#; oh my god I'm clearly not OKAY writing this ;-;
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NOOOOOOO OMG 😱😭
There I was, just scrolling peacefully (I almost never check my notifs right away),
oo, NaruHina fanart, so pretty, look at Naruto's bright smile, Hinata's schoolgirl outfit, a high school au :) ... "I have high expectations for my hero"...my hero...hmm that sounds really familiar, like I - scrolls a little more-
from "It's No Secret" ?????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!??????💥💥💥
FAMILIAR LIKE I WROTE THAT??? THERE'S A SECOND IMAGE??? Of THAT SCENE??? The one of Naruto crouching down?????
ALSO, okay, ALSO ALSO ALSO ALSO
The Shoujo magical sparkles and flowers blooming blossoming sparkling everywhere okay 😭 you know what, yes, Jolly, you really truly nailed the concept here, that is the EXACT thing happening in my brain. It's No Secret is just a super girly, dorky shoujo manga, and I'm SO EMBARRASSED YET APPRECIATIVE??? that you brought my little baby fish of my first serious attempt at fanfic writing off my brain and into the world as this fully-formed drawing that PERFECTLY encapsulates how flirty and lovey dovey they are when they're not even dating 💀 I'm dead, people aren't supposed to see this.
okay, my initial "NOOOOO" up there is because when you told me that you really wanted to draw a scene, and in no wondering of mine did I EVER think it was from It's No Secret, like THAT's NOT the fic you were supposed to be inspired by???? I thought, if she read most of my fics already, maybe like Little Samurai since you remembered that one, or maybe like Last Chance or Friend of Mine..., BUT IT'S NO SECRET???????? You even read that?????? Such an old fic?????? That's not even that good, like I did NOT write it well and
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO Why is your art so HIGH-TIER for my smutty, stupid writing?????????? 😭
It's No Secret is supposed to be for readers who have explored my other fics already, and have gone down the fanfic rabbit hole, so far down, that they somehow end up years in my past, and they're so into fanfics at this point, that they just forgive all my tropey, cringy, cliche plot points and characterizations, and are just caught up in sparkly NaruHina romance, maybe a part of them thinking, like, "oh, Days was also just a newbie at writing back in 2018 haha," and then all the drama of American nonsense like prom gets these readers to just forget how stupid the story actually is 💖
Unsuspecting, unrelated people who haven't read fanfics in general or my fanfics aren't supposed to just be subjected to my shoujo-brain while scrolling on Tumblr 😭😭😭 It's TOO MUCH.
IT'S TOO MUCH FOR ME. I can't handle this. I love "It's No Secret" too much, like I must protect it in all its tropey glory, it's just a baby!!!
AND YOU GO AND DRAW MY FAVORITE SCENE IN THE WHOLE STORY.
Well, along with the strawberry date and the car scene, so this scene is definitely in my top three from that fic, and you really shouldn't have 🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭😭😭💖💖💖💖💖💖 I was not prepared. Not prepared, like I needed a warning sign or something. Dear God, I pray that innocent, unsuspecting people do not click on the link for the fic from this art. Their expectations will be too high because Jolly's art is too good, and they will just be like wtf is this cutesy possessive, jealous Naruto and too good too innocent Hinata who can do no wrong, this fic is too much.
UGH Now I feel the absolute need to reread It's No Secret because it's been ages, AGES since I reread it, I will skip certain scenes that are too embarrassing for me 😅, but I can't believe you.
I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU. HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME, THIS FANFIC IS TOO PRECIOUS TO ME, YOUR ART IS TOO PRETTY.
Just the fact that you nailed the concept on the head so well with the flowers, and Naruto's EYE, showing how ooey-gooey in love he is, and the sparkles raining down, and and and you did not leave out the detail of how he's blushing super hard to his ears.
Like. This fanfic really is the prototype for every high school au I've written ever since. I can so clearly remember my descriptions just by looking at your art, even though it's been years since I wrote that scene. UGH. Hinata's hugging her books, like you know what. You know what. That is exactly how every preppy girl including myself held our books at my high school because that was The Look. but also you just nailed Naruto so well, UGHHHHH. I'm dead.
I adore you 😭🥺 Thank you for embracing my baby fish so warmly, I don't deserve this. Like there are so many better NaruHina fanfics out there in the world, and you spent your energy and talent on It's No Secret of ALL THINGS. Thank you 😭😭😭😭 I can never repay you. I could keep gushing and freaking out, but I have to go now 😭
You are the best, the ABSOLUTE BEST. I LOVE YOU. You deserve nothing but good things in your life, may God BLESS YOU for ALWAYS.
A scene from @dayseternal-blog fic "It's No Secret" (<- link)
This was meant to be two pages. I wanted to draw out more of the scene but I unfortunately have no more free time till next year 😭I just really wanted to draw this particular image out and put it out there (the after math 🤭):
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year~
#had a meltdown earlier but I'm sorta kinda okay now#about it's no secret#UGH BUT THIS SCENE#THIS SCENE????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!??????? 💥
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love having a very obvious It's Past 9pm Just Go To Sleep type mental breakdown, and being VERY AWARE that that's the problem and that there's a solution (go to bed) but alas. guess what I'm not doing. (going to bed).
#i just. I'm so tired and I need a break from things being Difficult.#i mean technically I'm doing FINE right now but as soon as any one part of the Old starts to leak through#or any bit of the okay stuff starts to go bad#I'm immediately back in that Rabbit Being Chased By Predator anxiety mindset because 'oh god it's gonna get worse again'#and i don't know. my therapist will be all about 'let's celebrate where you are right now 😊 let's appreciate how far you've come 😊'#and while that's great and i get it and all... idk I'm also very scared of not being as far away from it all as I'd like to be.#sigh.#idk.#sorry to overshare on tumblr.com. i thought i was just gonna write a sentence or two but my brain clearly has a lot on its mind#🤸
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overtime (m. schmidt x reader)
request: "Hey ! Just discovered your account and I love your writtings ! I was wondered if you could write a smut and romantic thing with mike ? I dont have any specific context and all its up to you ! <3"
note: ty sm for showing love to my work and for requesting!! i finally was able to write something actually sweet with mike for the first time lmao.
pairing: mike schmidt x reader
tags: small age gap, fingering, missionary
after putting abby to sleep, you fell asleep yourself in front of the tv. you couldn't help it! it was a long night of cooking spaghetti for abby (and ordering pizza, per her request), helping her build a fort, and coloring with her inside it. abby's a sweet kid, but babysitting has always tired you out in general. plus her older brother, your boss, started working the graveyard shift at his new job, so it would be unfeasible for you to not go to sleep during your time spent over there.
you woke up to the chair next to you being shifted in, and open your eyes to see mike sitting there, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. you feel embarrassed that you fell asleep on the job and quickly explain yourself. "i'm so sorry for falling asleep, i was just—"
he looks at you. "no need to apologize. i don't expect you to wait all night long for me."
awkward silence fills the air. well, that settles that. god, he's so cute, you think, even all stressed out and with bags under his eyes. he's also been nothing but kind to you since the two of you met. always concerned with how you're doing, how school is holding up, and just generally about your wellbeing. you try to do reciprocate as it's obvious mike doesn't have a lot of people in his life doing the same for him.
you're the first to break the silence. "uhm, there's leftover pizza in the fridge... you know, in case you want any..." you comment, not quite sure what else to say to him.
"oh! thank you," he says. "did abby ask you to..."
"make her spaghetti and order pizza? yes, she absolutely did."
both you and mike laugh. "i'll make sure i can pay you back for that. you really didn't have to—"
"mike," you interrupt, "seriously, don't worry about it. i understand your situation and i want to help you."
mike looks at you gratefully, almost lovingly.
"y'know—"
"so, i should really—"
the both of you talk at the same time. "oh, sorry, you go."
you smile gently. "no, you go. i was just going to say i should hit the road."
he runs a hand through his hair again, eyes darting across the room bashfully. "well i — uh, i just wanted to say thank you for all you do for abby... and for me. it means a lot. you're very... kind."
your smile widens at his awkward choice of words, but it deeply touches you that he appreciates you. you place a hand on top of his. "of course, mike. i'm always here for you."
mike looks at your hand and inhales deeply through his nose. "will you — will you stay for just a little while longer?"
before you know it he's on top of you on the couch, slamming his middle and ring finger inside you while you bite back moans. "gotta be nice and quiet for me, sweetheart. can't wake abby up, okay? or else i gotta stop and neither of us want that," he whispers to you sweetly.
instead of letting you respond, mike presses his lips against yours in a deep kiss while he continues to finger you. you break apart to quietly call his name, letting him know that you're close.
much to your dismay, he pulls his fingers out before you can come. "mike, please," you whisper.
"please, what, honey?" he teases.
you squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve the tension in your core. "please fuck me already."
mike presses his forehead against yours, breathing sharply as he slowly pushes inside you, inch by inch. you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out as your pussy swallows his hard length.
as he begins to move, he also clearly struggles to keep his noises to a minimum. as a solution, he envelopes you in a kiss as he moves inside you. his pace gradually increases from gentle to faster. the feeling is absolutely delicious.
he can feel your pussy spasming around him and his own dick pulsing too. he uses the hand caging you in on the couch to hold yours as he continues to fuck you.
"feel so good around me, baby," he whispers hotly. "you have no idea what you — ngh — do to me. every time i see you i always think about fucking you like this."
"mike," you moan quietly. his words only encouraged you.
his name becomes a whispered chant falling from your lips as he fucks you through your own orgasm. he's sure to pull out and come on your stomach while he pumps himself.
mike wipes the sweat off of his forehead and sits up so your legs lay over his lap. "sorry for pushing you into overtime," he jokes.
you give a small laugh. "no worries. it was my pleasure."
mike shakes his head at your dumb joke. then his smile fades and he looks at you seriously. "is it... too early to say that i love you?"
you lean up and meet his lips in a kiss as your answer.
#five nights at freddy's#fnaf#fnaf smut#fnaf movie#fnaf x reader#mike schmidt#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt smut#josh hutcherson#josh hutcherson x reader
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⋆˙⟡ ⌇ 방찬 : UNDERNEATH THE SHEETS ── aftercare with your boyfriend, after a particularly long and rough night.
𓍯 idolbf!chan ʚଓ fem!reader :( 𝒾 )0.8k ── ༯ HEADCANON, fluff, humour, care, req. by anon, mdni! . ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY . /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི
yani's note ˖˙ ᰋ okay, this may have come as a surprise since i don't post any mdni content.. however it is mostly unexplicit ! thank you to my lovely anon for requesting this, hope i have written it to your expectations! (╥﹏╥). though i may have had a hard time writing this lmao. comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated ! happy reading <3
“are you sure you’re okay?” his voice was soft, but there was a slight tremor in it — a clear indication of how worried he was.
the room was steeped in a comforting silence, the only sound being the faint hum of the air conditioner and the rustle of soft sheets as his girlfriend shifted slightly. the glow from the moonlight filtered through the blinds, casting silvery streaks over the rumpled bed. chan, who was nuzzled in the curve of her neck, looked up slightly to see her flushed-and-fucked-out face, breath heavy. his eyes, apologetic and half lidded, his expression a mix of concern and tenderness.
her hair was a mess, cheeks flushed, but her eyes sparkled with affection. she reached out, cupping his jaw in her hand, thumb brushing against his cheekbone. “i told you, i'm as good as ever, chris.”
he frowned, clearly unconvinced, his brows furrowing in that adorable way that always made her heart flip, as he lifted himself slightly to look at her better. “was i too rough? did i hurt you? can you walk? you don't need to lie i can delay my schedule tomorrow-”
"what? no, no!" y/n frowned, and leaned in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “chan, baby, i literally told you it was amazing, like, five times already. you didn’t hurt me, at all. i told you i was okay with it and i really am.”
“if anything, i’m kinda hoping for a repeat performance sometime soon.”
that made him flush a deep crimson, his ears turning a shade of pink that she absolutely adored. he groaned, burying his face in his hands, muttering, “oh my god, you’re gonna kill me.”
"really, can't believe that you're all shy now considering how you were practically cho-"
he groaned, falling back down and nuzzling into her neck as his hands covered his crimson ears, while the girl under him only laughed.
she tugs his hands away so she could see his whole face. “i mean it, though. you were incredible.” her fingers traced gentle patterns along his forearm, grounding him. “but,” she added with a small smile, “i do love seeing this side of you, too. all soft and caring and…” she paused, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “a little overdramatic.”
“overdramatic?” he echoed, feigning offense, though the corners of his lips twitched upward. “i’m just making sure you’re okay! is that a crime?”
“not at all,” she said, leaning in to kiss him softly. her lips lingered against his for a moment before she pulled back, resting her forehead against his. “but seriously, chan. i’m okay. i feel… happy. loved. really, really good.”
he let out a shaky breath, his shoulders relaxing a little. “okay,” he murmured. “if you’re sure.”
“i’m sure.” she smiled, tucking herself closer to him, her head resting against his chest. his heartbeat was steady beneath her ear, a soothing rhythm that made her feel completely at ease.
chan wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer. his fingers trailed up and down her back in slow, gentle strokes, the gesture both comforting and intimate. “you’re amazing, you know that?” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “i don’t deserve you.”
y/n tilted her head to look up at him, her expression softening. “don’t say that,” she murmured, reaching up to brush her fingers through his curls. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, chris. i’d choose you a thousand times over.”
his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, emotion flickering in his dark eyes. “you’re too good to me.”
“i think it’s the other way around,” she teased, poking his chest lightly. “you’re literally the sweetest, most thoughtful person ever. and, not to mention, ridiculously handsome.”
he chuckled, his cheeks tinting pink again. “you’re biased.”
“maybe a little,” she admitted with a grin. “but that doesn’t make it any less true.”
they lay there for a while, wrapped up in each other. chan’s hands never stopped moving—one smoothing over her hair, the other tracing invisible shapes along her spine. y/n felt herself relaxing further, her body melting into his warmth.
“do you want some water?” he asked suddenly, his voice cutting through the comfortable silence. “or hot cocoa to make up? i can get you something if you’re hungry.”
she laughed softly, shaking her head. “i’m good, just tired. just wanna stay here with you.”
his lips curved into a small smile as he pressed another kiss to her forehead. “okay. but if you need anything, you tell me, yeah?”
“i will,” she promised, nuzzling closer. “you’re such a worrier.”
“can you blame me?” he said, his tone light but sincere. “i just… i care about you. so much.”
her heart swelled at his words, and she tilted her head to capture his lips in a soft, lingering kiss. when she pulled back, she rested her hand against his cheek, her thumb brushing over his skin. “i care about you, too. more than you know.”
they stayed like that, tangled up in each other, sharing soft whispers and quiet laughter. chan’s initial worry had melted away, replaced by a deep sense of contentment. he held her like she was the most precious thing in the world, and to him, she was.
#࣪ 𑄾 ₊ ˙ luvies ask ִ ࣪ㅤ⋆ ᧔ꪫ ִ#𐔌 . yani's fics ! ୧#bangchan smut#bangchan hard thoughts#bangchan hard hours#bangchan drabbles#bangchan smut drabble#skz hard thoughts#skz smut#skz hard hours#stray kids smut#skz scenarios#stray kids smut blog#ddyskz#bangchan x reader#bangchan headcanons#skz#drabbles#skz ff#skzff#skzfluff#skz fanfic#skz fluff#skzsmut#skz x reader#oneshot#bangchan comfort#bangchan#skz angst#hyunjin ff
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Hey author, did you really have to punch me in the heart like that?
And do it again? And again? In fact, tore my soul apart by the seams.
Y'know what, just entirely incinerate me won'tcha?— annnd I'm outta tags. Aw dang it.
And JESUS the artwork for this, Gods./pos
A picture is a moment in time captured forever - A reminder of the key events in your life, preserved for eternity. As you gaze into the past, you might even feel like you can reach through the frame and pull those feelings, those events, those people back into the present.
Thanks to The Second Coming, this feeling becomes reality for Mango, giving him a second change he'd never thought possible. Together with Purple and his past self, he may be able to change fate and have his whole family together. Of course, things are never that easy. Especially when the sins of the past still hang heavy over his head.
------------------
With a single click, the moment was captured forever.
Mango’s kid, his shimmering Gold, grinned brightly at the lens from her spot on top of the podium, arms stretched up to triumphantly display her silver trophy. She’d been disappointed to have lost the final round of the tournament, of course, but the young stick had always rebounded quickly. She’d wiped her eyes, offered a handshake to the kindly Ruby kid who’d won, and accepted her place on the second highest podium with victorious pride.
The picture Mango took was glorious; not quite as precious as the real sight of his child’s accomplishment, but it would serve as a fond reminder. A window back on this precious day for years to come, even long after his child was grown and far from his side. A wistfulness grew in the tall stick’s chest at the thought. The day he’d be without his child was still a long ways away, but he knew he’d never be prepared for Gold’s inevitable departure from the nest and into the greater world. He couldn’t even begin to imagine a life without her.
“Woohoo!” The excited proclamation broke the older stick from his thoughts, looking down at his child just in time to see Gold kick open the front door of their abode. A broad, excited grin stretched from cheek to cheek across her face, illuminating the room like the little ray of sunshine she was. The trophy in her hands was thrust up into the air above her head as Gold continued to cheer, exclaiming wordlessly in her zealous excitement.
Mango took a moment to chuckle at his child’s antics before switching into dad mode to parent her out of this sudden hyperactive state, setting his camera aside for the moment to focus entirely on the present Gold. “Easy there, honey.” He gently scolded, taking the trophy into his own arms. It wasn’t particularly large, only about as long as Mango’s forearm, but it was more than heavy enough to break something if Gold got overexcited and began swinging it around. “Let’s put this somewhere we can show it off, eh?”
As he spoke, Mango hoisted the trophy onto the nearby bookshelf, where the sunlight from the window caused the metal to sparkle. It stood tall and proud, glittering silver standing out against the more earthy tones of their living room.
“Okay, okay!” The young stick agreed, a bubbly laugh mixed in with her words. She bounced on her heels as she gazed up at the silver trophy. “But I’m not stopping here! Next tournament’s in six months, and this time-” Her first pumped excitedly in the air, “-Gold’s going for the gold! You’re gonna be so proud!”
“I’m already proud!” Mango insisted joyfully, delighting in Gold’s squeal as he scooped his kid into a firm embrace and spun them around, “You worked so hard for this, I’d be proud even if you got last place!”
Gold’s only response to Mango’s praise was to continue to laugh, pretending to struggle in his hold while reveling in the twirling motions. He brought them down slowly, gently, only releasing her when her feet touched the ground. She bolted from his hold as soon as she could, little firecracker that she was. How Gold could still have so much energy after a fifteen-round tournament was beyond Mango’s comprehension. Just watching that final round had made Mango tired.
But still, he kept his chin up as he informed the younger stick, “After all that hard work today, I think it’s only fair that I let you choose dinner tonight. You can have anything you want-”
“Secret ingredient pie!” Gold cheered, throwing her arms up in celebration.
Mango frowned, annoyed for more reasons than that he’d have to throw together the family-famous, overly complicated secret ingredient pie. “-Anything you want that’s an actual dinner food.” He amended. “I’ll make the pie for dessert later, but you need to eat real food too, honey.”
“Aww.” Gold groaned, momentarily put out, before springing right back up. “Tacos, then?”
“Tacos sound good.” Agreed Mango, already compiling a list of ingredients in his head. “I’ll need to grab a few things from the store, but that shouldn’t take too long-”
“Wait!”
Mango had not taken but three steps towards the door when his child’s call caused him to spin around. She barreled towards him, the discarded camera clutched in her hands, and her skid to a stop came a few seconds too late, resulting in Mango having to reach out and steady her before she bowled him over. Gold didn’t miss a beat, immediately hopping back and holding out the camera for her father to take.
“We gotta take one more picture!” The younger stick insisted, “You took like a million pictures of me at the tournament, but we don’t have any of us together!”
Taking the camera, Mango briefly flicked through the photos and found that Gold was right: though he had taken plenty of her preparing for the tournament, at least one from each match, and had those perfect, precious shots of Gold’s triumphant smile at the podiums, there were none of the two together. Of course there weren’t. This was Gold’s special moment, Gold’s time to shine, and the fact that her only complaint of the day (besides no pie for dinner, which was just typical kid nonsense) was that her dad wasn’t sharing in this victory with her was… just so Gold.
How a stick like him ended up with a kid like her he’d never know.
“So we don’t!” Mango agreed lightheartedly, playfully tussling the kid’s hair. “Go get your trophy, we’ll take one real quick before I head out.”
While she did just that, Mango took the time to adjust the settings on the camera so the indoor photos wouldn’t be too dark to see. Mango heard her thundering footsteps approach before he was ready to look up. Gold, the little rascal that she was, pressed the cold metal of her trophy into the side of Mango’s face as she whined at him to hurry it up. Mango chuckled at her, chiding her gently even as he obeyed her request.
His arm outstretched to put some space between them and the camera, Mango alerted his child he was ready with a simple, “Say cheese!”
Trophy held high above her head, Gold cheekily replied, “Mascarpone!”
A click, a flash, and the moment was captured forever.
Gold snatched the camera out of Mango’s hand before he could move it back, trophy quickly discarded on the ground, and the older stick could only shake his head in response to her overeager antics. Her bright smile shined brilliantly as she gazed down at the photo, but in the span of a few seconds it grew duller and duller, until her smile transformed into a confused frown and her eyes reflected apprehension.
As a father, Mango was well aware that he had a weakness for his child’s frown. Logically he knew that he couldn’t just magically make everything in her life all sunshine and rainbows all the time. That just wasn’t realistic. But knowing this didn’t stop the curdling in his stomach at the thought that something in her life just wasn’t perfect, or the urge to fix it, no matter what it took.
“Honey?” He asked gently, “What’s the matter? Did the photo not come out right?” He leaned over her shoulder to take a look himself.
Gold didn’t resist, tilting the camera so her father could see the picture. “There’s something else in the background. I thought it might be a smudge, but… it has eyes…”
Mango didn’t need his child to point out the problem with the picture – he could easily see it for himself. At first glance it did indeed look like a bit of grime had gotten on the camera’s lens, but a closer look indicated that this wasn’t the case. The top of the figure looked like a stick, with a hollowed out head and brilliant emerald eyes, but the bottom half was more distorted, like a number of monstrous limbs sprouting out from their body in distorted blobs of flesh. Locking eyes with the figure caused Mango’s entire body to stiffen.
It was like it was… staring at him through the camera.
Unease stole the breath from Mango’s lungs, leaving him unable to vocalize his confusion. There was nothing like that… thing in their home. He was certain there wasn’t, even before he whipped his head around to stare at the spot in their kitchen where the figure would have been. Of course there was nothing there, just the scratched up kitchen table standing where it always did.
Now Mango’s expression matched his child’s confusion, “What is that-?
A strange noise, like the distorted buzzing of television static, drew the tall stick’s attention back to the photo. Mango’s breath stilled again, for an entirely different reason this time. The figure had moved. Its arm was stretched out towards them, hand open as if inviting the two sticks to take it, to pull them into that picturesque world with it and remain in that moment of time.
A chill ran down Mango’s spine. “Delete the picture. Now.”
The sudden command – or maybe the unnaturally stern tone in which it fell from Mango’s lips – caused Gold to jump, briefly fumbling with the camera as her little fingers search desperately for the delete button. When Mango’s eyes connected again with the picture, he could feel his heart stop as the ghostly image’s eyes seemed to glow brighter, its hand extending to grab rather than invite. Gold’s fingers found the delete button, but one tap did nothing. The second tap did nothing. Third, fourth, fifth… Gold mashed the button repeatedly, but the picture remained, the figure remained, the emerald illumination of its eyes growing brighter and brighter, closer and closer-
“It’s not working!” Gold’s obvious panic jolted Mango’s brain back into place and jump-started his fight-or-flight instinct. He snatched the camera out of her hand, noting how the glow of those eyes seemed to have reached the other side of the camera’s screen, threatening to melt through the frozen image and into reality. The only thing Mango could think to do was hurl the camera as far as he could and put himself between that ghoul and his kid, holding her close so that every inch of her was protected from the green light that had finally broken free of its glass prison. The emerald beam engulfed them both, expanding to completely swallow the father-child duo without even a second for them to move out of its way.
Then, in a flash, the green light vanished. All that remained of the Ochre family was a camera, cracked and abandoned on the floor of their small home.
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“-And we’ll finish this off with some fresh basil on top. Then, voila! The perfect lasagna!” Mango concluded, sprinkling the green leaves atop the lasagna with a touch of dramatic flair. Purple, predictably, was enraptured by the showmanship, their eyes alight with enchantment as they clung to his every word. It was always like this with them, though – whether it be cooking or fishing or whatever hobby of the week Purple had picked up, the kid would drag him through all of it with those same warm eyes, like the ‘Old Man’, as they oh so affectionately called him, could do no wrong. It melted Mango’s heart, and he’d often wonder if Purple was doing this to him on purpose.
He wasn’t the same stick he’d been on the day he’d lost his child, and he’d never be again, but slowly, surely, Purple was helping Mango grow into somebody new. That was a debt he’d never be able to repay.
Purple hummed over the meal, inspecting it exaggerated scrutiny. “Not bad, not bad…” They agreed, nodding in approval, “But it’s missing a little something…”
“Oh?” Mango cocked a brow at the younger stick. Knowing Purple, this could be a pleasant surprise worthy of a Michelin star restaurant, or the grossest thing he’d ever put in his mouth. Never in his life did Mango think he’d become a gambling man, and yet, here he was.
“Yeah, I think it could use a little…” Purple quickly whipped a white bottle from behind their back. A wild grin spread across their face as they held it precariously over tonight’s dinner, “MAYONNAISE!”
“NO!” Mango yelled back. He reached out to snatch the squeeze bottle, moving just slow enough for Purple to yoink it back with ease.
Vicious cackles fell from Purple’s lips. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” They assured him between chortles. The kid laughed like a jackal, far louder and scratchier than Gold’s delicate giggles, but Mango still found it charming all the same. So much so that it took actual effort to keep the corners of his mouth from twitching upward.
“You’d better be.” Mango warned with faux gruffness in his tone. “You’re enough of a heathen as it is. There’s only so much blasphemy one stick can take in his own home.”
“Hmph.” Purple huffed dismissively at him, the effect somewhat diminished by the wide grin they couldn’t keep off their face. “If you ask me, you don’t blaspheme enough. Still,” A subtle change in Purple’s demeanor signaled the end of the game. Mango let himself relax and lean against the counter, confident that Purple wouldn’t destroy their dinner now that they’ve had their fun, “we haven’t even put this in the oven yet, and it looks incredible! I didn’t realize cooking was so much fun!”
Honestly, neither had Mango, before Gold’s presence had forced him to make the jump from an all-instant food diet to cooking from scratch. “It’s quite relaxing.” Mango agreed. “If you’re interested, I can teach you to make all sorts of new stuff.”
“Oh?” Purple glanced at him from the corner of their eye before looking down and beginning to play with the hem of their shirt, which Mango had quickly come to learn was something the kid did when they were nervous. It happened more or less whenever they tried to ask him for something, which just about broke Mango’s heart. “Then maybe… maybe you could teach me how to make your secret ingredient pie?”
Mango tried not to wince, but couldn’t help the sudden stiffening of his shoulders. Subconsciously, his gaze drifted from Purple to the picture hung beside them; The day of his last tournament, with the luster of Gold’s second place trophy being completely out-shined by her smile as she playfully pushed the trophy into her father’s face.
There were more differences between Purple and Gold than Mango could possibly count, but every day he seemed to find just as many similarities. One of which was their shared love for that confounded secret ingredient pie. It was… fine, as far as pies went. Sweet and soft, with a hint of tartness. Nothing you couldn’t get from any bakery standard fruit pie, and certainly not good enough to warrant the ridiculously complicated recipe that had been passed down through the generations of the Ochre family. And yet, somehow Mango had managed to end up with not one, but two kids who absolutely adored the taste of the stupid treat.
For every special occasion, little Gold would trail at his father’s heels and tug at his pants, begging to lick the spoon or mix the filling. With age Gold’s interest in the pie hadn’t wavered, begging time after time for her dad to teach him the recipe. But it was always such a pain, so Mango put it off. Not right now, he’d say. I’ll do it later. Maybe next time, again and again, and then…
And then Gold was gone. There would be no more ‘next time’.
Some part of Mango recognized that this was a chance to make up for his mistake, to knock away one of the many regrets he carried on his shoulders, and yet…
“Well, it’s… a bit much for your first time baking.” Mango waved away Purple’s request with a too wide smile. His cheeks hurt from forcing his grin so large. “Why don’t we start with something simpler… like cupcakes?”
Purple deflated a little, but much like Gold before them, they bounced back quickly, matching his fake smile with a sincere, if mildly sad one. “I do like cupcakes…” They brought their eyes up to meet Mango’s, and the sheer affection reflected back at him, even after being denied, was almost too much for his heart.
“Then we can make cupcakes tonight.” Mango compromised, talking over the twisted wrenching of his heart. He then gestured over to the pile of dishes from their dinnertime prep work that laid in the sink. “AFTER you finish cleaning the kitchen, of course.”
“Aww, what?!” Purple whined.
“Well, I warned you, didn’t I?” Mango laughed off the complete horror on Purple’s face at the prospect of doing their daily chores. “I told you, ‘it’s your turn to clean the kitchen, so think carefully about what we cook’, and you still chose lasagna for dinner.”
An adorable pout was the only response Purple had for Mango’s proclamation, crossing their arms and glaring menacingly at the pile of prep dishes soaking in the sink. After a moment of the dishes not being intimidated into cleaning themselves, Purple spun around towards Mango and fluttered their lashes, sidling up to Mango and staring up at him with big, watery eyes. “Old man~!”
“No.” Mango responded coolly, slipping and letting his smile show at Purple’s aghast expression.
“But- but- we both made the mess, so we should both clean it up!” They argued back.
Already the older stick was shaking his head. “Nope. We already agreed on a chore schedule, and I’ve done all my chores for today, including cleaning up many of your messes. You can’t change the rules now just because they don’t suit you anymore.”
With that the oven timer dinged, and Mango redirected his attention back to tonight’s dinner. He slipped on a pair of oven mitts and delivered the lasagna to the oven, all the while Purple was muttering agitatedly behind him. “So not fair.”
“Life’s not fair, kiddo.” Mango replied back, slamming the door to the oven shut. “Get used to it.”
The kitchen then went silent, save for Purple’s irritated muttering, which in itself was slowly petering out. Mango liked to think that Purple was maybe going to accept their lot and just do the stupid dishes, but he knew that it was far more likely the kid had only shut up to try and scheme their way out of their chores. There were only so many ways one could escape the ever-present threat of dirty dishes, however, and Mango was confident enough in his counter-strategies to not pay Purple any mind, instead directing his attention to setting the table.
Peace reigned for only a short time in their home, however, before a cacophony of shouts and blur of colours tore through Mango’s kitchen like a tornado, sucking Purple in as the colourful gang that made up Purple’s friend group trampled through his kitchen. The five sticks emerged in waves; first Green and Red, leading the pack with enthusiasm and gusto as they embraced Purple eagerly. Following suit was the Yellow one, the bright kid to whom Mango had entrusted that stupid staff he’d made, easily slipping behind the others to startle Purple with a poke to their back. Blue was next, a little slower but with no less fervor that her friends as she pulled Purple into a headlock to grace them with a playful noogie. Finally, there was Second. They hung back a little from their friends at first, only approaching the group once everyone had calmed down to throw their arm around Purple’s shoulders in greeting.
Now, Mango didn’t necessarily dislike the kids. He honestly thought their positive and forgiving nature was a good influence on Purple. That said… “How the hell did you all get into my house?” He demanded flatly.
Yellow grinned back at him, using Purple as an armrest to prop herself up. “You left the front window unlocked.” She informed him breezily, entirely too calm.
“I did not.” Mango crossed his arms as he retorted, subconsciously bristling as five of the six kids began to snicker at him. The last one, Second, merely twiddled their thumbs in the back of the party, focused entirely on their fingers even as their entire body stood tensed behind the others.
“Not the bottom front window.” Blue chimed in, pointing to the clerestory window just above the front entrance. Sure enough, the thing was open, but Mango was absolutely certain he’d have heard the kids come in through that thing. They were many things, Purple’s friends. Subtle was not one of them.
Sharp squealing cut the conversation short, and before Mango could find its source Purple suddenly yelped and fell to the floor. Mango’s heart jumped into his throat, suffocating him for a prolonged, painful second before playful laughter restored his breath. In the middle of all that commotion, nobody had noticed the friend group’s infamous pig until it had tackled Purple to the ground to shower the young stick in licks and snuggles. Purple responded in kind, petting the pig atop its head with a little chuckle.
“Whoops!” Red ran forward to scoop his precious pet up. “Sorry Purple! Reuben hasn’t seen you in a while, so he got a little too excited, didn’t you boy?” Red’s voice went high-pitched and cooing as he praised his pig. “Yes, you did! Yes you did, you silly little man!” Purple could only laugh at the tone of Red’s voice and continue to scratch the top of the pig’s head.
As precious as the moment was, Mango couldn’t even bring himself to savour it before reality caught up with him. “Oh no,” He interrupted, pushing himself to the center of the crowd. “No, you all know the rules: No Minecraft stuff on the main floor! Keep it in the basement, or take it home!”
Red gasped, holding the pig close. “Reuben’s not a stuff! He’s a member of the family, aren’t you boy?” Red scratched under the pig’s head as Purple scratched its ears, utterly lavishing it in attention.
“I don’t care if its your twin!” Interrupted Mango. “I’m not getting arrested for video game smuggling because of you chuckleheads!” Back during the ‘Plan’, Mango hadn’t really cared about taking such risks, but now he had something to lose if he went to jail. He was willing to make exceptions for Purple – this was Purple’s home too, after all, and he could trust the kid to be careful with their elytra. The rest of the gang? Not so much. “It stays in the basement, or it goes home. Pick one.”
Red made a show of his reluctant acceptance, sighing theatrically as he picked up his pet. “I’m so sorry, Reuben.” Sobbed the sorrowful stick, clutching the pig close as if this were a eulogy and not just sticking it in the basement. “You’re just too much pure goodness for this… sinful world!”
The display had even Purple, monarch of melodrama themselves, rolling their eyes. “We’ll go down and spend some quality time with him later.” They promised, “We can… uh, play catch?” They suddenly looked a little lost, “Do pigs like catch?”
This seemed to be enough to placate Red, for now. As they walked towards the basement, Mango turned to Yellow. “And you-”
“Staff’s already down there.” Yellow promised, briefly flicking through her inventory to demonstrate its emptiness. “Teleported it when we got here, don’t worry.”
That suited Mango perfectly fine. In addition to the whole not being arrested thing, he’d rather not have to handle that staff again. It was a brilliant feat of engineering, a masterful display of game code. It was also the catalyst to a near apocalypse Mango himself had caused for the sake of punishing everyone – anyone – for Gold’s fate. By the time he’d realized what he’d done, Mango had nearly lost a second child, and almost killed Notch knows how many innocents.
So, needless to say, he’d prefer to not have to look at that thing.
By this point Red and Purple had returned, sans pig. Green’s elbow into his side and whisper into his ear caused Red to suddenly perk up, dour expression brightening exponentially as if suddenly reminded of something. Blue and Yellow, on the other side of Purple, exchanged a knowing look as they smirked at each other. And Second, who’d taken advantage of Red’s scene to withdraw to the shadows behind the group, was suddenly pulled back to the forefront with the others.
Alarm bells once again rang in Mango’s head. “Did you kids, uh… want to stay for dinner?” A whole lasagna was probably enough to feed all seven of them. Though he’d hoped to have leftovers for the next few days, Mango supposed he could make the sacrifice. For Purple’s sake. “We’re having lasagna.”
Blue’s eyes immediately lit up in interest. “Ooh~! Lasagna! That’s a recipe I don’t have yet!” As if by magic, a pencil and paper appeared in Blue’s hands. “I’ve been meaning to try recreating a dish from taste alone. I bet I can identify all the ingredients-”
“The food can wait!” Unable to contain the excitement he’d clearly been holding this entire time, Green finally let loose, cutting Blue off at the pass as his patience ran dry. He jumped on his heels before rushing towards Purple, taking the startled stick’s hand to pull them forward. “We came here because we have big news! Huge news! GIGANTIC news! And you’ll never guess what it is!”
Purple squirmed back and forth in the other’s hold. “Uhh…” They leaned away from Green’s entirely too close face, and Mango took that as his cue to intervene before the kid exploded from embarrassment or something.
“Go on, guess!” Insisted the green stick, his hold on Purple not loosening until Mango’s firm grip pulled Purple out of the smog of excitement to get some calming fresh air.
Once he was certain Purple had gotten a gulp or two of tranquil space, Mango set the young stick down and directed his attention back to Green. “Just get to the point.” Mango insisted for all of their sakes.
The denial didn’t do anything to diminish Green’s excitement, or the enthusiasm of the four fighters as they worked together to push Second into the limelight. Being thrust into the center of attention only caused the already nervous stick to grow ever more anxious, their entire body going stiff at the sudden sensation of eyes trained on them from every direction. Now, Mango didn’t know know these kids quite as well as Purple did, but he’d squared off against Second more than once in his quest to destroy Minecraft, and the orange stick never showed fear like this, even when things were at there most dire. So what could be causing them such distress…? Combined with the excitement of the other four sticks, Mango could hear the alarm bells getting louder.
Oblivious to their friend’s blatant discomfort, Green blurted out, “We just found out… that Sec has super powers!”
Mango could feel his eyebrows skyrocket up as he stared at the excited group of children, mouth agape. At his side, he could hear Purple exclaim, “Yo, what?!” Followed by the sound of excited arm flapping.
Second scratched at the skin on their arm, holding themselves with all the rigid attention of a child at the principle’s office. “Yeah, heh. Surprise…”
“Whoa, that’s so cool!” Purple’s proclamation only brought Second more discomfort, and Mango reached over to take hold of the kid and force them to calm down, lest the downcast and blushing Second keel over and die on the spot, but Purple slipped away before he could make contact. In a blink of the eye Purple was in Second’s face, bouncing energetically on their toes as they eagerly questioned, “What kind of powers? What can you do?”
“Oh, you know, just the typical stuff…” Second trailed off, their eyes focusing on a spot on the ceiling instead of Purple’s wide, bright expression. “Flying, telekinesis, healing, electricity… uh, eye lasers…”
Each item added to the list only caused Purple’s smile to grow and grow, until a wide grin was stretched across their face. In any other circumstance such a look would cause Mango’s heart to melt, but at this moment it only caused an electric tingle along his spine to signify incoming danger. Flapping their arms again, Purple demanded, “You HAVE to show them off!”
A cacophony of agreements came from the rest of Second’s friends. They were all varying levels of excited; Green seemed most eager, strongly encouraging Second by lightly shaking their shoulder. Red squealed in open excitement, and Blue immediately started pleading with wide puppy-dog eyes. Only Yellow kept some modicum of self-control, but curiosity and excitement still lit up her eyes. Despite the discovery being fairly recent, it seemed none of these kids had any experience with Second’s powers, and that caused a pit of dread to form in Mango’s stomach. This was a recipe for disaster.
Hurriedly, he tried to speak up, “I don’t think-”
Mango’s attempt to interrupt was completely bowled over by Purple in their excitement. “What should we have you do?” They wondered aloud. “Maybe we can set up some targets for you to shoot down?” The other kids seemed eager, nodding along to that idea. “Or you can race me flying with my elytra! Or-!” Purple suddenly gasped, hands covering their mouth as they smiled wider, “Or you can use your powers to clean up our entire kitchen!”
For a brief moment, annoyance trounced Mango’s anxiety, “Purple, that’s your chore for the day. You can’t just use your friends to do your chores for you.”
Purple only paused to give Mango a smug, satisfied look, before completely disregarding his words. If anything, Mango was certain his disapproval had only prompted Purple to go ahead with the request. “Please, won’t you clean the kitchen? Pretty, pretty please?”
The fluttering lashes and puppy dog eyes worked better on Second than Mango himself, but not quite enough to completely convince them. Conflict clear on their face, Second shrunk in on themselves and dug their nails into their arms. None the wiser to Second’s inner turmoil, each of their friends began pilling into them, begging incessantly.
“Come on, please~!” Red whined, pulling on Second’s arm.
“I’ll make you all the cookies!” Blue promised from their other side, pushing her head into the crook of their neck. “Like, so many cookies!”
“With that much stuff? It’ll be epic to see if flying all around!” Yellow mused. “I bet with enough practice you could pull off a ‘Wizard’s Apprentice’!” Her arms flapped at the thought, “Ooh, man! That would be the coolest!”
“You gotta show Purple what you can do!” Green pleaded, giving Second a sorrowful pout that would put even Purple’s best acting to shame. “Please! Please! Please! PLEASE!”
The kid demonstrated an iron will as they shook off their friend’s clutching hands and pleading eyes to put some distance between them. “Guys, I dunno…” Second kept their eyes away from their friends, focusing instead on a spot on the wall. “I’m still pretty new at this… and I don’t want to mess anything up…”
Despite their clear reluctance, Second’s friends kept egging them on, and Mango stepped forward to put a hand on Second’s shoulder. “I agree.” He stated, giving the kids a glare when they started to protest. “These powers sound like they’re still new, and using them so haphazardly would be blatantly irresponsible, especially for chores. You kids could stand to be a bit more thoughtful about this.”
Mango looked down, prepared to reassure Second that they were indeed doing the right thing, only to find Second staring up at him. Their lips were pressed thin as they pierced him with a burning, non-laser glare for a long, long moment, as if trying to see into his very soul. After a moment, the orange stick turned back to their friends. “On second thought, let’s do it.”
“What?!” Mango shouted in disbelief, his exclamation drowned out by the cheers and hollers of the others. The rainbow whirlwind sucked Second back in and absconded to the center of the kitchen, their voices blending into a single tangle of noise as they discussed the upcoming show. The sudden change in Second caused Mango to freeze in place, staring stupidly after the group. This… well, if Mango was being honest, this was far more like the Second he knew from their previous encounters than the skittish stick that had stepped into their home only a few minutes prior. But the fact that Second had even been that nervous to begin with…
Well, there was nothing else Mango could do but swallow his apprehension, make a silent vow to try reverse psychology on the rebellious brats next time, and trail after them.
By the time Mango had rejoined the group, the others had forcibly propped Second up onto the table Mango had just set like, not even ten minutes ago. Though clearly still wracked with nerves, they took a moment to gain their balance atop the structure, knees a little wobbly.
Despite the resistance he’d faced previously, Mango tried one more time to talk sense into Purple’s friends. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
Mango was surprised to see that Green was the first to turn to him, a fierce glare aimed directly at the protesting adult. Everyone else seemed to have varying levels of exasperation and confusion at Mango’s interference. After a moment of silence, Second responded. “Yeah, I know. But it’s fine. I can do this.” Second looked down at their own hands, gaze unfocused. “I can do this.”
Second’s eyes fell shut, and when they opened again, their natural green colour had sharpened into a bright, illuminating emerald shine. Electricity crackled and zapped as it crawled over their form, stretching away from Second’s body to spread across Mango’s kitchen. The faint scent of ozone began to permeate the air. Mango could feel static run across his exposed joints, causing him to shiver. After a moment of just this, Second’s body lifted off the table, hovering in the air a few meters above the floor. Soon enough, other things in the kitchen began to lift up as well – the clean dishes on the dining table, the table itself, the chairs. In the span of maybe thirty seconds, everything in the kitchen lighter than the microwave was hovering weightlessly in the air, as though being touched by Second’s sparking power had turned off the gravity.
In spite of his early complaints, Mango couldn’t help the awe that washed over him as he took in the display of power. There was a pattern to the movement of the objects, to the flowing of electricity, that was nothing short of graceful. To his side, Mango could hear Red oohing and awwing over the display, drowning out Yellow’s mumbling as she thought aloud to herself. There was buzzing on Mango’s other side as well; whispers between Blue and Purple as they observed the show. When he glanced over at the kids, Mango found Green also present at Purple’s side, watching Second with a painfully familiar expression. One Mango saw every time he looked at a picture of himself and his Gold: Pure, unadulterated pride.
Second’s power soon brought order to the chaos they’d made of Mango’s kitchen, conducting the flying dishware in a delicate ballet. Every single item bobbed and weaved around each other to the rhythm of an intricate melody nobody but the Second Coming could hear. The swishing and swirling of water drew everyone���s attention to the sink, where a stream of water began to bend and twist upward to form rings between the layers of dancing cutlery.
“Hydrokinesis!” Yellow gasped. “That’s a new one!”
The scratching sound of pencil meeting paper was only barely audible over Blue’s inquiry, “Is it really hydrokinesis, though?” She scratched her chin, “Or just… telekinesis used on water?”
“Is there a difference?” Red asked.
All three of them were immediately hushed by Green, “Let them do their thing.’ He scolded roughly. Mango hadn’t considered that there was a second in command among the group of friends, but given how everyone immediately shut up at Green’s order, it seemed the most melodious stick took that role when Second was out of commission.
Once everyone had quieted down, Mango returned his attention back to Second’s show. Along with the ring of water, globs of what Mango assumed was soap had joined in the choreography. The tempo and melody of Second’s inaudible song changed, transforming the ballet into something more of a waltz. The dishes flowed from water to soap to water, two steps forward, one step back, before the clean dishes were added to an entirely new ring of floating tableware to dry. On and off flickered the ceiling lamp as Second’s power crawled across it, and combined with the jade sparks of lightning that flowed freely through the room, it completely transformed Mango’s kitchen into a much larger, more ominous space. Mango’s fingers twitched, itching with sudden nerves, and to sooth them he reached around Blue to take one of Purple’s hands. Though he couldn’t see Purple’s face, Mango could feel the kid squeeze his hand back, and for a moment all fear was erased from his mind.
Then a plate broke.
Its shattering echoed loudly through the entire house, trampling over any thought Mango could have formed and forcing all attention on it. Throughout the entire performance, Second’s face had been one of pure concentration, serenely focused on the energy surging about, but the sound had utterly destroyed any illusion of control Second had beforehand. Panic flittered in their illuminated eyes as they stared down at the shards of ceramic littering the kitchen floor, no longer affected by Second’s power.
“Ahh!” They cried out, startled by the mistake. Immediately Second’s body language changed, shrinking in on themselves as they focused their attention on the broken plate. Their power forced the shattered remains into the air once again. “Uhh, d-don’t worry, I can fix it!”
The change of attitude caught them all off guard, and Mango’s dread returned tenfold, churning his stomach. Green was the first to speak up, stepping forward with arms held out in an attempt to placate Second. “Hey, dude, it’s okay-”
Unfortunately for Green, his attempt at reassurances only startled Second further, and a glass cup exploded into millions of tiny shards against a wall. Mango subconsciously pulled Purple closer at the sound, heart beating a mile a minute in his chest. Second themselves squealed frightfully, their attention redirecting again. The once meticulous dance had grown discordant in response to their distress, the dishware weaving and bobbing in random, quickening movements around the kitchen. Second’s uneven breathing could be heard over the sharpening crackle of lightning and thunder that was slowly growing louder and larger as the kid lost control. One of the larger bowls hit the corner of a chair, chipping it and causing more distress to the stick in the center of the chaos.
“Sec! Stop!” Red cried out. It was unclear if Second had even heard him; they were hunched over in the center of the room, practically hyperventilating as all their focus centered on the broken objects. More things began to break in the chaos; A cracked cup here, a bent fork there. The longer their panic continued, the faster the rings of crockery spun until the kitchen had become a veritable tornado. At this point even the appliances had begun to join in the anarchy.
Purple, still firmly clutching Mango’s hand, stepped forward. Not enough to be caught in the tornado, but enough that Mango could see fear in their eyes, and it only made him hold on all the tighter. “Dude!” Purple called over the noise. At this point the chaos had created a cacophony so loud Mango could barely hear the kid over it. “You need to calm down! You’re gonna destroy the entire house at this rate!”
The loud hiss of, “Purple!” From Mango came too late. The idea was already out there, and it only increased the sense of panic from every stick present. A pathetic whine signaled an increase in the speed of the spinning kitchenware. Green surged forward the instant he heard it, with Yellow barely being able to pull him back before he could get clocked in the head by a flying food processor.
“H-hey!” Blue worked her way in front of the group, hands held out placatingly in front of her. “Second, try and focus on me, okay? It’s going to be alright. I’m going to approach now – slowly.” True to her word, Blue made small, cautious steps forward. The wild winds whipped her hair violently, but she showed no signs of distress against their might, “I’m going to make my way to you, and you’re going to calm down, and nobody’s going to get hurt. We’re going to be fine.”
And, for a brief moment, it seemed like she was right. Second’s eyes were glued to her approaching form, and the sight of her smile eased the tension from their body.
“Look out!” Red shouted suddenly, then tackled poor Blue just moments before a spinning plate shot through the air where her head once was. Instead the dish continued to whirl through the kitchen, straight over the ceramic shards of another broken plate and right towards… towards the photo on the wall-!
Mango’s heart leapt into his throat. Without thought he started forward, maybe to throw himself between the flying dishware and one of his last memories of Gold, but by the time he’d released Purple’s hand and made the first step it was already too late. Though it took only a second in real time, to Mango it felt like it was playing out in slow-motion. The plate shattered against the frame, shards of ceramic and glass flying in every direction, and the frame fell to the ground. Wood splintered apart with a deafening crack as it finally hit the linoleum. The picture fell, face down, on the ground.
Around him, Mango could barely hear the sound of audible gasps and whispered exclamations over the ringing in his ears. The tips of his fingers felt cold and numb. For just that moment in time, nothing existed but him and the broken remains of Gold’s memory.
Green sparks crawled over the pictures, shaking Mango from his stupor and forcing him to tune back into reality. From the center of the kitchen he could hear a tangle of jumbled words and accelerated breathing, “No, no, this is okay, I can fix it, it’ll all be fine, I can fix it… I-I can fix it…!” Once the picture was levitated up, a miracle was revealed to Mango; though the frame was broken beyond repair, the picture itself appeared mostly in tact.
“Kid, hold up-” Mango tried to call out, turning to look at Second. Sharp emerald lights met his eyes in return, freezing the tallest stick in place for a bone-chilling instant.
“I can fix it, I can fix it, I can fix it…!” The haphazard promises fell from Second’s lips along with their labored breaths. Then they clutched their head and screamed, “I CAN FIX IT-!”
An explosion of emerald light knocked everyone back. Mango’s body tumbled maybe a meter or so before coming to a grinding halt. Mango winced at the burning sensation on his limbs, but the second he was able to move he immediately crawled over to the kids in order to put himself between them and the violent storm Second had made of his kitchen. The green energy had formed an opaque tornado, completely hiding The Second Coming from view. Through the chaos Mango could see shattered remains of plates, randomly bent cutlery, and even full-on appliances that had been forced airborne by Second’s power poke out of the squall before being sucked back in.
Mango barely had a minute to take in the catastrophe that Second’s show had become before the kids’ chatter redirected his attention. “Okay, let’s not panic!” Yellow instructed, pushing her glasses up as she picked herself off the ground. “We can- uh, we got this! If we just ground the lightning-”
“Ground it with what?!” Red snapped back, gesturing wildly at the mess in front of them. “Sec’s power isn’t like normal lightning, that wouldn’t work!”
“And you have any better ideas?!” Purple demanded. Thankfully for Mango’s poor heart, the kid stayed down close to the ground, even as they joined in the argument.“We can’t just do nothing!”
Blue joined Yellow’s side quickly, fidgeting with her fingers. “It-It’s just because Sec’s panicking! We just need to wait for them to calm down, and-”
“And what, just leave them like this until then?!” Yellow questioned sharply, causing Blue to flinch back. If Yellow noticed, it didn’t show on her face. “I am not going to abandon them! Not after everything, I can’t-!”
Everyone seemed to wince in response to Yellow’s outcry, and the following tense silence was quickly filled with a pitiful, mournful wailing from the kitchen. The sound seemed to echo in Mango’s head, plucking at the strings of his heart painfully. And he barely knew Second; he couldn’t imagine how this must feel to the kids, who had known The Second Coming for their entire life.
A hitched breath drew Mango’s attention behind himself; Green had gotten a little lost in the chaos, overshadowed by the others yelling over themselves in an attempt to find a solution. That cry, however, had him marching ahead of everyone until he was standing directly in front of the entryway, his green form seeming to glow in the luminescence of the emerald lightning that surged along the tornado. Green’s fists were shaking, but if the expression on his face was anything to go by, it was not fear that caused him to tremble, but sheer determination.
After a moment of simply staring ahead, Green finally spoke aloud. “Screw it,” He said, and that was the only warning any of them had before he charged forward. “Hang on, Sec! I’m coming!”
Everyone watched him disappear into the chaos in stunned silence, before Yellow gritted her teeth and shouted, “Don’t worry, we’re on our way!” as she followed suit.
Blue and Red spared a moment to glance at each other, nodding as they each reached the same conclusion. Though they both jumped up at the same time, Red was on his feet first, running directly into the tornado with a battle cry.
Trailing directly after the others, Blue cried out, “It’s going to be okay, Second! We’re on our way!” as she barreled ahead.
Movement at his side jolted Mango’s attention as Purple stood up against the winds of the storm. Though their body was rigid in fear, conviction was strong on their face as they, too, began to run forward. Everything seemed to slow in that instant. Tension squeezed Mango’s lungs in his chest. All air escaped him in one startled gasp. Purple’s body seemed to transform, going from violet to deep yellow. The green light threatening to engulf them turned to black corruption. Red lights flashed at the corners of his vision. A fatal error has occurred, this connection is terminated.
“No!” Mango managed to force out, leaping to grasp Purple’s hand once again. His hold on them was tight like a vice. Though he could hear his own heavy breathing, his lungs burned with a craving for oxygen.
Though startled, Purple quickly began to struggle against Mango’s hold. “What are you doing?!” They asked, voice laden with desperation and fear in equal measure, and it only made Mango hold on all the tighter. “We- I have to get in there! Sec needs us- needs me!”
“I need you!” Mango forced out in a single, painful gasp. “I- I can’t lose another…! I’m not going to let you run to your death!”
Though the slip up made Purple’s expression soften some, they still held firm. “If we do nothing, then Sec’ll, like, I don’t know, explode or something! Then we’ll all die!” Instead of trying to get away, Purple clasped Mango’s hand with their other, meeting the taller stick's gaze with fire alight in their eyes. “I can do this! I promise, nothing will happen to me!”
Mango glanced down at their intertwined hands, Purple’s fingers gently rubbing soothing circles into his skin. Subconsciously his breathing began to follow the rhythm of the motions, and the burning fire in Mango’s chest was extinguished. With a deep breath and one final look into those pleading eyes, Mango relented. “Okay,” He said, but refused to release Purple’s hands. Instead he pulled the both of them up to a standing position. “Then we’ll go together.”
After a serious nod, Purple broke the tension with a playful wink. “Try to keep up, Old Man.” They teased, and something in Mango felt lighter, even in the face of oncoming danger.
With his hold firm on Purple, Mango began walking against the fierce winds of Second’s maelstrom. The gales of the tornado roared louder and louder the closer and closer they got, until its rumbling was all Mango could hear ringing in his ears. The sharp cold of it stung at his face, but Mango kept firm, doing his best to stay in front and shield Purple from the worst of it. One of Purple’s hands slipped from Mango, and a near heart attack was mitigated when he looked back to see Purple pulling Red down from where he’d been sent flying back. Looking around, Mango could make out the three other friends scattered in various directions, struggling to walk against the wind only to be pushed aside by a particularly strong gust or forced to jump away from a large piece of debris haphazardly flying around.
“We can’t get close!” Red yelled over the rushing tempest. “We keep getting knocked back by all the stuff flying around!”
As if to demonstrate, a chair flew straight at them, only visible once it was moments away from hitting them. King quickly moved to pull Purple and Red down to the floor, covering their heads with his arm in order to protect them.
Purple was the first to lift themselves up, gritting their teeth. “Then how are we supposed to get through…?”
Yellow’s shout, barely audible above the roaring winds, drew Mango’s attention up and towards the irritated stick as she charged forward. She got close to the eye, a mere arms length away from the goal, before Green yanked her out of the way of a swarm of flying knives set to impale her in five different ways. His heroic efforts were rewarded by Blue being tossed into him and Yellow, knocking all three back to where Mango, Red, and Purple were hunkered down.
Not even a second after being tossed back, Blue was already back on her feet. She went to charge forth one more time, but was stopped by Green grabbing her shoulder and pulling her back. “This isn’t working!” He scolded, sounding angrier in his attempt to yell over the hurricane. “We have to try something else!”
“Well, what else can we do?!” Blue asked tearfully. In lieu of an answer he couldn’t give, Green instead took hold of her hand.
The gears in Mango’s head began to turn. They couldn’t get anywhere near the center of the storm; the winds were too strong, blowing so hard that it was impossible to make it to the center before being hit by the dangerous debris flying haphazardly around. A stick alone wouldn’t be able to breach the maelstrom without getting blown away, but there was no way a group could move through without getting hit by one of the large appliances or pieces of furniture caught in the tornado. Not without a shield to guard them.
Mango knew what he had to do. With a shaky breath he picked himself up, bracing his knees to stand against the storm. Purple made a concerned noise as Mango’s hand slipped away from theirs, but in spite of that Mango instead focused on his surroundings, on every little sliver of glass or lump of wood flying around that could hurt them. As he focused, Mango called back to the kids, “I have an idea!” Everyone looked up at him, all of the young sticks suffering various degrees of battery from their attempts to reach Second. “All five of you, huddle together and move in tandem! If you keep a firm hold of each other and work as a unit, you’ll be able to stand against the wind!”
“But what about all the stuff flying around?!” Red asked, even as he and the others moved to take hold of each other. Red was at one end, Blue next to him, then Green in the middle, with Purple at his side and Yellow on the opposite end.
Mango took a deep breath, focusing on the rapidly approaching microwave as it flew closer and closer. Once it was within range, Mango demonstrated exactly what would happen with all the stuff flying around. He braced himself against the floor and was only pushed back a few centimeters as he gripped onto the heavy appliance. Though taking the force and weight of the microwave made his arms ache, Mango spun around and tossed the now useless contraption to the side.
“I’ll take care of that.” He assured the children as he turned to them, forcing down the anxiety and pressure he felt and forcing up an encouraging grin. “You all just focus on getting Second out of there.”
Purple swallowed down their nerves before matching Mango’s smile. “Just be careful, Old Man. I’m not taking care of you if you throw your back out.”
Snorting, Mango turned away from the kids to focus on his job. “If you’re my nurse, I think I’ll take my chances with the lightning.” His voice then dropped, turning serious. “Now get moving!”
All of Mango’s attention then focused on the winds around him. He played the role of guard for the children as they inched along, using each other as support against the harsh gales. The friend group moved together in near perfect harmony. Purple’s inexperience, in comparison, was obvious. They stumbled where the others stepped smoothly, needing to glance at their feet or their friends while everyone else seemed to simply trust that the others would step where they needed to. Even with the handicap of Purple’s inexperience, however, they made surprisingly quick progress through the raging storm. Mango moved as quickly as he could to knock back any debris, any heavy machine, any sharp piece of glass or ceramic that could harm the kids. They were encouraging each other behind him, counting down the steps until they reached their goal.
“Just a little closer!” Purple cried out as Mango wrangled a cabinet door away from the group. Their voice was almost entirely lost in the wind that surrounded Second. “Just… a little…!”
And then the five disappeared into the heart of the storm. Mango breathed a sigh of relief, switching up his focus to dodge the hazardous kitchenware instead of blocking it head on. Nothing in the tornado ventured any closer to the eye than where the children had just entered, so Mango could be certain they’d be fine from then on. A bone-deep ache made itself known as Mango let himself relax a touch, but he didn’t fall back. Instead Mango rooted himself firmly nearby, alert for any kind of disturbance in the maelstrom; any sign that the kids were distressed or injured.
That was all he could do for now, besides put his trust in them.
---------------------
Second could barely hear the sound of the winds whipping about over their own heart pounding in their ears. Every part of them burned; their throat, their lungs, their arms, their eyes. Shaking fingers yanked at their long, flowing hair. The cyclone’s violent winds pressed down on them harder with every haggard breath they took, stealing the air from their lungs as they slowly suffocated in their gale storm of despair.
The storm had started as a seed of panic within them, planted as the sound of shattering ceramics itched at their skin. With very new mistake, every blatant screw up, every near miss on their dearest friends’ lives, the seedling began to sprout, bringing with it a harsh, ashy wind that left a bitter sensation on their skin. The photograph’s destruction had been like bone-meal, escalating the growth of the squall until it swallowed Second whole. The winds raced at the same rate as their heart as it pounded within them, fighting to escape the cage of Second’s body. With each forced beat the ache inside of them grew and spread. They were dying, Second’s thoughts screamed at them from within their fuzzy brain.
They were going to die here.
They were doing to die here.
And it was all… their… fault…
This wasn’t the first time Second had ruined everything. Every new experience they brought to their friends was marred by pain and death in some form. The darkest corner of their mind swirled with memories of their torn-apart, dying bodies slowly fading into distorted code, or disappearing in a puff of gray smoke as their programs were ended without a second thought. Their own hands tingled with the memory of a cold steel blade pierced through Green’s body, or violet bruises ringing on their fists as they looked down at Red’s frightened face. At every step, through carelessness or powerlessness or their own unhinged actions, Second was always forced to watch the most important parts of their life suffer and agonize and absolutely languish in pain.
Why had they thought they could fixthis? Second knew they’d lose control, knew that this power would poison what they’d built, but they’d made the mistake of giving in, and now they were going to die.
They were going… to die…
All alone… after ruining everything…
They… they were… going to…
“Sec!” A sharp voice cut through the cyclone, jolting Second out of their thoughts with a wave of prickles along their body. Before they could even register the origins of the sound, a pair of arms encircled their waist. The touch was soft and sweet, causing the burning of Second’s body to ease just a little bit; just enough that they could make themselves look down to lock eyes with Green. He smiled up at them, not so much as flinching against the blazing heat of Second’s shining emerald gaze. “I’m here! I’ve got you!”
Stunned, Second couldn’t even bring themselves to return the embrace before another pair of arms forcibly wrapped around them. “Don’t worry, Sec!” Red assured through a large, vibrant grin. “It’s just a little thunder, nothing we can’t handle!”
Another jolt to their side signaled Yellow’s entrance, squeezing them so hard that rough burning churning within them was squeezed out, to be replaced a soft, bittersweet pressure. “Told ya, didn’t I?” Yellow asked, never once letting her hold loosen. “I’m not letting anything tear us apart.”
Next to join in the group hug was Blue, her shimmering eyes taking in the fierce, violent green of the lightning and reflecting back only a soft, gentle aura of emerald. “I know you must feel so scared right now,” She consoled, her voice feather-light on their skin, “But you’re not alone – everyone’s here! We’re all here with you!”
Last but not least, Purple forced themselves into the hug by worming their way between the others to snake their arms around Second’s middle. “Pfft, if you’re trying to get rid of me,” They scolded jokingly, “It’s gonna be a lot harder than that, Sec.”
Though the storm raged on, Second found themselves unable to tear their focus away from their friends. The many arms around them were velvety smooth, sweet on their skin with a tang of desperate heat. Their voices caressed Second with gentle softness as they whispered fluffy comforts for the winds to carry to their ears. Warmth flooded over Second’s entire body, forcing out the various aches from all over. Second’s shoulders relaxed as they took in a deep breath. Oxygen hit their lungs for the first time since the picture broke. Second’s eyes fluttered shut as they let themselves relax.
What had they been so worried about? Despite the accidents, the threatening villains, the near-death experiences, they always came through it together on the other side. Mistakes were forgiven, wounds were healed, and no matter what came their way, Second could stand against it, firm in the knowledge that their loved ones were at their side, supporting them all the way.
As long as Second had them, they’d be okay. They could fix anything.
Second opened their eyes. Beyond the twister they found a pair of silhouettes, a tall one and a short one. Second couldn’t make out their faces, but the tension in their limbs betrayed their obvious fear. The emerald eyes of the super-powered stick remained trained on the nervous figures,
It’s okay, Second tried to tell them, to reassure the clearly frightened figures, but all that escaped their mouth was a staticky noise that made their friends hug them all the tighter. Upon realizing that their voice was turned off for the time being, Second instead reached out to the pair, to try and show them that it would be alright, that they weren’t alone, that help was right there and ready for them.
The strangers grew more panicked, and Second stretched their arm further to reach for them. All of Second’s attention was hyper-focused on the two upset figures, to the point where everything beyond them and the arms around Second’s waist disappeared from their mind. All they wanted was to give the two strangers a little taste of the comfort that everyone’s presence granted them. To fix the pain they could sense on the pair and stop the fear that was clearly growing stronger and stronger within them as they fiddled anxiously with something in the smaller one’s hand. Second felt something deep inside them urging them to keep extending their arm, to keep pulling at the two figures. To fix the distress on their face and bring them home.
All they had to do was reach a little further… further… just a bit more…
And then everything disappeared in an explosion of brilliant emerald light.
--------------------
Between the ringing in his ears and the throbbing in his head, Green was certain he’d be in for a world of hurt the moment he opened his eyes. Despite this, the distant murmurs of fear and horror from his friends had Green forcing his eyelids up, inviting a piercing beam of light and agony into his brain. Seconds stretched into years as Green waited for the discomfort to fade enough for him to focus his eyes and look out over what was once the Ochre family’s kitchen. Now the room was in absolute shambles; everything, from the smallest plate to the gigantic refrigerator, was damaged in some way. The linoleum floor, cool on Green’s aching legs, was positively littered with shards of glass and ceramic. A food processor was stuck in the wall, its cord dangling uselessly over a crack in the tile beneath it. Water formed small pools throughout the room, one dangerously close to an electrical outlet on the opposite wall. The only electronic in the room that still functioned a little bit was the ceiling light, which flickered on and off rapidly enough to compound Green’s growing headache.
Green forced down a swallow as he took in the wreckage. The memory of Sec’s pleading, of the fear on their face, played in his mind like a broken record, and then his eyes began to burn anew. Just a few minutes ago they’d all been having fun, and Second had finally begun to relax. He’d thought that maybe, just maybe, they were finally starting to accept themselves… and then everything exploded. The thought of how Second must be feeling was like his heart was sinking to the bottom of his stomach, swirling its contents into bile.
Still, there was much to be done, so despite the nausea and tears threatening to break through Green pulled himself into a sitting position, wincing as the pounding in his head compounded. He fought through the fuzz at the edges of his vision and the painfully loud ringing in his ears to focus on his friends, to try and ascertain their current condition. Mango was the first one he was able to pinpoint, and naturally the taller stick had rushed to Purple’s side. Other than a few bumps and bruises, neither of the two looked too badly injured. Red appeared to be fine too, sitting next to Yellow and speaking unintelligible words to her. Yellow’s one leg was splayed out in front of them, and when Red made contact with her ankle she winced. Green couldn’t see how badly it was swollen, or if there was any sign of a break, but the fact that she was injured at all nearly brought Green to tears again. He forced it down and left Yellow’s care to Red, scanning across the room until he found Blue, also mostly unharmed, hovering anxiously over Second’s body with her hand on their neck.
The sight of his motionless friend caused Green’s breath to catch in his throat. No… were they… did he cause his best friend to…?
Mere moments later Blue’s shoulders relaxed and she visibly exhaled, a small smile forming under her tired eyes. Green echoed her relieved sigh. Second was… alive, at the very least.
In the little time between awakening and checking on his friends, the ringing in Green’s ears had died down. Not completely gone, but low enough that he could now hear the others chattering amongst themselves. Their voices blended together into a cacophony of noises, and Green found himself unable to tell his friends apart. He could catch the occasional word, but without context they made virtually no sense.
Mango unexpectedly stood up at the other end of the room, his shoulders stiff with tension as he immediately stood to put himself between Purple and… something. Because they hadn’t moved Green had initially overlooked them, but following Mango’s gaze Green could see… someone in the corner of the room. An extra person- no, two extra people, lying unconscious on the floor nearby. Green struggled to focus entirely on them and Mango, who made a hush motion in response to Purple opening their mouth to say something, before steadily approaching the two new entities. His face was set with grim determination as he approached the figures, but as he got closer, it gradually shifted. Mango’s eyes widened, beginning to bulge out of his head, and Green forced everything into focusing on the older stick as he inched over to that dark corner, truly taking their new guests.
And then he started laughing.
A loud, humourless cackle that reminded Green more of the mad king who’d almost killed them all than Purple’s sarcastic guardian. Green continued to push through the fuzz in his brain as Purple picked themselves up and raced over to the old man. They paused once they reached him, staring in shock at the source of Mango’s distress.
“It’s finally happened!” Mango declared between laughs, his eyes completely glazing over with a sheen of distress. “I’ve finally gone insane!”
Purple, eyes wide, stepped in front of Mango with their arms stretched out in an attempt to placate him. “No, no!” They assured him, words rushed in their panic. “You’re not crazy, I promise, I see them too! P-please stop laughing-!”
“-I’m fine! I’m not the one who, exploded, you need to go help Blue-!”
Green winced, struggling to stay focused as everyone else’s voices began to pick up volume, fighting each other for his attention.
“Okay, c’mon, wake up-!”
“You can’t walk on that, are you nuts-!”
The voices pounded in Green’s ears to the rhythm of his racing heart.
“H-hey, come on, take some deep breaths-!”
“Seriously, let go-!”
“Please, Sec, please-!”
He groaned as he held his throbbing skull. Every noise was blending together; the voices of his friends, the dripping of water from the sink, the buzz of the malfunctioning light as it flickered on and off, on and off, on and off, poking at his brain through his pupils. The bile in his stomach churned again, fighting to rise up his esophagus.
“I- This isn’t real. There’s no way this is real, this has to be-!”
“C-come on, Old Man, focus-!”
“Yellow, will stop trying to-!”
“Get off of me-!”
“Come on, Blue, think-!”
“Will you all just SHUT UP?!” Green shouted over all of them. Every single stick in the room went totally silent, finally relieving a little bit of the pressure in his skull. After taking a moment to catch his breath, Green used the wall to help himself stand. Though his limbs ached, the worst of the pain was in head, allowing Green to stand without opposition. Looking out over the chaos, Green felt something well in him at the scared, desperate looks his dearest friends were giving him; Guilt and determination and sorrow. It fueled the flame within him, and Green took charge, immediately pushing past the pain to issue commands. “Yellow, let Red help you to the living room.”
“I’m fine-!” The injured stick tried to object.
Green immediately shut that down. “No, you’re not. If you were, you would have walked away from Red by now.” Green sighed. “Look, I don’t want to be mean, but if you try to walk on that ankle you’re going to make it worse. And the last thing we need right now is for things to get worse. It’ll only take a few moments for Red to help you walk to the armchair. Let him do that, and we won’t have to worry anymore, alright?”
Any protests died on Yellow’s lips as she absorbed Green’s argument. Though she may not have been happy about it, the logic won her over, and she huffed in irritation even as she hooked an arm around Red’s shoulders. The two began to stand in order to limp out of the room, and Green shifted his focus.
Mango’s breakdown had been halted by Green’s sudden cry, too stunned to continue, and Green used this opportunity to make his way over to him and Purple. The violet stick quickly moved to the side to let Green through, and for the first time Green was able to get a clear look at the new sticks summoned by Second’s power. His eyes immediately went wide as he absorbed the sight before him.
The first of the two newcomers, the taller one, looked nearly identical to Mango. The very few differences were entirely cosmetic; his hair was a little shorter, his clothes a little neater. There were no bags under his eyes or scars on his body from the fight for Minecraft. Small though the differences may be, they made a huge impact, making this version of Mango look ten years younger than the reformed tyrant Green knew. Curled under his arm, as though shielded from the entire world, was the second, smaller stick. Their body was a deep gold, and despite not knowing anything about this stick, Green was immediately struck with a sense of deja vu. It felt like he’d seen them somewhere before, but the context entirely escaped him.
Green was not, however, stupid. Given how the other Mango was curled protectively around this new stick, and the real Mango had a mental breakdown at the mere sight of them, Green was certain this new stick was someone of great importance to Mango. A few theories were already cooking in Green’s brain, but there were more important things to focus on at the moment.
“Once Red’s done helping Yellow,” Green informed the two, drawing their attention to him. Though Mango was no longer laughing like a madman, his eyes were almost entirely blank. Purple was more present, holding themselves anxiously as they focused entirely on Green. “He’ll help you guys get these two somewhere more comfortable. Should we put them in Mango’s room?”
A moment of silence fell over the two. Purple suddenly couldn’t meet Green’s eye, glancing awkwardly to the side, while Mango seemed to take a moment to process the question. Eventually, the old man answered, “We can put them in Gold’s room. It’s a little dusty, but it should be fine, I guess.”
Green cocked a brow at the taller stick. “Wait, Gold’s room…?” That answered some of Green’s questions and raised so many more, but for the moment Green restricted himself to the most important one. “There are only two bedrooms in this house. Where does Purple sleep?”
“I gave them my old room,” Mango answered without hesitation. Purple seemed to flinch at the confession, something like shame crossing their face. “These days I’m usually not sleeping through the whole night anyways, so I’m good with just the couch.”
Well, at least Purple had a real bedroom. Still, something about this revelation left a sour taste in Green’s mouth. It would have to be dealt with at some point. Not now, though. Now, Red had returned, and Green flagged him over to assist, flinching a little as Red’s fast movements caused his head to spin.
“Uh, Red and I can handle, um, the old man- the other version of you, I mean.” Purple muttered, stumbling over their words. “You can take Gold- i-if you’re okay with that, that is.”
It took Mango a moment to recognize what Purple was saying, eyes glazed over as he stared vacantly at this Gold character. Upon realizing what was being asked of him, Mango’s breath hitched. His fingers twitched as he approached the two with heavy, slow steps. Gingerly he pulled back his other self’s arm to expose Gold, who stirred slightly but did not awaken. Mango’s hand lingered above them, hesitant to touch them. Slowly it lowered, flinching away from them several times in the process. Eventually, his hand met their face, and Mango’s eyes welled with tears when their body held solid against his touch. From there things moved quicker, Mango taking the younger stick into his arms with delicate care. Cradling them like a baby, Mango took long, careful steps out of the kitchen.
Purple watched after him until the two were gone, twiddling their thumbs. It took a gentle tap from Red to bring Purple back to reality, the other jumping a little at the touch. “Um, sorry.” Red scratched his head, a little awkward in the face of current tensions. “But, err, I don’t know where the bedrooms are, so I was thinking you could take the feet and direct us, and I’ll grab the head. You good with that?”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” Purple agreed. Green watched as the two set about lifting the taller stick up and out of the room. His aching head was absolutely throbbing, pounding in rhythm to the flickering light on the ceiling. But he couldn’t slow down now. Not when he hadn’t even dealt with the worst of the damage he’d caused yet.
Taking only a moment for a calming breath, Green slowly waltzed over to Blue. She held Second’s head in her lap, whispering soothing words and little pleas to awaken as she ran her hands through their long mane of hair. Though he knew Sec was alive, the sight of them shocked Green; their eyes had dark shadows under them, their limbs weak and limp. Second looked worse than Green had seen them since the day they had-
Green shook his head, ignoring another wave of nausea that rolled over him. “How are they?” He asked instead.
“Well, I can’t find any serious injuries,” Blue updated as she continued to stroke the fluffy mess of bedhead, “But they may have internal injuries? It’s hard to tell- I’m equipped to deal with minor wounds and Minecraft ailments. Not… this.”
“Wouldn’t their healing powers take care of that?” Green asked, kneeling down next to Blue to take their dear friend’s hand in his own. It was cold and clammy against Green’s skin, which made him clutch all the tighter, willing some of his warmth into it.
As if to answer, Blue pointed out a number of bruises on their body. “It hasn’t kicked in yet. Maybe they’re too tired to do it? Or maybe it’s a good sign!” Blue forced herself to perk up at the thought. “Every time Second’s used their healing powers it’s because someone got seriously hurt. Maybe they’re not hurt bad enough for it to activate on its own.”
“Maybe,” Green agreed, even though that didn’t really sound right to him. Since Sec had become aware of their powers, they’d shown the greatest connection to their healing. It was one of the strongest abilities. “Still, I don’t think they’d be too comfortable sleeping on the floor. Is it safe to move them?”
“Oh! Uh,” Blue thought for a moment, her eyes scanning over Sec uneasily. Moments passed into minutes before she answered, “I- I think so. As long as we’re careful.”
Green nodded, already standing to take hold of Second’s legs. “Okay, I’ll walk backwards with their legs, you take their head.” Blue nodded, taking a firm hold of Second as she slowly stood up. Between the two of them the limp stick weighed almost nothing, and Green carefully walked backwards into the living room. He could see Yellow resting in Mango’s giant armchair, leg propped up on the coffee table with a pillow. Her eyes followed their movements like a hawk as Green and Blue, working in perfect harmony, brought their unconscious friend to Mango’s couch and slowly, gently, set them down. Second didn’t so much as stir during the transfer, which only made Green all the more worried. What he wouldn’t give to have his best friend suddenly sit up and throw a pillow at him for disturbing their rest…
For now, Green once again took hold of Second’s hand and watched their drained, pale face as they slept. He didn’t know where he’d even begin to apologize for this.
----------------------
While Purple had snuck into this room to learn more about the illusive Gold in the past, this was the first time they’d been allowed to enter Gold’s bedroom, and it made their heart beat a thousand miles per second. The Old Man stood to the side, cradling his kid as he allowed Red and Purple to maneuver the… er, other Old Man into the twin-sized bed. He was barely able to fit, but once they set him on the mattress some sense of familiarity must have kicked in, causing him to curl in on himself to fit a little more comfortably. Once he was set down, Mango waltzed over and slowly, reluctantly, put his child to rest next to the bizarro world Mango. Immediately Gold curled around his father, her arms wrapping around him in search of comfort, and even unconscious the handsome version of Mango immediately returned the embrace.
Something sour slithered in Purple’s gut at the sight, a bitterness that immediately made them disgusted with themselves. As much as they coveted the same kind of love so easily given to Gold when they were feeling off, to feel this kind of jealously towards a dead kid… well, it wasn’t like they hadn’t known they were a bad person, but still. Not cool, Purple.
They were a little lost in thought, so Mango suddenly lugging himself up to the bed’s side to stare at the two intertwined sticks startled them. Though he was looking directly at them, the Old Man seemed to not see the two, instead staring at something far, far away.
“Uh…” Red’s awkward voice reached Purple’s ear, and they turned to look at the stronger stick as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. The old man didn’t seem to hear him. “So, I’m gonna go, uh, check on the others… yeah… we’ll be in the living room if you need us… uh, sorry again about your kitchen.”
Purple watched as Red sidled towards the door, staring at them with wide, unblinking eyes, as if expecting them to come at him. When nothing happened, he turned around and hastily walked back to the living room. That left Purple alone in the house’s forbidden room with an Old Man, an unconscious Old Man, and a ghost.
Swallowing past their nerves, Purple approached Mango and reached across the sudden chasm between them to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hey,” They addressed softly. Mango didn’t so much as twitch at their touch. “Are you feeling okay?”
It took a moment for Mango to respond. “Sweetheart, I’m feeling a lot of things right now,” He droned, not taking his eyes off of the two sticks curled up on the bed, “and none of them are okay.”
Purple winced. Sweetheart only tended to come out when one of them was feeling particularly bad. Usually Purple themselves. Still, they pressed onward, “Yeah, that’s fair,” They agreed. Then, with a little hesitation, they asked, “How… how do you think Second… brought them here?”
Mango sighed, bring his hand up to hold his forehead. “I dunno. Cloning, maybe? They have art powers or something, right?” He stumbled back, and, thinking quickly, Purple pulled the chair from the nearby desk and got it to Mango just in time for the Old Man to collapse into it. Once he was seated, Mango nodded his thanks to Purple and leaned over the two bedridden sticks. “I’m not exactly in a state to think too hard about that.”
Okay, fair. Purple tried to think of something else – anything else – that they could do in order to make Mango feel better. After fumbling over their words for a moment, they eventually asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I think…” Mango’s breath hitched. “I think I just some time alone, kiddo.”
Something deep inside Purple shattered at the request. Still, they nodded obediently. “Okay, I’ll go check on the others, then. We’ll… be in the living room.”
Purple knew if they turned back to look at Mango, whatever they’d see on his face would push them to tears, so instead they kept their eyes trained on the floor as they walked out the door and shut it behind them. Despite their proclamation, Purple lingered for a few moments, just long enough to hear soft sobs come from the other side of the door. Their heart ached, urging them to go back in, to let him know that it would all be okay, but that single, weak request kept Purple’s twitching fingers at their sides. With great effort they forced themselves to trail back from the bedrooms, leaving the Ochre family alone to process the events of that day.
Once back in the living room, Purple was met with another tense scene. Each member of the gang was idling around in total silence. Green was sat by Second’s side on the couch, holding their hand and petting their hair as he watched them warily. Blue also hovered over their orange friend, fretting over them as she searched for any change in their condition. Red stood in place in between the armchair and the couch, tapping his foot impatiently. Yellow was the only one who was entirely still, slouched uncomfortably in the armchair with her foot propped on the coffee table. Her eyes were trained firmly on the wall opposite the couch. The air was thick with tension and nerves.
Steeling their nerves, Purple asked, “How’s everyone doing?”
“Okay,” Green murmured, briefly looking up to meet purple’s gaze.
“I’m good!” Red assured, plastering on a huge smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.
“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” Blue assured gently, tapping her fingers on Second’s arm as she checked their pulse again.
“Peachy,” Yellow spat sarcastically, glaring at the ground.
Then, after a pregnant pause, all four turned towards Second’s unresponsive form. The tension returned tenfold.
Red finally spoke up, cutting off the pressure as he smiled awkwardly at the group, “You know, if Sec were awake, they’d probably say something like, ‘At least they let me sleep in for once’.” The turn of phrase was made in a terrible impression of Second’s voice, followed by a nervous laugh that quickly petered out, “Hehe, hehe, he…”
More silence.
“They’ll be okay… right?” Blue asked softly.
“Of course they will!” Cut off Green, looking mildly insulted at even the suggestion that they wouldn’t be. “They’re Sec! They’re always okay!”
Yellow’s already haggard face wrinkled, making her look far more tired than just a few moments prior. Her eyes reflected the ghosts of memories past as she once again cast her gaze away to avoid looking at Second. “Yeah,” She agreed absently, though she sounded like her mind was somewhere far, far away. “They’re always okay…”
Immediately Purple got the sense that they were missing a few pieces of the puzzle. Like, maybe half of the pieces. And the box. And it was was one of those obnoxious white puzzles, so it was hard to put together in the first place.
Desperate to escape the pressure of the moment, Purple’s eyes scanned over the group, and soon came to rest on Yellow’s ankle. Though mildly swollen, it didn’t look broken, so Purple hazard a guess that it only needed rest and icing. They piped up, “Um, why don’t I get you some ice, Yellow?” The query broke through whatever spell Yellow was under, dragging her mind back into the present.
Before she could respond Blue let out a sharp gasp, immediately turning to Yellow and waving her hands in a placating way. “Oh my gosh, Yellow, I am so sorry! I didn’t even think about that- I was so focused on Second that I forgot- I can’t believe I-!”
“Hey, hey,” Yellow consoled, sitting up straight for the first time, “It’s alright. We all know the rules: The one who’s hurt worst gets priority treatment. And it’s just a little sprain, it’s not like it’s broken or anything.”
“But still…” Blue kept her eyes trained on Yellow’s propped up foot, swallowing audibly past a lump in her throat.
Purple winced, mind racing as they searched for a way to cut through the tension, but Red beat them to it with a cheery, upbeat proclamation: “Personally, I blame Green.”
“What?” Green snapped back, looking vaguely offended by the accusation.
“You have two working legs,” He explained in a matter-of-fact manner, “You could’ve gotten up up at any time to take care of Yellow, but nooo…”
Purple snickered openly at the look on Green’s face, which only got louder when he turned his glare at them. Yellow, snorting, chimed in, “Yeah, Green, aren’t you supposed to be the responsible one?”
“Oh, we all know there’s no ‘responsible’ one!” Green put strong finger quotes around the word responsible, causing a wave of roaring laughter to engulf the living room. And just like that, the atmosphere grew lighter.
While the others fell into their normal banter, Purple used this opportunity to slip into the remains of Mango’s kitchen. The place certainly looked like a tornado hit it, with every object damaged in some way or another. Purple stepped around cracks in the ground and puddles of water splattered around on their way through, taking note of the damage as they went. Literally all of their cutlery and tableware was in pieces. The food processor was firmly embedded into the wall, its glass cracked and its cord swinging sadly in air. Purple stepped over the dented door of the microwave, and had to glance around for a moment to find the rest of it crunched up and tossed to the side.
Convincing insurance that a super-powered stick created a twister in the middle of their kitchen would be a pain in the rear, Purple mused as they sidled over to one of the cabinet drawers that had been forced out of its place. There they found a cloth rag, which they quickly grabbed before heading towards the tipped over, broken refrigerator. If they wanted a payout good enough to rebuild their kitchen to its former glory, they’d have to come up with a good story. The damage was too extensive to be explained by a burglary turned fight, so they doubted that would pass the smell test. A bear attack, maybe? Were there even bears in this area…? Honestly, the best thing Purple could come up with was an explosion. The microwave was relatively new, and still under warranty, so with a little ingenuity Purple was certain they could alter the scene of the crime to fit that narrative. Perhaps they’d even get a bit of a payout from the company that made the microwave.
Nodding in satisfaction, Purple paused in front of the fridge. They’d have to go over the story with Mango later to smooth over any mistakes, but they were certain they could get a full remodel covered with ease. The satisfaction the thought put on their face disappeared when they opened the freezer door a bit too roughly, resulting in it falling off its hinges and dangling from Purple’s hold. Gingerly they set it to the side and dug out a few pieces of melting ice to wrap in the cloth before finally making their way out of the kitchen to return to the others.
“-and so I said, ‘That’s positively blue-tiful!’” Red recited, and Yellow groaned lightly while Green and Blue cracked up. Somehow Purple got the feeling that they were laughing more at Yellow’s misery than whatever joke Red had set up.
Purple suppressed a smile as they approached, holding up the makeshift ice bag as if to explain their absence. “Thanks,” Yellow grumbled with a pout. She winced as the ice was set on her swollen ankle. “You got anything for the headache Red’s puns are causing?”
“Come on, Red’s just trying to make you feel better.” Purple scolded playfully, “It isn’t very ice of you complain.”
They almost cracked at the complete and total betrayal that befell Yellow’s face. “Purple,” She gasped in horror, “I trusted you.” Green, Blue, and Red all howled with laughter, Red even doubling over and clutching his side.
“That was your first mistake,” Purple informed her ominously, their grave tone in contrast to the wide grin stretched across their face.
A sudden, deep voice broke through the merriment. “I see you’re all doing well,” Mango noted, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. Purple could tell that his eyes had a hint of redness to them, but that was the only sign that there had been anything amiss. If anything, he was… too composed, which made Purple’s gut curl in on itself. How many times had the Old Man cried in secret, hiding his pain from Purple? How often had they stumbled across Mango post-crying session and bombarded him with their pointless complaints, completely oblivious to his suffering?
Their self-deprecating musing were ground to a halt when Mango made his way across the living room to Second’s side, taking a look at them himself. “How bad is it?” He asked.
“N-not that bad… no serious wounds or anything, I think they’re just drained,” Blue filled him in. She again checked Second’s pulse.
Mango hummed aloud, “Still, I’d rather be safe than sorry. We should get them to a hospital or something.”
“A hospital?” Green questioned, suddenly looking uneasy. It quickly spread to Blue and Red.
“Um,” Yellow interrupted, “Look, the details are too… complicated to get into right now, but that would be a really bad idea. Especially if they decided to isolate Sec.”
Red and Green both went pale. Blue looked close to tearing up. The argument Mango was clearly about to get into died on his lips at the sight, but he still didn’t look quite ready to let this go. Knowing how the old man worried and figuring that it wouldn’t be the greatest idea in the world to give a vulnerable super-powered stick to the government, Purple decided to step in. They moved from Yellow’s side to place a comforting hand on Mango’s arm, redirecting his attention back to them.
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” They confirmed, “Sec’s got super healing powers, so they’ll be able to patch everyone up once they’re rested up.”
Still Mango looked unconvinced. "I don’t know…”
“Trust me,” Purple pleaded, and they were pleased to see a little crack in the old man’s armour.
After a moment of hemming and hawing, he sighed, “Alright, fine, for now,” Mango agreed. The others slumped in clear relief at his resignation, “But if they’re not up by sundown, we’re taking them to the nearest doctor.”
“They will be,” Green stated with unyielding confidence.
Mango nodded, then glanced over at Yellow. “Your ankle isn’t broken?” He asked.
“Sprained,” She confirmed, “Just need to ice it and keep it elevated. I’ll be fine.”
Satisfied with that, Mango nodded affirmatively. He looked a little more at ease than he had been back in the kitchen. “That just leaves one more. Green,” Said stick flinched at being called out, “Hold still for a moment. You hit your head pretty hard back there. I want to make sure you’re not concussed.”
Purple winced. Come to think of it, they had heard a pretty hard thump after Second had exploded. Had that been Green’s head hitting the wall? There had been so much going on they’d barely taken note of it.
Nearby, Purple heard Blue whisper under her breath, “I didn’t even notice…” They didn’t respond to her, but placed a gentle, consoling hand on her shoulder.
Some simple questions were exchanged between Mango and Green, each one Green answered with ease and clarity. Finally, Mango asked Green how he felt, “I was nauseous and dizzy at first,” The musical stick explained, “But after I sat down and relaxed a little it went away. Now I just have a raging migraine.”
“Hmm,” Mango scratched his chin, “Well, try to take it easy, just to be safe. Head injuries are no joke. I’ll ask you again later, but so far you seem fine.”
Some relief returned to the room at Mango’s unofficial diagnosis. Red and Yellow tossed some concussion related jabs at Green while Blue smiled warmly down at him. Laughter returned to the living room, and it felt like their friends were finally at peace – save one glaring omission to the group.
They hoped Second would wake up soon.
--------------------
Line after line, form after form, their art came to life.
Through careful craft of masterful strokes, an animation came to be. Tiny little paws made contact with an invisible floor as a kitten was gently coaxed into existence. Nose pointed straight, tail upturned in the air. Little bits of fuzz were represented by stroke after stroke of line. The small kitten stood proud, ready to make the step forward, and The Second Coming looked down at her with pride. Then they clicked to the next frame, and began the process again. Frames of the same drawing were gradually altered, until the little kitten made her way across the ground in order to explore the brand new world she was brought into.
The Second Coming nodded at her, turned to save her existence, and came face to face with the Second Coming.
A reflection stared back at them, eyes aglow with soft emerald light. No words were exchanged – they were seldom needed when the Second Coming faced themselves. The quiet contained no tension, no fear. Only a sense of peace. Some moments passed, and then the mirror turned and walked away. The Second Coming tried to follow after them, as they were usually expected to, but a hand held up in a universal ‘stop’ motion kept them in place.
Carefully maneuvering down beneath them, The Second Coming waltzed through the timeline of the kitten’s animation without concern. Their gaze remained focused and forward until, quite suddenly, they stopped at the very first key frame of the animation. It held firm in place as they pulled at it, harder and harder, until a perfect copy was pulled free, along with a brief flash of a fresh, entirely blank timeline. Seeing the timeline empty of their creation caused a moment of panic in the Second Coming, which quickly quieted when they looked back to see the kitten sitting there, unharmed, licking her paws with perfect grace and serenity.
Quick as they’d made their way across the timeline the Second Coming returned, carrying the key frame with the same care as though it was the kitten herself. A hand gesture beckoned the Second Coming over, and the Second Coming joined themselves at the precipice of the timeline and the canvas. They looked at themselves, and their self looked down at the key frame. Gently their hand stroked the top of it, before it took hold and began to stretch it larger, and larger. The Second Coming leaned forward to get a closer look, and was rewarded with a kitten jumping into their arms.
The kitten stared up at them, mild confusion on her face. She also stared at them from across the canvas, hackles raised as she noticed her other self’s presence. In response the version of her in Second’s arms hopped down, carefully skirting around herself as kitten and kitten inspected each other.
For a while the Second Coming and the Second Coming watched as the two kittens came to terms with each other and began playing. Though they were the same kitten, they may as well have been simple litter-mates with how easily they came together. A tap on the shoulder drew the Second Coming’s attention over to their other self, who gazed at them with strong, unblinking eyes. They held up the key frame, then gestured to the kittens. The Second Coming followed their movements.
From the key frame…
To the kittens…
To the key frame…
To the kittens…
And the Second Coming understood.
--------------------
Second shot up from their resting position, crying out, “Holy heck I broke space time-!”
Just as they’d made it into a sitting position they froze. Pure, unadulterated agony spread across their entire body. Burning tears built up in their eyes, and Second desperately blinked them back even as their breath hitched. It was like every single one of their muscles were trying to pull away from their bones, burning as they struggled to break free.
“Ah…” They winced, and tried to ease back into a laying position. This only caused another flare of horrible pain from every muscle that was forced to move. “Ow, ow, ow…”
“Easy, Sec!” Blue consoled, the gentle heart being by their side in an instant. She carefully positioned her hands on their back and chest to help them back down. “Take slow, deep breaths… there you go, you’re almost there…”
Slow and steady, Second pushed past the pulses of torment to lie on their back. The worst of the pain faded, though uncomfortable aches still wracked their entire body. Following Blue’s advice, Second began to take in deep breaths, holding them for a short time before exhaling. Breathing clearly made it easier to relax their muscles, which in turn made the pain… not disappear, but lessen just a tad.
Blue was suddenly shoved to the side, and Red’s face appeared in her place. “Sec! Oh man dude, you had us so worried!” Out of the corner of their eye, Second could see Purple nod in agreement.
“Hey, give them some space!” Green scolded as he pulled Red back.
Yellow snickered, and Second tilted their head as much as the pain would allow to glance at her. She was sat in Mango’s ridiculously large armchair, her leg propped up on the coffee table before her with an ice bag on top. Looking over their friends, Second found that they were all sporting various bruises, cuts, and lumps. Even Mango, the least harmed of the sticks, had clearly irritated eyes and dark purple spots on his forearms.
They did this, Second realized. After everything, they’d hurt the people they cared about most. Again.
“Are you alright?” Mango’s voice, unusually kind, cut through the self-loathing that was starting to dominate Second’s thoughts. He towered over Blue as he gazed down at them. “I know you have healing powers, but it might be best to let a doctor look you over. I can get you to the hospital in less than ten minutes.”
“Hospital…?” Second repeated, swallowing down a fresh lump of nerves. A hospital meant doctors – scientists, men in coats, isolated in tiny space, don’t move, it’s for your own good… “N-no, I’m okay. I’ll heal myself once I’ve got a little more energy.”
“You’re sure?” Asked Mango. When Second made a small sound of affirmation, he relented, albeit a little reluctantly. “Alright, I’ll let it go for now… but I’d like to change the topic, if you don’t mind.” Mango took a spot on the couch, careful not to touch Second in any way. “What did you mean when you said you ‘broke space time’?”
There was a glint in Mango’s eyes that brought an entirely new sense of discomfort to Second, but they ignored it and did their best to explain, “It’s like I said,” Their throat was already beginning to ache from just this amount of talking, but it was easy enough for Second to ignore, “I- my powers used the picture as a sort of key frame, like in animation. You can jump between key frames to get to dynamic moments in the piece, to- to plan the pacing of-” Judging from the look on Mango’s face, Second guessed that they were getting a little off-topic and tried to steer themselves back on track, “Er, anyway, the key frame created a portal back to the moment it was created and- and basically made a ‘split’, to bring them back here.”
“A split?” Yellow asked, stroking her chin curiously. “So, does that mean they’re copies?”
Second shook their head instinctively, then winced at the resulting ache. “Not quite… it’s more like, I split the timeline? Since everyone’s memories of Purple and Mango are in tact and history clearly didn’t change, it’s likely I created an alternate worldline where those two sticks mysteriously vanished one day. You know, because I pulled them into the future.”
“Um…” Red looked completely lost, “Okay, can you explain that again, but in a way that makes sense?”
Thank goodness Yellow took point, because Second’s head was already aching, their thoughts spinning as they tried to come up with another way to put it. Instead they laid back and listened as Yellow explained, “It’s basically just alternate universes.” She stated smoothly. “Like, instead of the timeline exploding or all of our memories altering to account for Mango mysteriously being brought into the future, instead there’s another world entirely identical to this one, except that Mango and that other stick don’t exist there, because they’re here.”
“I’m still confused,” Red said.
“For now, just know that these are past versions of Mango and Gold Ochre.” Purple summarized, “But, man… that’s incredible. We knew you were strong, dude, but…”
Every pair of eyes was on Second, pinning them with a sudden pressure on their chest. More little murmurs broke out between Second’s friends, whispered words that they couldn’t quite make out, and Second forced their eyes shut. Unable to hear their friends’ conversations, Second’s traitorous brain filled in the blanks, shouting at them about how different they were, how dangerous they were. How they no longer belonged with these amazing, wonderful sticks. Second groaned and tried to drown out the chattering both in and out of their head, but it only made the voices louder.
Why did they have to be cursed like this? Why couldn’t they just go back to being normal?
“All that aside,” Green suddenly said, drawing attention back to him and away from Second. Freedom from the burden of being the center of attention muted the voices in their head, at least for now, “I think we’ve waited long enough, so I wanna know. Who the heck is Gold?”
Mango suddenly went rigid. He frowned coldly, glaring at nothing in particular, while Purple immediately moved to hover anxiously at his side. They reached to comfort him, but didn’t make contact before withdrawing and instead offering gentle reassurances. “It’s okay. I can explain if you-”
“She’s my kid,” Mango finally revealed. Everything went quiet as the news echoed in their thoughts. “He… died a few months before I met Purple.” Mango’s eyes suddenly darted up, meeting Second’s head on. “And you brought her back.”
An awkward feeling settled over Second, as though they were taking credit for something they didn’t do. “I hadn’t exactly planned that,” They reminded him, “I just wanted to fix what I broke.”
“Fix what’s broken…” Mango echoed, then huffed out a gentle laugh, “Well, you certainly fixed something. I don’t think I can ever repay this.” Some sort of weight fell off of Mango’s shoulders, and he gratefully smiled down at them. The weight of his appreciation sat heavy on their chest. It didn’t feel like they’d done anything but mess things up, and yet… they’d saved a life? The duality of their feelings clashed within Second, leaving them unable to vocalize their thoughts. Oblivious, Mango continued on, “Now it’s just a matter of… explaining this whole mess to them,” He visibly winced, “That’s gonna be ugly.”
Second, sensing the discord in his tone, immediately volunteered. “I can do it,” They proclaimed, ‘I’m the one who brought them here, so it only makes sense…”
“Appreciate the thought, kid,” Despite his words, the disapproval was clear through Mango’s tone, “but this is kind of a family matter. I wouldn’t feel right about having you do my job. Besides,” He tossed a side eye to Red, Blue, and Green, all of whom, Second noted uneasily, were watching them with very intense expressions, “I think if you try to get up off that couch, your friends are going to duct tape you to it.”
Unable to deny that, Second agreed, “Okay, fair enough,” Then they chuckled, “Heh, at least they’re letting me sleep for once.”
For some reason, Red burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
Meanwhile Purple stood up, eagerly rushing to Mango’s side. “I’ll come help!” They offered.
“That’s not a good idea either,” Mango told them, and if he noticed how their entire form seemed to slump, he didn’t comment on it, “If I know myself as well as I think I do, then I know exactly how my past self will react to the news that Gold’s dead, and…” A haunted shadow fell over the old man’s eyes, “I don’t think you need to see that side of me again. In the meantime, hold down the fort here. I’m officially putting you in charge.”
“Wait, why’s Purple in charge?” Yellow complained.
Mango side-eyed the lot of them, as though they were the ones who’d almost blown up an entire video game world, “Because they’re the only ones I’m certain won’t try and get themselves killed the moment I’ve left.” Mango stood up and walked towards the bedroom hallway, paused for just a moment, and then picked something off of his bookshelf. A dusty relic, shimmering bronze in a painfully familiar circlet. A crown.
Probably Purple’s, though Mango didn’t seem to have any reservations about borrowing it. He waltzed out with only a wave backwards, which Purple echoed with drained melancholy.
Once Mango was gone, Red took his place sitting next to Second, plopping down with a raspberry. “So, what, we just wait around for them to wake up?”
Purple shrugged. “I guess-” They were cut off by a loud roar, fierce and angry like a lion, and Purple’s face started glow bright pink.
Yellow couldn’t help but poke fun at the suffering stick, “Aw, is someone a little hungy~?” She cooed.
“Agh, will you shut up?!” Snapped the mess of a stick, “I didn’t exactly get the change to eat after you guys showed up. We did make a lasagna, but…” Purple’s voice trailed off, and without further explanation they disappeared.
Oh yeah. In addition to all the other problems they’d caused, Second had ruined Purple and Mango’s dinner. It wasn’t much of an offense, in comparison to all the other events of that day, but it felt like the sour cherry on top of the melted garbage sundae.
Soon enough Purple returned, oven mitts covering their hands and a casserole dish carefully carried along with them. The look on their face was uncertain and vaguely disturbed as they presented what was supposed to be their dinner to the group. A perfectly normal, if underdone, lasagna, with the added twist that it glowed a sickly green.
“Uhh…” Second couldn’t tear their eyes off of the abomination. “Whoops.”
Red twisted away from the cursed creation, staring at it as though expecting it to attack. Green and Blue each approached to investigate themselves. Green’s nose wrinkled as he got closer. Uneasy silence covered the room as they all wondered just what Second’s power had done to the poor thing.
Then, at last, Blue shrugged and pulled a knife and fork out of nowhere. “Meh, I’ll still eat it.”
Everyone’s horrified expressions shifted from the monstrous creation to the monstrous stick. Green looked vaguely ill. “Dude,” He stared in disbelief, “That thing’s like, three different kinds of radioactive.”
“I’ve put worse things in my mouth.”
--------------------
Soft sunlight poured through the window, gently caressing Mango’s face with unseasonable warmth. His eyes fluttered open, his blurred vision gradually clearing to reveal the familiar sight of his child’s bedroom ceiling. Spending nights here wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, especially when Gold was younger and afraid of what might be hiding in the room’s darkest corners, but what bugged Mango were the holes in his memory. He and Gold had just returned from a tournament, that he recalled. They’d celebrated and begun planning dinner, and then… nothing. Just a deep-rooted sense of unease and a blinding green light assaulting his eyes.
Propping himself up on his elbows, Mango’s attention was immediately drawn to the divot in the mattress right next to him, where Gold was curled up at his side. She was unharmed – which thank goodness, but why would he think she was hurt? - and slumbering as soundly as she always did, her breath escaping in sweet little whistles.
“Gold?” He grabbed her by the shoulder and gave her a rousing shake.
Like the deep log-sawer she was, Gold grumbled and groaned at his prodding. Her face pinched as she resisted the toll of the living world, grumbling and groaning at Mango’s attempts to awaken her. “Five more minuteees…” She whined, pulling her pillow around her ears in an adorable fluff sandwich.
Though he couldn’t shake the nerves wracking his entire body, Mango found himself smiling at the adorable sight. “C’mon, honey, get up,” He nudged her a few more times, and she complied with a ridiculous amount of effort, picking herself up like she had suddenly doubled in weight. She let out a cute little kitten yawn, stretching up so high he was sure she’d reach the ceiling. Turing, who gave this kid permission to get so big? Mango would have to have words with them.
Once she got her bearings, Gold looked around and immediately put on a puzzled frown, “Mm, dad?” He asked, his voice shifting in a subtle way, “When did we go to bed…?”
“Still putting that together, hun,” Mango answered. There was an itching at the back of his neck, a nagging sense of forgetting something important, but whatever it was kept escaping his grasp every time he reached for it.The oncoming migraine was already clawing at his skull.
The sound of someone clearing their throat cut through the air, forcing every thought in Mango’s head to a grinding halt. Instinct had him throwing an arm up to push Gold behind him, only barely registering the kid’s gasp, before he turned to glare firmly at this intruder. Then his glare dropped in shock as he found himself face to face with… himself.
Or, at least, a man who looked nearly identical to him. Instead of neatly tying back his hair he let it hang haphazardly off his shoulders, with bangs and curls jutting in every direction. Dark shadows lined hie sunken eyes, with little hints of redness indicating a level of exhaustion Mango hadn’t felt since Gold was an infant. Even his clothes were a wreck; ever since Gold became old enough to start doing his own laundry Mango had made a point of keeping his own clothing as neat and pressed as he could, if only to set an example. So while the wrinkled, stained clothes didn’t turn him off as much as it would other sticks, it was certainly startling to see.
“Nice to see you’re both awake,” He commented coolly, not yet addressing the blatant elephant in the room. His voice was like a recording of Mango’s own, altered mildly to add some huskiness.
“Wait, dad? But you’re… and you…?” Gold’s head spun back and forth as he looked between his father and his father’s perfect doppelganger. The poor dear seemed so lost. Finally, he pulled his head over Mango’s still extended arm to whisper a little too loudly, “Dad, do you have a secret twin you never told me about?”
Before Mango could respond, Mango- the other Mango, ah heck, that was gonna get confusing – answered in his place. “Not exactly, honey. It’s a bit more complicated than that, but…” He stepped a little closer, and smiled a tiny, broken smile, “It’s so good to see you.”
A sinking weight began to form in Mango’s gut at the sound of his voice. There was sincere, unadulterated joy there, and while Mango would never be unhappy to see his kid, there was something under the happiness that was far more desperate than he was comfortable hearing in his own voice. His eyes, though darkened by the shadows of exhaustion, were shimmering as unshed tears reflected the sunlight.
“I understand why you might be confused. I’ll explain everything in a moment, but I’d like to begin by re-introducing myself.” To that end, his other self sauntered across the floor with surprising confidence for someone who was clearly such a mess, grabbing Gold’s nearby desk chair and spinning it around to sit backwards in it, in exactly the same way he’d always scolded Gold for, and placed some cheap looking prop crown atop his messy mane. “You may call me ‘King’. At least for now, so people can tell us apart.”
Gold blinked dumbly at his father’s doppelganger for a moment, then a bright, wide grin stretched across his face, “Whoa!” He cried out, pure excitement dancing in his eyes, “You look so cool!”
“You look ridiculous,” Mango informed him matter-of-factly.
“I know,” King stated, dramatically tossing his hair back with one hand. He didn’t specify who he was agreeing with, “But to get back to the subject at hand…” For a moment this King guy hesitated, slumping and folding his hands in his lap before eventually proceeding, “There’s no real way to ease you into it, so I’m just going to come out and say it: You’re in the future. About two years in the future.”
Mango could feel his eyes widen. Gold’s fingers dug into his arm as he gasped, “The future…?”
“Indeed,” Confirmed King, and his eyes crinkled in amusement.
This new knowledge had Mango looking over their surroundings with fresh eyes. Something about Gold’s room was different. Not in the sense that it had been rearranged or had needed repaired in some way, but that it felt… uncanny. It had a level of order that was very unlike Gold. There were no books left out, no school supplies haphazardly thrown around, no broken boards from Gold’s attempts to learn some new move. Everything was arranged like some sort of display room; too nicely, too neatly, contradicted only by the scent of dust lingering in the air.
King’s broken smile as he looked upon Gold came back to mind, and the knot in Mango’s gut tightened.
“Whoa, that’s- that’s crazy!” Gold pushed past Mango’s arms to crawl closer to King, totally enraptured by the infinite possibilities the future might bright. “Do you call yourself King because you rule the world? Has there been some kind of crazy apocalypse and you’re leading the survivors? Has the Internet ended!?”
Before Gold could take his hyperactive, overly imaginative questioning any further, Mango took the reigns and pulled Gold back by his collar, “Easy, Hon,” Mango scolded lightly, “Remember, it’s only been about two years. I don’t think the world would’ve ended in that time.” Much less Mango becoming some sort of monarch, but that thought was so ridiculous it didn’t need to be said. What idiot would make Mango a king?
King stood surprisingly rigidly, looking… too uncomfortable at questions he should’ve very well expected from his kid, “A lot can happen in two years.” He informed them both without any further elaboration.
“Still!” Gold pumped his arms up in excitement, his sunny smile shining so bright that even dull, downtrodden King seemed to lighten up, “You’ve gotta have so many crazy stories! Like that big fair coming up this summer,” That made King visibly flinch, raising so many more alarm bells in Mango’s head, “or-!” Gold gasped, “The next tournament! You gotta tell me how I’ll do! Do I win?! Did I screw it up?! How many people did I beat?!”
The look on King’s face was visibly pained, and the weight in Mango’s stomach became a black hole. It sucked in everything – his feelings, his attention, his damned air – as a terrible puzzle began to put itself together in his head. The dust on everything. The longing in King’s eyes. The exhaustion that encumbered every inch of his form.
No. No, I’m just imagining things. There’s no way-
A sigh, and King sunk in on himself, looking every bit like a monarch burdened with the weight of the world. “There are… some things you need to know. Don’t get up, this is going to be a long story…”
--------------------
Of all the things Purple had thought they’d be doing with tonight’s dinner, playing some odd combination of keep away and football was not what they expected.
The ball, also known as the ‘radioactive lasagna abomination’, was held high above Purple’s head as Blue stretched herself to try and steal it from them. It was all in good fun; Blue wasn’t seriously trying to fight Purple, and Green had decided it was safe enough to not risk worsening his potential concussion. Instead he sat off to the side, offering wayward advice and vague warnings to help keep the lasagna out of Blue’s clutches. Red was cheering over in vaguely the direction of the couch, more on the side of chaos than either of his friends. Meanwhile Second and Yellow, while initially entertaining themselves by watching, had quickly grown tired of the antics and were quietly talking amongst themselves about quantum… something? Purple wasn’t smart enough to be able to figure out what they were talking about from just the little snippets they could overhear. Not when they had to focus entirely on Blue.
The thing about Blue was that she was ever so slightly taller than Purple, tall enough that Purple had to lean back to keep the lasagna away from her. This inevitably lead to them losing their balance and falling flat on their face, nose inches away from the glowing casserole. Its smell smacked Purple with a repugnant odor, like the food was three weeks out of date, and they gagged involuntarily. How could Blue even want to put this disgusting thing in her mouth?
When they’d fallen Blue had landed on top of Purple, and it took almost no time for her to begin scrambling forth to get at the lasagna. Purple sharply butted her chin with their head and slipped out from under her to take hold of the dish once again. They were only up on their feet for a moment before Blue charged after them.
Panicked, Purple began frantically scanning all around the room, from table to window to houseplant, looking for somewhere, anywhere, to get rid of this radioactive time bomb before Blue could make the mistake of eating it. Finally they caught sight of the open window on top of the door, the same one Yellow had jokingly implied the group had entered through earlier, and without a moment’s hesitation they got into form and began to spin, building up momentum, all the while aware of Blue’s heavy footsteps stomping closer and closer. Just moments before Blue could grab them they tossed the lasagna like a discus, sending it flying over the door, out the window, and into Mango’s front yard.
Everyone froze. Silence fell over them all before slowly, gingerly, three sticks made their way towards the door. Green first, getting up off his chair to inspect the damage, then Purple, then Blue sheepishly trailing behind. The sun was starting to go down, but there was still plenty of summer sun warming their faces as they stepped outside. It took a moment to find the lasagna – the thing had flown roughly thirty meters once it exited the house, landing food side down in one of the neighbor’s flowering bushes.
...There was smoke coming from the hydrangeas. The entire plant withered in double speed; its leaves going black and stems drooping down. The delicate pink petals shriveled up and fell off. Soon enough those poor flowers were dead, a single wilted shrub amongst the rainbow that decorated the neighbor’s front lawn.
Silence reigned for a heavy second. Then Blue made a sound like a small ‘meep’, her hands flying up to stroke her jaw, as if verifying that it was indeed still in tact.
“...And this is why we don’t like it when you put random things you find on the ground in your mouth.” Green scolded, sounding more tired than genuinely angry. His fingers were massaging his temples in a vain attempt to stave off what was no doubt a resurgence of his earlier migraine.
Blue anxiously tapped her fingers as she murmured in acknowledgment, “Yeah, I’m gonna go try and get that pan back before someone notices… Sorry, Purple…”
With that Blue trudged out into the big stick world all on her own, tiptoe and tumbling across the lawn as though avoiding the gaze of some non-existent sentry. Nobody was present, of course – after moving in Purple began keeping meticulous track of the neighbors comings and goings, mostly for safety reasons but also for their own amusement, and knew none of the neighbors who would care would be home for several hours. Everyone else knew how to mind their own business, so Purple gave Green a casual shrug and made their way back inside.
If there had been any tension inside from the Great Lasagna Toss, it had completely dissipated by the time Purple had returned. Second and Yellow had roped Red into joining whatever conversation they were having, and though Red looked to be developing a migraine on par with Green’s, he seemed to at least be beginning to understand what they were talking about.
“So a ‘fixed timeline’ means that nothing you can do will altar the past and change the future, even if you tried to directly?” Red asked.
Yellow nodded, seemingly satisfied with how Red’s slap-dash time travel education was coming along, “Exactly. The most common reason for this is the single timeline theory. If you time travel, you will always have time traveled, and so the time travel was a canonical event from the beginning. But there are versions of this theory that say the universe will altar itself in order to course correct. Things can only go one way, and there’s no changing fate,” She hummed, stroking her chin, “That’s actually one of my primary concerns with the current situation. Maybe we can stop Gold from dying, but in doing so we may be condemning them to an even worse death later.”
Purple’s heart jolted in their chest. They jumped over to Yellow, startling the bright stick as she scrambled a little in response to their sudden closeness. “Hey, hi. Maybe don’t say that in front of the Old Man? Like, ever?” Without giving her a chance to respond, Purple continued, “I think he’s had enough mental breakdowns for one day.”
“Ngh…” Second groaned from where they were still laying on the couch. There had been some positive progress, in that they could now turn their head and make tiny movements without crying from pain, but they still couldn’t pull themselves up into a sitting position, “The more I think about this, the more I feel like I should be in there with him. I mean, I’m the one who brought them here, you know?”
“Uh-huh,” Yellow agreed, though her eyebrow was quirked up at the sickly stick.
Second continued to ramble to all the sticks presence, barely paying mind to Green when he joined them, having apparently gotten bored of watching Blue stealth across the front lawn, “He doesn’t even know about string theory, or multiple worldlines, or- or the risks of tearing a hole in space-time? Like, what if there’s some sort of backlash from using that much energy at once?” Second’s face grew more and more tense as their rambles continued, “Or what if there’s actually still a microscopic black-hole in the kitchen, and it could tear open and swallow everything at any time?! Or-or-” Seconds eyes seemed to lose focus as they gazed up at nothingness. Their voice got hoarser, their breathing harder, their speaking faster, “W-what if we were wrong about the multiple timelines thing, and the paradox of having past versions of two people here is slowly tearing the universe apart, bit by bit, until there’s nothing left but the cold, endless void-?!”
“Whoa there, buddy, reel it back a little bit,” Red was the first to break free of the stunned stupor Second’s stream of madness caused, but once he did he moved to Second’s side to place his hands on their shoulders. Judging by how Second didn’t so much as twitch at the contact, his touch must have been unusually gentle, “You’re doing the thing again.”
Second’s eyes were bulging out of their face, but in a strange way their confusion seemed to ground them, forcing Second to focus on Red, “W-what thing?”
“You know, the thing,” Red leaned over Second to make sure they could see him as he continued, “That spiraling thing you do, where your train of thought hits, like, this tiny little pebble of random danger and goes flying off the rails into this insane paranoia tornado, until it goes crashing back down into the central station of common sense,” A grin fit for a clown spread wide across Red’s face as he described this phenomenon, “You know, that thing?”
Whatever the intention of Red’s comment, it at least got Second to calm down, even if it was only by making them more annoyed than worried, “I do not do that,” They insisted.
Green’s snickering laugh only increased the level of petty pout that Second was putting on, “You totally do, dude!”
“Majority rules,” Yellow added, smugly pushing her glasses up her nose.
In desperation, Second tilted their head towards Purple, “I don’t do that, right Purple?”
“I may not be a quantum physicist like you and Yellow,” The violet stick crossed their arms and leaned back, “but I am not stupid enough to get in the middle of this.”
Howling laughter erupted from the other three sticks, and Second sighed melodramatically, head slumping back on the couch, “I hate you all,” They declared in a weary sigh.
“Aw,” Red cooed, moving his hands to cautiously squish second’s face, “Is da wittle cwybaby feewing gwumpy?”
Second’s face lit up in a bright green blush, “What did I do to deserve this?”
Purple felt lighter as they laughed along with everyone. They hadn’t realized just how rigidly they’d been holding themselves until all that tension was forced out of them by a little dose of joy. That was the nice things about these guys; no matter how bad the circumstances, no matter what horrors life put them through, they always managed to come out the other side whole and together. What was it that got them through the tough times? Was it one anchor that held them together, like Second’s protective attachment, or Green’s compassion? Was it all of their good traits coming together, making something greater than the sum of their parts? Or maybe they just loved each other that much, that they could manifest happy endings for themselves by believing hard enough?
Envy scratched at Purple’s insides, just the same as it did every time they saw the colourful group together, but its insistent scratching got softer and quieter every time they got together. Though their earlier thoughts about Gold proved Purple was still a terrible person, they felt like being around the others was slowly, surely, making them better. At least, they really hoped so.
The merriment of the moment was interrupted by a loud, angry, “You son of a bitch!”, followed by a thump that seemed to shake the house.
Second was first to react, immediately trying to sit up, but Red vetoed that idea by pushing down on their shoulders roughly enough that Second winced. “Stay down, ya masochist!” He scolded, “We got this! Come on, guys!”
The prompting shook Purple out of their momentary shock to follow Red out of the room, heart racing. Heavy footsteps behind them indicated that Green was following as well, racing along in tandem through the side hallway where the bedrooms were. They filed past Mango’s Purple’s door to reach Gold’s, and Red yanked it open to exactly the sight Purple had been afraid of. The younger Mango had knocked down the older one, pinning him with his weight and attempting to punch his lights out. Old Man Mango was barely blocking his blows with his already bruised forearms, wincing visibly with every hit. Purple’s crown, once proudly displayed in the living room along with one of Gold’s trophies, had been knocked to the ground in the middle of the chaos.
Purple’s breath hitched.
“D-dad, please-!” Gold was crying, visible tears running down his face. Her entire body was shaking, “Please, c-calm down!”
“How could you?!” Younger Mango seemed deaf to everything, even his own child, at that moment, “How could you let this happen?!”
All Old Man Mango did in response was grunt as he was hit again.
Nobody was moving forward to stop this mess; Red and Green were utterly petrified, and Gold was clearly not in any state to do anything. So without further thought Purple leapt into action, barreling into the forbidden space and grabbing onto the younger Mango’s arm. The sudden touch had him turning his tearful, angry glare at Purple. Ice spread through Purple’s veins as their eyes made contact, freezing them in place for the entire half-second it took for Mango’s fist to connect with their face.
Pain exploded across their cheek and traveled through their entire head, and for a moment Purple felt so much younger, so much smaller. A tall stick, the same colour as the sunset the night sky towered above them, looking down at his their child with wild, frightened eyes. You need to get up, Purple! Their voice echoed through Purple’s ears, ringing heavily with each throb of pain, You need to fight, Purple! I can’t protect you forever, Purple-!
“Purple!”
Jolting back into reality, Purple blinked away their blurred vision and found warm orange replacing cold navy. The Old Man Mango had finally stopped letting himself be used as a punching bag and was hovering anxiously over them, hands reaching out but seemingly unable to bridge the gap between them. Beyond the clear horror, Mango wore guilt plain on his face, looking close to tears yet again. Over… Purple? Or scaring Gold, maybe?
Whatever it was, the hysteria of his current mood remained in the old man’s voice when he called out again, “Purple! Are you alright?!”
The throbbing pain lingering in their jaw, but at that moment all Purple wanted was for the Old Man to stop looking at them like they were some kicked puppy. The way his eyes bore into them, with lingering tears and intense focus, was making their heart clench painfully tight and their chest fill with a strange warmth. So Purple playfully smacked away his stalling hands and smiled their biggest, brightest smile, “Pfft, I’m fine. I’ve taken hits twice that hard when I was half this size.”
Mango retreated a little at Purple’s words, no longer bordering on the edge of hysteria but still looking very uncomfortable, “I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but that’s actually doing the opposite.”
Not even bothering to hide their rolling eyes, Purple quickly surveyed the room again. Poor Gold was the first thing they noticed; their eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets as they covered their gaping mouth, horrified at what their father had just done. On the opposite side of the room, Green was being held back by Red. He glared daggers at the younger Old Man, who in turn was staring at Purple themselves with shock and… something else, something dark, that made Purple’s insides squirm in familiar fear.
Why? What did they do besides get punched out?
Some sort of accord seemed to have been reached between Red and Green, the two briefly nodding at each other in the corner of Purple’s vision before separating. Red lazily jogged along the outer edges of the room while Green approached the younger Mango and grabbed his arm roughly, “Well, since you two are clearly going to behave like children,” Green scolded as he dragged Young Mango over to Old Mango, only to do the same to him, “Then we’re going to have to treat you like children. Red!”
A sharp squeaking noise flooded the room, signaling that Red had yanked opened the closet door, and without further notice Green pushed both adults inside. Red slammed the closet door closed immediately once the two were inside, and Purple was joining in on their mutiny before their brain could fully comprehend what was happening, grabbing the knocked over chair from Gold’s desk and using it to prop the door shut. With the chair wedged firmly in place, the thumps from within the sealed room had no hope of breaking free.
“Hey!” One of the two old men called out from within, beating on the door with such force Purple could swear they could see it shaking, “Let us out of here, you damned brats!” The pounding of their fists against it matched the pounding of Purple’s heart as they realized Holy Heck they just locked their guardian in the closet-!
Red leaned against the door with a smug aura. From the safety of the outside he taunted, “Nope~! Naughty adults have to be punished in the time out zone~!”
“Listen, you little-!”
“Don’t bother,” A more tired version of the same voice reasoned with the angry one, “They won’t listen to you anyways.”
Maybe it was how calm the Mango he’d always known sounded in the midst of all this chaos, or maybe the shock of the situation was finally starting to wear off, but Purple suddenly found themselves grinning at this ridiculous situation, “C’mon, Old Man,” They teased, hearing a bristling repetition of the nickname from who they were sure was the younger of the two, “You know you can’t really come out of the closet until you truly accept yourself.”
Who the heavy sigh that followed came from didn’t even need clarification, nor did the mumbling of, “Purple, I swear to Turing-”
As Green and Red went over the security on the door to be sure the two fighting adults couldn’t just bust their way out, Purple found themselves turning back to Gold, who had been watching the entire circus play out with utter shock. Purple had guessed from pictures that they and Gold were around the same height, but the way he curled in on himself made them look so much smaller, so much more fragile. It wasn’t easy seeing a parent lose themselves to their own madness, Purple sympathized. Especially when learning about your own death was the catalyst.
So Purple approached and, making sure not to startle her by speaking too loudly, asked, “Hey, how are you doing?”
Gold jumped a little at suddenly being addressed, anxiously twiddling his fingers as he answered, “Uh, fine, I’m fine, I’m… sorry, I should’ve done something to stop them, or help, but-”
“I think we can excuse you for being a little… out of it today,” Consoled Purple. They felt like they should do comfort them – rub the kid’s shoulder, hug her, something – but the full weight of the situation kept them standing awkwardly still. Eventually, Purple managed to break the silence, “I’m Purple, by the way. I usually go by they/them.”
They held out their hand, and after a moment of silent staring Gold took it, “Uh, Gold. I’m- I’m a guy, at least for now. That’ll probably change, but I’ll let you know when it does.” Despite his clear discomfort, Gold forced a familiar smile onto his face. The family resemblance between father and son was so strong it would’ve been impossible not to see the Old Man in Gold.
“Thanks!” Red chimed in, sliding up to them from the side, “I’m Red, and that’s Green. We’re guys too! Mostly!”
Green rolled his eyes as he sauntered up behind Red. “Chill out, dude. C’mon, we should leave Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dork to their suffering and introduce Gold to the others.”
“Others? There are more of you guys?” Gold asked, too stunned to protest as Red and Green practically pushed him out of the room, “D-did my dad start an orphanage or something after I died?”
Purple couldn’t hold back their snorting laughter, “Nah, I’m the only one who lives here. Everyone else is just freeloading until further notice.”
---------------------
SO. Today hadn’t been going exactly like Gold planned.
He thought he’d be winning the tournament today, taking home a trophy just as golden and shiny as his colouring, but managed to flub it up at the last moment. Then, before Gold could even start to lick his wounds, he and his father were thrust years – literal years – into the future, where Gold was dead and his dad looked halfway to it. They’d gotten as far as the incident at the fair before his other father completely lost his marbles and began trying to beat himself to death, only for some poor other kid to suffer the consequences.
Now he was standing awkwardly in his own living room, so familiar yet so different, where a rainbow of strangers were hanging around with a variety of injuries.
“Blue’s not back?” Green asked as they all entered and wait, this wasn’t all of them???
One of them, a yellow stick with glasses, shook their head, “Probably still stealthing her way back. I’m sure she’ll-”
The front door exploded open with enough force that Gold was certain the old bat next door heard (if she was still alive after two years, dear programmers it’d been two years-), and a bright blue stick with a cheeky grin and one of dad’s new two year old casserole dishes held over her head triumphantly. “Behold! I have retrieved the evidence!” She looked around the room, stopped her gaze at Gold, and blinked owlishly for a long moment, “Uh, I feel like I missed something.”
Green openly snorted, “A few things.” He agreed, waltzing past Gold without concern to plop down next to the messed of a stick laying on the couch. Without even looking he took this stick’s hand and continued conversing with the blue stick, poking some eating related jab at them. Looking past them, Gold did a double take as he finally caught sight of the kitchen and holy heck what happened to the kitchen?!
A violet hand on his shoulder made Gold jump momentarily, glancing back to see Purple smiling kindly despite the fresh bruise on their face. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of Purple; they’d been so nice, even after Gold’s dad straight up punched them in the face. A part of Gold felt like they were taking advantage of Purple’s hospitality after what dad had done, but an even bigger part was grateful for something – anything – to cling on to in the middle of this insanity.
“Yeah, sorry ‘bout the mess,” Purple gestured vaguely to the ruined room, shrugging, “As it turns out, time travel has some wicked side effects. Including literally exploding.”
The stick on the couch, who Gold had assumed was asleep (or maybe in a coma), mumbled an exhausted, “Sorry…” before rolling a little to better face the others.
“Ah, right, let me introduce everyone!” Purple leapt out from behind Gold to take center stage. It was obvious to Gold how they reveled in the spotlight, every gesture made being grand and graceful, “Firstly, presenting the perilous potion pilferer, the gluttonous god of the grill, the mighty Miss Blue!” The blue stick had seated herself on the arm part of Dad’s armchair, snickering at Purple’s introduction, “Sitting next to her, measuring up at a whopping 1500 grams of brains and 50 grams of muscles-”
“Hey,” The Yellow stick warned, not bothering to wipe the amused smile from their face. Gold brought a hand up to his mouth to help hold in his giggling.
“-Her sassiness, the Unyielding Miss Yellow!” Purple spun around the armchair to stand between it and the couch, “Now, you’ve already been introduced to the Wrathful Red,” Purple presented Red who, despite his title, was grinning like he’d just won the lottery as he posed, “And Green the Guileless!” Green rolled his eyes playfully, “But be prepared, for our last friend is certainly not our least. They are the world’s deadliest mom friend, a hot-headed herald of hibernation…” Purple presented the stick on the couch with jazz hands, “The Second Coming~!”
The others let out a round of whoops and hollers that didn’t seem particularly appreciated by this Second Coming character, who waved everyone off with a grumpy frown. “You can just call me Second,” They informed Gold in a mumble. While they weren’t as visibly injured as everyone around them, they made up for that by looking deathly ill. Their eyes were practically swallowed by dark circles, and their exposed flesh was clammy and pale.
Dropping the act, Purple seemed a little more serious as they informed him, “Second’s the one who brought you here with their super powers. It kinda drained them.”
Gold’s mouth was open before he could even fully take in the information, “Oh, so that’s why they look like a drowned cat.”
Immediately his eyes bulged out of their sockets, and howling laughter flooded the air from the other sticks. Why did he say that?! What in the Outernet made him say that to the stick who SAVED HIS LIFE?!?!
Second looked like they were suppressing a grimace, “Gee, thanks.”
Waving his hands frantically, Gold immediately tried to eat his words, swallow them, anything to take them back and redo his introduction, “I am SO sorry! I-I don’t even know why I said that, that was SO stupid-!”
“Hey, hey,” Second awkwardly consoled, slowly lifting themselves up into a sitting position. Everyone who could stand immediately stood at attention, watching their change of position with hyper-vigilance, “It’s okay, let’s just… start over,” They lifted their arm with shaking effort, managing a grin for Gold, “Hi, I’m Second.”
Feeling a little relief wash over him, Gold reached over and carefully took his hand, giving it a light shake, “I’m Gold. It’s nice to meet you.”
Second’s eyes remained trained on Gold’s face the entire time, watching him as if looking for something, and Gold’s muscles locked up as he struggled not to look away. It felt like those emerald eyes were trying to pierce through his very soul. After a moment, a wide smile spread across Second’s face, “What’s wrong? You look like a cat that’s about to be drowned.”
Everyone laughed even longer and louder than before as Gold’s jaw dropped. Once his brain caught up with the present, Gold found himself joining in on the merriment, “Okay, okay, that’s fair.” He agreed. Green’s arm slung around his shoulder, and Gold found himself feeling surprisingly warm. Despite how crazy his life was right now, even with his dad locked in the closet for actual assault, Gold found himself feeling genuinely relaxed. He felt like… things would be okay.
A pained stomach grumbling out interrupted Gold’s thoughts, and everyone turned to Purple with various levels of amusement. “Geez, you still haven’t shut that thing up?” Green teased, his arm still around Gold’s shoulders.
“With what?!” Purple asked, “In case you haven’t noticed, the kitchen’s still wrecked!”
Gold perked up a little. All this time he had been allowing himself to be drawn along by the chaos, going along with everyone else and allowing himself to be comforted by the generosity. But this was Gold’s house too, and a little nagging voice in the back of his head reminded him that Gold had the power to give back, at least a little, for everything they’d done for him. Like giving him comfort and taking his mind off things and saving his damn life.
“Ooh! I can handle that!” Gold informed the others triumphantly, before pulling away to sprint towards the living room’s bookshelf. Once it had been neatly arranged; there had been a separate shelf for dad’s manuals, dad’s novels, Gold’s novels, and Gold’s comic books, but now books of various genres and owners were mixed up. There were also books about flower meanings and game guides mixed in, as well as novels from medieval fantasies that Gold assumed were Purple’s, on account of this being a genre neither Gold nor his father were into. But pressed against the very same spot as it was two years ago was One Hundred and One Ways To Pick Up Sticks. Dad had told Gold it had been a tasteless gift after a bad breakup, but it did have its uses. Like, for example, being ridiculously large and thick for the type of book it was.
Gold opened the hollowed out book and took a wad of the large amount of cash – not as much as two years ago, he noted, but still plenty – before turning around to wave the fistful of bills for the others to see. Yellow’s eyes lit up as she squealed, and everyone else seemed to freeze in place at the sight of real money.
Purple’s mouth fell open in shock, “Wait, he had a secret stash this whole time?!” They scowled, “That cheap Old Man…”
“Nice!” Blue recovered first, grinning wickedly. She rubbed her hands together and licked her lip. On the opposite side of Yellow, Green and Red exchanged a high-five, grinning wickedly.
Only Second seemed to hold some reluctance, “Uh, is it really okay for us to use that?”
“Geez, you really are the mom friend,” Purple rolled their eyes, plopping down on the couch near Second’s feet.
Still, the worried look on their face was making Gold’s stomach squirm, so he held up a finger and declared, “Well, why don’t we ask him?” Turning towards where his bedroom was in the house, Gold raised his voice and shouted, “Hey, Dad! We’re gonna use some of the emergency fund to order out! If that’s not okay, say something!” Gold held a hand up his ear to amplify his hearing, and waited.
And waited.
And waited…
After a few more seconds of nothingness, Gold shrugged, “Guess it’s okay.”
Second weakly smiled in response, “Heh, alright then.” Their eyes fluttered a little, trying and failing to resist the siren song of slumber.
“Pizza cool with everyone?” Purple asked, already pulling out a cellular device. It was sleek and dark, with a protective jacket covered in adorable stickers. After receiving a round of affirmations, they nodded and began dialing.
“Oh, make sure no meat for me!” Red suddenly piped up.
Blue nodded thoughtfully, “I’ve never gone full vegetarian with a pizza. That actually sounds pretty good!” She licked her lips, no doubt imagining the taste of red sauce and vegetables on her tongue.
“I’m good with whatever,” Green piped up, “But make sure to get something simple for Sec. They tend to like the more traditional pizzas, and they’re already not feeling well, so…” His hand found its way to Second’s head, gently petting through the long orange tangle of hair, and Second subconsciously pushed back into his touch.
Purple nodded along to their requests, taking clear note, “Okay, so we’ll get three pizzas. One classic pepperoni, one veggie…” Gold perked up, and quickly leapt to interrupt Purple and get his own favourite pizza added on.
“Oh! Oh! Could the last one be Hawaiian?”
“-And the last will be Hawaiian, obviously.”
The two sentences, spoken in perfect harmony, echoed through the living room as Purple and Gold’s eyes met. Silence lingered in the air between them; It held no awkwardness or tension, only a strange sense of warmth and understanding. Somewhere deep inside of him, Gold could feel the spark of a new bond ignite.
Purple smiled, sauntered over to Gold’s side, and tossed an arm over his shoulder, “Goldie,” The violet stick smiled as they cheerfully proclaimed, “I think you and I are gonna get along juuust fine.”
---------------------
Thump.
“Arg… come on!”
Thump.
“Why won’t this stupid thing-”
Thump.
“Open?!”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Behind Mango, the so-called King sighed from the spot on the ground where he’d made himself comfortable, “Give it a rest. Those kid’s aren’t going to make it so easy for us to get out of here.”
Spinning around on his heels, Mango glared furiously at this pathetic future version of himself. How could he just sit there, all poised and collected like their his child wasn’t out there, alone, grappling with the knowledge of his incoming death and stuck with a bunch of strangers. If anything he seemed… detached, staring at the wall in front of him without an ounce of concern for what was going on. The expression on his face was completely and utterly devoid of emotion.
His blood began to boil.
“Maybe it’d be a little easier,” Mango sneered out under his breath, “if you did anything other than just sit there, you useless piece of-”
King cut him off, “Oh, shut up. You’re giving me a migraine.” As if to emphasize this point, King began digging his fingers into the temples of his skull, “Take it from someone who’s been there: You don’t want to fly off the handle at any little thing. Trust me, you’ll end up regretting it.”
Spinning on his heels, Mango leveled a glare at King. “This isn’t any little thing!” His fists twitched at his side, begging Mango to let them fly forth, to punish, to hurt. He held off for now, “This is my baby! My Gold! Dying! How could you not be furious?!” Just the thought of Gold’s suffering constricted Mango’s lungs in his chest, making each inhale of air a fight, “How could you just let this go?! He’s the only good thing in this cursors damned world, and he’s gone!” Turmoil churned in Mango’s gut, making him vaguely nauseous. He pushed through the pain, spitting it all back out at King, “He was pulled into some game attraction, glitched out of existence, and you just sat back and watched! YOU LET HIM DIE!”
He could see it now. Gold, pushing back against the pull of that accursed game, desperately reaching out to him, Dad! Dad, help me! I’m scared! Before his body would be overwhelmed by the errors, horror and pain spreading across his face as he was eaten alive-
Struggling to speak against his own heaving lungs, Mango’s volume lowered as he growled, “I don’t care what you say, I am not you. I would never sit back and do nothing while my child was murdered.”
Throughout the tirade, King didn’t once speak up. Didn’t so much as twitch. He kept his gaze level and even on the wall opposite of him. “You’re not telling me anything I haven’t already told myself,” He responded coolly, far too coolly, once Mango was done. His vacant, uncaring eyes wouldn’t meet Mango’s, which boiled his blood hotter, “But I’ve been where you are. I know exactly how you’re feeling, and I know that giving into that anger will just make things so much worse. If you don’t cool off, you’ll end up doing something you regret.”
“Regret more than letting my kid die?” The idea was almost laughable, if it wasn’t so painfully stupid.
Finally King got off his lazy butt, standing and at last meeting Mango’s eyes. They were as cold and empty as King himself. “Earlier, when that kid tried to stop us from fighting, you swung your fists without even looking,” The phantom pressure of that child’s face danced across Mango’s knuckles, causing him to flex his fingers on impulse. He supposed the kid had been innocent in all this, but it was hard to feel bad when he’d caught the look on his future self’s face; how could he have so much concern for this random bystander when his dead baby was right there? Oblivious, King continued, “Did it ever occur to you that it could have easily been Gold who’d tried to stop us instead?”
Now that made Mango’s blood run cold, because he was certain his future self was right. If those kids hadn’t run in to interfere, Gold would’ve tried to stop him as soon as the shock wore off. That was the kind of kid Gold was; sweet and selfless. And then he would’ve punched his own child.
Pushing that thought of his head, Mango immediately redirected, “Are you sure it’s Gold you’re worried about? Because you seemed awfully concerned about that other kid… Purple, was it?” King’s brow furrowed in irritation, and Mango felt a small bit of pleasure in finally getting a reaction out of him, even if it confirmed his worst suspicions, “Who are they, anyways?”
“They’re…” King tripped over his tongue, looking away from Mango as he no doubt realized what Mango had, “It’s complicated…”
“Doesn’t seem too complicated to me,” Mango stepped into the other’s space, backing him into the wall. For a so-called King, he didn’t seem to have any of the qualities of a king: the decisiveness, the bravery, the poise. He was just a cowardly old man, with fear in his heart and sweat on his brow. “It seems like you just picked up some random kid off the street to fill the hole in your life,” King seemed to bristle at that, which only spurred Mango on, “You disgusting, pathetic bastard. What kind of father are you, to just forget your child and replace them with-”
That was as far as Mango got before he was thrust against the opposite wall, a bruised arm threatening to crush his windpipe. The King’s eyes had gone wide and wild, like a feral dog’s, and Mango reveled the fury, “Purple is NOT a replacement for Gold,” He growled, voice low and dangerous, “No one could EVER replace Gold.”
Despite the pressure on his throat, Mango gave the other his biggest, smuggest grin, “What was it you said about giving into anger?”
The single sentence caused King to remember himself, and he quickly retreated, leaving a vacuum of tension between them. He sighed, and attempted to wipe the anger from his eyes, and didn’t quite succeed, “I know how you feel because I’ve been there,” King grumbled, “Do not presume to know how I feel in return. Purple is not Gold. They will never be Gold, and I don’t expect them to be Gold. I was going to tell the full story before you lost your shit, but to make it short, after Gold died, I… hurt people. A lot of people,” As he spoke, King’s eyes lost focus, staring at the wall in front of him without seeing anything, “I was going to kill them. I was going to kill myself. And I failed because of Purple. They saved me. I owe them my life- No. My life isn’t valuable enough. I owe them so much more than that.”
A ghost of a smile formed on King’s face. Mango’s stomach turned. How could this… sick monster smile while his baby was dead?
“I’ve already been angry about Gold’s death,” Continued King. He sounded less angry with every sentence, which began eating away at Mango’s limited patience yet again, “I know what that feels like, what it does to me. But this isn’t a time to be angry. Thanks to this… miracle, I have a chance to change fate. I’m elated,” King’s hand reached up to brush his too long hair out of his face, smiling softly, “I can save my child.”
“My child,” Mango interrupted insistently. Owlish blinking was what he got in response, and he sharpened his glare as he elaborated, “Your child, if you’ll remember, is dead. Gold is my kid, and I’m not going to become you. I won’t let anything happen to him.”
King pressed his lips together thinly and stared at Mango, but did not protest. “Fine. Whatever,” He brushed off, “That’s not what’s important. The only thing that matters right now is Gold,” For once, the King was speaking sense, “I won’t try to make you like me, or pretend that’s even possible. But for Gold’s sake…” An empty hand reached out, an olive branch of peace, “We’ll need to work together.”
There was no need to elaborate further. This King was his and Gold’s only connection in this world. It was still unclear if there was a way for the two to return to the past. They’d need a safe place to say, and while this had once been Mango’s home, it now belonged to King. Two years was not a terribly long time, but it was more than enough to rock their worlds upside down. They’d need to rebuild everything from scratch, and as much as he loathed this carefree version of himself, this King who as good as murdered his own child when he turned his back on Gold, they needed the safety and security he could provide. Furious as Mango was, he at least maintained enough pragmatism to see that.
So Mango stared the Usurper of his home in the eyes, and took the offered hand, “Fine. For now. But the second I’m on my feet, I’m taking MY kid and we’re leaving.”
“As long as Gold’s safe and happy,” The King smiled a weary smile as he shook his hand, “That’s all that matters.”
Once the truce was firmly established, Mango pulled his hand from King’s grip and wiped it on his shirt. King took this opportunity to gently shove his way in front of Mango to inspect the sealed door. He first tried the knob, then knelled down and began banging at the door in random spots. “If you’re trying to break through, you’re going to need more force than that,” Mango advised, folding his arms, “I figured if we both hit it in tandem-”
“We’ll break down the door,” King put a single finger up, shushing Mango like a child, and then he beckoned with his hand to his seething younger self, “but before we resort to destruction of property, hand me one of those hangers, will you? I want to try something.”
Automatically, Mango reached up and took hold of one of the wire hangers. Letting this bastard boss him around was far from Mango’s idea of a good time, but at this point he just wanted out of the stupid closet.
King spun the wire hanger and began to methodically deconstruct it. Even the weakest of sticks were more than strong enough to bend the metal without use of any special equipment, so it was only a matter of seconds before King had untwisted the hanger out of shape. He then carefully bent the top into a hook-shape and slipped it through the crack on the side of the door. Mango leaned against the wall and simply watched. He was more than capable of putting together the plan, but wondered if it would really work, or how long it would take for Mango to take hold of the chair. If the wire metal would even have enough hold to pull the chair down with breaking or bending out of shape.
It did, in the end, but it took long enough that Mango had begun to nod off while leaning against the wall. The crash of the chair meeting the floor had been what startled him back into the world of the waking. Once his eyes were open, Mango’s eyes met King’s, and it was only then that he’d realized that his response had been to jump at the sound. There was an unpleasant crinkle of amusement around the foolish King’s eyes as he stepped out, took back his crown, and mockingly bowed.
Smug bastard.
---------------------
Madame Marrone’s Pizzeria wasn’t the best pizzeria Purple had ever eaten at. Heck, it wasn’t even the best one in delivery range, but it was fast and cheap and good for what it was, so it was Madame Marrone’s chocolate brown visage on their pizza boxes when they’d finally arrived. Everyone was eager to dig in, and despite the initial scramble for the best, hottest slices, everyone worked in tandem to best serve each other. Green poured soft drinks with showmanship and flair, and Blue took care of Yellow and Second, so that they could get their fair share despite not being able to stand.
The Hawaiian pizza, which everyone else had stupidly left untouched, was shared equally between Gold and Purple. The Old Man had stared a hole through Purple’s head the first time they’d ordered pineapple pizza, looking like he’d just seen a ghost. And now that they knew the reason, Purple could barely contain their laughter. Who’d have known that the crotchety Old Man would have such an amazing kid?
Because he did. Have an amazing kid, that is.
Over pizza, it became obvious to Purple why Gold’s loss had hurt the Old Man so deeply. It wasn’t just that Gold was his kid – it was because Gold was a one in a million child, especially kind and especially sweet. They had only known the gang for a few minutes, but they already fit in far faster than Purple had. It was like they’d always been one of them, joining in the jokes and ribbing as if it was second nature. Watching them interact made Purple feel cold and lonely.
They were a bad person.
Gold told them all what the Old Man had shared, and it had quickly become apparent that they’d only gotten partway through the tale before the Old Man who would be known as Mango assaulted the Old Man who would be known as King. The fact that Gold had no idea who any of them had been should have been Purple’s first clue, but in their defense they’d had more important things to focus on at the time. They’d only managed to get to the point of Gold’s demise before the chaos had broken out.
Red had winced, hearing the details of Gold’s passing. “I’m sorry, man,” He sympathized, “Minecraft glitches are rough.” Though the Booth Thirty incident and the ‘Herobrine’ incident were two very different circumstances, it was likely the closest any of them could ever come to understanding what Gold went through.
“It’s not like I actually experienced that,” Gold shrugged off the show of empathy. They’d all rearranged themselves after the pizza had arrived, and Gold had taken over the arm of the Old Man’s armchair, right next to Yellow. “But it’s so weird to think about. I mean, I knew death was a thing, obviously, but I’ve never even lost someone before. I’ve never thought seriously about what happens after death. Have you guys?”
Nobody seemed to be in a rush to answer that question, only exchanging nervous looks amongst themselves. Yellow stared directly at Second, while Blue and Red leaned in closer to them and Green took their hand. The group had all had their near death experiences in the past, but this didn’t feel like that. It felt like earlier, when the idea of taking Second to a hospital was brought up. Like they were keeping something from them.
Ignoring the tightening knot in their chest, Purple spoke up to finally respond to Gold. “I have,” They confessed. It was hard to avoid that topic, when your last remaining family was slowly fading away in front of your eyes, “They say when data’s deleted from a hard drive, it’s never really completely gone. That some trace of it always remains. I don’t know if that’s true, but I want to believe it is.”
Because it meant, in some way, that Purple’s mother had remained with them after her death. That Purple hadn’t been entirely alone. It was a cold comfort in the darkest of nights, when Purple had no company but the chilling moonlight, but a comfort nonetheless.
“I… hope that’s true, too,” Gold agreed.
It occurred to Purple that they could tell the rest of the story right then and there. The details they’d been missing from the Booth Thirty Incident had been covered by Gold’s retelling of the event, and everything else they’d been present for. But the look on the Old Man’s face when he left to finally speak with Gold, that utterance of ‘This is a family matter’, muted their voice. It wouldn’t be right for Purple to tell Gold what they’d done. That was- that was King’s job. From family to family, no room for anyone else.
...Purple was a really bad person.
“Well, personally, I don’t,” Yellow declared, “I can barely handle one Green. The army that would arise from his many, many foolish Minecraft deaths? No thank you.”
Green scoffed at Yellow’s complaints, “You’re just jealous. You couldn’t possibly compete with an army that awesome.”
“H-hey…” Second’s mumbling broke through their ribbing, “Can we maybe change the subject? I’m not really up for talking about this right now…”
A round of worried looks passed around the room. While Purple lacked context for many of the group’s misadventures, they knew Second well enough to know that the fact that they were asking so pleasantly was more of a red flag than anything else they could’ve done. The group instead decided to tell Gold a story from their shared history. It seemed subconsciously unanimous that they not share the memory of their first meeting, what with Purple leaving Blue and Green to drop down a pit and then getting their first home in years burnt down. That could come later, when there was a little less tension to go around.
So instead they told some tales from League of Legends, a place renowned for its lack of sportsmanship but where, ironically, Purple and their friends had some of their most pleasant memories. Purple themselves took the limelight, being the experienced storyteller that they were, and weaved a tale of swords and sorcery to enrapture the bright golden stick. Green hopped up and joined as co-host, abandoning his second slice of pepperoni at his spot, while the others chimed in at timely moments. Red interrupted with humorously over-embellished assertions. Yellow added a dash of sarcasm to every mistake any of them made. Blue would defuse the little tension that popped up with expert ease. Even Second, as exhausted as they were, acted as the straight man for their comedic shenanigans. Between the six of them, it was all too easy to make Gold bust a gut.
This was the state the two Old Men found them in, when they finally escaped their imprisonment. The one who Gold told them would keep the name Mango was first, crossing the room in long, quick strides before anyone could even register that he was there. The second he was able to he took Gold in his arms, peppering his face and curls with sweet, soft little kisses. Gold giggled and laughed and proclaimed his embarrassment, but Mango didn’t relent, only holding on all the tighter.
…Purple was a really, really bad person.
The Old Man who would be King emerged afterwards, staring at the embrace between father and child with a wistful wanting that made Purple’s stomach turn. It was so obvious how much he yearned to be his other self, to be able to hold his real kid tight and never let them go. Then, in the blink of an eye, the mask of a calm, collected king slid onto his face. He adjusted his crown, pushed back his bangs, and began marching straight towards Purple.
“’Bout time you broke out,” Purple said in lieu of a proper greeting.
The backhanded remark was barely acknowledged. Instead Old Man King tenderly took Purple’s face into his grip and inspected the still sore side where the punch had landed. A strange tingling sensation drew Purple’s gaze over the old man’s shoulder to the other old man, glaring daggers at them from over Gold’s fuzzy curls, and they couldn’t help the flinch in response.
Whether or not King could feel it too was unclear, but he shifted positions to block Mango’s view of Purple, and they allowed themselves to relax a little.
“It’s not as bad as I’d feared,” King spoke in clear relief, though his small smile was dampened by clear hints of guilt, “How do you feel?”
Eager to clear that remaining fog of regret from the Old Man, Purple scoffed and tossed their hair back, preening dramatically, “Alas, despite Mango’s best efforts, the curse remains in full effect. I’m still tragically beautiful.”
King snorted, “At least your ego’s still in tact,” He then glanced down at the plate of pineapple and ham pizza sat nearby. It was Purple’s third slice, which they had no shame about. It wasn’t like they’d have to share with anyone but Gold (and maybe Blue, though she seemed content with her veggie pizza), “Ah, you ordered out?”
“Yup!” Purple chirped, breaking away easily from the Old Man’s fragile hold to take their food, “We tried to salvage the lasagna, but…”
“It killed a bush,” Blue blurted out, a haunted look in her eye as she recalled just how close she’d come to swallowing the rancid thing.
Both Mango and King wore comically identical expressions of shock at the news. King, more used to their mayhem than his younger self, broke free of his stupor first. He sighed and buried his face in his palm, “Of course. Of course it did. If the neighbors ever sue me because of you brats, I’m dragging you all down with me.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time!” Red chirped, like he was referring to casual criminal mischief and not that time King nearly killed them all. Purple couldn’t help laughing along with the others as they all cracked up. Nearly dying hadn’t been funny at the time, obviously, but among the many lessons these chaotic gremlins had taught Purple was that it was important to be able to look back at your pain and find the joy in it. It hurt, but it also gave Purple everything they had today, so it was hard to see it as all bad.
Someday, they mused, looking up at King’s grimacing face, they’d manage to convince the Old Man of the same.
For Gold, however, all the vague reference and laughter caused was confusion. “What do you mean?”
It had been so easy to forget, in the wake of all the revelry, that Gold still wasn’t aware of everything that had gone down. Purple could see the Old Man tense and pale as he realized what was coming, and without thinking Purple immediately took his hand, folded behind his back where nobody could see. They squeezed it tight, pouring all their care into their grip, letting the Old Man know, in their own way, that they were here, right here, and that it would all be okay. He wasn’t alone anymore. Their reward was seeing King slowly relax, his shoulders slouching and his breathing smoothing into an even, pleasant rhythm.
After a moment of drinking in each other’s comforting presence, King released Purple’s hand and exhaled, “I’ve brought this up to… your father before,” There was a strange intonation to those words, your father, and the implications made Purple frown, but they didn’t interrupt, “But there was more to the story I was telling you earlier. Things that happened after you died. You… deserve to know.”
Mango looked to the side. It wasn’t clear how much King had revealed to him, but it was enough for him to avoid his child’s confused eyes searching him for answers.
“Oh boy,” Yellow sighed, pushing back into the armchair and making herself comfortable, “Green, pass me another drink. This is gonna be a long one.” Green did so, and everyone made themselves comfortable on the couch. With tender care Second was shifted over to make enough of a spot for Purple to take a seat on the couch, which they did with a grateful smile. King grabbed the desk chair and took over Purple’s spot at the center of attention. Unlike Purple’s showmanship and jolly energy, however, he held himself solemnly, like a man trudging along to the guillotine.
It took them a moment to settle down enough for King’s satisfaction, and once they did he sighed and began, “When you… died,” The light in King’s eyes completely left him, “I lost everything I had. My hopes, my dreams, my faith in this world… it was all gone. How could I hold on to any of that when my baby was dead…?” Unrestrained tears fell from the Old Man’s eyes, and Purple’s fingers itched with the desire to reach out, to take his hand yet again. But the eyes around them, the burning anger in Mango’s face, the repetition in their head of ‘this is a family matter’ kept them frozen in place.
Gold, however, had no such restraints, and even Mango’s hold couldn’t stop the bright stick from slipping out of his grasp and over to King. His arms wrapped around the Old Man’s neck, grounding him with the pleasant weight of warm sunshine. Purple’s fingers dug into he fabric of their pants, wondering why couldn’t they just be happy to see that? Why did it hurt so bad? Why couldn’t they just be a good person?
“I’m so sorry, Dad…” Gold cooed, and King’s breath hitched, “I didn’t mean to hurt you like this.”
“Oh, honey,” Even through the tears, King managed to smile for Gold, “You never hurt me. Losing you was painful, but that was not your fault,” Purple turned to glance at Mango, and found him frowning in open displeasure at the sight before him. Well, at least Purple wasn’t the only bad person. King allowed Gold to hold him for a moment longer before gently, reluctantly, pushing him back, “but… please go sit down. I need to finish telling the story.”
With a great amount of effort, Gold broke away, sitting down next to where Mango was standing. The second he was within arm’s reach, Mango had him back in his embrace, holding him tight so he wouldn’t disappear again. His worried eyes stayed glued to King the entire time.
“Nothing mattered anymore. All I could think about was that moment, that terrible moment where I’d lost everything… I saw it every time I closed my eyes, every time there was a red light or a blaring alarm, every time I saw that cursed game symbol. It was all could think about. Every day and every night for… who knows how long. I was hurting, and I wanted to hurt the monster that took you from me.”
Silence fell over the room. While the friend group had known, in a general sense, that King had undergone some sort of trauma and went mad, this was the first time they’d truly realized why King had done what he did. Gold’s eyes widened, and Mango’s narrowed.
“But I’d already beaten the game’s technicians to a pulp,” That had Gold openly gaping, and Purple winced as a phantom pain echoed across their cheek. If King had gone that hard against the techs who’d been trying to run the game, they’d certainly felt it for days, “And the company had me sign a waiver. It’d been foolish of me not to read it, I know, but I couldn’t undo it. There was no legal recourse for me. I could’ve gone vigilante with it, but I didn’t have the resources or know-how to do such a thing without getting caught. And besides…” King’s eyes darkened, “My attention had focused… somewhere else.”
“On the game itself…” Green realized aloud. Red and Blue exchanged a look over Second’s head.
Gold still looked confused, but now there was a hint to alarm in his eyes, as though he was beginning to suspect what was going on, “I… don’t understand…”
“From my perspective,” King began to explain, “it had been Minecraft that had ripped you from me. The game was an unstable, volatile mess that promised you happiness and fun and instead robbed you of everything. I know now I wasn’t being rational, but at the time, it felt like the monster that had taken you from me was Minecraft itself. And I swore to myself that I was going to destroy it,” A mad gleam fell across King’s eyes, “No matter what it took.”
Mango’s posture had stiffened, looking over at his other self in something like astonishment, “...huh,” He muttered, “You weren’t kidding…”
“But- but-” Gold sputtered, confused and grieved and horrified by what he was hearing, “But it’s a game! An entire world filled with monsters, and npcs, and other players, and- and- innocent people!” Gold’s hand flew to his head, holding it high while Mango immediately reached to comfort him. How much comfort he could offer when he was the mirror image of the one who was upsetting Gold, however, was up for debate, “It wasn’t the game’s fault the fair booth was glitched up! You can’t punish innocents for something that wasn’t their fault!”
King sat silently, unable to meet Gold’s haunted eyes.
The utter anguish on Gold’s face struck Purple to their core. They still remembered the pain of being walked out on, and left behind, and having a back turned to their pleading hand. Being betrayed was rough. Being betrayed by a parent… well, nothing cut quite so deeply. Eager to push that pain out of Gold’s fragile heart, Purple intervened, drawing the spotlight to themselves, “But we beat him~!” They spoiled, hoping that knowing King lost would mitigate at least a bit of the heartache, “And we undid all the damage King and I did! No sticks were harmed in the making of this final showdown!”
“Uh, yes, sticks were harmed in the making of this showdown,” Yellow interrupted incredulously, “MANY sticks were harmed in the making of this showdown, actually.”
“Quiet, peg-leg,” Purple hissed back.
“Back up for a moment,” Mango suddenly interrupted, standing rigidly straight, “You said ‘all the damage King and I did’.” Purple winced. Yeah, they had let that slip, hadn’t they? “What do you mean by that?”
This was where King regained control of the narrative, taking back the spotlight from Purple to spare them the interrogation. “In order to destroy Minecraft, I needed an immense amount of power. Something strong enough to destroy the game down to its very base coding. Something from the game itself… to that end, I created a staff capable of harnessing the full power of any game item that I could acquire. I spent my life savings on illegal game smuggling, trying to get an item capable of what I’d envisioned, but nothing I acquired was strong enough. They could break things, sure, but they weren’t able to break down the game in the way I really needed. Then, during my research, I uncovered the secret of the Icon; an in-game item that enabled complete and total creative freedom over the world. You were invincible, able to place any item at whim, and had total control over the game. The only problem was nobody knew where to find it.
“I didn’t give up, though. Finding this thing, and using it to destroy the game that took my baby from me was all I could think about. I didn’t sleep, I barely ate. I wandered the city aimlessly, asking anyone who’d give me a second of time, ‘Have you seen this icon? Do you have any information? Please, anything, I’d give anything…” King’s voice cracked, which signaled him to take a moment, take a breath, before continuing, “Then, I finally found it. Through a YouTube video, of all things.”
A chorus of groans came from the couch and the armchair. Second buried their face in their hands. Green sighed and muttered, “That’s how you found us? Cursors damn it, Alan…”
“We’re gonna need to have another long talk about this,” Blue moaned, “Ugh, as if the last one hadn’t been bad enough.”
“Alan’s the human you all live with, right?” Purple asked, receiving some half-hearted confirmations in response.
Gold seemed confused by the mere concept, “You all live with a human?” He arched his eyebrow at them. Though his haggard eyes indicated King’s actions were still haunting him, Gold was able to put that aside for the moment to indulge a subject many city sticks knew little about: humanity, “I thought all humans were violent, stick-killing psychopaths.”
That wasn’t so uncommon a belief in a city run by Rocket Corp: everyone knew the tragic tale of its recently deceased leader, how they’d been created for the sole purpose of suffering and dying, how they’d manage to drag themselves from the Recycling Bin and rose to power, creating a safe haven where humans couldn’t touch them. Many older sticks had some human related trauma, from negligence to downright abuse, and though the younger generations were spared the direct trauma of human interaction, the horror stories remained.
“That’s not… always true…” Second protested, but it sounded weak and shaky for reasons beyond Second’s physical state.
The tension returned with a vengeance.
“...actually, that kinda proves King’s even dumber than we thought,” Red suddenly piped up, mockingly oblivious to the bristling of the Old Man. He picked the perfect insult; most things unrelated to Gold (or, occasionally, Purple themselves) rolled off King’s back, but one of the few insults he couldn’t stand was one to his intellect. It was, to put it in King’s own words, one of the few things he hadn’t lost that day, “I mean, you saw Alan’s videos of our adventures and you still thought it was a good idea to threaten and steal from us? Talk about moronic.”
Seething, King spoke through grinding teeth as he responded, “Well, I hadn’t exactly planned on fighting you kids…”
“You shouldn’t be fighting anyone,” Gold scolded, and though his glare bore into King, Purple didn’t miss his side-eye at Mango as well, “Or stealing anything.”
Thoroughly scolded, King winced and looked away, “Right, sorry. But, to continue, I used what I learned to seek out the sticks who had the Icon. That’s what lead me to Purple. Or, rather, them to me. I… wasn’t exactly honest with them.”
Purple snorted. “That’s putting it lightly. The guy framed the entire thing as a game. More extreme than I was used to, sure, but the end goal was to get complete and total control of Minecraft. With the staff and the full power of the Icon, we could rule together with an iron fist!” Purple pumped their first up, as though in example, “...Of course, I didn’t know what the staff was really capable of, or what the Old Man intended to do with it. If I had, I don’t think I’d have gone along with it.”
Or at least Purple would like to think they wouldn’t have. They didn’t want to ponder too hard on it – given Purple’s thirst for power and how nice the Old Man had been when Purple was obedient, Purple wasn’t sure they’d like the answer they’d come to.
“So, the Old Man and I conquered a fortress in the game… even without the Icon, the staff was ridiculously powerful, it was so easy. Then we set about following his plan. I’d go find the others and lure them into a trap, then I’d get the Icon for King and we’d conquer the world,” Purple looked over at their friends, and felt a familiar kick in their gut, “Again, I am so sorry about that. I had my reasons, but…”
“We know,” Green consoled, patting Purple on the shoulder, “We’ve already forgiven you.”
“You know what they say about trusting people,” Blue chimed in, grinning cheekily, “Third time’s the charm!”
“Don’t think that’s about trust…” Second rebuffed jokingly from the comfortable cushion of Blue’s shoulder.
Warmth flooded into Purple’s cheeks. They couldn’t say what miracle allowed their friends to forgive them after all the garbage they’d pulled, but Purple would never take it for granted. Er, this time.
Red had taken over story-time in the meanwhile, “So, we ran into Purple after an already pretty long day,” Purple could hear Blue mumbling under her breath. They couldn’t quite make out what she was saying, but it made Second chuckle, “And they lured us into this parkour course. It was pretty fun at first! But, then I won, and I realized the others weren’t coming, and the guards wouldn’t let me leave…”
“We were trapped,” Green summarized, “Stuck there so King wouldn’t have worry about us while he stole our Icon… hey,” Green’s brow furrowed, “Were you just going to keep us there? While you blew up Minecraft? Did you at least have some way to get Purple out?”
This question made Purple look away from the Old Man’s face for the first time throughout the entire story. It was done and over with. They didn’t need to know. They didn’t want to know. King’s mistakes, however painful, were done and over with. They were happy now. Questions like these shouldn’t be haunting Purple. They shouldn’t.
“There were plans in place for that, to get you all back to your PC before everything went down. I may have been cruel, but I hadn’t planned to sacrifice anyone else to Minecraft,” King answered, and Purple let out a breath they didn’t realize they’d been holding, “Things got… out of hand after you all broke out, though.”
“Seems they were out of hand for a long time before that,” Green quipped dryly.
Gold nodded along, staring blankly ahead of him, “Yeah, no kidding…”
The dismissive scoffing from Gold seemed to stun both King and Mango, but nonetheless King continued on, “When the kids realized what I was planning, they tried to stop me. We fought. I… didn’t hold back. Purple had succeeded in getting me the Icon, and after that I stopped caring about anything but reaching my goal. And… I succeeded.”
“Wait, what?!” Gold jumped up, alarmed, “No, but… no! Everyone here’s fine, that means you- did you actually destroy a whole…?”
Taking in shallow, rapid breaths, Gold backed away from King and held his head in his hands. Mango’s hands rubbing his back and voice speaking soothing comforts did little to ease his panic. Purple glanced back at King and felt their heart ache in what was surely only an echo of the pain the Old Man felt. Though he clearly longed to reach out, to close the gap and squeeze all the pain out of his child, something held him firmly in place. His hand, though outstretched, couldn’t seem to bridge the gap between them.
Well, if King couldn’t bring himself to comfort his child, then Purple would have to take up his job for him. They reached across the chasm between themselves and Gold and gently prodded his shoulder, forcing him to look up at Purple, “Hey,” They put on their biggest, most confident smile for Gold, “Remember what I said earlier? I turned on King, and the good guys won. Minecraft’s still in one piece. King screwed up, but nobody died, I promise.”
Too distressed to respond verbally, Gold just swallowed and nodded. His father drew Gold closer and hugged him tight, and though Gold’s hands gripped at Mango’s arms, he didn’t look any more at ease.
King’s longing eyes clung fast to Gold’s anxious form, but after a moment he continued, “With the Icon’s power, the staff was able to create a beam of destructive force that would erase the entire world of Minecraft line by line. And if anyone dared to try to stop me, all I had to do was point the beam at them and wait for them to be erased or give up,” Gold’s hands flew up to cover his mouth in shock, “But Purple… didn’t give up. Even when the beam was pointed right at them and their body was disintegrating…” The Old Man’s voice shook as he remember. Purple winced, rubbing at their arm to soothe an ache that wasn’t there, “They kept pushing forward, and… and by the time I’d realized what I was doing to them… they were almost…” The Old Man’s eyes, pained and sorrowful, redirected towards Purple. The sheer intensity of emotions forced them to look away. It was so hard to breath when he looked at them like that, so full of regret and guilt and something else, something warm that made Purple feel very, very small, “I… will never be able to apologize enough for that.”
For once, the natural snark Purple tended to depend on caught in their throat. All they could bring themselves to do was nod. Eyes bored into them from every side, but Purple kept their gaze glued to the ground and ignored them all.
“...So you almost killed Purple?” Gold spat. Purple pried their gaze from the flooring to where the other kid was staring, “It wasn’t enough for you to try and wipe out an entire world, you had to hurt the only person who was trying to help you, too?!”
King didn’t have a response. He didn’t even try to defend himself, merely hanging his head in shame.
Mango, on the other hand, didn’t hesitate to reassure his child, “Don’t worry, Honey,” He tried to console, unaware that his soothing words made Gold grit his teeth all the harder, “This isn’t going to be our future. I’ll make sure of it-”
“Right, because you’re not going to do anything like that!” Gold snapped, pulling away from Mango’s attempts at comfort, “It’s not like you just started throwing punches at literally everyone the second you heard something you didn’t like!”
The poor Old Man couldn’t have looked any more hurt if Gold had punched him.
Scrambling to do damage control, Purple hopped up fully out of their comfortable seat on the couch to stand in front of Gold, arms held up placatingly. “Hey! Hey! It’s okay, it’s all gonna be-”
“It’s not okay!” Gold screamed at Purple, his tear-stricken face a near-perfect mirror of Mango’s. Unlike Mango, however, Gold immediately retreated when he saw Purple flinch away, “Sorry, ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean that, I just…. I don’t understand,” His head fell into his hands again, tears flowing free and unashamed down his face as he repeated, “I don’t understand… he hurt you. He almost killed you,” Purple idly rubbed at their arm, unsure of what to say, “How can you forgive that?” Gold looked past Purple, to the many sticks sitting at attention on the couch, “How can any of you forgive that?”
For a long, long moment, nobody spoke. The silence rang heavy in the air, a blaring siren of tension and pain. Then, with a rigid inhale, Second handed their single slice of barely touched pepperoni to Blue, who gave it a long glance before setting it aside, and sat up straight with visibly pained effort. Their voice was soft as they answered, “I can’t speak for the others, but now that I know, I can kind of understand why Mango- King did what he did.
“When you lose someone… or even think you’re going to lose someone… it’s like there’s a vice grip on your heart. You feel so many things, all at once, and they all make you feel small, and vulnerable, and helpless,” Second took a brief break to cough before diving right back into it, “but, one of those things you feel is anger, and anger is different. It… tricks you, because even though it's just as bad as the other stuff, it feels constructive. Like, even though everything’s breaking down around you, there’s something you can do. Some power you can take back. And by the time you realize it was lying to you…” Second’s eyes fell, clouded by dark thoughts, “You’ve already hurt the people you wanted to protect.”
Without exchanging words, Red reached over and took Second’s hand into his own, squeezing it tightly. Green’s arm wrapped around Second to pull them in close, allowing their head to rest against his pulse. Surrounded by the comfort of their friends, their tense body relaxed completely.
Gold frowned at the group, “But that doesn’t make it okay.”
“No,” King agreed, quietly surprising Purple. With how heavily his sins were weighing down on him, Purple hadn’t expected the Old Man to speak up again, “It doesn’t.”
Silence lingered in the air as Gold struggled to find a proper response. And evidently failed, as after a moment he looked to the others and asked, “How did you beat him?”
“It was all Sec, baby!” Green cheered, proudly displaying his orange friend.
Second rolled their eyes at him, “It was a team effort, actually. I realized we could reset the game if we got the Icon back to our PC, so we ran back as fast as we could and just BARELY made it!” After that proclamation, Second sunk further into Green, somehow looking even more tired, “For real, though, I wouldn’t have gotten close without you guys.”
“What would you do without us?” Yellow teased, a smug grin settling on her face. The friends shared a round of chuckles amongst themselves. Gold didn’t partake, only staring blankly at the wall behind the group. He only broke out of this trance when Yellow’s gentle touch on his arm caused him to jump, “Hey, I get it. You only just learned that you were going to die in less than two years,” Yellow spoke those words so casually, but the ripples of pain they caused through the room were all too palpable, “and then we dumped all this on you. It’d be a lot for anyone. You should take a break and get some rest. Looks like it’s getting pretty late, anyways.”
Purple glanced past their friends towards the window and, sure enough, the sun had set along the horizon, leaving the outside world blanketed in a canvas of shadows. Even if Second and Yellow weren’t injured, they’d likely be staying the night anyways. It was simply too dangerous to traverse through the Minecraft world at this time of night.
“Okay…” Gold acknowledged, hugging himself. Mango once again attempted to reach out to him and was once again rebuffed, “I’m… I’m going to go get cleaned up.”
And without another word, Gold disappeared around the corner of the bedroom hallway.
From there, everything began to unwind. There was an initial awkwardness that had been broken by Second yawning, which prompted everyone to clean down and get ready for the night. Green and Red went to the closet where King had stored extra bed supplies, Red grumbling all the while about how they couldn’t even compete for the spot on the couch. Green teased back easily, carrying probably too much for a guy with a suspected concussion. After dinner clean-up had fallen to Blue, who asked Second numerous times if they were done before carefully wrapping up the single pizza slice they’d been nibbling on for later. She carried stuff to the basement while Yellow, still stuck in her armchair, made herself useful by holding a trash bag, albeit begrudgingly. Mango had, of course, immediately jumped up to trail after his child, and disappeared into the hallway after him.
In the midst of all the chaos, King sat rigidly still, glossed over eyes staring dead ahead at nothing in particular. He didn’t so much as twitch as the flurry of activity picked up around him.
Taking a calming breath, Purple approached, resting a hand on his shoulder. The Old Man remained stationary, “Hey,” They broke the silence hesitantly, “You doing okay?”
For a moment, it was like King hadn’t even heard Purple. They were about to repeat themselves when he finally responded, “I did the right thing, didn’t I?” He asked.
“Yup.” Immediately responded Purple.
That, at last, broke the mask King wore, making a small smile appear, “No hesitation, huh?”
“Look,” Purple leaned their full weight on the Old Man, “I may not be an expert on ‘healthy family dynamics’,” They punctuated their words with air quotes, “but I’ve seen a lot of sitcoms in my time, and every time someone hides a big secret, it always comes out in the worst way possible. If you hadn’t told him yourself now, then he’d find out from someone else later, and that would have been far worse.”
Just the thought of that put a visible wince on King’s face, the poor Old Man nodding, “That’s true. I just wish I didn’t have to make him hate me.”
“He doesn’t hate you,” They reassured, carefully watching King’s face to make sure he wasn’t getting too upset, “He’s scared, and hurt, and really overwhelmed. Give him some time. I’m sure he’ll come around.”
Well, Purple couldn’t really say that for sure. They weren’t in Gold’s head, after all. But speaking from their own personal experience, hating a parent was hard. So much harder than it had any right to be. Even now, in the midst of the happiest time of their life, Purple couldn’t stop their mind from wandering to dangerous what ifs, could have beens, and impossible futures where they had three loving, happy, healthy adults in their life.
Fragile hope sparked in the Old Man’s eyes, “You think so?”
“I know so,” Purple, master of ‘fake it ‘til you make it’, proclaimed.
Their reward was a pair of arms wrapping tightly around them, so quickly Purple couldn’t help the instinctual flinch in reaction, but once they recovered they immediately moved to return the embrace. Hugs weren’t uncommon between the two, per say, but there was something bittersweet about this one. After all, King had his own child back. This… may be the last hug Purple would get for a while. So they held fast for far longer than King was normally comfortable with, soaking in the warmth of his arms around them.
Purple would be okay with this. For King’s sake, they’d be a good person, just this once.
“Ahem,” A voice broke shattered the moment, ending the embrace and leaving Purple to retreat into their own cold loneliness. Mango stood there beside them, arms crossed, looking around at everything but Purple, “Sorry to interrupt,” He actually looked anything but sorry, but Purple wasn’t about to call him out and get punched again, “but I looked around, and I couldn’t help but notice that I no longer have a bedroom.”
Right… Purple had also taken over the Old Man’s room. King had presented it to Purple as a spare room, and he rarely slept through the whole night anyways, so it had taken Purple a while to piece together that the room next door had been Gold’s, not the Old Man’s. A part of them felt guilty for not even offering the room back to King, but they selfishly felt kind of glad that he was willing to make such a big sacrifice for Purple. Even so, it was clear in hindsight that Purple should have insisted they make themselves a room in the basement. And now they looked like a selfish prick in front of King’s kid and past self.
“That’s right,” King acknowledged, surprising Purple by taking one of their hands into his own, “Purple needed a space of their own, and I don’t sleep much anymore, anyways. Normally when I need to sleep I’ll catch a nap on the couch, but…” He glanced over to said couch, where Green was fluffing a pillow for Second, “I suppose that’s not an option tonight.”
Purple’s posture straightened immediately. They could sleep in the living room with the others – all five were used to bed sharing, it wouldn’t be too weird. That way Mango could get his old room back. It was only fair, since it was his room to begin with. And maybe they could start mending bridges with the younger Old Man, or at least get him to look them in the eye without glaring. They opened their mouth to make the offer-
“You can sleep on the floor in my room.”
-And Gold beat them to it. He’d appeared from behind the corner of the bedroom hallway, looking just as drained as he had when he’d disappeared.
Both King and Mango appeared startled by the invitation. “Both of us?” King asked incredulously, and his brow only furrowed further when Gold nodded, “Are you sure?”
“If I didn’t offer, you’d both just be up all night worrying about me anyways,” Gold huffed. It was clear from his guarded body language and low voice that nothing was forgiven quite yet – but for him to make this offer, Purple must have been right on the money with their earlier reassurances, “So, yeah. You can both sleep in my room with me if you promise not to fight.”
The two versions of Gold’s dad eagerly agreed, and Purple fell back, swallowing the unmade offer, where it lodged in their throat and weighed unbidden on their lungs. They’re fine, they told themselves, watching Gold walk away to grab what little linen remained in the closet after the friend group had taken what they’d needed. They were fine with this. The Old Man could be really, truly happy.
And if Purple felt anything other than pure joy at the thought? Well, that was just them being selfish again. They’d get over it.
---------------------
Mango had always been a light sleeper.
Even before Gold had come along, sleeping just wasn’t something that came naturally to Mango. He’d stay up late, awaken multiple times throughout the night, and be up and out of bed at what his old roommates called ‘the unholy hours of the morning’. Having a fussy baby around had only solidified this for him. As a small child Gold would often be up and out of bed for a late night glass of water or trip to the restroom, or to climb into Mango’s bed after a bad dream. He was used to his daily alarm being the sound of the hardwood floor creaking and groaning as Gold tried and failed to sneak into his room.
So when Mango’s fretful slumber was interrupted by the all too familiar rasping of old flooring, he was up before his brain could even catch up with his current situation. “Gold…?” He mumbled, pushing up from the surprisingly hard mattress he was sleeping on.
His full memory only came back to him when another hand, the same colour as his own, rested on his shoulder, reminding him that he’d been sleeping on the ground next to his own lookalike. “No, Gold’s still in bed,” King confirmed, tossing his head in the direction of the bed, where Gold slept with his back to the two, “That’s probably Purple. ‘M gonna go check on them… be right back.”
Without waiting for a response, King picked himself up and hobbled silently out of the room. Mango took a long, slow breath in, steadying his mind to recall everything that had happened. Right, he was in the future. King, who claimed to be him, was a failed terrorist, his kid was… dead… and then there was Purple.
Thinking of Purple made Mango scowl and roll back over. It wasn’t the kid’s fault his evil doppelganger had used them as a replacement for his dead baby, but it was hard to separate that reality from the sour taste King’s blatant affection left in his mouth. The tyrant didn’t hesitate to shower Purple with praise, or shield Purple from Mango with dagger-like glares. And because of… what? Gratitude to the kid for stopping him from destroying an entire world? Guilt for almost killing them? Why had Purple even come to King in the first place?
You know, there’s an easy way to find out…
Mango turned under his blankets to look away from the door. No. No, he wasn’t going out there. He couldn’t leave Gold alone after everything, and Purple wasn’t his problem. It was just a passing curiosity. Nothing more.
And where’s their real parents? Their real home? Who ARE they, anyways?
It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter.
Why were they so content to play therapist to a stick who almost killed them?
It… didn’t matter…
The way they cowered when you hit them… were they…?
Mango forced himself up. It wasn’t like he was going back to sleep, anyways.
Instead, he slipped out of Gold’s room, trailing far enough behind King that he wouldn’t take note of Mango’s presence. They both knew which of the floorboards would creak if they were stepped on, and which ones could be traversed safely, so following after King was a simple affair, even in the dead of night. They both cautiously stepped over the gaggle of sticks sleeping like babies in the living room, carefully maneuvered through the completely destroyed kitchen, and Mango watched King slip out the back door before creeping next to it. The wood of the door, while splintered, was one of the more undamaged parts of the room. While the air carried a mildly humid heat, the door was pleasantly cold against Mango’s face as he pressed his ear against it to listen in to the two on the other side.
“Hey,” King began with a greeting, and Mango could hear someone scrambling on the other side of the door.
“Ack! H-hey, don’t scare me like that,” Purple’s scolding voice responded.
Laughter followed, deep but playful, “Sorry, sorry.”
“What are you even doing out here? Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Huffed the younger stick.
This was followed by an exaggerated groan of complaint as King audibly ruffled Purple’s hair, “I barely sleep on the best of days, and today’s been… a lot.” Purple mumbled something that sounded like agreement, “So I was already awake when I heard you leave your room. So, you want to tell me what’s up?”
A long, silent moment, filled with only the distant sound of crickets in the night, passed before Purple eventually responded, “I- It’s nothing, really. Sorry to drag you out here-”
“Don’t give me that,” Chided King, “C’mon, tell me what’s going on. The King demands it.”
Purple snorted in laughter, though it wasn’t a particularly jolly sound. Rather, it sounded… tired, “It’s not important,” They tried to downplay, “Just… a bad dream. I’ll be fine.”
“Ah,” Another moment of silence passed, followed by a simple question, “Pink or Blue?”
“Why do you think it always comes back to…?” There was another pause, in which Mango could imagine King giving Purple the same look Mango would give Gold when his child would come home with unauthorized candy. Purple sighed, “Pink.”
“That makes sense, given that we’ve seen the dead come back to life today,” King shuffled over on the stoop; closer to Purple, maybe, “Do you… want to talk about it?”
“Not really much to talk about,” Purple proclaimed, before elaborating anyways, “Mama and Pops and I were up at the beach, north of the city. Do you know it? It’s at the lake with the little island in the middle.”
“Never been, but I’ve heard good things,” Confirmed King, “Is it nice?”
“It’s beautiful,” Purple sighed, their voice tinged with melancholy and nostalgia, “We’d go every year, and we were always there until super late at night. Pops would carry me on their shoulders into the deep water, and Mama would take me to see where all the pretty fish gathered… then, when it got late, we’d have ice cream and watch the sun set together. No matter what else was going on, we were always happy there.”
Were. Mango’s mind clung to that word, brow furrowing. He knew now that Purple had parents at some point, but the family they came from seemed to be in just as much ruin as King’s own. That answered some questions, and raised so many more.
“We’ll have to go up there sometime,” King responded, speaking to Purple like one might speak to a skittish kitten.
“Yeah…” Despite the affirmation, Purple didn’t sound particularly enthused at the idea, “but, normally when I dream of the beach, it’s a happy dream. So I was surprised when a storm rolled in and my Pops… disappeared. Then I heard screaming, and I saw my Mama out in the water, where it was really deep. There was something clinging to her. Some kind of… monster. I couldn’t make it out really well, but it had really big, really sharp teeth.
“It dragged Mama down into the water. She kicked and screamed, and started coughing really bad, but she couldn’t get away from it. At first I just sat there and watched like a total idiot,” Mango couldn’t help wincing at the raw bitterness in Purple’s voice, all directed inward, “but as soon as I was able to move I dove down after her. I swam as fast as I could, but it was like there was some sort of upward current. I couldn’t break free of it, no matter how hard I kicked, and she just got dragged down further, and further, and then… then I couldn’t see her anymore,” Purple’s voice shook a little, “I… once I lost sight of her, I froze. All I could think was that I wasn’t strong enough to save her, wasn’t good enough to save her, and it hurt so bad. I didn’t even realize I was drowning too until I woke up gasping.”
King and Mango both took a tense moment to absorb Purple’s story. The guilt Mango had been suppressing redoubled in his chest, creating an uncomfortable bubble of pressure within him. Despite the way their voice shook and warbled as they recounted their dream, Purple wasn’t crying. Was it because they didn’t want to burden anyone with their grief? Were they too used to the pain to cry? Mango couldn’t say for sure, but the idea of a child pushing their pain down so deeply, when they were being used as a narcotic to drug away someone else’s…
“I’m… so sorry,” King cooed softly, his voice a careful orchestra of concern and restraint. “You know… once Second recovers, we can ask them to do what they did for Gold for your mom. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”
“...No.” Purple’s answer was sad, but resolute, “No, that wouldn’t be a good idea. What happened to Gold was a tragic accident. Mama’s death was… not. She died of a long, incurable, painful illness, and we don’t know if Sec’s healing powers work on diseases like that. If we brought her to the future, no matter how far back we went, I’d just have to watch her die again. Not only that, she’s so nice, all my friends would love her, and then they’d have to lose her too. It just wouldn’t be fair to anyone involved.”
Mango felt a stupor fall over him as he mulled over Purple’s answer. When he’d learned about Gold’s death, he could only process two things: the fury he felt at the monster who’d allowed his baby to die, and the urge to protect Gold, no matter what it took. The effects on other people, on the world around him… he’d never even considered such things. How could he even think of anything but his child? The amount of thought Purple was able to put into the consequences of their actions was… utterly baffling.
“That’s an incredibly mature decision,” Spoke the King, “and I’m so sorry you had to make it, sweetheart.”
“Eh, those were more like excuses not to ask, really.” Purple sighed, far more world-weary than any kid their age should sound, “Even if the others didn’t kill me for asking after Sec almost died, it wouldn’t be right to make them risk their life again just for me,” They paused, then added, “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, though.”
“I know,” Consoled the adult. Mango could hear him gently patting Purple on the back, presumably, and without thinking Mango clasped his own hands together. “I’ve heard being in a more comfortable space can help with nightmares. You said you wanted a hammock bed, right? That shouldn’t be too hard to install.”
There was a brief pause before Purple answered, “You… don’t mind me modifying your room like that?”
“Your room,” King corrected without hesitation. “It’s your space now, Purple. I’d like some heads up if you want to, you know, knock down walls or anything, but you can change it up however you like. You deserve to feel at home here.”
“Heh,” A little more cheer was evident in Purple’s voice as they absorbed King’s words. They seemed more confident, somehow, “Yeah, thanks. Hey, maybe we can take that trip up to the beach. You know, if you don’t bring any drama.”
Now that Purple’s mood was on the upswing, King’s own voice took on a more jovial tone as well, “Excuse you. I’ll have you know that I had absolutely zero flair for the dramatic before you entered my life.”
Mango couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. Um, no. Even he had to call bull on that one.
“You’re welcome~!” Purple teased back, “But, seriously, the beach is kind of my happy place. So we can only go together if you promise to keep it a happy place.”
Context made King respond a bit more seriously, “I promise. Nothing but happy memories at the beach!” Then he hummed in thought, “It might be a while before we get to go, then. ‘Drama’ has kind of taken over our lives right now.”
“When hasn’t it?” Purple joked back, “But, until then, maybe we can go somewhere else? And we can even bring Gold and your evil twin.” Mango scowled as King snorted. How did he, the one who wasn’t a terrorist, end up with the title of evil twin? “Like, we can check out the amusement park! Or I can show Gold my tree house-”
“Gonna have to veto that one, bud,” Interrupted King, “I know it wasn’t the game’s fault, just some malfunctioning tech, but I’m not sure if I’m ever going to be comfortable with Gold going into Minecraft after what happened… I’m only barely able to handle you going in there alone.”
Mango flinched away from the door for a moment. The game that killed his kid… Purple played it? And King let them? What was wrong with this guy?
“Yeah, that’s fair,” Purple agreed casually, as if they weren’t talking about a stick-killing murder simulation, “then I guess we can do something else. Maybe the park?”
“Yeah, the park…” King sighed dreamily. Which park they were referring to was easy to guess; it had been his and Gold’s go-to place for after school playtime since the kid was a kid. His child was a hyperactive angel of destruction, and the park was a perfect place to let out all that excess energy in a healthy manner. Mango smiled at the memory of scrapes on his arms and legs from sword dueling with branches. He could practically feel Gold’s weight in his hands as he helped the child across the monkey bars. If Mango had to pick a happy place of his own, that would probably be it. “That sounds lovely. Gold could show you all his favourite spots, I could use myself as a punching bag to teach you both proper dueling,” Mango rolled his eyes as Purple let out a snorting laugh, “We could get corn dogs.”
“I hate corn dogs.” Purple answered. He’d suspected it after noting their taste in pizza, but this confirmed it for Mango: Purple was an absolute heathen.
King took this betrayal in stride, “Then the princess can get themselves a pretzel.” Purple tried to complain, but King cut them off by ruffling their hair. He chuckled fondly at them, all sweet and loving and… how could he not feel any guilt, showing them this kind of affection, when all he’d done was use Purple to fill the hole in his life? “How are you feeling now?”
“Mm…” Purple took a moment to mull it over before answering, “Tired, actually. I think I’m ready to head back in.”
The two were already standing by the time Mango processed what that meant. He scrambled to separate himself, jumping away like it was on fire and hopping across the sprawled out bodies of Purple’s friends like they were hurdles on a track. The echoing creak of the door opening hit Mango’s ears just as he darted out of sight, throwing himself behind a wall to avoid being seen. Purple and King were murmuring softly between themselves as they slowly and carefully walked through the living room to avoid waking Purple’s friends.
That slowness would be Mango’s saving grace. He turned and began creeping through the hallway towards Gold’s bedroom at the end. In his haste to escape, he forgot himself, and placed a foot down without thought.
Creeeaaaak
...Damn it. Mango winced. It was doubtful that Purple heard that, given how new they were to the house, but there was no way any version of himself would mistake the sound of the door outside his old room creaking. Not with how many times he’d been woken up in the middle of the night by a restless little golden angel knocking at his door.
“...Purple, hold up a second,” King’s voice quietly called out. Purple’s questioning noise turned to one of shock, “You’ve got something on your cheek. Here, let me-”
“Ew, Old Man, no-!”
Oh. King was giving him a chance to get away without being busted by Purple. Mango didn’t take the time to question his motives; he quickly walked, paying more mind to avoid the squeaky boards on the floor, and cautiously, quietly, pulled the bedroom door open. It made a slight squeaking noise, but there wasn’t really any hiding that, so Mango hurried inside and shut the door as quietly as he could manage.
Gold, thankfully, was still in bed, turned away from where King and Mango had set up their blankets for the night. Even in his sleep today’s events were clearly weighing on him, and Mango’s heart ached at the sight.
At least the poor kid was able to get some rest.
--------------------
Gold hadn’t been able to get any rest that night.
How could he? The joy and excitement of preparing for the tournament this morning felt like a far off, distant dream. All he could think about was that shameful confession his father – his Dad – had poured out to him. All the people he’d hurt, the world he’d almost destroyed for Gold, over an incident that was almost completely separate from the game itself.
Both Dad Mango and Dad King had gotten up at some point, but Gold hadn’t even bothered to roll over and check on them. Were they fighting again? It shouldn’t have mattered, but another knife of betrayal stabbed into Gold anyways. He’d asked them to do one thing, one thing! And they couldn’t even manage that.
As he laid there, Gold’s mind flickered through the day’s events like he was mindless clicking through programs on the television. Purple had tried to hide it, or downplay it, or whatever, but Gold knew that his dad had hurt everyone in the living room, including Purple themselves. Whenever he tried to close his eyelids, his imagination conjured movies of the others fighting for their lives, of Dad glaring them down with a maniacal grin on his face, of Purple pushing against the pain of whatever hell Dad had summoned, begging him to stop, glitches and errors threatening to pull them apart pixel by pixel just like they had King Dad’s Gold…
Tears burned at his eyes, and Gold sniffed and hastily wiped them away. He’d always known his Dad had a temper, but… but he’d thought his Dad was a good person…
Eventually one of the Dads came back, a near inaudible creak in the otherwise dead silent night signaling his return. Gold didn’t bother to turn over to check which one, or if it was both of them. The idea of talking to his own Dad made him feel worn down – the bad kind of worn down, where your entire body was sore and you could feel the strings of sanity snapping in your mind. Gold held as still as he could and hoped Dad wouldn’t approach to check on him.
Several moments passed, and Gold felt a sense of guilty relief when he heard the rustling sound of sheets as Dad got back under the covers.
He was followed soon enough by the door opening again, and other Dad entered. The door clicked shut behind him, only audible in the silence of night, and then the air was painfully still. The lack of noise caused Gold’s heart to beat louder in his ears. Anticipation stole his breath.
“It’s rude to eavesdrop, you know.”
Gold gulped down his nerves. Shoot.
Thankfully, before he could make the mistake of speaking up, the other version of his Dad, the one who’d entered first, responded from where he laid on the floor, “...Sorry.” The voice was soft, and lacked the hostility he had in previous conversations with himself.
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to,” The Dad not laying down answered, “Tomorrow you’ll be telling Purple, and saying a proper ‘sorry’,” His tone was firm, and Gold realized that the one standing by the door was, most likely, King.
“I will,” Mango replied. He didn’t put up a fight at all, which somehow made Gold more nervous and suspicious than he would’ve been if he’d fought the demand. He paused for a brief second, then asked, “...Purple’s mom is dead?”
Gold’s breath caught in his throat. Purple was… was that why Purple went along with everything Dad had wanted? Because they didn’t have anyone else?
King sighed out a long, tired sigh before responding, “Yeah. She’s been dead longer than Gold. Some glitch in her core coding… I haven’t exactly pressed Purple for details, and they weren’t keen on giving them.”
“And their other parent?” Mango asked gingerly. Gold was reminded of an incident from when he was younger, when he’d broken a window with a baseball, and Dad was asking about the damages owed. The dread was tangible.
For a long moment King didn’t respond, and Gold was almost starting to think he wouldn’t when he finally answered, “That’s not my story to tell,” King’s voice was tinged with quiet rage, making Gold shiver. Is that what the others heard, when his Dad tried to destroy a world? Or was Gold’s father louder in his villainy? “And if I tried, I’d genuinely get too angry to sleep. Just know that if I had my way, that stick would NEVER get anywhere near Purple again.”
“So my hunch was correct,” Mango’s voice was quiet, almost inaudible, “The kid’s an abuse victim.”
Oh, and it just got worse.
“Like I said, Purple’s story isn’t mine to tell.” King spoke through gritted teeth, “If you want the details, you can ask them like the adult you’re supposed to be. But I’m not saying anything else about it. I don’t even think Purple knows how much I know about their previous home.”
Mango scoffed, “No wonder the kid’s so attached. How can you not feel guilty?”
“Guilty?” King echoed.
“For using that kid like you are? For taking in some sad, pitiable orphan just to make them replace your dead child?”
That- that wasn’t true, Gold forced himself to think. There was no way that Gold’s Dad would do that to some poor kid, right? But… there was no way Gold’s Dad would commit attempted murder, or destroy an entire world, either. He searched himself for some sign, any sign, that his Dad wouldn’t do that to Purple, and was met only with a clawing emptiness in his chest.
At this point, Gold didn’t know what to think of his own father.
“I’ve already told you,” Anger crept into King’s voice, though he kept the volume low, “Purple is not a replacement for Gold. They’re not some pet project, or some band-aid solution I’ll abandon now that Gold’s back.”
“...Well, it’s not like it’s my business,” Mango dismissed. Gold could hear rustling as he turned away from King, “Once I have the money, Gold and I are out of here. After that? You and your sad orphan can play happy house all you like.”
Bile churned in Gold’s stomach. How could his dad talk like that about Purple? After what they’d done for Gold? After what he’d learned about them?
Was his Dad always a bad person, and Gold had just been too stupid to see it?
The argument may have continued, but Gold was beyond caring. Bitter resentment and sour guilt pooled in his stomach to create a nauseating mixture. He couldn’t understand; how could his Dad claim to love him while using his death as an excuse to treat the people around him like trash? And poor Purple, caught in the middle. King’s emotional support and Mango’s target of resentment, allowing themselves to take on the Ochre family’s burdens so the rest of them could be happy. It felt to Gold like someone should take on Purple’s burdens, for once.
And if his father wasn’t up to the task? Well, then Gold would have to do it instead.
---------------------
(Inhale) So.
I've been itching to put this story down for a while. My original idea was to make it a comic, but after some thought I decided to make it a fanfic instead. I just didn't expected it to be so LONG. Seriously, this is a multichapter fic and this is chapter ONE. Oh boy.
Feel free to let me know what you think so far, or if you come across any typos or anything. I did my best to edit, but this ended up being a lot longer than I'd expected. There were just so many little moments I'd wanted to include, I couldn't bring myself to cut anything.
I'm not sure how often I'm going to update this fic. It took like a month of work to write and draw everything, and I do have other things I want to do. But I'll do my best, I promise.
#Okay so I found this through ao3 and I flipped. I'm too scared to comment on there so I'm going feral here.#OHMYBDCHFUCKFIGN GODTV YOUREW THE PERSOEN YOUREE THE THE TFRWLLE yOURE THE FELLA I KNEW FROM MY THSC PHASE!!!!! YOURE THE ONE WHO WROTE VS!!#(Valiant Souls I mean) OH MY GODSHGDHEAVENS!!! I ADOREW THIS#side note: I think I have an inadvertent fondness of sticks BUT that aside#OH MY GOD KING ORANGE AND PURPLE AND TSC AND RED AND THE REST OF THE COLOR GANG!!!!!#(You can tell who's the favorites from who gets mentioned first.)#YOU DON'T KNOW HOW QUICKLY I SCRAMBLED TO READ THIS FIC AFTER I SEARCHED UP VS ON AO3 REREAD THE CLOSING CHAPTERS OF IT#(Can't believe I was still lurking there to see the tumblr banner change during an important chapters release I liked VS a lot did you know)#I looked at your profile there and flipped when I saw AvA there but why was I surprised I thought. Sticks. Of course. Of course you did.#I LOVE THIS FIC??? I LOVE HOW YOU CAN MAKE ME HATE MY THEORETICAL PAST SELF AND HOW I KNOW I'D BE TOO STUBBORN TO SEE MY OWN DOWNFALL??#YOU POTRAYED THAT FEELING SO WELL?? THE IDEA OF LOOKING AT A MIRROR OF YOUR PAST SELF? *cough* sorry anYway. The idea that even as you con-#convince your past self on why falling into this rabbit hole™ of rage you know you'll fall into is bad but your past self thinks you're-#you're big bad and stupid and does the Thing™ you know will get him into trouble and only hurting others around him in ways he doesn't reali#(I am looking at one person. Hi Mango- no not you King hi King)#Tell Gold I said hi./j#SPEAKING OF GOLD — CALL ME INSANE BUT IT'S FUNNY HOW PURPLE HAS MUCH IN COMMON WITH GOLD BUT NOT (This was mentioned wasn't it?#‘the more differences I find between them the parallels alike them outweigh’ or something of the like. Mango(King) you funny man.)#JXNSDKAJFHSJDJSJDJSJD#Okay sorry but I looked at the cover again.#I still sincerely believe that is NOT a trophy#That looks either like an IV bag (what's it called?) or a hamster bottle or like someone else said — a water bottle. No offense —#I have severe processing issues./hj#I love that charming mistake.#And final note. I think.#Clearly this fic wasn't designed to be visualized with the design for KO/MT I had in mind because an averagely heavy man pinning down some—#some burly mf who's just taking the brunt sounds utterly comedic. (Mango the former King the latter. Of course.)#I adore this fic I came cause I know you for writing good Sticks and what do I come back to? You writing good sticks. I actually love that.#AvA#AvM#King Orange
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i hope your finger’s ok!! please take all the time you need and remember you health comes first :) imma be selfish and send you a charles request cause ur writing makes me smile at my phone like an idiot and i can’t help it :p ok so!! charles x versteppen reader? shes max’s sister and drives for redbull (cause im delulu like that) and they’ve been fighting w each other since they were kids (no one knows why they started arguing they’re j petty and refuse to give it up even though they dk what they’re arguing abt anymore) and obvs they’re in love w each other - maybe another drivers flirting w her or smth and charles j snaps and hard launches the reader cause surprise they’ve been dating each other 🤭 holy shit this is long sorry for rambling 🙏🙏
angel baby, devil child | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x verstappen!reader
enemies to lovers blah blah blah
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 1,743,200 others
yourusername: crazy, crazy race. sorry not sorry to the tifosi, tell ur girl @charles_leclerc to kiss my ass not my rear tyre xoxo
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user1: okay they're clearly still in the enemies phase... when can we skip to lovers
user2: i personally love that charles is the mortal enemy of both verstappen siblings that's so slay of him
maxverstappen1: crop me out again and say goodbye to a tow in qualifying
yourusername: sorry maxy, not my fault i got all the photogenic genes xx
maxverstappen1: erm rude @christianhorner tell her to stop bullying me
yourusername: two can play at that game @sebastianvettel tell max to stop being a baby
user3: the way neither christian or seb replied they really don't get paid enough to deal with them
charles_leclerc: what is it with verstappens and their love for pushing me off the track
yourusername: what is it with your front wing and my rear tyre
charles_leclerc: umm i asked you first
yourusername: stop deflecting babe, we all know you love my ass so much you wanted a touch
charles_leclerc: i'd rather deep fry my hands than touch your rear
maxverstappen1: that can be arranged
user4: can't wait for these three to all be in the same press conference next week 🍿
carlossainz55: my favourite person to share the podium with
yourusername: thanks chilli (@tifosi you heard it here sainz is against ferrari 1-2s)
carlossainz55: NO that's not what i meant
landonorris: i see how it is ... god all men are the same AM I NOT PRETTY ENOUGH FOR YOU?
maxverstappen1
liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 1,204,809 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: happy birthday to my bestest friend, biggest rival and favourite roommate. though maybe now you're 23 you can get your own place so you can sneak out to meet up with your secret boyfriend on your own terms and can keep that massive ballsack away from jimmy and sassy. i love you and verstappen dominance 4 ever.
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user7: i love y/n but i think she should bring her cat to races as a scare tactic
yourusername: wrinkle doesn't appreciate your tone but it is duly noted
yourusername: awwwwwwwww i love you maxy !! and you're never getting rid of your little sister unless you get married and ur a big fat nerd so that's never happening xx
maxverstappen1: attacking me after i just bought you a whole ass car
yourusername: i JOKE. thank you soooo much and you'll never get rid of me you love me too much to anyway.
maxverstappen1: enough to finally introduce me to the mystery man?
yourusername: blocked.
user8: are we all just ignoring her doing her literal eyeliner with a knife?
user9: or the fact that max likely walked in and was like oh wait this is a sick shot
danielricciardo: oh no that was me, i'm still traumatised but it's probably the best photo i've ever taken
yourusername: easy to do with a model like me
charles_leclerc: wtf is that thing in the last one
yourusername: rude of you to think ur balls look any nicer
charles_leclerc: what?
yourusername: what?
user10: does anyone want to elaborate?
carlossainz55: happy birthday y/n !
yourusername: thanks carlos, thank you for the flowers 👍
user11: this is either their way of flirting or y/n really couldn't give a flying fuck about carlos' obvious crush on her
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 2,098,560 others
yourusername: another trip around the sun and still following my brother around, difference is now i beat him x
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user16: your honour i am so obsessed with her
maxverstappen1: can't even be angry about it, you deserve the world
yourusername: you softy, i love you
maxverstappen1: also dummy i know who your boyfriend is now did you guys forget that we LITERALLY LIVE TOGETHER
yourusername: i was intoxicated my bad but we bought you breakfast?
maxverstappen1: literally the only reason he hasn't gone over the balcony, he might want to be gone before this hangover wears off
yourusername: noted.
user17: yall want to share with the class?
user18: based on ^^ this reaction i'm going to say it's not carlos
user19: watch out he'll drop a shit pick-up line in a second and be rejected
carlossainz55: hope you enjoyed your birthday beautiful
user20: bro this guy STINKS
user19: i told yall
yourusername: thank you carlos
user21: i'm sorry this is dry as hell it can't be carlos
charles_leclerc: my shoes will never recover, i'll be sending an invoice your way
yourusername: you're a millionaire boo, you can replace those tacky white trainers yourself
charles_leclerc: is having no manners a verstappen trait?
yourusername: come for max all you want, but the birthday girl? low leclerc
charles_leclerc: when you go low i go lower
yourusername: oh believe me i know all about you and going down
user22: DO YALL MIND?
user23: do they think we're dumb?
charles_leclerc
liked by pierregasly, lancestroll and 1,204,674 others
charles_leclerc: a weekend without racing?
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user24: what is biden doing about the soft launch pandemic?
user25: well this is oddly timed ...
yourusername: you look like you'd have sweaty hands
charles_leclerc: wouldn't you like to know
yourusername: unlike all ur fangirls i've actually smelt you sweaty after a race so you can keep your hands to yourself
maxverstappen1: you heard her 🤨
charles_leclerc: why are you here? is this a 2 for 1 deal on annoying dutch people
yourusername: you can call him annoying all you want, but you love me don't lie
charles_leclerc: my lawyer says i shouldn't comment on that ;)
sebastianvettel: when will you two stop?
yourusername: sorry seb :(
charles_leclerc: sorry seb :(
user26: i know carlos is sick reading this weird flirting when y/n never comments on his pics
user27: she comes here just to flirt cause she didn't even like the photo
user28: she doesn't even follow him 😭
pierregasly: i love a slow burn as much as the next person BUT NOT WHEN I DON'T KNOW WHO IT IS PICK UP THE PHONE
charles_leclerc: you're so dramatic, nobody knows calmar
maxverstappen1: he's lying i do
pierregasly: WHAT
charles_leclerc: by ACCIDENT i didn't tell him by choice
user29: so like, it's definitely y/n LOL
user30: oh no everyone get ready marca is going to run a story tomorrow about how charles leclerc is ruining carlos' career with psychological warfare by flirting with the girl he likes
user31: sainz sr about to wage war lol
charles_leclerc
liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 2,304,889 others
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charles_leclerc: i don't share. i love you. please follow me on instagram now (and let me come on max's jet) x
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user35: HOLY FUCK
user36: they're so fucking sexy my lord
yourusername: you're so weak, one teammate flirts with me and you hard launch, i've had 12 year olds use me as a face claim to pretend they're pregnant with your child
charles_leclerc: they took your face? i happen to quite like it, can they give it back?
yourusername: quite?
charles_leclerc: don't make me look bad you know i positively LOVE YOUR FACE
yourusername: and my ass since it's all you look at on track
charles_leclerc: okay you can drop the act now people know we're in love stop being mean to me :(
yourusername: but it's true, no?
charles_leclerc: rest assured i love your actual ass much more
maxverstappen1: believe me the people she lives with know WAY too much about how much you love it
user37: carlos sainz really thought he had a chance when these fools have been together for TWO years
sebastianvettel: congratulations you two, glad we don't have to watch you two trying to be subtle now
maxverstappen1: so wait when did you find out?
sebastianvettel: about two weeks into the relationship, they were very obvious
yourusername: thank you for keeping our secret dad <3
user38: y/n really said you ARE my grid dad
yourusername: oh no that's my actual dad
charles_leclerc: he's literally going to walk y/n down the aisle
maxverstappen1: please don't tell me you're engaged? i only just got over you actually being together
charles_leclerc: i'm not your brother yet don't worry (i will be soon)
carlossainz55: congrats guys
user39: it's okay bro you can cry
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 2,301,541 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: two years with the love of my life, still on max's side on val d'argenton x
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user40: they're disgusting (when will it happen to me)
charles_leclerc: we'll have to agree to disagree
yourusername: just admit it you love to push verstappens off the track
charles_leclerc: sorry babe as much as i love you, i'll never let you win x
yourusername: good thing i always beat you then x
charles_leclerc: either way victory sex still bangs
user41: yes, yes they're cute, but i need a full on play-by-play of how this relationship came to be
user42: i know these menaces were giggling and kicking their feet every time they had an argument in comment sections
yourusername: oh it was very fun
charles_leclerc: but the radio messaged are 100% real lol
maxverstappen1: thanks for having my back, you're welcome for all the gross pictures i've taken for you guys
yourusername: consider your payment like every meal i make us
maxverstappen1: well if i did it f1 would be down three drivers
user43: wait so does charles basically live with them now?
maxverstappen1: unfortunately yes. depressing music, even worse cooking than me and horrendously loud sex with my sister. i should kick him out
charles_leclerc: i literally bought you noise-cancelling headphones?
maxverstappen1: nothing you can say will save me from this trauma
yourusername: just shag daniel and get off of our case x
note: ahhhhh i am so sorry this request took so long, my inbox keeps moving stuff around lol. my finger is good thanks for asking, the human body is a wonder and i peeled off the last of my scab this week lol. i hope this was the kinda thing you were looking for !! xx
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 x you#f1#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc instagram edit#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc instagram au#charles leclerc x you
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slytherin boys: pet names for you
authors note: heavily inspired by them slytherin boys react tiktoks i keep seeing everywhere. readers gender isnt specified.
possible tw: over working yourself (idk), mention of weed/being stoned, bullying possibly if you squint, drinking
Draco Malfoy;
- darling
- i feel like he'd use it in a slightly mocking tone before you guys became offical but after it would the most common pet name he used
"you should leave harry and his friends alone!" Draco wasnt known as the nicest boy in hogwarts, which didnt suprise you after seeing his relentless behaviour to the so called 'chosen one'. "oh yeah, darling?" he quipped back. God he was insufferable.
"darling? you here?" Your boyfriend had just got back from quidditch practice. You could tell he was exhausted the way he stumbled into his dorm already taking his uniform off and slumping it into the washing basket. He worked really hard but you knew best how he could over work himself. When he saw you his face softened. You outstretched your arms allowing him to enter them. "i'm going to take a shower first." At least he was taking care of himself.
Mattheo Riddle;
- bro is such a princess/prince man
- it obviously comes with the princess/prince treatment ig
- similiar to Draco he would tease you with it before dating but after seeing you blush and stutter, why would he ever stop using it?
You had came late to Snape's lesson, which was your first mistake; struggling to find your seat was the second. "sir, there aren't any seats left." Snape glared over at you clearly bothered by your disruption. "well miss/mr (l/n) if you had not arrived late to my lesson, there may have been a seat left for you." and with that he resumed his original task. "there's a seat next to me, princess/prince." Turning your head to meet the one and only Dark Lord's son, only to see him nodding towards the empty seat next to him and his fave plastered with a big smirk. "o-oh, erm... thank you" Did he just call you princess/prince?
It was if your own knees had betrayed you giving out underneath you and causing you to collapse onto the common room couch. You were exhausted all the exams and revision had really taking it out of you, not to mention quidditch practice in the early hours of the morning. "Hey, Princess/Prince." The sound of his voice was comforting and caused you to snuggle into his side. "You okay?" before Mattheo could get a reply, you had already drifted off.
Theodore Nott;
- angel (i couldnt decide between theo and enzo)
- he wouldn't use this to tease you at all he would use it more when he's feeling soft lol
Someone's arms sneak around your waist and pull you close to their chest. Startled, you spin on your heels ready to bitch slap this boy into next week. When you're met with the handsome face of your boyfriend, that idea goes out the window. He pulls you furthur into him and rests his head in your neck. "Hello, Angel. Have you missed me?" You whine causing Theo to chuckle into your neck.
Lorenzo Berkshire;
- sweetheart
- enzo is just a soft boy being raised by women he knows how to treat them right too
The night of the yule ball was finally happening. Lorenzo had made it his mission to get you as his date and when it had finally happened, it was safe to say the boy couldnt be happier. He was on his way to collect you from your dorm. Knocking on the door, he could hear you on the other side before the door opened revealing you in your ball attire. "wow you look- you look amazing. No not amazing, you look stunning, sweetheart." You giggled at his antics. "give me a spin?" You spun showing off the outfit, pansy had helped you chose.
Blaise Zabini;
- babe
- i feel like blaise is very whiny lol and he would definitely drag out the 'e' on babe espeacially when hes stoned (i need to write a fic aboutstoned blaise hes stuck in my head)
Common room parties were common, if you excuse the pun. You had been to many through out your years in slytherin and enjoyed the laughter and fun you had. Right now though , your in need of another drink. Your boyfriend had other plans though and was determind to keep you by his side. He smelt strong of weed and alcohol, he wasn't doing much to cover up the fact he was most definately drunk and stoned. Wriggling out of his grasp, you get up to find another drink. "babeeeee! where you goin?" His words were slurred and his senstences were missing words. He will just have to deal with out you for 2 minutes, you were sure he could manage that.
Tom Riddle;
- lets be honest he'd definitely call you something degrading in and out of the bedroom
- but since we're all delulu he calls you my love
- its a rare occasion as he isn't big on pet names but he does use them
"what are you doing?" Startled by the sudden stern voice, you jump. "i was just seeing if you had a spare tie i could borrow?" You felt shy under his eyes. "oh my love, i didnt mean to scare you." He reached a hand out to you so you could take it and lead you over to his bedside draw. He pulled a tie out for you. "now lets see of i can make it up to you for scaring you."
(sorry that its so short idrk how to write for tom without making him look like a complete dick)
idk if i did this correctly but im pretty sure you can request now and id love to hear other peoples ideas. you can request anything (smut, fluff, angst, comfort etc.) for a drabble headcannon, fic etc. so pls doooo.
#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys#mattheo riddle headcanon#theodore nott headcannon#draco malfoy headcanon#lorenzo berkshire headcannon#tom riddle headcanon#blaise zabini headcannon#mattheo riddle x reader#theodore nott x reader#draco malfoy x reader#lorenzo berkshire x reader#tom riddle x reader#blaise zabini x reader#vixzwrites
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Conner Kent's Obsession with Smalltown!Reader
A/N: I saw a few people liking the Superfam stuff and finally went nuts attempting this Conner bit. I tried. I tried so hard. I added dialogue. I'm used to the YJ Conner, but this is my attempt at Comic Conner. If he's OOC, oops. Yeet. (I attempted to research, I swear.) Might edit this some later.
A/N: I write Reader with an accent. One, cause that's how I talk. Two, cause I like it like 'dat.
A/N: I'm also almost done with Part Seven, but I'm adding dialogue to that too to make the breaking point a tad bit more impactful. I've never really written dialogue before.
Warnings: Slight Yandere themes. Romantic Yandere. (Very subtle.)
Conner’s run-ins with Reader always seemed to piss Tim off. Especially after Tim started researching into Reader. He would occasionally always beg Tim to invite Reader to hang out. And, he would find himself rejected every single time. Before it was probably due to Tim being dramatic. Now, he certain of this, it's because Tim dramatic and jealous overprotective.
On other occasions, he'd just by pass Tim, leaving him to his cases (and creeping) so hecould sneak and bother reader. They’re kinda cute, in his opinion. Of course they call him a big city boy and said he clearly lived off of his daddy’s money. Which was only kind of wrong. But, they way they said it made his a trail of heat crawl down his spine.
After some time had passed, he knew that Tim and the other members of the family were suspicious about him coming to the manor so much. He never tried to hide his reasons There was no point in hiding behind weak excuses. He respected the Bats too much to even think he could fool them. Plus, lying to the Bats was a good way to get stabbed with a kryptonite knife. Even though they had made it pretty clear that they disapproved of him coming around so often, He was still going to keep visiting. Could they really blame him? It wasn’t his fault he was enamored so easily.
He kept his distance just a bit. Like he was silently (commanded) requested. He could tell he made the newest addition to the family a bit uncomfortable. And, he understood. The clone thing was kinda freaky after all.
Well, at first he had assumed it was because he was a clone. That would make any normal person feel a bit weird. But, then he heard them keep call him that nickname. City boy. The way it rolled off their tongue and how often it was said was clearly a sign. They weren’t bothered by the clone thing. They just didn’t like his personality. He could fix that. That wasn’t that hard. He was adaptable.
So when he approached them again, for the million time, he tried to play up the cool and collected act. Going as far as to emulate the Batman. Which, surprising made the ice break. When they laughed at him.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
"No, seriously why are you acting like that?" You're still giggling at how hard he was trying to play up the serious act. Cause that's all it was. You don't doubt he could genuinely be serious for a moment, but this wasn't one of those moments.
"I'm just letting you see a different side of me, is all." Conner replies, trying to keep it up even though he had been quickly caught.
"You mean the imaginary side, city boy? I didn't realize you liked to play pretend." Another teasing snort. God, how you needed that laugh.
"I'm not pretending."
"Yeah, you are."
"No, I'm not."
"Yeah."
"No."
"Yes, you are. Don't be lyin' to me now. Or, Imma start gettin' upset."
"Okay, okay... How could you tell?" He conceded after a moment. The way he scratched the back of his head suited him much more than that little Oscar performance he was putting on a few seconds prior.
"I'm observant." Comes the mock arrogant reply. It was hard to give him a cold shoulder when he just made you laugh so genuinely in the last few weeks.
"Oh, look who's playing pretend now." The snark on his tongue doesn't have any heat, but it does bring you some relief. A bit of much needed normalcy.
Maybe it's the fact that the loneliness has slowly crawled into your chest and burrowed it's self deep in that hollow part of you, but it's easy to let your guard down around him for once. You had noticed his efforts to get to know you before, and maybe you let those preconceived notions cloud your little head. But, there was no need for them anymore. The twinge of glee he sparked was enough to burn them away and make you pause before you would rebuild those walls of yours.
"Are you saying I'm not observant?"
"Yep."
"The audacity!" The outrage nothing more than a sham. A simple way to fill the air between them. Cause even if the talk was small, just the hint of it filled something in you. That didn't make your curiosity fade, however. "But, seriously, why are you impersonating Bruce? And in his own house, no less."
The brief silence that washes over you both has you already regretting this. Had it really so long since you've had a proper conversation that you were this out of practice?
When he finally speaks again, it is gives you relief and more regret.
"I just wanted to finally get your attention."
Well, doesn't that make you finally fit in with the rest of your family?
Your tongue brushes over your teeth in an attempt to get the lead coating that made your words weigh heavy in your mouth off of it.
"I'm sorry, Conner. I- I've been smallminded haven’t I?"
"No, I get it. The whole clone thing is freaky." He starts, a light flush on his cheeks. He wasn't expecting an apology, and especially one so soon and so heartfelt.
"Oh, yeah, that... Really it didn't have anything to do with it. I kinda just thought you were a typical concrete jungle flirt. Momma warned me about men like you." You try to hide your sheepishness by adding humor to your voice, praying he catches your sincerity under all the different layers.
He catches something, judging by the beaming smile Conner gives you.
"Really? I had hoped it wasn't, ya know, that."
"Nah, nah. It wasn't. Still, I am sorry." You assume silence is about to befall the pair of you again, but he doesn't let it happen.
"My family owns a farm out in Kansas, you know?" The cheeky grin on his face screams that he's going to be getting his revenge in the form of mild bullying.
"No!" The resounding smack of your palm hitting your forehead nearly echoes in the halls. "I feel even worse now."
"So much for being observant, little detective."
"I never claimed to be no detective. But, I might be more... oblivious then I initially implied..."
Now, it's Conner's turn to guffaw at you.
"The audacity."
"Don't you throw my words back at my. I can't handle it." You can't help by click your tongue. There's hardly any annoyance from your words. "I really misjudged you."
"It's fine! I figured you might still be adjusting to Gotham and the whole Wayne lifestyle. Tim mentioned you're from a pretty small town when I started bugging him about you." He's clearly playing up the charm, but you let it work on you.
"More like I'm still suffering from culture shock." Slowly, you can feel this conversation starting to shift to something deeper than surface level. Things that haven't been allowed into the open air start to ripple underneath.
And, he takes that chance to draw it out.
"Still?" Empathy mixing into his tone. Those icy blue eyes looking incredibly warm. You'd never really taken the time to look at him. Sure, you knew he was attractive. Hell, everyone that seemed to show up at the manor was attractive. But, now you were finally looking at him. Too focused were you in taking in his appearance for the first time, that you completely missed the way those eyes shined with opportunity and desperate want.
"Yeah, still. It's... different."
"Different as in the food's a little weird or different as in the people are a little weird?"
"It's all a little weird, and it's... kinda... lonely?" You can't help the wince. You really don't wanna trauma dump on someone who you had initially misjudged. He didn't deserve that.
But, as he moves closer you can't help it. That desolate part of you longing for comfort when you haven't had it in such a long time and the way he's giving you all this undivided attention when you can barely catch Alfred in the halls these days fills that acute craving in your gut.
"Lonely?" God, the concern in his voice doesn't make you want to cry, but it does make you want to choke
"I... I think it's not here that's different. I think it's me that's too different." The way he sucks a breath in after the words leave your mouth makes you want to backtrack immediately. "I'm so sorry. God damn, am I mess right now."
"No. No. No. You are fine." The reassuring words oddly sound more like a purr, but they capture your attention all the same. "I get it. I really really do."
Why does he have to give you such a disarming smile. He's practically beaming at you now. There's a festering tension blooming around them like spores.
"You are really not helping me fell less like a jerk to you now." The click of your tongue attempting to defuse the budding blooms.
"Hey, if you're feeling guilt... you could, maybe... let me take you out for dinner sometime? Just to make it up to me."
After a stunned moment of thought, you finally find the words to reply.
" Honestly, I'd-"
"CONNER!" Tim's sudden interruption sends the words crawling back down your throat.
"Tim." He calls back in a cool greeting, but he strangely doesn't step back from you. Which is nice. You haven't had anyone close to you other than Dick and a few of your remaining friends at Gotham Academy. And Damian, Cassandra, and Duke get a bit huffy, or in Damian's case murdery, when they are within an arms reach of you.
"Sorry, am I interrupting anything? Conner and I had plans for the day." Tim's pleasant voice sends a wave of unease over you. He's not staring at you when he speaks. Just Conner. It's annoying how he's ignoring you despite you being right. In. Front. Of. Him.
But, then he does finally look at you and his dark grey eyes soften ever so slightly. You're not too mad. Clearly he's exhausted, judging by the bruises under his eyes. There's still a slight reflection in them as he's gaze meets yours, despite how dry the appear. Probably from looking at a computer too much.
"You really shouldn't bother with this guy. He's not worth it." The words are clearly meant to be joking. Casual banter between two close friends. But, you can't help thinking they come off a bit strong.
Conner seems to bristle at them, but he does brush them off.
"That's right, we are hanging out today. Can you blame me for getting distracted, though?" That cocky smirk of his is back, and he actually touches your shoulder. It makes you feels warm, but like a prize at the same time.
All Tim seems to do in response is twitch, but giving nothing away. His grey eyes going steely as they drift to Conner's hand.
When the moment finally passes, Conner lets his hand fall. You can feel it grazing down your back as he pulls away. Slow, like he's trying to strike a match and light something inside you.
"I'll see you later, sweetheart. Just think about my offer and get back to me on it!" Conner calls out as Tim storms behind him. Both heading in the direction of the library.
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As soon as their in the Batcave, Conner can tell he probably pushed it too far. Not that he has any regrets. He finally got somewhere and confirmed all of his previous theories about Reader. They were so adorable apologizing to him, and so deliciously sweet about it too.
He should've realized Tim was watching them, though. Dude was a creep. He maybe his best friend, but he's still a damn creep.
As expected, the rest of the family is also giving him the patented Bat-glare when he sees them. But, as he stated, he has no regrets. He's not stupid enough to stick around, though. He saw Jason loading a suspicious looking green bullet into the chamber of his gun. And, while he knows Tim wouldn't kill him, he's not so sure about the rest of them.
He's confirmed what he's wanted, what he's already suspected. They're absolutely perfect for him and ripe and raw.
#yandere batfam#yandere batfamily#batfam x reader#batfamily x reader#platonic batfam#yandere dc#smalltown!reader#yandere batfam x reader#yandere batfamily x reader#yandere superfam#yandere superboy#yandere conner kent#conner kent#conner kent x reader#yandere conner kent x reader#superfam
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*SCREAMS* OH MY GODDDAAAGGGHGJFFNDNDNDNDNSNDNENDBBDJDNDNDNDMEKDKDMSMDDMDKSLFM THIS IS SOOOOOOOOO COOOLLL AND GREAATTTTTT AND TONY WOULD LITERALLY SAY THAT OMFGFFDJDJSJDNDNDMMDMDMFMSL
Idk if I should send this anonymously or not but fuck it I'm sending you but I'm a bit embarrassed to like- telling you the details lol
So Tony losing his shit when he realised he meet an alien- no a 15 meter tall robot that can transform into a truck with complete battle mask, sword and canon (it's Optimus Prime) that now standing infront of him bcuz he experimented with their life force (Energon) (it's all the government's fault actually)
Thanks! *runs away*
After all my questions, this is *slighly* generic because boy was there a lot of info in the wikipedia article for Transformers: The Last Knight that I could never fit in here. LOL. So we’ve got Optimus and Tony meeting for the first time. 😀
I gotta say, reading up a bit on the Transformers canon is kind of making me want to watch more Transformers stuff. Alas, I’m in the midst of an MCU rewatch at the moment.
I’ve set this prior to Tony removing the arc reactor because of reasons.
-
Tony paced around the semi-trailer truck thoughtfully. It had been delivered by SHIELD almost a week before. Commercial trucks were not usually Tony’s baliwick, but this one had crazy energy readings. Readings that had only been getting stronger.
He did one more scan before hefting a toolkit in one hand and approaching the cab. “Let’s see what makes you tick,” he said, reaching for the door.
The truck sprang to life, engine roaring, and reversed away from Tony. And then… then seams split all over the vehicle, none of them in any logical place, and slabs of metal twisted and rotated and reformed in a deafening clatter of metal.
Tony stared as the mass of whirring, shifting metal settled into a humanoid shape. Its head nearly brushed the ceiling of Tony’s vehicle bay, and the red and blue paint job of the semi-trailer could still be recognized splayed across the being’s chest and arms. It held a sword, of all things.
“Holy shit,” Tony breathed.
It sank to one knee, leaning down to bring its face nearly level with Tony. “As much as I appreciate scientific inquiry,” it said, and its voice did not sound mechanical at all, “I cannot permit you to experiment with Energon.”
“Yeah, no shit,” Tony said. He tapped his arc reactor. “I wouldn’t be too thrilled at someone wanting to poke around my battery, either. How about some questions, though? Because—” Tony broke into a grin, “—people have been telling me that something like you is impossible since grade school.” Like hell was carbon the only building block for life! This was something entirely different.
“I have questions of my own, Tony Stark,” the being said. “I am Optimus Prime.”
“JARVIS,” Tony said, not taking his eyes off Optimus Prime, “cancel all my meetings. Indefinitely.”
#I'm dead#my will has been fulfilled#tony stark#Optimus Prime#it's okay we can make both of their partners meet next time#winks at Stephen and Megatron ;D#why Megatron you say? cuz they're not at war noww and clearly lead Cybertron like it's Golden days#Optimus is the leader of the planet and Megatron is his High Lord Protector that protects the Prime#this one is not movie accurate obviously#oh my god the chaos thy gonna get if Soundwave's there nd has been lurking through every government's dirty secrets just to kill his boredo#look at me writing hc for this already#my world collided what do you think I'm supposed to do? not making it juicier#tbh TLK Megatron is my BIGGEST hear me out so I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE HIM TOO JSDHHDJDJ SKA#Optimus and Megatron already conjunx's to each other 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 the universe is healing#what if they gonna fight Quintessons now 🧍🏻♀️#THE AVENGERS GONNA HELP THE AUTOBOTS AND (some) DECEPTICONS WOOOHOOOOO#I'm writing this at 2am I CAN'T SLEEPPPPPP#OH MY GOD SINCE TONY CAN CREATE NANITES AND BY MY NOT IN DEPTH KNOWLEDGE OF TF THEY SELF REPAIR THEMSELVES FROM THEIR OWN NANITES SO#IF A TRANSFORMER IS GRAVELY INJURED AND THEIR NANITES ARE SLOW IN SELF REPAIR WOULD TONY'S OWN WORK WELL???!!??!?!?
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— ESPRESSO
kim donghyun "leehan" x gn!reader
summary: the coffee shop you regularly go to has a new employee, a kind male your age who always seems to write your name wrong. too bad you'll never notice his attempts at talking to you, right?
warnings/tags: fluff, barista!leehan, barista!taesan mention, mild language, super short sorry
my first boynextdoor post!! requests are open for these lovely lads 🫶 i might do a pt 2 for this but for now this is it!
"y-yn?"
you hear your name, or, an attempt to say your name as you stand aside from the front counter waiting for your coffee. you walk up and grab your drink from the employee, turning it around to see another complete butchering of your name written on the cup. when you look at who's working the cashier, you see the same male you've seen the past few weeks. the one who has taken your exact same order these past few weeks, and still manages to spell your name wrong leaving his coworkers struggling to pronounce whatever he wrote.
he's cute, which is the first thing you noticed about him. his hair long enough to outline his perfect face, his brown eyes that looked like they were chocolate, the warm smile he always had on his face. god, why did this place have to get all the cute people as employees? he must be new too, judging by the way he keeps looking back at his coworkers to ask questions about the drinks and what sizes they come in. also by how nice he seems to be for the overwhelming holiday season for local coffee shops.
as you take a sip of the drink, you look at the time on your watch and realize you're running late. walking by the front counter, you go right by the male who hesitantly reaches his arm out to try and talk to you, but you don't notice as you walk out the door putting your phone to your ear.
"do you really think this is going to work?" taesan asks leehan, leaning against the counter.
"positive," leehan nods his head. "it just...may take some time."
"yeah, no shit," taesan rolls his eyes. "what are you even trying to get out of this? i'm the one actually making the drinks. you just take the orders and spell their name wrong every time."
"well," leehan starts. "they're cute, and i want to get to know them."
"so you think by writing their name wrong repeatedly will want them to talk to you and not get irritated by your incapacity to spell?" taesan raises an eyebrow at his friend.
leehan lets out a sigh, dragging his hands down his face. "i don't know! i'm trying, okay?!"
"terribly," taesan mutters. "maybe actually try to have a conversation with them. you never know what could happen." he shrugs lightly.
"yeah, i guess," leehan nods.
the next morning, you walked into the coffee shop looking like you got up five minutes prior. you got essentially no sleep the previous night, and were in desperate need for a strong coffee instead of your usual. you stop in front of the counter and a male walks up to it from behind it, the same one you'd seen the past few weeks.
"hi," he says with a smile. "you gonna get your-"
"i need a quad shot iced americano."
"oh!" leehan lets out in surprise at both you cutting him off and your tone. "not-not your usual?" he asks.
you shake your head. "not today, sorry."
"no! it's okay!" leehan quickly changes the order on his side and grabs a new cup, giving a look to taesan who was already pouring the original drink for you. "uh. uhm."
you raise an eyebrow at the confusion growing visible on the barista's face, clearly not knowing how to do something. "is everything okay?" you ask.
"yep!" leehan nods quickly, clearing his throat as he writes your name on the cup. "you're all set!" he smiles.
you blink a few times, staring at him confused. "you haven't charged me yet."
"don't worry about it!" leehan's smile stays on his face. "my treat," he says before he can think.
a blush forms on your face realizing you just got your drink for free, shyly nodding your head and pushing some of your hair out of your face. "well, thank you..." your voice trails off.
"donghyun," he answers, his smile growing bigger.
"thank you, donghyun. i really appreciate it," you say, smiling back at him.
"it's not a problem," he shakes his head, his hair flowing with him. "really."
"yn?"
sending a gentle smile leehan's way, you walk over to the other side and take your drink from the black-haired male you always saw with leehan. looking at the cup, your smile grows bigger at the sight of your name. walking back up to the front, you hold the cup up in front of leehan.
"finally got my name right, hm?" you say, smiling still. you turn the cup a little bit more, failing to notice leehan's eyes widening in fear as you see numbers scribbled on it, making you confused. looking over the numbers, you realize it's a phone number. slowly lowering the cup, your smile grows bigger as you look at the male in front of you. "and more, huh?"
"uhm," leehan lets out awkwardly, shifting on his feet. "i was hoping i would be able to talk to you more," he admits, a shy smile on his face. "but i didn't really know how to go about it."
it all clicked in your brain then. "so you were writing my name wrong on purpose?" you question, but the smile remains on your face.
"yeah," he nods.
"do you have a paper and pen?" you ask, leaving leehan looking at you confused.
"here," taesan pops out of nowhere, handing you a pen and pad from his apron pocket, nudging leehan lightly before walking in the back.
scribbling your number down on the paper, you tear the page off and hand it over to the male who's staring at you in bewilderment. "here! in case the marker wipes off the cup or one of my friends tosses it," you tell him.
taking the paper from you, leehan looks it over and his face instantly turns red realizing it's your number. "oh! gotcha!" he nods, shoving it in his pocket.
your phone dings, and you pull it out of your pocket to glance at it before putting it back away. "well, i gotta get going. but, it was really nice talking to you a bit, donghyun," you say, grabbing your drink.
"yeah, you too," leehan smiles. "i'll text you after my shift!"
smiling back at him, you open the door and wave. "i'll be waiting!"
as you walk out the door, the bell dinging as you leave, there's a dumb, lovesick smile on leehan's face as he leans against the counter. he glances around, seeing no customers in the store before pumping his fist up in the air. "hell yes!" he exclaims.
"you're a fucking idiot," taesan rolls his eyes, walking back up front.
"be quiet!"
#kpop x reader#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#boynextdoor#bnd#bnd x reader#bnd imagines#bnd scenarios#boynextdoor x reader#boynextdoor imagines#boynextdoor scenarios#leehan x reader#leehan imagines#leehan scenarios
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Plush-Natasha Romanoff
Pairing: GP!Natasha Romanoff × f!reader
Summary:After a long, difficult mission, Natasha come back home. It's been the most exhausting week of her life and you, as her sweet loving girlfriend, decide to take care of her.
Warnings: NSWF, bottom!Nat, top!reader, dry humping, blowjob, breeding, dirty talk, praise, aftercare, little fluff and hurt/comfort
Word count: 1.6k
AN: I remembered my love for Natasha and especially for the bottom Natasha, I promise someday I will write a fic without smut
In the silence of the spacious apartment, the front door slammed. Something seemed to fall on the floor, then there was the sound of running water in the bathroom. You became wary and got out of bed, putting the book on the nightstand. The door was only closed and you quietly looked through the crack where the light was coming from to understand who had just climbed into your and Natasha’s apartment.
A shock of red hair flashed and you relaxed. Natasha got back, but... something was wrong. You knocked and quietly entered; the woman was sitting with her back to you in the bath, her arms wrapped around her knees. "Babe? Hi, I missed you so much, did something happen?...” You fell silent when you got a better look at her back. All covered in bruises and scratches. Natasha turned her head and smiled at you over her shoulder, it seems her face suffered no less. "Hi дорогая (sweetheart)" She said quietly, “I brought you a small gift, it’s in a bag in the hallway..”
You cut her off and walked over to take her face in your hands. She was covered in dirt, her lip was clearly broken. Natasha looked like a beaten kitten. “Oh my god baby what happened to you?” Fear settled in your eyes and she turned her head to rub her cheek against your palm and then kiss it. "It's been a terrible week." She wheezed. “I just want to take a bath and go to bed please.”
You nodded and rubbed the pad of your thumb over her slightly sore cheekbone. “Should I help you?” She shook her head in protest and directed the shower stream onto her sore back. "Okay, then I'll wait for you in the room." You walked out and closed the door behind you.
After 20 minutes, the sound of the water stopped and Natasha came out with only a towel on her hips. Her chest didn't look as bruised as her back, but there were still yellow bruises on her abs. She sighed and found clean house clothes in the closet. “Wait, I’ll treat your back, don’t get fully dressed.” The woman pulled on loose sweatpants and sat on the edge of the bed. You took out the first aid kit and moistened a piece of cotton wool with an antibacterial agent, barely touching it, wiping her wounds.
“Everything didn’t go according to plan. I should have already left there, but I was delayed and I got the worst of it because I was protecting the weight.” You listened to her without stopping your work. “Damn, it hurts.” “Shhhh I know my love, I know.” You applied healing ointment. When you finished, your hands rested on her shoulders, gently kneading her tired muscles. "I'm so happy you're with me again." A small moan escaped Natasha’s lips in response to your actions. The hands moved to her neck and then dropped back down. “You did great, let me take care of you.” You bit your earlobe and your hands slid to the redhead's breasts. Natasha’s breathing quickened as you played with her nipples and squeezed her soft breasts.
“Oh damn Y/N.” The woman's hips jumped up and you noticed the bulge forming in her pants. You grinned and turned her head towards you for a soft kiss, but almost immediately Natasha's tongue begged for permission to enter your mouth. "No no, I'm in charge here today." You said as you pulled away and grabbed her rock hard cock with your hand through the fabric her house pants. She sighed noisily, the woman's head leaned back on your shoulder while you stroked her length, watching as a small wet spot appeared on her pants. Your lips touched her neck, your teeth biting the sensitive skin. Whining began to come from Natasha. "What do you want baby?" Your hands were stroked wherever they could reach. “You..” The redhead’s thoughts were confused. "More concrete." You said sternly and squeezed her balls. It was so good, so good the redhead thought that she would cum just from this. "Fuck...Y/N please. I need your mouth, your hands, your pussy on my cock."
You moved to the floor between her legs and slowly pulled the gray sweatpants down her legs. Her throbbing cock jumped out and hit Natasha's stomach. The tip was leaking pre-cum and looked red and sensitive. She could hide it, but when you took the initiative into your own hands, it turned her on more than being on top, she went crazy when such a cute little thing like you did whatever you wanted with her.
You collected her pre-cum starting to stroke Natasha's length, obscene squelching sounds filling the room. She began to push into your hand, but you held her back, prohibiting any action on her part. "I told you. I'm in charge." With that, you wrapped your lips around her tip and took every inch of her cock into your mouth until your nose touched the woman's stomach. The redhead's head fell back from this sight, her hands clutching the sheets so as not to start fucking your mouth. "Fuck oh god baby." You continued to suck, looking into the green eyes from above, one of your hands fell between your legs, starting to rub your swollen clit through the fabric of underwear. Not only Natasha enjoyed this, you liked sucking her dick even more than fucking her. You realized how sensitive you both were now and before at least one of you came, you stopped and stood up.
"Lie on your back." You commanded and the redhead climbed to the head of your shared plush bed, taking the desired position. The woman watched as you took off your panties, but left your light housedress on and took out the lube from the cabinet nearby bed. Cold thick liquid dripped onto her length and she twitched, you quickly warmed and rubbed it, and then pressed your soaked folds against her length to slide and rub. "Please baby. I can't take it anymore." She felt that she would cum at any moment. With every movement, your clit hit her red tip, making you even wetter. Your nails dripped into her shoulders as you processed what she said. Your hips began to move faster. “That’s it Natty don’t hold back, cum for me.” Her hands flew up to your hips, helping you move against her. Her hips still began to jerk involuntarily and within seconds ropes of her cum fell onto her flat stomach. "Fuck Y/N oh god." You were still grinding her cock prolonging her orgasm, your hand reached out and the tip of your finger gathered her release. You put it in your mouth, tasting it as if Natasha was the most expensive dish in the world. The redhead's eyes darkened at this sight and her dick twitched, she so needed to be inside you.
"Mmmm I didn't even have to try to make you cum. And you're still so hard." You leaned down and press your lips onto her, licking the stinging wound. “Do you want another round Natty? Although your dick speaks for you..” You stood up to finally line up the tip with swollen folds, rubbing your clit with it a little.
In one motion, you sank down Natasha’s cock, taking the entire length at once. The feeling of your warm wet walls around her made her ready to explode instantly, she was still so sensitive. Your hands grabbed hers and pinned they to the bed as you began to ride her quickly. "Oh yeah Fuck baby I love your big fat cock so much." Your thighs slapped against her, wetness flowing between your bodies. Her tip hit the sensitive spot inside you every time. "Do you want to cum in me Natty? Fill me up to the brim. I'm going to love it so much." The redhead nodded quickly and buried her face in the pillows, you grabbed her and turned her back. "Look at me when I fuck you." From the fast pace and your rude words, Natasha’s orgasm was approaching at breakneck speed. One of her hands moved away from your grip and her thumb rested on your swollen clit. "Oh fuck fuck cum with me baby. Come on, can you do it for me Natty?"
She did it, how could Natasha upset you? The feeling of her cum inside you made you see stars and your pussy milked her cock dry. Your legs shook and you fell into Natasha's arms, her hands rubbing circles on your back as she fucked you through your orgasm.
You lay together in this position for a few more minutes, after which you slowly got off Natasha and her cum immediately flowed out of you, dripping onto her stomach. The redhead reached over to the bedside table and grabbed wet wipes to clean herself and you. "Thanks babe." You kissed her gratefully and lay down next to her, resting your head on her shoulder.
You both closed your eyes and began to fall asleep when Natasha suddenly jumped up and walked towards the corridor. "I forgot about my gift." Her voice came muffled. She walked back into room holding something behind her back. You sat up, taking an upright position. "What do you have there?" Natasha pulled out her gift from behind her back and you laughed. "Plush seal? Oh my God, he has such a funny face." The redhead frowned. "What don't you like?" "Oh I really like it, give it here." You lay down again hugging a new toy. “Are you going to sleep with it now and not with me?” The woman feigned offense and lay down with her back to you.
#natasha x reader#natasha x you#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#wandanat x reader#wandanat#wanda x you#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda fanfic#scarlett johansson#marvel#agatha coven of chaos#agatha harkness x reader#kathryn hahn
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detour
george russell x reader | 1.8k
you get in a car crash. a very handsome and very familiar man stops to help.
cw: fem!reader, car crash, blood, minor injuries. george is the star, alex in the background because he's a sweetie. hospitals and some flirting. short and sweet!
a/n: first time trying him out, but any excuse to write george saying blimey. --
Later, you'll be able to recall it in flashes.
The empty road, the voice telling you which way to go slightly patchy due to weak signal. The setting sun coloring the sky a brilliant pink, a sense that you might be lost. Waiting for the light to turn green, not a car in sight. It does, and you ease your way through the crossroads. Then -- an awful sound, spinning, closing your eyes and bracing yourself. A sharp pain, no air in your lungs, an eerie silence and then the squeal of tires.
In the moment, it takes you a few breaths to figure out what's happened. One thing at a time, you think. Wiggle toes -- check. Fingers? Check. You can see that the airbag has deployed, which explains the soreness of your chest but it doesn't hurt to breathe. Slowly, you unbuckle your seatbelt and notice that there's blood down the front of your shirt.
"Fuck," you mutter. Your forehead is tacky with it and you wince. Your neck feels a bit stiff and when you turn your head to the side too quickly your vision swims. "Oh, god."
A few moments to rest, then. You need to find your phone and call for help. The sun is almost down and there are no cars back here -- how on earth did someone hit you and drive away?
The longer you sit there the more your head starts to pound. A whisper says you shouldn't fall asleep because -- why? You can't find the word. What were you meant to be doing? Oh, your phone. Where is it? You don't see it by the gear shift, maybe it fell under the seat. God, bending over sends a rush of blood that has you groaning. Plan B. Sit here a little longer.
You're trying valiantly to keep your eyes open when you hear it -- an engine. It gets closer and closer and you expect it to pass you by but the car comes to an abrupt stop and someone gets out.
"Call 999!" they shout. Sounds like a man. "Blimey, there's blood on the window."
A shape appears and the car door opens and there stands -- a man. A tall man. He crouches down so you can see his face. Big blue eyes and a square jaw, pieces of fringe curling over his forehead. Pretty, your bruised brain supplies.
"Hello," he says gently. "Are you alright?"
"Where did you come from?" you ask. His features swim a bit but something is nagging at you. "I think I know you."
His brows furrow. "Alex," he calls behind him. "Are they coming?"
"Yeah," someone shouts back. "They're asking how she is."
The man's attention returns to you. "I'm George, and that's Alex. We're going to help you, okay?" You grunt an assent. "Now, I'm not a doctor," he says, "but do you think you can tell me where you're hurt?"
You try to focus. "I don't think anything is broken. But my head --" You reach for your forehead again but George catches your wrist with long fingers before you can.
"Think you hit it on the window," he explains. "Best not to touch it. Bit of a nasty cut."
Suddenly, you're desperate to get out of the car. "Can you -- I need to --" You tug at the seatbelt.
"George," the other man calls. Alex.
"Concussion," George says. "I think. Mate, I don't know. She's not slurring, but she's confused."
He reaches over you and unbuckles the seatbelt. You swing your legs out of the car and try to stand up. George quickly grabs your hands as you sway.
"Woah," he says. "Are you sure you want to --"
This close it's apparent how tall he is and recognition sparks once again. "I swear I know you from somewhere," you repeat, but it comes out as a croak.
"Do you?" he says lightly. "Alex, can I have the water bottle?"
You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to focus. Fuck, your head hurts. It's like the ability to think clearly has simply left you.
"Yeah, you --," you look at him again. He's got a plastic bottle in one hand now, black with a teal wording on it that you recognize. "You...drive cars."
"Well done," George says, smiling. "Do you want some of this?" He hands it to you when you nod and you take slow sips. He keeps a hand lightly on your elbow.
Something occurs to you. "You didn't hit me, did you?" You're pretty sure he didn't but everything is so muddled.
"No," he says, firmly. "No, I promise I didn't." He gently turns you so you're facing the car. It's not a pretty sight. "I think some wanker clipped you at the rear and send you spinning into the pole."
The driver's side tail light is totally shattered and you see that he's right -- the light pole is firmly lodged into the passenger side door.
"Fuck," you whisper. "Where's the other car?" you ask. You know this, you think, but can't put the pieces together.
George lets out an angry huff. "Drove away, looks like."
You frown. "Well, that's not very nice." Your head pounds again and you groan. "I think I need to --"
"Woah, woah," George says. "Let's sit down."
He guides you to his car and helps you down into the passenger seat. You keep your feet firmly on the ground and take more sips of his water.
"What's your name?" he asks, crouching down to speak to you. He's so tall you're almost eye level. "Can you remember that?"
"I'm not that bad off," you scoff, and tell him. "And you --" The piece slots into place. "You're George Russell."
He grins at you. "I'm flattered," he says. "How's the head?"
You press your eyes closed tight. "Hurts," you say. "Am I still bleeding?"
"Not terribly," he replies. "It'll be alright. I think I hear --"
The siren hits your ears, cutting him off. "That's loud," you mutter. George squeezes your knee and stands.
He takes a step towards your ruined car. "Where are you going?" you ask. It sounds like a whine but you can't find it in you to care.
"Just going to get your things," he says lightly. "So you have them in hospital."
"Oh," you breathe. You allow him to walk across the road and lean into your car, searching for your stuff. He manages to find your phone and sets your purse at your feet just as the ambulance pulls up, siren blessedly off.
You look up at George. "Thank you," you say. "Thank you so much --"
He waves you off. "Please," he says. "Listen, I've put my contact in your phone, and I'll get your car sorted, alright?"
"Are you --" Before you can ask him more, the paramedics take over. You're asked questions, given a few quick tests, while George speaks to one of them off to the side. They load you into the back of the ambulance.
"I'll see you later, okay?" he calls. You just nod and lean back on the bed. The doors are shut and you're on your way.
"Nice bloke," one of the paramedics says. "Never met him before. More of a Red Bull man, myself, but glad he was decent. Do you know him?"
You blink. It's very bright in here. "No," you say. "No, he just stopped to help."
"See?" the man says again. "Decent sort. Now, if he could just get a decent racing car --"
__
Since George gave you your stuff, you manage to call the necessary people to tell them what's happened.
"Few bruises tomorrow," the nurse tells you. She's cleaned your forehead and butterfly bandaged it. "But no stitches. You're a lucky one. Now, that blow to your head isn't too bad, but do try to take it easy. Nothing more than some walks and stay off your phone and TV if you can help it for a week or so."
You nod, thankful for the painkillers she's had you swallow. The throbbing has dulled and you can think a little more clearly.
"Now, last thing," she says. Is she...smirking at you? "You said you've got a ride, but there's a very handsome man waiting for you, too."
"What?" you say. You've called a friend and she's going to pick you up but...is George here?
The nurse taps her nose and tells you you're free to go.
You slowly walk back to the waiting room, unsure of what you'll find. But as soon as you're through the doors, you hear your name.
George unfolds himself from one of the chairs and you meet in the middle. You really thought he'd just call, or something, to tell you about the car. But he's here.
"There you are," he says, as though you've been parted for eons. "I wanted to make sure you're alright."
"I'm alright," you tell him. He smiles and takes a step towards you, eyes on your forehead.
"That doesn't look too bad now," he says. "Shame about your shirt, though." His hand hovers in the air near your face like he wants to touch you, but he doesn't.
He's right about your shirt -- it's a lost cause. Collar soaked in blood and the front looking like you were an extra in a horror movie.
You shrug. "Not how I thought my day would go."
George winces. "I'd imagine not," he says. "Listen, I've sorted the car. A tow company has it and I'll send you their information. It's a bit of a lost cause, the bloke said, but I've given them your name and number and if you call your insurance --"
You put a hand on his arm. He's warm through the fabric of his sweater. He stops speaking immediately.
"George," you say, softly. "Thank you." He blinks at you, eyes remarkably blue, before he gives you an easy smile.
"Of course," he says. "I'm just glad we came along."
"Me too." You let him go and swallow.
"Do you need a ride?" he says, suddenly. "Alex has just gone to get petrol but he'll be back and we can take you anywhere you need to go."
Your chest tightens with regret. Objectively unnecessary, since you don't know this very famous man, but you wish you could say yes all the same.
"I've called my friend, actually," you say gingerly. "She's coming to get me."
"Good." George runs a hand through his hair, that brown fringe falling over his forehead the way it did when he crouched next to you back at the accident scene. "Good, I'm glad."
Today has been wild, absolutely the last thing you expected. A car crash, meeting this man, ending up in hospital. It occurs to you that anything is possible. You're lucky the crash wasn't worse, and maybe that spurs you to say it.
"I'd love to thank you for today," you say to him, shoulders square. You make yourself look him in the eye. "Alex, too. Lunch, maybe? Once I'm over this concussion?"
You've surprised him, if his expression is anything to go by. Then he grins. "Yes," he says. "I'd love that." His grin shifts into a smirk. "Alex might be busy, though."
You grin back. "Is that so? Too bad."
#george russell x reader#george russell#george russell fanfic#gr63 x reader#f1 fanfic#my writing#gr63#fic: detour
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those tiktok videos where couples are ranking types of kisses but it’s you and james 🧚🏻♀️✨😭 if you write it, thank you very much for your time ❤️
i hope i got this right, thank you for requesting, angel!! reblogs and comments are highly appreciated, please let me know what you think if you like this guys <33333
james potter x fem!reader, fluff (lots of kissing haha)
it's so easy to get james in the mood for trying a new tiktok ranking trend.
he's been obsessed with them lately, keeps trying different stuff just for fun when he waits for you to join him in bed at night. the funniest part of this for you is that he actually takes them so seriously, he gets visibly disappointed when he puts an option in the wrong place and regrets it later.
"i'm gonna show you something." you say, sitting on bed with your phone in your hand.
"what's that angel?" he asks, pulling you closer. "your hair smells amazing, come closer."
you settle down next to him and open the app on your phone. "we're gonna rank types of kisses."
"oh, that's new? i've never seen it."
"i just saw a couple doing it, thought you'd enjoy." you laugh.
"um-yes, please?" he says, seriously. god, you love him so much.
"okay." you hold the phone in front of you. "so, when a type of kiss appears on the screen, you'll give me that kiss and i'll rank."
james clearly likes the idea, he sits straighter on bed. you look at him before starting, he nods.
'neck kiss' appears on the screen and james gives you a perfect kiss on your neck. you love how he pays attention to your neck all the time so it's a clear favorite.
"this can actually be the first one." you say. "but no, three."
'hand kiss' comes next and james kisses your knuckles. "good?" he asks. "i feel like i'm under pressure."
you laugh. "gonna put it in number six."
next one is 'nose kiss', you cheekily rub your nose on james's. "you don't like this so much." he says.
"um, eight."
"i wonder which one will be ten."
'earlobe kiss' appears. "oh my god." you laugh. james kisses your earlobe and it's too loud. "that's ten."
you regret your decision when 'bite kiss' comes next. "no!" you laugh. "don't bite me."
"sorry, angel." he laughs. he bites your arm softly.
"nine."
you put 'top of the head kiss' on number four. "you could do better than that." you say to james, smiling.
"i definitely could." he agrees. "this is hard."
"okay, 'lip kiss' next, you gotta be quick."
james kisses your lips but he hates how there's not enough time. "gonna put it in two." you say. "but number two and number three are just so close, jamie, i'm not sure."
"that's okay, we're totally doing this every night, you can change that." he whispers against your ear playfully.
"oh, wait." you say. 'forehead kiss' comes next. it's definitely your favorite, james takes an extra second to keep his lips on your skin. "that's number one."
"you're so predictable, sweetheart."
"it's kind of your fault."
you put 'cheek kiss' on number five. it could be number four but you feel a bit distracted by james's lips, you have no strategy left.
"what's number seven, then?" james asks.
'french kiss' comes and you laugh so hard, you drop the phone. "yes!" james says, he laughs with you and change your positions on bed. "we're gonna have to do it, you know."
"yeah? for the game?"
"mm-hmm." he agrees. you lay under him now. "for the game."
the kiss is nice because james stops teasing and kisses you with all his heart. you cup his cheek, pull him closer on top of you. your breathing slows down when your tongues meet, james sucks on your bottom lips deliciously. when you're apart you can't get your thoughts straight.
"that's definitely not number seven." you whisper.
"if only i had this much time to do all the others-" james starts, kisses you again. you spend the next minutes kissing with your eyes closed and bodies entwined. your phone is long forgotten when james takes off your shirt.
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter x fem!reader#james potter fic#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james potter imagine#james x you#james x reader#james x fem!reader#marauders#marauders era#marauders fic#marauders fanfic#marauders fanfiction#marauders imagine#james potter fluff#marauders fluff#fluff
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Hi, would you consider writing about some of the guys (Gale, Halsin, Wyll, maybe Rolan?) reacting to their partner/tav telling them they're pregnant?
oooooo I like this a lot
Gale
The cozy warmth of your home library wrapped around you as you approached Gale, who was immersed in the glow of an arcane tome. He looked up from the pages, his eyes softening as they met yours.
"Gale, dearest" you begin, trying to steady your voice. "There's something I need to tell you."
Concern flashed in his eyes, and he closed the book, giving you his full attention. "What is it, my love?"
You took a deep breath, placing his hand gently on your abdomen. "I'm pregnant."
For a heartbeat, Gale simply stared at you, his face a mix of shock and dawning realization. Then, an elated smile spread across his face. "Truly?" he asked, his voice brimming with joy.
"Truly," you confirmed, smiling back at him.
Gale pulled you into a tight embrace, his happiness radiating from him. "By the gods' grace, this is wonderful news!" He released you and began pacing excitedly, his mind clearly racing. "I have been ready for this since the day I met you. I know exactly what spells will help them sleep, which bedtime stories will ignite their imagination… Oh, and we must start their magical education early!"
You blinked, astounded by his readiness. "You've really thought about this, haven't you?"
"Of course," he said, grinning. "I have so much to share with our child. Imagine teaching them about the Weave, guiding them through their first incantations, and watching them discover the wonders of magic. Oh it's going to be extraordinary!"
Gale's excitement was infectious, and you couldn't help but laugh. "You already sound like the perfect father."
He pulled you into another embrace, his voice softening with emotion. "And you, my love, will be the most incredible mother."
Astarion:
The night was quiet as you approached Astarion, who was lounging by the fire in your underdark estate, a book in hand. He looked up, his eyes gleaming with curiosity as you sat beside him.
"Astarion," you began, your heart pounding, you could tell that he could tell that something was wrong but ever the charmer, he let you speak, "I have something important to tell you."
Astarion raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at his lips. He snapped his book shut and looked at you gleefully "Oh? What might that be?"
Taking his hand, you placed it on your stomach and looked him in the eyes. "I'm pregnant."
For a moment, Astarion just stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then he chuckled, shaking his head. "You must be joking."
"I'm not joking," you said firmly, your eyes locked on his.The disbelief slowly melted from his face, replaced by a look of bliss and panic.
"You're serious," he whispered. "We're going to have a child?"
"Yes," you said, "We are having a baby, my love.... is that okay?"
"Is that okay?"Astarion's eyes sparkled with joy, and he pulled you into a tight embrace. "This is incredible!, my darling We're going to have a miniature me running around! Oh how delightful."
His excitement was infectious, and you couldn't help but laugh. "That's what you're excited about?"
"Of course!" he said, grinning from ear to ear. "Just think of it – a little one with my charm, my wit, and of course, my good looks."
You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart swelled with happiness. "You are incorrigible, Astarion."
"And you love me for it," he teased, kissing you softly, you felt yourself melt into it, relief and love poured into it. He then slowly pulled away, "But truly, this is rather excellent news I could have... have ever received." Aatarion, rested his forehead against yours, and you can see his eyes begin to water." We will have a family, all ours, and I will make sure they have everything they need."
Your heart melted at his words, and you hugged him tightly. "I know you will, Astarion, my love. We'll make sure they have a wonderful life."
Wyll
The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the garden as you approached Wyll, who was sparring with a practice dummy. You tried to tell him that the practice dummy did not compliment your peonies and roses but he argued otherwise. His movements were fluid and precise, but he stopped immediately when he saw you approaching with a radiant smile on your face.
"Wyll," you called out, trying to keep your excitement in check. "Can we talk for a moment?"
He sheathed his sword and wiped the sweat from his brow, giving you his undivided attention. "Of course, my heart. What’s on your mind?"
"Well, it's not so much on my mind rather than on me.." You murmured before taking a deep breath in. "I'm pregnant."
For a second, Wyll stood frozen, his eyes widening in shock, and you panicked, was this too soon? Was he not ready? But then, a brilliant smile broke across his face, and he let out a joyous laugh. "Are you serious?" he asked, his voice trembling with excitement.
"Yes, I am," you confirmed, your own smile growing wider as you rested your hands on your stomach. "The healers confirmed it this morning."
Without warning, Wyll swept you up into his arms and spun you around, his laughter ringing through the air. Your skirt billowed in the morning sun and you wished you could hold onto this moment forever.
"This is the best news I've ever heard!" he exclaimed, setting you down gently but keeping his arms around you. "We’re going to be parents!"
He kissed you deeply, joyfully and when he finally pulled back, he was beaming. You laughed, cupping his cheek, relishing in the delight of it all.
"I can't wait to tell everyone," he said, practically vibrating with excitement. "We're going to be parent! Parents!" Wyll then turned away from you and cupped his hands around his mouth, yelling into the sky. "We are going to be parents! I'm going to be a father!"
"Slow down, Wyll," you laughed, your own heart swelling with happiness as you walked over to him, pulling on his arm.. "We should probably tell the others, first, - and gently! No shouting.."
"Of course, of course," he agreed, but you could see he was barely able to contain himself, oh he was so going to shout. "Oh, my father – he will be so thrilled! I am so thrilled! I am going to be a father!"
Wyll's joy was infectious and you both immediately set off to share the wonderful news, by the end of the day Wyll had completely lost his voice, though that did not stop him from holding up a piece of parchment that declared he was going to be a father.
Halsin:
You found Halsin in his study, the warm glow of candlelight illuminating his broad frame as he poured over ancient texts. His healing skills often had him delving into herbal remedies and nature’s secrets, but tonight, you had something far more personal to share.
"Halsin," you called softly, stepping into the room.
He looked up, his eyes immediately softening at the sight of you. "My heart, what brings you here at this hour?"
Taking a deep breath, you approached him, your hands resting on your belly. "I have some news. I'm pregnant."
A warm smile spread across Halsin's face, and for a moment, you thought he looked almost... knowing. "Pregnant, you say? That's wonderful news!"
You narrowed your eyes playfully, placing your hands on your hips, you pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You already knew, didn't you?"
Halsin chuckled, reaching out to pull you into his lap, you allowed it but included some mock resistance. Halsin pressed a tedded kiss to your neck.
"I might have had my suspicions," he admitted, his large calloused hand coming to rest on your stomach. "As a healer, certain signs are hard to miss. That and the fact you keep stealing my honeycomb when you think I am not looking, and the constant throwing up and nausea and the-"
"-Okay! Okay, I should have realised sooner, I get it." You playfully scolded him, tapping his chest. "But you didn't think to tell me sooner?"
His eyes twinkled with amusement and affection. "I wanted you to discover it in your own time, to have that moment of joy for yourself." He now kissed your forehead tenderly. "And now that you know, we can share in this happiness together."
You couldn't stay mad at him, not when he was looking at you with such love and admiration. "I suppose I can forgive you," you said with a mock sigh, resting your head against his broad chest.
Halsin's hand gently caressed your stomach, his touch filled with reverence. "You will be a wonderful mother," he whispered, his voice filled with certainty. "Our child will be blessed to have you."
"And they will be blessed to have you as their father," you replied softly. Halsin's embrace tightened around you, his love and warmth enveloping you completely.
"We will raise this child together, with all the love and care they deserve."
As you nestled in his arms, you felt an overwhelming sense of contentment and joy. The future seemed bright and full of promise, with Halsin by your side.
Rolan:
The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over Sorcerous Sundries as you found Rolan sorting through a stack of spellbooks. His brow was furrowed in concentration, but he looked up and smiled when he saw you approaching.
"Hey, what brings you here?" Rolan asked, setting the books aside and giving you his full attention. "Isn't there trouble you should be getting yourself into so your darling lover can come and save you?"
"For once, trouble found me- well us, and it's all my darling lover's fault." You smiled nervously and crossed your arms.
His smile faltered slightly, concern flickering in his eyes. "What is it? What did I do?"
You uncrossed your arms and reached out and took his hands in yours, looking into his eyes. "I'm pregnant."
For a moment, Rolan just stared at you, his face going pale. "Pregnant?" he repeated, his voice shaky. "Are you sure?"
You nodded, squeezing his hands gently. "Yes, I'm sure."
Panic flashed across his face, and he started to pull away, running his hands through his hair. "But… how? I mean, I know how, but… are we ready for this? What if I'm not a good father? What if I mess everything up?"
You stepped closer, taking his hands again and holding them firmly. "Rolan, listen to me. You will be an excellent father. You are kind, compassionate, and intelligent. Our child will be lucky to have you as their father."
He looked at you, his eyes wide and filled with uncertainty. "But what if I can't do it? What if I don't know how to be a father?"
You smiled reassuringly, cupping his face in your hands. "We'll learn together. We have each other, and we'll figure it out. You're not alone in this."
Rolan took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "You're right. I can do this. We can do this."
You kissed him softly, feeling the tension in his body begin to ease. "Yes, we can. And we'll be a wonderful family."
Rolan finally smiled, though it was still tinged with a bit of nervousness. "I guess I should start reading up on parenting then, huh?"
You laughed, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Yes, but we have plenty of time. Right now, let's just focus on us."
Rolan nodded, pulling you into a warm embrace. "Thank you for believing in me," he whispered. "I love you."
"I love you too," you replied, holding him tightly. "And I can't wait to start this journey with you."
I can picture Rolan just freaking tf out, bless him. Hope you all enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox
#bg3#baldurs gate 3#bg3 tav#baldurs gate tav#baldurs gate iii#astarion#gale#gale x reader#baldurs gate gale#gale of waterdeep#bg3 gale#gale dekarios#gale x tav#gale x pregnant!reader#astarion baldurs gate#astarion x reader#bg3 astarion#astarion bg3#baldurs gate astarion#astarion x tav#astarion x pregnant!reader#astarion ancunin#spawn astarion#spawn astarion x reader#wyll x reader#wyll#wyll bg3#baldurs gate wyll#bg3 wyll#wyll ravengard
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May I request some Luffy smut? Maybe including some aphrodisiac of some kind or influence from a devil fruit- I don't mind! I'd just love to see your ideas
I am SO sorry this has taken so long, thank you to everyone who's sent in requests for being so patient. Life has been kicking my ass this month so badly I haven't even been able to read any fanfic, let alone write it. Fingers crossed that the end of November is kinder than the beginning!
I'm really excited to have finally finished this request, I'm a big sucker for sex pollen/aphrodisiac stuff so this was really fun for me! Also, this was my first time writing for Luffy, so I hope I did him justice!
Need
Pairing: Luffy x Reader
NSFW
Summary: You find your Captain in dire need of a little help. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't provide? Warnings: Smut, Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiac, Oral Sex (Reader receiving), Vaginal Sex Word Count: 1.8k
You should have known something was wrong when the ship was quiet. The Thousand Sunny is never quiet. There’s always the sound of clashing metal, of excited voices, of a song dancing its way across the deck. But you don’t hear a single noise outside of your door, nor do you see anyone as you pad your way outside.
You knew that you were docking soon, that your crew would leave to explore the island, but you didn’t expect them to leave without waking you up. You had been on night watch last night, so you certainly needed the rest, but you’re not used to them not at least momentarily waking you to let you know where everyone’s going.
Your surprise and confusion only grows as you hear someone crashing through the brush, and you see your Captain emerge, sprinting precariously toward the ship as though he’s being chased.
“Luffy?”
He doesn’t answer as he continues to rush forward, launching himself up onto the Sunny. Luffy stumbles onto the deck, teetering dangerously towards the railing. Before you can rush to catch him, his back hits the wood, and he lowers himself to the ground, legs splayed out. You can’t even tell if he can see you until he murmurs your name. He’s dripping with sweat, his face red.
You kneel down between his legs, leaning forward to try to get a good look at him. You can’t see any visible injuries, but clearly something is horribly wrong. “Are you okay, Luff?”
“No.” His voice is nothing but a whine, his eyes glassy and unfocused. “Need…something.”
“Something?”
Luffy glances around, pout on his face. “Something. Dunno what.”
You reach out to rest your hand on his forehead, which is burning so hot you almost pull it back in shock. He leans into your touch, giving off a soft hum. “You have a fever. Do you know what happened to you?”
“Nothing happened. We were all exploring, and we split into groups, and then…hm…I ate that fruit Zoro picked.”
Oh god. Zoro’s not exactly a botanist, or a survivalist, and for a single moment you believe with every fiber of your being that your dear friend has accidentally poisoned your captain. “What kind of fruit was it?”
“I dunno. It was sweet. And red.”
You sigh. “That doesn’t narrow it down at all. God, you would think that eating one mystery fruit in your life would be enough for you.”
His indignation beats out his discomfort for just a moment. “The first one went really well.”
You guess you can’t argue with that. “Can you remember anything else about it? We can rule out any devil fruit since you haven’t…exploded.”
“It was warm. And it made me wanna come find you.”
That makes you pause. “It…made you want to find me? Like specifically me?”
“Yeah.”
You have a bad feeling about this. “Do you know why you wanted me?”
He squints in concentration. “To…make it better.”
“How?”
He grabs your hand and places it back on his face. The sound he makes is borderline erotic. “Like this. This helps.”
The warmth against your hand, the moan that escapes your captain, the tent you can see growing in his pants, it all starts painting a very troubling picture. A very tempting one, but troubling nonetheless. “Luffy, are you warm anywhere in particular?”
“My stomach. And lower.” He pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around you and burying his face in your neck. His nose nuzzles against you, and he takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent and sighing. His hands gently massage against your hips, reveling in the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips. “You’re soft,” he murmurs, lips brushing lightly against you. You clench your thighs involuntarily, a move you hope he doesn’t notice.
“You’re—ahh!” One of his hands moves up to your breast, squeezing your breast through your shirt, and he moans again at your squeak. “You’re not in your right mind, Luffy! I think that fruit was—ah!” His hand slides beneath your shirt, then your bra, and finally he pinches your nipple.
“Come closer.” His voice is thick as he pulls you onto his lap. “I think this is fixing it. Feels nice.” He jerks his hips, and you can feel his hardness rub against you. You try to keep your moan inside of your mouth, but when you do, he huffs, and ruts into you harder.
“Luffy!”
He grins. “That’s better.” As his hand begins to slide down the front of your pants you finally come to your senses and grab it, stopping him in his tracks. He blinks at you, a little clarity coming back to his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“You–you’re clearly under the influence of something, and I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want–”
“I want it.” The hand slides slowly down further. His voice grows hungrier, more desperate. “I need it.”
With the way he’s looking at you, pupils blown out and cheeks flushed, you believe him.
“Well if you really need it, I’d hate to deprive you, Captain.”
He grins, and before you know it, you’re pinned to the deck, your shirt and bra removed, Luffy’s teeth pressing insistently against your chest. He shoves his hand unceremoniously between your legs, making a small noise of satisfaction against you when you squeal. His fingers slide against your clothed clit, sending a shiver up your spine and slowly building the heat in your gut. He hums quietly, “It’s wet.” He looks up at you. “For me?”
You flush, before nodding quickly. You can’t bring yourself to look at him out of fear you’ll combust. You can see the sweat sliding down the muscles in his arms and chest, his tongue peeking out of his mouth as he pants. He looks even better than you’d ever dreamed, his eyes radiating a hunger than you never expected to be directed at you.
He quickly slides down your pants and underwear in a single motion, and in your surprise you press your thighs together, shielding yourself from him. He practically growls, “Stop that. Wanna taste.”
He pries your thighs apart, diving into you with the same enthusiasm he does everything else. His tongue laps at you with reckless abandon as he sloppily takes everything you’ll give him. His hands pull you impossibly closer, his nose brushing against your clit as his mouth explores. When you moan, he laughs against you, the rumble of it spreading across your sensitive skin and making your thighs tense around his head. You worry you’ll suffocate him, drown him, but he doesn’t seem to mind losing to you.
You can feel the tension building in your body, your legs shaking as you come closer and closer to your peak. Your hands grip the grass beneath you, one second away from ripping it out of the deck entirely. Some part of you is hyper aware of the fact you are out in the open, where anybody could see or hear, but the rest of you is lost in the pleasure of the moment, in the feeling of your Captain’s tongue against you. So you don’t try to stop your back from arching as your climax grows nearer, nor do you make any attempt to hold back your cry as you cum on your Captain’s face.
He pulls away from you, his face dripping, his pupils blown out, and his lips upturned into a dazed smile. You can’t bring yourself to look away as he slowly licks his lips, savoring every drop of you. Without a word, his mouth crashes into yours, and you can taste yourself on his lips. His hands roughly force down his pants, exposing his weeping cock to the cold air. He lets out a borderline whimper of relief against your lips, before pulling back just long enough to whisper, “Get ready.”
“Lu–ah!” He thrusts into you in one smooth stroke as his lips once again insistently press against yours, stealing your breath away. You can feel every inch of him as your body welcomes him in, clenching around his length. He moans into your mouth, the sound deep and wanton. He gives both of you little time to adjust before his hips are rocking, chasing the release he’s been so desperate for. He’s moving so quickly you’re surprised he was patient enough to even wait this long. His hands are borderline bruising on your hips, his teeth clacking against yours as your kiss grows rougher and rougher, as your dear friend and Captain pounds into you with the fervor of an animal in heat.
You can feel his muscles tense under your fingers as you pull him tighter. His breaths grow more ragged with every moment, and as he finally pulls away from your kiss you get to see the beautiful sight of the dam breaking as Luffy finally cums. His face is filled with a mix of relief, exhaustion, and affection as he gives a final few thrusts, your own climax coming not soon after. He collapses on top of you, and the weight is more comforting than crushing, though it steals your breath away anyway.
“I was right.” His voice is sleepy and slow, and you can’t help but picture the faces of your friends as they find you stripped bare and pinned to the deck below your Captain. Sanji might have a breakdown.
“Right about what?”
“I needed you. You fixed it.” His hand comes to rest on the back of your head affectionately, and he places a comically loud smooch on your forehead.
“So you’re all cured?”
“Ye–” He hums, and you can see an idea take him as his face scrunches up and his eyes shift away. “No. I think we’ll need to do this again.”
You can’t keep the smile out of your voice as you respond. “Oh yeah? How many more times, do you think?”
“I dunno. A lot. It could take a while.”
You laugh. “You know, I think we can do this as many times as it takes.”
He lets out an overjoyed laugh. “Awesome!”
“But first we should get inside before anyone else gets back. I don’t really want them to see me like this.”
He nods, quickly scooping you up and carrying you in the direction of his cabin. Before you can say anything else, you hear the voices of your crew coming closer, and you quietly urge him to rush.
You only get a moment of relief before you hear Zoro’s confused voice.
“Whose clothes are these?”
Your panic is quickly overshadowed by Luffy’s booming laugh rumbling through his chest, spreading the same infectious joy that he always does. The embarrassment is worth it, just to hear such a wonderful sound.
Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @saturogojosgirl @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay
#luffy x reader#monkey d luffy x reader#one piece x reader#one piece#luffy x y/n#luffy x you#one piece luffy#monkey d luffy#x reader#op
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mommy kink w nerd hyuck
(MDNI)
mommy kink ofc , begging muahaha , sub hyuck , hyuck is inexperienced ofc , hyuck getting head , hyuck in glasses , hyuck got public hair idc men rarely go bare and i love it , handjob , first time writing a mommy kink and i'm not really into writing it but for hyuck i like when he's whiny so i made the effort LMAO , requested here !
"m-mommy?"
hyuck's nerves were evident in his constant stuttering. he'd never even gotten head, let alone called someone mommy sexually.
you nodded, a warm smile on your lips as you looked up at him. your hands softly massaging his thighs, trying to calm his heavy breathing, if only you knew what your touch did to him.
"yeah baby, do you like the sound of that?"
hyuck felt his pants tighten at the idea of calling you mommy, he'd call you anything if it meant you'd use him in any way you wanted. you giggled, reaching forward to squeeze his bulge, a tiny whine leaving hyuck's lips as his hands gripped the sheets.
"i guess this speaks for itself hm? so eager already baby."
he let out another whine at the nickname, biting his lip out of embarrassment, he felt like he could cum right now and you hadn't even touched him yet. you reached up to unbutton his pants, looking up at him to make sure he okay with continuing. hyuck nodded quickly when your eyes met, breathing already increasing in pace.
you were quick with your fingers unbuttoning his pants before tugging the waistband down slightly, hyuck lifted his hips to help you remove his pants, quickly moving your hands away to pull them off himself, impatience eating at him.
if the desperation wasn't clear by his quick movements and small whines, it was extremely clear in the appearance of his cock. standing tall and hard, leaking tip a light shade of pink, your eyes trailed down to the base of his length, a neatly trimmed patch of hair adorning the area. your fingers came up to touch the hair, a shaky breath leaving hyuck's lips,
"you shaved baby? almost like you were expecting this? didn't you just come over to tutor me, hm?"
you looked up at him a playful glint in your eyes, urging him to confess. he bit his lip before responding,
"yes."
"yes what hyuckie?"
"yes mommy, was just hoping we'd do something other than studying."
his breath shuddered as you kissed his tip softly, cock bouncing in place. you wrapped your fingers around his base, guiding the tip back to your lips for another kiss,
"so much for hoping right baby?"
hyuck's response died in his throat as you slowly sank down on his cock, warm mouth surrounding him.
"oh my- fuckkk y/n feels so good, shit."
you giggled removing his length from your mouth before slapping his thigh lightly,
"nice words only hyuck, don't be a nasty boy."
he pushed his glasses up swallowing hard, nodding quickly,
"s-sorry mommy, please don't stop, feels good, please."
you let out a little hum of approval before running your tongue along his slit, wrapping your lips around his head to suck gently, precum salty on your tongue.
you'd be lying if you said hyuck was small, dick longer and fatter than average, but he clearly didn't seen to know how well endowed he was, fingers tangled in your hair urging you to take more,
"please mommy, just a little more, not enough, please."
his whiny voice and pouty lips were enough to give you encouragement, working your jaw open a bit more to take more of him. you were a little over half way down before you felt him hit the back of your throat, shutting your eyes so you could focus on breathing through your nose, no way you were letting this virgin know you were actually struggling to take him. you swallowed around him, smiling as he let out a long moan, grip on your hair tightening.
"m-mommy oh my god, just like that feels s' good."
you swallowed around him again before hollowing your cheeks, slowly dragging your mouth off of his length, looking up to watch him throw his head back, glasses almost falling off. you replaced your mouth with your hand using your spit to quickly jerk him off, twisting your hand around his tip, a high pitched whine left his lips as he brought his head back down to watch your movements, hand coming up to fix his thick rimmed glasses.
"feel good hyuckie? like this?"
your free hand came up to wrap around his base as you continued to work on his tip, wet sounds coming from between you two. hyuck leaned forward, holding onto your wrists.
"mhm mommy, s' good, gonna cum, please mommy can i cum, please, oh my-."
you let go of his tip, deciding to wrap you lips around him instead, hollowing your cheeks as you swirled your tongue around him, your hand on his base now working up and down.
"i'm gonna cum, mommy, i'm gonna cum, please please."
you felt his grip on your wrists tighten before his warm cum filled your mouth. you swallowed quickly drinking him in as he let out a whiny moan, foggy glasses on the tip of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut.
you removed your lips from him with a loud pop before smiling up at him. he gave you a tired smile, his gentle fingers coming up to wipe the corner of your mouth,
"thank you mommy."
"anytime my pretty boy."
hyuck had no idea he'd like calling you mommy this much.
#jji lee#nct#nct dream#nct imagines#haechan#lee haechan#haechan smut#haechan imagines#donghyuck#lee donghyuck#nct haechan#nct smut#nct dream smut#nerd hyuck#request
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