jean grey

we come into this world alone, and we leave the same way. jean grey telekinetic mutant phoenix “not everything set on fire will rise.”

[fairphoenix-blog]

rctribution :

He considered her question with a pinched brow, head tilting just slightly to one side. “Yeah,” came his breathy answer, a touch of something akin to sympathy skimming across the phrase. Frank’s brows furrowed once more, weight shifting from one leg to the other, heavy boots scraping against gravel. “Not my place to tell, ma’am.” Though he may not have shown it, the ex-Marine was glad to see her beginning to calm down; not to mention taking it ( whatever IT was ) in her stride was bordering admirable. It seemed like it was a pain in the ass. “You know an Xavier by any chance?”

“Charles Xavier? He’s a good man. My teacher, actually.” The name was both an anchor and a spark --- vague uncertainty came with it, where before there was only blinding trust. She remembered what he had taught her ( you aren’t alone ), but secrets, secrets, secrets... She could still taste the secrets on everyone, and it caused her head to split again. “Thank you,” she spoke directly into his mind, afraid that if she opened her mouth she would split too. 

[fairphoenix-blog]

Music rose her soul, lifting her heart with that joyous feeling of hope. She hummed along to the beat, and she swayed slightly to the sound of it all. The world was separate from her; the world was a part of her. She didn’t even notice when another stood before here, trying to pull her from this moment of peace, until they spoke again. “Hmm?” 

[alayne-stonecoldfox]

[fairphoenix-blog]

emmafrosticle :

This part cut me

[lifeinpoetry]

I am aflame. Around me,  everything dies.

Camille Rankine, from “Self-Portrait as Allegory,” published in jubilat (via lifeinpoetry)

[riveralwaysknew]

Guardians of the Galaxy/All-New X-Men 2014 - The Trial of Jean Grey

Scott: Jean!

Bobby: What was that?

Imperial Guard: Has she ever done that before?

Kitty: No. 

Hank: Is that the phoenix? 

Gamora: I think that is something else entirely. 

Rocket: Whatever it is, we’re winning. And this is the krutacking imperial guard, we shouldn’t be!

[fairphoenix-blog]

Weird. Strange. Dangerous. In the walls of the training room, the thoughts of her team members usually rang loudly --- directed toward her, they felt even crueler than they would outside. There were few she felt comfortable training with, and Scott Summers happened to be one of them. ( Deep sigh of relief as she realized she would be with him for today’s lesson. ) The room shifted as the training simulation was crafted around them, and she flashed him a timid smile. “Are you ready?” 

[thetelepcth]

               ❝You’re doing great, you just need to focus a little more. Don’t think about what went wrong, just feel your power, let it seep into you so you can reach out for it. Ready to try again?❞

[fairphoenix-blog]

“ --- You don’t understand,” she hissed, pinching the bridge of her nose. It was the complaint of a child; she understood that, but it slipped from her all the same. In her hands, she held galaxies, and on her tongue, she tasted atoms. How could anyone understand such lack of control? She let out a small sigh and glanced his way once more. “It vibrates in my mind, and it hurts. I’ll try again, if you think it will help.” 

[thepxrfectstorm]

Would you mind passing me that box of matches?

[fairphoenix-blog]

“Dare I ask what you plan to do with them?” 

[fairphoenix-blog]

rctribution :

He wasn’t sure what it was; some sort of ‘ other presence ’ - it took a moment to realise the only other time he’d been aware of this sort of thing was when he was around Charles. As if the power the individual possessed simply couldn’t be contained in a simple being and ended up spilling over. Her movement backwards occurred the very same moment a nearby shopping cart seemed to develop a mind of its own; Frank was nowhere near ready to put that down as coincidence. It was only her words that brought him forth from his thoughts, dark hues flickering away from the cart back to her, scrutinising. He blatantly ignored the questions for a moment, laughing just slightly at a comment surrounding a headache. “Helluva headache, ma’am.” Finally, his head tipped to one side, his weight shifting. “There’s no dealin’ with it, it just is. Gotta take it in my stride. I don’t think anyone’s come for me - I hope they haven’t for; their sake. What about you? Somethin’ trigger that ‘ headache ’ of yours?”

“Sometimes, sometimes --- the world is loud, is it not? Do you not feel it?” He felt something; he felt everything. ( Blank face did not mean blank heart, no matter what others would have her believe. She knew their secrets. ) Her breath remained shaky, but the sharp voices in her head were beginning to dim. “...Gotta take it in stride,” she repeated. “I’m sorry. You won’t...tell anyone, will you?” 

[fairphoenix-blog]

rctribution :

His attention was brought to the young woman almost instantly; years of working as a Scout Sniper meant keen eyes even when one wasn’t paying fully conscious attention to their surroundings. It wasn’t windy out, that was why the bags rustling caught his eye, he assumed. Without so much as a second thought Frank approached, ceasing all movement only when she spoke up. As far as he could recall he hadn’t said anything, and so her words were met with confusion. “Excuse me? Ma’am?”

Death -- that was what she felt first, heavy on her ( on his? ) tongue. She could almost see the red, and she wasn’t certain if it was his memory or hers any longer. Without hesitation, she stumbled back, and her thoughts turned to the nearby shopping cart, sending it flying between them. Calm your mind; calm your mind; calm your mind. “Stop.” The thoughts were not so loud as they had been moments prior, and she squeezed her eyes shut in an effort to chase down that quietness. “You see so much, Frank. How do you deal with it? The bag shifts, and you’re alert. Do you think someone has come for you here, or is it just habit?” The words were half-muttered to herself, and realizing she spoke them aloud, she tightened her hold on the bags and stood straighter. ( The atoms in the air stilled; she could sense them. ) “I’m fine -- just a headache.” 

[fairphoenix-blog]

godsxgiift :

Warren was not born a sensitive soul. Raised in a world that found pride in self obsession and caring and sympathy were seen as affectations of the weak, the boy that arrived at Xavier’s was a callous and egotistical stereotype, far too involved with himself to pay attention to the needs of his friends. But he was a quick study. How could he not when living next to such power, where a shaky breath could escalate to the room crashing down. So when Jean hissed at him to stop, it was like a switch had been pulled. His inane chatter cut off mid sentence as he watched, and waited in intense quiet. After a moment, in a low tone, “Want a lift out of here?”.

For a moment, she had forgotten he was there. ( How could it be that an angel spoke to her now, when she had never felt farther from the light? ) “It doesn’t matter,” she finally answered, eyes wide as she turned to stare at him -- to apologize without words for this thing that she was. Forcing a breath into her lungs, she tried to stop the shake of her hands and the way the cars around them had begun to shake with her. “...I hear you. Perhaps you are right.” 

[lifeinpoetry]

My heart is turning to ashes. It casts no shadow.

Lisa Ciccarello, from “The Tower,” BOAAT Press (via lifeinpoetry)

[fairphoenix-blog]

master-of-mystic-arts :

“Ah, then I must not sound as–pardon me–strange to you as I thought.” Stephen was glad she was familiar with magic practitioners of some sort, so she would not think him a raging lunatic. And she herself was a telepath. That explained quite a bit. “A pleasure to meet you, my dear. I can understand now why you would wish to calm your mind, but I fear my experience with probing the minds of others is more limited than yours. I do not hear others’ thoughts continually; thus I may be a poor adviser on how to shut them out. But I am more than willing to explain about myself to clear up any confusion. I know such a title may come off as pompous, but it was something bequeathed to me. I did not claim it myself nor do I use it lightly. In terms of skill, there is little that sets me apart from others who excel at practicing magic. What makes me the Sorcerer Supreme is my vow to protect the inhabitants of Earth from the powers of darkness, a task I will not shirk. So you see it is much more of a responsibility than it is something about which to brag.”

“I have entertained the help of telepaths before -- both are geniuses, both are helpful, yet even still... Perhaps it is the help of a sorcerer that I need.” She was willing to attempt anything and test waters that she had previously not considered; after all, there was still so much she did not understand. “Our goals are not so different then. Those I know long to do the same. It’s a noble quest, I believe -- a responsibility I hope you find worthwhile.” 

[fairphoenix-blog]

Jean stood in the parking lot of the store, bags in each hand and feet frozen against the pavement. How many times had she gone through this routine? Something had shifted in the few moments she had been outside, and thoughts poured into her without pause -- overwhelming, frightening, and endlessly, endlessly, endlessly loud. Even when she heard another approach, she could not focus on the physical so much as the mental of the world around her. “Be quiet,” she hissed, and the bags in her hand quaked with that untameable power. “Please.” 

[lifeinpoetry]

[Her] eyes are sinkholes, she is death / tessellated into moonlight

Rachana Hegde, from “VERA & HER LIES,” deluged (via lifeinpoetry)

[fairphoenix-blog]

thxspideyguy :

Peter faltered, again, not entirely sure what she had meant by that. But she seemed genuinely curious, and he couldn’t help but relax a little at that. “Uh, right.” Catching himself, he shook his head, flashing a brief smile. “Nah, just pictures. I don’t really click with the whole journalism thing, so, freelance photography is.”

It seemed half a job, but it was far more than anything she could do, leaving her still impressed. “Have you captured anything exciting then?” 

[fairphoenix-blog]

diamondfrost :

“I’m thrilled you came, darling,” And I missed you, my Jean. Emma’s smile was radiant, perfectly in her element and all the more dazzling for it. Diamonds always looked best in the proper setting, after all. You’re always welcome, you know. “It’s nice to talk to you, after that time debacle. It did work out for the better though, didn’t it? Your hope was well-founded, imagine that,” Her voice was teasing, coming out behind the desk to walk towards her visitor. 

“Don’t worry -- I won’t let it go to my head.” If she could cause Emma to feel that growing bud of hope that was so close to blossoming within Jean’s chest, then she would consider herself victorious. ( And then she would brag about it. ) “How are you?”