emma.

sam remained silent for a moment, a bit embarrassed by his outburst a minute ago. it went against every cell in his body to forgive someone like emma frost - but he couldn’t help the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that this was genuine. that she seriously meant it.

“you know people are afraid of you, right?” he chose a different approach, “ - of what you can do. is that seriously what you want? because if so, frankly - that’s sad. and i’m sorry.”

“Woah, lemme stop you right there—” Val interrupted the person who was speaking to her, holding a free hand out while simultaneously taking a bite from the jerky she was snacking on. “I highly doubt my parents or the Fantastic Four want anything to do with this mess.”

“I think we’re way past hugging it out at this point. The Inhumans are pissed.”

“Seeing possible futures is not as fun as people like to think it is. Until you experience it yourself.. it is difficult to truly explain.”

“If you’re about to ask me about Tony, I have no comment.”

“..was I supposed to be listening? If you haven’t noticed, there are more important things currently keeping me occupied.”

“—it’s harder to stay away from this time than I thought it would be, alright? If you could see where and when I grew up, I don’t think you’d blame me for wanting to come back.”

“If yer’ lookin for Sam or Paige, you’ve got the wrong Guthrie. Is there somethin’ I can help you with?”

“There’s been a lot going on. Been busy. If you’ve got something to say, spit it out.”

“No, sorry. I actually uh, missed out on the second half of the Gala. And the after party.” And the next couple days after that as the Quiet Council and the Five ultimately decided to resurrect her.

Medusa tried not to let herself get too irritated by Emma’s presence, but her patience was wearing thin. Of course she wanted to put their differences aside, but it was more complicated than that. There was a lot of history. Horrible, tense history. It took time to get over. But she was going to try, for the sake of her people. “That’s obviously something that we’d be open to discussing.”

“You’re not tied down to anyone?” Cassie asked curiously, not even sure if Emma would indulge in the gossip. The two may have gotten off on the wrong foot, but she felt like the mutant didn’t completely hate her. She hoped so, at least.

“I think you’re way more capable of avoiding an explosive arrow than I am.” Clint shrugged, playfully raising his eyebrows at Emma. “Can’t you telepathically see which arrows they are? Is that how that works?”

“What could the White Queen possibly want with little ol’ me?”

For the children. All for the bloody, goddamn children. Emma Frost was not -- and this would come to the great surprise of many -- a heartless being. She cared so much it had driven her to do terrible things. Perhaps her priorities were skewed; once Emma had one set there was very little that could be done to detour her. Had she not become the Phoenix in a misguided attempt to try and make the world better? Uncouth at times, Emma got the damn job done. That’s what infuriated her. She likely would have bought into Krakoa if they had told her the truth instead of the pretty, packaged lie that was manufactured and served to the masses. Krakoa, the gleaming testament of mutant achievement. Krakoa, the goddamn lie.

“you know, hanging out with me means you’ll probably see your own face plastered all over tomorrow’s tabloids. kinda just an occupational hazard at this point.”