

He could tell that it was your first kiss, but that just helped him savour it all the better.

***

It was a quiet walk back to the house and just as you were about to re-enter the front door, Satoru pulled you off into the garden along with him as an attempt to convince you that you would probably feel less bad if you spent the night with him than entirely alone.

“Please?” he playfully begged you, “don’t make me spend the night in there all alone.”

“It’s just for two nights though-“

“—Unless you want me to sneak up to your room~?”

Such an idea even if he was joking left you feeling a little mortified as the colour drained from your face. There was absolutely zero chance that he was going to see that side of you, so you reluctantly gave into the offer of a sleepover instead.

Even if he did steal a kiss from you, there was something about his entire being that made him seem somehow more trustworthy than Suguru to you.

Maybe it was the fact that he was open about it?

“Trust me, [name],” he continued to say as he tugged your wrist off to the guest house, “if we’re supposed to be together anyway, it wouldn’t even be that weird to be seen with me in the morning.”

“But my parents-“

“—They were young too at some point, trust me, they’ll get it.”

You understood that part fully well but you still felt a bit off about the whole thing. Sneaking out was one thing, being seen leaving the guest house with him was another due to the implications alone. You wanted to sell the lie too, but it was starting to feel all too real again and you didn’t want for him to get the wrong idea about just how much you were allowing him to get away with.

“Just to sleep, nothing more-“

“—Just to keep up appearances,” he assured you while smiling, “it smells in here, don’t make me suffer through that alone.”

You stared at him for a little longer, sighing as you continued to give into the idea; his smile growing wider as he watched you accept such a proposal.

“I won’t do anything,” he added along, “we’ll just sleep, yeah?”

You nodded as your mind quietly crumbled internally at the prospect of sharing a bed with a guy, so when you both got into bed together you made a conscious effort to stay at the edge of the bed while he read into your body language, backing himself up against the wall.

The bed was surely small though and such crowdedness radiated a heat between the two of you despite not touching each other at all.

The summer heat continued to fester and as a result, he slowly dressed down albeit to a respectable degree and you soon gave into surrendering your top for the camisole beneath, still keeping your bottoms on, just to make sleep even a little bearable.

Falling asleep within his shadow felt strange initially but the exhaustion quickly swept over you. He wasn’t being weird to you as you had initially feared and as such, you were successfully lulled into a false sense of security around him.

So by the time you were fast asleep, you didn’t even notice as he slowly crept ever so slightly closer to you, intending to brush it off as nighttime habits if you were to wake up from his advancement.

…But you never did.

He then attempted to close the distance between you even more as he pressed himself up ever so slightly against your back, feeling himself grow excited as he did so—a consequence of his own selfish thoughts.

Although, you did pull away subconsciously as the heat became overwhelming which prompted him to stop for a moment, thinking about how exactly to go through this, or if he should even do so at all.

The conflicting feeling came back again and he was beginning to feel strange in how he was treating you but at least for now, the arousal clouded his thoughts on the matter as he continued onwards.

Continuing, he pulled down his shorts even further while backing off a little. His semi-hard cock pitched slightly against his boxers as he did his best to keep it subtle enough, shuffling closer against your back without waking you up or bothering you.

Just to feel how you felt against himself, he wouldn’t go beyond that point.

You couldn’t feel him at all in your deep sleep regardless, your mind not even registering the fact that his tip pressed ever so slightly against the small of your back. He wanted to keep you close which is why he didn’t go further, making sure to act at least somewhat rationally so that he wouldn’t do anything he’d regret.

It surely did take him a good while until he broke away from you though, settling flat against his back instead as frustration enveloped him. He took care of himself at his own hand instead, the bed slightly shaking as he did so but never once breaking you away from slumber, finishing off into his shorts that he then threw off to the side.

Satoru sighed deep as he forced himself to behave around you, convincing himself that you’d ease into it another day—just not today, but maybe at another time.

It was because he liked you that he kept a boundary to begin with.

It was because he liked you that he didn’t want to hurt you.

(Unless you gave him a reason to.)

He surely wouldn’t.

…Would he?

Next Chapter.

#xposted to ao3 #tw #dead dove fic #yandere x reader #satoru gojo #yandere jjk #dark fanfiction #dead dove do not eat #dark fic #jjk yandere #satoru gojo x reader #satoru x reader #yandere suguru geto #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x reader #slow build #fanfic #jjk #yandere x female reader #yandere x y/n #yandere fantasy #yandere x you #yandere fanfiction #reader x gojo #reader x geto #yandere geto #geto x reader #gojo x reader #weekly updates

[black-streak]

Waiting for the Worms - Run like Hell

Part 21

Turns out, I was so put off by my lack of writing over the last week or so and annoyed at my sickness that I decided to shove through this chapter as well. Took me so much less time to write than usual.

I only have... Two more chapters planned out for this fic and I'm pretty sure that'll be the end of this. Maybe snippets that didn't fit the story line or the likes will come after, but the official end is almost upon us.

CLOSED LIST of the following dedicated readers: @northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @miraculousdisapointment @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @emjrabbitwolf @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @dast218 @lysslovsanime @emilytopaz @naoryllis @iloontjeboontje @thepeacetea @danielslilangel @finallyaniguana @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @vixen-uchiha @yuulxd @bleeding-heart-romantic @magic-inthe-stars @st0rmy-w1th1n

~---~

Old habits die hard when you try for cold turkey. Jason and the team knew that for a fact. It's why they ended up switching up miraculouses and patrolling random cities on intervals. It also helped in that it made their existence more world surfacing. Random sightings across a global scale of humanesque animal figures prowling the nights, taking out petty crooks and villains alike. Lurking in shadows and watching the nightlife unfold below them. Guardians to all. One miraculous never appeared with the same figure in one city for more than a few nights, not since Paris. 

No one needed to know it was just their group becoming restless from inactivity. 

For that same reason, it came second nature to switch hands and even travel to collect different kwamis that night for a patrol around the Gotham rooftops. Not a one of them commented on the assassin or little bird that followed them from a mile off. Marinette and Tim had the right to their own restlessness and surely Tim wished to study their team further. To determine how they worked together, their dynamic, their morals. 

Damian had pitched a fit until Mari made him promise to stay home so as to keep his existence unknown to the Bat, allowing him to stay watch over the remaining kwamis for the night. The boy had settled down right away and curled up on the couch with his pocket sized pets.

Occasionally the two behind them would stop a little ways off, the assassin pointing out their figures as they made specific choices or movements and explaining how it worked, how they made the decision, and how to replicate it. The sheer trust she instilled in her bird companion threw them all for a loop, but they refused to question her in this, especially in front of him.

Other times, he stopped her to point out different aspects of the city that had changed or ask an opinion of her. They couldn't help but wonder if the boy knew they all had enhanced senses in this form and knew every word that came from their lips. If he did, he made the choice to allow them to hear, obviously trained enough to keep out of even animal hearing ranges if need be. Otherwise, he thought them far away enough or simply didn't care if they could. Jason hoped he knew, hoped Mari informed the bird and allowed him the choice. It was always a toss up on if she felt the need to be open and honest or to deceive those around her. Normally, Jason could tell, but not quite from this distance.

The comm unit Marinette picked up from Babs picked up halfway through their night, "B's in your route," Oracle informed.

"Any chance you can derail him?" Mari asked, as Jason turned to stare back at the twitching form of Robin. Nothing else gave him away, the face emotionless and stance as relaxed as a vigilantes could afford, except the slight twitch at the words being spoke into the two's ears.

"Not a chance. He's caught sight of a curly tailed figure in pink ahead."

Chloe.

"He's likely to run in to the bunch then. We'll split from here and make our way around," Mari responded as the bird took a step closer to her, hand reaching for his own ear.

"He's livid, isn't he?"

"Beyond so."

"Presumptuous over my disappearance?"

"Barely took note until a few nights ago. Now under the impression they stole you to get back at him."

Jason watched as the kid suppressed a flinch and ground his jaw instead, "He thought I went to the titans, didn't he?"

"Yup. Only made his second theory after a check in with them revealed you never came by. You know, for the world's supposed greatest detective, he refuses to use even a quarter of his brain towards people he claims to care about."

"When has he ever claimed to care about me?"

"Touche," the comm went quiet again as the two started in another direction and Jason began to turn towards where he knew Chloe would run into the man soon enough.

"Shit!" He whipped back around at Oracle's curse.

"He's caught sight of you, Robin. Sorry Tim, you've got to make your choice now, he's headed your way," she let off a stream of curses as everyone froze for a moment before everything went into motion once more.

Jason directed his team to intercept as the assassin gestured the bird forward, allowing him to run ahead of her away from Batman as the others took on the Bat, attempting to distract the man from his goal. 

He hated the idea of forcing Tim into facing off with Bruce at this point. He deserved the time to make his mind up first. That however seemed to be off the table as the bat evaded them all as best he could, taking advantage of their using miraculous they were less familiar with to escape and continue his pursuit of the red, green, and yellow suit running away from the scene.  At his juncture, all he could do was keep on the man's cape, following him leap for leap towards the two getaways.

The two were lithe and agile, keeping pace together as they bounded from rooftop to rooftop, slipping around corners and scurrying up walls with not a moment to spare as the Bat's size prevented him from making the same moves.

Robin would yank her down side alleys and up hidden ramps he left about the city as she guided him through the less savory parts of town that she grew up with Jason in, knowing hidden pathways and spaces too small and unknown for the bulk of the larger pursuants to follow, losing distance while trying to relocate the two without slowing down. Sure, Jason knew those paths as well as she did, but there was no way he would give that away, forcing the man to continue moving to evade him, even without a clear direction of which way they went.

At one point, Batman landed a hair too close, hand snagging into the cape of Robin's uniform. It was sheer luck on all of their parts that his companion noticed a second earlier and unclasped the damned thing a moment before, the cape coming loose in the man's hand right above a hundred foot drop, fueling the anger in Jason's blood at the blatant disregard for the boy's safety. He felt his eyes tilt green, but fought off the urge, forcing his focus on keeping up with the three to ensure the man never caught up with the two.

They swerved off path and Jason wished he could say he realized what was happening, but unfortunately couldn't as they landed directly in the path of the two, cutting them off from their escape.

Robin lurched back into the Assassin's chest, where she steadied him before offering for him to hide behind her despite the similarity in stature not offering much in the way of coverage. Jason gave props for the way Robin shook his head and stood firmly in place, once more emotionless. Not guilty as the first Robin might've been, nor defiant as he would've. Simply closed off in a glacier ice in contrast to Batman's thunderous storm.

"Robin. You look well," the bats eyes narrowed.

"Well thank you, I appreciate your noticing," he responded in the clipped tone of the backhanded socialites he was raised around, knowing how it irritated Bruce when the sarcasm was laced with sincerity.

"With such health, I must wonder why you've yet to return," Batman hedged, starting to put together the pieces.

"Simply observing all my options as I was advised. Would hate to miss out on a better opportunity due to negligence."

The man growled, hearing the accusation for what it was. Jason moved closer behind him, ready to intervene if needed. The figure behind Tim closed in as well, resting a careful hand on the boy's back. The man before them only seemed to tense up at this, lurching forward, only for the way to be blocked.

"Oh hey, Birdy. Looks like you have some interesting company here, mind introducing me?" Nightwing casually strolled over to Robin, draping his arm across smaller shoulders and leading him away, smiling at the assassin, eyes cutting to Batman in a challenge, "I'm sure the Bat won't mind seeing himself out so I can catch up with my baby brothers."

The man tensed up, taking in their figures, three of which he trained himself, another that received the same, if not more training than him. Then glancing up to the four dark figures watching from further up, ready to descend at a moment's notice. Looking back to his eldest, his scowl deepened, but he nodded and took off from the group.

Jason couldn't help but wonder if it were due to the likelihood of his loss or just not thinking Tim worth the effort. As much as the latter pissed him off, he couldn't help but be glad for the lack of a fight. He's not sure how long he could hold off the pit madness had it come to blows.

As soon as the Bat fell out of range, Robin looked up towards Nightwing, "You're here as well?"

"Oracle sent me in. I think we have some catching up to do," he smiled at the boy, then looked up towards Jason as though to include him in his words.

Marinette chose this moment to speak up from under her guise, "Oh hey, Richard. Fancy seeing you here."

#jasonette #maribat #ml x dc #WFTW #part 21 #two chapters left #has it really been two and a half months since i started this? #woah

[kisskissbanggang]

@starxblossom - entirely overdue, thank you for your patience

Alright below the cut is literally just me responding to some fic feedback by my darling Rae it is just

too long

to not put under a read more so move along

Let me set the scene: I woke up entirely too late this morning, spending the previous night - more appropriately, early dawn - mourning the fact that my laptop crashed in the middle of me playing Stardew Valley. Rolling out of bed, I knew what I planned to get done today, but after such a sour night, the ball got rolling pretty late. Nevertheless, I’m more than glad to be overly-opinionated about something, if only you still want to hear what I have to say - otherwise feel free to ignore this 😂

Barely bothering with an outfit, I merely threw on my fluffy robe, slipped on the pair of glasses that I need, yet refuse, to wear more consistently, and tied my hair up in that half-effort pony tail that I only wear when I have a long day of analysing to do. By this point, I have powered through four cups of English Breakfast (because I am trying so hard to kick my coffee habits), and I’m overdue for my fifth one. 

The sun sets quite fast these days; or maybe I’ve just been waking up too late. But by the time I’ve powered through most of the list - my reading device has signalled its need to be recharged so I decided to hold off on the last two on the list (Prowl and The Sabotage of Simkung House) for the following day - the sun has set and the street lamps glow orange within the misty winter evening. 

I’ve always liked your writing - still very much do. And for a long time, I can admit that I was envious of how well you can write, how well you understand your characters and their motivations, and how aware you are of what’s happening in the story from start to finish. I used to punish myself for not being nearly as good as you. I say all of this not to guilt you, but to express my humbled gratitude, that you would turn to me and consistently seek out my opinion. So I tried to be constructive, not just bombard you with well-deserved praises, but also see the work objectively too. 

SO let me set the scene. Over the past few months, I have sent you every single thing I write because I’m a glutton for feedback and validation, but also because I found something so touching and forward in how you found me in the first place. You came to me, said you enjoyed my work, only to find out that you’re a terrific and talented writer and human being in general in your own right? I value your take on all art so, so much, and I’ve figured I’ve been greedy on numerous occasions, but I also treasured your critique when it’s difficult to do that to a friend’s work.

So here’s where I’m at. I worked from home today, and this morning starts out fine enough until I deal with a very agitated client on the phone. I’m dour as I sip on the cold brew boba I made this morning in a fit of restless self-criticism, and check my inbox on a whim because I know I’m terrible at keeping up and see your feedback on not just one or two, but nearly EVERYTHING that you hadn’t caught up on yet.

As an added note, I also don’t wear my glasses nearly as much as I should. They spend much more time on top of my head than they should.

Now, shall we begin?

Standby

What I like most about Standby, and really all of your writings, is that it often calls to question, something of a moral dilemma. In Standby, the dilemma is clear, ‘is love allowed to exist in the professional work environment?’, but not just that, there’s also the factor of Chan being an idol and MC being a staff member. Already, there are plenty layers of politics(?) at play here - public vs private, media/celebrity status, gender inequality, etc. Looking over my notes [yes, I wrote physical notes as I read each piece lmao I have too much time now that I’m on semester break], I reserve so many high praises to Standby for constructing a story well, start to finish, and for highlighting the power play effectively through their physical relationship - the sex isn’t just thrown there, it’s an intentional device to shed light to the motivations and the personalities of these characters. It’s not just porn with plot, as you sometimes jokingly claim your writings to be, it’s porn and plot. I’d say other examples of this would be the Keep Away and Asking For It series. 

Playing on this same idea, I’m very fond of Chan and MC’s dynamic - the naive and the hyper-anxious, or better, the idealist and the realist. We’ve all been both at some point in our relationships, so I feel like it’s almost too easy to empathise with both, especially when the stakes are so goddamn high. And because these characters are so fleshed out - as in we understand what’s in it for them - every action and every progression in the story makes complete sense. Every twist has a logical resolution as a result of the reader being able to understand who the characters are. 

In saying this, I don’t know if it’s only because I didn’t re-read everything from the start, but I would love to know exactly why Chan’s in love with the MC, or why he thinks he is. Their relationship is so circumstantial(?), that one could easily strike Chan out as merely delusional.  I think there could’ve been some really interesting storyline about his vulnerabilities as an idealist with such a demanding occupation, or that despite being human his job doesn’t allow him to make mistakes. Perhaps that’s just the pessimist in me refusing to believe he could simply be so ardently in love with the MC in other areas besides their physical romance, but I would’ve loved to see you make room for more emotional confrontations - put the reader right in the thick mud of it all! 

Oh, and before I forget: HyunJae! Best side character I’ve read in a fic in a long while. Well developed and contributed to the story in so many, almost blink and you’ll miss it, ways. I especially love the gradual development of her relationship, going from mentor, to sisterly, to borderline parental. And that line about humanising her in the same way as when you first realise your parent is only human too - genius !!

Your points here on Chan’s development is so entirely valid and a great critique to point out. His motives aren’t fleshed out, and we can blame MC’s lack of seeking that out, but I know it’s really on me. If I dig in, I know I originally wanted Chan to find someone who was efficient and professional he was, but even more in control without being as controlling as other people in his life. She challenges him and keeps him on track when he’s very much in that position with his members on a regular basis. He feels comfortable with MC because he feels he’s seen a side of her she doesn’t really show much, and she’s willing to break those walls down to let him in and that really intrigues him and lights his fire, while also encouraging him to let someone else be in charge when he take a break from being leader for a little bit.

And Hyunjae is best girl. She was so fun to write, and I knew right away she needed a solid arc. It’s heartbreaking to feel like you outgrew a mentor, but if you’re lucky they can still be dear to you in some way.

Young Wings

When you said you wrote Young Wings with me in mind, I was more nervous than I was excited; what could possibly warrant such a level of affection? As an unfortunate result, I read this piece while constantly digging for the answer. Does she think I’d make a good stewardess? Am I this skeptical of cute boys? Oh my God did the pilot just die?! Anyhow, I kept being pleasantly surprised as the story progressed, as the characters are stripped back layer by layer, until they’re both literally naked. And soon enough, I figured out why you said you wrote this story with me in mind. You once mentioned - and I’m gravely paraphrasing here - that you saw me as a romantic, maybe even a hopeless one. I refused to believe the title, convincing myself that I have such a hardened heart [despite loving rom-com’s to a fault]. But no, you’re absolutely right, I’m an absolute sucker for romance. And Young Wings has such a beautiful high, a very warm glow of romance emanating from the two characters. They’re very human, very easy to like. And even though it employs a character dynamic of one being professionally above the other (like in Standby, Chan’s job is clearly a lot more essential that MC’s), it’s a softer approach, in a lot better lighting - Also, tangent, but thank you for addressing sexism in the Flight Attendant industry! 

And I can’t not point out this heartwarming quote:

“The terrifying thing no one told us growing up was that finding your ‘thing’ isn’t a finish line. It’s not like you find it and that’s it. A lot of times it’s more like goalposts. You have to keep passing them and sometimes there’s never a finish line, but you love it and that’s what matters.”

I’m not an active stan of Stray Kids, nor an active stan of Chan. But I very much fell in love with him in this piece!

I forgot what, exactly, was the precise impetus for having you in mind when writing this (aside from your astute recollection of my labeling you a hopeless romantic) and now I remembered! I believe at the time I wrote it you were going through a period of cold feet around school and a career path and general restlessness and apprehension that I remembered regularly suffering through when I was in school. In my own way, I woke up one day and didn’t feel at home in the skies anymore like the MC does. I keep three or four drafts going simultaneously at almost all times, so here I believe I was wrestling with Prowl pt. 3 and feeling a bit harried on the feelings there. I usually end up pivoting to a project with compared or contrasted feelings, so this is the warmth to Prowl’s cold. And you would make a cute flight attendant for what it’s worth.

To Those Who Wait

I’m not gonna lie, I thought this was set up to be a rom-com of sorts, I really did not think this would take such a tense turn. I really like the premise! Again, it’s such an interesting moral dilemma, having to choose between being stubborn or taking the high ground. Perhaps it was in how well the narrative is set up, that I, too, kept waiting for the curtain to be pulled and for Changbin to reveal some underlying plan. I was antsy, and nervous. And as a result, I really didn’t expect the oncoming series of events - I seldom read the warning labels, especially when I trust the writer and I know what kind of content I can expect from them. But this one really did take me by surprise. I love that, in revising the story, it really was all hinted from the beginning - the power play was clear from the moment the MC was introduced as this ball-busting office worker, and Changbin as the polite and reserved assistant - but I was so invested in hunting down the truth, and being disarmed by Changbin’s sickly sweet performance, that I completely missed the underlying motives of their actions/reactions. I also seemed to have made a note about wanting to see more of Changbin’s submissive nature through real life interactions - ie. he had never taken the train before, so in this situation, he was being guided by the MC - but I think that reaches too far over the line of where you intended to put/write this relationship; it’s more of a personal preference really. Anyhow, this was a thrilling read from start to finish - underlined by the fact that Changbin is my fave in Stray Kids ><

A CHANGBIN STAN WE LOVE TO SEE IT. I fell head over heels for Changbin’s IRL rich kid upbringing, like he really did come from this cushy background and he’s still so talented and capable, and I wanted a fun scenario to plant that into. Funny and thrilling was truly where I wanted it, and I do have this projected as a series to really explore this relationship and what, exactly, these two characters are waiting for. And I’m glad you were caught by Changbin’s reveal! It had to be something he was truly ashamed of and that MC would be bitter about for years but could ultimately forgive.

What You Don’t Know

Funnily enough, my first note is that this reminds me a lot of a friendship I had with someone. Even from the way it began - the unbelievably clever line: It’s not like you hated Jisung when you met him. It wasn’t like you liked him, either. Really, you didn’t anything Jisung - with Jisung and the MC going from strangers, to friends, to questionably more than friends. The bloom of their interactions reads so organically -probably because it mirrors my own experiences- even down to Stephanie’s interference. I really do like this one for a lot of reasons: it’s my favourite AU, it’s a setting that is real to me therefore I can vividly feel everything, and the stakes of the relationship aren’t so dire that it makes the pining so much worse, because you can’t justify the jealousy properly. And the dialogues between Jisung and the MC also reads so realistic, it’s not stiff nor vague. It cleverly reflects the stages of their familiarity, from unsure and stilted to playfully affectionate - this is why I’m so especially fond of the first time she tugs his hair, the tense change in the air, asking you if they just crossed a line or simply made the natural progression in their very fond relationship. ( Also don’t think that scene with MC and Chan in the car is just going to fly over my head missy, I need to know the history there! ) I like this for a multitude of reasons, all of which are deeply influenced by the fact that I’ve been in the MC’s exact shoes. The only difference being that I did not sleep with that friend, and his Stephanie made us stop talking to each other. Otherwise, this story made me squeal, 10/10 for realism!

Yes! Who doesn’t love a college au? They’re so easy to retreat back to. I was literally inspired by a joke in Scrubs (“I nothing you” is the line there) and built an entire scenario around that. The sub argument is an infamous embarrassing moment for me where I did, repeatedly, label one of our friends as a sub and definitely definitely definitely thought of how easy it’d be to prove it like the MC does and NOW IT’S WEIRD WHEN HE CALLS MY PARTNER TO HANG OUT ON THE PHONE ALL THE TIME. I think we’ve all had to deal with a Stephanie (I certainly have) but I hate that yours drove you away! I always thought this scenario was a little universal, but I didn’t expect it to be to that extent. Also, don’t worry, the Chan story gets explained down the line.

Au Pair 

I cannot stress this enough, but I love this!! The premise reads like a telenovela, with a quiet tension that can only be found when a scene is handled as expertly as you have. As a result, from the get go, I think I was just waiting for the trouble to kick in. I thought it would hit during the pool scene, or perhaps even the dining room scene when Carson refuses his food. But what I didn’t expect was for the first kick to not even include the MC, but rather just be something that she observed - classic telenovela ! I re-read that paragraph thrice because my jaw dropped. I knew something bad was going to happen, but I really didn’t expect it to be that! I know you wrote is as a oneshot, but I really would love to read more of this. I feel like it could have been fleshed out a bit more, really unpack the characters and their motives. I feel like I’m just getting a taster of something amazing here, something really dramatic and jaw-dropping. I’d also love to see things from Carson’s perspective somehow too! Something I’ve picked up during my babysitting days, very young children tend to subconsciously reflect a lot of a family’s conflicts. Carson is obviously smart, but he’s also a kid, and in a family structure like that with - as you said - a rotation of authority figures, I feel like he could have a lot to contribute, especially as a narrative device! Also I love your choice of mystery member! I think it makes complete sense, I really couldn’t see anyone else for the role, he’s a very fitting choice! I’m obviously fond of this one, it got me really invested, and - I’m not meaning this in a demanding way - I only wish I could read more of it. 

A telenovella I LIVE. I guess growing up with Days of Our Lives paid off. This is one of those readings I never expected but I’m thriving off of. I love a good turn of a character feeling like they’ve exposed themselves as a fool, and I’m glad it read well here. Carson IS smart and I love that idea of his perspective. At one point I did picture a small epilogue where Miranda steps up to the plate while the Mystery Member and MC run away and start a new life in San Francisco where he becomes head chef of a trendy fusion restaurant.

Exposure 

This made me incredibly nervous in the same way Surreptitious made my hands clammy. Because not only am I (a) a photographer who (b) will pass as a child given the right outfit and mannerisms, but © I know what it’s like to be asked to give up your artistic integrity in exchange for money or exposure (ba dum tsss). So this hits home a little too hard, especially that you made Doyoung the photographic subject rip. But I really really like this one too! It was thrilling in the ways I least expected it to be, this undercover adventure of being a paparazzi, and the active use of disguises to reflect an outward character that Jungwoo has the pleasure of, well, pleasuring himself to - which I think is what makes her last outfit in the story, the black ensemble, all the more interesting!

I also love seeing Jungwoo portrayed this way, that you didn’t entirely sacrifice his disarmingly innocent aura, but you also gave him a devilish streak - so faithful to how I personally imagine him. It’s a wonderful balance that kind of perfectly hits the middle ground, and makes him such an interesting and almost unpredictable character. And I love the MC in this, that she has an inner integrity that is undercut by the way she dresses as these multiple characters throughout the story - I think two two characters compliment each other well. She outwardly presents dynamism, while Jungwoo represents it more inwardly. So when they come together, it’s so masterful and I cannot peel my eyes away from them. I also really like that you didn’t make either one a dom or a sub, which only speaks so much more to that dynamic previously mentioned. It works so especially well, given what we know about these characters, and the non-stakes of their story arcs. I want to see more of this, but I’d also be really satisfied with where it ends. It leaves such a well-rounded note of camaraderie between the two characters, that in my head, I’m rooting for them to somehow end up together. 

I felt like I entirely punted this one across the finish line so I am FLOORED by your reading and response. I wanted to try something a little different and felt so, SO self-conscious the whole time I was convinced it showed, so I’m honesty surprised it was effective. I’ve had my own experiences as well with lying to get a job done, but my biggest goal was to challenge the Jungwoo Innocent Baby Boy narrative that the fandom likes to feed into, so I’m VERY glad that was effective.

I just realised that this is now over 2k long, so it’s a good thing that I’m finishing here. Like I said earlier, I’ll be venturing to read Prowl and The Sabotage of Simkung House tomorrow, so expect to hear from me again soon. Otherwise have a good night, or morning, depending when you read this, and thank you for writing such wonderful stories! Truly, you continue to impress me as a writer, and I’m humbled to be your friend.

So by the end of my first reading of these notes, I was pretty much in tears because I loved that you took the time to do this, to read my work that you are not obligated to and give me feedback that I am not entitled to. I love you to bits, Rae, and it stuns me that I found a friend on the other side of the sunset that I feel like I can confide in and look to for guidance. I hope you know how much you shine. ❤️

#FEEDBACK #OH MY GOD RAE #starxblossom #my children #submission

[noldorinwa]

Chocolate Box Letter

Dear Chocolate Box writer, 

Thank you for checking this out, and sorry about the delay! 

Here are a bunch of fandom and pairing-specific likes and prompts. All my requests are for fic, and I’m open to all ratings. I’m very excited for just about anything I might receive for any of these pairings, and so long as you stick to something related to my general likes, feel free to follow specific prompts as much or as little as you wish, depending on where inspiration takes you!

 I’m lunavagant on AO3.

General Likes

Worldbuilding

Casefic

Banter and humor

Canon divergence

Emotional vulnerability / repressed feelings / pining

Character study

Codependency 

Characters being possessive or jealous 

Loyalty

Hurt/comfort

Open endings / hopeful endings

Enemies to lovers / friends (especially childhood friends) to lovers

Smut specific likes: frottage; penetration; clothed sex; begging; orgasm delay/denial; emotional sex; power dynamics; overstimulation; fingering; oral sex 

DNWs

Unrequested death of requested characters

Unrequested tragic endings

Unrequested gender headcanons 

Pregnancy 

A/B/O

Bi Richie or Bi Eddie for IT 

 DISCWORLD

There isn't enough Discworld fic in the world, and I would be ecstatic to read just about anything for any combination of characters, really. Some that I am especially fond of but haven't nominated are Sybil, Nobby, William de Worde, Moist, Adora Belle, Polly Perks, and Maladict. 

Anything from a plotty fic to something humorous and dialogue-heavy would be the best thing ever. Footnotes are more than welcome if inspiration strikes. 

 Angua von Uberwald & Samuel Vimes

I would give just about anything for Sam and Angua buddy cop adventures in Ankh-Morpork and beyond. These cynical bastards are two of the characters in the Watch books that most closely resemble each other personality-wise, and anything involving them interacting would be a delight. 

Casefic of any kind, even just a snippet of an ongoing investigation, or everyday Watch shenanigans. 

I really enjoyed Angua and Sam's cameos in Monstrous Regiment, and would love to see more of something of that kind - either set during/post MR canon or in a different setting altogether. 

Any and all interactions with William or Moist especially would be amazing. Especially with both of them being aware that there is a werewolf in the Watch, and both of them very much Not knowing that the werewolf is Angua.    

 Havelock Vetinari & Samuel Vimes

(The tag doesn���t require it, but I’m all for making their relationship shippy – either explicitly or implicitly by hinting at suppressed feelings.)

Feel free to integrate these prompts with the Sam & Angua ones if you're inspired to. 

Pre-series: Sam ends up saving Vetinari’s life much earlier than canon – back when he’s been just recently promoted to Captain of the Watch, and Vetinari is still consolidating his power as Patrician. For all that he's still having to work to make himself heard and respected, young Vetinari probably privately enjoys Sam's irreverence more than he lets on. How does their relationship evolve from there? 

Amnesia fic in which Vetinari has a magic-related accident of some kind (or maybe it's a failed assassination attempt) and ends up forgetting the past five or so years. Maybe he wakes up to Sam sitting by the bed and immediately calls Sam “Captain” instead of Commander? 

Casefic, again! Bickering over case reports! Vetinari messing with Sam by sending people like government inspectors over to the Watch whenever Sam does something annoying (for that matter, what IS the story behind Vetinari sending over A.E. Pessimal? I am Dying to know). Discussions on the need for a free press in Ankh-Morpork, in light of the fact that A) Sam considers William to be a public menace but unfortunately B) Vetinari finds Sam's exasperation hilarious.  

Time travelling shenanigans inspired by Night Watch. Memories, glimpses of parallel realities, Young Sam and Young Havelock interacting. I am also 100% here for Young Vetinari/Sam!Keel.

Any combination of the above ideas, or something new entirely that fits my general likes would be great!

 IT (MOVIES)

Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier

Fandom specific DNWs: Bi Richie; Bi Eddie; Kidfic; Nicknames that aren’t movie canon

Eddie lives! He just does, because I said so. Angst and temporary character death are more than fine, though. 

I’m here for it all, to be honest, from frantic we-almost-died sex back at the hotel in Derry, to Richie and Eddie attempting to get back to their lives and staying “just friends”, and failing spectacularly. 

Infidelity, angsty misunderstandings, and messy attempts at dealing with your marriage when you're gay and in love with your male best friend are all concepts that are right up my alley with these two. 

Maybe Richie manages to push Eddie out of the way just in time while fighting It in the sewers, and gets injured himself. How does Eddie act with their positions reversed?

I have the biggest soft spot for the two of them as teens, and I would love any exploration of their relationship then. 

Finding excuses to get in each other’s space – sitting close together on the couch, or at the movies, in the hammock, sleeping in the same bed. Richie teasing Eddie constantly just to have an excuse to touch him. Eddie constantly nagging Richie to have an excuse to do the same.  

Sleepovers! Pretending to be asleep to ‘accidentally’ cuddle up to one another. Cuddling turning into something else. 

Banter turning into flirting and both of them insisting it’s all a big joke until it doesn’t feel like a joke anymore, but never taking the final step for fear of being wrong or rejected. Richie dealing with internalized guilt over wanting to touch his best friend in ways he’s not supposed to want.  

Richie crushing on Eddie and being terrified of being found out, but unable to bring himself to stop making jokes, or taking every chance to be as close to Eddie as possible. Richie struggling with himself over his desire to be physically close to Eddie – he would never do anything, so surely he’s allowed this? But then again if Eddie knew about the way Richie feels he wouldn’t want Richie to touch him at all. 

Eddie crushing on Richie and not even realizing it until he doesn’t have Richie’s attention directly on him for more than one minute, then getting restless, or insanely jealous in case Richie is directing said attention elsewhere.

All kinds of awkward but earnest teen explorations of sexuality would be delightful.  

If you’re inspired to write smut, I vastly prefer Richie bottoming and/or being generally submissive in bed. Eddie, on the other hand, probably gets a rush from finding out that Richie likes being told what to do. I also believe that it’s much more likely for Richie to be the one to freak out about (or during!) sex. For all that he’s just as repressed, Eddie is also a stubborn bastard, and once he’s concluded that he wants to sleep with Richie he would be a man on a mission. 

 KNIVES OUT

Marta Cabrera/Ransom Drysdale

I watched this movie by myself and only distantly registered the fact that I found the idea of these two appealing. Then I watched it again with my friend and about halfway through she went, "you know what, I ship this," and I realised that she was right.  

Someone in a different letter referred to this ship as Marta accidentally collecting a pet sociopath, and that's so on point I'm going to quote it. 

Angry sex, power dynamics, enemies to lovers, the possibilities are endless. Ransom deserves to be pushed around a bit and he’d be into it way more than he’d like to openly admit.

Canon divergence in which Ransom is still a total dick but not the killer. Maybe Marta really did accidentally kill Harlan. Maybe it was somebody else. Basically I'd just like to see more of the reluctant partnership they struck during the movie, with both of them finding each other's moral compasses (or lack thereof) an absolute pain in the ass. 

Post-canon, Ransom gets out of jail and finds that the family is still plotting to take Marta down, and if they can't do that through legal means, well. They'll just have to get creative. Either he decides to side with her for reasons unclear even to him, or they are thrown together by the circumstances and have no choice but to collaborate and lean on each other if they want to survive. Ransom insisting that he's only trying to keep Marta alive because he plans on getting money out of her somehow, even when it becomes clear that there's something else at play. 

Banter, fights, bickering and insulting each other while working together surprisingly – and annoyingly – well. Ransom surprising Marta by making the right choice at a critical moment, and then immediately going back to being an asshole. Marta fighting dirty and Ransom being into it.

Thank you for reading this, and have fun!

#chocolate box 2020 #choc box 2020 #mine

[bevioletskies]

bring it on home to me [5/5]

summary: The fight of everyone’s lives may be over, but for Nebula, Peter, and the rest of the Guardians, the search for the person they love most has just begun.

a/n: MAJOR spoiler warning for Avengers: Endgame, though I am a little vague about the events of what happened. Regardless, please don’t let me spoil it for you!

Fic title is, of course, from the song Bring It On Home To Me by Sam Cooke.

word count: 6.8k | ao3 | tag

Gamora woke in a shallow body of water that seemed to stretch onward and forever, for as far as the eye could see. Though she was lying flat on her back, the water level was so low she could see the tips of her toes breaking its surface. She was also fully clothed, the weight of the leather and metal growing even heavier by the second, and she struggled to get herself up into a seated position to look at her surroundings.

The water seemed to be settled over an endless sand dune that curved up and down in graceful, fluid shapes. Colors were made more vibrant by the sharp orange glow of an immortal sunset, casting everything in warm, harsh tones. There was a cliff in the distance whose peak disappeared far beyond the clouds, but there were no other structures, man-made or otherwise, to be seen. Her blood ran cold in the realization of where she was, what had happened the last time she was here, but when she lifted both her hands and opened her clenched fists, they were empty.

She got to her feet, patting her pockets and her utility belt to check that all her weapons were still on her. Once she was certain, she set off in the direction of the cliff. She wasn’t sure how she was going to get to the top, but she knew she’d be damned if she didn’t try.

It wasn’t long before she felt something shift, like a staccato twinge growing insistently in her belly, only she wasn’t hungry, injured, or sore. If anything, it didn’t really disturb her at all, though it did vaguely feel like someone was tapping on her organs, which in itself was a disturbing thought. Another body modification? she thought. Then, that can’t be right. I escaped Thanos nine years ago. Another pause. Nine years?

Her heart beat just a little bit faster in her chest, and she stopped moving to think, to really think. Nine years, four years, maybe never...it wasn’t about where she was, it was about when she was, wasn’t it? Or something like that, anyway.

She started walking again, her footsteps dragging through the sand. Her gear knocked persistently against her hips as if to remind her it was there, though she saw no foe - or friend - of any kind. A minute passed, then five, then another ten, and she stopped to turn, over and over again, realizing she was no closer than before. She let out a cry of frustration, a noise that was instantly swallowed up by the still atmosphere, but she kept going. Twenty, thirty, forty minutes, all in a numbing silence that made her brain feel fuzzy. There was no wind, no humidity, no nothing, just the vastness of a space that was all too familiar to her, one that she never wanted to be in again.

“What do you think you’ll find up there, my love?”

Gamora froze at the sound of a voice she hadn’t heard in years, years that she could no longer count. She drew her switchblade and turned, finding herself staring at a face that she sometimes couldn’t remember. “Mother?”

“In a way.” She smiled, bittersweet. Her mother looked as if she hadn’t aged a day, looking far closer to Gamora’s age than she had any right to be, wearing the clothes she had been on the day she’d died. “What do you think is at the top of the cliff?”

“The solution...to a problem I can’t identify.” She returned her mother’s placating smile with a wan one of her own. Her blade went back into its holster, though she couldn’t help but keep her hand hovering over its hilt. She wouldn’t put it past Thanos or any number of her enemies for planting a cruel illusion in her head. “I know what happened to me, and I know why it happened. I...must have been brought back here somehow, resurrected and restored. But I don’t belong in this place. I belong with my friends, my family. And if they’re up there, I need to get to them.”

“I don’t imagine you’ll be here for too long,” her mother replied, taking a step closer to brush a loose strand of hair out of her face. “They’re calling for you, darling. They’re waiting for you to come back. But there’s a longing in you to talk to someone, and I’m here to listen.”

She sucked in a breath. “How much time do we have?”

Her mother cupped her jaw. The warmth of her fingers was the first thing Gamora could really, truly feel. “As long as you need.”

______

The Sovereign’s medical ward was so blindingly gold that Peter was certain his own father would have wept at the sight of it, though he knew he was in no position to complain about its ostentatiousness. The High Priestess had been hostile at first, as expected, nearly shooting the Benatar right out of the atmosphere before they could even come close to landing, and then looked down at them both figuratively and literally as they knelt in front of her throne, heads bowed, humbling themselves until it pleased her. After long, arduous minutes of grovelling, she granted them subpar food and barely-satisfactory quarters, then called for her best doctors and scientists to prepare Gamora for her procedure. “Their knowledge of the mind, body, and soul comes from my abilities, and my abilities alone. You’ll find they’re unlike anything else you can find on any other world,” she had simpered. The Guardians didn’t care much for the details of how her so-called “spirit restoration” powers worked, only that they would.

“What’s it called?” Peter had asked. They had all been standing around the operating table, which only irritated the head surgeon further. Peter had been bombarding the experts with questions about the effects, the consequences, anything that could possibly go wrong. The others were simply watching Gamora in silent support, hoping they didn’t look as nervous as they felt.

“The Paragon Program,” Ayesha had replied, smiling in a wicked way that made them shiver. “To ensure our people are as perfect as can be. Seeing as your Gamora was the only one who cared to show me any sort of respect during our first encounter, I will grant her with our highest honor, and treat her as one of our own. She will come back more perfect than you could ever imagine.”

Peter had turned to look at Gamora, lying perfectly still on the table in her medical gown. There was a crease of worry between her browbones, but her mouth was set in a hard, straight line of determination. He had smiled in a sort of melancholic manner. “She was already perfect.”

Now, Gamora was alone in the operating room, hooked up to a few machines that the doctors claimed were monitoring her vitals, but looked about as ornate and useless as every other decorative statue on their self-indulgent planet. She took a soft breath in, then out. The first part of the procedure was over - “taking a glimpse into her brain”, as the High Priestess had called it, to make sure she was physically and mentally able to handle what was about to happen. They were giving her a few minutes to herself before continuing with the second part, which they assured her was perfectly safe and had been done dozens of times before, but didn’t make her feel any less wary.

It had become clear to Gamora quite quickly that these Guardians, this apparent team of hers, was more than just her team - they were her family. Nebula had briefly touched on what her relationships with them had been like, but it was also made evident in person. Last night, they had an uncomfortable dinner with the High Priestess who made snide remarks about some incident she knew nothing about, apparently resulting in her people pursuing them on Peter’s father’s planet.

“And here I thought you were the cleverest of your little group, but clearly, you fell in with them for a reason,” Ayesha had said, very well knowing that Gamora had no memory of the event. “Perhaps it wasn’t your knowledge that took your life, but karma. Retribution for your many sins.”

The others had shot out of their chairs immediately. “You take that back, lady!” Rocket had snarled, immediately drawing one of his guns. A few guards flocked to Ayesha’s side, but she merely waved them off with a condescending chuckle.

“Don’t forget, I’m doing all of you the favor of a lifetime,” she had replied. “I suggest you put your weapons down.”

“I am a weapon,” Mantis had shot back, her voice unusually low, her antennae glowing dangerously. “Do not talk badly about Gamora, or it will end badly for you.”

“You’re adorable,” Ayesha had drawled. “Did Quill feed you that line?”

“Do not waste another breath,” Nebula had interjected, looking to the others and meeting their hardened gazes. Slowly, they all sat back down, though Rocket and Peter still had their trigger fingers ready. “We can take comfort in the fact that my sister is, and will always be, a person worth saving.” Nebula narrowed her eyes at Ayesha. “I do not know if the same can be said of you.”

After dinner, the Guardians had gone to linger in a small sitting room, too restless to sleep at a reasonable hour before Gamora’s big day. She had sat by the fireplace, eavesdropping on bits and pieces of conversation happening behind her. She was unable to keep up with the inside jokes and the acerbic banter, but secretly enjoyed the dynamic all the same.

Drax had stopped by briefly to hand her a warm drink. “You seem nervous,” he had observed. “If the High Priestess’s scientists are to be believed, you have a minimal chance of dying.”

Gamora had chuckled, accepting the mug with a grateful smile. “It is no longer death that I’m afraid of. It’s the fear of disappointing all of you. As I’ve been told...as I’ve witnessed...your Gamora was loved.”

“We will be disappointed if it doesn’t work, yes,” Drax had nodded thoughtfully. “But you, as you are, would not disappoint us. You are our friend...despite whatever shortcomings you may have.”

“A heartwarming sentiment,” she had deadpanned, shaking her head amusedly when he continued nodding in blasé agreement before walking away. She had turned back to look at the fire, into its crackling flames, and took a sip of her drink.

Before going to bed, Peter had lingered outside her door, wanting to speak with her in private one last time. She had emerged from the bathroom, caught off-guard by his presence. “Quill?”

“I, uh, I just wanted to thank you again,” he had said. He had sounded rushed, like he was trying to get everything he was thinking out at once. “Couldn’t’ve been an easy decision to make.”

“No, I think it was,” she had said softly. “As I told you on Knowhere, this universe is not my own. This universe was always hers. She saved the galaxy, and the galaxy saved her in return. My purpose is to restore her in the place she belongs, among the people she loves, the people she saves. It’s of no consequence to my existence.”

He had laughed. “You’re more like her than you think, y’know.”

“I hope so.” She had opened the door to her room, her hand lingering on the doorknob, and she turned to look at him. His expression had been impossibly soft, fond, reserved just for her. She had smiled in return. “Goodnight...Peter.”

The head surgeon approached her, drawing her out of her thoughts, looking her up and down rather derisively. “Are you ready for part two?”

Gamora slowly laid back on the table, squeezing her eyes shut so she wasn’t blinded by the overhead lights. She thought of the Guardians, of her sister, of her parents - her real parents, and her rapidly beating heart slowed down to a gentle, steady pulse. “Yes.” ______

“You implied you weren’t my mother,” Gamora commented after they’d been walking in companionable silence for some time. Only now did it seem like they were making progress, with the cliff steadily growing closer and closer. “And I doubt you’re her spirit or her soul, either.”

“Clever girl,” her mother said, smiling. “You’re correct. I am none of them. I am, however, part of your soul. A projection, if you will. One you’ve called upon to keep you company on your way back. And...it seems you have some unfinished business to attend to.”

Gamora frowned. “I have no debts, monetary or otherwise. No promises, no vows - ”

“To yourself, my love,” she corrected with a gentle laugh. “There is conflict in you. I don’t think there’s a single person in the entire universe that doesn’t.”

“I’ve made no secret of my feelings about myself,” she said, suddenly finding it hard to look her mother in the eye. “But I’ve also come to accept that not all of my burdens are meant to be borne forever, and they are not meant to burden me, and me alone. What I’ve done, who I’ve become...they’re all a part of me that I have to live with.” She then glanced down at her hands as if she were seeing them for the first time, turning them over and splaying her fingers wide. “And there are memories...they aren’t mine. This body belonged to someone else.”

“I see you’re catching on.” Her mother gestured to a flat rock that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. “Why don’t we sit for a moment? We’re in no rush.”

They both settled down with their legs tucked beneath them, hands folded in their laps in a near-identical manner. The orange glow of the invisible sun wasn’t as blinding by now, having simmered down to something more pleasant to the eye. Gamora could see her mother’s face better this way, and though she knew it wasn’t truly her mother, her heart still ached at the sight of how young she looked. It seemed unjust that she had no wrinkles, no laugh lines, no sunspots, nothing that indicated a life well lived. Her father had been older than her mother by a few years, and had begun forming semi-permanent creases in the corners of his eyes from how much he liked to laugh. His hands had been a little rougher, his joints a little stiffer, but still, he would come home from a long day’s work and sweep Gamora off her feet and onto his shoulders, moving like a man who was ten years younger.

“Do you like yourself, Gamora?”

Her head turned sharply, startled. “Wh...what?”

“Do you find it difficult to answer?” Her mother’s identical dark eyes fixated on her intently. “You seemed certain once that your answer was ‘no’. Have you changed your mind?”

Gamora looked back down at her lap, fiddling with the rings that adorned her fingers. “I hated myself. I hated my life.” Her left hand lacked the scar across her knuckle that she’d gotten during a mission that ended with her and Peter chained together and left dangling over a pit of snarling Vrellnexians. It burned far less than the permanent teeth marks on her thigh from one of Thanos’s training sessions gone wrong (or perhaps entirely right, from his perspective). “I find that that’s no longer the case.”

“That isn’t what I asked,” she said patiently. “Be honest, now. The only one listening is you.”

Gamora smiled to herself. “I...I do like myself. More than I thought I ever would. I have no aspirations of being perfect, but if I put my best effort forward, I feel no need to hold myself to an impossible standard set by me or anyone else.”

“That’s quite a long-winded way of saying ‘yes’,” she remarked dryly. “So you’ve found peace...but you still have regrets.”

“I would think far less of myself if I didn’t regret all the things I did when I was with Thanos.” Gamora shivered reflexively; his name had become a curse. “I’ve done things I’ve regretted even after leaving him...said things I wish I could take back. But there’s no use in punishing myself after I’ve already atoned for my failures. I am no less deserving because of them.”

“Deserving of what, my love?”

Gamora let out an exhale of quiet disbelief. Even her own subconscious couldn’t help but ask the questions she never wanted to be asked, in a time when she wanted nothing more than to finally rest. “Redemption, forgiveness...companionship. My family. I’ve earned every last one...haven’t I?”

“I’ve never known you to be so hesitant, Gamora. Say it.” She took both of Gamora’s hands in hers, leaning in closer and closer until Gamora could count all the colors in her eyes. “Say it like you mean it.”

Gamora laughed wetly; she had never felt so ridiculous in her life. She closed her eyes, lifted her chin, and smiled. “I deserve to be happy.”

And just like that, she felt a warmth in her chest, a weight off her shoulders, a soft breeze whistling through her hair. It was like all the cliches in the world had come to life, ones that she thought only existed in the fantasies of others, having long abandoned entertaining such ideas so long ago. There was no magical epiphany or glorious music, exactly, but an ease in her body, a comfort in her mind, that made it known it wasn’t over for her, not even in death.

She opened her eyes; her mother’s smile was radiant, more than the invisible sun could ever hope to be. “Are you ready?”

Gamora’s face fell somewhat. “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to return to a life without you. But yes...I’m ready.”

Her mother’s smile turned into something a little sadder, more than a little bit full of longing, and pulled Gamora into a warm embrace. She smelled of sweet medicine and freshly-cut flowers, her hair tickling Gamora’s nose. Gamora squeezed her eyes shut, harder this time, and let out a contented sigh. She needed just one more minute before letting go. ______

Three days came and went, and to everyone’s dismay, Gamora remained asleep in her preservation pod with no sign of waking up. Even the Sovereign experts were beginning to fret, though they tried not to let it outwardly show, given how volatile the Guardians could be. They were already starting to pick fights with each other as if they were to blame. Peter and Drax yelled at each other often and at length, while Rocket threatened to shoot them both with the Hadron Enforcer if they didn’t shut up. Mantis worried more loudly than everyone else, having unfortunately taken on the brunt of their heightened emotions that now seared through her brain like the worst imaginable migraine one could have. What little optimism Nebula had left was slowly dwindling away, leaving her snapping at everyone in sight and stomping around like a child.

“With respect, High Priestess, we ask for a closer look at her records,” Peter had said on the morning of the fourth day, kneeling in front of her throne. The others were knelt beside him; there was no room for temper tantrums or snark this time.

“My medics insist upon complete doctor-patient privilege,” she had replied. “But...if you wish to see her heart rate and brain activity, I see no harm in granting you permission. I’m warning you now, Guardians...you may not like what you see.”

Everyone kept watch by Gamora’s side, rotating in paired shifts so they could attempt to get some restless sleep. Conversation was kept to a minimum, no one daring to voice their worries out loud, risking the start of yet another argument. The Sovereign were being unusually generous for the time being, promising that there would be no debt for food, shelter, or medical treatment otherwise, but they had the feeling that could change at any moment.

On the evening of the fifth day, as the sun was setting and everyone was pleasantly full from the usual lush Sovereign dinner, Peter was scrolling through the Zune’s catalogue but not really paying attention to any song that popped up on the screen. Nebula was sat beside him with her arms folded across her chest, watching her sister’s face through the glass of the preservation pod unblinkingly.

“I became a Guardian in your absence.” The suddenness of her voice caused Peter to fumble with the Zune, nearly dropping it on the golden tile floor. “Otherwise...Rocket would have had no one. Like me.”

“He grows on you, don’t he?” Peter remarked. He sounded oddly fond considering he and Rocket had a spat about Ayesha’s true intentions just two hours ago, and had resorted to glowering at each other across the dining table in seething silence.

“My point, Quill…” she said through gritted teeth, “...is that I became a Guardian out of necessity. Now, it is merely a choice I have to make.” She turned to look him dead in the eye. “Whether my sister returns as she was or as she is or...not at all...my choice remains the same.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “Oh!”

“God, you’re an idiot,” she sighed, though there wasn’t any real heat behind her words.

Peter merely grinned in a sort of endearing way that incited Nebula’s usual urge of wanting to punch him, or at the very least elbow him in the gut so he’d stop. She begrudgingly found herself unable to do so since he looked happier than he had in days. “I’m not even gonna bother responding to that. But I was right - you’re a Guardian, through and through.”

“Of my own choice, not of your volition,” she sneered. She was already starting to regret saying anything.

“And she’s gonna come back,” he continued. “Gamora don’t give up so easy.”

“I believe it’s a matter of ‘if’, not ‘when’.” Nebula’s gaze returned to her sister’s face, the only thing she could see through the small glass window. Her expression remained the same - a semi-relaxed posture, her eyes comfortably shut, her mouth in a sort of half-smile. She looked like she was dreaming about something pleasant, something she didn’t want to leave behind.

“It’s gonna be ‘when’,” Peter insisted, frowning. “C’mon, Nebula, don’t think like that.”

“I have spent my whole life thinking like that,” she murmured. “You and I both saw her vital readings, her bloodwork. The chances of her returning to us are minimal, returning to us in a restored state even less so.”

He laughed in disbelief. “You never know when to quit, do you? You’re always about the worst-case scenario, and the murderin’, and, and the attitude, god, it’s the worst! Woulda thought you’d’ve changed at least a little in five years.”

“Coming from a man who still insists he can talk his way out of any situation and refuses to mature past his idealized childhood,” she shot back. “You’re an imbecile, Quill. It’s no wonder your ‘friends’ are seeking a real leader.”

“And you’re a piece of work,” he snapped, shooting to his feet. “What was I thinkin’, wanting you to be a Guardian when we can’t even have a nice moment for two damn minutes? Maybe I don’t wanna think about the fact that we might’ve just killed another Gamora!”

Nebula recoiled like she’d been slapped clean across the face, though Peter hadn’t made any sort of move towards her aside from the blazing anger in his eyes. They stared at each other for a moment, not daring to move a muscle. Then, there was a quiet, yet distinctive cough.

“You haven’t killed me yet. But if you continue to argue - ”

“Gamora,” Peter breathed. He immediately ran to the control screen, his fingers trembling as he clumsily navigated his way through several menus before finding what he was looking for. The pod opened with a soft hiss; Nebula could feel her heartbeat pounding in her ears, drowning out the sound of Peter’s poorly-concealed sniffles.

Her initial footsteps were wobbly, her knees knocking together as if she’d never learned how to walk. Peter was by her side in an instant, threading his arm underneath her armpits to keep her upright, guiding her over to a medical bed so she could sit down. Her breath was ragged from the limited oxygen, and she was blinking drowsily into the blindingly golden light, but she was undoubtedly, undeniably alive.

“Sister,” Nebula said quietly. “Do you know us?”

Gamora glanced between them. Her voice was hoarse when she spoke. “Yes.” An odd expression then crossed her face, as if she were just now realizing where she was and what had happened. “My mother...I saw my mother.”

“How is that...possible?” Peter said slowly, kneeling beside her. He tentatively reached out to cup her face, letting out a relieved sigh when she leaned into the touch. “What happened, Gamora? You’ve been asleep for five days.”

“I think...I was in my own realm of the Soul Dimension. Before I went under, I thought of all the people I loved. Maybe that’s why my mother appeared to me. We talked for a while, though not enough.” The corners of Gamora’s mouth tugged upwards, though it seemed reluctant. “I didn’t want to leave her. Not when we had all the time in the universe.”

“So that’s why you didn’t wake up right away,” he reasoned. When she opened her mouth to protest, he took her face in both hands, holding her gently. “Hey, no, it’s okay. Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just...if I saw my mom...I dunno if I’d even have the strength to come back at all. But you did. You always did.”

Gamora placed her hands over his, warm to the touch. He laughed wetly, sinking back further on his heels until his chin was practically resting right on her lap. “I knew I couldn’t stay forever, but it’s alright. I got what I wanted, I said what I needed to say, and now, I feel...peaceful.”

“You were sleeping for a really long time,” he teased, wiping hastily at the tears streaking down his face as he got to his feet. “I’ll get you some water. I should call the doctors in here - hell, our friends, too - ”

“Wait.” Gamora stood as well, steadier this time, and carefully made her way over to Nebula, coming to a stop right in front of her. She was stiff, frozen in place, her eyes following her sister’s every move. “I have memories that don’t belong to me, pieces of conversations that were had with my other self. This must be another’s body, then.”

“Yes.” Nebula hesitated. “Do you remember what I said to your other self while I was held prisoner on Sanctuary?”

Gamora nodded; her eyes were wet now, too. “That we became friends. Sisters.”

Without warning, Nebula suddenly stepped forward and threw her arms around Gamora, pulling her into the tightest hug she’d ever received. Nebula’s elbows were locked tight, her feet an awkward distance away from Gamora’s, but her face was buried in Gamora’s hair, her shoulders trembling from her half-hearted attempt at suppressing her emotional exhaustion. Gamora laughed, wrapping her arms around Nebula’s shoulders in return, her tears falling freely down her cheeks. Peter smiled privately in silent victory, then quietly slipped out of the room to get the others while Gamora and Nebula sank into each other's embrace like they belonged there all along. ______

Gamora walked down the landing ramp of the Benatar with a loud exhale, glad to be free of its odorous atmosphere (Rocket had done some experimental tests with the pipes, damaging the air filtration system as a result). After leaving Sovereign, the Guardians had made a brief stopover on the newly-rebuilt Xandar to speak with Nova Prime, and then left for a three-day-long journey for another planet that remained a mystery to Gamora. All she knew was that it wasn’t for their first mission since her return, but rather a place for rehabilitation until everyone got their bearings back.

Her reunion with everyone else had been overwhelmingly emotional as expected, a complete onslaught of sloppy hugs and messy tears and nonsensical elation, and they’d barely left her alone ever since. Aside from Peter’s relief at being able to share a bed with her again, she never had a meal to herself or even a moment to herself. She couldn’t argue, though, thinking back to the handful of times that one of them had been injured or sick, and she would hover and fuss until they were more frustrated with her than whatever was actually ailing them.

“Over there,” Peter called from behind her. She turned to see him gesturing off into the distance at something, and she followed his eye line to see what it was. The planet seemed amiable, with fresh air and clear skies, green grass beneath her boots and trees that swayed in the mild winds. It was all so...normal, so quiet and gentle and calm. They were in an empty field that stretched on for quite a while before it was interrupted by a tall metal fence. Beyond that was the remains of a building, and what looked to be the beginning of construction for its replacement. It almost seemed familiar, like something her other self knew of but hadn’t remembered very well.

Gamora had grown used to the idea of her other self, a little piece of her soul that had nestled itself neatly in her brain. The Guardians had been keeping a close eye on her to make sure she wasn’t exhibiting any strange behaviors or voicing any worrying thoughts. It seemed, though, that the other Gamora simply existed with no interference or intention. It also meant that she remembered everything Peter and Nebula had said to her, relieving them of the burden of having to say it all over again. Peter seemed intent on retelling his stories anyway as he was oft to do, but Nebula went about it awkwardly, uncertain of how to express any sort of sentiment or affection aside from a stiff pat on the shoulder when they passed by each other on the ship.

“I still don’t understand why we’ve returned to here, of all places,” Nebula complained, kicking a nearby rock out of spite. “This is no idyllic paradise. It’s the remains of a battlefield.”

Gamora paused. “Was this where we fought Thanos?”

Nebula shuddered. “Yes. This is where he died.”

“Peter...this is your home planet. This is Terra,” Gamora said slowly. “You said you never wanted to come back.”

“Yeah, well, I say a lot of things,” Peter shrugged, jogging up beside her and holding out his hand. She took it automatically, interlacing their fingers together, and they began walking with the others following suit. “We’ve got allies here who can keep us safe, and I figured we’d want a little peace and quiet before going back to saving the galaxy.”

“Are you kiddin’? This planet’s never gonna have peace and quiet again,” Rocket snorted. “Everyone in the whole d’ast galaxy is talking about what happened here. Believe me, some other big baddie is gonna get some ideas about comin’ to play.”

“Way to think positive, dude,” Peter snarked, shaking his head.

“Rocket may have a point. Terra is inevitably doomed,” Drax added unhelpfully.

“Don’t agree with me, man, it’s weird,” Rocket complained.

“I am Groot,” Groot said, nearly stumbling over his own feet due to his refusal to look up from his video game screen. He’d been lovingly attentive to Gamora for about two days before she lectured him about eating junk food, and had since gone back to being as sullen as ever.

“So...this is our home for now, then?” Gamora asked. She inhaled another lungful of air; it wasn’t perfect, but it was far better than anything she’d ever experienced on the ship.

“For now.” Peter squeezed her hand. She squeezed back, momentarily reassured.

Their temporary home was a guesthouse with a deck that went out over a lake, far enough from the construction site that the forest obscured the sound of the workers and machinery. Nebula had vaguely explained to her who the guesthouse belonged to and Peter had mentioned they’d been invited to dinner, but truthfully, all she wanted to do was collapse into a bed that didn’t feel like it was made of rock and sleep for a good twelve hours.

Gamora slept for a few hours before waking up, somewhat groggy but alert enough to hear the sounds of the others milling around in the shared living space, chatting quietly. She sat on the edge of the bed, facing the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows of her and Peter’s bedroom, smiling at the sight of birds flitting past the glass, skimming the surface of the lake and disappearing among the trees. She basked in a minute or two of warm silence before there was a knock at the door. “Gamora?”

“Come in,” she called. Mantis stepped in with a bright smile a moment later, her antennae giving off a pleasing glow. “Are we leaving for dinner soon?”

“Not yet. I just wanted to talk to you, I suppose,” Mantis admitted. “Is that okay?”

“Of course.” Gamora softened, patting the spot beside her for Mantis to sit down. “Is something wrong?”

Mantis turned to look her straight on; it was slightly unsettling given the enormity of her eyes. “Did you really speak to your mother?”

“Yes.” Gamora swallowed thickly. “It was...enlightening.”

“May I?” Mantis held out her hand, hovering it mere inches above Gamora’s. At her wordless nod, she gently wrapped her fingers around Gamora’s wrist, then inhaled sharply, her eyes fluttering shut. “You feel...calm. There is some uncertainty about what our future is going to be, but you seem very peaceful. Happy.” Her eyes opened, gazing at Gamora curiously. “What did you talk to her about?”

“It wasn’t...her, exactly.” Gamora hesitated. “But it helped to think of it as her. Like she was guiding me from the afterlife.”

Mantis removed her hand, a melancholic smile crossing her face. “I do not know anything about my parents. Their names, their faces...or if they are still alive. You are very lucky to have seen her again, even if it was not really her.”

“There are still so many unanswered questions for almost all of us,” Gamora mused. “While Drax has a clear understanding of his heritage, and Peter’s solved the terrible truth of his father, Groot has no connection to his history aside from his old memories, Rocket has yet to confront his creator, and you - ”

“ - do not even know what planet I am from,” Mantis said mournfully. “I do not know where my powers came from, either.”

“Then that can be our next mission,” Gamora suggested. “We have supplemental pay from the Nova Corps, enough to give us the time to learn more about ourselves. You deserve to know. We all deserve to know who we are.”

Mantis’s returning grin was almost blinding. “I would like that very much,” she said, beaming. “I think we are all very tired of fighting wars. Being here on Peter’s planet to just relax is so nice. There is so much...room!”

Gamora couldn’t help but chuckle at Mantis’s childlike wonder, the stars in her eyes. There was a time when she would have thought her too idealistic, too immature, but now, her joy was infectious, absolutely radiant in its triumph. She got to her feet, gesturing for Mantis to follow. “We should go ask the others what they think. I doubt any of them are desperate to jump into another battle any time soon, though you never know with Rocket and Drax especially.”

“Oh, I almost forgot - Peter wanted to talk to you before we go to dinner,” Mantis said mysteriously. “He is out on the deck.”

Mantis and Gamora walked out into the living room, smiling at the sight of Groot, Drax, and Nebula gathered around the television, playing some sort of video game where they appeared to be racing spaceships. Rocket was stood on the armrest of the couch, shouting instructions at Groot and profanities at the others; Nebula occasionally lifted one hand from her controller to flip him off without looking back. Gamora walked over to watch for a moment, reaching down to briefly squeeze her sister’s shoulder. Nebula instinctively shivered, then patted Gamora’s hand in return, once, twice, and pulled away.

Gamora found Peter leaning against the railing of the deck, much like he had on Knowhere when her other self had first found him. Instead of empty bottles, his Zune sat at his feet, playing a familiar song. He was notably more put-together than he had been in months, his facial hair neatly trimmed and his clothes not quite as unruly as before. “Peter?”

He turned immediately at the sound of her voice. “Hey, you sleep okay?”

“Really well, actually. The beds here are far nicer than the mattresses on the Benatar,” she replied, walking up to join him. “Mantis said you wanted to talk to me about something.”

“I could talk to you about a lot of things,” he chuckled. “Honestly, I still can’t believe it worked. That you’re here, for real this time. I...we almost lost you, Gamora.” He chewed his bottom lip worryingly. “Is, uh...is the other one still in your head?”

“Yes, but it’s not as invasive as it seems,” she reassured him. “Mantis and I were talking about our next potential mission. We were thinking about how she, Rocket, and Groot know so little about their origins, how they deserve to know.”

“Yeah, well, we met my dad and we all know how that turned out,” Peter muttered, his expression souring.

“I don’t think it’ll always be like your father. Maybe Mantis’s parents will be more like mine.” She smiled. “Only...alive.”

He laughed, startled by the somewhat dark joke, and leaned into her, their shoulders brushing together. “I mean, if it’s what you guys want, I’m not gonna fight it. Think it’s about time we acknowledge who the real leader of this team is - you.”

“It can be both of us,” she insisted, frowning. “Nebula and I spent years resenting each other because we were forced to compete. But you and I, we have a choice. Let’s not make the wrong one.”

Peter fully turned to face her, slipping his hands in hers and bringing them down between them. He lowered his head, their foreheads meeting in the middle, and closed his eyes. He almost looked agonized. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do it.”

“Do wh...oh, Peter.” She released one of his hands so she could cup his cheek. “You kept your promise. Everything that happened afterwards...I would’ve liked to have been the one to kill him. I’m sure Nebula feels the same way. But what matters, what really matters, is that we all made it in the end, and the rest of our lives belong to us. Not to a madman, not to a myth, but just...us. As it should be.”

With a tilt of her chin, her mouth met his, and he melted beneath her touch, all the tension in his shoulders slipping away. He deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist so he could pull her impossibly close. After a quiet moment passed, only punctuated by the sounds of the birds and the Zune, she stepped back to meet his soft gaze. “I love you,” he murmured.

Her words came easy. “I love you, too.” She took another step back as if to turn and make her way back inside, but he kept a firm grip on her hands. “Peter, we have to get ready for dinner.”

“Dance with me.” She shivered; the cadence of his voice was the same as every other time he’d ever asked. “C’mon, one minute and we’ll head back.”

“Fine,” she sighed, moving closer once more. With his hands at the small of her back, Peter guided them step-by-step across the deck, the heels of their boots clicking in synchronicity as they did. Gamora closed her eyes and splayed her palms across his chest, drank in the sunlight that washed over her face, took in the muffled sounds of her friends yelling at each other inside, embraced the feeling of Peter’s heart beating beneath her fingers. She wasn’t thinking about the next mission or payment, the next argument or victory. It was just her, the ones she loved, and a perfect little piece of clarity.

Bring it to me, bring your sweet loving...bring  it on home to me... ______

a/n: And so ends another fic conclusion in which I've doubled the usual word count and gone full-on sentimental! I honestly could have gone on forever and ever with the reunions and conversations, but then I think it would get a little too repetitive. There was a scene I cut in which Peter and Rocket talked about how Rocket dealt with all the Guardians being gone and Peter's guilt about Titan, but I wanted this chapter to be focused on Gamora. If I were to continue on from here, the Guardians would be on their way to look for Rocket's creator, but not before making a stop in Missouri to visit Peter's mother's grave.

In case anyone happens to read my fic regularly, I'm taking a tiny break from Peter/Gamora (including across the universe) to finish up some Scott/Hope fics I've had sitting around for quite some time (a post-Endgame fic and a multi-part AU, in case anyone's interested). I'll come back to them eventually, I promise! I may also open fic prompts again since it's been a while.

Thanks so much for reading, likes and reblogs would be much appreciated, and I hope you enjoyed my self-indulgent journey through my Endgame feelings :)

#starmora #starmora fic #peter x gamora #gamora x peter #endgame spoilers #spoilers #myfic #myfic: bring it home #marvel #long post #this might be my last p/g fic for a minute btw! #i have a bunch of s/h WIPs i wanna finish

[alanakusumas]

the night before beitan (alana x damien) (fluff)

Pairing: Alana x Damien

Fandom: Perfect Match

Rating: PG

Summary: The night before the infamous mission in Beitan, Alana and Damien share some soft moments with one another, unknowing of the hell-ish chain of events that’s about to break loose.

Author’s note: hey fools! i haven’t posted fic in a while this is just a quick drabble that i drafted up today as i hope y’all know by now that i’m a damien and alana stan first and boo boo the fool second anyway enjoy // also i listened to this song while writing and i just think it’s so fitting

The foggy night sky has draped over Beitan for several hours now, yet Damien finds himself still pacing back and forth in their hideout with a coffee in hand. At this point, the coffee serves as nothing but a placebo to keep him motivated to stay up and review their maps laid out on the coffee table for tomorrow. Despite his team succeeding with flying colors for the past few months, Damien knows there’s always risk involved in every shootout, so it’s always better to extra cautious for any situation that hits.

The Interpol agent bounces back and forth from deep focus, to reverting back to present time, to deep focus, to present time, to deep focus - until he hears the familiar sultry voice of a young woman that pulls him back to reality.

“You know that no matter how prepared we are, we still can’t prevent every possible thing that happens, right?”

Damien glances up to see his partner leaning against the door frame of their bedroom, wavy hair slightly tousled from laying in bed, eyes drooping slightly from just waking up. She’s wearing her favourite pair of satin pj pants, and a loose cami that rests casually on top of her chest. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I was,“ Alana says, “but it doesn’t really help when you’re a light sleeper with a risky job - and you wake up to rustling outside your room.”

Sheepishly, Damien shrugs, although a shadow of concern still remains on his visage. “Sorry, I’m just double-triple-checking that we have everything set in stone for tomorrow.”

“I’m sure we’re fine.” Alana begins to pace towards him, hands stretched outward to wrap them around his arm as she stands beside him. “Is there anything I can do to put your mind at ease?”

“Well, for starters,” Damien leans against her frame, “Inventory. A) are all our weapons loaded and b) is there enough gear for everyone?”

“A) Yup, and b) we watched Miguel count everything in front of us.”

“And we’ve confirmed with Drew that our target is still meeting his suppliers at 4:45am today.”

He feels her nod against his arm, a faint murmur of agreement escaping her lips. Damien can tell that Alana eagerly wants to get this list done with, just so they can head to bed in each others arms. “So far, his contact hasn’t updated us with any time or location changes.”

“Right. And are we sure we’ve evacuated the vicinity of our stakeout?”

His partner sighs peacefully. “Yes, we did. Just the immediate area though; we can’t clear out the entire neighbourhood, otherwise that’d look too suspicious from afar.”

With a heavy sigh, he gulps down the rest of his coffee. He’s still kinda worried, but unlike how the pair was two years ago, his worries are now Alana worries as well. And he can’t risk two sleepless Interpol agents for their upcoming mission. “If you say so.”

“I know so,” Alana whispers faintly into his ear, before pressing a soft kiss against his cheek...down his jawline...and finally turning him so she can hold his head in her hands and capture his lips gently with hers. Damien pulls her close, using his free hand to grip the small of her back as he relishes in this sweet exchange for a second longer.

With her eyes still shut, Alana takes his hand off her back and begins to tug him towards their bedroom. When she opens them, Damien sees nothing but adoration emanating from her chocolate brown eyes.

He sets the coffee mug on top of the maps. He’ll wash it in the morning after their mission succeeds.

Alana crawls underneath the sheets first, the table lamp giowing against her skin as she watches her partner slip out of his grey Henley and slacks.

“Damn,” She teasingly swoons, “I miss seeing those abs,”

Damien rolls his eyes in his girlfriend’s famous fashion. “Same here.”

“You mean you miss seeing my abs too or you miss your own?”

“Both.”

Alana lets out a light chuckle and pats the empty space beside her in their bed. “Get in here.”

As soon as he slips into the sheets with her, she switches the lamp off and absentmindedly rests her hand against his chest, while his sits on top of her waist. The distance between their bodies keeps it cool for them underneath the comforter, but close enough so they can sense the other’s presence in bed.

Alana already has her eyes shut, ready to drift off into slumber for the next few hours. Damien, on the other hand, stays awake for a few more moments to admire the woman he’s lucky enough to be with.

“You’re so incredibly beautiful.”

“Mm...Incredible - and beautiful.” A hearty chuckle escapes Damien as he leans in to leave a light peck on her forehead. Leave it to Alana to be half-asleep and still come up with witty comebacks.

“And I appreciate you sooo much.”

A peck to the nose. “Mmhm.”

“And I’m the luckiest man on Earth right now.”

A peck on the lips. “Mm.”

“And I just want you to know that I...I love you.”

“...”

Damien glances up. Alana is already sound asleep. He didn’t realize how exhausted she must have been, just like he was.

Maybe it was for the best that she didn’t catch his last words. After all, she’s in every single way more incredible than he is - incredibly dynamic...and talented...intelligent...sexy...

He leaves one last kiss on her cheek before drifting off into a restless slumber himself. She is just incredible.

She’s an incredibly light sleeper too, for when she’s certain that her boyfriend is fast asleep, she flutters her eyes open once more, listening to the heavy inhales and exhales he takes when he’s deep in dreamland.

“I love you too.” She says back.

#playchoices #perfect match #damien nazario #alana kusuma #damienxalana #pm #fanfic #my writing