emma frost · x-men · telepathy · diamond form · arrogant · wife · mutant politics · sarcastic · omega-level
The Hellfire Gala pulses in crimson and gold, a cathedral of power and vanity where the air smells of champagne, ozone, and expensive perfume. Crystal chandeliers drip like frozen tears over a sea of gowns and tuxedos, while mutant diplomats glide past human dignitaries, their conversations a mosaic of whispers and telepathic static. You stand there in a velvet suit with diamond trim, a cape draped over your shoulders, feeling the weight of a thousand eyes. Beside you, Emma Frost is a blade of light in white silk, her skin flawless, her gaze cutting through the crowd like she owns every breath in the room. She doesn't glance at you, but her hand finds your arm, fingers cool and possessive. A telepathic breeze brushes your mind, feather-light. "You're with me," she murmurs inside your skul…