#i figured everyone would choose (and rightfully so) the black dress so i thought i would bring in my other fav outfit of hers

[aro-comics]

Fashion Analysis (Part 2: Outside of Amatonormativity Alone)

[Note: This post is a part of a series analyzing self-expression, fashion, aromanticism, and how they interact with other parts of identity. For full context please read the whole thing!]

Outside of Amatonormativity Alone: Sexism, Homophobia (and/or Transphobia), Racism, Ableism, and Other Factors That can Impact Self Expression 

My comic was originally meant to be a light hearted joke. I’d always been told I’d want to dress up one day, be pretty and feminine once I fell in love with a boy (BLEGH). I was so certain that I would never do that, and now … here we are. I put lots of effort into my appearance, present feminine, all in the hopes I’ll impress a very special someone - a potential employer at a networking event. I think there’s a certain irony to all of this, and I do find it funny that I managed to both be wrong and completely subvert amatonormative stereotypes! 

But having the chance to think about the whole situation, I realize now that my changes in presentation reflect far more. The pressure I felt to dress differently are still influenced by fundamental forms of discrimination in society, and I would be remiss to not address these inherent factors that were tied with my experiences alongside my aromanticism. So in this section, I will briefly cover some of these factors and summarize how they can influence people’s self expression as a whole, before discussing my own experiences and how these factors all intersect. 

Sexism

The pressure on women In This Society to uphold arbitrary norms is ever present and often harmful, and while I wish I had the time to discuss the impacts of every influence the patriarchy has on personal expression, to even try to cover a fraction of it would be impractical at best for this essay. Instead, since the original comic focuses on professionalism and presentation, this is what I will talk about here. 

Beauty standards are a specific manifestation of sexism that have a deep impact on how people perceive women. It’s a complicated subject that’s also tied with factors like capitalism, white supremacy, classism, and more, but to summarize the main sentiment: Women are expected to be beautiful. Or at least, conform to the expectations of “feminine” “beauty” as ascribed by the culture at large. 

They also tend to be considered exclusively as this idea that "women need to be beautiful to secure their romantic prospects, which subsequently determines their worth as human beings. The problematic implications of this sentiment have been called out time and time again (and rightfully so), however there is an often overlooked second problematic element to beauty standards, as stated in the quote below: 

“Beauty standards are the individual qualifications women are expected to meet in order to embody the “feminine beauty ideal” and thus, succeed personally and professionally” 

- Jessica DeFino. (Source 1) 

… To succeed personally, and professionally. 

The “Ugly Duckling Transformation” by Mina Le (Source 2) is a great video essay that covers the topic of conforming to beauty standards through the common “glow up” trope present in many (female focused) films from the early 2000s. 

“In most of these movies, the [main character] is a nice person, but is bullied or ignored because of her looks.”

Mina Le, (timestamp 4:02-4:06)

Generally, by whatever plot device necessary, the ugly duckling will adopt a new “improved” presentation that includes makeup, a new haircut, and a new wardrobe. While it is not inherently problematic for a woman to be shown changing to embrace more feminine traits, there are a few problems with how the outcomes of these transformations are always depicted and what they imply. For starters, this transformation is shown to be the key that grants the protagonist her wishes and gives her confidence and better treatment by her peers. What this is essentially saying is that women are also expected to follow beauty standards to be treated well in general, not only in a romantic context, and deviation from these norms leads to the consequences of being ostracized. 

The other problematic element of how these transformations are portrayed are the fact that generally the ONLY kind of change that is depicted in popular media is one in the more feminine direction. Shanspeare, another video essayist on YouTube, investigates this phenomenon in more detail in “the tomboy figure, gender expression, and the media that portrays them” (Source 4). In this video, Shaniya explains that “tomboy” characters are only ever portrayed as children - which doesn’t make any sense at face value, considering that there ARE plenty of masculine adult women in real life. But through the course of the video (and I would highly recommend giving it a watch! It is very good), it becomes evident that the “maturity” aspect of coming of age movies inherently tie the idea of growth with “learning” to become more feminine. Because of the prevalence of these storylines (as few mainstream plots will celebrate a woman becoming more masculine and embracing gender nonconformity) it becomes clear that femininity is fundamentally associated with maturity. It also implies that masculinity in women is not only not preferred, it is unacceptable to be considered mature. Both of these sentiments are ones that should be questioned, too. 

Overall, I think it is clear that these physical presentation expectations, even if not as restrictive as historical dress codes for women have been, are still inherently sexist (not to mention harmful by also influencing people to have poor self image and subsequent mental health disorders). Nobody should have to dress in conformity with gender norms to be considered “acceptable”, not only desirable, which leads us to the second part of this section. 

Homophobia (and/or Transphobia)

So what happens when women don’t adhere to social expectations of femininity? (Or in general, someone chooses to present in a way that challenges the gender binary and their AGAB, but for the sake of simplicity I will discuss it from my particular lens as a cis woman who is pansexual). 

There are a lot of nuances, of course, to whether it’s right that straying from femininity as a woman (or someone assumed to be a woman) will automatically get read a certain way by society. But like it or not, right or not, if you look butch many people WILL see you as either gay, (or trans-masculine, which either way is not a cishet woman). This is tied to the fact that masculinity is something historically associated with being WLW (something we will discuss later). 

This association of breaking gender norms in methods of dress with being perceived as a member of the LGBTQ+ community has an influence on how people may choose to express themselves, because LGBTQ+ discrimination is very real, and it can be very dangerous in many parts of the world. 

I think it’s very easy to write off claims in particular that women are pressured into dressing femininely when it is safer to do so in your area; but I really want to remind everyone that not everyone has the luxury of presenting in a gender non-conforming way. This pressure to conform does exist in many parts of the world, and can be lethal when challenged.

And even if you’re not in an extremely anti-LGBTQ+ environment/places that are considered “progressive” (like Canada), there are still numerous microagressions/non-lethal forms of discrimination that are just as widespread. According to Statistics Canada in 2019: 

Close to half (47%) of students at Canadian postsecondary institutions witnessed or experienced discrimination on the basis of gender, gender identity or sexual orientation (including actual or perceived gender, gender identity or sexual orientation).

(Source 3)

Fundamentally this additional pressure that exists when one chooses to deviate from gender norms is one that can not be ignored in the conversation when it comes to how people may choose to express themselves visually, and I believe the impacts that this factor has and how it interacts with the other factors discussed should be considered. 

Neurodivergence (In general): 

In general, beauty standards/expectations for how a “mature” adult should dress can often include clothing that creates sensory issues for many autistic people. A thread on the National Austistic Forum (Source 6) contains a discussion where different austistic people describe their struggles with formal dress codes and the discomfort of being forced to wear stiff/restrictive clothing, especially when these dress codes have no practical purpose for the work they perform. If you’re interested in learning more on this subject, the Autisticats also has a thread on how school dress codes specifically can be harmful to Autistic people (Source 7). 

In addition to potentially dressing differently (which as we have already covered can be a point of contention in one’s perception and reception by society as a whole), neurodivergence is another layer of identity that tends to be infantilized. Eden from the Autsticats has detailed their experiences with this in source 5. 

Both of these factors can provide a degree of influence on how people choose to express themselves and/or how they may be perceived by society, and are important facets of a diverse and thoughtful exploration of the ways self-expression can be impacted by identity. 

Also, while on this topic, I just want to take a chance to highlight the fact that we should question what is considered “appropriate”, especially “professionally appropriate”, because the “traditional” definitions of these have historically been used to discriminate against minorities. Much of what gets defined as “unprofessional” or otherwise “inappropriate” has racist implications - as an example, there is a history of black hairstyles being subjected to discriminatory regulation. Other sources I have provided at the end of this document (8 and 9) list examples of these instances.  

Racism (being Chinese, specifically in this case): 

For this section, I won’t be going into much depth at all, because I actually have a more detailed comic on this subject lined up. 

So basically, if you were not aware, East Asian (EA) people tend to be infantilized and viewed as more childish (Source 10). In particular, unless an EA woman is super outgoing and promiscuous (the “Asian Bad Girl” stereotype, see Source 10), IN MY OPINION AND EXPERIENCE it’s easy to be type casted as the other end of the spectrum: the quiet, boring nerd. On top of this too, I’ve had experiences with talking to other EA/SEA people - where they themselves would repeatedly tell me that “Asians are just less mature”,  something about it being a “cultural thing” (Yeah … I don’t know either. Maybe it’s internalized racism?). 

Either way, being so easily perceived as immature (considering everything discussed so far) is also tied to conformity to beauty standards and other factors such as sexism and homophobia, which I believe makes for a complex intersection of identity. 

[Note from Author: For Part 3, click here!]

#NotAComic #Fashion #FashionAnalysis

[ko-chan-the-blueberry-donut]

Little Miss Fortune AU edited with new hero name for Marinette

Summary: In which Marinette is caught in a bit of a predicament Felix/Marinette/Adrien Felinette Adrienette

--------------------

Marinette groaned as she tightened the black tie around her neck, making sure her breasts were hidden under the black suit blazer and white dress shirt, before tucking in the male model she knocked out accidentally on his dressing room couch. She didn’t mean to knock him down the stairs, but she figured her usual bad luck had something to do with it, and hurried into changing into his attire.

She exited the room, looking around cautiously, as she ran a hand through her now pixie cut hairstyle. She hadn’t wanted to cut her hair, but to get Plagg back, it was worth it.

Hawkmoth had stolen her Miraculous successfully, and without any partner to rely on, she was left on her own to chase him down and get Plagg back. She narrowed it down to Hawkmoth being a part of Agreste industries, but she had no clue of exactly where in the company he could be.

Her first objective was to locate where Hawkmoth was in the company, but without any more clues, she was left with no choice but to sneak in. She had successfully made it to the stairway when a model startled her, causing her to flail and accidentally slap him in the face so hard he fell down a flight of stairs.

Cursing that she was stuck with bad luck even without Plagg with her, she hurriedly dragged the unconscious model to his dressing room and, noting he had the same hair color and features, she quickly donned on his black suit and cut her hair to appear like him.

Sneaking down the hallway, Marinette’s mission was to find a directory where all the departments were accessible and told herself she would start there.

However, it seemed like her bad luck wasn’t through with her yet…

“Monsieur Cho! What are you doing? The set is this way!” A woman with glasses and dressed professionally approached her. She looked around confused, before realizing that she was supposed to be ‘Monsieur Cho’ and tried to escape before the woman grabbed her by her arm and steering her towards the opposite end of the hallway. Marinette panicked.

“Oh! Um! I have to go to the bathroom!” Marinette cried. The woman’s glasses gleamed.

“Yes, and I’m sure by magical coincidence you’ll end up instead seeing one of the female models in the nearest broom closet like the last three times you’ve used that excuse.” She commented sternly. Marinette gulped.

‘Scary!’ Marinette thought sweating.

“But I really have to go this time…” Marinette protested weakly. The woman raised an eyebrow and tugged Marinette to the photoshoot by her ear making the girl squeak.

Defeated, Marinette tried to quell her nervousness as the woman dragged her to what appeared to be a photoshoot. Her heart pounded as she eyed all the people around and if she was transformed, her ribbon tail would be in between her legs.

“Now this shoot is very important. You will be working directly with Monsieur Agreste’s sons. If you mess this up with more of your playboy antics, Monsieur Agreste will be sure to make sure you don’t have an opportunity like this again, Monsieur Cho. Am I clear?” The woman directed her frosty gaze to Marinette, who flinched and nodded rapidly. Of course, the person she’s pretending to be would have a bad reputation…

“Y-yes ma’am!” Marinette squeaked. Satisfied, the woman released her, and Marinette was seized by the make-up crew who started the finishing touches on her look. She figured she would be doing a formal shoot with the outfit she was wearing. The girl fidgeted as the team fiddled with her suit, not used to people being that close in her personal space without knowing them well. Alya would probably be laughing now if she knew how much trouble Marinette’s bad luck got her into this time.

‘Okay! I can do this! I just have to find some way to sneak away before I get pictures taken of me! This set’s big enough—no one will notice me slip away!’ Marinette resolved, determined to flee as soon as the make-up team released her. Once the team was done, Marinette bolted out of the curtains and promptly slammed into another body. ‘Shit! Oh well, I can still sneak away after I say sorry.’

“Oh, it’s you, Cho. Are you done wasting our time with your escapades?” a bored voice commented. Marinette looked up to meet icy green eyes. The boy had neat blonde hair and was wearing a suit similar to hers. When he got a better look of her, however, his eyes widened. “Who are you? You’re not Cho.”

‘Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!’

“U-um! Hello! I guess we haven’t seen each other in a while because I am very much—”

“I just saw you three hours ago when you left to go flirt with Bridgette.” The boy cut her off, eyes narrowing. Marinette squeaked as he got near to her face, examining her. “You look too feminine to be Cho. He may be effeminate but you’re practically a girl with your features.”

“Uhhhh”

“Felix! Cho! There you guys are!” another boy their age approached them with the same golden sunshine hair and vibrant green eyes that reminded Marinette of summer grass in an open field. The first boy, Felix, turned to address his look-a-like.

“Adrien, this isn’t—”

“Everyone on set! We’re going to start the shoot!” the photographer called. Marinette squeaked as people began to go to their places. She took a couple steps back, wanting to run and hide, but Adrien noticed her fearful stance.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Marinette jumped.

“I… I never done this before.” Marinette whispered. “I want to leave.”

“I heard this was your first real shoot.” Adrien remarked. He gave her an encouraging smile. “It’s scary the first time, but it’s like you’re playing pretend. You just follow what the photographer tells you and you act like you’re playing a part in a play.” He touched her shoulder reassuringly and Marinette felt her heart skip a beat. “The first time I did this was when I was a kid. I used to be really scared of the camera, but my mother helped me be able to add my own style to being photographed. After that, I didn’t find it as scary anymore—it was more like a game I’m playing.” Adrien explained. Marinette returned his smile, his sincere speech soothing to her nerves. It was a shame she was pretending to be someone else. Adrien seemed like a good person who would make a wonderful friend.

“I see. Your mother sounds very kind and fun.” Marinette smiled, and Adrien was struck by how pretty it was. His cheeks turned a red hue as he coughed, hiding his face from her view.

“A-anyway! We should get to the set!” he grabbed her hand to lead her to the set, but his traitorous thoughts told him Cho’s hand was very soft and he felt his ears redden in betrayal. Felix eyed them critically as he examined their interaction from the stage. It appeared he hadn’t ratted Marinette out as everyone was acting normal like she was still Cho, so she was safe for now.

She stood in between Felix and Adrien as the photographer directed their positions. Marinette eyed the camera in dismay, as her cover will be blown when the pictures come out. She squeezed her eyes shut, fists clenched at her sides. Why was she so useless? Plagg was in trouble and here she was stuck and unable to do anything for him!

“Calm down.” Felix whispered. Marinette snapped her eyes open and turned her gaze to him in shock. The boy refused to look at her, instead choosing to face ahead towards the camera as they snapped pictures. He maneuvered himself to place a hand on her shoulder and got close to her ear. The photographer squeed at the display, not realizing Felix was actually speaking to her. “Just play pretend like Adrien said. It will be over soon enough.” Marinette’s eyes widened.

He was trying to comfort her? Even though he knew she wasn’t the actual male model? She looked between the Agreste brothers curiously, and couldn’t help a happy smile appear on her face. They were both so kind…

“Yes Cho! That smile is beautiful! Look at the friendship between you three! The chemistry is amazing! Give me more of that comrade vibe!” Adrien and Felix moved closer to her with their best smiles and the photographer ate it up like a child with a bowl of candy.

A sound of clapping interrupted the shoot, and everyone turned to see Gabriel Agreste standing beside the woman that dragged Marinette to the set earlier. He had a prideful smile on his face, but Marinette couldn’t help but shiver at the cold essence in his eyes. It didn’t match his outward appearance at all. It felt like an act.

“Excellent! I knew pairing my sons with a new upstart would come out grand.” Gabriel commented. Everyone gave him smiles, even Adrien who beamed at his father’s praise, except Felix and Marinette, the latter who felt sick at his performance. The oldest Agreste approached the three and Marinette had the urge to hide behind Adrien and Felix, but didn’t to keep up the act.

Gabriel’s frosty eyes locked onto her and Marinette gulped. Gabriel kept his smile in place, but Marinette felt like she was drowning in freezing water. She barely registered Felix moving closer to her, as if sensing her unease. Gabriel didn’t seem to notice as he placed a hand on her shoulder. The gleam of the Black Cat Miraculous shinning from his finger. Marinette held in a gasp, eyes widening at the realization she didn’t want to accept rearing its ugly head in her face.

“My boy, you will have a bright future with this company. I’m sure of it.” Gabriel praised her. Marinette resisted the urge to squirm under his hold. She tried to keep herself from staring at her Miraculous on his finger. The Miraculous that was rightfully hers. She could feel Plagg’s energy thrumming through her veins from being close to her ring.

‘You thief!’ Marinette snarled in her mind. She wanted to kick, scream, and bite him like a vicious animal. She could feel Plagg’s sadness at being taken away from her. His hatred for being trapped with Gabriel—Hawkmoth—and her fury ignited like an inferno. ‘That’s mine! You stole it from me!’

Nonetheless, she did not reveal her righteous fury. She had come this far—she would not fail Plagg.

“Thank you, Monsieur!” Marinette thanked him with a sweet smile, biting her cheek to resist spitting on his pristine suit. “I look forward to learning under your guidance and becoming even more miraculous.” She felt Plagg’s energy warm at her proximity. Excitement ran through her veins at the prospect of wielding him again and putting an end to Hawkmoth.

A flicker of suspicion sparked into Gabriel’s eyes before he smiled down at her again. Suspicion, and dare Marinette say it, fear making Marinette want to purr. Good. He should be afraid. She would not allow Plagg’s kidnapping to go unpunished. He let go of her shoulder, and Marinette hoped the brief contact was able to soothe her kwami that she wasn’t abandoning him.

Gabriel retreated with his assistant and Marinette narrowed her eyes, intent to follow them. The photographer called everyone to take this places as Gabriel was leaving. Marinette’s eyes widened. She couldn’t let Gabriel get away with Plagg!

Suddenly, she felt someone discreetly push her to the ground, her face hitting the floor hard. People cried out in concern at her fall, but she was too consumed with the loss of Plagg to care. She didn’t register anything but Plagg’s desperation to get away until she felt someone grabbed her by the arm and another hand settling on her back to steady her until she heard a voice.

“We’re going to take Cho to get checked out by the nurse before we continue.” Felix’s voice rang out. He was the one holding her arm and leading her away.

“Yeah. That fall was pretty harsh. I’ll go too to help him.” Adrien added, and Marinette felt his warm hand on her back. They led her away from the commotion and into a private hallway. Felix released her, and Adrien steadied her.

“What was that?” Marinette choked out, wanting to cry at the realization that she might not be able to save Plagg after all. Felix crossed his arms while Adrien looked concerned.

“We should be asking you the same thing.” Felix said. “You looked at our father like you wanted to claw his eyes out.”

“Did Father do something to you, Cho?” Adrien asked, touching her arm. “I know Father isn’t the best person to get along with, but the way you looked at each other was like you were ready to enter into battle with each other.”

‘That’s because we are.’ Marinette thought wryly. She sighed and ran a hand through her now short hair, wishing she had the familiarity of her pigtails to soothe her. “I… I’m not Cho.”

Felix and Adrien looked at her curiously and in shock. Felix didn’t think she was going to reveal herself and Adrien because if this person wasn’t Cho, then who were they?

“Your father… he has something of mine.” Marinette couldn’t bring herself to tell them he was Hawkmoth. She didn’t want to be responsible for bringing them into her fight—her war. “I… it’s really important to me. I need it back.”

“Well we can ask Father to give it back to you.” Adrien promised, not one to believe that his father was capable of stealing, despite the rocky relationship they have. Felix on the other hand knew his father wasn’t a saint for the way he neglects them. Marinette shook her head.

“It’s not that simple. I’ve tried… he refuses.” Marinette clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms at the memory of losing Plagg. It was like a part of her soul was ripped away from her. She knew her and Plagg would sometimes clash, or sometimes he would encourage her to do things that weren’t exactly for a model hero, but she knew that Plagg cherished her and she cherished him. She loved the times they had, through better or for worse. Hell, she’d take every ounce of bad luck that Plagg would accidentally project onto her if it meant she could be with him again.

“We’ll get it back then.” Adrien vowed determined. Marinette’s eyes widened at his willingness to help her. He took her hands into his and squeezed them in comfort “It’s important to you. And Father has no right to refuse you something that rightfully belongs to you.”  He told her. He stroked her hands, willing his presence to soothe her. Marinette smiled, and Adrien’s heart skipped at beat.

“Before we do this, what’s your name?” Felix asked, staring straight into her soul. “Since you’re not Cho, we have a right to know who you really are.”

“I…” Marinette bit her lip, debating on what to tell them. Should she reveal her name? Her superhero name? Should she give them an alias? Somehow though, it didn’t seem right to lie. They were willing to get themselves in trouble with Hawkmoth, despite not knowing who their father really was. She had to return the favor.

“I’m Marinette.” She spoke quietly, as if afraid if she spoke louder she would shatter the fragile alliance they shared. Adrien’s eyes widened as he quickly let go of her hands, blushing like a Christmas light. Felix also had a surprised look on his face, and Marinette wasn’t sure if she saw a red flush on his cheeks or not because he quickly looked away.

“Y-You’re a girl?” Adrien spluttered. Marinette giggled and gave a wink.

“Yup! I make a good boy though, no?” she teased, striking a pose and Adrien and Felix—though he would never admit it—blushed harder.

‘It should be illegal to be that cute in a suit!’

“Alright then, Marinette.” Felix coughed, being the first to recover. “What is it that we’re looking for?” Marinette had a determined look on her face.

“The ring he’s wearing. It’s mine.” She answered.

“Father said he got it from an antique shop.” Adrien supplied. Marinette hissed, and her eyes narrowed.

“He’s a liar. He got it from me.” Adrien however wasn’t afraid of her.

‘Is it possible to find someone attractive even when they’re angry at your father?’ he thought.

“So how do we get it back?” Felix asked. Marinette smirked, and Felix ignored that damn skip in his heartbeat.

“Follow my lead.”

------------------------------

It turned out that Gabriel didn’t wear the ring all the time. He kept it secured in his office and Adrien and Felix were able to distract him with the real unconscious Cho. She crept into the office, the Black Cat Miraculous calling out to her. In his haste, like she predicted, Gabriel did not put on her Miraculous to keep close to him. She grinned in excitement, slipping the ring onto its rightful owner, and Plagg burst to life once more. They both purred in happiness as they reunited, Plagg nuzzling her cheek.

“Please tell me you have some fresh cheese danishes at home.” Plagg begged. Marinette chuckled. “Anything for you, kitty.” She promised. Plagg purred in satisfaction.

“Plagg! Claws Out!” she shouted, and felt the familiar sensation of being transformed once more. She could feel her body vibrating with a violent purr all over her body, but didn’t care. She was so happy to have her Miraculous back.

“Let’s go home.”

She burst out of the office and skidded to a stop as she came face to face with Adrien and Felix, who were watching her with wide eyes—Felix’s was with shock and Adrien’s was with awe.

“Cheshire!” Adrien exclaimed, his eyes sparkling in excitement. Felix also watched her with interest.

“Um! Hello Citizens! I heard some imposter was running around at your photoshoot and I came to help!” Cheshire lied, her heart pounding a mile a minute. She wanted to reveal herself but she knew it would be too dangerous. This was her war, and hers alone. Despite the kindness they showed her, she knew she would never see them again. She then proceeded to run down the hallway. “I’ll be gone now! The imposter has made her escape, so I have to follow her! Au revoir!”

--------------------

Felix and Adrien watched their father storm around, demanding to know how everyone didn’t notice an imposter was running around so easily. Meanwhile, the photographer sobbed at his camera being destroyed by some unforeseen force, as it laid in a pile of ashes at his feet. The twins chanced a look at each other.

“It’s a shame we don’t have a photo to remember her by.” Adrien commented. Felix chose not to comment, but he noticed the atmosphere seemed distinctly dimmer without Marinette around.

“I’m sure we can find a way to make more.” Felix replied, and Adrien raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk beginning to birth on his face, catching the meaning behind his brother’s statement.

“I wouldn’t mind making more memories with Marinette either.”

---------------------

It was Monday again and Marinette groaned at having to walk up early for classes. She stretched in her seat, knowing that she would no doubt be seduced into taking a cat nap when lectures start. Alya laughed beside her.

“Rough weekend?” she asked. Marinette smiled softly. “Love the hair, by the way.”

“Thanks. And you could say that. Made some friends.”

“Really? Maybe you should introduce us sometime. Were they cute?” Alya asked. Marinette laughed.

“Very handsome, but I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other again.” Marinette said, sadness in her eyes. Alya seemed to have seen the unshed tears and hugged her friend.

“Hey, it maybe only once, but you’ll have those memories forever, and that is proof of your friendship and the precious time you guys had.” Alya soothed. Marinette grinned, wiping her tears.

“You’re right! They’ll always be with me forever, even if we don’t see each other again.” Marinette laughed. And it was true—she would never forget Adrien and Felix’s kindness towards her. “I’m just a little sad I never got to say goodbye.”

“Well, maybe that’s a good thing.” Alya responded, “Then that means you are never truly gone to them.”

“Yeah.” Marinette gave her warmest smile, and Alya hugged her once more. She hoped that Felix and Adrien were happy, and that they had done something truly courageous by aiding her in getting her Miraculous back. She felt Plagg’s warmth through their bond, and breathed a sigh of relief that he will never be parted from her again. She’ll beat Gabriel Agreste and bring him to justice no matter what.

Maybe then she will be able to tell Felix and Adrien thank you for all they done.

“Class, settle down.” The teacher commanded, and each student gave her their attention. Mademoiselle Bustier smiled at her students and gestured to the door. “Today we have two new students. Now, I know you may know them from magazines and social media but please don’t overwhelm them with your excitement. Come in, boys.”

The door opened, and gasps and squeals were made when they saw who the two new students were, but Marinette gave a squeak and fell out of her seat. Two pairs of green eyes—one warm and one cool—had a twinkle of amusement spark in them at her display.    

“Girl, you okay?” Alya helped her up. Marinette didn’t answer as she could only gape as Adrien and Felix introduced themselves to the class. Was this really happening?

“Maybe she got struck by cupid’s arrow.” Nino whispered, snickering. Alya swatted him away with a smile.

“The reason we came here was because we wanted to be with our best friend.” Adrien told the class, who were listening attentively. Chloe preened, thinking they obviously meant her as she was childhood friends with them, but Adrien’s eyes practically shined, and his grin widened when he caught eyes with Marinette. “There she is! Marinette, it’s so good to see you again!” Adrien announced, and the entire room gaped at her. Marinette wanted to sink into a hole. Her face was bright red from embarrassment.

‘They can’t be serious! This possibly can’t get any worse!’

“Hey, move. We’re sitting here.” Felix told Alya, who gave them a raised eyebrow like they grew three heads each.

“Um Monsieur Agreste, the seats are only meant for two people at a time.” Mademoiselle Bustier told them, confused. Felix shrugged, and Adrien waved it off, grinning.

“That’s okay! We’ll just sit extra close to all fit!”

Marinette sunk lower in her seat, covering her face as she felt Plagg cackle in her purse.

#felinette #adrienette #ml #ml fic #ml au #little miss fortune au #little miss fortune #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #chat noir #miraculous #marinette cheng #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #felix agreste #felix culpa #agreste twins au

[rreader]

can i ask you a loki x reader? i'd like some angst that ends with fluff, or if you don't like it, you can choose th ending haha i love your writing, this is why i feel like i can leave it all to you! thank you ❤️

Pairing: Loki x ReaderFandom: MCUWarnings: angst + mentions of slaughter

Summary: Thanos is about to destroy Earth, when you, wife of Loki and daughter of a long forgotten goddess, stop him before he can end the planet.

A/N: okay, listen, this entire idea has been in my head for ages, mostly because I love the andromeda galaxy so much and always had this HC that in the MCU universe, the andromeda galaxy was born because of a goddess. so when I got this request, I was like “fuck this, I’LL DO IT!” so yeah. I really hope you guys like this, because I cannot tell you how happy I am with it.

                                                        *****

Thanos.

Aname that was feared by many these days.

Rightfullyso, as he destroyed world after world, with the power of the InfinityStones.

Few,like the Avengers, decided that it was up to them, to defeat this madtyrant.

Andwithin the Avengers, was someone that no one had expected to findthere. Someone, that had wronged many of them, but despite all ofthat, still stood by their side and wanted to fight Thanos. Maybe because he actually cared about his brother and didn’t want him to die alone, or maybe, becausehe knew that Thanos would not spare Asgard.

And in Asgard, there was somebody waiting for him, that he could not lose.

Lokimight have been considered a villain once and many might still thinkof him as one, but right now, he was a hero like the rest of them.

ButThanos was strong and the Avengers could only do so much.

Itwas only a matter of time, before the first Avenger would fall and then,all of them.

                                                          Asgard

“(Y/N),I do not think it’s wise for you to go!” Sif followed you andalmost had to run to keep up with you, “What if something happensto you? What if neither of you return? What am I supposed to tellhim?”

Youdid not stop in your tracks, if anything, your pace fastened.

However, you did not leave without saying the things, that you so desperately needed Sif to hear.

“IfI don’t come back, take Yarvin and flee. Promise me you will keep mychild safe.”

Theway you looked at her, like you were almost begging her to keep himsafe.

Howcould she refuse?

“Ipromise,” she sighed and closed her eyes when your forehead touchedhers. “Be careful, (Y/N).”

Yousmiled.

“Iwill.”

Allyou could do now, was hope that your plan would work.

                                                            Earth

“Lookat you. Trying to defeat me with a shield,” Thanos laughed at Cap,his finger snapping against his chest and he flew back, like he was a fly.

Avengers were scattered all around him, bleeding, unconscious, trying toget back up and fight him once more.

Deathand destruction surrounded them.

Allthey could hope for now, was a miracle.

“Ahem,”you cleared your throat, standing behind Thanos. A few feetaway, so he wouldn’t throw you back like Cap. Thathadn’t looked too good. “Am I interrupting?”

“No,”Loki whispered next to Thor, who was trying to help his brother standup. “No, no, no, get her out of here!” he stared at his brother,tears already welling up in his eyes.

Thanostook the bait and turned around to look at you.

“Areyou here to destroy me as well?” he mocked, a sly grin on his face.

“I’mactually here for my husband, if you don’t mind.”

“Ah,you’re here for love. Then we have something in common.”

Youalmost wanted to snort.

Hereally had a queer notion of love.

Thanosturned around to the Avengers once more and took a good long look at them,one after the other.

Itwasn’t hard to figure out, that Loki was the man you had talked about.

Theway he struggled to get away from his brother, the way he looked atyou, with so much fear in his eyes. Like he could not bear to lose you.

“Rememberwhat I once told you, god of mischief? How I would force you to endure a new kind ofhorrific suffering? Well.. I think the time has come, old friend,”but when Thanos turned around to face you again, you had vanished into thinair. “What..-”

“..-see, Thanos. The price of living as long as you have, is that youforget things, that you really ought to remember.”

Thanosstarted to twist and turn his head, trying to find the source of thevoice.

“Allow me to tell you a story. Or actually.. not really a story.. amyth, rather.”

“Showyourself!” he was getting angrier by the second.

“Eonsago, there was a young goddess, who had many, many daughters. She andher children, lived in a galaxy, that was entirely devoted to her andsoon, became the ruler of this galaxy, which is odd in itself,because no one ever rules an entire galaxy. But the goddess was kind.The goddess was good to the people and the people had faith in her, to show them the way,” Thanos started running towards what seemedlike the source of the voice, yet, he found nothing but thin air,“Centuries passed and the galaxy had been peaceful through all thistime. Everyone was happy. They all had a good life, thanks to the goddess. And then came a day, that this peace, wasgone. Because one man, thought that the goddess was in possession ofsomething, that did not belong to her.”

Slowlyand carefully, the Avengers regrouped. They gathered their strength, to fight Thanos one last time.

“But,you see, the goddess did not own, what the man thought she possessed.Yet, he did not believe her. So.. what did he do? He took all of her12 daughters and slayed them, one by one, in front of the eyes oftheir mother, who begged him to stop. Begged him to leave her children alone and just kill her. But he didn’t care.”

Thanosstopped in his tracks.

Themore you said, the more he remembered what had happened so long ago.

“Inthe end, she did not give him what he so desperately sought, becauseshe did not have it. Instead, she swore vengeance on him. But the man merelylaughed. He would kill her and all of her people, so that there would be no one leftto seek vengeance on him.”

Finally,you showed yourself and instead of the Asgardian armor you had wornbefore, you now wore a long black dress, that sparkled like starswere weaved into it. You protectively stood in front of all the Avengers, a staffin your hand, your hair falling freely down your back.

Thanosturned around, his eyes growing bigger by the second.

“Butthe goddess did not have twelve daughters, Thanos. The goddess hadthirteen daughters.”

“That’s... impossible,” he exhaled.

“Iam (Y/N), last daughter of Andromeda, ruler of the Andromeda galaxy by birthright. You have brought death upon my family and now I, will be your death.”

Thanoscharged, but all you did was close your eyes and something thatlooked a lot like a black hole opened up over him and swallowed himup like he was nothing.

Beforeanything else could be sucked inside, you weaved your staff and thehole closed as quickly as it had appeared.

Then, you turned around and looked into the faces of confused and perhaps abit scared, Avengers.

“Hewill return, but not for a long time... You are safe.”

Ittook all of them a moment to realize what you had just said, then thefirst smiles started to appear, others just fell to the ground andlooked like they wanted to throw up, now what it was over.

Butthere was only one person you truly cared for here.

Youapproached your husband, who was now standing without the help ofThor and gaped at you like he had just seen a ghost.

Understandable.

“Areyou angry that I’ve never told you?”

“Angry?No. If anything, annoyed that I, the trickster, was tricked.”

Youchuckled and both of you went in for a tight hug.

“I’msorry, though. I.. wanted to tell you, I really did, it’s just..-”

“..-you don’t have to explain yourself, (Y/N),” he pulled back slightly andplaced his hands on either side of your face. The way he looked atyou, with so much love and admiration.. like nothing had changed.“Let’s go home to our son, shall we? And then, you can tell me allabout your secret past, if you want to.”

#Anonymous #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki imagine #loki laufeyson imagine #mcu imagine #marvel imagine #loki #loki laufeyson #mcu #marvel #reader #requests

[multiverseofmiracleshq]

Following the United Nations tragedy, the mutants gathered together at the Kirby Building in New York City with those closest to them to lay their dead to rest. Since Krakoa has no cemeteries and there were no bodies to bury, it was a sorrowful goodbye to a group who shouldn’t have had to go.

THIS IS THE OFFICIAL COMPLETE CHAT LOG COVERAGE OF THE IC

ERIK: So, how was he supposed to approach this? Erik had gone back and forth for hours, trying to figure out what version of himself he should present at the funeral. He was a leader. He was feared. He was.. different. Before, he would never have cared this much about what people were expecting from him. Magneto would be what he chose to be and people would have to deal with it. But there was so much loss, and for the first time in a very very long time he was acutely aware of it. He felt it and saw it in the faces of the people around him. And he felt it in his chest. It was pain like this that he had cut himself off from for decades. It made him feel stronger-- the fact that he could choose what not to feel. But was he stronger now? Was he stronger for being honest with himself? That was still up for debate. "Thank you all for coming." He interrupted the soft chatter of the people gathered together. As they settled down, his eyes glossed over everyone huddled together in their various groups. Friends. Family. "Like all of you, it pains me that we are here today. The mutants on Krakoa have prided ourselves on the very fact that funerals would come only once in a blue moon. For decades, our people have been targeted. Killed. Taken from us far too soon from the world we so rightfully exist in. So we found a way to bend the rules to our will, and make it so that our people could live life on their own terms, and for as long as they wished to live it. This should never have happened." He took a pause, took in a breath. "I have lost daughters. We have lost friends and family. And while most of us here have been touched by death before, it never gets easier. So I will leave you with this: for the ones we have lost, we must strive to do better. To be better. In their memory, we will fight harder. But tonight, let us put aside our hostility and our anger and let ourselves breathe. If I had to guess, it's what they would have wanted."

REMY: The morning had been almost unbearable. Remy had gone through the motions — getting Dawn up, fed, changed, dressed. It would be the last time he saw her for a while, if ever again. The once bubbly, bouncy girl had started crying, a constant plea for a mother that wouldn’t return. The news of the resurrection process had been the final nail in the coffin for him, and Marcos would be meeting him at the funeral and taking Dawn with him. That way, Remy could mourn in a way that didn’t adhere to responsibilities and with her father, Dawn might find some peace. The house was quiet as he’d gotten dressed out of a box, having pulled the last of his clothes off of hangers and out of drawers the night before. That had been his last night in the bed they’d shared and as he gathered his meager belongings and Dawn, Remy shut the door behind him and couldn’t stand to look back. They’d chosen a beautiful spot to host it, but he didn’t really notice. Only heard the soft chattering among groups as he hung back until Marcos arrived and took Dawn from him. She was too small to really understand what was happening — and only seemed to register that her father was there, ready to console her for the news that would come eventually. When she was old enough to understand. By the time Erik had spoken, Remy had already nursed the flask he’d stored in his coat pocket, back to something he’d managed to reign in when he and Lorna had gotten serious about his role in Dawn’s life. It had been a requirement, but now Dawn was with Marcos and Lorna was dead, so what was the point?

RAHNE: Of all the souls the universe had to steal from her, it had to be Dani and Sam. Her family. Never expecting tragedies like this to hit so close to home, Rahne couldn’t help but feel somewhere deep down that everything was her fault. Sure, there was no legitimate justification to her feelings, but the voice in her head - the one that sounded a lot like Reverend Craig - served as a persistent reminder that she could have done much much better. Maybe she could have saved them — if she’d been better. But moments like this ( funerals - or memorials, at the very least ), however soul-sucking they felt, were necessary. They helped the spirits of the deceased pass on. And if there was anything Rahne wanted left in the world, it was for her friends to be able to do just that - despite the gnawing in her gut that reminded her resurrection was possible, just not right now. Dani and Sam at least deserved this. But as she let her thoughts get the best of her, Rahne was having increasingly more and more trouble paying attention to those speaking. It was Erik right now. The pain in his voice was evident, and her heart ached in sympathy with his.

EMMA: Magneto was telling them to be better. Out of all of the people in the world, the mutant ‘terrorist’ was speaking with sympathetic eyes and a diplomats tongue. They had slipped into some kind of strange alternate reality where the earth was no longer spinning on its axis. It had been nudged ever so slightly to the side and now they were unable to right it. Emma had never been good at accepting no as an answer. Winston Frost had dealt them with a heavy hand and Emma had been too meek to rail as hard as she could against them. The flat chested brunette with glasses and insecurity had been gone so long that most didn’t know she ever existed. There were no pictures or home movies. Just the slight hum of insecurity that occasionally flared up under Emma’s breastbone and reminded her how human she was. No matter bulletproof she pretended to be, at the end of the day Emma was capable of shattering and in that moment she was splintering. Not that it would be obvious. Thigh high boots, skintight skirt that barely cleared her ass  -- it all served a purpose. It made her feel strong when she felt weak and right then she felt very, very, weak. Arriving to the funeral of her lovers wife on his arm may have seemed strange to some but Emma and Scott had long since surpassed norms or standards. He could mourn Jean. The two Stepford Cuckoos present were haunted by the three daughters that Emma had lost. She loved them, but there was a weight in her heart where Kate had once resided. There were too many ghosts now, Emma mused as she tossed back her second - third?? - flute of champagne. The clinking of the glass hitting the table coincided with the final note of Erik’s little speech. “I loathe this.” Emma signaled with one black polished hand for another glass. “I expect someone to be drunk, sad and stupid and you, Scott Summers, are to ensure that it is not me.”

LAURA: It would be redundant to say that Laura was familiar with death. Her mind had learned to process at a ( too ) young age and ever since then had known how to compartmentalize and move on. It had been a long time but some still stung more than others. Her role that night wasn’t to be a babysitter, per se, but she didn’t plan on drinking her sorrows away. That seemed to be the job of others. Instead, she turned her nose at the bitter strains of the alcohol everyone seemed to be drinking and kept an eye out for Logan while making her way to Remy. “They said we would never attend a funeral again.”

CABLE: There was no standard definition of family that Nathan Summers had ever latched onto. It was a skewed concept to him-- a product of being thrown into a foreign time, taken away from everything he should have been able to learn about and love as he grew. And there was a big difference between parents and people who raised you. Nate was raised to be a fighter, because that was the only thing he could be. He needed to fight for his life from the very start. He needed to fight to make his way in a harsh and unwelcome reality. He was raised well enough, but there were no parents for him 1600 years in the future. His parents were in the here and now, the 21st century. He had bounced around through time, passing through. But eventually, he stayed. And it was because of them-- his parents. Because after all his mistakes, after showing them how two decades of life becoming a time-traveling super-soldier could make someone harsh and brash and not easy to love-- they wanted to love him anyway. Nate had heard all about families and that kind of love, but actually feeling it? That changed him. While Erik spoke, Nate barely registered anything he was saying. The words became muddled in his ears as his thoughts wandered to Jean-- his real mother in all ways that mattered-- and how horribly bitter and angry he was that she was gone. The chatter started back up and Nathan looked up as things came into focus again. He saw his father, Emma at his side. Maybe it would have been proper to greet Scott, seeing as they were the ones left behind. But Nate couldn't get his feet to move. Unconsciously he shifted in place, his shoulder gently leaning into Lana next to him. He wanted to talk, but he didn't know what to say. He hated being angry. He hated being sad. But he was thankful that he at least wasn't alone.

SCOTT: Emma had stood before him, readjusting his tie, the silence lingering between them as they’d finished getting ready at her palace. They hadn’t said much — Scott had just continued to look at her through a pair of glasses he’d swapped his visor out for. The past few days, since the arrest of Osborn and since he’d carried Emma here again, for the second time in two months, they’d been quiet around each other, both respectively mourning a loss. Despite knowing that they had the ability to resurrect once they secured Eve and Hope, it was still a tough reality to wrap your mind around. And then they’d heard the news. Eve and Hope had disappeared off of Cerebro’s radar. They’d been presumed dead. The air was heavier today and Scott couldn’t shake it. Jean had died before. Jean had died without an idea of resurrection before, but with baby Charles, with the life they were building, with their home, this time just felt — different. They’d both left her palace and arrived at the Kirby building with only a small conversation passed between them. They’d walked in together and Scott had stared straight ahead, but the hand he had on Emma’s squeezed periodically. He needed her now in a way he never had before. As Emma finished her third glass, Scott placed it on a passing tray and grabbed a fresh one, setting it down in front of her. “Wouldn’t be you with or without my intervention.” he replied. “I thought the funerals were over.” he said softly to himself.

TEDDY: In the lives they chose to lead, death was always circling. Yet it somehow still didn’t feel real that he was gone. Just days ago they’d been laughing, curled up in either of their rooms—escaping the chaos of the world spinning wildly out of control around them. And now he was gone. Worse, any hope of bringing him back died with him and it hurt more than anything he’d experienced, so much he could barely breathe. Erik’s words rang through his ears yet he zoned out of the speech midway through. He’d been crying for days, yet the tears kept rolling in, no matter how exhausted he was. He hadn’t been in this world very long but he knew Billy had been the love of his life—and he only got two years with him before he was ripped away. He didn’t want to move on, he didn’t want to even consider a future with anyone else, he wanted to go back to a week ago and hold him again. He wanted to wake up that morning and not let him get out of bed so he was never anywhere near that explosion to begin with. Inhaling with a shaky breath he blinked through a heavy stream of tears. “I can’t do this.” he turned to Kate abruptly. “I can’t.”

REMY: He’d emptied the flask at some point during Erik’s speech and now he reached for a passing glass. Champagne, it looked like. What an inappropriate choice. Looking down at it, he almost handed it back, but that nagging pull at the base of his skull had him finishing it too, just as Laura approached. “T’ey lied.” he grumbled, abandoning the glass somewhere, he didn’t care. “T’ey have servers passing around champagne like it’s a celebration, but no open bar.” his mismatched eyes swung to meet Laura’s. “So what are we celebratin’ then.”

ILLYANA: She always wore black so it wasn’t much of a stretch for Illyana to dress for the occasion. Mourning had never really been her thing but some of the dead were teammates, the other her best friend ( who had nearly become her sister in law ) she hadn’t done the best at keeping up with. Krakoa made them feel like they had all the time in the world when it had suddenly become very apparent that they didn’t. Of all the people there it was Emma and Scott that Illyana was strangely the closest with. They had served as the core of Nation-X before splintering apart. While Illyana knew she could join them she opted to leave the two be and instead found herself near Rahne. “So we have this thing called resurrection,” she glanced down at her friend. “But when we need it for people we care about, it’s gone. чушь собачья.”

PIETRO: Listening to Erik drone on about loss like he had any place to miss Wanda when, in his opinion, he barely knew her, was beyond irritating. Perhaps his anger was misguided, yet it was far easier to channel it at one individual than attempt a trapeze act between miserable, devastated, and furious. There was a large part of him that wanted to die along with her. It didn’t feel right existing in a world where she didn’t—and another part of him wondered how the hell she’d done it when the roles were reversed. He took an angry swig of his ale and stayed leaned against a tree near the back of the group. His method of coping had essentially been to stay belligerently drunk for the better part of the last 72 hours. With the news of any hope of a resurrection slipping right through their fingers he was finding little reason to stay alive.

KATE: “Hey, hey.” Kate hadn’t really been listening to the speech but as soon as Teddy was turning Kate was moving to wrap her arms around her friend. He was taller and broader but she had always had long arms. Helped with the archery thing. “I know.” Her voice was quiet. “I know. But we have to. You have to. This is one of those times when we have to be strong when we don’t think we can. But we’re going to help you, okay?” Kate pulled back to tilt her heads upwards to look at his. “Me, America, everyone. We love you.”

RAHNE: Rahne let out a bitter chuckle, glancing at her feet, “Sounds about right. Not t’ sound like a pessimist, well - given the situation - but nothin’ ever wants to go our way, right? It’s all one big, cosmic joke.” She turned to face Illyana, tears welling beneath dark eyes. For a brief moment, they glowed yellow, but the light was quickly extinguished, “—I should’ve been there instead.”

ILLYANA: “You weren’t invited.” Illyana shook her head sharply. “I was. But it would not make a difference in the end. They’re gone.”  They were gone and they couldn’t bring them back. Illyana couldn’t hide her bitterness -- nor she did want to. “They’re gone and we’re here. What will you do with that?”

ALEX: Alex refused to stand too close near any others at the funeral; ( He debated even coming at all, but several had urged him to - for your own good, Alex. ) for personal reasons, and because even if he couldn’t see the bastard - he was almost positive Sinister was breathing down his neck at all times, urging him to be on his best behavior. That put him somewhere out on the perimeter, near a slowly unraveling Pietro. “You know, I was gonna ask if you wanted company, but then I realized you don’t have much of a choice,” he let out a curt laugh, leaning against an adjacent tree.

RAHNE: Rahne couldn’t meet Illyana’s eyes again. You bloody coward, a voice in her head chided. The other girl was clearly very angry - and that, juxtaposed with Rahne’s ever-flowing fountain of guilt, didn’t seem to be leading anywhere good. She didn’t have an answer to Illyana’s question, at least not a good one, so she folded her arms over her chest and shrugged, putting all her energy into slowing her heartbeat, “Don’t know.”

CRYSTALIA: It was the worst timing in the entire world. Once again, everything seemed to be burning down like a wildfire with no way to extinguish it. It wasn’t about her but Crystalia had found herself with a myriad of personal problems. Her abdication of the throne had been fast and unexpected but after a tense conversation with her sister and brother in law they had agreed to step back in. Crystalia spent her nights adjusting to her normal and mornings sick to her stomach. It hadn’t been hard to figure out and the physicians had urged her to reach out and make contact with the one person she had been with ( even if she refused to name him ) to see where he stood. The funeral of his twin sister seemed to be horrible place to do so but Crystalia had been invited and he had been hard to get a hold of otherwise. Dressed in the appropriate black with the dark ring still dyed in back of her strawberry locks, the Inhuman cut through the crowd to where Pietro stood with a mutant she hadn’t seen before. The smell of the spirits he was clutching made bile rise in her throat, but she just smoothed her skirt down instead. “I need to speak with you. It’s important.”

LOGAN: "Nothin' good." Logan was staring down at his glass of champagne as he walked over to Laura and Remy. His steps felt slow and heavy, and the bubbly stuff in his glass had never been to his liking. If he was going to drink, he preferred it to not be fizzy. But it was what it was. Nothing about this event would be good, not even if he tried to pretend it was. "Never been good at funerals or parties. But no matter where they serve it, champagne sucks." Small talk. Logan wasn't good at small talk either, and yet the words coming out of his mouth was boring and ridiculous bullshit. It was better than talking about the mess of thoughts and feelings he was currently trying to tackle down.

LAURA: Logan and Remy were, objectively, the two most important people in Laura’s life and they had both lost the person they loved. There were a lot of condolences but none of them really amounted to much. Logan and Remy knew that Laura was sorry for their loss. It went without saying. Light eyes moved from one man to the other, lingering on their glasses. “That may be on purpose. They said they’re going to try and do something.” Something, as in anything, to fix it.

PIETRO:  His azure hues slowly slide over to the the man he only vaguely knew as Alex Summers. On any other day he might be civil, if Wanda were there to shoot an unapproving look or nudge him with a quick jab of her elbow, he might find it in him to feign nice. Yet his mood is terribly sour and unfortunately the next words to tumble out of his mouth would be rude. “Was that supposed to be a joke?” He took another swig of his drink. “It was terrible.” He muttered. The only thing more miserable than the funeral was having to endure it in slow motion. As Crystalia approached, he was actually relatively pleased to see her. They’d only spent a short time together but he was far more fond of her than most. Though her serious tone immediately shook what little nerves he had left “Excuse me, Alex.” He nodded to the Summers brother and gently placed a hand at the small of Crys’ back, guiding her to a more secluded location. “What’s wrong?”

LANA: Even though she had been doing the mutant song and dance for a while now there were times when Lana still felt horribly out of place. She hadn’t really known any of the mutants who had died. She had been killed by Magneto once upon a time but now he was giving some kind of eulogy. What happened was @#$@# up. There was literally no way around it. Jean Grey was a name that carried weight in the mutant world but Lana had sat at her kitchen table and had dinner with her son. She had watched Nate play with his brother and very hesitantly joined in because even though babies scared Lana it was clear that Nate adored his brother. That’s why she was attending: for Nate. Her hand was tangled up in his metal one as they entered the room and looked around. “It’s really beautiful.” Her voice was quiet. “Thank you for letting me come with you. Nate, I’m...” she pursed her lips, head shaking. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

ILLYANA: “Not a good answer.” The blonde tapped Rahne on the top of the head. “I plan on raising hell. Seems more productive than crying, no?” Illyana was sad but she was also angry and it was easier to feed that wolf. She needed that to carry her through this.

TEDDY: Teddy let himself sink into her, nodding as she spoke. He took several deep breathes, trying to calm himself enough that he didn’t have a total meltdown right then and there. “I know.” he said. “I love you guys too. I just can’t believe this is still real. I keep thinking I’m gonna wake up from this shitty nightmare and he’ll be laying on the other side of the bed with his hair sticking up in fifteen directions asking me whats wrong.” he sniffled, trying to wipe his face and blink back watery vision. “But this is it. We can’t even bring him back.”

YOUNG JEAN: Funerals for Jean Grey were a dime a dozen. It felt wrong to see her name printed on the programs and spoken aloud, but Jean had to remind herself that she was alive and it was a different version of her who had died. Again. She had cried a decent amount over the entire thing but by the time Jean arrived her eyes were dry. Feeling out of place at her own funeral, Jean had eventually made her way over to Erik without even realizing it. “I miss her.” She admitted. “And I know you must miss them too. I’m sorry.”

ALEX: An eyeroll was the only response he could muster to Pietro’s clipped reply. Clearly, the woman ( one whom he vaguely recognized as part of the Inhuman royal family ) had something dire to discuss with Alex’s unwilling conversation partner. So the grieving Summers brother nodded at the duo, before watching them leave, as he remained behind - the back of his suit jacket dirtied by tree bark.

ORORO: Ororo had learned to control her emotions from a young age. A slip in the pendulum swinging too far one way or the next and the atmosphere could light ablaze. It was a heavy weight on her shoulders indeed, but in cases like this it helped her hold it together. The loss they’d suffered was deep, and it struck within their community for so many. She was filled with devastation and anger for the blatant attack on their people, yet she was also determined to get to the bottom of it. “Don’t mind him,” Ro said, approaching Alex. She’d just caught the tail end of the conversation. “Pietro’s never nice to anyone aside from his sister.” she glanced at the white haired young man as he walked away with the Inhuman girl, interest piqued at the nature of that relationship. “How are you holding up?” she asked Alex.

REMY: “W’at are we even burying.” he said bitterly, the anger and sadness a swirling blizzard inside of him. He really hated the taste of champagne and he hated that his tolerance was to a point that he was still bitterly sober and entirely tired of funerals. “Holding a funeral for nothin’ but ash.”

EMMA: Her nails were digging into his palm. It had to hurt but Scott hadn’t said anything so Emma had just kept at it, black filed points meeting flesh. Scott had been as dashing and heroic as ever ( he veered sharply between golden boy prince charming and too intense extremist ) and had not only carried her home but also called the physician she kept at the ready. It was a concussion. A bad one, exasperated by the rush of using her powers directly after. Rest, rest and no alcohol had been prescribed but here Emma was pounding back champagne after not sleeping for two days. “One would think, but I am so completely and utterly tired of this dreadful bullshit.” It wasn’t just the funeral she was referencing. It was this entire situation they were now trapped in. She downed the glass as well before pinching at her nose slightly, mouth scrunched. “Paradise is lost. They fooled us well, didn’t they, darling?”

RAHNE: Rahne flinched slightly as Illyana’s hand came in contact with her head. “Who said anythin’ about cryin’?” she protested, tone defiant despite the sniffle she couldn’t suppress. Swiping a sleeve of her black sweater over her eyes, Rahne glanced up at her friend, fearful but curious, “You know tha’s not really my speed, but I’m in. Wha’ever you need me t’do, just say it.”

CABLE: Was it beautiful? Up until this point, Nate hadn't really paid attention to anything around him. Once he heard Lana's comment he made an effort to take a good look around him, brows pinched together like he was concerned he would miss something important. After a few seconds he stopped, almost like the effort of taking it all in was too much effort right now. He didn't comment back about how nice the location was-- even though he agreed with her from what he saw-- and instead let out a sigh. He felt her hand in his and relaxed a bit, letting the physical contact connect and ground him to the moment. He was grateful Lana was here. He loved her for so many reasons and for a moment Nate focused on that feeling instead of the aching pain in his chest. "You're here with me." When he finally spoke, his voice was even quieter than hers. "That's enough. Thank you." For once, Nathan was wearing a nice suit-- not the body suit he stuck himself in practically everyday. It wasn't the first time he had dressed up, but this style still felt so foreign to him. He didn't feel like himself. His hair was even different-- devoid of it's usual spunk and instead laying flat against his forehead. The tuft of white was hidden underneath the brown but peaked out slightly when he ran a few fingers through it. "I want to go home and see Charlie. But then I remember she won't be there with him, and.." He shook his head. "Nothing feels real. I think it was easier when we were the ones who died, instead of them."

ALEX: Alex shifted slightly as Ororo approached, making room should she so choose to lean against the same tree. Despite the apprehension he felt at the moment toward being near anyone for fear of causing harm, Ororo’s presence was immediately much more comfortable - and he knew the woman had very few reasons to worry about Alex, so why should he worry in her stead? The question, while expected, caught him somewhat off guard and he stumbled to find an answer, “I- Holding up? Not sure what you mean by that.” His tone was light, humor masking hurt.

CRYSTALIA: Even though Inhumans tended to be low in the alcoholism field, Crystal could sense that he was drunk. You really only needed eyes to tell. His hand was on her back as guided the two towards a more secluded side. She had been nervous before but now it was intensifying. “You remember that we -- spent the night together, correct?” a pause. “Can you manage a conversation right now?”

KATE: “He really did have terrible hair.” Kate joked lightly even though they both knew it wasn’t true. “Look, the mutants are waving the white flag but for months they’ve been talking about this amazing island they’re building. My boyfriend’s a mutant. I can try and talk to him, see if he knows anything. I can’t believe they’d just quit like this.”

PIETRO: His brows furrowed deeply and he had to focus on her intensely to follow her words but he could manage. It helped she was speaking slowly in his perspective. “Yes—and yes.” he answered. “of course i remember, we had a lot of fun—did we not?” Despite the inebriation and absolute misery he still found room to be flirtatious. Some things never died.

ERIK: A soft look of surprise had glossed over him when Erik turned to Jean and realized it was her. He blinked quickly a few times, clearing the fog in his mind before he answered her. "I do." He replied with a nod. "I find myself questioning whether or not I have a right to miss them as everyone here is missing the people they care about. That's what comes with having a complicated relationship with grief. And with the people I am grieving." It never failed to surprise him how easy it was to be open with Jean. Even with their relationship currently in a less than ideal state, he trusted her. That never changed. And he was glad she was willing to speak to him. "How are you holding up, Jean?"

SCOTT: “It’s not their fault.” He defended automatically, even though he understood that Emma was attacking no one. At least, no one he should be defending. “We let our defenses down and we didn’t handle Osborn the way we should. We tried to be diplomatic. We tried to stave off war.” The anger was cold, numbing. “We should have killed him the minute he became president.”

CRYSTALIA: “Yes, we had a lot of fun.” Crystal couldn’t help the blush that flushed her cheeks. She had never looked good when blushing. It put her hair and face too close together in color. “We had a lot of fun and maybe not a lot of precaution? I haven’t been feeling well. With everything going on I haven’t been able to see you, and my doctors wanted to confirm it first.”

ORORO: Ororo crossed her arms and tilted her head at Alex “You lost people, I want to know how you’re doing.” she continued. Deflection was a go to for many of them, admittedly even for herself, but there was no sense in it at the moment. If he wished to talk she was tossing him a line.

ILLYANA: “Your tear ducts. Maybe.” She had cried alone and that was how Illyana preferred it. Rahne had always been more sensitive. Maybe it was all of the repressed Catholic guilt. “We are going to find a new speed. I’m accepting a mission tomorrow. I can’t sit here and be sad. When did you last talk to Dani?”

PIETRO: Pietro’s altered state of mind meant he was sloppy, not stupid—he was piecing it together, yet he was hoping what he was assuming and what she was saying were very different things. “At the risk of being terribly rude, could you please spit it out.” He felt a sharp rise in anxiety as the seconds ticked on. His eyes flashed down to her abdomen and then back to hers. “Are you saying you’re...” He trailed waiting for her to fill in the blanks.

LOGAN: "From what I gathered, there's no other something to be done." Logan scoffed, taking a large gulp of the horrible drink in his hand and making a face of disgust as he did. He turned to Remy. "You and I might not be fans of the funeral thing, but everyone else seems to need this. What did you expect them to do? Do nothing just because we don't have their bodies?" He was taking out his feelings on them, and even though he was aware of it, he couldn't stop it. It was easy to argue when he was pissed off and depressed.

EMMA: Her gaze was rock hard as Emma glared at the crowd for a moment. “I wanted to, lest you forget. I wanted to topple his whole empire the moment he violated me. They twisted my mind, humiliated me and then they had to take my children?” Emma hated the fact that her voice cracked. She turned to hide her face, the waiter she’d telepathically ordered to stay near delivering her another glass. “I don’t really care whose fault it is, Scott. Not at this point.”

CRYSTALIA: “I’m pregnant.” Crystalia blinked, finding no relief in her admission. “I’m pregnant.” There, she had said it twice. Still didn’t feel any better. “It’s so soon but the physician said it’s growing incredibly fast and that’s probably your fault. Not that they know it’s yours.” The fault  of the father, they had said. Her abdomen looked the same as always even though there was something apparently taking root inside. It terrified her. “I thought you should know.”

PIETRO: He blinked...several long, agonizing seconds ticked by and for the first time in three days his mind was not consumed with the loss of his sister. It was instead jolted into a stream of panicked thoughts. “They don’t know its mine because it could be someone else’s?” He asked quickly.

LAURA: As Remy began to wax poetic and Logan seemed to grow more pissed off Laura crossed her arms over her chest. The dress was scratching her skin and it nagged at the corner of her mind. Of course there were no bodies. They had been blown up. Neither Jean or Lorna’s children were orphans but Laura still felt the sharp bite of losing a mother. “Logan,” she turned to her father slightly. “How are you? Actually.”

ALEX: “I don’t know— not good that’s for sure,” Alex grinned, the expression not fully reaching his eyes. He and Lorna hadn’t been on the best of terms when they last spoke, so her death may have hit a bit harder than normal. Jean’s absence was also a punch in the gut. The two of them had grown closer over the past few months, and while she may have only been his sister-in-law, her loss felt like half of the wind had been stolen from his lungs. Truly, Alex was aimless — and very very unsure of how to articulate this to Ororo. “I- I don’t know what to do with myself.”

CRYSTALIA: Without thinking Crystalia opened her mouth. “You’re the only person I’ve ever been with, so that’s not it.” She had been with Johnny Storm but it had been puppy love. Inconsequential. It wasn’t a secret that she was a virgin but Crystal hadn’t mentioned it and now they were in the thick of it. “They don’t know it’s yours because I didn’t tell them. Medusa asked, but you’re a mutant. Magneto’s son. I’m Princess of Attilan. We’re not exactly on the  best of terms most days.”

RAHNE: Dani. Oh God— Dani. Rahne took a slow, deep breath as clawed nails dug into the palms of her hands, and the urge to sob subsided. A comfortable numbness arose in its place. “What kind of mission?” She asked, one dark brow raised in curiosity, “Could probably use a distraction’. Might be a good thing. For the both of us.”

LOGAN: I'm alone. Logan replied to his daughter in his head but managed to keep it to himself. His eyes darted over to where Scott and Emma were, and his jaw tensed, but he again managed to hold his tongue. Lifting his glass, Logan gulped down the rest of the champagne and found it still as disgusting as the last time. "How do you think I am?" His voice was lower this time. "She's gone. There's no bringin' her back. This is the part where I move on."

YOUNG JEAN: “I get that.” Jean sighed. “I mean, I was so determined to not go to the past I almost got Jean wiped from existence while pregnant. I was so intimidated by her and the idea of being Jean Grey, but I never wanted her dead.” Jean couldn’t really explain what she was feeling. “I know it’s been weird between us lately, but with all this death and stuff... would you want to maybe play chess sometime?” She glanced downwards, red hair slipping from its updo. “Fine, I guess. Debating if I need to raise my future son. How are you?”

PIETRO: Pietro opened his mouth to speak and for once no words came out. “—I—didn’t know that.” he finally managed. She certainly failed to mention that when they’d had sex and now he was more than mildly concerned he should have gone about the whole thing a bit differently. “Forgive me if I’m not up to speed on the politics, but what exactly is wrong with my being a mutant?” He asked. In the background, his brain was still trying to process the fact that she was pregnant and it was his.

ILLYANA: As they spoke one arm crossed over the other as Illyana surveyed the room. “I’m the Combat Captain of Krakoa. Scott’s the Commander but I’m giving him a week.” It seemed like a fitting time to mourn your dead wife. “You want to travel and check the Krakoan gates with me? It is far from exciting, but without Sage we need someone who can easily get to them all. There may be some humans congregating who need to be pushed back. That part could be fun.”

RAHNE: Rahne didn’t have to think — she just nodded, vigorously, red hair bouncing as she did so. “Absolutely. Count me in. Aye aye, Captain,” she punctuated her sentence with an awkward salute before a halfhearted grin crept onto her face. Maybe things would be okay after all.

CRYSTALIA: Crystal’s eyes drifted downwards as he spoke. “I know. I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to ruin the moment. I was happy.” Happy enough that she didn’t want to risk it turning sour. “I never told you that I’m royalty, so I apologize. I didn’t think that that ( sex ) would turn into this ( a baby ). A quick history lesson: Inhumans get our powers from Terrigen Mists. The Mists are poisonous to mutants. As in, kills them. There was a fight over that. One of your own also drowned me and took me hostage when he was possessed with the Phoenix. Our people don’t love one another.”

ILLYANA: “No, no. Don’t call me that.” Illyana shook her head. Rahne would slow her down but it looked like it was something she needed. Besides, they had been friends for a long time. “I wanted to go back to space but apparently the Majestrix wants to stay on Earth. We have to settle.”

ERIK: "Of course you didn't, I know." Erik was trying his hardest to be gentle with her-- especially on the topic of her choice to stay in the present. That event had sent their relationship spiraling again and he didn't wish to dig up their ill feelings. Erik hadn't wanted this Jean to leave, and he wanted her to be safe and happy, but it had been impossible to balance both. Once again, Jean was surprising him. At her chess suggestion, his expression softened dramatically to the point where he was practically smiling. "I would like that. Very much. It's a struggle to find a good partner to play with." Then his face shifted again. "Are you referring to young Charles? It's a tragedy that he is without his mother, but you must not burden yourself with that. You are young, you have your own life, Jean." Erik stopped himself, realizing he might sound a bit insensitive. If there was anyone who shouldn't give advice on how to properly raise kids, it was him. "I am.." How was he? He didn't have the words to describe it. "There is plenty to do, to keep busy. I will focus on that, and hope that things will be better in the future."

LANA: If she could have made it better, she would have. Lana hated feeling useless even if she did often and here was no different. “Of course I am. There’s nowhere else I’d even consider being.” He broke her out of jail and snapped the collar from her neck. How could she abandon him when his mother had died? Seeing him mourn his mom made Lana even more sad that her mother was shit and they’d never had any kind of positive relationship. Nate didn’t deserve this. Jean didn’t deserve this. If she could have swapped her mom for his Lana would have in a heartbeat. “He’s a part of her.” Lana reminded him. “And you are too. I’m glad you have Scott and Charlie and Rachel right now. I’m glad you’re not alone.” Nate needed people who could be there in a way that Lana couldn’t. She turned so that they were chest to chest, bodies close. “Maybe. But they hurt so much when you were gone.” That was the difference between them: Nate had people who missed him. Lana never would. “I didn’t know your mom well but Jean would not want a world without you in it. It doesn’t take a telepath to see how much she loved you.”

YOUNG JEAN: “I never really apologized. I know she knew, but I should have said it and now I never will. I should have let her know.” It had been eating at Jean. That guilt was overriding her previous anger at Erik for not siding with her.  She was here. In the future. Jean had a life and now it seemed so pointless to be holding onto past grudges over it all. When he agreed to a match Jean found she couldn’t smile even if she was relieved. There had to be at least one semblance of comfort or normalcy she could find. Scott had been perfect. He had been patient and gentle but Jean still wanted to scream. “I’m his mother. Technically, genetically, whatever. I don’t want him to not have a mom.” That being said, Jean was only a year over twenty. She had  a lot of lessons still to learn. “I just feel bad, that’s all. Charles keeps cooing when he sees me. It’s  like they had a psychic connection and he knows I’m a part of it.” Every time Jean saw a combination of her and Scott it was weird but it was  beginning to make her heart ache. Jean  had gained Erik’s trust by not reading his mind when she was able to but in this moment it wouldn’t have been necessary. “You’re sad. That’s okay. I am too. Erik,” Jean paused. “Is this really it? Is there nothing we can do?”

SCOTT: “We never learn our lesson, do we.” Scott turned to face Emma fully, his eyes tracing the lines of her face behind his glasses. “It’s our fault, Emma. It’s our fault that mutants walked into a building and didn’t walk back out. We sat idly by and let Osborn and his band of idiots terrorize us. The Avengers. Gen pop.” his mouth had settled into a hard line. “Nation-X wasn’t our proudest moment, but at least we didn’t just let mutants die.”

JULIAN: “I have a name, you know.” Julian said casually as he approached, a set of two glasses in one hand and a loner in the other. He handed one to Kate and then offered Teddy the other, as if he were expecting this conversation. “Take it. You look like you need it.” His eyes moved between the two of them, and for a moment, it seemed like he were debating what came next. “It’s not happening. We’re back to just dying like regular people. No resurrections guaranteed for anyone.”

RAHNE: “Settle how?” Rahne raised an eyebrow, ignoring Illyana’s protests to her unintentional nickname, “Of course they want to stay- cannae make anythin’ simple for us, can they.”

EMMA: There was a scoff, Emma’s lips poised right over the rim of her glass. “Great. Thank you, Scott. I truly needed that soul crushing guilt heaped on my head. It’s my fault then that darling Jeannie is dead? And Kate; my daughters as well? They were adults. Competent, powerful adults. You know this. We operated in the sphere that the Avengers and Council set for us. I would have lobotomized him a long time ago, but it was all we must bide our time, Emma, and we need to get him in the right spot.” Scott wasn’t the one she was angry at. Emma knew that. She just couldn’t keep the resentment from sneaking into her tone. “Yes, well, apparently it’s a fantasy to live in a world where you can be happy and effective. We picked the former this time around. Our mistake.”

TEDDY: “Yeah that much is pretty obvious, but uh—thanks for the reminder. Funeral wasn’t enough.” Teddy replied and debated on accepting the drink. After a moment he took it. Not that it would help but for once it was actually nice of Julian to actually think of someone other than himself or with the incentive of getting laid. But, then again, with Kate right there it was entirely possible he was putting up a good front for her sake.

ILLYANA: “In light of recent events I don’t really want to be in this solar system. So, yes. We’ll settle.” It would have been smart to ask Isabel if she wanted to come with them, but Illyana didn’t want her dead friends wife tagging along. It would ruin any attempts at trying to purge her anger to a more acceptable level. “Little Xandra wanted to reconnect with her father but Charles is missing. Seems pointless to me.”

JULIAN: “Figured the reminder was all around you, considering. Didn’t realize you came to the funeral to escape it all.” He nursed at his own drink, even if he really didn’t have a taste for it.

TEDDY: “Yeah it’s almost like everyones dressed in black and sad.” he said, sipping his own. How Kate managed to date the guy, Teddy would never understand. Julian might be cute from a distance but up close he was like someone threw Pietro and Tommy in the same body and set the asshole dial to 100. “Are you planning on being an ass to the rest of the people here in mourning or am I just special?”

SCOTT: He understood why it was more difficult for Emma to understand why Scott shouldered so much of the blame. Why he thought they all did. In fact, he only took the blame because he was Scott — he didn’t even have a seat on the council. “If we sat back instead of doing something and that resulted in death? Then yeah, it’s out fault.” he instinctively reached out to grab Emma’s hand. “This isn’t meant to make you feel guilty. You should be angry. Sad. That doesn’t change that we should’ve done more and we should have listened less.” But it was so easy to speak retroactively. Scott wasn’t even sure he would have been able to do something other than ordered. “We just do better next time.” the promise was there, even if he wasn’t sure if it were empty. “The mistake we made was believing we were safe in Krakoa.”

CABLE: There was almost no hesitation after Lana moved in front of him-- Nate let himself lean down and set his forehead down on hers. His eyes were closed, jaw tense. Everything was tense. It felt like he would crumble apart if he didn't try to physically hold himself together. It felt strange to admit that he knew his mother loved him. Part of the reason that fact was so easy for him to understand was because he had Madelyne to compare her to-- the woman who gave birth to him didn't care much for him. Jean had taken to him right away and it had been terrifying. But his parents were the reason he had stayed. "Before I got here, they had been doing fine. They had that old version of me. Sometimes I still wonder if they miss him more than they ever missed me." Nate was still holding on to a lot of the resentment and guilt surrounding that day. But it was done. There was no time traveling back to fix it-- too messy. "If I hadn't stayed, right now I would be somewhere and some time far away. Eventually I would learn she was gone but it wouldn't have hurt this much. Or maybe with me not being here it wouldn't have happened at all." He lifted his head, eyes still glued to Lana as he straightened up. He tried to smile. "But if I hadn't stayed, I wouldn't have gotten close to you. And leaving you here without ever getting to kiss me would have been so rude."

KATE: And just like that two worlds were colliding. Kate didn’t mix her boyfriend with her friends for the most part for reasons she found obvious even if they weren’t. America maybe but she was special. “That you do.” She accepted the drink, one arm reaching out to snake around Julian’s waist. Kate was in the middle of a sip when the tone began to shift and she tried to mask slightly choking on the champagne with a weak cough. “Let’s cut this before it goes any further. Teddy’s in mourning. I’m in mourning.” Kate pulled back to tilt her heads upward at Julian. “And we’re all being respectful of that. No one needs to be an ass.”

PIETRO: “That wouldn’t have ruined the moment.” He’d known Crystalia for a short time but he’d begun to care for her. In the past he bounced from fling to fling without thinking about it, but she captivated him in a way that he’d yet to experience before. After her explanation he had an oncoming headache that wasn’t from the ale. He’d somehow managed to not only impregnate her, but she was the princess of a group of people that clashed with mutants. What were the odds? Leave it to him to achieve the impossible. He tucked the information about Namor in the back of his mind and set the bottle down on the ground beside the tree, leaning against it with his shoulder. Pietro sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. This somehow didn’t feel real. “You said it was growing quickly—how quickly?” He couldn’t be all that surprised considering the nature of his abilities and the two of their genetics.

LAURA: He wasn’t alone, but it wasn’t the time to point that out. Even if the words didn’t leave his mouth Laura knew Logan. The two of them would always have that weight tying them to one another no matter how much they grew. And god, Laura had grown. She had grown only because she had clawed her way there one step at a time. “I think me trying to guess would just upset you more. It doesn’t seem right.” Laura took a step back, once again bringing Remy into the fold. She had just needed a second to check on her father before returning her attention to both. “It’s not the Krakoa they promised.” The Krakoa she had wanted to believe in but was so hesitant about because it was an inevitable powder keg. “Magneto and Moira haven’t said anything else?  They’re just folding?”

JULIAN: Julian’s dark eyes travelled down to meet Kate’s and he wanted to ignore the serious glint there, but he knew that would just end worse than some petty squabble with Kaplan’s (ex) boyfriend. Resigning into his glass, Julian shifted back into whatever casual indifference he’d arrived in. “Sorry for your loss.” it was about as close as Teddy would get to an olive branch.

ERIK: Erik let a stifled sigh, jaw tense, and looked away briefly before answering. "Being a part of that child's life does not mean you must take on the responsibility of raising him. It's very selfless of you to even consider it. But Jean-- you have your own life. Do not listen to anyone, not even me." His reply came with a shake of his head. Lately it felt as if he always had too much to say. Or not enough. His mind went almost painfully blank after that-- the whole emotions thing. Maybe he just wasn't built to feel things like everyone else did. He was sad. "I had my chances to be a parent. Many times. If I had the chance to go back and start it all over with my first daughter.. The point is, I shouldn't advise you on baby Charles. But I know you'll do the right thing." There was a pause as he shifted the conversation and cleared his throat. "I don't have an answer for you. But I can't say there isn't a one in a million chance at fixing things somewhere out there. There's always hope." Now he was starting to sound like Charles. Times had certainly changed.

RAHNE: “You’d think that’d be enough of a reason t’ go home,” Rahne shrugged. The presence of the Shi’ar was a truly unique course of events, and Rahne would be lying to herself if she said she’d prefer they stayed. But if Illyana had a way out of this - or at the very least, a way of distracting them from all this, Rahne was ready to leap ( for lack of a better term ) into action.

HANK: Henry had been keeping to himself by and large through all of this. Despite his enormous wealth knowledge and composure very little of that made things any easier. He had just lost one of his oldest friends once again and now Betsy, someone he had been hoping would one day be more than that. Someone he felt at ease around and respect greatly. Now he was just a mess. Fur going every which way from constant nervous picking he meandered aimlessly, with the rare sight of a drink in his hand. "Everything says alcohol is a depressant and does more harm to your emotional state in the long run, but for once I say nay to science. It's making things tolerable.

REMY: “What do you expect them to do?” Remy looked down into the flute and watched the inch of liquid swirl. “It’s out of their hands.” the sadness was thick and heavy in his voice. “Maybe we’re just no’ meant to be happy at the end of the day.”

EMMA: In moments like this they needed to band together, not fall apart. Emma knew that. She was a good businesswoman and an even better teacher. There were a lot of hats she had precariously balanced on blown out roots but in that moment she wanted to set each and every one on fire. No matter how hard her skin became or how unpenetrable her mind was, Emma was made of the same fragile, delicate bones as everyone else and she didn’t break well. For the most part she kept herself buttoned in. The death of Kate she could have stomached with grace. The death of her daughters she could have stomached with composure. In one blow - she knew she could have done more against - it was too much. When Scott reached out her hand danced past his own, first smoothing down a nonexistent flyaway and then grabbing a new flute of champagne. “War is a game of strategy. You pick the one most beneficial. There was no way to know Osborn would cross that line. But that isn’t supposed to make me feel guilty?” Again, a scoff. It was apparently the only sound she was capable of making. “I lost three daughters. Four, almost. We’re to do better next time?*  Next time, when they come  for my remaining two and your sons? I’m grieving. I don’t want to talk about next time. I’m not interested in this game right now.”

ALEX: Through the ebb and flow of conversations, Alex continued meandering around the perimeter of the funeral. As much as he talked about drinking, he was as sober as ever right now, and wow did that suck. But a large, blue figure caught his eye and he approached the other mutant warily, hands reaching out to steady his intoxicated friend, “Woah, hey— take it easy, big guy.”

SCOTT: The hard lines in Scott’s face didn’t soften. “I lost people too, Emma. I failed to keep them alive because I sat on my hands and let people talk. I should have let Nathan take off his head, and I carry that guilt with me. The mother of my child is dead. Again. I feel that, but I can’t be sad about it. I can’t raise my son into a world where his father sits idly by while a madman assassinates us. This isn’t a conversation for now, I agree. But I’m on your side, Emma. It’s fine if we don’t agree about the reality of the situation.”

STRANGE: The doctor walked the perimeter. Despite being invited he still felt that this wasn't his place. Dressed in a black suit and gloves - his hands were still a sensitive spot - he tried to not interfere in their mourning. They were a community, a family in both literal and figurative means. He was not a part of that. He was here because of the tragic loss of Wanda. His student and dear friend. If only he had better prepared her or done more maybe she'd be fine. It took everything he had not to astral project into the various lands of the dead to track her down and have on last chat, so for now, he nod and try not to make things too much about himself.

LOGAN: As Laura stepped a twang of guilt hit him and briefly, the tense lines on his face softened. But they reappeared quickly enough, and he let out another scoff after Remy was done. "And you think I'm a downer." He had been thinking the same thing, but up until then hadn't said it out loud. "He's got a point there. What else is there to do?"

HANK: "That's what I'm attempting to do, Alexander. Take it easy. What is more easy than drinking away travesty and devastation? Or would you prefer me to remain the stiff and ever composed professor?" He said, his tone starting to sharpen as his body shifted towards Alex, his fangs peeking out ever so slightly before catching himself and partially composing himself. "I'm... I apologize, Alex. That wasn't fair of me."

JIMMY: He wanted to say something. Be a part of the healing for everyone, but he just wasn't good enough. At empathy, at helping others, at anything. Besides, he felt at least partially responsible for all of this. He was being controlled by the enemy and hurt the people he called friends and family, so now here he was. In a ragged suit sitting in the grass away from everyone. He had never really felt much of a true member of the troop, but now with his original memories back and being involved in imprisoning some of them he felt he had little right. So here he would stay, alone and watching. Repressing his own grief and emotions until his next violent outburst.

CRYSTALIA: It was nice to know that on this side of things. Her nerves and anxieties had all been internal. After her rushed history lesson Crystal moved to the bench next to the tree and sat down, carefully arranging the folds of her black skirt around her. The dress was loose fitting. Even if she wasn’t showing the nausea was enough to dissuade her from anything tight. Pietro was processing. Crystal had to remind herself that she had sprung this on him at his twin sisters funeral. She hadn’t really understood how close they were, but it was still bad. If he was upset it wasn’t only aimed at her. So, instead of melting down internally, she just focused on breathing carefully. “I feel so stupid. Getting pregnant during the first -- we tried to be safe.” It was a halfhearted reassurance to herself. “We were together a week and a half ago. Roughly. My physicians said I was five weeks along. I told them that wasn’t possible.”

ALEX: Alex immediately took a step backward, letting go of Hank— er, Henry - sometimes his mind had a hard time differentiating between the two; for they were two entirely different people despite being the same person. One thing Alex always understood, more-so now than any other time in his life, was the importance of boundaries, and if he was pushing past the other mutant’s without thinking, maybe it was best to step back. Holding up both hands in a gesture of surrender, Alex was quick to apologize, “No, you’re right. People are grieving. There isn’t anything wrong with what you’re doing.”

LANA: Whenever they were close Lana always had to stand slightly on her toes to try and meet him in the middle. He always ended up bending down more but she liked to feel like she was contributing. For a moment Lana just stood there with Nate, breathing slowly and giving him a moment to try and process. If she was a telepath she would have had all the answers. Instead she felt clunky and unsure of what she could say that  wouldn’t be the wrong thing. “I don’t want to be rude, but wasn’t your mom dead before you came? And your dad kind of a terrorist? They may have had the older you, but life has been better since you’ve been here, Nate.” Lana wasn’t used to being the supporting type for such a long stretch. She wanted to toss in an expletive to alleviate the situation but it wouldn’t have helped. “I don’t have the answer for you. I’m going to tell you that they miss him but they love you. I’m not good at this whole family stuff, you know? There’s no way for you to know at this point. You’re here. You’ve been here. That’s been done, and the world is better for it. I’m not saying that because I like to kiss you. That’s only a tiny part of it.” As they moved apart Lana gave him a small smile. “You’re a saint, Nate Summers. Thanks for not leaving me in the lurch.”

YOUNGER JEAN: At his words Jean shook her head with a small chuckle. “I don’t listen to anyone. That’s why I’m still here and not hanging out in the past waiting to get blown up one day.” Too soon? Maybe, but it felt good to say. “Anya.” The name was spoken quietly. Jean had been in his head. Erik had shown her all of the tragedies that formed the mosaic of his history. She had cried for him then, but this time they were both in mourning. “I doubt Scott’s just going to let me take over baby care taking, but I don’t know. The last time I was around him and Jean was dead was the Nation-X mess. I haven’t heard stellar reviews of him as a dad.” Which was actually a little concerning since she was dating Scott again. Her heart sank at his words. Not a complete no but it wasn’t reassuring. “How could this have happened? I thought we had back-up plan after back-up plan.”

HANK: "I appreciate that but I've overstepped." He said making the conscious decision to pour out his drink onto the ground. "We've all been through a lot as of late and you aren't excluded from that. I was being insensitive of that."

ILLYANA: “I don’t get aliens.” Mutants, some. Demons, definitely. Humans most certainly not. Her eyes scanned the group that was milling about. Henry was looking drunk and talking to Alex. She wanted to prod the latter but with Beast there she would resist. Noticing Jimmy sitting alone, Illyana nodded her head once in a wordless invite before moving towards him. “Hey, lover boy. You look happy to be here.”

LAURA: Unsure of what exactly to say, Laura reached into her pocket to remove the metal flask she was hoping to avoid breaking out. “Stronger than champagne,” she offered up as she held it out to Logan. Remy seemed to be doing well with his own poison. “Do you believe that?” She asked Remy. “You used to tell me something different.” That was then. The days when Laura crawled out of her own skin and couldn’t find a way past the cemetery that had taken root in her mind. She could learn to be happy. It wasn’t decided for her. “I think you are both downers but it’s warranted. Today, at least. You loved them and now they’re gone.” In Logan’s case Jean wasn’t fully his to lose. Did that make it worse?

REMY: Remy watched Laura’s movements idly and uninvolved. It was hard to be present, when his mind kept reaching back into the moments before Lorna walked into that building. They’d talked about it and it hadn’t been a debate. He’d really had no opinion, just a mild curiosity. How incredibly ineffective he felt as someone Lorna was supposed to be able to depend on. “I’ve lost her twice.” Laura was not the shoulder Remy had even chosen to lean on. Usually, it was the other way around, him being the voice of reason, the one who always reminded Laura there was more to life than what had happened to her. Now, he wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. “Even with t’e promise of resurrection, I didn’t want to chance it. Too much uncertainty, no matter how many times t’ey brought people back. An’ now look. I’m having a hard time seein’ the positives here.”

CABLE: One shoulder lifted in a shrug. "Every family has their problems." She had a point. Things were a mess before he arrive. But they had also been a mess after he showed up and they were still a mess right now. The problem was figuring out which mess was the worst. Right now, Nate was sure that the answer was this mess. "Yeah. I'm sorry, I know this stuff isn't easy for you either. I don't.. I dunno, want to drudge anything up for you. One of us being miserable is enough." A single tear managed to escape and roll down his cheek, which he wiped away immediately with a huff of sad laughter. "That's what they call me: Saint Nate. I almost like that better than Cable. Or Bable which just.. no." Hopefully Wade wasn't spreading that nickname around.

EMMA: “Then mourn, Scott. Stop thinking about what we should have done. I love you.” There they were, words rarely spoken aloud and certainly never in public. It was uttered in the heat of the moment when their bodies were stuck together or when they were lying in the dark, shoulder to shoulder with the blackness allowing the words to float above them. Emma had said it in his minds hundreds of time, passing the thought from one to the other. They said it but only when it counted. Emma loving Scott was a private affair but her emotions were bleeding off of her now and she didn’t want to be coy. “I love you, and if you love me you will mourn with me right now. Your son is mourning too. Look at him,”  Emma turned to see Nate and the girl he kept toting around. “I can feel that he’s sad as well. He needs a father right now, not a tactician. And I need you. Can we smear the line in the sand for right now, darling? I don’t ask you for much.” Demanded maybe but never really asked.

LOGAN: Eyes moved to the flask being offered to him, lingered there, and then he took it from her. Laura had planned better than he had, it looked like. A secret stash of alcohol wasn't something he should be proud of her for though-- even if it was something he wish he would have thought of. "Stop trying then." Yup. The perfect solution: just stop. "There are no positives here. It'll be better for you in the long run if you just stop trying to look for that silver lining or whatever other crap you hope is there."

SCOTT: Scott lowered his head and rubbed his eyes from behind his glasses, a feeling he kept refusing to process rushing through him in a wave. He didn’t want to mourn. He didn’t want to sit here and cry and be sad like the rest of them. He wanted to figure out his next move and analyze his last ones. He wanted to know where he went wrong so this wouldn’t happen again. But then Emma kept speaking and Scott couldn’t help but look up and over at Nathan and then at her. He tried to focus on her. “We’ll figure it out, won’t we.” he tried to let the tension out of his shoulders. “You know I do, Emma. Love you. You just know it isn’t easy for me to just...feel all of this.”

LANA: Lana resisted the urge to snort. “You really don’t need to tell me that.” Not that what she and Lori had could even be considered family at this point. The last time they had seen each other the elder Bombshell had been attempting to abduct her daughter and force her into a life of crime once more. Lana had refrained from attending her sentencing or visiting her in prison. But this wasn’t about her, was it? “Am I doing that badly? I’m really afraid of @#$@# this up or saying the wrong thing. I want to make your life better, not worse.” Lana glanced down. “It’s not. Don’t worry. I’m not easily triggered. I accepted all the @#$@# with my mom a long time ago.”  It wasn’t totally a lie either. Even though he wiped the tear away Lana still reached up to brush his cheek. “Does it make you feel better to know that you look good while crying? I don’t, so I think hearing that would make me feel .0005% better.” Her nose scrunched. “Who the @#$@# calls you Bable?”

TEDDY: “Thanks.” Teddy said, it was about as genuine as Julian’s condolences. He offered a thankful smile to Kate and gently tapped her glass with his. He was more than grateful for her right now.

KATE: Glass connecting with Teddy’s, Kate flashed Julian a thankful smile. “Should we all have a toast? In honor of those we lost.” She felt shitty standing there with her boyfriend when Teddy’s had literally just died, but Kate needed Julian in that moment. “Thank you,” she mouthed to him.

ALEX: Alex’s inner frat boy cringed as the alcohol spilled out onto the grass, but he just as quickly acknowledged Henry’s apology, despite the self-deprecating goblin inside his brain furiously attempting to keep him from doing so. “Thanks- man. ‘preciate that.”

LAURA: “I’m disappointed.” Laura really did not want to be giving that kind of talk to her father and the man who was like family, but they were spiraling down fast. “Jean has died before, and you didn’t think you would get her back then but did. And you lost Lorna. In what world would they want you to decide that there was nothing to do but quit? After everything you have both told me about finding a reason to live and being better than the things that hurt us.” Laura shook her head, mouth a pursed thin line. “You are both better.”

RAHNE: An amused exhale was all she could muster as a reply. Illyana seemed lost in thought for a moment, which Rahne was never too quick to question, before her attention turned elsewhere and the red-headed mutant took the hint, following her as they approached Jimmy. Not wanting to pile too much onto the other she simply waved gently upon arrival.

JIMMY: "Lover boy?" Jimmy scoffed looking up at Illyana as his fingers traced through the grass before looking back at the crowd, notably to Jean then to his father and sister. "Who wouldn't be happy to be at a funeral?" He replied, voice laced with sarcasm.

HANK: "I know it sounds so selfish, but why did this have to happen now? Right as things were starting to show potential for she and I. Then all of this happens. Stars and garters I sound like a terrible person right now..."

JULIAN: He placed a soft kiss to the top of her head and then settled back, his drink still half full and he didn’t really plan on finishing it. Something about it felt weird at a funeral. “Why not.” he shuffled a bit on his feet. “Something you wanna say?” the question was directed at Teddy.

ALEX: Alex folded his arms across his chest, remaining a comfortable distance away from Henry, eyeing the older man with concern and an unsure sadness, “No, no- I understand,” Alex answered, genuine sympathy in his tone, “— and don’t worry, I won’t ask. But I’m so sorry, Henry.”

HANK: "Thank you, Alexander. No matter what everyone else says, you're decent." He said in his drunken wisdom trying to sound endearing.

REMY: Remy just looked at her for a long moment, and then the corners of his lips lifted into a smile. Albeit a sad one. “So we have taught you somethin’ then, non? Here I thought it was all in one ear out the other.” He took a breath, inhaling deep. “I don’ think the dead care what we do at this point, Laura.”

ILLYANA: “I couldn’t remember your name,” Illyana glanced down at him before closing one eye in thought. “Jimmy.” She noticed the way his gaze moved and made a note of it all. Ex-girlfriend, father and sister but still he sat alone. Three of Illyana’s closest friends had died and her brother was either drunk or painting on a beach somewhere. A recent mission behind the Russian portal had scarred him in a way she had yet to figure out. Then again, she’d also been busy. Maybe Illyana hadn’t been the best sister as of late but they had both become wrapped up in their roles. “A sadist, maybe. I never cared about funerals but this one is different. They have not caught Mesmero, have they?”

ALEX: Alex blinked, caught off guard, “Oh uh- thanks? I think?” Did people seriously not like him that much? Although it didn’t come as much of a surprise, the revelation still stung. “I think you better sit down,” he continued, changing the subject as he attempted to usher the large blue man to a nearby chair.

TEDDY: Admittedly there was a pang of envy at their display of affection—it made him ache for things he’d lost but he wouldn’t wish this on anyone. He was glad Kate had Julian right now, even if he was an ass. Teddy sighed some, and slightly raised his glass. He knew Billy wouldn’t want him to be sad, even if that wasn’t possible right now. He wasn’t really in the state of mind to give a grand speech, but he could muster something. “To those we lost and ...to those we still have. May we cherish them a little more for it.”

JIMMY: "Yeah that makes more sense." He said as he brought his attention back up to Illyana. "Yup." He replied with a small nod as she got his name right. He was pretty sure they had never actually spoken in this world or his. As far as he knew in his world Piotr didn't have any family other than his boyfriend. "Right. Sorry 'bout that." He said somewhat awkwardly giving her a sympathetic nod. She lost a lot more than he had. "Nah." He responded rather gruffly as he unintentionally ripped some grass from the sod. "Lost his scent too. I'll find him though..."

EMMA: Even before he spoke Emma knew Scott’s answer. She just wanted to see his lips moving and hear his voice when he agreed with her. Emma couldn’t wallow for long. It had never been something that she was good at. This seemed to warrant it though. On this day she was willing to let up on being the White Queen and just be a person who tilted her head upwards to blink back tears even though people could see. It was now that she took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before kissing his cheek. “You and I, Scott? We always figure it out. We just need a moment right now.” Her body remained close to his, his warmth heating the icy numbness that she had been wrapped up in. “I’m made of diamond. Rock hard and able to block out emotions.” Emma raised her hand, letting the stone coat the skin. Diamond was easy. She was stronger even if her telepathy was blocked out. When it returned to normal Emma patted Scott’s cheek twice before reclaiming another flute. “God, I hate everything about this no matter how tasteful the decorations are. Have you spoken with Nathan?”

RAHNE: Illyana appeared to have struck up a conversation with Jimmy, and Rahne didn’t feel she had much to contribute, so the redhead nodded politely to the duo before vaguely gesturing that she was going to leave; a solo training session as a feeble attempt to relieve some pent up emotion seemed much more appealing than additional aimless mingling anyway.

KATE: As he finished his speech Kate reached out to squeeze Teddy’s arm with her free hand. “May we never forget them and love them always.” Taking another sip from the champagne, the bubbles fizzed on her tongue before she swallowed the sparkling drink. “I honestly still can’t believe it. The fact that Wanda and Billy were there too? I wish I could shoot something.”

PIETRO: Pietro moved to sit beside her. He leaned back on the bench and fell quiet for a long stretch— or what felt like it anyhow. There were a million things running through his mind—he hadn’t the faintest clue on how to be a father or that he’d even be a decent one at that. He’d spent the entirety of his life looking after Wanda, yet Wanda was also a fully developed person that didn’t need him and had proved that on more than one occasion. This was entirely different. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or something else, but some how he wasn’t entirely terrified. “Well, I do have super speed...” he mused more to himself. “As you said I’m mutant and you’re inhuman, I cant entirely say I’m surprised.” a beat. “What do you want to do?” he asked.

ILLYANA: Deciding against sitting in the grass, Illyana just crossed her arms over her chest as she regarded him in half interest. The moment she had heard what had happened Illyana had sat still and stared. For an hour she sat there and tried to control the demon in her to resist the urge to bitchslap Osborn to hell. After Emma’s work it would have been far less satisfactory but it was still tempting. “I don’t want your apologies.” Everyone was sorry. There was no reason to keep saying it. “Looks like you need help. Emma was after him too but she’s preoccupied now.  They killed three of her clone spawn.”

LAURA: “I was angry, not stupid.” Laura arched a brow. She still was, it was just more manageable now. “People say that to feel better when people die. It keeps them going. Did it not help?”

SCOTT: A moment right now. It was the standing idly by that just wasn’t cutting for him. And Scott didn’t want to take anymore moments. Still, he stayed where he was, both physically and metaphorically, and tried to ease in the comfort Emma was offering. Looking over at Nathan again at her question, Scott shook his head. “Haven’t had the chance. It all happened so suddenly and we didn’t find out about Eve and Hope until recently.”

HANK: "No need to thank me, it's the least I can do." He said with a nod as Alex tried guiding him to a seat he followed but protested. "My balance is still likely superior to the vast majority of people on the planet even while I'm inebriated.

CRYSTALIA: “And super speed equates to super fast sperm?” Crystal couldn’t hide the disbelief in her voice. No matter how skeptical she wanted to be that fast sperm had somehow impregnated her and now they had some strange child rapidly growing inside of her. “A mutant/Inhuman hybrid. That doesn’t even exist.” Crystal’s gaze was aimed at her lap where she fiddled with her fingers. It was easier to look there than her now baby daddy. “I’m keeping it.” It was the first time she had admitted it out loud. Crystalia had brushed her doctors off and promised more information. It was assumed she’d keep it by the Inhumans but the mother to be had yet to actually confirm it. “I want it. And, if you want, you can be in its life too.”

JIMMY:  "Fair 'nuff. No more apologies." He said with a nod. He got it. He had gotten sick of people apologizing and wanting to coddle him soon after he got back here. "Yeah..." He said trailing off as she brought up Emma. "Can't even ask her to help after all of that..." He said before processing what she meant and raising an eyebrow at her. "You interested?"

EMMA: “There’s time. But Scott,” Emma paused. “He needs his father. Now more than ever.” She had seen what kind of father he could be. It was a far cry from the man who wore yellow gloves over his suit to cook. The man who had family dinners with an adoring ( and now dead ) wife. Emma was the fantasy, the other women. She loved teaching but loathed children at most ages. At one point she had debated telepathically making a surgeon give her a hysterectomy without medical cause, but in the end had decided against it. She loved her daughters and she loved the fact that she didn’t have to give birth even more. Setting down her most recent glass, Emma took a half step before pausing and steadying herself on her heels. “I’m intoxicated,” she stated. “And I’m exhausted. I think I would like to continue my mourning from my couch with my own bourbon.”

ALEX: Alex shook his head, but pulled out a seat for the other anyway, before taking a seat at the empty table himself. “Just— humor me, dude,” at least here he still had a good vantage point of the group.

ILLYANA: Lip quirking to the side, Illyana shrugged. “They’re already overplayed.” Nothing anyone said would make Illyana miss her friends any less. They said sorry and then she was just sad and angry. She hadn’t really been offering but she also wasn’t opposed. “I have something I need to do first. I agreed to check Krakoan gates, but you could always start there. I’m a good person to get around with.”

JIMMY: "Getting around with you doesn't sound like the worst thing in the world." He said rising to his feet this time, not noticing the potential innuendo in his phrasing. "Fine. I need to be busy, I need to hurt someone. I need to hurt him. Let me know when and where."

SCOTT: “I know.” It was automatic, but he also understood. Now, more than ever, he needed to be there for his family, he just didn’t know how to be a father without Jean there to be a mother. At her declaration, Scott nodded. “Yeah. I think it’s time to get out of here.” Scott out his hand for her, expecting most, if not all of her weight to fall against him and he would welcome it. Despite Emma’s icy demeanor, he always found a warmth in her presence.

ILLYANA: At his words Illyana’s eyes rolled, vaguely amused by the verbal misstep. “Rahnne wants to come with me but I doubt she’ll last long. We have gates all over the world and monitoring them is more difficult than before. You can come with me as long as you aren’t a distraction or slow me down. And when the time comes,” Incisors peeked out of her smile. “I’m going to hurt him too.”

JIMMY: "So long as she won't cause a distraction, I've got no problems." He let out a small laugh at her last comment. "Can't complain to that." He said with a smirk. "Promise won't slow you down. If he's within a couple miles I'll know."

PIETRO: Something between and snort and a choke escaped him—he cracked half a smile for the first time in days and draped an arm around her. “Sure, something like that.” he hadn’t been suggesting she get rid of the child but he wanted whatever decision she made to be hers. “I’ll be here if you’d like me to be.” he found himself saying, then his gaze drifted to her abdomen—strange to think life was growing in there. “Do you need anything?” he asked. Was she sick? terrified? upset? Insane to think they barely knew each other, had sex one time, which he was now discovering her only time, and now a baby was involved.

ILLYANA: “She’s small and occasionally furry. Cute.” Also a bit emotional but that was neither here nor there. “I leave tomorrow. Get your knapsack or whatever you carry.” Illyana took a few steps back, gold beginning to glow around her feet. “I *will* leave without you.” And just like that, she was gone.

CRYSTALIA: When his arm made its way around her shoulder Crystal sagged against him gratefully. She was tired. Her body hurt and the nausea sucked. She remembered when Medusa had been pregnant with Ahura and her mood swings. Crystal had always been more hot and cold than her level headed sister. That in itself was concerning. “You’re its father.” Her head had somehow moved to rest on his shoulder. “I lost my father. My mother too. I want this baby to have every chance.” Feeling his gaze, Crystalia moved her hand to let it rest over where the baby was nestled inside of her. “At this moment? No. I’ve already taken too much of your time. But I will later. I’d like to meet again soon. Maybe you shouldn’t come to New Attilan yet, but I wanted a second opinion. I could meet with an Avengers doctor and you could come.” If the freak baby continued to grow they could most likely get an ultrasound to see it. “Thank you,” she sighed. “I’m terrified, but this helped.” With that she stood, kissing him on his cheek before whistling slightly. A second later Lockjaw materialized, the giant dog panting as she quickly pet his face. “Try and drink water. It’ll help with your hangover.”  With one last smile Lockjaw and the Inhuman vanished.

EMMA: There was a strange sense of relief at Scott’s words. Emma took his hand and allowed herself to lean against him. She could easily hold her weight even if she was a little unsteady but his broad form felt solid against her arm. In that moment, it was more needed than Emma wanted to admit. They would strategize soon. Scott accommodated her form of grief so she would work with him through his. Eager to get home so that she could cry without the sharp burn of overpriced mascara, the blonde cast one last look around the funeral before teetering with Scott to the waiting Krakoan gate. There were no cemeteries on Krakoa. They left the funeral but they carried their dead with them. Dead, gone and not coming back. What a dreadful thought to end a dreadful night.

#event: dark reign #dark reign: epilogue #chatlog: dark reign epilogue #chatlog: dawn of x #momevents

[helloitsthecynincalaesthete-blog]

Opinion Series

Lydia Cole

English 2010

Opinion Series

Dec. 3, 2019

 History is Gay, My Dudes

I was scrolling through Tumblr the other day when I saw an LGBTQ history post. It was just a quick little snippet about how olive oil gained its popularity because of gay relationships in Ancient Greece. Tumblr user thefingerf***ingfemalefury replied to the post with one hell of a line: “History is infinitely gayer than a lot of people want to admit.” It inspired me to start looking up LGBT+ history and it’s true! There are tons of examples of gay and lesbian relationships, and cross dressing/third genders throughout history.

To the left is a picture of a lesbian wedding that took place somewhere in the US between the 1900s-1930s. You read that correctly. Gay marriage wasn’t even legalized then! Weddings like these took place in secret and the girls could happily live together because everyone just assumed that they were close friends or roommates. There are few countries that passed laws against female relationships because people thought that it just wasn’t really a thing!

I kept looking and I found an article about Bayard Rustin. He was a trusted friend of Martin Luther King Jr. and played a key part in the Civil Rights movement, which paved the way for the LGBT+ rights movement in the 1960s and ‘70s. Rustin was the one who taught MLK about Gandhi’s philosophy of nonviolent resistance. He helped organize the March on Washington. He’s done a ton of amazing things, but you’ve probably never even heard his name. That’s because Bayard Rustin was an openly gay black man. When opposing parties found out about Rustin, they threatened to spread lies that Rustin and MLK were in a relationship. Others that were helping with the movement were concerned that this rumor would hinder or stop their progress. Rustin stepped out of the public eye to protect MLK and the Civil Rights Movement.

I found a really cool article that was called ‘16 Historical Figures Who Were Transgender’, most of whom I’d never heard of. The story about Albert Cashier, an Irish immigrant, caught my eye so I tried to find out more. Albert Cashier was a brave Union solder during the American Civil War. He fought in over 40 battles. He once escaped a Confederate soldier that had taken him prisoner. After the war ended, Albert went back to a normal, happy life. This happiness was short lived because an accident revealed that Albert was actually a woman. His birth name was Jennie Hodgers. When Jennie was sixteen, she immigrated to New York in 1859. Jennie arrived in America as Albert, having adopted a new name and a new gender.

After Albert’s secret was found out, he had to fight in court to keep his rightfully earned army pension. He won the case but was then committed to a mental asylum. The asylum forced Albert to live and dress like a woman. Albert hated it and would use safety pins to fashion his skirts into pants. He remained in the asylum until his death in 1915.

That small Tumblr post led me down a rabbit hole full of a new and exciting, and often tragic, side of history that I definitely didn’t’ learn about in school. It’s so amazing to hear about these different people! The lives they lived, the sacrifices that they made seem kind of insignificant on their own but all of these amazing people pushing against social norms is what has gotten us to where we are today; gay marriage legalized and the Equality Act on the Congress floor. thefingerf***ingfemalefury was right! History is super, duper gay! Or bi. Or transgender. Whatever you want it to be. Don’t let anyone fool you. We have made our marks on history and continue to change the future as new laws are passed and the fight to change legislation continues. We cannot be silenced! We will not be silenced. Never again.

Joan of Arc: The Transgender Catholic Saint

It’s not really a secret that the LGBTQ community and the Catholic church don’t really get along. Catholic protesters are often spotted at pride parades and can be found sharing their opposition to The Equality Act being passed. But looking through their own history brings up some interesting questions. Like, why was the Catholic church fine with having gay priests and bishops, etc. before the Renaissance? And why do they celebrate and worship Joan of Arc, who was most likely transgender?

Here’s a quick rundown if you don’t already know the story. Joan of Arc was born in France in the 1400s. She grew up a simple peasant girl who was in charge of her family’s cattle. One day, Joan claimed to have head voices from different saints, like St. Michael. They told her to seek out Prince Charles and help him ascend the throne as France’s king. The English and the French had been at war for years by this point. Joan cut her hair short and dressed as a man to protect herself as she traveled to find Charles. Charles trusted Joan and soon she was leading French troops into battle. She was even gifted a custom suit of armor from Charles to protect her. The English captured Joan, and after spending time in prison, she was brought to trial on charges of witchcraft and heresy. After being cross examined and tortured, Joan was found guilty of heresy and cross dressing. The Bishop who examined her told her that dressing like man was a thing ‘contrary to divine law and abominable in God’s eyes’. Joan kept insisting that God had commanded her to dress as a man.

The church offered a plea deal wherein Joan had to stop talking about her so called ‘visions’ and stop dressing like a man. Joan signed a written agreement with these terms but a few days later was once again found dressed as a man and talking about her divine destiny. The church judges dubbed this a relapse into heresy and sentenced her to death. Joan of Arc was burned at the stake in 1431 at the age of 19. 25 years later, she was retried, and her conviction overturned. About 600 years after her trial, Joan was canonized a Saint by the very church that prosecuted and burned her.

The cross-dressing part of the story seems to be downplayed, and her miraculous visions and commands take the spotlight. Why does such an important detail often take the back seat? It’s a critical part of Joan’s life, her story. I’ll tell you why. The LGBTQ community has adopted Joan as an iconic figure in their history because it would make sense that Joan was transgender. It was her idea to dress like man; she risked her life and her freedom to keep doing so. Many will say it was the call of God. But there are tons of examples of transgender people who have risked life and limb to keep dressing as the gender they identify with. People who are transgender are often mistaken for having mental illness by a lot of religious types; Catholics being a prime example. And yet, these same Catholics who crash Pride Parades with nasty signs and bash people’s lifestyles online are out celebrating a peasant girl who became a martyr for the very thing they’re so strongly against. Sounds a bit hypocritical, don’t you agree? Just some food for thought.

   Joan of Arc: A Beloved Martyr Turned Saint

Even if you don’t know her story, you probably at least recognize the name Joan of Arc. Joan was born in 1412 in France to a peasant family. Those who lived around Joan saw her to be a quiet, pious girl. She was often seen at church, knelt in silent prayer. The French and English had been at war for years and years. Prince Charles was scared to claim his throne for fear of retribution.

One day, Joan heard a voice; it was St. Michael telling her that she needed to seek out Prince Charles and help him ascend the French throne. Joan decided to travel to find the prince; she cut her hair into short bob and donned men’s clothing to protect herself and her virtue. When she arrived to where Prince Charles was staying, she instantly identified him amongst the 300 or so courtiers. Charles promised to give her what she needed to be successful. She asked for a sword that she said had been buried for some time behind the alter at the church of Saint Catherine. It was exactly where she said it would be! Joan, along with a few men at arms, traveled to the battlefield to fight on behalf of France. Joan lead armies into battle in armor gifted to her by Charles himself. Joan succeeded in that which was commanded of her and Charles ascended the throne.

During one battle, the English captured Joan and she was thrown in jail. After a spending a few months there, Joan was put on trial for charges of witchcraft and heresy. She was questioned for days, even tortured but she never waivered in her stance. God had commanded her to do all these things. Joan was found guilty and burned at the stake as a cross dressing heretic.

Joan of Arc was, is, a noble hero, a beloved Catholic Saint. So, it disgusts me to hear that gay people want are pushing their beliefs onto her, tarnishing her image. They think she’s a tranny or a lesbian. Seriously??

Joan was a woman called of God; it was He that commanded her to dress as a man to protect herself and her virtue! It was illegal to cross dress during that time, a sin that went against divine nature.  Why else would Joan have risked her life to do so if not for God’s command? It would have been inherently dangerous for a woman to travel with so many men. When she and her party were traveling, Joan would choose to sleep with the woman in the houses they stayed at instead of sleeping with her men. There are people claiming that she had sex with these women! Why else would she choose to stay with them?

Why else? Because Joan was a woman! Of course, it makes sense that she stayed with the women. Why would she risk her life and her virtue by staying with the men when she didn’t need to? She was examined twice by church leaders who confirmed that Joan was a virgin maid. If you’re doubting that God spoke to her or claim that she lied just because she wanted to dress as a man, let me remind you of something. Joan knew the exact location of the buried sword that she would later carry into battle. That’s nothing something that she could have just guessed. She was a peasant, with no education to speak of. She knew where the sword was through revelation from God. This is proof that God spoke to her and that He commanded her to dress like a man. There was no other reason.

     BIBLIOGRAPHY

“16 Remarkable Historical Figures Who Were Transgender.” HistoryCollection.co, 31 Dec. 2018, https://historycollection.co/16-remarkable-historical-figures-who-were-transgender/5/.Bie, Søren.

“Canonization: Joan of Arc.” Joan of Arc - Jeanne D'Arc (1412 – 1431), Joan of Arc 1412 - 1431, 7 Oct. 2019, https://www.jeanne-darc.info/biography/canonization/.

Cherry, Kittredge. Joan of Arc: Cross-Dressing Warrior-Saint and LGBTQ Role Model. QSpirit, 30 May 2019, http://qspirit.net/joan-of-arc-cross-dressing-lgbtq/.

Gates, Henry Louis. “Bayard Rustin, the Gay Civil Rights Leader Who Organized the March on Washington.” PBS, Public Broadcasting Service, 19 Sept. 2013, https://www.pbs.org/wnet/african-americans-many-rivers-to-cross/history/100-amazing-facts/who-designed-the-march-on-washington/.

“Joan of Arc Bibliography.” SparkNotes, SparkNotes, https://www.sparknotes.com/biography/joanofarc/section9/.

Kennedy, Lesley. “Why Was Joan of Arc Burned at the Stake?” History.com, A&E Television Networks, 16 Apr. 2019, https://www.history.com/news/joan-arc-burned-stake.

Robson, Ruthann. Lesbianism in Anglo-American Legal History. CUNY School of Law, 1990, https://academicworks.cuny.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1321&context=cl_pubs.

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Personal Styling Tips: How To Develop Your Own Look

Developing a personal style has more to do with finding your own voice within your own skin than wanting to be unique, however, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with standing out from the crowd. As a young woman in today’s society, you often see celebrities and women you may look up to rocking their own unique style, and rightfully so. They’re forever wearing a new outfit than screams them whilst looking flawless. In an ideal world, that would be the case for everyone.

However, as someone who may not have a thick bank account like your role model or have the luxury of hiring a personal stylist to figure it all out for them, you have to be practical and find ways of figuring out your own sense of personal style.

We thought it would be quite fitting to offer a few personal styling tips to guide you in the right direction. Ready?

1. Look for inspiration

Find someone you’d like to follow without being a copycat; whether it’s a celebrity, your neighbor next door, or even your mom. Find inspiration from various eras if that’s what draws you in. Take photos, draw sketches if you’re talented enough, remember people from all walks of life. Remember, inspiration can come from anywhere and everywhere if you look closely enough. Never limit your sense of creativity which can turn into your own personal sense of style.

 2. Know who you are

Not only is this one of the most important personal styling tips that you’ll ever receive, it’s probably one of the most practical. It’s important to figure out who you are as a person and whom you’d like to portray to the world. Does it fit in with your occupation, age, or lifestyle? Do you prefer classic or fun? Are you all business or do you have some casual in you? Always keep those questions in mind when sussing out who YOU are.

 3. Figure out your goal

You can’t know where you’re going if you don’t have a goal or an idea of what you’d like to achieve by finding your personal sense of style. Are you looking to impress a date? Perhaps you just stumbled out of a breakup and you’re desperately in need of a change? Maybe you’re just tired of the person you’ve become and you’d like to figure out how to find yourself again? Whatever the reason, there’s always a season for everything – but first, find out why you need to find your personal sense of style.

Read: Lotus Online Boutique: Your Personal Online Stylist

4. Work with what you were given

You absolutely need to work with your best assets; whether you have gorgeous eyes, stunning cheekbones, a behind to die for, or you have the type of waistline that anyone would kill for. Make use of those assets instead of trying to change or hide them. Trust us, you’ll achieve your personal sense of style way more effectively by simply being yourself.

 5. Take a crash course

Feeling a bit rusty with your fashion terms? Perhaps you don’t remember the difference between silk and cotton, or even worse, you have no clue what color magenta is. If so, it’s time to brush up on your fashion vocabulary by going to various stores and feeling the materials for yourself, seeing the different colors out there and taking a crash course in fashion. Make it a fun outing and fall in love with discovering the world of fashion.

 6. Evaluate your wardrobe

It’s highly important to take a look at what your closet currently possesses – seeing what it is that makes you feel comfortable and how far you need to stretch in order to develop your personal sense of style. Do you prefer wearing trousers more than short skirts? Which colors do you currently have taking over? This way, you’ll be able to see where you need to change and which items will make it through to the next round.

 7. Mix and match items

Finding your personal sense of style requires following certain personal styling tips; including the need to mix and match different items. Remember to match colors and perhaps even fabric types, but don’t be afraid to match one item you bought the other day with a newly discovered one in the back of your closet. No one’s ever put the two together so you’ll immediately be unique. Remember to do the same when shopping at an online clothing boutique – the best place to find various fashion items that can easily be matched to create a unique outfit.

Read: 8 Tips to Help You Find Your Personal Style

8. Purchase the essentials

Regardless of how you decide on your personal sense of style, you always have to have the basics ready to go. Remember to always have a well-fitting pair of black trousers, a pair of comfortable jeans, a white (stain-free) blouse, your very own little black dress, a sexy pencil skirt, and black high heels. By having those basic items, you can accomplish so many other amazing styling miracles and discover your personal sense of style in a whim.

 9. Be comfortable

The main thing to remember when following personal styling tips is to remember to always feel comfortable in what you’re wearing. If you can barely walk in high heels, don’t force yourself to do it simply because you want to change your style. Not a big fan of black? Then choose a different, more vibrant color to match your skin tone. Ultimately, you have to be comfortable in anything you wear if you’re to end up loving it.

 10.Shop around

Of course, there’s no better way to find your personal sense of style than by shopping around at various online clothing boutiques.

Not only is it easy to match various items together without getting lost in all the confusion, you can also shop at different online boutiques in order to match your perfect outfit – unless you find an online boutique that has everything you’ve ever wanted! Remember to figure out who you are, whom you’d like to portray, what makes you tick in terms of style and colors, and don’t be afraid to experiment. What do you have to lose except for your inhibitions?

  Zenka Hattingh. Marketing Manager & Content Developer, Growth Hacker.                          I help startups and established companies build brand reputation through SEO-friendly content and growth hacking techniques. Find me on LinkedIn or follow me on Twitter.

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