𝙁𝘼𝙇𝙇𝙄𝙉𝙂 / ғʀᴇᴇ.*

“Oh fuck off.” He was quick to say with a narrowed glare. “Fuck. Off.”H e repeated, fighting not to scream at the other man’s touch. This wasn’t like it ever was with anybody else. It wasn’t sensational, wasn’t fun, it was a violation of the worst kind. Then Nick was moving and Marcos’ heart skipped a beat at the sight before him. Was that.... ? “what the--- what...” His heart sped up as he saw it, as the realization struck him. “Don’t you fucking touch me.” He said, wishing his voice sounded braver then he felt.  

He didn’t care where he got the idea from as long as he stayed far away from Marcos. “GET OFF ME!” He screamed, hating every bit of his touch. “If you touch me with that I will burn your eyes out, and your tongue---I WILL MAKE YOU PAY FOR IT.” Was he talking out of his ass? Maybe. He felt fear like he only had few times before. “Unlike you right? You hate yourself, I  get it. So why don’t you just end it? Save the world from dealing with you--you piece of shit.” 

He shivered at the feeling of his tongue upon him, it felt gross. Another violation. He thought of Lorna. she would never look at him the same way once she found out. Would anybody ever? Would he ever be more then a victim after this? If he survived, that is. 

He couldn’t look Marcos in the eyes anymore. He simply couldn’t but, he needed one more piece of information from the man. He let out a long exhale, forcing the anger down before he spoke. “Where’s my body?” He asked with his head down, eyes glued to the ground. Asking that question sent shivers down his spine but he needed to see it for himself. He needed to see that he was six feet underneath because there was a very small part of him that just hoped he wasn’t dead. That maybe Sentinel Services thought he was worth saving and there was no body to bury because he was still working for them.

There it was. The question he hadn’t even considered but held so much impact How did he--- “At the time we were trying to escape. Sentinel services had Lorna, she was pregnant--” Thy also had Reid too but he doubted Gus would give a damn. “I know by now I’m sorry practically mean’s nothing but...” His lips pressed together, shame clear on his face. 

tw: blood, gore, injury, & torture

Elara glanced down at the silver flask in her hand. “It is the only substance strong enough to numb my aching heart,” she said, as though she were weaving an elaborate and magical story, “The equivalent of a mortal’s tequila or vodka.” She grinned as leaned against the counter, letting her body drape over the wood, “Trust me… I have my own ways of affording things…” she mused before making eye contact with the bartender, flashing her amber eyes, “Won’t you please get this gentlemen another round…?” she asked, biting her lower lip before the bartender happily obliged. 

He would of laughed at that if he hadn’t been in such a somber mood. Mortals. So she was an alien. It probably wasn’t his first experience meeting one, but he couldn’t think of notable ones prior. He was sure he knew some, just that he wasn’t entirely sure they were aliens or mutants. Unlike the girl, they never confirmed. He blinked her eyes at her display of power. Interesting. “So, is that all you could do?” There was a slight teasing nature to his one. 

tw: rape, gore, injury, torture, blood, & slightly nsfw

“You enjoyed the flirting, Marcos. Stop acting like you didn’t.” His hand went up to caress the other’s strong face with his hand. The screams of pain were music to his ears; his thumb circling the other’s cheek as if to falsely reassure the other. Such a beautiful creature making such a horrid noise. He leaned in to kiss his victim with cold lips pressing against the other’s, trying to refresh their memory of the night. His hand found his way to the other’s crotch, feeling for the other’s dick since he had been saying the word quite a lot in the night. 

“I don’t know if you’d really want my hands off you if you knew what you’d be asking for.” The pliers were just the tip of the iceberg. It was the little pain of removing pieces of Marcos slowly then progressively working his way to potentially losing all feeling in a limb permanently. He had an array of torture devices hidden in the duffel bag that didn’t require him to place his hands on Marcos. 

“I can make the pain go away completely.” He dropped the pliers onto the ground. A loud clank echoing through the empty building as it hit the floor. Nick wrapped his hand around the bloody finger missing its nail and began to use his powers on the finger, making it cold enough to numb the pain. “But, make me too mad and I might just use your finger as an ice cube for my next drink.” It was tempting to just freeze the body part off completely so that he would no longer feel the pain from his finger- and well also not have the finger anymore. But he resisted. It was too early in the night to start having the other go unconscious again.

“Rapist?” Nicholas scoffed at the accusation. He eyed the other down, his eyebrow raised in confusion as the other spoke. “I have not done anything to you yet that you have not enjoyed.” His ice-cold fingers traced down Marcos’s chest, slowly making its way down to gently be placed on the other’s thigh. “I prefer the term, psychopath.” He embraced his true nature and the label society gave him. Maybe rape was an option before the real fun began. To strip away whatever manhood he thought he had and destroy Marcos in every single aspect. Emotionally and physically. He wanted to see the other beg to have his life ended. 

He smirked at the insult, grabbing the other’s face with his free hand and sending slow waves of coldness out through his skin. “I froze them to death, Marcos.” He watched as his crystals of ice began to form around the surface of his hand. “But you won’t be so lucky to get that right away.” He pulled his freezing hand away and smiled. 

He pulled away from Marcos with bitterness in his eyes and fished for a pair of rusty pliers out of a duffel bag. “I want you to suffer.” He said with anger mixed in his tone, clamping down the pliers on Marcos’s middle fingernail and yanking it away from the finger finger. 

He was prepared for hi to say that some light teasing wasn’t rape. That at the most it was molestation. He hadn’t prepared for the accusation that he enjoyed it. “What the fuck makes you think that?” He said, his voice alarmingly low. Ripe with fury at such a assessment. “You drugged me and--” When did the word kiss become so hard to say? “ -- the moment I can’t say yes it becomes assault. Dick.” He felt the feeling in his stomach. Like a sickness, a terribleness, all around the fact that he learned these facts thinking he would assure other people with them. Never imagined being the one assured, never imagined needing it. 

He felt shivers he couldn’t properly shake out once the fingers touched upon his chest. Another violation. Fuck, he felt sick. “Get your hands off me.” He said, his tone eerily low. “You sick piece of-” Then his face was hand-- and he wished it had been the one that had been on his thigh-- he wanted it off. “You killed animals for fun.” He held in a snort. Of course he did, every villain had the kind of resume in some way. 

He didn’t really say anything that would help Elara understand what he was going through, nor cloud her mind of her own frustrations, yet those two little words gave her enough to go on. “Yeah… I know what that’s like sometimes,” she sighed, dripping more from her flask into her shot glass, “Either that or not enough.” She downed the shot quickly as though it were water. “I’ve only just begun,” she contrasted, “and I’ve planned on having a very long night.”

That was a nice comfort. The small reminder he wasn’t the only one in the world to suffer from this kind of thing. He wasn’t the only one damaged. “Got anything good in there?” He asked, eyeing her flash. He didn’t recognize the smell that left it. He gave a small chuckle at that. “Lucky you. I.. can’t afford that.” He couldn’t afford not having a mind, nor could he afford the taxie home or the actual tab.

Nicholas carried his unconscious play thing to the basement of an abandoned building. His eyes skimming over the breathing body with malicious intent. Marcos aided countless mutant fugitives, hiding them from Sentinel Services and allowing them escape to another country outside of their jurisdiction. He was simply spreading chaos to another part of the world. It was unforgivable. With the endless chatter of New York, no one was going to notice the screams escaping from the building that was covered in ‘Caution Do Not Enter’ tape.

He plopped Marcos down onto a metal chair, stripping him of his shirt and eyeing the bare chested man in his beautiful built body. He began chaining him down, being sure to bind his hands palm down onto the chairs arm rest just in case he somehow managed to use his powers and try to burn through the chair, it would take a lot longer if possible at all. 

Nick could start having fun he wanted to while the mutant was unconscious. He could even freeze a finger off the body before he even awoke but, it was a bit more fun to wait til his victim awoke. 

As Marcos began yelling, Nick emerged out of the darkness from behind and locked a mutant inhibitor collar around Marcos’s neck. “Now you look the role of a fucking animal with that collar.” He whispered in the other’s ear before walking around the chair to face him. “And that’s what you are, you sexy beast. A fucking animal who disobeyed those above him and needs to be put down.” He said, moving closer to the other so that their faces were only mere inches apart. “As a kid, I had a reputation of killing animals. Would you like to guess how they died?” He asked, using his powers to lower the temperature of the room to as cold as a harsh winter night. 

If Marcos didn’t kill him he knew a great number of people who would on his behalf. The anger he felt was overwhelming, as was the violation. He couldn’t even raise his hand, not even to flip the asshole the bird, as childish as that particular action was. He was bound in every sent of the word, trapped and in mortal danger. He was used to mortal danger. But this time was different, and he knew it. 

He heard his voice, and before he could even respond he felt the collar around his neck snapping into place. HE FELT SICK. He wondered if this was how Lorna felt, when she was trapped back then. Collared. Like an animal. This dick. His heart skipped a beat in fear when he got close, when he whispered in his ear. The man’s earlier threats still looming in his mind. “An animal.” He repeated,hiding his terror with false bravado. “So what does that make you?” He remembered faintly, cold lips. Lips touching his. “A mutant and a rapist.” Maybe he knew too little to call him that. He didn’t care. His anger was overwhelming. He wanted to make the other hurt, even if it was simply with a nasty word. 

Then, he was close again and unwittingly Marcos’ heart sped up in fear of what he would do next. “They took one look at you and dropped dead.” THAT was childish. Lorna, John and Gus were better at insults. Even Sonya had been. Then he felt the chill of it, the cold of the man’s powers. “What the fuck do you want?” He asked, his voice almost gravely. 

Kurt stood there awkwardly and idle for a moment. He debated excusing himself for a moment but he knew there was something to do still. Something, anything. “I was but I did not experience the same things as you and others did. I do not know why.” And truthfully he did not wish to know why. “I’ve spent quite a few years hidden. It’s hard to see me sometimes.”

His lips pressed together at that. “that’s... you should be grateful. I mean--” Did that sound rude like? you should be grateful. “You’re lucky, is what I mean.” It was curious though. “You have no idea, at all...” He believed him, though the curiosity he felt had no intention of dying. His arms crossed. “I’m sorry.” He found himself saying. “You shouldn’t have to hide who you are. the world... the world is made of idiots.”

“Fuck?” Nicholas turned his head to look at the other, their faces only inches apart. “We might. Maybe just to piss off the baby mama.” He whispered to the other. His eyes scanned the other from head to toe, licking his lips in satisfaction with the his body. He knew that wasn’t what his victim meant but, it was too fun to pass on the opportunity to scare the man with the idea of rape. 

“But I also have other plans for you.” He turned in the direction of the exit, dragging tonight’s victim with him to his car. He opened the passenger door with his free hand, practically throwing Marcos into the seat then securing his seat belt. He hopped into the driver’s seat and looked at Marcos with lustful eyes. He leaned in to the other and grabbed the other’s face, forcing the other to part their lips as Nick went in for a kiss. His lips were ice cold; his appearance shifting into his full-body icy form. “The fun is just about to start.” He said as he started the car and began driving.

Too close. No one had been so close to him since--- “Do... don...t.” Don’t. Don’t you fucking touch me. Then--- LORNA. “I’ll kill you.” Somehow, he made out those words. If he went near Lorna, Marcos would kill him. Without hesitation. He might even kill him just for all this. Nothing had been done yet, that was the only thing that kept it a might. Though, it wasn’t long before the implication truly set in shaking him to his core. Rape. The idea was horrifying, and the last directions he would of ever thought this night would go in. 

He wished the word also wasn’t there. Also, as if it could still could occur. As long as that option was on the table---... Marcos didn’t think he’d be able to calm down. He felt into the seat, wishing desperately he could move. That he could fight. He couldn’t. Even if he tried his damnest, he couldn’t move a bit. His head lay where it fell, his eyes glaring at whatever was in front of him. Anger buzzing in his chest, through his veins. Except then his face was grabbed and lips were on his. It wasn’t his first kiss after Lorna, no. It was chilling all the same, it more ways then one. Was he a mutant? The fact he couldn’t tel him to stop, that he couldn’t fight back, that he was at his utter mercy. Mercy. What a joke, It was then his blurry version began to overwhelm him. He couldn’t hold on anymore. Then, the world was black. 

He awoke to a unfamiliar surrounding. Probably a basement of some sort, if he had to guess. He still felt weak. The feeling wasn’t helped by the ropes (chains??) around him. He couldn’t even look down to see what they were, and he was too tired to think straight about what they felt like on his bare skin. Bare skin. Another fuck my life moment. He summed up his voice, glad to be able to speak. “ARE YOU HERE? Nick or whatever the fuck your name is.” Rage was clear in his tone. FUCK he couldn’t even use his powers, still. DAMN. 

“Protect me?” Gus scoffed as Marcos simply added more fuel to the raging fire. “I came out of nowhere. I’ll disappear back into my time out of nowhere.” The thought of going back to his time scared him more so than it dead moments ago. Knowing that he was trapped in one direction, with his fate sealed as a hound, there was no point in fighting it. “Marcos, you guys couldn’t even protect the Atlanta Headquarters.” 

Out of anger and frustration, Gus grabbed Marcos’s shirt by the collar and pulled him in closer. “It doesn’t matter if it feels right because you wanna know what I saw that night of Halloween?” He tightened his grip on the other’s shirt. “I saw you and the rest of the underground get shot down by Sentinel Services while I helped shut you all down.” He yelled, his eyes beginning to tear up as he heard himself say it out loud. “I was turned into a fucking weapon and it fucking sucks knowing that I end up my biggest fear.” He let go of Marcos’s shirt and took a step back. He needed to breathe.

“We don’t know that.” They didn’t know anything and it made him ill. Except, then Gus spoke something horribly and terribly true. It chilled him to his bone, knowing Gus was right without a doubt. He stilled, the expression on his face telling the simple truth he had no place to argue. Except, then Gus grabbed him and Marcos couldn’t find the will to fight back. “Gus...” He couldn’t blame him. Gus was right. “I’m sorry.” He said, his tone in a whisper. “i’m so sorry.”

Elara awakened from horrible visions of Jack. Him, being inches from death while she could only stand and watch, helpless without any of her Thelloran strength to break him free… and then he turned the knife on her instead. The worst part about waking up was that, in her mind, if Jack wanted to do something like that, then he was justified in doing so. Apparently, going to bars is what mortals on this planet do, yet she couldn’t get completely drunk off their soft liquor. Thankfully, she carried her own Thelloran liquor in a flask as she added a drop to each drink she pounded down her throat to avoid the sounds of the rather rude bartender. But the voice of something unfamiliar actually caught her attention. She slowly turned her head towards him and frowned. “About what?” Elara asked, desperately craving another’s burdens to bear instead of her own.

He blinked his eyes. That was a good question. It was sad that he had a poor answer. There was little he could explain correctly, even if his brain wasn’t totally inhibited at the moment. “too much.” He spoke, knowing being cryptic was a dick move in itself but not caring much. It was too hard to explain. “I think... I need to be cut off.” He said gesturing to the drinks before him and the fog building in his mind, 

And there it was. He watched as the underground leader fell victim to the effects of the drug, moving in closer to help the other in case he fell face first onto the floor. It would be quite amusing to see him end up on the floor but, he had to play the role of the designated drive for Marcos. “Heyhey. It’s okay. I got you, Marcos.” He said with a small smile on his lips, getting off the stool and draping the drugged mutant’s shoulder over his neck to support him. “You’ve had way too much to drink.” He stated. It was a shame he associated himself with the mutant underground. Nick genuinely thought he would be a good toy to fuck with.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take you where you need to go.” He said with a devilish smile written on his face. Nick reached into the other’s pocket with his freehand, sliding it into his own back pocket to keep it out of reach. He wasn’t going to allow Marcos contact anyone. At least not until Nick was through with him and he survived the sinister thoughts that swam in his bloodthirsty mind. 

There were very little times Marcos ever got this wasted. He had been so sure he hadn’t drunken enough for this, that he had been smart. It appears he was wrong or lost count. Or--- he remembered, times with Carmen when she got him to try something her family dealt. He had never been to into it. Drugs made you too weak after all, too vulnerable. But he wasn’t--this wasn’t... Except then Nick was smiling and supporting him. And that smile made him sick. What the fuck was this? He wanted to use his powers, burn the bar down if he had to to get out of there. But they didn’t seem to be working, he couldn’t focus, he couldn’t even stand. Not even a complete sentence he could make. “Yu...” He wondered if his voice sounded as angry as he felt. He doubted it, he probably sounded drowsy. He felt drowsy. 

The feeling of the guy--the asshole, rutting around in his pocket made Marcos wanna burn him. “Fu... fuck... “ He cursed, he tried to curse. He wanted to call him a fucker. He wanted to say if Nick put a hand on him he would make him pay for it. He couldn’t even get the words out.He was tripping over his own feet-- he could barely keep his eyes open...

Nick matched the other’s smile, his hand coming up to caress his face. “That’s what I was hoping for under all that brooding.” Flirting with the target always made it more interesting when they finally came to and realized that he’s a monster not what they were expecting. They might have been suspecting a night of pleasure for the both of them but, this psychopath was the only one enjoying himself. “For a second I thought you were incapable of smiling.” He watched intently as the other took a sip of the beer, his eyes glancing over the other’s lips. 

Now, it was a simple waiting game for the mutant as the drugs infiltrated the other’s system. He took a long drag from his own glass of beer, his lips drinking underneath the foamy surface. “I wasn’t too sure what your poison is. I hope you’re okay with the Guinness.” He added with a fake grin, not genuinely caring about the other’s opinion. 

He had to restrain himself from flinching away or shining away from the touch. It was wrong to lead the guy on, he had no plans of sleeping with him. But he.. the flirting felt nice. The smiles, even if they were fake. they were better then nothing. Those words though, Lorna said much of the same thing Once upon a time, long ago. That made a genuine smile touch him, at the memories of that. He felt a pang of guilt, for flirting with Nick and thinking of Lorna. But it was nothing more then flirting, he reminded himself. 

“Yeah.” He was quick to nod. “I don’t have it often but...” Was it always this strong? He felt drowsy in a way he only allowed in this safety of the underground. He never had enough drinks to feel this drowsy, he was smarter then that. At least, he thought he had been. He blinked his eyes, trying to keep focus. “I..” His lips felt so dry all of the sudden, and his tongue felt heavy. Everything felt heavy. “I... need... needa call.” He fumbled getting the words out. He lent against the bar, pushing himself up from his seat so he could reach his phone. He hated it, but he had to call someone. This wasn’t good. However, as soon as his legs hit the ground they morphed to jelly. It felt like that, at least. He grabbed for hold of the counter, trying to steady himself. 

Gus’s heart stopped beating, or at least it felt like it stopped beating as he tried to wrap his head around his death. He was dead in this time. Death in the arms of his best friend. And not only was he dead, but it was apparent that Trask Industries successfully brainwashed him into working with them. He thought he would be strong enough to not fall for their methods. To reject the process of becoming a hound. But he wasn’t. It broke him on the spot knowing he was too weak. His nightmare had already become a reality without him even knowing. 

“FUCK, MARCOS.” He shouted with clenched fists, punching into the dry wall and leaving a hole as he retracted his hand. “I deserved to know I died. To know that this symbol tattooed onto my wrist is how I ended up dying.” He was infuriated, feeling betrayed by one of his closest companions. “Once this time travel bullshit rolls over and I’m back in my right place in time, I’m just going to end up like those fucking vegetables, doing whatever it takes to get high.” It sucked knowing that being a hound was inevitable for him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He should of kept his fucking mouth SHUT. He didn’t say it right--was there a way to say it right? It should of been John to tell him this, John was better at this stuff. Always had been. John or Sonya. Sonya who was dead. Another thing he had explained all wrong. “I planned to tell you.” He said, and he knew it was wrong. Planning to tell him doesn't change the fact that he hadn’t, he hadn’t done anything. Gus deserved to know. He should of known to begin with.

His eyes shut, trying to think of the right thing to say but coming up blank. “You don’t know that.” He was quick to say, to jump to. “We don’t know that you’re going back and even if they try--WE’LL PROTECT YOU.” He would die to protect him if he had to. (Did he think that too fast?) “It... I knew I had to. But it never felt right. Still doesn’t. I’m sorry, Gus.” 

“I doubt it.” Clarice argued,not really believing the man. Then again, who was she to judge? “I’m pretty sure shows follow second grade logic. Don’t you think?” She smiled a little, only for that smile to fade as he spoke. “Did he do anything? You know, before- everything disappeared.” She asked softly, not one to judge. Clarice cleared her throat, unsure how to put her own nightmares into words. “I saw my foster carers being killed. Along with the kids they were looking after.” She eventually explained. It was a lie; it was one of the many nightmares that plagued her, but not one she experienced.

He gave a bit of a laugh at that. “Point made and taken.” Or should it of been taken and then made? “No, nothing. He was just there... and it was confirmed he was my worst fear. which is... I don’t even know how to explain how that felt. Feels.” His worst fear was his racist biggot dad. some tough leader he was. He clenched his fist at that. He shouldn’t of demanded an answer, playfully or not--he shouldn’t of... “I’m sorry.” He offered, knowing it meant nothing. It wouldn’t help her, not at all. 

“Don’t mention it.” He said with a small, fake smile on his face. Oh, Nicholas could only imagine how stressful running the illegal operations must be, especially with how they were supposedly dead. That idea obviously burned to the ground at the sight of the man brooding beside him. Tonight, he wasn’t working for Sentinel Services. This was for amusement and personal vengeance for harboring dangerous mutants that could hurt citizens, if they haven’t already. 

He caught a glimpse of the bartender, almost done filling up their beer glasses with Guinness. It was time to keep the other talking and distracted. He needed to keep Marcos’s eyes off the glass while he slipped something in, which shouldn’t be hard considering the other was already intoxicated. “I haven’t seen you around here before. I’m sure I would remember a face like yours.” He said flirtatiously as the bartender came with their drinks, his hand sneakily slipping in the roofies into Marcos’s drink. “I’m Nick.” He introduced himself as he handed the other the spiked drink.

He wasn’t usually good with stranger’s acts of kindness. they were suspicious and he was paranoid, for good reason. But he was tired. Everything going on around them had worn him out, worn him dry. He just wanted to drink. For that horrible pain he felt to be numbed, even if only for a brief time. He needed it gone. He couldn’t go on with it weighing him down every moment, it was impossible. 

He was looking at his glass, a bit too intensely when the other spoke up again. Despite himself, despite all going on, he did enjoy the flirting. At least, a small part of him did. He was used to shutting the flirting down, saying he had someone he loved with all his heart. And he still loved her with all his heart, always and forever, but he and Lorna weren't together now. He didn’t know what they were but they weren’t... they weren't who they used to be. 

The last time a guy had flirted with him (or he had been with one) was long ago before he had even met Lorna and the love he had for her engulfed him. He couldn’t imagine being with anyone right now, male or female. But... the flirting did feel nice, even if only a little bit. So, he turned toward the guy, and for the first time in a long time, he gave a smile to a stranger. “Marcos.” He introduced, taking the drink in hand and instantly taking a sip.