𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘴.

in this house of corpses, it is a beautiful thing to chase life. to follow the golden path, where everything that grows is green and promise-scented. throw away what makes you heavy, to be a mutant isn't to be alone but to be a part of a family that burns the brightest. bonds forged in blood and battle are immortal. be careful with that anger, it will make you forget you're lucky. a chill runs down scott's spine; there is more to this world than destruction, you just have to look for it. hatred wishes to devour but they must wield hope's sword and never lose sight of the dream. the dream he and charles see when they smile up at the sky.

"i knew you were hurting but i didn't know you were looking at your grave."

the knife twists, their pain shared. “we've been through so much together and i guess i started assuming you'd always be fine.” a reminder that xavier isn't untouchable. he's flawed, security demolished, dashing through this ruin in search of something softer.

steps are taken in his direction.  which  was  always  her;  forever  moving  closer  to  the  mistakes  people  whisper  about.  she  can’t  stop.  he’s  been  an  instinct  from  the  moment  they  locked  eyes.  we  could  be  okay  if  you  give  in,  if  you  forgive  the  wronging  you’ve  suffered.  even  in  the  cut  of  his  words,  peyton  can  take  the  truth  of  them  and  work.  her  strength  is  often  a  bottomless  well  others  like  to  test;  dropping  pain  like  heavy  rocks  into  her  soul.    “    so  what,  is  this  you  giving  up?  you’re  not  weak.    ”    if  he  needs  a  push  back  towards  the  greatness  she’d  fallen  for,  peyton  can  crack  the  whip;  she’ll  torch  him,  setting  the  fire  beneath  julian  that  he  once  felt  for  her.

and  then  the  blonde  is  beside  him,  heat  radiating  from  her  own  anger.  it  flicks  a  flame  like  a  warning.    “    make  it  purposeful.    ”    chocolate  hues  come  to  settle  on  the  hellion,  passion  fighting  to  reach  him.  a  hand  guides  his  face,  fingers  taking  hold  of  his  jaw.  she  doesn’t  care  if  it  burns.    “    i  won’t  spend  my  life  with  a  ghost.    ”

maybe she can handle his fire, she’s made of it, eternally molten, but peyton shouldn’t have to stand at his side for this downfall. there’s no greater desire than to be in her orbit but the foul guilt burrows deeper with every honeyed word, every tired but oh so genuine smile. they could’ve made the world sing their names but the swamp calls to him. darkest wetland, mud stuck to more than boots. DO YOU LIKE WHAT COVERS YOU NOW? he’s a phantom to her, a sliver of his former glory, and what’s maddening is how heavy in truth it all is. 

         “you know that feeling... when you know there’s no going back?” 

he hangs his head for a moment before finding her in the chaos once more, appreciating the softness of her cheeks and the love in her eyes. eager to help, to bandage him... she’ll be a hero some day. “blindly playing rescue and being the only one to lose something - i’m not that guy anymore. i don’t want to be.” after the battle, they all came home with cuts and bruises: a part of julian remains in the waste, bonded with dead earth. WILL YOU STILL TRY TO FIND ME WHEN I DESTROY US?

the hour is at hand. security cameras have been masterfully evaded, tripwires left in the dust, lost in the path of their magic because this is sandbox play. the pair stand in one of the most fortified museums in the country and have reached the prize: one, last maze of infrared to navigate before they can leap into the night. another relic kept from monstrous hands. "eh?" he glances back at his hurricane of a companion and his expression falls. those deep, burning eyes are wounded — WHY DO THEY ALWAYS GOT TO PLAY WITH GAMBIT’S HEART?

@xgened​  ,    jamie madrox thinks hallie anders is pretty NEAT

hallie can’t help but wonder if it’s because she’s sleeping with him.  cue a wink and her shit-eating grin.

rictor and wolfsbane have already hit the streets, following up on a lead, and jamie doesn’t see the harm in pulling hal closer by the waist. what’s another minute of stalling? “i’ve been thinking...“

"my family's farm," he begins wistfully. his father is raking stones from the grass back onto the gravel path and the beginnings of a late july sunset cover the log home like a painting. BENEATH THE ANIMAL, THERE'S AN APPETITE FOR TENDERNESS, HIS ONLY WISH FROM THE BOTTLE TO REMEMBER THE LOVE OF A MOTHER'S TOUCH. a star dies as jamie sees her now: running out from the only home he's ever known with an apron around the waist, a kiss to her husband's neck from behind as she tells him the steak sandwiches are ready. with a shake of his head, jamie pushes through the fog and turns wildly to face david. enough with vile ghosts.

"is this you? are you doing this?"

a crack in the universe has led to this moment: two men of ice and one beast. they're gathered in hank's lab, bobby's eyes wild with bewilderment, new stories unfolding beneath fluorescent light. IF YOU COULD TALK TO YOUR FUTURE SELF, WHAT WOULD YOU SAY? a common question but always the wrong answer. there's nothing to give but silence as bobby circles an alternate version of himself, darker at the edges, an ardent gaze and a streak of blue in his hair. maybe he's weightless, shrouded by nothing, a bird in a city of birds who don't use their wings.

"oh, i'm sorry. i wasn't expecting to run into my doppelganger." he rubs the back of his thumb against his forehead. "he... he has tattoos!"

"you should see my boyfriend."

"—and he's in a relationship. awesome." tonight's the night to make a nest in some blankets and listen to songs about boys you've never had.

he’s been like this for months,  withdrawing  from  her  more  and  more  every  day.  for  a  while  peyton  gave  him  space,  support,  patience  she  wasn’t  known  for.  but  it  was  time  for  a  change.  otherwise  they  were  at  risk  of  failure.  chocolate  hues  narrow,  arms  crossing  in  defense  at  julian’s  brashness.  there’s  recoil  in  her  stance.  where  was  the  fairness  in  any  of  this?  in  his  pain,  the  misfortune,  in  her  having  to  bear  the  brunt  of  his  anger.  she’s  had  about  enough.  it  was  one  thing  to  be  upset,  to  be  bitter,  but  another  to  make  it  as  if  she  was  making  everything  worse  when  she  had  spent  so  much  time  trying  to  make  things  better.    

“    if  you  have  something  you  want  to  say  then  just  say  it.    ”    because  surely  there  was  truth  to  his  statement  already.  the  difference  is  that  if  he’s  entirely  sick  of  her  then  he  should  let  her  go.  there  was  no  sense  in  fighting  for  something  he  didn’t  want  to  save  in  the  first  place.    “    because  this  whole  asshole  thing  you’ve  got  going  on  now?  i’m  over  it,  julian.    ”

cruel indifference is a remedy for his wounds. DO YOU REMEMBER WHAT YOU'RE HEALING? they used to shimmer once. peyton the warming sun in free fields, orchids blooming in their garden, a man made royalty in these halls, but maybe kings are always meant to fall. this workspace is a prison. he's chained here, only remembering when the world tasted sweet, desperate to build a castle in the past. “go find cyclops if you want someone to hold your hand and tell you it's all going to be okay.” he doesn't understand how they do it. they've pressed on, polished and clean. bring out the silverware kept in that antique cabinet, they say, let’s sit down like a family. “because it's not, alright? nothing is the same.” words are daggers, crowns are cracked and bloodied. we're a long way from paradise. julian is still burning but he has left peyton charred, too. he sighs, deflating as metal fingers grip the edges of the table, voice softened yet heavy. A CONFESSION: 

cracked stone and the bitter ashes of war. these halls are long abandoned; the mansion that lifted him from despair, the family that put a hand on his shoulder and watched him grow so tenderly. every slow, cautious step echoes to the ends of time, and he looks beyond in both wonder and horror. it all feels so real… until another voice touches his ears——WHERE ARE WE?——and sends him crashing back down to the present, a cruel spell splintered because this, all of this, is just a game. “it’s an illusion. nightdust is probably trying to create too many of them at once and he can’t hold them all. that’s why you bled into mine.” his fingers glitter, turning glacial, and the temperature in the room swirls and drops as he moves to stand in front of jack. bobby remembers the first time they met. that sweet, autumn afternoon. a yellowed leaf falling from a tree as two new mutants found their doorstep. “if we just chill out for a minute, the overload to our senses should knock us out of this. theoretically. see? i can come up with the plans sometimes.” he grins, all too aware of his use of yet another pun. 

the sun is shining but it’s black as night. lately, all he does is bolt. barefoot through the woods, howling, birch branches carving into his forearm. we’re not born with reasons to keep running, people give them to you in flame, and the wolf already caught me, you know. i asked him to show no mercy. ‘peyton,’ he grumbles, reluctant in the way his eyes slip shut, another golden surprise over the horizon — it all comes back faster now, once beautiful paintings now burned, and he pulls his hands metal gloves back before she can drag him somewhere. the memories crackle and flash in his mind, lightning to flesh, and now he’s nothing but bruised. ‘no, this is stupid.’ those eyes snap back open and he turns back to the table he’s been hovering over since dawn.