#Rasputin hates all human life equally

[joseigamer]

Persona 2: Homophobia Simulator (2011)

Bonus:

[softfem-dom]

mutant file ,, fem oc

name : dolores betelohim nicknames : lola , lolita , dolly , lola dear .

alias : heaven says short form : heaven , heaveny

day of birth : 15th april 19??

height : 5,4

category : mutant (level 4-5)

abbilities : angel morphing , siren song / voice ridden mind-manipulation , dermakinesis , telepathy (weak).

residence : xavier's school for gifted youngsters.

occupation : (apathetic)student

affliction : xmen (occasionally) (since 1998)

state : 𝔞l҉𝔦v҉𝔢?

story

🖇️ early life Dolores was born in a catholic household, under the watch of a caring mother and the hand of a strict yet loving father. As soon as she was old enough to understand the world her she was taught about the love of God, the merciful being above, taken to church every Sunday and with a rosary hanging from her neck.

Pale as a white bunny, with equal curiosity for everything around her, and with eyes as blue as the sky. Her dark, almost coal-y, brunette hair only adding to the purity that seemed to coat her very being.

However, that purity didn't get a chance to last too long. When the priest from the church spotted her, looking like the ethereal esence of a divine being, he revealed himself to not be as kind as everyone had been fooled to believe.

He was part of an organization, an illegal project. To create angels on earth and, by false visual, force the christianism over the rest of religions by existent 'proof' of divine beings.

So, that fateful Sunday after church, she didn't get a chance to go back home. Snatched away with a cloth over her mouth, only to awake in some kind of rusty and old room surrounded by sharp medical props and colorful and strange vials on creaky shelfs.

She was experimented on. Mutated. To grow wings and have the melodic voice of the angels above. Completely stripped off of her own humanity to fake her into a 'divine' being to be worshipped. Surrounded by equal hate and disgust as admiration and amazement. just a prop to a cult.

🖇 xavier's school for gifted youngsters

After years of being trapped within the same walls, being forced to perform like some circus act. After years of being aressed as a divinity yet treated like a lab rat. One fateful days the alarms inside the facility went off, commotion being heard out in the halls, the armored door of her 'room' hiding her away from everything.

Then was when she met Charles Xavier and his team. She would've been scared of the blue man suddenly appearing inside of her room, with a 'poof' and a cloud of smoke, if it weren't for the cross pendant hanging from his neck. Christians were good samaritans, she tried to convince herself.

It turned out, at least that Christian was indeed a good samaritan. Offering her his hand and taking her away from it all, not caring about the wings growing from her back nor the blue in her eyes. She was for once being treated like a human being instead of like a divine being in need to be worshipped yet hidden away.

After that, she met the rest of the team; ororo, jean, charles, scott and kurt —the one who saved her. And found her home in Xavier's school for Gifted Youngsters. She was still seen as an angel within those walls. Yet not for the white wings, nor for the pure blue in her eyes, nor for the pale and perfect of her skin, nor from the melody in her voice, but for her smile and kind heart.

After she started to live out in the open, taking classes like any normal teen and playing outside, it soon became obvious the way her body rejected the necessary nutrients for growing —due to the poor conditions of the lab— and she ended up developing anemia, low iron levels.

Sooner than later, though, new people joined the team. Remy LeBeau aka Gambit, Anna Marie aka Rogue, Piotr "Peter" Nikolaievitch Rasputin aka Colossus, Robert Louis "Bobby" Drake aka Ice-Man, Katherine Anne "Kitty" Pryde aka Shadowcat and Logan Howlett aka Wolverine with whom she'll end up growing closer than she expected. A total contrast to see the dictionary definition of purity and religiousness attached to the hip of the sarcastic and dry-humoured man that was atheist to the damn bone.

🖇character analysis :

dear lola is an optimistic and soft girl, she is deemed extremely chill for her age —y'know puberty and all—. She seems to lack teenager hormones with how calm she is.

despite her past in a laboratory, and all the cultist stuff, she remains catholic and firm to the belief that there is a God up there that will always be there for her in the good and the bad. That's probably one of the reasons she is so close to Kurt, since they share religion and equal passion about it.

She will talk about her religion to anyone who asks or shows interest, even if she knows most people —especially teens— in the school don't give two shits if there is someone above due to their ansty teen rebellion phase she'll remain loyal in her beliefs.

She spends most of her time in the garden, the part with the tallest trees. She likes to climb the trees and spend her hours drawing or reading on the branches.

It's suspected that her calmness and relaxed nature is due to her very low iron, that has her with much less social battery and energy than people her age. She's not allergic to social interaction, but she prefers time alone or time shared in silence.

She's a very loving individual, surprisingly palyful and full of mischief. She loves helping the other teens plot schemes and pranks on the teachers —especially Scott and Logan—.

Everyone believes that the 'angel' part of her are just the white wings in her back, the ones she's always dragging on the floor because they weight quite a lot despite their feather-y appearance. But, in reality, the whole implanted 'divine' part of her is such a monstruous form that she'll never let anyone see it. The fact that she can turn in such a monstruous creature keeps her awake at night sometimes, seeing the reflection of something antromorphic and disgusting in the mirror whenever she looks at it.

Her first encounter with Logan aka the Wolverine wasn't a very pleasant one. He had been living in the school for only two or three days when he stumbled upon the sight of a supposed big bird in the branch of a tree, he wasn't thinking straight when he grabbed a small rock and threw it at the 'animal' —believing it to be something dangerous to the kids in the school—. Only to be met by the sight of a female face turning to him with wide eyes and a heavily offended expression after the loud 'thwack!' of the rock hit her in the back of her head.

She crawled up to the branches of the tree until the green leafs hid her from him and didn't come back down until it was Storm the one calling her from under the tree.

Needless to say Logan was ashamed as fuck after realizing he had threw a rock at a random kid.

After a bit of time and a cookie offering —suggested by Jean— the two of them started to get closer. With Logan freaking the fuck out the first time Lola got up too fast and fell right to the floor, damn low iron.

Despite the two of them being the total ephytomy of opposites, Logan still put up with the religious kid even while being atheist himself. He couldn't give two shits about the 'supposedly' God up in the sky —how would that even work anyways? some huge dude in the sky?—, but he never dismissed her as he never dismissed Kurt even if the two of them paired up were a total pain in the ass.

[qqueenofhades]

... Remember the Russian Revolution au? Which ended with Fedyor's sister very sick and Fedyor searching for Ivan in hopes of getting help for her from him? Fedyor finding Ivan and offering to do "anything" in exchange for his sister's medical treatment? Ivan secretly wanting Fedyor, but refusing to take what he wants like that? Soooo... I would also like the big the big 3 of your coming projects to happen, but... y'know... just.... wanted to bring this au up again... ;)

Behold, the oft-requested follow-up to the first two Russian Revolution au ficlets. Ahem.

Fedyor does not sleep that night. He does not even think about sleeping. He only leaves the army headquarters long enough to think hard about what he is proposing to do, wonder if it is worth it, and decide that it is. Katya needs the medicine, he has no other recourse, and he is categorically unwilling to return home to his family as a failure, when they have placed all their trust and hope in him. Ivan has hinted that he might be able to obtain it, and so that, no matter what it takes, is what Fedyor will have to get him to do. And for that…

He knows that he is not unattractive. He has dark eyes, dark hair, a dimpled smile, a personable and friendly manner that, in happier times, attracted the attention of many an eligible young lady who wished to ice skate or promenade around the park or take a carriage ride, as courting Russian couples are wont to do. However, while Fedyor was perfectly happy to chat with ladies, or escort them to a ball, or fulfill his essential chivalric duty, he was not otherwise interested in wooing them. It was partly for that reason that he signed up to the military, where an enterprising young man can have other opportunities in the darkness of the barracks. So long as his family was kept conveniently unaware.

For all that the Bolsheviks have overthrown the government without a clear plan as to what to do next, and accordingly plunged them all into this miserable civil war, Fedyor does secretly sympathize with certain of their beliefs on the remaking of family life. They say that marriage is outdated and bourgeoisie, that monogamy is unnatural, that women should not be subject to patriarchal systems, and that homosexuality is an equally valid state of nature. Such a possibility of sexual classification and divergence is much discussed in Europe these days, and there is even a small but growing scholarly literature, written by eminent scientists. Sexual Inversion by Havelock Ellis, published in 1896, argues that the man-loving man is indeed even a possibly improved form of human, associated with superior intellectual and artistic achievement, and that nothing about his attachment is wrong or abnormal. Two years before that, Edward Carpenter wrote Homogenic Love, and in 1900, the German Elisar von Kupffer published an anthology of homosexual poetry, Lieblingminne und Freundesliebe in der Weltliteratur. Such texts are relatively easy for an educated, French- and English- speaking young Russian intellectual, such as Fedyor Mikhailovich Kaminsky, to lay his hands on. He is not sure what can come of it, but at least he knows that he is not alone.

The question remains as to Ivan Ivanovich Sakharov’s proclivities. Unless Fedyor is very much mistaken, Ivan was at least considering the possibility of accepting his offer, and turned it down for honorable, moral reasons, feeling it unjust to sexually extort a young gentleman in exchange for his sister’s care, rather than physical horror at the idea of such a coupling. If he’s a Bolshevik, he’s probably acceptably tolerant of their philosophy on an abstract level, but it’s less clear as to whether that extends to its personal practice. If Fedyor turns up in his bunkhouse – which, come to think of it, is probably shared, curse these Bolsheviks and their dratted communality, highly inconvenient for a midnight seduction attempt – scantily clad and willing, will Ivan’s objections hold out then? Or… or what?

Fedyor doesn’t know, but the uncertainty adds to the frisson of shameful excitement, rather than detracting from it. He searches through the streets of Chelyabinsk for some bread (it does not seem in much greater supply than in Nizhny Novgorod) and waits for the sun to go down. In March, the days, though getting steadily longer, are still short and chilly, and it’s bitingly cold when it gets dark. Then he pulls up his muffler, tells himself not to be unduly precious about it, and heads for the makeshift army quarters on Kirovka Street.

The buildings in downtown are beautiful, built in the Russian Revival style of neo-Byzantinian splendor, though the onion-domed Orthodox churches have all been converted into stables and armories, and anything that whiffs of an ideology contrary to the Red one has been economically discarded. Fedyor reaches the door, knocks, and when a disgruntled sergeant comes to answer it, expecting him to be a soldier out too late and in line for a ticking-off, Fedyor raises his hands apologetically. “I’ve come to join up,” he says. “The great socialist cause of the world’s workers is the only true one for a patriotic Russian man, and I vow it my full allegiance, if you will have me. I was speaking to my friend earlier, Ivan Ivanovich, and he suggested it. Is he still here?”

The sergeant eyes him squiggle-eyed, but they cannot afford to look gift horses too closely in the mouth, or turn aside willing recruits. It takes a while, but he shouts for someone who shouts for someone else, and this finally produces the startled personage of Ivan Sakharov, who clearly thought it was for the last time when they parted several hours ago. Upon sight of Fedyor, he stops short, looking alarmed, angry, and wary all at once. “What are you – ?”

“Can we talk?” Fedyor is resolved to do this, he truly is, but he feels it best to get it over with before that wavers in any degree. Whether he wants it too little does not seem like the problem; on the contrary, he fears that he wants it too much, and if he stops to reflect on it or delude himself with any nonsensical notions of it being more than once, that can only hurt the cause. “Somewhere… private?”

Ivan hesitates, as if asking to commune out of sight of the others is tantamount to heresy (though it’s not as if these damn hypocrites didn’t plot in secret, away from their own countrymen, for months and months, Fedyor thinks angrily). Then he jerks his head. “Fine. Five minutes. This way.”

He leads Fedyor up a few narrow, creaking staircases, past closed doors that echo with snorting and snoring and coughing, the cacophony of his comrades, none of whom seem to be enjoying their glorious victory quite as much as they thought. Ivan, however, appears to be sufficiently high-ranking in the Red Guards that the room they finally arrive at, though not much larger than a closet, is at least private. It reminds Fedyor forcibly of Ivan’s room back in St. Petersburg, the one they slept in together, that first night after the Winter Palace. It sounds more intimate in his recollections than it actually was. Nothing happened, of course. But Ivan was kind to offer it, kind when he did not need to be, when a young tsarist soldier alone in the ferment of riot and revolution, such as Fedyor was, would not be likely to see the new red dawn. It is that which Fedyor keeps in mind as he shuts the door with assumed casualness, then turns around, meets Ivan’s eye in a significant fashion, and shrugs off his coat, cap, and muffler. Then, unmistakably, starts to unbutton his shirt.

He has almost gotten to the bottom by the time Ivan, who is staring at him as if he’s lost his marbles (it is unclear if this is an encouraging fashion or not) finally recovers his sense. He strides forward and covers Fedyor’s hands with his own large, callused rifleman’s fingers, sending a shock of attraction burning through Fedyor from head to toe, along with the death of any more illusion that he could continue to be casual about this. “What are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Fedyor’s throat is as dry as a bone, but he forces himself to speak. “I said that I would do anything for my sister’s care, if you would help.”

He lingers suggestively on the word anything, just as he did before, in case there was any doubt (as if the undressing wasn’t enough) what he means here. Ivan looks like a cornered bear, but as his eyes catch Fedyor’s and flick across the lean, muscled torso thus revealed beneath the shirt, he swallows hard and has to glance away. The attraction trembles silently in the air between them, tense as a piano string, tuned to snapping. In the old days, that is, when people played pianos, and did not burn them for firewood, as Fedyor’s parents were preparing to do with theirs when he left home. It chokes raw and painful in his throat. He is attracted to Ivan – desperately attracted, in fact – and yet he still hates what the Bolsheviks have done, even if the Romanovs and the Provisional Government were no better. The deposed Tsar Nicholas II is under house arrest with his wife and five children, the four tsarevnas and the tsarevich, in Yekaterinburg. Little sick Alexei Romanov, whose hemophilia opened the door for Grigori Rasputin to control the queen, the royal household, the government of Russia, and so bring about the end of their house. He was like something from a fairytale monster, that Grisha. The rumors of his death, not quite two years ago in December 1916, is that it almost did not happen, he was so hard to kill. A demon. A beast.

“You cannot do this,” Ivan says, his voice too rough, his eyes still struggling to remain decorously averted. “It is not – it is not right.”

“Not right?” Fedyor flares. “So a little spot of armed treason and overthrowing the man who, however deficient he might be, was the heir of one of the oldest and greatest empires in the world? That part was entirely aboveboard, but this, when you want this – don’t lie to me, I’m well aware you do – to help my sister? That would be a sin?!”

Ivan backs up a step, glancing around shiftily. These walls are thin, and he clearly does not want his beloved brothers-in-arms to hear this. “Fedyor Mikhailovich – ”

“Have me.” Fedyor is done playing games. “I’m here, I’m yours for the taking. You can do whatever you want to me, as long as you give me the medicine at the end.”

For a long, spellbound moment, he thinks Ivan is on the brink of agreeing. Then once again, he shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I could not in good conscience consent to this. But I will fetch you the medicine. You do not have to give me anything in return.”

Fedyor gawks at him, shocked – and, it must be confessed, more than a little disappointed. “I thought it was fair trade,” he says. “Tit for tat.”

“It is…” Ivan shakes his head, eyes once more straying to Fedyor’s bare chest. “Button your shirt up,” he says, half-laughing, not angry, breathless and soft. “It is very distracting.”

“Good.” Fedyor takes another step. “I think you deserve it, you obnoxious bastard.”

“Be that as it may.” At least Ivan has the good sense not to dispute it. “I cannot do this,” he repeats, more gently. “You are a fine young man, Fedyor Mikhailovich. Perhaps in another life… but it would not be honorable to trade your virtue for this.”

“My virtue?” Fedyor has to laugh. “What makes you think I have that?”

Once again, Ivan wavers. But to give him (loathing) credit, he will not be swayed. “Button it,” he repeats. “I will arrange to have the money and medicine sent by your lodging by tomorrow, if you give me an address in the city.”

“I don’t have one.” Fedyor folds his arms. “Only here.”

Ivan looks even more startled. His lips part, he takes a step forward, and for a brief, wild, exquisite yearning of an instant, Fedyor thinks he is actually going to kiss him. They’re almost close enough – not quite, but almost – for it to happen. Then Ivan says, “Your family must be very proud of you.”

“I…” It catches in his throat. “I don’t know. I hope.”

“I would,” Ivan says. “I would be.”

And that, somehow, is all that seems to matter. Even as Fedyor spends a night in Ivan’s narrow camp cot of a bed, Ivan insisting on taking the hard floor out of an excess of gallantry, an echo of their first night in St. Petersburg. Ivan does as ordered, gives Fedyor some rubles and some medicine and a train ticket back home to Nizhny Novgorod. He personally escorts Fedyor to the train station to make sure he does not come to grief, then stands on the platform, staring after him like Vronsky watching Anna leave one more time. The train begins to huff and puff, spitting soot and embers, and Fedyor keeps his nose pressed to the glass, leaving a smudge, until long after, as it seems he is never destined to do anything but, Ivan Ivanovich Sakharov has vanished into the mist.

[shyybzikx]

🙏- what are my muse’s theological beliefs? How complex are they? Are they religious, spiritual, or an outright atheist? // for the younger Romanovs!

RP Headcanon Meme

The Romanov children, like their father, were very much devout Russian Orthodoxy, which was part of the Eastern Orthodox Church. They were a self-governing body, where Orthodox bishops presided over their own geographical location and took care of the church there. Baptism, communion, and the seven sacraments (baptism, confirmation, communion, penance, marriage, holy order, and the anointing of the stick) are very much apart of their beliefs. They believe that God is a trinity and in the resurrection of Jesus, however Russian Orthodoxy views scripture and tradition as equal sources of God's revelation. They believe that the sinning of Adam and Eve led to the entrance of death into the world, but that it didn't change human nature. They also follow the Julian calendar, so Easter and Christmas fall on different days.

Now, of the four daughter's, Anastasia is the one who views these things as guidelines. She hated going to church and sitting through services. She isn't overly religious, unless things are going wrong, she even wears a little cross necklace around her neck. And depending on what's going on in her life, will pray from time to time.

Tatiana is probably the more religious of the bunch. She reads her bible daily, keeping it on her at all times. She will quote bible verses for any occasion and has her bible memorized. This child prays every morning, every evening, in the middle of the night. She believes that doing hard work brings you closer to God, and valued her time as a nurse. She'd read the bible to the soldiers she helped.

Olga and Maria are both religious, but not as much as Tatiana and not as little as Anastasia. Olga is very dutiful and upholding religion is apart of her beliefs. Maria views it as tradition. Neither of them carry a bible around like Tatiana, but in the evening Olga and Maria can be found reading it together, even saying little prayers for their friends and family.

Alexei is probably the most complex of the children. He grew up with the church, had priests pray over him during his fits and bouts of sickness. Yet a monk from the Urals of Siberia was the one who told his parents not to give him Tylenol, a known blood thinner, and to not just pray over him, and it worked. He doesn't know what to believe anymore after Grigori Rasputin. He doesn't speak much on it, and keeps most of his religious views to himself.

However, all five of these children, despite inner conflicts, or beliefs will be in church during service. That will not change.

[kurtty-drabbles]

Belasco au ( the help)

@djinmer4

Kurt, as the Demon Lord, has many obligations to do and never was the one to skip any of them, even if is unpleasant, however, the mundane work gets a little better knowing Kitty will be there with him.

Kurt, the Demon Lord, is a manipulative person, but ironically enough, this Kurt can´t stand being surrounded by humans, mutants or demons for too long. He has all the power the title have minus the social abilities.

Well, who exactly would invite a Demon Lord for a tea party? If they exist, those people aren´t exactly sharp.

Currently, Kurt is reading one of his many books about arcane magic, there are several ways to torture someone without having to render the flesh, Kurt will always find new tricks.

Reading in his study room is the best part, the only way to enhance would be if Kitty was here(or if she says she wants to stay here forever and ever and never leave. That would be the true ice in the cake) ever since the courtship begins, things went smoothly.

Kurt, the Demon Lord, may not be very social and whatnot, but he is very romantic and Kitty shares this sentiment as well. As Kurt is using the page mark Kitty give to him(“you always lost the page you are in, always” “that´s not funny” “no, it isn´t, sorry, Kurt, here I got something for you” “what is this?” “A page mark of Pikachu”) enjoying the contrast, the happy Pikachu is helping Kurt learn more about how to break someone´s mind.

The door is open and the faithful Pikachu marks the page Kurt was reading.

“Katzchen,” Kurt says warmly, well, as much a Demon Lord can do. Feelings and social interaction are now a new subject for him.

“Hi, Kurt,” says equally warm but quickly is brought to reality with Yana clearing her throat to gain attention or maybe to break the mood “ This is Illyana, she came to me because, well, she wanted to come”

Kurt and Illyana gaze at each other.

“I thought Kurt was fuzzy and blue” and not an asshole who kidnaps me to Stockholm syndrome on Kitty, she thought to have the slightest notion that this new Belasco may have read her mind or maybe just reading her body language.

This Kurt looks out of a Hollywood movie, ironically, this Kurt does look a little with Errol Flynn. There still traces of the original Kurt, but he is no longer fuzzy.

“I´m no longer fuzzy, Illyana, are you alright?” Kurt has the faint idea that he should ask this to her, Kitty nods to him and now looks at the blonde Russian girl who still frowns at him.

“Yes, I´m wide awake” The soul sword didn´t go unnoticed, Kurt doesn´t feel threated by her, but he knows Kitty likes this girl and he wants to be a decent host if nothing else.

“Kurt, I came here to ask something, one thing I know you dislike very much, but could you hear me out?” The Demon Lord´s eyes are on Kitty and Yana is still frowning at him as waiting for an attack.

“I´m listening, Katzchen,” says smoothly. Does she want Kurt to kill someone? He can do that, is quite easy, not enjoyable but easy nonetheless.

“My dear Lockheed was found, Yana found him” now the ‘I´ll kill you’ gaze softly at the mention of the purple dragon" sadly, her brother, and this is his fault, not hers" Kitty look firmly at Yana" killed my Lockheed. He turned my Lockheed into a statue and broke it.“There´s sadness here, an emotion Kurt is well familiar” So, I was thinking if you could save him, somehow"

“Mixing with time and space to save your purple dragon?” inquire Kurt, of course, he remembers the purple dragon(the little thing was always biting his tail) fondly or as much as possible for him.

“You miss him that much?” asked Kurt and Yana are under the impression that he will ask for Kitty´s soul.

“Very much”

“I can bring him back, Katzchen” Yana is ready to slay Kurt if he dares to ask for her soul or anything inappropriate “ but let be know I hate doing this”

His normal eyes, the ones that belong to a movie start, suddenly turn pitch black and the Demon Lord start repeating some words, a mix of Latin and something else not heard of.

And out of blue, Lockheed is back again, flying around completely confused until he spots his dear Kitty.

“Lockheed” the dragon is on Kitty´s shoulder and getting gentle pats from the Russian girl. “Thank you, Kurt”

Lockheed looks at this new Kurt, confused either with his surround, his new life or with the fact that this Kurt is nothing like he remembers.

“No problem, it is an easy thing for me,” Yana thinks vehemently he is mocking her" But I prefer to not do again" and proceeds to explain, to Kitty and ignoring Yana a little, the process.

“I see, well, thank you, Kurt and I´m sure once Lockheed get used he will thank you, I´ll take Yana home and come back here” then she says “would you like to say something to her?”

Kurt blinks in confusion.

“Sorry, for kidnap you, Miss Rasputin, It won´t happen again”

“Better not” the two gaze each other one without interest in the other and the other wants is not pleased with the situation “ don´t do anything funny with Kitty, I´m getting better and better at my magic”

“Got it,” is his only reply as Kitty and Yana leave his study room. Kitty can´t expect things to go better than this.

Kurt is regretting his initial plan. Maybe, Kurt should just appear in Kitty´s house with flowers.

[kurtty-drabbles]

HUGE ULTIMA AU REALLY HUGE

N/A: thinking about this and how Marvel is Marvel(fuck them) I decided to try to redo the ULTIMATE AU  and not put Kurt as the worst person ever. So let´s see if I can make it right.

@djinmer4 @niuniente

Kurt Wagner is an idealistic and a pacificist at heart, a man of God who wants to lead a good life with his religion but can´t turn blind for the injustices in the world. The unfamous Nightcrawler was a mutant very well know in Germany, Walldorf and on his own free will decided to join the X-men.

A group that swears to protect the mutants and battle for equality, at first instance that is exactly what they are doing, however, the drama is a plague that infests the X-men, love triangles and heartbreaks are enough to take out some of the enjoyment of the mission.

Kurt made some friends there, Peter Rasputin for example, who revealed himself to be gay, expecting Kurt to be disgust with such revelation.

"My friend, I´m a Catholic but not a blind sheep, I can´t approve some messages that some Catholics groups spread, God doesn´t hate anyone, and I don´t have any problem with your sexuality" Kurt explained and is immediately engulfed in a bear hug.

The worlds changes, people change but the School of higher learning professor Chavier it seems stuck in the past.

In a small city in Lithuania, there´s a laboratory that is using mutant kids as a test for weaponry, Kurt along with a squad force was called to save the children.

Kurt is a religious person, but, sometimes Kurt has no problem in letting his demon side out. His blade cut all the soldier working for the scientist who wants the perfect weapon for the next big war.

All the kids were saved and returned safely to their home, Kurt realized that the rescue party is composed of 50% humans and 50% mutants, however, Kurt is the only X-men in the mission.

This makes his decision a lot easier, as Kurt Wagner decide to take some time from the X-men, the only people who know where he´ll stay are Jean Grey, Ororo, Peter Rasputin, Scott Summer, and just them.

Kurt is still battling for the right causes, to mutant inclusion, to positive changes in society, using his background as a way to educate the next generation the danger of "pure nation" actually means. Kurt has proud of being Germany, but again, the Nightcrawler isn´t blind by the errors of his nation.

It has been a few months that Kurt is back at his city, his own house feels a bit warm everytime he enters, the neighbors are divided, some have issues with a mutant living among them and others welcome the change with open arms.

Suddenly, his telephone starts to ringing and Kurt picked up immediately, letting the food stew for while, winter is coming and Kurt wants to eat something warm.

"Uhm, Hallo?" said a feminine voice that Kurt doesn´t remember of hearing before, by the accent it is an American and doesn´t speak German very well."Heer Wagner? can we talk, Ororo give me your number and I was thinking if we could talk"

"Hallo, young lady" Kurt smile and chuckles a little " I´m not that old to be called Heer, Kurt is fine, and of course we can talk, but first what is your name?"

"Oh sorry, I forget to introduce myself, my name is Kitty Pryde nice to meet you," Kitty said shyly.

"So, I assume you´re with the X-men, is everything alright?" Kurt asked knowing that if Ororo gives his number to this woman then she must be alright.

"Well, yes and no, no one is attacking us and the US is getting more tolerant about mutants, a lot more, however, in the school things are getting bad" she takes a deep breathe "  the mood here is awful and I ...feel silly by talking with someone I never meet or never meet me, but your name is thrown around in such awe...is enough to even calm down Mr.Logan"

This gets his interest, Logan is a wild person after all, and Kurt did hear some stories about what Logan is doing that did cause some concern.

" And I thought it would be alright to talk with you, but..if that is too weird...you can turn off, it is a bit weird" Kitty replied.

"Katzchen, I once saw monkeys piloting an airplane, a robotic nanny trying to murder me, my own mom playing mind games with me, a cute Katzchen trying to speak with me is not weird at all," he said and he could hear she give smalls giggles in the other line, it was a cute sound.

"Ok, so, where do I begin?" Kitty asked in good spirit.

"The start is a good point, Katzchen" Kurt suggest and Kitty start telling how the mutants in the US are getting more rights and the segregation in schools is finally over. Then she moves to the school and told Kurt about the love triangle between Jean-Scott and Logan, and is noticeable the disgust in her voice.

"So, Mr.Logan always carry a torch for Jean, even when she made explicitly she does not love him at all, he ends up killing Scott thinking this will get Jean´s love and well backlash severely" there´s some tears and sobs from Kitty and Kurt let her speak " Jean found out and she killed him, but the worse part is that Professor X gives the idea to Logan wanting to have Jean all for himself and she ...killed him, I´m not sharing a tear for him, only for Jean...be the center of two gross man obessesion is terrible"

"I can´t imagine," Kurt said softly suddenly understanding some of the last mysterious messages that Ororo and Peter send lately.

"This creates a division, Jean is leading the X-men, some of the members are not ok with this and leave, some people are even wondering why the school even exist anymore," Kitty said.

"Katzchen, do you want to stay in the school?" Kurt asked curiously.

"I have to stay, I can´t be ungrateful with Jean and the others" this makes Kurt very curious but maybe is something to talk in another day.

"Are you happy there?"

"Yes, I guess, we are taking the broken pieces of X-men and trying to craft something new but is hard...I´m trying but is really hard"

"Katzchen, do you have a friend there?"

"I don´t know" this reply is too honest to be ignored or taken as a joke.

"Well, you have one now, but I´m in Germany, but, I think it still counts"

"Good, I can finally put my German to the test, I have 3 classes so far"

"3 classes? wow, I´m impressed, we can talk about the German literature at this point, which is your favorite author?"

"Uhm, so I think I need more than 3 classes to answer that, sorry" Kurt just laugh at this reply and the conversation continues, until is time for dinner and the time zone get herself knowing by Kitty as well.

And this is how this penpal relationship just begin. Sometimes, Kurt would speak in German just to see what Kitty would say, the usual reply is that she needs to learn more German, sometimes Kitty would put her favorite music up to let Kurt know what is in and what is out in here(Kurt is sad that Smashing Mouth is not in anymore)

This relationship is a nice safe place for all the drama and loneliness the world can bring to them. It is nice, according to Kurt and Kitty, being able to talk with someone so freely, even if said person likes to make jokes in a language the other will not get it.