#Family Drama
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#tiff and eve#comic strip#original art#webcomic#transgender#newspaper comics#trans comic#trans character#trans girl#family drama#trans problems#cartoonist#trans artist
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UHHHHHHHHH- OKAY LET ME EXPLAIN.
First of all, Forgettable!AU amv fanart stuff for @sunsestart cause this story is fukn magical and i cant wait to see what happens :3
Second of all ((in depth explanation))
I heard this song (Wasted Summers by juju<3) and I went *gasp* its skelebros fr fr. Plus I was already in desperate need of something to draw so BOOM!! Inserted in my brain for the next 3 days
EXPLANATION FOR THE AMV! ALL THINGS STATED AS âFACTâ THAT HAVENT BEEN SAID ON THE BLOG ARE JUST MY SILLY LITTLE HEADCANONS!
Blue represents Sans and Green represents Papyrus/Wingdings. As kids when they were in waterfall, shocker, TEAL WAS ALL AROUND!!! They were harmonious and it was awesome. Then :(((
(what happens when you birth a skeleton kid who has a completely incomprehensible font??? 0 SOCIAL INTERACTION!!!!!!)
The 0 social interactions besides his brother thing kinda gets to him sometimes. Mostly subconsciously, and yeah bros a little irritable. Slamming doors, worrying his brother, fun family friendly not sibling angst stuff.
Also did ya see :3 when WD turned around his eyelights went out :3 we like to have fun here.
Also in the first little bit showing them finding stuff in the garbage dump as kids, the next shot is only Sans finding the stuff. cause WD is in the lab. and the colors are so lifeless and dull compared to when they were kids ((suddenly in tears))
ALSO THAT TV BIT, WD on tv being announced as The New Royal Scientist! and him just being so uncomfortableđ has been a visual in my head for a while, so glad i got to draw that now
OK AND LAST âALSOâ. That last part with WD working on Blueprints and saying âyes you canâ is the scene where Sans is like LETS DO SOMETHING OUTSIDE and WD is like ânah⌠imma do my own thingâ
ok I lied, last also. the âyes I canâ part of the lyrics. First theyâre talking about how âoh you could totally work in the lab when you grow upâ and âomg no way⌠only if YOU also work in the lab when you grow upâ
Then theyâre talking about how âoh you can leave if you want. shut up lemme finish my workâ and ââŚomg I CAN get him out of the labâ
(ww a a ah h)
OKAY THATS ALO BYYYEEE
#undertale#undertale fanart#forgettable au#forgettable au fanart#undertale au#papyrus undertale#sans undertale#sibling angst#family drama#undertale animation#undertale amv#amv
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Hello, Happy Valentine's Day, first of all and second, I always liked the idea of Alastor dating a relative of the Overlords, so could you make Alastor dating Zestial's granddaughter? q(â§â˝âŚq)đť
OMFG. I can tell Zestial will be a pissed off grandpappy with his granddaughter and just wanting to keep us away from Al! Haha! I love this! Sorry, kinda short!
Alastor- Rose Drop
Needless to say⌠your grandfather isnât happy about this. He is the only family you have in Hell and as a result, Zestial is protective over you. Wanting you to stay safe and away from specific threatsâŚ
So when you begin dating Alastor, Zestial is pissed off and already on the Radio Demonâs case. He is demanding to know why and for Alastor to explain himself, already threatening to throw hands if he dares try manipulate you
Zestial may be your grandfather but he acts more like your father than he actually is. Itâs not like you hate your grandfather⌠you really do love him dearly, you just wish he wouldnât be so naggy and involved in your life
Alastor is a gentleman at his core so he treats his girlfriend with much respect, he is protective but he doesnât suffocate you and he likes to hold your hand as you two walk. Of course, you have your grandfather over your shoulder the entire time
Alastor is quite patient. Believe it or not, he wonât ever get annoyed by your protective and guarding grandfather but instead, heâll establish boundaries with Zestial and asks him to not treat you like a child, further fuelling your passionate love for the Radio Demon
Alastor can handle the fact and respect the fact Zestial is the only family you have and youâre quite close to him, and his behaviours is understandable but he doesnât want Zestial to ruin your relationship so he will make sure everybody walks out happy
Alastor wants your grandfatherâs permission and blessing so when you two tell Zestial about your relationship properly, Alastor sucks up to him to get the right to date you. He wants everything to go well, he wants both of you to be happy
Alastor finds you beautiful, constantly calling you as such. You do resemble your Overlord grandfather very well and he doesnât even care if it seems off, he loves you and he wants your attention, hence why he is doing all this
Zestial may not be happy about the fact youâre dating his fellow Overlord but he wonât ever try break this up. He can see from across the room just how much you two like each other and he is happy for you
Alastor is kissy and affectionate in front of the other Overlords, itâs quite cute to see a man like him so sweet and doting. He loves you and he canât keep it to himself, youâre his little very old-fashioned glowy vampire~!
âOh. My dear, would you like to come out to the cafĂŠ with me? I had spoken to your old man, he said it was all good for us. Now, may we?â
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagines#hazbin hotel love#hazbin hotel headcanons#hazbin hotel characters#vivziepop hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#romantic alastor#boyfriend alastor#romantic alastor x reader#alastor headcanons#alastor x reader#alastor#radio demon x reader#hazbin radio demon#the radio demon#radio demon#hazbin hotel radio demon#vivziepop#romantic headcanons#romantic#boyfriend#boyfriend imagines#family drama#half drama
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Drama-Bomb: Part 1
Marinette was excited to finally have some free time in her schedule and she wanted to spend it with Damian. She had messaged Alfred ahead of time to make sure the family was out and Damian was available. Damian had insisted his family would pry into their relationship and wanted to keep it private, just a bit longer. She didn't mind, after the stories he told her about his families relationships and how they panned out.
Mari rang the door bell and as expected, Alfred opened the door immediately.
"Master Damian, you have a guest." he called.
Summoned, Damian walked to the door in annoyance. He felt himself lighten when he saw his girlfriend standing there.
"Habibiti?" he questioned, still slightly unbelieving she was there.
"Alfred mentioned everyone would be busy today." she smiled.
Alfred nodded his head and closed the door behind Marinette. He had never seen his grandson so happy and he wanted to keep it that way. What was another secret amongst the many this family kept?
Damian grabbed her hand and started explaining about the book he hand been reading. Alfred watched as he started leading her towards the library. As he turned back to the kitchen, the bell rang again.
'No one else was to arrive.'
"Master Damian." Alfred called out, once more, "You have another guest."
The couple turned to see Talia standing in the door way.
"Hello, Damian." she smiled, "Mother has returned."
Damian froze for a moment and he knew his mother had caught it.
"Marinette, this is my mother, Talia Al Ghul." he quickly explained, "Mother, this is Marinette; my girlfriend."
"It's very nice to meet you, Miss." she smiled, before turning to Damian, "I'll come back another day. You told me you don't get to see her often."
'Oh? He speaks of me?'
"Do you mind if I speak to him in priavte, for a quick moment?" Marinette questioned.
"Of course." his mother smiled.
Damian led her to the living room, confused. Talia couldn't help but follow and take a peek. She didn't expect to see the young woman to smack her son on his head.
"What?" Damian hissed.
"You didn't tell me you mother looked like a Goddess!" She whisper-shouted at him, "I'd be happy to look 10% like her when I grow up. I thought you looked like your dad!"
Damian smirked, "Well you sure hit as hard as she does. You look beautiful, Habibiti. I have no doubt you will look just as beautiful as her."
He quickly placed a kiss on her forehead. Mari rolled her eyes and kissed his cheek.
"Go spend all the time you can with your mother." She smiled, "I'm only a call away."
Talia returned to Alfred's side , amused. Mari bid the, a good day and left. Alfred bowed to Damian and left him to his mother.
"I didn't take you to be the one to take hits, My Dove." Talia smiled.
Damian glared at her, knowing she had eavesdropped on them.
'Should have expected that.'
"I feel insulted." Talia goaded him, "She hits as hard as I do?"
Damian smiled, "She's not a civilian, Mother. Dinner on Father's card?"
"I'd love to." Talia agreed, opening the door for them.
#marinette x damian#damian x marinette#damian wayne#marinette dupain cheng#secret relationship#surprise guests#family drama#mlb x dc#dc x mlb#talia al ghul
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#obikin#obi wan and anakin#anakin skywalker#obiwan kenobi#anaobi#revenge of the sith#ahsoka tano#family drama
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Now that I think about it, doesn't Alberu have like, a bunch of brothers and sisters? Then like, Zed had a lot of partners, though I suppose he only officially married the third prince's mother and the rest are concubines like Alberu's mother. So like, didn't Zed kill his siblings in the fight for throne? Or was it in another story? Did he like, ever think that his successor might choose his path and kill the rest of his kids and perhaps his own father too to sit on the throne?
And this third prince whom Zed favored, I was like, dying to know his name in the beginning. And Alberu's mothers name too. Then I just went like, if the third prince's name was like something long, complicated and hard to pronounce, wouldn't it be hilarious. I can imagine Cale's and Choi Han's reaction when they hear the name for the first time. Cake would just give up cuz it's too hard to say and he couldn't be bothered lol.
Back to the Crossman family. There are so many members there. Like damn. Wouldn't the tea within the family be quite juicy? Like, I can imagine all the family drama behind the doors? The public might not be aware of it, because they like to keep a good image and all. But I am very curious of all the sh*t happening within the palace. I've always thought about it from the day I've heard Zed have multiple kids from multiple women. When Cale hears all the drama, he'd be like, damn, I was right in thinking that nothing would do good if I get involved with you. He might enjoy the tea, but he'd be too scared to get his slacker life dream ruined.
#lcf#lout of the counts family#tcf#trash of the counts family#alberu crossman#alver crossman#zed crossman#the third prince#alberu's mother#the crossman family#family drama#cale henituse#just my random thoughts#just wanted to rant#and waste the precious tine i have for my exams#my brain is rotting cuz of this book#like damn#and i had this thought#had to say it
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bsf! text msgs w matt sturniolo x fem!reader
part 9 -> part 8
WARNING : quite suggestive, family issues !
forgive me if this makes 0 sense cs i havent eaten anything today and my brains SLOW đŞđ
people, im sorry, but i quit the taglist cs, like, it legit doesnt work for me đđ but, if someone wants to teach me, just dm me on instagram !! my ig is âteralikesdudesâ
(was going to post this ages ago but gave up)
#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#mattsturniolo x reader#tumblr#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#text messages#christopher sturniolo#fanfic#matthew sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#text post#text message#taglist#suggestive#family drama#family issues#dad#bsf!matt#bsf#best friends
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Humans are weird: Family Drama
( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)
To Abarxsis oneâs family was something sacred and meant to be treasured. It contained those who were with you from the first moments of your age and would join you along your journey through time longer than any friend or colleague could. It was a feeling he held onto greatly and shaped the foundation of who he was. It was a trait he was glad to see shared amongst many humans as they too sought out family to such an extreme that they would pack bond with anyone or anything to obtain that sense of unity. Yet it was with some great surprise that when he inquired about his human loversâ family they would refuse to even mention them.
 Whenever the topic of family was brought up their mood would shift like a switch had been flipped and all the joy and expression of them would bleed away and be replaced with a cold chill. Abarxsis learned that it was unwise to bring up the topic, but he still could not let it go until he knew why they were so against their own kin.
One night, Abarxsis was watching human entertainment while his lover slept and saw a strange situation unfold. The protagonist, like his lover, also was estranged from their family and refused to meet them. So the other characters surprised them by inviting their family over without telling them so the two parties could reunite and make peace once more.
This notion of restoring unity gave Abarxsis the idea that he could do the same for his lover and so he set out to track them down himself. It took several months of messages and follow ups until finally he had tracked down their family. When he mentioned that he wished for them to reunite they were thrilled at the prospect and agreed to meet them for dinner.
The day finally came and Abarxsis had taken his lover out under the pretext of a romantic dinner. When the pair arrived the rest of the family was already waiting at the table. They stood and smiled as the pair approached and extended hands of friendship, but Abarxsis noticed his lover had remained frozen at the doorway.
A myriad of emotions went across their face as their eyes focused on the family. Their hands tightened into fists as they looked slowly from the table to Abarxsis, who was still smiling, and glared at him.
âYou did this?â she asked through clenched teeth.
The smile quickly fell away from Abarxsisâs face as he realized something was very much wrong.
âAbarxsis did.â He confirmed. âAbarxsis saw how talking of family upset Kelly, so Abarxsis-â
Kelly turned and left the room without hearing out the rest of his reasoning. He turned back and saw Kellyâs family looking confused and went after his lover. She stood out in front of the restaurant pulling out her communicator to summon a hover cab.
âWhat is wrong?â Abarxsis asked as he came up behind her. Kellyâs head turned to him to see it now awash with rage and angerâŚ.and betrayal, much to Abarxsisâs surprise.
âI told you I didnât want to talk about my family.â Kelly began, her fists still clenched tight. âI had made it perfectly clear that I had no desire to speak with them, or speak of them, or even be near them from the moment we met.â
âAbarxsis knowâs this-â Â Abarxsis began but Kelly held up a hand to forestall him.
âYou donât speak,â she remarked harshly, âjust stand there and listen because I am about to be as fucking direct as I can possibly be.â
Kelly only swore to Abarxsis when she was truly angry so Abarxsis remained silent as she continued.
âMy familyâŚâŚâ,she stopped and collected her thoughts for a moment as if a torrent of words wished to flow all at the same time from her mouth, âare nothing but parasites; and I have not wanted them near them since the day I left their hellhole of a home.â
âThey have leached off me financially, mentally, and emotionally all my life. I was the only one to hold a stable job and they expected me to pay for them while they sat around and did nothing. I was the one they came to when they were dumped by their lovers after they found out they were cheating on them. And when I told them I wanted no more part in their problems they berated me by telling me without them I would not even be here so âit was the least you can do to be gratefulâ.â
Abarxsis had seen his lover angry before but this was something else. This was not just simple disdain or annoyance; this was a deep rooted hatred that ran through the core of Kellyâs being.
âI left,â she continued, âbecause it was the only way I could be free from their toxicity and now, despite me telling you otherwise, you have brought that toxicity back to me.â
âBut..â Abarxsis spoke unsurely, âthey are still Kellyâs family.â
âYou were my new family.â Kelly laughed without joy and fixed him with a cold stare. âThey stopped being my family the day I left them.â
A hover car slowly pulled up and the door popped open for Kelly. She started to enter when the rest of the family came out and started calling out to her. Â Abarxsis watched Kelly look back at him and see her expression now one of disappointment and sorrow, before she entered the hover car and closed the door behind her.
The hover car pulled away as the family came up and began calling out Kellyâs name while shouting recent needs for money or how disappointed they were that she hadnât spoken to them in so long. Once the hover car was out of sight the family then turned on Abarxsis making the same demands. Abarxsis looked at them with confusion as this was not what a family should be. The love and support he had felt from his was nowhere within the eyes of Kellyâs former family.
Abarxsis came to understand why Kelly did what she did and realized that despite their constant need to pack bonding and need for family, the human concept of family was something not as simple to define. Â
#humans are insane#humans are weird#humans are space oddities#humans are space orcs#story#writing#original writing#niqhtlord01#family drama
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Never forget that the Doctor's aunt, High Chancellor Flavia, was named Acting President by the Doctor, who wanted to run away from his own Lord President duties.
She adopted an intelligent cat as an advisor while Acting President. She named this Gallifreyan cat....the Doctor.
So notorious little shit of the family, Time Lord Renegade "the Doctor," ran away from Gallifrey, dumping all of his responsibilities on his aunt, and she responded by replacing him with a pet cat.
#i love this family#its so dysfunctional#doctor who#dw#dr who#classic who#flavia#the doctor#fifth doctor#5th doctor#5#the five doctors#high chancellor flavia#cats#gallifrey#lord president#lungbarrow family drama#family drama
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Trash of the Count's AU where: Instead of people thinking bad of Cale when he starts acting out, they instead look bad on Deruth and Violan. Like, the people realise no 8 year old kid is going to act out so drastically so suddenly unless something is going on. Rather its Violan being a wicked step mother, Deruth ignoring Cale in favor of Basen, or the servents treating Cale badly since Violan is the new lady, nobody really knows, but rumors start spiraling. And while nobody says or does anything outright because the Henituse Family is so rich, there is criticism floating around, and it only seems to grow the longer Cale acts out.
When Cale realises his plan backfired, he doesn't know what to do. His plan didn't work! Now people are saying even more rude things about his family! What is he supposed to do now!!
Idk what would happen after that.
#trash of the count's family#lout of the countâs family#henituse family#og cale henituse#family drama
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Coyote Head - Part 7 - Bloodied Kiss
master list
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
Pairing: Cooper Howard x Lucy MacleanÂ
Includes many other characters from Fallout
Synopsis: The nightmares are finally catching up to Lucy.
MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning:Â Animal/people death, Blood, Gore, Body Horror,Violence, Nightmares, Monsters, Alternative Universe, Slow Burn, Death, Aging, Family Feuding, Older Man/Younger Woman
Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. So you have been warned. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.
*Mind the tags
*This had been clawing at my mind for dayssssss I needed to post it early or I was going to explode
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As the dust of the car faded, Lucy felt her shoulders drop, it was barely past mid-day and she was already feeling worn out. She was proud of herself, for not backing down and holding her ground. Max had been the first boy sheâd really fallen for, and it sucked it had ended the way it did. It was time for her to move forward, to let that part of her life go. Move onto what was coming next for her, hopefully, something that wonât end as tragic.
Lucy turned to her two companions as they started to move, happy that they had stood at her back despite having no idea what was going on. She gave a weak smile at the two, trying to shake off the lingering feeling of dread. Â
âYaâdoing okay?â Cooper asks as he moves towards her, the way the afternoon sun shone on his skin making her heart speed up. Her eyes unabashedly went over his body, the man was well-toned. The day-to-day work is evident on the hard lines of his muscles covering him; a crooked grin on his face when Lucy finally catches her eyes.Â
Lucy glances away, as Dane grins at her, âYeah, just, wasnât expecting him to show up. Ever.â
âWell, shirtless. Could I get a hand movinâ some stuff around to get the mower.â Dane chuckles, Cooper smirking at the comment, the tips of his ears going pink. Lucy smiling at the two ribbing each other.
âYeah, I can help the greasemonkey,â Cooper throws back, with raised eyebrows. âShirt got wet. But pipes should be fine.â He said just loud enough for them to hear.
âSure it did,â Dane rolls their eyes as turning to head to the other shed. Cooper gives them a sideways glance before following, a smile on his lips as he looks back at Lucy.
âI will go turn the water back on for the house,â Lucy chirps, her face was going to be stained beet red at this point. She was feeling happy that she had friends like these.
***
Lucy is once again sitting on the counter, the pipes are now running without leaks. Cooper had actually laid in water, which had given Lucy an excuse to toss his shirt into the dryer. Sheâd take any excuse to see the man move around her home and property shirtless. Dane had teased him endlessly about it much to Lucyâs amusement. Dane had taken off about an hour ago with the promise to come back on Monday to continue the work. Lucy had half a mind to figure out how to keep them on a more permanent basis. Something sheâd run by Harris, see if it was worth doing, and if Dane wanted to stay of course.Â
Cooper walks in, putting the caulking gun down beside the sink. Heâd decide after finishing the pipe to fix up several issues around the sink. Lucy was positive she could have figured it out but Cooper was insistent. Really who was she to refuse the offer from a shirtless cowboy in her kitchen. She hands him a beer, he pops the top off with a ring on his middle finger. Lucy adds that to the list of things she found way too hot.Â
âI can make up some dinner?â Lucy offers, she was pretty sure she could find something worth eating in the freezer. She also needed to make sure that she got Cooper some tallow too.
Cooper leans against the counter right beside her, taking a sip of the beer. Lucy canât help but watch how he drinks it. âIf ya donât mind. Grandparents are taking the kidlets to dâpool and pizza after. Figured, weâre going to have a long day. â
Lucy couldnât help the smile that crosses her face, liking the idea of the two of them having an evening just for them. âWere you planning something, Cooper?â
Cooperâs sliding over so that he was leaning against Lucy, âWell, I was goinâ to ask ya out Ms. MacLean, but ya kinda jumped me.â
Lucy's head tipping back in a laugh, taking another sip of her beer. The two of them looked the other over, her eyes trying to memorize the way he looked out of his shirt. âI donât seem to remember you complaining,â
The man puts his beer down shifting so he is standing in front of Lucy, she swallows under his gaze. He leans forward putting a bare arm on either side of her, eyes wandering up her body, their face just inches from each other. Lucy���s breath catches in her chest as his hazel eyes stare into hers.Â
âMâno, I certainly didnât.â Cooper hushes, leaning forward to kiss her again. Lucy canât help the little whine that escapes as she pushes back against him. Her hands ran up his arms, feeling his muscles twitch under the attention. He tastes so good, their tongues finding the other as they pull each other closer.
Her hands come up to cup his face, his hands resting on her thighs, fingers gripping against the flesh there. Lucy lets her legs open so that Cooper can move closer to her. He breaks the kiss, moving down along her jaw, small kisses down her neck. Lucy whimpers as he licks down her neck, his large hands rucking up her shirt. The callous on his fingers makes her body vibrate as he touches over her skin.Â
âCooper,â Lucy whimpers, her hands running up into his hair, as his hands cup her breast through her bra. âMâmaybe we should-â His head ducks down, mouth going along her stomach. It feels so good, but itâs so fast. âCooper, we shouldnât-â
His teeth sink into her flesh, âFuck- Ow- Cooper-â Lucy tries to pull him away but he bites in deeper, Lucy can feel her skin tearing. The sound of teeth in flesh, the wet sticky pop, her face twisting in a grimace.Â
Lucy is scrambling, a scream finally leaving her throat at the pain, trying to get him off of her. âStop. Stop-p it.â Lucy cries out, her hands finally pushing him off of her. The skin is not skin anymore, but rough and lizard-like under her hands. Cutting into her palm as she does her best to get it off of her.Â
Itâs not Cooper. Looking up at her, with blood painting its chin like a crimson river, is something that looks like Max. Its features are the same, but eyes instead of brown glow like orange flames, skin darker than shadows. Skin Covered in layers and layers of never-ending shifting scales that move in the light. A bloody grin spreads across its face. There are too many teeth, so sharp, in neverending rows, the pink spit glistening as it grinned up at her. Stomach oozing blood over her pants and dripping on the floor.Â
âJust wanted a taste.â It growls at her, suddenly lunging forward to latch onto her neck.
Lucy is howling and fighting to get it off her struggling, as she falls to the floor. Her body protested as she hit the ground with a thud, the whole room going dark. She is pushing and struggling, but itâs soft now. Her hands are not grabbing at scales but material, eyes adjusting to the new surroundings. She was on the floor of her bedroom; chest heaving as she tries to make sense of where she was, and how she got there.Â
Pushing the blanket off of her, she takes in the room around her. Her bedroom, she had fallen off the bed and landed on the floor. Lucy flips on the light and looks down, pulling up her shirt to look at her stomach. Hands running over where there should be torn tissue, before going up to her neck. Nothing.Â
It had felt real, she could still feel the way itâs teeth had dug into her, the pain that had shot through her body. Looking at the bed Lucy expected to see blood, expected to see something. Throwing off the sheets there was nothing but sweat stains.Â
Lucy collapsed onto the floor, her body trembling at the memory. It looked so much like Max, but it was all wrong. His face had been too round, eyes too far apart, hair too spiky, so many teeth. The eyes, orange fire-filled eyes, glowing like embers burning into her soul like hot ash on ice. Her hands scramble to the side of her table gabbing for her phone.Â
For the first time, she doesnât hesitate, hitting Cooperâs number. Pressing the phone to her ear, she hadnât even looked at the time.
***
Cooper was there in a matter of minutes, Lucy opening the door for him, still in a state of shock. He had immediately gathered her up into his arms, hugging her tight against his chest, refusing to let her go until he got her over to the couch. He had her sit, covering her with several blankets, before moving into the kitchen. A hot cup of coffee with hot chocolate was put in front of her, along with some toast. He slid in beside her, bundling her up and tucking Lucy into his side. Her hands wrapping around him as she shivers, her whole body felt like it was frozen.
âYou doing okay, sweetheart,â Cooper murmurs, his voice rumbling against the side of her head. Lucy could feel herself melting into his side, wanting to find some way to stay there forever.
Lucy swallows, nodding, âJust-â She wasnât even sure how to put it all into words. It wasnât exactly normal to have eighties horror movie dreams every night. âNightmares have been really bad.âÂ
Cooper rubs his hand down her arm, Lucy lets her eyes close for a moment and enjoy the comfort.âHow often have you been having them?â
Lucy snuggled in closer, reaching for the coffee mug and taking a sip. The warm caffeine and chocolate drink heating her insides. âSince the house got ransacked, itâs been nightly.â
Cooperâs chest grumbles at the words, arms somehow pulling her closer to him. âWhat was it about?â
âI donât, I-â Lucy takes a sip of more coffee, before telling him what sheâd dreamt about. Not skipping any details, the warmth of the coffee and his body made it easier to get it off her chest.Â
Cooper hums, he takes his hat off, setting it beside him on the couch, hand running into his hair. He scratches at the stubble for a second. âWell, that wasnât the dreams Iâd hope youâd have of me.â
Lucy smacks his stomach at the joke, a small smile passing on her lips at the jest, âYou think I like this? Iâd much prefer no dreams, or well other dreams.â
Cooper grins, Lucy pouting a little, as he chuckles, âNo, I donât think that, I do worry about the nightmares. Canât âmember the last time I had a night-terror. Why youâre tired all the time?â
She nods, her eyelids weighing heavy despite the coffee and mind-bending visions.âI feel like I am losing my mind, Cooper.âÂ
âYouâre not goinâ crazy, I think ya need sleep. Maybe some time away.â Cooper mumbles into her ear, pushing hair out of her face. âWhy donât ya let me take ya to my home.â
Lucyâs brows furrow, she didnât want him to leave, but she also felt like she should stay. Why did she want to stay? The nightmares never stopped her, the shadows, the taping, the knocking? Yet the thought of leaving made her stomach turn, but when Lucy left she felt lighter.Â
âYou promise you donât think I am going crazy?â Lucy whispers, wondering how much he would believe. How much did she even believe? None of this made sense, not really.Â
He shifts so he can look right at her, eyebrows making his forehead wrinkle.âI promise I donât thinkâyaâre goinâ crazy. Anymore than am goinâ crazy.â
âI feel like I am supposed to be here, even with all the nightmares, the shadows, the house being tossed. I keep cominâ back.â Lucy states, her fingers fiddling with the edge of the blanket. Saying it out loud made it seem even more ridiculous than it had in the confines of her mind.
Cooper nods, placing the mug on the coffee table, hand running up and down her arm more. âItâs not surprisinâ, this place is your home. Itâs where ya grew up.â
âItâs not just that,â Lucy said, sitting up a bit, clutching at the mug, trying to hold onto some shred of reality. âItâs like something is pulling me here. Like I canât leave.â
âSo, leavinâ would probably be wise,â Cooper replies, his hand finding hers. âYouâre sleep-deprived, runninâ on fumes, Lucy. We have a spare room ya can stay in. Until ya can catch up on sleep, have a better view on thinâs with a clear head.â
Lucy sat back, the thought of being off the farm made her stomach twist, but she also needed sleep. Actual sleep sounded amazing, to not feel like she was burning at both ends.Â
She nods her head finally. âYeah, maybe I do need to leave.âÂ
***
Lucy was sitting at her family's dinner table, watching the kids outside to play on the deck. She had slept most of the day away, her exhaustion not feeling nearly as pressing as it usually did. The spring air was warm today, the hints of summer shifting in the air. Sheâd slept most of the day, Cooper had brought her to his place at about three am, the two tiptoeing upstairs. Initially, heâd offered her the spare bedroom, but after opening the door and seeing a pile of laundry, his room was the next best. Cooper had insisted on sleeping downstairs, despite Lucyâs best attempt to get him to stay. Traumatizing the children wasnât high on her list. She was a little peeved he hadnât woken her up, but she was also grateful for the extended rest.Â
Stephanie sat down across from her, glancing out at the kids. They were running back and forth across the deck, possibly paying tag. âHowâs it going, Lucy.â
âI am doing okay,â Lucy lies, there was no reason anyone needed to know any more about her problems. âDid you ever talk to Betty?â
âOh! Yes, Betty.â Stephanie smiled, digging through her phone. âI sent her the photos.â She lets out a sigh, âUnfortunately no dice. Seems like itâs still a mystery.â
âDang was hopinâ weâd get somethinâ more,â Cooper said, sitting beside Lucy. She desperately wants to crawl onto his lap and fall asleep, but instead, she shuffles a little closer. Steph watching the two of them closely, one eyebrow up.Â
âYeah. probably something digginâ like you said.â Steph says, shutting her phone off and leaning back into her chair. âHad any more weird stuff happen?âÂ
Lucy shook her head, not wanting to get into the details, âNope, hoping it stays that way really.âÂ
Bert sat down beside Steph leaning in to give her a quick kiss, âYâall heard about the Roths.â
Cooper and Lucy looking at each other, shaking their heads. It wasnât like they had had a free moment lately.
âLast night something came and killed two calves. Did some damage to some of the cows too.â Bert sighs, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. âLike we needed more loss this year.â
Lucy's mind ran over the property map. The Roth's had a section leased from her that was back half on parkland and half onto her farm. There was also the nightmare last night.
âWhich section was it?â Lucy asks, already knowing the answer.
âThe section southwest of your place, actually,â Reg's brows furrowing. âWeird huh.â
âDo you know what time?â Cooper asks, his hands taping at the table.
Lucy realizing that Cooper was also putting two and two together.Â
âNot sure, I know it was overnight.â Reg replied, âWhy? Something happened with you guys too?â
Lucy swallowed, her hands going to cover her stomach. The feeling of her flesh ripping out, the haunting image of its eyes, the sound of its voice.Â
âNothing of note, we did have a mummified calf. But Barry figures it was just a bad pregnancy.â Cooper shrugs, the action supposed to be of disinterest, but his shoulders stay tight. Lucy is happy that he didn't bring up her nightmares until she got some more sleep it wasnât worth mentioning. Right?Â
âMaybe it's the weird spring. Warming up too fast. Animals reacting to it,â Steph adds, her hand covering Reg's. Her eyes looking between the two of them.Â
Cooper is up and moving as the sliding door opens, Mathias holding a frog in his hand. The little boy had a grin from ear to ear as he holds it up to show his Dad the little critter he'd found.
âCan't bring it in here, buddy. Why don't we go take it to the pond,â Cooper tells him with a smile, petting the little creature his son held up. Lucy smiling as the two wander out of sight.
âSo how long you two-â Steph raises an eyebrow, with a cheshire smile,
âBeen a thing?âÂ
Lucyâs cheeks burn at the words, not realizing how obvious she had been. âNo. Well. Yes. But not that long. Didnât realize I was that transparent..âÂ
The couple chuckle, Steph smiling at her cousin, as she squeezes Regâs hand. Free hand waving at Lucy as if it was nothing.
âYou both need a little light in your lives,â Reg states smiling at Lucy, before looking at his wife.Â
âKeeping things quiet for now. Haven't really talked about it much.â Lusy confesses, Marge coming over to sit at the table.
âKeeping what quiet hon?â Marge questions, holding a cup of tea in her hands. Cooper comes back in through the sliding door, walking over and kissing Lucy on the cheek. Marge chuckles and makes an ahh sound, Lucy doing her damndest not to slide under the table.Â
âAs long as you're both happy,â Harris says, patting Lucy on the shoulder. Lucy having a hard time keeping her cool, it wasnât as if theyâd put a label on things. Theyâd kissed once for crying out loud.
âCould I speak to you for a moment, Lucy?â Harris asks, kissing Marge on the top of her head before moving towards the hallway.
âAbsolutely,â Lucy smiles, looking back at Coope who nods before following her Uncle into the big house.Â
Down past the bedrooms a door leads into a well-lit office, the far wall has three large windows that face out into the backyard and forest line. A large old desk sat in the middle, along with several large filing cabinets and bookshelves. The room was bright against the dark wood, space big enough for two large overstuffed chairs beside the bookcases. On a well-worn stool were three faded bankers' boxes. Lucy recognizes her Grandpa's handwriting on the front. Harris puts a big hand on top of one rotating so he is facing Lucy.
âMe and Margie have,â He pauses looking out the large windows towards the forest. âDebated about whether we should give you these. Tim asked me to burn them. But it didn't feel right.â
Lucy crossed her arms, hugging herself a little as she looked at her Uncle. His usual nonchalant demeanor now scrunched together in tight lines across his face. Pacing back and forth in front of the window as he spoke.Â
âThese are Timâs journals. Going back to a month after your Dad and Uncle went missing.â Harris replies, Lucy, feels a wave of dread wash over her as he moves over to his filing cabinet.
âThey didn't go missing- '' Lucy goes to reply, Harris placing a newspaper in front of her. Headline read Two men killed in farm accident. âYeah, this is what Tim showed me.â
âFlip to page four,â Harris said, Lucy did as he asked, unable to get a read on his emotions. Page four has a smaller blurb, Search for brothers ends. Lucy reads through the blurb, a cold pool of dread weighing in her guts.Â
âThey went missing in the forest. In the forest around my house.â Lucy whispers, her hands shaking as she rereads the words. âThey never found the bodies.â
Harris meets her eyes as she looks up at him, âWhat is going on?â Lucy demands dropping the paper on top of the boxes. âWhy? Why? Did no one tell me?â
âTim made us promise,â Harris said, placing his big bear paw-sized hands on her shoulder, it felt like the weight of the news pressing down on her. âHe didnât want you or Norm to know. He figured that if you thought they were dead you could move on. In ways he never let himself move on.âÂ
Lucy moves away from Harris, a deep sense of betrayal washing over her. âYouâre telling me he didnât think they were dead? Itâs been decades since they went missing.â
Harris had sat himself down in one of the overstuffed chairs. âWe searched and searched for weeks. Even after search and rescue stopped, stuf-,â He rubs one of his big mitts across a day's worth of stubble. âStuff happened during the search. Stuff that doesnât make a lot of sense.â
Lucy sighs, flopping into the chair beside her Uncle, âCould we not be vague, please? I can handle whatever happened then.â
âWhile we were searching, people heard things.â Harrisâs face went pale.
âThey kept hearing Hank call out, or Shaun. It sounded like they were close, but we could never find them. It would go quiet for days, then Me and Tim would go out and hear them again.â
Lucy swallows, âLike it was calling you there.â
Harris looks at her, a knowing look passing over his face. âIt scared some of the volunteers. Hearing them, but never finding them. Then a week before your Mom checked out it stopped. These journals are the first time I even had any idea that it had continued after you both got there.âÂ
âWe spent our entire childhood in and out of those woods.â Lucyâs voice was raised, her heart thudding in her chest. âWhy would he let us in there if he thought it was dangerous?â
Harris looking older than his year. âLucy. If I thought you were in any danger I would have taken you and Norm out of there.â Lucy stands there staring at him, anger subsiding at the honesty in his words. âNo one. Not one of us. Thought you were in any danger there.â
Lucy swallows, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. âOnce you kids arrived, Tim didnât share anything. I thought. I thought he was dealing with the loss of his sons. In his own way, never finding the bodies made him want to hold on to hope. So I let him. Then when he got the cancer diagnosis he brought me these boxes. Telling me to burn them once he was dead. That it would all be over, I didnât know what he meant. But it was like a weight had finally been lifted off of him. â Lucy shifts in her chair, unsure how to feel. âWhen your place got tossed I pulled them out, I read a few.â Harris shifts in his chair, staring at the boxes. âI donât know what I was expecting but you should read them.â
âWhat is in them?â Lucy pushes, feeling like she is waiting for a bomb to go off. Her hold on the world was sliding, and she wasnât sure if she would make it.
âMemories, stuff about your childhood. But also. Other stuff. Stuff I donât know if I can believe.â Harrisâs voice going soft. âI should have told you a long time ago and I am sorry for that. But maybe this will help, maybe put things to rest finally.â
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
PART EIGHT
Tag list: @toogaytofunctiondangit , @hiddlebatchedloki , @whatsorceressisthis @dichromaniac @autumncryptids
*I am gonna say we are onto act 2... it's only gonna get darker from here < 3
**As always likes, comments, shares are soooo appreciated, you can find me Ao3 as well
** Want to be on the tag list let me know
#walton goggins#the ghoul#fallout#cooper howard#ghoulcy#fanfic#writing#cooper howard x lucy maclean#cooper x lucy#lucy x cooper#ao3#fall out#ghoulcy atomic blast#vaultghoul#fallout prime#fallout tv series#writer#horror au#monsters#alternate universe#horror writing#family drama#farm au#farming au
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His Three Daughters (2023)
Dir. Azazel Jacobs
Language: English
#his three daughters#2023#azazel jacobs#natasha lyonne#english#movie screencaps#movie screenshots#film screencaps#screencaps#elizabeth olsen#carrie coon#family drama
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Episode 12 was especially great. The triple date from hell had much to recommend it, but my favorite things were these:
Lin Wan'er is giving Ekaterin Vorkosigan vibes so strongly, and I love it. She's not loud. She's not a fighter. She is IMMOVABLE. That conversation between her and the Second Prince was amazing because you could tell that they both grew up in the palace and both became who they are out of self-defense. But where he is lashing out at any perceived threat in what seems to be a combination of terror and ambition (...the ambition may be terror-related, actually), she has drawn her line of defense internally. Probably because she went through years of what she believed was a terminal illness, she seems to see her life as something she's unable to defend. She can only defend herself, in the sense of who she is and what she believes. She is uncompromising. Which is interesting, because integrity and being true to himself are things Second Prince gave up a long time ago, if he ever dared to have them. They fascinate me! It also cracks me up that Wan'er understands him so much better than he does her.
Secondly, the First Prince. I love him. I hope he doesn't get murdered by politics, but you know, he might not? Because consider this real exchange that actually happened (paraphrased):
2nd Prince: Big brother! Did Fan Xian poison me?! Am I poisoned?! AM I ABOUT TO DIE WHAT SHOULD I DO???
1st Prince: ...Personally I would stop messing with Fan Xian.
And like. That is just solid life advice, right there. What a sensible guy. I hope he takes his semi-feral wife and runs for the border. She would love that.
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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.
Mangoâs 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. Sheâd been disappointed to have lost the final round of the tournament, of course, but the young stick had always rebounded quickly. Sheâd wiped her eyes, offered a handshake to the kindly Ruby kid whoâd 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 childâs 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 stickâs chest at the thought. The day heâd be without his child was still a long ways away, but he knew heâd never be prepared for Goldâs inevitable departure from the nest and into the greater world. He couldnât even begin to imagine a life without her.
âWoohoo!â 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 childâs 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. âEasy there, honey.â He gently scolded, taking the trophy into his own arms. It wasnât particularly large, only about as long as Mangoâs forearm, but it was more than heavy enough to break something if Gold got overexcited and began swinging it around. âLetâs put this somewhere we can show it off, eh?â
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.
âOkay, okay!â 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. âBut Iâm not stopping here! Next tournamentâs in six months, and this time-â Her first pumped excitedly in the air, â-Goldâs going for the gold! Youâre gonna be so proud!â
âIâm already proud!â Mango insisted joyfully, delighting in Goldâs squeal as he scooped his kid into a firm embrace and spun them around, âYou worked so hard for this, Iâd be proud even if you got last place!â
Goldâs only response to Mangoâs 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 Mangoâs comprehension. Just watching that final round had made Mango tired.
But still, he kept his chin up as he informed the younger stick, âAfter all that hard work today, I think itâs only fair that I let you choose dinner tonight. You can have anything you want-â
âSecret ingredient pie!â Gold cheered, throwing her arms up in celebration.
Mango frowned, annoyed for more reasons than that heâd have to throw together the family-famous, overly complicated secret ingredient pie. â-Anything you want thatâs an actual dinner food.â He amended. âIâll make the pie for dessert later, but you need to eat real food too, honey.â
âAww.â Gold groaned, momentarily put out, before springing right back up. âTacos, then?â
âTacos sound good.â Agreed Mango, already compiling a list of ingredients in his head. âIâll need to grab a few things from the store, but that shouldnât take too long-â
âWait!â
Mango had not taken but three steps towards the door when his childâs 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 didnât miss a beat, immediately hopping back and holding out the camera for her father to take.
âWe gotta take one more picture!â The younger stick insisted, âYou took like a million pictures of me at the tournament, but we donât have any of us together!â
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 Goldâs triumphant smile at the podiums, there were none of the two together. Of course there werenât. This was Goldâs special moment, Goldâs 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 wasnât sharing in this victory with her was⌠just so Gold.
How a stick like him ended up with a kid like her heâd never know.
âSo we donât!â Mango agreed lightheartedly, playfully tussling the kidâs hair. âGo get your trophy, weâll take one real quick before I head out.â
While she did just that, Mango took the time to adjust the settings on the camera so the indoor photos wouldnât 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 Mangoâs 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, âSay cheese!â
Trophy held high above her head, Gold cheekily replied, âMascarpone!â
A click, a flash, and the moment was captured forever.
Gold snatched the camera out of Mangoâs 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 childâs frown. Logically he knew that he couldnât just magically make everything in her life all sunshine and rainbows all the time. That just wasnât realistic. But knowing this didnât stop the curdling in his stomach at the thought that something in her life just wasnât perfect, or the urge to fix it, no matter what it took.
âHoney?â He asked gently, âWhatâs the matter? Did the photo not come out right?â He leaned over her shoulder to take a look himself.
Gold didnât resist, tilting the camera so her father could see the picture. âThereâs something else in the background. I thought it might be a smudge, but⌠it has eyesâŚâ
Mango didnât need his child to point out the problem with the picture â he could easily see it for himself. At first glance it did indeed look like a bit of grime had gotten on the cameraâs lens, but a closer look indicated that this wasnât 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 Mangoâs entire body to stiffen.
It was like it was⌠staring at him through the camera.
Unease stole the breath from Mangoâs lungs, leaving him unable to vocalize his confusion. There was nothing like that⌠thing in their home. He was certain there wasnât, 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 Mangoâs expression matched his childâs confusion, âWhat is that-?
A strange noise, like the distorted buzzing of television static, drew the tall stickâs attention back to the photo. Mangoâs 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 Mangoâs spine. âDelete the picture. Now.â
The sudden command â or maybe the unnaturally stern tone in which it fell from Mangoâs lips â caused Gold to jump, briefly fumbling with the camera as her little fingers search desperately for the delete button. When Mangoâs eyes connected again with the picture, he could feel his heart stop as the ghostly imageâs eyes seemed to glow brighter, its hand extending to grab rather than invite. Goldâs 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-
âItâs not working!â Goldâs obvious panic jolted Mangoâs 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 cameraâs 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.
-------------------
â-And weâll finish this off with some fresh basil on top. Then, voila! The perfect lasagna!â 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 â 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 âOld Manâ, as they oh so affectionately called him, could do no wrong. It melted Mangoâs heart, and heâd often wonder if Purple was doing this to him on purpose.
He wasnât the same stick heâd been on the day heâd lost his child, and heâd never be again, but slowly, surely, Purple was helping Mango grow into somebody new. That was a debt heâd never be able to repay.
Purple hummed over the meal, inspecting it exaggerated scrutiny. âNot bad, not badâŚâ They agreed, nodding in approval, âBut itâs missing a little somethingâŚâ
âOh?â 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 heâd ever put in his mouth. Never in his life did Mango think heâd become a gambling man, and yet, here he was.
âYeah, I think it could use a littleâŚâ Purple quickly whipped a white bottle from behind their back. A wild grin spread across their face as they held it precariously over tonightâs dinner, âMAYONNAISE!â
âNO!â 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 Purpleâs lips. âIâm kidding! Iâm kidding!â They assured him between chortles. The kid laughed like a jackal, far louder and scratchier than Goldâs 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.
âYouâd better be.â Mango warned with faux gruffness in his tone. âYouâre enough of a heathen as it is. Thereâs only so much blasphemy one stick can take in his own home.â
âHmph.â Purple huffed dismissively at him, the effect somewhat diminished by the wide grin they couldnât keep off their face. âIf you ask me, you donât blaspheme enough. Still,â A subtle change in Purpleâs demeanor signaled the end of the game. Mango let himself relax and lean against the counter, confident that Purple wouldnât destroy their dinner now that theyâve had their fun, âwe havenât even put this in the oven yet, and it looks incredible! I didnât realize cooking was so much fun!â
Honestly, neither had Mango, before Goldâs presence had forced him to make the jump from an all-instant food diet to cooking from scratch. âItâs quite relaxing.â Mango agreed. âIf youâre interested, I can teach you to make all sorts of new stuff.â
âOh?â 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 Mangoâs heart. âThen maybe⌠maybe you could teach me how to make your secret ingredient pie?â
Mango tried not to wince, but couldnât 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 Goldâs second place trophy being completely out-shined by her smile as she playfully pushed the trophy into her fatherâs 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 couldnât 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 fatherâs heels and tug at his pants, begging to lick the spoon or mix the filling. With age Goldâs interest in the pie hadnât 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, heâd say. Iâll do it later. Maybe next time, again and again, and thenâŚ
And then Gold was gone. There would be no more ânext timeâ.
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 yetâŚ
âWell, itâs⌠a bit much for your first time baking.â Mango waved away Purpleâs request with a too wide smile. His cheeks hurt from forcing his grin so large. âWhy donât we start with something simpler⌠like cupcakes?â
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. âI do like cupcakesâŚâ They brought their eyes up to meet Mangoâs, and the sheer affection reflected back at him, even after being denied, was almost too much for his heart.
âThen we can make cupcakes tonight.â 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. âAFTER you finish cleaning the kitchen, of course.â
âAww, what?!â Purple whined.
âWell, I warned you, didnât I?â Mango laughed off the complete horror on Purpleâs face at the prospect of doing their daily chores. âI told you, âitâs your turn to clean the kitchen, so think carefully about what we cookâ, and you still chose lasagna for dinner.â
An adorable pout was the only response Purple had for Mangoâs 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. âOld man~!â
âNo.â Mango responded coolly, slipping and letting his smile show at Purpleâs aghast expression.
âBut- but- we both made the mess, so we should both clean it up!â They argued back.
Already the older stick was shaking his head. âNope. We already agreed on a chore schedule, and Iâve done all my chores for today, including cleaning up many of your messes. You canât change the rules now just because they donât suit you anymore.â
With that the oven timer dinged, and Mango redirected his attention back to tonightâs 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. âSo not fair.â
âLifeâs not fair, kiddo.â Mango replied back, slamming the door to the oven shut. âGet used to it.â
The kitchen then went silent, save for Purpleâs 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 Mangoâs kitchen like a tornado, sucking Purple in as the colourful gang that made up Purpleâs 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 heâd 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 Purpleâs shoulders in greeting.
Now, Mango didnât necessarily dislike the kids. He honestly thought their positive and forgiving nature was a good influence on Purple. That said⌠âHow the hell did you all get into my house?â He demanded flatly.
Yellow grinned back at him, using Purple as an armrest to prop herself up. âYou left the front window unlocked.â She informed him breezily, entirely too calm.
âI did not.â 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.
âNot the bottom front window.â Blue chimed in, pointing to the clerestory window just above the front entrance. Sure enough, the thing was open, but Mango was absolutely certain heâd have heard the kids come in through that thing. They were many things, Purpleâs 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. Mangoâs 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 groupâs 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.
âWhoops!â Red ran forward to scoop his precious pet up. âSorry Purple! Reuben hasnât seen you in a while, so he got a little too excited, didnât you boy?â Redâs voice went high-pitched and cooing as he praised his pig. âYes, you did! Yes you did, you silly little man!â Purple could only laugh at the tone of Redâs voice and continue to scratch the top of the pigâs head.
As precious as the moment was, Mango couldnât even bring himself to savour it before reality caught up with him. âOh no,â He interrupted, pushing himself to the center of the crowd. âNo, you all know the rules: No Minecraft stuff on the main floor! Keep it in the basement, or take it home!â
Red gasped, holding the pig close. âReubenâs not a stuff! Heâs a member of the family, arenât you boy?â Red scratched under the pigâs head as Purple scratched its ears, utterly lavishing it in attention.
âI donât care if its your twin!â Interrupted Mango. âIâm not getting arrested for video game smuggling because of you chuckleheads!â Back during the âPlanâ, Mango hadnât 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 â this was Purpleâs home too, after all, and he could trust the kid to be careful with their elytra. The rest of the gang? Not so much. âIt stays in the basement, or it goes home. Pick one.â
Red made a show of his reluctant acceptance, sighing theatrically as he picked up his pet. âIâm so sorry, Reuben.â Sobbed the sorrowful stick, clutching the pig close as if this were a eulogy and not just sticking it in the basement. âYouâre just too much pure goodness for this⌠sinful world!â
The display had even Purple, monarch of melodrama themselves, rolling their eyes. âWeâll go down and spend some quality time with him later.â They promised, âWe can⌠uh, play catch?â They suddenly looked a little lost, âDo pigs like catch?â
This seemed to be enough to placate Red, for now. As they walked towards the basement, Mango turned to Yellow. âAnd you-â
âStaffâs already down there.â Yellow promised, briefly flicking through her inventory to demonstrate its emptiness. âTeleported it when we got here, donât worry.â
That suited Mango perfectly fine. In addition to the whole not being arrested thing, heâd 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 â anyone â for Goldâs fate. By the time heâd realized what heâd done, Mango had nearly lost a second child, and almost killed Notch knows how many innocents.
So, needless to say, heâd prefer to not have to look at that thing.
By this point Red and Purple had returned, sans pig. Greenâs 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, whoâd taken advantage of Redâs 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 Mangoâs head. âDid you kids, uh⌠want to stay for dinner?â A whole lasagna was probably enough to feed all seven of them. Though heâd hoped to have leftovers for the next few days, Mango supposed he could make the sacrifice. For Purpleâs sake. âWeâre having lasagna.â
Blueâs eyes immediately lit up in interest. âOoh~! Lasagna! Thatâs a recipe I donât have yet!â As if by magic, a pencil and paper appeared in Blueâs hands. âIâve been meaning to try recreating a dish from taste alone. I bet I can identify all the ingredients-â
âThe food can wait!â Unable to contain the excitement heâd 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 stickâs hand to pull them forward. âWe came here because we have big news! Huge news! GIGANTIC news! And youâll never guess what it is!â
Purple squirmed back and forth in the otherâs hold. âUhhâŚâ They leaned away from Greenâs entirely too close face, and Mango took that as his cue to intervene before the kid exploded from embarrassment or something.
âGo on, guess!â Insisted the green stick, his hold on Purple not loosening until Mangoâs 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. âJust get to the point.â Mango insisted for all of their sakes.
The denial didnât do anything to diminish Greenâs 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 didnât know know these kids quite as well as Purple did, but heâd 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 distressâŚ? Combined with the excitement of the other four sticks, Mango could hear the alarm bells getting louder.
Oblivious to their friendâs blatant discomfort, Green blurted out, âWe just found out⌠that Sec has super powers!â
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, âYo, what?!â 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 principleâs office. âYeah, heh. SurpriseâŚâ
âWhoa, thatâs so cool!â Purpleâs 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 Secondâs face, bouncing energetically on their toes as they eagerly questioned, âWhat kind of powers? What can you do?â
âOh, you know, just the typical stuffâŚâ Second trailed off, their eyes focusing on a spot on the ceiling instead of Purpleâs wide, bright expression. âFlying, telekinesis, healing, electricity⌠uh, eye lasersâŚâ
Each item added to the list only caused Purpleâs smile to grow and grow, until a wide grin was stretched across their face. In any other circumstance such a look would cause Mangoâs 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, âYou HAVE to show them off!â
A cacophony of agreements came from the rest of Secondâs 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 Secondâs powers, and that caused a pit of dread to form in Mangoâs stomach. This was a recipe for disaster.
Hurriedly, he tried to speak up, âI donât think-â
Mangoâs attempt to interrupt was completely bowled over by Purple in their excitement. âWhat should we have you do?â They wondered aloud. âMaybe we can set up some targets for you to shoot down?â The other kids seemed eager, nodding along to that idea. âOr you can race me flying with my elytra! Or-!â Purple suddenly gasped, hands covering their mouth as they smiled wider, âOr you can use your powers to clean up our entire kitchen!â
For a brief moment, annoyance trounced Mangoâs anxiety, âPurple, thatâs your chore for the day. You canât just use your friends to do your chores for you.â
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. âPlease, wonât you clean the kitchen? Pretty, pretty please?â
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 Secondâs inner turmoil, each of their friends began pilling into them, begging incessantly.
âCome on, please~!â Red whined, pulling on Secondâs arm.
âIâll make you all the cookies!â Blue promised from their other side, pushing her head into the crook of their neck. âLike, so many cookies!â
âWith that much stuff? Itâll be epic to see if flying all around!â Yellow mused. âI bet with enough practice you could pull off a âWizardâs Apprenticeâ!â Her arms flapped at the thought, âOoh, man! That would be the coolest!â
âYou gotta show Purple what you can do!â Green pleaded, giving Second a sorrowful pout that would put even Purpleâs best acting to shame. âPlease! Please! Please! PLEASE!â
The kid demonstrated an iron will as they shook off their friendâs clutching hands and pleading eyes to put some distance between them. âGuys, I dunnoâŚâ Second kept their eyes away from their friends, focusing instead on a spot on the wall. âIâm still pretty new at this⌠and I donât want to mess anything upâŚâ
Despite their clear reluctance, Secondâs friends kept egging them on, and Mango stepped forward to put a hand on Secondâs shoulder. âI agree.â He stated, giving the kids a glare when they started to protest. âThese powers sound like theyâre 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.â
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. âOn second thought, letâs do it.â
âWhat?!â 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 withâŚ
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 heâd faced previously, Mango tried one more time to talk sense into Purpleâs friends. âYou donât have to do this, you know.â
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 Mangoâs interference. After a moment of silence, Second responded. âYeah, I know. But itâs fine. I can do this.â Second looked down at their own hands, gaze unfocused. âI can do this.â
Secondâs 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 Secondâs body to spread across Mangoâs 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, Secondâs 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 â 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 Secondâs sparking power had turned off the gravity.
In spite of his early complaints, Mango couldnât 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 Yellowâs mumbling as she thought aloud to herself. There was buzzing on Mangoâs 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 Purpleâs 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.
Secondâs power soon brought order to the chaos theyâd made of Mangoâs 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 everyoneâs attention to the sink, where a stream of water began to bend and twist upward to form rings between the layers of dancing cutlery.
âHydrokinesis!â Yellow gasped. âThatâs a new one!â
The scratching sound of pencil meeting paper was only barely audible over Blueâs inquiry, âIs it really hydrokinesis, though?â She scratched her chin, âOr just⌠telekinesis used on water?â
âIs there a difference?â Red asked.
All three of them were immediately hushed by Green, âLet them do their thing.â He scolded roughly. Mango hadnât considered that there was a second in command among the group of friends, but given how everyone immediately shut up at Greenâs 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 Secondâs show. Along with the ring of water, globs of what Mango assumed was soap had joined in the choreography. The tempo and melody of Secondâs 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 Secondâs power crawled across it, and combined with the jade sparks of lightning that flowed freely through the room, it completely transformed Mangoâs kitchen into a much larger, more ominous space. Mangoâs fingers twitched, itching with sudden nerves, and to sooth them he reached around Blue to take one of Purpleâs hands. Though he couldnât see Purpleâs 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, Secondâs 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 Secondâs power.
âAhh!â They cried out, startled by the mistake. Immediately Secondâs 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. âUhh, d-donât worry, I can fix it!â
The change of attitude caught them all off guard, and Mangoâs 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. âHey, dude, itâs okay-â
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. Secondâs 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.
âSec! Stop!â 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 Mangoâs 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. âDude!â Purple called over the noise. At this point the chaos had created a cacophony so loud Mango could barely hear the kid over it. âYou need to calm down! Youâre gonna destroy the entire house at this rate!â
The loud hiss of, âPurple!â 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.
âH-hey!â Blue worked her way in front of the group, hands held out placatingly in front of her. âSecond, try and focus on me, okay? Itâs going to be alright. Iâm going to approach now â slowly.â 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, âIâm going to make my way to you, and youâre going to calm down, and nobodyâs going to get hurt. Weâre going to be fine.â
And, for a brief moment, it seemed like she was right. Secondâs eyes were glued to her approaching form, and the sight of her smile eased the tension from their body.
âLook out!â 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-!
Mangoâs 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 heâd released Purpleâs 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 Goldâs 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, âNo, no, this is okay, I can fix it, itâll all be fine, I can fix it⌠I-I can fix itâŚ!â 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.
âKid, hold up-â 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.
âI can fix it, I can fix it, I can fix itâŚ!â The haphazard promises fell from Secondâs lips along with their labored breaths. Then they clutched their head and screamed, âI CAN FIX IT-!â
An explosion of emerald light knocked everyone back. Mangoâs 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 Secondâs power poke out of the squall before being sucked back in.
Mango barely had a minute to take in the catastrophe that Secondâs show had become before the kidsâ chatter redirected his attention. âOkay, letâs not panic!â Yellow instructed, pushing her glasses up as she picked herself off the ground. âWe can- uh, we got this! If we just ground the lightning-â
âGround it with what?!â Red snapped back, gesturing wildly at the mess in front of them. âSecâs power isnât like normal lightning, that wouldnât work!â
âAnd you have any better ideas?!â Purple demanded. Thankfully for Mangoâs poor heart, the kid stayed down close to the ground, even as they joined in the argument.âWe canât just do nothing!â
Blue joined Yellowâs side quickly, fidgeting with her fingers. âIt-Itâs just because Secâs panicking! We just need to wait for them to calm down, and-â
âAnd what, just leave them like this until then?!â Yellow questioned sharply, causing Blue to flinch back. If Yellow noticed, it didnât show on her face. âI am not going to abandon them! Not after everything, I canât-!â
Everyone seemed to wince in response to Yellowâs outcry, and the following tense silence was quickly filled with a pitiful, mournful wailing from the kitchen. The sound seemed to echo in Mangoâs head, plucking at the strings of his heart painfully. And he barely knew Second; he couldnât imagine how this must feel to the kids, who had known The Second Coming for their entire life.
A hitched breath drew Mangoâs 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. Greenâs 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. âScrew it,â He said, and that was the only warning any of them had before he charged forward. âHang on, Sec! Iâm coming!â
Everyone watched him disappear into the chaos in stunned silence, before Yellow gritted her teeth and shouted, âDonât worry, weâre on our way!â 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, âItâs going to be okay, Second! Weâre on our way!â as she barreled ahead.
Movement at his side jolted Mangoâs 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 Mangoâs lungs in his chest. All air escaped him in one startled gasp. Purpleâs 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.
âNo!â Mango managed to force out, leaping to grasp Purpleâs 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 Mangoâs hold. âWhat are you doing?!â They asked, voice laden with desperation and fear in equal measure, and it only made Mango hold on all the tighter. âWe- I have to get in there! Sec needs us- needs me!â
âI need you!â Mango forced out in a single, painful gasp. âI- I canât lose anotherâŚ! Iâm not going to let you run to your death!â
Though the slip up made Purpleâs expression soften some, they still held firm. âIf we do nothing, then Secâll, like, I donât know, explode or something! Then weâll all die!â Instead of trying to get away, Purple clasped Mangoâs hand with their other, meeting the taller stick's gaze with fire alight in their eyes. âI can do this! I promise, nothing will happen to me!â
Mango glanced down at their intertwined hands, Purpleâs fingers gently rubbing soothing circles into his skin. Subconsciously his breathing began to follow the rhythm of the motions, and the burning fire in Mangoâs chest was extinguished. With a deep breath and one final look into those pleading eyes, Mango relented. âOkay,â He said, but refused to release Purpleâs hands. Instead he pulled the both of them up to a standing position. âThen weâll go together.â
After a serious nod, Purple broke the tension with a playful wink. âTry to keep up, Old Man.â 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 Secondâs 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 Purpleâs hands slipped from Mango, and a near heart attack was mitigated when he looked back to see Purple pulling Red down from where heâd 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.
âWe canât get close!â Red yelled over the rushing tempest. âWe keep getting knocked back by all the stuff flying around!â
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. âThen how are we supposed to get throughâŚ?â
Yellowâs shout, barely audible above the roaring winds, drew Mangoâs 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. âThis isnât working!â He scolded, sounding angrier in his attempt to yell over the hurricane. âWe have to try something else!â
âWell, what else can we do?!â Blue asked tearfully. In lieu of an answer he couldnât give, Green instead took hold of her hand.
The gears in Mangoâs head began to turn. They couldnât 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 wouldnât 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 Mangoâs 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, âI have an idea!â Everyone looked up at him, all of the young sticks suffering various degrees of battery from their attempts to reach Second. âAll five of you, huddle together and move in tandem! If you keep a firm hold of each other and work as a unit, youâll be able to stand against the wind!â
âBut what about all the stuff flying around?!â 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.
âIâll take care of that.â He assured the children as he turned to them, forcing down the anxiety and pressure he felt and forcing up an encouraging grin. âYou all just focus on getting Second out of there.â
Purple swallowed down their nerves before matching Mangoâs smile. âJust be careful, Old Man. Iâm not taking care of you if you throw your back out.â
Snorting, Mango turned away from the kids to focus on his job. âIf youâre my nurse, I think Iâll take my chances with the lightning.â His voice then dropped, turning serious. âNow get moving!â
All of Mangoâs 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. Purpleâs 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 Purpleâs 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.
âJust a little closer!â 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. âJust⌠a littleâŚ!â
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 theyâd be fine from then on. A bone-deep ache made itself known as Mango let himself relax a touch, but he didnât 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 cycloneâs 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 friendsâ lives, the seedling began to sprout, bringing with it a harsh, ashy wind that left a bitter sensation on their skin. The photographâs 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 Secondâs body. With each forced beat the ache inside of them grew and spread. They were dying, Secondâs 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⌠faultâŚ
This wasnât 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 Greenâs body, or violet bruises ringing on their fists as they looked down at Redâs 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 theyâd lose control, knew that this power would poison what theyâd built, but theyâd made the mistake of giving in, and now they were going to die.
They were going⌠to dieâŚ
All alone⌠after ruining everythingâŚ
They⌠they were⌠going toâŚ
âSec!â 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 Secondâs 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 Secondâs shining emerald gaze. âIâm here! Iâve got you!â
Stunned, Second couldnât even bring themselves to return the embrace before another pair of arms forcibly wrapped around them. âDonât worry, Sec!â Red assured through a large, vibrant grin. âItâs just a little thunder, nothing we canât handle!â
Another jolt to their side signaled Yellowâs entrance, squeezing them so hard that rough burning churning within them was squeezed out, to be replaced a soft, bittersweet pressure. âTold ya, didnât I?â Yellow asked, never once letting her hold loosen. âIâm not letting anything tear us apart.â
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. âI know you must feel so scared right now,â She consoled, her voice feather-light on their skin, âBut youâre not alone â everyoneâs here! Weâre all here with you!â
Last but not least, Purple forced themselves into the hug by worming their way between the others to snake their arms around Secondâs middle. âPfft, if youâre trying to get rid of me,â They scolded jokingly, âItâs gonna be a lot harder than that, Sec.â
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 Secondâs entire body, forcing out the various aches from all over. Secondâs shoulders relaxed as they took in a deep breath. Oxygen hit their lungs for the first time since the picture broke. Secondâs 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, theyâd 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 couldnât 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,
Itâs 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 werenât 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 Secondâs attention was hyper-focused on the two upset figures, to the point where everything beyond them and the arms around Secondâs waist disappeared from their mind. All they wanted was to give the two strangers a little taste of the comfort that everyoneâs 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 oneâs 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 moreâŚ
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 heâd 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 familyâs 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 Greenâs 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 Greenâs growing headache.
Green forced down a swallow as he took in the wreckage. The memory of Secâs 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 theyâd all been having fun, and Second had finally begun to relax. Heâd 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 Purpleâs 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. Yellowâs one leg was splayed out in front of them, and when Red made contact with her ankle she winced. Green couldnât 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 Yellowâs care to Red, scanning across the room until he found Blue, also mostly unharmed, hovering anxiously over Secondâs body with her hand on their neck.
The sight of his motionless friend caused Greenâs breath to catch in his throat. No⌠were they⌠did he cause his best friend toâŚ?
Mere moments later Blueâs 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 Greenâs 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 hadnât moved Green had initially overlooked them, but following Mangoâs 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. Mangoâs 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 whoâd almost killed them all than Purpleâs 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 Mangoâs distress.
âItâs finally happened!â Mango declared between laughs, his eyes completely glazing over with a sheen of distress. âIâve finally gone insane!â
Purple, eyes wide, stepped in front of Mango with their arms stretched out in an attempt to placate him. âNo, no!â They assured him, words rushed in their panic. âYouâre not crazy, I promise, I see them too! P-please stop laughing-!â
â-Iâm fine! Iâm not the one who, exploded, you need to go help Blue-!â
Green winced, struggling to stay focused as everyone elseâs voices began to pick up volume, fighting each other for his attention.
âOkay, câmon, wake up-!â
âYou canât walk on that, are you nuts-!â
The voices pounded in Greenâs ears to the rhythm of his racing heart.
âH-hey, come on, take some deep breaths-!â
âSeriously, let go-!â
âPlease, Sec, please-!â
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.
âI- This isnât real. Thereâs no way this is real, this has to be-!â
âC-come on, Old Man, focus-!â
âYellow, will stop trying to-!â
âGet off of me-!â
âCome on, Blue, think-!â
âWill you all just SHUT UP?!â 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. âYellow, let Red help you to the living room.â
âIâm fine-!â The injured stick tried to object.
Green immediately shut that down. âNo, youâre not. If you were, you would have walked away from Red by now.â Green sighed. âLook, I donât want to be mean, but if you try to walk on that ankle youâre going to make it worse. And the last thing we need right now is for things to get worse. Itâll only take a few moments for Red to help you walk to the armchair. Let him do that, and we wonât have to worry anymore, alright?â
Any protests died on Yellowâs lips as she absorbed Greenâs 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 Redâs shoulders. The two began to stand in order to limp out of the room, and Green shifted his focus.
Mangoâs breakdown had been halted by Greenâs 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 Secondâs 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 heâd 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 Greenâs brain, but there were more important things to focus on at the moment.
âOnce Redâs done helping Yellow,â 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. âHeâll help you guys get these two somewhere more comfortable. Should we put them in Mangoâs room?â
A moment of silence fell over the two. Purple suddenly couldnât meet Greenâs eye, glancing awkwardly to the side, while Mango seemed to take a moment to process the question. Eventually, the old man answered, âWe can put them in Goldâs room. Itâs a little dusty, but it should be fine, I guess.â
Green cocked a brow at the taller stick. âWait, Goldâs roomâŚ?â That answered some of Greenâs questions and raised so many more, but for the moment Green restricted himself to the most important one. âThere are only two bedrooms in this house. Where does Purple sleep?â
âI gave them my old room,â Mango answered without hesitation. Purple seemed to flinch at the confession, something like shame crossing their face. âThese days Iâm usually not sleeping through the whole night anyways, so Iâm good with just the couch.â
Well, at least Purple had a real bedroom. Still, something about this revelation left a sour taste in Greenâs 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 Redâs fast movements caused his head to spin.
âUh, Red and I can handle, um, the old man- the other version of you, I mean.â Purple muttered, stumbling over their words. âYou can take Gold- i-if youâre okay with that, that is.â
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, Mangoâs breath hitched. His fingers twitched as he approached the two with heavy, slow steps. Gingerly he pulled back his other selfâs arm to expose Gold, who stirred slightly but did not awaken. Mangoâs 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 Mangoâs 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. âUm, sorry.â Red scratched his head, a little awkward in the face of current tensions. âBut, err, I donât know where the bedrooms are, so I was thinking you could take the feet and direct us, and Iâll grab the head. You good with that?â
âUh, yeah, sure.â 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 couldnât slow down now. Not when he hadnât even dealt with the worst of the damage heâd caused yet.
Taking only a moment for a calming breath, Green slowly waltzed over to Blue. She held Secondâs 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. âHow are they?â He asked instead.
âWell, I canât find any serious injuries,â Blue updated as she continued to stroke the fluffy mess of bedhead, âBut they may have internal injuries? Itâs hard to tell- Iâm equipped to deal with minor wounds and Minecraft ailments. Not⌠this.â
âWouldnât their healing powers take care of that?â Green asked, kneeling down next to Blue to take their dear friendâs hand in his own. It was cold and clammy against Greenâs 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. âIt hasnât kicked in yet. Maybe theyâre too tired to do it? Or maybe itâs a good sign!â Blue forced herself to perk up at the thought. âEvery time Secondâs used their healing powers itâs because someone got seriously hurt. Maybe theyâre not hurt bad enough for it to activate on its own.â
âMaybe,â Green agreed, even though that didnât really sound right to him. Since Sec had become aware of their powers, theyâd shown the greatest connection to their healing. It was one of the strongest abilities. âStill, I donât think theyâd be too comfortable sleeping on the floor. Is it safe to move them?â
âOh! Uh,â Blue thought for a moment, her eyes scanning over Sec uneasily. Moments passed into minutes before she answered, âI- I think so. As long as weâre careful.â
Green nodded, already standing to take hold of Secondâs legs. âOkay, Iâll walk backwards with their legs, you take their head.â 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 Mangoâs 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 Mangoâs couch and slowly, gently, set them down. Second didnât so much as stir during the transfer, which only made Green all the more worried. What he wouldnât give to have his best friend suddenly sit up and throw a pillow at him for disturbing their restâŚ
For now, Green once again took hold of Secondâs hand and watched their drained, pale face as they slept. He didnât know where heâd 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 theyâd been allowed to enter Goldâs 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 Purpleâs 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 wasnât like they hadnât 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 bedâs 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.
âUhâŚâ Redâs awkward voice reached Purpleâs ear, and they turned to look at the stronger stick as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. The old man didnât seem to hear him. âSo, Iâm gonna go, uh, check on the others⌠yeah⌠weâll be in the living room if you need us⌠uh, sorry again about your kitchen.â
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 houseâs 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. âHey,â They addressed softly. Mango didnât so much as twitch at their touch. âAre you feeling okay?â
It took a moment for Mango to respond. âSweetheart, Iâm feeling a lot of things right now,â He droned, not taking his eyes off of the two sticks curled up on the bed, âand none of them are okay.â
Purple winced. Sweetheart only tended to come out when one of them was feeling particularly bad. Usually Purple themselves. Still, they pressed onward, âYeah, thatâs fair,â They agreed. Then, with a little hesitation, they asked, âHow⌠how do you think Second⌠brought them here?â
Mango sighed, bring his hand up to hold his forehead. âI dunno. Cloning, maybe? They have art powers or something, right?â 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. âIâm not exactly in a state to think too hard about that.â
Okay, fair. Purple tried to think of something else â anything else â that they could do in order to make Mango feel better. After fumbling over their words for a moment, they eventually asked, âIs there anything I can do to help?â
âI thinkâŚâ Mangoâs breath hitched. âI think I just some time alone, kiddo.â
Something deep inside Purple shattered at the request. Still, they nodded obediently. âOkay, Iâll go check on the others, then. Weâll⌠be in the living room.â
Purple knew if they turned back to look at Mango, whatever theyâd 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 Purpleâs 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 Secondâs 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, âHowâs everyone doing?â
âOkay,â Green murmured, briefly looking up to meet purpleâs gaze.
âIâm good!â Red assured, plastering on a huge smile that didnât quite meet his eyes.
âDonât worry, Iâm fine.â Blue assured gently, tapping her fingers on Secondâs arm as she checked their pulse again.
âPeachy,â Yellow spat sarcastically, glaring at the ground.
Then, after a pregnant pause, all four turned towards Secondâs unresponsive form. The tension returned tenfold.
Red finally spoke up, cutting off the pressure as he smiled awkwardly at the group, âYou know, if Sec were awake, theyâd probably say something like, âAt least they let me sleep in for onceâ.â The turn of phrase was made in a terrible impression of Secondâs voice, followed by a nervous laugh that quickly petered out, âHehe, hehe, heâŚâ
More silence.
âTheyâll be okay⌠right?â Blue asked softly.
âOf course they will!â Cut off Green, looking mildly insulted at even the suggestion that they wouldnât be. âTheyâre Sec! Theyâre always okay!â
Yellowâs 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. âYeah,â She agreed absently, though she sounded like her mind was somewhere far, far away. âTheyâre always okayâŚâ
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, Purpleâs eyes scanned over the group, and soon came to rest on Yellowâs ankle. Though mildly swollen, it didnât look broken, so Purple hazard a guess that it only needed rest and icing. They piped up, âUm, why donât I get you some ice, Yellow?â 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. âOh my gosh, Yellow, I am so sorry! I didnât even think about that- I was so focused on Second that I forgot- I canât believe I-!â
âHey, hey,â Yellow consoled, sitting up straight for the first time, âItâs alright. We all know the rules: The one whoâs hurt worst gets priority treatment. And itâs just a little sprain, itâs not like itâs broken or anything.â
âBut stillâŚâ Blue kept her eyes trained on Yellowâs 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: âPersonally, I blame Green.â
âWhat?â Green snapped back, looking vaguely offended by the accusation.
âYou have two working legs,â He explained in a matter-of-fact manner, âYou couldâve gotten up up at any time to take care of Yellow, but noooâŚâ
Purple snickered openly at the look on Greenâs face, which only got louder when he turned his glare at them. Yellow, snorting, chimed in, âYeah, Green, arenât you supposed to be the responsible one?â
âOh, we all know thereâs no âresponsibleâ one!â 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 Mangoâs 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, theyâd 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 areaâŚ? 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 theyâd even get a bit of a payout from the company that made the microwave.
Nodding in satisfaction, Purple paused in front of the fridge. Theyâd 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 Purpleâs 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.
â-and so I said, âThatâs positively blue-tiful!ââ Red recited, and Yellow groaned lightly while Green and Blue cracked up. Somehow Purple got the feeling that they were laughing more at Yellowâs 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. âThanks,â Yellow grumbled with a pout. She winced as the ice was set on her swollen ankle. âYou got anything for the headache Redâs puns are causing?â
âCome on, Redâs just trying to make you feel better.â Purple scolded playfully, âIt isnât very ice of you complain.â
They almost cracked at the complete and total betrayal that befell Yellowâs face. âPurple,â She gasped in horror, âI trusted you.â Green, Blue, and Red all howled with laughter, Red even doubling over and clutching his side.
âThat was your first mistake,â 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. âI see youâre all doing well,â 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 Purpleâs 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 Secondâs side, taking a look at them himself. âHow bad is it?â He asked.
âN-not that bad⌠no serious wounds or anything, I think theyâre just drained,â Blue filled him in. She again checked Secondâs pulse.
Mango hummed aloud, âStill, Iâd rather be safe than sorry. We should get them to a hospital or something.â
âA hospital?â Green questioned, suddenly looking uneasy. It quickly spread to Blue and Red.
âUm,â Yellow interrupted, âLook, 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.â
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 didnât look quite ready to let this go. Knowing how the old man worried and figuring that it wouldnât 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 Yellowâs side to place a comforting hand on Mangoâs arm, redirecting his attention back to them.
âI donât think you have anything to worry about,â They confirmed, âSecâs got super healing powers, so theyâll be able to patch everyone up once theyâre rested up.â
Still Mango looked unconvinced. "I donât knowâŚâ
âTrust me,â Purple pleaded, and they were pleased to see a little crack in the old manâs armour.
After a moment of hemming and hawing, he sighed, âAlright, fine, for now,â Mango agreed. The others slumped in clear relief at his resignation, âBut if theyâre not up by sundown, weâre taking them to the nearest doctor.â
âThey will be,â Green stated with unyielding confidence.
Mango nodded, then glanced over at Yellow. âYour ankle isnât broken?â He asked.
âSprained,â She confirmed, âJust need to ice it and keep it elevated. Iâll be fine.â
Satisfied with that, Mango nodded affirmatively. He looked a little more at ease than he had been back in the kitchen. âThat just leaves one more. Green,â Said stick flinched at being called out, âHold still for a moment. You hit your head pretty hard back there. I want to make sure youâre not concussed.â
Purple winced. Come to think of it, they had heard a pretty hard thump after Second had exploded. Had that been Greenâs head hitting the wall? There had been so much going on theyâd barely taken note of it.
Nearby, Purple heard Blue whisper under her breath, âI didnât even noticeâŚâ They didnât 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, âI was nauseous and dizzy at first,â The musical stick explained, âBut after I sat down and relaxed a little it went away. Now I just have a raging migraine.â
âHmm,â Mango scratched his chin, âWell, try to take it easy, just to be safe. Head injuries are no joke. Iâll ask you again later, but so far you seem fine.â
Some relief returned to the room at Mangoâs 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 â 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 â 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 âstopâ motion kept them in place.
Carefully maneuvering down beneath them, The Second Coming waltzed through the timeline of the kittenâs 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 theyâd 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 selfâs presence. In response the version of her in Secondâs 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 Comingâs 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 frameâŚ
To the kittensâŚ
To the key frameâŚ
To the kittensâŚ
And the Second Coming understood.
--------------------
Second shot up from their resting position, crying out, âHoly heck I broke space time-!â
Just as theyâd 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.
âAhâŚâ 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. âOw, ow, owâŚâ
âEasy, Sec!â 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. âTake slow, deep breaths⌠there you go, youâre almost thereâŚâ
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 Blueâs 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 Redâs face appeared in her place. âSec! Oh man dude, you had us so worried!â Out of the corner of their eye, Second could see Purple nod in agreement.
âHey, give them some space!â 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 Mangoâs 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, theyâd hurt the people they cared about most. Again.
âAre you alright?â Mangoâs voice, unusually kind, cut through the self-loathing that was starting to dominate Secondâs thoughts. He towered over Blue as he gazed down at them. âI 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.â
âHospitalâŚ?â Second repeated, swallowing down a fresh lump of nerves. A hospital meant doctors â scientists, men in coats, isolated in tiny space, donât move, itâs for your own good⌠âN-no, Iâm okay. Iâll heal myself once Iâve got a little more energy.â
âYouâre sure?â Asked Mango. When Second made a small sound of affirmation, he relented, albeit a little reluctantly. âAlright, Iâll let it go for now⌠but Iâd like to change the topic, if you donât mind.â Mango took a spot on the couch, careful not to touch Second in any way. âWhat did you mean when you said you âbroke space timeâ?â
There was a glint in Mangoâs eyes that brought an entirely new sense of discomfort to Second, but they ignored it and did their best to explain, âItâs like I said,â Their throat was already beginning to ache from just this amount of talking, but it was easy enough for Second to ignore, âI- 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-â Judging from the look on Mangoâs face, Second guessed that they were getting a little off-topic and tried to steer themselves back on track, âEr, anyway, the key frame created a portal back to the moment it was created and- and basically made a âsplitâ, to bring them back here.â
âA split?â Yellow asked, stroking her chin curiously. âSo, does that mean theyâre copies?â
Second shook their head instinctively, then winced at the resulting ache. âNot quite⌠itâs more like, I split the timeline? Since everyoneâs memories of Purple and Mango are in tact and history clearly didnât change, itâs likely I created an alternate worldline where those two sticks mysteriously vanished one day. You know, because I pulled them into the future.â
âUmâŚâ Red looked completely lost, âOkay, can you explain that again, but in a way that makes sense?â
Thank goodness Yellow took point, because Secondâs 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, âItâs basically just alternate universes.â She stated smoothly. âLike, instead of the timeline exploding or all of our memories altering to account for Mango mysteriously being brought into the future, instead thereâs another world entirely identical to this one, except that Mango and that other stick donât exist there, because theyâre here.â
âIâm still confused,â Red said.
âFor now, just know that these are past versions of Mango and Gold Ochre.â Purple summarized, âBut, man⌠thatâs incredible. We knew you were strong, dude, butâŚâ
Every pair of eyes was on Second, pinning them with a sudden pressure on their chest. More little murmurs broke out between Secondâs friends, whispered words that they couldnât quite make out, and Second forced their eyes shut. Unable to hear their friendsâ conversations, Secondâs 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 couldnât they just go back to being normal?
âAll that aside,â 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, âI think weâve waited long enough, so I wanna know. Who the heck is Gold?â
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 didnât make contact before withdrawing and instead offering gentle reassurances. âItâs okay. I can explain if you-â
âSheâs my kid,â Mango finally revealed. Everything went quiet as the news echoed in their thoughts. âHe⌠died a few months before I met Purple.â Mangoâs eyes suddenly darted up, meeting Secondâs head on. âAnd you brought her back.â
An awkward feeling settled over Second, as though they were taking credit for something they didnât do. âI hadnât exactly planned that,â They reminded him, âI just wanted to fix what I broke.â
âFix whatâs brokenâŚâ Mango echoed, then huffed out a gentle laugh, âWell, you certainly fixed something. I donât think I can ever repay this.â Some sort of weight fell off of Mangoâs shoulders, and he gratefully smiled down at them. The weight of his appreciation sat heavy on their chest. It didnât feel like theyâd done anything but mess things up, and yet⌠theyâd saved a life? The duality of their feelings clashed within Second, leaving them unable to vocalize their thoughts. Oblivious, Mango continued on, âNow itâs just a matter of⌠explaining this whole mess to them,â He visibly winced, âThatâs gonna be ugly.â
Second, sensing the discord in his tone, immediately volunteered. âI can do it,â They proclaimed, âIâm the one who brought them here, so it only makes senseâŚâ
âAppreciate the thought, kid,â Despite his words, the disapproval was clear through Mangoâs tone, âbut this is kind of a family matter. I wouldnât feel right about having you do my job. Besides,â He tossed a side eye to Red, Blue, and Green, all of whom, Second noted uneasily, were watching them with very intense expressions, âI think if you try to get up off that couch, your friends are going to duct tape you to it.â
Unable to deny that, Second agreed, âOkay, fair enough,â Then they chuckled, âHeh, at least theyâre letting me sleep for once.â
For some reason, Red burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
Meanwhile Purple stood up, eagerly rushing to Mangoâs side. âIâll come help!â They offered.
âThatâs not a good idea either,â Mango told them, and if he noticed how their entire form seemed to slump, he didnât comment on it, âIf I know myself as well as I think I do, then I know exactly how my past self will react to the news that Goldâs dead, andâŚâ A haunted shadow fell over the old manâs eyes, âI donât think you need to see that side of me again. In the meantime, hold down the fort here. Iâm officially putting you in charge.â
âWait, whyâs Purple in charge?â Yellow complained.
Mango side-eyed the lot of them, as though they were the ones whoâd almost blown up an entire video game world, âBecause theyâre the only ones Iâm certain wonât try and get themselves killed the moment Iâve left.â 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 Purpleâs, though Mango didnât 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. âSo, what, we just wait around for them to wake up?â
Purple shrugged. âI guess-â They were cut off by a loud roar, fierce and angry like a lion, and Purpleâs face started glow bright pink.
Yellow couldnât help but poke fun at the suffering stick, âAw, is someone a little hungy~?â She cooed.
âAgh, will you shut up?!â Snapped the mess of a stick, âI didnât exactly get the change to eat after you guys showed up. We did make a lasagna, butâŚâ Purpleâs voice trailed off, and without further explanation they disappeared.
Oh yeah. In addition to all the other problems theyâd caused, Second had ruined Purple and Mangoâs dinner. It wasnât 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.
âUhhâŚâ Second couldnât tear their eyes off of the abomination. âWhoops.â
Red twisted away from the cursed creation, staring at it as though expecting it to attack. Green and Blue each approached to investigate themselves. Greenâs nose wrinkled as he got closer. Uneasy silence covered the room as they all wondered just what Secondâs power had done to the poor thing.
Then, at last, Blue shrugged and pulled a knife and fork out of nowhere. âMeh, Iâll still eat it.â
Everyoneâs horrified expressions shifted from the monstrous creation to the monstrous stick. Green looked vaguely ill. âDude,â He stared in disbelief, âThat thingâs like, three different kinds of radioactive.â
âIâve put worse things in my mouth.â
--------------------
Soft sunlight poured through the window, gently caressing Mangoâs face with unseasonable warmth. His eyes fluttered open, his blurred vision gradually clearing to reveal the familiar sight of his childâs bedroom ceiling. Spending nights here wasnât an uncommon occurrence, especially when Gold was younger and afraid of what might be hiding in the roomâs darkest corners, but what bugged Mango were the holes in his memory. He and Gold had just returned from a tournament, that he recalled. Theyâd 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, Mangoâs 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 â 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.
âGold?â 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 Mangoâs attempts to awaken her. âFive more minuteeesâŚâ She whined, pulling her pillow around her ears in an adorable fluff sandwich.
Though he couldnât shake the nerves wracking his entire body, Mango found himself smiling at the adorable sight. âCâmon, honey, get up,â 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 sheâd 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, âMm, dad?â He asked, his voice shifting in a subtle way, âWhen did we go to bedâŚ?â
âStill putting that together, hun,â 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 Mangoâs head to a grinding halt. Instinct had him throwing an arm up to push Gold behind him, only barely registering the kidâs 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 hadnât 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 didnât turn him off as much as it would other sticks, it was certainly startling to see.
âNice to see youâre both awake,â He commented coolly, not yet addressing the blatant elephant in the room. His voice was like a recording of Mangoâs own, altered mildly to add some huskiness.
âWait, dad? But youâre⌠and youâŚ?â Goldâs head spun back and forth as he looked between his father and his fatherâs perfect doppelganger. The poor dear seemed so lost. Finally, he pulled his head over Mangoâs still extended arm to whisper a little too loudly, âDad, do you have a secret twin you never told me about?â
Before Mango could respond, Mango- the other Mango, ah heck, that was gonna get confusing â answered in his place. âNot exactly, honey. Itâs a bit more complicated than that, butâŚâ He stepped a little closer, and smiled a tiny, broken smile, âItâs so good to see you.â
A sinking weight began to form in Mangoâs 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.
âI understand why you might be confused. Iâll explain everything in a moment, but Iâd like to begin by re-introducing myself.â To that end, his other self sauntered across the floor with surprising confidence for someone who was clearly such a mess, grabbing Goldâs nearby desk chair and spinning it around to sit backwards in it, in exactly the same way heâd always scolded Gold for, and placed some cheap looking prop crown atop his messy mane. âYou may call me âKingâ. At least for now, so people can tell us apart.â
Gold blinked dumbly at his fatherâs doppelganger for a moment, then a bright, wide grin stretched across his face, âWhoa!â He cried out, pure excitement dancing in his eyes, âYou look so cool!â
âYou look ridiculous,â Mango informed him matter-of-factly.
âI know,â King stated, dramatically tossing his hair back with one hand. He didnât specify who he was agreeing with, âBut to get back to the subject at handâŚâ For a moment this King guy hesitated, slumping and folding his hands in his lap before eventually proceeding, âThereâs no real way to ease you into it, so Iâm just going to come out and say it: Youâre in the future. About two years in the future.â
Mango could feel his eyes widen. Goldâs fingers dug into his arm as he gasped, âThe futureâŚ?â
âIndeed,â Confirmed King, and his eyes crinkled in amusement.
This new knowledge had Mango looking over their surroundings with fresh eyes. Something about Goldâs 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 Goldâs 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.
Kingâs broken smile as he looked upon Gold came back to mind, and the knot in Mangoâs gut tightened.
âWhoa, thatâs- thatâs crazy!â Gold pushed past Mangoâs arms to crawl closer to King, totally enraptured by the infinite possibilities the future might bright. âDo you call yourself King because you rule the world? Has there been some kind of crazy apocalypse and youâre leading the survivors? Has the Internet ended!?â
Before Gold could take his hyperactive, overly imaginative questioning any further, Mango took the reigns and pulled Gold back by his collar, âEasy, Hon,â Mango scolded lightly, âRemember, itâs only been about two years. I donât think the world wouldâve ended in that time.â Much less Mango becoming some sort of monarch, but that thought was so ridiculous it didnât need to be said. What idiot would make Mango a king?
King stood surprisingly rigidly, looking⌠too uncomfortable at questions he shouldâve very well expected from his kid, âA lot can happen in two years.â He informed them both without any further elaboration.
âStill!â Gold pumped his arms up in excitement, his sunny smile shining so bright that even dull, downtrodden King seemed to lighten up, âYouâve gotta have so many crazy stories! Like that big fair coming up this summer,â That made King visibly flinch, raising so many more alarm bells in Mangoâs head, âor-!â Gold gasped, âThe next tournament! You gotta tell me how Iâll do! Do I win?! Did I screw it up?! How many people did I beat?!â
The look on Kingâs face was visibly pained, and the weight in Mangoâs stomach became a black hole. It sucked in everything â his feelings, his attention, his damned air â as a terrible puzzle began to put itself together in his head. The dust on everything. The longing in Kingâs eyes. The exhaustion that encumbered every inch of his form.
No. No, Iâm just imagining things. Thereâs no way-
A sigh, and King sunk in on himself, looking every bit like a monarch burdened with the weight of the world. âThere are⌠some things you need to know. Donât get up, this is going to be a long storyâŚâ
--------------------
Of all the things Purple had thought theyâd be doing with tonightâs dinner, playing some odd combination of keep away and football was not what they expected.
The ball, also known as the âradioactive lasagna abominationâ, was held high above Purpleâs head as Blue stretched herself to try and steal it from them. It was all in good fun; Blue wasnât 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 Blueâs 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 wasnât 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 theyâd 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 momentâs hesitation they got into form and began to spin, building up momentum, all the while aware of Blueâs 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 Mangoâs 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 â the thing had flown roughly thirty meters once it exited the house, landing food side down in one of the neighborâs 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 neighborâs front lawn.
Silence reigned for a heavy second. Then Blue made a sound like a small âmeepâ, her hands flying up to stroke her jaw, as if verifying that it was indeed still in tact.
â...And this is why we donât like it when you put random things you find on the ground in your mouth.â 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, âYeah, Iâm gonna go try and get that pan back before someone notices⌠Sorry, PurpleâŚâ
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 â 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 Greenâs, he seemed to at least be beginning to understand what they were talking about.
âSo a âfixed timelineâ means that nothing you can do will altar the past and change the future, even if you tried to directly?â Red asked.
Yellow nodded, seemingly satisfied with how Redâs slap-dash time travel education was coming along, âExactly. 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 thereâs no changing fate,â She hummed, stroking her chin, âThatâs 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.â
Purpleâs 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. âHey, hi. Maybe donât say that in front of the Old Man? Like, ever?â Without giving her a chance to respond, Purple continued, âI think heâs had enough mental breakdowns for one day.â
âNghâŚâ 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 couldnât pull themselves up into a sitting position, âThe more I think about this, the more I feel like I should be in there with him. I mean, Iâm the one who brought them here, you know?â
âUh-huh,â 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, âHe doesnât even know about string theory, or multiple worldlines, or- or the risks of tearing a hole in space-time? Like, what if thereâs some sort of backlash from using that much energy at once?â Secondâs face grew more and more tense as their rambles continued, âOr what if thereâs actually still a microscopic black-hole in the kitchen, and it could tear open and swallow everything at any time?! Or-or-â Seconds eyes seemed to lose focus as they gazed up at nothingness. Their voice got hoarser, their breathing harder, their speaking faster, âW-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 thereâs nothing left but the cold, endless void-?!â
âWhoa there, buddy, reel it back a little bit,â Red was the first to break free of the stunned stupor Secondâs stream of madness caused, but once he did he moved to Secondâs side to place his hands on their shoulders. Judging by how Second didnât so much as twitch at the contact, his touch must have been unusually gentle, âYouâre doing the thing again.â
Secondâs eyes were bulging out of their face, but in a strange way their confusion seemed to ground them, forcing Second to focus on Red, âW-what thing?â
âYou know, the thing,â Red leaned over Second to make sure they could see him as he continued, âThat 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,â A grin fit for a clown spread wide across Redâs face as he described this phenomenon, âYou know, that thing?â
Whatever the intention of Redâs comment, it at least got Second to calm down, even if it was only by making them more annoyed than worried, âI do not do that,â They insisted.
Greenâs snickering laugh only increased the level of petty pout that Second was putting on, âYou totally do, dude!â
âMajority rules,â Yellow added, smugly pushing her glasses up her nose.
In desperation, Second tilted their head towards Purple, âI donât do that, right Purple?â
âI may not be a quantum physicist like you and Yellow,â The violet stick crossed their arms and leaned back, âbut I am not stupid enough to get in the middle of this.â
Howling laughter erupted from the other three sticks, and Second sighed melodramatically, head slumping back on the couch, âI hate you all,â They declared in a weary sigh.
âAw,â Red cooed, moving his hands to cautiously squish secondâs face, âIs da wittle cwybaby feewing gwumpy?â
Secondâs face lit up in a bright green blush, âWhat did I do to deserve this?â
Purple felt lighter as they laughed along with everyone. They hadnât realized just how rigidly theyâd 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 Secondâs protective attachment, or Greenâs 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 Purpleâs 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, âYou son of a bitch!â, 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. âStay down, ya masochist!â He scolded, âWe got this! Come on, guys!â
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 Mangoâs Purpleâs door to reach Goldâs, 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. Purpleâs crown, once proudly displayed in the living room along with one of Goldâs trophies, had been knocked to the ground in the middle of the chaos.
Purpleâs breath hitched.
âD-dad, please-!â Gold was crying, visible tears running down his face. Her entire body was shaking, âPlease, c-calm down!â
âHow could you?!â Younger Mango seemed deaf to everything, even his own child, at that moment, âHow could you let this happen?!â
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 Mangoâs arm. The sudden touch had him turning his tearful, angry glare at Purple. Ice spread through Purpleâs veins as their eyes made contact, freezing them in place for the entire half-second it took for Mangoâs 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 Purpleâs ears, ringing heavily with each throb of pain, You need to fight, Purple! I canât protect you forever, Purple-!
âPurple!â
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 manâs voice when he called out again, âPurple! Are you alright?!â
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, âPfft, Iâm fine. Iâve taken hits twice that hard when I was half this size.â
Mango retreated a little at Purpleâs words, no longer bordering on the edge of hysteria but still looking very uncomfortable, âI know youâre trying to make me feel better, but thatâs actually doing the opposite.â
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 Purpleâs 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 Purpleâs vision before separating. Red lazily jogged along the outer edges of the room while Green approached the younger Mango and grabbed his arm roughly, âWell, since you two are clearly going to behave like children,â Green scolded as he dragged Young Mango over to Old Mango, only to do the same to him, âThen weâre going to have to treat you like children. Red!â
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 Goldâs 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.
âHey!â 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, âLet us out of here, you damned brats!â The pounding of their fists against it matched the pounding of Purpleâs 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, âNope~! Naughty adults have to be punished in the time out zone~!â
âListen, you little-!â
âDonât bother,â A more tired version of the same voice reasoned with the angry one, âThey wonât listen to you anyways.â
Maybe it was how calm the Mango heâd 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, âCâmon, Old Man,â They teased, hearing a bristling repetition of the nickname from who they were sure was the younger of the two, âYou know you canât really come out of the closet until you truly accept yourself.â
Who the heavy sigh that followed came from didnât even need clarification, nor did the mumbling of, âPurple, I swear to Turing-â
As Green and Red went over the security on the door to be sure the two fighting adults couldnât 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 wasnât 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, âHey, how are you doing?â
Gold jumped a little at suddenly being addressed, anxiously twiddling his fingers as he answered, âUh, fine, Iâm fine, Iâm⌠sorry, I shouldâve done something to stop them, or help, but-â
âI think we can excuse you for being a little⌠out of it today,â Consoled Purple. They felt like they should do comfort them â rub the kidâs shoulder, hug her, something â but the full weight of the situation kept them standing awkwardly still. Eventually, Purple managed to break the silence, âIâm Purple, by the way. I usually go by they/them.â
They held out their hand, and after a moment of silent staring Gold took it, âUh, Gold. Iâm- Iâm a guy, at least for now. Thatâll probably change, but Iâll let you know when it does.â Despite his clear discomfort, Gold forced a familiar smile onto his face. The family resemblance between father and son was so strong it wouldâve been impossible not to see the Old Man in Gold.
âThanks!â Red chimed in, sliding up to them from the side, âIâm Red, and thatâs Green. Weâre guys too! Mostly!â
Green rolled his eyes as he sauntered up behind Red. âChill out, dude. Câmon, we should leave Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dork to their suffering and introduce Gold to the others.â
âOthers? There are more of you guys?â Gold asked, too stunned to protest as Red and Green practically pushed him out of the room, âD-did my dad start an orphanage or something after I died?â
Purple couldnât hold back their snorting laughter, âNah, Iâm the only one who lives here. Everyone else is just freeloading until further notice.â
---------------------
SO. Today hadnât been going exactly like Gold planned.
He thought heâd 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 â literal years â into the future, where Gold was dead and his dad looked halfway to it. Theyâd 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.
âBlueâs not back?â Green asked as they all entered and wait, this wasnât all of them???
One of them, a yellow stick with glasses, shook their head, âProbably still stealthing her way back. Iâm sure sheâll-â
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 itâd been two years-), and a bright blue stick with a cheeky grin and one of dadâs new two year old casserole dishes held over her head triumphantly. âBehold! I have retrieved the evidence!â She looked around the room, stopped her gaze at Gold, and blinked owlishly for a long moment, âUh, I feel like I missed something.â
Green openly snorted, âA few things.â 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 stickâs 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 wasnât quite sure what to make of Purple; theyâd been so nice, even after Goldâs dad straight up punched them in the face. A part of Gold felt like they were taking advantage of Purpleâs hospitality after what dad had done, but an even bigger part was grateful for something â anything â to cling on to in the middle of this insanity.
âYeah, sorry âbout the mess,â Purple gestured vaguely to the ruined room, shrugging, âAs it turns out, time travel has some wicked side effects. Including literally exploding.â
The stick on the couch, who Gold had assumed was asleep (or maybe in a coma), mumbled an exhausted, âSorryâŚâ before rolling a little to better face the others.
âAh, right, let me introduce everyone!â 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, âFirstly, presenting the perilous potion pilferer, the gluttonous god of the grill, the mighty Miss Blue!â The blue stick had seated herself on the arm part of Dadâs armchair, snickering at Purpleâs introduction, âSitting next to her, measuring up at a whopping 1500 grams of brains and 50 grams of muscles-â
âHey,â 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.
â-Her sassiness, the Unyielding Miss Yellow!â Purple spun around the armchair to stand between it and the couch, âNow, youâve already been introduced to the Wrathful Red,â Purple presented Red who, despite his title, was grinning like heâd just won the lottery as he posed, âAnd Green the Guileless!â Green rolled his eyes playfully, âBut be prepared, for our last friend is certainly not our least. They are the worldâs deadliest mom friend, a hot-headed herald of hibernationâŚâ Purple presented the stick on the couch with jazz hands, âThe Second Coming~!â
The others let out a round of whoops and hollers that didnât seem particularly appreciated by this Second Coming character, who waved everyone off with a grumpy frown. âYou can just call me Second,â They informed Gold in a mumble. While they werenât 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, âSecondâs the one who brought you here with their super powers. It kinda drained them.â
Goldâs mouth was open before he could even fully take in the information, âOh, so thatâs why they look like a drowned cat.â
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, âGee, thanks.â
Waving his hands frantically, Gold immediately tried to eat his words, swallow them, anything to take them back and redo his introduction, âI am SO sorry! I-I donât even know why I said that, that was SO stupid-!â
âHey, hey,â 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, âItâs okay, letâs just⌠start over,â They lifted their arm with shaking effort, managing a grin for Gold, âHi, Iâm Second.â
Feeling a little relief wash over him, Gold reached over and carefully took his hand, giving it a light shake, âIâm Gold. Itâs nice to meet you.â
Secondâs eyes remained trained on Goldâs face the entire time, watching him as if looking for something, and Goldâs 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 Secondâs face, âWhatâs wrong? You look like a cat thatâs about to be drowned.â
Everyone laughed even longer and louder than before as Goldâs jaw dropped. Once his brain caught up with the present, Gold found himself joining in on the merriment, âOkay, okay, thatâs fair.â He agreed. Greenâs 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 Goldâs thoughts, and everyone turned to Purple with various levels of amusement. âGeez, you still havenât shut that thing up?â Green teased, his arm still around Goldâs shoulders.
âWith what?!â Purple asked, âIn case you havenât noticed, the kitchenâs still wrecked!â
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 Goldâs 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 theyâd done for him. Like giving him comfort and taking his mind off things and saving his damn life.
âOoh! I can handle that!â Gold informed the others triumphantly, before pulling away to sprint towards the living roomâs bookshelf. Once it had been neatly arranged; there had been a separate shelf for dadâs manuals, dadâs novels, Goldâs novels, and Goldâs 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 Purpleâs, 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 â not as much as two years ago, he noted, but still plenty â before turning around to wave the fistful of bills for the others to see. Yellowâs eyes lit up as she squealed, and everyone else seemed to freeze in place at the sight of real money.
Purpleâs mouth fell open in shock, âWait, he had a secret stash this whole time?!â They scowled, âThat cheap Old ManâŚâ
âNice!â 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, âUh, is it really okay for us to use that?â
âGeez, you really are the mom friend,â Purple rolled their eyes, plopping down on the couch near Secondâs feet.
Still, the worried look on their face was making Goldâs stomach squirm, so he held up a finger and declared, âWell, why donât we ask him?â Turning towards where his bedroom was in the house, Gold raised his voice and shouted, âHey, Dad! Weâre gonna use some of the emergency fund to order out! If thatâs not okay, say something!â Gold held a hand up his ear to amplify his hearing, and waited.
And waited.
And waitedâŚ
After a few more seconds of nothingness, Gold shrugged, âGuess itâs okay.â
Second weakly smiled in response, âHeh, alright then.â Their eyes fluttered a little, trying and failing to resist the siren song of slumber.
âPizza cool with everyone?â 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.
âOh, make sure no meat for me!â Red suddenly piped up.
Blue nodded thoughtfully, âIâve never gone full vegetarian with a pizza. That actually sounds pretty good!â She licked her lips, no doubt imagining the taste of red sauce and vegetables on her tongue.
âIâm good with whatever,â Green piped up, âBut make sure to get something simple for Sec. They tend to like the more traditional pizzas, and theyâre already not feeling well, soâŚâ His hand found its way to Secondâs 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, âOkay, so weâll get three pizzas. One classic pepperoni, one veggieâŚâ Gold perked up, and quickly leapt to interrupt Purple and get his own favourite pizza added on.
âOh! Oh! Could the last one be Hawaiian?â
â-And the last will be Hawaiian, obviously.â
The two sentences, spoken in perfect harmony, echoed through the living room as Purple and Goldâs 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 Goldâs side, and tossed an arm over his shoulder, âGoldie,â The violet stick smiled as they cheerfully proclaimed, âI think you and I are gonna get along juuust fine.â
---------------------
Thump.
âArg⌠come on!â
Thump.
âWhy wonât this stupid thing-â
Thump.
âOpen?!â
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Behind Mango, the so-called King sighed from the spot on the ground where heâd made himself comfortable, âGive it a rest. Those kidâs arenât going to make it so easy for us to get out of here.â
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 wasnât 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.
âMaybe itâd be a little easier,â Mango sneered out under his breath, âif you did anything other than just sit there, you useless piece of-â
King cut him off, âOh, shut up. Youâre giving me a migraine.â As if to emphasize this point, King began digging his fingers into the temples of his skull, âTake it from someone whoâs been there: You donât want to fly off the handle at any little thing. Trust me, youâll end up regretting it.â
Spinning on his heels, Mango leveled a glare at King. âThis isnât any little thing!â His fists twitched at his side, begging Mango to let them fly forth, to punish, to hurt. He held off for now, âThis is my baby! My Gold! Dying! How could you not be furious?!â Just the thought of Goldâs suffering constricted Mangoâs lungs in his chest, making each inhale of air a fight, âHow could you just let this go?! Heâs the only good thing in this cursors damned world, and heâs gone!â Turmoil churned in Mangoâs gut, making him vaguely nauseous. He pushed through the pain, spitting it all back out at King, âHe was pulled into some game attraction, glitched out of existence, and you just sat back and watched! YOU LET HIM DIE!â
He could see it now. Gold, pushing back against the pull of that accursed game, desperately reaching out to him, Dad! Dad, help me! Iâm 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, Mangoâs volume lowered as he growled, âI donât care what you say, I am not you. I would never sit back and do nothing while my child was murdered.â
Throughout the tirade, King didnât once speak up. Didnât so much as twitch. He kept his gaze level and even on the wall opposite of him. âYouâre not telling me anything I havenât already told myself,â He responded coolly, far too coolly, once Mango was done. His vacant, uncaring eyes wouldnât meet Mangoâs, which boiled his blood hotter, âBut Iâve been where you are. I know exactly how youâre feeling, and I know that giving into that anger will just make things so much worse. If you donât cool off, youâll end up doing something you regret.â
âRegret more than letting my kid die?â The idea was almost laughable, if it wasnât so painfully stupid.
Finally King got off his lazy butt, standing and at last meeting Mangoâs eyes. They were as cold and empty as King himself. âEarlier, when that kid tried to stop us from fighting, you swung your fists without even looking,â The phantom pressure of that childâs face danced across Mangoâs 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 heâd caught the look on his future selfâs face; how could he have so much concern for this random bystander when his dead baby was right there? Oblivious, King continued, âDid it ever occur to you that it could have easily been Gold whoâd tried to stop us instead?â
Now that made Mangoâs blood run cold, because he was certain his future self was right. If those kids hadnât run in to interfere, Gold wouldâve 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 wouldâve punched his own child.
Pushing that thought of his head, Mango immediately redirected, âAre you sure itâs Gold youâre worried about? Because you seemed awfully concerned about that other kid⌠Purple, was it?â Kingâs 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, âWho are they, anyways?â
âTheyâreâŚâ King tripped over his tongue, looking away from Mango as he no doubt realized what Mango had, âItâs complicatedâŚâ
âDoesnât seem too complicated to me,â Mango stepped into the otherâs space, backing him into the wall. For a so-called King, he didnât 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. âIt seems like you just picked up some random kid off the street to fill the hole in your life,â King seemed to bristle at that, which only spurred Mango on, âYou disgusting, pathetic bastard. What kind of father are you, to just forget your child and replace them with-â
That was as far as Mango got before he was thrust against the opposite wall, a bruised arm threatening to crush his windpipe. The Kingâs eyes had gone wide and wild, like a feral dogâs, and Mango reveled the fury, âPurple is NOT a replacement for Gold,â He growled, voice low and dangerous, âNo one could EVER replace Gold.â
Despite the pressure on his throat, Mango gave the other his biggest, smuggest grin, âWhat was it you said about giving into anger?â
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 didnât quite succeed, âI know how you feel because Iâve been there,â King grumbled, âDo not presume to know how I feel in return. Purple is not Gold. They will never be Gold, and I donât 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,â As he spoke, Kingâs eyes lost focus, staring at the wall in front of him without seeing anything, âI 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 isnât valuable enough. I owe them so much more than that.â
A ghost of a smile formed on Kingâs face. Mangoâs stomach turned. How could this⌠sick monster smile while his baby was dead?
âIâve already been angry about Goldâs death,â Continued King. He sounded less angry with every sentence, which began eating away at Mangoâs limited patience yet again, âI know what that feels like, what it does to me. But this isnât a time to be angry. Thanks to this⌠miracle, I have a chance to change fate. Iâm elated,â Kingâs hand reached up to brush his too long hair out of his face, smiling softly, âI can save my child.â
âMy child,â Mango interrupted insistently. Owlish blinking was what he got in response, and he sharpened his glare as he elaborated, âYour child, if youâll remember, is dead. Gold is my kid, and Iâm not going to become you. I wonât let anything happen to him.â
King pressed his lips together thinly and stared at Mango, but did not protest. âFine. Whatever,â He brushed off, âThatâs not whatâs important. The only thing that matters right now is Gold,â For once, the King was speaking sense, âI wonât try to make you like me, or pretend thatâs even possible. But for Goldâs sakeâŚâ An empty hand reached out, an olive branch of peace, âWeâll need to work together.â
There was no need to elaborate further. This King was his and Goldâs only connection in this world. It was still unclear if there was a way for the two to return to the past. Theyâd need a safe place to say, and while this had once been Mangoâs 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. Theyâd 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, âFine. For now. But the second Iâm on my feet, Iâm taking MY kid and weâre leaving.â
âAs long as Goldâs safe and happy,â The King smiled a weary smile as he shook his hand, âThatâs all that matters.â
Once the truce was firmly established, Mango pulled his hand from Kingâs 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. âIf youâre trying to break through, youâre going to need more force than that,â Mango advised, folding his arms, âI figured if we both hit it in tandem-â
âWeâll break down the door,â King put a single finger up, shushing Mango like a child, and then he beckoned with his hand to his seething younger self, âbut before we resort to destruction of property, hand me one of those hangers, will you? I want to try something.â
Automatically, Mango reached up and took hold of one of the wire hangers. Letting this bastard boss him around was far from Mangoâs 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, Mangoâs eyes met Kingâs, and it was only then that heâd realized that his response had been to jump at the sound. There was an unpleasant crinkle of amusement around the foolish Kingâs eyes as he stepped out, took back his crown, and mockingly bowed.
Smug bastard.
---------------------
Madame Marroneâs Pizzeria wasnât the best pizzeria Purple had ever eaten at. Heck, it wasnât even the best one in delivery range, but it was fast and cheap and good for what it was, so it was Madame Marroneâs chocolate brown visage on their pizza boxes when theyâd 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 Purpleâs head the first time theyâd ordered pineapple pizza, looking like heâd just seen a ghost. And now that they knew the reason, Purple could barely contain their laughter. Whoâd 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 Goldâs loss had hurt the Old Man so deeply. It wasnât just that Gold was his kid â 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 theyâd 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 theyâd 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 Purpleâs first clue, but in their defense theyâd had more important things to focus on at the time. Theyâd only managed to get to the point of Goldâs demise before the chaos had broken out.
Red had winced, hearing the details of Goldâs passing. âIâm sorry, man,â He sympathized, âMinecraft glitches are rough.â Though the Booth Thirty incident and the âHerobrineâ incident were two very different circumstances, it was likely the closest any of them could ever come to understanding what Gold went through.
âItâs not like I actually experienced that,â Gold shrugged off the show of empathy. Theyâd all rearranged themselves after the pizza had arrived, and Gold had taken over the arm of the Old Manâs armchair, right next to Yellow. âBut itâs so weird to think about. I mean, I knew death was a thing, obviously, but Iâve never even lost someone before. Iâve never thought seriously about what happens after death. Have you guys?â
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 didnât 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. âI have,â They confessed. It was hard to avoid that topic, when your last remaining family was slowly fading away in front of your eyes, âThey say when dataâs deleted from a hard drive, itâs never really completely gone. That some trace of it always remains. I donât know if thatâs true, but I want to believe it is.â
Because it meant, in some way, that Purpleâs mother had remained with them after her death. That Purple hadnât 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.
âI⌠hope thatâs true, too,â Gold agreed.
It occurred to Purple that they could tell the rest of the story right then and there. The details theyâd been missing from the Booth Thirty Incident had been covered by Goldâs retelling of the event, and everything else theyâd been present for. But the look on the Old Manâs face when he left to finally speak with Gold, that utterance of âThis is a family matterâ, muted their voice. It wouldnât be right for Purple to tell Gold what theyâd done. That was- that was Kingâs job. From family to family, no room for anyone else.
...Purple was a really bad person.
âWell, personally, I donât,â Yellow declared, âI can barely handle one Green. The army that would arise from his many, many foolish Minecraft deaths? No thank you.â
Green scoffed at Yellowâs complaints, âYouâre just jealous. You couldnât possibly compete with an army that awesome.â
âH-heyâŚâ Secondâs mumbling broke through their ribbing, âCan we maybe change the subject? Iâm not really up for talking about this right nowâŚâ
A round of worried looks passed around the room. While Purple lacked context for many of the groupâs 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 couldâve 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 didnât relent, only holding on all the tighter.
âŚPurple 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 Purpleâs 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.
ââBout time you broke out,â Purple said in lieu of a proper greeting.
The backhanded remark was barely acknowledged. Instead Old Man King tenderly took Purpleâs face into his grip and inspected the still sore side where the punch had landed. A strange tingling sensation drew Purpleâs gaze over the old manâs shoulder to the other old man, glaring daggers at them from over Goldâs fuzzy curls, and they couldnât help the flinch in response.
Whether or not King could feel it too was unclear, but he shifted positions to block Mangoâs view of Purple, and they allowed themselves to relax a little.
âItâs not as bad as Iâd feared,â King spoke in clear relief, though his small smile was dampened by clear hints of guilt, âHow do you feel?â
Eager to clear that remaining fog of regret from the Old Man, Purple scoffed and tossed their hair back, preening dramatically, âAlas, despite Mangoâs best efforts, the curse remains in full effect. Iâm still tragically beautiful.â
King snorted, âAt least your egoâs still in tact,â He then glanced down at the plate of pineapple and ham pizza sat nearby. It was Purpleâs third slice, which they had no shame about. It wasnât like theyâd have to share with anyone but Gold (and maybe Blue, though she seemed content with her veggie pizza), âAh, you ordered out?â
âYup!â Purple chirped, breaking away easily from the Old Manâs fragile hold to take their food, âWe tried to salvage the lasagna, butâŚâ
âIt killed a bush,â Blue blurted out, a haunted look in her eye as she recalled just how close sheâd 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, âOf course. Of course it did. If the neighbors ever sue me because of you brats, Iâm dragging you all down with me.â
âWouldnât be the first time!â Red chirped, like he was referring to casual criminal mischief and not that time King nearly killed them all. Purple couldnât help laughing along with the others as they all cracked up. Nearly dying hadnât 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 Kingâs grimacing face, theyâd manage to convince the Old Man of the same.
For Gold, however, all the vague reference and laughter caused was confusion. âWhat do you mean?â
It had been so easy to forget, in the wake of all the revelry, that Gold still wasnât 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 wasnât 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 otherâs comforting presence, King released Purpleâs hand and exhaled, âIâve brought this up to⌠your father before,â There was a strange intonation to those words, your father, and the implications made Purple frown, but they didnât interrupt, âBut there was more to the story I was telling you earlier. Things that happened after you died. You⌠deserve to know.â
Mango looked to the side. It wasnât clear how much King had revealed to him, but it was enough for him to avoid his childâs confused eyes searching him for answers.
âOh boy,â Yellow sighed, pushing back into the armchair and making herself comfortable, âGreen, pass me another drink. This is gonna be a long one.â 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 Purpleâs spot at the center of attention. Unlike Purpleâs 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 Kingâs satisfaction, and once they did he sighed and began, âWhen you⌠died,â The light in Kingâs eyes completely left him, âI 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 deadâŚ?â Unrestrained tears fell from the Old Manâs eyes, and Purpleâs fingers itched with the desire to reach out, to take his hand yet again. But the eyes around them, the burning anger in Mangoâs face, the repetition in their head of âthis is a family matterâ kept them frozen in place.
Gold, however, had no such restraints, and even Mangoâs hold couldnât stop the bright stick from slipping out of his grasp and over to King. His arms wrapped around the Old Manâs neck, grounding him with the pleasant weight of warm sunshine. Purpleâs fingers dug into he fabric of their pants, wondering why couldnât they just be happy to see that? Why did it hurt so bad? Why couldnât they just be a good person?
âIâm so sorry, DadâŚâ Gold cooed, and Kingâs breath hitched, âI didnât mean to hurt you like this.â
âOh, honey,â Even through the tears, King managed to smile for Gold, âYou never hurt me. Losing you was painful, but that was not your fault,â Purple turned to glance at Mango, and found him frowning in open displeasure at the sight before him. Well, at least Purple wasnât the only bad person. King allowed Gold to hold him for a moment longer before gently, reluctantly, pushing him back, âbut⌠please go sit down. I need to finish telling the story.â
With a great amount of effort, Gold broke away, sitting down next to where Mango was standing. The second he was within armâs reach, Mango had him back in his embrace, holding him tight so he wouldnât disappear again. His worried eyes stayed glued to King the entire time.
âNothing mattered anymore. All I could think about was that moment, that terrible moment where Iâd 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.â
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 theyâd truly realized why King had done what he did. Goldâs eyes widened, and Mangoâs narrowed.
âBut Iâd already beaten the gameâs technicians to a pulp,â 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 whoâd been trying to run the game, theyâd certainly felt it for days, âAnd the company had me sign a waiver. Itâd been foolish of me not to read it, I know, but I couldnât undo it. There was no legal recourse for me. I couldâve gone vigilante with it, but I didnât have the resources or know-how to do such a thing without getting caught. And besidesâŚâ Kingâs eyes darkened, âMy attention had focused⌠somewhere else.â
âOn the game itselfâŚâ Green realized aloud. Red and Blue exchanged a look over Secondâs 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, âI⌠donât understandâŚâ
âFrom my perspective,â King began to explain, âit 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 wasnât 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,â A mad gleam fell across Kingâs eyes, âNo matter what it took.â
Mangoâs posture had stiffened, looking over at his other self in something like astonishment, â...huh,â He muttered, âYou werenât kiddingâŚâ
âBut- but-â Gold sputtered, confused and grieved and horrified by what he was hearing, âBut itâs a game! An entire world filled with monsters, and npcs, and other players, and- and- innocent people!â Goldâs 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, âIt wasnât the gameâs fault the fair booth was glitched up! You canât punish innocents for something that wasnât their fault!â
King sat silently, unable to meet Goldâs haunted eyes.
The utter anguish on Goldâs 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 Goldâs fragile heart, Purple intervened, drawing the spotlight to themselves, âBut we beat him~!â They spoiled, hoping that knowing King lost would mitigate at least a bit of the heartache, âAnd we undid all the damage King and I did! No sticks were harmed in the making of this final showdown!â
âUh, yes, sticks were harmed in the making of this showdown,â Yellow interrupted incredulously, âMANY sticks were harmed in the making of this showdown, actually.â
âQuiet, peg-leg,â Purple hissed back.
âBack up for a moment,â Mango suddenly interrupted, standing rigidly straight, âYou said âall the damage King and I didâ.â Purple winced. Yeah, they had let that slip, hadnât they? âWhat do you mean by that?â
This was where King regained control of the narrative, taking back the spotlight from Purple to spare them the interrogation. âIn 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 Iâd envisioned, but nothing I acquired was strong enough. They could break things, sure, but they werenât 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.
âI didnât 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 didnât sleep, I barely ate. I wandered the city aimlessly, asking anyone whoâd give me a second of time, âHave you seen this icon? Do you have any information? Please, anything, Iâd give anythingâŚâ Kingâs voice cracked, which signaled him to take a moment, take a breath, before continuing, âThen, I finally found it. Through a YouTube video, of all things.â
A chorus of groans came from the couch and the armchair. Second buried their face in their hands. Green sighed and muttered, âThatâs how you found us? Cursors damn it, AlanâŚâ
âWeâre gonna need to have another long talk about this,â Blue moaned, âUgh, as if the last one hadnât been bad enough.â
âAlanâs the human you all live with, right?â Purple asked, receiving some half-hearted confirmations in response.
Gold seemed confused by the mere concept, âYou all live with a human?â He arched his eyebrow at them. Though his haggard eyes indicated Kingâs 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, âI thought all humans were violent, stick-killing psychopaths.â
That wasnât so uncommon a belief in a city run by Rocket Corp: everyone knew the tragic tale of its recently deceased leader, how theyâd been created for the sole purpose of suffering and dying, how theyâd manage to drag themselves from the Recycling Bin and rose to power, creating a safe haven where humans couldnât 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.
âThatâs not⌠always trueâŚâ Second protested, but it sounded weak and shaky for reasons beyond Secondâs physical state.
The tension returned with a vengeance.
â...actually, that kinda proves Kingâs even dumber than we thought,â 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 Kingâs back, but one of the few insults he couldnât stand was one to his intellect. It was, to put it in Kingâs own words, one of the few things he hadnât lost that day, âI mean, you saw Alanâs videos of our adventures and you still thought it was a good idea to threaten and steal from us? Talk about moronic.â
Seething, King spoke through grinding teeth as he responded, âWell, I hadnât exactly planned on fighting you kidsâŚâ
âYou shouldnât be fighting anyone,â Gold scolded, and though his glare bore into King, Purple didnât miss his side-eye at Mango as well, âOr stealing anything.â
Thoroughly scolded, King winced and looked away, âRight, sorry. But, to continue, I used what I learned to seek out the sticks who had the Icon. Thatâs what lead me to Purple. Or, rather, them to me. I⌠wasnât exactly honest with them.â
Purple snorted. âThatâs 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!â Purple pumped their first up, as though in example, â...Of course, I didnât know what the staff was really capable of, or what the Old Man intended to do with it. If I had, I donât think Iâd have gone along with it.â
Or at least Purple would like to think they wouldnât have. They didnât want to ponder too hard on it â given Purpleâs thirst for power and how nice the Old Man had been when Purple was obedient, Purple wasnât sure theyâd like the answer theyâd come to.
âSo, 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. Iâd go find the others and lure them into a trap, then Iâd get the Icon for King and weâd conquer the world,â Purple looked over at their friends, and felt a familiar kick in their gut, âAgain, I am so sorry about that. I had my reasons, butâŚâ
âWe know,â Green consoled, patting Purple on the shoulder, âWeâve already forgiven you.â
âYou know what they say about trusting people,â Blue chimed in, grinning cheekily, âThird timeâs the charm!â
âDonât think thatâs about trustâŚâ Second rebuffed jokingly from the comfortable cushion of Blueâs shoulder.
Warmth flooded into Purpleâs cheeks. They couldnât say what miracle allowed their friends to forgive them after all the garbage theyâd pulled, but Purple would never take it for granted. Er, this time.
Red had taken over story-time in the meanwhile, âSo, we ran into Purple after an already pretty long day,â Purple could hear Blue mumbling under her breath. They couldnât quite make out what she was saying, but it made Second chuckle, âAnd they lured us into this parkour course. It was pretty fun at first! But, then I won, and I realized the others werenât coming, and the guards wouldnât let me leaveâŚâ
âWe were trapped,â Green summarized, âStuck there so King wouldnât have worry about us while he stole our Icon⌠hey,â Greenâs brow furrowed, âWere you just going to keep us there? While you blew up Minecraft? Did you at least have some way to get Purple out?â
This question made Purple look away from the Old Manâs face for the first time throughout the entire story. It was done and over with. They didnât need to know. They didnât want to know. Kingâs mistakes, however painful, were done and over with. They were happy now. Questions like these shouldnât be haunting Purple. They shouldnât.
âThere 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 hadnât planned to sacrifice anyone else to Minecraft,â King answered, and Purple let out a breath they didn���t realize theyâd been holding, âThings got⌠out of hand after you all broke out, though.â
âSeems they were out of hand for a long time before that,â Green quipped dryly.
Gold nodded along, staring blankly ahead of him, âYeah, no kiddingâŚâ
The dismissive scoffing from Gold seemed to stun both King and Mango, but nonetheless King continued on, âWhen the kids realized what I was planning, they tried to stop me. We fought. I⌠didnât 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.â
âWait, what?!â Gold jumped up, alarmed, âNo, but⌠no! Everyone hereâs fine, that means you- did you actually destroy a wholeâŚ?â
Taking in shallow, rapid breaths, Gold backed away from King and held his head in his hands. Mangoâs 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, couldnât seem to bridge the gap between them.
Well, if King couldnât 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, âHey,â They put on their biggest, most confident smile for Gold, âRemember what I said earlier? I turned on King, and the good guys won. Minecraftâs still in one piece. King screwed up, but nobody died, I promise.â
Too distressed to respond verbally, Gold just swallowed and nodded. His father drew Gold closer and hugged him tight, and though Goldâs hands gripped at Mangoâs arms, he didnât look any more at ease.
Kingâs longing eyes clung fast to Goldâs anxious form, but after a moment he continued, âWith the Iconâs 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,â Goldâs hands flew up to cover his mouth in shock, âBut Purple⌠didnât give up. Even when the beam was pointed right at them and their body was disintegratingâŚâ The Old Manâs voice shook as he remember. Purple winced, rubbing at their arm to soothe an ache that wasnât there, âThey kept pushing forward, and⌠and by the time Iâd realized what I was doing to them⌠they were almostâŚâ The Old Manâs 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, âI⌠will never be able to apologize enough for that.â
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.
â...So you almost killed Purple?â Gold spat. Purple pried their gaze from the flooring to where the other kid was staring, âIt wasnât 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?!â
King didnât have a response. He didnât even try to defend himself, merely hanging his head in shame.
Mango, on the other hand, didnât hesitate to reassure his child, âDonât worry, Honey,â He tried to console, unaware that his soothing words made Gold grit his teeth all the harder, âThis isnât going to be our future. Iâll make sure of it-â
âRight, because youâre not going to do anything like that!â Gold snapped, pulling away from Mangoâs attempts at comfort, âItâs not like you just started throwing punches at literally everyone the second you heard something you didnât like!â
The poor Old Man couldnât 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. âHey! Hey! Itâs okay, itâs all gonna be-â
âItâs not okay!â Gold screamed at Purple, his tear-stricken face a near-perfect mirror of Mangoâs. Unlike Mango, however, Gold immediately retreated when he saw Purple flinch away, âSorry, âm sorry, I didnât mean that, I justâŚ. I donât understand,â His head fell into his hands again, tears flowing free and unashamed down his face as he repeated, âI donât understand⌠he hurt you. He almost killed you,â Purple idly rubbed at their arm, unsure of what to say, âHow can you forgive that?â Gold looked past Purple, to the many sticks sitting at attention on the couch, âHow can any of you forgive that?â
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, âI canât speak for the others, but now that I know, I can kind of understand why Mango- King did what he did.
âWhen you lose someone⌠or even think youâre going to lose someone⌠itâs like thereâs 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,â Second took a brief break to cough before diving right back into it, âbut, 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 everythingâs breaking down around you, thereâs something you can do. Some power you can take back. And by the time you realize it was lying to youâŚâ Secondâs eyes fell, clouded by dark thoughts, âYouâve already hurt the people you wanted to protect.â
Without exchanging words, Red reached over and took Secondâs hand into his own, squeezing it tightly. Greenâs 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, âBut that doesnât make it okay.â
âNo,â King agreed, quietly surprising Purple. With how heavily his sins were weighing down on him, Purple hadnât expected the Old Man to speak up again, âIt doesnât.â
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, âHow did you beat him?â
âIt was all Sec, baby!â Green cheered, proudly displaying his orange friend.
Second rolled their eyes at him, âIt 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!â After that proclamation, Second sunk further into Green, somehow looking even more tired, âFor real, though, I wouldnât have gotten close without you guys.â
âWhat would you do without us?â Yellow teased, a smug grin settling on her face. The friends shared a round of chuckles amongst themselves. Gold didnât partake, only staring blankly at the wall behind the group. He only broke out of this trance when Yellowâs gentle touch on his arm caused him to jump, âHey, I get it. You only just learned that you were going to die in less than two years,â Yellow spoke those words so casually, but the ripples of pain they caused through the room were all too palpable, âand then we dumped all this on you. Itâd be a lot for anyone. You should take a break and get some rest. Looks like itâs getting pretty late, anyways.â
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 werenât injured, theyâd likely be staying the night anyways. It was simply too dangerous to traverse through the Minecraft world at this time of night.
âOkayâŚâ Gold acknowledged, hugging himself. Mango once again attempted to reach out to him and was once again rebuffed, âIâm⌠Iâm going to go get cleaned up.â
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 couldnât 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 theyâd 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 didnât 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, âHey,â They broke the silence hesitantly, âYou doing okay?â
For a moment, it was like King hadnât even heard Purple. They were about to repeat themselves when he finally responded, âI did the right thing, didnât I?â He asked.
âYup.â Immediately responded Purple.
That, at last, broke the mask King wore, making a small smile appear, âNo hesitation, huh?â
âLook,â Purple leaned their full weight on the Old Man, âI may not be an expert on âhealthy family dynamicsâ,â They punctuated their words with air quotes, âbut Iâve 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 hadnât told him yourself now, then heâd find out from someone else later, and that would have been far worse.â
Just the thought of that put a visible wince on Kingâs face, the poor Old Man nodding, âThatâs true. I just wish I didnât have to make him hate me.â
âHe doesnât hate you,â They reassured, carefully watching Kingâs face to make sure he wasnât getting too upset, âHeâs scared, and hurt, and really overwhelmed. Give him some time. Iâm sure heâll come around.â
Well, Purple couldnât really say that for sure. They werenât in Goldâs 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 couldnât 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 Manâs eyes, âYou think so?â
âI know so,â Purple, master of âfake it âtil you make itâ, proclaimed.
Their reward was a pair of arms wrapping tightly around them, so quickly Purple couldnât help the instinctual flinch in reaction, but once they recovered they immediately moved to return the embrace. Hugs werenât 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 Kingâs sake, theyâd be a good person, just this once.
âAhem,â 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, âSorry to interrupt,â He actually looked anything but sorry, but Purple wasnât about to call him out and get punched again, âbut I looked around, and I couldnât help but notice that I no longer have a bedroom.â
Right⌠Purple had also taken over the Old Manâs 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 Goldâs, not the Old Manâs. 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 Kingâs kid and past self.
âThatâs right,â King acknowledged, surprising Purple by taking one of their hands into his own, âPurple needed a space of their own, and I donât sleep much anymore, anyways. Normally when I need to sleep Iâll catch a nap on the couch, butâŚâ He glanced over to said couch, where Green was fluffing a pillow for Second, âI suppose thatâs not an option tonight.â
Purpleâs posture straightened immediately. They could sleep in the living room with the others â all five were used to bed sharing, it wouldnât 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-
âYou can sleep on the floor in my room.â
-And Gold beat them to it. Heâd appeared from behind the corner of the bedroom hallway, looking just as drained as he had when heâd disappeared.
Both King and Mango appeared startled by the invitation. âBoth of us?â King asked incredulously, and his brow only furrowed further when Gold nodded, âAre you sure?â
âIf I didn���t offer, youâd both just be up all night worrying about me anyways,â Gold huffed. It was clear from his guarded body language and low voice that nothing was forgiven quite yet â but for him to make this offer, Purple must have been right on the money with their earlier reassurances, âSo, yeah. You can both sleep in my room with me if you promise not to fight.â
The two versions of Goldâs dad eagerly agreed, and Purple fell back, swallowing the unmade offer, where it lodged in their throat and weighed unbidden on their lungs. Theyâre fine, they told themselves, watching Gold walk away to grab what little linen remained in the closet after the friend group had taken what theyâd 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. Theyâd get over it.
---------------------
Mango had always been a light sleeper.
Even before Gold had come along, sleeping just wasnât something that came naturally to Mango. Heâd stay up late, awaken multiple times throughout the night, and be up and out of bed at what his old roommates called âthe unholy hours of the morningâ. 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 Mangoâs 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 Mangoâs 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. âGoldâŚ?â 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 heâd been sleeping on the ground next to his own lookalike. âNo, Goldâs still in bed,â King confirmed, tossing his head in the direction of the bed, where Gold slept with his back to the two, âThatâs probably Purple. âM gonna go check on them⌠be right back.â
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 wasnât the kidâs 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 Kingâs blatant affection left in his mouth. The tyrant didnât 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, thereâs an easy way to find outâŚ
Mango turned under his blankets to look away from the door. No. No, he wasnât going out there. He couldnât leave Gold alone after everything, and Purple wasnât his problem. It was just a passing curiosity. Nothing more.
And whereâs their real parents? Their real home? Who ARE they, anyways?
It didnât matter. It didnât matter.
Why were they so content to play therapist to a stick who almost killed them?
It⌠didnât matterâŚ
The way they cowered when you hit them⌠were they�
Mango forced himself up. It wasnât like he was going back to sleep, anyways.
Instead, he slipped out of Goldâs room, trailing far enough behind King that he wouldnât take note of Mangoâs 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 Mangoâs face as he pressed his ear against it to listen in to the two on the other side.
âHey,â King began with a greeting, and Mango could hear someone scrambling on the other side of the door.
âAck! H-hey, donât scare me like that,â Purpleâs scolding voice responded.
Laughter followed, deep but playful, âSorry, sorry.â
âWhat are you even doing out here? Shouldnât you be asleep?â Huffed the younger stick.
This was followed by an exaggerated groan of complaint as King audibly ruffled Purpleâs hair, âI barely sleep on the best of days, and todayâs been⌠a lot.â Purple mumbled something that sounded like agreement, âSo I was already awake when I heard you leave your room. So, you want to tell me whatâs up?â
A long, silent moment, filled with only the distant sound of crickets in the night, passed before Purple eventually responded, âI- Itâs nothing, really. Sorry to drag you out here-â
âDonât give me that,â Chided King, âCâmon, tell me whatâs going on. The King demands it.â
Purple snorted in laughter, though it wasnât a particularly jolly sound. Rather, it sounded⌠tired, âItâs not important,â They tried to downplay, âJust⌠a bad dream. Iâll be fine.â
âAh,â Another moment of silence passed, followed by a simple question, âPink or Blue?â
âWhy do you think it always comes back toâŚ?â 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, âPink.â
âThat makes sense, given that weâve seen the dead come back to life today,â King shuffled over on the stoop; closer to Purple, maybe, âDo you⌠want to talk about it?â
âNot really much to talk about,â Purple proclaimed, before elaborating anyways, âMama and Pops and I were up at the beach, north of the city. Do you know it? Itâs at the lake with the little island in the middle.â
âNever been, but Iâve heard good things,â Confirmed King, âIs it nice?â
âItâs beautiful,â Purple sighed, their voice tinged with melancholy and nostalgia, âWeâd 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, weâd have ice cream and watch the sun set together. No matter what else was going on, we were always happy there.â
Were. Mangoâs 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 Kingâs own. That answered some questions, and raised so many more.
âWeâll have to go up there sometime,â King responded, speaking to Purple like one might speak to a skittish kitten.
âYeahâŚâ Despite the affirmation, Purple didnât sound particularly enthused at the idea, âbut, normally when I dream of the beach, itâs 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 couldnât make it out really well, but it had really big, really sharp teeth.
âIt dragged Mama down into the water. She kicked and screamed, and started coughing really bad, but she couldnât get away from it. At first I just sat there and watched like a total idiot,â Mango couldnât help wincing at the raw bitterness in Purpleâs voice, all directed inward, âbut 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 couldnât break free of it, no matter how hard I kicked, and she just got dragged down further, and further, and then⌠then I couldnât see her anymore,â Purpleâs voice shook a little, âI⌠once I lost sight of her, I froze. All I could think was that I wasnât strong enough to save her, wasnât good enough to save her, and it hurt so bad. I didnât even realize I was drowning too until I woke up gasping.â
King and Mango both took a tense moment to absorb Purpleâs 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 wasnât crying. Was it because they didnât want to burden anyone with their grief? Were they too used to the pain to cry? Mango couldnât 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 elseâsâŚ
âIâm⌠so sorry,â King cooed softly, his voice a careful orchestra of concern and restraint. âYou know⌠once Second recovers, we can ask them to do what they did for Gold for your mom. Iâm sure they wouldnât mind.â
â...No.â Purpleâs answer was sad, but resolute, âNo, that wouldnât be a good idea. What happened to Gold was a tragic accident. Mamaâs death was⌠not. She died of a long, incurable, painful illness, and we donât know if Secâs healing powers work on diseases like that. If we brought her to the future, no matter how far back we went, Iâd just have to watch her die again. Not only that, sheâs so nice, all my friends would love her, and then theyâd have to lose her too. It just wouldnât be fair to anyone involved.â
Mango felt a stupor fall over him as he mulled over Purpleâs answer. When heâd learned about Goldâs death, he could only process two things: the fury he felt at the monster whoâd 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⌠heâd 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.
âThatâs an incredibly mature decision,â Spoke the King, âand Iâm so sorry you had to make it, sweetheart.â
âEh, those were more like excuses not to ask, really.â Purple sighed, far more world-weary than any kid their age should sound, âEven if the others didnât kill me for asking after Sec almost died, it wouldnât be right to make them risk their life again just for me,â They paused, then added, âDoesnât mean it doesnât hurt, though.â
âI know,â Consoled the adult. Mango could hear him gently patting Purple on the back, presumably, and without thinking Mango clasped his own hands together. âIâve heard being in a more comfortable space can help with nightmares. You said you wanted a hammock bed, right? That shouldnât be too hard to install.â
There was a brief pause before Purple answered, âYou⌠donât mind me modifying your room like that?â
âYour room,â King corrected without hesitation. âItâs your space now, Purple. Iâd 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.â
âHeh,â A little more cheer was evident in Purpleâs voice as they absorbed Kingâs words. They seemed more confident, somehow, âYeah, thanks. Hey, maybe we can take that trip up to the beach. You know, if you donât bring any drama.â
Now that Purpleâs mood was on the upswing, Kingâs own voice took on a more jovial tone as well, âExcuse you. Iâll have you know that I had absolutely zero flair for the dramatic before you entered my life.â
Mango couldnât help but raise an eyebrow. Um, no. Even he had to call bull on that one.
âYouâre welcome~!â Purple teased back, âBut, seriously, the beach is kind of my happy place. So we can only go together if you promise to keep it a happy place.â
Context made King respond a bit more seriously, âI promise. Nothing but happy memories at the beach!â Then he hummed in thought, âIt might be a while before we get to go, then. âDramaâ has kind of taken over our lives right now.â
âWhen hasnât it?â Purple joked back, âBut, until then, maybe we can go somewhere else? And we can even bring Gold and your evil twin.â Mango scowled as King snorted. How did he, the one who wasnât a terrorist, end up with the title of evil twin? âLike, we can check out the amusement park! Or I can show Gold my tree house-â
âGonna have to veto that one, bud,â Interrupted King, âI know it wasnât the gameâs fault, just some malfunctioning tech, but Iâm not sure if Iâm ever going to be comfortable with Gold going into Minecraft after what happened⌠Iâm only barely able to handle you going in there alone.â
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?
âYeah, thatâs fair,â Purple agreed casually, as if they werenât talking about a stick-killing murder simulation, âthen I guess we can do something else. Maybe the park?â
âYeah, the parkâŚâ King sighed dreamily. Which park they were referring to was easy to guess; it had been his and Goldâs 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 Goldâs 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. âThat sounds lovely. Gold could show you all his favourite spots, I could use myself as a punching bag to teach you both proper dueling,â Mango rolled his eyes as Purple let out a snorting laugh, âWe could get corn dogs.â
âI hate corn dogs.â Purple answered. Heâd 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, âThen the princess can get themselves a pretzel.â 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 heâd done was use Purple to fill the hole in his life? âHow are you feeling now?â
âMmâŚâ Purple took a moment to mull it over before answering, âTired, actually. I think Iâm ready to head back in.â
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 Purpleâs friends like they were hurdles on a track. The echoing creak of the door opening hit Mangoâs 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 Purpleâs friends.
That slowness would be Mangoâs saving grace. He turned and began creeping through the hallway towards Goldâs 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 heâd been woken up in the middle of the night by a restless little golden angel knocking at his door.
â...Purple, hold up a second,â Kingâs voice quietly called out. Purpleâs questioning noise turned to one of shock, âYouâve got something on your cheek. Here, let me-â
âEw, Old Man, no-!â
Oh. King was giving him a chance to get away without being busted by Purple. Mango didnât 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 wasnât 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 todayâs events were clearly weighing on him, and Mangoâs heart ached at the sight.
At least the poor kid was able to get some rest.
--------------------
Gold hadnât 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 â his Dad â had poured out to him. All the people heâd hurt, the world heâd 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 hadnât even bothered to roll over and check on them. Were they fighting again? It shouldnât have mattered, but another knife of betrayal stabbed into Gold anyways. Heâd asked them to do one thing, one thing! And they couldnât even manage that.
As he laid there, Goldâs mind flickered through the dayâs 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 Dadâs GoldâŚ
Tears burned at his eyes, and Gold sniffed and hastily wiped them away. Heâd always known his Dad had a temper, but⌠but heâd thought his Dad was a good personâŚ
Eventually one of the Dads came back, a near inaudible creak in the otherwise dead silent night signaling his return. Gold didnât 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 â 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 wouldnât 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 Goldâs heart to beat louder in his ears. Anticipation stole his breath.
âItâs rude to eavesdrop, you know.â
Gold gulped down his nerves. Shoot.
Thankfully, before he could make the mistake of speaking up, the other version of his Dad, the one whoâd entered first, responded from where he laid on the floor, â...Sorry.â The voice was soft, and lacked the hostility he had in previous conversations with himself.
âIâm not the one you need to apologize to,â The Dad not laying down answered, âTomorrow youâll be telling Purple, and saying a proper âsorryâ,â His tone was firm, and Gold realized that the one standing by the door was, most likely, King.
âI will,â Mango replied. He didnât put up a fight at all, which somehow made Gold more nervous and suspicious than he wouldâve been if heâd fought the demand. He paused for a brief second, then asked, â...Purpleâs mom is dead?â
Goldâs breath caught in his throat. Purple was⌠was that why Purple went along with everything Dad had wanted? Because they didnât have anyone else?
King sighed out a long, tired sigh before responding, âYeah. Sheâs been dead longer than Gold. Some glitch in her core coding⌠I havenât exactly pressed Purple for details, and they werenât keen on giving them.â
âAnd their other parent?â Mango asked gingerly. Gold was reminded of an incident from when he was younger, when heâd broken a window with a baseball, and Dad was asking about the damages owed. The dread was tangible.
For a long moment King didnât respond, and Gold was almost starting to think he wouldnât when he finally answered, âThatâs not my story to tell,â Kingâs 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 Goldâs father louder in his villainy? âAnd if I tried, Iâd genuinely get too angry to sleep. Just know that if I had my way, that stick would NEVER get anywhere near Purple again.â
âSo my hunch was correct,â Mangoâs voice was quiet, almost inaudible, âThe kidâs an abuse victim.â
Oh, and it just got worse.
âLike I said, Purpleâs story isnât mine to tell.â King spoke through gritted teeth, âIf you want the details, you can ask them like the adult youâre supposed to be. But Iâm not saying anything else about it. I donât even think Purple knows how much I know about their previous home.â
Mango scoffed, âNo wonder the kidâs so attached. How can you not feel guilty?â
âGuilty?â King echoed.
âFor using that kid like you are? For taking in some sad, pitiable orphan just to make them replace your dead child?â
That- that wasnât true, Gold forced himself to think. There was no way that Goldâs Dad would do that to some poor kid, right? But⌠there was no way Goldâs Dad would commit attempted murder, or destroy an entire world, either. He searched himself for some sign, any sign, that his Dad wouldnât do that to Purple, and was met only with a clawing emptiness in his chest.
At this point, Gold didnât know what to think of his own father.
âIâve already told you,â Anger crept into Kingâs voice, though he kept the volume low, âPurple is not a replacement for Gold. Theyâre not some pet project, or some band-aid solution Iâll abandon now that Goldâs back.â
â...Well, itâs not like itâs my business,â Mango dismissed. Gold could hear rustling as he turned away from King, âOnce 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.â
Bile churned in Goldâs stomach. How could his dad talk like that about Purple? After what theyâd done for Gold? After what heâd 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 couldnât 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. Kingâs emotional support and Mangoâs target of resentment, allowing themselves to take on the Ochre familyâs burdens so the rest of them could be happy. It felt to Gold like someone should take on Purpleâs burdens, for once.
And if his father wasnât 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.
#Animator vs Animation#Animation vs Minecraft#AvA#AvM#Knightmare Writing#King Orange#Mango Tango#MT#Gold AVA#Purple AVA#The Second Coming#Orange AVA#Red AVA#Yellow AVA#Green AVA#Blue AVA#Fanfiction#Fanart#Family Drama#Time Travel#Past Character Death
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@peony-pearl 's Homestead AU gave me this little brain worm a while ago, and I only got around to hashing it out now, but I'm happy with how it turned out. LOL
I just love. Fire Fam drama.
You can read the fic here:
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Exile! Mammon x F!Reader
Mammon had a secret life. After all, his brothers canât destroy what they donât know. But what if they found out? Would they use this moment to be supportive? or destroy his single source of happiness?
Next
A disagreement within the Household of Lamentation left Mammon packing, which wasnât the first time. He comes backâeventually. Mammon always found a reason to return home, always. And even then in his absence, he wasnât truly absent. Lucifer was able to keep track of his wildcard of a brother. He was so chaotic, destruction followed. All Lucifer had to do was pick up the newspaper and read. However, this time around not even the local casinos saw him.
Then finally! He returned. To Luciferâs surprise, there were no traces of damage. Mammon was different. Here the minute, gone the next. Mammon was only present to handle royal affairs or attend mandatory meetings. Of course, there were occasional moments where he needed to cast judgment on those who were assigned to his layer of Hell, however, once the business was handled âMammon was gone.Â
It continued for a few years until Lucifer sought interest in his whereabouts. What changed him? Every demon he sent to trail him wound up missing or dead. The leads were cold, and no information was gained. It was only a matter of time before he did it himself. The Lords of Hell soon found themselves on a trip, scouring the realms of the world to find their dearest brother, Mammon.
When they did not find him during the first search it made them realize Mammon did not want to be found. While Lucifer hunted high and low he discovered rumors and talks about whatâs become of his brother. Mammon did have a track record. He was known for entering bad deals, being easily manipulated, baring a curse he was unable to break. They all grew restless, and aggressive in finding answers. Some necks had to be broken, some lives had to be taken. Each result had Lucifer stepping over pools of blood to get to him.
Lucifer had everyone dispersed to cover more ground. Naturally, it was he who discovered the location. The neighborhood was quiteâŚordinary, basic, a place Mammon would never be caught dead in. The community was bright, friendly with neighbors whoâd say âhelloâ as he, a dark entity passed through white picket fences. A solid knock from his fist nearly unhinged the door. Even in his humanoid form, Lucifer was still large, still mighty. A single flick was all he need, anything more could decimate cities. Frustrated was what he was. His patience ran thin. It was not often Lucifer loses his composure but when it comes to those he loves, composure be damned.
âHello, how many I help you?â
Lucifer wasted no time getting to the point. âMammon. Where is he.â
âAnd you are?â
âItâs not about who I am but what you are going to be.â The air became thin. âNow. Where. Is. He.â A single wave of his hand had the knob snatched from your reach.
Enough of these games, he demanded to see his brother. A dip of his head, he stepped through the low door frame. Mammon was here, he could smell him.
âExcuse me!â you exclaimed, brutally shoved from the entrance. âYou need to leave!â
Luciferâs shadow consumed your form. Tsk. As if you were a challenge, you were barely an opponent. His aura dispersed through your home, immediately plants began to wilt. His crimson eyes radiated the gates of hell, instilling fear into your soul. Maintaining a distance, you accidentally collided into the furniture; the vase toppled over, shattering. A spell left your lips, attempting to buy some time to runâ
âDid you really think such amateur hex could work on me?â he adjusted his gloves, breaking the barrier to pass the entrance hall. âYou are more foolish than I thought. A trait that will now cost your life.â
âDoes he owe you money too?â you whispered. âPlease,â you plead. The racing of your heart left you breathless. âIâll give you the money, just donât make a sceneââ
Before you knew it, small footsteps approached the confrontation. Tiny hands held a stuffed animal, a small child appeared but was frozen from fear. Thereâs a stranger in the house.
âMommy?â
Luciferâs intense demeanor shifted to observe this miniature human. No one else had those striking blue eyes and soft milky white hair. This human was, different â familiar.
The fear was evident in your eyes which made tears swell up in his ocean blues. âM-Mommy, Iâm scared.â
âMJ, go back upstairs, Iâll be up shortly.â
As much as he wanted to move, he couldnât, his legs refused to listen. Even with blurred vision, MJ saw the dark power. It drained everything of its natural energy. He was feeding from life itself. MJ had never seen anything like this, his eyes glossed towards yours and watched how it was consuming yours too. Soon his socks soaked as he made a puddle on the floor. In seconds you raised your child into your arms.
âIf you can wait outside, Iâll give you everything I have, just please, leave my children out of this,â you reasoned.
Rage diffused from Luciferâs body and was replaced with a new feeling, an unfamiliar emotion he dared not name. He took a moment to observe the walls and furniture of your home. Gradually, he approached a frame causing you to take a few steps back. Lucifer held it. There were youâŚhimâŚand two additional members who ironically looked just like his brother. His dark eyes creased, unable to handle such vital information. Setting the photo down, Lucifer removed himself from the premises to make one single phone call.
In seconds you bolted up the staircase, MJ cradled against your chest until you reached the nursery. Maximus was peacefully asleep when you snatch him from his bassinet. He stirred a little but you hushed him forcefully. Traveling light, you wrapped him against your back.
âMommy, my socks,â MJ whined.
âHoney, we donât have time for that,â you grabbed his hand. âLetâs go.â
He fumbled a little, âB-But I'm wet.â
âWeâll change you later,â you promised. Quickly the two of you moved. That man â no, demon â invaded your home without permission. His presence was heavy, he made you weak. For a moment, your knees buckled as you pushed open the door. You surely would have fainted if you had stood in his presence any further.Â
MJ lagged, small legs unable to keep up with your ferocious steps. Eventually, you boosted him into your arms. MJâs buried himself deep into your shirt as you move, fearful of whatâs to come. The exit was near, you could taste the freedom on your lips. Once you were outside, they wouldn't act. Demons wouldn't dare draw attention once in public. Where there were demons, hunters were to follow. If only you could get out in time.
The second you saw the door, the man was already sitting across the room â comfortably, as if he didnât break a sweat in arriving before you. It felt as if time had stopped the moment you saw him. Expression â unreadable, he stared, not at you but at your children. He rose while your legs failed to continue. The blood rushed in your ears, your heartbeat â loud.Â
Everything slowed, you were suffocating in the coldness of his presence. You tried to speak and say something, but there was nothing. Your mouth stayed shut as the demon approached, gradually closing in on the children. Your arms trembled with the lack of control. MJ peeked out from your shoulder and the intruder did not bare the atmosphere of death. Gently, you lifted your babies higher, trying to shield them both from view.
âI am not going to hurt you,â he disclosed.
He was lying, had to be. This demon came with intentions to tear you to shreds. What caused him to change so easily? Your throat constricted painfully. What should you do? Should you run? Stay still? All options seemed useless. Cause no matter what if he wanted you dead, you would be.
âI am Lucifer Morningstar; Mammonâs eldest brother.â
Next
#obey me#obey me!#swd obey me#shall we date mc#shall we date mammon#mammon x mc#mammon x reader#swd mammon#mammon#mammon angst#hurt/comfort#family drama#obey me female mc#mother mc#papa mammon#parent mammon#mammon supremacy#obey me fanfic#obey me fanfiction#obey me next gen#female reader
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