FEED ME DIAMONDS

[frostwill]

XMARKSTHESCOTT·.

IT’S A FANTASY, this idea of paradise and hard fought dreams coming true. he’s not naive enough to think that in one fell swoop, all their dreams will come true. she’s holding back, regret maybe, doubt. and he’s holding in just the same, a shame for all the things he cannot share with her. his fears, his unease –he’ll tell her one day soon, that he’s sure of. he’s too pragmatic for fantasy, lost too much to believe in the unbelievable, but with her right here and now, he’s sure he could fool himself into believing. 

there’s a moment she hesitates against him, leaving him to wonder if perhaps he’d been too forward (and when has that ever been an issue for him? a first, surely). but soon enough, she melts against him and he’s taken back to utopia –sunset beaches and promises made of a life together. it’s possible now, it’s within reach if he just takes it. he can finally take it.

back then, it had been her who eased his worries, staying up late with him as he overcame his nightmares. when his demons crept up in his mind to haunt him, it was her fingers that combed through his hair gently, whispering sweet snippets of affection to lay ease to his heart. doubt has consumed him for what seems like his whole life, and now, he’ll be there for her as she’s always been for him.

❛  self doubt is my thing, ms. frost. don’t tell me you picked up on that habit while i was gone.  ❜ a light crack to ease the tension although a smile doesn’t quite reach his face. his finger smooths against the back of her hand, affectionate eyes peering over at her. if she could hear his thoughts right now, would she feel ease? if she knew the depths of his compassion for her and how far she’s come? ❛  i made a few mistakes when i was alive. but if i remember, i had you in my corner. and now, you have me in yours –i never left, emma. even when i was gone.  ❜ 

he pauses, taking a moment to press a kiss to her hand. ❛  let me in. let me help and we’ll figure it out together like we always have. when it comes to going up against the odds, i don’t think there’s a better team than us. ❜

for  the  briefest  moment,  she  fights  off  the  MAD  IMPULSE  to  laugh   --   but  it’s  true  enough,  she  supposes.     self  doubt  is  his  thing ;   self  hatred  hers.     there’s  a  sweet  sense  of  familiar  teasing  in  the  way  he  phrases  his  objection,  but  WHERE  IT  COUNTS,  IT  MISSES :   doubt  is  the  wrong  word.     there  is  no  uncertainty  in  the  CONDEMNATIONS  she  levies  against  herself.     he  has  always  been  questions  and  false  starts,  faltering  at  the  finish  line,  am  i  doing  the  right  thing,  DID  I  DO  THE  RIGHT  THING,  EMMA   --   not  that  he  ever  needed  worry,  with  that  TRUE  NORTH  COMPASS  in  his  chest,  that  unwavering  sense  of  right.     he  made  her  job  easy   that  way.     he  only  ever  needed  reminding  of  what  he  ALREADY  KNEW,  but  could  not  hold  to  with  certainty  until  he  heard  it  in  her  voice. 

it  could  be  that  SHE  COULD  STAND  TO  LEARN  from  him  that  way.     she  is  always  so  sure.     (  sure  that  she  had  more  to  offer  to  her  HELLIONS  than  xavier,  sure  that  she  would  keep  them  safe.     sure  that  she  could  keep  a  handle  on  ADRIENNE  when  she  came  calling.     sure  that  lasting  peace   would  find  her  in  GENOSHA.     sure  that  FORTY-TWO  CHILDREN  stripped  of  their  gifts  would  be  safer  far  from  their  walls.     sure  that  she  could  hold  PHOENIX  FIRE  between  her  hands  and  burn  nothing  she  loved.     sure  that  he  would  want  this,  made  MARTYR  in  his  death.     sure  that  she  ought  to  WREAK  HER  LOVING  VENGEANCE  upon  the  inhuman  crown.     sure  that  MOTHERVINE  would  be  worth  it.     sure  that  HELLFIRE  would  be  worth  it. )     she  is  always  so  sure,  always  so  wrong,  always  ALL  TOO  LATE.

GOD,  but  it  doesn’t  seem  to  matter   when  his  thumb  rubs  gentle  circles  over  the  back  of  her  hand.     she  looks  up  at  him,  and  hopes  her  eyes  find  his.     the  thin  strip  of  RADIANT  RED  that  crosses  his  face  has  always  recalled  to  her   a  SUN  breaking  over  a  horizon,  a  dawn,  fresh  and  beautiful  as  cool  air  wet  with  dew.     it’s  easy,  when  his  LIPS  PRESS  to  her  slight  knuckles,  to  believe  that  there  is  always  another  day  coming,  all  brimming  with  life  and  potential,  where  without him  she  might  be  SWALLOWED  in  the  wreckage  of  the  last  night.

she  plans  to  say  something  that  WILL  NOT  BREAK  HIS  HEART,  but  the  lie  of  it  catches  in  her  throat.       “ you  did   leave. ”       oh,  there  she  goes.       “ i’m  sorry,  scott   --   i  know  you’re  TRYING  to  say  something  SWEET   --   and  i’m  not  saying  this  so  you’ll  feel  guilty,  or  to  make  you  apologize  for  dying,  but  i  can’t  pretend  you  were  ALWAYS  HERE  IN  MY  HEART  or  some  other  such  ridiculous  hallmark  card  platitude.     you  were  gone.     things  would  have  been  --  I  WOULD  HAVE  BEEN  very  different  had  you  not  been  absolutely,  indisputably,  and  inconsolably  gone. ”

[frostwill]

critical role sentence starters !!!

so… we’ll talk later.

why won’t you stay down and die with dignity?

no. no further.

this is not over. it can’t be.

try not to have too much fun without us.

i have this blink candle. it’s formed from various animals that blink.

it’s so rare that we’re actually given the opportunity to be honest about everything. we might as well try it once and see if we like it.

you know i’m in love with you, right?

you seem… like a person. and that’s great.

those are coins! you’re not making it rain, you’re making it hail!

i’m killing someone, hold please.

your secret is safe with my indifference.

my heart is someone else’s.

do not go far from me. if we are out of earshot, you are too far from me.

um, i don’t know if it’s the food you made or the fact that we’re going to die tomorrow, but i want to kiss you.

i was all kinds of fucked up a few weeks ago.

you’re all kinds of fucked up all the time. we all are. and that’s why we’re together.

i just want to let you know… i am possibly the worst person you’ve ever met.

i think i kind of hope… not necessarily to hurt you or harm you, but i hope that one day… that you can know just how awful i can be.

you can curse, it’s okay. you killed one of us.

i think i’ve always been in love with the idea of you.

i was only gone for thirty seconds!

i encourage violence.

i can give you the means to protect them.

i do not want to die who i am. i’d like to live long enough to be someone else.

you’re on your own, fuckface.

a volcano is - is nature’s candle!

sometimes people go and they don’t come back.

do you spice?

so we’re going to kill everyone that we see in the next ten seconds.

i don’t want to be here if you’re not.

i told you before. no one kills you but me.

he traded his life!

i don’t have very many things that i care about and i don’t have anything that cares about me.

i’m great! well, not really, but i’m just going to pretend i’m happy so everybody can be okay!

i’ve been in a barrel for an hour. i fell asleep in there!

yes. i heard. it was the only thing i heard.

don’t cry. i’m just a little cold.

i bury my shame.

i should have told you. it’s yours.

forgiveness - that’s the key, isn’t it? it’s the only way to really grow.

your hair’s a mess. sit still.

you are my heart. you are me. you are my other half. you are welcome with me always.

you don’t always have to put on a brave face, dear.

we’re friends, right? are we friends?

i know we don’t always agree and i know i can be unkind, but… you know you’re family, right?

i’ve had a terrible thought. and it is sort of my business to have terrible thoughts.

take me instead.

we walk towards glory.

that’s mine! that’s mine!

did it choose me because i was broken, or did it break me?

please bring him back to me.

you think you care about me?

this was always supposed to happen, wasn’t it?

i love you. if i can find you, i will. if not, stay alive.

if he’s gone i won’t be the same.

i’d watch your moral panic all day, it’s delightful.

in many ways you are my total opposite. but you are also my best friend.

i made a choice. this is my family.

i forgive you. but i cannot let you leave.

please. please. i love him as much as you do.

fix him. fix him!

i like this family. i’d like to keep it.

i want you to know that you are like a brother to me.

talk about my sister again.

it’s been a while since we’ve had one of our depressing chats!

i can’t have you gone. i need you here.

i think we’re very broken people. but i think together we’re much greater than the sum of our parts.

don’t ever fucking do that again.

you didn’t die. but you did! but you didn’t. but you did! and then you didn’t.

i don’t want any of this! i don’t want any of this.

i’ve just had a near death experience and i’m craving some lasagna. 

you know, you’re getting weirder.

you and i are very different.

i’ve killed two of those who’ve wronged me and nothing is better. nothing feels better. nothing is avenged.

call me “child” one more goddamn time!

if you’re lucky, you die last.

some people have no sense of fucking honor!

i’ll take my clothes off if it’ll inspire us.

thank you for believing in me.

you’ve never done anything for me! never! you’ve never risked anything, you don’t know me!

everyone else believes in you. why shouldn’t you?

how many fingers am i holding up?

what’s the first letter of the alphabet? this you know.

yay! teamwork!

you fucking died!

don’t touch me right now! i’m not - don’t touch me!

i’m going to go get a sandwich.

you had us all very worried.

your reckless impulses will get you killed!

i’m done with gods. they will not help me. perhaps you will. 

this is too fucking much.

come here, you shithead.

it has been an honor.

screw you! i want my final words with you to be indignant and irritated.

you’re the face i saw when murder entered my heart.

i’m undecided about you.

never forget you’re my favorite. and i’m so sorry.

i’m not leaving him.

you’re a better man than you believe.

feel like making a home here?

you’re an idiot and i’m very proud of you. don’t do that again.

sound off if you’re alive.

it’s not going to work.

[flawlessbeautyqueens]

Clara Paget photographed by Iakovos for Hello! Fashion Monthly (2019)

[frostwill]

XMARKSTHESCOTT.

PUSH AND PULL, that’s the nature of their relationship since utopia came crashing down. they’d pushed each other away, claimed that whatever they had just could no longer be, a conversation they’d only just had yet again. but they’re terrible at staying away from each other, like two magnets dragging to each other’s poles, they always find their way back here. they should know better by now, they’re not made to be apart. 

but the universe would try to say otherwise, first death casting its shadow over himself just as they’d begun to be reacquainted again. in the time before she’d been in his heart, on his team, and in his bed, but never once in his head. not until she erased herself from it months prior. maybe once upon a time he was angry, but it subsided as quickly as it came. how could he be mad when he was in her orbit once more? his second chance was a blessing, and he’s not naive enough to let that go quite so easily.

❛  i’m not the mind reader here, ms. frost. i’m just the guy who goes with his gut.  ❜  he teases, finding a genuine, hearty smile light up his face in response to her ribbing. god, he missed that dry wit. her hand is in his, and they’re here, now, starting a brand new…something together.  he knows her like the back of his hand, but even still doubt gets the better of him sometimes. he’ll take the leap, stomach in knots and heat rising from his body he’ll take the chance. each negative feeling pushed aside, he basks in the feeling of true, raw happiness, leaning in to kiss her for the first time in what felt like eons. 

it’s just like he remembers –better even. the smell of her dior perfume, the feeling of her lipstick that’s far more expensive than his entire outfit, how her hands fit perfectly in his…it’s bliss in its truest form. he almost doesn’t want to pull away but he does, hesitantly, pressing his forehead gently against hers to retain that closeness.  ❛  i know i haven’t been the most talkative guy since i got back, but i missed you. and i’m proud of everything you’ve been able to accomplish. taking on shaw, becoming the black king, saving me…all of it.  ❜

he’s  never  needed  PSYCHIC  GIFTS  of  his  own  to  know  what  she  was  thinking.     she’s  always  marveled  at  it,  that  elusive  skill  of  intuition,  and  her  mind  is  drawn  back   to  the  time  after  PHOENIX  FIRE  raced  through  their  bodies  and  scorched  the  land  behind  it   --   when  she  was  freed,  prison  truck  a  scorching  wreck   and  her  lover  at  magneto’s  side  before  her,  when  THAT  DAMNABLE  COLLAR  was  taken  from  around  her  neck  but  the  psychic  noise  of  the  world  did  not  return.     she  recalls  the  suffocating  silence,  and  how  BLINDED  she’d  felt,  fumbling  in  the  dark,  unable  to  discern  a  smile  from  a  smirk.     AND  HERE  HE  IS,  with  only  five  senses  to  speak  of,  and  still  he  knows  her  better  than  she  knows  herself.     

once  they  could  speak  in  code,  miles  of  meaning   swelling  beneath  the  smallest  sentences,  entirely  unnoticed  by  anyone  else  present.     A  PRIVATE  LANGUAGE.     it  is  the  most  remarkable  thing,  she  thinks,  to  SPEAK  and  to  be  HEARD.     to  stand  and  to  be  seen.     to  exist   and  to  be  known. 

but  for  all  she  waxes  poetic  on  the  TOTALITY  of  their  KNOWLEDGE  of  EACH  OTHER,  he  can  still  surprise  her ;   she  does  not  see  the  kiss  coming.     she  fails  to  fish  out   the  determined  intent  from  the  SEA  of  IMPULSE  AND  DOUBT,  not  from  so  remote  a  position  as  this,  perceiving  only  the  shape  of  the  waves  as  they  roll  and  nothing  of  the  depths  below.     surprise  stiffens  her,  but  ONLY  FOR  A  MOMENT   --   and  then  she  melts  against  him,  kissing  him  just  as  she  knows  he  likes   to  be  kissed,  open--mouthed  and  hungry. 

it  takes  EVERY  OUNCE  OF  WILLPOWER  she  possesses  not  to  submerge,  let  the  water  of  him  crash  around  her   and  swallow  her  up,  let  herself  fall  again  into  THAT  SAFETY,  THAT  WARMTH.     were  she  a  weaker  woman,  she  would  be  long  since  gone.     still,  she  sinks  her  teeth  into her  cheek,  to  steel  herself. 

his  praise  is  touching,  but  hardly  moving.     IT  AMOUNTED  TO  NOTHING,   she  thinks,  in  a  small  shielded  place  far  from  his  touch.     SHAW  BREATHES  beside  her.     her  long--deserved  title  stripped  away.     no  fate  she  protected  him  from  could  not  have  been  swiftly  undone   by  JEAN’S  RETURNING  HAND.     her  labor  again  bears  no  fruit   --   but  it  lingers  in  his  mind,  this  searing  pride.     that  could  be  fruit  enough. 

“ you  rather  missed  the  worst  bits. ”       PAINFUL  TRUTH,  as  always,  wrapped  in  tones  of  humor.     “ i  made ...   quite  a  few   mistakes.     trying  to  BE  for  our  people  WHAT  YOU  HAD  BEEN.     failing  spectacularly. ”

[xmarksthescott]

—prepared his whole life to lead an army by everyone he ever knew and trusted. and then it’s time to grow up and lead and –and it’s an awkward fit on him sometimes. he’s better at walking across that high wire than he knows. but he’s still scott. he still can’t help looking down and getting terrified. the difference between you and him is that he has to work so hard to keep together what simply falls into your lap fully formed. and the compassion that radiates out of the core of who scott summers is might as well be algebra to you.” // as loved by lia.

[frostwill]

XMARKSTHESCOTT.

her silence is like driving a stake through his heart, each second more painful than the last. it’s easy to wonder what she’s thinking, if she resents him for all the times he’s mentioned his ex, or for falling in love with him at all. he’s not an easy man to love, no matter how much he wishes it were different. each moment feels like an eternity, carrying more anxiety with it. but then she speaks, and he lifts his gaze back to hers with surprise written in every feature.

❛  that’s because i just listen to my heart.  ❜  on some level, he knows it’s cliche, but he doesn’t care. ❛  i love jean –i will always love her. but i’m not in love with her. someone else has the market covered on that front.  ❜ he’s far too ruled by the beat of his own heart, emotion taking control of the court where logic usually rules with an iron fist. he wishes this question wasn’t so hard to answer, wishes that his life wasn’t so complicated that there was an easy explanation for such an otherwise simple question. but his life was never that simple –and he’s lucky she accepted that a long time ago.

❛  so, let me ask you again, what would make you happier now than you’ve ever been before?  ❜ because he wants to make it happen, with blood, sweat, and tears he’ll make it happen if that’s what it takes. she’s always done the same for him, hasn’t she? even if it meant erasing his mind and living with the pain of knowledge on her end.  a hand raises to wipe a stray tear from her cheek, lingering on the touch for just a moment too long. but he almost doesn’t blame himself –it has been too long. no matter her answer, she deserves this break, they both do.

all  circles  of  rhetoric,  REGURGITATED  CHARMING  ADAGES,  roundabout  metaphors,  all  half  cooked.     he’s  always  like  this ;   she  only  forgets  sometimes,  accustomed  as  she  is  to  THE  SHORTCUTS  she  takes.     so  used  to  the  privilege  of  a  direct  line  from  his  thoughts  to  hers,  unfiltered  by  the  clumsy  complications  brought  by  WORDS,  WORDS,  WORDS,  the  imperfect  fumbling  of  his  tongue,  better  put  to  use  in  other  ways.     IT  WOULD  BE  SO  EASY  to  slip  soft  and  silent  back  into  the  paths  and  crevices  of  his  mind,  to  feel  in  its  purest  form   the  undiluted  truths  he  struggles  to  STUTTER  OUT,  to  wrap  her  presence  warmly  around  his  and  reassure  him,  as  she  always  has,  shh,  i  understand. 

SHE’D  LIKE  TO.     but  she  doesn’t  think  she  needs  to.     she  knows  him  well  enough. 

his  thumb  brushes  her  cheek,  catches  a  tear,  and  HIS  HAND  REMAINS,  trembling  nearly  imperceptibly   like  a  hummingbird’s  wing,  his  fingers  but  a  hair’s  breadth  from  cupping  her  face,  close  enough  to  SEND  A  CHILL  ACROSS  HER  SKIN.     she  lifts  her  own  hand,  and  with  its  heel   smudges  away  the  faint  tear  track,  erases  the  evidence  of  that  traitorous  bit  of  salt  water’s  escape   --   and  she  CATCHES  HIS  FINGERS  IN  HERS,  just  as  the  thought  to  pull  away  dances  over  the  surface  of  his  mind.     his  hands  are  softer  than  she  remembers ;   his  body  made  new   not  so  long  ago,  PULLED  UP  FROM  THE  DIRT  where  she’d  laid  him  down.

“ SCOTT, ”       she  says  slowly,  and  this  latest  invocation   of  his  beautiful  name  is  not  so  FALTERING  and  UNSURE  as  the  last.     there  is  certainty  now,  and  with  it  returns  her  smooth  and  cool  control,   the  fine  tuned  precision  with  which  her  voice  RISES  AND  FALLS.     seductive ?     not  quite.     but  alluring,  inviting.     OPEN,  as  only  he  opens  her.       “ my  time  is  quite  valuable.     you  oughtn’t  WASTE  IT,  asking  questions  you  know  the  answer  to. ”       AND  YOU  DO  KNOW,  she  sings  through  her  whole  mind,  she  paints  into  the  patterns  of  his  thoughts,  YOU  DO  KNOW.     you  know.

[frostwill]

XMARKSTHESCOTT.

THERE WAS A MOMENT everything seemed like it used to, maybe better even. they could pretend the last few years hadn’t happened. that they hadn’t broken up…that he hadn’t died…it was just the two of them, her hand fitting perfectly in his as the whole world melted into a backdrop behind them. but reality was never that kind; it ripped apart their quaint little dream with its cold, unforgiving hands. 

it’s a baby step really, but her recoil is enough to tell him even that was far too much. maybe it’s a realization of just how much he’s hurt her over the years. fear is something he’s seldom heard in her voice –he count the few times on his fingers. but to be the one who caused it in her? he feels shame boil up inside him. he did that, him and his choices.

brows furrow, dejection weighing heavy on his heart though he understands the apprehension. the scott and jean saga…it’s intimidating even for him. so, he moves his hand away, closer to himself than a midway between them. he wouldn’t try it again without her say so.  ❛  it’s funny, you used to say i brought up jean too much. but until a second ago she couldn’t have been farther from my mind.  ❜

there’s a silence that fills the air, one spent with him trying to find the right words for his thoughts. but there weren’t any. it was jean and that brought up thousands of different words all at once.  he sighs, fingers running through his messy brown locks. despite the visible signs of stress, his voice remains soft. ❛  what do you want me to say, emma? that she’s not special to me? that i’m not happy she’s alive? we have two kids and enough history to fill a novel i…she’s always going to be in my life. ❜ a beat. words, he’s still trying to find the words to explain.  ❛ once upon a time i would’ve hung the moon for jean grey if she asked but it just…wasn’t in the cards for us. we tried, we failed. ❜

she’s right, really. he couldn’t spend the rest of his life avoiding the “jean grey” question, no matter how tempting the idea was.  ❛  i chose you. i will always choose you. and maybe that’s on me if i never –if i never made you feel like i did or if i didn’t show you that enough. i’m sorry, emma because you never should’ve had to wonder in the first place.  ❜

at  first,  AS  HE  SPEAKS,  each  word  is  another  weight  on  her  heart,  each  blow  more  keenly  felt   than  the  last.     what  do  you  want  me  to  say,  emma   --   GOD,  wasn’t  that  always  his  mantra,  his  tired  refrain,  when  the  INIMITABLE  JEAN  GREY  found  her  way  up  from  her  grave  to  slink  back,  catlike,  into  their  relationship,  into  their  DISAGREEMENTS,  their  arguments,  into  their  uncertainties,  into  their  bed.     no,  found  her  way,  she  thinks,  is  TOO  PRESENT  A  PHRASE ;   it  would  suggest  she  had  ever  left.     what  do  you  want  me  to  say,  emma,  in  that  exasperated  tone,  and  then  she  would  feel  UNREASONABLE  and  JEALOUS  and  SMALL,  and  then  she  would  only  be  angrier  with  him,  for  making  her  feel  that  way.     he  never  meant  it  that  way.     he  ONLY  ASKED  because  HE  DIDN’T  KNOW. 

each  word  is  a  new  weight  in  her  chest,  and  then  HE  TURNS  IT  AROUND.     how  does  he  always  manage   to  turn  it  around ?

she’ll  call  it  the  events  of  the  evening  catching  up  with  her,  the  lingering  psychic  residue  of  so  many  minds,  so  many  EMOTIONS  RUNNING  HIGH,  and  hers  as  much  as  anyone’s.     she’ll  blame  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  her  weariness,  the  cheap  beer.     she’ll  find  whatever  SCAPEGOAT  she  requires,  to  disavow  the  stinging  in  her  eyes,  the  wetness  before  tears.  

HER  LIPS  PART,  and  stay  parted  for  a  long  silent  moment,  as  she  reminds  them  how  to  form  COHERENT  SOUND,  how  to  shape  any  word  but  his  name.       “ that ... ”       she  is  breathless.     SHE  FEELS  LIKE  LAUGHING.       “ ... is  exactly  what  i  wanted  you  to  say.     how  do  you  do  that ? ”

[frostwill]

XMARKSTHESCOTT·.

❛  i don’t think i can set it down. not really.  ❜ it’s an admission that carries a lot of weight in its own. he’s leading a team not a nation, but he’s been soldiering on so long he doesn’t know how to stop. he’d love to stop…but this is as close to his dream as he’ll ever get. so if even the smallest modicum of happiness is within his reach, why shouldn’t he hold on to it tightly with both hands? he could hold on to her. but would she let him?

he sets his beer can down on the lush, green grass, setting all thoughts about what malevolent means lie beneath their “paradise” aside with his drink. those thoughts will return soon enough, but the least he can do is practice what he preaches about taking that chance. is he selfish for taking advantage of a situation he knows can only crash and burn? he wants to think he isn’t… ❛  i’ve been doing this for so long, it almost feels wrong that i’m just doing less. funny isn’t it? paradise is in front of us and i’m still thinking about how i’m wrong for enjoying it.  ❜ his hand brushes against hers, fingers loosely wrapping around hers –enough for her to easily break away should want to. he’s hoping she doesn’t. ❛  sorry to say i’m still the same schmuck i was before, ms. frost.  ❜ he teases, smiling a little at his own joke. 

❛  but its like you said, it’s about time. for both of us. so, what would make your dreams come true right now, em? ❜  ruby gaze is fixated on her with a soft, sincere curiosity. she doesn’t let the past weigh her down in the exact same way he does, but it hits her all the same. two kindred spirits…that’s what they always were wasn’t it?

GOD  DAMN  HIM.     he  has  to  know  what  he’s  doing  to  her.     she  doesn’t  think   before  she  turns  her  hand,  loosely  laces  her  fingers  through  his   --   HER  BODY  ANSWERS  HIS  unbidden,  old  instinct.     what  would  make  your  dreams  come  true,   god,  HE’S  A  SAP,  and  in  another  time,  on  another  island,  she’d  have  mocked  him  mercilessly   for  it,  needled  him  until  she  drew  a  smile  to  his  lips,  drove  back  THAT  STOIC  SOLDIER’S  MASK  of  his,  and  privately  she’d  have  smiled,  too,  so  lucky,  so  beyond  lucky   to  be  beneficiary  of  his  old  romantic  heart,  and  all  the  poor  attempts  at  POETRY  therein. 

“ scott ... ”       there  is  so  much  contained  in  that  small  sound.     THIS  IS  NOT  UTOPIA.     they  are  not  so  young  as  they  were  once.     still  his  fingers  fit  in  hers ;   still  his  presence  stands  just  within  reach,  open  and  inviting,  SOFT  AND  PLIABLE.     she  could  ask  him  for  ANYTHING  now,  couldn’t  she ?     and  ISN’T  THIS  what  she  WANTS ? 

the  only  thing.     yes.     the  only  thing  she  wants.     she  imagines  the  PHANTOM  SHAPE  of  a  SMOOTH  RING  about  his  finger,  pressed  damningly  against  her  palm,  and  a  chill  shoots  through  her   --   and  she  lets  her  grip  slacken,  and  slips  her  hand  from  his. 

there  was  a  time  she  WOULDN’T  HAVE  CARED.     there  was  a  time  she  DIDN’T,  wine  in  a  hong  kong  hotel  room,  and  hunger,  for  heat,  for  his  body  moving  under  hers,  and  nothing  further  from  their  minds  than  JEAN  GREY.     she  had  fancied  herself  someone  who  took  what  she  wanted.     she  ought  to  TAKE  SOME  PRIDE  in  this,  herself,  her  growth,  that  she  is  not  so  wretched   as  she  once  was,  but  she  craves  her  old  selfishness. 

“ i’m  not  going  to  do  this  again. ”       she  meets  his  eyes  as  she  speaks,  and  folds  her  hands  together   in  her  lap,  interlaced,  so  that  if  one  should  GET  THE  FOOL  IDEA  of  reaching  out  to  touch  him  again,  the  other  might  keep  it  locked  in  place.       “ play  the  OTHER  WOMAN  to  the  GREAT  EPIC  of  scott  and  jean.     not  again. ”

[frostwill]

XMARKSTHESCOTT·.

UTOPIA was an impressive feat –for a while at least. somehow it was kept afloat despite constant invasions, predator x’s, and fleets of sentinels. he would have died with that island if the avengers hadn’t stormed the beaches. it had thrived for a while but by the end, it was just empty. his teammates had declared him an unfit leader, the avengers branded him a monster. and after a while, he believed it too. utopia was a victim of his hubris. ❛  and then it was nothing. reduced to rubble.  ❜ 

but he won’t dwell on the past, not when a new future is literally dawning before them. it’s got a pretty surface, but he’s not naive enough to suspect there’s nothing sinister lurking below the facade. his experience taught him that much. maybe it’s only so long until the floor caves out beneath them and his suspicions are proven correct, but for once, he doesn’t want to be right. 

❛ i saw john proudstar for the first time in 20 years today. ❜ he finally confesses, eyes locked onto the skyline as the sun begins to peer out from the clouds. ❛  he was the first teammate i ever buried. back then, i swore i’d never do it again. and for a while, it seemed like burying teammates was all we were doing. but i saw john proudstar. i saw all the faces of people i had let down over the years and they’re alive. they’re smiling, having fun, doing everything they never got the chance to do.  ❜ his fingers pick at the tab on the aluminum can, thinking back to each of those faces. john. jamie. sean. alex. laurie. all of them. 

it’s not them –not really. deep down he knows that, but it’s as close to the life they deserved to live as they’ll ever get. should he really be second guessing that gift? ❛  maybe it’s time i try and do the same for myself.  ❜

that’s  A  NAME  SHE  KNOWS.     john  proudstar  himself   was  before  her  time,  yes,  but  his  brother   was  one  of  hers.     stood  with  HER  HELLIONS,  for  a  time,  as  she  stoked  his  rage  into  a  roaring  fire,  fed  him  bits  of  kindling  day  by  day.     she  thinks  of  JAMES  in  the  same  thought  as  ANGELICA  JONES,  her  students  who  she  cannot  say  she  tried  her  best  to  do  right  by.     her  students  WHO  ESCAPED  FROM  HER  in  time. 

IS  A  FAILURE  STILL  A  FAILURE  after  it’s  been  rectified ?     it  was  only  hours  ago  that  she  held  everett  to  her  chest,  her  eyes  stinging  and  her  throat  too  tight.     he  is  today  AS  YOUNG  as  THE  DAY  HE  DIED,  all  full  up  of  the  future,  as  children  always  are.     it’s  become  difficult  now  to  recall  the  ashen  tone   of  his  charred  and  cold  skin  under  the  rubble ;   where  the  color  had  once  been  COMMITTED  TO  HER  MIND,  she  finds  it  swallowed  up  now  by  the  warm  brown  of  his  life.     was  she  WRONG  to  BEG  FORGIVENESS  of  him ;   was  he  RIGHT  to  take  her  hands  and  tell  her  there  was  NOTHING  TO  FORGIVE ?     if  a  sin  is  uncommitted,  are  you  less  the  sinner   for  it ? 

that  which  burdened  her  is  lifted,  gone,  less  than  air  now.     still,  SHE  CAN’T  YET  SAY  whether  its  WEIGHT  HAS  LESSENED.     he  finds  himself,  she suspects,  in  quite  the  same  position.

“ well,  I’D  SAY  IT’S  ABOUT  TIME,  darling,  but  you  seem  rather  pensive,  and  not  in  the  mood  to  be  teased. ”       she  sets  her  chin  atop  her  knuckles,  her  elbow  propped  on  her  crossed  knees.     her  beer  sits  forgotten  in  the  grass  beside  her.     WOULD  HE  PULL  AWAY,  if  she  touched  him,  took  his  hand ?     a  desperate  desire  for  A  GREATER  CLOSENESS  THAN  THIS  coils  in  her  stomach. 

there’s  still  tension  in  his  shoulders,  in  the  psychic  shape  of  him  she  CANNOT  HELP  but  perceive.       “ you  know  we  would  NEVER  have  MADE  IT  HERE   without  you. ”       she  said  it  once,  didn’t  she ?     every  mutant  on  earth  is  going  to  owe  scott  summers  their  lives.     “ biblically  speaking,  if  KRAKOA  is  the  PROMISED  LAND  of  MILK  AND  HONEY,  it  wasn’t  charles  xavier  who  saw  us  through  the  desert.     you  carried  that  weight  longer  than  anyone,  when  it  was  heavier  than  it’s  ever  been.     no  one  could  fault  you  for  SETTING  IT  DOWN  now. ”

[frostwill]

XMARKSTHESCOTT.

it’s weird not being completely in charge, to not have to make decisions for the fate of an entire race. all that pressure placed squarely on his shoulders…before it almost broke him but it was the job, it had to be done. and just as always, he soldiered on, letting the weight of that burden crush him. had it not been for her, he might have collapsed under its weight, suffocating in the blackness of abyss. but utopia fell in a cataclysmic cacophony of destruction –brought down by his own hand though not by his own will. 

❛  you all did what i could never accomplish. ❜  but he’s not bitter about it. after all, he’s far from a glory hound. whatever gets the job done, that’s what he’s always known. in some ways, it’s all he still knows. any suspicion or unease he has has been stifled, hidden under a mask of duty-bound stoicism. ❛  all flattery is well deserved, believe me.  ❜ 

there’s a release of tension that he hasn’t felt in a long time, a lightness he’s unfamiliar with. for a moment he thinks he could be happy –that he should.  it’s not the life he imagined but maybe it’s a chance. ❛  so, now that you’ve done the impossible, what happens next? ❜ 

WHAT  HAPPENS  NEXT ?     next  she  accustoms  herself  to  this  new  world  of  theirs.     next  she  swallows  her  fear  at  the  sight  of  the  sea.     next  she  bites  her  tongue  until  it  bleeds  when  sebastian  places  his  HATED  HAND  too  low  on  her  waist,  feels  the  stifling  psychic  stranglehold  of  XAVIER’S  EYES  on  her,  asks  herself  how  long   he  will  hold  her  first  failure  over  her  head  to  ensure  her  complacency,  how  long  until  she  HOLDS  LITTLE  MARIE-ANGE  in  her  arms,  until  her  mother’s  hands  fondly  smooth  back  SHARON’S  LOVELY  PURPLE  HAIR.     he  doesn’t  want  to  hear  that.     could  she  muster  an  appropriately  irreverent   --   today  krakoa,  tomorrow  the  world ?     TO  FOOL  ANYONE,  surely,  but  to  fool  him ?

“ don’t  tell  me  you’re  SELLING  YOURSELF  SHORT  now. ”       best  to  dodge  the  question  entirely,  she  thinks.       “ scott,  utopia  was  a  triumph  against  odds.     you  saw  OUR  PEOPLE  through  the  darkest  time  we’ve  known.     xavier,  as  far  as  i’ve  seen,  has  had  every  advantage,  and  all  he’s  done  is  START.     starting  is  easy.     you  and  i  ought  to  know  the  difficulty  comes  in  SOLDIERING  ONWARD     no  one  soldiers  onward  quite  like  you ”

[frostwill]

why are we still here? just to thread with lia?

[frostwill]

XMARKSTHESCOTT·.

❛  for us or for mutantkind? ❜ genosha, utopia…both ended in disaster but maybe it was time something didn’t. maybe it was time they finally found peace again too, burying the demons that burrowed their way into their hearts. ❛  —or maybe for both. ❜  nonetheless, he tilts his can to hers, the dull clunk of aluminum filling the momentary silence. he wants nothing more than to buy into the idea that this is the new normal, that everything is finally perfect as it should be. perhaps he’s too cynical to ever do so fully, but she’s always had a way of making him believe

❛  you shouldn’t sound so surprised by the way. you’ve always defied the odds. ❜ maybe more than anyone he’s ever known. her entire existence was seeped in the idea of survival and knowing that she can when the world said otherwise. in a way, now she’s found a way to do it for all of mutantkind.

for a moment, he feels like he could get lost in the moment; the two of them by dawn break, watching as a new era rises before them. it’s a new beginning —it’s peace. ❛  all those years spent and i wasn’t the one to make it happen. maybe i never could. but when all those people were out here celebrating, they were celebrating because of you. you’re a force of nature, emma frost and i don’t think a day will go by where i’m not in awe of you. ❜

GENOSHA.     UTOPIA.     i  look  at  my  life  and  all  i  see  is  the  same  tragedy  endlessly  repeating.     she’s  sure  he  remembers  as  well  as  she  does  the  misgivings  she  harbored  when  they  first  lifted  the  old  asteroid  from  the  bay,  how  badly  she  wanted  to  RETURN  TO  THE  MAINLAND,  the  relative  safety  of  san  francisco   --   scott,  not  another  island,  please   --   san  francisco,  where  the  THICK  SWARMS  of  HUMAN  SHIELDS,  genetically  inoffensive  collateral  damage,  might  dissuade  the  next  madman  who  thinks  to  send  SENTINELS  crashing  through  their  sanctuary. 

SHE  USED  TO  LOOK  OUT  over  their  rocky  beaches,  her  arms  wrapped  around  herself,  and  see  silhouetted  against  the  pacific  sun  that  great  hulking  shape,  the  beast  of  genosha.     HOW  LONG  WAS  IT,  before  she  finally  felt  safe  surrounded  by  sea  again ?     she’s  sure  she  did  BY  THE  END,  but  it’s  hard  to  recall  the  feeling.     and  here  they  are  again. 

“ loathe  as  i  am  to  admit  it,  very  little  of  the  CREDIT  belongs  to  me  this  time  around. ”       what  has  she  done ?     DEALT  WITH  THE  DEVIL,  again.     she’s  been  here  before.     she  takes  a  swig  of  beer   --   for  us,  or  mutantkind ?     genosha,  utopia.     phoenix  fire  and  terrigen  mist.       “ but  please,  continue  flattering  me. ”

[frostwill]

XMARKSTHESCOTT.

beer has always tasted dry and bitter on his tongue but the haze was almost cathartic. a bittersweet feeling for a bittersweet moment. there’s joy, reunited families, faces of friends he hasn’t seen in years. and yet, he can’t quite find it in him to celebrate with them. it’s not right, but when he’s sitting next to her, he almost feels like it could be. there was nothing she wanted more than her students to be avenged and now, they’ve returned. there’s an innocence to her smile he hasn’t seen in a long time, one that’s unburdened. for a moment, he thinks he’d move heaven and earth to keep krakoa around just to keep that smile in tact.

❛  maybe. i’ve always been too pragmatic for parties. but you’d be one of the only people who knows this is me when i’m happy. ❜ he jokes although there’s a hefty kernel of truth beneath that statement. is he happy? he wants to be. ❛  it pales in comparison to mine. ❜ he remarks regarding the view. krakoa was breathtaking but so was the sight of her in such a state of content. she deserves this, she’s earned this. ❛  i truly am happy for you, emma. to have your girls back, your students…i shouldn’t be surprised that you found a way to make the impossible happen. ❜ 

THE  TENDERNESS  of  his  intent  carries  clear  as  a  bell  across  the  space  between  their  minds,  and  with  the  weight  of  his  warm  red  stare  on  her  lips  she  THINKS  FOR  A  MOMENT  that  KRAKOA  could  sink  into  the  ocean  and  she  would  feel  no  great  sense  of  loss   --   that  this  is  enough,  that  she  could  LIVE  HAPPILY  on  this  alone   --   and  it  isn’t  true,  of  course.     genosha’s  shadow  still  hangs  heavy,  and  she  is  greedy   and  unreasonable   and  ever  unsatisfied,  and  there  ought  to  be  NO  SPACE  between  their  minds  at  all   -- 

she  is,  for  the  briefest  of  seconds,  possessed  by  the  MAD  URGE  to  lace  her  fingers  daintily  through  his.     he  speaks  again,     i  truly  am  happy  for  you,     and  SHE  WILL  NEVER  KNOW  if  she  would  have.

“ i  have,  haven’t  i ? ”       SHE  HASN’T.     her  smile  remains,  fixed  on  her  lips,  but  his  praise  settles  a  weight  in  her  chest ;   she  wills  it  away,  and  with  it  the  DARK  SPECTERS  of  sebastian,  of  XAVIER.     he  knows  her  too  well.     he’ll  notice,  if  she  starts  to  brood,  and  she  doesn’t  want  his  concern.     SHE  WANTS  TO  LIVE  IN  THIS,  his  gentle  pride.     she  lifts  her  can  to  him,  as  if  to  toast.       “ what  do  you  think,  scott ?     THIRD  TIME’S  THE  CHARM ? ”

[frostwill]

XMARKSTHESCOTT.

THE ROAR OF CELEBRATION had long since died down, a once bustling “paradise” now dimmed and barren. he’s always been the last to leave, never quite able to immerse himself in social experiences fully ( although this one more than most ). the air of discomfort waned as he caught sight of the one person he’d been eyeing all night, a tender smile etching its way into his features. 

❛  so, how does it feel to be on top of the world, ms. frost? ❜ he inquires, taking the seat next to her and offering her the only other remaining drink from his six pack. // @frostwill·

oh,  DAMN  HER  COMPOSURE   --   but  she  lives  for  that  smile.     he’s  greeted  with  one  in  return,  an  uncharacteristically  warm  curve  of  her  cold  lips  as  she  takes  the  proffered  can.     BEER  is  no  FAVORITE  of  hers,  but  she  is  far  too  shrewd   a  businesswoman  to  fail  to  recognize  an  OLIVE  BRANCH.

the  warm  fog   that  envelops  her  is  only  one--quarter  alcoholic ;   another  quarter  simple  psychic  noise,  the  general  HAZE  OF  LIFE,  the  many  mutant  minds  around  them  and  the  one  great  mind  they  stand  on ;   and  all  the  rest  is  LOVE,  love  of  her  children  as  she’d  gathered  angelo  and  everett  into  her  LONG--AWAITING  arms,  love  of  the  presence  of  her  daughters  at  the  edge  of  her  thoughts,  made  whole  at  last,  love  of  the  family  from  whose  ranks  she  had  been  SO  LONG  EXILED,  logan,  kurt,  ororo,  yes,  even  katherine   --   yes,  even  jean.     LOVE  OF  A  MAN.     she  pops  the  tab,  and  looks  out  across  their  green  domain. 

“ wouldn’t  you  know,  darling, ”       SHE  BEGINS,       “ i  haven’t  decided.     but  the  view  is  magnificent. ”

[dailyjuliannehough]

[frostwill]

XMARKSTHESCOTT.

the last year is an open wound, a scar that heals over. losing his sanity, that was one scar. it’s nestled in the back of his mind, the not-so-quiet reminder that rears its head every time he tries to sleep. he supposes it’s true what they say, that there’s no sleep for the guilty. so maybe that’s why emma’s the only other person awake right now. 

he hesitates in his step once he sees her, but the floorboards creek under his step, giving away his presence immediately. it’s another scar; it isn’t healed but it doesn’t hurt quite so bad anymore when he looks at her. 

❛ hey… ❜ the timid nature of his voice feels unfitting, further proof of the mountainous gap between them. when did uncertainty become a part of their dynamic? ❛ i uh –take it you can’t sleep either. ❜  // @frostwill

IT’S  TAKEN  TIME  to  retrofit  any  part  of  the  old  WEAPON  X   facility  into  livable  space   --   time,  her  impeccable  design  sense,  excessive  use  of  her  black  card,  nearly  UNJUSTIFIABLE  sums  of  HUSH  MONEY  paid  to  contractors   ( rendered  ultimately  wasted,  as  now  that  her  powers  have  returned  she  has,  of  course,  gone  back  and  cleanly  WIPED  AWAY  THEIR  MEMORIES )   --  but  she’s  managed.     she’d  be  LYING,  to  say  it’s  AS  GOOD  A  PLACE  AS  ANY  to  drink  and  reminisce,  as  good  a  place  as  any  to  do  anything,  but  it’s  the  place  she  has,  and  she  is  learning  how  to  survive  on  GOOD  ENOUGH. 

she  KNOWS  HE’S  THERE  long  before  she  hears  his  footfalls  on  the  old  wood,  the  currents  of  his  mind  and  his  movement  through  the  halls,  HIS  RESTLESS  TURNING.     it  takes  incredible  will  not  to  let  her  own  mind   trace  out  familiar  paths,  motions  to  soothe   --   HIS  MIND,  so  close,  and  yet  so  inaccessible  to  her.       ” NO,  scott. ”       her  glass  is  only  half  full  now,  sides  tinted  red  from  wine.     she  twirls  the  stem   between  her  fingers.       “ i’m  TUCKED  AWAY  nice  and  tight  in  bed,  having  wonderful,  INDULGENT,  GUILTLESS  dreams.     you’re  seeing  things. ” 

[frostwill]

XMARKSTHESCOTT.

IT’S A PECULIAR THING, to be cared for the way she cares for him and not remember it. he’s used to the pining, the silent declarations of love behind closed doors, the doubt and denial. he can only empathize with the torture. how much must it hurt her every time he looks at her or speaks her name with such unfamiliarity? to know that no matter how far he reaches into the depths of his soul, she’s ultimately a stranger to him? it hurts him too, knowing that this was something she never wanted. he’ll set it right for her, he tells himself. 

there’s a tenderness to this closeness, near enough that each shaky breath he lets out ghosts against her skin. he wonders if she could hear his heart beating against his chest with the rigor of a drum, how it calms when she laces her fingers with his. such a secret being lifted off her chest was enough to quell some of the storm for him, already attempting to devise some possible courses of action for how to proceed. he’s a leader by nature, but this is her fight; he’ll let her steer while he plays back up. 

it’s the second half of what she says that really sticks.

perhaps there’s some latent irony to it all; he’s been beating himself up trying to fix the x-men when she’s been running the show all along. that admission unsettles him a little, to know that he has an entirely new enemy out there and he never knew it. he’d be leading even more of his team to their deaths and he’d have been none the wiser. a terrifying thought when they’ve already lost so much. no more dead x-men was never a promise he could keep. amidst that realization, he tenses a little, brows furrowing. 

❛ how much of what i’ve been doing…has been my own doing? ❜ CONTROL, it’s the one thing he’s never had and the one thing he craves most. for a while self control was the only semblance of the word he’d known but now, it appeared even that was up in the air. ❛ we have to change it, emma. ❜ ah how naive he was mere months ago with declarations to ‘set it right’. it was never quite so easy –and his conscience would never be clean. ❛ turn me in. we’ve lost so many people…rahne –oh god, rahne. you have to turn me in, emma i can’t be their weapon. ❜ he pauses, giving himself time to let it all sink in. ❛ if you turn me in, will they spare my team? ❜

FOR  ALL  THAT  THE  WORLD  HAS  WORN  HIM  DOWN,  her  lover  has  always  been  an  optimist.     he  clings  to  hope   like  a  drowning  man   tears  his  palms  open  on  a  rescue  rope ;   like  a  hanging  man   scrabbles  at  the  noose  around  his  neck.     he  treats  TOMORROW  like  something  he  can  PULL  ASHORE  with  his  own  rough  hands,  tensed  fingers  and  white  knuckles,  heels  dug  in  the  sand.

it  rears  its  head  in  STRANGE  and  WRETCHED  WAYS  sometimes,  his  fervent  faith,  she  thinks.     it  rears  its  head  in  harsh  and  horrid  ways.     HIS  BREATH  STOPPED,  body  set  adrift  in  space,  or  KITTY’S  SMALL  HAND  stilled  inside  his  chest,  or  LUNGFULS  OF  TERRIGEN  MIST.     what  is  sacrificing  oneself   if  not  an  act  of  desperate  hope ? 

                           TAKE  ME,     cries  out  the  boy  who  lives  inside  him  still.     TAKE  ME  AND  LEAVE  THE  REST.

for  all  her  vicious  abilities,  she  has  never  possessed  THIS  PARTICULAR  CAPACITY,  to  find  a  way  out  over  her  own  dead  body.     if  she  could  by  her  own  blood  mend  what  is  broken,  WHAT  SHE  HAS  BROKEN,  if  her  death  could  stop  the  o.n.e.  and  their  ilk  in  their  tracks   --   YES,  GOD,  YES,  in  a  heartbeat,  less,  but  it  wouldn’t.     without  her  the  world  continues  to  turn.     without  her  mutant  children  continue  to  die.     and  yes,  WITH  HER,  more  often  than  not,  they  continue  to  die  all  the  same.     and  yes,  IN  THE  QUITE  MOMENTS,  her  heart  aches  to  join  them.     most  nights  she  STARES  UP  at  the  shape  of  death  in  her  vaulted  ceiling  and  thinks  only   --     WHAT  GOOD  WOULD  THAT  DO ?    

a  long  time  ago,  she  might  have  ANSWERED  THAT  QUESTION  DIFFERENTLY.     might’ve  thought,  well,  A  GREAT  DEAL,  actually.     dead  she  can  do  no  more  evil.     but  she  has  come  so  far  from  that,  CHOSEN  to  be  MORE  THAN  THAT,  and  dead  she  can  do  no  more  good.     scott  doesn’t  do  that  sort  of  math,   doesn’t  see  the  matter  of  his  life  in  that  light.     NOBILITY  is  blinding  that  way. 

his  reaction  is  UTTERLY  PREDICTABLE.     she  knows  him  far  too  well  to  pretend  otherwise.     still,  as  he  speaks,  panic  silences  her,  CHOKES  OFF  HER  THROAT.     her  fingers  clench  around  his  as  her  heart  clenches  in  her  chest.       “ scott   --   NO. ”       a  less  than  eloquent  reply,  certainly  below  her  usual  standard,  but  the  URGENCY  that’s  GRIPPED  HER  says  she  cannot  spare  the  precious  moments  she  might  like  to  take  to  find  the  proper  words.       “ GOD,  no,  they  won’t  spare --   why  on  EARTH  would  they  do  THAT ? “ 

she  grabs  his  other  hand,  grips  them  both  with  all  her  strength,  as  though  she  might  ANCHOR  HIM  THERE  as  simply  as  that.       “ they’ll  kill  you.     or  WORSE.     and  we’ll  be  no  better  off   --   the  opposite,  really,  as  we’d  have  lost  you.     we  cannot  --   WE  CANNOT  afford  to  lose  you. ”