i'm an assassin, not a dancer.

(✉ → Sister): Are you still here?

[…] [📱to Gamora Ben /Awesome/  🤩] you don’t like footloose? [📱to Gamora Ben /Awesome/  🤩] is it because it’s a musical, or is it because you believe it’s a /bad/ musical? because answering yes to one of those questions may be a problem [📱to Gamora Ben /Awesome/  🤩] maybe bad father story arcs are #relatable [📱to Gamora Ben /Awesome/  🤩] did you watch episodes 4-6 first? there’s some unspoken human law that states you must ignore the star wars prequels. [📱to Gamora Ben /Awesome/  🤩] honestly, they know nothing about real aliens, beyond vague ideas and a little too much fear for some. they sensationalize where they can, and let their imaginations run wild. it’s kind of fun, isn’t it? if only space travel was as exciting as they make it out to be in the millenium falcon

The briefest sensation of humanity was enough to send Raven reeling, her powers moving at the speed of sound. Being on Azarath had meant her abilities weren’t as focused, it was harder to use them there, but humans? With humans, each sound and emotion was multiplied to a thousand. Taking a few deep breaths, Raven managed to clear her mind, the distractions muting themselves to a dull roar. She couldn’t quite place every emotion on each person, so much as their auras and mindset - this man felt guilty, this woman was in a rush to get to work. If she could read their thoughts things might be different, she might be able to help them, but with her abilities? It was still a guessing game why anyone was feeling that way. 

Racks of clothing were an adequate distraction, so Raven began pulling them out, trying to find just a plain shirt. Why was this so impossible? Did people no longer wear clothing without some sort of funny catchphrase? Forgetting herself for a moment, she asked under her breath, “What does ‘Potatoes 4 Lyfe’ mean? Are they talking about the food, or is there some person named Potato I don’t know about?”

There wasn’t a lot that Gamora could do on this planet. She didn’t have the same contacts here as she did in the rest of the galaxy -- and it felt like she was sitting on her hands. Waiting for Thanos to finally make his move... it felt like the world was playing out in slow motion. She asked what normal human activities were and outside of drinking (which she had done), working (which she would love to do but she didn’t know where to look with her particular set of skills), and watching tv (which was fun for maybe an hour)... there was shopping. 

❛ Do you need some help? I can help you out, y’know? ❜

Gamora immediately stiffened at the offer. Being offered help was still something new for Gamora -- and accepting it? She wasn’t entirely sure how to. The Guardians understood her prickly manners, but this woman who was offering her help now? She had no idea how to. Scotting on the park bench in Central Park, Gamora made room for the other woman and gave her a thoughtful glance. “Why would you do that... for a stranger?” Human kindness wasn’t something Gamora experienced often. 

“Yeah,” Jessica said, and she almost laughed. “Yeah – stopping him, it…. It helps.” It was an undeniable fact. For all the nightmares she had of the docks, for all the times his voice whispered through her ears, or his face showed up in her reflection, whispering murderer – for all of that, stopping him still helped. At least for a time, she had been certain he was dead. She had been positive there was no one out there suffering at his hands. Because of her. It didn’t erase the guilt, didn’t make the shame go away. It just made her feel strong enough to carry it. 

She watched Gamora’s mouth fall open, as the feeling rocked her, and Jessica knew what that was like. To feel the world shift into place beneath your feet, because finally you spoke and someone heard you. Someone understood, without having to explain. Someone gave you the words and the sentiment you didn’t even realize you’d been searching for.  It knocked the wind out of you, that feeling. Left you lightheaded because suddenly, there was enough air to breathe and you had been so used to suffocating without anyone noticing. 

She gave Gamora a minute. 

It didn’t surprise her, the offer. Feeling this way, it made you stupidly grateful, left you desperate to return the favor. She had felt it with Tony, right before she laid him out on his worktable. She felt it with Daisy before pulling her into that hotel room, and every night since then. It was staggering. “Now you’ve made me look like an asshole if I don’t agree to the same,” she quipped. She filled their glasses once more with the last of the whiskey. “Here’s to slaying monsters together, I guess.” 

@legendaryquills

[📱to Gamora Ben /Awesome/  🤩] excuse you? [📱to Gamora Ben /Awesome/  🤩] darth vader is only the best movie villain of all time [📱to Gamora Ben /Awesome/  🤩] and i mean, yeah, the space travel is wildly misrepresented, but you have to appreciate old school human interpretation of alien hijinks

The multiverse was falling apart. It was something that people seemed to think was a pretty big deal, considering the fact that it was all any of them seemed to want to talk about now. To Peter, it didn’t seem that important. Something was always falling apart, after all, and while he’d sort of signed on to be a Guardian of the Galaxy, he definitely hadn’t agreed to be a defender of the multiverse. (There wasn’t even any alliteration! It was lame!) So, the multiverse was falling apart and Peter Quill… was taking a nap.

It wasn’t rare for his naps to be rudely cut short by things happening around the ship, but usually the thing waking him up wasn’t the ship starting up. Peter woke with a start as the engines kicked on, groaning and throwing a pillow over his head. “If Rocket is making a grab for my spaceship,” he muttered to his empty quarters, “I’m gonna make one of those Davy Crockett hats out of him.” Sighing, he got to his feet and trudged into the cockpit, surprised to see that it wasn’t Rocket in the pilot’s seat. “Gamora? If this is a sexy getaway, you should have told me. I’m in my underwear. I should really be naked.” 

The ship was quickly whirring to life, it wasn’t the type of ship she was used to piloting, but it didn’t take her long to get acclimated to the cockpit. Her finger slipped and she hit a button that let out a strange crackling sound -- and music started playing. Cursing under her breath, she flipped the switch and took a breath, only to hear a man’s voice behind her. Not only that, he said her name. Gamora turned around and grabbed the blade on her hip -- the one that Thanos had given her, and immediately pointed it at the man’s neck. Knowing her name wasn’t the strange part, it was the fact he had used it instead of murderess or Daughter of Thanos -- he said it like it meant something to him. And that crept under her skin.

Gamora leaned over to the active display and activated the autopilot and the larger display showed their plotted course. Xandar’s name also appearing on the display. “You said my name like you know me...” Gamora started, her voice low and her eyes locked onto his face. She should have told him to get dressed -- but this way, he had no surprises -- no weapons that he could draw. “Who the hell are you?” 

She didn’t answer right away, and Jessica filled the silence with nothing but the sound of gulping whiskey and the dull thud as she set the glass down. Her fingers stayed wrapped around the glass, certain she would pick it up again before long. It was the best way to quiet the memories creeping towards the front of her mind. You want to do it, you know you do. “I’ve walked that line,” she murmured. “I’ve asked myself that question a lot, all the time, and it – you might never really know the answer.” Had it been time that burned out Kilgrave’s effect on her? Or was it what she’d done to Reva, was it being forced to do something so against her own nature? Was it just dumb goddamn luck? She would never know for certain. It was a truth she could never uncover, no matter how hard she searched. Maybe it was a truth she didn’t want to know. 

“You’re a person,” Jessica said simply. “Maybe not a human, strictly speaking, but goddamn close enough as far as I’m concerned.” She lifted her glass again and nodded. “His favorite color. Wore it all the goddamn time,” she said, making a face before taking a sip. She set the glass down slowly. “First time he came back, I killed him,” she said simply. “Second time I wanted to kill myself. But he disappeared before I could figure out what to do, so maybe I’ll never know that either.” 

Gamora never thought she’d ever talk about what had happened. Nebula had lived it with her -- though Nebula’s experience with Thanos was far different than her own. They had both been tortured and abused, but Gamora... she had always been Thanos’s favorite, and Gamora wasn’t sure if that started when he first picked her out of the crowd or if he saw her strength -- or if he just looked at Nebula and decided all she was, was spare parts. But he never let Nebula forget how little she meant to him (killing her was a waste of parts). Nebula would understand the wrath of their father, but she and this woman had found common ground in their horrors. And Gamora had never expected to have a moment like this. Sitting with a stranger with an air of understanding between them. “Not sure if answers will even help,” Gamora admitted before downing the rest of her drink. Pulling the cup away from her lips, Gamora looked at the liquid for a long moment -- she wasn’t even feeling a buzz. “Stopping him would help.” If that were a real option.

How could she explain how she didn’t have words for the things that she was feeling? She didn’t know what she was feeling was fear until Mantis’s hand as wrapped around her wrist and she was told that she was afraid. Just like Gamora didn’t understand that feeling in the pit of her stomach was guilt -- survivors guilt -- until Jessica put words to that too.

“Captain Carol Danvers? Doubtful, I’m…the Danvers were my foster family.” She gave a small shrug, gaze falling to the bar top. Neither Eliza nor Jeremiah had ever tried to replace her parents, but they had been wonderful in their own right. They were strong, even when she had been thrust upon them, a thirteen-year-old lost and coming to terms with losing everything. She was proud to have the last name Danvers. “She seems great, though. Must be the last name.”

Gamora said her own name in the same way Lena sometimes would: like it was a poison. It suggested a certain distance. There was a silence, a hesitation, as though Kara was supposed to hear it and react. And someone else might have. She absorbed it, understood why the bar was a mess, and let it roll away again. As she’d told Lena, people should be judged on their own merits. Gamora had been kind, if tense; she smiled, even if barely. Kara smiled and plowed past the name like it was any other name, “It’s nice to meet you, Gamora.”

She looked to the menu, and pursed her lips. The goal wasn’t to get wasted, that wasn’t an answer. If they were going for comfortable and safe, she wanted some measure of control. Her lips ticked up as she ran across something familiar. “Have you ever had Zakkarian Ale?”

They both seemed to be women of extraordinary power, so if Kara had said she was Carol’s sister, Gamora would have believed it. “She’s a friend of mine,” Gamora offered. She would have called her a great friend, but Gamora had never been comfortable expression that level of trust in anyone. But Carol had made it among the few people that Gamora could trust (even with the way she would jump out of the ship and do tricks while encouraging Tony and Peter to do the same). She had a good heart, and Gamora had found, that at the end of the day, that was all that mattered. “Maybe it is the name,” Gamora conceded. 

Kara didn’t look at Gamora like she was a monster, in fact, she didn’t seem to be put off at all by her name… and in a place like this? Gamora couldn’t describe how thankful she was for that. Most people, they screamed about it like Rocket did, or the other prisoners when she was marched down wearing the same uniform they all wore – her uniform there had marked all the crimes she had committed, and even if they didn’t know her by name, they quickly understood how dangerous she was. How much she could take from them. It didn’t matter what was taken from her or why she had done it, there was blood on her hands, more of it than most people could imagine. So, hearing that it was nice to meet her? That was new and slightly uncomfortable, but Gamora managed a smile. Polite, if nothing else. “It’s nice to meet you too, Kara.”

She was rolling her eyes, she was glaring, she was insulting him… and Peter still couldn’t help but grin. Maybe it spoke of his upbringing, served as a stark reminder of just how fucked up someone became when they were raised by pirates threatening to eat them every time they got a little more annoying than usual, but he always felt a little warm inside when she was like this. He felt just as happy when she was calling him an idiot as he did when she was looking at him with soft eyes and a gentle smile because with Gamora? Any kind of attention that didn’t involve a sword through the chest felt like some form of affection. And Peter was so lucky to earn that affection from her. “Really, Gamora!” He shot back, not one to miss out on having the last word even if he was having a sentimental moment.

She denied it at first… but then she was faltering just a little. Going from no I didn’t to what if I did, and if Peter hadn’t known he was right already, this would have proven it. But then she went on… and Peter didn’t have an answer to that. His grin faltered a little. “I’ll… Tell the others?” It wasn’t exactly a terrifying threat, largely because no one else on the team would really care, but it wasn’t like Peter had much else to hold over her.

“Stop it,” Gamora hissed. “You’re only saying that because you want to have the last word and you need to buy yourself some time to think of something clever to say.” Taking a step back from Peter, she took in a sharp breath and tried to quell what she was feeling. But despite her best efforts, it was clear that Peter hadn’t learned a damn thing. Dealing with Peter most days was like dealing with a child -- who drank. Whenever they did finish a contract, whenever they did win, most of their winnings were immediately spent on booze and otherwise impressing the locals with how great they were. Peter had no understanding of what the team actually needed.

“You’ll---” Gamora closed the distance between them and then grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. She wasn’t sure if any of the others would believe him, but they’d talk about it for months after and it’d be hell. “You won’t be able to tell them anything if I cut out your tongue, Peter.”

None of the Guardians had ever been heroes. From the beginning, they’d all been in it for their own motivations, after their own interests. Peter had told Rocket as much when he’d questioned why Peter would ever want to save a galaxy that had given him nothing but heartache over the years — Peter cared about the galaxy, primarily, because he lived in it. He cared what happened to the universe because he was one of the people who called it home. If Ronan had been threatening some other corner of the multiverse, if he’d jumped ship and gone to another dimension to terrorize it, Peter knew he wouldn’t have followed. He wasn’t a hero. It wasn’t who he was. 

And there was nothing wrong with that, was there? Not wanting to die for a world that had given you nothing didn’t make you selfish. Not as long as there were still things you would die for. Peter hadn’t really had that before. When he was with the Ravagers, he’d looked out for himself and no one else. But he wasn’t like that anymore. He’d die for Gamora. He almost had, once or twice now. He’d die for Groot too, of course, and for Rocket and Drax and Mantis, but it was different with Gamora. It was a different feeling. And this moment proved why. 

She pulled him in closer and god, it felt good. It felt like coming home in a way that setting foot on Earth after years of being away hadn’t. This planet didn’t mean much to him anymore, but this moment? What he had right now? This meant everything. He huffed a quiet laugh into her mouth at the sound of retreating footsteps, glancing behind him to find the door freshly shut and a bit of tree sap shining from the handle. “Maybe he doesn’t know what it is! I mean, Tony thinks we need to give him the safe sex talk and I’m pretty sure none of us know how to do that.”

Gamora didn’t want to pull away from Peter, in fact, she barely pulled away from him at all despite the fact that Groot had absolutely spotted them. It was a decently sized ship but there were a lot of bodies -- and it wasn’t like Peter and Gamora had tried to keep this moment private. It just spilled out all at once. They had spent so much time dancing around three words and acting like unspoken was enough -- that it mattered what was between them -- but it was supposed to be casual. And neither of them had ever said they wanted more than that. Another unspoken thing between them. What they wanted was just as much a secret to each other as what they were supposed to be to each other. 

But now all of that was out in the open. Those words were said -- and Groot had found them out in the same moment. Everyone knew all at once. Gamora leaned in and pressed a kiss to Peter’s bottom lip and considered staying in this spot for a while longer. But their luck, Groot was collecting their friends to come watch -- or Drax would come out of nowhere and show his face or Mantis would drop in. Either way, this moment was over, no matter how much Gamora was trying to hold onto it.

“The sex talk -- does his kind even---” Gamora immediately brought her hand up to Peter’s mouth and she silenced him before he could speak, realizing that Peter would probably have an answer for that question. “Don’t you dare,” she warned. If anyone knew how to have sex with a tree... it would be Peter. And Gamora didn’t want to spoil the moment with those thoughts. Giving him a look of warning, Gamora finally pulled her hand away from Peter’s mouth, and after a beat, she shugged. “What do we do now?” 

@legendaryquills​