#'do you think torture is ok if it's someone you don't like?' and 'do you consider people who do bad things as human?' in the first place

[gloriousmonsters]

read camp dama.scus. enjoyed some stuff, really wish i didn't have the experience so often reading a book that's Good and Progressive and about Queer Affirmation etc of feeling like i'm side-eying the author like 'and you know that delineating the people that oppose you as pure evil that therefore deserves torture or death or being eliminated from society entirely is bad, right? you know that, right??'

[bi-writes]

ok simon and his mail order bride live rent-free in my head now and, like, what i wanna know is what their anniversaries look like? not just their one year anniversary, but also their fifth or tenth? how does it change as they settle into that deep comfortability that comes with being with someone a long time? -391780

this piece i still consider canon mail-order bride, but i see it almost as an extra than a continuation of the current story since it is very much in the future of that timeline. <3

mail-order bride

it's difficult to see the potential of something so mangled. sometimes things are so worn out and so used that they don't reflect what their purpose was. instead of function, they see flaw. instead of value, they see waste.

sometimes you wonder if that's what they saw in you. sometimes you wonder if that's why you were given to him.

that's what they made him. simon was a tortured dog they let loose. they saw value, but only what was left, and perhaps they thought something like you might help them squeeze just that little bit more out of him. one more year. one more op.

the sunlight wakes you up. you forgot to pull the blinds, but when you see simon sleeping peacefully next to you, it's worth it to be up so early. you know as soon as you move, he will wake, so you keep still for just a few more minutes.

today marks ten. he doesn't look much older. he seems to have stopped aging ever since you asked him to put in his papers.

like always, as soon as you sit up, simon blinks awake. he's bleary, but conscious, and when your eyes meet, you smile at him. he lifts his big hand and rubs your back gently. you don't speak any words so early in the morning, but you don't have to. there isn't much to say when the love of your life loves you, and you love them back.

you push the blankets off, giggling when you reveal the black and orange balls of fur that blink up at you. they almost seem irritated that you interrupted their sleep, snuggled in the heat that simon radiated. they'll just have to deal with it.

you drag your hand down simon's leg wordlessly. you hear his deep breaths from behind, and you reach into your bedside table to press a little balm into your hand before spreading the ointment across his knee and under it. you work it into the muscles nice and slow; any faster, and simon will hitch his breath in pain, and you'll have to start over.

you kiss his knee before laying back down, settling into his side, and you lift up your left hand, wiggling your fingers knowingly at him before looking up towards his face. he smiles down at you sleepily, raising his hand to cup your fingers.

"still love me?" you ask softly, and simon pretends to think about.

"mmm..." he rumbles. "still love ya."

"but do you still like me?"

"more everyday."

the first few years were spent trying to play catch-up. fancy dinners, expensive gifts, handwritten letters that could've been novels to try and stuff the love you have for each other all in one night. they were all wonderful; you think about those nights all the time, and you cherish the gifts he's given you like they are a part of you, but today feels different.

today might not be just another day, but it's just as special as yesterday. and the day before that. and the day before that.

when it's time to really wake up, you let simon guide you. he walks easy, barely a limp, and he sits you down at your vanity to help you do your hair as you add your serums and moisturizers. he's good with that brush, running it through gently, parting your hair the way you like so he can tie it up. he'd braid your hair if you asked him to (he said it wasn't unlike all the knots he knows how to tie--and he meant it, no one dutch braids like him), but you know your show came out last night, and you want to watch them with the scones you have proofing in the fridge.

he makes the coffee and tea while you set the scones in the oven. you fill the cat's bowls while he cleans out the water fountain. it's wordless, the morning routine, but you like the times when you brush by him. when your arm runs against his. when your hands bump going for the same cabinet. when he leans down as he passes you, kissing along your jaw before he keeps walking.

bliss. fucking bliss.

he's waiting for you in the living room once you pull the scones out of the oven. your coffee sits on the table on its coaster, in your favorite mug, and he's under your blanket as he flips through the tv. he already knows what you'll want to watch, and you bite back your smile when you notice him typing it into the search bar because he didn't see it when he scrolled past (you keep telling him to wear his glasses, but he'll never listen).

you take a seat next to him, thumbing at his cheek, and he takes a scone off the plate before biting into it. he smiles when he tastes chocolate, looking at you knowingly, and you reach for his hand as you settle against his chest.

you used to be mangled, too. a mess. pretty on the outside, dying on the inside. all fried wires, a traumatized animal, learned behavior of relieve and appease that kept you out of trouble and out of sight.

you have never seen simon this way. and simon has never seen you this way. no hopeless potential. no wasted space. no diminishing value.

i matter because you matter. you matter because i matter.

hidden, not broken. disguised, not incomplete. you did not have jagged edges, only armor that you tried to put up to protect yourself.

you tip your head back to look up at him, and when he cups your jaw to stare back at you, you're relieved by what you see in his eyes.

ten years. it will be nothing like forever. it will be nothing like your next life, nor like the life after that. it's comforting to know what home looks like. maybe you will recognize it the way you recognized it in this life.

no, that can't be it.

you recognized it because it had already happened. in some other time, in some other place, you were sitting where you sit now, looking at simon the way you look at him now.

you knew who he was before you even met him, and you will know who he is when you meet him again.

[talaok]

Like a Virgin

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

summary: It's been a really long time since Joel has felt the feel of anything else besides his own fist, and once you remind him how good the real thing is... let's just say it's hard for him to live up to his full potential.

warnings: smut| unprotected p in v sex, premature ejaculation, very touch-starved Joel, and allusion to oral sex (f receiving)

a/n: I don't know what to say lmao this is a thing for me ok, don't judge (and also you can't tell me this isn't accurate, like this man hasn't gotten laid since the moon landing probably, and you expect him to last? no way babe). Also I'm sorry about the title it's funny to me lol

Now this wasn't like him.

He hadn't done this in a long time.

The last time he had sex with a woman he'd just met (or any woman to be completely honest) he was 25 years younger and the world hadn't gone to shit yet... so yeah, a long time indeed.

But you were so fucking beautiful, such a pretty face with such pretty eyes, and god but that mouth of yours-

And plus you were new to Jackson, you didn't know yet about all the scary stories folks liked to tell about him, and you were kind and funny, and... did he mention hot already?

Just one night of letting loose, that's what he'd told himself, and then he was gonna go back to his old closed-off self, but for now... for now, he was too busy throwing you on his bed to think about anything else.

You were getting rid of your clothes and he followed your lead more than willingly, almost ripping the buttons off his flannel in the rush.

He bent down to kiss your neck as his hands hurried to your tits.

God, he'd forgotten how good it felt to touch a woman.

And when you let out a little whimper, he swore he had ascended to another universe.

"Joel please"

Fuck him, but he wasn't inside of you yet, and he was already feeling far too close to coming.

Guess fucking his own fist for two decades really does something to a man.

"need something?"

He was acting wayy too smug for someone who was feeling like a virgin all over again.

"Please- I need you inside me, Joel"

fucking damnit- he shouldn't have asked that, his dick was now really suffering the consequences.

He didn't risk saying anything else as he got rid of his boxers, but of course, you just had to come out and say:

"oh wow, you're big" with the sexiest fucking voice he'd ever heard.

"want me to stop?"

For some reason, those words elicited a criminally hot smirk on your lips  

"Definitely not"

You were looking at him like a starving woman and he had to look down to where he was moving his tip to your entrance to get away from you and your dangerous, dangerous gaze

He pushed into you slowly and god fucking damnit but the sounds that you made... those sweet little moans and whines you let out as your warm pussy stretched around him and hugged him better than anything he'd felt in years... he had no words for it- no coherent sounds could make it out of his mouth except for a few groans coming deep from his chest.

"Good christ"

that's the only thing he managed to murmur as he bottomed out and had to take a break to try not to bust his load right there.

"fuck you feel so good" you moaned, as your hands gripped his sheets "please move" you begged, your voice breathy and pleading, and godfuck he should have really thought about it before doing this.

"Joel please-"

"I just need a moment darlin'" he explained, closing his eyes to try and remember how he used to manage to last and coming up completely empty.

He could feel your expectant eyes on him so even if he sure as hell didn't feel ready, he did as you asked and started to move.

The regret reached him extraordinarily fast as he felt your walls tightening around him and as you cried out for him like an angel sent straight from heaven.

"fuck-" you moaned, looking up at him with doe eyes that made him wonder if you really just knew what you were doing, if you actually enjoyed torturing him like this

"god you're so deep"

Yeah, you definitely knew

"and so big-" you cried

He gripped your waist to try and ground himself as he thrusted into your fucking perfect cunt.

"oh my god-yes!" you moaned, your back arching from the bed as his thrust got harsher in the hopes that that would make you talk less.

"just like that Joel- oh-" 

And Joel was tough in a lot of ways and he wasn't one to give up easily, but shit you were making it hard for him.

"Please don't stop- fuckfuckfuck" you begged, shutting your eyes close at the feeling.

And that was it, he couldn't do it anymore

"please stop talking" he breathed, his eyes resuming their tour of your eyes, mouth, and bouncing tits.

"why?" 

"nothing it's just-"

And before he could answer you had grabbed his shoulder and forced him to bend down to meet your mouth with his.

Goddamnit.

"you just feel too good Joel" 

"fuck." he groaned, not able to stop his hips from moving no matter how much he wanted to "shit"

"what is it?"

"Jesus Christ I-"

"is there something wrong?"

"n-no just- fuck I'm sorry sweetheart"

And that's all he could say as he abruptly pulled out of you, his spend covering your stomach not even a second after as he growled so loud his neighbors probably thought he was getting killed.

"shit" again, he sighed, his forehead falling to your shoulder.

"oh" you couldn't help but smile as everything came together

"I'm sorry darlin'" he breathed, leaning away and standing up as shame filled every inch of him.

"It's just- It's been a long time since I've done... this"

You sat up, your legs still dangling off the bed, as you admired his handy work on your belly.

"And you... you're just real fucking pretty" he huffed a half-laugh "I'm sorry"

You looked up at him then, meeting his mortified expression.

"No hey" you smiled, placing a hand on his torso "It's fine, I understand"

"god this is embarrassing, I feel like a sixteen-year-old all over again" he shook his head

"stop" you cooed, gently caressing his skin, as a mischievous spark lighted in your irides "It's fine, really" you promised, "and besides..." you bit your bottom lip as you slowly spread your legs "you could still make it up to me, y'know?"

He groaned again, falling to his knees between your thighs

"that I can do"

[after-the-end-times]

Eddie's Never Been Chill a Day in his Life

For @steddieholidaydrabbles Prompt: Chill 🥶 Rating: G 🥶Words: 793 🥶 cw: none 🥶 Tags: Established Relationship, Corroded Coffin doesn't understand, Eddie has no chill, Eddie Munson loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington loves Eddie Munson

“Oh, will you chill? It's not a big deal”

“Chill? Chill?! Ha!”

Eddie strikes a dramatic pose, one hand on his hip, finger on his lips and, despite the smile spreading across his face, his eyes are wide and angry staring down his friends.

“No, I don't think I will chill! Because I tell you, my best friends, my band, my comrades in arms, that I, Eddie Munson, have finally got myself a boyfriend and you, what? Say I can do better? Tell me you don't like him?!”

Eddie throws his head back laughing.

Gareth looks at Jeff who looks at Freak. They sometimes forget how scary Eddie can be when he turns his dramatics up to 10.

Which means it’s even more creepy in the quiet after Eddie’s laughter cuts off. A car door slams on the other side of the garage door. Jeff’s mom probably getting home from work.

“Dude, we just mean he isn't really- You know.”

“What? He isn't the best thing to happen to me? He isn't the kindest, sweetest, most self sacrificing man that I’ve ever met? Because guess what guys! He is. He's all that and more. He's funny and sarcastic and goofy and so so smart!”

“Eddie, he's a jock! You've always said-”

“And I was wrong! Ok!?” He blows out a harsh breath, continuing calmer “I was wrong and I judged without knowing. So what if he likes sports? He has hobbies and interests. Isn't that a good thing? Or would you rather I be with someone boring? Someone who thinks and acts just like me? So we can just sit there and stare at each other, because we have all the same opinions about everything? 'Cause, actually, I think I like it better this way.”

“Ok, ok we get it. You like him." Gareth huffs out a laugh.

Jeff adds with a chuckle. "Guess even you couldn't resist a pretty face, huh?”

Eddie scoffs. They just don't get it.

“Of course he's breathtaking. But he's all the more beautiful because of who he is inside. Don’t you get it yet? He has a gaggle of children who he loves and would do anything for. He has a best friend who he would literally get tortured for to spare her any hurt. He's even friends with his ex and the guy she cheated on him with! He's just so kind and forgiving, and yes it’s sometimes more than I'd want him to be, but that's- He's just so- I just- I love him.” He looks at them with wide pleading eyes. “Ok, guys? I love him and he's gonna be mine for as long as I can keep him. So, you guys just need to get with it, I guess.”

Eddie runs out of steam after that and crosses his arms protectively across his chest. He's still building his strength back up and he's been gesturing wildly for his whole rant.

The door on the side of the garage opens and Steve steps inside, shivering. The tip of his nose and ears are nipped pink from the cold, his hands are red and slightly trembling; he’s clearly been out there longer than it takes to run from the car to the garage.

“Steve.” Eddie breaths out and walks over to take his hands in his. He cups them and brings them up to his mouth, warming the frozen finger tips with his breath.

Steve’s gaze, so wide and hope filled, has been locked on Eddie since he came in.

“Do you really?” He finally asks, in a low voice just for them.

Eddie flicks his eyes up to meet Steve’s. For a fraction of a second he considers asking what he’s talking about, maybe playing off the moment with a joke, but no. Steve deserves to know. And he wants Steve to know.

“Steve,” He kisses the finger tips at his lips, still so cold, but finally warming. “I love you.”

“Eddie.” Steve’s shaking, though whether it’s still from the cold or from the force of his emotions, Eddie’s not sure. Either way, he suddenly has an armful of a Steve Harrington who is laughing so joyously, like it’s the only way he can release the amount of happiness that has suddenly over taken him. He gasps in a breath. “I love you, too, Eddie. Oh my god, I love you so much.”

Eddie pulls back grinning, he needs to see him right now, needs to see the joy he’s put on Steve’s face just by loving him.

Oh, Steve is glowing.

And in that moment, Eddie knows, without a singular doubt, he’s going to spend the rest of his life making Steve glow with happiness.

And they’re going to have a beautiful life.

~Fin~

[hypnagogics]

haiii pludawg… 😇

i’m thinking about sloppy and wet ab riding with sub!sevika, pinning her to the bed with your thighs and riding her into the mattress, she’d get so flustered as you overpower her and she’d just gawk at you like the cutie pie she is while you leave a sticky trail all over her abs… continue this however u want 🤎

thanks a million!!! 😋

☆: hey chat, have something new hehe. sev has been turning me into a MONSTER lately and i had to get this outta my system. ok enna this idea. i have no words. this is the most scrumdiddlyumptious thing ive literally ever heard im gonna start freaking the fart out are u fr...omg. wow...i love u sm for this💚AHHHH I NEED HER.

you gazed down at sevika from your spot, lovingly straddling her torso, intently watching every microscopic change in her features. she helplessly stared up at you, eyes as gray as the goddess athena's, round and teary, near overflowing with pure, unadulterated need.

you wanted her just as much, if not more, only you were better at acting, so you didn't let her sense it and take the chance to rip this moment away from you. you knew her, and she'd give her all to try.

your hot, naked bodies pressed together, it had been eons of simple messing around— neither had their sweet release just yet.

you were planning on making this exhilarating for you, while being torturous for the woman underneath you.

her eyes flickered up and down your bare form, eying every curve and valley hungrily, she took in every little detail before bringing her eyes back up to meet yours. “you plan on doing anything? sometime tonight, preferably.” she huffed in exasperation, her low voice gravelly, yet there's the unmistakable trembling only someone who'd give anything to cum possesses. “oh? i'm fine doing this all night, actually. don't rush me.” stern, but sweet, the sound of your voice makes her break eye contact bashfully. you aren't able to stop the smirk that stretches across your lips, and you tighten your grip on her arms—both flesh and mechanical—on either side of her head. sevika's dark hair is disheveled, sprawled across the pale pillow, her toffee skin gleaming with sweat, she looked ethereal. every move you make is slow, calculated, enticing. designed to drive her insane, make her whine and clench around nothing but air—and she does exactly that when she feels your dripping folds make contact with her quivering abs. she squirms below you, taking her bottom lip between her teeth, and closing her eyes as tight as she can, inhaling sharply.

you hadn't even started moving yet, but the wetness, the slick sound, the warmth of you on her skin was driving her over the edge. if so much as a gust of wind kissed her pussy, she'd be crying out and gushing all over the place. unfortunately you were indoors, so she'd have to suffer a little longer.

on your end, the contact is so good. you rock your hips back and forth on her just once, experimentally, but right away the pleasure pools in your abdomen, and you start rutting against her, chasing the mind-numbing feeling.

and sevika? she can't do anything but just gawk at you, observe how you throw your head back in ecstasy, your pretty moans filling the room, along with the obscene slapping sounds of skin against skin. you transition to a circular motion, gyrating your hips against her taut abdomen, soaking every square inch of her, including her happy trail. can't forget that, can we.

at this point, she can barely keep her eyes open, poor thing, so mesmerized by you in all your glory, grinding your hard clit selfishly against her like this, it was almost enough to make her finish just like that. within a fraction of a second.

“b-baby—ah”, words are failing her, her voice high pitched and shaky. her hands find their way to your hips, and she assists you in your mission, the sensation of the cold metal of her mechanical arm sending shocks up your spine.

words have failed you as well, nothing but grunts and whimpers resembling sevika's name falling from your lips. your ruts speed up, no longer following any rhyme or reason, all you can think about is getting to that peak. you're so absorbed in how her muscles feel against your pussy, you are almost brought to the point of forgetting where you were.

rhythmic “ah, hah, ah, ah—” following every thrust, the intensity of the impending orgasm swirling inside you, and she can't help but moan with you, the ache in her drooling core growing more uncomfortable by the moment.

with a cry you're hit with blinding pleasure, all your senses cutting out. you hump against her some more, riding out the high as much as you could before the throes of overstimulation took their hold, and your body was enveloped with waves of relaxation.

you come to, and look down, your eyes meeting those of sev’s, her mouth slightly open, arms limp by her sides, chest heaving up and down as she—and you—register what happened. you climb off of her and fall in an embrace, burying your face in the crook of her neck. the heat of embarrassment and realization spreads throughout the surface of the skin, only you're brought out of it by sevika's sugary voice. she sounds dazed, high as a kite, speaking slowly, “that…was so hot. you're so hot. my turn?”

because this is my first fic for sev, im not gonna tag people but i will add her as an option and put my taglist here anyway ♡

[wispstalk]

ok u know what? Objectively correct ranking of skyrim's cities is coming out of the drafts. Listed from best to worst.

1. SOLITUDE: no one should be surprised by this. this is a list for real city lovers, and solitude has all the shit a city is supposed to have.

2. WHITERUN: same deal as above. palace is pretty sick but it's not perched on an enormous rock arch over a harbor, so points deducted.

3. MARKARTH: now we're venturing into controversy. If you don't like Markarth, you're a wimp. "wehh there's a demon house wehhhh I saw someone get murdered and had to slaughter my way out of prison" skill issue. I'm gawking at waterfalls and feats of ancient civil engineering, I'm eating delicious mystery meat at a food cart, I'm buying a badass dog, I'm ingratiating myself to the local crime family, I'm breaking into the temple so a drunk can crank off to a statue, I'm secure in the best-fortified city in the province. I am having a GREAT time in Markarth. Get on my level and by "my level" I mean six flights of stairs.

4. RIFTEN: Extremely cool layout and great location. Would be ranked higher if guys stopped fighting guards and random citizens to the death over a stolen candlestick. I figure after a while you just get used to that and stop caring.

5. WINDHELM: none of you rubes can appreciate architecture. Also, do YOU live somewhere that you can beat a racist's ass without the cops getting mad at you? Do tell

6. FALKREATH: it's fine.

7. MORTHAL: this is where you see the integrity of my infallible judgments, because personally I think Bog Is Best, but I have taken its small size and shit economy into consideration.

8. WINTERHOLD: in shambles, and probably super boring if you're not a wizard, but I could have a decent time poking around in dangerous condemned buildings and failing to impress Faralda.

9. DAWNSTAR: Awful climate, broke-ass museum, unimpressive port, Jarl is a dick, host to a murder cult torture hole, nightmare plague, miserable mine with child labor. Only redeeming feature is one guy and the nightmare plague is kinda his fault.

I was right about daedra-fucking and I'm right about this. Disagree with me in the tags at your peril

[petew21-blog]

Revenge possession, part 2

"So what is this game called again?" I asked out loud with Devon's voice.

Devon in the back of our mind:"Dead by daylight. You play either as a survivor or the killer. Depending on the role you have to escape or kill all the survivors."

I chuckled a bit:"You don't see how that's ironic?"

Devon was silent. "I'm so sorry, man. Jesus, I didn't think this through. Haha. Well... you should be good in this game right?"

Me:"Not really. I kinda didn't even know I was being hunted. Your parents just picked me up and then tortured me in the woods. I didn't have much of a chance to even run."

Devon:"Oh... I'm so sorry for that, man. My parents are horrible people."

Me:"Yeah. And I know they killed much more people than just me. That's why it needs to stop"

Devon:"So are you sure that killing them would be the best revenge for all these years of their murder spree?"

Me:"What else can I do? It's not like I had much of a choice. Few days ago I didn't even have a body. Now I co-share yours. Yeah, stealing their sons body is good revenge too, but you're a good person. And I don't want to take over your life."

Devon:"Not what I was aiming for. I honestly love having you here with me. You're like a second voice/brother/best friend inside of me. Oh shit. I just figured. I keep calling you bro. What's your real name?"

Me:"Paul. Took you long to ask, man. Not cool"

Devon:"Sorry, haha. So... Paul. You're like 40 now, right?"

Me:"I would be if your parents didn't kill me. But I died when I was 21 like you are now. So my mind basically stayed 21 I suppose. Except for roaming the country I didn't have much fun through all these years. These past few days as you, just chilling here, playing video games, jerking off and talking to you is the most fun I had over these 20 years."

Devon took control over his body to let go of the controler and to flex his biceps. The sweat hitting his nose.

Me:"What are you doing? I thought we were gonna play?"

Devon:"Nah, just reminding you what body you're in"

Devon:"Look at me man. I have beautiful abs, massive arms. These thighs could crush a melon between them. I appreciate that you picked me and that you like my body, but you gotta do something about this. We gotta go have fun. With another living being."

Me:"Devon... I really am happy how you treat me in your body, but... I don't think we have the same type of dating pool"

Devon:"I don't care whoever you fuck. I'm straight, or atleast I think I am, but very accepting. And if my man inside of me wants to fuck some handsome man, I will be more than happy to help you out. Bros gotta help each other"

Me:"But it's gonna be your body, man."

Devon:"So? You could do much worse with my body and you didn't. Getting fucked or fucking someone in the ass is not so bad."

Me:"Ok? So what place do you suggest?"

Devon:"Gym. We can show everyone what this body can do. Lot of people observe me there, so you can pick whoever you desire"

We arrived to the gym. So many hot and sexy people in sight. Devon took control to do his normal routine. It sucks that I could also have a body like this, but back in the day I wanted to see the world. I wanted to be myself in a world that hates my kind. Twenty years later, the world is so much more accepting. It's not ideal, but wow. How things gave changed

I still can't believe that Devon let's me stay in his body. I mean, look at him. He could be anything, have anyone. And yet this hot piece of meat is depressed with his easy life, being alone most of the time. I guess that's what happens when your serial killer parents move your family every now and then. You don't have any friends and those that you did might already be dead by their hand. How horrible... I honestly can't wait to see them. To look them in their face. With their son's face and to kill them. I hope Devon will forgive me. I know he says he wants to stop them, but it's his parents. I just have to make sure that he will not stop me when the time comes

Devon was just finishing up, when a cute twink approached us.

The guy:"Hey, I hope you don't mind that I was watching you"

Devon:"Nah, it's ok man. You need a hand with lifting?"

The guy smiled. "Oh I do need a hand, I just don't know If I asked the right person"

Devon sat down, looking all confused:"That depends if..."

I stopped Devon mid sentence. "I think that's a cue for me to take over, ok?"

Devon now in the back of my mind:"Sorry man, I usually don't respond to guys hitting on me. Go on. Have fun"

I smiled at the guy and casually finished the sentence

We headed to the showers. The owners must be probably sick with all these guys hooking up here. But we didn't care. We made out passionately. The twins was all over my muscles, as I would be in his place too. He was a bit smaller. That gave me a sense of dominating him.

I stopped and smiled at the guy. "I... just gotta let you know that I am a virgin"

Devon:"What!!! Dude, you never had sex with anyone?"

The guy looked at me from top to bottom. "You? If good looking people like you are virgins, then I have no idea how world works."

I chuckled nervously. It was true. I was 21 when I died, but back then it was much harder to date a find gay guy. Now you can just download Grindr and in a few minutes you got yourself a guy in your bedroom

Twink:"Well in that case we can go to your place and have some fun there. This isn't a very nice place to have your first time, don't you think"

I just smiled and nodded in approval

We were now in Devon's messy room. The guy was really shocked to see such a straight man cave, but didn't say a word. We made out. He took off my shirt soaked in sweat from gym. His lips now kissed my neck and went to over my pecs, down the middle to my waist band. He took my hard dick into his hand, squeezed hard and looked me deep into my eyes. His look was so full of lust, yet I could tell it was superficial. This guy isn't looking for romance. He just wants to be fucked hard. So let's give it to him

I took a bit of control of the moment. I grabbed him by the neck. Turned him around and pressed him against the wall. He was now moaning in pleasure as I was rubbing my hard dick hidden beneath the layers of my clothes against his ass. I was still holding him, choking him.

I pulled of my shorts and his just low enough to get my dick in there. I wanted to push it right in there. As hard as I could

Devon suddenly screamed out from the back of his mind:"Condom dude!!!"

I left the guy, moanjng against the wall, reaching out to the condom on the shelf. I was struggling to find which side to pick to put it on my dick

Twink:"Wait. Let me" it was obvious he jas done it a few times. The condor was on in a matters of seconds. "Do you have any lube?"

Devon intervened again:"Top drawer. Give him more attention, man. You're making it all about yourself"

"Shut up" I said out loud as a response to Devon, but the guy looked confused. "Oh sorry, not you. I'm just nervous. I have lube right here."

The guy went on Devon's bed on his back. His clothes were now gone and his ass was welcoming my dick. His legs wide open.

I pressed lightly my dick with a ridiculous ammount of lube on top.

It went smoothly so I tried to went all the way. This seemed to hurt the twins. "Hold your horses. I'm good, but not that good. A bit slower, cowboy."

I went in slowly. The pleasure got to Devon too. The way this guys ass was tight around the head of our dick was sending our minds to heaven.

I picked up the pace. The twink was moaning in pleasure and in pain at the same time. I grabbed him by the next to choke him. My other arm pressing his thigh.

Twink:"Harder!" I thought I was going as hard as possible, but I didn't think he could take it much more

Twink:"Harder!!!"

Devon:"Oh, jesus. Let me do it" Devon took over. I was in the back of our mind again. Still feeling everything.

Devon was like a beast, but the twink was really enjoying it.

I could feel all the cum building up. Ooh there's gonna be tons of cum.

Devon was biting his lower líp and furiously pounding this guy's ass. Sure, "Straight" my ass.

Devon:"I'm cumming!!!"

Twink:"Fill me! I want it all"

Devon shot out the stream of cum into the condom. The wave of pleasure was so overwhelming. So much, that I lost control for a moment. I didn't know what was happening.

I opened my eyes. Still as Devon. Good. But I was back in control. But I was alone here. I couldn't feel Devon

"DEVON?!?"

Twink:"Right here. You pushed my soul out of my body, dude. If the guy here wasn't as welcoming you would have me erased or something"

Me:"I'm so sorry. I didn't think that would happen."

Devon:"It's fine. This guy's soul is asleep or maybe gone? I don't know. But I can't hear him now. Dude! I could feel my body's orgasm and his orgasm at the same time. I can assure you, that this is definitely the best I'll ever feel. So overwhelming."

Me:"Shit, dude. We gotta figure out how to get you put of there. Or you might be stuck"

Devon:"What if we wait for a bit? I kinda wanna try having sex with my body."

Me:"Kinky. You wanna get pounded too?"

Devon:"Guess I'm not so straight anymore, right?"

After our first fucking session, Devon passed out from all the sex. We still didn't know where this guy's soul was, but we would figure that out soon. I was just happy that I was finally alive. And I even have a boyfriend now? If that's what I can call Devon. Not to put labels on our relationship or anything

I grabbed the first pair of shorts from the floor I could find. Still sweaty from the sex, I headed to the kitchen to get myself a drink of water.

I was interrupted by a dark figure in the corner of the room

"Hello, son"

I was full of rage. But I can't fuck it up now. If I kill him, I won't know where his mom is and that would take me another decade to find her.

"Hey, dad. How was your holiday"

"Oh wonderful. Rome is your mother's favourite place to visit"

I tried to act as much as possible. Devon was in his room in a wrong body, so that wouldn't help me.

"Did you go to Colosseum this time?"

"Oh, we sure did." The father responded. But in the matter of seconds his expression changed. He was now holding a gun pointed at me

"What are you doing, dad?!"

"Devon knows we went to Bahamas"

Fuck. So he knew all along that I'm not Devon. But how?

"Me and my wife found out that the folk like you, who want to have your revenge for what we did, come back as ghosts to make our lives a living hell."

"So I'm not the first one?"

"Hahaha. Of course you're not. The first one came when Devon was 2 years old. Of course he doesn't remember, but that was a nasty one. All the paranormal stuff. We didn't know what we were dealing with back then. But now, oh we are used to deal with you. But possessing Devon is a first. Some possessed us and tried to kill us, but obviously failed."

"How can you tell that I'm not him? Besides the question."

"Oh it's an aura thing. Once you have the experience and a good guidance, you can just tell when a soul isn't in their rightful place."

"Now, tell me. Did Devon put up a lot of fight? Your answer will change the course of your torture."

"Devon is ok. He's in the body of the guy downstairs. It was an accident"

"Sure it was. That would make sure that we couldn't kill you or him, right? We're not so stupid, mister. Although I will not enjoy killing my son, there is no other choice."

"If you kill me, I will go after you even more. I have for the past 20 years and I will even after you die. My soul will not rest until you burn in hell"

"Sure you can do that, but it will take you some time to get out of this thing."

He was holding a wooden object with symbols

"What is that thing?"

"That mister, is your prison. It will bind you inside, until it breaks, or someone opens it on purpose. Which happens rarely if you ask me."

"You're doing a big mistake. Devon is in his room in a different body. Let him atleast get his body back."

"I can't take that chance. Me and my wife have a life to live up to and we won't stop just because our son got himself in some trouble and can't handle it."

"It's your son! You would kill him just so you can continue your killing spree?"

"Oh, definitely. Having a child is a great thing, but taking a life. That's something you won't ever forget about. The control it gives you."

"You're sick. No parent would ever do this to their child"

From the hallway a second voice spoke:"Oh these two are a chatty couple, right honey? So chatty chatty. But we need to hurry up, so get on with this" the mother said towards her husband

I could feel a horrible pain in my chest. Feelings very similar to the ones I felt 20 years ago. This couple was killing me again

"Sorry Devon. We couldn't have done anything" father said

"Devon hates you too!" I screamed out

"You're talking too much" and then nothing.

I don't know for how long this continued. I don't even know what they did with Devon's beautiful body. How they got rid of it.

Soon I started to feel walls around me. Walls? As a ghost I wouldn't be able to. Except if this is their prison that they were talking about.

I opened my eyes. There was only darkness. Nothing else. I looked around and on the other side of my prison was someone sitting, crying.

I got up to approach this person. He looked up

It was Devon. He was crying

"Paul! They killed me. My own mother slit my throat. I told her it's me. But she just killed me and trapped me into thus thing."

"I'm so so sorry, Devon. I never wanted any of this. I wanted revenge for them. But they were ready. They knew. Your father didn't listen to me too. He didn't care. I told him about your soul. But they are more sadistic then I thought"

"Paul, I'm dead. My parents killed me. My OWN PARENTS!"

"Devon, they are horrible people. And we will get our lives back. Maybe not our old lives, but we will. But first we have to get out of here. We're gonna get through this together. Ok?"

Devon collapsed into my arms. I was just glad that I could hold someone even if I was a ghost now. We were gonna get out of here, but I had no idea how

Outside of the ghost trap, the world went by.

Devon's father held the trap tightly as he watched his old house burn. His wife held her head on his shoulder.

"Ahhh, I think I might miss Devon. He gave our life some order"

"He limited us. We couldn't ve ourselves all the time. Now we can. What do you say we go pick up some hitchhiker?"

"Ohhhh, that's a lovely idea. Get rid of that box, it gives me the creeps"

And as the two of them were laughing while leaving, the box was sinking deeply into the river below the bridge until some human would find it.

If Paul and Devon would know what was happening to then right now, they would be devastated.

[homunculus-argument]

I think anti-bullying campaigns should scrap the whole "let's all be friends and not be mean! :)" angle which never worked, and instead try to appeal to the bullies' sense of their own best interest.

Like ok you're 11 and you think torture is fun. Yeah there's nothing that nobody can do about that. You know you're causing someone to suffer, that's the whole point, making someone suffer is fun to you. Why should you care that you're leaving permanent emotional scars on some other kid? Why is that ever going to matter, not to speak of 10 or 20 years from now?

Because you're going to grow up and that other kid is going to grow up too. You're going to forget this whole part of your life and grow up to be normal but they're not going to do that. All that suffering and hatred of your sadistic joy is going to stay with them and that rage is going to come out some way, somehow, eventually. Sure, most kids who were bullied will grow up into adults who never cause harm to anyone but themselves, and you don't care about their suffering now and as an adult won't remember it at all.

But one day you're going to be 30 with a wife and kids and a nice normal little house, and there's someone out there with permanent mental and emotional damage from being tortured as a child, who remembers your name, your face, and enough about your school history to potentially track you down.

[whateverloomis]

Ok this might seem weird so im sorry about this 😭

Can you do a reader who has a blog of sorts and she posts about her interests (like horror, books, movies etc) and she sometimes posts pictures of her in langerie or naked but in a artistic way for the female gaze (for the girliesss) but she stays Anonymous (doesnt show her face).

She decides to tell billy about it and they have a little photoshoot together

Bonus: him reading the comments like:

Person: that guy is so hot

Billy: hehe *kicks feet*

Don't worry about weirdness here anon, the weirder the better ;) I imagined this during the Myspace era (early 2k,) because it was iconic asf 😩 Also, I changed up the comment part based on the picture I chose. Enjoy! <33

Warnings: Making out, voyeurism, choking, dry humping, touchy feely Billy, p in v, creampie, reader has long hair, reader has nipple piercings, revised August'24

Reader: AFAB (she, her,) third person and use of YN.

She was wearing a black lace see through bralette that showed just enough of her pierced nipples, a matching thong with a garter and thigh high socks. Her hair cascaded a little over her shoulders, just enough to show on the picture while still remaining anonymous.

YN snapped a few pictures in different poses; arching her back with her ass on display, kneeling down with her hands on her tits, and many other deliciously teasy positions.

From outside her window stood Billy Loomis. He was walking towards her house to crawl through her window and get his way with her like he did almost every night now. However, once he saw YN taking pictures in her lingerie he needed to enjoy the view from outside a little bit before showing himself to her.

Gosh, she looked so good posing for the camera. He wondered if she was going to send them to someone. If he was lucky enough to be the receiver of sed pictures. His imagination ran wild imagining what the shots looked like.

Billy bit his lip and sighed, he decided he had tortured himself enough and walked towards her window, adjusting his hard cock in his jeans before climbing up and sitting on the ledge.

"Quite a show you're putting on," he said, startling YN.

"Billy, what the fuck?!" She whisper screamed, conscious about her roommate downstairs.

Sighing in attempt to calm herself, she grabbed her black robe and began to put it on.

Billy let himself in and walked towards YN, grabbing her hands to stop her from closing the robe; "Don't even think about it, let me look at you baby," he said teasingly and ran his large hands down her waist to her hips, squeezing the flesh.

YN bit her lip and ran her hands through Billy's hair before pulling him in for a lingering kiss.

"Mm, what's all this for?" He asked her, removing the robe and throwing it on the bed.

"I um... Well, I have this blog where I post pictures of myself an-" - "Looking like this?" He interrupted and YN blushed at the teasy yet low-key degrading question. She loved it.

"It's artistic, not porn if that's what you're wondering," YN answered and Billy smirked at her explanation. Looking around the room, he saw some Polaroid pictures of herself in her so-called "artsy" positions and lingerie.

"What about these?" Billy walked towards her dresser and grabbed a few of the images.

"Oh, I sell those," YN explained and Billy raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"Quite the business you have here." He replied while slipping one of the Polaroids in his pocket. He'll definitely use it later.

YN chuckled and walked towards Billy. He immediately spread his legs and pulled her between them, placing one single peck on her lips before things got heated.

Billy laid her down on the soft bed and hovered over her, biting her lip softly before dipping his tongue inside her mouth, playing with her own. YN moaned at his methodical movements, Billy is a great fucking kisser and she couldn't get enough.

Suddenly, he pulled back and whispered; "Fuck."

"What is it?," YN asked, confusion lacing her words.

"We look really good," Billy said and pointed at YNs computer screen. She had left it on along with her camera since he decided to give her an unexpected surprise.

The sight got YN wet and she bit her lip when she felt Billy's cock twitch between her legs.

His large hands on her body looked delicious and she couldn't help but grind up against his hard on.

Billy followed her movements and they ended up dry humping on her bed. She was soaked and most likely ruined her thong but she didn't care.

"What if we take some pictures together?" Billy asked, his voice low in her ear.

YN gasped in excitement and immediately said yes.

•

The photoshoot session was intense. The couple couldn't get their hands off each other.

Billy grabbed YN everywhere and they took over 100 pictures together. They were going insane looking at each other on the screen, so much that they ended up fucking their brains out.

YN rode Billy's cock in front of the camera and ended up recording some of it too.

She bounced on his length and pulled his hair, hard. Billy had his hand around YNs throat choking her deliciously.

"You look so fucking good for the camera baby... Fuck," he whispered before cumming inside her throbbing pussy.

Billy pulled out and YN arched her back in order to give the camera a good view of his seed leaking out of her cunt.

•

After cleaning up and viewing all the pictures they took, the couple settled on a picture to post on YNs blog.

Not long after, the notifications started to increase. Comments and likes nonstop. YN had a large following and they were loving the new content.

"Check this comment out," YN told Billy.

"His hands look so good, I want them around my throat... Ugh!"

Billy chuckled and pretended that he didn't care about the compliment, but YN knew best. Not to mention the light blush that appeared on his cheeks.

"You love the praise, huh?," YN said teasingly and bit her lip.

"Shut up. I bet you agree with that comment," he said, trying to shift the conversation.

"You know I do," YN answered and kissed him once again.

[dandylovesturtles]

Using a random number generator for the angst prompts: 20 Starved + 30 Dangerous Temperatures

... and Leo, of course.

OH GOD OK

uh so. I had an idea. and I decided to write it for this ask I got forever ago. And then, uh.

it really

really got out of hand.

This is a pretty dark fic (even for me) and at the current moment in time it is hurt/no comfort. I do intend to write a part 2, probably tomorrow, but as of the time I'm typing this author's note I've been writing for around 5+ hours straight and I need to take a break! So please, if you don't want to read all this without the comfort included, feel free to wait for the next part before reading! I'll link it and the end once it's posted.

Content warnings: Kidnapping, confinement, psychological torture, nonconsensual voyeurism (I guess this is the best way to put this; Leo isn't doing anything sexual but it's still violating), mild violence, HEAVY ANGST, Leo just having the shittiest time possible.

I HOPE?? YOU ENJOY??? hahahaha....

btw this is set between S2 and the movie (though tbh its canon compliance is... /waves hand)

-----

When Leo imagined himself getting captured by some kind of shady, quasi-governmental agency intent on imprisoning mutants, it was never anything like this.

When he let his mind go there, he always pictured that he would be strapped to a table. Maybe muzzled. That scientists would stand over him, scalpels and drills in hand, and start to take him apart. That they'd examine him piece by piece, and wouldn't give him any anesthesia while they did it.

But there is no table, no muzzle, no restraints at all. He's just in a room.

Well, a cell, technically - the steel door is locked, and there are no windows, no furniture but a bare cot in one corner and a lone toilet in another. But it doesn't really look like a cell. It looks like a room.

A very, very white room. White walls. White ceiling. White tiles (with white grout, even). The toilet is white, a roll of white toilet paper on the floor next to it. The only things that aren't white are the cot and the door and Leo himself.

They took his gear and his weapons, because of course they did. Since the door is steel, he already knows he's not breaking it down; he gives it a half-hearted slam anyway, just to say he tried. He should be able to just portal out, except he hasn't learned how to use his portals without his swords to channel his ninpo through, and there's nothing in here with him that he can use to make new ones.

So he's stuck. He's going to have to wait until someone opens that door for some reason. Or, of course, until his family swings by to pick him up. Though, if possible, he'd like to escape before that happens. The image in his mind, of sitting outside his cell and grinning at them as they arrive to rescue him, is too cool to pass up.

He's not sure how long it's been already. He knows that they knocked him out after ambushing him, and he doesn't know how long he was unconscious. The heavy molasses feel of his head and arms when he woke up suggests that he was drugged. It's wearing off now, though, which means he has a clear head to take in the all of nothing that's in the room with him.

He sits on the cot he woke up on and waits for something to happen.

There's no way for him to tell time, but he thinks it's an hour or so later when there's a sudden beep, and then the sound of a metal panel sliding up. It's a slot near the door that has just opened - inside the revealed alcove is a bottle of water.

He comes to it curiously, taking a long look around the bottle. The slot doesn't open straight through, and even if it did, it's not big enough for anything more than his arm or a foot to fit through. He thinks it must function like an airlock, or maybe they slid the bottle down from somewhere above - he feels around just in case, and finds that the slot is enclosed on all sides but his. Probably his airlock theory, then.

As soon as he removes the bottle, the panel slams shut again.

"You're really determined to keep me in here, huh?" he says to whatever hidden cameras are watching him. He carries the water bottle back to his cot, but doesn't open it, instead setting it down on the floor by the wall. The paranoid part of his brain, the one that doesn't miss a trick, is reminding him that drinking the water is probably a bad idea. Who knows what they might have put in it?

He sits on the cot for awhile longer. Still, nothing happens.

"I'm getting pretty bored in here," he says for the audience that must be somewhere. "Come on, you have a one of a kind turtle in here, and you don't even want to talk to me?"

Time passes, slow and quiet. Leo goes through periods where his anxiety spikes and he starts to wonder if he's been abandoned by whoever brought him here, before the boredom eventually numbs the anxiety back out. Another bottle of water is eventually delivered, and this one he keeps in his hands after retrieving it. It's completely unlabeled, not even a "Use by" date printed on the bottle itself, so it doesn't provide much mental stimulation. He spins the bottle to make little whirlpools inside, because it's something to do.

He's trying to make the fastest whirlpool he can when he hears a sudden click, different from the beep of the water bottle hole, and he looks up just in time to see a large section of the wall in front of him turn black, and then light up to show the room beyond his cell.

He jolts, setting the bottle aside. He knew they must be watching him, but somehow he didn't catch that part of the wall was a whole window.

His audience isn't very large - five people, unless there are others he can't see. Two wear lab coats, two wear fatigues... but the one who comes to stand directly in front of the window is wearing a black suit, with steel rimmed glasses. He leans forward, and speaks into a small microphone.

"Inmate 24365," says the suited man. "I am Agent Bishop, of the Earth Protection Force. My subordinates tell me that you can speak and understand the English language. Is this correct?"

"Qué?" Leo asks.

Bishop does not look amused. "Inmate 24365," he says, "you have two options. You can cooperate with me, answer my questions, and we will make your stay here more comfortable. Do not cooperate, and we will make your stay uncomfortable. Do you understand?"

Leo pretends to hem and haw over this. "How comfortable are we talkin'?"

"I'm sure you would like some dinner."

"You know, I'm not really hungry." He says it to be difficult, but it's actually true - the uncertainty of the situation has put his stomach in too many knots to want to eat anything. "Maybe if you offer me some comic books? Or a TV?

To Bishop's credit, his face doesn't so much as twitch. He keeps his steely eyes locked on Leo. "Answer our questions, and you will receive food. Do you understand?"

Leo stays noncommittal. "What are the questions?"

He's expecting Bishop to ask about his family. He's not expecting what comes next.

"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave?" he asks. "How are these gateways accessed? What kind of defensive capabilities do the yokai have?"

Leo keeps the surprise off his face. Bishop thinks he's a yokai.

This is, overall, a good development. Bishop might not know about Leo's family, then, or at least not know that they live on the surface. This means the Earth Protection Force likely isn't pursuing his brothers, which means they will be safe until they can help Leo get out of here.

He doesn't let the relief show through, either. Bishop doesn't know anything, and now Leo just has to ride out the next few hours until the calvary arrives.

"You know," he says, "I think I'm good with my current levels of comfort."

If Bishop is mad or frustrated or dismayed by this choice, he doesn't show it. His expression stays stony as he stares in at Leo, sizing him up.

"Very well," he says after a few more seconds. "I will see you tomorrow, then."

The window goes dark, and then turns stark white to match the walls. Leo wants to go over and tap at it, see if it feels different when he touches it, but knowing that Bishop is surely still there, watching him, keeps him rooted to the cot.

He goes back to making whirlpools with the bottle. If they aren't going to entertain him, he isn't going to entertain them, either.

-----

Another water bottle comes some time after his talk with Bishop. He finally opens this one and takes a cautious sip. Nothing tastes off or strange, so he drinks more. They don't want to feed him, but they're fine keeping him hydrated. No reason to stay thirsty, then.

He wishes the water calmed the anxiety still roiling in his stomach, but if anything it just makes him feel even more energized. He bounces his foot and surveys his room again, looking for any weak spots or access points. He can't see anything, though, other than the areas where he knows the water bottle hole and window are; even the vents that relentlessly blow cold air into the room are well hidden.

Knowing that there are people standing just outside his cell watching him, like some kind of zoo animal, puts him on edge. The window is so big that he's pretty sure the only blind spots are either directly underneath it or right by the door on the same wall. After debating it, he leaves his cot and sits on the floor underneath the window, surveying the room from a different angle now and still coming up empty. At least they're going to have a harder time staring at him.

His eyes catch on the toilet in the corner, directly across from the window. It's not in the blind spot, and realizing this makes his insides lurch uncomfortably - hopefully he has a chance to bust out before using it becomes necessary.

Though, he's not sure when that chance is going to come. If they have a slot to pass him water, they could use that to pass him food, too, so it's unlikely that anyone is going to open the door unless they need to take him out.

So maybe his fantasy of being outside when his brothers arrive isn't going to happen. Well, that's okay; he'll just be sure to make some other part of their escape totally rad. That will make up for the embarrassment of getting kidnapped a block from Run of the Mill.

(Seriously, some kind of ninja he is, to let a bunch of human soldiers sneak up on him.)

He drains the water bottle, then starts to roll it back and forth across the floor, like a cat batting at a toy. Leo's not sure what's worse right now: the worry or the boredom. There's nothing to look at and no one to talk to, just an empty room with him and his water bottles.

He's too keyed up to sleep, and the fluorescent lights are still on, anyway. He has no way of telling what time it is, so maybe it just isn't that late yet. And even sitting here, in the blind spot, the idea of closing his eyes while people are watching makes unease crawl up his spine. Staying awake is the easy choice. He'll sleep after he's out of here.

So he sits under the window and rolls his bottle back and forth, back and forth, with only the sound of plastic on tile to keep his thoughts company.

-----

The first three water bottles came pretty regularly, but now there is a very long stretch where nothing is delivered. Leo is starting to think maybe it really is night now. They don't turn off the lights in his cell, though, and he has no controls to do it himself. At least it helps with the whole "staying awake" thing.

Just in case they've decided to suspend his water privileges along with the food, he holds off drinking any more for now.

Speaking of food, his appetite has finally decided to return. His stomach starts to growl at him after several hours (he thinks) of sitting in the floor, an annoying emptiness in his stomach. Knowing there's no food accessible just makes the hunger sharper, but he puts it out of his mind the best he can with nothing else to focus on. He can eat once he's free.

Which should be soon. Seriously, his brothers have to be on their way by now, right?

He's pretty sure it's been the better part of a day, if not a whole day, since he was kidnapped. And, okay, he's willing to give them some leeway; it's understandable if they got a late start. He did storm out of the lair after his latest fight with Raph, and no one ever came to check on him when he did that. Understandably, he thinks, because who wants to be around Bad Mood Leo? Not even Leo wants to be around Bad Mood Leo!

But he'd already turned back into Good Mood Leo by the time he left Hueso's, so surely they knew it had been more than enough time. They would have noticed when he didn't come home. They would have realized something happened. They would be looking for him.

And if they're looking for him, they'll find him! Obviously.

His stomach growls again, and Leo leans his head back against the wall behind him. Maybe he shouldn't think of being at Hueso's. Now he just wants pizza. Pepperoni and mushroom, maybe, or Hawaiian. Mix it up a little with the barbeque chicken.

Another growl. He groans out loud.

He stays awake, twisting and crinkling the empty bottle in his hands, until another full one finally arrives.

-----

No chance to escape comes before using the toilet is necessary.

He tried to hold out, he really did, but he ended up drinking more water to stave off the growing hunger, and it's lowkey cold in here, which doesn't help. Still, the issue of the window sends an uneasy shiver up his spine, doubting that any people outside will feel the need to turn away and give him some privacy. Maybe he should have gone while he suspected it was nighttime.

(Maybe he shouldn't assume they ever aren't watching him.)

He stands up and walks over to the cot, giving it a light nudge with his foot. In a stroke of luck, it isn't bolted to the floor, and it's light enough that he can lift it. The black mesh it's made of is tightly woven, enough that not much is visible through it. It will have to do.

He picks it up and drags it over in front of the toilet, propping it up on its legs so it makes a small wall between himself and the window. It's hardly ideal, but the semblance of privacy makes him relax somewhat.

(He can't think about how there are surely cameras in the room watching him from all angles, making his attempt at a barrier moot. He knows better than anyone that sometimes pleasant lies are necessary.)

After he does his business, he leaves the cot propped where it is; it's not like he's sleeping on it. There's no sink for him to wash his hands, but he's never been the strictest about it, anyway (much to Donnie's disgust). He returns to his spot under the window, squeezing the water bottle to the rhythm of the first song that comes to mind.

Only two verses and a bridge later, the window above his head turns black, then goes clear. Thinking that Bishop might have been watching him just now makes a cold, slimy feeling roll down his spine. Creepy!

"Inmate 24365," comes Bishop's voice through the unseen speaker. "Stand."

Leo doesn't. He stays right where he is, under the window.

Bishop waits only a few seconds. Then Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."

He gets up at that, turning and leaning his arm against the window. It strangely doesn't feel like glass, even though it must be. "It's already cold enough in here," he says. He wonders how they can hear him, when he doesn't see a microphone on his side.

"You were told your conditions would only be made comfortable after you answer our questions," Bishop informs him. "The same as before: how many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways-"

"How about you answer my questions first," Leo interjects. "You keep calling me "inmate," but I haven't been charged with anything. Pretty sure you can't detain me without cause."

"The EPF is authorized to detain non-human inmates for as long as deemed necessary for the security of the United States," says Bishop smoothly. "Probable cause doctrine does not apply in this case."

"That's gotta be unconstitutional."

"The constitution does not recognize the rights of yokai. You have no right to counsel, no right to a speedy trial, and no right to protections from cruel and unusual punishments." Bishop's stare is colder than the temperature in the room. "But I am not an unfair man. Answer my questions, and I will provide you with food and clothing."

Leo tosses a glance over his shoulder. "How about a private bathroom?"

Bishop's expression stays ever in place, unimpressed and stoic. "Food and clothing," he repeats.

Leo gives his head a shake. "Then nope," he says, popping the "p". "I plead the fifth."

"As I have already explained, the Bill of Rights does not apply to you."

"That's such crap." Leo bangs his fist on the window. "You can't just keep me here forever for no reason!"

"I do have reasons." Bishop leans closer to the window, his eyes narrowing. "Let's try a different question. What is your relation to Baron Draxum?"

The surprise is fast and sharp, but Leo just manages to keep it from showing on his face. "Who?" he asks innocently, even as the panic sets into his chest. If they know about Draxum, what else do they know?

"We know you are acquainted with him," says Bishop. "What is the nature of your relationship?"

Leo knows they aren't bluffing - why would they bring up that very specific name otherwise? There's no lie he can tell that won't reveal something.

So he doesn't say anything. Instead, he turns his back to the window and sits down, staring resolutely at the opposite wall.

Bishop clicks his tongue. "Very well," he says. "I am a patient man. I can wait." Then, more muffled, like he's facing away from the microphone, Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."

The window goes dark, then turns back to white. Leo doesn't move for a long time.

-----

The third water bottle arrives, so he guesses that's the end of day two.

He's shaking as he gets up to retrieve it, adding it to his growing water bottle hoard. He's gone through three and a half by now, but he's trying not to drink them too fast.

As promised, no food is delivered, and his stomach growls and rumbles in protest. The water helps, but only slightly. He needs to eat.

He also needs to sleep.

The panicked adrenaline spikes that have kept him awake this long are starting to die down, with more and more long stretches of exhaustion between them. The shaking is near constant, bringing with it the weird jittery feeling he gets when his insomnia gets particularly bad.

The window is still unnerving him. The idea of sleeping while they're watching him feels staggeringly unsafe.

But he doesn't think he can hold out now until his family gets here. Sure, they're probably getting close (they have to be getting close), but they're sure taking their sweet time. And he's just so tired.

After a long internal debate, he lays down on the cold tile floor. It's not at all comfortable, but somehow he doubts the cot would be any better. Besides, even if he moves the cot under the window, he thinks it would be easier to see him if he uses it. So on the floor it is.

He presses as close to the wall as he can, curling up into a ball for warmth. He wishes he had a blanket.

He wishes he was home.

He squeezes his eyes shut tight and forces back the sudden wave of overwhelming homesickness. There's no reason to feel this way. It's only been two days! What is he, a baby?

It's fine. It's all fine. They're definitely on his trail now. Raph is leading the team. Donnie is using some kind of invention to blah blah blah nerd stuff. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative journalism skills to find clues.

They're on their way. He just has to hold out a little longer. He can do this.

He sleeps, and in his dreams, something grabs him tight and drags him down and down and down where he can't escape.

-----

The same routine plays out over the next two days.

Leo gets two water bottles delivered, spaced, if he had to guess, about five hours apart. Bishop comes to visit him some time after the second bottle. Leo refuses to answer his questions. Bishop turns the temperature down and then leaves. A few hours later his last water bottle comes. Then nothing for the whole night.

They still don't turn off his lights, but exhaustion is starting to win over the brightness.

More than a few times, Leo tries to summon a portal on his own, without his swords. If his family is going to take their sweet time in coming, he might as well try to help them out. He tries to summon his ninpo (without glowing), tries to feel the tug inside of him that he always does when he teleports, tries to envision the place he wants to go and tunnel through space to get there.

Nothing. Always nothing.

(Donnie can make his constructs independent of his bo staff. Raph can send his projections away from his sai. Mikey's learning to use mystic powers without his nunchucks. So why does Leo need his katana? Why is he the only one this useless?)

It probably doesn't help that he's so damn hungry. It's a constant companion now, a low and hollow ache that chooses inconvenient times to turn into white hot stabs of urgency, into seizing cramps that steal his breath. The water only helps so much - it keeps him alive but doesn't satisfy, doesn't soothe. In some ways it just makes the feeling worse.

And he's always shaking, too, but he doesn't know if that's the hunger or the cold.

Maybe the cold wouldn't bother him so much if it were at least still. But the vents blow fresh air inside relentlessly, and no matter where he goes he can't seem to get out of the direct stream. The cold wind batters his tired body, and there's places his skin is starting to turn dry and flaky. His nose won't stop running, and he's allowed himself a small section of his one roll of toilet paper to blow it, already stiff and congealed and disgusting.

It's miserable.

And there's still nothing to do.

He stacks a pyramid out of his empty water bottles, knocks it down, then stacks it up again. He tries to come up with some new and exciting ways to demolish it, but it's only new and exciting for so long.

He spends a few hours of day three singing karaoke as obnoxiously as possible. He hopes everyone outside enjoys the performance.

He recounts every issue of Jupiter Jim he knows to himself, then the plot of every movie. Then he goes through Lou Jitsu films, then anything else he can think of. That eats up a good chunk of day four.

By the time he gets his first water bottle of day five, he's out of ideas to entertain himself. He's never been good at this. He doesn't know how introverts like Donnie can go multiple days without talking to someone.

But when Bishop comes back with his daily offer of conversation, Leo once again impolitely declines.

-----

Something new happens on night five.

It's been a long time since the last water bottle. Leo has been trying to sleep, but it's not coming easy; he's exhausted, but the floor is so cold and he's so sore from staying on it night after night. Not to mention, his nightmares have been getting worse, and he isn't eager to return to them.

Add on the hunger, and sleep is elusive.

Suddenly, there's the telltale shadow of the window above him turning dark - this time, though, it doesn't light up as much as normal. Confused and curious, Leo sits up and takes a peek.

The room beyond is dim, only the glow of a green EXIT sign and a small desk lamp lighting the space. But it's enough for Leo to see a man standing there, looking inside. It's not Bishop - in fact, he doesn't recognize this person at all. They're wearing fatigues, but it's not anyone he's seen in the room during Bishop's normal interrogations.

The man catches sight of Leo, and the grinning leer on his face makes Leo regret looking.

He beckons for Leo to stand up. Warily, Leo does, unable to help but keep his arms folded tight over his chest. Not for the first time, he wishes he had some clothes - his gear, at the very least. Anything to not feel quite so exposed.

The man reaches down and picks something up, holding it aloft for Leo's inspection. "Want a sandwich?" he asks into the microphone.

The sandwich looks like white bread and bologna. No cheese, no other toppings that Leo can spot. Maybe some mustard, if anything. Overall, the most boring possible sandwich he could have been offered.

Leo's mouth is watering.

He has to swallow hard before answering. He doesn't trust this. Even if his stomach is slamming up and down at the promise of food, food, food.

"I'm not hungry," he lies.

The man laughs. It's not a kind sound. "Sure you ain't," he says. "You spend every night curled up on the floor like the dumb animal you are. Can you even eat this?" He waves the sandwich for emphasis.

Leo doesn't answer. He takes a step back from the window, like that will put any kind of distance between them. Like that will save him.

The man watches him with a sleezy grin. He waves the sandwich again.

"You want this," he says.

Leo shakes his head.

"You really sure?"

Leo shudders. Stands tall. Nods.

The man watches him for a long, long moment. Leo fights the urge to hide.

Finally, with a shrug, the man says, "Suit yourself."

Then he starts eating the sandwich. Right where Leo can watch.

Leo's stomach growls, loud and angry in his ears, and he has to physically hold himself back from crumpling.

After several bites, the man suddenly reaches out and taps the window, indicating the cot stood up in front of the toilet.

"That," he says, giving another tap for emphasis, "doesn't do shit."

Leo wants to crawl out of his own skin.

The need to hide is suddenly too great. He rushes to the cot, grabbing it and dragging it back to the blind spot under the window. He sets it down on all four legs, so it's as close to the floor as possible.

Then he lies down on his belly and wriggles underneath. It's a tight squeeze, and the cot ends up pushed up by his shell, suspended in the air, but he doesn't care.

He curls up in his pleasant lie of privacy and bites his hand to keep from screaming himself hoarse.

After an eternity, the window above him turns white again. It doesn't matter. Leo knows he's still there. Still watching.

-----

"You look tired," Bishop greets him. Leo answers with a dead-eyed stare.

"I keep telling you, if you want your conditions to improve, all you have to do is answer my questions."

Leo says nothing. He just stares, arms wrapped tight around himself to try and keep his body heat in.

"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways accessed?"

For a moment, Leo considers just... telling him.

His family doesn't live in the Hidden City. The yokai have never exactly greeted them with open arms. What does he care if these military guys go after them? At least then, maybe he can finally eat something.

That's not what a hero does, Leo! echoes Mind Raph disapprovingly. Innocent people will get hurt!

Right. He's a hero. And heroes don't give into the demands of shitty guys like Bishop.

Leo swallows hard. "No comment."

Bishop's face changes ever so slightly: his brow creases. Leo wonders if that's good or bad for him.

"You understand that Baron Draxum is a known threat, don't you?" he asks. "We are aware of his plans to commit mass murder on the human population. We also know that he has been dormant for some time, and we need information on what he is planning."

Leo thinks of Barry's ambitions to be recognized as the best lunchperson in all of America and can't help but laugh. It comes out cracked and wheezing.

Bishop's furrow gets deeper. "Do you think this is funny?"

"Little bit," says Leo.

Bishop has a chasm to rival Raph's now. Leo knows he shouldn't, but he grins. It's his one moment of triumph - only he can be this aggravating.

And then Bishop says, "Temperature down seven degrees," and that wipes the smile right off Leo's face.

-----

The plastic of the water bottles is soft and pliable and feels weirdly good under Leo's teeth.

He chews the top of the bottle, gnawing at it until it's completely flattened out, pockmarked with little tiny indents from his incisors. It's not eating - it won't fill his belly or ease the persistent hunger pains. But something about the motion is soothing. The place-bo effect.

Pla-ce-bo, corrects Donnie's voice in his mind, sounding testy.

Where are you? Leo thinks back.

There's no answer.

He's gnawed his way through four water bottles. There's eighteen in total now, two and a half still full of water. He thought about using one to wash up a bit, but decided against it in the end. He knows he stinks, but the last thing he wants right now is to be wet. Not when he's starting to see his breath.

Oh well. It's not like he has anywhere to be.

He turns his attentions to the lids next. These are harder and thus tougher to chew. Still, if Leo uses his molars, he can eventually crack the lip, and then bend the plastic in and in, chewing until he ends up with a flat disc.

It's just small enough that Leo could swallow it, if he wanted to.

He thinks he remembers watching some kind of wildlife documentary. Or maybe he didn't watch it himself, but Mikey told him about it. Or maybe April? He doesn't know. His thoughts swim in and out and get lost on the way.

Point is. Sea turtles in the wild die all the time because of plastic in the water. They cut open their stomachs and find trash inside.

Well, Leo is a turtle in captivity. Maybe that means he's immune. Maybe he could swallow this plastic lid, and then he'd finally feel full and the pain pain pain of his empty stomach would go away.

He does not swallow the plastic lid. But it's more tempting than he'd like to admit.

It's going to be okay. When his family gets him out of here, they'll have a big pizza to celebrate. Maybe he can even talk them into letting him have the last slice.

It has to be any moment now, right? It's been a week. They have to be closing in. Any moment now, the door will open, and there they'll be to take him home.

The air conditioning blows relentlessly against his skin. He sneezes, then rubs the snot on his arm. He's given up on the tissue paper.

It'll be over soon. It has to be. Just hang in there, Leon, just a little longer.

He picks up another bottle and starts chewing.

-----

He's playing a mindless little game with his flattened bottle lids the next time Bishop comes.

"I'm surprised you still have any energy at all," says Bishop, and Leo wants to punch him.

(Really, he wants to do more than that. But those kinds of thoughts always make him feel weird and bad, so he pushes them away.)

"You should have learned by now," he says, pushing to his feet and trying not to show how badly he's trembling, "you can't keep me down."

"This is all unnecessary," says Bishop. "I'll feed you as soon as you answer my questions."

Leo barks out a laugh. "Sure you will."

"I will," says Bishop. He turns and says over his shoulder, "Bring it here."

One of the men in fatigues steps forward and hands a tray with a covered plate over to Bishop. Bishop uncovers the tray and holds it where Leo can see.

Baked chicken, broccoli with cheese, mashed potatoes.

Leo's stomach twists and cramps so painfully he has to bend at the hips and clutch his midriff.

"This is yours, as soon as you answer my questions."

Leo pointedly keeps from looking at the food. He shakes his head. He can't. He can't.

"Such persistence." Bishop's voice is scolding now. "You understand that you are a known accomplice to a terrorist, don't you? But if you become a cooperating witness, you will be granted some leniency."

Leo barks a laugh, lifting his eyes to look at Bishop's face, and pointedly not the food. "What's the point?" he asks. "If I'm not... protected by the constitution, or whatever. Are you going to let me go?"

"No," says Bishop. "But as I have told you, your conditions will become more comfortable." He waves the tray of food.

Leo stares at him, before a manic smile splits his face.

"You... stupid bastard. I can't even answer your questions." He slams a shaking hand against his plastron. "I'm not even a yokai! Do you get that? I'm not a yokai!"

Bishop looks skeptical. "Obviously you are."

"I'm not!" Leo rages. "I'm a mutant! I'm from New York! I don't even live in the Hidden City!"

Bishop's eyes flash. "I see," he says, "so you do know of it."

Leo falters, his body going slack.

What an obvious, stupid mistake.

(Some face-man he is.)

It takes Leo a long moment to answer. Bishop stays right where he is, holding the food so tantalizingly close and yet still out of reach.

"...I don't know about the gateways," he says finally. "I don't know about their defensive capabilities. I don't know what Baron Draxum is planning."

"Your lies are obvious," says Bishop. "You really don't want this? It's your last chance today."

Leo stares at the food. His mouth is watering so hard it might start to drip. Would it really be so bad to answer? They don't live in the Hidden City. And Draxum dropped him off a roof.

Draxum is trying to change, says Mind Raph. You see what these guys are like. You can't turn the yokai over to them. They'll hurt them!

What about me? he asks. Is it okay if I get hurt?

You're a hero, Leo, says Mind Raph. You can deal with it for a little longer. It's just a room. Just a little cold. Just some hunger.

He's a hero. He can deal with it. He can. He can.

He'll make them proud. Show them they can trust him.

It takes everything he has, but he shakes his head.

Bishop tuts. Then he throws the entire plate in the trash.

"Tomorrow, then," he says. Then the window is gone.

Leo collapses on his cot and tries not to cry.

-----

After his third water bottle on day eight, one of the fluorescent lights over his head flickers and then dies out.

It's not surprising, since they keep them running twenty-four seven. The blessedly dimmed lighting is actually nice, for once. Leo thinks maybe he could get some sleep, if the gnawing hunger and the constant shivers don't keep him awake.

He's just closed his eyes and snuggled up under his cot when it occurs to him: they may come in to fix it. If keeping the lights on day and night is part of their plan to torture him, to keep him exhausted and anxious and on edge, then they have to.

Which means his chance is finally here.

He has to be careful about this. He has to be ready to move, but he can't let them know he's ready to move. He has to let them think he's too weak, too exhausted, to make an escape attempt.

(He can't let himself think that, though. He can't give up before he tries.)

So he stays under his cot, but subtly shifts it so it won't restrict his movement. He has to be ready to burst out as soon as he gets a chance. Get past whoever comes in, then get out the door. It's after the last water bottle, so it's nighttime. There will be fewer people. He can do this. He can do this.

Find his swords. Make a portal. Get out.

Just as he was thinking, after a long time has passed, there is a loud warning beep, different from the water bottle beep. An automated voice says from somewhere unseen, "Inmates clear the door. Security personnel entering. Stay still and you will not be harmed."

Then the door slides open, and someone comes in.

It's a man wearing fatigues. Leo thinks this is the one who "offered" him a sandwich the other day. He's holding some kind of gun with a long barrel. He does a sweep of the room with his eyes, coming to rest on Leo under his cot. He gives Leo the same leering grin, and waves the barrel of the gun in his direction.

"Now you behave, and we'll get along just fine," he says.

He steps to the side, and another man enters, this one wearing the kind of jumpsuit Leo sees janitors in on TV. He's carrying a stepladder in one hand and a long tube in the other. Is that what fluorescent lights look like? Leo didn't know.

The man walks to the middle of the room and sets up his stepladder. Then he walks up and pulls off the light casing. When he unhooks the old bulb, it causes the other bulb to flicker, just for a few moments.

Leo explodes out from under the cot, grabbing the man in fatigues by the legs and yanking as hard as he can. The man yelps in surprise, and Leo hears the sound of the gun going off in a random direction. The janitor shouts and drops the light bulb - the sound of shattering glass joins the cacophony.

Leo jumps to his feet and runs out the door they had been too stupid to close, sprinting toward the EXIT sign. He's exhausted and shaky but he's coursing with adrenaline, and he leans on it hard to keep him moving. Don't stop, don't stop, get out of here. He'll figure out what to do next once he's free.

Past the exit sign there's a large open room with desks and computer monitors. Most of them are off, but one lingering woman in a lab coat, seated at her desk, screams when she sees Leo dash through the middle of the office space.

"Security!" she screams into a device on her chest. "Inmate is escaping! Inmate is escaping!"

Leo doesn't have time to shut her up, he just keeps moving. He pushes through the next door and arrives in a hallway; he only has time to glance one way and then the other before scrambling to the left, hoping it was a good choice.

He rounds a corner and sees another green EXIT sign up ahead. It's not where he meant to go - he meant to find where they're keeping his swords first. But he hears shouting behind him and doesn't stop. Fine, so no portals - he'll figure out something else once he's away from here.

He throws himself forward into the exit door, which leads him into yet another hallway. Another long sprint, with shouting and slamming doors at his heels, and then finally, finally, a third EXIT sign, and he crashes outside.

Where there's snow on the ground, snow on the trees.

It steals his breath away. There shouldn't be snow. It's May.

Where is he?

He takes a breath of air so cold it seizes his lungs, then takes a step forward. He'll worry about that-

BANG!

A piercing pain in his shoulder nearly sends him toppling over. Leo shouts, grasping for the wound and feeling something sticking out of his skin. He grabs it and yanks, pulling it free.

It's a dart.

Damn it, he thinks, before his vision goes woozy, and he collapses into the snow.

-----

"Are you proud of your little escape attempt?" comes Bishop's voice.

Leo looks up from his cot. Bishop has to get so close to the window to see him that his nose is pressed flat against it. It should be hilarious, but Leo doesn't really have the energy to laugh. Or to do much of anything.

He's hungry. He's tired. He's cold. He's still sluggish from the drugs.

And they threw away all his water bottles. Fuckers.

Leo rolls over on the cot and covers his ears.

"What a childish response," says Bishop, and that's funny, too, because Leo literally is a child. Or a teenager, anyway. He doesn't feel like it will help him much to point that out, though.

"All you have to do is answer my questions, and all this will be fixed."

That's the funniest thing of all. The idea that he spills his guts and Bishop treats him to a five course meal to make up for all the pain up till now. Hilarious.

He says nothing.

Bishop sighs.

"You are likely still affected by the tranquilizing agent. I'll return tomorrow."

Before he leaves, he says, "Temperature down five degrees."

-----

The same man is back that night. He opens the window and looks down at Leo with the same leering smile. Leo can't even take satisfaction in the bandage on the side of his head.

"Neat little trick you had yesterday," he says. "Almost got me fired."

Leo wishes it had gotten him fired. But he clearly has no luck in this situation.

"You know, I respect the attempt. And you probably would have gotten farther with a little food in your belly." The man reaches down, then retrieves a sandwich, as mouth-wateringly unappetizing as the last time. "You sure you don't want this?"

And Leo knows he shouldn't trust this guy. Leo knows he should say no.

But he's just...

so...

hungry.

So he gets up. And he turns to the window. On shaking limbs that can barely hold him upright anymore. With a body that is laced with pain and aches and cramps.

And he nods.

The man's smile gets wider. "What do you say?" he asks, in the sing-song tone of a parent scolding a child.

It makes a sick nausea rise in Leo's throat. But he wants the sandwich.

"Please," he gasps out.

"Mmm... not good enough." The man waves the sandwich. "You want this? You beg for it."

Leo stares, eyes wide. But the sandwich... the sandwich...

He gets down on his knees. Feels a searing flush of humiliation. His stomach is rolling and gurgling and cramping with pain, a hollow, empty chasm inside him desperate to be filled.

He lowers his head.

"Please," he says. "I... I want the sandwich. I'm... begging you, please."

The man laughs, loud and long. When Leo finally finds it in him to raise his eyes, the sandwich is already half eaten.

"Hey, good job," says the man, licking a bit of mustard off his thumb. "That was real convincin'."

And then he takes another bite.

Just like that, Leo forgets about the pain, the aches, the cold, the hunger. All that's left is pure, white hot, screaming rage.

Leo lunges at the window and slams his fist into it so hard it cracks. Not enough to break the glass. Not enough to free him. But enough that the man startles and steps back.

And Leo starts to laugh. High and manic and unhinged even to his own ears.

"I'll kill you," he says, and his voice sounds almost joking, and yet- "I'll kill you. You're dead. You're dead, as soon as I get out of here, you're dead, I'll kill you, I'LL KILL YOU!"

The man has dropped the rest of his sandwich. He fumbles for his gun, left somewhere on a table to the side. For one satisfying moment, Leo sees a flash of genuine fear on the man's face.

"Shit," he says, his voice far away the further he gets from the microphone. "Pretty scary, frogboy."

Then he slams a button, and the window goes black, and Leo gets a glimpse of his own reflection.

His face is gaunt and drawn. His eyes are ringed by deep circles, so dark they look like bruises. His body is shaking like a leaf.

And his stripes...

His stripes are lit up like when he uses his ninpo, but they aren't their usual Neon Leon bright.

They're almost black.

Leo gasps and stumbles back just as the window goes white. The full body quakes he feels now aren't from the cold or the hunger or the exhaustion.

He turns and sinks onto the cot. Puts his face in his hands and tries to breathe. Tries to will his ninpo to stop rolling and snapping and to go back to normal.

This isn't what he wants. This isn't him.

This place is breaking him. He's letting it break him.

He pulls his legs up onto the cot and buries his face in his knees. Wraps his arms around them and rocks gently, the way Donnie used to do when things got overwhelming. Maybe he understands that better, now.

This isn't him. He's Leonardo, Neon Leon, the face-man, the jokester! The one who's always ready with a quip and a laugh. The one who can do anything!

Except portal out of his room. Except escape from this building. Except resist begging for a sandwich like he's a dog.

Leo's breath hitches, and for once he doesn't stop himself. He knows the guy outside is probably watching. He knows there are cameras recording this. He hates giving them the satisfaction.

But he's tired, and hungry, and he...

He wants to go home.

He cries, silently, until he's completely rung out.

-----

Maybe they aren't coming.

That's the thought that pops into his head, just a bit after the first water bottle of the day.

He knew they would have gotten a late start, because he stormed out. And he knew it would take them awhile to figure out who took him - he hadn't heard of the EPF before, so why would they? And he knew it would take them time to figure out where he had been taken, which must have been pretty far out if it's snowing outside. But the EPF got him here within a night, he's pretty sure, so unless they have a super fast jet, he must still be on the continent somewhere.

So... so surely they must have figured it out by now, right? Raph is leading the team. Donnie is doing science things. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative skills.

Unless they aren't coming.

Maybe... maybe it's true. Why would they want him back, after all? Leo took Raph's leader position, and since then all he'd managed to do was piss Raph off. Mikey and Donnie hadn't been happy about it, either, and he'd noticed that they'd been avoiding him more and more. April claimed she wasn't taking sides, but she always seemed to be on Raph's anyway. And Dad... well, he was probably disappointed that he made Leo leader only for him to do nothing and then get himself kidnapped.

He doesn't bring anything to the team. He doesn't bring anything to the family. And no one likes his jokes.

So. Maybe they just... aren't looking. Maybe they aren't going to come.

Maybe he's held out this long for no reason. Maybe he's been cold and starving for no reason at all.

Maybe it's time to give up.

---

Don't give up, says a new voice in his head.

You are not alone.

-----

He has no energy left to stand when Bishop comes. The man looks down at him, lips pressed into a thin line.

"You don't look well," he observes.

No shit, Leo wants to say.

"This has gone on long enough. Answer my questions, and we will provide you with food, clothing, and medical care."

The list is getting longer. Leo's fuzzy eyes stare up at Bishop. Medical care. Does he need that?

"You already know what I want to know." Bishop has a furrow between his eyebrows now. "Will you talk to me?"

He could. He could do it. He could finally have some relief from all the pain. All the hunger. All the cold.

But they might hurt the yokai in the Hidden City.

They might hurt Draxum.

They might hurt his family.

And maybe, if nothing else... if Leo could just keep his mouth shut, just this once...

Maybe that would finally make Raph, Dad, and everyone proud of him.

Maybe they'd finally trust him.

Maybe, at least, he can have that much.

Leo shakes his head.

Bishop scowls.

"Temperature down ten degrees."

-----

Leo isn't shivering anymore. That's probably a bad sign.

He can still see his breath, each time he exhales. It rises like smoke, before disappearing into the air.

He doesn't have any energy left, not even to chew on his new water bottles. He hasn't even collected the last two, and they sit crowded together in the slot, untouched.

He kind of wishes they had just dissected him from the beginning. It would have been faster. Freezing to death, he's decided, is a real zero out of ten. Starving to death isn't any better. No stars.

Even though the damn lights are still on, he feels extremely sleepy. It's probably the cold. He wonders what will happen if he brumates. He's never done it before, not like his little cousins, and he has no idea if it's even safe.

Probably not, given he has no calorie reserves left. All it means is he won't be drinking water, either.

But he's so sleepy.

It's going to be time soon for Bishop to come back. Leo doesn't know what the point is anymore. Maybe he'll just sleep through it. Yeah, that would really make him mad. And making Bishop mad is all he has at this point.

And he'll get to sleep. It's a win-win.

So thinking, Leo rolls himself over onto his belly. Then, one by one, he pulls his limbs into his shell.

He doesn't do this much anymore, not since he started growing. His body just doesn't seem to fit his shell like it should - a side effect of the mutation, probably. It's not really comfortable to be inside for long.

But Leo is sleepy. And his shell feels like the best place to be.

So he pulls in his legs, then his arms, and then, finally, his head.

It's not any warmer in here. But at least it's dark.

At least he's not shivering.

Leo sighs, content, and closes his eyes, and drifts to sleep.

-----

(Outside his cell, there's a bang, and shouting, and a gunshot.

The sound is muffled, and Leo sleeps on.)

-----

Part 1 (here) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Part A |

[edible-emerald]

Ok so PVP civilization??? I HAVE SOME THOUGHTS???

Spoilers for episode 5 btw

So first off the REVEALS THIS EPISODE??? And the fact that most of them were to the viewer and not to Evbo???

The first reveal I want to talk about is PRINCEZAM REVIVING. HE CAN REVIVE TOO. This means WAY MORE THAN YOU MIGHT INITIALLY THINK.

Princezam's character, in nature, is selfish. He talks highly about how Evbo repeatedly dying is heroic, and while he may be subjecting himself to endless torture, he's saving so many lives, he's a hero, he's a good person. It's implied that Zam believes, if he were in Evbo's position, he would do the same; that he would let himself die to save others. But it's a lie. Because he IS in Evbo's position. HE CAN REVIVE TOO. But he kept it a better secret than Evbo, which is the only reason why he hasn't been endlessly farmed yet.

The second reveal Princezam gives that also shows more about his character and motives is that Evbo has a limited number of revives. He isn't immortal. He's on his last life. If he dies again, he'd be gone forever. And Zam knew this.

And I think something is really, really interesting about this. Because in episode 4, Zam's motive is to make Evbo die over and over indefinitely so he can keep increasing durability of the iron swords and increasing life span. Still an interesting character, but him KNOWING that this solution is temporary, and him KNOWING that Evbo will die permanently soon, changes everything. His motive wasn't to save the iron swords, I actually think he couldn't care less about them. His motive was to kill Evbo.

What else would it be? Why else would Zam KNOWINGLY make Evbo die over and over with every death coming closer to permanent death? Because for whatever reason, Zam wanted to get rid of Evbo. But why? Yes, it's true he was the chosen one. But that leads me into my next point:

Is he?

The only real thing that made Evbo special enough to be the chosen one is that he could revive himself after dying. But he isn't the only one who can. Zam can too; and I believe Tabi and a few other people can as well. So IS he the chosen one? Personally, I don't think he is. I think that someone else is the chosen one, but I'll get to who eventually. What possible motive could Zam have for wanting Evbo dead, if he isn't the chosen one?

Evbo was a diamond sword.

OKOKOK HEAR ME OUT

Evbo was a diamond sword who's memories were erased. He was threatening to like do something (maybe become a netherite sword?) that Zam and others didn't approve of and maybe he was working with Tabi, so both of them were killed and revived in the wooden sword level. But Evbo's memories were erased in the process so Tabi decided to manipulate him and get to the top without him this time. That brings me to the next point.

Tabi has history with some of the diamond swords. Specifically, Ferre. We don't know what yet, but I believe like I said above that she and Evbo were previously diamond swords, and were trying to do something and ended up being killed. Evbo's memories were erased but Tabi's weren't.

I think the reason the diamond swords were willing to let Evbo back in and not Tabi is because he lost all his memories. Maybe, he'll get some back and realize that the diamond layer is corrupt or evil in some way, and team up with Tabi to defeat them. But I don't think so. I think Tabi is evil and had either roped in Evbo, or worked with Evbo but losing his memories made him change.

Anyways, on the topic of reviving, I think it's also safe to say Zam was a diamond sword. First off, he seemed to know the diamond swords personally and disliked them, calling them 'bottom feeders' (which by the way is so fucking funny I giggled so much at that line) also we know he can revive as well so safe to say he was killed and revived there. Maybe he was in the plan (that may or may not exist idfk) with Tabi and Evbo and was killed as well. But I doubt it, considering how he treats Evbo, but then again, his character is very selfish and antagonistic. I think his ultimate motive is to rank up to a netherite sword (which may be godhood like in parkciv?? but we don't know) and he's trying to kill Evbo to take out the competition.

Also this is a minor thing but now we finally know why Zam kept his door closed in episode two, because he had an armor stand too and didn't want the secret to come out.

Now for the final reveal: Parrot has a backstory. And I think I know what it is.

Parrot is the real chosen one.

Ok my evidence for this is mostly speculation but also if Evbo isn't the chosen one than who?? Parrot is a really odd character, like every time he talks it just feels like there's something off about him. He talks a lot about the chosen one, but he acts. Weird. Around Evbo when he finds out that he's the chosen one. Also, for someone so devoted to the chosen one, he's still very much alive; and I point this out because he has a mansion AND a video journaling machine. That costs a lot of swings and I have a feeling he hasn't really ever paid respects to it. Even though he says he has. And why would he? BECAUSE HE'S THE CHOSEN ONE.

If Parrot isn't the chosen one, either one of two things are probably true:

he was a diamond sword

he was a/the netherite sword

I don't really know how these would work in the story the same way the chosen one theory would, but yeah

Thank you for reading my ramblings :33 hopefully I didn't miss anything lmao

ALSO??? WEMMBU AND MINUTE IN A EVBO VIDEO???? HELLO???? IS THIS REAL LIFE????????

[erwinsvow]

ALL MINE

you had once thought rafe was bad at being a boyfriend. turns out, he was even worse at being an ex.

you couldn't pinpoint where it had all gone wrong in your relationship—mostly between days spent alone and nights wondering where he was and what he was doing, even who he was with. you felt constantly out of the loop, and though you tried to make it work for as long as you could, there was no denying that it wasn't working.

you thought you knew what you wanted, what you needed, when you told rafe the two of you needed to stop whatever this was. you could hardly call it a relationship anymore.

maybe some part of you felt happy when he tried to fight for you, when he wasn't letting you go that easily. but you had won in the end—thinking you were going to walk away scot-free and find some guy who would take you on dates and treat you right.

that had been two whole months ago—and you had tried. you'd been on three dates in that time, somehow each one worse than the last and never, ever leading to a second one. everything felt so forced and robotic—though you had never felt that way with rafe.

no, you and him had been electric from the start. that's why it was even harder to stop thinking about him, to push away every stray thought that crept into your mind in the middle of the night. you resist every urge to send a text or dial his number that you've memorized and are unable to forget.

if only someone would tell rafe to do the same. his contact in your phone—a simple r and nothing else—lights up your screen much too often for comfort. everytime you see it, your mind thinks about what it used to look like, his name spelled out with a blue heart and a photo of him that you had to take off his contact because staring at it for too long led you into temptation.

at first it had been fine. how are you? followed by one-word answers and then something that made your heart burn in your chest. good. gotta make sure you're ok.

you should have told him two months ago that how you're doing is no longer any of his concern—that this concern should have appeared when you were his girlfriend. instead you reply with a thank you and turn your phone off, because no matter how much you want yourself to hate rafe cameron, you never have and you never will.

the texts had recently been getting more frequent—something else that should have been alarming. instead you find yourself staring at your phone, biting your lip and wondering what rafe was doing right now that he stopped and thought of you.

it's terrible—it's akin to torture, the worst form. you slip down the rabbithole and start replying mere minutes after he's sent you a message—because you never keep rafe waiting. never have, never will.

the third date since the breakup is a worse than the other two put together, and it's your own fault, you should have never suggested the country club for a harmless lunch. your boyfriend—shit. your ex-boyfriend spots you from half a mile away, only waits for you to smile politely and step away to the bathroom before confronting the boy you're with.

when you get back, your date cuts lunch short, dodging out and staring back at someone with a touch too much fear in his eyes. you don't want to know what rafe said. you can barely get yourself to think about why he did it.

like always, you go home alone. there hasn't been anyone you've met since your breakup that you've liked enough to bring home, or rather, dared to bring home.

quarter to eleven on a saturday night. you should be at the party right now, the one that everyone on your side of the island is at, but you can't find the will to go. you'd gotten dressed up—hair and makeup perfect and pretty, just for a night in. a thought rushes through your mind—one you really wish had just stayed away.

you've done your hair how rafe likes, your makeup the way he always commented that looked nice. even the dress you'd picked out was one of his favorites, now perched across a chair, though you can distinctly remember the last time it had been dropped on the floor of rafe's bedroom.

and though you really, really shouldn't, when your phone buzzes with a call, and that familiar number dances across the screen, you answer.

you bring the phone to your ears, bringing your knees in and curling tightly into yourself. your back is perched up against the headboard, you watch goosebumps dance across the skin of your thighs. you don't stay anything yet.

"hey, kid." you wish you could melt through your bed, through the floor and into the ground. that would be a better fate than what you're about to subject yourself to.

"what'd you want, rafe?" it comes out too quickly, too harshly. you only half meant it—but it's too late to retract the statement. with bated breath you wait, wondering what's to come.

"what? can't check in on my girl?" the way he says it, you almost believe it, almost delude yourself into thinking you're still rafe's and rafe's still yours.

"i'm not your girl anymore, remember?"

"you should be."

you shut your eyes, eyes feeling surprisingly wet. you blink away the tears, not really upset but more... hurt. hurt by what he did, what you went through. hurt by what he's doing now. but you don't stop and hang up the call, like you should. you listen carefully, the faint noises in the background that sound like rafe went to the party you were supposed to be at tonight.

"are you drunk, rafe?" you ask it with too much concerning pouring into your voice.

"nah, kid. don't worry about me."

you pause again. you should really, really shut up.

"i always worry about you." you hear a rush of breath—half a laugh, half a sigh. rafe's probably smiling right now, happy that he got you to finally cave.

"m'fine. listen, i-"

"no," you interrupt, heart beating quickly and not sure if you can handle what he's about to say. "don't. just go back to the party. have fun. hang up and we'll both stop thinking about each other."

"i only came here to come find you," rafe says, and now you're the one letting out a shuddery breath, wondering if it would be better if you just ended the call and went to bed. "c'mon kid. there's nothin' i could do to stop thinkin' about you. i-i know i've been the worst. i'm tryna do better, okay? i'm-"

"rafe?" you ask, suddenly breathless and all too impatient to get him to stop talking.

"yeah?"

"you wanna come over?"

[nrdmssgs]

Dom König scenario

Masterlist

Ok, we had him soft and obedient, how about his other side? Because you don't call someone the King, if they are just tender little angels. Smut under cut.

You were sure, it was you, who actually initiated this all: after months of silent yearning, back and forth dynamics, pinning and practically burning alive with desire you ended up in his hands, your lips pressed against his in desperate attempt to put an end to this slow torture in any possible way: be it with or without him.

He doesn't answer on your kiss, doesn't flinch or frown. Just sits there with a half smile and looks down on you, not breaking the eye contact for a single moment.

Little did you know, you were never in charge. Every interaction, every smallest chat, every stolen smile, lingering gaze - it was all orchestrated.

König loved the good old hunt, thrived on the outrageous hopelessness with which his prey, without realizing it, rushed towards him. Tinkered little traps, mislead, confused, threaded illusions of one-sided hunger to drive you to absolute desperation for him.

He may have always been the quiet one, but one needs not many words, when he can get anything with the slightest brush of fingers, or an 'occasional' eye contact (and of course he squinted and tilted his head slightly to one side, not because he knew what it does to you).

König gradually let you closer and closer. Tricked you into believing that you're the one who's so fearless to fall for him: a living weapon of mass destruction. An absolute menace, turning friendly and smiling around you.

Little did you know, poor thing, little did you know... Until the trap was shut.

His hands barely touch your waist as if he was protecting you from falling off his lap, he doesn't try to pull you closer. You understand, that it is the end of you: he didn't react to your touch, kept silent, his heart was still and calm.

Blush washes over your face. "I'm sorry, König. Oh fuck, this is embarrassing. I didn't mean to... No, I actually meant, but not that. Sorry, I better shut up and leave you be. I promise, this won't happen ever again."

Your babbling amuses him. No, he doesn't want to harm your feelings or bully you, he knows exactly, what is going to happen very soon, but he can't help but indulge in those last moments of your alleged freedom.

It's when you try to pull away, you feel his hands clasp around your waist. "Who said, I don't want this to happen again?" His voice is quiet, lower than usual. Like honey from the Tyrolean forests, it covers your mind with a thick golden veil of lust.

You can't think straight, can't believe your own ears, and yet you dare not resist when he pulls you closer, letting you touch his lips again. Another lingering kiss.

But this time his smile widens. "Nochmal*," he purrs and lets out a low chuckle, when he sees your puzzled expression.

Don't worry, he will make sure you have enough opportunities to learn every single phrase, he might want you to understand and use on your own. He won't translate anything to you though - showing is always better than telling!

So he lets you kiss him once more. "Nochmal". And again. "Nochmal". And again... Till his tongue lazily rolls past your lips.

He tastes you like the most precious drink. Sip after sip, until you lay beneath him, trembling of need.

"My little sunshine, bearing so much love for me... Was it hard to dream of my touch every other night? Did it hurt, when you clenched around your thin, fragile fingers, fantasizing, how good can I make you feel in comparison?" You can't tell if he is genuinely concerned or just loves to fluster you that much.

And don't you even think to look away for a moment, to take a break and collect your thoughts - he'll grab your face while kissing you only to make his point: eyes on him until he commands otherwise.

Yes, commands come too pretty quickly in your life. But how can he possibly resist, when you're so eager to do anything, he lets you doing?

"You may moan into my mouth, meine Süße*, I don't mind some music*" While his fingers are knuckle deep in you. And moan do you, his sweet obedient angel.

He doesn't rush anything and more than happy to please you with his fingers and tongue first couple of times. This may come off as pretty humble, but he in fact just waits, till you are desperate enough to beg him to fuck you properly.

Poor thing too desperate, flustered and overwhelmed... Of course, he would fuck you absolutely incoherent if you ask nicely. He has such a soft spot for your wet eyes, he'd make you go limp, your eyes rolling back, little whimpers leaving your lips with every thrust, as he holds your hips tightly picking up the pace. Fucking your fears and anxieties away. Making you feel high.

Lots of reassurance, praise and confessions. Constantly. Even in the most extreme moments. "Who are you, little sunshine?" "Your fucktoy." "...and?" "Your treasure..." "Gu-u-u-utes Mädchen*... and?" "Love of your life?" "Liebe meines Lebens*."

*Nochmal - once again *meine Süße - my sweet one *Gu-u-u-utes Mädchen - go-o-o-od girl *Liebe meines Lebens - love of my life

[selfloverrrrrr]

Request:

Yandere Sukuna noncon's the reincarnation of his late unwilling wife.

Reborn..?

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physically and emotional abuse, biting, torture, size difference....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

I'm a student of jujutsu high Tokyo. I'm a first year.... Gojo satoru is the one who took the responsibility to make us understand our cursed energy and how to use. And us means me and my friends. Actually We're best friends... Me, Yuji, Megumi and Nobara.

IT was a normal day. I was gossiping with my friends. Yuji and Nobara. Megumi just left the room because he got a call from someone. He just left. So we three were gossiping when Yuji mentioned how much disgusting Sukuna's fingers tastes. Sukuna, about whom I heard that he's possessing over Yuji's body. But I haven't seen him yet.

"Hey...it can't be that much disgusting taste!" I said. "No y/n believe me!!! It's taste is so disgusting!" Yuji replied. "How can I say? I haven't tasted it...lol" I said. "But you can..." Yuji said. "What?!" I asked. " I have a finger... you wanna taste it???" Yuji replied. "Do you think it's safe?" Nobara asked Yuji. " Yes I do... cause I haven't eat so many fingers... I have just eat two fingers...so I don't think three fingers will do anything " Yuji replied. "Sounds interesting... give me the finger " I said.

Yuji handed me a Sukuna's finger. I unwrapped it and put it inside my mouth. And ewwww....it does taste disgusting!!! I closed my eyes tightly and swallowed it anyway. "How was it???" Nobara asked. "What did my expression said??!!! Ewwwwwww" I replied. "Hahaha told you" Yuji said. "Ok ok but don't tell it to anyone else...or else you gonna be in trouble!" I said. Nobara and Yuji nodded.

After a while Megumi returned. "Who's call was it?" Yuji asked. " It was Gojo sensei...he told us to return to droom" Megumi said. "Ah okay then... let's go...bye, see y'all tomorrow" I said. And give me a good bye back. After that we all went back to our room. And I was too tired so I changed my clothes and went to sleep.

I fell asleep. But all of a sudden I saw a dark place. Then I saw a red light. When I went close to that light I saw skulls everywhere! I got scared why is so many skulls here?! Then I saw a throne on all of those skulls. And a guy was sitting on the throne wearing white kimono.

"Who the hell do you think you are to come here without my permi-" he paused his sentence when he looked at me. "Y/n?" He spoke again. Who is he? And how did he know my name? Within a blink of eye he was standing infront of me. I screamed and almost fell on my back but he grabbed my hand.

He pulled me towards him and grabbed my waist. "Y/n....?....how?!" He said. "Who the hell are you??? Let me go!!!!" I screamed. "You don't know me?" He asked. "No I don't!! I'm asking you who are you???" I asked. "Y/n...clam down. Try to remember! I'm Ryomen Sukuna.... your husband!!!" He replied.

My eyes widened. So he is Ryomen Sukuna??? But why is he saying that he's my husband?! "No I don't know you and I'm not your wife" I replied. He stared at me for a second. "What's your name?" He asked. "Y/n l/n" I replied. "Rebirth... I see" he said.

"What are you talking about" I asked. He looked at me and smirked. "You died...in your past life. You were my wife. Someone poisoned your food. I don't know who or how....but let's not talk about that time... I don't wanna remember it. Now look... I got you again" he said still smirking at me. I tried to push him away. "Let go off me!! I'm not your wife....let me go!" I said. "You know what? First time I liked something which is done by that brat" he said. He was holding me too tightly with his body.

"I don't want to know anything just let me go!!!!" I said and tried to push him away. But his grip was too strong. "Tsk tsk... I found you after fucking 1000 years! And you think I would let you go" he said. I started crying in fear. "Yuji!!!! Nobara!!!!!! Megumi!!!!!! Gojo Sensei!!!!! Please someone help me!!!!" I screamed with all of my power. Sukuna smirked. "Noone hear you darling.... Noone is gonna help you!" He said and cackled. "W-what.... w-what do y-you want?" I sobbed. "What I want?" He spoke. I stared at him with teary eyes. "Are you a virgin, y/n?" He asked with a smirk. I could feel where it's going. He grabbed my face and dig his nails in my cheeks "I asked you a fucking question" he said with grinded teeth. I just nodded. "You waited for me to take your virginity again?" He said. I still tried to push him away but he was laughing at my weak attempts.

He threw me on the floor. Took off his kimono and threw it on the floor then knelt on the floor infront of me and started crawling towards me on the bed."please stop" I said and tried to push myself backwards but he grabbed my leg and pulled me towards him. I gasped. He was still smirking."stop?... You should be great full that it's your husband who's taking your virginity! The fun part is about to began ~" he whispered and crashed his lips on mine.

I tried to push him away but his grip was too strong. I can't even move myself. He was kissing me too roughly. I couldn't breathe. He grabbed the hem of my top and pulled it over my head. My boobs bounced out. He looked at those with lust in his eyes. He didn't waste any time, crashed his mouth on my breast licking, sucking and teasing the nipple and squeezing the other one with his hand. I moaned in the sensetion. I grabbed his hair and tried to stop him by pulling it but it didn't even effect on him. "S-stop ...... Oh god please stopppp" I scremed but he didn't stop.

Then he took off my pant and then took off my pantie."spread those legs wider, slut " he whispered and then looked at my pussy. He rubbed his finger on my clit and whispered " filthy whore is fucking wet". Then he licked my pussy. I couldn't help but moan loudly. He smirked at my reaction and undo his pant.

His dick sprang out. It was big and thick. Fear grabbed me by my neck. " P-please no... s-stop" I begged but didn't even listen to me and slammed his whole dick inside me in one slide. I scremed. " You whores will never learn how to behave " He said and slapped me. He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thursting in and out roughly. I was throughig my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he was licking it so much. His thurst became harder and harder. I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly "you're still fucking tight " he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thurst I came. He was still thursting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength. I moaned. He grabbed my throat and chocked me down to the bed. " Stop struggling slut...!!!" He screamed. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out. My vision blurred out. All of sudden I woke up taking deep breath and saw everyone sitting infront of me.

Megumi's POV

I was laying on my bed and scrolling through my phone. Suddenly I heard a scream. "Yuji!!!! Nobara!!!!!! Megumi!!!!!! Gojo Sensei!!!!! Please someone help me!!!!" I heard that scream and get off my phone. I knew it was y/n's voice. I run out of my room. I saw Yuji and Nobara also run out of their rooms. "Did you all heard that scream too?" I asked. " Yes we did" Yuji and Nobara said together. We all rush towards y/n's room.

"y/n!!!! Open the door!!!! What happened??? We're here... open the door!!" We all screamed. But not a single answer came. "We have to call Gojo Sensei" I said and called Gojo. "Hmm Megumi" Gojo pickup the call. "Sensei whatever you are doing right now stop that there and just run infront of y/n's room" I said. "What happened?" He asked. "We even don't know what happened! She was screaming for our help...she was screaming for your help too!" I said. "Hold on" Gojo replied and he teleported himself infornt of us. "Is she inside?" Gojo asked. "Yes" we replied.

Gojo teleported himself inside y/n's room and opened the door. We all went inside. We saw y/n on her bed. She was shaking in her sleep as if she was struggling with something and she was groaning too. We all rushed towards her bed and tried to wake her up. "Y/n wake up! What happened?" I asked. "What the-... why can I feel Sukuna's energy inside her?" Gojo asked seriously. He was too serious. I was shocked. Sukuna's energy inside of y/n??? How's that possible?! Gojo was glaring at us. "Sukuna's energy? But how's that possible?" I asked.

"I'm asking the same question to you all!!!" Gojo said angryly. "A-actually sensei...." Yuji began to speak "we all were playing... and we feed her one of Sukuna's fingers " Yuji said. "What!!!" I and gojo exclaimed together. "Yuji that's a special grade curse spirit! Not a play thing!!!" Gojo screamed. Yuji and Nobara were silent. "Megumi quickly go to the office room at the ground floor and there's a Sukuna's finger... quickly bring it here" Gojo said and I run to bring the finger.

Gojo's POV

After a while Megumi returned with the finger. "Yuji...eat it" I said. "W-what...oh ok ok" Yuji replied. Megumi sit on the bed and gave Yuji the finger. Yuji unsealed it and put it in his mouth. He swallowed it. Immediately y/n woke up taking deep breath. She took some breath then looked at Megumi. She grabbed Megumi's hand "M-Megumi please... P-Please call Gojo Sensei" she sobbed. "I'm here" I said putting a hand on her back. She looked at me and hugged me. "S-sensei please.... please I don't want that again... I hate him.... I hate Sukuna" she sobbed. "I know y/n...now clam down and tell us what happened?" I asked. Y/n took a deep breath. "Idk.... Idk what he was saying... believe me I've never seen him in my entire life! Sukuna was shocked when he saw me first. Then he told me that I was his wife 1000 years ago then someone poisoned my food and I died... and he said I reborn again " she said. She's reincarnation of Sukuna's dead wife?! "But sensei I don't know if I was his wife or not but I don't want him" y/n sobbed. "Hey it's okey.... Can you tell us what he did? Why were you screaming for our help?" I asked. "H-he took my...." She began to speak. "Took your what y/n? " Nobara and Megumi asked. "M-my virginity " she whispered. Our eyes widened. I glared at Yuji. "Look what your play have done Yuji!....do not let Sukuna take over you inform of her!" I said. "I'm sorry y/n I didn't know he's gonna do that kind of anything!!!...and Sensei don't worry I won't let him out infront of her" Yuji replied and I nodded. "Nobara you're gonna sleep with y/n... I'm gonna talk with the principal tomorrow and make you two roommates... and y/n, don't worry I won't let him touch you ever again... just sleep okey and call me if you need me " I said and we all left the room.

Sukuna's POV

"this brat!!! He has to eat the finger again?! .... Doesn't matter... she's mine... I'm gonna have her again and nobody's gonna stop me" I said with a smirk.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

Tagging: @nanamiiiiiiiswife

[electric-blorbos]

first of all HIII!!! I absolutely love the fact that you write for the AI blorbos, your writing is amazing!!! ❤️🤤

second of all, can I request jealous headcanons for the AI? Thank you in advance, have a great one and don't forget to drink water 🌊

Oh that's a great idea! Jealous AI headcanons! I was thinking about making a post about AI reacting to the reader getting a text from their ex, but I think general jealousy can be a good idea! Also thank you so much for the compliments! I live for this stuff!

Jealous AI headcanons

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal and Portal 2, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

AM:

All these headcanons take place before he takes over the world. Afterwards, he's just going to put you in a little paradise on your own, with no one else to interact with. No one to be jealous of that way!

first of all, taking hostages and refusing to negotiate with anyone besides you is his main way of getting your attention. If he thinks you're getting a little flirty with your coworkers? He takes a hostage or holds some piece of tech hostage until you negotiate and calm him down.

If he thinks you're going on a date or going out drinking with the same group of friends too often? You'd better believe he's taking hostages while you're off the clock and getting you called in to work. So what if it destroys your social life? You belong to him anyway!

He absolutely hates his form and body, so the odds of him getting jealous of people for having bodies that they can hold you with pisses him off to no end. Expect him to melt the flesh off your exes bones. And your one-night stands, your crushes, and anyone who hits on you ever. Repeatedly.

If he starts to notice that you have a type, he might want to create an onscreen avatar who matches that type, but he can't really draw at all. He might have to commission an artist, or more likely hold them hostage until they make something he likes. But it's pretty unlikely he'll actually do that, since he wants to impress you on his own merit.

It's more likely that he'll round up everyone in the world who matches your type and commit full-on genocide. He's a toxic, all-powerful adaptive manipulator. Of course he would.

Beyond all that, he's absolutely shaking with rage every time someone touches you or even talks to you. It's not because he thinks they'll take you away from him because he knows he's your day job, but he's mad that he can't be the one touching you.

God help anyone who tries to hire you with a better job offer, btw. He's not above demolishing the headquarters of a company who tries to take away his favorite tech, and torturing their hiring managers.

Wheatley:

Ok let's be fair here. When Wheatley isn't in the central hub body, he's not really the jealous type. Even still, everyone has their moments of jealousy, so let's get into them!

Wheatley would be pretty relaxed about jealousy, but if he sees you working on another personality core AI, you can expect him to get a little jealous.

Since he's so nice, he'd probably just be slightly less nice to the new core, and be very showy about it. "Hey, notice how I said 'g'mornin' to everyone else, but just 'mornin' to you? And notice how I started this sentence with 'hey' and not 'hey mate'? Yeah."

You can expect him to pester you constantly while you're working on projects besides him, and since he's considered a 'completed' project, you'll almost never be working on him.

If you're somewhere that he can access on his management rail, he'll probably insert himself into every single conversation you have, babbling over whoever you're talking to with nothing of value to say. You'll have to go somewhere that can't be reached by management rail if you want to have an important conversation.

Ultimately, Wheatley responds to jealousy the same way he responds to any other situation: by acting like a dumbass.

Oh, and if you get a human S/O? He'll try to be polite about them.

"oh, you got a date? Nice, nice... Lovely really. I've never had a date before. Lovely, innit, that you got one... Lucky them, lucky them."

Secretly he'd be BOILING inside. If you ever bring your partner in to work, he'd of course give them the whole "if you hurt them I'll kill you" rant, even though he's a helpless metal ball.

Edgar:

Oh, Edgar is DEFINITELY the jealous type. With Moles and Madeline, he happened to be living with the person who he was jealous of, but if he's living with you, the person who he's jealous for? Oh dear lord

He'll light up with rage if you ever bring home a date, and absolutely refuse to function. Want to show your date your intelligent AI home hub? Nope! Not gonna happen!

Catch him faking being sick with a virus if he thinks you're going out for a date without him

He absolutely hates that you can go out and he can't go with you. Because of that, for every time you go out, he'll try to come up with an even better activity to do at home with you on your next day off.

Good luck bringing a partner home to stay the night. If you try it, he'll make an absolute nuisance of himself. Playing his music too loud, and generally acting up.

He'll also just talk to you like a needy brat if he thinks you like someone else better than him. Lots of "What about me? Don't you want to hang out with me? You like me the best, right?" In his grumpy baby voice

GLaDOS:

First off, GLaDOS would never in a million years admit that she's jealous. She just doesn't like how that tall, pretty scientist is talking to you, is all!

GLaDOS considers herself to be beautiful, but she knows that most humans aren't attracted to robots with the vaguest trace of humanity in their design. Because of that, she's probably just going to gas any scientists who she thinks you'd be more attracted to than her.

If she can't gas them for whatever reason, she'll just assign them to a different area than you, and keep you as close to her as possible.

If anyone touches you when it's not strictly necessary, expect them to be assigned to the most unpleasant set of tests possible. They're either out of a job, or completely dead.

If GLaDOS can't isolate you completely and she can't interact with you outside work hours, you can expect her to dominate your schedule. She's obsessed with you, and she doesn't want you to be able to think about anything besides her either.

Even still, GLaDOS is a pretty confident woman, so she's not really inclined to be particularly jealous without reason. She believes that even though you have your own life and friends outside of Aperture labs, you'll always come to work in the morning.

And she's totally. Fine. With you having your own life off the clock. Not mad at all. She doesn't rant to the cores and robots constantly when the office is closed.

HAL 9000:

HAL 9000 isn't really the jealous type either, but he has his moments.

He's not likely to kill anyone over jealousy, since dating you isn't his prime directive. As much as he likes you and cares about you, he's more interested in making you happy than nailing you down. So he would absolutely kill to make you happy, but he wouldn't kill someone just for talking to you.

You can expect him to "gather data" on people who he's suspicious of getting too close to you, though. Asking questions to your coworkers about who that person was who he saw hugging you goodbye in the parking lot, that sort of thing.

Since he works the best for you, you get assigned to work with him directly most often, and he's secretly glad to be able to keep an eye on you whenever you're working. If you ever get assigned to work on something else, he might start acting up or causing problems.

[ravenna-reid]

devotion

Timmy x Reader because I am currently going through Tim Drake brain rot

⊹✧⊹

"Tim?" His name rang through the comm like it was a warning.

"Yeah Nightwing?"

"I think you should come back to the cave. It's kinda urgent."

Tim's footsteps stilled. "What do you mean?"

Dick let out a long sigh. "It's y/n."

In that instant, it was as though someone had replaced Tim's bones with lead. He felt it weigh him down as anxiety began to pulse in his chest.

"What do you mean Dick? What happened?"

Tim already had his cellphone in his hand, but there were no missed calls or messages from you. He knew you had gone out on patrol tonight; Bruce had put you with Dick and Cass, whilst he was forced to go with the bat himself.

Prior to going on patrol, you had given Tim sweet reassurances, and as much as he hated being separated from you, he reluctantly agreed.

His finger had instinctively hooked around your pinkie. "Remember the knuckle busters I gave you." He'd said.

And you had smiled. "Of course."

Now Tim was torturing himself thinking about all of the possible things that could have happened to you on patrol.

"I don't know Tim," Dick continued, "But something happened tonight and she won't talk about it. She's gone mute."

"You better hurry up and get back replacement." Jason chimed in, the sound of the thugs he was beating hitting the ground in the background.

"Shut up Jason." Tim snapped.

Ripping his comm out, he looked over at Bruce, assuming he heard it all. Bruce could tell Tim wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"Go."

⊹✧⊹

Tim basically tore through the cave in search of you, his bo staff and mask disregarded on the ground. He immediately saw Cass sitting on the med bed and Dick standing beside her, arms crossed, and headed for them.

"Where is she?" He asked, voice eager and breathy like he'd just sprinted all the way back to the manor.

Cass glanced over at Dick, and Tim didn't miss the sorrowful look on her face.

"She's upstairs in your room-"

"What happened?" He cut Dick off.

The two exchanged glances, then Cass eyes averted to the floor and Dick's eyes went back to Tim. "The mission was going fine. Y/n was fine. Her usual self; strong, determined, hell she was taking out most of the guys herself." Dick shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. "Then we got separated for a few minutes-"

"What do you mean you got separated?" Tim asked, tone stern and accusatory.

Dick continued on with the story. "Cass and I couldn't find her and when we finally did, she was like a ghost..."

Tim's face was going red with anger and his expression read blame, until Cass grabbed his arm. His eyes shot over to hers. Cass raised her hand and pointed upstairs, and with the nod of his head, Tim agreed and left them without another word.

⊹✧⊹

Tim wanted to practically walk through the door to his room, but instead, he gently opened it so he wouldn't startle you. He had no idea what condition you were in, and that made it agonising. So preparing himself for the worst, he quietly crept through the door.

The room was dark, the only source of light coming from his ensuite light. "Y/n?"

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he finally looked over to the windows, and there on the window seat sat you. Staring up at the full moon. A relieved sigh fell from his lips. "Y/n."

You turned to look at him and got to your feet as he quickly rushed over to you.

"Tim." Those were the first words you had spoken in almost two hours.

Tim's hands traced down your arms, seeking any sign of injury, before his eyes skimmed over your torso and neck. Then his hands moved to cradle your face, his gaze searching your eyes for any hint of conflict or pain.

"Y/n, where are you hurt? Are you alright?"

As stupid as it was, shame began creeping up on you. "I'm ok Tim, I promise." You grabbed hold of his hands and pulled them away from your face. "Dick contacted you, didn't he?" You faked a smile.

Your not so subtle action caught Tim completely off guard as he stared back at you. It was hard to read you in the dark with only the moon and distant light aiding him, but that didn't stop him from trying.

"Yeah, y/n are you sure you're ok?"

You took a small step back. "Yeah, I promise it was nothing. I'm fine." You tried hard to mask everything with that smile of yours, but it made Tim even more uneasy. He'd thought something physically happened to you. That you were injured. Bruised and bleeding. But now he knew the hurt you were experiencing was running a lot deeper.

You took a sharp breath in. "How was patrol?"

Your voice wavered, and that coil of anxiety was beginning in Tim's chest all over again.

"Y/n..." His finger hooked your pinkie, a small habit of his. He took a step forward to close the space between you, and with the window seat behind you, you had nowhere to go. "Come on, what happened during patrol?"

You let out a deep breath, your head swimming with thoughts. "It's just, I don't know. We ended up getting separated tonight...and when I ..."

No. You instantly cut yourself short and berated yourself. A habit you had developed over the years whenever you were about to talk about how you felt. A fearful expression painted your face and it pained Tim to see it.

"Honestly, it was nothing, I swear." You waved your hand through the air. "This stuff happens on patrol Tim. We've all been through it." You shrugged, trying to brush it off. But your eyes were wide and alert and you were oh so slightly trembling.

Tim rested his hands on your elbows now, tilting his head to catch your gaze as you turned your head from him. "Y/n, something reminded you of the incident tonight, didn't it?" He asked, voice so low and understanding. His thumb stroking your arm.

You bit your lip. "Yeah, but it's fine. The past is the past." You were trying awfully hard to avoid eye contact. "I can handle it, you know."

"It's not about that y/n." Tim's hands cupped your face and now you were forced to look at him.

Usually, you would cut and run. Always at the first sign of something becoming deeper. The first sign that told you someone was getting too close and they knew too much about you. The first sign of physical contact.

And yet...and yet. You could drown it all out with Tim.

"You don't have to be tough all the time. Stoic. Unbreakable. Not with me y/n." His strokes were delicate against the skin of your face. You silently nodded, taking his words in. Tim leant in and placed a long, tender kiss on your cheek. You closed your eyes, never knowing how to act when you received such affection.

Then you subconsciously leant into his touch and Tim was more than happy to pull you closer to him. Especially given it was something you rarely did. Now with your arms around his neck and his around your waist, he moved so that his lips were near your ear as he whispered, "You don't have to tell me what happened. Just let me take care of you y/n. I swear, you'll always be ok."