#'you ruined a perfectly good soup is what you did! look at it! it's bubbling!'

[teatitty]

Lambert is so good at making potions and concoctions it's very normal for him to get jobs from healers and witches to help with mass orders or just to improve on certain recipes. His brothers, however, fucking suck at making their own shit and Lambert is always grousing and complaining and chewing them out for it whenever he comes across them

Eskel is so good with his signs he just doesn't see why making the potions is necessary and so never bothered to learn how to do it right without fucking up the measuring and Geralt is a "as long as it gets the job done it's fine" type of guy so he just won't take into account the taste or after-effects of them

You best believe after their Kaer Morhen winters Lambert always sends them off with a whole satchel full of "the proper ones" that he's made himself and if he happens across them on the Path the first thing he does is demand to check their supplies and while Geralt will at least have the correct ingredients Eskel is The Fucking Worst at remembering to stock

Lambert has barked at him about this many times over the years

[thebiscuiteternal]

Hi Biscuit, if you’re still taking things for the writing jam maybe the moment(s) you alluded to for Reverse Nies where young NMJ grew closer and began to care more for NHS?

Continuing from this bit.

---

Normally, he didn't mind winter. Even before the extremely recent formation of his core, he had always had a strong enough constitution not to be affected by every little change in the weather.

Unlike some people.

But sickness did occasionally worm its way in.

Like today, for example.

He had grumbled with all his almost-eight-year-old might against the orders for strict bed rest. He wasn't his- some people, he didn't need to be lying around when he had drills he should be doing instead.

Yet here he was.

All day.

Ugh.

---

Zhang Min swept into the room with lunch, a welcome distraction from the tedium of trying to do his calligraphy lessons despite the occasional fits of coughing.

When the tray was set in his lap, his eyes widened at the massive bowl of hulatang loaded with extra noodles and mushrooms and what smelled like roasted duck. "Thank you, Min-jie."

"I'll take the thanks for the medicinal additions, but you'll have to thank your brother for the soup."

Nie Mingjue put down the spoon he'd just picked up, a small scowl crossing his mouth. "Why?"

"He made it, of course," she said, then clicked her tongue when his scowl deepened. "Stop making that face. Sang-er is a perfectly capable cook."

"Since when?" Nie Mingjue asked derisively, picking up the spoon again and beginning to poke at the meat and vegetables. "He can't even hold a knife without collapsing. I bet he ruined it."

Now it was Zhang Min who was scowling, her hands on her hips. "Well, now. I wonder if I should take the soup back to the kitchens, since it's clearly nowhere up to gongzi's exacting standards. Or would you be so picky if you didn't know who made it?"

He hunched his shoulders and bit his tongue, refusing to admit out loud that she had a point, and stayed that way until the door closed behind her and he was alone again.

Cautiously -enough so that his father would have laughed and called him dramatic- he took a bite.

It... was really good.

Knowing now that Nie Huaisang cooked, he thought back to the tray full of dishes from his first day of training, the one he'd sent back without having taken even one bite.

Of a dozen or more other times he'd refused even the smallest offering because it was his stupid brother who had made them.

Suddenly the few spoonfuls he'd eaten while lost in his thoughts sat heavy in his stomach.

---

When he was finally allowed out of bed, he went straight to the kitchens.

Sure enough, Nie Huaisang was there, seated on a high stool and rolling out dough into little balls for dumplings. Even with the heat from the ovens and pot fires, he had a heavy shawl wrapped around his shoulders, and looked like he should have been the one spending the last four days in bed, not Nie Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue bit his lip, then straightened up and marched over to his brother. "Zhang Min told me you made the hulatang. And pretty much everything else I've eaten this week."

"Min-jie is a tattle-tale," Nie Huaisang replied with a casual roll of one shoulder, not even looking up from his work. "How are you feeling? Ready to get back to your normal routine? I bet your instructors will be glad to see you again."

Nie Mingjue scowled at his brother. "Why are you like this?"

Nie Huaisang finally turned his head. "Like what?"

"Like... this," Nie Mingjue said, a helpless sort of anger bubbling up in his chest. "You know I can't stand you, and you still- you still-"

Nie Huaisang regarded him with an undecipherable expression, then sighed and picked up a towel to wipe his hands. "You're hardly the only person here who doesn't like me. But you're the only one who's my brother. Does it have to be more complicated than that?"

He doesn't know how to respond. This conversation isn't going at all the way he'd planned while stuck in bed for days. He was just going to say a quick thanks for the soup and go back to normal, but now-!

After what feels like forever just staring at each other, Nie Huaisang gives him a small smile that makes his chest ache and his eyes sting. "Okay," he says quietly. "Okay. I didn't realize I was being that much of a bother. I'll back off."

Nie Mingjue makes a choked noise in the back of his throat and stumbles forward, burying his face into his brother's neck as he clutches at the older boy's robe.

"I don't want you to back off."

[samwritesforyou]

lantern rite with zhongli

zhongli x reader

summary: you stay in liyue and zhongli wants you to go to the lantern rite with him

warnings: gender-neutral reader

wordcount: 2.2k

A/N: its just zhongli brain rot, can we jsut live our mundane life w him forever??

you were wandering the lands of liyue for a significant amount of time already.

you would’ve usually just camped in the open like you used to do on your adventures in mondstadt - before the knights learned about this and generously offered you an apartment with no rent required - but ever since you mentioned this idea to a powerful god of geo zhongli, he wouldn’t hear of it.

“you are staying over at the wangsheng funeral parlour, y/n,” he said in a serious, low tone that made your stomach twist in ways that you didn’t yet understand.

“what do you mean? i can’t just stay there,” you said in return, brows furrowed.

“there are a few rooms behind the official wing that we use for business and actually me and hu tao live there, we do not have a conventional “home” anywhere,” he rationally explained and continued looking steadily into your eyes.

you never had a problem managing eye contact, but with his piercing amber orbs it was quite difficult.

“zhongli, i-“ you started, looking behind him at the open entrance to the balcony.

it was getting dark already, and even though you were used to camp life, you did notice that wild liyue was rather dangerous to rest at.

“only if you really don’t mind,” you stated with a sigh of defeat, closing your eyes and putting hands on your hips, “but i’ll pay.”

“dear y/n, i simply won’t allow it,” he said and you felt his gloved fingers on your chin and opened your eyes immediately, meeting with his.

a mysterious smile played on his lips, “you can just invite me to a meal, this form of payment will be sufficient,” when he saw a blush creeping up your face, he let go of you, standing straight again and clearing his throat, becoming flustered himself and looking away.

“alright,” was all that you could muster to answer in a higher tone than usual.

.

.

.

and there began an era of you living with hu tao and zhongli for the course of weeks that stretched into months as you tried to scout out the eternity of liuye’s landscape, hopelessly looking for your lost sibling.

most days you’d come back to your new home exhausted and just plop on the couch in front of the kitchen isle, already seeing some food left on the counter for your arrival.

you were never sure if it was hu tao’s making or zhongli’s, but that question was answered tonight, as you saw geo archon finishing up tonight’s dish - slow-cooked bamboo shoot soup - not even paying attention to your shuffling in the room.

you felt grateful yet a bit guilty that you made zhongli do something for you every day this late.. sometimes you wouldn’t return until the morning and even then you found a warm plate of breakfast on the counter.

you didn’t have much free time to get to know zhongli better, but even so you two have become an acquaintances of sorts. someone could even say.. friends.

a few times during your stay you were persuaded to take a break and took a few evening walks alongside rex lapis, your conversation making you feel at ease and understood.

if only you’d have more time to just.. do nothing, then you’d even..

you were staring at his broad back for quite a while already as he was cooking, no official costume present, just a simple comfortable shirt that gave you more of a feeling how home-y you have become with him.

it felt natural to come home and see him, either reading a book or just sliding the door to his room open to say a gentle “goodnight” or ask a few questions about your day.

you really liked him. you clicked as personalities, he was interesting, handsome-

“are you here?” you suddenly felt a gentle single tap on the top of your head, as zhongli’s voice brought you back to reality from your thoughts.

from the thoughts that you shouldn’t be having, because there’s no way that something would ever happen between the two of you.

so you shook your head and then smiled at him wearily.

“yeah. sorry, a long day,” you said silently and looked at two plates that were now sitting at the table.

“i wanted to dine with you tonight, is that alright?” he asked and looked up at you with his amber eyes.

“of course!” you nodded and then looked down at the table, “and thank you.. for always making food for me.”

“oh, it’s nothing. hu tao said that since you’re our guest i don’t have to worry about using more ingredients for food than we do usually,” he then began to eat.

as you dug in into your dish as well a comfortable silence has settled in the room.

it was always like this with him.

comfortable, safe.

you wondered how he’s gonna react when you tell him you’ll probably have to leave soon.

maybe it’s a good time to bring it up, even though it’ll ruin the moment of peace.

you mulled over the idea for a few minutes and couldn’t find any way of saying it the way you wanted it to sound, so you just started;

“uhm.. i think i’ll go back to mondstadt.”

ever so composed zhongli literally choked on his food and coughed a few times, steadying his posture once more, brows furrowing, not meeting your eyes.

“why so sudden?” he just asked simply.

“well… i don’t think i have any luck here.. and i’d love to move to the next region, but i wanted to talk it over with other knights beforehand, just to be safe,” you answered and sighed.

it’s not like you wanted to leave.

“that is a good choice indeed,” he stated, but you sensed that he wasn’t pleased by your “choice” at all, “but why won’t you stay just a few days longer?”

he finally finished up his food, gently patted his lips with a cloth and put it aside, now meeting your gaze.

“there is a lantern rite festival in the end of the week and..” seems like zhongli was trying to pick the right words, which was unusual of him, “i was hoping you’d accompany me.”

“oh,” you have heard about the event scarcely, but didn’t pay it any mind, knowing that you’d probably have no time to enjoy it anyways.

“your sibling is out there somewhere, i believe in it,” zhongli didn’t even let you speak, which was twice as unusual of him, as if he was already trying to persuade you even before hearing your verdict upon the matter, “and i wanted to offer you my help. i finally have no rites of parting to arrange and am quite free of any work that was holding me back before,” and as an afterthought he continued, “and i think you really deserve some rest, y/n. i’ve seen how hard you’ve been trying to find your sibling, help the adventurers guild.. it’s only natural and fair for you to take some rest and replenish your energy.”

you were frozen in place with a spoon half-risen to your mouth already, unable to tear your eyes from him as he finished his monologue.

you were used to him talking about the past events or fond memories for a long time, but it was never addressed directly at you.

so you just looked down and started intensely finishing up your soup, trying not to think about the way you’re probably blushing right now.

and once you did and looked back at zhongli, he was sitting composed in front of you, light smile resting on his lips.

“i’ll stay then,” you nodded and smiled at him back, his expression growing softer at your words.

“thank you,” he mirrored your nod and then took the dishes - even after your protests - and started cleaning them up himself.

.

.

.

you were so glad you decided to stay. last few days were filled with you just walking around the city and outskirts alongside zhongli as you were finally able to relax a bit and push a pressing matter of finding your sibling for a few days later.

the lantern rite day grew near and it was already happening in the evening. for some reason hu tao insisted of pampering you up and didn’t let zhongli see you until the event started.

“why are you like this?” you ask tiredly hu tao as she was helping you to put on a classic chinese dress that was worn both by men and women (and everyone in between) in this festive time.

“you think i don’t see how you’re staring at each other?” she giggled as she started rummaging through her hair pins that would look good on you.

“each other?!” you yelped in confusion, only to be met with a flustered reflection of yourself in a mirror in front of you, so you dropped your shoulders and sighed, lowering your gaze, “if anything, it’s only me who’s staring, hu tao..”

“ha!” the laugh was more similar to a bark as she reacted to your words and soon enough appeared next to you, putting a pin to your bangs, adding your hair a little decorative twist, “that’s what you think.”

you didn’t have any time to protest to that, because you heard a knock on the door and hu tao yelled “don’t you dare come in, old man!” right back.

“i just wanted to inform you two that the festival has already begun,” said a calm muffled voice outside and you found yourself smiling at that.

“okay, we’re almost done!” said hu tao and finally helped you stand up, letting you look at yourself in the mirror.

you really looked exceptional tonight and couldn’t hold your positive emotions bubbling inside of you.

“thank you,” you said to hu tao and hugged her tightly.

she just giggled and murmured something along the lines of “don’t mention it” and went with you out of the room, straight onto the balcony in front of the wangsheng funeral parlour.

your eyes found zhongli immediately as he turned and looked at you.

he gave a polite nod to his friend and then his amber orbs drifted to you and his expression broke into something way softer than you’ve ever witnessed before.

only after a while you realised that your festival dresses were matching. yours was just in lighter, yellow tones, whereas his was in dark brown ones. it complemented each other perfectly.

.

.

.

you didn’t really notice how it happened, but you two ended up alone, just walking on the outskirts of liyue harbour, after participating in many festival activities.

you were standing on the hidden viewpoint where you could see the whole city, beautifully lit up, yet where you were standing there were scarcely any lamps, so the atmosphere was dim and comfortable.

zhongli was the first one to break the pleasant silence between the two of you.

“i dont want to be straightforward,” he started as he stood next to you, his hand on the railing of the balcony, “but i’m afraid i just have to share my feelings with you, y/n.”

you looked up at him, question in your eyes.

could it be?..

“i don’t usually take interest in humans, but.. it’s safe to say you drew me in and left me enchanted,” words were rolling off his tongue effortlessly, “by your driven heart, pure intentions and determination,” he paused a little and then chuckled to himself, “kind of remind me of myself, back in the day.”

with his free hand he reached out to yours, and took it in his palm, squeezing a little;

“i’m not immune to human weaknesses either.

and my guess is that i’m certainly not immune to your charm.”

he then brought your hand to his lips and gave it a light kiss, eyes trained on you.

“so if you accept me, then i’d be happy to court and protect you,” he finished his speech more quietly than he began and now was just politely waiting for your response.

for the rest of your life, if you allow me; he thought to himself, but these kinds of words are still too heavy for you to bear, he settles and doesnt say the rest of his initial sentence.

he came to accept that his lovers will come and go, since he is an immortal being, but it won’t stop him from giving his all to his loved ones.

“zhongli..” you said with trembling lips, as you tried your hardest not to cry.

you were falling in love with him slowly day by day, not even realising it and you’d never even think of him reciprocating your feelings and now it simply feels too overwhelming. in a good way, of course.

“is that a yes?” he squeezed your hand once more, his smile growing wider and eyes softer.

“of course,” you sniffed and pushed yourself into his embrace, not willing to let him see you cry, at least not yet.

you felt his heartbeat in your hug and you swear you never wanted to let go anymore.

“thank you,” he said gently and you felt his lips pressing to the top of your head.

you really chose the best man to fall in love with. ////// if you wanna be added to my genshin (or any other fandom) tag list then please either comment or dm me! also my requests are open so feel free to text me that as well, if you’d like <3

[yikesharringrove]

Billy has no fucking clue what he’s doing right now.

He’s never taken care of a sick person before.

And he’s not exactly the nurturing type. Not like Steve is.

But Steve is fucking sick.

And Billy doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“Can you check if I have a fever?”

“Uh, I don’t-”

“Just like, feel my face. See if it’s hot.”

Billy raised one hand tentatively, slapping his palm down onto Steve’s forehead.

Steve grunted, sighing dramatically.

“Uh, I can’t tell.”

“Use the back of your hand, numb nuts.”

Billy let go of Steve’s head, pressing the back of his hand gently instead.

“You feel, kinda warm?” Steve glared at him. “I don’t know! I don’t have a reference to how warm your forehead typically is.”

“Feel your own or something!”

Billy just about hit himself in the nose feeling his own temperature.

“I guess you’re warmer than I am?”

Steve rolled his eyes, flopping back into bed.

Billy just kinda stared at him.

He wanted to help, but he genuinely doesn’t know how.

“Can I get you something to eat?” Isn’t soup like, the thing for a sick person?

“I think there’s some chicken noodle in the bottom pantry.” Steve was now giving him the sweet doe eyes. Although the effect was undercut by how glassy they looked and his red runny nose.

“Okay. Um, how do I make it.”

Steve stared at him.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Soup. How do I make it?” Billy was never allowed in the kitchen growing up. Cooking is a woman’s job in his dad’s eyes, and if Billy even offered to help Susan, or one of the girlfriends before her, Neil would be breathing down his neck and calling him a fairy.

“So, uh, open the can. And pour the soup into a pot, adding one can full of water to the soup. And then just like, wait until it’s hot.”

“But, there’s chicken in it. Doesn’t that need to cook?”

Steve blinked at him a few times.

“The chicken’s already cooked, Bill. You just gotta make the broth hot.”

Billy nodded curtly. Determined.

This would be easy.

It was not easy.

First of all, he had no fucking idea how to use the can opener.

The Harrington’s had this fucking electric one. Because using a handheld can opener was somehow a hassle.

In the end, he gave up pressing random buttons and stabbed the top of the can with a knife a few times, leaving long gashes he clumsily connected.

He swore loudly when the shape he had cut out of the top immediately fell into the soup.

But he poured it into the pot, fishing out the lid in there.

He added the water like Steve said, and stared at the stove dials.

Is this, like, a medium job? Billy feels like he’s heard that. Maybe in one of Susan’s cooking shows. Over a medium heat....

Why not?

He cranked the dial to medium and hoisted himself up to sit on the counter, staring into the pot.

He was gonna do this right. Gonna take care of his sick little Steve if it fucking killed him.

He was gonna heat the soup perfectly, not burn it, bring it to Steve and maybe even feed it to him.

Wait, can soup burn? Because hot water just evaporates, and this soup is at least 50% water, with the can full Billy added. So, the broth evaporates and the stuff in it burns? Or can broth burn, too?

He glanced back down at it, startling at the now bubbling soup in the pot.

Bubbling’s good, though. Like boiling. Right?

He found a wooden spoon in a narrow drawer next to the stove, giving the soup a few stirs.

He should make sure it’s hot.

He stared at it some more.

He can’t just like, put his finger in there.

Should he assume it’s hot enough? What with the bubbling action and all.

But is the chicken hot?

He fished a piece of chicken out with his wooden spoon, blowing on it once before popping it into his mouth.

Oh, fuck.

Yeah, the chicken’s hot.

The chicken’s fucking scalding.

He turned off the stove and found the bowls after testing three different cabinets, locating the spoons after what felt like an hour.

He painstakingly ladled soup into the bowl with the small spoon, fighting the urge to bang his head against the wall when he remembered seeing a ladle in the drawer with the wooden spoon.

And when he deemed the bowl finally full, he carried it up to Steve as carefully as he could.

Steve smiled brightly at him.

“I could hear you banging around and swearing down there. Thought maybe you started a fire.”

“Nope. Just made this for you. What the fuck is up with your can opener? You really too good for one ‘a those handheld ones?”

Steve laughed, accepting the hot bowl and setting it on the breakfast-in-bed tray in front of him.

“There’s one of those in the drawer with the peelers and baster and stuff. But I assume you got is working?”

Billy thought of the knife he no doubt ruined.

“Yeah. Got it working.”

Steve ate the first bite, blowing on it carefully.

“You did a good job.”

Something warm fluttered in Billy’s gut.

“Yeah? It taste good?”

Steve gave him an odd look.

“Did you do something weird to it?”

“No. Just. Never cooked before. Wanted to get it right.”

And Steve went all ooey gooey. The way he does when Billy says something that make his cheeks go hot. Something a little to close to the vest.

“Well, you did. Thank you.” He took another bite. “But I can’t believe you’ve never even made soup before.”

“Neil says cooking is women’s work.”

“Neil can choke on a fat one.”

Billy laughed at Steve’s petulant face, the snot running down from his nose.

“Nah. Don’t think he deserves the pleasure of sucking a dick.”

“Then he can choke on something stupid. A rock. Or like, his own vomit or something.”

“Big talk from a guy that looks ready to hurl.”

Steve sniffed deeply, snorting up his own snot.

“That was fucking gross, Stevie.”

“Leave me alone if you’re just gonna be fucking rude. I’m sick. I deserve compassion.”

“And I made you goddamn soup. If that’s not compassion I don’t know what the fuck is.”

“It’s basic cooking, you asshole. That’s what.” Steve blew on another spoonful of soup, slurping up a few noodles with his bite.

Billy still didn’t know what the fuck he was doing here.

“So, uh, I can do something else? That would make you feel better?”

Steve gave him the gooey look again, the tip of his nose bright red from scrubbing at it with the tissues litering the bed.

“Just stay with me? I was gonna take some medicine,” he gestured to the bottle of dark green liquid on the nightstand, “and it’ll knock my ass out, if you wanna nap with me. Or you could leave, I don’t wanna keep you-”

Steve trailed off as Billy stood up, wiggling out of his tight jeans, stealing a pair of Steve’s gym shorts from the dirty laundry hamper in the corner. He tossed his shirt on the floor, sliding under the covers with Steve.

“So, nap time?”

“Just let me finish this gourmet ass soup and I’ll be right with you.”

[elizabethemerald]

Cinderella Runs Away

Cinderella sobbed against the stone bench. Her once beautiful dress was torn to ribbons. Her step mother and sisters had departed for the ball and she was left alone with the house that had once been her father's. 

As she sat and cried a shiver ran up her spine and she could feel a hand rubbing softly at her back. 

"There, there my dear." A kindly voice said. 

Cinderella sat back in shock. 

"What-? Who-? Who are you?"

"Well I'm your fairy God mother!" The woman said with a cheery smile. 

"My- I have a fairy Godmother?"

"Of course my dear. Everyone has fairy godmothers.  I'm so sorry your dress was destroyed, but don't worry, with just a bit of magic I can give you the most perfect night at the Ball!"

Cinderella stood up and stepped away from where the older woman was sitting. 

"You have magic, and you're my fairy godmother, so you can use your magic to help me?"

"I certainly can. Now let's get this dress fixed up so you can enjoy the Ball and maybe meet your prince!"

"I can't believe this!" Cinderella put her hand to her forehead.  

"Its true! Now where did I put my wand?"

"I can't believe this!" Cinderella said again. "No. I can't believe you!"

Her fairy godmother froze as she was looking for her wand. She could only stare at Cinderella's rising horror and anger. 

"You could have helped me at any point! You could have stopped them from hurting me. You could have stopped my father from marrying my step mother." 

She turned away, marching closer to the fountain, shaking lightly in rage. A rat climbed out of her ruined blouse to nuzzle at her cheek. She idly scratched the rat’s chin before turning back to face her godmother. 

"I've been treated as a slave in my own home. I've been beaten and starved. And the first I hear of you is when I don't get to take a night off to go to some silly dance? The first thing you offer to fix is some pointless dress?"

Tears were rolling in waves down her face. Another rat climbed up the back of her tattered dress to sit on her other shoulder. 

"I'm sorry my dear, there are limits-"

"I don't want to hear about your limits!" Cinderella shouted. "If you can't help me, I don't want to see you."

Her fairy godmother watched her, sadness in her eyes. She gave a small sigh. 

"Name your wish child, and if it is within my power to grant it, I will."

"I just...wish I could disappear." Cinderella whispered, wiping tears from her cheeks. The fairy sat back startled. 

"You should be careful making wishes like that. There are some fey who would take you at your word."

"I want to leave. To run away as far as I can until I never have to be afraid of my step mother again."

"You would leave your home? Your father's lands?"

"What do I care for lands? This hasn't been my home for years."

"Very well my dear."

The fairy drew her wand from the empty air. She flicked it through the air leaving a trail of sparks and glitter. 

"Bibbity bobbity boo."

With those magic words Cinderella's tattered dress changed and shifted into an elegant riding dress for a fine lady. Fine riding boots with glass beading formed with the dress. 

"May I borrow one of your little friends?" The fairy asked, putting out her hand out for one of the rats of Cinderella's shoulders. "They will be perfectly safe, and once the spell is over they will return to their previous form."

Cinderella grimaced but took one of the rats from her shoulder and handed it to the fairy. 

"Its ok Jasper." She said to the rat. 

With another spell Jasper's body changed and grew until a horse with a woman's saddle stood before her. With a final flick of her wand the fairy pulled a small pouch out of the air. When she passed it to Cinderella it clincked. 

"You have until the stroke of midnight to ride as far as you can. On the twelfth chime everything will return to how it was except for this pouch of silver.” Cinderella took the bridle from the fairy and turned away. “Best of luck child.”

Like a popping bubble Cinderella’s fairy godmother disappeared in a shower of glitter. Cinderella cast one last glance at the house that had once been her home. Then turned away. 

“Alright Jasper, let’s see what you can do as a horse.” She looked at the saddle for a moment before rolling her eyes. “Side saddle.”

It took her longer to get situated on the horse than she would have preferred, it had been  a long time since she had ridden side saddle. However soon enough she was able to encourage Jasper into a trot. She set off without another backward glance. There was nothing left her for in that house. 

She and Jasper rode on through the night. In the distance she could see the lights of the castle. She had wanted and dreamed of going to the ball for months. But she had wanted to escape her step mother for years. The Ball would have been a nice reprieve from her constant work load, and the constant nagging of her step siblings. Now she had a permanent reprieve. 

Soon she was outside the city. She rested Jasper when she could, but she needed to get farther if she wanted any real chance of this escape working. She kept pushing him through the rolling hills of the country side passing another small town. 

She was just outside that small town when she heard the first chime of a clock tower. She dismounted immediately and walked alongside the horse as the last of the chimes sounded. She released the bridle as it shimmered in her hand. 

Jasper shrank back to regular rat size and the rest of the finery disappeared into sparks and glitter. She picked up the rat and slipped him into her pocket. 

“Go ahead and rest Jasper. You’ve earned it.” 

She looked over herself closely. The finery the fairy had created had all returned to its previous tattered state. She was surprised to find that neither the pouch of silver or the glass beaded boots had disappeared. She didn’t quite trust the fairy not to take these away too, but either way, she still had farther she needed to go. 

Her step mother and sisters wouldn’t be home from the ball until late and probably wouldn’t rise until well into the day. With any luck her step mother wouldn’t find out she was missing until midday. And she wouldn’t even know which way to look. Cinderella smiled to herself and walked on with purpose. 

She nudged her other pocket, the one not containing the sleeping Jasper. Another rat stuck its head out of the pocket. She scooped it up and put it on her shoulder. 

“Come on Ratsputin I need you to help me keep an eye out. I don’t want to be surprised by highwaymen. That would make for quick end to my escape.” 

Ratsputin climbed nimbly up her hair to perch on the top of her head. She could tell by small shifts in his movements that he was looking around and sniffing the air, keeping a close ear on their surroundings. 

Dawn found her trudging into another small town. She knew she was now miles and miles away from her home. She had some time, and since she didn’t trust the fey silver she had some purchases to make. The first thing she searched for was an inn, she was desperately tired and knew she would need a good night’s sleep eventually if she was going to keep traveling. 

She entered under the sign of a goose in a top hat. The inside of the inn was small, a little crummy, but warm. She stepped up to the innkeep, trying to keep the exhaustion out of her face. 

“Have you any rooms available?” She asked. 

“I may.” The innkeep gave her a stern look from the rat sitting on her head to her tattered and worn dress. “However I don’t give charity.”

“I have coin.” Cinderella looked down at herself. “I may have fallen on a bit of hard luck recently.”

The man raised an eyebrow as if he was considering her story. 

“Two silver a night.”

A few quick calculations in her head, put this price as a bit high for the quality of inn this was, but she did have the coin and if the silver disappeared from her purse tomorrow it wouldn’t do her any good. She handed over the silvers. She scowled as the inn keep inspected each silver to make sure they were real. 

“Very well. Name?”

“Pardon?” 

“Name. For the room?”

“Uhh.” Her mind blanked for a moment. She couldn’t use Cinderella here. If her stepmother came looking for her that would leave a clear trail for her to follow. “Ember. My name is Ember.”

Again the man looked like he didn’t believe her. He held out the key for her room, but kept a tight grip on it for a moment. 

“You on the run from the law?” 

She stepped back in surprise, shock on her face. 

“N-no! It’s my stepmothe-” She clapped her mouth shut as he put up a hand, doing her best not to flinch. 

“More than I need to know. As long as you are not on the run from the law.” He handed over the key. Then pointed at the rat that was still perched on her head watching the interaction closely. “Keep an eye on that thing. If I catch it in the kitchen its going in the soup.”

“Yessir.” Cinderella took the key and turned for the stairs. She paused before she took the first step. “I need to make some purchases before I leave town. Might I ask directions to some local sellers?”

That evening found her in her room in the Inn. Her back ached, and she was so tired she couldn’t see straight anymore. Still she smiled. She had replaced her tattered clothes with sensible travel clothes. Including trousers. Nothing like what the fairy had created for her, at least this way she wasn’t asking to be robbed as soon as she left town. With her trousers, over coat and her hair tucked into the wide flat hat she bought, she would look like a man until someone saw her face up close. 

In addition she had purchased a real horse and riding tack, some hardy travel food, and a dagger to defend herself. Now she had only a few coppers left to her name, but now she didn’t have to worry about the fey silver disappearing. She had also purchased a pair of simple walking shoes, for whatever reason her glass boots hadn’t disappeared with the rest of her grand outfit, but she wanted to be prepared for when they do. 

She slept better that night in the uncomfortable bed than she had in years in either her tower or in front of the kitchen hearth. She was free of her step mother, free of her step sisters, free of their cruelty. Free to be herself, free to make herself a new person. Ember. She liked that name. Maybe she could keep it.

[webrokethe4thwall]

Venus in the City

A request from @rottmntrulesall for their Little Sister Venus AU. I highly recommend you check their blog out!

After begging and pleading with Splinter, the Turtles and April had finally convinced him to let them take Venus for a ride in the Turtle Tank. Venus fussed only a little as Donnie strapped her into a car seat that he had made especially for her before squealing in delight as the tank roared into life. Her older siblings smiled fondly at the happy noises she made.

“You like that, Venus?” Raph asked, carefully driving through traffic. “You like riding in the Turtle Tank?”

“Yeah!” April cheered in a high pitched voice, waving both of Venus’s arms in the air and pulling a giggle out of the Indian Tent turtle.

Venus’s eyes shone happily. The buildings were moving so fast, and her chair would bump and rattle in the most fun way! This was great!

“Wait, was that—” Donnie started as he squinted out the window.

Suddenly, the Turtle tank swerved as the Foot Lieutenant, Foot Brute, and Foot Recruit landed on the hood.

“Turtles!” Foot Lieutenant rasped. “Prepare for defeat!”

“Oh, come on!” Leo groaned. “Can’t we go for one drive without some bozos ruining everything? How’re we gonna deal with these guys with Venus here?!”

“Like this!” Donnie flipped a switch, and Venus was pulled into the back of the tank and encased by a clear dome. “That bubble is made of a highly damage-resistant material that will keep Venus safe while we deal with these jerks.”

“Don’t worry, Venus,” Mikey comforted the confused baby as their siblings rushed out of the tank. “We’ll be back soon. Just sit tight!”

And like that, Venus was alone in a bubble in the Turtle Tank as the teenagers battled the Foot Clan just out of her sight. The baby chewed on her teal ribbon tail for a little while before growing bored. Venus didn’t want to be in her chair anymore. She wanted out!

A moment later, Venus felt herself slipping free of her car seat, out of the bubble, and through the Turtle Tank’s floor. Her brothers and sister were still in heavy combat though, and the baby didn’t like how loud they were being. Closing her eyes and crawling forward, Venus slipped through dimensions to get to someplace quieter until her siblings were done fighting.

“That didn’t take very long at all,” April said as she and the Turtles climbed back into the Turtle Tank.

“I guess they didn’t restock their paper from the last time we fought them,” Raph gloated, hefting himself back into the driver’s chair.

“Let me put Venus back in her spot, then we can get rolling again,” Donnie said. Flipping another switch, the protective bubble pulled away, and the car seat returned to its original position. “Ready to go, Ve-ven-oooh, boy.”

When they all saw the empty car seat, their stress levels skyrocketed, but it could’ve just been Venus messing with them. April swiped her hand through the air just to be sure. They all shared a look and started freaking out.

“Where did Venus go?!” Mikey screamed. “She’s just a baby! What’s going to happen to our sister?!”

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“Where’d yous come from?” Venus blinked her eyes open to find Repo-Mantis staring down at her. She had traveled all the way to the junkyard. “You lost or somethin’, kid? I’m not a fan of turtles runnin’ around my junkyard.”

“Baah! Puh!” Venus babbled, crawling between Repo’s legs and disappearing further into the junkyard.

“Where d’ya think your off’ta?” Repo asked, ducking to follow the baby turtle’s travel. But she was gone. She had literally disappeared. “Wha?”

Not wanting a baby mutant wandering around his place of business, Repo went to look for her. He soon found her in his electromagnet. She managed to swing the heavy machine to hang over the school bus plugging Mrs. Nubbins’ den.

“Wait, no, no, no, no!” Repo shouted, rushing towards Venus. “Not that scrapheap, kid! Stop!” Too late. The bus pulled free, and the cat-mantis was unleashed. Repo immediately about-faced and ran away from his beloved pet.

Growing bored of the purple bugman and the machinery, Venus slipped out of the electromagnet and crawled out of the junkyard. She quickly caught wind of something that smelled delicious! A yellow van topped with a T-bone steak was parked across the street. What was over there that smelled so good?

“My, my, what have we here?” Venus was lifted up by metal hands that brought her face-to-face with a smug Meat Sweats. “You’re just the ingredient I needed for my latest recipe! How fortuitous for me.”

He plopped the baby turtle into the broth heating up on the stovetop, scrapped in some chopped up veggies, and sorted out the seasonings that would “unleash the flavor” within Venus. The Indian tent turtle gurgled delightedly in what she thought was tasty-smelling bathwater. She munched on a carrot piece, splashing in the broth, when pepper suddenly dusted her snout.

“That should do it,” Meat Sweats said. As he cleared away his spices, he noticed Venus scrunching up her face. “What’s that look for? My seasoning is perfectly balanced.”

He drew closer to the pot just as Venus unleashed a powerful sneeze. The sneeze was followed by spikes shooting out of her shell, flying all over the food truck’s kitchen. Meat Sweats squealed in horror. He knocked the pan off the stovetop and out of his truck, baby turtle and all, as the spikes pinned him by his apron to the cabinets.

“Oh, rubbish,” Meat Sweats grumbled.

Venus continued to chew on the veggies remained in the pot with her after the tumble when the she was lifted up once again. This time it was orange crab pinchers that carried her into an alleyway. So many new people in one night!

“Hey, Carl, check it out! It’s one of those turtle mutants that we hate, but littler!” The crabman without pinched Venus’s cheeks. She whined in displeasure and swatted his pincher away. “This one would be way easier to eat, and she’s already in some soup!”

The crabman with hair poked Venus’s cheek and felt his heart melt like butter when she sucked on his claw. “Pass, Ben. That’d be messed up. Maybe if she was bigger.”

“Bah?” Venus questioned, releasing the claw from her jaws. Bigger? What did that “bigger” mean? Steadily, the pot she was sitting in started getting tighter. Venus’s line of sight climbed, higher than when she sat on Raph’s head! The crabmen seemed to begin to panic. The baby turtle giggled and clapped her hands as the crabmen did a silly dance in front of her.

“This is not what I meant!” Carl shouted, swinging his arms wildly as the baby turtle quickly grew to double his and his brother’s size. Ben and Carl ran in wild circles for a moment before crashing into each other hard. The shock from the impact and panic from the giant infant knocked the duo unconscious.

Venus stared at the still crabmen before shrinking down to her normal size. They weren’t doing much more than breathe at this point, and the Indian tent turtle wanted something more entertaining than that. She crawled away and soon heard the laughter of children at a playground. All those colors and kids looked fun! Venus was all set to join them when something flopped onto her head and over her eyes.

“Turtle! Prepare to taste defeat at the hands of your greatest foe, Warren Stone!” The long pink thing in a purple jacket rolled into a dramatic offensive pose before the Indian tent turtle. “I won’t hold back just because you’re a ba-argh!”

Venus gripped the worm mutant by his throat and pulled his stretchy body as far as she could. This was a great toy! She whipped Warren around like a lasso and laughed brightly at the way he yelled. He made really funny noises, too! A white dove then flew into Venus’s line of sight and made her think of the cartoons she and Mikey would watch where birds would flock around the worm and beat them up. Attention drawn away, the baby mutant dropped the mutant in her hands and followed the dove.

“Where are you going?!” Warren shouted after her. “I’m not done with you yet!” He was then surrounded by a flock of large pigeons that had materialized out of thin air. “Or maybe I am.” The flock proceeded to attack the worm mutant. “Aaagh!”

Venus followed the dove for a few blocks, watching it land on the broad purple shoulder of Hypno-Potamus.

“There you are! Back in the hat you go,” Hypno said. He placed the dove back in his magic hat, poofing the accessory away, and caught sight of the baby turtle. She clapped at the sight of the hat disappearing, eyes wide with wonder. “You like that trick, little lady? Wait a tic, where is your family?” He glanced up and down the empty street then shrugged. “How about a little magic show until they come along?”

At the baby’s impartial gurgling, Hypno started performing tricks for Venus. She was delighted by the multicolor hanky rope the magic hippo pulled out of nowhere. Hypno clapped his hands together, and the hanky rope had transformed into a rainbow of cards floating between his palms as he drew them apart. Hypno flinched back at how high-pitched Venus’s surprised shriek was.

Where’d the rope go?! How’d the cards fly in the air like that? Was he magic like Leo and his portals? Was she magic? She looked at her own hands, clapped them together, and opened them herself. Cards floated between her palms, just like Hypno! She was magic!

“How’d you do that?” Hypno asked, just as surprised as Venus. He smirked and snapped his cards away. “Let’s see you copy this then!” He conjured up his top hat once more, and doves rocketed out from its depths.

Venus unleashed amazed laughter. Her cards disappeared as she waved her hands towards the birds flying up into the air. However, her happiness turned to fear once the flock of doves changed directions and flew straight at the baby turtle. Scared and confused, Venus screamed at the doves and the unfortunate magic hippo behind them as well.

“Argh!” Hypno cried out. He pressed his hands onto his ears, but the baby turtle’s scream was too strong. He squeezed his eyes shut against the birds that swarmed past him, missing Venus scramble away. All he was left with was ringing ears and a sense of confusion.

Venus blinked around tearfully at the fancy hotel she somehow entered. She crawled around the front desk and sat down. She liked birds, but those had gotten way too close way too fast.

“Hey, who’s kid is this?” A bellhop asked as he rounded the desk. “She doesn’t have a cloaking broach.”

“Take her to the yokai floors,” another bellhop said. He sniffed the air around her. “And see that she gets cleaned up. She must’ve gotten into the kitchen and lost her broach somewhere along the way if her scent is anything to go by.”

“All right, little one, let’s go.”

Venus let the bellhop carry her into the elevator and was happy to get a bath for once. The broth from earlier was starting to make her scales itch. She also liked the gentle attention the funny creatures in the red suits gave her. They were almost as good as her big brothers and big sister!

“Oh, she’s so pretty in that shade of teal!” The octopus yokai who had given her a bath said, carefully bouncing her in front of the other bellhops.

“Is she one of our guests?” A fox yokai bellhop asked, letting Venus fiddle with his hand. “I don’t recall any turtle yokai staying with us. And that mask kinda reminds me of those other turtles who keep breaking in.”

“What seems to be the piddly-problem here?” A sickeningly sweet asked from behind employees.

“Big Mama!” The octopus yokai spun to face the powerful spider yokai. “We seem to have a lost guest in our midst!”

Big Mama bent down to get a better look at Venus. She was stare was intense and unwavering. The yokai holding the baby and the bellhop were starting to sweat from how long Big Mama was locking eyes with the Indian tent turtle. Then, the disguised spider yokai squealed in delight, sweeping Venus into her arms and cuddling the baby close.

“Oh, what a splendiferously precious, teedly tiny turtlely-boo!” Big Mama cooed, rubbing her cheek against Venus’s. Venus laughed as Big Mama’s hair tickled her neck. “Such sprinkly-sparkly eyes! A fantampulous giggle as lovely as her ribbon!” She pulled back and considered the child in her arms once more. “Come! Big Mama will take care of you.”

Venus burbled contentedly in the purple lady’s arms. She reminded the baby of her daddy with how she talked.

“But Big Mama, what about her family?” the bellhop asked. “Won’t they be worried about her?”

Big Mama gave the bellhop a scathing look. “If her family truly loved her, she wouldn’t be lost and causing such a fizzywinkle among my on-the-clock employees! I shall deal with this doodlie-bug’s family if they ever show up.”

Venus chewed at the end of Big Mama’s cravat, watching the other yokai shrink away from the pretty purple lady. She must’ve been tough like April and Donnie for everyone to be so scared of her. Venus loved how much attention this “Big Mama” was giving her, but she was starting to want her brothers, sister, and father the longer the lady held her. Maybe everyone was done being loud by now? She should go back to her car seat. Venus started fussing and struggling to get to the floor.

“Oh, what’s wrong, cutie-doodle?” Big Mama asked. “Don’t fuss.”

When Big Mama lifted her higher and started walking away from the other yokai, Venus began to struggle in earnest. She didn’t want to be in this fancy building anymore! She wanted her family! Put her down! She slipped, quite literally, through Big Mama’s fingers and crawled as fast as she could towards the elevator.

“What?!” Big Mama shrieked. “Catch her!”

Suddenly, bellhops galore blocked Venus’s path. The baby didn’t stop for a second before she was crawling up the walls and onto the ceiling. All of the bellhops stared up in shock at her. However, the owl bellhop shook off his surprise, leapt up, and pulled the baby mutant into his arms. The unfortunate bellhop soon found his hands full of many Venus’s piling one on top of the other until he toppled over. Each bellhop and even Big Mama caught a duplicate before she hit the ground.

“Well,” Big Mama said, obviously ruffled. “That was unexpected. Are you quite done, turtle-boo?”

That’s when the acid vomit started shooting out of every Venus’s mouth.

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“Why doesn’t she have a tracker on her?” Leo yelled at Donnie. “You put a tracker on everything.”

“I wanted to!” Donnie yelled back. “But you all thought it was too extreme to put a tracker on a five-month-old!”

“Since when did you listen to us about where to put your trackers?!” Raph yelled.

This fighting was getting them nowhere. The Turtle Tank tore through the streets as the worried siblings searched for their missing little sister. They had chased of the Foot after five minutes max of combat. They had locked the tank door. Where could Venus have gone? Who could’ve been able to take her?! If it hadn’t been for sporadic dust clouds shooting up from Repo-Mantis’s Junkyard, they wouldn’t have had a clue where to start.

“Return our sister, you fiend!” Mikey demanded.

His family jumped out of the tank, armed and ready, only to see Repo dodging and running away from Mrs. Nubbins. Well… they weren’t expecting that. Repo was pretty good at keeping his beloved murder cat contained.

“Do we help him?” Leo asked slowly.

“No,” Donnie said. “This is a waste of time!”

“He might know something about Venus, though,” April countered.

“Alright, Mad Dogs,” Raph said. “Get that cat-mantis!”

One determined sibling fight later, Repo found himself on the business end of Leo’s odachi.

“Hey, bug-man,” Leo greeted. “You see a baby turtle mutant pass by?”

“That little thing was with yous guys?!” Repo yelled.

“And don’t even think about lyin—what?” Donnie asked. “You’ve seen our baby sister?!”

“Yeah,” Repo said, head lulled back. He may as well tell the kids what they wanted; they had saved his life after all. “She must’ve crawled off after letting Mrs. Nubbins out a minute ago. Came outta nowhere, that kid. Left outta nowhere, too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” April demanded.

Muffled shouting from across the street drew the teenagers’ attention away from Repo, who took this opportunity to slip away. With their initial target gone, they went to investigate where the shouts had come from. April was the first to see the familiar food truck parked across the street. Something pointy stuck out at several spots on the outside of the truck.

“Meat Sweats!” she yelled, throwing the ajar backdoor open wide.

“Not you lot!” Meat Sweats groaned from where he hung on the wall. “One turtle disaster was enough!”

“Give us our sister!” Raph said, pulling the pig mutant free and dangling him in the air.

“That little terror is your sister?!” Meat Sweats roared. “Does the big one here shoot spikes, too?!”

“What? No,” Raph denied, lifting Meat Sweats higher. “Where’s our sister?”

“I threw her out, pot and all, when the spikes came flying at me,” Meat Sweats explained.

“We’re coming, Venus!” Leo yelled, tearing out of the food truck with his other siblings as Raph continued to hold Meat Sweats.

“Stop. Trying. To eat. My. Family!” Raph snarled in the pig mutants face before going to join the others.

Leo and Donnie were on the rooftops, looking in every direction for a hint of teal of their bubbly baby sister; Mikey and April scourged the alleys and streets for signs of Venus; and Raph patrolled in the Turtle Tank. A few moments later, the three groups converged where scraps of metal and two mutant crabmen lay uselessly in an alleyway.

Donnie prodded the mutants with his tech bo, saying, “What happened to you guys? Wait. Let me guess—you found a little turtle and she beat you up?”

The crabman with hair opened one eyestalk, saw the frustrated and near-feral teenagers looming over him and his brother, and shook his head.

“No, she got big, and my bro and I freaked out so much we knocked each other out. I thought she was gonna eat us.”

“Okay.” Donnie crouched down to look the crabman in the eyes. “First of all, she’s just a baby. Worst thing she can do to you right now is bite your exoskeletons. Second, where is she?” The crabman without hair raised a claw and wordlessly pointed towards the park across the street. “Thank you, gentlemen. You will not be eviscerated today.”

The Sando brothers cowered away from the determined children and slunk into the sewers as they crossed the street. The park was empty at the moment, so April wasn’t worried about anyone seeing the giant mutant turtles wadding through the bushes.

“Venus!” April and the others called in intervals, tearing the park upside down for their baby. “C’mon sis, where are you?”

“You guys looking for a baby turtle?” Warren Stone asked. He was chilling on a park bench, sipping a smoothie.

“Warren Stone!” April squealed. She ran up to her news anchor idol. “Do you know where our sister is? She’s got a teal mask and a pretty defined shell.”

“Yeah, she crawled that a-ways about ten minutes ago,” Warren said waving in the general direction. “Chasing a bird or something. No respect for the laws of mortal foe combat.”

“Thanks Warren! Stone-head for life!” April ran off to get her brothers. “I got a lead! Venus isn’t here anymore, but I know where she went!”

“Lead on, April!” Leo said.

April led them in the direction Warren Stone had waved in, and they soon came across Hypno. He was shouting and swinging a top hat at a flock of doves swarming over his head.

“Hypno!” Mikey shouted, wrapping the chain of his kusari-fundo around the hippo mutant. “Where’s our sister?”

“What?” Hypno shouted. “I don’t know anything about a ‘blister.’”

“I said sis-ter,” Mikey yelled. “Baby turtle mutant. Teal mask. Where?”

“Never met one,” Hypno shouted. “Why would a lady turban merchant need a flask? Speak up! I can’t really hear at the moment.”

The teenagers groaned. This was getting them nowhere!

“Did you lot happen to lose a baby turtle?” Hypno asked. “One passed by a minute ago. I gave her a magic show, but the doves scared her off.”

“Where’d our baby sister go?” Mikey yelled as clearly as he could. Hope shined in the box turtle’s eyes.

Hypno seemed to wilt from the question. “I don’t know. She let out a killer scream that took out my doves and my hearing. I didn’t see where she went.”

“That would explain the screaming-match,” Leo grumbled. “Mikey, let him go. Venus isn’t here.” But she has been causing some top-tier mischief.

Raph brought the Turtle Tank around for everyone to pile in and regroup. Now what? Hypno was their last lead to finding Venus, and he didn’t know where she crawled off to. How did her screaming make the hippo mutant go that hard of hearing anyway? Sure, the baby had a loud voice but not loud enough to make someone go near-deaf. Right?

“Now what, team?” Raph asked. “Where do we look next?”

“Well,” Donnie started. Then explosions erupted from the Nexus Hotel in the distance.

“FOLLOW THE CHAOS!!!” April shouted.

Moments later, the Turtle fam burst into Big Mama’s hotel, weapons drawn and ready to take on the spider yokai. The sight that greeted them was not what they expected from the usually put-together criminal boss. Small fires lit up parts of the lobby and stairs, yokai and humans alike were either flopped over broken furniture unconscious or shaking in absolute terror. A yokai ran from one end of the room to the other screaming his head off.

“What happened here?” Leo asked, lowering his sword.

“I don’t know,” Donnie said, looking at his wrist scanner and typing on it. “I’ll hack into the security feeds; you guys keep an eye open for—”

Big Mama chose that moment to leave the elevator in giant yokai spider form. The first thing the Turtle fam did was pull into a tighter circle, defending Donnie as he reviewed the hacked feeds. They noted how she looked, well, battered, bruised, and burned. Big Mama looked at the teenagers with six tired eyes, down at her thick arms, then back at the teenagers. She slowly walked towards them.

“Does this belong to you?” she asked, voice wavering from exhaustion.

Extending her arms, Venus dangled from her hands.

“Venus!” They all cried.

Raph carefully took Venus into his arms and backed his entire family as far away from Big Mama as he could. His siblings launched themselves onto his arms, kissing and cooing at the baby turtle warbling happily back at them. Before they could interrogate the spider yokai about how she got her claws on their precious baby sister, Big Mama passed out less than gracefully in her lobby.

Raph quickly carried his family back to the Turtle Tank where they continued to fawn over their baby sister, relieved to have her back and taking turns holding her close. Donnie held Venus very carefully. She had somehow gotten out of one of his inventions specially designed to protect her, and he took it personally. How had it happened?

“Let’s see how you got into Big Mama’s hands, shall we?” Donnie said, passing Venus off to April and hooking up his gauntlet to the tank’s display screen.

As the security feed played out, the Turtle fam watched with increasing shock as their baby sister all but destroyed the Nexus Hotel. From the very moment that she went intangible in Big Mama’s arms, to crawling up onto the ceiling, duplicating, and puking up acid, the teens couldn’t look away. Then things really got weird.

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Venus screamed in the arms of every bellhop that held her, causing them to drop the duplicates to cover their ears. Big Mama wasn’t so lucky. She held the original baby turtle. Big Mama had to transform into her yokai form in order to cover her ears and not drop the baby.

“Hush, cutie-doodle!” Big Mama tried to soothe the child.

No! Venus didn’t want the spider lady anymore. Maybe if they couldn’t see her, they’d leave her alone. Leo played peekaboo with her all the time. Maybe the same rules applied? Venus covered her eyes and held as still as possible. She heard a gasp of surprise and suddenly felt her bottom hit the ground.

“Where’d she go?” a bellhop asked.

“I don’t know,” Big Mama replied. “She was right here! Find her!”

Venus crawled away as the bellhops and Big Mama waved the air around the ground searching for her. She made it to the elevator right as it was closing before becoming visible again.

“There she is! How’d she get in the elevator?!” a yokai yelled out.

The crowd tried to get to the baby turtle, but the doors had already closed. Venus blinked. She looked around the box-like room she was in. How did these things work again? She spotted the shiny panel of buttons and made grabby hands at them. They were too high up! The Indian tent turtle’s line of sight was soon above the panel of buttons. She could totally reach them now! Venus slapped the panel happily. The room felt like it was moving.

When the doors opened again, there were bellhops waiting. They, unfortunately, were not expecting the little baby to have grown to be bigger than their employer. Venus mowed them down as she crawled into the hallway. She found a stairwell and wandered her way down a few flights before shrinking down again.

The door was too heavy for her small body to open. However, she didn’t hesitate to crawl right through the wall to the other side, which just so happened to be a fish tank. Venus loved swimming! She followed the exotic fish in the tank for a minute or two, completely missing the looks of horror guests and employees alike gave her for how long she was in there. What? It wasn’t like she was gonna run out of air. She did this all the time at home.

“There you are!” Big Mama cheered, scooping the baby turtle out of the water tank. “Oh, now you’re all sobbled! Come, dear, let Big Mama dry you off.”

Oh, not this lady again! Venus huffed and puffed, struggling to get out of the gentle but firm grip. Then, she felt something shoot out of her shell. Screaming rang out around her, and Big Mama gasped. Venus looked around and saw several spikes impaling pillars and pining people to the walls. The baby clapped, clearly enjoying the silly poses the yokai had struck to avoid the spikes.

“That’s quite enough of that,” Big Mama admonished. Neither yokai nor baby noticed the pillar behind them starting to fall over. “I’ve had enough fizzywinkles in my hotel today, thank you.”

The pillar groaned and slammed on top of the two females. The bellhops rushed to lift the pillar from Big Mama, who was banged and bruised from its weight, but Venus was perfectly fine. Her scales had formed into a silver armor, leaving a baby turtle shaped hole in the raised column.

Then, a fire started from one of the spikes slicing through an electrical outlet. Everyone started screaming and running. Venus started crawling away again. And—

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Donnie shut of the video feed. He, Raph, Leo, Mikey, and April stared at Venus in shock. Raph quickly drove them home. After the teens all gathered in the living room, they collapsed into a heap of exhaustion, stress, and disbelief. Splinter walked in to see Venus sucking her thumb on top of Donnie’s chest as the soft-shell gently patted her head.

“Ah, there’s my precious little girl!” Splinter smiled. “Come to Daddy, Venus.” He lifted Venus to his hip and rubbed his nose to her beak. “So, how was her first ride in the Turtle Tank?”

Splinter raised an eyebrow in confusion at the way the teens groaned and sunk even further into their sibling pile.

Mikey shot up from the pile and shouted, “VENUS HAS POWERS,” then sunk back to his place between his brothers and April.

What a chaotically long day.

[limited-practice]

Here’s a quick thing I wrote based on the prompt ‘Bumblebee and Cooking.’

My love for random comedy is unceasing, and this was a fun thing to write.

1443 words of Bumblebee trying to follow a soup recipe from a cooking book he bought from Swindle are below the cut.

Follow this simple** recipe and you’re guaranteed*** to create a meal that will startle**** and delight your guests and leave them begging, absolutely weak on their knees with their tongue lolling out of their drool stained desperate mouths BEGGING you for just one more spoonful, just one more sip, just one quick lick around the bowl in case some dripped down the side and is hardening on the bottom and it doesn’t matter that the bowl’s been rolling around the floor because we’ve all been fighting like rabid turbo foxes over it because it’s just. That. GOOD.*****

Bumblebee's arms collapsed to his sides in defeat. He held a cooking book loosely in his fingers.

“Why? Why did I buy this?” he muttered to himself under his breath. “Why?”

He shook his head, appalled at his behaviour. “And why did I buy it from Swindle? I know better than that.”

He raised his voice and looked up at the ceiling as he clenched his fist. “I know better than that!”

The book threatened to slip free from his other hand. He glanced down at the ornately decorated purple and gold book, and couldn’t help but look at the large author’s photo printed on the back. Swindle was wearing a chef’s hat and holding a spoon. He beamed up at him.

“If we get food poisoning from this I’m coming after you.”

The book dangled in Bumblebee’s hand, and Chef-Swindle looked like he was laughing.

“But due to a series of unfortunate and improbable events, this book is the only thing that can teach me to cook soup for my important dinner party tonight.” 

Bumblebee put the book flat on the counter and opened it to the first page.

“‘First of all,’” Bumblebee read out loud from the book, “‘Fill six large measuring cubes with VERY watered down engex distillate. This is the base for your soup, and MUST be watered down and MUST be thin and weak and able to accommodate rapid heating as a precursor for more complex substances.’”

“That...kinda makes sense. And seems simple enough.” Bumblebee’s eyes narrowed. “But what’s the catch? What’s the catch here Swindle? ”

‘That’s it! There’s no catch, I swear there’s not! After filling your pan set the heat to a rapid - and I mean circuit melting RAPID - heat. Blast that engex distillate for approximately 60 seconds until it’s so scalding hot it could melt your plating off if you’re not careful. See the next page for a great deal on emergency medical coverage that includes but is not limited to scald, burns, cuts, dismemberments!’

Bumblebee sighed. The instructions were spread out over a double paged spread, but were squeezed into a few lines at the very top. The rest of the space was taken up by garish advertisements for cooking utensils and measuring cubes and lots of promises to save  ! ! $ $ ! !

“Fine.” Bumblebee poured six large measuring cubes worth of thin engex distillate into a pot and cranked the heat up as high as the cooker would allow. Heavy wet heat filled the kitchen as the liquid bubbled. 

Bumblebee turned the page to the next instructions. 

‘If you haven’t burnt yourself yet, you will soon!’

“What?” 

‘There’s a time in every bot’s life when they accidentally pour boiling engex distillate over themselves. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. But it is painful, so time is of the essence if you don’t want to be in agony. Put this number into your speed dial so you can call your dedicated insurance agent when it happens to you: 0800-PAY-TO-TAKE-THE-PAIN-AWAY’

“Why wouldn’t I call for an ambulance if I burnt myself? What kind of idiot would call an insurance agent first?”

Bumblebee looked at the phone number for a suspiciously long time. As if he was memorising it. The timer on the cooker dinged, and he glanced up in relief. Sixty seconds was up. He was sure he had to remove the pot from the heat now or turn it down, but he turned the page to cheek the next instruction to be sure. 

‘After you’ve set the engex distillate to a low heat to prepare it as a base - and I mean a LOW heat, as if it was practically off - use this very long time to prepare your ingredients. And check out the insurance deals on the previous page if you haven’t already done so!’

“What?” Bumblebee looked between the pan of roiling liquid and the book.

‘You DID set it to a low and gentle heat, didn’t you? Because if you set it straight to a boil you’ve just ruined your soup. Why did you do that? That was stupid.’

Bumblebee swore loudly.

He turned the heat off, emptied the pot, filled another one with the same amount of liquid, and set it on a low heat on a different burner. He looked at the book to find out what ingredients he had to prepare.

‘Back when I was freshly forged and living in a strange city as I sought to make my fortune, I craved the comfort and simplicity of a home cooked meal like my mentor used to make.’

“Oh I don’t care,” Bumblebee said. “I don’t care in the slightest about your obviously made up story that’s supposed to be spark warming and reassure me that you know what you’re talking about. You just told me to set the liquid at a rapid boil and then insulted me when I did!”

Bumblebee turned the page. The story continued. 

‘I also wanted a hearty yet simple meal before starting a day of hard honest labour on a brisk Cybertronian morning.’

He turned another page. 

‘So I turned to a source of great stability and comfort to me; something that continues to provide me spiritual, mental, and emotional guidance in these increasingly trying times - my bank account.’

With a growing sense of alarm, Bumblebee flipped through the next twenty pages. The story marched through them all.

“Oh my god,” Bumblebee muttered.

Brightly coloured adverts infected each page. They surrounded the text of the story and were often embedded within it. At the top and bottom of each page was a headshot of Swindle. He smiled, dabbed his eyes with a tissue, laughed heartily, winked, and held up a copy of his insurance plan. 

“This crap takes up most of the book. I paid for this. I paid actual money for this.”

Bumblebee finally came to the end of the story. He vented heavily. There was one page left of the book.

‘After the ingredients are cooked thoroughly and the liquid has thickened, it’s time to serve your soup!’

“What? What ingredients? What are you talking about? You didn’t give me any further instructions!”

Bumblebee looked at the book in rage. And slowly felt his expression melt into one of horror. 

“You don’t mean that the rest of the recipe is hidden within that story. You can’t mean that. Please tell me you don’t mean that.”

Chef-Swindle held a bowl of piping hot soup in one hand and rubbed his stomach with the other.

“I don’t have the strength,” Bumblebee whispered. 

He glanced up at the clock. 

“And I don’t have the time! I just want the recipe, that’s all. That’s ALL!”

‘Because you’ve chopped and marinated your ingredients two days before, the flavours you’re about to experience will be divine! If you haven’t prepared them two days before, I’m afraid it’s going to smell like burnt rubber and taste even worse. Why would you do that to your guests? Why? What’s wrong with you?’

Bumblebee covered his face with his hands.

‘But chin up! Thanks to my home delivery service, you can still salvage the evening you’ve ruined by calling for a three course banquet to be delivered to the location of your choice. If you call now it will take just ten minutes to arrive. Just ten minutes to prevent your friends and family from hating you!’

Bumblebee looked at the cost of the delivery service. He choked back a sob. 

‘Check out the other recipe books in my series for more delicious meals to perfect! And no, YOU’RE welcome!’

Bumblebee turned the last page. He squinted to read the small print that was squashed underneath the large photo of Chef-Swindle winking and giving a chef’s kiss. 

*A highly subjective term not subject to strict definition

**A highly subjective term not subject to strict definition

***Not a guarantee

****In the good way, not the clutching-at-your-chest-what’s-happening-oh-primus-spare-me-I’m-having-a-spark-attack-I knew-I-should-have-got-Swindle-brand-insurance-because-now-the-medical-bills-will-cripple-me-and-I-didn’t-even-get-to-eat-any-delicious-soup kind of way

*****Adding mind altering drugs as an extra ingredient is absolutely not recommended. Especially not the perfectly legal ones you could legitimately purchase by calling 0800-ABOVE-BOARD-YOU-KNOW-YOU-WANT-TO

[anotherhawk]

Family by Association - Good Omens fanfiction

Left to his own devices there was no particular reason for Warlock Dowling to be in any way supernaturally remarkable. Genetically he came from the Youngs, a perfectly innocuous lineage, and he had been raised as the only child of the US ambassador and his philanthropic wife, which might have predisposed him to be an entitled little shit, but still didn’t convey any inherent magical power. The problem was that Warlock had very much not been left to his own devices. No, Warlock had been primarily raised by two supernaturally remarkable beings who had expected him to possess the power to bend reality to his every whim, and, as has been amply demonstrated elsewhere, the expectations of such beings has a power of its own.

Read it on AO3 here or below the cut

Left to his own devices there was no particular reason for Warlock Dowling to be in any way supernaturally remarkable. Genetically he came from the Youngs, a perfectly innocuous lineage, and he had been raised as the only child of the US ambassador and his philanthropic wife, which might have predisposed him to be an entitled little shit, but still didn’t convey any inherent magical power.1 The problem was that Warlock had very much not been left to his own devices. No, Warlock had been primarily raised by two supernaturally remarkable beings who had expected him to possess the power to bend reality to his every whim, and, as has been amply demonstrated elsewhere, the expectations of such beings has a power of its own.

Warlock Dowling was not the antichrist. But he had grown up soaked in angelic and demonic power and to put it plainly, some of it had stuck. And that was how at the age of eleven years old Warlock was fully capable of walking straight past the two secret service agents who were supposedly guarding him, his bickering parents who were supposed to notice him, and the new au pair that was supposed to be taking care of him, hailing a cab to Dulles International airport, flashing the black Amex card he’d borrowed from his father2 getting on a flight to London Heathrow, and spending the next eight hours sitting in first class, playing Fortnite and being brought glasses of Coke by flight attendants who kept forgetting to ask if he was an unaccompanied minor.

Having established the ‘how’ of this situation, let’s take a step back and consider the ‘why’. Warlock had been having a very weird couple of months, even by his own admittedly broad standards. Having been born in the UK and lived all his life there he had, shortly after his birthday party, been dragged by his parents first to some boring ruins where a man with weird eyes (properly weird-weird, not just cool-weird like his Nanny’s) had taken an uncomfortable interest in him and the dog he didn’t have, and then to Washington DC, because his father didn’t have a job anymore…or maybe did, but no-one knew what it was? It was all very confusing. None of the adults seemed to know what was going on anymore than he did, and Mom and Dad were shouting at each other a lot, and these were the sort of times when Nanny Ash would take him outside to the orchard and let him yell at the trees, and make him that hot chocolate that had little glowing stars bubbled through it, and just listen to him, but he didn’t have a nanny anymore. When he’d asked Mom what had happened to her she’d just looked at him blankly and then a couple of days later he’d had an au pair named Sherry. And Sherry was nice enough, but she didn’t know how to make hot chocolate properly, and she’d screamed when he tried to introduce her to the garden snails.

He wanted to go home. Back where his friends were. Back where Nanny Ash was and Brother Francis the gardener. They’d always been there, as long as he could remember. His first memory was of Nanny Ash giving him an ice lolly on a hot day. He’d eaten it too slowly, trying to save it, and the last little bit had fallen off the stick and onto the ground, and he’d been about to cry when suddenly the lolly had been whole again, like he’d never even given it a lick, and he’d looked up into Nanny Ash’s warm golden eyes and she’d given him a slow wink.3 Nanny had been the one to take him to and from his first day of school, and she’d been the one who’d calmed everything down after he’d thrown a tantrum at his kindergarten teacher for labelling the picture he’d drawn of himself holding hands with a tall, thin dark blob and a smaller, rounder white blob as ‘Mummy and Daddy’. She and Brother Francis had been the ones to teach him how to ride a bike, she’d been the one who’d nursed him through the chicken pox while Brother Francis fretted and brought horrible soup. When he’d been playing at Spiderman and he’d fallen off the roof of the house it had been Nanny Ash who had caught him, despite having been at the other end of the garden at the time. That had also been one of the only times she’d raised her voice at him. It had certainly been the only time he’d seen her shaking like that.

He knew what being home felt like, and he was quite happy to follow that feeling all the way across the Atlantic and onto a bus driven by a man who had previously been going to Oxford but who was now following a satnav that was confused to find itself giving directions to a vague and mobile point in a stern Scottish voice.

In that way Warlock found his way to Tadfield, only a couple of miles from the place he’d been born.

This was also the point where he first started considering what he was doing. So far this had all been an excellent adventure but now, fourteen hours and around forty unanswered calls later, he had to admit to himself he wasn’t quite sure how this was going to end. He’d wanted to Get Away and to Go Home, but now he was in a place he’d never been before, he was tired and fed up, he had no idea where he was going to sleep tonight, and Mom was going to be furious when he finally got around to answering his phone.

He stared at the tiny house across the street. Jasmine Cottage, it said. It looked like the sort of place his nanny wouldn’t be caught dead in. But the Feeling he was following was all he had to go on, so he walked through the gate and stopped as he heard voices and shrieks coming from around the back. Not sure what to expect, he sneaked around the side of the house – he was good at sneaking, he could get past the secret service, after all – and peeked around the corner into the back yard.

There was a whole group of people there. There were four kids, three boys and a girl, all running around with ice cream cones and water balloons while a small dog barked madly, jumping around at their ankles. And then there were six adults, sitting in deckchairs with wine glasses, talking quietly. He looked them over – there were only two women and neither of them were his nanny, one being too old, and the other too young. But that Feeling was still there…he Looked closer, his brow creased and there were four men, two of whom he ignored immediately, but the other two…one was shiny and soft like Brother Francis was, and the other one….oh, the other one…

As he watched one of the kids stumbled and dropped his ice cream, and in an instant it was in the man-who-was-his-nanny’s hand, and he was handing it back with a smirk and – even though Warlock couldn’t hope to see his eyes behind those sunglasses he was sure – a wink.

Angry tears sprung to his eyes and he pressed his hands over his mouth. Nanny Ash was a man, well, he’d seen Mrs Doubtfire, he could cope with that. But Nanny Ash had abandoned him and found other kids to take care of without even giving him a second thought…he ran.

If Warlock had waited for even a moment longer he would have seen her head snap up and round to look directly at him, before jumping to her feet and snapping her fingers. A moment after that a water balloon burst exactly where her head had just been.

From Warlock's point of view though what happened was that when he ran around the corner Nanny Ash was standing by the front gate. Sort of, anyway. Her hair was long again, pulled up into a severe bun, and she was wearing red lipstick, but she was still wearing the tight trousers and suit jacket she had been before, and she was leaning against the wall in a way that he’d thought she never would.

He stopped and stared. She stared right back.

“Warlock,” she said at last, abandoning her nonchalance to lead down in front of him, her hand gripping his shoulder. “What the blessed hell are you doing here? Where are your parents?”

“Like you care,” he muttered sulkily, pulling away and marching straight past her. His eyes were burning and he had no idea where he was going, he just wanted to get away.

“What…?” He could hear her footsteps clacking just behind him. “Of course I care, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He didn’t want her to see him anymore, and he tried to make himself unnoticed the way he had before, tried to wrap himself in the way his parents' eyes glazed over whenever they were forced to spend some time with him, but Nanny Ash was in front of him again, kneeling down on the pavement, holding her hand out towards him.

“Hey. No. None of that,” she said fiercely. “That’s not going to work, I will always see you.”

“Then why did you leave?” he demanded, his voice cracked. “You weren’t even at my birthday. You just let them take me away, and it sucks and I hate it.”

He was pulled into a familiar, bony hug. “Oh, Warlock,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. Things got very odd after the last time I saw you, and by the time they were sorted you were safe in America with your parents. I thought you’d be better off without me mucking you about.”

“But you didn’t ask,” he said furiously, even as he leaned in against her shoulder. “No one ever asks.”

There was a long pause. She held him tighter. “You’re right. That was stupid of me.”

“And I saw you with those other kids,” he went on, through the lump in his throat. “You were being nice to them. You fixed the ice cream.”

“Oh, Warlock.” She sighed, produced a handkerchief out of nowhere, and dabbed the tears away from his eyes. “I've cared for a lot of children in my life, and none of that changes the way I feel about you.”

He swallowed hard. “Do you….do you not want to be my nanny anymore?”

“Do you even want a nanny anymore?” she asked, pulling back a little to look at him. “You’re getting older, darling child.”

He was. None of his friends had nannies anymore, and he’d taken to calling her ‘Old Ash’ and laughing about it when he was talking to them, but that didn’t mean he wanted her gone. It wasn’t good when she was gone. “You don’t need to be my nanny! You could just be like…a friend. A friend who takes care of me.”

There was another moment of silence and she looked at him , her lips pursed. “Alright then.” She reached up to her glasses and, frightened, he held his hand out to stop her. She froze. “Sorry.”

“There are people around,” he hissed, looking around the street. No-one was looking at them right at that moment, but he knew Nanny didn’t like anyone knowing about her eyes. “They’ll see.”

“Oh.” She smiled at him. “They can’t see us right now. It’s like what you did, only broader.” She reached up again and this time he let her take the glasses off and looked straight into the yellow eyes he’d only ever seen a few times in his life. “Now. Warlock Dowling, I swear to you on my own name that I will always be your friend, and I will always care for you as long as you live and as long as you want me in your life.”

He felt something. A sort of hissing or sizzling in the back of his brain, not unpleasant, but like something was settling in there. “Oh,” he said, echoing her. “Should I swear too?”

“You can say ‘fuck’ if you like,” she told him comfortably. “But no, I don’t need any vow from you and it’s not legally binding on kids anyway.”

“Fuck,” he said, just to see her smile. “You said you swore on your name…is Ashtoreth your name?”

“No…well, sort of, but my real name, the name I chose is Anthony J. Crowley. You can still call me Ash if you like though. Or Nanny. Both are fine.”

“Anthony is a boys name,” he told her, which was sort of close to the question he wanted to ask but couldn’t quite pluck up the nerve.

“No, it’s my name,” she said patiently, and before he could say anything else went on,” Sometimes I’m a man, sometimes I’m a woman, sometimes I’m both, sometimes I’m neither. Sometimes I’m a snake.”

That…was a lot. He wasn’t quite sure what to feel about it. “I always thought you had to be one thing and stick to it.”

She shrugged. “A lot of people think that. It’s not true though. You can always change who you are if you really want to, and if you’re ready to really work at it. It’s part of being alive. Brother Francis would say it’s ineffable.” Her eyes narrowed to slits. “And then I’d have to throw something at him.”

He laughed a little. “I saw him in the garden. Does he have another name too?”

“Aziraphale,” she told him, smiling.

“Aziraphale,” he repeated slowly, giving it a couple of tries before he was sure of the pronunciation. “When you’re a snake are you a boy snake or a girl snake?”

She opened her mouth and then frowned. “Do you know, I’m not that sure? I’ve never thought about it before. I’m just sort of a snake. Snakes don’t spend a lot of time thinking about their identities.”

“Can you teach me how to be a snake?” he asked, suppressing a yawn.

“Maybe. We’ll see,” she said, which was as good as a promise, really. “Now, you’ve had a very long day, haven’t you, so why don’t we go back to see Aziraphale and his friends and we’ll get you a snack and something to drink and I’ll phone your mother while you have a nap.”

He pulled a face. “So you’re still going to be a bit my nanny then?”

“You asked me to take care of you,” she said serenely, standing up, putting her sunglasses back on and brushing a hand through his hair. Immediately he felt relaxed and refreshed and he swayed, leaning into her as they walked back towards the house he’d run from. “Oh, you are tired,” she murmured.

He didn’t bother replying and before he knew it they were back in the garden, and the kids were staring at him curiously, and the two men he didn’t know were making confused noises at Nanny…Crowley…Ash.

“Crowley!” Francis – Aziraphale – said, sounding cross. “You can’t just stop time whenever you want to change your hair – although it does look lovely, dear – “

“ – Angel,” Crowley interrupted, her hand firmly on Warlock’s shoulder. “You remember Warlock. He’s just popped over from America to see us. And we’re very pleased to see him, aren’t we?”

Aziraphale blinked at Crowley for a bit and then made that face that grown-ups made when they wanted private time4 and turned his attention to Warlock. “Well,” he beamed. “It is lovely to see you again. Are you, erm, staying long?”

“Dunno,” he said with a shrug.

“I’m going to call his mother and figure some things out,” she said, running a soothing finger across the back of Warlock’s collar. “Could you get Warlock a drink and something to eat?”

“Of course.” Aziraphale held out a hand towards him in the way that Brother Francis always had when he was young. “There’s some lovely strawberry cake left, I think. You don’t mind, do you, Anathema?”

The younger woman spread her hands helplessly. “No, go ahead. I guess I need to get used to surprises. Crowley, has anyone ever told you you’re too tall for those heels?”

Crowley glanced back. “No.”

She nodded. “Good.”

There was indeed strawberry cake. It was indeed lovely. As he was eating it the four kids and the dog came marching up, staring at him like he was a particularly interesting looking snail.

“I’m Adam Young,” the blond curly one said, his head cocked to one side. “I reckon we’ve met before, a long time ago.”

He hesitated for a second, listening to his Feelings. “I’m Warlock Dowling,” he said, holding out his hand. “And yeah, I think we did.”

    1Riches and magic are functionally very different although to the disinterested observer the effects appear identical insofar as that their possessor doesn’t appear to be beholden to the same rules as the rest of us.

2He had indeed borrowed the card, rather than stealing it, in that he’d waited until his father was on a call with the president before saying “Dad, can I have this?” and taking the dismissive hand wave and slammed door as a ‘yes’. He had been raised by an angel, so he knew that Stealing Is Wrong. He had also been raised by a demon, so he knew that if people who should be paying attention aren’t paying attention then it’s really their own look out.

3Warlock had read plenty of improving children’s literature recommended by Brother Francis. He was well aware that nanny’s were supposed to be magical. Since that fit in perfectly with his own experience he had never bothered giving it a second thought. There were many things that young Warlock hadn’t bothered giving a second thought. He wasn’t stupid, simply self-involved.

4Warlock thought this meant arguing. The reader may make up their own mind.

[mortaljin]

Out of the Sky

Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: Profanity Genre: Fluff, light angst (we’ll see) | Guardian Angel!Namjoon

Summary: How your adorable, clumsy guardian angel still manages to save your life is beyond you.

A/N: This was originally supposed to be a oneshot, but I hate going so long without giving you guys something. So, it will be a mini series. Tbh, I’ll likely change the name of this once its finished.

Masterlist

There was a lipstick smudge on your chin that you just couldn’t seem to correct in the amount of time you did not have to do so; the bright pink smudge was the aftermath of that sandwich you didn’t think to eat before doing your makeup. Your friends would be here any moment and you were in desperate need of just starting over.

You felt a little stressed, if not downright defeated, at the failure of your looks tonight. The outfit you picked out last night—which was SO cute—no longer looked flattering anymore. But now, as you stared at your reflection, your usually cute fashion sense seemed to be as bland as ever.

Sighing, you leaned into the mirror a little closer and took the pad of your finger to smudge off the pink blotch. The lipstick was removed alright, along with the rest of the makeup in that area. There was, unfortunately, no time to completely fix your chin area. So, you blended in some foundation and called it good.

At least your hair looked nice.

Right?

The beginning of doubt creeping into your head was shaken by the alert of your phone, which you presumed signaled the arrival of your friends. Instead of fussing, you straightened yourself out and decided that it would be okay to not be perfectly primped tonight.

You would not be the center of attention tonight, anyway.

With the ping of your phone echoing in your head, you left your bathroom and scurried down the hall. Yuki wanted to go out on the town tonight, so your best bet was anything other than heels. She could run a marathon in them, but not you.

Your purse’s contents were laying haphazardly on the entryway table with your keys in one bowl, wallet in another, and other things in the drawers. And, of course, your purse had fallen and had been kicked under the table. It was a wonder how you ever managed to find anything.

I’ll clean this in the morning, you thought as you rushed out the door.

The sandals you decided to wear slapped across the hard floor as you powerwalked towards the elevators. Your apartment itself was small and a sight for sore eyes, but the complex itself? Every time you left and came home you were reminded why it was literally the cheapest place in the city.

The entrance of the building swung open and you were met with a much warmer night than you were expecting. It was early fall, but it felt like a midsummer evening instead. The weather, although odd, helped to lift your spirits ever so slightly.

All day you had been tripping up. As if life itself was nipping at your heels everywhere you went. It was the can of soup you dropped at the store this evening, or the pen that you just bought yesterday running out of ink this morning.

Even when you accidentally knocked over the trash in your kitchen it felt worse than it actually was. The mundane things of life just felt like they had a twist today.

Your phone had not dinged in the last few moments while you were leaving your home, so, you thought it best to actually check your texts.

The space between your brows creased as you furrowed them at the message on your screen:

Yuki 5 minutes ago: Were runming a lol late, sryy Y/N!

You huffed in annoyance at her lack of time management. Turning off the phone screen, you sat on the concrete steps. It was better to sit out here, you decided briefly, than to anxiously wait around in your apartment where you would surely continue nitpicking your looks for the evening.

The sun was almost done setting; the last sliver of the peachy glow barely reached the sides of the surrounding buildings. The warmth no longer stretched across the city but, instead, the cool, collected solace of the night was beginning to take place.

You sighed dreamily. Nighttime was always the hour in which you felt most comfortable, almost as if all your insecurities were masked in the darkness. The night was mysterious, enchanting, even sublime—

The screeching of tires could be heard in the distance, and you lazily looked up to see a car coming. It was still a couple miles back on the flat stretch of road, but no one would be driving at this hour except idiots and… your friends.

Adjusting your purse strap against your shoulder, you stood from the steps and began making your way down the sidewalk towards the edge of the road. The wind had been still when you first walked outside, but now it was picking up around you.

It was heavy enough to the point it made your hair whip around; your lipstick likely hadn’t fully dried and you couldn’t see through your own hair. So now you were standing there like a blind idiot with, again, sloppy lipstick.

In the midst of your delirium, you managed to notice the ground below you was rumbling ever so slightly. The uncanny situation made panic crawl up your spine and you took a couple steps back as you finished fighting with your hair.

As you looked up, the sight, and crack, of the nearby tree barreling straight towards you forced your feet to haul yourself backwards. You hit the edge of the sidewalk and tumbled ass first into the grass.

The crash of the tree was deafening as it knocked out a couple mailboxes and disturbed trashcans set out for pick up.

Your knees threatened to buckle underneath you as you stood up, heart pounding and confused. A faint shimmer could be seen in the foliage of the fallen tree, and your hand flew to your head to confirm you had hit your head.

Standing in horror as you watched the rustling of the tree, you prayed for your friends to arrive already so that they could get you admitted.

The light you think you’re seeing is only a side effect of disorientation and streetlights. Only, you heard the sound of a man groaning at a distance. This caused you to brace yourself at the arrival of another person.

But the person that you saw wasn’t who you were expecting.

It wasn’t a neighbor in the complex, nor some random person strolling the streets at night that you heard. No, out of the shimmering foliage rose a man so beautiful you thought you were seeing God.

He looked hurt, you assumed, from the way he was hunching over with his head down. Coughing, he stood up. You stood mesmerized as he shook out his shoulders, trails of golden dust falling from them as he did so. He rolled his head around, stretching out his neck until he noticed you were standing there. Staring.

Once he had caught sight of you, he turned fully towards you and smiled brightly. It was a terrifying sight, almost, to see a man so beautiful looking at you the way he was.

The fear was different than you had ever known, not fear for your safety. No, you weren’t afraid that you would be harmed. Instead you feared what you did not know.

Oh, but how you wanted to know.

“Are you Y/N?”

He was calm, professional, as if you were talking to a businessman. Not an angel.

Your mouth was left agape as you stood there in the night air with him. Surely you looked like a suffocating goldfish as it opened and closed without words, but still. You were in awe.

He apparently took that as a yes because he stepped forward through the foliage, hand outstretched.

“My name is Namjoon, your guardian angel.”

“What?” You lifted a trembling hand to your forehead, checking for any sign of a fever. “Ha… haha…” Maniacal laughs stumbled from your lips as you shook your head in disbelief. “I’ve finally lost my fucking mind.”

The man, “Namjoon,” stood there and watched your insanity with curiosity.

“Holy shit,” you wiped wetness from your eyes, “that’s rich, mister “guardian angel,” You added air quotes for mocking affect. “You did some shit guarding, then. I almost fucking died!”

Your mocking turned into screeching once you realized this psychopath was being as serious as could be. Surprisingly, no one from your apartments had come out to investigate the loud crash. Instead, the ruined tree laid silent in front of you.

He simply shrugged. “I’ll admit I cut it a little too close just now but…”

“But what?” You cute him off, “I’m supposed to be going out tonight and your psycho ass nearly killed me. Look, my friends are here now.”

Either your friends were driving really slow, or the incident with the “guardian angel” took much less time than you thought it would. Ignoring burning annoyance in your chest, you took off once again down the sidewalk leading from your apartment’s entryway.

You heard a tsking noise behind you.

“What do you want?” You gritted.

“Three more steps and that car is gonna get you.”

You rolled your eyes and began to turn as you heard the sound of the approaching vehicle. Desperation bubbled inside of you with the chance to get away from whatever it is that is going on here.

But before you could inch any further up the sidewalk, bright lights blinded you. The headlights came from your right with only enough time to throw your hand in front of your face before you were promptly getting pulled back.

The headlights belonged to a car that was certainly not being driven by your friends. This was obvious not only in the car itself, but also in the way that it jumped the curb and took out a couple of the trashcans.

Garbage laid splattered right in front of you; the knowledge that it very well could be you spilled out right there was enough to have your dinner threatening to leave your stomach.

“Oh, please don’t puke on me,” Namjoon whined.

It was only then that you registered that his hand was still firmly wrapped around your wrist; he had not let go since jerking you back from the sidewalk. The adrenaline was crawling up your throat and the events that just occurred only helped to confirm what the crazy man had been telling you earlier.

Your free hand flew to your mouth as your racing heart caused your emotions to rush out. “Oh, my g-g-god!”

Tears clouded your vision as your words got caught in your throat.

“H-how did you k-know th-that that was going to h-happen?”

He chuckled, but it didn’t seem as though he was laughing at you.

Honestly, you were still so scared right at that moment. It was two near death experiences back to back in the presence of some otherworldy man and it was almost too much to bear.

When you blinked away the tears that had no doubt ruined your makeup, you realized his eyes were so… sad?

Namjoon was no longer shining so brightly, instead it was a warm, soft glow radiating around him. It was only now that you realized his large, feathery wings were drooping.

He let go of your wrist and backed away.

“Y/N, please don’t be scared of me. You’re not scared of me, right?” His voice was low, yet brimming with panic.

You weren’t sure how to answer. One part of your mind was screaming to get away from the unknown entity. The other was nudging you to be curious, to find out more.

Luckily, the sound of your phone dinging distracted you from giving him an immediate reply. You were still trembling slightly, as was made obvious by your lit up phone screen shaking in the dark.

Yuki: this is Anna, we’re gonna have to cancel plans Yuki pre-gamed too hard. Shes sick, next Friday sound good?

A bitter sneer came from your mouth and it didn’t take long before you were shoving your phone in your pocket and looking up towards Namjoon again. Yuki’s lack of proper spelling made sense now.

“You’re not real,” you decided on. “I can’t be afraid of what’s not real. Goodnight.”

You muttered the farewell to yourself and ignored the exasperated sigh coming from the not-actually-real being behind you.

[kwananntan]

Steamboat

The weekend my cousin got into the University of Edinburgh, our entire family was invited to Big Uncle and Aunt’s house for a steamboat dinner. This invitation was met with joy and excitement (on the part of my two younger twin brothers), but also dismay and dread (in the secret, but perhaps not innermost thoughts of Ma and I).

As we ascended the glass elevator that led to my uncle and aunt’s fancy apartment in the heart of Kuala Lumpur, Ma lamented the fact that she had such an incapable daughter, and warned my brothers not to follow my example, but to instead make sure that they looked up to and learned from my cousin. As usual, I pretended not to listen, while my younger brothers were too busy arguing about who had better aim and was more likely to hit a passerby on the ground with a mouthful of spit. It wasn’t that I didn’t care, but I had long learned to block my ears off from the words that spilled from Ma’s mouth like heavy rain during a period of haze. They left their oily-grey smoke trails on my skin, and I was so saturated with them I could sometimes tell what she was going to say before she said it.

Not for the first time that day, I wondered how different things would have been at these family gatherings if Ba had not abandoned us nearly ten years ago, and left Ma to bend over backwards to please her stuck-up family. We were so afraid of any shame that some of my more distant relatives did not even know that Ma was divorced—or pretended not to know. They assumed our father was always on a badly-timed business trip whenever we had to meet them. You must be so lucky to have a father that works so hard for you! They would say, while I would only grit my teeth and smile sheepishly, resenting my mother for putting us in this position. For all we knew, Ba was very well dead by now, or raising a mirror image of our family, one that was smarter and prettier and richer than ours.

‘Ah John, congratulations! We are all so proud of you. First in the family to go to university!’ Ma said, without a trace of resentment.

When my cousin opened the door, Ma handed him an ang pao and smiled sweetly, a rare event that would only occur five times across my lifetime, and directed to me only once, on the day I got married. She seemed to have conveniently forgotten the fact that I was already in a local university, having started on the January-December calendar rather than the Western one. Still, it didn’t count, since it was just a polytechnic. For many people, this didn’t seem like something to be proud of––it was a useful degree, but not as glamorous as the degrees from the exotic West. Never mind that we didn’t have the money for me to go overseas—it still somehow counted as a failing on my part.

For all his parents’ money, I was thankful that at least my cousin had some manners, and never rubbed anything in my face while we were growing up. The ang pao disappeared into his back pocket, and was tucked underneath his chequered shirt.

‘Come in, come in!’ Big Uncle boomed in Mandarin, face already red from early celebration, a sweating bottle of Tiger beer in his hand. ‘Why still standing in the doorway? No need to be polite!’

We crowded in and dutifully recited a roll call of greetings, from eldest to youngest relative. My Po Po was still in the living room catching the last few minutes of a Hokkien drama that never seemed to end. She was a small, bird-boned lady that always had her silver hair pulled back in a severe bun. Po Po also had perfect posture, regardless of whatever situation she was in––a trait that unfortunately not a single one of her children and grandchildren had. When I glanced at the screen, three characters were lost in an intense but circular argument about the identity of a child, eyes wide and earnest, as if this was the first time in the drama this had happened. Anyone who was able to maintain such dedication to their character over the course of five hundred or more episodes truly deserved an Oscar.

Po Po smiled when she saw us approach, flashing a full set of false teeth. I got a polite nod, while the twins got warmer hugs and head pats, my grandmother asking why they seemed to get thinner and thinner every time she saw them. She shook her head disappointingly at Ma, whose own lips thinned in response as she struggled to hold back a rude response to her mother.

Big Uncle and Aunt’s house had always seemed so big when I was a child. It was certainly expensive—Big Uncle was a businessman who had gotten lucky in the property development market, and was the more successful sibling on Ma’s side of the family. Their family could afford expensive trips to Europe, good international schools, and luxury cars. Meanwhile, it was a treat for our family if we occasionally got to take a road trip down to Penang or Melaka, local haunts which were more food adventures than life-changing cultural experiences. Big Aunt had once given me a small souvenir from Paris, a camera obscura with a tiny pinhole that gave me a panoramic view of the courtyards of the Louvre. That whole year, I nearly ruined my eyesight by squinting through the tiny thing to capture every detail, dreaming endlessly of walking those halls, escaping the moist heat of the tropics.  

My Big Aunt was busy in the kitchen, preparing the cooked and raw ingredients that would make up our family steamboat. Every inch of the kitchen counter was covered in dishes, and my stomach grumbled at the sight. She was the perfect stay at home mum and wife. Every time we visited, I couldn’t help but marvel at how immaculate the kitchen was, or how artfully yet another room renovation had been done. While my mother used Big Aunt’s life of leisure as the reason everything she did looked so perfectly put together all the time, I secretly thought that my Big Aunt had just never known bitterness, and so she couldn’t imagine any bitterness in the lives of others.

‘Mei-ah, how’s school?’ She asked, while arranging cloud-coloured, deveined prawns on a plate. They were so large that she was able to build them up into a small Jenga tower, black eyes spilling out of their heads. I replied that everything was fine, and nothing was too hard yet.

She turned off the bubbling pot of broth on the stove. ‘Your mother must be so happy that you’re living close by,’ she continued. ‘Xin tong ah, when I think about John going to Edinburgh. My big boy, all grown up now! I don’t know how I’m going to cope when the youngest will have to go too.’

I was handed a plate of fish bladders and beancurd to bring to the dining room, as she followed behind with four stacks of thinly cut shabu-shabu meat. In a matter of minutes, the spread was transferred from kitchen to table, with the huge steamboat pot taking the place of pride atop a portable electric hot plate.

‘Lai chi ah!’ Big Aunt called out loudly to everyone.

Steamboat is a meal that both embodies unity while promoting bitter divisiveness. The order of ingredients that go in are a hotly contested topic, and there is only as much space as the pot allows, so for hungry stomachs, it’s important that the things they like most go in first.

Meat first—for Ma and Big Uncle, who were rarely in accord on anything. Big Aunt and Po Po protested, saying that the vegetables cooked slower, and were needed to counteract the heatiness of the steamboat’s pork broth. The twins and our younger cousin tore their eyes away from their computer games and came over to add their noisy voices to the fray, calling out for meatballs stuffed with cheese and crab-sticks to be thrown in. Big Aunt lamented the fact that they didn’t have a pot with a divider in the center, so that we could have different soups and broths.

Eventually, all eyes turned to John who had already started on the side dish of fried dumplings while the adults bickered.

‘I like both meat and vegetables,’ he said. ‘But the vegetables do take longer to cook, so we should just leave them in while the broth boils. When everything is hot enough we can just dip the meat in and cook it instantly, so no one has to wait for anything.’

It was the obvious solution, but no one ever wanted to compromise in the beginning. The ingredients went in: huge leaves of Chinese cabbage that would shrink down as they were boiled, local Kai Lan that Big Aunt swore was a hundred percent organic, then some meat and fish balls to please the children. Ma and Big Uncle dipped in meat with their chopsticks directly into the boiling broth, and then into the mixture of soy sauce and chilli flakes in the smaller dishes in front of them.

We ate peacefully, as the talk turned to politics. Big Uncle laughed about another Malaysian politician’s alleged sex tape, while Big Aunt scolded him and said there were children at the table. Another corruption scandal. One of our relatives working in the government civil service had mentioned something or other to Big Uncle, ensuring that the rumours would spread further and further through the country until even primary school children had worked the words into their schoolyard games. Ma asked John about university—where was he going to live, and who was going to help him move all his things? Then to our younger cousin—would he miss his older brother? He shrugged in response, mouth full of food.

John hadn’t just gotten into a university overseas, but he was going to be the first doctor in our family. Big Uncle often boasted that if Po Po and Gong Gong had been rich enough to send him overseas, he would have been able to be a doctor too, and wouldn’t have had to start working at such a young age. I couldn’t think of a worse profession for him—with his red face and furrowed brows, staring down a patient as they tried to explain their symptoms. He was a much better businessman, with the courage to strong arm people into giving him what he wanted. John would probably be a good doctor. Luckily, he had inherited Big Aunt’s patience and thoughtful eyes, and I had never seen him frustrated or upset before.

Continue reading at Joyland

[taemins-dolphin]

Luck (With Chanyeol, pt 3)

genre: its just not happy 2402 words

summary: haha jk, coffee shop was definitely not the last time you saw chanyeol bc he shows up n’importe où et n’importe quand to ruin your life.

previous - next

Meeting Hyojung made you so happy, she is so bubbly and fun to be around. Her humour matches yours. She is exactly what you look for in a friend.

You were beginning to understand why Chanyeol chose her over you. You were probably a little too serious for him.

They’ve been skydiving and bungee jumping at least twice in their lives. They go hiking a lot more than the average person. They did everything you disagreed to when you and Chanyeol were together.

That’s why he chose her.

However, whenever you tried to think back of your relationship with him. Things just didn’t add up to you.

What did you do that was so wrong? Why did Chanyeol do this to you? What made him choose partying and girls over you?

You shake away the bad thoughts. Chanyeol is the last of your concerns. Right now, you were going to try and bond with Hyojung. You needed new friends and she has become one of them.

Every weekend you would invite her over and she would bring her son along so he could bond with your son as well. The first two weeks felt awkward and weird.

You knew that the two boys were brothers and you saw the similarities between them. Even if Hyojung’s son was older by a year, you could definitely see it. You saw that they both shared Chanyeol’s vibrant personality.

“Joon, show Hansol your new Lego set. Maybe he could help you build it.” Hyojung beams, handing her son the box of Star Wars Legos which he gladly takes. He excitedly runs over to your son who’s shyly hiding under your arm.

“Wanna play?” Joon shoves the box onto Hansol’s lap, initiating playtime and removing all the awkward atmosphere between the two.

That’s very Chanyeol of him.

You see Hansol’s eyes widen at the surprising request and then at the box. He usually has a lot of energy in him but he was very timid today. He wasn’t used to playing with older boys.

“I’ll let you play with Han Solo, if you’d like. Since your name is Hansol.” Joon smiles shyly. He wants to play with Hansol but he doesn’t know if he’s approaching him the right way.

Fortunately, Hansol hears exactly what he wanted.

“I can be Han Solo?” He takes the box excitedly and jumps off the couch. “We can go build in my room!”

Four weeks have passed since Joon and Hyojung have been visiting your home. You knew her invitation to hers was coming soon. You just didn’t think it would ever actually happen.

“You can finally meet my husband! I’ll even make sure he makes food for us!” She’s holding your hand so tightly in all the excitement of inviting you to her home.

You think of Chanyeol’s cooking. Memories of his meals automatically makes you hungry. He would put Furikake on anything and everything. It just made everything perfect.

You remember introducing the seasoning to him. He couldn’t stop using it. On his rice, on his eggs, in his soup. He was capable of finishing the whole container in two days.

“Oh, I don’t want to trouble him. We could just order some food.” You wave your hand, getting out of her hold. You really didn’t want to bother Chanyeol. Who would want to cook for their ex?

She suddenly sighs out your name.

“Nonsense! He’s really sweet. He would love to cook for you. I talk about you all the time.” She exclaims, grabbing the cup of tea elegantly.

He’s heard about you. Does he know it’s you?

“Please? Come over. He thinks you’re not real and always teases me.” She tilts her head, eyes begging you to say yes.

You can’t really say no to someone you can now call a friend. It’s been a while since you’ve made a new friend. The only other friend you talked to was Minseok but even then, you only saw each other at work and occasionally outside for some coffee.

Minseok’s a good friend but sometimes it’s nice to have other friends too.

“Fine.”

She drops the tea so quickly on the table. She excitingly hugs you from behind the chair.

You smile, she’s got Chanyeol’s warm hug.

-

You’re getting ready to meet Hyojung and Chanyeol when a realization crosses your mind. Hansol is finally going to meet his father. Are you going to tell him?

He’s spent his entire life without a dad. It was going so well. He didn’t ask you once who his father was. He understood that your family was smaller than the others. He didn’t mind being slightly different from the others. He had a mom that took care of him all by herself and he loves and praises you for that.

He was four, but he understood everything.

Chanyeol was going to see his other son for the first time. Are you going to tell Chanyeol? What would Hyojung say?

“Mom, we’re gonna be late!” You turn around quickly to the little voice behind you. You nod, taking your jacket from behind your door before carrying Hansol up into your hands.

“Sorry about that. Let’s go!” You smile, moving his hair to the side to kiss his forehead.

“Time to meet Joon’s dad.”

-

Hyojung has been preparing for this meeting for so long. She set up the whole house, showing off all the luxuries she has ever owned. She’s had her maids clean the house until all floors were perfectly polished, enough that she could see her reflection on the marble tiles.

Hyojung has always been well off. She had her parents’ money, her grandparents’ money, and her great-grandparents’ money. She was old money.

And she wasn’t afraid to show it off.  She wasn’t the sweet and naive woman she pretended to be all these years. She knew exactly who you were. She knew exactly who you were to Chanyeol.

Chanyeol doesn’t hear a lot about you.

Hyojung does.

When she ran into you at Joon’s school, she was beyond shocked. Out of all the elementary schools, you had to enroll your son in this crappy poor one Chanyeol kept insisting her to bring their son to. But she did gain an idea while meeting you.

After all the years of being compared to you, Hyojung was finally going to have the perfect revenge. She was going to introduce him to you as one of her closest friends.

She was going to torture him with the simple fact that he couldn’t be with you.

Chanyeol still loves you and Hyojung knows that. But what can he do now? He’s married to Hyojung and they even have a son together.

Or so he thinks, but that’s just a detail Hyojung likes to put at the back of her mind.

Facts aside, Chanyeol would never leave her for someone else.

“Babe! Are you ready yet?” Hyojung walks up to her husband, smiling brightly as if she didn’t just invite his ex-fiancée to their somewhat peaceful home. She adjusts his collar on his blouse like every stereotypical wife would have.

“You really don’t have to do that.” Chanyeol places his hand over hers and squeezes it lightly with that sweet smile of his. She looks up at his face and beams, she’s so in love with him.

“I’m your wife. I should be doing this. ” Hyojung can’t help but give her husband a quick peck on the lips to which he immediately blushes to.

He clears his throat and backs away from her.

“Where’s Joon?” He asks, changing the subject nervously.

“In his room.” Hyojung hides her disappointment as she walks away to find more accessories to put on. They’ve been together for 5 years, yet she’s always been the one to initiate contact. She knows he doesn’t love her but the least he could do is try. If not for her, at least for Joon.

Hyojung always tries to remember that even if he hasn’t kissed, hugged, or do anything to her, he still stayed by her side for 5 years when he could’ve easily left and abandoned her to go find you. That’s why she never let the disappointment get to her. He chose her over you.

Today, all the pain would be worth it once she sees Chanyeol’s face at the sight of you.

-

The doorbell rings and Joon rushes to answer the door. Once answered, Joon shouts out Hansol’s name in excitement and bows to greet you before he drags Hansol’s arm inside his home.

You enter as well, eyes watching the kids laugh at how excited they are to see each other until a tall figure walks in the picture.

“Joonie! Is your friend here?” Chanyeol bends down onto Hansol’s level and smiles. He sticks out his hand for him to shake. “I’m Uncle Chanyeol, and you must be Hansol. It’s nice to meet you.”

Hansol shyly hides behind Joon.

“Hi.” He waves awkwardly. This uncle felt so friendly. He’s just like Joon yet Hansol still felt shy around him.

Chanyeol simply smiles and looks up to find the parent of the child so he could laugh it off.

Your eyes met his and suddenly, time froze.

Chanyeol couldn’t breathe. You were in front of him. You were real and living proof that some people do get more chances. He’s so lucky to have finally found you again. He can’t wait to bring you back home so he can make it all up to you. He would even make you fall in love with him all over again if he had to.

“Babe, this is my friend.” Hyojung shoves all of his ideas back into the dark end of his mind as she introduces you.

Right.

He has a family now. He can’t abandon them for you. This is reality and reality wants to throw shit at Chanyeol for one tiny mistake he’s done in the past.

“And this is her son, Hansol.” Apparently, reality doesn’t seem to end there. He finally realizes that your Hansol’s mother. You’re a mother now. Everything has changed.

“It’s nice to meet you, Joon’s dad.” You bow politely. You can see the shock in his eyes.

“I-It’s also n-nice to meet you.” He’s stuttering. He’s nervous.

“You have a lovely home, Hyojung.” You try to divert everyone’s attention to the expensive designs of the house.

“My father designed it for me. Well, for us. It was his wedding gift for us.” Hyojung smiles, mainly because she got the reaction she wanted from Chanyeol.

“We should eat. And then I’ll show you around.” Hyojung takes your hand and pulls you away from Chanyeol’s sight. She watches as his eyes continue to follow your form into the dining room.

“J-Joon, let’s go eat.” His hand reaches out to his son’s to which Joon grabs it happily, eyes still on you as you walk away.

“Hansol too!” Joon pulls Hansol forward so his hand is holding Chanyeol’s other hand.

Chanyeol’s eyes widen surprisingly, as well as Hansol’s. They look at each other dumbfounded before Hansol stares back down shyly and holds Chanyeol tightly. Chanyeol only smiles at the adorable child.

There’s something about him that makes Chanyeol feel welcome in his own home.

-

The dining room is filled with crystals and gold. There was a crystal chandelier dangling from the ceiling, a large cabinet with golden edges filled with expensive-looking plates, a long table filled with food that could be served at a Las Vegas buffet. It was luxuriously uncomfortable.

When you were with Chanyeol, all you had was the small coffee table he found at a garage sale. Even then, it costed a fortune for both of you.

Chanyeol must be well-off here.

Your train of thought is cut off when you hear your name being called out by Chanyeol. You’re tugged by Chanyeol to the side.

“So how long have you been living here? Not here in this house! I mean, in the neighbourhood…” Chanyeol awkwardly asks. He’s trying to not make it seem like he knows you. He doesn’t want Hyojung to know. It’ll make things awkward between both of you and he doesn’t want that.

Then again, now you knew.

“Oh, we moved here a year ago. We had too much baggage back home. So we came here to be closer to my work and further from there.” You’re staring at him straight in the eyes. You’re not afraid to let him know you left that neighbourhood because of thoughts of him. You could do it again, but Hansol really seems to love playing with Joon. You wouldn’t want to be the one to break off this great friendship.

“Oh, so it’s just you two?” Chanyeol looks genuinely interested.

He’s wondering whether or not you’re still single. He knows Hyojung told him that you weren’t married but maybe you were dating someone.

“No, no. My best friend came along. He works at the same hospital.” You tell him casually. Chanyeol knows exactly who you’re talking about. And it irks him that you were still good friends with Minseok. He didn’t like himself for getting jealous.

He was so insecure at the time. He felt so bad for you because of a mistake he had done. He felt so miserable that he became insecure that you would find out and do the same to him. He became jealous of one of his closest friends. He became a monster.

“I’m sorry again-”

“Chanyeol, stop. Last time you said sorry, you didn’t mean it. I’m tired of forgiving you. You had two chances and you wasted them.” You take a deep breath in and turn around to head to your son who’s already sitting at the table. You smile when Joon sits closely to him and shows him which fork and spoon is used for what.

“Just do you, and I’ll do me.” You say as you look back at the man you once loved.

Chanyeol follows you like a lost puppy without even realizing it. Hyojung has to snap him out of it by telling him where to sit.

“You’ve been acting weird, babe. Is there something wrong?”

“No, no. I’m fine.” He shakes his head with that sweet smile of his. Chanyeol catches your stare and immediately looks down in embarrassment.

How could he have left someone like you go so easily?