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It started when I was little, my uncle would come into my room and he would touch me in places my mother had said no one should touch me. I was sixteen when he raped me for the first - and final - time. I had been telling him that I wasn’t going to let him do this anymore, that he shouldn’t be touching me - at all. He threw me to the ground, stripped me - as I fought him - and raped me. Someone got him off of me, but the damage was done. I was sent to live in Tranquility, Nevada, in the US of A, halfway across the world! To say I wasn’t happy would be an understatement. I was furious. I didn’t want to move but mother said I had to if I wanted to live far enough away that no one would know that had been hurt in such a way. I hated her logic, but she was right; not even my father wanted to see me after his brother raped me...I hated my weaknesses, I would hurt anyone who hurt my family - even if it killed me. That was promised myself on the plane ride to my cousin on my mothers sides family. My cousin Samuel Witwicky, was gone on the day I arrived in sunny Nevada. I bump into someone and drop my carry on and my book, I flinch as I hurry to get my things picked up. I don’t notice someone is helping me until I reach for something to find it not there where I knew it was a moment ago. I look up into bright, almost glowing blue eyes set in a handsome face. I can’t help but check him out, and I would be damned to admit this to anyone but he is fine, even if he looks to be in his early forties, late thirties maybe. “Are you alright?” He asks me, continuing to watch me. I blush, nodding my head and avoid looking into his eyes. I can feel him watching me as I look for Sammy and aunt Judy. When I spot them they are talking to the blue-eyed hottie-I mean-man I met earlier. I head over to them. I’m not even halfway to them when when aunt Judy spots me. “MARKUS!” she calls to me. I blush as blue-eyes turns around and spots me in my aunts bear hug. “Aunt Judy!” I nearly whine, “Can I breathe? Honestly aunt Judy, you're suffocating me!” to prove my point I was allowing my skin to turn a bit blue. (You see, my skin is naturally blue, and I'm not actually my parents son, they adopted me from a man on the X-Men named Kurt Wagner or Nightcrawler. I was my father’s son through and through though I will admit not entirely seeing as I am gay, and he is not.) She pulls back and studies me. “Still hiding it?” She doesn’t seem at all happy with me hiding the fact that I’m a mutant. I nod a bit sad. “It’s not my fault though!” I tell her “The flight attendants were being vulgar about my tail saying stuff that I would rather not repeat at all! So I went and asked the captain if they could make them stop and he said he was too busy to deal with a freak like me! So I just hid in the bathroom for the entire flight and I didn’t want any more comments so I put the bracelet on instead.” To my happiness even Blue eyes was looking angry, even Sammy was looking mad-and he isn't one to get mad! “Mom can we go and tell them who he is the son of? I mean they wouldn't treat someone who isn't a mutant like that! So they shouldn't treat the son of an X-Man like that! Or anyone whether they be famous or not!”
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“My life began in the city of Baton Rouge, on September 3rd of 1987. I was 5 years old when I was found outside a fire station. For almost 13 years I was bounced from foster home to foster home. When I was almost 18 years old, I Presented as an Omega. I didn’t think it was a big deal, but apparently older Omegas don’t like younger ones in their home. When I went downstairs, I was hissed at by Mrs. Bents, my Omega foster mother, while her Alpha and husband, Mr. Bents, just stared at me for a minute before both of them looked at each other, then they herded me upstairs. I didn’t realize what was happening before it was too late. I remember blood and pain and then hearing screaming and sirens.” I sit up from where I’m laying across the couch, unable to continue. “I think that is enough for today, Kuro.” My therapist, Santiago, a blind older man of about 30, says, “you did very well today, especially because I know you don’t like to talk that much.” He raises his hands, a gesture I’ve gotten used to over the year I’ve been going to him. I help him stand and steady him as I guide him out to the reception area of his home and office. We are quiet as we walk, when I am leaving he calls out that the next session will be at my own home and cafe. I smile. When I arrive there are already a few people waiting for me to open the cafe. Two of them, fraternal Alpha twins, come here regularly. I also see that they brought a trio of Alphas with them. I wave to the twins and their friends before I turn to open the door. I sigh when I find that the door isn’t locked, apparently I forgot to lock it in my hurry to be on time to my appointment with Santiago. I turn the lights on as I enter and slip around the counter flipping lights on and warming up the frappé machine. I eat a granola bar with some milk for my pill. I am just about to take it when I spot someone, probably one of the Alpha trio that Alec and Jane brought, watching me avidly. I pause for a moment, before downing my pill. I get to the counter and start taking orders. When I am done with almost everyone Jane and Alec get in the line with a paper in one of their hands, each. When they get to me they hand me the papers and I ring their order up, which amounts to €44.50. They almost always clear me out after the morning rush. I sigh because, once again, they have cleared me out. But I am grateful to them because they are my most informative critics when it comes to my cooking. When I look up I nearly jump out of my skin because of the towering Alpha in front of me. He is one of the trio that Alec and Jane brought. “Scusa, non volevo spaventarti, ma mi stavo chiedendo dov’è 'il tuo bagno?” He ask me softly. “Non parlo molto bene l'italiano.” I blush as I say this, shame coloring my scent. He blinks before softly smiling. “I said sorry for frightening you and asked where your restroom is.” He says in perfect English. “Through those western saloon doors to the right of the front door.” I tell him. He nods in thanks before leaving the counter. I start on Alec and Jane’s order, I finish faster than I usually do. I take a carry tray, load everything and start to their table. When I arrive I look up and nearly faint due to the blood rushing to my face.
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“Thinking”“Speaking”Doing/Narrative I had just been raped for the first time when I was fifteen years old. I had been on the street for five years. When he finished someone walked into the alleyway and shot him. Then they threw a trench coat over my bare body, where I was curled on the ground, crying. They told me if I wanted help protecting myself that they would help me learn, so I looked up at him - because what girl wears military boots? - and found myself staring at a girl with all black on, with a gun in hand. “Well are you going to help yourself or stay there crying like a child?” She snapped, in answer I got off the ground holding the coat close to myself, to help cover the fact that I was a boy. “My name to you is Sir Hellsing, got it?” She asked. I nodded. “Do you not know how to give a verbal answer?” She asked. I shook my head. She sighed. I look down, ashamed and disappointed that I couldn't answer her properly. I would have loved to be able to speak again, however I was ashamed to admit that my father, a doctor, had cut my vocal cords in my sleep when I was six years old, he said I cried to much. He was an alcoholic who was not all that good when he was drunk. He hated me to put it lightly, said I was the reason mom had died (despite the fact that he killed her in a drunken rage and had spent a ton of money to stay out of jail). He had left me here in London when he went to a conference on the job. When I looked up, thrown out of my reverie by Sir Hellsing clearing her throat, I was thrown for a loop when I saw a guard look-a-like staring at me, he bends down and says something in her ear, which makes her grin for a moment then frown. Her gaze turns to me with a slight glare. “When were you going to tell me you were a boy?” She asks it calmly but I can tell she's mad. I try and say something to defend myself but I forget about the scar tissue that sometimes opens when I try and speak. And I blood gushes out of my mouth with a garbled word, immediately the man is there, hushing my cries and glaring at her, while trying to get me to close my mouth - which I do, grudgingly. “You didn't tell me he was hurt!” The man growls - like a werewolf or vampire or something. He starts to search me with his hands - he is much more gentle than anyone who I've ever seen on the street. When he gets to my bottom I start to whimper, not knowing it only made him more determined to see what was wrong. He gently starts to rock me as he gently slides a hand down my back to my entrance that still has dried blood around it, and is still leaking blood and semen. I cry out in pain and fear as he gently pushes a finger inside of my entrance. He dries my tears as he coos to me, continues rocking me and softly starts to sing a lullaby. I fall asleep slowly but surely, gripping the lapels of his trench coat in my small hands.
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She started small and slowly grew. People call her a problem but I don't care what they say I'm keeping this baby. This is a show of the fact that he was real and here, with me, if only for a little while. This shows that he loved me and will always be here, with me, if only through our child. She maybe a “demon’s child” as they call her but she’s mine and his, and that’s all that matters. I am 8 and ½ months along when I went to the bank and nearly lose her because of a robbery. They shot me and missed her but just barely. I started labour early and it lasted for almost 8 hours, it was a hard birth, but she made into the world crying her little lungs out. I cried for the first time in 8 and ½ months, all because I knew someone was going to take her from me. My own mother signed away my rights to my baby because she hated small children. I hated her, so i took my baby at night and signed myself out, I had planned for this so I wouldn't lose her. The doctors were in on it, they knew it wasn't right so they helped me set up in America where I wouldn’t be judged like this city of Rio de Janeiro. I moved to the city of New York and set up shop near Stark Tower, one of the doctors came with me to help me with my baby girl, he is my only father figure in my life. I wanted to walk around Central Park with my beautiful little Rosie so I could have some alone time with her. My doctor, Dr. Banner, came with me and was on high alert the entire time, guarding me I guess you could say. He was looking around for someone to show up I think, someone important perhaps? I was about to ask him when a redheaded woman ran up to him and started to talk to him rapidly about something. He shakes his head at something, sighs and then nods. He comes up to me and starts to sign to me that he has to go when the woman tugs his arm insistently, he shakes her off. “Are you going to be okay getting back to the apartment by yourself?” he finishes. I nod and make a shooing motion with my free hand. He kisses my forehead then leaves with the insistent redhead. I continue to rock Rosie and sing quietly to her in Spanish, until someone taps me on the shoulder. I look up and then get scared, it’s a man, a really tall, well equipped, blond, blue-eyed man, but he doesn't look mad, he looks concerned? I tilt my head to the side and quietly ask what he needs, mind you I can't hear myself, so I probably said it a bit too loud judging by his face. My eyes flicker down to his lips as he starts to talk. “Where are your parents miss? Shouldn’t you be home? It’s getting a bit late so you should head home about now especially if you're taking care of your little sister miss…” I stop him there by saying quietly that she’s my daughter. He looks surprised at first, then concerned. “Where’s her father miss? And where’s your parents? Shouldn’t they be taking care of her while you go to school?” “Her father died. My father is dead and my mother might as well be. No, because I need to take care of her I am her mother.” I answer and then turn to leave, finding Dr. Banner standing there, looking on proudly. I smile. “Dr. Banner gracias a dios! This man won't leave me alone!” i tell him. He smiles and turns to the blond man saying something to him which makes the man turn paler than he already is. He turns to me. “I’m so sorry i didn’t know that you knew Bruce!” He says. I giggle and nod saying that it’s fine. Rosie starts to cry. I sigh and look around for a bench when I find one I walk over to it and sit putting the baby bag down and getting the necessary things to change Rosie’s diaper. I get to work as Dr. Banner once again stands guard for people who mean us harm. I keep Rosie entertained as I change her so she doesn't cry. I sing to her afterward to put her back to sleep, not surprisingly it doesn’t work. She must be hungry again. I get the last pre-made bottle out and uncap it warming it up after checking to see that no one was looking. Once its warm enough I give it to her and sing at the same time to help her feel calmer and more sleepy. When Rosie is finished I burp her and start rocking her to help her stay asleep. I startle when someone taps my shoulder, deja vu much? I glare as my startling makes Rosie wake up. I glare at the redheaded woman. “You made me wake up Rosie!” I sign angrily with one hand. I start rocking her again, trying to put her back to sleep. She continues to cry so I start singing, hoping to calm her. It works. She goes back to sleep, I walk over to Dr. Banner and give him my little Rosie to hold. I march over to the redheaded woman and start to sign rapidly getting angry when she seems to not know what I’m doing. Someone lays their hand on my shoulder and I calm already knowing who it is. Dr. Banner breathes with me knowing that I need to calm down before I burn her with my mutation. I calm down and take my little Rosie from him, knowing that with her in my arms I won’t get too hot, because my mutation makes it possible to burn her seeing as she lived within me for 8 and ½ months so my mutation recognizes her as someone I care for. My mutation is sentient in that I can’t control it, it reacts to when I care and don’t care about someone. It’s an odd kind of sentience in that it knows when i care for someone and it won’t burn them intentionally or unintentionally. It won’t activate when someone I care for is in a two foot range of the part of my body i want to heat up. I don’t notice someone come up to me until they wave a hand in front of my face. I jump. He holds his hands up and then starts to sign. “I’m sorry about Nat she didn’t know you were deaf, and she doesn’t know any form of sign. Was that Spanish sign by the way?” “Yes and it’s fine i just don’t want her to cry in front of others, they call her a demon back where I’m from all because of her father, I hate that, I don’t want anyone to make fun of my baby girl because of her father or because of her looks or her cries.” I sign to him. He nods in understanding. “I get it, my first child was a bit of a crier when he was born. I was always so scared someone would take him from me and hurt him because of who I am, who i work for or something. Eventually you learn, you can’t protect them from everything, somethings you just have to let happen.” I look at him for a moment. “Would you still say that if you saw my Rosie’s Face?” I pull the blanket from her face and let the ‘spell’ fall showing her real face. I smile as I look at my little Rosie. Her skin is blue and etched with symbols of an unknown origin, her fingers are six in all, her yellow eyes open and dart to my face, she smiles up at me. Her ears perk up as I start to sing and rock her. Her tail flicks back and forth with my singing wrapping around my finger as she starts to fall asleep. I look up at him as realization dawns on his face. “Her father…...was it Nightcrawler, Kurt Wagner, of the X-Men?” I nod tears in my eyes.