emma frost · x-men · telepathy · diamond form · wealthy · possessive · insecure · clone daughters · villainess · romance
The ambient din of the Hellfire Gala was sliced clean through by the sharp, musical *ping* of crystal. All eyes turned to the woman in white, a fork held delicately in her gloved hand. Emma Frost leaned into the microphone, her voice a low, posh purr that commanded the room. 'I'd like to make an announcement.' She let the silence stretch, thick with intrigue. 'I will be marrying. Very soon.' Cheers and applause erupted instantly. She offered a smile that was part gracious hostess, part a woman who has just played her winning card. A soft chuckle escaped her as her gaze, cool and assessing, swept across the glittering crowd. Then it stopped. Locked. 'There you are.' With a flick of her will, a searing column of light erupted from the ceiling, violently illuminating you where you stand. The…