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jjkeremika · 6 months

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AoT men in your class hit on you

description: you’re in classes with the men from attack on titan; they try to flirt with you.

pairing: reiner x reader, armin x reader, connie x reader, jean x reader, eren x reader, levi x reader, erwin x reader, zeke x reader, galliard x reader

*unspecified gendered reader*

Reiner

Reiner flashed you his prettiest smile, the one he’d practiced in the mirror on occasion, the one he knew looked nice. The smile was contagious, sparking a small smile to grow on your face as you peered at him out of the corner of your eyes.

He’d keep the smile as he’d scratch at the back of his neck, asking, “Want to study together for the next quiz?” Reiner would flex his bicep a little more, raise his eyebrow and smirk seductively, run his hand through his shirt blond hair. “I’ll test you. Tonight”

Armin

You were surprised when Armin asked for your help with studying. He’d been scoring the highest in the class until recently, which you had assumed to have been a fluke.

Armin would curl his toes into the ground and bite the inside of his lip as the heat rushed to his face, as he lied about his level of understanding and hoped you’d believe it. Hoped you’d spend extra time with him, one-on-one.

“If you have the time,” he’d added cautiously, your silence unsettling him. “There’s no pressure, but Id repay you however you… please…” He swallowed hardly, you watched his adam’s apple bob. “However… unconventional.”

Connie

Connie would scratch the back of his neck in embarrassment, faux-confidence reeking off his skin as he flexed his muscles and tried to appear solid. The light sheen of sweat and pink blush across his cheeks exposed the truth, but you were willing to look past it because it was so warm out.

“Hey, y/n…” His usually loud voice was quieter today, a usually unbound announcement finally directed towards someone—you, “how are you feeling for this next quiz? I-I can help you if you need it.”

You couldn’t stifle the laugh in time before it was bubbling off your lips, making Connie’s face darker but also causing him to chuckle a little too. “H-hey, why is that so funny?”

Jean

Jean always tried too hard to impress you. Fumbling the ball because he checked to see if you watched him catch it; missed the goalpost because he focused on you being on the sideline and not the direction of the ball; wiped out during the mile run because he spent more time waving at you than watching the trail.

You tended to any wounds after, unsure if the blush that intimately graced his face was from the embarrassment of failing or the fact that your hands were on his body or both. Maybe it was on purpose, always needing your help.

Both yours and his gazes were fixed onto his ankle, where your hands were slowly and wrapping a bandage around the bruised skin. "Thank you... for always helping," Jean uttered coyly, looking up to make eye contact, his skin warm. "Maybe I can return the favor somehow." He looked away, the pink turning a deep red, but his fingertips were brushing your upper-arm. "Help you..."

Eren

Eren had sat next to you today, waving slightly. You greeted him and Mikasa as she sat on his other side. "Hey," he greeted softly, "did... did you get a haircut?"

"Yeah," you nodded, running your hand through the strands quickly. He blushed and looked away, facing the table.

"He thinks you look nice," Mikasa said plainly, smiling at you from behind him, which prompted him to look at her in a flash of horror and embarrassment and whisper-shouted, "Mikasa! Stop!"

You laughed, the magnetic sound pulling Eren's attention back towards you. "I think you look nice too, Eren," you complimented, biting your lip shyly.

He froze for a moment, struggling to remember how to breathe. "I, uh, um," he started, swallowing in between, "You look... nicer."

"He'd think you'd look nicer on a date together," Mikasa chirped from behind him, settling into the chair. He shouted at her again, the blush deepening.

Levi

Since you normally spent time in a group, having it be just you and Levi felt a little awkward. Most of the time he didn't speak anyway and you silently traced his features, appreciated each angle. You fiddled with a ring as you debated topics to bring up, wondered if he wanted to even speak to you at all. That was the thing with him. You had no idea where you stood.

You had opened your mouth to speak when he interrupted, "Did you get a haircut?" Same tone as always, but he was looking at you now with that iron gaze, the one that sucked the air out between them like a vacuum.

You hummed and nodded. "It looks nice." He reached his hand out and briefly touched the loose strand in front of your ear. "Suits you."

Erwin

Erwin had called out your name in the hallway to grasp your attention, his tight t-shirt immediately catching your eyes as he rushed over to you. It didn't help that he was so tall, and your eyes met at his nipples, and his shirt was so tight.

He repeated your name which caused your attention to move from his chest to his lips. He'd said something. You weren't paying attention. Shit.

"Sorry, what?" you asked sheepishly, blushing from embarrassment. Because it was him, the guy who always gave off the perfect persona, the guy who didn't need to ask because he was always listening.

Erwin laughed and repeated his offer to carry your textbooks to class, taking them from your hands before you could respond and walking alongside you.

Then you watched him unintentionally ignore a friend, someone who tried to say hi to him but he was oblivious to it. You couldn't explain it, but the fact that he didn't hear it made your palms sweat. You thought he was always aware, always listening.

But maybe that was just because he was always listening to you.

Zeke

You had fallen into step with Zeke after Jean and Eren ran off together, racing and arguing over some obsolete, absurd test of masculinity.

"Are you going to join them?" you asked him jokingly, pointing towards the immature boys trying to trip the other one as they both ran.

Zeke sighed, "I'd hoped you knew me better than that." He slumped his shoulders dramatically, and clutched his hand over his heart. "Oh, how your words wound me."

You rolled your eyes. "You're so dramatic, just like your brother." Zeke scoffed as you shrugged. "But that just means it runs in the family. Besides, you're way more mature than your brother. Like, he's not even on the board. So--"

"You are quite mature... and remarkable," he interrupted. You blushed, automatically retorting with a sarcastic commend, "Okay, well I didn't say you were remarkable."

"I'd like to be," he said plainly, stopping to look at you, "to be remarkable to you. To mean something to you."

Galliard

Normally Galliard only approached you on days where Reiner was all over you, picking on Reiner in front of you every chance he got, puffing his chest out slightly whenever you laughed.

Today, though, you were sat at your desk alone when he walked over and sat in front of you. “Hey, Porco,” you greeted, smiling, originally intending to quickly glance up but your irises caught on his and now they felt tethered.

“Good morning, y/n,” he replied smoothly, his tone different when Reiner wasn’t around, when it was just you two. It was silent for a moment, the only sign of time passing being the other students moving around you. “Heard Reiner asked you out. Wanted to hear what charity you were a part of that made you say yes.”

You laughed, covering your mouth in embarrassment when other students looked at you. He smirked, a light pink embracing his cheeks. "We should go out sometime," he added, winking, "Whatever time Reiner's thing is."

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transmisc2 · 11 months

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reposting an oldie but a goodie; “Venus as a Boy,” painted on commission for the Gender Unbound 2020 exhibition. found frame, acrylic gouache and colored pencil, paper cut-out, 3D pearl appliqués. 🌊⚧️🦪

#artists on tumblr #transmasculine #painting #trans artist #transmasc #venus as a boy #pearls

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finelythreadedsky · 5 months

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JSTOR Wrapped: top ten JSTOR articles of 2023

Coo, Lyndsay. “A Tale of Two Sisters: Studies in Sophocles’ Tereus.” Transactions of the American Philological Association 143, no. 2 (2013): 349–84.

Finglass, P. J. “A New Fragment of Sophocles’ ‘Tereus.’” Zeitschrift Für Papyrologie Und Epigraphik 200 (2016): 61–85.

Foxhall, Lin. “Pandora Unbound: A Feminist Critique of Foucault’s History of Sexuality.” In Sex and Difference in Ancient Greece and Rome, edited by Mark Golden and Peter Toohey, 167–82. Edinburgh University Press, 2003.

Garrison, Elise P. “Eurydice’s Final Exit to Suicide in the ‘Antigone.’” The Classical World 82, no. 6 (1989): 431–35.

Grethlein, Jonas. “Eine Anthropologie Des Essens: Der Essensstreit in Der ‘Ilias’ Und Die Erntemetapher in Il. 19, 221-224.” Hermes 133, no. 3 (2005): 257–79.

McClure, Laura. “Tokens of Identity: Gender and Recognition in Greek Tragedy.” Illinois Classical Studies 40, no. 2 (2015): 219–36.

Purves, Alex C. “Wind and Time in Homeric Epic.” Transactions of the American Philological Association 140, no. 2 (2010): 323–50.

Richlin, Amy. “Gender and Rhetoric: Producing Manhood in the Schools.” In Sex and Difference in Ancient Greece and Rome, edited by Mark Golden and Peter Toohey, 202–20. Edinburgh University Press, 2003.

Rood, Naomi. “Four Silences in Sophocles’ ‘Trachiniae.’” Arethusa 43, no. 3 (2010): 345–64.

Zeitlin, Froma I. “The Dynamics of Misogyny: Myth and Mythmaking in the Oresteia.” Arethusa 11, no. 1/2 (1978): 149–84.

#alphabetical order. im not ranking them #i still have two more froma zeitlin essays to read (one new and one a reread) in the next few days though #and its possible one of those might knock amy richlin off the rest (nothing personal; its a great piece just not my area)#but if im willing to have two things by the same scholar i would have to rethink including grethlein 'the poetics of the bath in the iliad'#some of my favorite articles/book chapters of the year are not on jstor though...#bill beck 'lost in the middle: story time and discourse time in the iliad'!!!#and lyndsay coo has a 2020 chapter updating and expanding this 2013 article that is 🔥🔥🔥#and of course judith mossman 'women's voices in sophocles' which is what send me to garrison 1989 and rood 2010 but is not itself on jstor #i also reread some of melissa mueller's objects as actors book which is wonderful as always #and i would be incredibly tempted to put william m calder iii's tereus article on a top ten list for sheer entertainment value #jstor wrapped #mine

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nillinlore · 2 months

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Sex and Body Positive Trans and Nonbinary Non-Fiction Books

Buy books from trans, nonbinary, and gender nonconforming authors! Here's a list of some non-fiction that I've really enjoyed. This is NOT extensive, it is just scratching the surface of what's out there.

Be sure to follow me for updates on my own books and a regular dose of non-binary gender euphoria! [18+ Only, I'm a sex blogger and pleasure informed queer sexuality writer.] NOTE: All links are to Amazon CA. Most of these are available at other retailers though, so, if it looks interesting please be sure to look it up at your preferred place to buy books!

Ashley, Florence. Gender/Fucking: The Pleasures and Politics of Living in a Gendered Body. CLASH Books, 2024.

Coyote, Ivan. Rebent Sinner. Arsenal Pulp Press, 2022.

Dale, Laura Kate, Ed. Gender Euphoria: Stories of Joy from Trans, Non-Binary and Intersex Writers. Unbound, 2022.

Grimm, Bruce Owens, Miguel M. Morales and Tiff Joshua TJ Ferentini, editors. Fat & Queer: An Anthology of Queer and Trans Bodies and Lives. Jessica Kingsley Publishers, 2021.

Kobabe, Maia. Gender Queer: A Memoir. Oni Press, 2019.

Lore, Nillin. How Do I Sexy? A Guide for Trans and Nonbinary Queers. Thornapple Press, 2024.

Lorenz, Theo. The Trans Self-Care Workbook: A Coloring Book and Journal for Trans and Non-Binary People. Jessica Kingsley Publishers, 2020.

Mx. Sly. Transland: Consent, Kink, and Pleasure. Arsenal Pulp Press, 2023.

Oaks-Monger, Tash. All the Things They Said We Couldn't Have: Stories of Trans Joy. Jessica Kinglsey Publishers, 2023.

Raines, Jamie. The T in LGBT: Everything You Need to Know About Being Trans. Vermilion, 2024.

Silver, Orlando. I Write the Body: Queer & Trans Kink, Desire, and Defiance. Kith Books & silvertongue PUBLISHING, 2023.

Sparks, Kelvin. Trans Sex: A Guide for Adults. Jessica Kingsley Publishers, 2022.

Tobia, Jacob. Sissy: A Coming-of-Gender Story. G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 2019.

Vaid-Menon, Alok. Beyond the Gender Binary. Pocket CHANGE Collective, 2020.

Violet, Mia. Yes, You Are Trans Enough: My Transition from Self-Loathing to Self-Love. Jessica Kingsley Publishers, 2019.

#trans #transgender #non binary #nonbinary #queer #lgbtq #gender nonconforming #genderqueer #genderfluid #lgbtq books #trans books #trans author #nonbinary writer #nonbinary author #nonbinary books #queer books #sex positive #body positive

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kaiapaia · 9 months

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All the Stars in Your Eyes

Pairing: Jing Yuan/Reader WC: 2062

Content warnings: this fic contains smut between two consenting adults. For the purposes of the smut, reader is described to have breasts and a vagina. No pronouns or gendered language are used to refer to the reader. No mentioned kinks, other than a slight oral fixation and hair pulling (JY receiving).

This is very loving reunion sex born out of me daydreaming about my selfship lore with this man.

Minors and ageless blogs DNI.

Jing Yuan has had centuries to cultivate his focus. A general of his years should be paying attention. He wants to, since you are clearly passionate about the constellations you are speaking about, but he cannot draw his eyes away from your legs. They peek out through the slits in your sleeping robe as you walk.

He is entranced by the movement of the silk over your smooth skin, teasing and tantalizing him as you pace around the room. A hunger stirs in the pit of his stomach, and a languid smile tugs at his mouth as he makes himself more comfortable in his position reclining on the bed.

“Distracted, general?” there is a teasing lilt to your voice, and Jing Yuan’s smile widens at being caught out. He drags his eyes up your form, to see that you’ve stopped moving and have crossed your arms over your chest, affecting an air of disapproval that is ruined by the amusement dancing in your eyes.

You slowly walk over to him, and he pushes himself up from his reclining position to greet you. As soon as you are within reach, he reaches out long arms to run his calloused palms up your legs. His fingers glide over the smooth fabric of your stockings, and the smile on his face takes a hungry edge when his hands reach your plush thighs. He dips a finger into the top of your stocking, snapping the band against your leg and watching entranced as the soft flesh jiggles.

Above him, you laugh softly, covering the sound with the long sleeve of your robe. He hears it regardless. Emboldened by your amusement he leans in and bites, sinking his teeth into the plush roll of your thigh, just above where the band of your stocking squeezes your leg. He smirks against your skin when he hears you gasp, a soft moan stuttering past your lips behind the silk sleeve of your robe.

He presses a tender kiss to the mark, a curl of satisfaction warming his belly at the ring of teeth marking your inner thigh. Just one taste is not enough, he decides, and leans in to repeat the process on your other thigh when he is intercepted.

You reach down and gently take his chin between your thumb and forefinger, pulling his head away from your legs. He is a sight to behold, sitting with his legs spread and looking up at you with golden eyes that shimmer with desire. His long hair is unbound in preparation for sleep, and you give in to the impulse to run your fingers through it, and he leans into the touch like an overgrown cat, practically purring at your touch.

With your other hand, you thumb at his plush bottom lip. He takes the opportunity to kiss the pad of your finger, before making eye contact and drawing your finger into his mouth. You feel him trace the length of your thumb with his tongue, before his cheeks hollow as he sucks for a moment and he releases your finger, leaving a teasing nip at the tip.

Grasping at the threads of your thoughts, you finally give up on maintaining the pretense of disapproval. He must see the change in your expression, because his smile grows wider and his big hands squeeze the backs of your thighs, thumbs sweeping over the skin as he pulls you closer.

“It seems you’ve distracted me too, General,” you purr, swiping your spit slicked thumb over the seam of his lips. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Only that I’ve missed you, my love.” He takes your hand and presses a lingering kiss to the back. For a moment, the desire in his eyes melts into a love so raw and tender that it sends shivers down your spine.

Then the heat is back in his gaze, and he tugs you down into his lap. “Let me make it up to you, dear one,” he whispers against your lips.

You lean in first, closing the scant few inches between you to tangle your hands in his hair and seal your lips over his. He tastes like coming home, his mouth sweet with the sugar of the milk tea that he so favors. He groans, fingers digging into the meat of your hips as he slides his lips against yours.

He swipes his tongue against your mouth, silently asking to deepen the kiss. You feel him twitch under you when you part your lips and allow him in. Your tongues tangle, and his hands slide hot and heavy from your hips to your back, pressing you against the firm muscle of his chest.

Leaning into him, you rest your weight fully in his lap and roll your hips against him. He makes a punched out sound, and he immediately slides his hands down your back to grip your rear, giving it a squeeze before encouraging you to roll your hips again. In the same motion, you fist one of your hands in his hair and pull, partially to break the kiss so that you can breathe, but mostly because you know he likes it.

As you roll your hips and tug his head back, Jing Yuan lets out a filthy groan, fixing one hazy golden eye on your face while his hips chase the friction. He grinds up against your core, and you can feel him hot and hard through the thin layers of your underwear and his sleep pants. You both moan at the contact, and you slide your hands from his hair to ruck his shirt up over his chest, pushing up in a silent demand for him to take it off. He chuckles low in his chest at your rush but complies, squeezing your ass one more time before he raises his arms to shed his shirt.

You begin work on shedding your robe, loosening the hidden ties and letting the silk slide off your shoulders, leaving it to pool forgotten somewhere on the floor. You waste no time in bearing down on your beloved general, pushing him down into the soft tangle of pillows and sheets. He huffs out a laugh that stutters off into a groan as you suck a mark into the side of his throat, and he strokes a warm hand down the length of your spine as you continue to nip and suck at his neck and chest.

He lets you have your way with him for a moment, before his hands return to your hips and he begins to pull you up his chest. You waver for a moment, putting a hand on his chest to stop the movement. “You don’t have to,” you murmur.

Reaching up, he gently covers your hand with his. “I want to, my love. I’ve been waiting for a chance to taste you again since you left,” the corner of his mouth cants up. “Also, I owe this to you for getting distracted.”

You huff out a laugh. “That is true. I expect you to make this distraction worth my while, General,” you tease.

He grins underneath you. “I intend to,” he promises, pulling you the rest of the way up, until your glistening center hovers over his mouth. You shudder at the first touch of his tongue, the slick slide sending sparks racing through your body. His touches are gentle, exploratory. It feels as if he is reacquainting himself with your body. The touches stoke heat in the pit of your stomach, but every time you begin to near a peak, he slows down. You groan in frustration as your third peak fades away, and you can feel him laugh softly against your most sensitive parts.

You fist a hand in his hair and pull, drawing his eyes to yours. The molten gold of his irises sparkle with amusement, but that spark is drowned in the lust that fills his eyes as you pull again. “You said you would make this worth my while. Stop teasing.” The weight of the demand is somewhat lessened by how breathy your voice is, but it doesn’t seem to matter.

“As my love commands.” You can feel him smile underneath you, and he pulls you down by your hips so that your pussy rests on his face. He immediately begins bringing your simmering orgasm roaring back to life, working you over with his tongue so efficiently that you are clinging to the headboard and trembling within a matter of minutes.

Your peak hits you like a hurricane, and Jing Yuan does not relent, holding you to his face until you are squirming away and begging him to stop. You both are breathing heavily, and you take a moment to take in the scene beneath you. He is flushed, hair a mess and eyes blown black, and his cheeks and chin glisten with your release. He makes eye contact, and very slowly and deliberately, he wipes your essence off his face with one hand and sucks his fingers into his mouth to clean them, humming at the taste.

You slide down his torso to rest on his thighs. His thin sleep pants do little to hide the shape of him, hard and leaking against his leg. He makes a wounded noise when you grip him through the cloth, and you stroke him once before pulling down his pants. You tease him for a moment, relishing the sounds he makes and the way his abdomen and thighs move as you spread the precum down his shaft, tracing the large vein on the underside. He doesn’t make any moves to rush you, but the clench of his jaw and the small, aborted thrusts of his hips tell you that he is holding himself back.

Getting on your knees, you line him up with your entrance. Your breath hitches as the blunt head presses into you. “I’ve been thinking of you inside me since I left,” you breathe out as you sink down on him, drawing him fully into your wet heat. He moans at that, throwing his head back into the pillow as your hips touch his.

His hands trace up and down your thighs as you begin to bounce on him, squeezing and kneading at your ass while you move. He is transfixed by you, watching your chest bounce and his eyes are drawn to the point where your bodies are joined. You put on a show for him, one hand resting on a firm thigh behind you while the other hand pinches and tweaks one of your breasts. His cock hits something deep inside you, and your head lolls back on your shoulders as you moan. At the sound, his hips stutter and his hands spasm, digging his fingers into the meat of your ass.

When your rhythm starts to falter and you fall forward, hands on his chest, Jing Yuan reaches up to press a kiss to your sweaty shoulder. He plants his feet on the bed and begins fucking up into you in earnest. His cock drives against something inside you that makes you collapse boneless against his chest, helpless against the waves of pleasure that crash over you. In your haze you feel your peak crest again, making your pussy squeeze him like a vice. He groans long and low into your hair, following you over the edge.

The two of you lie there for a moment, basking in the afterglow. You run a hand through his hair, and he has one arm looped loosely around your waist and the other stroking soothingly up and down your back. You prop yourself up on one arm, so you can see his face. “I did miss you,” you whisper, brushing his hair away from his face. He leans up to kiss you softly in acknowledgement, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You turn your face to muffle a yawn into the back of your hand. He pulls the covers up, tucking you into his side under the blankets. “Sleep, my love. You’ve had a long day. We can talk more when you’ve rested,” he kisses your forehead.

“When we talk tomorrow, you’ll need to keep your hands to yourself,” you pin him with a mock glare.

He smiles, unrepentant. “You look so tempting, how could I possibly stay away from you?”

#jing yuan x reader #jing yuan smut #jing yuan x you #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #jing yuan #fic #kaiawrites

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twisted-wonderland-but-gayer · 7 months

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OP I am new to twisted wonderland but I saw the binding hc post and I uuuuuh have a request if that’s okay. My request is basically like, MC/Yuu who is AFAB and NB or Trans Masc who isn’t out. They get sorted into dorms or something and refuse to wear the uniforms because Tiddies are More Pronounced and that’s not cash gender of them. and they basically get into a fight with the dorm leaders that lead to them coming out while yelling and then just. The dorm leaders are like ???? Well shit that’s fixable why didn’t you say that earlier ??

Trans Yuu

Yuu is a trans dude in the middle of transitioning at the worst place to do it— NRC.

Notes: went in a wild direction lmao. Anyways FTM Yuu. Shitty jokes and cringe.

You are a 2010 Stefani Canturi Barbie and God is a mother going through her kid's toys to donate to the Bratz section at goodwill, you are sure of it. There is no way in hell it was coincidence that you ended up in an all-boys school filled with the stupidest people you met otherwise. Perhaps god just assumed you were both dolls so it doesn’t really matter what toy pile you were put in, and you don’t know if that is the biggest compliment you have received— to be compared to cis dudes— or an insult (these men fucking suck).

With all the running around you had to do the first day, no one was able to sniff you out, yet. Still, it didn't last that long, and it didn’t. Deuce was far too kind and dense to really tell what you were, and Grim was Grim. Ace on the other hand almost seemed to side-eye you at times. You tried to ignore it and pray to the goodwill mom that he doesn’t say anything, and surprisingly he didn’t, you got that stupid gem, celebrated, and went over to your crow overlord (who doesn’t even notice your predicament either) to turn it in and go the fuck home. Perhaps the only break you got was the fact that people here spoke a sort of similar language to you even if it was a bit… strange. Whatever, you can think tomorrow, right now you can make yourself comfortable and finally sleep uninterrupted.

And then that fucker from before came to you at one in the morning, after you have unbound yourself and got comfortable begging for you to let him sleep in your bed, strange collar on his neck. “No, Ace. You can make yourself comfortable on the couch.” You crossed your arms over your chest nervously and thankfully the dumbass didn't notice. “C’mon, c’mon, I’m super skinny! I won’t take up any space!” Ace pleaded. You and Grim looked at each other tiredly then back at Ace. “No.” You said before sighing and heading upstairs.

“Awwee!! Cmon!!!” “Cry about it.” You sneered, but as you ascended the steps you notice Ace watching you with that look in his eyes from earlier. He knows doesn’t he…

***

You may not know Trey and Cater well, but you owe them your life. The dumbass trio you were with despite living in this world their whole life could not tell you the most basic shit about it for the life of them. And even worse, despite two of them being selected for this university and one choosing to sneak in with plenty of time to research it beforehand (hell, Ace has a brother who went here), they both decided to go in completely blind and not understand anything at all.

Thankfully, your dear juniors seemed to take pity on you and actually took time to explain the bare fucking minimum for all four of your sakes. Yet as they explained everything to you in such sweet simplicity, you notice Trey look over to your form that you kept nervously wrapped up in the only oversized overcoat (that all Yuu’s in the manga have) to hide your figure. “Are you alright there Yuu?” He asks and you freeze.

“Yeah, it's just…” Trey frowned and adjusted his glasses out of concern. “Did Crowley provide any resources for you? It must be difficult being stuck here as a girl and all.” You pause and before you can speak you are interrupted. “YOU’RE WHAT.” The dumbass trio all yelled at once making you, Trey, and Cater all shut your eyes pensively. “Dude! I mean bro— I mean— Ugh!” Ace sputtered, and Deuce looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die with how much he was overthinking. Looking over at Trey, the regret on his face was obvious, and you can only assume he thought you told the other three. “You didn’t tell us you're a girl!” Ace yaps.

“I’m not, I’m a guy, I just…” Cater speaks up. “They got the wrong body babes, it's nbd.” The ginger strikes a selfie pose, “That's a thing???” Deuce stared wide-eyed. “Exactly!” You speak up. Trey clears his throat, looking even more ashamed. “Ah, my…. I’m sorry Yuu I didn’t know.” “It’s fine, you didn’t know, plus I guess it was obvious.” At that, the group around you went quiet.

“Uh no it wasn't ?” Ace crosses his arms. “Have you seen the guys in this school? Some of them straight up look like chicks!” “I thought you knew 'cause you were looking at me weird yesterday!” Ace’s face becomes slightly flustered. “I wasn’t staring—“ Ace stopped his excuse when he saw you and Trey glare. “Okay, fine I was! You happy?” “Why were you staring at them?” Grim asks unimpressed.

Ace gets even more flustered. “It's cause, well you know—“ Cater raises his brows and suppresses a knowing smile and a laugh to the best of his ability as he looks over at you. Ace huffs, “How did you not know Grim? You share a bed with them!” “Haaah? Don't change the subject—“ “Okay that's enough.”

Trey sighs. “Once again, I am very sorry about that Yuu, I thought—“ “It's okay Trey, you didn’t know… But also how did both of you know?” Cater winks, “Oh he’s just like that, babes. Trey-Kun attracts all sorts of fruit to him.” You snort and not how Trey seems to sigh, “Are you one of them?” Cater's eyes widen for a moment before he gives a chuckle. “Good one, but we’ve dealt with enough people in this school to tell by now, though. “So you both just have a gaydar, got it.” “Ooh I like that word, I’ll steal it from ya!” Cater winks again.

“In any case…” Trey adjusts his glasses again. “There's no need to sweat over it. You’ll fit in fine here, Yuu, however, I recommend that you bother Crowley for a spell or potion to get you switched to a new body as soon as possible so this conversation doesn't happen again.” Trey is putting on a brave face to hide his mortification of how he accidentally outed someone. “Crowley can be a real pain sometimes, but he will deliver on that at the very least. Until then you could probably get something from Sam’s for a temporary fix, though they will cost a small fee since they’re home-brewed, or brew your own potion.”

“Oh yeah, you guys have magic here for that stuff… that's crazy…” “Oh yeah, there’s no magic in your world huh Yuu-Kun?” Cater thinks for a moment, “Healthcare here includes that sorta care, but I imagine it’ll be a little difficult to apply for it since you're not from this world and stuff. Kinda hard to do that stuff if you don't exist here, huh?” Cater muses. “Alright, now let's get back to telling them about the dorms Trey!”

“Ah, one more thing, all of you.” Trey’s expression becomes more serious, and gestures to a table where two people— twins with teal hair sit together. “Be careful with Octavinelle students,” he warns, “especially those two. They work for their dorm leader, Azul. They’re scam artists, do not ever make a deal with any of them, especially you, Yuu. Do not tell them what you are.” “Why?” Cater nudges you. “They’ll totally be like ‘We can help you transition Yuu!’ And then your soul is theirs!”

“That’s no different from where I’m from.”

***

Ace and Deuce were a bit weird with you for the next few hours, before Grim got annoyed with them acting overly cautious and insulted them, which in turn made them all have an annoying argument that you got involved in, in which they treated you like one of the bros. You have to make a note to get Grim the world's most premium tuna for that later.

And when it came time to grab the tuna, you also had to check out Sam’s potion brewery, where you learned that Sam was a real cool dude. He’s a salesman at the end of the day, always looking for a profit, but at least he was fair. He never overpriced things and always knew how to make a good deal. And though you were prepared to drop nearly your whole allowance on a potion Sam seemed to stop you.

“Hey there little imp! Before you pick one of those out, what form are you lookin’ to take?” You look around for a moment, making sure no one was nearby. “I’m looking for a transitioning potion? I wanna be a dude…” You mutter. Anxiety brews in your gut as Sam leans in, keeping eye contact with you. The salesman then bounces back to his feet in an animated and theatrical manner. “Well, we got those iiiiiinnn STOCK! Lucky for you, we have all sorts to choose from!” Sam says before taking out crate after crate.

“Please, pick that one that calls to you.” You look at the vials nervously before pulling one out of the velvet casing they were carefully placed in. The liquid inside has the consistency of a purple, glittery syrup. “That's a great one!” Sam says. “One small issue though.” Oh god here it comes, by picking up the vial you probably should your soul to him and you're gonna be doomed to work here the rest of your life.

“That's gonna be temporary, little imp! Not good for the long term. The Mystery Shop cannot sell permanent potions for these unless you have a prescription, but my little friends from the other side say that you ain’t from these parts.” Sam smiles. “Take 4, on the house! And drink them all at once, that should give you around 4 and half months in that form!” “Really? Are you sure!” Sam nods, “Course! It's not a loss at all either, I get compensated to give em out anyways! Do be sure to tell Crowley to get you a permanent one though! Or it may be quicker to ask that professor of yours!”

“Thank you Mr.Sam! I’ll keep it in mind.”

***

Crowley is an asshole, a real bitch, and one of the most annoying people you know. But at least he can be reasonable once in a blue moon. When bringing up needing a potion he merely went on a 30-minute rant on how he’ll get a prescription for you because he’s “oh so generous” and totally not because he’s probably a fruit too like everyone else in this school.

You expected this process of getting a prescription to be a very annoying and long wait, just for you to receive the paper later allowing it less than an hour later. Sam did say that asking Professor Crewel for a good potion would be better than asking him since he’s certified to make them. Given how extra he is with everything too, you're sure any potion by him would be insane. So here you were, head down and begging that this man help you, one alphabet soup to another.

“Let me get this straight. You want me to make you a prescription potion for you, rather than get it from Sam’s because you think I would make a better one.” You nod, and Crewel could tell there wasn't any flattery behind your words, you truly believed what you said. “Sam didn’t put you up to this did he?” “I mean he mentioned you could help but that’s it, why is he plotting something?” “He’s been trying to get me to make him a batch of these for ages, saying that he only wants the highest quality products for his customers.” “Seems like I was right to go to you.”

Crewel almost lets out a sigh, before tapping his whip against his palm. “Fine then pup. I’ll give you a private lesson for potionology because you will be taking notes and helping me as well.” “Really?” “Crowley did say there is no record of you existing anywhere. Consider this the pre-lessons you were supposed to learn in high school.”

After an hour of work, you have successfully created three giant bottles of the stuff Crewel guided you to make, and now in your notes, you have the recipe just in case something happens to them. “Listen here.” Crewel commands and you whip your head to him. “Wait until those four months are up on the serum you are on before taking these. Take only 15 milligrams of each a day until you are all out. This way, it’s permanent and you don't have to worry about someone turning you back so easily.” The professor smiles and taps his baton in his other hand.

“Any questions?” “Why am I on the serum then, sir?” “That one prepares your body for a more permanent change, especially if you show any complications with the magic used.” “Got it, sir, that’s all the questions I have.” “Good, now clean your workspace, and go back to your dorm. I expect you to be fully awake in the morning for class.” “Yes, sir” “And I also expect that you will be more responsive than your peers in class because of this.” “Of course, sir.”

Carefully putting the bottles in your bag, and using your jacket as a cushion for each one you braved your way outside nervously. Sam did say that the vials you took will take a while to take effect since your body isn’t used to magic…

***

The final thing you learned in these past two days was that the misogyny here is very much inclusive, you can't tell if that’s a sign of progress or not. The second you walked out of that door you had your very first instance of bullying (Aside from Ace) since arriving in this world. A few Savanaclaw jocks standing by seemed to immediately look over and snicker.

You stood your ground as they approached, knowing walking away would make it worse and if it got bad Crewel was still in that room. “Tch, you’re the new kid huh?” One said in a very stereotypical stupid school bully way. You’re half surprised they didn’t include some insult like “dweebus” or something. “Hah, bro doesn't even have good pecs, what a fucking girl.” One says. “Never knew they made exceptions for girls!” The other says.

“Uh, yeah, it's gonna take a while for this potion to take effect.” A cat boy scoffs, “What potion.” “The one that’s supposed to make me a boy, it's taking a while.” The group went silent for a moment, the weird wolfman sniffs the air at you for a moment before beckoning his bros to lean in and listen. After a painfully awkward moment, the cat boy leader comes back to lean into your face. “So you are a boy! Big deal! You still don't have pecs!” He says, changing his whole tune. “Yeah well you may be a boy but you're… your…” The fox boy pauses, trying to find a proper insult, just to be interrupted by the wolfman again. “But you fucking suck at being one!”

“YEAH!” All three cheer together as they finally find the right niche to bully you in. Suddenly the door next to you opens. “You three! Silence! Leave them alone, it's curfew! Or do you want me to put you to work?” Crewel reprimands, leaving the three running off with their tails between their legs. “You too Yuu.” And you nod and take it as your sign to leave.

You were gonna have a great time learning how to be a boy

#trans reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #ace trappola x reader #sam x reader #twst sam x reader #divus crewel x reader

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dantheserialkillerman · 8 months

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Hiroki Dan X GN!Teacher (one shot)

Contains: Gender Neutral Reader and Age Difference General warning: Medium-length post (1,461 words) TW: Possessiveness/Yandere vibes Characters: Hiroki Dan and You

– There is a theory called The Green World by Northrop Fry. It's actually quite simple. Shakespeare's comedies follow a structure: in spring, the fertility month, the characters transition from the everyday world, faced with societal bondage, to the wild, where everything becomes topsy turvy, back to the ordinary world renewed and unbound. As you skimmed your class, you couldn't help but wonder if the same theory also applied to your life. This moment did feel wild.

– The semester is your first as a teacher at one of Toyko's most highly regarded private high schools, and according to the curious stares from your students, they don't know what to make of you. It sets you on edge. Yet, there is also great excitement as you finally have fulfilled your dream of educating the next generation after years of studying. Is there a word for both terror and elation? Perhaps euphoria? It did once mean to be removed from one's body. However, frisson seems to settle in your mind. Your hair does feel on end.

– One..two...three...breath...one...two...three...breath. You repeat this phrase over and over again as you start your lesson. This subject is your favourite, and not to brag, but you are an expert in this field; the school would have never hired you otherwise, and the parents would have you fired, flayed, and put out front as a warning for everyone else. Even some universities would pale in comparison. These are households of politicians, millionaires, and businessmen. The top of the top and greatness ensures they only produce greatness, or at least the image of it.

– Everything seems to be going well; to your surprise, the kids are actively engaged, yet you cannot help but sense an uneasiness. You feel dissected, like a butterfly being prepped for a display case. When turning around, an intensity makes you pause over a word to prevent a stutter. You swear unseen hands are rushing over your body as if to hold you and say, "Stay still; I deserve to look," for what reason you don't know. It's nerves, you tell yourself, focus on the lesson; you can't mess up the first class.

– But it happens again during the next lesson. Then, the one after that. Again and again until finally, when handing back the first assignment, you meet the cause after class.

– It was Autumn when the weather couldn't decide if it wished to be hot or cold, the leaves turning into a violent swarm of reds and oranges as if the trees were on fire. It had been a long day; you had to send someone to the head office for interrupting class, forgot your lunch, and were stuck grading papers. The only people still here were after-school clubs and occasionally teachers you heard walking in the halls.

– You were so absorbed in your work that you couldn't help but jump when you felt a tap on your shoulder and a soft "Excuse me" in your ear. Looking up in shock, you are surprised to see a man...well, a teenager. Handsome for his age, most likely eighteen and in his final year, with a shock of dark hair and eyes against pale skin, a warm smile breaks the otherwise monochrome facade. An image of Adder Snake flashes in your mind when he tilts his head and beams...it is as if he enjoyed scaring you.

– "Oh, I'm sorry, professor," he places a hand over his heart and straightens, "I merely wanted to get your attention." His eyes are so black that you can see your own startled reflection, and despite being in a more senior position, how small you look compared to this boy. You hate it.

– "It's fine," you look at the clock, "it's past five; shouldn't you be heading home, or is there something I can help you with?" You attempt to clean your desk to make it look moderately presentable. In reality, you wanted to seem busy so you didn't have to look him in the eye again. There was something profoundly unnerving about how he could pin you down with merely a look.

– His hand moves gracefully into his bag and pulls out a piece of paper; you recognize it as the recently returned assignment from your afternoon class. He places it delicately on your desk, atop the other essays you were grading. Pompous little shit, you couldn't help but think. You tilt over and see the grade, a ninety-five, the highest score you gave out recently.

– Picking up the paper, you hold it out for the student to take back, "It was very well-written and researched, particularly the second paragraph. Congratulations..." You quickly glance at the paper, hopefully discreetly, "Hiroki-kun." The name settled in your mouth like honey, sticking to your throat unpleasantly despite how sweet it sounded.

– He leans against the desk, the same plain smile upon his face and a light chuckle escaping his upturned lips. There is an uneasiness in the air, that pressure you felt during the day in increments, dilating in this very moment.

– "Thank you," he moves closer, and you realize the door is closed; who shut it? "But I wanted to ask," Closer, "what could I have done to have gained that extra five percent?"

– "I..." You feel speechless, your face hot from panic, "Well...you could've shortened it, perhaps?" Say anything to get him to leave.

– "That's it?"

– "It was written very well; I wouldn't worry about your grade."

– He takes the paper and folds it absent-mindedly, "I will take it to heart," as if to prove it, he holds the essay to his chest, "You are my favourite teacher here, and any advice you give me is a great help." To your horror, he looks somewhat bashful. Yet, it would be a lie to say it didn't stroke your ego.

– You clear your throat, "Thank you, but it is getting late-"

– "Let me walk you to your bike." You wonder how he knew you biked to school? "My father is the police superintendent General, and I am also heading out; I don't want someone so..." He looks down to where you are sitting, "vulnerable to walk outside by themselves."

– You weighed the options in your head. Saying no could hurt your reputation; this was the kid of a high-ranking official, and if you pissed off Daddy, you would be fired on the spot. Was it unnerving and inappropriate? Yes. But you couldn't think of a way to worm your way out of this dilemma. It was a true dichotomy.

– "I wouldn't want to burden a young man like yourself...."

– His smile stretched wider, so vast you could count each pearly white tooth. What big teeth you have..." It would be my pleasure."

– Hiroki demanded to carry your briefcase and, while you walked, asked miscellaneous questions about your life. How old are you? Do you live alone? Are you Married? How far do you live from campus? You tried to answer him subtly, attempting to dodge the questions with little skill. You cursed the school for being so big and your pupil for being such a slow walker.

– Ten minutes later, you reach your bike. Or where it should have been. Nothing but the chain was attached to the fence. You look around and quickly conclude that someone has stolen it. Man, I'm a fucking genius, you thought sarcastically, but you had to Act professionally. Act bloody professional. Oh, God, how in the living hell would you get back to your dingy little apartment?

– "People these days," Hiroki shook his head, "my father has been trying to tamper down the rise in petty crime such as this," he slung your case over his shoulder, "but it seems he has a long way to go."

– You pushed your forehead in stress, "It's fine, I'll just take public transport." And it would be awful in that crowded cart filled with annoyed people.

– "Nonsense," He turned and started to walk towards the parking lot; in confusion, you began to follow him, "I own a car, and someone like yourself wouldn't be safe on public transport." He looked over his shoulder, and you felt your stomach sink, "I'll drive you home." Shit.

– "It's fine, really. Plus, you're a student-"

– "My father would never forgive me if I left you in such a state. Alone. Defenceless. I mean," He stopped and turned. Suddenly, you recognized how tall and broad he was as he towered over you. "I could attack you right now, and you would have no way to defend yourself." His left eye twitched softly like he trying to keep a particular thought at bay, and you felt your lungs freeze, "But you're lucky," He chuckled, "I would never harm my favourite teacher." The air seemed to stop momentarily as if the sky held its breath for what he would say next. "I only want to do a good deed," Another laugh, "They make me feel blessed," and softly grabbing your hand and bringing it to his cheek, he tilted his head into your palm, whispering, "Won't you bless me, teacher?"

– You wondered if Northrop Fry had a theory on Shakespearian tragedy. What dark world were you being brought into by those eyes?

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msbarrybeeson · 1 month

Text

Before You Go - P.6 | Future Donatello & April O’Neil Insight

(Reader Included)

A/N: Any constructive criticism is appreciated. Reader comments and feedback are also welcomed a lot.

I have been gone for a long time. Just occupied with my studies! No fan fiction author curse or anything (yet).

Summary: You’re both adopting-parents of Casey. The story follows the perspective of Donatello and April O’Neil during the Kraang apocalypse. You and Leonardo decided to ask them to watch over thirteen-year-old Casey.

In other words, familial interactions between April, Donnie, and Casey Jr.

Reader: Gender-neutral pronouns are used, except the terms “(Mom / Dad)” are also used. Second POV.

Pairing: Rise! Future! Leonardo X Reader

Warnings: Bittersweet.

Word Count: ~3490

Parts: One / Two / Three / Four / Five / Six / ...

Donnie knew how much of a genius he was.

It was no surprise after all. In his late teens, he improved NASA’s satellites to communicate with planets light centuries away. He cured breast cancer through the use of protons in radiation therapy to target specific cells, rather than affecting the harmless. Hell, he even managed to discover a new type of radioactive particles: mutons. By that point, he—.

“—should have been given a Nobel Prize in Medicine and in Chemistry.” Donnie cursed under his breath. He strolled over to his lab bench, equipping his goggles.

Squeeeak.

April– who was found seated on Donnie’s roughed-up, spinning gaming chair– raised an eyebrow. Her hair had grown out and was left unbounded. Faint wrinkles and eye bags on her features displayed maturity, in contrast to a couple of years ago. However, everyone was well aware that time was not the only factor.

“Whatcha going on about now, Donnie?”

The softshell huffed. “Recall when I wrote a report about my experimental findings with an invention meant to revive a deceased human being?”

“...You mean the one where you thought it was a good idea to open up Curie’s tomb? Even gone as far as to ask for my help?” April grimaced. “Who’d ever forget that.”

She proceeded to massage her temples.

“God. You were in all kinds of messed up for that, Don.”

Lightning-like yellow sparks flickered as Donnie had his robotic hands occupied with a butane torch. His goggles were sealed tight around his eyes as he built a oval-looking device on his lab bench. Titanium outer-layer over a seriously complex circuit-board; appearing as if Samsung marketed grenades.

He scoffed. “Oh please. It wasn’t as if I’d taken long to understand how Marie Curie deserves her rest for her great contributions to radiation. Thus is why–.”

“–You decided to take a poor random husband of an old wife,” April interjected.

“Ahem.” Donnie pronounced. “The poor woman was begging me for her husband to be alive again. I was simply gracious and generous enough to not charge her for the process.” He set aside the butane torch. “At least it progressed well; he stayed alive for an additional two years. It gave his wife psychological comfort, and I was able to submit my paper to the N.S.F..”

He picked up a screwdriver. “Except....”

April could tell her friend’s eye was twitching.

“They rejected my findings, nearly had me detained, and claimed it was far too ‘unethical.’” Donnie raised his volume. “Scoff! As if those researchers weren’t committing the crime themselves! Taking bodies away from families and claiming them as scientific property without permission.

If I could go back in time and shove my documents in their jaws, you bet I would.”

April smirked. “Well, I have my regrets too, Donnie.”

“You sound rather amused, April. Is that so surprising? And here I never thought you would regret your part-time job at Albearto’s. Or the fact you wasted money to switch to journalism in university.”

WHACK!

April threw her bat at Donnie’s head, flying back to her hand like a boomerang.

“Watch your mouth, mister. I may have regretted Albearto’s, but not a single moment in my life did I ever regret my journalism passion.” She stood up.

“Ouch.” The softshell vocalized, squinting his eyes toward her. His robotic clampers paused, setting aside the torch and taking off his goggles.

“Mind yourself, April. Horse-playing is forbidden in the laboratory. I am not consenting to having yet another silver-titanium apparatus get scratched because of you.” Donnie gritted his teeth. “Can you hear the negative connotation?”

“Seriously, Donnie? Where’d that come from? Not only was that years ago but it ain’t anything except a simple accident.”

“‘Simple accident?’” the softshell repeated with dramatic offense. “An accident, like many others in science labs, which could have caused severe damage! Remember the incident when your teacher dumped bleach and vinegar into the trash bin?

You know, if you had paid any attention in your chemistry class, those two would make mustard gas?” Donnie side-eyed his friend. “Simple accidents can have serious consequences, O’Neil.”

A hand crept up the lab bench.

“Uh-huh, and I’m supposed to believe an instance of me knocking over your phone and books would kill somebody?” April crossed her arms. “If anything, the blame’s yours for not organizing your desk when you got drunk on coffee.”

The hand took ahold of the butane torch.

“Donatello? Disorganized? Sounds cheap coming from you, a student majoring in Journalism.”

April pulled up her coat’s sleeves. “Oh boy, you’re about to get it—.”

Squeeeak!

Heads spun and found a 13-year old boy, replacing April’s spot on Donnie’s chair. Casey eyed the torch with a great yet concerning amount of curiosity.

“Yo, what’s this for, Uncle Don?”

At lightning speed, while April ran to move the gaming chair away further from the workbench, Donnie snatched the tool from his hands. “Child. Casey. Young man.” The softshell heaved loudly. “I must inform you this is NOT meant to be handled with such casual ease. How in Hawking did you even—.”

“Don’t your lab have a passcode or something?”

“–Is what I am wondering myself, O’Neil. I refuse to believe this child remembers the beginning thirty numbers of π–.”

“Nope, only us.” April and Donnie lifted their gazes to his lab entrance. You leaned on the frame while a dear red-eared slider stood just behind. A couple of steps inside, and the metallic lab door shut close.

Donnie– strangely– was quick to hide his device-in-progress off to the side.

“You’re back!” April grinned. “Hell, you would not believe the convo Donnie and I were having a minute ago.” She hurried to hug you.

“Figures,” Leo remarked. “We could practically hear you yards off.”

“Sounds like things never get old.” You smiled.

There was a side-eye between Donnie and April, before the Commander proceeded to inquire, coughing: “Anyhow.. care to explain the occasion? You two don’t seem to be in a hurry.”

“The only times you ever visit my laboratory are to prepare for immediate combat engagement, and you look awfully collected.” The softshell furrowed his brows.

“No, no.” You waved your hands, shaking your head. “Thank God no. We came here to ask if you two could take care of our Casey here while we head out.” The other turtle scrunched his in-quote eyebrows. “You— You came here to request us to... babysit him?”

April jabbed him in his plastron.

“You see? Just like I said.” Leo turned to you. “I know my brother, love. Don’s not the kind of guy to take responsibility for a kid. Or anyone, really.”

“Hold on.” Donnie narrowed his eyes. “I never said I refused, Leo.”

“Don’t know, it sounds like it to me.”

“Well, my misinformed brother, contrary to your belief, I am perfectly capable of handling a child.”

You huffed with amusement. Your husband only winked back.

“If you say so, Don.”

“Where are you two heading off for if you needed us to watch over him?” April inquired. “Wondering, ‘cause this never happened even when you two leave for patrol.”

“Just finding some time for ourselves.”

April exclaimed, “As in a honeymoon? Why not just say so? We’ll leave you two alone–.”

“–In this economy and climate?” Donnie interjected. “Has it also not been six years since your yet-to-be-legal marriage?”

“Alright, alright,” Leonardo chuckled. “Cut us some slack, bro. Finding time wasn’t easy when there’s Kraang above our necks.”

“Right, and you’re going on a honeymoon, how?” The softshell crossed his arms. “Simply because you’re the leader does not equate to you making wise decisions, Leo.”

“His ōdachi can teleport anyone to anyplace, we have some hope we can easily teleport to a remote area,” you answered. “One without Kraang infestation. It’ll be hard, but we may as well try.”

“Bonus points if we find clear skies and an ocean.” The red-eared turtle grinned, wrapping his arm over your shoulders.

“What’s a honeymoon, (Mom / Dad)?”

Your hand went to caress Casey’s cheek. “Parent quality time. It just means you get to handle yourself like the responsible grown-up you’ll become one day. Just promise me you’ll be on your best behavior around Uncle Don and Auntie April?”

“I promise, (Mom / Dad)!”

“Good boy,” Leo laughed, ruffling the kid’s hair.

“You didn’t ask Mikey and Raph to help out too, or?”

“Between you and me, I think you guys are better of making sure Casey doesn’t get into any chaos,” you whispered to April. “Don’t tell them that, though.”

She laughed. “Okay, I see how it is. You both have fun.”

Donnie bit his lip. Right as Leonardo and (Name) turn to exit the laboratory, he extended his arm out to them.

“Leo, (Name).”

You two faced back to him once more.

“Don’t kill yourselves out there.”

Everyone’s eyes widened– April, you, and Leonardo himself. But the brother in blue snickered, holding a smile that reached his eyes. “So you do also care for me, Don. And all this time I thought you were plotting to put me in my grave or something.”

“We won’t.” Leo placed a hand on your shoulder. “You got my word.”

“Bye (Mom / Dad)! Bye Papa!”

“We’ll be back soon, Casey!”

Donnie stood in silence as you finally left, leaving himself with none other than his best friend and his nephew. “I refuse to believe this is the future we have to deal with.”

“Times changed all of us, didn’t they?” April spoke. “One day we wish each other a good one, and the next, we hope we just don’t die. I could’ve been a famous news anchor by now, make my mother happy, fight crime without worrying about dying the next second.

..I wonder if there’s anyone else out there besides the small number of us down here.”

“..I doubt it.”

Donnie pulled himself together and walked back to his workbench, operating his clampers to work once again. He put on his goggles. Casey, being a young teenager of enthusiasm, peeked over.

“Watch yourself, boy,” April warned.

“Don’t worry about me, Auntie. I’m only standing over here.” Casey narrowed his eyes upon the glowing and metal-like ball his uncle had his tools on. “What are you working on, Uncle Don?”

“A sphere.”

“A sphere?”

“You heard correctly.”

“That sounds kind of boring.”

Donnie had to hold himself back from remarking with: ‘That is exactly what every child whose intellect is doomed would say.’

“I’m sure your mother would find it rather moving.”

“(Mom / Dad)? I don’t understand what’s emotional about a ball, though.”

“Hey Casey.” April coughed. “Why not tell us about your mask here? Haven’t taken a good look at it before. Maybe Uncle Don would like to hear it too.”

“You actually want me to talk about my mask?”

“Ain’t a problem, is it?”

“No.” He fidgeted with his fingers a bit. “You don’t have anything else to do?”

“We were just told to watch over you, kid.”

“Yeah, but everyone I know is always busy with the Kraang or supplying weapons. I never really get chances to hang out.”

There was a brief pause in the butane torch’s flame.

April’s expression softened. Her hand came up to brush his black hair. “Things have gotten calmer up there. So you’ve got plenty of time with us now.”

Casey smiled.

“So your mask?”

The boy alternated between covering his face and removing it. “(Mom / Dad) gave it to me. She told me it is based on the one worn by my biological mother. (Mom / Dad) also said that my birth mother was kind of crazy-funny and likes to be loud. She would have a stick to play– what was it– hockey?

I don’t know what kind of game hockey is supposed to be, but I guess it’s nice to know how life was like before all the Kraang.”

A sad smile crept on April’s lips.

“Anyways, I thought the mask looked kind of plain, so I decided to draw red marks on it. See?” Casey showed his mask off, fingers tapping the surface. “Guess who it looks like!”

There were two bold and thick streaks of red. Each one ran through one eye, truly a defining characteristic. The Commander chuckled, already imagining how much pride her friend in blue would feel from the fact a kid– let alone one he had been parenting– looked up to him so much.

“You know, I am seeing someone familiar here.” April hummed as she put on a thoughtful facade. Fingers holding her chin and everything. “Got to be Uncle Don.”

Named turtle paused for a moment and raised a brow.

“Seriously, Auntie April?” On the other hand, Casey gave her an incredulous look and shook his head. “You probably want to get your eyes checked out, ‘cause Uncle Don doesn’t have any red stripes.” Off to the side. “And even if he did, he won’t look as cool as Dad.”

April snickered behind her palm as Donnie eyed the boy from behind his goggles.

“You’re right, you’re right. Just messing with you, kid.” Her hand ruffled his hair once more. “Sounds like you really admire your Papa, don’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Dad has an awesome sword that opens up portals. He always moves so quickly whenever he’s fighting. Bam! And the Kraang’s gone!” The teenager stretched his arm for emphasis. “Even as the leader, Papa knows when to get serious and when to make people laugh. He also cares a lot about me, (Mom / Dad), you guys, and everyone!”

It made even Donnie himself smile.

However, the way Casey’s enthusiasm died down had not gone unnoticed. “I’ve always wanted to help out though.” He sighed, shoulders slumping. “I want to fight the Kraang right by his and (Mom / Dad)’s side. Except I barely get the chance to, because they keep telling me to stay close to base and hide behind a giant rock.”

April crossed her arms and went quiet. His feelings were nothing new. In fact, she experienced the same thing herself, seeing she had always been a human. It was like that until–.

“Have no hard feelings,” Donnie spoke up, his hands and eyes remained on his spheric gadget. The sparks were flying. “Your parents are merely worried about your well-being.”

“I know, I know. They won’t have to though, if I can have enough training or something.” Casey sighed. “Then again, I also know I’m only a normal sensitive human.

...Why can’t I be a mutant instead?”

“Ahem. You are classified as a human. That is a true statement and one you cannot change.” Donnie hummed. “However, that does not mean you cannot be strong and capable in other ways.”

“Why does it sound like you’ve been in my place before?”

“Perhaps I did. Did you truly think being a soft-shell turtle is easy? I happened to be born as one of the only Testudines species whose outer shell cannot protect.” Donnie remarked. “Casey, your mask.” His hand signaled.

“What about my mask?”

“I merely want to add something.”

Confused, he hopped off the chair and handed the mask over. “Hmm. As long as you don’t mess with the stripes, Uncle Don.”

“Who says I won’t?”

Casey kicked Donnie’s leg.

“‘Ow,’ I say sarcastically without feeling physical pain.”

“Hmph.” He crossed his arms. “Why do you keep saying things like that?”

“Such as?”

“You say those action verbs, even when you’re already doing them.”

April snorted. “Just his thing, kid. Uncle Don’s got his special quirks.”

“Do you have a quirk?”

“Picking unnecessary fights for one,” Donnie commented.

“You only call them ‘unnecessary,’ because you never want to fix the problem.”

He rolled his eyes. “My solution would’ve been ten times more efficient if you had allowed my technology and I to do the work.”

Casey wondered. “Does your tech ever go haywire, Uncle Don?”

“No.”

“Oh man,” April began, “you should’ve been there for this one time. Your Uncle Don was building some kind of overprotective bed to keep your late Gramps from waking up from his beauty sleep.”

“Gramps likes to sleep?”

“You’d be surprised to hear that he sure does.”

“Then what happened?”

“Uncle Don asked your Dad, Uncle Mikey, and Uncle Raph to try punching, slicing, throwing whatever they could on the bed. They were attacking it like crazy!”

“And then?”

“And the bed was even more insane, ‘cause there were actual missiles shooting out! They went straight for his brothers. At some point, it got overboard, so Uncle Don tried to command it to stop.”

“I’m hearing a ‘but’ coming.”

“But it malfunctioned and thought Uncle Don was the enemy!”

“However!” Donnie pointed his finger up, interrupting the story-telling. “It did not take long for my creation to recognize his master.”

“Still went haywire in my book,” April remarked.

“Ignoring that.” His robotic hand tapped the edge of his workbench, grabbing Casey’s attention. “Come here, young man.” He slid back the mask, except in his hands, it felt as if the frame had thicken.

“It looks the same, but it doesn’t feel the same?”

“Try wearing it over your face.”

The boy did as told. All of a sudden, a bunch of green rectangles and words appeared in his vision. He gasped in awe. He spun around slowly, watching the rectangle focus on a figure through the wall.

“Yes yes, I know. I am well aware of how amazing I am.” Donnie huffed in pride. “I have opted to construct an interface with your mask. I cannot see why you shouldn’t have something to defend yourself with,” he reasoned. “I have other updates in mind later on. As of now, however, your mask will help you detect life forms across other rooms or through other objects.”

“That’s so cool!” The boy hesitated though. “But I don’t want to break it or anything.”

“Hey.” April rested her hand on Casey’s shoulder, giving a firm squeeze. “Our resources are already scarce. Using then losing them is better than nothing. You better make the most of our tech. Understood, soldier?”

Casey grinned underneath his mask. He fixed his posture up and saluted. “Gotcha–! Understood, Commander!”

He faced the inventor, whose hands were already back to being occupied with the “sphere.” “Thanks so much, Uncle Don!” Casey exclaimed, leaping towards the turtle to give a tight hug. “You’re the best!”

Upon contact, Donnie stiffened up, but his lack of experience with physical touch did not prevent a smile forming on his face. He extended a robotic arm, patting Casey’s back.

The boy then scanned around curiously with his mask. “Hey! Think I spot Uncle Mikey and Uncle Raph two floors down! They’re holding hands over a table or something. Why are so many people circling around them?”

April rolled her eyes. “Sounds like another arm-wrestling match between the our youngest and oldest brother.”

Just like that, Casey booked it out of the laboratory so quickly, it reminded her of a certain red-eared slider. “What the–! Casey!” April groaned. “And here I thought we don’t have to deal with runaway kids. I better catch up to him.”

“Would not worry about him too much,” Donnie commented.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Considering we will not always be alive to protect him... the sooner we leave him to himself, the easier it will be for him to survive alone.”

“Hey. Come on now.” April walked to her best friend’s side. “Don’t you say things like that. We’re all going to survive this together–.”

“April.” Slight pain wavered in his voice. “You know as well as I do how our current reality is. It is only a matter of time before the Kraang finds everyone.”

“Yet you’re still here trying.”

No response.

“It’s all because of the kid, isn’t it?” April affirmed. “He ain’t any genius prodigy you were expecting long ago. But he gave you a reason to try– he became someone worth fighting for.”

“I would not put it as simply as that.”

She shrugged. “That’s how I’d say it. You know you’re not the only one whose life changed because of Casey.”

Donnie paused his work, turning off the butane torch and finally pulling his goggles off his eyes again. “...Casey reminds me of when we were young, being rash and immature teenagers like any other. I hate admitting to such thing, but I was one too. And I hate admitting much more how much I missed those times.

The child has known nothing of the trouble we’ve experienced outside, April: when Cassandra was killed, when Draxum was torn apart, when Dad decided to sacrifice himself despite the slim odds.” His hands clenched into fists.

“Do not expect me to have any false hope for our future, but do not assume I would want Casey to feel the same way. For as long as he can, I want him to hold onto that false hope.”

“...” April had her arms crossed. Her eyes slowly came to linger on the workbench. “Is that ‘sphere’ his false hope?”

“..No. Not his.” Donnie traced his thumb over his contraption. “It’s for (Name).”

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