Cursed Cola

Trey Clover

The kitchen smelled like vanilla, warm butter, and fresh strawberries, the usual peaceful Saturday afternoon baking session. Trey had his sleeves rolled up, apron dusted with flour. His son sat on a tall stool nearby, little legs swinging back and forth as he watched his father work. But the boy’s mind was clearly elsewhere. He kept glancing toward the doorway that led to the living room, where you were currently resting on the couch with a pillow behind your back.

Trey noticed the distraction and smiled softly, wiping his hands in a towel. “What’s on your mind, buddy? You’ve been quiet today.”

The little boy looked up at him with serious eyes. “Daddy, you have to stop feeding Mommy so many sweets.”

Trey raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because her belly is getting really huge!” the boy said matter of factly. “and she keeps saying her back hurts. If you keep giving her cake and tarts, she’s gonna get even bigger!”

Trey let out a warm, fond laugh that filled the kitchen. He set the bowl down and crouched slightly so he was closer to his son eye level. “That’s not because of the sweets, kiddo. Mommy’s belly is big because your little sister is growing in there.”

The boy’s eyes widened in pure horror. “Mommy ate my future sister?!”

Trey had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing too hard. He reached out and gently ruffled his son’s hair. “No, no. She didn’t eat her. That’s not how it works.”

The boy tilted his head, clearly confused but now intensely curious. “Then… how did the baby get in there?”

Trey froze for a second.

Ah. The Question.

He had known this day would come eventually. He thought for a long moment, trying to find an explanation that was gentle enough for a child, and wouldn’t get him in trouble with you later for oversharing. Finally, he smiled that calm, reliable dad smile and went with what he knew best.

“It’s kind of like baking.” Trey explained. “When two people love each other very much, like Mommy and I do, they put all their love together, along with some special ingredients. It makes a kind of dough. Then they carefully shape that dough with lots of care and warmth. And after a long time of ‘baking’… a baby comes out, all ready and perfect.”

The boy’s eyes sparkled with sudden understanding. “So… it’s like making a gingerbread man?”

Trey nodded, relieved. “Exactly like that. Except way more special. And instead of cookies, you get a little sister.”

The boy thought about it for a second, then grinned brightly. “Can we make gingerbread men right now? With buttons and everything? I want to make one for my baby sister!”

Trey chuckled and stood up, already reaching for the cookie cutters. “Sure thing. But we have to save some dough for Mommy too. She’s been craving sweets even more lately.”

As father and son started rolling out fresh gingerbread dough together, the dangerous question was successfully avoided. Trey made a mental note to thank the Seven that his son was still young enough to be distracted by baked goods.

Later that evening, when you walked into the kitchen and saw the tray of slightly lopsided gingerbread babies, you raised an eyebrow at Trey. “…Do I even want to know what conversation led to this?”

Trey just smiled innocently and kissed your cheek. “Let’s just say I handled the ‘where do babies come from’ talk with minimal damage.”

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie was in the middle of his least favorite chore …laundry… grumbling under his breath about how how is he supposed to fold a panties. He was sorting socks when his little girl walked into the room, clutching his car keys in both hands like they were precious treasure.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oi, what’re you planning with those, kiddo?”

She looked up at him with big, determined eyes and declared. “Daddy, you need to take me to the hospital right now.”

Ruggie’s ears shot straight up. His eyes blew wide in instant panic.

1. Something was wrong with his baby girl.

2. If anything was wrong with her, you were going to kill him, bring him back, and kill him again.

He dropped the laundry basket and crouched down immediately, hands gently checking her forehead, arms, and knees. “What’s wrong?! Does anything hurt? Did you fall? Are you sick? Talk to me, kid!”

His daughter shook her head, looking perfectly fine and a little confused by his reaction. “I’m okay, Daddy.”

Ruggie let out a huge sigh of relief, shoulders slumping. “Then why do you wanna go to the hospital so bad?”

She said it so casually it nearly knocked him over. “To buy me a little sister.”

Ruggie blinked once. Twice.

“…The hospital doesn’t sell kids, kiddo.”

His daughter puffed out her cheeks and pointed an accusing finger at him. “You’re a big liar! I saw it! People walk in with nothing and come out carrying babies!”

Ruggie had to bite down hard on his lip to stop himself from laughing right in her face. His shoulders shook with the effort. This was too good. He tried to keep a straight face. “That’s… not quite how it works.”

She crossed her arms, looking thoroughly annoyed. “Then where do babies come from?”

Ruggie leaned back against the washing machine, grinning that signature sly hyena smile. He shrugged. “Sorry, kid. That kind of top secret information costs a lot. And your little piggy bank doesn’t have nearly enough saved up to buy it from me.”

His daughter stared at him for a long moment, clearly plotting. Ruggie thought he was so smart. He thought he’d bought himself some peace and quiet.

He was wrong.

A few hours later, you walked through the front door and immediately narrowed your eyes at Ruggie, who was now pretending to be very focused on washing the dishes.

“Why…” you asked slowly, “did our daughter just call Leona on the phone asking to borrow money so she could ‘buy information’ from her father?”

Ruggie froze mid fold. His ears flattened. “..She did what now?”

You crossed your arms. “You heard me.”

Ruggie ran a hand down his face, groaning. “That little sneak… I knew she was too smart for her own good.” Ruggie sighed dramatically and flopped against you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Can’t we just tell her the stork brings them? Or that they grow on trees?”

“You messed up, you solve it.”

He never going to live this one down.

Jade Leech

Jade walked hand in hand with his daughter after he picked her up from kindergarten. He’s listening attentively as she chattered away about her day. His usual polite smile was soft and genuine, these moments with her were some of his favorites.

“We went to the aquarium today, Papa!” she said excitedly, swinging his hand. “We saw big fishes and tiny fishes and, and baby seahorses! They were so small and funny looking!”

Jade nodded, eyes warm with amusement. “That sounds quite fascinating. Did you learn anything interesting about them?”

She nodded vigorously. “The teacher said the daddy seahorse carries the babies and gives birth to them! It looked really silly.”

Jade chuckled softly. “Nature has many curious ways of…”

The little girl suddenly stopped walking and looked up at him with big, innocent eyes. “Papa… did you give birth to me? Just like the daddy seahorse?”

Jade froze mid step.

For once in his life, the ever composed Jade Leech was completely speechless. His eyes widened slightly as he stared down at his daughter. “…Could you repeat that, my dear?” he asked, voice still polite but just a touch strained, hoping he had simply misheard.

She repeated it cheerfully. “The teacher said boy seahorses give birth to the babies. And seahorses are fish, and you’re a fish too, Papa! So you must have given birth to me!”

Jade stood there in stunned silence for several long seconds. He had mentally prepared for many things as a father. The “where do babies come from” question had been on his list, neatly categorized with several age appropriate explanations ready. But this? Not even on the backup list.

He crouched down to her eye level, still maintaining his calm smile with impressive effort. “Humans and merfolk are not quite the same as fish, especially not seahorses.” he explained gently. “Our biology is rather different.”

His daughter tilted her head, blinking up at him with pure curiosity. “Why? Then how dose we do it?”

Jade opened his mouth… then closed it. For the first time in years, he found himself mentally unequipped. He could feel the beginning of a rare headache forming. Thankfully, salvation appeared just ahead.

“Ah!” Jade said smoothly, straightening up and pointing toward a colorful shop across the street. “Look at that. They have your favorite ice cream today. Would you like some?”

The distraction worked instantly. His daughter gasped in delight and the dangerous topic was (temporarily) forgotten as they went to get ice cream.

The next day, Azul came to visit, as he occasionally did. The two were chatting in the living room while your daughter played nearby. At one point, Azul mentioned with a small, proud smile

“Actually, my wife and I have been talking about having one more child.”

Before Jade could respond, his daughter looked up from her toys and said brightly. “So Uncle Azul is gonna give birth soon?”

The entire room went dead silent.

Azul’s teacup froze halfway to his mouth. His face went through several shades of color. Jade’s polite smile twitched dangerously at the corners.

“…I beg your pardon?” Azul asked weakly.

Jade cleared his throat, voice still perfectly polite but with a dangerous edge. “It seems my daughter has developed some… interesting theories after her aquarium trip.”

Your daughter nodded seriously. “Daddy seahorses give birth! And Uncle Azul is…”

Jade quickly stood up. “My dear, why don’t we go see if there’s more ice cream in the kitchen?” As he gently ushered his daughter out of the room, Jade glanced back at Azul with a serene yet terrifying smile.

“We will never speak of this again.”

Kalim Al Asim

It was one of those rare, perfectly peaceful afternoons in the Al-Asim household. No parties. No sudden guests. No emergencies. Just you and Kalim sitting on the mountain of colorful pillows scattered across the living room carpet, chatting about nothing important, how the new fountain in the garden looked, what the kids had drawn that morning, and how lucky you both felt to have such a lively family. Kalim eyes sparkled as he leaned in closer, a bright, affectionate smile on his face. He leaned closer playfully, already tilting his head to kiss you but before his lips could meet yours, a tiny boy burst into the room.

“NOOO!”

Your youngest son sprinted between the two of you and shoved Kalim chest with both little hands, pushing him back with surprising determination for a five year old. Then he immediately climbed into your lap and wrapped his arms tightly around your neck, glaring at his father. “Stay away from Mommy!”

You and Kalim both froze, staring at your son in shock.

“…Sweetie?” You gently patted his back, trying to understand. “What’s going on? Why did you do that?”

The little boy hugged you tighter, burying his face in your shoulder for a moment before turning to glare at Kalim again. “Daddy needs to stop!”

Kalim blinked, looking genuinely hurt and very confused. He had never once raised his voice or laid an angry hand on you. He couldn’t imagine what he’d done wrong.

“Me? What did I do, little treasure?” Kalim asked softly, tilting his head. “Did I make you upset?”

The boy pointed an accusing finger at his father. “You keep kissing Mommy! You have to stop! I don’t want more siblings!”

Both you and Kalim froze again. A long, heavy silence filled the room. You had to press your face into your son’s hair to hide how hard you were trying not to laugh. Kalim’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again.

“…Kissing?” he repeated, blinking rapidly. “Kissing doesn’t make babies, buddy. You don’t have to worry about that.”

The little boy looked at his father like he had just said the sky was green. His eyes started to glisten with frustrated tears. “But Uncle Jamil said kissing makes babies! And Uncle Jamil is really smart! He can’t be wrong!”

Kalim’s jaw dropped.

You finally lost the battle and let out a soft snort of laughter, quickly turning it into a comforting hum as you rocked your son gently. “Shh, it’s okay, baby. Everything’s alright. You’re not getting any more siblings right now. Daddy and I promise.”

The little boy sniffled, but your reassurance seemed to calm him. He stayed glued to your lap for a long time, occasionally shooting protective glances whenever your husband moved too close. Kalim just sat there, still looking stunned.

For the rest of that week, your son appointed himself the official “Kissing Guard.”

Every time Kalim tried to lean in for even a quick peck on your cheek, a tiny body would appear out of nowhere, pushing between you two with dramatic flair. “No kissing! No more brothers and sisters!”

Kalim took it with his usual good humor at first, laughing and ruffling the boy’s hair, trying to negotiate “just one little kiss” but by day four he was dramatically pretending to cry about being “banned from loving his wife.”

You eventually had to sit your son down again and explain that babies don’t appear just because people kiss. He listened, but still remained suspicious of any affection between you and Kalim for a while.

Rook Hunt

Rook was in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, preparing a beautiful lunch. Soft music played in the background as he chopped vegetables. His son walked in with an unusually serious expression on his small face, brows furrowed, lips pressed together, the very picture of a tiny dramatic boy.

Rook’s sharp eyes noticed immediately. He set down the wooden spoon and turned with a warm, attentive smile. “Why such a grave face? Come, tell your Papa what troubles you.”

The little boy stood straight, took a deep breath, and said with all the seriousness a five year old could. “Papa… I’m going to be a father.”

Rook had to use everything not to burst into delighted laughter right then and there. Instead, he crouched gracefully to his son’s eye level, tilting his head with fond curiosity. “Oh? And how did this wonderful event come to pass?”

The boy’s cheeks flushed bright red. He looked down at his shoes, mumbling shyly. “I… I kissed a girl on the cheek.”

Rook’s heart melted into a puddle of pure adoration. He let out a soft, warm chuckle and scooped his son up into his arms, spinning him once before hugging him close.

“Ah, how romantic! A kiss on the cheek is a truly beautiful and noble gesture. However!” he added gently, tapping his son’s nose. “I’m afraid such a sweet little kiss will not make babies.”

The boy blinked up at him, confused. “Why not?”

Rook smiled patiently. “It is a much more complicated and magical process, my son. You are still far too young for such things. When you are older, we can speak of it properly.”

The boy pouted a little, but his curiosity remained.

But Rook’s eyes still sparkled up with pride. “ Who is the lucky girl? Did you treat her like a princess? I certainly hope so! Tell me everything, my little hunter. What is her name? Did you bow properly when…”

The kitchen door opened.

You walked in holding your phone, one eyebrow raised. “Rook…” you said slowly. “why did Vil just called me asking why his daughter came home announcing that she’s going to have a baby… and that our son is the father?”

The room went silent.

Rook kept smiling, that perfect, dazzling smile, but his face slowly drained of all color until he looked almost ghostly pale.

For the first time in recorded history, Rook Hunt whispered

“…Fuck.”

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia was on the couch, peacefully flipping through a brand new cookbook, his eyes scanned the pages with interest when he heard the familiar tiny feet running. His daughter approached with sparkling eyes and a determined little bounce in her step.

Lilia immediately set the book aside, and scooped her up with a bright grin, settling her comfortably on his lap. “Well, well~ What brings my precious little batling to me with such shining eyes? Come, ask Papa anything!”

The little girl looked up at him seriously. “Papa… I have a question. It’s about babies.”

Lilia took a deep, theatrical breath and puffed out his chest with confidence. This was familiar territory. He had already survived this conversation once with Malleus and once with Silver. He was prepared. He would nail this one.

“Ask away, my dear! Papa knows everything!”

His daughter tilted her head. “Did I come from an egg?”

Lilia raised an elegant eyebrow. “An egg? Now why would you think that?”

“Because big brother Malleus said he came from an egg!”

Lilia’s smile faltered for half a second. He prayed internally that Malleus hadn’t gone into graphic detail about dragon hatching and mating rituals.

“Ah… I see. Well, no, my sweet. You did not come from an egg. Malleus is a dragon, so he hatched from one. But you, my darling girl, are different.”

His daughter nodded slowly, processing this new information. Then she looked up again with big, innocent eyes. “Did you find me in the woods?”

Lilia blinked. Twice. “…No?”

She pouted, crossing her little arms. “But big brother Silver told me you found him in the woods when he was a baby!”

Lilia let out a long, suffering sigh, rubbing his temple with one hand while still holding her with the other. “That… is a very different and rather complicated situation, my dear. I did not pick you up from the woods. You came here through the natural ways that babies usually arrive. If you’d like, I can explain it to you…”

Before he could continue, his daughter suddenly hopped off his lap. “Nope! That sounds boring!” she declared cheerfully. “I’m not interested anymore!”

And with that, she skipped away toward her toys, leaving Lilia sitting on the couch in stunned silence. He stared at the empty space where she had been, cookbook forgotten on the cushion beside him.

“…Boring?” he whispered, genuinely offended. “I was prepared to give her the whole speech!”Lilia slumped back dramatically. “Children these days have no appreciation for a well crafted explanation from an ancient fae…”