blind leading the blind.

Scott Summers. 30. X-Man. "Risking death. People staring at you down microscopes only to find ways to rip you off, wipe you out or control you. Pain, and dealing with it... That's what it's like being an X-Man."

[cyclxpswasright-blog]

 mccoysbeast:

“Huh, all right, I’ll give you that, you’re growing as a human being.” Hank chuckles and bites a chunk out of the apple he’s holding, pondering the taste. His new and more feline form has yet to mess with his appetite directly, but some things–usually things like fruit that wouldn’t normally be in a predatory animal’s diet–just taste differently. Being sprawled out on Scott’s bed like this reminds him viscerally of being a teenager again, of trying to come down after battles and being able to forget the fact that he was nearly six foot seven at sixteen years old even for a couple of hours. It makes this tension that’s made a nest inside of his chest start to unwind a fraction, and he really and truly grins. “Though biologically speaking I don’t need as many hours of sleep, so I say I get thrown out of that conversation, for once in my life.” 

He knows that Jean no longer living in the mansion has been hard on Scott–it’s been hard on all of them, like learning to live without a limb that you’ve relied on your whole life. But Hank doesn’t need to be a scientist to see how good it’s been for her already, so they’re going to have to learn to keep the school running without her–and he has faith in their abilities. He laughs, a real and deep sound, shakes his head. “If she’s taking care of you, and taking care of me, it’s a real miracle she has any time to see patients. I kind of feel like she should be charging us a fee for services rendered.” 

He cranes his neck and tries to see what Scott had fallen asleep on top of–he tends to get lost in his scientific work, leaving a lot of the administrative duties of the school to Scott and Ororo, and he really could handle more of them–he can’t help but wonder why they don’t insist on it more, even though he knows. He knows they’re counting on him to find a way out, even if they don’t really say it. “What’re you working on? Anything I can help with?” 

“Always nice to hear,” he said a little too softly for there to be any sarcastic bite. Scott could get snippy, especially considering his usual lack of sleep, but Hank is probably the most level-headed member of his team and he doesn’t try to get on Scott’s nerves like some of the others. He doesn’t spend a lot of time dwelling on his mutation, whether it’s a gift or a curse, because it simply is. It’s a part of him. But, if he could trade his abilities for something else, superhuman ability to thrive on an hour of sleep would be nice. “But even you must admit, sleep improves your general health, no matter whether you necessarily need a lot of it or not.”

His relationship with Jean isn’t something he has to explain to anyone in the mansion, though he suspects this is more because they don’t want to discuss it any more than he does. There’s also certain questions that don’t need to be asked, the answers are obvious enough. “She offered,” he says, mildly defensive. “I’m perfectly happy living off of frozen pizza and box salads.” Actually, the way he lived would shock the general public. Not all heroes kept to strict diet and worked out regularly. The Danger Room was all the extra exercise he needed. “But you know Jean. She sees an adult man incapable of taking care of himself and she has to step in.”

Scott glances down, not immediately remembering what he had been working on. Thankfully, his work hadn’t permeated his dreams, at least not that he can remember. He’s also glad he didn’t appear to drool on anything. “Nothing you need to waste your time with. It’s mostly busy work, getting student affairs in order and looking for anyone who needs extra help with certain lessons.”

[cyclxpswasright-blog]

 wreakhcvok:

@cyclxpswasright·

The thing is, Scott has a life that doesn’t involve Alex.

He has an entire school and an entire team of high powered mutants to lead, he has friends that he’s known since he was a teenager, he has people that he’s loved and had his heart broken by–Alex has none of those things, and he can’t exactly offer them to Scott. So he doesn’t really know where he fits into his older brother’s life, or if he even does at all–he’s been a part of the team through an alien invasion, for the better part of a year, and he still doesn’t feel like he knows the man who shares his blood any better than he did when they were two scared kids, huddled together in Mr. Sinister’s orphanage.

He knows, he knows that they’re both trying their best, that it’s a complicated tightrope to walk, but he wants to be a part of all of it, he wants a chance to have a brother again. It’s just–he knows that Scott uses his work as an excuse, because he’s scared, because he feels guilty he never found Alex after the adoption went through–Alex is sure he’d feel even worse if he knew the whole truth about that–and Alex is sure he’d feel terrible if he knew what it was like to have stayed in the orphanage. He doesn’t want to waste time seeing Scott in passing anymore, so if his brother won’t make the first move–he will.

He hip checks the door to Scott’s office open, plates of breakfast food and two mugs of coffee balanced in his hands. Scott is bent over something, something else pulled up on his computer screen, and he looks up at Alex with that half second look of you’re actually in front of me right now followed with one that screams what the hell? “It’s breakfast dumbass, don’t look at me like that.” he laughs and pushes a plate of waffles towards him, settles in the chair on the other side of the desk. “And Hank and Ororo graciously offered to cover for you for the next two hours, so that you could eat it with me.”

Scott isn’t one for bragging. Dwelling on his flaws is much easier, it comes naturally. He has come a long way since Alex was adopted, leaving Scott alone in an orphanage where he could feel all the other kids questioning him, what he was. Despite the mind games Sinister had played with him, somehow he still emerged a leader. The tragedy of his childhood prepared him for a life where he would constantly be faced with loss and tough decisions. When it came to relationships, he was a whole lot luckier than he would have been anywhere else. The X-Men were his family, and part of being family meant being stuck together no matter what. Now that his only blood family is a part of his team, it’s clear that maybe he hasn’t completely mastered the brother thing. 

Much of the time they had spent apart was a mystery, with neither of them offering up much in the way of explanation. Scott’s experiences had been uniformly terrible before Xavier asked him for help form the X-Men. It was of course the best thing that could have happened to him, but it required other sacrifices. He became a student of Xavier’s and never had the chance to attend a normal college, though he knew he could have always gone on to pursue his education if he had really wanted. Alex, he just assumed, was given the opportunity to grow up with a nice family, he’d done conventional things like go to college. It was better that Alex had gotten the better end of the deal.

He’s raking a hand through his hair, unsure whether his eyes are half shut from focus or lack of sleep. It’s a toss up most of the time. Scott isn’t expecting anyone to interrupt him, let alone Alex. So far, he hasn’t been much of the barging type. That’s more Emma or Bobby’s territory. All he can really respond with is a few blinks. “A two hour breakfast?” He says stupidly, before the realization that maybe he owes it to his brother to spend more than five minutes with him. “Um, I mean, thanks. I don’t eat breakfast, usually.” And when he did it was in the form of Pop-Tarts or protein shakes.

[cyclxpswasright-blog]

 lifeincarncte:

@cyclxpswasright

It started out as a relatively simple venture outside of the mansion, made possible by the fact that more and more of the teachers within the Institute were making the executive decision to list with Doom, and therefore the response that the X-Men received from the general public was becoming more favourable. The students today had asked to go to the New York aquarium, and although the trip had ended abruptly with Banshee smashing several of the tanks and putting a few octopi in the infirmary, Jean had to admit that it was one of the best days in recent memory.

Eager to keep it going, Jean had suggested bringing the kids to Central Park, which was really pushing it. Within moments Claire - a blossoming pyrokinetic, though she didn’t quite have the skill to have a code name yet - had managed to irritate one of the demons standing guard, and before long, they had a small group around them.

“I bet that we have ten minutes before we have to intervene,” Jean commented with a small smile, looking over at Scott. “I know I pushed it, but we were all having such a good time. Besides, it’s one hell of a learning experience! Hands on always works better than books, Scott.” At least, that was what she would be arguing with the Professor later. “What do you think of the sudden abundance of resources? Maybe it’s our bad experiences talking, but I’m finding it hard to believe they appeared just as the city started questioning how we were going to survive.”

Leaving the mansion was already risky, but he knew that every student who had agreed to study under the X-Men expected a little risk now and then. He couldn’t shelter them and most mutants knew just how bleak the world could be immediately after experiencing their first mutation. Some parents were supportive (he liked to think his own parents would have loved him as they always had) but that was a best case scenario. Being a mutant in the world was brave, maybe even braver than being an X-Man and disguising yourself with a costume. 

The demons were another matter, a very real and immediate threat. Scott had a hard time believing that these things stood a chance against anyone on his team and he had almost the same confidence in the kids. But still, it was always scary, throwing his students to the wolves. Of course, he and Jean would be there to help. Scott wasn’t the kind of teacher or leader who could push people to their limits just to come swooping in at the last second, at least not outside of the Danger Room. Jean was oddly chipper about the opportunity presented, which made him a little less wary.

“That’s one way to put it,” he said with a faint smile, but his nerves kept the expression at bay. “Books don’t get enough credit. You learn more about how to replace a bike’s engine by reading a manual, not by ripping it out and trying to figure it out from there.” The kids seemed to be having fun with this fight, though. He didn’t want them to think he didn’t have any faith in them by jumping in right away. “Someone is keeping us here by choice, but they’re not trying to kill everyone. Not yet, anyways. Who comes out looking like a hero every day that we continue to live?” Doom, even if he was the one patting himself on the back.

[cyclxpswasright-blog]

 diamondfrcst:

Emma had learned a long, long time ago that the only person she could ultimately rely on was herself. Ian had been someone that she trusted, a man that she had loved from she was fifteen years old, and yet when he found out what she was, what she was willing to do for him, he had turned around and called her a freak, all but declared that she was a monster. Troy had been there, had been the first person that Emma had found after she left her family home, and yet he had failed her as well. Shaw had used her for nothing other than what she could provide him with, he had never once believed that she had the strength to take over his role in the Hellfire Club until she was standing over him literally holding the crown in her hands with a knife to his throat. Everyone had underestimated her until they hadn’t, and now, people feared her. They distrusted her. They looked at her as cold, as manipulative, as ruthless, and that was what she had always wanted to be seen as. Scott had never seen her as any of that, and she didn’t understand why. She didn’t understand how he could still look at her like that, whether it was because he was idealistic, or because he wanted to see the best in her, or because there was still a feeling there that hadn’t managed to disappear (she knew that much, could read his mind like a book, always could).

Either way, she was grateful for it more than she could put into words, more than she ever had. “Hank brought me back a full fat macchiato latte with cow’s milk instead of my soya blend. That was traumatic to me, Scott. Also, I had to battle swamp monsters with Logan. Logan.” The last one was a slightly ironic statement considering the fact that her and Logan’s history was … relatively complicated at the best of times, but she was still unsure how much Scott knew of that. “Well, then, you could treat me as a guest instead, who just so happens to want to treat you back in return. Do you know how many people I have ever offered to bring coffee to, Scott?” When she first left the mansion she had worked three waitressing jobs but that, along with most of her history, had been erased when she had the chance to do so. “They work impeccably, darling, as does your taste.” Jean was an anomaly, but one Emma could ultimately forgive. Probably. Walking through the grounds of the school was something that Emma would never admit to enjoying, but it helped her to appreciate what they had built here, what they continued to build. “I am willing to bring you coffee but you won’t carry me back to the school in a time of crisis. The audacity.” Emma smiled at him for a moment, then immediately made for the door, knowing that he would follow. “Shall we go through the courtyard, or do the full circle?” He had to have some choice in the matter, after all. Plus, she had always somewhat enjoyed seeing how his mind worked.

Even with his decade (and then some) of experience, Scott felt in no way qualified to offer any sage wisdom about the meaning of leadership. He had his own opinions, but there was no one way to be a leader, just as there was no one way to be a hero. In Scott’s eyes, Emma was a hero, having saved lives just like the rest of the X-Men, but he knew many didn’t view her in the same positive light. When it came to his role on the team, he had a tendency to put walls up, even between him and the people he trusted most in the world. He knew this was why Alex was having difficulty reconnecting with him. Scott was trying more than his brother could have guessed, and that was a problem. By nature, he was independent, prone to taking on too much and lying when the pressure threatened to crush him. In the back of his mind, he knew that being in his position meant never thinking of only himself. It entailed relying on others and asking for help. Any of his teammates would be receptive to his requests, even Logan (depending on the severity, perhaps), but he felt most comfortable leaning on Ororo and Jean. And Emma. No matter her past or even future actions, she had never let him down, not when it counted.

“I’ll have a word with him,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. Scott couldn’t even muster some clearly pretend sympathy over that. Hank was one of the few people who would go out of his way to bring Emma something. Scott was maybe the only one in the mansion who wouldn’t make any mistakes with her order. “You’re right, that must have been difficult. But better you than me.” He actually managed to crack a grin after this comment. “I’d never treat you like a guest. This is your home, too.” Maybe this was a little heavy handed, but the way she was often treated within these walls, he felt it pertinent to remind her sometimes. “For as long as you want.” And he knew that there was always a possibility she might some day leave. Just like Jean. “I’m going to guess not many. And that, naturally, I should be flattered?” Unfortunately, he actually was. “I have to imagine we have vastly different definitions of the term work in this context.” Shoes didn’t work ever, really. They were functional but any pair of shoes served the simple purpose of protecting one’s feet. Comfort and style were separate matters. “I never said anything about a crisis. If a demon leaps out from behind a bush and you twist your ankle, that’s a different story.” Scott was pretty sure Emma would have to be unconscious for her to willingly allow him to carry her away from danger. “Courtyard,” he said almost immediately, trying not to give it too much thought. That was never his strength.

[cyclxpswasright-blog]

 lifeincarncte:

When the team had started, the Professor had laid out a set of morals and principles that he expected his students to take on board, to shape their lives around. Jean had never had a problem following Xavier’s lead, had always relied entirely on him and his teachings, had believed in his mission wholeheartedly and even more than that on days that it got particularly difficult. They had believed, back then, that a lot of what the Professor was talking about was nothing but worst case scenario, something that they might come up against but chances were they never would. Now, though, they realised how much foresight their teacher truly had, and it only emphasised Jean’s level of respect towards him and truly for her teammates as well. They had kept her grounded when the world threatened to swallow her whole (or the other way around, as it turned out), and Scott was a massive part of that. He might not have been able to bring her back entirely, only Jean could do that if it was possible at all, but he had been there to pick up the pieces, more than what others had done. They were complicated, but at least Jean knew at the end of the day he would be there. “You’re right,” Jean said, and then after a breath, “I saw a world where all mistakes were erased, where everyone was safe, where we never suffered. The Phoenix told me it could change reality to make it that way, but it didn’t feel like life. It felt like … a cardboard cutout.” The people she had loved were no longer whole people, they were pieces of paper moulded by a cosmic entity, and that wasn’t what Jean wanted. “Fair point,” Jean conceded, with something like a self deprecating laugh following.

Scott made it easier to put the world into perspective. It was something he had always ensured, part of the reason why the X-Men looked up to him, why they respected him as much as they did. “I would only be careful if I feared you taking me up on it,” Jean replied, matching the smile on his face. There were moments of quiet in the middle of everything, and once Jean had spent them worrying about the next fight. It had been Logan who taught her to appreciate them, and that was just what she was doing now. “I can dim them down. Or dampen your taste receptors.” That sounded weird. “We only need to divulge what people have seen us do anyway, right?” Jean asked. “People can guess at all of our powers by the news coverage.” Even if they didn’t get half the celebrity the Avengers did, that much was true. “It’s only a matter of time before someone encourages the kids to poke them with a stick,” Jean muttered. Someone, of course, meaning Emma, but she hated stooping to the woman’s level. “The Professor would be able to give us warning, anyway. The demons affect telepathy, so he will hear it from miles off.”

Like any mutant, Scott had gone through a phase of wishing he was normal. His mutation had briefly appeared at such a young age, either because he’d hit his head or because he’d already had a brush with death, that he knew he was different for almost his entire life. He wasn’t sure what had been worse: the damage he’d done when he had no way of controlling his powers or the way they had ostracized him from the rest of the orphans. Charles finding him had been a turning point and it wasn’t long after that he learned to accept, even appreciate, who and what he was. In an alternate universe where his parents had never died and he’d never been manipulated or watched a loved one die, what kind of person would he be? Funnier, he guessed, maybe more outwardly kind and caring. He didn’t want to say that anyone who hadn’t lived a hard life was boring or foolish, but he had a feeling that a Scott Summers who got to grow up with his parents and brother and go to college like he’d always wanted would be empty in other ways. “This life can be heavy sometimes, too heavy, but I have to believe we were all brought here for a reason. If there was a better option out there...” He wondered if Charles left those mutants alone, the ones with accepting parents and controllable powers. “Well, that sounds like a nightmare. You know, the ones that start out nice then suddenly there’s slime oozing from the walls?”

“I’ll try to stay as long as I can before you get sick of me. I think we can avoid some kind of X-emergency for one day.” Bravery came in many forms and he didn’t possess the kind that would make visiting Jean’s place regularly and for long periods of time easy, or even doable. Since she was inviting him, there was nothing he could do besides accept the offer, one he was grateful for. But overall, it was easier when she dropped in on the school, as if she could be there for any number of reasons that had nothing to do with him. “I shouldn’t be surprised by that suggestion, and yet...the idea of you rummaging around in my mouth like that is a little...” Scott laughed before shaking his head. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll train my tongue the old fashioned way.” He wasn’t sure if tolerance to spice and heat could be built up as an adult, though he couldn’t imagine why not. “Yeah, that was my thinking, too. It’s a good thing we don’t have too many people tracking our fights.” Scott wasn’t sure he agreed, though surely the students would dare one another to take on a demon if the chance presented itself. He believed in these kids to succeed, especially if they worked together, but he didn’t want to count on that. “They’re pretty stupid, don’t you think? I’m not sure they’d think it best to target such a concentrated number of mutants, though. Either way, we’ll know with plenty of time.” What precautions would they take in that scenario? They’d probably do fine without warning, but it’d just be simpler to deploy the X-Men outside of the mansion and keep the threat contained.

[cyclxpswasright-blog]

 abornentertainer:

Considering the way things were going in New York these days, Dick was starting to think that he needed to be performing at better than the top of his game. Or, at least, at what his peak had been back when he was training with Bruce every day, and haunting Gotham’s rooftops every night. He was older and theoretically wiser than he’d been back then, but he was also used to fighting threats that were a little more…ordinary. Thankfully, he had some extraordinary friends to help him with that little problem. Or at least, people he was friendly with. He wasn’t sure he’d seen enough of Scott to actually call him a friend, but then again, if they weren’t friends, he didn’t think he’d have accepted Dick’s request to use the X-men’s training facilities. Unless he just wants to watch you get your ass handed to you a few times, Grayson.

Sometimes, his mental voice sounded terrifyingly like Damian.

He didn’t know what exactly to be ready for, so his stance was loose, escrima sticks low, while he listened to Scott’s briefing. Which was pretty straightforward. “Got it,” he called. Disable the robots, rescue the civilians. Thankfully, he had exactly zero ethical hang-ups about breaking a few robots, so the no killing rule would be a non-issue. “Anything I should avoid doing in here, or is it ‘anything goes’?” If the room was likely to explode at ten thousand volts, he’d really rather know about it in advance. He had already figured that trying to anchor a cable anywhere was a bad idea - too much chance of actual structural damage. But there were plenty of other tools on his belt, both metaphorically and literally.

It wasn’t until after he was seated in the booth, looking down at Dick standing in the still inactive Danger Room that he wondered if Nightwing had ever used something similar. Scott didn’t know a hell of a lot about Batman, but his reputation would indicate that this kind of tech was something he could have dreamed into reality back in Gotham. Although there wouldn’t be as many people using it compared to the X-Mansion, there were quite a number of Bats these days, far as he could tell. Nothing prepared you for the field more than the field itself, but concentrated time and effort spent practicing against a few projections and robots could build confidence. Having someone watch your moves and tell you exactly what to work on was harder to arrange out in the real world.

Scott leaned into the mic, though it wasn’t really necessary. It made him easier to see, and he was purposely wearing something of a bored expression. For some reason, he felt like messing with Dick a little. The Danger Room was usually reserved for X-Men, namely because they were ignored or otherwise left alone by the rest of the world as long as they stuck to the mansion. It would be entertaining to see someone who hadn’t gone to school with the room trying to conquer it. “If none of us have broken it by now, I’d say it’s beyond breaking. So, go nuts.” It also helped that as the school and the X-Men grew, the room had undergone numerous upgrades. Scott turned on the simulation without any further instruction and sat back again, waiting for the first sentinel to descend. They were minor conveniences for him in this setting, but for mutants everywhere, sentinels were a very real threat. If only he could shove every mutant hater in the Danger Room with a pack of sentinels and see how they felt when they were the ones being hunted.

[cyclxpswasright-blog]

 sniktcd:

Scott was someone Laura had conflicting feelings about. Without his suggestion, and his sense of urgency, she never would have agreed to join the X-Force. It was no secret that she no longer wanted to take lives, but the very notion of the group made it obvious that the X-Force were focused upon that. The targets they were for were people who shouldn’t be allowed to live, and Betsy dictated those that could be left to survive, but without person surety, Laura hated murder. Those she killed were irredeemable, people who had been trafficking humans for the entirety of their lives, and those that hurt without discrimination. Some of the X-Force’s targets merely seemed afraid, especially of mutants, and they could be reeducated. Still, Laura followed orders, and trusted that Logan wouldn’t lead her astray. She also trusted that Scott Summers had chosen her to join the team for a reason, even if that reason still seemed unfortunately unclear.

Whether he was asking her to join him on a mission for the X-Men was out of convenience or his choice, Laura hadn’t hesitated to agree. Cyclops was her teammate, he was someone she (mostly) respected and the mutant that was terrorizing New York clearly needed intervention before civilians rallied. As Laura surveyed the situation, noting the destruction, she nodded in agreement with Scott. “And do as little damage as possible,” she added. They were both capable of controlling their abilities, but Laura’s claws were naturally very dangerous, and cuts took time to heal without a regenerative healing factor. “I can do that painlessly if you occupy her,” Laura proposed, knowing that she was better suited for the job due to her training. Cyclops’ ability was also very flashy, an excellent distraction. 

As he got older, Scott found that teams made things needlessly complicate, sometimes. He wasn’t cut out to be a solo operation, not that he’d tried since he was seventeen. Being an X-Man, and being a leader, was the only way he knew how to do things. The world was complicated, though. Sometimes various teams were required. The way he saw it, any mutant who they had found and successfully recruited was a teammate, no matter what team they ultimately signed on with. The only exception was the Brotherhood, which was still not as cut and dry as some would like to think. Scott didn’t agree with them, would never be the type to defect to their side, but he trusted people who came from that background and he had never ending hope in one’s ability to change.

Laura, more than many of the mutants he knew, had reason to be angry or violent. And in the past she had been both. Scott wasn’t trying to push her to be something she wasn’t, even if he had urged her to join the X-Force and that may have seemed precarious. He didn’t rely on Laura or any of her teammates, for that matter, to murder. But they were...not completely opposed to the idea, which he couldn’t say for most of his friends. He went to some effort to make sure she knew that she was still invited on X-Men missions, beyond the fact of her still technically being a member. Scott nodded at her before turning his attention to the young mutant and poising a finger beside his visor. He didn’t need to move any closer to fire a blast at the tire of a car behind her that had already been destroyed beyond repair. Laura had taken off and now the younger mutant’s attention was on Scott. She seemed taken aback by the appearance of Cyclops, but she didn’t attack right away. He approached in an effort to talk to her, hoping he could keep her from using her powers until Laura subdued her completely. “Impressive abilities you have there. It’d be a shame if you destroyed the whole city before stepping foot in Xavier’s, don’t you think?” Without a word, she moved the earth beneath his feet and he nearly fell. “All right, we don’t have to talk,” he said, mostly to himself, before pressing on his visor again and aiming at the ground before her feet so she was the one to fall over.

[cyclxpswasright-blog]

 mccoysbeast:

@cyclxpswasright

Hank has spent his whole life feeling so much older than he actually is–wrapped up in his own mind which was so far in front of any of his classmates, wrapped up in trying to just manipulate his own body, which was constantly changing in a way that set him apart as something else, something different. He didn’t see the appeal in getting into the kind of trouble his classmates were getting into, not when he was capable of affecting real change in the world. At least, that was how he felt until he moved into the mansion as a teenager. 

He met Scott and suddenly he wasn’t different at all–he was a kid who was capable of doing as much damage as the next–even more because he was taller and built sturdier than the others. Even into adulthood he’s relied on Scott to remind him that he’s not just an intellectual, or lately a blue furred animal incapable of reason, and he knows that Scott counts on him to draw him out of his own head, to remind him that he’s perfectly capable of the responsibility he shoulders. 

New York being moved and the problems that presents are weighing heavily on all of them, which explains why when he gently pushes the door to Scott’s room open he finds the man passed out on top of a pile of things on his desk, one of those disgusting hot pocket things he favors sitting uneaten next to him. He nudges the sleeping form gently, sprawls out on top of the nearby bed when Scott comes into consciousness. “When was the last time you actually slept for more than two hours in the middle of the day, man? Or ate something that didn’t come frozen?” 

Scott had long ago learned that there was very little that the X-Men were incapable of. While his own sense of self-worth wavers, not always feeling as confident as he should, his belief in his team is unbreakable. This dimensional rift or universal shift or whatever the case may be is proving to be a headache, to put it lightly. Their powers combined to make the impossible possible time and time again but this was different, or it felt different right now. They had faced odds like this before and in retrospect, knowing how things had turned out, he can’t help but think nothing had been as confounding as this. As far as Scott can guess, their only means of returning to Earth is for whoever’s responsible to make that decision, and this doesn’t seem immediately likely.

Although Scott cares, as they all do, about what’s going on with New York City’s displacement, his priorities will always have to be on the school and its students. They’re starting to goof off less during class, which may seem like a positive, but Scott knows better. Their often times carefree energy is dwindling as their situation continues without improvement. He knows that their best bet of finding an answer or making progress is Hank, but they asked so much of Hank. He supposes that’s a genius’s burden. Scott doesn’t want to pile on the work or questions, so he chooses to give himself more and more to do instead.

He awakens slowly, squinting as his eyes adjust to the light still pouring in from his bedroom windows. It takes him a moment to find Hank and he belatedly runs his fingers over his face to make sure his glasses are there, as if he wouldn’t know already if they weren’t. “I have a more regular sleep schedule than anyone else on the team,” he fires back groggily. Or at least as regular. Which isn’t saying much. “Um...yeah. Sometimes I go to Jean’s and she gives me real food.” He hates how that sounds. He’s an adult, he can cook for himself, but it often feels like a waste of his time.

[cyclxpswasright-blog]

 cloudwclker:

A list of powers was minor in the grand scheme of the things. The world was already aware that Ororo was capable of manipulating the weather, though in all likelihood, they could not fathom that she was also capable of stopping a tsunami in its tracks and altering weather patterns from the heavens themselves. Doom could read into her powers — the limited overview Ororo chose to share — however he wished. She would listen to none of his demands, knowing Scott wouldn’t either, but it was a clear sign that the X-Men were willing to work with the President of New York City. Given the countless threats that surrounded citizens and heroes alike, it was an important step to ensure their safety, and secure a place in whatever fights took place against the demons. Ororo was not naive enough to believe that leaving the foreign planet would be simple, the X-Men would certainly be required.

As Scott smiled at her immediate response, Ororo returned his smile, pleased that they were in agreement. They were two of the most notable members, Scott as their leader, and Ororo due to the flash of her powers. A woman illuminated by lightning with stark white hair seemed to be unforgettable to the public, though she had never minded it. In Africa, she was revered as a Goddess and with that responsibility, Ororo had adjusted to the public showing interest. “We could always list the powers they no about and give no more context,” she suggested. “And then like you said, the president can decide for himself how threatening we are.” The government would never realistically understand the capacity of a mutant’s powers. They had chosen to actively underestimate mutants from the start, though this far into their existence, it was more of blessing than a curse. “I agree with you,” Ororo said with a nod. “It may not be ideal, but we’re not giving the world anymore information than they could gather by watching a Youtube video of the X-Men. With that sorted, what do you say we head to the Panel’s headquarters?”

It was hard to tell whether the world underestimated the X-Men or if they chose to ignore them because they seemed to isolate themselves, all living together unlike other teams, and taking on students that might one day take their place on the team. Scott knew that mutants posed a supposed threat because of their power, the hatred hurled at them wasn’t based solely on their altered DNA. Although Scott wanted to be an active participant in keeping New York safe (and, usually, the rest of the world, but there wasn’t much he could do for the rest of the Earth currently) in times like this, it would be nice to fly under the radar. Doom may not have expected any of the X-Men to list their powers, but that would only give him an excuse to take reactionary measures. For Scott’s part, anyone who saw him first noticed his glasses and knew exactly what his powers were. His capabilities were another matter, but the details weren’t mandatory.

“I was thinking the same thing.” That meant he was one of the obvious choices. He also felt it was his job as a leader to take the biggest risks, make the most sacrifices. Overall, Scott wasn’t threatened by the president and he didn’t foresee any harm coming to him or his team by enlisting, but he was willing regardless. “I could guess at Doom’s objectives, but I don’t know what he plans to do with this information. The gesture of willingly complying is more important than what details we hand over.” Scott was never much for politics and he didn’t like playing at them, but with a president like this, it was unavoidable. Especially when there were demons roaming the streets and anyone with abilities was held responsible for keeping them at bay. “Never thought I’d hear you say that,” he replied with a wry smile. “I bet they’ll be surprised to see us.” Scott got to his feet and offered a hand to help Ororo up, more out of courtesy than anything else.

[cyclxpswasright-blog]

 shurayuki:

Breakups, regardless of how they went, were always complex and the one between Betsy and Scott was no different. They were on a team together still, she trusted him to save her life, and expected that he trusted her to do exactly the same. Not only that, but Betsy imagined that Scott would welcome her back on the X-Men in an official capacity. Maybe that was cocky of her, but Betsy had been working on missions with her fellow X-Men, unable to stay away on a permanent basis. The team was like her family, she loved them all dearly, and risking their lives because of her… complex moral issues was hardly fair. At the end of the day, breakup or not, Betsy and Scott (she hoped) would always be friends. Their careers, if you could call super-heroism that, ensured camaraderie whether they were ready for it or not.

“You’re welcome,” Betsy replied with a smile. When Scott looked pleased with his coffee, she tilted her head to the side and informed him, “I’m never going to forget how you like it made.” There were some things that Betsy would always remember regardless of how much time had passed between them, small gestures, and she hoped Scott would remember things about her just the same. When he agreed to let Betsy rejoin his team, she beamed. “Thank you,” she replied, sounding genuinely honoured. The X-Men, although she had been a member, was a big deal to her and they always will be. “I promise I won’t let you down,” she said solemnly, though she hoped that went without saying. Once the X-Force came up, things grew slightly more complicated. Its members weren’t conventional in any sense, and Betsy did agree with some of their… policies, but with time, she hoped that change would come. “I’ve talked to Laura and Warren, they both agreed,” she said after a pause. “The other members come and go so I don’t think there should be a problem there, but I hope to implement some changes, starting with no killing unless it’s absolutely necessary.” Truthfully, she wasn’t sure how much Scott knew about the X-Force and their brutality.

Scott didn’t blame anyone for leaving the team, no matter their reasons. Although, so far, everyone had reasons he either agreed with or understood. And many times, death or something akin to it was what separated an X-Man from the rest of the X-Men. By now, he knew that death was not always an ending, so in any case, if someone wanted to rejoin, he could hardly think of a reason to deny them. They had more members than most organized teams, but they could always use more. Each mutant was different, even those who had the same powers. Jean and Emma could not be less alike, and Betsy in turn differed from both of them. For the team, it didn’t make sense to reject an obvious asset. But as Scott, not Cyclops, he thought of his teammates as his friends, and he couldn’t say no to them.

“Hopefully I never get adventurous and try something new.” It was such a small thing, but Scott appreciated her candor. Although he didn’t know why things had ended, where he may have gone wrong, he knew that the relationship had still meant something to her, even if she didn’t go out of her way to remind him of little quirks and habits she had picked up on and memorized. “No, I know you won’t.” And even if he did, somehow, he still wouldn’t bar her from re-joining. “They have good judgement,” he commented with a smile. He couldn’t imagine Laura leading the team, it didn’t seem like a responsibility she would want. Warren had more potential than he may have believed and Scott could see him as a leader but Betsy would be his first choice, too. “It sounds like you have some good ideas.” This was, he felt, intended to be a light conversation, but with Betsy leading the X-Force now, the two of them would have to talk about their teams regularly. “Sometimes it’s hard to know when lethal force is necessary until it’s too late.” A lot of people thought it was never necessary, even more people thought that saving a teammate’s life wasn’t worth killing an enemy, but Scott disagreed on both fronts. It didn’t make sense to let the world lose a life that was dedicated to making it better and allow a true villain to survive. “But I do trust your decision making skills.”

[cyclxpswasright-blog]

 diamondfrcst:

There was one emotion that Emma rarely felt (contrary to popular belief, she was not nearly as cold as her outer facade would have the grand majority of people believe, though there were times that she wished she felt as she did in her diamond form the rest of the time as well) was guilt. She did what she did for the reasons that she did it. No action she took was spontaneous, no decision she undertook was done so without extensive thought. She was intelligent, she was fast in her reflexes, and everything that she did, she did because there was a purpose to it. There was a reason why Magneto looked on her so favourably, and why Xavier reluctantly admitted to the fact that she was an asset to the X-Men. Emma was a virtuoso in self interest, and that was why both of the teams that she was affiliated with were still standing. If the X-Men were to give into bleeding hearts each and every time there would be no more blood left to shed, and if the Brotherhood were to slit the throats of every threat they faced, they would ultimately create a much bigger adversary than what their ranks could currently manage.

Emma had been raised by businesspeople. She thought of things as a business transaction, which made things monumentally easier. It just so happened that times like this, times when she was sitting beside Scott at breakfast and they were talking so casually, she wondered how he would react if he knew she was playing both sides of the fence. Magneto was aware that she was within the X-Men, he understood that was necessary, but Xavier had no idea, something that Emma was sure to maintain psychic blocks around. It was a secret that would no doubt come out eventually, a secret that would push her even further down the list of mutants that could be trusted within the school, a secret that would lose her the job that she had wanted since she was a child, but it was also the one secret that she assumed would finally break the trust Scott had in her for more than a decade. This wasn’t a one off lie, or a brief moment of betrayal. This was months of deceit, and that was much harder to overlook.

Hopefully, she would never have to see his face when the truth came out. That would make it much easier for everyone involved.

“Other members of the team are allowed to have mental health retreats, why am I exempt from that?” Probably because she had never been possessed by a cosmic entity, but Emma was sure that Scott could fill in the gaps for himself. He had always been quick. “You should’ve called me instead. I would’ve brought it up to your room, saved you the pain of having to listen to teenage melodrama over orange juice.” Emma paused for a moment and then laughed. “Alright, I wouldn’t have, but I would have hired some help to bring it to you instead. Kitty doesn’t seem to be doing anything at the end of the table, after all.” Emma watched Scott’s fingers tap against the coffee cup, saw how his eyes flitted from hers to the table, but she kept her gaze on the side of his face resolutely, as if looking away would prove something that she’d really rather keep hidden. “That’s just the corsets, darling,” Emma said, though she leaned back on the seat with a smirk on her face. “I am glad to see that you still notice. That’s something, at least.” Scott didn’t exactly seem eager about that fact, staring at the bottom of his mug as if it held the answer to how to return New York to earth before long, and Emma wasn’t sure whether to be mildly offended or amused. She settled on amused. Offended gave her frown lines, and she was sure her doctor would run out of botox soon, if the resource crisis was to get worse. “I think you aren’t in a great mood,” Emma replied. The teasing went out of her voice somewhat at the next admission. “I know you do,” she said, softer than she would’ve liked. She cleared her throat, pushed herself up from the table. “Well, we can’t sit here all day. Let’s go somewhere, Scott. For a walk. Yes, that sounds like a plan. I’m in my comfy shoes and everything.” Yes, heels could be considered comfortable. Everyone else was just weak.

He would never say that the sudden loss of his parents was easy, and as a child it hadn’t even occurred to him that the parachute he used could have gone to one of his parents instead. In any scenario, someone would be holding onto Alex, making sure he at least made it. Comparing what the two of them had gone on to do with their lives, Scott knew now more than ever that Alex’s life had been worth saving more so than his own. The moment he jumped from that plane, he had been given a new mission in life: to protect his brother. If nothing else, it gave him a purpose, something to focus on, a task given to him by his parents. But it didn’t take long for Alex to be taken away from him, and although he preferred his brother have the kind of normal childhood Scott couldn’t have, he was completely untethered from anything. Eventually, the X-Men became his new mission, and he treated every member like their lives depended on him, because often times they did. All of this was to say, simply: when Scott Summers dedicated himself to a cause, he dedicated all of himself, and it was difficult for him to accept change or disappointment or deception. He thought it was clear that his heart was with the X-Men, but more than most, Emma had a firm control over that particular organ. While others questioned what he might see in someone like her, he had to wonder how they could be so blind to her positive qualities.

“You’re not. Those ‘retreats’ just happen to follow traumatic events, and I apologize if I’m mistaken, but I’m almost positive nothing horrible has happened to you recently.” Of course, that was subjective. Of course, she could argue that many everyday annoyances had earned her a vacation. She wasn’t entirely wrong, but when compared to what Jean or Kitty or some of the other X-Men had gone through in the last few years, it wasn’t quite the same. “I would hate to treat you like room service,” he nearly deadpanned. And in a world where this was even remotely possible, if Emma was in his room, she probably wouldn’t leave immediately after delivering his coffee. “She still has better things to do than bring me coffee,” he muttered, a bit needlessly. Nobody in the school would be best suited to menial tasks. It was hard not to notice. He wasn’t the only one. Neither of these were comments he wanted to make, so instead he indulged her with a smirk. “My eyes may have their problems, but they work just fine.” Scott adjusted his glasses, as if anyone would ever forget they were there for even a second. He stopped averting her eyes just a moment before she stood and although he would have to hesitate as if it was a choice, no matter what she said next, he knew he’d be involved. “It would be stupid not to go for a walk when you came so prepared.” It was still raining every so often and he really did wonder if her heels might be in danger of sinking into some muddy grass. “I’m not going to carry you when your shoes realize they don’t like exercise, though.”

[cyclxpswasright-blog]

 lifeincarncte:

Jean had never been fearless, but she had always prided herself on the fact that she could swallow her fear and move forward without letting it shackle her to the wall. When she returned to school a few years ago to get her doctorate, she had quickly realised that her coping mechanisms were extremely unhealthy. She didn’t move on from trauma, she pushed it away, she pretended that it hadn’t happened, she ignored its existence. In many ways that was necessary. The human psyche could only handle so many things at once, after all, and X-Men had a traumatic event every single week if they were pushed to admit so. Gradually, though, in the months since the Phoenix had been gone Jean had been going into her mindscape, had been pushing the boundaries of what she knew. In her mind, she had apologised to her friends a thousand times over, had made things better with Scott (even if he said there was nothing awkward in the air around them, Jean felt as if something had shifted, but then again, the entire world had under her feet), had finally told Ororo that she should’ve listened to her when her best friend expressed concerns about the Phoenix. Back then, Jean had been blind to the consequences, but now she was seeing things perfectly clearly. Or trying to, at least. “I don’t,” Jean said, looking at him for a long moment. “I feel the same way. The past wasn’t perfect but … I think sometimes, it was a lot better than now.” She chewed on the corner of her lip, shrugged a little as the breeze flowed through the grass. “We can still change now, though, right? It’s not too late.” Jean knew she believed in what she was saying, but as always, she felt better about being hopeful if Scott was there along with her. He always had so much more capacity for inspiring people than she did, especially now. “We could’ve regressed,” Jean suggested, a slight tease to her voice. “I know there are some mutants out there who, once they discover their powers, only lose control of them more as they get stronger. We were the opposite.” For the most part. Awkward.

The world they had left behind would surely be suffering, something that Scott’s mind had touched on too. Earth was unprotected by the Avengers and X-Men, and who knows what they would return to. Jean wanted to be hopeful, and so she was. Jean smiled, feeling a flutter of nervousness in her stomach that she hadn’t experienced since she was a literal teenager. “As long as you want,” she said, the answer sounding more like a question than the previous request had. “I mean, you definitely need to try some of my biryani. I finally perfected Mom’s recipe. Mostly. It doesn’t look the same, but the taste is definitely in the ballpark.” She was rambling. Why was she rambling? She was supposed to be used to this, she’d had half the team after her at one point or another, yet here she was. Rambling. Now her inner voice was rambling about rambling. “If Ororo suggested it, of course I am,” Jean said, the unspoken being that if Scott was doing it, she’d be by his side. “It’s our responsibility to take the fall for the students, isn’t it? Besides, it’s not like registration all over again. This is the president, it’s different.” Was it? Jean honestly hoped so. She couldn’t get a clear enough read on the president when she went to his press conference. The demons interfered with her telepathy so much that she preferred to tone it down rather than turn it up. “Have you met any of the invisible demons yet? Betsy mentioned having a run in with one. I feel as if I’ve missed something.”

Of all the people who wanted to study mutants, with their many varying intentions, he thought a psychologist would find the most interesting information. The X-Gene had been studied time and time again, but nobody was knocking on the mansion door asking to simply observe the dynamic between the X-Men or the X-Force or even between the students. It was a completely unique situation, to be taught alongside your peers and then to fight on the same team, for years after graduation. The original X-Men didn’t have that exact relationship, but theirs was also hard to replicate anywhere else. They had been thrown onto this team while learning and though they had come together willingly enough, for Scott, at least, it was hard to see an alternative way of living. Just like any environment where the same people saw one another day in and day out, there was plenty of dating between X-Men, relationships that inevitably had to end one day. With Jean, this was part of his problem. They had been separated largely by death, something so completely out of his control. “I think that’s true for everything. Growing up is a fear people have because life inevitably gets more complicated.” For Scott, he barely remembered the life he had before complicated. He was still a child when his parents had died and joining the X-Men had changed his world completely, for the better. Scott had been opting for the oblivious route, as if she could have been talking about anything. “We can’t pretend every mistake and tragedy that led us here didn’t happen, but we...can choose to keep going, to decide that now can be just as good as then, even if it’s different.” A number of times, Scott’s powers had gotten stronger unexpectedly but for the most part, he avoided mass destruction. Jean’s powers, the ones that were actually hers, never seemed to throw her for a loop. “I think I’d have to gain control over my mutation in order to lose it,” he commented wryly.

Scott forced things that weren’t world ending on the back burner often, thinking that it was irresponsible to focus on anything when there were more dangerous matters to consider. Their current situation wasn’t something he could fix by focusing on it harder, it just made him feel more powerless. If, somehow, throughout this ordeal he could repair things with Jean, it wasn’t an opportunity he would push away, even if it seemed indulgent to be worrying about his personal relationships when the world was likely in trouble. “Be careful with offers like that,” he said softly, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “I think the spices take precedence over the aesthetics.” While Scott’s eyes were, strangely, used to taking a lot of heat, his mouth was much weaker. But if Jean wanted to laugh at him, he would welcome it. “It feels similar,” he voiced, a bit needlessly, the way they were all feeling. It was why none of them had volunteered to list their powers and Scott knew many of the other X-Men would be looking to him for next steps. “The government has never been our biggest supporter, but I doubt that handing over a list of anyone’s powers is going to change anything.” At least, he hoped not. It was the way one used their abilities that mattered, not the simple fact of having them. Doom would still be easy to throw off guard, should it come to that. “No, not yet. Fingers crossed,” he taunted, like she sounded upset about now being attacked. “They don’t seem too interested in infiltrating the school, so I doubt I’ll be going head to head with a demon any time soon.”

[cyclxpswasright-blog]

@xstudycat

There were a whole lot of things that Scott Summers was not very good at and most of them had to do with social interactions. Leaders, he had always thought, were supposed to be charismatic and personable, somebody others felt comfortable talking to about their problems and concerns, maybe even their feelings. Scott knew he was not this kind of leader. He had to be assertive if he wanted answers and he hardly knew the meaning of the word closure. He had yet to talk to Jean in any real way about her latest return from the brink of death and he was fairing just about as well, if not worse, with Kitty. Enough time had passed now that maybe both of them would be better at talking about it, but he wasn’t overly hopeful. Just hopeful enough to try.

He found Kitty sitting at the kitchen table with some sort of snack and took the seat beside her, not even bothering to grab a piece of fruit as if he had any intentions aside from speaking to her. “I hope this is a good time,” he started, and really he did, but even if it wasn’t, he was going to plunge ahead. Kitty hadn’t said anything, and none of his ex-girlfriends would ever divulge whether or not her thoughts were more explicit, but he could tell. Or he could just as well have been projecting. “How are you...feeling?” Scott had attempted a casual tone but stuffed up by hesitating. “Any students causing you trouble? Because you know, I can, um, tell them to cut it out.” As if any of these kids ever listened to him.

[cyclxpswasright-blog]

@sniktcd

Scott would say that he trusted all of the X-Men, because he quite literally entrusted each of them to save his life on various occasions. When it came to reigning in confused or distressed mutants who were (purposely or not) destroying the city, he had to choose carefully. Often times he would not even go himself, but the damage was piling up quickly and he didn’t have much of a choice. Laura was available, and willing, and he could hardly think of somebody he would rather have by his side. Neither of them were the most comforting or outwardly compassionate people, but he had faith that they could get through to this mutant. After all, Scott had done some damage himself when his powers first emerged. He only hoped this person wasn’t actively seeking destruction.

They hadn’t even needed the use of Cerebro with how immediately this mutant had made the news. The press would always jump on an angry mutant, hungry to capture proof of their danger to the world. When they arrived in the financial district, Scott took in the sight with furrowed brows. “We’ll need to attack first and talk later.” He knew this would already be Laura’s plan, but he wanted her to know that they were on the same page. “Let’s--” Scott was interrupted by the ground moving angrily beneath their feet and he wondered where exactly the nearest fault line was. “Let’s try to knock her out and get her away from all these skyscrapers.” Spotting the woman in question about ten feet away, this seemed like an easy enough task as she was quite small, even though her powers were intimidating.

[cyclxpswasright-blog]

@abornentertainer

If not for the Danger Room, Scott wasn’t sure where he would be today. Dead seemed like an overreach, but there was really no exaggerating the impact it’d had on him, both when it came to holding his own during a mission and leading his team to safety. He hadn’t always been successful on either count, nor did he expect to be. Just like any man, Scott wasn’t infallible. Sometimes it felt like he was more susceptible to making mistakes because he had so much on the line whenever he put on his costume and left the mansion. The Danger Room was always high pressure, but in a way he could quite literally control. 

His relationship with Dick Grayson was, by and large, a friendly one. They had similar temperaments, in part thanks to being thrust into leadership roles from a young age. While Dick had left his various teams, always moving on to some new challenge, Scott was sure he would never be capable of doing the same. Even when he left the X-Men, it seemed he was destined to return. The thing about being alike was that it often led to competition, and Scott knew he couldn’t do half the acrobatics that Grayson could, but he wondered how well Nightwing would handle himself against an exclusively mutant threat. He sat in the control booth, looking at Dick standing ready for something he couldn’t possibly be prepared for. “I’ve programmed the sentinels to treat you like a mutant,” he said into the microphone. “You have to by-pass and hopefully destroy them while trying to rescue a group of people who backed themselves against a wall.” The people were also mutants, it went without saying, who had found safety in a cave but couldn’t leave without facing certain death.

[cyclxpswasright-blog]

 cloudwclker:

Ororo had always been prepared to take risks to keep her students safe. There was never a moment where she considered jeopardizing their safety for own. That being said, Ororo would uphold to her morals as she protected them. She had absolutely refused to Register, refused to give the government control over herself and her powers, which luckily, her fellow X-Men agreed with. Their powers were incredibly intense, and while they wouldn’t be used as weaponry, Ororo refused to take the risk. It was clear that the Panel wasn’t above forcing those that Registered to hunt the Unregistered over a year ago, and while the list didn’t seem to resemble that particular horror, Ororo would be the first admit that she was apprehensive about Doom’s intentions. The X-Men were more than capable of denying any demands he attempted to make, she wasn’t concerned about that, and it would prevent mutantkind from being looked at too closely. Ultimately, there was no winning, and judging by the government’s previous position, the List could quickly become dangerous. Luckily, Scott seemed to agree with her assessment.

“Thank you,” she repeated with a small smile. When Cyclops had taken over the X-Men, Ororo had initially been worried about his leadership skills. Scott wasn’t the most outgoing man, but since, he had proven to be very capable, and their relationship had only grown closer. It was no surprise that he appreciated her honesty, and that he didn’t hesitate to volunteer his own powers to become very, very public. “Of course I’m willing,” she said without hesitation. “That being said, I would prefer to keep some particulars secret.” Ororo’s Omega status made her one of the most powerful mutants alive and it made her very, very valuable if a war broke out. “I would prefer that the government didn’t know that I can alter the weather on a cosmic scale, but I will list everything that they’ve theorized I can do, like create storms, manipulate tides…” she trailed off, knowing Scott could easily figure out Ororo’s play. “I think we should ask everyone honestly and allow them to make up their minds. It’ll take several, but our team has never doubted us before.” She sighed as she spoke, wondering if Doom would seriously accept a small amount of mutants coming forward. “It’s not ideal, but I believe it’s the only option we have. What do you think, Scott?”

Providing the president with a list (in Scott’s case, it wouldn’t be much of one) was not the worst decision in the end. The way things were going, he was willing to do much more, though he would draw a line at registering. His team, and all mutants, were constantly sidelined despite the scope and depth of their abilities. One of them becoming an Avenger had been surprising at the time and the way Scott saw things, no progress had been made since then. It must have surprised absolutely nobody when the X-Men jointly decided not to register. A select few stepping forward to give Doom what he wanted might be shocking, but hopefully the fact that they were making an effort at all would keep the government abated. Sometimes it felt as if the X-Men were in a world all their own. Despite all of the troubles space travel had brought them, it seemed they would be better off leaving Earth to its own devices and setting up camp elsewhere. But Scott didn’t want to live in a society of only mutants. He just wanted to co-exist without the tension, the judgement, and everything else that came along with being what he was.

He was double checking just as a courtesy, but he couldn’t help smiling at the immediacy of her response. They would both do whatever it took to avoid any attacks on the mansion without a second thought. Some mutations, as Scott knew well, couldn’t be hidden. Many of them had no choice in the matter of concealing what they could do or what alias they used while in costume. Despite the unavoidable transparency, there was a lot about their abilities that people didn’t understand, and Scott thought they had a right to some degree of privacy. “You don’t have to qualify anything. Let the president decide how he wants to estimate us.” If the government had full access to their mutations, they wouldn’t be saving anyone. It was doubtful they could go on operating as they did if Doom knew just how much power they held, especially as a collective. Scott might mention how his optic blast could blow the roof off of a building, but it seemed needless to expand on how he might just as easily pierce a hole through a mountain. “If they follow your lead, they shouldn’t have anything to worry about. Nothing we do is ideal, we make the best of whatever problem we’re given. And I think, if not ideal, this is the safest plan, crazy as that might sound.” Even if their powers lost some of their unpredictability, it was the way they wielded their abilities that earned them victories, not the element of surprise.

[cyclxpswasright-blog]

 diamondfrcst:

Scott trusted too easily. He gave far too many second chances. He was also painfully aware of that fact, something that Emma found endlessly interesting about him. A man that recognised his strengths as well as his weaknesses and held both in equal regard was a rare thing to find indeed, something that her father could never claim to have possessed. Emma had rarely ventured into her father’s mind, knowing that what she would find there would be nothing less than horrifying, but when she did, she found it to be simple. His motivations were complete and entire, they were singularly focused, and they were based around money and power, in that order. He didn’t care about respect. He didn’t care about tradition, though he claimed that he did when he cast Christian out of their home, pushing his own son away based on who he loved. He cared about how his children’s actions would impact on his potential to earn money, and that was it. Scott was nothing like Winston Frost. He was kind, he was compassionate, though at times he was an utter failure at showing that much. He was thoughtful. He tried his best in everything that he did, and when he failed, he admitted that much. He pushed the students to be the best version of themselves that they could be, and to an extent, he did that for Emma, too.

Maybe that was why they had broken up in the first place. Scott, after all, might not have been like Emma’s father, but she was, though slightly inverted. She wanted power. Complete and utter, unquestionable power. To do that, she couldn’t be the person that being around Scott made her. She had to be cold, unfeeling, more concerned with the end than the means. Her students were an exception to that, but one that she could accept - after all, they were her strength when she was weakened, her army when she would otherwise be alone, and her children when she had none. Scott, though, he was a distraction. Always had been, and now that she was looking at him over breakfast, she realised that he always would be. A shame. That colour of shirt really did suit him.

“Siberia,” Emma repeated, a smirk pulling at the corner of her lips. “I might take that little piece of advice to heart, darling, when we get back into our dimension again.” If Emma had gone away from the city, perhaps she would’ve been left on earth while the rest of the X-Men were in space. She would’ve claimed to be pleased, but she wasn’t a complete monster. She would’ve missed them, at the very least. When Scott pushed himself up from the chair, Emma smirked even more intently, leaning back on her chair to take a long sip of coffee. “Did something bite you, sweetheart?” she asked when he sat down beside her once more. “To think, you went for a refill and didn’t even get your favourite telepath something from the cookie jar. Good thinking, though. I want to maintain my waistline.” And her fitness, if she was going to be forced to fight those dull invisible creatures. “I wonder why that is,” Emma said, leaning forward on her seat now, hearing the sniggering comments of the students across the table. “What about you, Mr. Summers?” Emma asked, setting her coffee down so that she could look at him more intently. “Where are you in a better mood?”

It was only because most of the X-Men had known Scott for over a decade that he could afford to be so formal with them, showing vulnerability on rare occasions. When it came to reassuring the others of their own strengths, he had no problem expressing pride, and he could just as easily point out areas of weakness to improve upon. Being measured, he hoped, meant that either way, they listened to him. When it came to Emma, she didn’t need pointers, and she wouldn’t care to hear about her so-called weaknesses. If he felt she was falling back into bad patterns, he would make his concerns known, but he could only hope that she would hear him. Unlike many of the others living in the mansion, his fears came from a place of caring, not just concern about where her allegiances may lie and how this would hurt the mutants who wanted to help mankind.

Complicated was too tame a word for the way he felt towards her, or the way their relationship stood at any given point. He tended to keep her at an arms length, whether this was for her benefit or his, but he also knew that she needed somebody in her corner. Outside of him, there weren’t many options. Scott’s position as a leader didn’t actually carry that much sway with the rest of the X-Men, but as long as he trusted her, she would always have a place on the team. The students didn’t even seem to fear her as much anymore, based on the way they not-so-subtly eavesdropped on conversations and reacted openly. His main problem was calibrating just how closely to hold her -- in a non-literal sense. Sometimes in a literal sense. Scott’s most obvious weakness was women who he couldn’t hide from.

“If you run out to Siberia the second we return to Earth, people might think you’ve experienced some kind of mental breakdown.” In a way, being stranded out in who-knew-where was a little bit like being in Siberia, except in Emma’s case all of the students were still there, so it hardly felt the same. He decided to keep a few select remarks to himself, offering her a faint shrug instead. “When coffee calls, you answer.” Which, he reminded himself, was what had led him there in the first place. Maybe he should learn how to sleep in. Have Hank rig up some kind of coffee IV that would deliver the caffeine he so desired at approximately 8am without him needing to get up at all. Surely that would not be a waste of his scientific brain at all. Scott barely managed to cover up a scoff, pretending to clear his throat. He wouldn’t name a favorite telepath, but. “Your waistline hasn’t moved an inch in all the time I’ve known you. I don’t think it’s capable.” Even without her looks, Scott was sure Emma would still easily break just as many hearts. Scott held his coffee with both hands, staring into the mug as if it would teleport him to another room. “Why, you think I’m in a bad mood? I love the kids.” He had probably never sounded more like an old man.