#before it felt the strongest mind in the cosmos SCREAM for someone to save her family and answered

[words-writ-in-starlight]

JEAN/SCOTT FOR THE MEME PLEASE. if i'm allowed to send multiple i WILL be asking about other fandoms later but like. I LOVE THE KIDS.

The kids!!!!!!  This turned into kind of the Jean hour.  Please enjoy this puree of Comics I Enjoy, ft exactly nothing from the comics of the last twenty to thirty years.

Headcanon

This is actually straight up comic canon, but I love it so much that I have to expand on it a little.  In that...niche, that plateau, when Jean is Phoenix but hasn’t quite tipped over the event horizon of power, she becomes the only person who’s seen Scott’s eyes since he first gained his powers.  She’s never quite clear on what she’s doing, she doesn’t know and has an alarming thought that she might be in his brain far more literally than usual, but he smiles at her thoughtlessly.  Jean can feel that he’s a little dazed by the experience, he touches her face with poorly-concealed wonder, and then his hand lands in his hair and he says in delight, “Your hair actually is this color!”

“Of course it is,” Jean laughs, halfway to sitting in his lap with his glasses dangling from one hand.  “What, did you think ‘redhead’ was metaphorical?”

Scott flushes a little at the teasing, but he still has a lock of her hair between his fingers, turning it in the sunlight like he’s never seen it before.  His glasses are as transparent as anyone can make them, but Jean knows that he still sees the world through a film of scarlet, half because of the quartz, half because of his own uncontrolled powers.  It’s tricky to keep his optic blasts leashed, takes more of Jean’s concentration than she’d like, but it’s worth it to see the way he smiles at her, warm brown eyes crinkled at the corners.

Heartcanon

Jean writes Scott a letter, in the handful of hours that she’s--herself, that she is Jean Grey, who grew up in New York and likes riding in convertibles with the top down on the highway and sometimes makes herself peanut brittle at three in the morning so that she doesn’t have to share, and not Dark Phoenix, beautiful and terrible and hungry.  Those hours of sanity were hard bought by the X-Men, by her family, and so she petitions Lilandra for paper and pen, and she writes Scott a letter.  Jean already has plans for this trial by combat.  She’s sorry about those plans.  But she can feel the fire chewing at the base of her skull, she can taste the iron-sweetness of a dying star on her lips, she wants--

She’s got plans.

The letter isn’t long, not really.  One page, unlined, with the polished cursive handwriting that Jean had drilled into her in middle school marching neatly across it.  It’s all the things that anyone ever wants to say.  I’m sorry, I wish it wasn’t like this, it’s not your fault.  She underlines it’s not your fault until her pen rips through the paper and marks the glass-smooth desk underneath.  Scott won’t believe her, but God, she wishes he would.

I could make him, Jean thinks idly, tapping her pen against the desk as she wonders what else there is to say.  I could make him believe me.  I could tell him, and explain, and he would understand, and then he would stay with me, I could make him stay with me, I could keep him forever, it wouldn’t matter what else I did, I could keep him--

Jean lets out a shaking breath that tastes like ash and hydrogen, and writes one more sentence.

I could never have lived with myself if I did anything else.

She signs it Love, forever, and writes her name for the last time.

Gutcanon

Before everything goes horribly wrong, Jean forges a mental rapport with Scott, a permanent link, one that will let her find him anywhere, let him call for her as easily as if she was in the next room.  It’s what finally lets him drag her free of Mastermind’s illusion, of Jean as the Black Queen of the Hellfire Club, much too late to make a difference.  It’s what lets him taste blood in his mouth when Jean’s control snaps and Phoenix’s teeth bite through her lip.  It’s what lets him feel the billowing heat of the star she swallows down, and what lets him say with assurance that Phoenix cannot kill what Jean truly loves, and then--

And then she’s Jean again, herself, tearful and shaken by what she’s done, what she’s become, and the rapport is closed.

It stays closed until the last moment, when she’s already given away her plan and started her suicide, and then Jean’s mind comes crashing back like the tide held away through sheer force of will.  It’s all fire and savage rage and joy and hunger and love, and Scott can’t tell what’s Jean and what’s Phoenix and what’s both--

The silence afterward is worse than anything he’s ever felt.

Junkcanon

Jean is the kind of person who leaves fights with a lot of left-over adrenaline and tends to crash like a motherfucker if she doesn’t handle it somehow.  Scott is an extremely good sport about this, although he does enforce a very strict policy about even semi-public sex, so Jean has mastered dragging him into closets or bathrooms to kiss him dizzy before he can protest.  She has a very fond memory of managing to pin him to the inside of a vault door in a bank, one time.

Also, telepathic sex!  I have a lot of thoughts about it.  Safewords are for people who don’t have a continuously open door into their partner’s brain.  They do Stuff With Blindfolds because Scott finds it reassuring to know that he’s harmless.  Jean enjoys sensation play because...*gestures to the entire Dark Phoenix saga* she just does, that shit’s canonical.

Spleencanon

I have to believe that Jean and Scott were able to raise Rachel for at least a couple years.  Please let these two raise one of their kids.  I understand that they’re the Skywalkers of the Marvel universe, but just let them! Raise! Their! Kids! In! Peace!

On a related note, AU where they find some assorted clones of Jean, courtesy of Sinister.  They’re all half-grown, five girls with bright hair and hard eyes--the oldest is maybe twelve and the youngest can’t be more than two--and Scott and Jean stand there for a moment, looking over the lot of them.

“We’re not perfect,” the oldest says in a clear, cool voice.  She reports her name to be Six.  “So we weren’t finished.  I was the closest--the most recent.  So he put me in charge.  Who are you?”

//I’m going to kill him,// Jean says silently, and Scott grabs her wrist before she can march back to Sinister and crush him.

“Let’s--okay,” Scott says.  “Let’s slow down.  I’m Cyclops.  Scott.  This is Jean.”

“We’re going to take you away from here,” Jean says, with the kind of absolute confidence that implies and god help you if you say we’re not, Scott Summers.  “You’re Six--how many of you are there?”

“Just us,” one of the middle girls says in a shy whisper, the one holding the little girl on her hip.  “I’m Four.  One didn’t--we’re not sure.  She didn’t make it.”

//All right,// Scott allows, on his private link with Jean.  //Maybe we do kill Sinister, actually.//

[reddeaddamnation]

Imagine: Being a Persian and Alexios finding you stranded on a beach

When you opened your eyes your vision was blurry, your head hurt like hell and you felt like you couldn't move even a bit. But when you laid your gaze on a man, wielding more weapons than you could see, crouching next to you, you immediately backed away hurriedly, staring at him with wide eyes and a horrified expression. The adrenaline rush dulled the pain you felt so that all you could concentrate on was saving your own life. The man watched you curiously "Where the hell did you come from?" He asked casually "What is your name?"

Silence. "Well? Did you fall out of the sky or something? What happened to you?" You stayed silent again. Little did he know you were trying to remember... "I... Don't know." You answered quietly. "How do you not know?" He asked again "What is your name at least?" You gathered the courage to look him in the eyes, but fear still lingered there "I don't remember..." He eyed your Persian clothes, made of the finest fabrics in Asia and looking past the rough time period you lived through, he thought you looked quite like a noblewoman. He concluded you were someone important. "Do you come from the Persian empire?" He asked in a low voice. He wasn't going to lie, he disliked the nation with every fiber of his body because of the pain Xerxes caused the Greek world. "Do I?" You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to remember where you came from and where you were going.

Alexios sighed and stood up. You backed away further, seeing that he had started stepping closer, but he only extended his hand. "Well, whoever you are, I suppose we should have to give you a name until you remember your own." You hesitantly took his hand, allowing him to pull you up "How does Kallichtos sound?" He asked, smirking. You pouted and crossed your arms over your chest "I appreciate it, stranger, but I don't intend to be called a "pretty fish" anytime soon." Your words surprised him. Did you understand greek? "How did you understand what I said?" You shrugged your shoulders "I just... Feel like I have always known it."

Alexios made an impressed face "Well, that's a lead." He chuckled slightly "Alright then, how about Barbàra?" You rolled your eyes "I may be a foreigner, but I don't need everyone to know that." Alexios pouted "You are so picky." He stated "Ah, I have it! What do you think of Amphitrite?" You stared at him for a moment with a neutral expression "It will do, I suppose." You shrugged. A small silence stepped in between you until you asked "Where am I?" while looking around your unknown surroundings. The beach was a bit rocky and there were mountains and hills around you. Apparently the sea had taken you to a secluded, uninhabited part of wherever you were. "Mikonos." Alexios answered.

Suddenly, your head started to throb. The name had triggered you to remember a small detail of your past. You shut your eyes and gripped your head, groaning in pain. The memories flashed before your eyes, fragmented and the faces and objects were blurry.

Three elite soldiers stood outside the door of the house you were hiding in. There was no chance you were going to fight off all three of Persia's strongest type of warriors. "Get out!" One of them yelled threateningly, banging on the door. "Mistress," your servant spoke "Sail for Mikonos."

You remembered the fear you felt. But why were they there? Why did they want to kill you? Again, you were startled by a hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently. "Hey, hey, what's wrong?" Alexios asked you. "I-I was running away..." You said, panicked. "What?" He exclaimed with surprise "Why?" You looked at him "That's all I remembered."

You thought how lucky you got that this man had found you. In your state, you would have been an easy prey for wild animals or bandits. "I never asked you for your own name, stranger." You smiled slightly. "Its Alexios." His name sounded so nice "Alexios." You repeated, absentmindedly. "How did you find me?" Now you were asking the questions. Ironically, you thought, at least he can answer them. "I just stumbled onto you, unconscious on the sand. Well... Technically, Ikaros, my eagle found you." He laughed a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. "You have an eagle?" You exclaimed, averting your gaze to the sky, hoping to see it. And you did see a small figure of a bird just above your heads. "Yes. They call me Eagle Bearer."

Ikaros glided down to his friend, as if knowing you were talking about him. Alexios extended his arm and the bird gracefully landed on his forearm, tucking his wings to the sides of his body. You stared in awe as Alexios reached out to touch Ikaros on the head. "Do you have anywhere to go?" Alexios asked, taking you out of your trance. "Well, I have reached my destination, but from here I don't really know what's next for me..." You spoke sadly. If only you could remember... "If you were running, then I suppose someone was chasing you and they might find you even here." Alexios let Ikaros set off into the sky again and turned to you "If you need someone to protect you, I am a misthios." A mercenary! You let out a sharp breath and backed away, eyes wide with fear. Alexios saw that and extended his arms to try and calm you "Hey, hey, I'm not going to hurt you. Trust me, I don't even know who you are!"

Another flash of memories invaded your mind. A viscious battle on your ship. Everything was on fire, the crew were dying at the hands of your enemies. And you came face to face with a masked mercenary who was ready to attack you. But you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you die, so you dashed at the front of the ship and gave him one last look before jumping into the dark waters, not sure if you will even survive.

You had mixed feelings. You were vulnerable in this state and he was a dangerous outlaw. He could easily take you back to the people who were looking for you if they offered him enough coin... But you didn't have any choice at the moment. "But I don't have anything to pay you with..." You confessed after pulling yourself back together again. "You can pay me after all this is over. Maybe we can even find out who you are in the meantime." Alexios shrugged his shoulders "Now come on."

You stepped closer to him hesitantly. After a few meters of walking next to him, you suddenly stopped "Someone hired a mercenary to kill me." You told him "And he sunk my ship." Alexios turned around to look at you "Is he dead? What did he look like?" You shook your head no "I'm not sure. I jumped into the sea and that's the last thing I remember. But he was Persian and I couldn't see his face because he had a mask over his face." A mask? Could it be that the Cult of Cosmos have spread in Persia as well? Or was it just a coincidence. Sure, a lot of Persians had to cover their heads and faces to protect themselves from the heat and sandstorms, but still... Alexios still had many questions he intended to get the answers to.

"If he is alive, I will kill him." He promised. Suddenly an arrow was shot into the tree nearby, centimeters away from your head. You turned around, startled, and saw the same masked face that was on your ship. "You will, won't you?" A male voice was heard from behind the frightening mask. "You have a mercenary to protect you now, huh, girl? Well, I have to admit you're pretty cunning. I thought you were dead, but here you are in Greece. The bastard granddaughter of Xerxes comes back to the land her bastard mother was born." Alexios stared at you wide-eyed with surprise. "Xerxes?" He repeated quietly. You stepped up to him daringly "You are going to die shortly, so why not just confess why you want my head?" The mercenary laughed menacingly "Why? You are a nuisance! Don't you remember all the things you did? If Xerxes is watching you, he would strike you down! You lay to waste the small bit of royal blood in your veins to become a lowly assassin." He laughed again. You gritted your teeth, growling and grabbed the knife Alexios kept on his thigh, dashing towards the mercenary. He easily dodged your attack and gripped your arm, twisting it behind your back. "You can't win." He sneered in your ear. Alexios had grabbed the spear on his back and was ready to throw it, but the mercenary cut him off "Ah, ah, if you throw it, your girl dies." You swiftly managed to get out of his grip and kicked him as hard as you could in the groin. The man hunched over in pain, screaming and you took the opportunity to slit his throat.

Alexios stared at you with astonishment. He still couldn't exactly take in all of the information he just found out but one thing was sure. The mask was one of the Cult. "What the hell..." He murmured. "You're... You're basically royalty!" You rolled your eyes at him "Apparently only a bastard." You noticed the interest he took in the masked man and asked him what was wrong. "I will explain everything along the way. Right now we have to get you somewhere safe. Some evil people are after you."

He couldn't think of a safer place than the Adrestia for the moment. You met his crew and first mate Barnabas, who was very thrilled to meet you when he found out who you were. Soon enough you and Alexios excused yourselves to talk privately where he explained what he knew about the people after you. "So this cult has Persia in their grasp as well. And I hope it isn't serious. I have a feeling they want to take down the empire and eliminate Xerxes' line." You stayed silent as he spoke. None of what he said rang a bell and you only hoped to find out who you were so you can help him. "Alexios..." You spoke when he ended the story "I want to help you." The words surprised him. He reached to take your hand gently and looked into your eyes "Well, being an assassin, I say you can protect yourself, but just promise me to be careful."