April's eyes are pretty. Raph's not sure how come he never noticed this before, but they are, they're so pretty they take his breath away. They're brighter than the stars, brighter than the Christmas lights they haven't taken down yet, brighter than her amused smile. He can't look away.
She runs a gentle hand down his shell and his breath hitches into his touch. Raph leans forward, drinking her in, hoping he won't fall off the couch and make an idiot of himself.
"Raph," she says, oh so gently. "Why don't you fuck yourself a little harder with that dildo, hmm?"
And her eyes are white, white, white.
He blinks, looking down at himself. There's...there's a thing in him. His legs are spread and the two of them are alone in the Pit together and there's a toy pushed up his ass, where he's never had so much as a finger.
"I--" He glances around wildly, heart pounding. His family, if they see, he doesn't even want to think about Casey and Donnie and what the hell--
"Relax," April chides. "I sent them all to play. I'll know when they are even thinking of coming back." She's smiling, but there's something about her smile that's wrong. "Now, how do you like your toy?"
Raph squirms, wincing at how that makes pleasure-pain flare up in his guts. "It hurts," he says honestly, cheeks flaring. He hates acknowledging weakness.
"Mmm," April says, wagging her fingers. The toy shoves a little farther inside him, and Raph cries out.
"It is rather big," she muses. "Maybe push it in a little deeper? That might help."
He really, really doubts it, but he's already doing as he's told, unable to look away from her even as fresh tears of pain spark in his eyes. She brushes them away, cooing softly, and he relaxes against his will when she kisses him on the cheek.
"So beautiful when you're needy," April says. "God, I can't believe that poor girl never let herself play." There's something deeply wrong with that statement but Raph can't focus enough to make sense of it.
"I mean, Donatello was the most obvious but really it was all of you, wasn't it?" She gives the toy a vicious twist, wrenching a groan out of Raph's trembling mouth. "So desperate to be loved, to be told you weren't a dirty little freak by someone who wasn't a dirty little freak themselves."
He's crying, and he's not sure if it's from the pain or the truth of her words. B-but they're not true, are they? They are people who love him, people who don't think he's a freak, like, like...
"....Casey..." he breathes. "Mona."
He stiffens, suddenly feeling like he's spilled something he shouldn't have. Their names are precious, they shouldn't-but April already knows-but it's not April--
But she's smiling, and he instinctively sags in relief. "You miss them?" she asks, settling back onto the couch. She cocks her head, and then there are hands on him, even though she's not touching him, and some of those hands are scaly, and some are callused with old burns from playing with explosives.
"Steady, Raphael," Mona breathes in his ear.
"That's it, dude," and that's Casey breathing on his face, but he can't see Casey, just April's burning gaze. The dildo is--it's moving again, but it doesn't feel like a dildo, it feels like a cock splitting him open, stabbing at his core, and Mona's laughing and pushing him onto it.
And it feels good as much as it hurts, but pleasure is another kind of suffering. He's hard, but in a way that makes him sick and scared.
"No," he rasps, because he doesn't understand much right now, but he is fully aware that this isn't how this (whatever 'this' is) should happen. He's choking on the wrongness of it, but he can't move, can't fight. "N-n-no..."
"Oh, stop whining. It's fine," April says, sounding bored. "This is just a test. Now that I know that even a whiny little brute like you is no matter for my power, I can proceed with my plans accordingly." She smiles at him, and her eyes, her beautiful eyes, are swallowing him whole. "So really, it's all for the greater good."
Mona's claws trace fire down his side. Casey's got a finger inside of him, painfully dragging Raph open. He doesn't think he's bleeding, but how is that possible? How can something be so terrible and not bleed?
"Perhaps I think I'll keep you around after the end," April says, half to herself. "You're more fun to play with than I expected." Raph wants to reply, even if he's not sure what he could say to stop all this, but it doesn't matter because all that comes out is a strangled rasp.
"Just relax." She plucks a tear from his cheek, sending whirling through the air. "It'll be over soon, and neither of you will remember. You won't even be sore."
He wants to protest that he'll remember, deep in his bones, in his scarred and battered heart if nowhere else. But the last of his will crumbles under the weight of her white fire gaze, melting into the twisted heart of a body dragged toward desperate orgasm.
So instead he sits, and simply waits for her to look away.