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panharmonium · 4 years ago

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more scattered naruto thoughts now that we’ve finished season 8 -

[spoiler policy disclaimer first, as always: I am watching naruto for the first time and have only gotten up to the end of season 8 (after pain destroys the hidden leaf village). i am trying to avoid spoilers, so please don’t interact with this (tags included, because the notifications now show them to me automatically) with any spoilery commentary, including even general things like “oh i love this show but it gets less good after X point” or “X season is better than Y season” or any general assessments of quality/likability/etc re: future seasons. Thank you! <3 ]

- i like the way S8 ended. i know that in real life maybe it wouldn’t be so feasible to just talk your enemy back to the light, but honestly, i don’t care. i love that shit. i love stories when people refuse to hurt the people who hurt them first, and then their seemingly inconceivable choice to refrain from striking back creates a connection (it’s the ‘return of the jedi’ effect, folks). i understand that it doesn’t work like that in real life most of the time, and i don’t recommend it for real life people trying to defend themselves, but i do love it in fiction. i LOVED how naruto went in pursuit of nagato to talk to him, not fight him. even though naruto says straight-up “i can’t forgive you” / “I want to kill you so badly i can’t stop shaking” - he still recognizes that his enemy is someone who’s been victimized, and he has enough compassion to feel pain on their behalf even when he himself is reeling from having his entire home destroyed and both of his teachers murdered by the person he’s confronting. his choice to control his (valid) rage and extend a hand in compassion is ultimately what changes the outcome and saves everyone who would have died, reversing the damage that was done, and i love that shit.

- absolutely adore yamato abandoning his own mission and taking off at a run to try and help naruto when he senses that naruto is losing control over the nine-tails. this man thought he was just a substitute teacher for a while there, but he’s become part of the family while he wasn’t looking.

- HINATA. oh my god i couldn’t even enjoy this incredible moment because i was so stressed out (and angry, at the time, because i really thought they were going to kill her, and that would’ve crossed my line). i want to watch this again knowing that she’s fine, because my anxiety over ‘fuck fuck fuck they’re actually going to kill one of the kids’ precluded me from even appreciating it appropriately.

- there’s been a lot of talk on this show about how sakura doesn’t have as much chakra as naruto or sasuke, but she heals people non-stop the entire time Pain is attacking and doesn’t show any signs of running dry. SHOW HER SOME RESPECT.

- CHOOOOOOOOJIIIIIIII! omg. i was so afraid that his father was actually dead, and SO RELIEVED that he was okay. you can’t do that to choji!!!

- also relatedly, how much do i adore choji for caring so much about kakashi? <333 i mean this kid is there sobbing over his dead body, and then he bursts out crying when kakashi comes back to life - i really appreciate these little ties between characters who aren’t always in close quarters but who do have a relationship. kakashi has been a teacher to ALL of the kids, and team 10 especially feels indebted to him - the respect and affection they all feel for him is very real.

- first time i actually thought ‘ok he’s cool’ with regard to minato was when he talked to the nine-tails so unfazed like “he’s a loudmouth. let’s go somewhere more quiet.’ i’ve been kind of so-so on his character so far, but i liked this.

- also later in that scene - the (rare) scenes we’ve seen where naruto totally breaks down absolutely kill me. it happened once when gaara was dead, and then there’s another moment in this episode when he’s talking to minato - whoever voices him does just incredible work in those moments, and it is SO PAINFUL to me because naruto is always such a happy kid the rest of the time and eternally optimistic and positive and excited and popping back up every time he falls down, and so when he cracks it is just devastating to see. i hate seeing him cry like that.

- similarly - that shot of sasuke at the end of the itachi arc wrecked me. naruto’s breakdowns are upsetting, but at least he allows himself to have them - when he gets pushed past a breaking point, he explodes. he cries and yells and spills every single thought in his head in front of everybody who’s around him, and after it’s done, things get better. he’s with people who care about him. he’s venting and making himself understood, and he always finds his equilibrium again.

sasuke, though, has been completely locked down ever since we saw him sneak out of the hospital to wander around the scene of his community’s mass murder, and he’s still locked down now, even crying all alone at the edge of the ocean. this moment isn’t cathartic. it isn’t a release. this is barely even a sliver of what this kid has going on inside him, and it looks like it’s agonizing for him to even let that much out.

- the scene where naruto is about to give up and give in to the nine-tails’s power...that exchange!!!!!!!

i don’t know. it hurts. i hate this. i don’t know. what should i do. i don’t know anything anymore. someone...please help me. give me...an answer.

destroy everything. erase anything that causes you pain. give me your soul, your spirit, your vital essence. give it to me, and in exchange, i will rescue you from your pain.

this whole exchange is amazing. the way naruto says ‘it hurts’...this is one of those scenes that expands to cover so much more ground than just what’s onscreen at that moment. what naruto overcomes here is precisely the trap that sasuke has not been able to escape. sasuke has never had any framework for dealing with pain that isn’t about pursuing vengeance. it’s the only way he thinks he can free himself from his pain - by putting all of his energy into destroying the people who hurt him.

but it becomes an endless cycle, because he never succeeds. itachi dies and sasuke feels worse than ever, so he turns his attention to the hidden leaf in an attempt to finally kill what’s hurting him. but even if sasuke were to raze the entire village to the ground, his pain would still be with him, and he’d then have to turn his attention to yet another target, because the alternative would be to recognize that he can’t escape his pain by destroying the things that hurt him, and that’s not something he’s able to accept right now. he’s spent half his life fixated on the idea that revenge can rescue him from how terrible he feels, and abandoning that idea now would mean that nothing can save him. it would mean that he’s going to hurt like this no matter what he does.

kakashi tried to warn him about this. he tried to tell sasuke that even after getting his revenge, sasuke wouldn’t feel better, that he’d only tear himself apart trying to achieve something that would leave him feeling empty - but sasuke was too entrenched in his own warped thinking to believe it. and ever since then, sasuke has been in the company of people who are happy to let him dig himself deeper and deeper into a self-destructive hole as long as it benefits their agenda. they don’t care if he’s hurting himself. they’re happy to see him suffering. his pain is a tool they can use.

- a note re: kakashi, when it comes to this topic -

i think it’s relevant to remember that kakashi never tells sasuke not to pursue revenge because it’s “wrong” or ethically questionable. he never delivers any moralizing speeches in the vein of “if you kill someone who victimized you, you’re just as bad as they are.” kakashi doesn’t think it’s wrong if itachi dies, and if sasuke were in a better state of mind, he probably wouldn’t even mind if sasuke were the one to kill him. that’s why kakashi is comfortable helping team 10 pursue asuma’s killers, after all - because they’re not unbalanced by rage or making self-destructive decisions; they’re acting with clear heads and pursuing a course of action that needs to be taken anyway (asuma’s murderers are on their way to the leaf to capture naruto - they need to be dealt with regardless). team 10′s kids can handle that mission - they’re thinking straight. they’re comfortable accepting adult guidance. they’re grieving, but they’re okay.

sasuke is not. sasuke has been deeply traumatized since he was a very young child, and encouraging his quest for vengeance is equivalent to validating all of the fucked-up thought patterns that are hurting him so badly - that it was his responsibility (as a seven year-old child) to protect his clan, that he was weak and cowardly for running away, that he needs to take itachi down as penance for failing to save his family, that killing itachi is the only way for him to justify his childhood survival, that killing itachi will free him from his pain. for kakashi to encourage any of these false convictions would be irresponsible and, ultimately, harmful to the child he’s supposed to be looking after. if sasuke gets his revenge on itachi, he’s just going to be left with the horrifying realization that his pain hasn’t lessened even the slightest bit, except that now he also has to deal with the additional trauma of killing someone he used to love.

kakashi doesn’t discourage sasuke from revenge because Revenge Is Morally Bad and You Are Morally Bad For Pursuing It; he discourages sasuke from revenge because in this particular case, sasuke’s fixation on revenge is hurting him. it’s unhealthy for him, and it will cause him worse pain in the future if he allows it to continue driving his life. sasuke is never going to feel better if he doesn’t stop distracting himself from his pain by focusing solely on vengeance. if he’s ever going to actually be rescued from his pain, he needs to face (and FEEL!!!) his grief, which is precisely what staying fixated on revenge allows him to avoid.

- relatedly: i just. am SO sick. of all these horrible people. getting their hands on sasuke. and using him for their own ends. when he has already been manipulated and victimized all his life. it makes me wanna SCREAM!!!! and i know that’s the point; we are supposed to be frustrated by this - but - hrnghghgnh

and like - it’s not like sasuke doesn’t know it’s happening! he’s not stupid! he knows the people around him are using him, and he just tries to use them back and play them before they play him, and he accepts that this is what his life is going to look like, and because he survives, he thinks he’s in control, but he has NO IDEA how far over his head he’s in now. and besides, he never stops to think that maybe his life shouldn’t look like this. he has no conception of ‘someone should be taking care of me.’ he’s never seen himself as a child who needs protection - he’s never seen himself as a child, period. it’s why he’s such a brat to the other kids, and it’s why he never calls kakashi ‘sensei.’ he thinks of himself as an adult. he has adult problems. he can’t connect to children his own age because he can’t connect to the idea of childhood - his childhood was stolen from him, and with it went any conception of refuge or safety or the fact that relentless self-sufficiency and a constant cycle of using/being used by other people isn’t in fact what his life is supposed to look like.

i am continually infuriated by all of these people who have abdicated their responsibility as adults and chosen to exploit an already exploited kid, one who is too messed up to save himself or let anybody else help him. none of these people care about him. they all want to use him for something. they’re happy he’s in pain, because his pain is what enables them to manipulate him.

the people who DO truly want to help him are the same people he’s desperately trying to avoid. the only adult sasuke ever had a meaningful and non-manipulative relationship with is the same adult he keeps running away from. and the only two people his own age who ever actually knew anything about him or cared if he was okay are the two people he keeps pushing away.

there is, perhaps, a lot to be said about how sasuke continually runs away from the people who actually care about him and instead affiliates himself with people he’ll never have to worry about forming a connection with. “having too many ties in this world just holds you back” - sure, and having no ties protects you, too. nobody to love you, nobody to know you, nobody you can ever lose.

#naruto #pan watches naruto

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thesublemon · 5 years ago

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Jungle Fever (1991)

Watched Jungle Fever (1991) the other night, Spike Lee’s take on the (1991) state of interracial relationships. It didn’t feel as ruthlessly focused and still-relevant as Do The Right Thing, although several parts of the movie do feel like watching a present-day twitter debate. I’m not the right person to make calls about relevance, really. But it was compelling to me as an example of how to make art about a social issue in a way that feels complicated and challenging, regardless of what the issue might be. I’ve rarely seen a movie so explicitly political that was also so determined to not draw an exact conclusion. And yet it still leaves you satisfied that the movie did what it set out to do. The lack of conclusion didn’t feel aesthetically cowardly or morally wishy-washy. It felt right.

And a lot of that, I think, is down to the set-up of the story. The premise is that a well-to-do (dark-skinned) black man, happily married to a (light-skinned) black woman, with a kid, cheats on his wife with his white (Italian) secretary. The affair is quickly discovered, provoking everyone around them to air their many and various grievances about race and relationships. Meanwhile the protagonist’s older brother, a shiftless drug addict, lurks around the edges of the movie making increasingly desperate and invasive demands for money.

The reason that this set-up is so smart, is that it starts everyone—including the audience—from a place of judgment. It’s easy to use art to argue that interracial relationships are obviously good, and that people who judge them are obviously bad, when the relationship is a pretty Hollywood story of two people in epic, star-crossed love. It’s harder when you’re talking about an adulterous affair that is based, in large part, on racially fetishistic desire. Similarly, it’s easy to say that a family--or more broadly, a society--should support their children when that child is a successful architect who has made a single sexual mistake. It’s harder when that child is a chronic liar on a downward spiral that threatens to bring his instability into a family’s superficially safe, middle-class home.

In other words, the movie deliberately focuses on characters that its audience might not immediately find sympathetic, that people might have legitimate reasons to think are disturbing some social order. And doing this accomplishes two kind of amazing things. First, it gives all of the characters permission to speak their minds about what’s going on. If someone is racist, the unsympathetic circumstance gives them an excuse to be racist. But it also, for example, gives the protagonist’s wife, Drew, an opportunity to articulate the raw pain of her particular socio-sexual experience with race. It means that multiple realities will be true. Multiple perspectives will sound sort of wrong, and sort of right. You find yourself thinking that what someone is saying is a real, fair point to make, but not necessarily relevant to event that prompted it. Second, using unsympathetic characters means that any humane conclusions that the audience ends drawing will have been fully earned. People don’t need to be virtuous to be human. An interracial relationship doesn’t need to be perfect to be something that’s fine to do, or at the very least, something that one should not be legally or socially punished for solely for being interracial. The juxtaposition of adultery with an interracial affair forces one to articulate the difference between something that is unethical, and something that is merely, in a particular time and place, taboo.

(I say unsympathetic, but it really should be “unsympathetic.” The characters actually are sympathetic, but they’re sympathetic because they’re complexly written, not because the audience has been cheaply manipulated to like them.)

It also helps that the movie understands and addresses the bigger anxieties that cause human beings to be so damn tribal in the first place. If the movie were purely about interracial relationships, it would not have featured Gator, the drug addict brother, so prominently. Instead, the movie seems to be more about questions of security and belonging. It’s about both the fear of being cast out of society, and the fear that something will undermine the society that exists. It seems to suggest that the reason that people are afraid of interracial relationships is similar to the reason they’re afraid of adultery, and afraid to admit to adultery--and also, afraid of addicts and the otherwise abject. It’s the fear that your unit will be disrupted. That base human instincts and outside influences will corrupt the social fabric. Though the movie also loves pointing out the irony of the way that the fear of social disruption leads families to destroy themselves more than they ever would otherwise. Angie’s father throws her out of her house. Flipper’s father, who is heavy-handedly named The Good Reverend Doctor Purify, ends up shooting Gator. On the other hand, when Drew kicks Flipper out of their house, or sobs while having sex when he finally comes back, it’s clear that this damage to his domestic unit is entirely his fault. In other words, the movie treats the fear of instability as simultaneously rational, misplaced, and as a destructive, self-fulfilling prophecy.

(Really there are so many levels and instances of on the other hand with this movie, that you could just keep going. I’m not doing justice to how much ambiguity there really is, especially when it comes to Flipper’s anxieties about status and belonging. One of the reasons he gives for ending the affair is that he doesn’t want to have mixed-race kids who don’t fit in anywhere, who won’t belong. On the one hand, given the speech his wife gives about being mixed, and given Flipper’s outcast state at that point in the movie, that fear is not necessarily irrational. But on the other hand, the actual reason he ends the affair is because he doesn’t love Angie. And if he isn’t around for the child he already has, that’s on him. On the one hand, Flipper claims that he and Angie were really only interested in each other because of their race, but on the other hand, Angie is genuinely taken aback at this suggestion. Or, at one point in the movie there’s a very hard-to-watch scene in which Flipper and Angie are playfighting against the hood of a car, when the police suddenly show up and try to arrest him, saying that someone had reported an attempted rape. Flipper of course is scared out of his mind, shouting at Angie to stop telling the police that they’re lovers. On the one hand, Flipper’s fear is completely justified--the officers in the scene are the ones that killed Radio Raheem in Do The Right Thing--and it’s clear that Angie can’t even conceive a world in which the simple fact of them being lovers would be equated with rape, and punishable by death. But on the other hand, the playfight is shot in a genuinely ambiguous way, and the police accept their mistake pretty quickly. The dual reality that police can fail society by being violently racist and by being negligent is allowed to just sit there. On the one hand, you add these examples up, and you could say that the movie implies that a lot of Flipper’s racial anxiety is only in his head. But on the other hand, the beginning of the movie shows Flipper failing to get a very deserved promotion, and it’s pretty clear that the main reason he doesn’t is because he’s black. There’s a reason his name is Flipper: this is a movie and a character that flips between sides.)

Point is, whether or not Jungle Fever is a movie that people would still see themselves in, it is a fine example of how to make a movie that tackles contentious social issues in general. My takeaway was that, when making art about a social issue, consider:

1. Using ambiguous examples, and/or examples that an audience is not likely to be charitable towards. And then finding the human side of that example.

2. Using more than one example.

3. Letting people with different stakes in the issue articulate those stakes.

4. Having people be right, but wrong, and wrong, but right.

5. Going a level up, and seeing what bigger ideas encompass the issue you’re exploring.

All of which, really, are probably good ideas for any sort of story, political or not. The failure-mode of social issue art is propaganda, when the desire to persuade leads an artist to depict the world in a moralistically simple way. Watching the movie, it’s clear that Spike Lee has his own attitudes about what he’s depicting. But by complicating and contextualizing those attitudes, he avoids propaganda and creates something that is entirely literary. And ends up potentially more persuasive as a result.

#posts: art #movies: jungle fever

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 6 years ago

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Can't make you love me pt. 3 (E.D.)

Summary: Grayson takes matters in his own hands.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing

Word count: ~2k

Part 1 Part 2 Alternative ending

No matter how badly Ethan and Y/N fought in the past, Grayson was always the one to suffer the most.

Torn between his loyalty to his twin brother and the girl he saw as a sister, Grayson knew choosing sides would break away a vital part he needed to survive.

Sure, Ethan would always be his choice regardless who stood on the other side, but losing Y/N felt like losing a limb and it was tiring to watch his brother so hurt every day.

Unlike before, Ethan stopped pretending he hadn’t fallen in love with Y/N. In fact, he openly admitted to loving her one night before the Sister Squad.

“Y/N is the only thing I had going for me and I messed that up too.“ He solemnly spoke with his eyes closed, not seeing every single one of his friends' mouth open in shock. He had always been adamant about denying his feelings for the girl, but his defenses are down now. Ethan is no longer hiding anything, exposed like a raw nerve, continuously firing even under the pressure.

“You still broke her heart.“ Grayson chimes in, both annoyed and worried for his brother. Ethan is the type to bottle things up before exploding and he's been bottling things up for too long.

“Y/N said I didn't prioritize her. Ever. She thinks I don't care and it's best if it stays that way. I've been trying to hide my feelings for her for years and I'm tired of it. Each time, I attached myself to someone new to try and forget her, putting as much distance as possible between us until I found a way to act as a friend again...I hurt her too many times and I'm not going to keep doing the same shit over and over again.“ Ethan stood, running a hand over his tired face. Sighing, he gave them all a small wave and walked back inside.

He retreated in his dungeon of a room and only left it for filming and eating purposes. If Grayson wanted any time with him, Fortnite was the only way.

Y/N on the other hand refused to meet up face to face, claiming it would do no good for either of them anymore. She said distance gave her perspective.

Grayson concluded that is just a bunch of shit.

In order to have his life back and everything return to normal, Grayson crafted a plan. Such a plan wouldn’t be so hard to achieve, but it would be really mean. However, the end justifies the means and he didn't want to sit back and watch his life burn to ashes.

“Y/N?! You gotta come here! Ethan is hurt really bad and I don’t know what to do. I’m not sure he’ll make it.”

She read the message carefully, her jaw slacking and bottom lip quivering as she lost all sense in her body. There was no stopping the tears that came running down her cheeks like waterfalls, nor the constricting pain in her chest preventing her from drawing in a proper breath.

Grayson busted into Ethan’s room, shaking him awake. He knew catching his brother off guard would be his best chance to get this lie past him.

Lying was never Grayson’s strong suit.

“Ethan, we gotta go. Y/N got into an accident and they don’t know if she’ll make it.” Grayson’s voice cracked and the water he splattered over his face helped fake tears as well.

Ethan’s eyes widen and his mind goes in overdrive, throwing the covers off him, releasing incoherent grunt sounds as his breathing picks up speed.

Winded just by getting out of bed, Ethan stumbles past Grayson in his briefs and a tee, feeling like someone had a hand around his heart and the grip just tightened more than he could handle.

Half naked and jittery Ethan sat next to Grayson who had decided on driving a little faster than usual to keep his story believable.

Ethan didn’t say a word, tapping his hands on his thighs, his silence showing just how scared he is.

Whenever something happens, Ethan becomes eerily quiet while Grayson is the one openly losing it. It’s just how they are as people and it’s one of their main personality differences.

Coming to a stop in front of a hospital, Ethan jumps out quickly, heading toward the ER even though his legs felt like led. The dread he found inside his veins followed him since he heard the words the first time all the way to this ER and he has been praying to make it inside before collapsing to the ground.

However, before he got a chance, Ethan stopped short at the sight of her dressed in white before him.

“No. No!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, feeling the ripping pain in his throat as result.

“Ethan?” Y/N says so softly with tears brimming her eyes.

“You can’t be dead! You can’t! There is no me without you!” That’s when his strength disappears and the adrenaline is replaced by agony. Gravity takes hold and Ethan falls to his knees, seeing her run toward him in her white clothes. His vision blurs with tears and the pain in his chest bubbles to the surface in need of a release.

“You can’t be dead.” He whispers again in denial, tears falling, the hurt giving them weight until they crash before him on the pavement.

“Y/N, I never got to tell you...“ His soul shaking sobs stop him from speaking, eyes closing shut.

“I’m not dead. I’m here.” Y/N bites her lower lip, her shaky palms instinctively finding Ethan’s cheeks.

With her touch, Ethan takes in a sharp breath, opens his eyes and blinks away tears, finally looking up at her angelic face. He always found her ethereal. There was nothing earthly to compare her beauty to, no matter how hard he tried to find it.

“You’re not?” He speaks in a whisper, still afraid to believe she’s really there in case his mind is playing tricks on him.

“No, silly. I thought you were hurt. I got this weird text from Gray and I swear my heart stopped beating.” She pulled out her phone, showing Ethan who had clearly been angered.

Ethan's face contorted, an angry scowl taking place and eyes narrowing. He turned around, looking for any signs of his brother but with no success.

“He's so dead!“ Ethan stands abruptly, halting his movements once he feels her hand on his shoulder.

“Ethan, stop.“ She orders firmly without raising her voice and Ethan obeys without even realizing it. His gaze is naturally drawn to her, like he's a moth and she's his flame. No matter how many times he got burned, he still gravitated toward her.

“What did you fail to tell me? What is so important for you to say to me that you'd regret it for the rest of your life if I were truly dead?“ Y/N didn't hold back, demanding an answer to satisfy her curiosity and Ethan knew her. He knew she'd never let it go.

“That I...Was sorry I hurt you.“ Ethan made something up on the spot, taking a small pause while crafting his lies but that's where he made his mistake. It's how she knew he was lying.

“You're a liar now too?“ She scoffed, turning around. Walking away from Ethan was hard, but she's become too good at their goodbyes and too bitter about her inability to stay away from him despite the pain he caused.

Ethan followed after, still feeling the dreaded pain that shattered him from earlier, wanting to be closer.

“I'm protecting you, okay?“ He half shouted, looking around to see if there's anyone nearby. His words did stop her from walking away and a small smile instantly plastered itself on his face.

“Protecting me?“ Y/N chuckled in disbelief, her hand covering her lips before shoving a few strands of hair away from her face.

“From what, huh? Feeling happy? Feeling loved and appreciated? Feeling good enough to be important to you? Because, guess what? I feel like shit every damn time we go down this road! I won't repeat my words anymore. I'm done. You had my heart and you played it to the last beat, so if that's your half-assed apology in case of my death, rest assured I heard it and dismissed it like you dismissed me.“ Turning away from him, fumbling with her car keys, Y/N failed to notice Ethan approach her. But she couldn't ignore the touch of his hands sliding across her stomach as his arms wrapped around her.

She felt her sobs only when his arms pulled her closer, like the stability and pressure revealed her tiny, shaky chest and the tears threatening to escape any moment now.

“I'm protecting you from me.“ Ethan leaned down and whispered in her ear, his stubble grazing her cheek sends chills down her spine and her breath turns ragged.

“All I ever did was hurt you. And it kills me. Every day. I’m not good enough for you...Because I'm meant to make you happy and I never could. I could never be the guy who stops time for you just by sharing a longing look. You did that for me, but I never could for you. I'm not the man you're supposed to end up with. Love shouldn't be this hard.“ Ethan kept his voice steady and his words painfully honest, until he felt her lean into him and relax completely.

“You stopped time for me the day we met...When I opened my eyes with your hand on the back of my head and your entire body crushing me on the pavement. I felt that. And every day after that. You’ve always been able to do that for me. You were always good enough.“ Y/N admitted, biting down on her lower lip before wiggling her way out of his arms with the sole purpose of looking into his eyes with the saddest smile Ethan ever saw.

Her palms laid flat against his chest and his heart beats wildly at the contact. Her eyes don't waver, immersing themselves into his and he feels it again: time stops. Her hair is pulled back due to the wind, her eyes tearing up, her lips pressed together in a pout and he knows she felt it too.

“Time stops for me too.“ She repeats, her sad smile spreading wider and a tear followed soon after.

“And I love you, Ethan Grant Dolan. No matter how hard I tried not to. I will love you till the world stops turning and whatever comes after that. I'll never stop, so the ball is in your court now.“ Y/N finished her speech, looking at any indications of her answer upon Ethan's lips, but nothing comes out. With a slight nod, she begins to turn, breaking their eye contact.

Just as she does so, she feels strong arms pulling her back, closer, and a pair of lips upon her own. It lasts for a moment, so short she was unsure if it even happened. But once she looks into Ethan's eyes and the glint he suddenly had on full display, she knows it did.

“I loved you since the moment I first saw you. I have a lot to make up for, but I'd like to start today.“ Ethan squeezed in a few words before attaching his lips to hers again for good measure, feeling her smile into the kiss which became his only response.

“I've waited for this for so long. It's like a Spanish telenovela!“ Grayson comes out from behind her car with a smirk.

Ethan and Y/N break apart, turning to look at him with narrowed eyes and back at each other.

“I both want to kiss you and kill him. I’m not sure what to do.“ Ethan's voice is dangerously low and 'cool' as Grayson refers to it and he knows he might be in for a run.

“I got you two together. I'm sure that's a cause for celebration not murder!“ Grayson's voice goes a little higher as he takes a few steps back, making both Ethan and Y/N smile.

“Go get him.“ Y/N whispers, giving Ethan a quick peck before watching him take off after his screaming brother with a smile on her lips.

Tags: @accalialionheart @xalayx @peacedolantwins

#ethan dolan #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan x reader #dolan twins #ethan dolan angst #ethan dolan fanfic #ethan dolan fic #ethan dolan fanfiction #ethan dolan fluff #ethan dolan x you #grayson dolan

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the-lupine-sojourner · 6 years ago

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Requested Aizawa/Reader Angtsy Story

Okay! So I wanted to try my hand at this request because for some reason I am in the mood for angst.

Hope you like it, Anon! I’m going to add the screenshot @my-heroes-are-here sent me.

Anyway, hope you all enjoy this, too, despite the angst. :) I apologize for any OOC behavior on Shota’s part, but, um, I think it’s justified, so...idk. Take this as you will.

God Bless and Good Day!

~The Lupine Sojourner

It wasn’t supposed to happen.

You and Shota were supposed to enjoy the day off together. But now there was no going back and your backs were against a wall.

“Eraserhead, you okay?” You ask tiredly, panting and trying not to show just how exhausted you were. Your Quirk was Ribbon, where anything you wanted became a ribbon, malleable to your will as long as your energy lasted.

Now, you were almost at your limit and you knew Eraserhead was nearing his limit, too.

“Focus, [Your Hero Name]!” He hisses back, not mad, just determined to wrap this up. The thugs came closer. This gang was no smalltime crew. They had spent a fair deal of time as a team and could work together almost flawlessly. Shota wrapped one in his capture weapon and swung her into several more of the thugs and you wrapped a weapon in your concrete ribbon, yanking it away and grabbing it as you tugged the ribbon back to you. It was a sword, likely made via the thug’s Quirk. Regardless, it was something you could use, so you charged back in with your boyfriend and began to lose yourself in the fight, running on adrenaline and willpower.

Unfortunately, so was Shota, and you saw too late the spike from a thug’s metal control Quirk slamming toward Shota’s back. You leap out, shoving Shota out of the way. You are exhausted, however, and you end up right in the way of the spike. You meant to get out of the way, as well, but now you had a gaping hole in your abdomen, filled with agony and steel. Your scream silences the fight. Shota’s reaction nearly makes you shove off the spike and hug him. “Sh-sho...I...” Even the thugs are affected...standing there stunned. Apparently, they didn’t see your actions coming. Sirens in the distance bring life back to the warehouse you’re in and the thugs take advantage of Shota’s current frozen state, sprinting away like the cowards they were. You and Shota were alone. And you were dying. He slowly walks over before breaking down in sobs. He wasn’t screaming, he wasn’t begging you to hang on, but this was even worse pain than the spike.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” He murmurs shakily. “We...we were supposed to eat takeout and watch shitty TV and...and...” His shaking fingers reach into his pocket. You aren’t in a position to react much, but your eyes go wide and you gasp when you see a ring box in your boyfriend’s hand. “And I was finally going to propose...”

“Shota...” You whimper and Shota cups your hand, tears falling as he softly kisses you. “Yes.” You murmur when he pulls away. “I want...to...to marry...” He bites his lip and looks away, tears still streaming down his cheeks.

“Save your strength.” He instructs gently, standing beside you and grabbing your hand. Your blood slips down your chest and out of your mouth as the life slowly drains from your body. Tears fall down your cheeks.

“Sorry...” You sob, trying and failing to move your other hand over top of Shota’s.

“Please, just don’t move. We’ll...” He trails off, unsure what to do. Logically, you knew there was nothing to be done. You’d die, and for what? The villains got away and you weren’t able to completely shut down their operation. This was pointless. You were dying because in your stupidity you thought you could move the two of you out of the way. But no. You would die and for absolutely nothing. Shota didn’t let go of your hand as the police finally arrived. They took in the scene and immediately rushed over to you. “Don’t touch her!” Shota hisses. “She’s been stabbed through the abdomen. Moving her will kill her.” You can’t move, too sluggish and exhausted to do anything at all, even hold your boyfriend’s hand. Shota gives his statement quickly, noticeably forcing himself to be strong and not give in to more tears. Not with the police here. You gather what tiny fragments of strength you can find and squeeze Shota’s hand. Instantly, he stops talking and looks at you.

“...Love...you...” You whisper, voice wobbly and wavering as darkness crept into your vision and you found yourself slipping further into it. The last thing you saw was Shota’s distraught face. Reputation and appearance meant nothing to Shota in the face of this tragedy unfolding before him. He’s talking, but you can’t hear. You manage a tiny smile as the last vestiges of life leave you and you go limp.

If you had been able to hear, he said: “Please don’t go...don't leave me...”

#Fanfiction #Requested oneshot #Request from my-heroes-are-here's inbox #Angst warning #Death warning #Blood Warning #MHA #BNHA #Shota Aizawa #Shota Aizawa X Reader #MHA X Reader #X Reader Fanfiction #BNHA X Reader

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tomeandflickcorner · 7 years ago

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OUAT Episode Analysis- Flower Child

Well. That was quite the revelation. Now can we please kill Gothel already?

For this episode’s flashback, we end up turning back the clock further than we ever have before. Once, thousands of years ago, Gothel was a Tree Nymph. With blue skin and hair. And she lived with her mother and sisters in a sacred grove somewhere. But Nymph Gothel, in a very Ariel-like manner, was greatly interested in the lives of the humans who lived nearby. She often watched them and admired their lives to the point when she wanted to be a human, too.

One day, she ends up breaking into some fancy mansion so she could admire the ballgowns that hung within the humans’ closets. But she’s instantly discovered by a group of young women. Gothel attempts to apologize for her intrusion, but the young women tell her not to go, as they’d witnessed her magically produce a rose blossom. They state they are fascinated by her magic and want her to teach them in the magical arts. As a result, Gothel starts to pal around with the young human women. Eventually, the Nymph Mother finds out and steps in. She kindly tells Gothel that, no matter how much she might wish otherwise, she is not a human. And that the time will soon come when she will have to accept her place among the Tree Nymphs as she’s apparently next in line as their leader. Or something along those lines.

Regardless of the Nymph Mother’s words, Gothel continues to hang around with her human friends. But when Gothel decides to start training them in the ways of Nymph Magic, the young women reveal their true colors. Turns out, they were just a group of Mean Girls this whole time. And they were just leading Gothel along with the intention of publicly humiliating her, as they really view her and her people as freaks and abominations.

Devastated by this betrayal, Gothel returns to the sacred grove. But when she gets there, she discovers the insult was even greater. While she was being mocked and humiliated by the Mean Girls, a separate group of humans had lay siege to the sacred grove and completely destroyed it by cutting down and burning all the trees within the grove. Which, of course, resulted in the deaths of all the other Tree Nymphs, including the Nymph Mother.

Immediately, Gothel lets her heart grow bitter because of this. Filled with feelings of vengeance, she angrily returns to the human mansion to not only strike back at the Mean Girls, but everyone else as well. Basically, this whole backstory is a complete remake of Carrie, only with Tree People. Using her Tree Nymph magic, Gothel creates toxin-spewing flowers that….apparently killed every single human in the entire world. The only person she spared was a young woman named Seraphina, who reveals she could also use magic but had hidden her powers from the other Mean Girls out of fear of what they might do to her if her magical ability was revealed.

Once her mass genocide is complete, Gothel tells Seraphina that, eventually, life in this realm will once again emerge from the primordial ooze, and the world will become populated by humans all over again. But when that happens, they will be ready, and will strike back by returning magic to this world, which has now become a Land Without Magic. As she announces this, Gothel unearths a single magic bean from the remains of the now destroyed sacred grove, which she uses to open a portal that allows her and Seraphina to journey forth to increase their number, so they would eventually become the Coven of Eight.

So, according to this backstory, our world, the Land Without Magic, used to HAVE magic. And the only reason why it no longer does contain magic is because humans persecuted and killed the Tree Nymphs. And then the last remaining Tree Nymph went all Carrie on them by wiping out every single living creature, so life on Earth would have to start from the amoeba level all over again. Which is an interesting attempt at World Building. Not to mention the most bizarre ‘Creation’ story I’ve ever heard.

It also explains what Gothel’s motive is. Though it does NOT justify her actions in the slightest. Yes, she’s right- humans are generally horrible and are motivated by greed, hatred, selfishness and cruelty. I get it. Preaching to the choir, lady. I work in retail. I deal with the public every day. Not to mention my life is more or less controlled by corporate America. But she’s so wrapped up in her own twisted misanthropy, she has completely neglected to recognize that she’s ended up just as bad as the very humans she hated so deeply. Perhaps even more so. Case in point, the fact that she raped Wish Killian, tricked him into impregnating her, abandoned her baby the instant she was born and then trapped her in a tower for the rest of her life. As well as forcibly separating her from her loving father, who was the only companion she had. Not to mention how many lives and families she’s destroyed and ripped apart along the way.

But Gothel is apparently upping her game in Hyperion Heights. After spying on her with Margot/Robyn, Gothel approaches Tilly/Alice. Of course, Tilly states that she wants nothing to do with Gothel, but she’s stopped in her tracks when Gothel informs her that she’s her biological mother. Obviously, Tilly sees the impossibility of this statement, as Gothel only looks a few years older than her. But she then defiantly states that, even if what Gothel says it’s true, it doesn’t matter because it would mean Gothel abandoned her. And Tilly is not interested in getting to know a mother who would abandon her child. In response, Gothel starts spouting off a whole Sob Story™ about how she had a cruel life, as if that would excuse her actions, and then states she never would have walked out on her daughter if she’d known how special she was. Because Gothel apparently knows that Alice is the Guardian she was seeking. So, in other words, Gothel, you’re telling Alice/Tilly that you’d only care about your flesh and blood if they were of use to you? Yeah, spare me with your claims of being a mother. A REAL mother loves her children unconditionally, not just when they’re useful to them.

Thankfully, Tilly doesn’t fall for it, and she puts Gothel in her place by telling her that she is already wanted by people who really care for her, and therefore doesn’t need her before storming off. But she can’t shake away the uneasy feeling she’d feels. So she heads right over to the police station to see Rogers, who is in the middle of trying to come to terms with the impossible circumstances of Parallel Hansel’s death. How can someone be stabbed from the inside? Could it be that Naveen’s claim of magic being involved isn’t so impossible? So when Tilly starts telling him about her encounter with Gothel/Eloise, the gears in his head start to turn. Because it’s starting to sound like Naveen’s warning about a war brewing might not have been so far-fetched after all. He tells Tilly that, even though what she’s saying sounds crazy, he’s learned his lesson after the death of the Blind Baker. As such, he’s no longer going to doubt her words, no matter how crazy they might sound. This visibly delights Tilly, and the two head off to confer with Henry.

When they get to Henry’s apartment, he is initially reluctant to let them in, trying very badly to act casual and not act like he was hiding something. But when he hears Rogers and Tilly are starting to suspect something magical might be going on, what with Parallel Hansel’s impossible death and Elise/Gothel’s claims, he willingly lets them it. Because their words are pretty much vindication to him, as he’s set up this whole murder wall in his apartment. Ever since he saw the results of the blood test that named him as Lucy’s father, he’s become more open to the possibility that the stories in the book he wrote are real. While his attempts at convincing Jacinda of this were put on hold when Sabine called her up to help with the food truck (as Naveen/Drew is in police custody and is not able to make it to work), he’s grateful that Rogers and Tilly are starting to be on the same page as him. He shows them the evidence he’s compiled, from the fact that he found a photograph of Regina/Roni standing with eight-year-old him, his swan keychain, and even the fact that Rumpelstiltskin/Weaver’s teacup is identical to the Rumbelle teacup illustration from the New Storybook. Rogers wonders why Eloise/Gothel wouldn’t just use magic if she actually is a witch, but Henry counters this by pointing out that, in his book, this was called the Land Without Magic for a reason, and while there were trace elements of magic throughout the land, it probably wasn’t enough. And Gothel/Eloise probably would need a huge amount of magic to do whatever she’s planning

The discussion on the matter is interrupted when Rogers receives a phone call from the Desk Sargent, informing him that Gothel/Eloise was spotted skulking around the local theater. So Rogers goes to check it out, with Tilly tagging along. This leads to an adorable Knightrook moment, which starts with the visual proof that Tilly decorated Roger’s windshield with origami mushrooms and origami rabbit. And Rogers isn’t the slightest bit fazed by this. They start talking about Eloise/Gothel’s claims about how she is Tilly/Alice’s mother. Tilly admits she had always wanted a mother, and she’s wondering if she’ll find the missing part of her if she lets this woman in. But she has her doubts, because Eloise/Gothel doesn’t seem like the nurturing mother type. Rogers comforts her, stating that, even if Eloise/Gothel is right and she did give birth to her, it doesn’t mean she’s her mother, as it takes more than biology to be a real mother. He then gives her a marmalade sandwich that he just happened to have with him. Which suggests he regularly carries around Tilly’s favorite sandwich, just in case he’d run into her on the street. That is just adorable. Even though he still doesn’t remember, Rogers just can’t stop being fatherly to her. The Knightrook feelings are jumping off the scale here. Tilly even begins to thank Rogers for everything he’s done for her, from listening to her to letting her stay with him.

That’s when they spot Eloise/Gothel entering the theater, and they start to move in, with Tilly ignoring Roger’s request to stay put. This ends up to be bad, as the whole thing was a trap. The Desk Sargent has been hypnotized into helping Gothel in the coven, because apparently Gothel can hypnotize people now. When they enter the theater, Rogers and Tilly are immediately taken captive by the members of the Coven of Eight. Rogers angrily warns Gothel that he will kill her if she even tries to hurt Tilly, regardless of his police badge. But Gothel isn’t perturbed, stating that Tilly isn’t the one she plans to hurt. She and the rest of the coven drag Tilly and Rogers down to the very bowels of the theater, which are revealed to be the former location of the sacred grove where Gothel once lived with the other Tree Nymphs. Once they reach the site, Gothel tells Tilly that she expects her to help her and the other witches in casting a powerful spell. One that, I guess, will bring back the magic in this land and restore it to the way it was before the Mean Girls exterminated the other Tree Nymphs. She goes on to state that it’s time for Tilly to accept her place among them, as she can never belong to the world of the humans, and that the Coven of Eight is her real family, etc. etc.. Tilly, however, doesn’t fall for it, stating that, whatever Gothel might be, she is no mother to her. But in the end, Gothel manages to force Tilly into helping them by threatening to kill Rogers if she doesn’t comply. She even reveals the fact that they’re actually father and daughter. This threat ends up working, as Alice’s love for her father hasn’t been erased by the curse, resulting in Tilly caring deeply for Rogers. So of course she can’t let him be killed. As such, she reluctantly agrees to help Gothel and the other witches cast their spell, in spite of Rogers pleading her not to.

Meanwhile, there’s a whole supblot with Lucy going to Facilier, to ask him if he had another batch of magic that could help cure Henry of the poison inside him. He tells her that he can only help if Lucy can locate a symbol of Henry and Parallel Ella’s love. (I wonder. Is this why he wanted the Dagger? Was he planning to use it to break the curse somehow? If so, I’m kinda on Facilier’s side now.)

So Lucy gets her mother to dig some old boxes out of storage, claiming to be feeling nostalgic after Parallel Hansel/Nick’s true colors were revealed. While looking thorough the old boxes, they come across a box labeled ‘BL,’ which Jacinda states stands for ‘Before Lucy.’ Meaning this box contains traces of Jacinda’s life before she gave birth to her daughter. As they look through the box, they find things that Jacinda cannot explain- a T-shirt advertising Granny’s Diner back in Storybrooke. This excites Lucy, as she speculates that Henry must have brought that stuff with him before he left on his soul searching quest. (So, what they’re saying is that Parallel Ella had one of Henry’s t-shirts? Nice!) And, when they look into the paper take-out bag from Granny’s, they find… The Glass Slipper! Minus the fragment that Henry has.

Bursting with excitement, Lucy brings the Glass Slipper and the Glass Slipper Fragment to Facilier. With it, he is able to use his voodoo magic to eliminate the poison within Henry, thereby ensuring he won’t die when the curse is broken.

However, when Jacinda shows up at his place to inform him that she and Lucy found the Glass Slipper, resulting in her starting to believe in the possibility that she might actually be Cinderella after all, nothing happens when they kiss. Much to Lucy’s surprise, as she was really expecting their TLK would be the one to break the spell. I, however, am not surprised. Because the original Dark Curse was not broken by Snow and Charming’s TLK. It was Emma and Henry’s bond that did it. So I had my doubts that Henry and Parallel Ella would be the ones to break this Dark Curse. I suspect the secret lies in a different pair. Let’s see, it was the True Love between a mother and a son that broke the first Dark Curse. Maybe it will be the True Love between a father and a daughter this time around? Unless that pesky Cursed Heart issue gets in the way. That might be an issue.

(Click here to read more Episode Analyses)

#ouat episode analysis #ouat 7x19 #gothel #wish world!killian #detective rogers #alice jones #tilly #henry mills #parallel!cinderella #jacinda #lucy mills #dr facilier #naveen

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kifu · 4 years ago

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New Nation: 2

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Kurt sat perched at the edge of an old Berlin building. The broken road stories below him was empty. Tall, prickling weeds pushed out from the cracks in the pavement, with smaller and leafier plants filling in the spaces. Decaying paper, plastic, and other litter lined buildings where the wind didn’t reach as well. Some of the stone structures sported rotting wood over the windows as if to protect what was inside. Kurt knew the efforts were futile. Other shops and homes didn’t bother with their windows. Most were broken or cracked, but the buildup of grime on the glass spoke enough.

Berlin was far from abandoned. Curious animals too shy or scared to venture into the sprawling capitol had hardened their resolve. It wasn’t uncommon to see smaller wildlife in the middle of the city, poking its nose around or skittering about. People still lived here, but they didn’t move freely about like before. Through the dirty glass windows, one usually would find curtains or mini-blinds permanently obstructing view into the living space. Anyone that would walk the street moved with false confidence.

Quiet fury burned deep within Kurt over the past many months. He did nothing to stop this outcome under Scott’s dismissive command. His people of Germany – indeed, of the world – suffered for the X-Men’s lack of action. The team had disintegrated since, and Kurt returned home to Europe.

Even with the change in world regime, and Kurt’s unhidden efforts against the Nation, the general populace looked at the blue mutant with scorn. Humans had more spiteful ammunition against their special cousins and didn’t appreciate Kurt’s presence in fear of alliance to the Nation. He was one of Them, after all, and all mutants must have allegiance pledged to the tyrants. It was completely fabricated to justify their fears and Kurt did not pity them.

Kurt had to watch his back and all sides to stay alive. If the Nation were to catch him, he would expect he’d be found as an enemy of the Nation and be taken prisoner or executed. Neither appealed to him. If a human aligned with the group called the Human Backbone were to find him, they’d hunt him down until his head was on a platter. Kurt imagined the scenario wouldn’t play out much differently than Kurt’s life in the freak show part of the circus – or when he’d been blamed for a villager’s death before Charles Xavier found him. Between the two extremes, Kurt knew that anyone he helped could rat him out for personal gain.

Some people began to move about as the sun came up. Dawn, for whatever reason, was a prime time for the exchanges of black market. The Nation’s soldiers weren’t yet out in mass until the sun shone strongly at later early morning. Kurt watched over their backs until he saw signs of the Nation and then made his retreat to where he hid. Kurt would protect against civil dispute and Nation harassment at night, but couldn’t stay up all day to meddle in their affairs. He’d be identified and slaughtered if he’d pull such a stunt. Kurt had the unique ability to become one with the nighttime shadows to remain at large. He used that to his advantage.

The progression of lighting halted as the sun reached over the distant edge of clouds. Kurt had felt the oppression of damp air throughout the night, but a storm wouldn’t break. With the gift of daylight to brighten the sky, Kurt finally saw what he sensed. The last thing he wanted was to be wet. While the dark clouds didn’t look too heavy, he didn’t chance a sudden downpour.

In a flash and puff of brimstone, Kurt was no longer conducting surveillance over the street, but squatting in his bunker. Removing travel from Kurt’s life by teleportation helped him stay away from the Nation’s maw. He popped up in unexpected areas and immediately vacated when his life was at stake. He could fight, he could protect, but avoiding conflict was in his best interest.

He didn’t share his space with anyone else. Either no one wanted to be around him or Kurt couldn’t find anyone he could trust. Kurt’s blue, fuzzy skin, prehensile tail, and fanged teeth caused any human to shy away from him. It didn’t matter if he helped them out. On the flip side, Kurt had enough people take advantage of his friendly personality in the year since the Nation took over. With Scott’s blunder, Kurt couldn’t depend on another’s leadership. Yet Kurt wasn’t ready to be a leader himself, even with his experience with Excalibur, those years ago.

His recent place of sleep was bleak. After the villains took over governments, Kurt didn’t have much chance to return to the Americas and pack his meager belongings. If the X-Mansion still existed after enemy raids in the early stages of the New Nation, Kurt didn’t want his things anyway. Posters, street clothes, and unhandled swords weren’t going to help anyone. Now, all Kurt kept was a change of clothes, a relatively clean blanket, a notebook of surveillance notes, and a cheap hoard of pens. With fewer possessions, it was harder to carelessly leave things behind and easier to make a quick getaway.

Currently, Kurt resided in an old, abandoned castle. Germany had enough of them that the government didn’t want anything to do with them. Some of the lesser villains preferred the security of the stone while others collected lavish possessions in distant mansions. All were greedy and power-hungry, regardless. Kurt liked exploring the history of his own country through the rooms. Most items were missing or broken, but enough was left to intrigue him.

Through the modest window installed in Kurt’s chosen room, he could see that the clouds finally broke. He sent thanks to his good fortune. The drops fell in small clusters, slowly. So long as a storm didn’t accompany the precipitation, the former Nightcrawler would have a peaceful night.

A piercing scream broke Kurt out of his barren dreams. He blinked out of confusion until the woman screamed again. He recognized pain and fear in her panicked calls. Clambering to all fours, whipping his ratty blanket aside, Kurt teleported into the antechamber at the great front door. A distraught woman in wet, clingy clothes and a young man with a similar disheveled appearance wandered urgently around the great room. When Kurt arrived, the man was towing the woman around, guiding her to a place to rest. Mixed with the rain water was a fair amount of blood from some unknown origin on the woman’s body.

„Mein Gott, hilfe mich,“ she begged. Sobs found their way into her voice.

„Behruhig,“ the man replied calmly. His body language, on the other hand, betrayed his panic. Along with continuously checking the young woman over for her injuries, he glanced back at the door and around the room. Someone caused this and may still be after the couple.

Kurt stepped out from the dark corner he had teleported into. „Entschuldegung, meine Freunden,“ Kurt announced. Hopefully simply asking for their attention wouldn’t send them into a frenzied panic.

The woman screamed even before she caught sight of Kurt. Upon seeing his obvious mutant stature, she screamed harder and moved to scramble away. The man yelled at him, threatening him. „Come closer and I swear I’ll kill you,“ he warned in German.

„I’m not here to hurt you,“ Kurt replied in the same tongue. „Is someone after you?“

„Get out of here.“ The man wasn’t listening to Kurt. Even with Kurt’s hands out prone in the air, he was on the defensive. Meanwhile, his partner was throwing herself into a panic attack. Now that mutants and other super powered beings with an ego took over the world, like any cliché villain aspired to do, humans had an even harder time accepting Kurt’s kind.

„I wish to help, sir,“ Kurt persisted.

„You’ve helped enough, freak.“ The man growled like Kurt’s old friend, Logan, and placed himself well between Kurt and the woman.

„You’re in my castle and I have some medical background,“ Kurt continued. He didn’t want to define the structure as his property or express superiority, just explain his presence to the pair. At this rate, the woman would bleed out. She continued to whimper and scramble in the background for whatever reason, the pain evident on her face. „She needs help.“

„Not by your kind.“ The man expressed typical human behavior. He was being reasonable, yet it was still frustrating.

Kurt stepped forward, trying to make himself less threatening. „Please, I can only help.“

Without verbally answering him this time, the strange man dashed forward in attack. A primal growl escaped his mouth as he lunged to punch. Kurt side stepped with ease. The man looked confused in his stance for a heartbeat when he realized his fist didn’t connect with its target. Kurt vaguely heard the girl scream behind him. Overcoming his hesitation, he turned around and tried again. Kurt ducked under his clumsily thrown punch and sidled behind him. „I will not hurt you.“

„Dietmar, bitte. Hӧr auf!“ Her voice wasn’t as strong as it was before.

„She needs help,“ Kurt persisted.

Only fury shone through the man’s eyes. He was bested by a blue fuzzy freak and he didn’t enjoy the humiliation. He tried a different tactic and threw an uppercut at Kurt’s temporarily stationary form. Again, Kurt dodged the blow with ease.

„Stop it,“ the woman begged. „The others are going to find us.“

„Others?“ Kurt repeated. „Did someone hurt you?“

„Shut up,“ the man snapped. He held up his fists as if to strike again but didn’t. Kurt could see the fighting calculation in his eyes, yet he was weary to be bested again. His stance on Kurt’s involvement, on the other hand, was unwavering.

Kurt glanced back and forth between the hesitant Dietmar and frightened woman. He didn’t owe these people anything, but if he abandoned them now, all his efforts within the last year would be for naught. „Sie sind ein Dummkopf,“ Kurt muttered impatiently under his breath.

„What?“ Dietmar demanded. Of course, now he listened, when Kurt didn’t want him to hear what he said.

„I cannot help you if you do not help yourself,“ Kurt told him. „I cannot help her, understand?“

„I don’t want your help. I don’t need your help. Go back to where you came from!“ He took a step forward, closer in Kurt’s range of motion, yet he didn’t strike again. Kurt remained alert, but assumed a relaxed position. Exuding anything but pacifism could tip this situation from bad to worse.

Deciding not to comment on Dietmar’s demand, Kurt also took a step backward. It brought him closer to the woman, but displayed submission simultaneously. He hunched downwards, bringing himself closer to the stone ground. He depended further on his tail to balance himself than before, which he had tried to not bring attention to earlier. Fuzzy blue skin and pointy teeth were alarming enough.

„Leave!“ he shouted. This time, after standing around idle but full of threats, he quickly covered the ground between the two of them. He swung another punch, which Kurt dodged as easily as the ones previously, but threw an off-hand jab with his other hand as well. The second fist caught Kurt in the gut, throwing his balance backwards and landing him backwards on his tail. He snaked his tail underneath him, brushing the floor with it so that he could push himself back into a squatting position. Dietmar turned around like a wild bull, squaring his body in Kurt’s direction.

„I cannot leave, for you are in my home,“ Kurt insisted. His words came out breathier than he expected. He didn’t feel out of breath from the blow.

Dietmar bellowed in a wordless, feral scream, but Kurt thought he heard another noise right before his fit of rage. His ear pricked toward the door, alerting him to something on the other side. „Remember when you mentioned that someone may be following you?“ Kurt asked politely. Dietmar seemed not to notice, but he could see the lady’s flash of alarm from behind him. „I think they’re here. I can get you two to safety.“

„Why do you continue trying to help us?“ the lady asked. Kurt grabbed Dietmar’s attention well enough so that he broke his predatory gaze on him and looked out into the stormy weather.

„Because helping is what I do,“ Kurt told her. „Are you okay?“

„No. My stomach is bleeding.“ Kurt’s heart sank. Stomach wounds were terribly fickle creatures and he didn’t think he had the know-how to take care of one. It might help if he also knew the cause.

„Dietmar, listen to me,“ Kurt begged. „I can take you somewhere they can’t – “

Kurt was cut off when a platoon of men burst into the castle’s door, dripping fiercely onto the stone floor. They held knives and small guns easily hidden under clothing to protect them from the weather. Kurt hated dealing with guns.

„Nightcrawler,“ one of the Nation hissed. However the man knew him didn’t matter. If he knew Kurt, then he would also know that Kurt was fully against their side. „Take out the mutant!“ he trumpeted.

„Sheiße!“ Kurt gasped under his breath. Men with pistols pulled them out and took poor aim on the mutant, pulling the trigger before they had him fully within their sights. Dietmar yelled and covered his head, running further into the castle to get away. In his fight for self-preservation, he completely left his companion and foe behind. Kurt, on the other hand, pushed himself toward the lady, grabbing her roughly for simple contact so that he could teleport her away. „I’m sorry,“ he told her right before they ended up in a different room: Kurt’s room.

Teleporting other people with him caused a lot of strain on both his and her bodies. She passed out, her body already weak from the wound in her lower torso. Kurt gently lowered her to the ground so that she wouldn’t hit her head. Kurt was more used to the strain on his body, having teleported many people over many years. The effort it took to move her a few hundred feet in a split second was akin to someone running with her on their back in the same distance. If that someone was conditioned, they could do it with ease.

While the lady was out cold, Kurt decided to take a look at what he was dealing with so that he could help fix her up. He lifted her shirt just enough so that he could see the source of the blood. She was wrong. It wasn’t her stomach that was pierced, but appeared to be more to the side where her spleen was. The spleen wasn’t something he wanted to deal with, either. She need its functions to continue breathing properly. „Sheiße,“ he repeated. He lunged across the room and grabbed his clean shirt that he had laying beside his makeshift bed. He bit the fabric, pulling it, until it ripped into a long strip. He continued to pull it apart until he only had strips left. He used one strip to stuff into the wound, immediately winding another around her body and pulling it tight. He didn’t have anything else to help her out. Once she was bandaged up, he picked her up and set her on top of his blanket, pulling the free half over top of her to keep her warmer. „I’ll be right back,“ he promised her.

Kurt whipped around, careful to pick up his tail so that he didn’t slap her body with it. With a powerful release of his muscles, he launched himself forward, darting up a wall and crawling along them as he made his way through the castle. He needed to find Dietmar.

The first sign of life in the hallways happened to be a pair of Nation goons. Kurt heard them before they saw him, but they acted as if Kurt’s position on the walls was the best discovery in their life. One pointed up at Kurt, shouting in excitement, holding a longer dagger in his other hand. The other followed his partner’s gesture and lifted a pistol into the air. He took better care to aim than everyone had in the castle’s antechamber. Kurt teleported at the same time he heard a shot ring out from the pistol. The sound was deafening. Kurt reappeared behind the man, immediately wrapping his tail around his waist to throw him to the ground. The other man had to recover from shock with Kurt’s disappearance before he could act appropriately. By the time Kurt kicked the gun out of the first man’s hand, leaped over his body to grab it, and resituated himself to aim at the second man, he only managed to turn around.

“Oh.”

„Put the knife down,“ Kurt ordered. He flicked his gun downwards before pointing it back at the man’s chest. The other goon flexed to get up, but Kurt swatted him back down with his tail.

The man set the dagger down, kicking it down the hallway away from the three of them. „Danke,“ Kurt said. In two swift movements, he pistol whipped the man on the ground and cracked a hard-hitting punch to the second man’s head to decommission them. He teleported away, popping up near the knife just long enough to pick it up, and reappeared further down the hallway, out of sight from the pair of goons. He took out enough time from forward momentum to shove the knife into the side of his pants, hoping dearly he wouldn’t slice himself open.

Again, Kurt took to the walls, swooping up toward the ceiling only long enough to deposit the pistol in the rafters. He didn’t have a use for a gun, but he also didn’t want his enemies getting their hands on it. They had more than enough ammunition as it was. Soon enough, Kurt ended up in the castle’s antechamber. No one else was present. Without hesitation, Kurt jumped to the ground, picking the hallway that Dietmar had fled down. He used all fours to cover more ground in a timely manner.

Another pair of Nation soldiers were searching each room in the castle methodically down this hallway. Kurt knew because the doors he carefully kept closed were wide open, the meager relics left in the castle tossed about. He reached the last room to have been opened, popping up in the doorway as he skidded to a stop. „Searching for me?“ he taunted.

„Get him!“ the same man that had known Kurt’s show name shouted.

„Who? Me?“ Kurt asked innocently. His answer came quickly enough. Both these men had pistols, but their aims were only as good as displayed in the antechamber. Kurt launched himself upwards, crawling into the dark rafters for camouflage. „Is that the best you can do?“ he called from the dark. He knew that if he was careful, they wouldn’t be able to see him at all.

„Show yourself, coward!“

„Am I the coward?“ Kurt asked them. „I’m not the one hiding behind a gun.“ In a puff of brimstone, he appeared behind one of the men, grabbing him forcefully from behind. The man let out a freak shot into the room without aiming, barely missing his partner. „I hope you counted your shots. I think you are out.“

The soldier dropped his gun, reaching backwards to claw at the mutant holding him hostage. His partner lifted his pistol, trying to take aim behind the squirming man. „Don’t shoot me!“ his partner cried.

„Drop it,“ Kurt demanded. He pulled the knife out from his beltline with his tail, transferring it to his dominant hand. He held it up to the man’s throat. They didn’t need to know that Kurt wouldn’t kill him, but he would certainly make it look that way.

The soldier hesitated and strengthened his grip on the pistol, using both hands instead of one. „Please,“ his partner pleaded. „I don’t want to die.“

„Let him go,“ the soldier with the gun demanded.

„Or?“ Kurt prompted.

„I will kill you.“

“You will kill me anyway,“ Kurt pointed out. Kurt bent low at the knees, switching his hold on the knife in his hand so that he didn’t accidentally slice into the man’s throat. Grabbing onto his shirt with his free hand, Kurt flipped him over his back, sending him tumbling to the ground. Tossing his knife upwards, Kurt caught it with his tail and darted forward on all fours toward the second man. He altered his pattern so that he couldn’t take aim. The man hesitated to shoot until Kurt had already grabbed his wrist with both hands, throwing the barrel toward the rafters. They struggled for a moment until Kurt felt the man feebly punch at his chest. It hurt, but didn’t do any real damage. Kurt angled his body, throwing all his weight into the soldier until he lost his balance. The gun clattered across the floor and Kurt landed heavily the soldier’s side. He bounced up in a somersault, easily landing on his feet and whipping around. The last soldier groaned on the ground, but the other one had grabbed his gun, taking aim at Kurt. He squeezed off a shot before Kurt could teleport away. He felt hot pain enter and exit his shoulder, but at least the wound was clean.

Kurt popped up behind the last soldier on his feet, sending a punch at his lower back, aiming for his kidney. He went down with barely a cry of pain. „What did I say?“ Kurt asked.

He took his time in leaving the room, inspecting his shoulder as he walked. Hot blood seeped from the wound, but it didn’t appear to have hit anything really important. Kurt could still feel his fingers on that arm. He had more important things to worry about at the moment.

Running on all fours wasn’t as much an option to Kurt as it was before. Instead, he took to running down the hallways, working at a slower pace so that he didn’t exhaust himself. For some reason, he found it harder to use two limbs instead of four when trying to move quickly. He eventually ended up in the castle’s kitchen, which was clear of the soldiers. To save time, he teleported back to the antechamber and took the last hallway to the right.

Kurt didn’t count the number of soldiers that burst into the castle behind the couple, but if he had to guess, a half dozen would have made them up. If that were the case, he only had another couple of men to take down before the castle would be more or less secure. Then he could focus his efforts on finding Dietmar and getting the lady to a place that could help her. Both tasks were dangerous, possibly more dangerous than finding the known enemies.

Kurt navigated the last hallway at a walk, pressing his thumb into the wound to better staunch the bleeding. It hurt like a thousand bees stinging him all at the same time, over and over again, but he did it anyway. He could be comforted in knowing that the bullet was gone, though, and that he didn’t need to worry about it getting embedded in his flesh and causing an infection. If he could find someone to sew him back up, he’d be good as new in a couple weeks. He’d lay low for a while until it healed well enough that he didn’t have to worry about it getting dirty.

Instead of finding the pair of soldiers, Kurt ran across Dietmar again. He came at him with a knife poised dramatically over his head, shouting at the top of his lungs like a madman. Kurt ducked and threw himself forward, shooting through Dietmar’s legs and tripping him up with his tail. The man fell with a heavy thud, taking his time in getting to his feet.

„Did you take care of the other two?“ Kurt asked. He stood at his full height, looking down at Dietmar. He offered his hand to the man to help him to his feet.

Dietmar didn’t look too happy to be in Kurt’s presence again. He batted Kurt’s hand to the side, but didn’t attack him again. Kurt thought he was making progress. He didn’t even lunge at Kurt again when he lumbered to his feet, grunting and growling to himself as he did so. Dietmar turned to regard Kurt, a scowl plain across his face, but acted more complacent. „Ja, zwei.“

„I got the other four before I found you. I also took your girlfriend to safety. She needs to see someone quickly.“

„She’s not my girlfriend!“ Dietmar shouted. He bristled up as if he was going to strike at Kurt again, but held himself in place. His fists bunched up angrily by his sides, his fingers working out the rage.

„Es tut mir Leid,“ Kurt apologized. „Friend?“

„Sister.“

Kurt felt a heavy weight drop onto his chest. He didn’t have a whole lot to family growing up, but he knew how important family was. The X-Men turned out to be his family once Professor Xavier took him in. „You better come quick,“ Kurt suggested. „I can teleport us there – “

„I’m walking.“ Dietmar pushed past Kurt to walk down the hallway to get to the antechamber. Kurt had to jog to get beside him again in order to lead the way. Once Kurt was back in his line of view, Dietmar increased his pace to match Kurt’s until they reached where Kurt was staying. Dietmar shoved Kurt with his forearm, flashing to his sister’s side and falling into a kneeling position beside her. She was still out cold, as were the guards further down the hallway that Kurt had dispatched earlier.

„Dietmar, do you know of anyone that can help her? As you can imagine, I haven’t made very many friends.“ Kurt needed to press the urgency onto the young man so that they didn’t lose her.

„Ja …“ Dietmar said uncertainly. „Ich glaube schon.“

„She should not be moved. Whomever you know needs to be brought here. Go get them. I’ll make sure that the soldiers don’t attack again.“

„Why should I trust you?“ Dietmar asked. He turned around at the waist to level a glare at the blue mutant, but hand still held his sister’s. He really cared for her, but still did not trust Kurt.

„I’ve done all I could. I brought her to safety and you to her. You will have to trust me off of that.“ Kurt stepped away from the door, giving Dietmar room to leave if he wished. „You must act fast if you wish to save her.“

Dietmar turned his gaze back to his sister and leaned down to kiss the hand that he held. Gently setting it down on top of her chest, he rose to his feet. His shoulders were hunched and his eyes were cast down, but only for a moment. He strode forward strongly, pointing aggressively at Kurt when he passed. „You better be gone when I get back,“ he said.

„As you wish,“ Kurt replied with a respectful bow. Dietmar left the room, leaving Kurt to watch over his sister.

Kurt squatted beside her, checking her relative temperature with his hand. She felt a little warmer than necessary, but nothing alarming yet. If Dietmar hurried, she could still make it without a hiccup. Kurt stroked her hand and fingers, trying to be comforting even though she was unconscious. He stayed in that position for what felt like an eternity, periodically checking on the heat coming off her forehead and taking her pulse. Her breathing stayed consistent.

Footsteps rang through the hallway, pulling Kurt away from the girl. As they approached, Kurt could tell that they weren’t the soldiers’. The soldiers wore heavy leather boots, and while they weren’t uniform, they were consistent out of the six. There were two sets of steps, and Kurt could feel the urgency from them as they came closer. Dietmar was back with help.

Kurt scrambled to gather up his pens and notebook, grabbing the rest of his extra clothes that he hadn’t used on Dietmar’s sister. He couldn’t very well grab his blanket from her, so his belongings were effectively cut in half. Holding everything in one arm, Kurt scaled the wall nearest him and crawled into the rafters seconds before Dietmar and his friend burst into the room. They panted heavily.

„Are you still alive?“ Dietmar asked with alarm, falling to his knees beside his sister. He turned around to his friend when he determined her life.

„Excuse me,“ his friend said. „I’ll need some space.“ He bent over the girl with a stethoscope in hand, pressing it against her lungs. Next, he examined the wound. His tongue clucked against the roof of his mouth. „Damage to the spleen,“ he observed. That wasn’t news to Kurt. „Gun shot?“ Dietmar nodded. „The bullet still appears to be inside her. No exit wound. Hopefully it didn’t shatter inside. It appeared to miss her ribs on the way in.“

Even though the girl was far from out of the woods, Kurt let go of a heavy sigh. The weight that pressed to his shoulders when he discovered her relation to Dietmar lifted. She was in good hands now. Much better hands than Kurt could offer her. He climbed further into the rafters, bamfing away when he was as high as he could get. He was sure that they could hear the sound from where they were on the ground, but at least Dietmar couldn’t go after him. Kurt just had to make sure that the girl was okay.

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