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Chapter Text

His cold gaze remained settled on the bassinet in front of him, staring at the slumbering occupant. 

The babe inside was a spitting image of him, dark hair, tanned skin, vibrant blue eyes. Just... smaller... and female. His gaze grew sad as he pulled out a photo of himself with darling you, all bright and lovely. 

And lost.

He had lost you to childbirth, his desperate pleas having fell on deaf ears. Kaeya felt that even the mourning dove left him and ignored him when he wept, unable to do anything when your hand went limp in his own. 

He stared at the photo, his eye going blank and glassy. 

What did you sound like again? What did sleeping next to you feel like again? He couldn't remember...

The babe stirred in her bed, whining a little bit at some discomfort. He immediately sprang up, tucking the photo away carefully before plucking the small child up. 

Is this what Master Crepus felt like when he raised Diluc without his wife to help? So helpless and lost, so clueless as to how to ensure his little one grew up well? He often asked Jean and Lisa for advice, wanting to ensure the best future for his child. But they often couldn't help.

His thoughts were destroyed by a small chubby hand, reaching up and touching his tired face. Kaeya looked down at his child, smiling sadly at her as she stared up at him, the same worry in her eyes that were often in your own. 

She cooed at him, her little noises filled with worry. He had to admit that she was most definitely a clever, smart little girl. 

"It's okay North..." he murmured, letting his forehead rest on the top of her small one. "I'll be a good dad... I promise... I promise I'll try. I will be the best dad you'll ever have. You're my little icicle... my little baby icicle."

A soft coo was the only response.

It broke the hearts of many to see a well respected and beloved man in Mondstadt, become utterly miserable, barely holding on, if only to save his little icicle. If only to protect his little North.

Chapter Text

You watched from the shadow of a tree, your gaze amused as you focused on that obvious head of flaming red hair running through the seemingly endless vines filled with grapes.

Squeals and giggling could be heard, mostly from your son as he fled the super scary monster named Dad. Arms outstretched in front of him, his own red hair pulled back into a very short ponytail, a grin on his sweet slightly chubby face, that was your son. Your precious little boy.

Diluc roared in a comical way as to not scare the child as he plucked him up from the ground, pretending to "eat him." Squeals and cries for help from his dear mother ensued.

"Mother nooooo! I'm dying! I've been captured!" he called, causing you to laugh as you got up, a hand resting on your swollen belly. You moved over to Diluc and your giggling son, smiling warmly at them both.

"It's almost time for your lessons with Lisa, Auster. I do hope you finished your work," Diluc told him, crouching down so he could talk with the little boy in front of him.

"I did finish my work father! I just hope I did it right..."

Diluc smiled lazily at Auster. "You'll do a great job today, I know you will." He ruffled the little boy's flaming red curls, messing them up once again. 

Auster beamed at him before running inside the manor. Diluc watched as his son vanished beyond the doors before turning to you. He grasped your chin, pressing his lips to yours in a tender loving kiss.

"You shouldn't be doing too much, dove. You know I'd hate to see you get hurt," Diluc whispered, loud enough for you to hear. 

You smiled at him. "I won't get hurt Diluc. I'll have you there to catch me won't I? Besides, it's not like I can do much with another member of the family on the way," you told him, running your hands over the swell of your stomach. 

Barbara had told you the baby was healthy and growing wonderfully. And you trusted the deaconess.

Diluc sighed lightly, wrapping his arms around you and resting his head on top of yours.

"I know... I know... I still can't help but worry for you and the little one. This family we have... it's my pride and my joy. Just as much as the winery is."

You settled back against him, enjoying the warmth his body radiated. 

"I love you, my dove."

"I love you too."

Chapter Text

He remained as quiet as he possibly could, hiding in the barrel, hiding from his dad. After all, they were playing hide and seek, and he had to be so quiet so he wouldn't get caught!

He clung to his tail, his small hands digging into the fur a little bit to prevent it from wagging and swaying of its own accord. It was a nuisance at times, especially during hide and seek since it tended to thump around and give him away. 

Footsteps sounded nearby, the boy going on high alert. Frozen, tail tensing, ears perking towards the sound to track it, he was ready, he was prepared! He held his breath as to not get caught, absolutely ready to flee if needs be-

And light flooded the barrel, turquoise eyes peering down at him. 

"Found you, Daiki," a male voice teased, a lupine smile on his face. 

Daiki looked up and pouted at his father, lifting his arms up in a silent request for help out of the barrel. Gorou reached in and plucked him up, lifting him out of the barrel.

"Up and over!" 

"Daaaaaaaad, why do you always find meeeeeeeeee!" Daiki pouted, ears flat against his head. Poor boy, he was always getting caught in the game.

Gorou pet his head a little bit, a hand on his hip as he sighed lightly. "Am I supposed to not find you? After all..." Gorou crouched down, grasping his son by his shoulders. "Your mother would be worried sick if I didn't find you. And I don't want to worry your sweet precious mother."

Daiki looked at his father, biting his lip and twiddling his thumbs. Gorou let his forehead lightly bump against his own, his hands cradling his cheeks. 

"You're my little pup, mk? I will always find you, even when it is dark and cold, and scary. I will find you. 

"Okay..." he mumbled, averting his face. "Can we play again papa?"

Gorou chuckled and nuzzled Daiki's head. 

"Alright, one last round but then we have to go back inside. Your mother is making your favorite."

Daiki perked up and grinned, his own tail wagging side to side happily. He ran off with his arms thrown out to the side, laughing.

Gorou sighed and shook his head before covering his eyes and slowly counting to 10.

Chapter Text

Itto stared up restlessly at the ceiling, his hands tucked behind his head. He occasionally glanced over at your sleeping form, ensuring you were still asleep before looking towards the bassinet that also occupied the room. He couldn't sleep, not entirely. Not when the fear of you and himself being driven out of the city like how his own parents were.

He even vaguely remembered hearing that they were killed. 

Arataki Itto. Left behind and abandoned so he could be protected whilst his mother and oni father were driven out.

Frowning, he got up and moved towards the cradle, a desire to protect and nurture settling over him. He peered inside at the slumbering babe, all swaddled in a blanket. He reached down and lovingly stroked the infant's white curls, wary of the nubs that were sure signs of horns poking through. 

The child seemed to have more oni in him than human. Just like himself. Itto had to wonder how much the oni instincts would override the human ones. 

His finger trailed down to the baby's chubby cheek, and he ran his finger back and forth, caressing the skin. The response was a chorus of sleepy coos and wiggling. 

"Hello small one. You're very precious to me. Both you and my mate. I don't know how I managed to get anywhere without you and my precious mate. But I won't let us be driven away..."

The babe opened his eyes, peering up at his father. He cooed, wriggling in his blanket. Itto smiled down warmly, adoration shining in his eyes. He remembered how much you and the child had cried when the child was born. You in pain, and the child in fright from the sudden cold. It hurt him everytime he thought of the memory, and he apologized profusely for it everytime. You always waved him off and told him it was worth it, but he always felt a little guilty. 

He brought you so much pain. 

A warm presence beside him snapped him from his thoughts. He turned his attention towards you, seeing you leaning against him sleepily. 

"I'm okay with the pain, Itto. That pain brought us our bundle of joy," you murmured, yawning as you lightly squeezed his bicep. You snuggled into him, seeking out warmth. He sighed lightly before hugging you tight. 

"I know... I know..." he whispered. That babe in the cradle was half of him. His own offspring. His child. And he planned to protect the infant till he could no more.

Chapter Text

Zhongli sat at his desk in the parlor, overlooking documents for another burial. He glanced over the files, seeing the same notes as usual before something caught his eye near the bottom of the paper. 

Died in childbirth. Left a daughter behind. Send the child to the orphanage.

There was a small picture of the babe attached, the babe staring into the kamera with intelligent eyes. She looked so sad, her large eyes wanting and yearning. They somehow pouted at him through the photo, causing a feeling of sadness to settle in his stone heart. 

He stared at the photo a few moments longer before coming to a decision. Zhongli wanted to adopt the child. It was probably a foolish idea, especially with his Mora habits, but he could work on it. And he really didn't do much besides a lot of paperwork and helped with arranging florals for burials, so he could easily bring the child with him everywhere.

He nodded to himself a few times. The babe would be about a year old now, especially since these papers were ones that had been poorly written up. He got up, shrugging his coat on.

Zhongli tugged his hair from out of the coat and let it settle behind him. He adjusted the lapels as he strode out the door, and ensured his gloves were in place as he walked briskly. He prayed that the babe hadn't been adopted yet, eagerness settling in his body. 

He came upon the orphanage, striding through the door. It was quiet and peaceful here, animals colored all over the walls. They were painted a warm happy white, offset by the dark wood floors. 

"Good morning Mr. Zhongli. How can I help you?" a sweet female voice called from beside him.

"I'm looking for a baby, she was brought here about a year ago and her mother died in childbirth... I was... I was wondering if I could adopt her."

"Oh you mean Lizabeth? I would suggest you watch over her for an hour... she's awful troublesome... most families that wanted to adopt her said that she was too much to handle."

He raised an eyebrow. "I'd still like to try."

The dark-haired woman nodded once. "Right this way, Mr. Zhongli."

She led him down a hall, her hair swaying in its braid. Zhongli listened closely, and he could hear children laughing and playing. 

"She's right in here Mr. Zhongli." 

The woman gestured to a door, the room behind it quiet. Zhongli nodded once before opening the door and peering inside. He immediately spotted the child over in the corner, quietly playing with a tower of wooden blocks. 

"Lizabeth tends to ignore and hit most people who try to play or pick her up. Just a warning..."

Zhongli moved over to the child, getting down and sitting by her. 

"Hello, little girl..."

She stared at him with intelligence in those eyes. They seemed to be judging him, staring right into his soul. She tilted her head a little bit before turning back to her blocks. He raised an eyebrow and picked one up before offering it to the infant. 

Lizabeth turned and stared at the block in his hand, her gaze traveling back to his face. She made one coo before moving to crawl into his lap. She curled up against him before taking the block in his hand and babbling. She wiggled a little bit on the floor. 

Zhongli took this as a good sign and attempted to pluck the child up. Lizabeth let out a startled noise, and stared at him again, but overall seemed to be fine with it. He pulled her close and held her against his body, observing her reaction.

She cooed, finding a sudden interest in the gem at his neck. She patted it and tugged on it a little bit before turning her attention to his earring. She swatted at it, giggling at how it tickled her hand and swayed back and forth. She swatted again, her giggling increasing. Lizabeth found it hilarious how it swayed back and forth, it was so interesting!

The worker looked at Zhongli in shock and awe. Lizabeth didn't hit him or outright ignore him!

"You like my earring, Lizabeth?" he asked, his voice a steady tone.

Lizabeth looked at Zhongli and cooed in agreement, patting his face. Zhongli looked to the worker and nodded once.

"I'd like to adopt this child."

"Just sign the documents. You can take her. Without paying. You're the first one she's liked," the worker said, holding out a clipboard. "I'll pack her things and send it to your home."

He nodded again, smiling as he signed the documents that the worker held out to him. 

"You can take her right now if you'd like."

Zhongli regarded the babe in his arms as she stared at him, cooing. She had so much intelligence in her eyes, they shined with a secret cleverness. 

Cloud Retainer would like her, that was for sure. 

Zhongli smiled. "I'll take her."

Even though she wasn't of his own flesh and blood, he loved her dearly. She was adopted. But his.

Chapter Text

The sound of snow hitting snow was all too evident in his ears. He remained ducked behind the wall of snow that he had built up as a voice taunted him from the other side.

"Come on dad! Where's that fighting spirit mama told me about?" 

Childe rolled his eyes and shook his head lightly at his son's words. He made a snowball and tossed it up and down in his hand as he peered over the top of the wall, spotting his son's mop of ginger hair before throwing it. 

A startled yelp reached his ears as he laughed, his eyes closing. It was ended abruptly when a snowball hit him square in the face. It was the little boy's turn to giggle. Childe blinked away the snow, sputtering and shaking his head. He glanced towards his son as he smirked. 

"Oh you asked for it," he remarked, giving the boy a dark smile. The child grinned and threw another snowball, once again hitting his father in the face. Childe sputtered, blinking the snow from his eyes. He drew his ocean-eyed gaze towards the giggling little boy before chasing after him. 

The child squealed and laughed, fleeing through the snowy wasteland and towards the solitary cabin, towards the safety of his mother. Childe purposely remained a little slower, but close enough to be deemed enough of a fictional threat to the boy. After all, the boy loved being chased by his father, it was a simple, pure hearted game. 

"I'm gonna catch you Igor! I'm gonna catch you!" he taunted, hands out in front of him in the imitation of claws. Igor looked behind him and shrieked, running faster. 

"Mommyyyy! Daddy's gonna catch me and eat meeeeee!" he yelled, the cabin growing closer. 

Childe watched as your head popped out of the doorway, raising an eyebrow at your son's antics. He grinned at your exasperated head shake, watching as you stepped fully into the door way. The scent of beef stroganoff reached his nose, faint but there. He quickly observed you to see if you were alright, praying that the newest addition to your family didn't decide to be born then and there. He didn't see any signs of pain on your face, so he breathed a little easier. 

He slid to a stop as Igor ducked behind your legs, sticking out his tongue at his father. He faked a pout and pretended to faint.

"Ooooh no! I lost my prey to his mother! I've been killed by mother bear! Oooooooh..... noooooo...." he let his voice grow weak as he reached for the sky, and then let his arm flop onto the snow as he dramatically pretended to die. 

Igor giggled before being ushered inside by gentle nudges of your hands. You stepped down towards Childe and sighed, shaking your head.

"Ever so dramatic, Ajax."

He cracked open an eye and looked at you, a hand on your hip. Childe sat up, brushing the snow from his hair. With a grunt he got up, easily towering over you. 

Sometimes you forgot how tall your husband was. You peered up at him, observing his pink face. 

"If I wasn't pregnant with our second child, and if somebody didn't insist he do everything himself, I'd be marching right over to your mother and begging her to babysit both you and Igor for a night."

He pouted. "Am I really that childish, my dear tulip?" 

You sighed and rolled your eyes. "Your codename is literally Childe with an E at the end, yes, you really are that childish." 

He laughed merrily and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, heading inside with you in tow. 

"But that's what makes me so lovable! After all, it's my childishness that won your heart, brought us Igor, and our unborn child," he remarked, quite smug and proud of himself. 

You hummed in agreement with a slight hint of sarcasm before standing on your toes to kiss his cheek. 

Childe couldn't ask for more than what he already had.

Chapter Text

Stacks and stacks of paperwork loomed on his desk, threatening to drown himself and his office if he wasn't careful. He began to regret taking some of Jean's load, but if it meant she'd sleep easier, then he supposed this suffering was worth it. 

Kaeya groaned and rubbed at his face, tired and absolutely done with more than half of the paperwork. No wonder Grand Master Varka left if this is what he dealt with. 

The door to his office opened, a small head of dark blue hair bounding through the doorway. He glanced up, raising an eyebrow before looking to the side to indeed spot a smaller version of him. Kaeya grinned at the little girl, patting his lap in invitation. 

She grinned and climbed onto his lap, staring at the paper.

"Papa, what's with all the papers?" she chirped, turning her attention to him. 

"Ah, Papa decided to help Jean with her paperwork and she dumped all of this on me. Now, what are you doing here, North? Did Momma tell you to come here?" he questioned, glancing at the little girl on his lap. 

She wriggled her legs, swinging them back and forth as she couldn't reach the floor. 

"Yep! Momma said you forgot your lunch again," she remarked, holding up a brown paper bag. 

Color flushed his cheeks as Kaeya laughed, plucking the bag from North's grip. 

"I suppose I did forget my lunch. Thank you, little icicle."

North puffed up her cheeks, her sweet face round and chubby. 

"Don't forget your lunch again, Papa. Momma just about had a heart attack when she noticed you left it behind again."

Kaeya ducked his head. "Guilty as charged, North."

He imagined the sight of you panicking at the forgotten lunch, a small smile drifting onto his face. 

"North?"

"Yes papa?"

"Run along home now. Papa will be home in a few hours."

Chapter Text

"Daaaaad, can I try sweeping?"

Thoma looked behind him from his chore, spotting a little boy with emerald eyes and light mousy brown hair. 

"Sorry little tyke, the broom might be a little too heavy for you," Thoma told his son, ruffling his hair. 

The little boy puffed his cheeks out at his father. "I can sweep, father! I wanna try!"

Thoma hummed. "Perhaps you could help me instead, alright?"

His son stared him down, eyes narrowing. He stared, and stared until nodding the grabbing the bottom of the broom handle, the same broom his father held. The little boy had the cutest little grin plastered on his chubby face, looking immensely proud of himself. 

Thoma grinned right back, starting to sweep dust into the dust pan. The little boy giggled, looking up at his father. 

"I want my own broom!"

"Alright. I'll see if I can get you one of your own."

The child grinned in triumph.

Chapter Text

He was over 6,000 years old.

He was both a God and an Adeptus, and despite having such titles on him... he didn't know if he was good enough. Good enough to gain the title of "father."

Zhongli paced back and forth, well on his way to wearing a hole in the wooden floor of the infirmary at Bubu Pharmacy, it being the only place he could immediately think of, and the closest place when you had shaken him from slumber that morning. He remembered how he'd almost unleashed his draconian form to get you here quicker, but a hiss from you and he discarded the notion, running out the door with you in his arms. 

And thus led to him pacing endlessly. 

He desperately wanted to be in there with you, but Baizhu had told him to wait outside cause there were far too many risks and variables, especially with Morax, the side of him that was made of pure, utter wrath and anger and hate and pure dragon, opening an eye deep inside. And the last thing that needed to happen was for Zhongli to go berserk and be consumed by Morax and utterly destroy Liyue Harbor in an effort to protect his crying mate. 

Zhongli heard vague words being spoken to you as you cried out in pain, your quiet, faint sobs reaching his ears. His chest ached, his heart burned hearing such sounds. He found himself clutching at his shirt, his coat having been abandoned on a nearby chair in the narrow hallway. Why did it hurt him so much to hear you be in pain?

"Xiansheng, you're going to end up going to the Abyss with how much you're pacing," drawled a male voice belonging to a certain redheaded Snezhnayan man. 

"I know I know, I'm just worried..." Zhongli's gaze slid to the Fatui Harbinger as he paused his pacing in front of the door. It was so quiet suddenly...

He whipped his head towards the door, panic settling in his gut as he strained his ears, listening for anything, anything to tell him all was okay and-

Faintly there, in the background, he could barely hear it. Tears welled up in his golden eyes as he listened to the soft gentle wails of a newborn baby. The babe sounded... so scared... so lost. His fists clenched as he restrained himself from opening the door and practically imitating a mother hen fussing over her chicks. He clenched his jaw. He was going to knock down this door if he wasn't let in right this instant-

Baizhu opened the door, a weary smile on his face as those cries were slowly silenced. 

"You're welcome to go in, but please don't overwhelm your wife and child, Mr. Zhongli." 

Baizhu stepped out of the way as Zhongli ran forward with his arms outstretched, desperation in his gait as he strode for where you lay in a cot, the babe in your arms as you held the small child to your breasts. 

The infant suckled, all cries silenced. 

You looked up at Zhongli and smiled. 

"You'll be proud to know you have a little girl, Zhongli," you whispered. "Your little Liling." 

He fell to his knees as he gazed at the small life in your arms, weeping when that same small life wiggled in your arms, wiggled in the bundle of blankets that kept that babe warm. 

"Zhongli... would you like to hold her?" you asked him, looking at him with a gentle smile. He nodded, stifling his tears as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, carefully cradling Liling in his arms. 

The baby wiggled, prying open her little eyes. Golden hues stared right back at him, gently framed by the telltale signs of scales. He looked into the little brown curls already on her small head, spotting the little nubs of horns that were sure to grow in. 

Ah his child. Already damning him to questions from his peers and city folk with the obvious signs of Adeptal parentage. 

He smiled and kissed her forehead, recieving a little joyful wiggle in return. 

"Hello Liling... I'm your father, little one..." he smiled as he teared up, as he brought the babe to sleep on his shoulder. The room was quickly filled with Liling's soft snores, already tuckered out. 

"And you said you weren't going to be a good enough father," you mused, yawning and leaning against him. 

Zhongli lightly rolled his eyes, smiling down at you. 

"I'll do my best to be a good father to our child."

He didn't take notice of the Fatui Harbinger in the doorway, his arms crossed and folded as he smiled lazily at the small family. 

The Harbinger left after a few moments, a smile on his face.

Chapter Text

Diluc trudged through the main floor of the manor, his claymore heavy in his grip. His body ached with bruises and a few areas were cut. Some were worse than others, but, at least nothing vital had been hit. 

"Ah yes. The mighty, triumphant Darknight Hero returns from saving Mondstadt once again, returning to his beloved wife's arms. Good thing I'm awake to tend to your injuries," you snarked at him, hand on your hip as you nursed a cup of mint tea. You'd read somewhere it was good for nausea and morning sickness, which you indeed were stricken with. 

He flinched at hearing your voice coming from the kitchen, his attention going to you. Diluc's gaze drifted downwards, down to where he knew his child grew safe and sound, the small swell of the baby bump barely visible. 

"Hello my dear..." Diluc murmured, extremely tired from fighting off an Abyss Mage. It had to have been Pryo that night. And only his brute strength had broken that shield. 

You sighed, placing your cup down as you rushed forward, your hands bracing themselves on his biceps. "Diluc, I love you dearly and I trust you, but you scare me each time I wake up and you're not in bed with me. What if one day you never come back?"

Guilt struck a cord in him. "I'm sorry love. I'll be more careful from now on," he whispered, placing the heavy weapon down by the fireplace, coming forward and taking your hands into his. 

He placed a soft kiss on your nose and forehead, letting you tug him into the kitchen to get his injuries tended to. 

"I hope you are more careful, Diluc. Even with all the maids in the manor, I'm not sure I'll be able to raise this child on my own."

He smiled, just a bit. "I'm sure the maids would be happy to have another child running about the house to take care of. Especially the older ones."

"You and Kaeya must've been a riot to take care off, always running off here and there, coming back with dirt smudged on your faces and triumphantly with fistfuls of crystal cores from poor unsuspecting crystalflies," you mused. "Especially if they're both excited and dreading the little one."

Diluc smiled. Just the tiniest bit. Deep down... he missed those days. He missed the days where he and Kaeya were thick as thieves, brothers till the very end. At least... that's what they had been. So very long ago. It felt like centuries had passed. And yet it had only been 5 years. 

He looked at your face as you tended to the gash on his bicep, each touch and swipe of the rag in your hands stinging just the smallest bit. He reigned back his winces and grunts, his ruby gaze sliding back down. 

Diluc's heart skipped a beat as he gazed at the slight swell. It always made him both proud, and worried, seeing you. Proud to call you his wife, and worried for your safety and health. Especially with a baby on the way. 

His firstborn. 

Would the child be a little boy? Or would the child be a little girl? Either way, he was happy, but he couldn't help but think of days spent chasing after crystalflies, of days playing in the dirt. He might be an adult now... but... he wanted to play with his child. Would the babe inherit his flaming red hair, as all children of the Ragnvindr line seemed to inherit, no matter how hard one would try?

He didn't know. And that was okay.

"Diluc?" 

Your voice coaxed him back into reality, and he looked up at you with burning cheeks. 

"Sorry love. I was just thinking..."

Your lips curled into a smile as you lay a hand on your belly, patting the skin with a few fingers. 

"I know," you whispered, going back to stitching up the worst of his injuries. "You'll be a good father, Diluc. Even if you don't believe it. I know you will be."

"How...?"

"For one, you go out every night and destroy threats to Mondstadt's safety and peace. If that's not a protective father, I don't know what is." 

A snip sounded as you finished, your hands now wrapping a bandage around the stitched wound. You looked up at him and cupped his cheek, running your thumb across his cheekbone. 

"I do not doubt for second that you will go down defending our family, Diluc. I know you'd rather die then let our little one get hurt. You will be a wonderful father."

He let out a shaky breath as he leaned into your hand, his own trembling as they settled around your waist. "Promise?"

You only smiled.

•••••••••••••••

Diluc huffed as he put the quill down, words swimming around his brain as he tried and failed to focus on the paperwork in front of him. If this was what Kaeya dealt with whenever he helped Jean out, then his obsession with drinking made sense. 

Yet he knew that was not why Kaeya drank. Not one bit. However it was not his story to tell. 

He rubbed his temples, closing his eyes. 

A soft laugh came from behind as hands grasped at his shoulders.

"Diluc, you're about to give Acting Grandmaster Jean a run for her money," you mused, a small smile at your lips. 

Diluc looked up at your face, offering a weak smile in return. "I have all of these business offers and they're all so wordy and long..."

You moved in front of him, kissing his temples as he pulled you onto his lap. He tucked his head under the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. Eyes sliding shut, he mumbled incoherent nothings against your skin as his hands lay across the swell of your stomach. 

"When's the baby coming, I'm getting impatient," he mumbled, running his gloved hands in idle circles.

You laughed. "Any day now. Any day now."

He huffed again, holding you as close as he could. "I can't wait anymore, it's been too long."

Chapter Text

"Papa! I'm scared!" cried a female child, eyes wide and afraid as she sat on a saddled pony. The pony did not compare to the massive black beast beside Kaeya, the black beast huffed and tossed his head, hoofing at the ground. 

"Don't be little icicle. They can tell when their rider is afraid, and so they will be afraid too. Relax... you'll be all right." He placed a hand on her head, pulling her hair into a low ponytail and braiding it. His fingers ran through those blue-strands, so much like his own, braiding with care. "I'm right here and always will be. Besides, you wanted to learn how to ride a horse did you not? It will be okay, I promise."

"Okay... how do I go?" 

Kaeya chuckled as he tied the ends of the braid off, letting it fall on her back. 

"I'll guide the reins for now, alright? Until you get used to it." He grasped the reins with a gloved hand, moving in front of the pony and lightly pulling. The pony followed, the child wide-eyed and clinging to the saddle. Around the courtyard they went, around once, twice, thrice, until the little girl wanted to try. 

Kaeya smiled softly and handed the reins over, showing her how to tell the pony to turn, and how to be gentle. She listened eagerly, nodding a few times before nudging the horse forward with a gentle tap of her foot. The pony sputtered into motion, walking slowly and leisurely. 

"Papa, I'm doing it, I'm doing it!" she squealed, eyes wide with pure excitement. She was doing something! She could ride a horse! 

He grinned. "Try and go faster." 

Sticking her tongue out in concentration, she urged the horse into a trot. Bouncing in the saddle, she giggled as the pony moved forward, hooves clopping on the stone. The sound echoed in the courtyard, along with the joyful giggling. 

"Papa! I wanna see you ride," she chirped, pulling on the reins lightly to get the horse to stop. 

"Oh?"

"Do it papa!"

Kaeya chuckled and turned to the black stallion that stood there, staring with those equally dark eyes. He held out a hand and the stallion came over to him, huffing laying it's nose in his hand. He ran his fingers down in a petting motion, smiling. 

"You ready to ride hard and fast? We will get to do that once we leave the courtyard, alright?"

The horse huffed. 

"Think you can ride your pony outside the courtyard, icicle?"

The girl nodded, eyes shining and eager to see her own father ride. Kaeya smiled and mounted the stallion, urging the horse into a canter. With the girl following, they passed through the gate and into the same open field, the sun beaming down on them. 

"Go papa! Go!" 

With a triumphant shout, Kaeya urged the stallion into a hard gallop, the stallion shooting through the field. Nothing more than a dark blur. 

The stallion raced down the field, great lungs bellowing and working hard, heaving and keeping that mighty warhorse in motion. Muscles flexed and relaxed, hooves hit the ground in a mighty beat, the beat of battle and war. The wind sung in his ears, the sun beaming down on the King with the Princess following behind, the pony trying to keep up.

It was a sight you would never forget.

The King riding into battle, riding on the Harbinger of Death and Destruction, on the Harbinger of Hell, with his little Princess following on the small, but hopeful Harbinger of Life.

Chapter Text

It would be sufficient enough to say the ever so familiar phrase, like father like son. 

One could hear Itto's wail of defeat as he was beaten yet again by his 4 year old son in an Onikabuto battle, the wail accompanied by insane childish giggling, the giggles of course belonging to the little oni child. 

"Aw maaaaaan! You beat me again Haruki!" Itto cried, panicking over his flipped upside down Onikabuto. 

Haruki giggled at his father, grinning from ear to ear. Small red horns curled from the white mop on his own head, essentially a smaller version of the full grown Oni in front of him.

Itto sulked as he gave the candy that had been betted on to the child, Haruki giggling as he opened the candy and popped it in his mouth.

Itto's pouting and sulking was a common sight to most passerby on the streets, especially the locals of that district. To those that didn't pass through this particular district often, it was an odd sight to see such a big hulking man, packing muscles upon muscles, sulking over losing a bug battle. It was childish yes, but that was what made Itto a lovable brute. Especially amongst the kids. 

Most adults spent their time working and actually doing things, while Itto simply liked to play. And kids do nothing better than playing.

As Haruki happily demanded another round of bug fighting from his father, Itto let out an exasperated groan.

"Dawwwwww, you'll beat me again, Haruki!"

The little Oni giggled. "You don't know that papa."

From the shadows a green-haired female watched with an amused eyeroll, keeping both eyes on the pair on Oni's, lest Itto's mate come down swinging with the newest Arataki member clinging to her leg.

The woman could be terrifying, the gang would know that first hand. Perhaps Itto's mate was more terrifying than Kuki Shinobu herself. It was often a daily topic, especially when Haruki wasn't present. 

Kuki stifled a laugh as Itto hollered at another defeat, Haruki looking proud of himself. The little boy's giggles permeated the air as Itto bemoaned his 77th loss that day. 

She doubted the losing streak would be broken. Even as another loss added to the tally.

Chapter Text

He was quite used to having extreme bad luck. 

It was just a part of him at this point. 

Especially at 22. However, the streak seemed to be going away the more you came into his life. First a shy, hesitant girlfriend he loved to death and always tried to give flowers to, (they always died, even if he freshly picked them 5 minutes earlier,) then the adoring fiance, and suddenly his wife. 

It seemed to happen so quickly, but in truth, it took him forever to muster the courage to ask for your hand in marriage. And now, well, he can do nothing but stare in both wonder and fear at the bassinet in front of him, the occupant within slumbering. 

What if the baby inherited his bad luck? What if he accidentally killed the little one by tripping on air or the tiniest pebble? What if he was a horrible father in general? 

His leg bounced as his thoughts consumed him as he tried to calculate how to possibly protect the little one from his piss poor luck. He closed his green eyes, sighing to himself, not finding the energy to be optimistic. 

This was a life, an innocent little life he had in front of him. One he had helped create. And while he was grateful for the baby... there was still a lot of fear that settled along him. He only wanted the best for the child. 

Standing up, he reached in nervously and caressed a chubby cheek, marveling at the soft skin that met his fingers. The babe stirred a little bit, almost leaning into the touch. 

"Bennett?" you called to him softly. "Dinners ready. I made your favorite."

The male glanced to find you there, watching him with soft, kind eyes. Those eyes always saw the good in him. And dismissed his poor luck. He smiled. 

"I'm coming. Just give me a moment."

Footsteps neared as your hands settled on his shoulders, palms pushing into the muscle and chasing away aches from adventuring. 

"You'll do a wonderful job at raising our little one with me. Your luck means nothing to me. You could be the luckiest man on the planet, or you could be the average guy. I'd still love you for you regardless. After all, you're quite lucky too. You have friends and family who love you, and well, you're still alive. That's what matters."

He looked back to find you smiling at him. 

"You know what? You're right. I'm lucky to have my family."

Chapter Text

He stared off blankly into the sunset, the ocean turning a violent orange in the light. The wind picked up, tossing his hair and obscuring his view. The indigo-haired male didn't bother with moving his hair, didn't seem to care that his hair was in his face. 

Footsteps sounded behind him, a soft voice calling him by name, his real name. The vessel turned to find a child wandering towards him, her small chubby hands reaching for him. He tossed his long hair over his shoulder as he bent down to pluck up the child, his own glassy eyes staring at the vessel in his arms. 

Like the Shogun, he had created a vessel to solve the problem of loneliness. Why he had created a child was beyond him, it had just happened. Unlike the Shogun forcing him to retain his youthful face, he gave the child the ability to actually grow and age. She would stop aging when she hit 24, but for now, the puppet could quietly enjoy her company. Could quietly enjoy a mockery of a father-daughter relationship. 

Even without a "mother" figure. That could perhaps come later. But for now, the vessel was content with the child now dozing in his arms, even as he watched the sun sink beyond the horizon, the permanently full moon rising slowly behind him. He let his free hand ensure his katana was still in its sheath, nodding to himself when it was still there. 

The otherwise silent night was disturbed by the child's soft snores, but he didn't mind. It was comforting to know he had someone with him. Someone to follow him. After all, the child trailed after him everywhere he went. 

Footsteps sounded behind him, the familiar delicate whine of a blade leaving its sheath following them. He turned and found rogue samurai, all of them eager for blood. Especially his blood. 

The puppet looked at the little one in his grasp. "Sorry little one. I hope this won't disturb you."

He raised his own katana, admiring the cursed gleam of the metal. 

"I was left behind to die. May you suffer the same treatment I did."

Chapter Text

Ayato gazed out towards the endless ocean, the salty breeze rustling his hair and clothes. He closed his eyes, silently enjoying the moment of silence when Thoma called out for him worriedly.

"My Lord, your wife! She's giving birth!"

Ayato's eyes snapped open as he whirled, shock glancing over his face before it settled. "She's not due for another month... I'm surprised."

Thoma, panting as he sucked in whatever oxygen he could, breathless, "The maids are working to properly handle the situation, however, your heir is being born as we speak."

At those words, the Yashiro commissioner moved with haste, darting inside the estate, his flight guided by the pained cries of his beloved. His poor beloved wife, who had captured his heart long ago, and the bringer of his little heir... he could think of losing either one. To lose his heir would be devastating to both him and his wife, but to lose his wife would be devastating to him and his heir... to lose both... no, he could not think of it. 

Ayato dared not think of losing both of his new family. 

He found his wife laying in bed, nurses surrounding her on all sides, some with cold rags to cool her burning face. 

"Aya..." his beloved cried, her sentence halted by a groan of pain. Ayato moved forward and knelt by her side, taking her hand and kissing her temple.

"I'm here now my love. I'm here."

She wearily looked towards him, pain glittering in her eyes. "S-Stay... Ayato... stay..." she whispered, desperation lacing each word. 

"I'll stay my love. I'll stay."

-----------------------

Thunder boomed and cracked nearby, lightning lighting up the grave in front of him just for a moment. The Kamisato heir placed a hand on the letters carved into the stone, whispering to the bundle in his arms. The infant inside the bundle reached out and touched the wet stone with him too, not knowing who lay 6 feet below. 

"My heir... my precious little heir... I can only be grateful... that I did not lose you too."

He bowed his head, almost wishing he could feel the rain pelt him, but his retainers refused to let him do so. After all, they couldn't properly take care of a baby. 

As the rain continued to pour, innocent blue hues stared at the wet stone, still ignorant to the woman who had only died days ago. 

Beloved wife of the Kamisato Heir

Beloved of the people

Beloved Mother

"Ayato, take care of our child. Our precious cherry blossom, will undoubtedly become a beautiful sakura tree."

Chapter Text

He wrinkled his nose at the humidity of the rainforest, at how it seemed to cling to his skin and clothes. Grumbling under his breath he moved into the rainforest, the towering trees above devouring the sunlight, leaving little to no rays to reach the foliage below. 

Not that he entirely cared. He never understood the meaning of having life, of there being life in the first place. He never quite fit in with the rest of them in the first place. He was... too hidden. Emotions were fickle, logic the only thing that made sense. Any and all attempts to blend in were in vain, there was always something different about him, something that threw people off. He could do nothing but accept it and move on. 

Maybe piss a few people off along the way. He didn't care for being hated, he was used to it. Hated by peers and subordinates, fellow countrymen... it didn't matter. It was just how his life was. 

A tent within the forest caught his eye, the silence of it disturbing. A curious feeling settled over him as his eyes darted to the encampment and the way he was originally wandering before giving up and embracing his curiosity. 

He approached the sole tent that was still standing and peeled apart the flaps, hearing soft breathing and the occasional whimper. Raising an eyebrow, he moved forward, the flap closing behind him. His vision lit the space with a dim light as he approached a small bundle on the ground. He crouched down, reaching for it and pulling it apart carefully. The bundle fell apart at his touch, the blankets unwrapping to reveal a slumbering babe. 

The infant began to whine, hunger settling on the abandoned baby. Soon the child began to cry, tears rolling down the baby's chubby cheeks. Panicking, he plucked up the child, carefully bouncing the baby to try and soothe the wailing child. He received a chorus of quieting whines and cries, the babe opening their eyes to reveal blue hues lighter than his own. They whined, pleading for food with their eyes. 

He looked around the tent, hoping that there was something that could possibly be safe for the baby to eat. He almost looked helpless as he tried to figure out what to do. 

As carefully as he could, he created a makeshift carrier using his own clothing, the carrier keeping the baby close to his body. He checked and double checked to make sure the infant was snug and secure before beginning a careful search for something to feed the child. 

He didn't know what to do with a baby, much less what they ate. Sure he might have interacted with children once or twice, but they were older, not a newly hatched fledgling. Not as new as the little one that currently snuggled into his body, attempting to steal whatever warmth he had to offer. 

However his search was in vain, there was nothing left behind that a toothless babbling babe would be able to eat safely. He clenched his jaw as he glanced down to check to see if the child was still okay. 

Seeing the baby look up at him, he knew he had to get back to the city, get to the Bimarstan, and ask if any of the doctors or nurses there could give him some advice. They had to know something right?

-------------

He knew that he would get baffled looks from the doctors and nurses, even when he explained that the child, confirmed to be a little girl by the nurses, had been abandoned in an Eremite camp in the rainforest. Why she had been abandoned, he had not a clue. 

But what he did know was that anxiety, an odd, foreign feeling, coursed through his body as he waited for them to finish ensuring the baby was healthy. 

He perked up when a nurse came by with a happily babbling baby girl, news of the baby's health being normal and a safe level giving him relief. He stretched his arms out to take the wriggling bundle of joy, the baby beaming at seeing him. 

He allowed the barest of smiles to cross his face as he held the infant close. The nurse then proceeded to hand him a list on a piece of paper, it listing a few tips on taking care of the little fledgling, which foods were safe, which ones weren't, and more information than he could handle at that moment. At least the Bimarstan was kind enough to get the infant some food in her stomach so she was full and happy for a long while, long enough for him to collect the necessary materials for properly taking care of her. 

Whilst he didn't know a lot on being a parent, he could only pray he was a better parent than the one who had given him life in the first place. 

At least he thought he was doing a better job than his own parent. He had to be, after all, the baby liked clinging to his leg whenever he cooked. Admittedly his dishes were a little outlandish, but then again, he always was an outlander, even in his home country. 

Even though it was a lonely life, being a complete outsider to everyone else, he figured that his newly found daughter would keep him company for a while, enough to help him feel less alone. 

-------------

"Papa! Papa! Look look! Teacher Tighnari showed me how to make a bookmark out of a flower!"

He turned to the chirping four-year-old at his feet, her proud beaming face holding up a book with a flattened flower in between the pages. He couldn't help the smile that spread on his face. 

"That's my girl."

Chapter Text

Being the General Mahamatra was already stressful enough as it was. 

From chasing down scholars who dared break the rules, to apprehending criminals from rogue Eremites to reckless Fatui, there was no end to the long line of names of people to catch. It was akin to being a bounty hunter, without the bounty. 

The stress only piled on top of him even more as he left his son in the hands of the Forest Ranger, Tighnari. Would his son cause trouble? Would his son wander off? Would Tighnari feed the poor boy hallucination causing mushrooms? 

It wasn't that he didn't trust Tighnari, no, he trusted the fennec fox with his life, but he wasn't sure what his son would do. Gandharva Ville was a massive change of scenery from Sumeru City and the Akademiya. 

He rubbed at his face and gripped his pole arm tight as he strode for the Ville, already searching for the telltale sign of unruly white curls. It had been a week since he'd last seen his son.

He heard Collei nervously trying to dissuade someone from boiling a frog alive, and he sighed immediately. That was something his child would do.

"Lakhabir, don't give poor Collei a stressful day," he scolded lightly, earning the attention of red eyes as he rounded the corner of a pile of crates. 

"Abba!" (Authors Note: Hebrew for Father, I thought it would've been cute)

The boy came toddling over, the frog in his hands being set free. Lakhabir jumped into Cyno's outstretched arms, already rambling about the new things he'd learned about mushrooms and flowers. Cyno listened attentively, nodding along and asking the occasional question. It gave Collei enough time to scatter and find Tighnari. 

"Did you know that mushrooms are not living and living at the same time? Oh and that they're really hard to classify into the plant group because of how weird they are?"

Cyno was intelligent himself but when it came to mushrooms... he wanted to give up. There was a reason he left those to Tighnari, the mushroom eater. Tighnari ate whatever mushroom he could get his hands on, regardless of the side effects. 

"I didn't know this, can you tell me more?"

Lakhabir immediately launched into a spiel about mushrooms and their different properties, spouting off names and if they were safe for humans to eat or not. In the back of his mind, Cyno thought to himself, "Tighnari's a better teacher than the Akademiya."

Well. Probably a better teacher when it came to the rain forest. 

"Oh yeah, guess what Abba!"

"Hm?"

"I wanna be a Forest Ranger like Tighnari and Collei!"

"May Lesser Lord Kusanali have mercy on their souls."

Chapter Text

Alhaitham had his nose tucked into a book, the words floating off the page and forming thoughts in his mind. Most would call him a neglectful father, but that was further from the truth. 

For once the Scribe had his headset off, the earpieces snug around his throat as he kept an eye on his toddling five-year-old daughter, the child chasing after a poor butterfly. Unlike most people, he could multitask. He turned a page over, glancing upwards and focusing on the silver-haired child as she stared at the butterfly that had flown out of reach. She pouted, fisting her little white and green dress (courtesy of Nahida.) 

He chuckled, slipping a bookmark in between the pages as he got up. 

"Did the butterfly fly away?"

At the sound of her father's voice, she looked up at him, tears lining her turquoise eyes. 

"I wanted to catch it..." she murmured. 

The Scribe knelt down, opening his hand. A green butterfly sat in his palm, Dendro energy pulsing from it. He watched as the little girl's eyes lit up excitedly as she stared, hands coming to carefully cradle around the butterfly. She did a little happy dance, mostly stomping her small feet over and over and bouncing around. 

It made Alhaitham proud to see his child treat a creature he'd made with his vision with as much care as she could muster. 

"Thank you Abba! I'm going to take good care of this butterfly!" she determined, raising her hands up to the sun. She grinned like a gremlin, giggling when the reflective mirrors that made up the wings gleamed. 

"I'm going to name it... Shiny!"

Alhaitham lightly rolled his eyes at the thoroughly cliche name, but he pat her head nonetheless. "I'm proud of you, Fazluna."

She beamed brightly, showing off her babyish grin, already missing a tooth.

"Thank you Abba!"

Chapter Text

Tighnari had long believed that his fellow beast-kin had all but vanished. Or became so reclusive that they were considered extinct. So when he had taken a female of his kind to wife, he wasn't expecting the news, the news that would set him on edge, especially around humans. 

It's not that he distrusted them, no, he lived and roamed amongst them quite comfortably. But when she had dropped that she'd gotten pregnant with his kits, he recognized that he had grown far more anxious around humans. That anxiety had only grown when his mate gave birth to not one, not two, but rather four small kits. Such a number would be near impossible for a human woman, but his mate was just like him. Another fox. 

From being outside almost all day, Tighnari had gone to being inside almost all day, his attention taken by the need to ensure that his mate and kits were safe. His species was already rare enough as it was. 

When a knock sounded at the doorway to his solitary hut in Gandharva Ville, he whirled towards the sound, bow already in hand as he moved in front of his small family. 

"Tighnari? As far as "Cyno," it's highly unlike you to not be outside. It's rather concerning that you haven't been "Collei"-ing for help."

Tighnari's ears went flat as he rolled his eyes and groaned, the bow vanishing. "Cyno, why must you keep up with these incessant puns..."

"It was either that, or I got shot by a protective father."

The Mahamatra stepped into view, immediately gaining the interest of the little kits. They bounded over, ears twitching, tails swaying, eyes full of wonder and awe. Tighnari stammered and debated between passing the kits to their mother or letting them interact with Cyno. 

Cyno crouched down and ruffled what little hair they had on their heads, receiving giggles in return. 

"It's good to see you're protective of them, Tighnari. I talked with Lesser Lord Kusanali yesterday and it's seems your kinds numbers have only plummeted."

To this Tighnari sighed, closing his eyes. His ears drooped at the thought that one day, his species would indeed go extinct. Their genetic compatibility with humans was iffy at best, dangerous at worst, so mingling with humans wouldn't save them. It never would. 

"Go outside for a little bit. Go on patrol," Cyno urged, red eyes staring the fennec fox down.

Tighnari opened his mouth to protest against the idea, but he was quickly shot down by the withering glare he received from his friend.

"If you're so worried about the kits, I can stay here and watch them. They seem to like me well enough."

It was true. The kits had all managed to shove Cyno onto the floor so they could sit on his lap. Nobody would ever know if the kits accomplished such a feat, or if Cyno let them. 

Tighnari sighed and rubbed at his face. "Are you sure...? They can be quite the handful... even with my mate to help..."

"Oh come now Tighnari, you haven't seen the sun in months," his mate urged, hugging him from behind. "It's healthy to go outside every now and then. And in your case, everyday. I bet there's a new species of mushroom just waiting to be tried."

At the thought, his ears perked up. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to go on patrol..." 

Cyno smiled and winked at Tighnari's mate, their plan to get Tighnari out of the house and actually interacting with people succeeding brilliantly. They both watched as Tighnari left the small hut, and went out on patrol, if only to ensure the area was safe a little while longer. 

Little did Tighnari know what awaited him once he got home now that he had left. And it most certainly involved Cyno dishing out jokes, much to Tighnari's dismay.

Chapter Text

Pain bloomed within his body as black strands of his endless debt began to wrap around him, the near silent screams of the nightmares that lay within that debt whispering in his ears. The Adeptus screamed, collapsing to his knees, clutching his head. It all hurt, and it always endlessly tortured him. 

He had not a clue why it had grown worse on this particular night, but when he came to, he found a small girl staring at him with the bluest eyes he'd probably ever seen. 

"Are you alright mister? I heard you screaming."

Xiao clicked his tongue. "Go away mortal. It's not safe for you here."

"I'm not mortal, Mr. Xiao."

Curse him to the Abyss, curse him to Celestia, the Adeptus had flinched at the tone. He sat up from his spot on the ground, his clothes soaked through. He turned his head away from the little girl, finding himself halfway into the river. Any farther and he would've... drowned. 

"You were floating down the river and I pulled you out."

The Adeptus turned to look at the girl again and found himself frowning at her appearance. She should've had wet clothes, yet they were utterly dry. Although he supposed it didn't help his suspicions when the edges of her person flickered. 

"Who are you?"

"Do you want the truth or a lie that will leave you in comfort?"

An eyebrow raised at the question. "Tell me the truth. I don't like liars."

"I'm a lost soul, still wandering the plains. I died long ago. I'm sad you don't remember me, Alatus."

His eyes narrowed as she lost her grip on her body, becoming translucent. She stared at him still with those blue eyes, ones that looked perhaps too much like a long dead goddess. 

"I was one of her acolytes. Well... I suppose their acolyte would be more accurate..." she murmured, sitting down by him. The water parted as if she was truly there as she sat in the river bank. Xiao's brow furrowed. This was probably a fever dream of some sort. 

"I can't stay anymore, Alatus... I've grown too weak. No one remembers me. Not even you, a man that I called father. A man that I knew would keep me safe. Yet look at where that got us. I'm dead. You're not. I'm fading. You're not." She turned to look at him, her face becoming grim. "Wake up, Alatus. And find me."

The scene melted away at those words and his eyes flew open as he registered the ceiling of stars above him, a name sitting on his tongue. He remembered the girl in the nightmare, and he remembered that she had been but a toddling child when he'd taken her under his wing. Panic gripped him as he sprang up, grabbing his spear as he launched himself into the air, breezing past trees and stone formations. 

Past camps of Hilichurls and Treasure Hoarders, past the ruins of what had once been a glorious city on the plains, protected by the God of Geo and the God of Dust and the Adepti, the Yakshas. He clenched his jaw as he recalled, he was the only one left. The last remaining Yaksha.

He neared ruins that felt familiar as he donned the mask for the last time that night, clearing the area of the Hilichurls and Abyss Mages that had taken residence there. Xiao sighed in relief when the mask vanished from his face, his body numb from the pain of his debt. His unforgivable debt. 

Amber eyes turned their attention to the single solitary headstone, and he let out a sound, akin to a saddened bird call, saddened by the sight of the moss covered stone. He wiped away the moss and the invading plants, slowly revealing the name of the lost soul he had indeed forgotten. 

He gritted his teeth as he slammed the butt of his spear on the ground, roaring furiously into the night sky. He had forgotten the name of the child that he had begun to train himself, forgotten the name of the child that so happily called him father, despite there being no blood between them. His little Glaze Lily. 

"I'm sorry I forgot, little Lixue... I'm sorry."

Chapter Text

"Death of Autumn winds,"

Wanted posters on every street. Bounties growing ever larger in number every early morning, announced well before the autumn dew evaporated in the morning sun. A friend, slain in a duel, a Vision dead, an ambition snuffed out. Tears are shed. Despair and fear are the consequences, unwanted but inevitable. The wind is dying. The wind is growing cold to the touch. Instead of secrets, it whispers of danger and warning. Death lays within its empty fingers. 

"Winter preys on the last days,"

They're nothing more than prey to the Commission. A father and a mother, with an infant child tucked into the warmth of the kimono that clothed the father. Disguises conceal their every step, and keep the infant child away from the death-filled hands of the wind. The days that could've been spent in Inazuma, the future that could've been their's, even with the disgrace of the Kaedahara clan trailing behind in a somber parade, they had come to an end. The last days had arrived with the winter, bittercold and unforgiving. 

"The sun... has gone away..."

Gray skies devoured the sun, thunder rumbling off in the distance. A katana whined as it was pulled from the sheath, violent violet arches becoming the new sun. A father cried, a mother screamed. Metal clashed and screeched, sparks flew and set the stage aflame. Eternity must be maintained, lest the fragile state wrought upon Eternity be broken. Eternity comes at the cost of ignorance to the changing world. But the sun must go away. The sun shall always go away in the end. Even its light will be snuffed out. Not even the father can protect the mother. 

"Death of Autumn winds, 

Winter preys on the last days,

The sun has gone away."

The skies remained gray as the boat carried away a father and his infant child, tucked away within the warmth of his kimono. 

Chapter Text

His curiosity had gotten the best of him was his only excuse for the babbling baby in his arms that looked almost exactly like him. Blue-eyed, blonde, and completely artificial. Another homunculi. 

Sucrose had been shocked enough when she saw him with the small child that she nearly spilled one of her chemicals in her latest experiment. She stuttered and stammered, eyes wide as she observed the endlessly babbling bundle in the arms of her teacher. 

"M-Master Albedo, w-wherever did you find the... the baby?" she whispered, adjusting her glasses as she bent a little to look closer at the child. She received a chorus of happy babbles and a toothless baby grin, all gums and no teeth. 

"I created her." 

Albedo was infamous for being blunt and getting right to the point, a man usually seen as someone who didn't joke around. Not often anyways. And never when it came to his experiments.

"This is Lily. I'm bringing Lily to see Klee, especially since I figured Klee would be excited to be a big sister for a change."

Sucrose withdrew to her full height, looking into the blue eyes of the Alchemist. She saw nothing but an odd determination and hope. She nodded, humming to herself. "I-I see. Well I hope Klee is... is excited."

Albedo adjusted the wriggling infant in his arms, letting the child gnaw on his fingers as he bid farewell to Sucrose, leaving her to her experiments at the crafting bench. He got a few odd looks at he trailed his way up the endless staircases leading to the Knights of Favonius Headquarters, but he paid them no mind. He frankly didn't care, and he got used to odd stares thanks to the Irodori Festival in Inazuma.

The guards outside the building gave him peculiar looks as he approached the door, holding the infant with one arm and on his hip. The door squealed as it was pushed open, causing the baby in his arms to startle and wiggle in fright. Not too long after she started to cry, unable to comprehend the surrounding area. Lily wailed and sobbed, earning soft kisses to her head. 

"Hey... shhhhhhh... it's okay little Lily. You're safe, I'm right here," Albedo coaxed, calming Lily down just enough to see her shiny baby blue eyes peering at him. He gave her a soft smile as he kissed her button nose. "See? It's alright. You're safe."

He booped her nose with a finger, earning a startled blink and a chorus of giggles right after. She grinned at him as he knocked on the door leading into the confinement room, earning a chirped response from Klee. 

Albedo waited and watched as the door opened, a disgruntled Jean standing there. "You know the rules, Albedo. Klee shouldn't have visitors when she's in solitary confinement."

He barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Instead he offered a light smile. "And not let Klee see her new baby sister? I think not."

Klee appeared from behind Jean's legs, her eyes wide and curious as she spotted the babbling baby in Albedo's arms. She grinned and jumped around, chanting at the top of her lungs. 

"Klee's a big sister, Klee's a big sister! Yay yay yay!" 

She skidded to a stop and danced in her place, as Albedo stepped into the room, the male kneeling down on the floor. Lily giggled as she watched Klee, wriggling in her bundle. 

Klee bounded on over as she looked over the happily babbling baby, grinning. "What's her name big brother Albedo?"

"Lily."

"I like that name," Klee said, nodding to herself before solemnly declaring, "I will be the best big sister in all of Teyvat to Lily."

"I don't expect anything less from you, Klee," Albedo whispered, smiling. He found it endearing how eager Klee was to be a big sister to his child, even if the child was merely another homunculi like he was. 

He supposed in the end, it didn't matter. It didn't matter if Lily was a byproduct of some lover he never had, or of his own making. She'd been born from a calla lily after all. And calla lilies, were always sweet with a side of bitter. 

Chapter Text

He watched as his toddler toddled about, earning many grins and hugs from the various guards within his troop, the child of the Twilight Sword famous in the Khaenri'ahn military. If the child was nearby, then without a doubt her father would be close behind. 

Dainsleif watched as she was plucked up by Halfdan, his friend receiving happy squeals and chirps of his name followed by a snuggle. After all, the toddler considered Halfdan to be her uncle. 

"Hey squirt, how are you doing?" Halfdan asked, carrying the little girl on his hip. 

"Daddy taught me how to make a flower wreath and he taught me how Inteyvats turn to dust when you pick them unless you take them outside of Khaenri'ah. I asked why but daddy didn't know... which is okay because he knows everything else!" she chirped happily, looking towards her father for approval. 

Dainsleif chuckled and ruffled her short hair. 

"I don't know everything like you think I do Gunhilde, but I do try and answer every question you have."

"Why do we have blue eyes, daddy?" 

"I'm not sure, but I do know that you have special blue eyes."

She blinked at him, the gold-rimmed hues glittering. The star pupil at him glimmered with the golden rim, eternal and speaking of a fate that was inevitable. 

Dainself felt the joy of the scene fade as it turned somber and red, consumed by flames. Buildings lay toppled, the rubble was strewn across what had once been beautiful roads. He watched, wide-eyed and face splattered with blood. Footsteps sounded behind him, soft cries following those footsteps. He turned and found himself frozen in his spot.

"Daddy!" 

"Gunhilde!" 

Soot-covered arms wrapped around him, the sound of a child sobbing and crying reaching his ears amongst the roaring of the flames and screams of the Khaenri'ahn people losing their lives or turning into monsters. 

"Daddy I'm scared... why are we being punished?"

"I don't know sweetheart, I don't know."

He watched as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "They took mama..." she whispered, her lips wobbling like a newborn fawn, unable to stand, unable to defend itself. She was... utterly defenseless. 

"Daddy, I don't wanna die..."

Dainsleif opened his mouth to respond when a glowing hand ripped the child from his embrace, Gunhilde screaming for him. All sound drowned out as he moved to grab his child back, his mouth moving, screaming, shouting, pleading as he lifted out a hand and watched, watched as an unforgiving polearm came down and-

He awoke, screaming her name. The Twilight sword shot up, clutching his cape as he turned his attention towards the eternally full moon, his face wet with tears. His own eyes, wide and full of sorrow and tears, had received concerned stares from the blond Traveler and Paimon, who had been preparing a midnight snack.

"Are you alright? You started tossing and turning and screaming. Want a snack, and maybe talk about it?" Paimon offered, the floating fairy tilting her head. 

He turned his face away, dabbing at his eyes with his cloak. "No, no... just... just nightmares, is all. I'm going to go on a walk to clear my head."

The traveling companions looked at each other, saying nothing as they watched the somber man step away from the camp and into the darkened woods, shoulders heavy, head drooping. But as he walked farther and farther off, he plucked up a single solitary flower, he did not care for its name, did not care to identify it, not as he gathered up rocks, small little pebbles really, searching for perhaps the right tree. 

He came upon one not much later, and he decided, that nested between the two largest roots, is where it would do. He lay the pebbles down, one by one until a small pile formed. He lay the flower, a Sumeru rose, across the pile as he knelt down. 

"I never made a proper resting place for you, Gunhilde. I don't think this will work either as proper, but it's all I can manage right now. The homeland is lost, and it should remain lost... but... there isn't a day that goes by where I don't miss you or your mother. I wonder how much awe would fill your little eyes... if you were to see Teyvat now..." he whispered. 

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, my little Gunhilde."

Chapter Text

The God of Geo wandered the plains, hands clasped behind his back as he passed through a battlefield, thinking over various strategies that could be implemented in the battle that was merely a few days away. He raised an eyebrow as the bodies went from human to more... inhuman ones. He walked alone further, noting how flesh turned to scales and fur, turned to claws and teeth. 

"How... peculiar..." he murmured as he came to the worst of the carnage, a large body draped near what appeared to be a nest of some sort. It was headless, so he dared not look at it too long, lest he grow ill from the thought. 

He neared the nest, the tap of his boots being accompanied by soft, puzzled chirps. The Archon hummed in thought as he looked over the branches and logs that made up the nest, chuckling a bit when he found himself staring at the smallest little dragon he'd ever seen. The hatchling turned towards him with wide eyes, letting out a yip. 

Zhongli climbed into the nest with care, kneeling down at the edges as he reached out a gloved hand, testing the waters. Would the hatchling trust him? Or would the child attack him?

He watched as those sky blue eyes blinked at him, curiosity sparkling in them. 

"Hey... come here, I'm not gonna hurt you," he whispered, curling his fingers a bit. 

The little dragon bounded on over slowly, observing his every move. The tip of its nose bumped his fingers as it sniffed a little bit before happily tucking its head into his head, purring softly. He blinked in shock and then grinned, allowing himself to give the fur covered hatchling a few scratches behind the ears. 

"You're an affectionate little one aren't you?"

The hatchling let out a soft mrrp in response. The sounds the hatchling made were cat-like, it was almost as if the child had been a cat. With wings. A cat with wings. He chuckled to himself at the thought as he carefully scooped up the hatchling, receiving a surprised chirp. 

He himself was a dragon, a dragon Adeptus. Surely taking care of a hatchling shouldn't be too difficult, he thought to himself as he climbed out of the nest, watching the hatchling to see the reaction. 

It chirped at him, yawning and tucking its head in the crook of his elbow, dozing off rather quickly. 

The Archon smiled to himself, carrying the infant dragon away.

Chapter Text

Daiki stared at the fish intently, his tail wagging like nobody's business behind him. The fish came closer, and it was a perfect time, no other opportunity. He struck, palms hitting the water to try and capture the fish. A splash sounded as the child did his best to capture the fish.

He came up empty-handed and the puppy sulked, his ears flattening against his head, his tail drooping. Any other fish in the nearby area had all scattered as well, leaving Daiki alone on the shoreline of Watatsumi Island. The puppy looked up from his spot, blue eyes scanning the shoreline for his father, General Gorou. 

"Going fishing, are we, Daiki?" Gorou asked as he strode towards Daiki, having spotted his son earlier. The full-grown man crouched down by his sulking son, ruffling his hair. "Would it be safe to assume it's not going too well?"

"No..." Daiki mumbled, ears still flat against his head. He leaned into his father's touch, enjoying the affection. As much as Gorou and Daiki protested at being compared to dogs, they really were like dogs, perhaps a little too much. Regardless, everyone on the island thought it was precious how similar Daiki was to his father. Like father like son. Gorou's ears twitched as he scanned the waters, looking for another fish. 

"Over there, you see where the coral used to crawl up the rock?" Gorou whispered, pointing towards a rock not too far off.

"Yeah, I do."

"I used to catch a lot of fish over there in that area. Just don't let Kokomi catch you." 

Daiki's eyes shined as he dashed off, eager to make his father proud. He didn't need to, Gorou was already immensely proud of his son. But even so, it was cute to see Daiki try so hard. Gorou sighed and shook his head, chuckling all the while. 

It wasn't long before Daiki shouted triumphantly, a fish caught in between his hands. Daiki's tail wagged behind him, nothing more than a blur as he bounded towards his father. 

"I caught one father! I caught one!" Daiki beamed, holding up the fish. Gorou grinned and ruffled his son's hair, his own tail swaying behind him with pride.

"I'm proud of you, Daiki." 

"Thank you, papa!"

Chapter Text

The toddler babbled mindlessly to himself as he stacked blocks on top of each other, watching his father as he messed with a diagram of his newest project. The child blinked as the diagram turned, controlled in the air by Mehrak, the little robotic briefcase that his father had crafted. It chirped at his father, earning a groan and a sigh from the blond male. 

"Papa, what happen?" he asked, standing up and toddling over, the chubby child retaining most of his baby fat. Kaveh plucked up his son, placing him on his lap. 

"Just a design flaw is all, nothing too big, Nesar."

"What a flaw?" 

"A flaw is something that isn't right."

"So... it bad?" 

"Sometimes."

Nesar stared at his father, reaching up and patting his face. Kaveh smiled and pressed a kiss to his son's forehead before placing him back down. 

"Go off and play, I'll come join you in a little bit once I finish up the rough draft." 

Nesar nodded and toddled back to his stack of blocks, resuming the dutiful task of stacking them as high as possible. His father would have to help with the parts he couldn't reach, but for now, this would do. He grabbed the last block and stood on his toes, sliding the block on top of the tower that was teetering precariously. It swayed back and forth as it registered the new weight and came tumbling down, earning a startled toddler as its reward. 

Nesar blinked at the scattered blocks as he put his fingers in his mouth, the nervous habit being something he picked up from Kaveh. Usually his father bit his nails but Nesar didn't know that. Kaveh peeked into the room, red eyes scanning the area for the source of the cacophonic orchestra of crashing before spotting his ever so guilty son standing in front of the collapsed pile of blocks. 

Kaveh sighed and chuckled, relaxing since nothing was broken or damaged. 

"What did you try building this time, Nesar?"

"A towers... tall towers..." Nesar mumbled, his progress utterly ruined for life in his eyes.

"Do you want some help?" Kaveh asked, kneeling on one knee as he scooped up a block to offer it to the toddler. 

Nesar looked up at his father, seeing the support and love in Kaveh's eyes. He nodded, confidence coming back in trickles. 

"I'll teach you how to make the tower nice and stable so you can build it super high. We'll need to get more blocks though."

"Can we make towers tall like papa?" 

Kaveh grinned and ruffled Nesar's hair. "We can make it even taller than that."

Nesar's eyes shined as he threw his hands up into the air and celebrated, grinning wide and giggling. 

"Tall towers! Tall towers!"

Kaveh grinned and put the block down, picking his son up and tossing him lightly into the air, receiving a chorus of happy squeals and giggles. As Kaveh caught him again, he turned towards the front door, picking up his keys from the bowl. Just for good measure, he stole Alhaitham's. Serves him right. Kaveh still hated the fact that he had to room with Alhaitham, again, but it was to keep his son off of the streets. Besides, Alhaitham's own daughter, Fazluna, had a playmate within easy reach, so Kaveh considered it a win, even if it meant dealing with Alhaitham's obnoxious voice. 

Nesar let out a happy squeal when the door opened, and Kaveh stepped out of the house, off to get some more blocks.

Chapter Text

A chubby hand creeped over the counter, seeking for Changsheng whilst the snake dozed in the sunlight. Baizhu watched with an eyebrow raised, pausing in his measurements.

"Li Yan? What are you doing?" he mused, the toddler glancing up at him with wide, fuchsia eyes. She looked so guilty at being caught. Her hand came to rest at her side as she swayed side to side, not making eye contact. 

"I wanna play with Chang..." she mumbled, daring a glance up at her father. 

Baizhu placed the qingxin flower in his hand down, crouching down behind the counter to meet Li Yan's eyes. 

"Changsheng is sleeping right now, perhaps a little later. Why don't you come help me with a new medicine for Xiao?"

She perked up at the name, the child having grown fond of the Adeptus, despite his grumpy nature. "Okay! I can help!" 

Baizhu smiled at Li Yan, ruffling her green hair. She giggled, her chubby hands reaching for his wrist. She gripped at the pale jade bracelet, the cool surface causing the child to giggle some more. 

"Go get your stool, alright? I'll make sure the station is already prepared for you."

Li Yan nodded before letting go and darting off into the back to get herself a stool, leaving her father chuckling while he set up something easy for the toddler to do. Changsheng yawned as she woke up from her afternoon nap, sticking her head up. 

"The little massssster isssss coming back," she said, slithering up Baizhu's arm and returning to her favorite spot around his neck. 

He laughed, turning towards the toddler as she happily toddled back, stool in her arms. Qiqi followed behind with a cup of coconut milk in her hands. 

Li Yan set the stool down right next to her father before hopping onto the flat surface, peeking over the counter. 

"What I do papa?" she asked, looking up at him with a babyish grin. 

"I need you to remove the petals from these qingxin. Can you do that for me?" he asked, returning her grin as he offered a small pile of the white flowers. 

Li Yan nodded eagerly, chubby hands grasping the stems and carefully pulling the petals off. After all, Baizhu taught her medicine was a delicate, precise art. And the petals would be used for later anyways. No part of any herb or ingredient should be wasted after all. 

It was almost tranquil, the atmosphere even more so with the sun setting beyond the endless ocean, and Baizhu found peace in the silence. For once the illness that plagued him let him be, allowing him this small reprieve from the constant, dull agony. He turned to Li Yan, smiling and huffing out a laugh. She looked up at him, blinking with those wide, innocent eyes of hers. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. 

"I'm proud of you, and I love you Li Yan."

"Love you too papa!"

Chapter Text

He grumbled at the stack of paperwork that had accumulated on his desk whilst he was gone in the Abyss, cursing under his breath. The stacks of white paper gleamed like the fresh snow outside in the moonlight, the morning incredibly young. Perhaps as young as the half-asleep little girl that stared at him, a familiar little doll in her arms. 

"Papa...? You're back..." she mumbled, yawning and rubbing her eyes. 

The Harbinger pivoted, admittedly startled by the sudden appearance of the child he'd begrudgingly taken under his care. (Much to the shock of everyone that knew him well.) 

"Koko, I didn't think I'd wake you up. What's going on sweetheart?" he asked, moving towards the child and crouching down a bit, cupping her chubby cheeked face, checking for any signs of harm. Just in case. He never could trust anyone near the child. Especially a particular doctor who, for his sake, will remain unnamed. 

He let out a relieved sigh when he saw no bruises or lingering cuts from a scalpel. 

"I had a nightmare papa... and I heard the door open. I got scared and hid in your bed until I heard you." She moved forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a tight hug. "Don't go papa..." 

Scaramouche blinked in shock before sighing and wrapping his own arms around the eight-year-old, chuckling. "I won't be going anywhere for a long while unless the Jester tells me to."

"I don't like the Jester... he sends you to scary places..." Koko whispered, tightening her hug. She gripped the little doll in her hands with all her might, praying that the man she called father wouldn't vanish and leave her behind again. Going outside was an endeavor in itself, to even leave the spacious quarters was a struggle. And it usually meant she was alone. 

"I'll see what I can do to stay for a few months."

Tears welled up in Koko's green eyes as she buried her face in the crook of his neck, finding comfort in the faint scent of cherry blossoms and metallic lightning.

"Thank you papa..."

"Anything for my little Koko," he whispered, running his hand down her spine in soothing gestures as he stood up, Koko snuggly in his arms. "Come on, lets get you back to bed, okay?" 

He received a hum that was followed by soft snores, Koko tuckered out and safe. 

"Sleep well, Koko," were the last words uttered that late night. 

Chapter Text

Koko stared up at the stone ceiling. She swore she forgot something, something important. She wasn't entirely sure what she had forgotten, but there was a vague figure, a vague face. A voice she knew as "father." But he wasn't here, whoever this "father" was. Perhaps that was who she forgot?

But how could she have forgotten him when she's never had a "father." It was just her in these empty chambers, left to sleep there by the Jester. A perfect spot to be found by a certain doctor that had way too much to do with... who was it again? It wasn't her, no, the Doctor dared not touch her, much less get close. So who was it that was close to her but also used by the Doctor?

She couldn't recall. 

Koko slipped out of the large bed, bare feet pattering across the carpeted stone floor as she looked for some indication of the person she could've sworn she knew but had somehow forgotten. She clung to the doll in her hands, the little black-haired, eternally crying doll. It smelled like cherry blossoms and metallic lightning. A comforting, familiar scent. 

But to whom the scent belonged to, she did not recall.

No matter how she tried. 

No books lined the shelves, none except the ones she put there. No paperwork lay on the desk, no plaque on the desk either. Not even a lamp. 

The sound of a window latch breaking reached her ears as she whirled towards the source, dashing for the desk and hiding underneath it. She recalled she had stashed a knife in a hidden drawer there as she popped it open, picking up the knife in her little hands. Koko shook and trembled as wooden footsteps neared, the wood clacking against the stone. 

Metal clinked as the intruder moved, not one breath to be heard. The sound grew closer, and as it grew closer, Koko shook even more, the knife in her hands slipping in her sweaty grip. Her eyes widened as it finally slipped and clattered onto the floor, the chambers falling silent and still. 

She began to cry silently, her hands clammy as she squeezed the doll in her arms for some sort of comfort, a comfort that was far too distant to be obtained. The footsteps restarted, beating quicker against the floor, to the pace of her speeding heart as a silhouette appeared in her line of vision. 

Koko closed her eyes as the figure stepped closer and closer, her inevitable death on the horizon, even as the sky began to turn pink with the oncoming dawn. But it didn't matter, she would die, all because of her clumsiness.

The figure crouched down, and she screamed, waiting for the oncoming loneliness of death that would surely be accompanied by darkness. She closed her eyes tight, curling into herself, her teeth gritted, waiting for the pain. She screamed and screamed, tears flowing full force. 

Koko froze when not a blade touched her, but rather a warm hand, a hand she swore she knew. But couldn't recall. It ran through her dark hair, the owner shushing her with a care she knew well, but couldn't recall. 

"Hey... shhhhhh... I'm not gonna hurt you, Koko."

How did it know her name, she wondered as she opened an eye, finding a face that wasn't scary or cruel, but rather soft and warm. Her heart leapt for joy, but she knew not why. Why did her heart leap for joy when she knew him not. 

She could've sworn something took over her body when the first words she uttered to him were simply, "Papa...?"

The man smiled at her, cupping her chubby cheeks and wiping away her tears. 

"I don't expect you to remember me, but I remember you, little Koko," he said. 

There was something about him that fit the vague hole in her memories, something about him that felt right. Perhaps... perhaps this was the one she'd forgotten. She crawled from out of under desk, the doll still in her hands. Koko looked at him, lifting up the large hat. Even that felt familiar, even if it looked wrong. He knelt there on the ground, letting her do as she pleased, letting her know him and explore. 

Her eyes drifted to the Anemo vision that rested where his heart lay, and she put a hand on it, the vision pulsing under her hands. 

She looked up at him, and she wasn't sure why she said it, but it felt like it was the right thing to say. 

"Papa, you found your heart."

He tilted his head and chuckled. "More like it found me, Koko."

Koko looked at his eyes, reaching for his face. She took his own cheeks in her hands, squishing them together. She giggled at the resulting face as he rolled his eyes, his own hands coming to grasp her wrists. 

"I'm back, Koko. For good. I'm not leaving anymore, I promise. But, you'll have to come with me. We'll be going somewhere better."

"Where?" she asked. Despite this man never sharing his name, she knew it deep down. Father.

"Sumeru."

Chapter Text

He gazed out upon the wide field in front of him, the rainforest to his left and Sumeru city to his right. His wife stood afar off, calling his name. The gray-haired male turned and smiled at his wife, smiled at the happily babbling bundle in her arms. The baby wriggled and cooed eagerly, making grabby hands as he began to walk towards them, their names on his lips. 

The grass whispered in his ears, warning him of what lay ahead, but payed no heed. That was his family right there, and he loved them so. The whispers grew desperate, a soft feminine voice telling him to turn back and wake up, lest he be tortured. How could he be tortured when this was pleasant and peaceful? He wouldn't listen, never, never in a million years. 

Not when he trusted his wife who called his name once more.

"Alhaitham, Alhaitham! She said her first word! Can you say dada?"

The baby grinned and flapped her limbs around, squealing all the while. "Da! Da! Daaaaaaaaa! Dada!"

He moved closer and closer, the whispers becoming pleas and more audible to him, almost drowning out his family. Green eyes stared at him from behind his family, full of sadness and fear, too much to belong to such a small girl who held too much pain in those ancient eyes. 

"Turn back, Alhaitham! Turn back!"

He ignored the girl, stretching his hands out to embrace his family, to take them against himself and feel their warmth, their love. He held so much adoration for his wife and the bundle of happily babbling joy, nothing would stop him from seeing them at the end of the day. 

He closed his eyes, and the sounds of joy turned into ones of sadness as he felt a body slip out of his grip, and heard crying afar off. He opened an eye, arms folding carefully over the sobbing bundle in his arms, his infant child wailing her little heart out. He dared turn his gaze further and found Sumeru city aflame, the rainforests aflame. Cursed cubes soared through the sky, piercing the ground. 

Knowledge had cursed Sumeru, had damned the nation to the same fate as the one that lay below their own feet. 

He looked down and found arrows piercing his wife's chest, her hair sprawled out behind her cooling corpse, blood soaking the strands he loved so dearly. He found himself crying, crying as much as the baby who still wailed in his arms, her own chubby cheeks splashed with the blood of the woman who lay dead at her father's feet. 

Alhaitham turned and fled, sheltering the infant in his arms as he moved. He didn't care where, anywhere would be better than the wreckage of the homeland he loved. As he fled further and further away, his infant grew quieter and quieter with every cry, until at last, it fell silent. 

Only flames roared and his panting filled the air, and the babe in his arms, was silent and still. Panicked, he lay his child on the ground, unwrapping the swaddle and let out a heartbroken cry at the wound he'd never seen. An arrow, one that had likely been taken out by his beloved, had struck the baby. 

And he'd never known, even as his infant daughter, bled to death in his arms. 

He felt numb. Shock coursed through his body as he stared and stared and stared, unable to comprehend it. Alhaitham heard screaming, and he supposed, from somewhere in the still unshaken part of his mind, it was him screaming. 

Those green eyes approached him yet again, the young child-like goddess looking at him with pity and woe. 

"I warned you, didn't I?"

He woke up in his cot, screaming and heaving for breath, his blankets soaked with sweat. He turned his head and found others, refugees and soldiers from the disaster, all staring at him with pity and sorrow. 

"You dreamed of her, didn't you?" Kaveh murmured from the cot above him, peeking over the edge. 

Alhaitham couldn't say anything and only let out quiet sobs as he turned on his side, facing the tent wall. 

And he cried himself back to sleep, clutching his infant child's favorite bear.

Chapter Text

Windblume had struck again, and the Anemo Archon watched the festivities from the rooftop of the Cat's Tail yet again for the third year in a row. All for the sake of free drinks. He sighed and plucked his lyre, humming a random tune. He heard a call from down below, and he glanced downwards, spotting his little daughter waving up at him eagerly. It was easy to spot the child, she looked like him after all, including the green in his hair. It gave many a minor fright to see the bard with practically a mini Venti toddle after him with her own lyre. 

"Hi Papa!!!" she called, bouncing on her feet as she waved her hand eagerly, arm and all. 

He waved back, grinning as he did so. Venti paused in his waving to sneeze, not once, not twice, but thrice. Darn cat allergies. 

The Archon heard giggling and he looked toward the source, making an exasperated face when he found himself face-to-face with his child. She floated in front of him on a wind of her own making, grinning as she bopped his nose. 

"Cat got your tongue, papa?" she asked, tilting her head. 

"Oh come now, you know Papa has allergies little Blythe," Venti pouted as he took her into his arms, giving her a tight hug. 

Blythe snuggled into her father's body, giggling all the while as she looked up at him. "If you have allergies, then why are you up here? Are you doing this for free drinks again?" 

"... Maybe?"

"Daaaaaaaad! You promised you wouldn't drink over Windblume!" Blythe cried, pouting all the while. 

"Did I now...? I don't recall..." Venti hummed, giving her a teasing grin. 

Blythe wriggled in her spot, pulling herself out of his embrace. "You even pinkie promised!" she cried, her eyes welling up with tears, her lips curling into a pout. 

Venti panicked and shushed the child, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I won't drink, I promise, I promise."

Blythe sniffled, her eyes sad and disappointed. 

"Come on now my Windblume. I will do my best to keep the promise I made to not drink while the Windblume festival is going on."

"You better, or I'm telling Master Diluc and Margaret not to give you any drinks for a month," Blythe chirped as she turned away, walking off the roof. 

Venti blinked and gaped at the threat, watching as his child floated off the roof and back to the ground, greeted by a little girl in a red dress. Blythe toddled off to go play with Klee, ignoring her father's squawks of protest as the pair of children vanished out of Mondstadt's gates.

Wonder how many fish would die today.

Chapter Text

Tighnari dozed in the evening sun after a long day of patrolling, unaware of the creeping children behind him. His tail swayed lazily as he enjoyed the warmth of the rainforest sun, letting out a yelp when he found his tail pinned to the ground by his own children. 

He turned around, peeking his head over his shoulder to find his four kits clinging to his tail, snuggling into the fur. They chirped at him, welcoming him back home as they put their chubby hands into the fur, stealing whatever warmth he had to offer. Their ears twitched and tails swayed back and forth happily, showcasing their joy in seeing their beloved father back home. 

Tighnari turned with a chuckle and pulled his kits onto his lap, kissing each of them on their head. They each grinned and snuggled into his body, their small hands finding purchase in his clothing. 

"I hope you four didn't give mama too much of a struggle today," he said, letting his tail curl around himself and the kits. 

The eldest looked at him, blinking. "Uncle Cyno came over while you were gone."

"Yeah. He told a lot of bad jokes," the third kit piped up, her ears wilting at the mention of the poor jokes. 

"I thought they were funny," came the reply from the General Mahamatra, earning five different eye rolls from father and kits alike.

"Knowing you, your puns were incessant and thoroughly unnecessary," Tighnari groaned, his ears already flopping against his head. Whilst he trusted Cyno with his life, (and he entrusted the lives of his mate and kits to the Mahamatra at times), those jokes were truly an abomination to whoever had the misfortune of hearing them. 

"At least they kept your kits out of trouble."

At those words, Tighnari turned his hazel-eyed gaze towards his children, finding them staring up at him with as much innocence as they could muster. Ears droopy, eyes wide and pleading, lips curled into a pout. The picture of innocence. 

He raised an eyebrow before sighing. "Did you four do something today that you weren't supposed to?"

The four merely grinned at him before bounding off, scattering to various hiding spots inside Gandharva Ville, giggling all the while. Tighnari let out an exasperated sigh as he got up, giving his friend a tired look.

"What exactly did they attempt to do?"

Cyno only chuckled and folded his arms. "Just get yourself home for dinner, you'll find out then."

Chapter Text

The Archon stared out over the Adeptal realm, the body of the Exuvia curled up behind him. He turned that great body of his towards the mouth of the cave he'd fashioned out of rock, letting out a rumbling purr at the sight of his mate coming towards him, her tail twining around his. Rex Lapis leaned forward and nudged his snout against his mate's, closing his eyes as he spoke within his mind, telepathy a common speaking form amongst draconian people. 

"You alright, love?" 

He received a soft purr at the question, his mate, his golden mate, replying with a hum. She curled into his body, enjoying his warmth as she happily stole it from him. 

"Our child will be born any day soon, and you ask if I'm alright? If anything, I should ask if you're alright, you've been pacing back and forth for days now," she remarked, huffing out loud. 

Zhongli rolled his eyes as he untangled himself, nearing the cavern. He looked inside, just a little worried. Any day now. Any minute. He could become a father at any moment, and it was both exciting and nerve-wracking. His golden gaze remained steady on the single, solitary egg that gleamed at him tauntingly, the only barrier between him and his child. The surface of the shell pulsed lazily with Geo, the only signs that the egg was fertile and alive, sheltering a living being. He wondered what form his child would take when they hatched. Would his child be human? Or would his child hatch into this world as a hatchling dragon? 

His mate joined his side, nuzzling his mane with a soft purr. Rex Lapis leaned into her affections, offering them back with eagerness. He had been alone for thousands upon thousands of years, and nature was gracious enough to grant him one wish in return for his diligent protection. A mate to spend the rest of his days with. And his mate granted him one more wish. And that wish was about to come true, soon. He'd become a father, and he wanted to show his child the world he'd protected so fervently. 

A crack sounded. 

A single solitary crack. 

Both dragons turned their attention to the egg that now shook and trembled, scratching and cracking the only sounds as the world, as the dragons waited with bated breath, creeping closer and closer as the shell began to fall apart. A chirp arose through the cavern, soft cries accompanying that chirp. 

A chubby claw pushed away the rest of the shell, and as it collapsed into a heap, it revealed the little occupant, the baby dragon crying for its mother. 

His mate moved forward to nudge the babe with her snout, letting the child know she was right there, and that it was safe. 

Rex Lapis could barely contain his joy as it rose up through him, his tail twining around his mate's, as if to say, I'm a father, I'm a father. Thank you, thank you...

Cries turned into soft coos and chirps, the hatchling the size of a human toddler. They'd be careful, oh so careful with their child. After all, dragons were rare. But a baby dragon was a miracle that happened once in a blue moon. He watched as the hatchling opened their eyes, gazing out at the new world. They offered a grin, as much of a grin as a dragon can do, tail swaying back and forth behind them. 

"Isn't our son precious, Rex Lapis?" his mate asked, turning her gaze towards him as she nudged his snout, already full of pride for the infant child. 

Rex Lapis chuckled as he lay his head near the hatchling, immediately getting pounced on. 

"Our son is more precious than the Mora I mint, than the Cor Lapis that forms, than the flowers of old and stories I know. Our son will know endless love. My Shenlong."

Chapter Text

"Kaeya?" a sweet voice called out to him, accompanied by the sound of heels clicking on stone. He opened his eyes and found his wife staring at him, their son swaddled and dozing peacefully in her arms. He let out a soft laugh as he got up from his seat, embracing his wife with a kiss on the cheek. 

"Hello snowflake. I'm surprised you came to see me," Kaeya crooned, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his beloved's ear. She smiled at him and turned her attention to the slumbering baby boy, running her finger across his chubby cheek. 

"I figured the original last hope of Khaenri'ah would like to see his own son now, is that so wrong?" she asked, eyes full of a soft love and adoration. And damned with that same starry-eyed gaze that plagued all pure-blood Khaenri'ahns. His son stirred and yawned, opening his eyes after rubbing the sleep from them, bursting into happy coos and wiggles. 

"Da! Dada! Daaaaaaaaa!" he squealed, grinning widely upon seeing his father, chubby hands coming to pat Kaeya's face. 

Kaeya took the child into his own arms, grinning right back at the bumbling bundle of joy.

"Hello Crowley," he crooned, peppering butterfly kisses all over his son's chubby face. Squeals and giggles of delight rose up, earning the small family endearing smiles from passerby. 

Crowley grinned a babyish grin, snuggling into his father's body as he yawned, ready for another nap. Chubby baby hands found purchase in the fur coat as his eyes fluttered shut, soft coos rising up as the baby settled. 

"Our son is awful sleepy isn't he?" Kaeya crooned, chuckling a bit as he cradled his son's head with his left hand. 

"He's only a baby, he'll grow. Besides, I fear for when he turns out like you, a womanizer through and through." 

Kaeya made a noise of faux offense, gaping at his wife. "He won't turn out anything like that, I am not a bad influence like that, you wound me!" (Spoiler Alert: Crowley 100% becomes like his father, flirtatious through and through.)

To that he received a doubting raise of an eyebrow, his wife rolling her eyes before leaning forward to kiss Crowley's cheek. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, which I'm confident is an action I'll come to regret. But, our son is young and small. It will be a long time before he comes of age."

Soft snores rose up from Crowley, fast asleep. Kaeya grinned as he kept the baby close to him, offering a free hand to his wife. She took it, their fingers twining together. 

"Let’s go home. After all, I have a special dinner to prepare for my wife's birthday today," Kaeya merrily said, humming a long-lost Khaenri'ahn tune all the way home.

Chapter Text

There was a side to the General Mahamatra that Lakhabir didn't know. A side that the General Mahamatra aimed to keep hidden away from his son. Cyno was once described as beautiful beyond compare, but once plucked, once angered, the sharp petals he kept so fiercely shut bloomed. And to pluck him from his spot... it was guaranteed oneself would be cut by both the thorns and razor sharp petals that the General Mahamatra bore.

A razor sharp flower. Harmless when not when in bloom. Harmless when not hunting a scholar down. Harmless when tending to his precious son. 

But deadly to the touch when angered, when provoked. Everyone knew not to provoke the General Mahamatra. Especially when Lakhabir was nearby, clutching a book and watching his father work with wide awestruck eyes. Cyno was but a harmless flower in these tender moments, delicate colors lulling others into a false sense of security, the man a predator that lay in wait. Patience was everything. 

A certain scholar came by, his name nonexistent to time, mere dust to the endless tomes belonging to Inazuman history. Cyno noted the large hat on top of his head as the man crouched down, offering Lakhabir a plate of baklava. 

When the young boy asked the older man why, the man merely replied, "I don't like to eat sweets. So you can have them."

Cyno finally glanced up fully, finding himself face to face with that nameless foreigner, the one Kusanali had personally brought into the Akademiya. He noted the little girl that hid behind the man, the little girl hiding her face in the long sleeves that fell from his shoulders. 

"Lakhabir, what do we say?" he mused, glancing towards his son who already had his cheeks puffed up from the sweet pastry. 

"Tank you," Lakhabir said, unable to talk much. Although who could blame the child, it was baklava, a delicious treat to enjoy. 

The child received a light smile before it turned neutral, the nameless scholar's gaze now affixed on the Mahamatra. 

"May I sit across from you? I have a question I'd like to ask," the nameless asked, his face so carefully blank. It almost disturbed the Mahamatra.

Cyno nodded once, watching as the Inazuman man took the seat he indicated, pulling the little girl onto his lap in the process. She let out a soft squeak at the sudden movement. 

"Papaaaaa warn me next time," she whined with a pout, clinging to a doll that Cyno immediately took notice of. The doll was odd, and appeared to be crying. Why the child took such affections toward the doll, he'd probably never know unless he asked. But he had a feeling it was something personal, perhaps a little tragic. 

"Sorry about that Koko, I'll warn you next time," the man said, running a thumb up and down her arm as if to comfort her. "I personally would rather not be hunted down by the infamous Mahamatra, so I decided to come to you directly." 

To this Cyno raised an eyebrow. "And... what exactly is it that you want to research?"

"I want to learn more about my origins. About what I'm made of." 

The Mahamatra blinked and laughed. "You're human, no? Isn't that already obvious?"

He received a glare in return, the Inazuman man clicking his tongue. He watched as a pale hand slid over a piece of paper, writing taking over a majority of it. 

"Read that, silently. It contains sensitive information that I would prefer remained quiet."

Cyno hesitated. For once, he hesitated. Had he been anywhere else, that hesitation would've cost him. 

He scanned over the letter, eyes widening with each line. It explained so much and answered many of his questions, but at the same time, it gave him so little. He only had more questions to ask, more answers to seek, and he had a feeling that these answers would not be given, regardless of whether or not the artificial being in front of him knew the answer or not. Regardless of whether he hunted the immortal down and bloomed those dangerous petals, or remained a harmless flower. 

He sat back in his seat and pondered, glancing towards his oblivious son as he considered the choices, considered the consequences. As Cyno turned his gaze to the cold, ruthless stare of the puppet, of the Electro Archon's puppet, he said, "Fine. But on one condition. You keep these experiments, these results, to yourself. You can share them with Kusanali, since she personally let you into the Akademiya. But nobody else."

The Inazuman man... no... artificial god, nodded once before getting up, carrying the little girl against his body. He turned and left, leaving Cyno behind to consider if the decision was a mistake. 

Perhaps it was. But he knew the puppet was one to keep promises. After all... 

The puppet kept the Dendro Archon's promise. Even if he hated it with his whole being. 

Cyno let out a chuckled sigh, closing his eyes. 

"What's wrong Abba?" Lakhabir chirped, face messy with crumbs. 

"It's nothing, Lakhabir. Adult stuff." 

Lakhabir nodded solemnly, understanding that whatever it was, it was too hard to understand. 

But it was for the best. 

After all...

Delicate are the colors piercing through razor sharp flowers, as they bloom.

Chapter Text

Ayato opened the doors to his office, shuffling through the paperwork in his hands. He glances upwards to find his seven-year-old daughter with his boba tea in her hands, and a face of guilt staring at him. The Commissioner raised an eyebrow as he stepped forward, paperwork forgotten in his grip. 

"Suzume, what are you doing in my office?" he asked, voice low and quiet. 

"I wanted to see you, and Thoma told me I could stay here until you came back..." Suzume replied. "I got thirsty..."

Ayato sighed exasperatedly and chuckled, crouching down as he ruffled her hair. He received puffed up cheeks as she shot him a playful glare.

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaad you messed up my hair!" Suzume cried, grasping his hand with her own. 

He found himself grinning as he let his heir hold onto his hand, quietly enjoying the tender moment between father and daughter. In that small space of time, he wasn't the Commissioner, he wasn't the Kamisato patriarch, the man to bring forth an heir to take the mantle after him. He was just... a father. Nothing more. Nothing less. He was just a father to a precious little girl. 

Her cheeks remained puffy as she continued to glare at him with a playful gleam in her eye, and to this, the Commissioner laughed, the sound deep and rich. 

"How about later today, once I get this paperwork sorted out, we go to the city and get you some of your own boba and some tricolor dango?" he mused, sitting down at his desk as he lifted up the calligraphy brush on the table, turning his blue-eyed gaze to his equally blue-eyed daughter. 

She looked at him like he was a chest full of shiny Mora and other treasures.

"Okay papa! You better keep your promise though."

He smiled and nodded. "Papa always keeps his promises."

Chapter Text

As the only man alive to have blocked the killing blow of the Musou no Hitotachi, it would suffice to say that he was both scorned and admired. Scorned by those who worshipped the Raiden Shogun to the point of insanity and stalking, and admired by warriors who acknowledged the skill and bravery it took to even dare try. 

Kazuha avoided both parties when he could, mostly for the sake of his wife and infant child that he had to leave behind in Inazuma for their safety. So whenever he came home, he took the opportunity to adore his wife with a haiku and kiss his son on the head. And when he came home, he'd stay as long as he could. Leaving was always hard for him, it was something he struggled with. Even with the Vision Hunt Decree abolished, the fear of losing his family was still there, especially with the loss of his friend weighing on his mind.

So when his wife offered to travel with him one autumn eve, he had to pause in his thoughts and process what had been proposed. 

"Kazuha? Is everything alright?" 

He remained silent as he considered. Would Beidou be alright with it? Alright with taking his wife and child somewhere, like Mondstadt or Liyue, or even Fontaine? 

"My maple leaf," he began, red eyes meeting his wife's. "Are you... sure? Leaving everything we have here behind?" He was shocked enough that he couldn't find it in him to be the poet he normally was.

She nods once, twice, thrice. "Everytime you come home, you look stressed out and tired, Kazuha. And I don't want that for my husband. I don't want that for us. I want you to be able to go outside without having to hide your identity," she whispered as she wrapped her arms around him. "Our son needs a father he can look up to and admire. Not a father that hides his identity for us." 

He considered the words as he let himself be held, turning his attention towards their son who obliviously shoveled handfuls of rice into his mouth, wriggling happily with puffed up cheeks. Kazuha smiled and chuckled. 

"Our son is turning himself into a hamster," he mused, his wife laughing with him. 

"He does love rice a lot," she says, letting Kazuha go. She crossed over to their son and peppered butterfly kisses on his head. The baby wiggled happily, his chubby cheeks stuffed with rice. Kazuha noted that several rice grains stuck to his cheeks. He stepped forward and brushed the grains off, smiling tenderly towards his son. 

"The sunshine of my life, my peace in all my strife, where doest thou desirest to wander? Perhaps ever yonder?" he rhymed, turning to his beloved as he kissed her cheek, giving her a lazy smile. 

"Wherever you go, I will go," were the last words uttered inside the near barren home, still stripped of the luxuries from the times of fear and the need to possibly get away. 

In the dead of night, the Alcor sailed away from Inazumas borders, the last of the maple leaves falling. Their lives in Inazuma perished, and their lives as mere wanderers began anew. 

Chapter Text

It is said that time seems to pause when a new god is born. That the things that make up the world, that rule over the lands, pause their work and take a singular moment to gaze upon the weeping babe, and give the infant a blessing upon their head.

But time seemed to be paused for an awfully long moment, even as the firstborn child of a human and a puppet wailed from fright because the world was new and scary. And cold. 

The weeping child was brought to lay upon her mother, head over her mother's heart. The scent of fresh snow and a soft pine enveloped the baby, the soothing scents joined by one of lightning and cherry blossoms.

Voices murmured softly as the babe began to settle, the infant realizing she was safe. That the snow and pine scent came from her mother. And mother was always safe. She couldn't understand the words being muttered, but she knew she was safe. She knew that mother meant safety. 

The warmth of her mother was joined by something soft and cozy, something the baby didn't quite know. She was wrapped in it, the warmth offered far superior to her mother's, but it wasn't mother. Mother was always better. 

The scent of her mother faded as she became enveloped by cherry blossoms and the metallic scent of lightning. A deeper voice cooed at the baby, and being made curious, she pried open her eyes, staring up at ones that looked much like her own. 

She wriggled a bit in her swaddle, making noises that she knew she could do. It didn't sound like anything he said, but his lips curled upwards. Maybe he could understand?

Her mother's scent came back as she watched the two of them lean against each other, the both of them cradling the infant child in their arms. 

They said more things, more things she couldn't understand, but when they looked at her again, they said one word that felt like she needed to cherish it. 

"Sachiko."

She didn't understand it, but it felt like the word was hers, and she offered the smallest grin she could muster, joy shooting through her little body so fast she couldn't comprehend it at all! She just knew her body felt light and her smile grew, and that it made these two people, one her mother, and the other, probably her father, smile. She'd made them smile. 

It was then that time resumed its usual pace, the gods looking away and resuming their duties. 

A new god had been born. To a human mother and a puppet father. She'd been born from a soul from this world and an artificial one. 

Against all odds, against all biological laws, the baby had been born. That was something that the puppet cherished deeply, that he was able to create something, that he'd been given something that made him just a little bit more like a human, despite having no heart in his chest. Perhaps living for nearly 500 years in both solitude and misery was worth it in the end, he had decided, mostly to himself.

Despite all the things he'd done, all the people he'd murdered out of anger, somebody loved him. And that love for him, combined with the love he'd nurtured carefully, just for her, had blossomed into their firstborn child. 

Their precious baby Sachiko.

Chapter Text

Dark clouds brewed a wicked storm over Wolvendom, lightning crackling within the depths of condensed water in the sky. They darkened as thunder rumbled, nearly drowning out the startled anguished cry of a baby that lay hidden in a nearby bush, a basket shielding the infant from most of the elements. 

As the storm grew closer to bursting, the infant continued to wail and cry, ignorant to the unfortunate fate of his parents that lay mere feet away, slain by Fatui agents. 

Perhaps it was dumb luck or pure fate when red hues grew sad at the sight of the slain couple, and that sensitive ears picked up the weak cries of the newly made orphan. A gloved hand reached into the bush, tugging on the rim of the basket, the motion full of a feeling that was... familiar. Like something the man had forgotten. Silvery hair become wet as rain started to pour, washing away the blood of the crime, the blood mixing into the sodden ground. 

The silver-haired man, having also been abandoned in Wolvendom as a child, plucked up the babe and drew the child close to his body, wrapping his coat around the child to keep him warm. Those cries softened into whines and the occasional sniffle, those chubby infant hands clinging to whatever they could. 

As rain fell, the man made his way to a cave he had called home almost his whole life, earning some curious glances from the wolf pack that had taken him in. He smiled as he knelt down on the stone floor near a fire that he'd started up a few minutes before he'd left, the infant child turning to stare at the flames with wide eyes. 

He cooed in awe and wonder, both at the flames and the wolves that now stared back, assessing the little child in his lap. The baby grinned and clapped his hands together, giggling just a little bit. 

It warmed the man's heart to see the baby being happy and curious. Perhaps Miss Lisa would like the child too. He turned his attention towards the mouth of the cave, his arms making a loose cage around the child so he didn't go bumbling off into the fire or anywhere dangerous. After all, it only took a second for a disaster to happen. 

Seeing lightning flash outside, he sighed and turned his attention back to the child that squirmed on his lap, chubby hands now trying to capture flailing feet. He smiled at the sight, letting out a rough laugh. 

"Baby... silly. Try... so hard," he murmured, words broken and spaced out. Human speech was still difficult for him, even after all these years of learning with Miss Lisa. He could speak well enough, but sometimes the words left him and he wasn't sure if he was doing it right, thus leading him to being slow. Slow enough most either interrupted him or left the conversation. 

The baby turned his attention to the man, offering a toothless grin. He didn't know much... but he knew he'd protect this baby with all he had. 

Chapter Text

Neuvillette was often known as a cold, apathetic man with only an eye for the laws of Fontaine. The Melusines of Fontaine knew him better than most, but there was one secret he kept hidden from everyone, including the Hydro Archon. 

At that very secret he now stared at, the glimmering shell of the unhatched egg taunting him. The Chief Justice of Fontaine lay a bare palm against the surface, his Hydro humming softly to him in response to the life that lay within the shell. He'd been searching for several centuries, searching for a possible way to bring the infant dragon out of the egg. It was the last thing he had of his homeland that was nothing more than a blur of a past life, the last remaining remnant of the Era he'd been a king in. He leaned forward and murmured to the child within, ignoring the rain that begun to fall outside. 

It splattered against the window panes of his office, the room now lit in shades of various blues. It fit his mood, he supposed. Legends stated that whenever the Hydro Dragon Sovereign cried, it would rain, and would continue to rain until the Dragon's tears had been spent. His tears would likely never be spent when it came to his unborn child, so close yet so far, separated by time, a lack of knowledge and a shell. It would be so easy to crack the shell and force his child out, but he wouldn't, couldn't, do that his own kin. 

There were too many risks, too many what-ifs to safely make a choice. He turned to the windows, moving towards them with slow heavy steps, his boots clicking on the floor. His hands reached out and unlatched a hidden latch on the window, opening it to the oncoming rain. 

Neuvillette smiled sadly as he leaned out, allowing his face to be peppered with the fat drops of water. At that moment, an idea came to mind, and he turned towards the egg he kept so well hidden. Carefully he sent out several tendrils of Hydro, those ribbons wrapping around the egg to bring it to him. Slowly but surely he brought the egg to himself, holding it against his body. It wasn't a large egg by any means, no, it was perhaps the size of a Pari from Sumeru. 

"I've been hoping that one day you'll hatch... and I can show you the world. I want to show you the shores of Fontaine, the vast underwater world that lies beneath this city of endless laws and spectacles of varying levels. It's been so long... and I've forgotten most of my old life by now... you're the last thing I have from that life."

He leaned out the window once more, cradling that egg in his arms, the shell shimmering lazily as more rain fell, the droplets sliding across the smooth surface. 

"They say when it rains, it's because the Hydro dragon weeps. I wonder when they'll realize it is I."

A knock on the door sounded, and he turned, almost panic-stricken. 

"Just a moment, I have a document to finish reviewing," he lied through his teeth, speedwalking towards that carefully hidden compartment. Tenderly he laid the egg within the compartment, wiping away the remaining water that stuck to the shell. He then turned and shut the windows, dashing to his desk as he grabbed a random document. 

"Come in. Please make this matter quick, I have paperwork to attend to," he called, forcing his face to become one of boredom, to become one of the typical blank faces he used on the daily as he sat down. Even if his face was so carefully blank, on the inside, he still wept. 

A Melusine peered into the office, a file in their hands. "This was dropped off by the Traveler. They found something they thought would interest you."

"Bring it here, I'll review it in my free time."

The Melusine toddled across the room, standing on the tip of their feet to push the file onto his desk, so helplessly short. He thanked the Melusine and offered a light smile, watching as the Melusine left the office, the door shutting behind them with a crisp click. 

Neuvillette glanced towards the file, thumbing it open as he skimmed the papers, sighing when he found it only pertained to an annoying cold case. 

It fell silent as he absorbed the information, a sudden crackle resounding. His head jerked towards the sound, straining his ears to pinpoint the sound. It crackled again, the crackling soft and delicate, like something was breaking. 

He shot from his seat as he moved towards where he hid his child, looking into the compartment to find the shell of the egg had indeed cracked, just a bit. The Dragon watched with bated breath, his eyes wide as the crack got larger, the sounds near nonexistent. 

Gradually the shell fell apart, and he was greeted by the near silent cry of his infant child, the baby weeping at the cold air. With a care that most would be shocked to see him have, he lifted his weeping child out, cradling the child close to his body as he whispered, "Good morning... my little child."

Already meticulous in his preparation for when and if his child was ever born, he pulled a blanket from the compartment, swaddling the child in the soft blanket. He smiled at the infant, noting the barely there white curls atop her head. 

When she stopped weeping at last and she stared at him with eyes like his own, he smiled and kissed her head. 

"I, Neuvillette, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, and the Hydro Dragon Sovereign reborn, ruler of the waters of old, welcome my heir and child into this world. And the name I shall give you, is Odette. I'm glad to see you."

Chapter Text

The Alcor groaned under the pressure of the large waves, the ship being tossed and thrown about in the sea. Shipmates ran about on the deck, grabbing ropes to stabilize the sails or to put them away, lest the wind blow too hard and throw the ship under the seething fury of the ocean. 

Kazuha listened to the whining of the wood and shouts of the men from below deck, covering the ears of his infant child as she hid inside his kimono, listening to his heartbeat pound against his chest. She was perhaps maybe a year and a half, so young and unknowing. Silently, the wanderering samurai cursed in his mind, planning on apologizing profusely to the captain of the ship if they ever escaped the eternal storm surrounding Inazuma. 

The pain of losing his wife and his only friend weighed heavy on him, and to lose another, to lose his child, he didn't think he could bear that loss too. 

His child squirmed in his arms, and he glanced down, finding her wide eyes staring at him, fear lacing them. It broke his heart to see that even a child so little could know fear. 

"It will be okay, my little dewdrop," he cooed, pressing a kiss to her head. 

She let out a soft whine, her small hands reaching up to pat his face, almost as if she knew he was... lying. Or at least, promising something that had very little chance of being kept. 

He smiled, offering whatever comfort he had to his child. The wind sang outside as thunder crashed just nearby, startling the baby. The infant wailed her little heart out, her cries joining the cacophonic orchestra of shouting sailors and rain pelting the ship relentlessly. 

Kazuha held her closer, swaying side to side a bit with slight bouncing. 

"Shhhhhh... it's okay, my dewdrop. It's okay. I'm right here, and we're going to be okay. You are safe, here in my arms, and I will hold you tight till the morning comes."

She continued to cry, tears staining her flushed chubby cheeks. He felt tears line his own eyes as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, wrapping his kimono around the child further. 

He almost collapsed when the wind stopped screaming and the ship smoothed out, the deck falling silent before filling with cheers and whoops of victory. 

"We made it, little dewdrop, we made it," he whispered, wiping away his child's tears. She sniffled at his touch, her eyes still watery. He pressed another kiss to her head as he stepped above deck, shielding her eyes from the sudden change in brightness, slowly allowing her to adjust to the sunlight. The child hiccupped and stared out at the ocean, eyes wide and tired. She rubbed at her eyes, cooing a bit before yawning. 

The crew all smiled to themselves, pride in their work showing on their faces. It wasn't much, but they'd rescued a Vision holder from Inazuma, along with his child. The wanderering samurai kissed his child's cheek, opening his mouth to sing in his native tongue.

"ねんねんころりよおころりよ。ぼうやはよい子だねんねな。ぼうやのお守りはどこへ行った。あの山こえて里へ行った。里のみやげに何もろうた。でんでん太鼓に笙の笛。"

"Sleep, baby, sleep. Oh, my baby, sleep. How lovely, how lovely, how nice you are. Where's the nurse, where's the girl? She's gone, she's gone, far across the hill! As a souvenir from her home town, what did she give you? A toy drum and a bamboo flute."

Chapter Text

Odette leapt her way across the stage, her pointe shoes lifting the dancer up as she stood on her toes, back arching into the twirl. The Opera Epiclese was empty, devoid of life except for her, and her father who watched from afar. But she didn't mind, she preferred to dance without an audience. 

Odette spun close to the ledge of the stage, stopping perhaps a wingspan away, leaving her father startled and nervous. From his spot, it looked like she'd been about to twirl right off the edge of the stage. With a grin she settled back into position, her feet lying flat on the stage. 

"Good morning, Father," she called, her white locks tumbling out of their loose bun to settle in loose curls, concealing the horns that adorned her own skull. Fontainians considered Odette a near perfect copy of their Chief Justice Neuvillette, and did not question it when Neuvillette had come forward to declare fathership over the girl. He was already considered the father of the Melusines, what was one more child? 

"Good morning, Odette. You gave me a fright there," he spoke, a hand on his cane as he moved towards the stage, his voice echoing across the auditorium. His footsteps were accompanied by the dull thud of the cane on the carpeted floor, leaving Odette to smile a bit to herself. 

Odette exited stage left, walking down the stairs to go meet him on the ground floor. "My apologies, father. I was choreographing a new ballet for myself."

"Oh? Do you have a name for it?" he asked, cocking his head. Neuvillette was infamous for becoming one of the biggest supporters of ballet in recent years, and that was solely due to Odette taking an interest in the art form. 

"I'm wanting to call it: Etoile."

Neuvillette nodded, humming to himself in approval. He thought it fit, so it was an appropriate name for the ballet. 

"Father, I noticed it was raining before I arrived here. Is there something troubling you?" she whispered, grasping his arm to give it a light squeeze. 

He turned to smile sadly at her, his cane vanishing into particles of water as he reached to pat her head. "Human behavior will always confuse me, Odette. There's a trial today wherein the accused murdered his wife over something so trivial as coming home late a few times. At least, that's the way the story is given to me. I've been alive for many centuries and still humanity manages to baffle me everyday. Foregoing basic needs and instinct for something else."

Odette nodded. "I suppose that is the punishment for us Lochfolk. Alienation and unable to understand human behavior. They're quite peculiar."

Neuvillette chuckled a bit. "Let's go home for awhile. I found a new café near our home that looks quite delicious. It is apparently run by someone from Mondstadt is what I've heard." 

"I'd love to, papa," she said. "I just need to change first before we do. And you... papa."

"Yes?" he asked, looking at his child with a raised eyebrow. 

She let go of his arm as she stood on her toes once more, grasping his face. With a soft, but loud cry, she proclaimed, "Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don't cry!"

He blinked, eyes widening a bit before letting out a chuckle. "I didn't realize people still said that nowadays."

"Freminet told me the legends, and he told me, that his mother would tell him stories, that whenever it rained in Fontaine, it would be because the Hydro Dragon weeps, and when he weeps, you should yell to the sky at the top of your lungs," she breathed, whispering, "Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don't cry, don't cry Hydro Dragon. So don't cry no more, papa, don't cry. We can go for a walk along the beach, and pick up seashells, and play with the otters, we can do things that make you happy, right after the trial."

"I think I'd like that very much, my daughter. But... I think I'd like to see your dance once more." 

Odette smiled and moved back towards the stage, looking back at Neuvillette as he sat himself down in the front row, front and center. 

"This is the ballet, of the Etoile," Odette declared, raising her arms towards the skies.

For once in Fontaine, it remained warm and sunny after a brutal trial.

Chapter Text

"Mama, where's papa?" 

That was a question the woman heard everyday from her son, the boy full of a curiosity that would probably never be extinguished. She'd smile at him and tell him, "Papa is away, papa is far away."

The reply was always followed with countless other questions, and when the boy stopped at last and went off to play, the woman would weep silently into her hands, knowing full well the truth will remain buried, swallowed up in the depths of the sea, separated by both the deep waters, and the dark, cold halls of the Fortress of Meropide. She'd fallen for a criminal, and it hurt to know that he was gone; that their son, whose existence wasn't even known to the man, would grow up wondering where his beloved papa went. Where did his papa go?

As he grew up, her little boy, her little Alphard, stopped asking. Like his father, he took up boxing and street fighting, often coming home bloodied. Whether it was his, or someone else's, she didn't dare ask whenever she had to patch him up. 

It was one such night, another night of stitching a wound shut when he finally spoke up, "I heard from the organizers of the boxing tournament that my father participated in the same place, and that they'd almost had a heart attack seeing me." 

At the words, she hesitated on the next stitch, not daring to make eye contact with Alphard. 

"Mother, where is father."

"He's away, far away," she replied. "It would be best if you stopped going... otherwise you'll join your father."

"What, six feet underground?" he sniped, cocking his head in that same wolfish, predatory angle that his father would do. 

She cut the thread as she pulled away the needle for the last time, tucking it inside the first aid kit. "No, he's not dead. He's... in the Fortress of Meropide. And... he was imprisoned before he could see you."

It fell quiet. "Did he know? About me? Before I was born?" he asked quietly, almost fearing the answer. He hung his head when his mother shook her own in answer. "I look like him, don't I, mother."

"A near perfect copy of him." 

"I want to know everything. Everything you remember about him." He clenched his hands and unfurled his fingers before clenching them shut again, testing the muscles and the tender parts that still ached. 

She told him what she could, telling him it was likely that Wriothesley had probably forgotten her too in the process of being imprisoned and staying there. His sentence had ended years ago, and yet... she was definitely forgotten if he remained within the Fortress, as its Duke no less. The one guy in there that posed a threat when angry. And the one guy who was probably too smart for his own good. 

Alphard hung to her every word, nodding every now and again, soaking up the information like a sponge. With every word, Alphard couldn't decided if he hated his father, or wanted to forgive him.

-----------------------------

Wriothesley shuffled through the paperwork at his desk, a cup of tea in his hand as his eyes shifted across the letters. Reports, budgets, new inmates, old inmates with their sentences served, letters to send to the overworld... how positively dull. He almost wanted a bit of action for once in his life, almost wanted something to threaten the Fortress. The Primordial Water incident didn't count, especially if a majority of it was solved by the oh-so-beloved Chief Justice Neuvillette. 

Wriothesley didn't hate Neuvillette per se, no, they were good friends, however that didn't stop him from feeling... somewhat vexed by the man's existence. If Neuvillette was even a man. He highly doubted that part. 

He frowned when the cup in his hands offered no more tea, already down to the dregs. With a sigh he put the cup down, running his hand through his hair and pulling on it a bit. The paperwork was swimming in front of his eyes. Groaning, he lay his head on his desk, nothing more than a wilted pile black and gray fur to those who had never seen him before. 

The Duke yawned a bit, blinking bleary eyes as he decided that perhaps... a nap was in order. He dozed peacefully in his seat, head cradled by his arms. Maybe it was a mistake to nap, he wondered to himself as the scenery around him became watery, blurry. 

This was a dream. Nothing more. He observed the surroundings, trying to pinpoint where he was within Fontaine when he felt a hand touch him, and somebody was beaming at him. She looked familiar, looked like she knew him, but he couldn't quite recall...

"Wriothesley! What did I tell you about those fighting rings? You're gonna get yourself killed!"

He opened his mouth to respond, but found... someone else replying for him. He was replying for himself. 

He watched as he, the him inside the dream, reassured the woman with a few kisses and a hug, whispering little nothings in her ear. Oh he remembered now. He grinned at being reminded of the woman he'd fallen in love with, and had...

Oh...

That's right...

He left her behind didn't he?

Wriothesley felt his face fall, lips curling into a frown as he contemplated their last interaction. 

"Wriothesley, you can't go! Please! I'll find a way to make you declared innocent, you can't go!"

"I have to, I am the one who committed the crime, regardless of what else anyone says." 

"No! No, I won't believe it! I won't have you going there when you haven't even met your own child!"

Time seemed to pause as he recalled that last bit. He'd shut her out at that point, declaring her to be desperate. He had never listened as to why she was so desperate to prove his innocence when there was none to be found. 

Scenery changed, seeing as he found himself staring at the blurry walls of his office, guilt settling over him. Did he have a child, somewhere out there in Teyvat? A child he hadn't known about? A child he'd blocked from his memories?

Ah, well, he'd been itching for a reason to take a small vacation for awhile. Perhaps a visit to the courts of Fontaine would do him some good. Maybe hunt down the woman and his kid. Yes, that was a fine idea.

-----------------------------

"And why do you want information on her?" Neuvillette mused, raising an eyebrow at the Duke of Meropide, a court case forgotten in his hands. 

"I... I just remembered something I need to finish. I never said goodbye to her."

Neuvillette hummed. "Well, I just happen to be having both her and her son coming in today to discuss something. A fighting ring has been caught dealing with illegal drugs, and we suspect her son has either dealings inside the fighting ring, or he's completely clueless. For her sake, I hope he's clueless."

"Monsieur Neuvillette, Alphard and his mother are here to see you."

Wriothesley jumped in his seat at the sudden appearance of the Melusine, papers in her arms as she reported to Neuvillette. He'd forgotten how short... most Melusines are. Short and small. Sigewinne didn't count. Not entirely.

"Thank you. Please, let them in," Neuvillette hummed warmly, giving the Melusine a rare smile. 

The Duke found himself getting anxious. Maybe coming here was a mistake after all.

The doors leading into Neuvillette's office swung open, and it took all of his willpower to not bolt upright out of his seat as a near perfect copy of him appeared in the doorway, the woman he loved right behind.

That boy... that was his hair. His eyes. His mouth that curled into a frown at the sight of him. 

"Please, come, sit down. I have merely a few questions to ask regarding the fighting ring you have been fighting in, Alphard," Neuvillette said, his voice smoother than the waters outside of the city. 

"What is he doing here?" came the question. Low and full of something that wasn't... joy. No, it was something with venom. Wariness lay in Alphard's eyes. Wriothesley found himself unable to keep eye contact. 

"The Duke of the Fortress of Meropide is skilled in detecting lies and hidden plots, so I invited him here to ensure we don't send another child to the Fortress," Neuvillette answered quickly, as if he'd thought ahead. Everything Neuvillette claimed was true however. 

Wriothesley was perhaps a little too skilled in reading people. 

"Alphard, let's just... answer honestly and we can go home," came the voice Wriothesley had come to love. Something in his heart broke at hearing it so... quiet and meek. What happened to the fiery woman he'd loved?

Wriothesley zoned out the entire discussion, his eyes torn between resting on the man who was undoubtedly his son and the woman he'd loved. He tried to convey his apologies, his sorrow at leaving. He should've fought to stay. To stay so he could... raise his son. It hit like a punch to the gut. 

His son never made eye contact with him, staring solely at the Chief Justice. Alphard's answers however, were truthful, and straight to the point. No flowery language. Just cold, brutal calculations. 

He shot to his feet when the discussion was over and the family he knew he had no home in started to leave. He reached forward and grasped the woman's hand, looking at her as he murmured his apologies.

"Wriothesley... I'm not the one you should apologize to..." she whispered, pulling her hand back. That hurt him more than he realized. "My son has been asking where you've been for years, Wriothesley. I couldn't tell him his father was a criminal."

That hurt too. My son. Not our son, not your son. My son. Why did that hurt? 

He turned his attention to Alphard who stood there, leaning against the doorway, arms folded. He opened his mouth to apologize, perhaps start anew, but a scarred, calloused hand shot up. 

"Save it. I never knew you, and you never knew me. Go back to your precious Fortress of Meropide, and leave us be. You made your choice when you still left to go be condemned. I don't want your apologies. You're only guilty cause you never said goodbye properly. Say goodbye to my mother. But not to me. You didn't even know I existed."

He flinched. He flinched. Wriothesley, flinched.

He opened his mouth again to explain, but Alphard left the Palais, leaving Wriothesley feeling... actually Wriothesley couldn't tell what he was feeling. A kicked puppy would be accurate if he had to put it into words. 

A hand grasped his bicep, and he looked towards the owner of that hand, the woman he'd loved smiling sadly at him. 

"I'm sorry Wriothesley. I tried to tell you. But..." she trailed off. "I almost died giving birth to him. He's all I got. I hope you find peace Wriothesley."

He didn't think he ever would. There wasn't enough words to convey his guilt, his sorrow. He had a son. And he never knew him.

Chapter Text

Neuvillette awoke in the middle of the night to rain pelting the windows to his bedroom, the cry of an infant reaching his ears. He slipped out of his bed, missing the warmth of the covers just a bit as he slid his feet into the slippers by his bedside. He made his way to the nursery not too far down the hall from his own room, bleary-eyed and half-asleep. He rubbed at his eyes as they observed the surroundings just in case. 

His hand grasped the cold metal of the door handle, the wood creaking a bit as it swung open to reveal the bassinet inside the room, his infant child crying within it. The Iudex smiled tenderly as he scooped up the child, swaying back and forth in his place to try and lull the baby back to sleep, or the calm her down enough to take care of her without too much fussing. 

"Hey... what's wrong my little etoile?" he whispered, kissing her forehead. She stared up at him with teary eyes, squirming in her swaddle. "It's raining you know," he mused, carefully laying her head over his heart. He raised a brow as her draconic tail found its way out of the blankets, wrapping around his torso loosely. He found the action endearing. He sighed and chuckled, shaking his head as he realized there was no way she'd let go of him. Not yet. 

"Odette, sweetheart, my little etoile, you do know I have to go to work tomorrow right? I need my sleep as much as you do."

Her hands fisted his night shirt instead, clinging to the fabric. She snuggled into his body, whining softly. 

"Ah. Nevermind then I suppose. I'll stay."

The Chief Justice ran an idle thumb down her back in soothing motions, continuing to sway a little bit to lull the baby back to sleep, humming a long forgotten lullaby. When the rain stopped, he began to whisper, "Did you know... that long ago, back when the Dragon Sovereigns still reigned, and the children wanted to play in the rain, they'd have to cry out to the skies, Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don't cry! I miss those days sometimes, miss the days where I had the power."

The skies began to clear, the moonlight filtering through the blue windows. It filled the nursery with a soft blue light, illuminating a father kissing his child's head. 

"I don't remember much from those days. But, I am glad I have you now, my etoile, my Odette. My treasure from days gone by."

The Dragon Sovereign remained within that nursery, holding his child, his small, so desperately tiny child, (she easily fit in both of his hands,) well into the night, unwilling to let her go. To let her go would be the equivalent of giving away his most prized possessions. 

And when the morning dawned, the sky turning pink and orange, the Dragon didn't let go. 

Chapter Text

Wriothesley stared at the woman in front of him, her features familiar yet so foreign. This was the mother to his child, to Alphard, the son he never knew he had. She'd come to him in the Fortress of Meropide under the guise of a trainee nurse to help Sigewinne. Which was partly true, he noticed. She was a brilliant medic, her attention to the bruises and cuts gained from the Pankration Ring near perfect. 

When he had asked where she'd gotten her knowledge, she merely gave him a pointed look and resumed stitching a nasty slash on his arm. She'd given him antibiotic ointment and spare bandages when he needed to change them out and then promptly sent him on his merry way out of the infirmary. 

He wanted to ask about his son, but everytime he mentioned the boy, he was shut down. Immediately.

The thoughts running rampant through his head vanished with the slight cough that she let out, her eyes narrowed over the rim of the teacup she currently drank from. 

Ah, right. He'd invited her into his office for a cup of tea. 

"Sorry about that, I was just thinking about something," he mused, stirring his own cup of tea to try and ground himself. 

"I understand you want to learn about my son," she started, Wriothesley nearly losing the rest of the sentence in the flash of hurt that wracked him. My son. Not our son. Or even your son. No. It was that phrase that hurt. "But if you want to learn about him, ask him yourself."

"You know he won't speak to me, right?" he ground out, setting down the spoon with a delicate hand. It took all the self-control he had to not slam it down. 

"Understandably so. You never wrote. You didn't come back to check on me. What was I, no, what was he supposed to think? His own father abandoned him?" 

He flinched, the word clanging around his head. As an orphan himself... he knew the feeling of abandonment intimately. 

"I had no choice, no chance. As soon as my sentence had ended and was served, I was suddenly promoted from prisoner to Duke and overseer of the Fortress. I can't leave for very long lest things get out of hand. Especially since there's likely to be an emergency very soon, and I need to stay here to keep it at bay. For the sake of the inmates, the sake of Fontaine, and for our son."

"My son, Wriothesley. He is my son. Not ours."

Again, that phrase. Something in his chest ached at the thought that his son, his own flesh and blood, considered him a stranger. A nobody. Perhaps some random sicko who wanted nothing more than a bit of fun for a night and ran away after learning of the consequences. 

Wriothesley was none of those things. 

His hand came to rub away at the ache in his chest, his face scrunched up as he breathed. "Either way, I can't leave for more than half a day, the situation is too dangerous to risk anything. Too dangerous to risk my presence being absent." 

She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, leg folded on top of the other one. If she hadn't been born from a low-ranking family... she would've blended in perfectly with the hidden aristocracy. That was a stare that could kill. Even if he could see right through it and see the woman she'd become. The meek, quiet and wary woman she had been when he saw her in Neuvillette's office with Alphard. 

"Fine, fine, you don't believe me, nobody does until they see it," he proclaimed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. The chair he'd claimed screeched against the metal floor as he stood. "Come on, I'll show you the thing that is keeping me here."

He began his descent down the stairs, looking back to make sure she was following. Once he was satisfied at seeing her following him, he resumed his descent, reaching for the hidden switch in the wall once he reached the bottom. The ground opened up, revealing another staircase. 

"Down here, underneath this very office, is the biggest threat to Fontaine as we know it," he spoke, his face icy and grim. "If it was to escape... everything and everyone in Fontaine will be wiped out, dissolved into the waters. We would cease to exist."

"And what exactly is it?" she questioned as they arrived at the bottom of the stairs once again, allowing the Duke to guide her to a pressure plate in the middle of the floor. 

Wriothesley looked around, his eyes scanning the walls as the floor underneath them groaned and began to sink, merely nothing but a hidden elevator. 

"Remember the serial cases of the missing women... for 20 years? And the weapon being water from the Primordial Sea? Underneath the Fortress of Meropide lies the Primordial Sea, and the only thing preventing it from escaping is this barrier, and it's going to break. I'm the last line of defense against it, unless the Chief Justice can get here in time to stop the flow."

They faced the doors leading to where the Primordial Sea lay, preparing to strike and swallow the Fortress whole. It had been leaking steadily into the waters surrounding the Fortress already. It was only a matter of time before the doors broke. 

He opened the doors leading into the room, the metal barriers groaning as they revealed the chamber. Without hesitation she stepped forward, eyes scanning the room. 

"This is why you've been unable to leave?" she asked, staring down at the door guarding the entrance to the waters. The gauge in the middle sat in the red, the arrow twitching and groaning. 

Wriothesley nodded, folding his arms as he observed her. "As I said before, if the water escapes, I am the last line of defense until the Chief Justice arrives to take care of it."

She turned to him, a frown on her face. "Why didn't you tell me... until now?"

Wriothesley ducked his head. "I couldn't. Neuvillette told me it had to remain a secret. It's been the Fortress's secret since it was built. I wanted to come back badly, see you and Alphard. But... with that threat... I couldn't leave."

He stumbled as he was pulled into her embrace, her head resting on his collarbone. "You could've at least written..."

"I know that now. And I'm sorry. I thought you would've moved on by the time my sentence was served."

She didn't reply, but he didn't mind. At least one person seemed to forgive him. Even if that forgiveness was short-lived.

-----------------------------

Alphard received word of his mother's passing days later. 

He crumpled the letter in his hands, letting out a frustrated yell as he punched the wall beside him, the white stone cracking and crumbling. Everyone gave the man a wide berth, murmuring about his strength. He didn't hear them as his thoughts roared in his ears, as he became unaware of the Melusines trying to snap him out of his daze. 

His mother was gone, swallowed up in the depths of the sea, nothing more than sea foam. 

"Monsieur, please do not disrupt public peace. Anymore damage to the city and we will have to take you to court."

He blinked, the warning settling on him. "Right... right. I'm sorry, I let my temper get the better of me," he murmured, his head hung low. Tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants, he walked away, making eye contact with no one. "I'll pay for the damages later today," he called to no one in particular, but the Melusines heard him. They only wondered what would make a man that treated them well so angry. 

Alphard wandered through the court, leaving the city as quickly as he could. He needed to fight something. Someone. Release a bit of the destructive anger he'd taken such great care to keep from his precious mother. The Hydro vision he bore flared from the choker around his throat, delicate tendrils weaving around his fingers as he stumbled upon a camp of Hilichurls. 

They'd have to do. 

-----------------------------

"Wriothesley, you do realize your son is wreaking havoc across Fontaine's countryside?" Neuvillette began, giving the Duke a light glare. "I've had countless cases regarding his destructive behavior. Unless he is stopped, he will be sent to the Fortress."

The Duke's eyes shifted towards the floor. He hadn't considered... hadn't given thought to Alphard's own reactions. He was a poor excuse of a father. "Have you seen how he acts around me? The kid hates me, Neuvillette," Wriothesley said, leveling a stare at the Iudex. 

"You are his only remaining relative, and perhaps there's a bond somewhere there. Like calls to like, flesh and blood call to flesh and blood. Surely you can put a stop to this."

Wriothesley stood from his seat, an idea coming to mind. "Send the boy to the Fortress of Meropide... perhaps he'll have some sense beaten into him."

"Surely you don't intend to harm your child?" Neuvillette asked, eyesbrows rising in something akin to shock and surprise. The Duke dutifully ignored that. 

"No, no I don't. But maybe a few rounds in the Pankration Ring with the other inmates might let him settle. Get him comfortable. If he wants to fight his way out of this spiral, then so be it. But it will be in a place where I can watch and intervene at any given time."

Neuvillette nodded, considering the idea, weighing pros and cons. "Very well then."

-----------------------------

Alphard weighed his opponent in front of him, fists guarding his face, as he observed the body, the stance. It would either be over quickly or it would be a long fight. That would depend on whether or not the opponent would hurry up and throw the first punch. 

Something about his opponent felt familiar, like looking in the mirror. They had nearly the same stances, the same build. However he couldn't see his opponent's face. His patience ran thin as he feinted a left hook for the head,  instead aiming for the gut. He found a knee awaiting his face as his eyes widened, moving instead to block. The bones in Alphard'a arm bleated in pain, throbbing at the impact. They were surely fractured in places. 

He moved to swing again, this time sweeping the leg to knock out his opponent's balance. He felt so sure of himself, so certain the opponent would kiss the ground. 

Too bad that the Duke had other ideas. 

-----------------------------

Alphard awoke in the infirmary, arms in casts, and his skull throbbing. His jaw was tight, and his arms tingled, almost numb. He turned his attention to the Melusine that now stared at him, the same Melusine gesturing and talking with... his father. As much as it pained his jaw, he managed to morph his face into a frown as he looked away, grumbling to himself. 

"How are you feelin' there kiddo?" the Duke asked, sitting on the edge of the infirmary bed. "Took a nasty fall into the floor there."

Alphard couldn't help it as his eyes turned towards the Duke, but he remained silent as he considered risking his arms to punch the man. 

Wriothesley looked towards his son as he pondered everything that had led up to this point. Alphard really was a spitting image of him, a near perfect copy of the Duke. Minus all the scarring, the physical ones anyways. The scars that ran across his son were beneath the skin. 

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you growing up, Alphard. I thought your mother had moved on by the time my sentence in here had been served. So I stayed. Might we start over? A clean slate?" Wriothesley offered, a sheepish smile creeping on his face. 

The Melusine watched the interaction with wide, worried eyes. This would either go well, or poorly. 

"Did you even try to respond to her letters?" Alphard murmured, turning his head away once more. 

"I... never got any letters..." he whispered, hanging his head, smiling sadly. "Getting postal here unless the inmate sends first is difficult. Well, it was anyways when I wasn't Duke. I now make sure every parcel and letter is delivered."

"... Why didn't you at least come to visit? Confirm whether or not mom moved on?" 

"Well, I must admit, I was terrified kiddo. Would society accept me? Would your mother? Would you, my son, who I'd never seen, who'd never seen me, accept me? I figured it would be better in the end if I stayed here."

He reached forward and put a hand on Alphard's head, ruffling his hair a little bit, careful to not irritate him. 

"Clean slate? We can start over, and I can give you a few pointers on your fighting too. If you want, we can even go fishing, or perhaps even swimming out in the dark depths," Wriothesley rattled off before going quiet, offering Alphard the gentlest of smiles that he could muster. "Can I have that chance to be your father, to get to know my son?"

"You get half a year's trial. A test run," Alphard answered, looking at his father with teary eyes. "Then I'll decide if I want to accept you as my father or not."

Wriothesley smiled. "Fair enough kiddo. Fair enough."

Chapter Text

Very few words would be able to describe the devastation across the land. Even fewer would be able to describe his conflicting emotions. The Geo Dragon, Rex Lapis, was torn between remaining in the base camp to lead from behind, like any proper general (and to protect his hatchling and pregnant mate), or going on the front lines like a fool to fight with his people. 

He lay with his mate, his tail entwined with hers, their half-draconic forms curled around their son. His arms lay across his child and mate, one of his hands splayed across the swell of her belly, reminding himself constantly that his mate was okay, his unborn child was okay, and that his beloved son was okay. 

His biggest dreams and fears had come true. For a female dragon to already be able to bear another child, another hatchling, was a near impossible chance. So little were the chances, it was an ugly truth to consider it zero. Yet... those slim odds had turned their head and given him a child, so poorly placed at the start of the war. 

He feared the Archon War would strip him of his family, of his mate and children. He feared the Archon War would cause his family to lose a father, and the loss of any dragon, when they were already so close to extinction, was too great of a loss. It was one he would be unable to bear. 

Sleep evaded Rex Lapis as he stared at his dozing mate, his wife, his beloved for eternity, wondering if that night would be his last. Would he be killed? Even with the blood of an immortal dragon thrumming through his veins... he was still able to be killed. 

"What's wrong, love?" came his lover's voice, her eyes bleary from sleep. She lay a hand across his own, the unborn child greeting them both with swift kicks. She muttered under her breath, "Oh calm down little one, it's just your father and I." 

He couldn't help the smile that came over his face, the knowledge of knowing his family was safe here in his arms a soothing notion. Their son yawned and stretched, the toddler snuggling against them both as he sought their warmth, the boy's arms covered in dark scales. Two nubs sprouted from his curls; they were subtle signs of his Adeptal and Draconic heritage. 

Sunlight began to filter into the tent, revealing a somber, worried wife to the Archon.

"Must you go?" she whispered, her hand coming up to cup his cheek, her thumb running across his cheekbone. He smiled sadly at her. 

"My love, my mate, my soul-bound... even if I stay behind and lead as the typical general... bedrock will always turn to dust one day. And I, the bedrock, the foundation of this people and nation, will fade away, and turn to dust. If I die today, or tomorrow, or perhaps never, the people will have you as their foundation, will have our children as their pillars. If I die, I only have one request," he murmured, turning his gaze towards their son, whose hands clung to the Archon's night clothes. "Live."

As if the boy had heard the words in his slumber, his hands, still chubby with baby fat, tightened their fierce grip. Zhongli ran his fingers through the dark curls, basking in the quiet moments before the rest of the camp would wake up and prepare for another brutal battle. He treasured these little nuggets of time like gold, soaking up the feelings of the touches from his child and mate, tucking away the innate male pride whenever his unborn baby kicked his hand in greeting. 

He kissed his son's head and his mate goodbye when war called him once more.

"May I continue to shine like gold, in your memories, should I ever be lost, should I ever join the people in death. Live, my mate. For me."

Chapter Text

Amongst the white and blue blooms, the Twilight Sword smiled at his giggling daughter as she pat his face, giving him her best grin. 

"Papa, I wanna take flowers to mama!" she chirped, looking around at the dancing flowers, reaching out to touch the petals from her spot on her father's lap. He pressed a kiss to her head, chuckling.

"Oh? Why do you want to?"

"So I can make mama a pretty vase so she feels better! I don't want mama to feel sad no more. Mama's looked so sad... especially because she's sick, papa. I don't want mama to be sad."

Dainsleif couldn't help the pang of adoration that filtered onto his face as he smiled at his child, nodding his head. 

"I think that's a wonderful idea, my little Gunhilde."

-----------------------------

The door leading to Dainsleif and his wife's shared room creaked open as Gunhilde opened the door, toddling in with a vase wrapped in her arms. 

"Mama! Mama! Look look! I went with papa and we got you flowers to help you feel better mama!" Gunhilde chirped proudly, setting the vase on the bedside table. 

Her weary mother glanced over towards the face, her pale sick face morphing into a gentle smile as she struggled to sit up, giving a chuckle in response. "They're very lovely, Gunhilde. Thank you, my sweet child."

The child climbed onto the bed to give her mother a big hug, the interaction being monitored by Dainsleif. A lazy smile made its home on his lips as he strode into the room, adjusting a few of the flowers before joining his child and wife in the hug, putting his arms around them both. 

"Isn't our little Gunhilde precious?" his wife asked, smiling at Dainsleif as Gunhilde snuggled into their bodies, a grin on her little face. 

Dainsleif couldn't help but agree as he held his family close, kissing the both of them on their heads. "I wouldn't change anything for the world. This... this right here, in my arms, is already perfect. I need absolutely nothing else but my wife and my child, here in my arms."

It fell silent as the family spent time together, enjoying the tender silence. 

The silence was broken by a happy chirp. "Hey papa, isn't uncle Halfdan coming over today to play some games?"

A chuckle became the response as Dainsleif ran his fingers through Gunhilde's hair. "Yes, yes he is coming over." 

Chapter Text

The puppet sat across from the tiny Dendro Archon, the female swinging her legs as she smiled at him. The room was empty, barren and void of life except for himself and the Archon, and a few couches. The childish Archon had figured this room would be best for the conversation ahead, seeing as it hadn't been entirely finished yet.

"I know my visit is unexpected, but I had the feeling that you needed somebody to talk to."

The puppet raised an eyebrow at this. "I have my wife, isn't she enough?"

She opened her eyes, those green hues beaming with joy. "You got married? I'm so happy for you, congratulations! How long have you been married?"

"... about half a year…" he murmured, turning his attention towards the door, almost as if he was praying his wife was on the other side. 

The child clapped her hands together, smiling happily at the puppet. "I'm so glad you've found someone who makes you happy, you've been alone for so long. Have you two thought about starting a family?"

To this the puppet froze in place, tensing his entire body as his fingers curled into the couch cushion underneath him. His chin dipped as he sucked in a breath, not daring to make eye contact. 

"I'm not fit to be a father," he hissed. "I never will be."

It fell silent for a few moments, as if the Archon was considering her next words carefully. At last she piped up, "What makes you say that?"

"With all due respect, Lord Kusanali, this is a living being we're talking about. A living being that is innocent and pure, and untainted. I am a mass murderer, a man that leaves nothing but carnage and ruin in his wake," he spat, fingers curling into fists. "I can't taint an innocent baby, especially if it is my own. Besides, I don't think my creator gave me that kind of ability. I'm a puppet, not a human being. I am, by all definitions, not alive. I don't need this infant child to be corrupted by my views of this pathetic world, much less become like me."

"... Your name is Kazuhiko, right? Kazuhiko Hikaru Fujin? Tell me the meaning of your first and middle name. Your wife picked them, didn't she?" Kusanali asked, her heart full of an aching sadness. 

The puppet took a heaving breath before whispering, "Kazuhiko, meaning harmonious prince. Hikaru, meaning radiant, blessed child." 

"Why do you think she picked them?"

He fell silent as he considered the meaning, considered the joy that appeared on his wife's face whenever she chirped his name. 

Small hands grasped his own, patting the back of his hands lightly.

"In my opinion… someone who has considered the well-being of another living thing without a form of attachment, of any kind, then, I believe they're the best candidate to take care of that living thing. Whether it be an injured animal, a baby, or even a plant. You may not believe it, but you're genuinely a gentle, warm person. Look at how you treat your wife," she said, putting a hand on his face. 

"Kusanali… I'm still unfit to be a father. Even if you say I am." 

"Every parent has that thought. That they'll raise their baby wrong, or that they'll be utter failures. I believe that if the child remembers more happy, trusting memories with their parents, then they did it right. Children are precious and need to be treated as such."

"What if I turn out like my creator? What if my child grows to resent me?" he whispered, his eyes shut tight in an attempt to stop himself from crying. He was afraid. Afraid of everything that a child meant to him. He wanted a baby of his own, terribly so. But his own inner child still hurt; the three times he'd been left behind a lasting wound. His wife's inner child still hurt; her emotions a dangerous thing, and something that took her longer than most to process. What good would two parents that had trauma surrounding their own parents be?

What good would parents, who barely trusted others with what little remained unfractured, do? What good would parents, who had minds wired in ways that made them so distant from the world, do for a pure baby?

A single tear slipped down his pale cheek, the puppet trembling in his place. 

"These are all what-ifs, and ones that can easily be prevented. It's up to you and your wife if you want a child, and if it turns out that you're infertile… you could always adopt a child."

It fell silent as the puppet silently cried, his head hung low. 

"Your tears are proof that you are fit to be a father, Kazuhiko… that care for a baby that doesn't even exist right now, those worried, fearful questions are more proof that you are fit. You've considered this child's well-being above all else."

The Archon looked at him sadly, patting his tear-stained cheek. "I won't push you. Frankly, no one will. The pace at which you move is your own, and if you move at the pace of a snail, then that is perfectly okay. I trust you will make the right decision, and I trust that your wife will make it with you, and that it will be for yours and her benefit."

He continued to weep, his porcelain face full of unspoken grief. How could someone like himself, abandoned when he was born, care for a delicate living being? He felt so lost.

"You may not believe it, but, I believe you, as imperfect as you are, are completely capable. To be human is to worry, to be imperfect, to make mistakes and fail. And you're as human as anyone else. Live, Kazuhiko. Live."

Chapter Text

Alhaitham trudged through the forests of Liyue, Sumeru far behind him. He was weary and tired, nightmares chasing him from his sleep almost every night. 

The few nights he wasn't chased from slumber... 

He didn't dare finish that thought lest tears come and sweep him away.

Kaveh walked beside him, side-eyeing him every now and again, as if checking on the Scribe. The caravan of refugees from Sumeru paused by a river, filling waterskins and barrels for the long road ahead of looking for a new home. After all... the destruction of Sumeru was a hard memory, still fresh in their minds.

The Scribe drifted from the caravan, pausing a little ways off before sitting on the riverbank, letting out a quiet groan. Alhaitham stared blankly at the waters surface, again seeing that little white-haired goddess as she looked at him sadly in his reflection.

Alhaitham, why do you never listen to me when you dream? You know how they always end, so why do you make yourself relive the memories?

He heard her voice bright as day, and he couldn't answer. Perhaps some... foolish, human hope that maybe this life was a dream instead, and that his wife and little baby daughter were fine, and not killed for merely existing in a place that had committed the same sin a long lost nation had 500 years ago. 

The Scribe vaguely knew of Kaveh keeping an eye on him lest he try something foolish and idiotic, but... Alhaitham was weary, and too tired to try anything beyond staring off into the distance, pinching himself to see if it was dream or reality. 

"You've been staring at the horizon for awhile, Alhaitham. You're doing okay, right?" Kaveh asked, sitting down by the Scribe. Mehrak followed close behind, following Kaveh like a puppy would. Alhaitham's gaze turned towards the worried blond before he sighed, hanging his head. 

"I keep hoping this is all just a bad dream, Kaveh. But it's not. My family is truly gone."

For once the talkative blond was at a loss for words, unable to think of what he could even say to try and comfort the Scribe. Instead he put a hand on Alhaitham's shoulder, his eyes going to the single, small sack that Alhaitham carried around like it carried the most important thing he owned at the moment. 

He had his suspicions that it was the little teddy bear that Alhaitham had given to his child. Such a small thing, yet... the small things could cause the most painful reminders, Kaveh reminded himself as he recalled the countless nights of laying in his cot, listening to Alhaitham toss and turn, his face scrunched up in agony, and finally the accompanying, quiet cry of, "No! No! No no no no!"

Kaveh shook his head, scattering the thoughts away. There were things he wanted to say but... he knew how delicate the situation, no, how delicate the man was. A dangerous man is a man who is irrevocably in love, and Alhaitham was that man. At least... until Sumeru had been destroyed by the Heavenly Principles. Now he was an irrevocable man with his beloved taken from him. Perhaps that was even more dangerous. The line between the quiet, zombie-like Alhaitham and a reckless, angry Alhaitham was thin. 

Words would have to be considered carefully. Kaveh doubted there would be enough words, both in the common tongue and the Sumerian tongue to express his sympathies and apologies for the devastating loss. Kaveh knew that loss, far too well, but... it wouldn't be enough to soothe the hurt the Scribe felt. 

"I'm sorry." 

Alhaitham's head hung lower as Kaveh murmured those two words, the Scribe's hands grasping that sack as he reached in, but never pulling out the contents. His fingers ran over the felt cloth, circling the button eyes in an attempt to soothe himself. 

Kaveh was about to leave the Scribe when he spoke. 

"I took all 9 months of my wife's pregnancy to make this little bear for my child. When she was born... I thought I knew joy before that moment, but getting to hold her as she cried for the first time, weeping and scared... I can't describe the feeling of knowing, this was my child. This was my flesh and blood, crying in my arms, crying in my wife's arms when she was laid upon my wife to familiarize herself with her mother. She was so small, so tiny. No bigger than those forest fairies that the children would babble about."

The architect paused and looked at Alhaitham, blinking in surprise. Changing his mind about leaving, he sat beside the Scribe, listening intently. 

"Can you tell me more?" he asked quietly, bringing his knees against himself. 

Alhaitham closed his eyes, letting out a shuddering breath. "Her first word was dada. I'd never been more proud in my life to be a father as she wiggled in my arms, waving her little arms around as she happily called for me. The way her hands would pat at my face, her eyes shining with a childish adoration..." he drifted off, his face crestfallen. "My wife protested jokingly when our daughter kept repeating dada over and over, smothering her chubby face with kisses. She... her birthday was tomorrow."

Pain shot through Kaveh's chest at the thought that... Alhaitham's daughter hadn't even been a year old. He pondered for a moment, before whispering to the Scribe...

"Then we'll give her a birthday tomorrow. Even though she is gone... we can make little flower crowns and float them down the river in memory of her. It will be okay one day, Alhaitham. I know it hurts right now, but... one day, one day we'll be able to find our joy again."

Kaveh stood up, brushing sand from his pants as he held out a hand towards Alhaitham. "Come on, let's go look for flowers right now so we can release the crowns at first light."

Alhaitham took Kaveh's outstretched hand silently, his free hand curled around the sack. Wordlessly he reached inside once he withdrew to his full height, revealing the little bear to Kaveh's sight. 

Kaveh's heart broke at the tenderness and care that Alhaitham displayed, realizing that perhaps... Alhaitham would always be, first and foremost, a father with no family left...

Chapter Text

Not a sound stirred throughout the manor in which the Hydro Sovereign dwelt, darkness chased off only by the full moon and the reflection of the delicate rays on the snow swirling adrift beyond the marbled walls. A Dragon slipped through the carpeted halls, the deep blue of the plush rugs silencing his every step, his tail for once out and about, dragging across the floor behind him, silent, slithering, and ice cold. 

There was a delicate warmth sitting in the halls of the manor, wrapping around the Dragon and the bundled child dozing in his arms, the child nuzzling into his body with sleepy coos and the occasional toothless yawn. A soft smile etched itself onto his pale face, cozy and gentle like a dollop of whipped cream atop a slice of pie, or perhaps a cup of hot cocoa. His snow-white hair was unbound, flowing behind him, akin to the sleeping waves of the lake that Fontaine sat upon, waves loose and near flat. The horns that adorned his head, his crown and proof of his ancient heritage, glowed with a light softer than the moon, illuminating the halls. The glow was dim and subtle, but those with a trained eye could see. 

The male paused in front of a window, a hand moving aside a thin curtain to watch the world beyond the manor, his draconic eyes gleaming silver in the light. He turned to the slumbering babe in his arms, letting the curtain fall back into place as he caressed the rosy chubby cheek, earning a faint joyful gurgle and the child leaning into his touch. Amongst the white locks curling on the scalp of the baby's head sat horns akin to his own, small, new, and barely there. Slipping from the swaddle, the child's tail curled around his arm, almost as if... it was like a reassurance that the Dragon was real, a confirmation that, yes, this was truth. 

The Sovereign couldn't help himself as he pressed a soft but long kiss to the baby's forehead, his eyes sliding shut as he took in the tender vulnerability of the moment, allowing it to fill his person. 

It is a pitiful thing to know that there will never be sufficient words in any language or tongue to describe the tender love a father has for a child in his arms, sufficient enough to say it with eloquent meaning. 

As the Sovereign continued his slow walk down the halls of his manor, the silence remained over the land, time seeming to pause, as if it wanted the Sovereign to remember the moment in a purity that would leave even a virgin stained. 

It is a silent night. All is calm. All is bright. My infant, so tender and mild, may you sleep in peace, oh, sleep in peace.

My little etoile.

Chapter Text

Ayato's hands, now slightly wrinkled with age, paused as he considered his next move on the chess board, periwinkle hues narrowing as he glanced towards his eldest daughter, a near perfect copy of himself. Her long locks had been pulled back into a tight bun, not a strand out of place. It almost looked painful to him, but perhaps... perhaps she did it on purpose. Or just kept her hair under her thumb so tightly it dared not rebel. 

"Father, you're stalling again."

He smiled and moved a piece across the board, chuckling. "My apologies, I got lost in thought."

She hummed as she countered him, leaving him almost helpless on the board. This was an unusual thing for him, to be losing like this. Had his own father remained alive now... perhaps he'd be laughing at him. 

"My child, I'm growing old, and I won't be able to continue my duties as the Head of the Kamisato clan. As my only child, and sole Heir... I humbly ask that you prepare yourself for the title of Yashiro Commissioner," he murmured, lifting a nearby cup of tea to his lips to drink of it, moving another piece when he took that sip.

Ayato knew he'd lost that round as soon as the chip made contact with the board. 

"I've been prepared for a few months now, father. I've been checking and rechecking every document you've sent out for the past year, and transcribing my own to practice on. With the help of Thoma, of course."

"Surely you don't think this is child's play?"

"Father, I've been observing you my whole life. I know what is expected of the Kamisato clan and of the Yashiro Commissioner," she quipped, swiftly beating him on the board, thus ending the game. She turned those eyes towards him, and he found himself startled at the coldness of her gaze, the unrelenting, unwavering determination lying in those periwinkle depths. There was a cunning gleam in them, not a single scrap, no, not even a crumb of innocence left in that face. "Give up the heavy crown; give up the mantle, the title, the burden. Give me the weight of the burden our family has shouldered for generations, and I will bear it for years to come until I pass it on to my own child. Live out the rest of your days in peace and tranquility, without a care in the world, and trust that I, your child, your beloved sakura blossom, will take that crown, and bear it with my chin held high."

Ayato blinked in shock, his mask crumbling as he felt something heavy be lifted from his shoulders. He closed his eyes, cocking his head towards her in meek submission. 

"Then we shall prepare the necessary documents and other such things. Inazuma will soon know its new Yashiro Commissioner."

Chapter Text

The Dendro Archon kept a close eye on the little child inside the Sanctuary of Surasthana, the little girl's tongue sticking out of her mouth as she focused all her little might into the small doll in her hands. The child cried out in pain when she pricked her thumb with the needle, earning the Dendro Archon's full attention.

"What happened Koko?" Nahida asked, taking the injured hand into her own to observe the wound. 

Koko sniffled, carefully setting down the little doll. "I poked myself with the needle."

Nahida glanced down at the doll, smiling at how alike Koko and the doll looked. It would make a wonderful present for the man that was currently away, having been forced to attend a history lecture on Inazuma. She held back a light chuckle as she imagined the male scowling at every incorrect snippet presented, if there was anything incorrect. Born and bred Inazuman with half a century tucked into his memory, his mind.

And by technicalities, despite being left behind... he was also an Inazuman prince of some sort. Maybe an illegitimate one since he'd been quickly left alone after his birth. A son not acknowledged by the Archon. 

Not that it mattered to Lesser Lord Kusanali, the male was as human as the rest of her people, and always one of her subjects. 

Even if he sent a good chunk of them running out of fear. 

She bandaged the little girl's thumb, giving it a light pat when she finished. "All done, Koko! How close are you to being done with your father's present?"

Koko picked up the doll once more, glancing at the Archon before beaming, "I just need to finish the eye and she's all done!"

Nahida nodded, returning to the dark chocolate cake in front of her. She knew the male detested anything sweet and always claimed he preferred his foods to be bitter. An odd notion to think about when most preferred the delight of sweetness bursting on the tongue, but when she considered his life... maybe bitter was how he processed his experiences. 

Some used music to process a feeling, such as grief or anger. Some used books or writing to process it. Maybe the bitterness of certain dishes, such as his signature dish that steeped in bitter green tea, let him process and feel things. 

Nahida's eyes were then drawn to the doll that male had made and given to Koko, the single solitary tear a silent testament to the agony that remained unsung. It sat beside Koko, draped across her leg as the child attached the last eye to her own doll. 

Her thoughts scattered when Koko cheered and help up the completed doll, the little thing a doll-like replica of Koko. 

"I know papa makes toys sometimes... but he never makes one for himself... so I made this one for papa! I will always be with papa wherever he goes, even when I'm gone and far away," Koko declared, turning towards the door. She paused for a minute before sheepishly looking at Nahida. "Can... can I go find papa and give it to him?"

The lecture would be ending in a few minutes, Nahida recalled as she considered whether it would be better to wait or send the child toddling off anyways. Eventually she nodded and Koko darted out the doors with both of the dolls in her arms, her blue dress whispering behind her as she stepped out into the Sumerian sun. 

-----------------------------

Koko darted down the stone walkways, looking left and right for the male she called father, for that flash of white and blue. Students milled about, textbooks in arms or clinging to bags and papers of every kind, chattering with each other or desperately racing the clock to get to class with a piece of toast in their mouth. 

She giggled at a panicking blond male as he sprinted past, blueprints in his arms and a chittering case following after him as he cried, "I know, I know! But this is a big opportunity for me Mehrak!" 

Koko resumed darting around the students, nimble and quick as a mouse. When she saw no signs of her father, she peered up into the foliage and little trees she saw around, knowing that sometimes he hid himself in the crooks and crannies that nature provided. 

When that didn't work, she ran to the doors leading to the Akademiya itself, pushing them open with her little might before slipping inside. As she made her way towards the fountain, a Mahamatra stopped her with a hand as she attempted to go farther.

"Sorry little one, only students are allowed beyond this point."

Koko glanced up at the guard, blinking at him. "But... I'm looking for papa. I got something super important for papa."

The guard crouched down and asked, "Well what's his name?"

"Uh..."

It dawned on Koko she had no idea what his name even was. The name she knew he used to go by was fuzzy in her mind, and frankly felt wrong. She ducked her head and pouted, tears lining her eyes as she realized she didn't know his name. 

"I'm going to need you to leave—" the Mahamatra began before being interrupted.

"Koko? What are you doing here sweetheart?" came her father's voice as she perked up.

She looked towards the source of the voice, finding her father in the middle of crouching down, his arms spreading open. Koko beamed, dashing right into his awaiting arms as fast as her little legs would allow.

"Papa!" she chirped, her face full of joy. 

The male swept her up into his arms and stood to his full height, shooting a light glare at the Mahamatra before turning his indigo gaze at Koko as she grinned at him. 

"I made you something papa!"

"Oh?" he mused, raising an eyebrow as his face softened. 

A few students who witnessed the scene whispered to themselves, shocked to see usually a stoic, grumpy man be so soft and gentle. 

Koko held up the doll replica, tucking it carefully in his yukata, right over where his heart should be. 

"I made you a doll of me so that way, when we aren't together, papa, I will always be with you!" she declared, wrapping her arms around his neck as she gave him a big hug. 

He blinked in shock, startled as he returned the hug, chuckling a bit. "Where did this come from, Koko?" he asked, wondering why she'd done something like that for him.

"Papa, did you forget? It's your birthday! Happy birthday papa."

Another blink was the only sign of surprise he let out as he sighed with another chuckle, kissing Koko's head. 

"Thank you very much, Koko. I will treasure your gift forever."

He didn't dare admit it, but as Koko yawned in his arms, all tuckered out from her quest, the child slowly falling asleep, he almost cried when her last words left her lips before sleep claimed her entirely.

"Mmm... happy birthday... papa.... love you."

There were perhaps... a few tears shed as he walked back to the Sanctuary of Surasthana. 

Not that he would ever admit to crying over a few simple words. That is something he will wholeheartedly deny.

Happy birthday to you, fallen prince of Inazuma, happy birthday to you, wandering soul of the plains, happy birthday to you, a human and father like no other. 

Happy birthday to you, Kazuhiko Hikaru Fujin.

Chapter Text

The Hydro Sovereign knew full well that his domain was being taken from him, piece by piece by these... creatures from another world. Whenever one of the other Sovereigns fell, a Descender would carve out the heart of that Sovereign and take it for themselves. 

It filled his body with anger, and he wished to go out there, to defend his lands and people but...

He was shaken from his thoughts when his mate nudged his snout, looking at him with sad, worried eyes. Draconic instincts roared at him to stay and protect his mate and hatchling, the baby dragon pouncing on unsuspecting fireflies nearby with happy chirps and yips.

His tail twined with his mate's as he let out a soft sigh, his silvery hues watching as the hatchling jumped right into the pond of water, scattering the koi that lived in the waters. 

His mate huffed a laughed as the hatchling peeked out of the surface of the water, mewling for her mother as she swam out, making her way towards them both with water slipping from the pale baby blue scales. 

The hatchling curled up against her mother, her little mewls becoming muffled as she hid her face against her mother's body, tail curling around her leg.

Something in the Sovereign's heart ached with the tender love he held for his family, despite the brutal nature of his kind, of dragons and vishaps. He himself was classified as a Leviathan, a far superior version of Vishaps, so there was... perhaps something more sophisticated in his instincts, but he was still, first and foremost, a beast. 

The Dragon glanced towards the horizon, the sky beginning to weep with him as he observed the destruction that crept closer every day. His mate nudged him again in confirmation. She too, knew they must run. 

-----------------------------

Thunder grumbled and lightning struck the ground without mercy, the wind howling against the heavy rains. Mountainous spears struck the earth from the depressed, weeping sky as the Hydro Sovereign ushered his family away, pleading and begging for his mate to find somewhere safe to hide, somewhere safe to conceal their only child. 

He knew that his mate didn't want to leave his side, but... 

They didn't need to verbally communicate with each other. They knew each other down to the very last scale. His mate looked at him with hurt and sadness in her eyes, and he returned the sentiment, rain soon accompanying the destruction of the world around them. 

"Go, my mate. Take our child and conceal yourselves in the Abyss until I return. If I don't come back..."

"Don't say that, please... you'll come back won't you?"

He closed his eyes, nudging his snout against hers. Her tail twined with his, a soft, sad purr rumbling from her chest. 

"Go. I don't think I could bear living if I lost you here. Go."

His own chest ached and burned when she pulled away from him, nodding once. Carefully she plucked up their hatchling with her tail, the baby crying out in confusion and fright. The child glanced towards her father, mewling and crying for him. Tears lined her baby blue eyes as she let out a soft cry, her claws reaching for him. 

The Hydro Sovereign nuzzled his crying child, bidding his mate and child farewell as they fled the destruction, watching until they vanished out of sight. He sat there in the rain and cacophony, letting his despair wash over him at watching his family flee. 

Footsteps sounded behind him, and he turned towards the usurpers, snarling low in his throat, the sound guttural. He was the last male dragon on the planet, he could feel it in his bones, in his very soul. He knew this was a battle he would lose, but... he would at the very least, keep these invaders occupied long enough to give his beloved mate and child time. 

"Surrender and we'll make this as painless as possible for you, Hydro Dragon," said a brown-haired male, draconic horns curling from his head. 

So even the invaders made a mockery of his people to the very end... what had they done to deserve to be hunted?

As he prepared to attack, the sad gaze of another caught his eye, and he knew... he would lose his Authority to her. She was the last one to steal from the Sovereigns, and he was the last Sovereign. 

He moved first.

-----------------------------

As the rain poured, relentless in its onslaught, seeming to weep over the loss of the Hydro Sovereign... he lay there in the mud, his precious blood mixing with the water and dirt, flowing away from his fallen body. His white mane had become matted and stained, his horns broken. They had been his crowning feature, but even that had been taken from him. 

The usurpers stood over his body, watching as he heaved for what little breath he could tolerate before his body bleated in utter agony, eyes sliding shut with each passing breath that passed through his dying body. Again his attention had been taken by the last usurper, Egeria, he had heard from the mutterings of the rest. She stepped forward towards him,  moving towards him instead of his chest where his heart beat against his rib cage dully. 

Egeria laid a hand on his snout as she leaned forward to whisper in his ear, "I'm sorry, Hydro Dragon. This isn't what I wanted, but we have no choice. I place upon you a curse of rebirth, and that in your next life, you will regain your Authority, and my divine throne, the seat of the Hydro Archon, will be destroyed so completely that you will regain everything that you have now. Forgive me, Hydro Sovereign... for this isn't the justice you deserve."

He groaned, the rest of the Archons... that was an odd word... Archons...

He groaned again, the Archons tensing up and readying their weapons should he strike again but... he knew he was a fallen dragon. He opened his mouth to speak, not entirely knowing how to eloquently tell them what he wanted.

"Honor my last request, usurpers of the Dragon Sovereigns, destroyers of my world, before you take my crown...... allow me to pass in what little peace I have left before you take my Authority."

-----------------------------

It was a terrible thing to hear across the bloodstained world, the roar of a heartbroken mate as the bond between their souls snapped, the roar accompanied by the cries of a child that wasn't even half a year old. Dragons mated for life, and to lose a mate... it was a fate worse than death. The skies wept as the earth groaned, swallowing up the remains of the deceased Sovereigns. 

Stories of the dragons fell into obscurity as humans began to populate the planet, and many millennium passed away, the mate of the Hydro Sovereign passing away out of grief at the very bottom of the Abyss, buried alongside her hatchling that had perished by the hand of an Archon. 

Yet... somewhere, out there, where the gaze of the Gods did not fall, the earth cradled a newborn baby dragon, birthed after the collapse of Khaenri'ah, born and cursed to be in the body of a human boy... he cried. Deep in his soul, he did not feel the bond between him and his mate, and even though his human mind couldn't comprehend why he was so terribly sad... his draconic instincts knew he would be alone for the rest of his immortal life.  

Chapter Text

Neuvillette's footsteps were usually silent, minus the quiet click of the heel of his shoes, but today his steps were accompanied by the shuffle of sand moving as his weight pressed into the shorelines of Fontaine, the water singing a song as it lapped at the Iudex's shoes, as if they were greeting their ruler. 

He glanced out into the open waters to find the family of otters that lived near the Opera House swimming towards him, pink shells in their paws and chittering all the way. He couldn't help the soft smile that graced his face as he crouched down to play with them a bit, the male a beloved favorite amongst the sea life. Whilst he loved and was loved in return, even if his affections seemed to be... offstandish to most, they weren't entirely wrong that his affections were offstandish. 

He was known for being aloof and impartial, so much so that not a single soul knew his first name. "Neuvillette" was merely a placeholder, a last name to conceal his identity. And it was a name he hadn't heard since his previous life, since the only one who had known it...

He shut that thought down, blinking it away as he gave his full attention to the otters instead, giving a few a pet on the head. Whilst he had affection, none of it could be the full scope of his affections. 

That had been lost when he lost his mate. 

When a few minutes had passed by, he stood up to his full height once more, bidding the otters farewell before turning back to the Opera House with a sigh leaving his lips, an ache deep in his soul, his chest. A hand rubbed idly at the place in his chest that throbbed in muted agony, the emptiness of that place a permanent wound as he walked back, his cane supporting a majority of his weight as he stumbled now and again. 

His chest had been throbbing in agony lately, and he had no clue why. He'd been fine for almost five centuries, why did his heart ache like it had been broken all over again now?

Neuvillette struggled to recall the last time he'd felt this much pain, his breath hitching as he remembered the day he'd run into his mate, how his entire body had been wracked with pain until he got close, and how it never quite went away until he had mated her. 

He paused at the edge of the sandy shoreline, his cane in the grass as he wondered and dared hope... could it be?

Desperation filled his body as he looked about, scanning the surroundings for something, someone. Just a sign. Stumbling back onto the shorelines, he looked out towards the water, something in his gut pushing him there. It was like he had been caught in a trance, the male only snapping out of it once the water swirled around his legs, threatening to sweep him off of his feet and into the depths below. 

Neuvillette glanced over his shoulder, staring at the Opera House before looking at the city of Fontaine, eyes narrowing.

They would survive with him gone for a few hours. 

-----------------------------

How long had he been diving again?

He had not a clue since sunlight had quickly turned scarce and nonexistent as he swam into the heart of the oceans of Fontaine, following his instincts as they pulled him farther and farther into the depths of the water. It got colder and colder the deeper he swam, and the pressure on his body grew greater with every passing second. He struggled to move at times, especially when his chest hurt enough to temporarily incapacitate him. Had he been a human, he likely would've died on his descent down into the depths that remained in permanent darkness. 

The only source of light he had were the subtle glow of his horns and his own glowing eyes which didn't do much to illuminate his surroundings. But... it was better than going in with nothing to see by. 

His instincts tugged him forward, and he soon found himself staring at the entrance of a cave, the mouth gaping wide. Stalagmites and stalactites created the illusion of teeth, the sharp rocks glimmering with what little crystal they had in them. He pushed himself forward into the cave, wary but curious. 

The Iudex let out a strangled cry as pain, greater than what he had been experiencing on the surface wracked his body, the shocks that shot through him causing him to writhe and flail about in the water, losing his breath as he clutched at his chest, trying to sooth his heart into leaving him be for only a few moments more. 

If his suspicions were correct... he had to swim faster.

Gritting his teeth and shoving down a roar of anguish, he grasped a stalagmite and used it to push himself further into the cave, his body bleating in agony at the movement. Just a little farther. A little more. 

It went on like this for perhaps an hour. Pushing himself from one stalagmite or stalactite to the next, fingers digging into the rock formations to keep him anchored. His jaw hurt from the pressure of being clenched so hard to stifle any sound. Had he been truly human, truly mortal, the agony would've killed him. 

Light soon greeted him, subtle and soft from above. Shoving down the pain as best as he could, he swam upwards, reaching for the source of light. He breached the surface of the water with a cry, his lung greedily gulping down fresh air as he heaved himself onto the rocky ground, water splashing onto the floor around him as he groaned, limbs trembling.

He dared raise his head, moaning under his breath at how his muscles protested at the movement, finding himself inside a cave he knew far too well.

This had been his home once. 

He blinked in shock and surprise as he stood up on wobbly legs, his cane manifesting itself in his hands as he leaned on it, taking in the surroundings. He knew it was a foolish thing to do, but he called out the name of his mate, her name echoing a bit in the chambers despite the weakness in his voice. 

Neuvillette thought he was hallucinating as he collapsed once more, the sight of a woman like him appearing in his vision. She called his name, his true one, clutching at her own heart as she wobbled towards him, disbelief on her face. 

He blacked out.

-----------------------------

He awoke to a gentle feminine hand moving his hair out of his face, his body cradled amongst the piles and piles of blankets and pillows. He somewhat recalled that this had been his nest, his bed that he shared with his mate. It also had been where they had carefully hidden the egg that had hatched their child. 

Neuvillette heard his name come out of her mouth, and he looked towards her, bleary-eyed and exhausted. But... his chest stopped hurting, and deep down in his soul, the mating bond that had snapped had been renewed, the thread budding and soft. 

He smiled, reaching a hand up to cup her face, as if he wanted to confirm this wasn't some hallucination, or worse, a dream. His mate leaned into his touch, her own hand coming up to grasp his. She kissed his palm, nuzzling his hand as her eyes closed, as if she couldn't believe it either. 

He was home.

-----------------------------

Neuvillette glanced up from his paperwork, smiling at his mate as she slowly bounced the child in her arms to sleep, the child squirming and whining, her chubby face scrunched up. 

He stood up and walked towards his mate, kissing her cheek before taking the child into his own arms, murmuring little nothings to the little girl in his mother tongue. She opened her eyes, the same baby blue hues as their firstborn, staring into his own silver ones. 

What had been taken from him had been returned to him with a little extra. No longer did he and his mate have to wish upon the stars for a child, since hatchlings were rare, rare enough that it was a miracle to have one in the first place. His child, only a year and a half, would soon have a sibling. 

He grinned at the thought, wrapping an arm around his mate as he pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her lips. 

"Thank the stars..." he whispered. "I have you back in my arms, my mate."

She smiled at him, nuzzling his cheek. "And thank the stars for allowing us to have the family we always wanted," she said, a hand resting on her swollen stomach. It would not be an easy birth, he knew, but Neuvillette's smile remained as he held his family close, the ancient dragon in him smug and full of pride. After all... just a few hours earlier, when Furina had asked how far along she was... his mate had answered 20 weeks along. 

The responding hum set him off on a protective streak, and as soon as Furina had left, he immediately knelt in front of his mate where she sat on the couches in his office. He'd earned a confused look when he lay his head on her lap, glancing up at her. His only excuse for the suddenness of his behavior was: I didn't like how she responded to it. 

His mate had laughed, and when she had settled, faintly, he could hear it. He had blinked in surprise, straining his sensitive ears to see if it had been a fluke but...

The dragon inside of his mind grew even more prideful and smug as he recalled the memory, the news that accompanied his surprise. 

"I'm... afraid I'm only going to become more protective and territorial from here, my mate..." Neuvillette began, carefully laying down his now sleeping child on the cushions of the sofa. 

His mate quirked a brow. "Oh?"

He didn't dare look at his mate as he began the confession. "Earlier... I heard something. Something so valuable and precious."

"Did you hear the baby's heartbeat?" she asked, taking his hand in her own.

He shook his head. "Not just one, my mate. I heard a pair. A pair of heartbeats, beating in tune with each other."

Chapter Text

True to his word, the Chief Justice of Fontaine had indeed grown more territorial and protective of his mate after the discovery of the twins that grew in his mate's womb, especially as her pregnancy went farther along. 

It was a shock to the Fontainian people to see the stoic, aloof male displaying more emotion than he usually did; it became common to find him trailing behind his mate whenever she went out for a walk, regardless of how much work piled on his desk. Whilst he took pride in performing his duties as the Iudex, his mate came first. His beautifully pregnant mate was always first.

If someone looked at his mate wrong, a snarl would rumble in his chest, the sound deep and guttural. The action would usually earn him both a startled Fontainian and his mate leaning into his body. They both knew very well how the other worked, down to the last concealed scale. 

However, Neuvillette found it odd how the weather had become cloudy, thunder rumbling off in the distance on occasion as he walked through the streets with his mate by his side and his dozing toddler in his arms. He frowned up at the sky, his eyes narrowing. It wasn't supposed to rain yet. But the smell of the air, rich and ripening to embrace the rainfall...

"It looks like it will rain soon. We should get inside, I don't want you or our child to get sick," he said, now looking around for possible places of shelter. Whilst he did have full control over the Hydro element... it would look weird and suspicious to the people out on the street if they remained dry. And frankly... that was too much of a hassle to try and explain anything. Even if he was Fontaine's new ruler.

His frantic search ended when a door nearby creaked open, revealing Furina hissing at them both to come inside her apartment. The ex-Archon almost dragged the dragons inside as she reached out to grasp Neuvillette's arm, and not a moment too soon.

As soon as the door clicked into place, the skies opened and rain poured, heavy and cold. Oh, how Neuvillette longed to go out there and stand in the rain, to let the rain soak his judicial robes and hair... but with his mate and child in his arms... he couldn't risk anything. 

The toddler in his arms squirmed a bit, waking up from her nap with a yawn, earning the attention of Furina as she stood there awkwardly for a moment, realizing just who she'd tugged into her home in a moment of trouble. 

"Ah, my apologies, I suppose the suddenness of my invitation was jarring to you two," Furina laughed, putting on airs to conceal how anxious and frightened she truly was, given that not only did she grab the Iudex, the Chief Justice of Fontaine... but also the Hydro Dragon Sovereign. Two fully grown dragons were there, in her apartment, standing so close to each other that one would almost think they were one creature. 

Maybe... maybe that was true, given how they moved in sync without ever needing to look for the other. Furina recalled the pair of dancing mechanical wonders off to the side of the Opera House and made the silent comparison that Neuvillette and his mate were just the same. Just given flesh and blood. 

"Please, make yourselves comfortable here while we wait for the rain to let up," Furina drawled, gesturing to the sofas scattered about tastefully. "I'll go get... refreshments! Bulle fruit juice for the little one, and... I'm going to assume water for the both of you."

Neuvillette said not a word, his entire body tense as he watched Furina, suspicious of every word and action. Whilst his human mind tried to soothe the dragon that had reared back its head, his draconic nature saw Furina as nothing but a threat to his family. His mate interjected and said, "Yes, that will do wonderfully. You'll have to pardon my husband, he's been on edge lately because of the twins."

Furina nodded, forcing herself to not cower, even if every instinct screamed at her to bow down in utter submission before the pair and their energetic toddler. "Of course! Of course, I would be too. I'll go get the drinks and a few snacks. Perhaps some... macaroni as well?"

The toddler's attention got caught by the word macaroni as she cheered, "Macaroni! Macaroni! I want some!"

The ex-Archon clapped her hands together. "Wonderful! Wonderful! I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything," she said as she sauntered off towards the kitchen, ducking into the doorway perhaps a little too eagerly, if only to escape the cold gaze of the draconic male. 

As Furina set a pot of water on the stove to boil the macaroni... she paused and recalled the days inside the Opera House, watching trial after trial, every merciless verdict of guilty that rang from Neuvillette's lips now ringing in her ears. She recalled every stoic, stone-cold gaze whenever he looked at the guilty party to declare them as such, and shuddered. She'd never experienced such a look leveled at her, but the one he'd been doing... perhaps that was much worse. 

That was the gaze of someone who would gladly get his hands soaked with blood, of someone who had done it before, and would do it again if only to protect the woman by his side, the child in his arms, and the pair of children in his wife's womb. 

Letting out a nervous chuckle, she murmured under her breath, "Note to self: Don't mess with dragons... especially mated ones..."

A hand tugged on her coat and she let out a startled shriek before slapping her hands over her mouth, turning to the source of that tug to find Neuvillette's daughter staring up at her with a sheepish grin.

"Hello! I wanna help with the macaroni."

"Of course! Of course! You can help with the macaroni," Furina said, laughing nervously. She prayed that Neuvillette wouldn't come into the kitchen. "I need you to watch the water and let me know when it's boiling, okay?"

The girl nodded her head, beaming as she toddled off to grab a nearby stool, pushing it towards the stove top so she could watch properly. Furina had to admit... for the offspring of someone who could very easily destroy several nations at once... she was quite cute. 

The woman then turned to her ice box, reaching inside for the bottle of bulle juice she knew she had in there. Smiling when she found it, she opened the lid just enough so the child wouldn't struggle before handing it over to the girl.

"Thank you, Fu... Fur.... um...." she paused, struggling with Furina's name. Her face scrunched up as she sounded out each sound, her nose wrinkling when she found she couldn't say it quite right. Eventually, she gave up and said, "Thank you, Foonina."

Furina pat the girl's head at the adorable attempt, stifling a snicker at the butchered pronunciation, but the snicker soon died in her throat as she noted the two blue strands in her hair, ones that she had seen Neuvillette having. She always assumed they were part of his elegant hair, nothing more than hair pieces but... if his child had them too in the same spot... then they could only be horns. 

Why they flowed like water and swayed of their own accord on windy days, she couldn't answer. 

She swallowed, fighting against the nerves that threatened to consume her whole as she acknowledged the gratitude from Neuvillette's child, moving to swipe two goblets from the cabinets above. She would only have to fill them with water, drop them off with the dragons in her sitting room, and then she could return to the kitchen, where it was......... well, occupied by a baby dragon. 

Oh Archons, somebody save her.

-----------------------------

Neuvillette remained tense, even sitting down on the couch with his mate next to him. He fought against the growl that crawled up his throat, his body slowly being consumed by his ancient instincts. Even in the body of a human male, even with the sophistication akin to nobility, perhaps even royalty, he was still, first and foremost, a beast. 

A monster.

His mate nuzzled his cheek, snapping him out of his protective stupor as he turned his full attention to his mate instead. 

"It's alright, dear. She won't hurt us. You saw how she ran to the kitchen, poor girl is so nervous! Calmly, my love, calmly. We are safe here, and we can leave when the rain stops. Alright?" 

He slumped forward, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding before laying his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry, ever since I heard their heartbeats... knowing we have twins..." he sucked in a breath, his voice lowering, "I'm terrified something will hurt you. You're my mate, and I already lost you once. We already lost our firstborn, I can't lose any more of my family... I just can't..."

His mate cupped his face, running her thumbs over his cheekbones, kissing his forehead. "I'm right here, and I always will be. I'm also terrified of losing our children, but all will be well." 

She grasped his hand and laid it across her belly, knowing that maybe... if he could feel the twins, their presence, it would soothe the fearful draconic instincts of his. Though perhaps... his fear was also very human too. She watched as his face softened, his thumb drawing idle circles in the fabric of her maternity gown. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her stomach, returning to his mate's face as he pressed another kiss to her cheeks, her nose and her forehead. 

She couldn't help the smile that crossed her features at his affections, giggling a bit at his behavior. Her body leaned into his, her head coming to rest above his heart as she closed her eyes, soaking up the warmth of his body. He couldn't complain, not one bit. 

"I've brought you two some ice water," Furina said, stepping into the room. Carefully she set the goblets down on the table in front of the dragons, offering a demure smile. "The macaroni should be done soon once the water boils to cook the noodles. Any sauce preferences?"

"Brown butter, that's Selin's favorite," Neuvillette answered. "Thank you, Furina."

"It's no problem, not at all!" Furina piped up, smiling as wide as she could. Even after stepping down from her role as an Archon... she still felt nervous around the dragon. He always seemed to know everything, so the fear of being caught was always there. The fear of being caught as a fake, even now.

"Foonina! The water is boiling," came the call from Neuvillette's toddler, Selin, who peeked from the kitchen doorway with an excited, eager face. The child perked up and beamed when Furina stepped into the kitchen, eager to get the macaroni finished in time for supper. 

Neuvillette's mate smiled and chuckled. "Ah, our daughter is so cute, precious little girl. Reminds me of all those days our firstborn spent chasing after the fireflies well into the dusk."

"Yes... yes she is."

-----------------------------

Furina bid the family farewell when the dawn arrived, the rain having been relentless enough to force the family to stay the night. The ex-Archon had given up her bed to Neuvillette's mate for comfort, since she figured that carrying twins, draconic twins no less, was incredibly taxing. Somehow she'd become Selin's new favorite person, which she couldn't entirely complain about, the toddler was so cute, but... that would mean the responsibility to keep the child safe whenever Selin visited would be a heavy weight. 

She continued to smile and wave until the family vanished from sight, letting out a gigantic sigh of relief that it had gone smoothly. She was still alive, Selin faced no injuries, and most importantly, Neuvillette's mate was still bounding with energy. 

Turning towards the open blue sky, she clasped her hands together, and prayed to whatever deity would hear her prayers, and asked that whatever may happen, the birth of the twins would go well, and that Neuvillette's family would be blessed. 

-----------------------------

It had been a few weeks since the last rain storm, the noontime sunny and warm. Furina hummed happily over her cup of tea and cake, enjoying the sunshine from underneath the umbrella over her table. When she opened her eyes to enjoy the sun some more, she found rain greeting her instead. How could it have been sunny, with not a cloud in the sky and then rain out of the blue?

Furina glanced up at the skies, grumbling to herself about how sudden the rain seemed to become, but paused her grumblings when she found a panicked Neuvillette sprinting through the streets without an umbrella in sight, the male nothing but a silver and blue blur. 

She stood from her seat at the quaint restaurant, watching as the male vanished down the steps of the streets. Ah, no wonder it was raining if he was the cause. For on his face... those were panicked, fearful tears she'd seen. 

There probably wasn't much that she would be able to do, but... she could at least try to do something. 

Furina left a few Mora on the table as a tip before darting out into the rain herself, recalling the direction the medical industry had been planned out in. Neuvillette's destination was probably there.

-----------------------------

The door swung open, revealing a drenched Neuvillette to the medical staff and his mate, the male panting and gasping for breath, even as rainwater dripped from his hair and clothes, pooling underneath him. His eyes were wide and panicked, face pale and leeched of color as he looked for any sign of hurt or injury, his body tense and locked up.

"Honey, it's alright. I'm okay," his mate called quietly, her gaze moving towards the two lifeforms laying on her chest. The infants dozed, whining on occasion before settling down, listening to the comforting murmurings of their mother.

Neuvillette's body sagged as he moved closer, finding himself stunned into a shocked stupor as he gazed at the newborns. "They're... they're healthy... right?"

The medical staff in the room made their way out the door, avoiding the water puddle lest they slip and fall. It would do them no good to cause unnecessary problems and stress upon Neuvillette's mate and children. 

"As healthy as can be, my love," his mate answered, a soft smile curling her lips. "They're precious aren't they?"

"Very much so..." Neuvillette trailed off, tugging off a glove before clasping his mate's hand. His fingers brushed against hers, curling against her hand. The blue tips of his fingers were cold, his nails not human at all. Scales covered the back of his hand and crawled up to his wrist before vanishing into his human skin, but... his wife did not flinch at all, finding his touch to be what she needed. "I'm sorry I'm late... the Melusines were as panicked as I was when they told me you were about to give birth..."

"I accept your apology... and it is alright, you're here now, with me, with our children. I couldn't ask for anything else."

From outside the door, Furina smiled as the conversation continued, too low for her to hear. The tides had heard her prayers, and two more dragons now roamed the earth, forever loved and protected in the shelter of the Hydro Sovereign and his mate. 

"Congratulations, Monsieur Neuvillette and Madame Neuvillette..." Furina whispered as she turned, and walked away from the growing family. "May it remain well."

Chapter Text

The baby mer gurgled at him, giggling as she squirmed, the colorful scales of her tail gleaming in what little sunlight reached the continental shelf. Childe tickled the giggling child, though she couldn't see him at all. Despite his little girl being born blind, he loved her no less. 

He blew raspberries on her stomach, earning even louder squeals and giggles, the colorful little mermaid patting his face with her hands. 

"Hello little Ariel," he crooned, nuzzling her nose as he picked her up, spinning around with her a little bit in mockery of a human waltz. Ariel giggled, clinging to his fingers with a strong grip, her chubby baby hands barely able to hold onto his entire finger. He loved her dearly, loved her as much as he loved her two older brothers, even with being blind. It wasn't her fault, not at all, and it would make no sense for him to punish her for it. 

Sure she would need extra help and support unless she found a way to maneuver on her own but... he didn't mind, not one bit. Ariel was his baby girl, his little rainbow pearl in the sea. 

His mate leaned against the archway, chuckling at the sight in front of her as Childe spun around in the water, creating a flurry of bubbles, much to Ariel's delight at the stimulating feeling of water rushing past her body, occasionally getting hit by the air bubbles. 

As Childe slowed to pepper Ariel's face with kisses, the little girl's eyes closed at the onslaught of affection, her giggling running rampant. 

"Hello my little pearl of the ocean," he cooed, nuzzling her nose with his own.

Ariel responded with nonsensical babbles of her own, her tail curling up as Childe set her down. 

"Paaaaaa," Childe said, hoping Ariel would copy him.

"Paaaaaaaa," Ariel echoed, clinging to his fingers. 

"Paaaaa."

"Paaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

"Now who am I?" Childe asked, hoping Ariel would successfully declare her first word as 'papa.'

"Mama!" Ariel chirped, so proud of herself whilst Childe wilted in his spot, sighing sadly as his mate snickered at him from her spot, hand over her mouth to stifle the sound.

"My love, my mate, my wife," he cried, holding Ariel up above his head. "Our little pearl loves you more! I am distraught, my heart broken beyond repair!"

Ariel, sweet, little precious Ariel, laughs the whole time, not understanding a word that her father said, but she knew that even if she didn't understand them, she was safe, tucked into the arms of her beloved parents and older brothers, protected and loved. 

Her mother took Ariel into her arms, booping the baby mermaid's nose. She sneezed, a flurry of bubbles leaving her mouth. She was silent for a moment, registering the new touch before she recognized the touch of her mother, eagerly wiggling in joy upon realizing her mother was right there. 

"Mama! Mama! Mamaaaaaaa!"

Despite the slight betrayal of Ariel's favorite word being 'mama' and not 'papa,' Childe smiled as his mate showered Ariel with kisses. The time for Ariel to call for him would come later.

He recalled hearing from somewhere that rainbows were signs of a long forgotten promise, a promise of peace and mercy instead of anger and destruction. There were no rainbows in the ocean, not ones as true as the arches in the sky after rain... but... his daughter was close enough. Her birth was a miracle, a mercy that she still lived, and she'd been nothing but a symbol of peace amongst the rest of the merfolk. 

At the end of the rainbow, there's happiness, and how long were the days when Childe spent hours stuck in darkness, chasing the promise of rainbows that somehow remained out of reach, reaching for the little bluebird that sang just out of reach. 

At least... at least until his mate and family came into his life. He didn't need to chase rainbows any longer, reaching for a bluebird out of reach. He had his bluebird, and that bluebird gave him the most wonderful, precious rainbow of all. 

He smiled at the thought.

Chapter Text

If someone were to ask any of the Knights of Favonius who they thought was the best rider in Mondstadt, more often than not, the answer would always be either Diluc, or the Calvary Captain Kaeya. 

It was not an uncommon sight, once Grandmaster Varka came back from his expedition, to find the Captain out in the fields near Windrise training the new recruits on horses, his young son clinging to his cape and hiding against his legs. The little boy would watch the horses with wide eyes, awe on his face, but if any of the recruits dared to cast a glance at him... it was back to hiding behind his father. 

Kaeya didn't mind, not one bit. The shyness of his son Crowley was more preferable compared to Crowley's twin sister, who eagerly went out to try and interact with everyone, regardless of how dangerous it was. 

"Thea, don't distract the mares, you can feed them later," he called, not even glancing towards the child that tried to sneak a carrot to one of the idle mares.

Thea pouted and toddled back towards her father, carrot in her hands and held out like a sword. "Papa, when can I ride one?"

The Captain chuckled and pat her head, ruffling her hair. "When you're bigger. For now, you can practice on one of the smaller ones."

Crowley piped up, his voice low, "Can... can I ride one too?"

Kaeya crouched down and pulled his children close, hands on their shoulders as he looked them both in the eyes. "Here, I'll make you a deal. You two stay close me for the rest of the training... and I'll let you both ride with me on my personal stallion. Okay?"

He could've sworn their faces became like stars the way they had perked up, eagerness to see the famed near mystical stallion that their father rode personally. Stormhoof.

The new recruits murmured amongst themselves, having heard the agreement go down. Stormhoof was notorious for being near impossible to ride, much less tame. There was always an unchecked wildness to the black stallion, so much so that he had to be kept away from the other stallions and mares. The mere knowledge that Kaeya had claimed Stormhoof as his own personal battle horse... that left many of them shaking in their armor, even atop their own horses. 

Nobody could ever tame something that wild. 

-----------------------------

As evening fell, Kaeya clapped his hands together and called, "Alright, that's enough for today! Please go home to your families and tend to any bruising or sore areas, you will thank me later."

The new recruits glanced at each other, nervous because there still was no sign of the infamous stallion. However... they were mighty impressed by the stubbornness of Kaeya's children. They'd stuck to him like a group of slimes. 

"Erm... Captain Kaeya... the other recruits and I, we were wondering if we too could... see your horse in action," one of the recruits called, earning several nods and "hear hears." 

Kaeya raised a brow and looked over them once. "Are you confident that you can handle him?"

They all shook their heads. "We just want to see if that stallion can be tamed... we've heard the stories of the untamed beast."

With a chuckle, the Captain shook his head a bit before sighing, laying his hands on top of the heads of his twins. The two looked up at him with grins on their faces. 

"Come on papa! Summon him, summon him!" Thea cried, her eyes shining in eagerness. Her brother nodded along with her, just as eager but significantly quieter about it. 

Kaeya put his fingers to his mouth and whistled long and high, the notes echoing out into the grassy fields. They rang out for merely a moment before fading out into nothing.

It wasn't long before the ground rumbled and groaned, a large black blur speeding towards them. The stallion huffed and heaved great billows of air, powerful lungs and heart working in perfect tandem to push that war horse forward, the muscles flexing and rippling beneath the skin. It would be a lie to say that Stormhoof wasn't also one of the most coveted and prized horses in Mondstadt. For such a wild beast, the stallion was a born and bred monster of a horse. 

The stallion slowed with a puff of air, coming to a halt just beside Kaeya, calm and as quiet as the most tame mare. 

A few recruits stood stock still, fear spiking in their bodies as they took in the stallion. Many almost fainted when Kaeya's hand stroked the stallion's nose as he murmured his greetings. They almost outright fled when Thea offered a carrot to Stormhoof, fearing that her hand would be taken with the carrot but... the stallion was almost downright gentle, earning a giggle from the little girl when the carrot vanished. 

It took a lot of Kaeya's self-control to not laugh at the fear and anxious states of his recruits. Their nervousness was amusing. The stories of Stormhoof's unchecked wildness were true, but that was only if you weren't the correct rider. He had trained Stormhoof to only allow himself and his family to ride. If anyone else dared... they were bucked right off. 

As his daughter begged him to be picked up and helped onto the horse with her arms stretched up, her hands making a grabbing gesture, he smiled at her as he scooped Thea off of the ground, placing her carefully on the stallion bareback. 

Thea giggled and squirmed a little bit happily before settling, her small hands stroking Stormhoof's mane. He whinnied a little bit, not minding the touch at all. 

Kaeya glanced down towards Crowley. "You want up too?"

Crowley nodded, raising his arms above his head so Kaeya could pick him up easier. With a soft grunt, Kaeya picked up Crowley and set him behind his sister, the little boy's eyes going wide as he grinned, enjoying the height change. 

He murmured a command to Stormhoof who began to move, a slow, leisurely pace. The time to shoot off into the fields would come later, much later. Especially when Stormhoof didn't have the correct equipment so the rider didn't fly off.

The Captain turned his attention to the recruits who shook hard enough some had collapsed, stuck to the ground from fear. Some had faces so pale they looked like ghosts themselves. 

He chuckled and watched as his children cheered happily from their spot, Stormhoof tossing his head in response to their cheers. 

Storms were always tameable. One just had to have the patience and knowledge to do so. Wars were winnable, assuming one had the resources and knowledge, the drive and purpose. The war fought to win over the stallion of the east was a high-risk high-reward battle, and one well worth the cost, Kaeya mused to himself as he followed after the stallion and his children, the evening sun slipping beyond the ocean horizon to give way to a cool Mondstadt night. 

Chapter Text

No one quite understood magic as Lyney did. The skills and muscle control to hide and deceive, to hide in plain sight and lie through the teeth, how to mask his true self to the public eye; he was familiar, oh yes. So much so that sometimes he did not know the difference between his true persona... and the one he adopted whilst on the stage or the streets, performing tricks for the children who'd gawk at him. The mask grew even more difficult to pull away when Arlecchino stepped down from her position as 'Father of the Hearth' and passed it down to him, much to his dismay. 

He didn't want to be in such a position of power; where the strings were easier to pull, where tricks suddenly became as basic as they could go. He didn't have to do much else to keep the attention of the children away from the secrets hidden underneath the grounds of the House. Just a few fiery sparkles from his Vision, a wave of the hand and a dove or a flurry of cards, and the children's attention was diverted. Shock, awe, wonder, surprise... that was all he needed to keep someone's attention off of the strings he pulled from behind the scenes. Instead of magic being for fun, joy, and entertainment... it had twisted to become a lie. And it hurt. 

-----------------------------

The child at his feet stared up at Lyney as he read over a report next to the unrealistically large fireplace, a fire crackling in the pit as the orange ribbons danced upwards, licking at the bricks of the chimney. The child's attention turned to the flames, watching in awe as Lyney waved an idle hand, the flames making shapes of their own, creating a small play to entertain the child. A horse with a valiant rider, and a few other enemies to the rider to smack down. A fairytale, one that Lyney vaguely recalled from the dust of his past. A past he'd abandoned and tried not to recall, the memories of the difficulties that lay for an orphan such as himself and his twin sister Lynette a sore wound. 

It was one he doubted would heal. 

The little boy giggled and clapped his hands at the flames retelling the story, grinning in delight as the scene twisted and turned, the flames arcing and twisting, morphing into each creature, each character. No words were needed to be said. None at all. 

The words on the report blurred together, mixing and swirling until they became unintelligible. Lyney sighed and gave up, tucking the report away in his pocket for later. He looked towards the little boy, the child staring at him with an intensity only found in kids. 

He smiled and leaned forward in his seat, holding his arms out in a silent question. The boy got up and climbed onto his lap, grinning at him.

"Hello, Father!" he chirped, even though he looked nothing like Lyney. 

"Hello."

The boy returned to staring at the flames, his small hands grasping at Lyney's vest as he stared and stared, watching as a dragon flew amongst the writhing flames, gasping to himself. He did not see the weariness in the slight stress wrinkles on Lyney's face, the once carefree soul caged in a gilded prison. How he desperately wanted to leave the Fatui somedays, when the never ending cycle of caring for the children who'd all been left behind, whether by uncaring mothers, abusive homes, or both parents died in servitude, caught up to him and left him lying awake at night in his bed, staring up at the high ceilings. 

He loved magic, once upon a time. He wanted to do nothing but practice that magic, practice that spellbinding wonder that left many, even the most detail-oriented folk pause to consider the sleight of the hand, the sheer skill and focus to do it. But now...

Magic was a liar. A two-faced, stone-cold liar. It was the constant lies he told to the children of the Hearth that concealed the bleakness of the world beyond the orphanage walls, and he would do anything to ensure that the fantasy he spun and wove with careful hands did not break.

He would pay any and all prices for lying through his teeth, for weaving stories to keep the children in the nest, to keep them bound to the Hearth. 

If the price meant he perished... then so it shall be. 

A good Father must sacrifice all that he was, all that he is, all that he will be, if only for the sake of his children. To be a wonderful father, it meant he had to abandon himself, and look outward, beyond. It meant he had to play a role, yet another lie, another mask, the lines between reality and fantasy blurring at times. 

What was he but a masked fool, a masked Fatui? Nobody knew what it meant to be a Fatui, not even the Harbingers, but he felt, somewhere down in his bones... to be a Fatui was to be a fool. A masked fool, a masked puppet with strings held by the Harbingers. And even then, the Harbingers were fools too. 

Who were they but marionettes on strings, their bodies controlled by an ever so rigid hierarchy. Not that it mattered, all the strings lay in the palms of the Jester. Who could compare to the knowledge of a man who did not die?

Lyney looked out into the room, his thoughts going sour, but a smile remained on his face as he looked at the children his sister had gathered together, like a hen concealing her chicks in her wings. 

"Good evening, little ones. Would you all like to see a show before you all get ready for bed?"

The responding cheer broke something in him as he finally accepted that his role in this never-ending play... was to lie. Magic was, is, and will be, a liar. He was, is, and will be, a liar. What a foolish role to play for the rest of his life... but if it meant that these children grew up without knowing the darkness of the world outside... so be it.

Chapter Text

What was he but a child in the body of an adolescent youth?

What was he but a man with the mind of a child?

Children are so easy to string along in schemes, their trust flowing without abandon, pure and free of the cruelty of the world around them. They are easy to mold, to teach, easy to influence to what is needed. Of course... there are unintended consequences, for they see the world in a different light. 

What does freedom mean, if demanded of you by a god? What does freedom mean, if you are left alone to do what you so please, but without the proper tools to survive?

These are questions the puppet pondered day by day, dawn to dusk, dusk to dawn. Had he been abandoned in the pure definition of the word, or had he been set free instead?

If he had been set free, this was an odd way to let him go.

The puppet turned his eyes towards the horizon beyond the window, beyond the borders of Inazuma, the ocean writhing as the sun sank beyond the visible world. The sky turned dark, stars winking into existence one by one. They gleamed at him, shimmering with unspoken secrets and guidance should he ask the proper the question. But what was the proper question, when he did not know the meaning of seeking answers from beyond the world, know why people looked to the stars for answers and guidance. Why did humanity seek after answers in something so far away and not understood?

Perhaps he was like those stars; far away and not understood. 

A cough from the futon nearby caught his wandering thoughts, the child curled up in a fetal position underneath the thin, patchy blanket. He wasn't sure if it could be considered one but... it was all he had. All they had. The boy rolled over, facing the sunken pit in the floor where a fire crackled, small and controlled by the puppet. 

The boy's face was gaunt; every rib could be counted on those days that the puppet bathed the boy. Something in the puppet's chest ached as he frowned, already formatting a plan. He could go hunting for lavender melons, as he always did. And then perhaps ask around for some menial labor, enough to make a bit of Mora, enough to get a new blanket, perhaps some fabric for new robes... maybe more food. 

Winter was a harsh season; death filled the air as the land went to sleep, preserving what energy it still had for the springtime. Humans... did not possess such skills, he had learned from his time with the people in Tatarasuna. He had learned that winter was a time where things moved slow, surviving off of preserved meats and whatever remained of the harvest, praying it did not spoil before the rays of the spring sun melted the greedy hold death had over the land. 

He put the back of his hand against the boy's forehead, checking for a fever. He didn't feel too hot or too cold... but... temperatures could be deceiving. The boy had been complaining about an ache in his belly that food couldn't fill for a few days, a rattling cough and his fingers had been blue for several days, even with the treatments the puppet had administered to get blood back into the extremities. His frown deepened as he wondered, pondered. Could he find a doctor in the nearby towns? The chances were slim, and they did not have the Mora to pay for one. Scratch that, they had money for almost nothing. 

The skies beyond the window began to brighten, the clouds that hung heavy being set aflame. The brilliant orange and red underbellies of the clouds sang of a storm on the horizon.

"Red skies in the morning... sailors take warning. Red skies at night, sailors delight..." he murmured, the old rhyme coming to him out of the blue. The boy groaned once again, the puppet's attention snapping to him. He stiffened before standing up from his spot, dusting off stray lint. He tucked the boy further into the blanket, placing the doll he'd made under the boy's arm. His fingers brushed a few stray strands of wheat gold hair out of his face, his own scrunched up in slight worry. It was about as much emotion as he'd display this early. 

The puppet stood, the joints of his ivory and clay body silent as they moved the puppet to an upright position. Though the evidence of the doll-like joints had faded, he could still feel them, the lack of muscle and sinew guiding the extremities. Human but... not. He could move in ways humans could not, the lack of flesh beneath his skin a glaring reminder of his status. 

He grabbed the length of cloth around his waist, gifted to him by Niwa and tied back the sleeves of his haori, the haori concealing the yukata underneath. It had taken him some time to learn how to tie his sleeves back on his own... but he could now. The light brown cloth looked so at odds with the violets of the clothes he'd been given by....... his mother? Creator? He wasn't sure what to call her. 

Another glance at the child had him staring for a moment, a sense of dread settling in his gut. A confirmation. A confirmation for something he did not quite understand, a concept that he did not grasp, for it would never happen to him, no matter what he did. He might've had the required organs regarding a human male; lungs, stomach, intestines... and should he choose to eat and drink, his body was equipped to get rid of the waste after his body had taken what it deemed was needed. A living body that functioned without blood, without a beating heart. A living body that did not require anything, even with the proper organs to live. 

What a paradoxical existence for a man who had the knowledge of the world equivalent to a child's. Perhaps child was too old... maybe a toddler would be more accurate of an age range. So easy to mold and shape, to prod down paths of moral darkness. How does one function when their life had been so limited, so confined? How does one learn the ways of the living when one can be likened unto the dead that slumber underneath the drifting ground? 

"Where.... are you going?" came the rasp from the boy, his eyes dark. There was a lack of shine in them, a lack of luster, the joys of life. He was staring at a dead man. 

"I'm going to go find some lavender melons, so that way when I come back, I can try and make a good meal for you," the puppet soothed, smiling a little. 

The child nodded, closing his eyes once more, clasping the doll in his hands. He let out a breath as the puppet stepped beyond the threshold, what little life remaining in his eyes winking out.

"I'm... sorry..." for not keeping my promises...

I wanted to stay by your side, forever as I had promised, but I cannot go any farther, big brother. My body has failed me, a mere orphan left behind because of my weakness, my sickness. I am sorry, big brother, that I cannot smile again, that I was unable to bid you goodbye like I wanted to. But my body gave up too fast. 

I'm sorry, big brother. I'm so... so... sorry... I wish I could have said how much I loved you, my big brother, my father figure when I had none. Thank you for being here in these last moments.

I love you, big brother.

Chapter Text

Neuvillette watched as his mate and children splashed in the waters near the Opera Epiclese, the children giggling gleefully as they remained unawares of the reason their father joined them today. A trial had been put into continuance, left for a later day to be judged. The audience privy to the case had grown riled, and despite his best efforts to control the populace...

He sighed and slumped forward, resting his head on the backs of his hands, set upon the handle of his cane. Neuvillette lost the enigmatic bearings of the Iudex and simply became a weary man, tired after a long day. His eyes slid shut as he instead focused on the sounds of his children, their laughter soon becoming squeals and gasps of awe. 

"Papa! Look look! There's otters!" Selin called, excitement in her voice. 

The male lifted his head, glancing upwards towards his family where his mate waved him over, a smile on her face as the youngest of his children hid behind her.

The Iudex stood from his seat, leaning a little on his cane as he came to the end of the shoreline, the water licking at his shoes. The little waves begged him to come play, begged him to take those steps out into their embrace. 

He ignored the whispering calls as he waded out, his judicial robes quickly becoming soaked. The whisperings of the waters grew stronger as the Hydro Sovereign paused by his mate, glancing down at his youngest son. 

The little boy looked up at Neuvillette, unaware of the waves quietly begging him to go out further, to go into his domain. The dragon ignored the call of the ocean to instead tend to his son, giving the boy a gentle, warm smile as he put most of his weight on his cane. He turned towards the other two children, watching them for a moment to decide whether or not if he should go too. 

Selin giggled as a baby otter snuggled into her arms, letting out happy chitters. Her other little brother watched with wide eyes, carefully petting the baby otter. 

Normally the otters in the area were somewhat wary of humans, but Neuvillette? He was as good as family to them, and that extended to his own children.

"It's alright Mael, they're very friendly," Neuvillette told him, turning his attention away from the pod of otters crowding his young. He held out a hand towards Mael, quiet but encouraging. He would let his son choose whether or not he wanted to see the otters; he would not force him to do something he didn't want to do. His children after all, were more precious to him than anything else. If a single tear fell from their eyes... may the Archons have enough mercy to rescue the soul from the endless anger of a Leviathan. 

Mael chewed on his lip, his blue eyes full of both curiosity but also fear. His grip on his mother's dress intensified as his other hand took one of his father's fingers, tight and strong. The little boy turned his attention to where Selin and his twin brother Samuel were, a small pod of otters chirping and chittering as they showed the dragons their pink shells and their own pups. His lip wobbled, body trembling a little as Mael took a step forward and then paused, looking up at his parents for reassurance and guidance. 

Neuvillette smiled with muted pride, nodding his head in silent encouragement, his mate doing the same. Her hand came to rest on Mael's head, fingers carefully brushing the stray wisps of hair out of his face. 

Samuel turned towards his parents, a grin on his face, but wondering where his twin was. Spotting Mael, he then stood on his toes to tell Selin something, too soft for Neuvillette to catch before making his way over towards his parents and Mael. 

Samuel held out a hand to Mael, grinning. "It's okay Mael, you can hold onto my hand if you want. I'll keep you safe!"

Mael glanced towards his parents, seeking for guidance once more with those worried baby blue eyes. His mother nodded. "Go on. Your father and I will be right behind you," she crooned, crouching down to give Mael a tender kiss on the forehead. Her hands cupped his chubby-cheeked face, caressing his rosy cheeks with her thumb. "It will be alright my baby boy," she cooed to him, nuzzling his nose with a fondness only a mother could have. 

Neuvillette felt his heart swell with pride and joy. How tender and precious was his family to him, especially in this new life of his. They already were tender and precious to him in his first life, but now... after having lost it all and then getting it back... the value of his family increased more than he could comprehend. 

The little dragon considered for a moment before nodding, letting go of his mother's dress and Neuvillette's finger before taking Samuel's hand instead. Samuel guided his twin brother towards the pod, pausing occasionally to check and see if Mael was okay. When Mael nodded in confirmation that he was alright, Samuel would go a little farther, steadily getting closer to the pod of otters and Selin. 

As Neuvillette watched his sons make their way back to Selin, his hand grasped his mate's as she withdrew to her full height, a smile still on her face.

"You've blessed me in more ways than I can count, ma chérie," Neuvillette whispered, turning his head to nuzzle his mate's temple, letting out a soft purr when she leaned into his affections. 

She grinned and kissed his cheek. "I'm happy to keep blessing you, if you would like," she crooned lowly before letting go of his hand, wading out further into the waters of Fontaine to join her children. 

Neuvillette hung back, stunned and perhaps, just slightly lovesick. He watched his mate and children as they played with the otters, allowing himself to listen to the whispers of the waters again. They begged him to come play too.

With a huffed chuckle and a shake of his head, the Iudex allowed his cane to vanish as he waded out farther to join his family, plucking up Mael who had turned towards him with his arms raised; a silent request to be picked up. Hands carefully plucked Mael up, holding him close. Mael rested on his father's arm, the child hiding his face in the crook of Neuvillette's neck. Neuvillette smiled, eyes drifting towards the sunset that slowly sank beyond the mountains, turning the sky orange. 

There wasn't much the Iudex of Fontaine could ask for, no, not at all. He did not believe in fate, nor in worshipping the gods that had taken his family away in the first place. But, perhaps just this once, just once would he offer up a silent hallelujah, and pray that the tides carried that hallelujah somewhere safe. 

His children were as healthy as can be, horns like his own adorning their heads. The horns crowned them, telling the world who they were; Heirs of the Hydro Sovereign. 

While dragonborn no longer roamed freely across the planet, scorned into hiding or slain instead, perhaps the day would come when they could roam freely once more. And his little family, tender and loved, would open the floodgates, allowing dragons to come back. 

His thoughts scattered as his mate leaned into his side, her head laying on his shoulder as she quietly teased Mael, earning a few giggles. Neuvillette wrapped his free arm around her waist, ducking his head to kiss her once. Mael made a sound of dismayed disgust, causing his mother to smile in amusement. 

"Papa, no kissing mama in front of us!" Mael complained, pouting and sulking. He squirmed a little, pounding his little fists against Neuvillette's shoulder, the hits near pathetic. But, it was also cute. Pathetically cute. 

Selin and Samuel turned at Mael's complaint; Selin snickering and Samuel agreeing with his brother by wrinkling his nose and sticking out the tip of his tongue. Their mother laughed, swinging out an arm in invitation to join the fold. Both children accepted, their arms wrapping around their parents as they stood huddled together. 

A single solitary tear fell from the Hydro Sovereign's cheek as he closed his eyes. Perhaps...

Perhaps the human concept of joy finally clicked inside his mind, finally made sense to him. It clicked why parents, good, righteous parents, would go down to protect their young. He knew he already would've in the first place, that was in his draconic nature. But he knew the why, and just how deeply that why, that reason, ran. It ran in his very blood. 

The word came to him as he opened his eyes, gazing upwards at the first star of the night.

Love.

Such an odd, broad concept. But he understood it. 

The Iudex of Fontaine opened his mouth.

"I love you, my mate, my children. And I will protect you for all eternity and the time after that. I will protect you in the next life, and in the next."

The responding chorus of "I love you too," gave him the beautiful gift of comfort and joy. How simple a phrase, and yet, the world seemed infinitely more beautiful after the words had been said. 

He was first and foremost, above all of the things that the Hydro Sovereign was and is, something beyond a monster, beyond a beast, beyond a human man, beyond a ruler.

Neuvillette was a father. 

Chapter Text

The Geo Sovereign gazed down at the dozing bundle in his arms, his face full of muted pride and joy as he caressed a chubby cheek, earning a sleepy gurgle. He crooned low in his chest, adoring the child. How tender and delicate, not much more than a budding flower. The child wriggled a little, a hand coming free from the blanket that kept the infant warm, the Sovereign earning a hand wrapped around his finger, that little hand chubby and soft. 

His child clung to his finger, grip tight despite being ever so helplessly small. He couldn't help the wide smile that took over his face as he nuzzled the child's head. 

"How tender and small you are, my little hatchling," he cooed, his tail unfurling from around his leg as he walked towards the balcony sheltered beneath the pergolas wreathed with golden osmanthus. The scent was delicate yet intimate, laced with a sweetness akin to honey; a subtle yet brilliant symbol of the love the Geo Sovereign held for his young. 

He turned his golden gaze upwards beyond the edge of the pergolas, staring into the night sky. Idle curiosities came to him in the moonlight, the answers hidden somewhere amongst the stars that he could not read.

The child let out a sound, shifting once more before settling, snuggling into his body. Pride filled the dragon as a chorus of gasps rose up, his attention now stolen by his mate below in the gardens, the rest of his young surrounding her as they listened to the stories she wove. 

As he listened to what little he could hear, his mind drifted to the whisperings he'd heard amongst his people earlier that same day when they attended a festival.

Some of the common folk wondered if he had too many children. Others claimed he couldn't control himself and that he was a poor husband, that he took and never gave. His face scrunched up as he hissed at the falsehoods. 

Never did he raise his talons against his mate to strike, to inflict fear. Never did he raise his voice to subdue her, to beat her into submission, no, that was never the role of a mate, a wife. Woman was made for man to be equal to him, a helpmate. Woman was made to balance out the carnal flaws of man. It was a pity and a disgrace that man feared the natural balance of the world that they had to make the woman lesser, and he hated the mere notion, hated even entertaining the idea.

His wife blessed him with children, freely giving him that sacred, precious gift entrusted to females. He held such a blessing in his arms, the tender child trusting that he would do exactly what any good male does. He could never abuse such a tender gift. 

Morax felt his chest ache and tighten in agony as he mourned for the fallen state of mortals, staring down at the child in his arms. He fussed over the blanket that swaddled the baby, making sure the blanket remained warm and snug. 

"You are more precious to me than the golden ichor that runs through my veins, my mate, my children," he whispered into the night, his mate glancing upwards from the courtyard as if she'd heard him. His eyes found hers, tilting his head slightly as he smiled, gesturing with his free arm to the slumbering child in his arms. She beamed back at him, as soft as his before returning to weaving a story for the rest of his children, all huddled together as they listened with rapt attention. 

There would never be enough of his golden ichor thrumming through him to display how much he adored his family. He could spill every last drop, and it would not be enough. 

He looked down at his sleeping child, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to the child's forehead. The child squirmed a little at his touch, settling down with a soft sound.

The Geo Sovereign smiled, his finger still in the clutches of his child. How tender and delicate, how soft and sweet it was; the trust of a child. Such a thing did not deserve to be tainted with the carnal sins of the world, did not deserve to be destroyed and broken. His child would be protected and loved for all eternity. No, not just his child, his entire family. As a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, he would do the same and gather his family to the fold, where he would stand a vigilant guard, spear poised to strike.

If harm befell his family... he didn't know what he'd do.

If it came down to it, he would spill every last drop of his golden ichor to rescue and protect his family. Provide, protect, preside. 

That is the role of a father, and that is what he will do till he takes his dying breath, he silently vows. He vowed to do it when he wed his beloved, and he vowed to do it again and again, everytime a child of his came into the world, mewling for their mother. And he would not, could not, break it now.

"Not ever," he whispered into the night sky, slipping into the palace walls, his tail swaying behind him. "Never."

Chapter Text

Heizou glanced to his right, ensuring his teenage son kept close, and did the job properly. The boy crouched low to the ground, almost akin to a crab as he crept through the underbrush, laying undetected by the band of ronin as they chattered, passing lavender melons and other food with each other. 

The band had been terrorizing a small, nameless village on the coast, and only Heizou's son had been brave enough to take on the case of hunting the ronin down and turning them in.

Heizou was both proud and disappointed by the decision.

Ronin were difficult to deal with normally, but even more so if their opponent didn't bear a vision or a weapon. And his son had neither. Wits didn't quite count, not when it came to pure brute but honed battle instinct. Ronin were brutes, but they had honed their craft, and honed it well to where finding a blind spot in their movements was slim. 

Though watching as his son slinked closer, akin to a yokai hunting down their prey, Heizou understood why his wife had named their son 'Ankoku.' 

A darker name, one that suggested an impenetrable darkness, and one Heizou had initially protested, but when he had found himself baffled by the child's ability to remain unseen, impenetrable when it came to verbal sparring, Ankoku fit too well. And when it came to asking the darkness to keep a secret, there was none better to conceal the truth.

Ankoku paused just outside of the ring, the circle marked by a clearing where the brush ended. A bonfire in the midst burned, smoke soaring into the sky, the scent heavy in the air. It concealed the boy well, even has he dashed out of the brush and tucked himself into the pile of stolen loot, concealed by the wooden boxes. 

Heizou tensed from his spot up above in the trees, leaning forward as if to spring into action to rescue his son.

But when the ronin made no indication of even seeing Ankoku, Heizou let out a hissed sigh, fingers curling into the branch below him. He trusted his son, truly he did. But sometimes the fear of losing Ankoku overrode that trust and instinct to protect claimed him instead. 

The words of caution that Yae Miko had given him came to mind.

"You had a child?" Yae asked, her eyes wide with shock before it was replaced with a sort of... smug understanding. She chuckled darkly, giving the detective a look he couldn't decipher. "Beware when your child begins to leave the nest and falls into danger. You'll find that a buried instinct that only rises once a child falls into those arms will rear its head, and a horrible thing, well..." she trailed off, closing her eyes as she hummed, dipping her head as the atmosphere darkened. Thunder rumbled in the distance as the Shrine Priestess opened her eyes, the pupil glowing. "You'll find dipping your hands in blood becomes easier said than done. Be cautious, detective, lest the blood become thick."

Heizou understood now that the look at been one of caution, hidden beneath a sadistic amusement at the thought that Heizou would fall into such a trap of carnality. And perhaps he would today. 

Thunder rumbled in the distance, the sky beginning to darken as clouds roiled, lighting up for a mere fraction of a second, the great thundering boom shaking the earth below. 

The ronin grumbled as they glanced upwards, chatter amongst them ceasing as they began to prepare shelter to wait out the storm. 

Not that they could. 

Quicker than Heizou could track, ronin fell, one after the other as Ankoku dashed through the camp, striking when no one paid attention, striking when the balance was off, when backs were turned, and when bodies hit the ground, thunder disguised the sound. Heizou sat up and jumped from the tree, using his Vision to push him forward as the last ronin fell, Ankoku nothing but a dark, nimble figure in the middle of the camp.

The boy tugged off the mask disguising his face as he turned to face his father, not one emotion or even remorse laying in those hues. 

"I told you to capture them, not kill them Ankoku!" Heizou yelled, waving a hand at the carnage. 

"Did they not slaughter innocent children?" came the reply, monotone and distant.

"I— well yes, but that's not the point! Your mission was to capture them so they could be brought to the law and then the Shogun would judge them, not us!"

Ankoku let out a noncommittal hum, wiping his bloodied dagger on his clothes. "Tell me, father. Had they been let go, would they have changed? Or would they have continued to terrorize our people before they were at last executed. A killer will always continue to do so, no matter how much they plead innocent or that they changed." 

Heizou's thought eddied out of his mind as he gaped as the boy, realizing that perhaps, Ankoku had flown out of the nest a long time ago. "What are you saying, Ankoku—"

"I'm saying, father, that it takes a killer to get rid of other killers. An executioner, if you so will. And by the order of the Almighty Shogunate, by the order of the Raiden Shogun, my blade is her blade, and I her executioner. I am the darkness of the law, the justice compared to her mercy. And I will uphold the justice as she demands."

Heizou could not speak as he reached for Ankoku, freezing as he realized that they lay on two sides of the same coin. He worked in the light, while his son lurked in the underbelly. He hadn't wished for such a path, especially upon a boy without a Vision, without the protection of the Archons, and yet Ankoku had gone tumbling right into it. 

"Are you sure this is what you want, Ankoku?" Heizou asked, searching Ankoku's eyes, his eyes, finding the same green hues dark. A darker mirror to himself, that is what Ankoku was. Heizou's shadow stared right back. 

"I do as the Shogun commands."

Heizou opened his mouth to speak further, eyes widening as he realized the rain began to fly the wrong direction, it rained upwards, the droplets shooting for the clouds. He watched in confusion and shock as the trees began to bend towards them, leaves whipping through the air as it condensed, the rain swirling in front of Ankoku. Blue light flashed for a brief moment, stunning the two as the light faded, the rain falling back towards the earth in torrents. 

A Hydro vision whispered hidden secrets as it fell slowly towards the ground, towards the open palm that now reached for it. Ankoku blinked in surprise, mouth parting as the Vision settled into his hand, humming as if greeting its master. 

Heizou stared for a moment, wondering what to say. His mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish before he spoke at last, "If the Hydro throne acknowledged you, the very seat of Justice... then perhaps, I cannot argue this no further."

Ankoku stared at the gleaming blue, running his thumb across the surface, finding it cold. 

"The God of Justice has a sense of humor, it seems," he said, looking upwards towards a weeping sky. "What a cruel sense of humor."

Chapter Text

Koko stared up at her father and the little origami figure on the table before him, tilting her head as she looked to him for answers.

"Papa? What is that?"

"It's a little paper figurine. Where I come from, it's called origami."

Koko turned her attention to the little paper dragon, eyes wide in wonder and awe. She bounced in place, giggling over just how small and cute the dragon was. "Does he have a name?" she chirped, gazing upwards at the puppet, finding him smiling fondly. It wasn't a usual face to see on him, so Koko knew this dragon must have meant something important to him.

"His name is Durin."

Koko echoed the name, pondering on it as she turned back to the dragon, staring at it before nodding. "That's a good name papa!" 

To her shock and surprise, the dragon moved. She let out a spooked squeak, stepping back. "Papa it moved! Durin moved!" It had been a minor movement, merely a wing adjustment, but Koko caught it all the same. 

"It's alright Koko, I met this little guy while I was gone. He wanted to come see Sumeru," he soothed, placing a hand on her head, letting his fingers run through her hair as a gesture of stability and comfort. "He can talk too..." he trailed off before shooting the paper figure a slight glare. "Though I told him to try not to scare any bystanders."

"Waaaaaa! I'm sorry, my wing was starting to cramp—" the little dragon explained, head drooping a little now that his cover was blown. "Is this your daughter? The one you told me about?" 

Koko stared in wonder and surprise, blinking a few times before rubbing her eyes and staring again. Nope, she wasn't dreaming. She couldn't be. Right?

"Am I dreaming?"

"No, no you are not Koko."

Koko went quiet as her father explained to Durin that yes, Koko was his child. Not biological, but adopted. Not that Koko cared about that part. Her father was her father, that was all that mattered. It didn't matter if his body was cold or warm, if a heart beat under his chest or not, he took care of her, and kept her safe and sound. And he appreciated every little gift she gave him, even if it was something like a fallen leaf she found pretty. 

Durin chattered, asking question after question while Koko tried to wrap her mind around that, yes, this paper figurine was talking. And said paper figurine was currently flying. 

At last, she finally piped up, "Can I go play with Durin outside?"

"Ooooooh! Can I? Please? Please please please?" Durin begged, nodding his head. 

It was silent as Durin and Koko gave the puppet their best puppy eyes. A sigh left his lips as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Go ahead. Just don't let anyone see Durin."

Though the puppet appeared annoyed, there was a fond smile on his face as he watched Koko and Durin fly out the door.

Chapter Text

Those who knew the notorious, ever-so-righteous Il Capitano would be able to tell that when it came to upholding the morals he grew up with, the morals that had been drilled into him during his time serving in the military, they knew that to consider him a Saint of some sort wouldn't be entirely inaccurate. 

He upheld his values with a zealous fervor that would leave even the most dedicated of nuns in the Church of Barbatos painted as sinners.

Capitano stared at the tiny, bundled up figure that bounded across the snowy plains, not much bigger than the penguins the child currently blended in with. Yet, the child stood out like a sore thumb against the blinding white of the snow, the child's skin sun-kissed from years of growing up in Sumeru. He hadn't initially meant to stay in Sumeru for a few years, but he had a few missions that led him to Natlan and Sumeru, back and forth, back and forth. He hadn't meant to get distracted either. 

But... there was something endearing to him to watch his son play, eyes so full of wonder and awe, so curious about the world around the little boy. 

Capitano called the boy's name, those same dark blue hues turning towards him as he began running over, the large coat concealing most of the boy. The child skidded to a stop, hands reaching out to grasp the outstretched claw, grinning up at him. 

"Yes papa?" came the innocent little chirp, spoken in a language Capitano had nearly forgotten. It broke what little remained of Capitano's heart to hear the amount of trust in the tiny voice. The Captain hesitated, damn him he hesitated.

Would what he had to do be... too cruel? But he had to, there was only so much time he could use before Dottore discovered the child and would, undoubtedly, want to experiment on him. Capitano could not let that happen, but... what he had to do was so cruel, so against what he believed in. Cloth rustled and he glanced down in time to see his son vanish underneath his own coat. He lifted up an arm to get a better look, unable to help the small smile as he watched the child cling to his under coat, hiding his face in the material as small hands curled into the edges. 

Capitano let his arm drop, resting his hand on the child's head instead. He brushed his fingers through the boy's curls, letting the soft strands offer a source of comfort as he continued to sort out the dilemma in front of him.

While he could always put the child under Arlecchino's care, the idea of the Knave sending his son out wherever, where he wouldn't be able to observe and make sure he stayed safe, that was almost as bad as letting Dottore come even close. Even being in the same building was too close, there was no telling what Dottore's other copies or subordinates would do for an extra coin. 

Capitano filtered through all of his options, logically sorting them out to determine the best place for his son to hide.

Natlan... no, he wasn't from Natlan by birth, and the Wayob would not be able to protect him. Too dangerous. Fontaine wasn't a bad option, but... again, no, House of the Hearth, too close to Arlecchino for comfort. Sumeru would not be a horrible option, but the idea that he could potentially get lost in the desert or join a merciless band of rogue Eremites... no, he could not stand the idea of having a criminal for a son. He was a war general for goodness sake! To have a child that didn't stand on the side of righteousness felt blasphemous. Inazuma was too far, not to mention even getting inside the nation would be another piece of work with the eternally raging storm that kept the inhabitants trapped and outsiders locked out. Liyue was a possibility, but... too many monsters, too many dangerous areas. At last, he came to Mondstadt, and he considered, pondered. Dragonspine was a worry, but... there was plenty of space to safely explore and play. And if his knowledge of the routes the patrols that the Knights took was still accurate, dangers would be slim to none. 

Mondstadt it was.

His hand stilled as he came to the conclusion, glancing downwards as he raised his arm again, finding his son staring up at him, his eyes still so wide. Capitano's heart broke further at the thought of having to practically abandon his child, at having to pray that someone, that anyone, would take him in and protect him. 

"Get your belongings, son. We leave at first light."

The little boy nodded, not questioning where they were going and why. Capitano's chest throbbed and ached as he stifled the swelling grief that threatened to spill from his eyes. He was incredibly grateful for the helmet that concealed his appearance, but his son seemed to have an uncanny ability to always make direct eye contact with him. His son would know if he began to weep. 

The Harbinger resumed running his fingers through his son's hair, quiet as he stared out at the snowy wasteland of Snezhnaya.

-----------------------------

The sun filtered through the canopies, casting a delicate shade of green on the ground below. Wild birds sang from their hiding places in the trees, accompanied by the sound of someone making a fighting effort deep within the forests of Sumeru.

The Captain watched as the boy repeated the same drills again, wooden sword clacking against the shoddy wooden dummy in front of him. It was a decision he'd come to before they left. He would at least give his son a fighting chance if things went south. 

It was a lost sword form that the boy practiced, one used at ceremonies and sparring, one that was used as the ace up the sleeve, a final hand. It was one Capitano had perfected, one that Capitano had been known across the kingdom for. So much so that he'd garnered the attention of the Twilight Sword.

But their differences in status was stark. The Twilight Sword was nobility. But Capitano? Only the second born of a lower noble family, but low enough to be considered a commoner. 

A meager battle cry shook Capitano out of his stupor as the wooden dummy fell, the little boy excited as he jumped up and down in victory. "Look Dad! Look! I beat it!"

"You did! I'm proud of you, good work my boy!" he called, unable to help the grin that spread on his face. He stood from his spot as the child jumped into Capitano's outstretched arms, giggling as the male caught him and spun around once. 

Setting the child back down, Capitano crouched as he grasped his son's shoulders. The child beamed up at him, bouncing on his feet. "Did I do good?" the child asked.

Capitano nodded and smiled, ruffling the boy's hair. "You did well, I'm proud of you my son. Remember to practice every day, okay?"

The child nodded eagerly, overjoyed to receive praise from his father. He turned and ran for the fallen dummy, pushing it back into place as best he could. Once it settled, the boy picked up his sword again and went through the drills, determined to fine-tune the ceremonial swordplay. The child's face was so determined, so eager to make his father proud, so willing to follow him to the very depths of hell and back. 

Capitano knew this. Knew this all too well. The amount of trust that his son held for him was... almost terrifying. Capitano hesitated again as he considered... would this... this idea, all to protect the only family he had left, would his child still trust him for this? Or would it be viewed exactly as Capitano viewed it? He did not know.

He praised his son when the dummy fell again, much quicker this time, tucking away the pieces of a broken heart.

-----------------------------

The wind howled and caused the trees to bend and sway, the wood groaning as the forests also withstood rains that came down fat and heavy. Capitano's helmet dripped rainwater, his cloak soaked through, but the child hidden underneath the cloak remained dry. That was all he could ask for. He kept his hand on top of the child's head as he moved from tree to tree, watching the surroundings as he made his way towards the final destination, the meager lights of Dawn Winery a beacon in the distance. 

This was likely as close as he could get to Mondstadt, not without the city rising up in a panic over a Fatui Harbinger appearing. He ignored the fact that it would be an intense panic given his position as the First Harbinger, that was merely a title to him. He stopped at the edge of the forest, dread settling in his gut as he realized... this was it. This would be likely the last time he ever saw his son again.

He pursed his lips and clenched his jaw as he looked downwards at the child who hid his face against his leg, stifling his tears. Though, the rain that managed to hit him in the face cried for him. He inhaled a shaking breath as he reached up and removed the helmet, his son turning to stare up at him with eyes that seemed to have caught on. 

Capitano crouched down as he set the helmet aside in the mud, looking at the little boy who now looked at him, the child's face grim.

"You're... leaving me?" the boy asked.

Capitano truly lost it then, openly weeping as he cupped his son's face. "I'm so sorry... but it's the only thing I could think of to protect you. This nation is the safest nation I could think of, and far away from the clutches of someone like the Doctor. I don't think I could bear to see you harmed."

The boy grasped Capitano's wrists then, leaning into his father's touch. "What must I do?" he asked, still speaking in that ancient tongue. 

Capitano told him then and there, all that he had to do, if he could. Grow up, stay safe, and live for himself.

The boy nodded, beginning to cry as well as it fully dawned on him. He rushed forward to hug his father tight, hiding his head in the crook of Capitano's neck. The Harbinger allowed it, wrapping his arms around the little boy tightly. He too did not want to let go, not at all. He let the boy cry as long as he needed, saying nothing at all. He wasn't sure if what he did have to say would cause the boy to hate him and cry more, or comfort him. So he chose to remain silent and simply be there, whispering little nothings. 

When the boy's tears were spent at last and he leaned back, his own tiny hands grasping Capitano's face (it pained him to see how starkly different they were) those blue eyes full of that childish trust once more.

Capitano's heart broke as he reached for the earring in his ear, removing it with shaking hands. He nodded once at the boy, wordlessly confirming that yes, he wanted him to have this. Quietly the boy bowed his head a little, allowing the Harbinger to put the earring on him, the gold encased sapphire a reminder of where he'd come from. 

As the boy looked up at him again, his face so terribly sad, the Captain spoke the final line that would send his bitter, broken heart to the very deepest, darkest depths of hell. 

"This is our last chance. You are our only hope. Forgive me, Kaeya."

Chapter Text

His lithe form gleamed in the dim lighting of the underwater cavern, lit by a few plants hearty enough to grow from the rock walls that were slick with water. The sound of droplets dripping from the cavern ceiling echoed, a mere backup singer compared to the breathing of the slumbering dragon, the Leviathan huffing whenever he shifted and adjusted, his form curled around a clutch of opal-colored eggs. It was his turn to guard them whilst his mate hunted, even though it was unlikely that his cave would ever be found. His abode lay far beneath the ocean surface, hidden inside even more hidden places.

He let out a lethargic sigh as he lay his head near the clutch, counting them again just in case. He purred, the noise soft, as he admired the eggs, satisfied with the knowledge that yes, all of them were still there, and all of them sheltered his children. Soon, he knew. Soon they would hatch and he would have heirs, as tender and precious as the light of the eternal full moon.

The Leviathan closed his eyes once more, listening to the sounds around him, listening to their secrets even though he could not decipher them. He strained his ears to focus on the eggs, pride filling him as he heard the tiny heartbeats, all healthy and alive. He hoped his mate returned soon so he could share this with her, share the soft pleasure of knowing that their children were preparing for the world. 

Water rippled and splashed as the surface was breached, his head snapping towards the sound as he tensed, relaxing once he realized that it was just his mate. He let out a croon to her, inviting her to come. She seemed to smile at him as she lay near him, nuzzling her snout against his. She purred as she nuzzled into his body, settling her head on his back, letting her tail twine with his.

She seemed to listen to the clutch too, letting out a pleased sigh as she leaned into him a little more. He purred in delight as he began to groom her, shifting scales back into place, removing old, dead scales... he found the motions soothing and comforting as he waited for his young to hatch. The Leviathan was impatient, eager, so ready to teach his little ones how to swim and hunt, eager to see them chasing after schools of fish and play with each other.

Soon. It would be soon. Of this he was sure.

-----------------------------

The draconic pair slumbered, the both of them coiled around the clutch of eggs to keep them safe. There wasn't any present danger, no, none at all, but it didn't stop them from protecting the unborn hatchlings. Instinct ran strong, and instinct dictated that they must protect their young at all costs.

A scratch sounded, tiny but loud enough to coax the dragons into awakening, loud enough to garner the attention of the dragons as they opened their eyes, seeking out the source of the sound. 

The scratching came back, longer and more repetitive. Their attention drew to the eggs, watching with bated breath as a single, solitary crack resounded, the faint cries of an infant dragon slipping past the small crack in the shell. The Leviathan tensed as he began to weep, watching as the eggshell fell apart little by little, giving way to a mewling baby dragon. His mate nudged the child with her snout, smiling all the while. It wasn't long after that another egg fell apart, another hatchling crying out for their mother. One by one the eggs cracked until all of them revealed the tiny dragons, all of them clinging to their mother in some form.

Some mewled, some let out weak roars (more akin to broken squeaks if anything), and one simply held onto their mother's limbs, dozing off. 

It was a miracle, the Leviathan knew this. A clutch of five and not a single one lost. Pride filled him as he gazed at the hatchlings stumbling about, one of them pausing to look up at him. The child let out a squeaked roar at him, trying to appear scary and fierce. He leaned down just enough to allow the child to pounce on his snout, the child still trying to be big and scary.

In due time, little one. In due time.

Chapter Text

The fear of following down the path his father took when it came to parenting always sat in the back of his mind. So he took great care to keep his tone soft, voice quiet, hands at his sides at all times unless he was carefully holding his wife or child, and even when he volunteered to cook, he never made too much noise. 

He recalled the way his entire world just stopped spinning when he had originally heard the news, how much joy had filled him, but also the emergence of a deep, terrible, long-buried fear. It became more obvious and difficult to ignore when he heard his child mewling for their mother, barely born. He saw how delicate and tiny the infant was, how fragile the child's body was, especially when it came to things far outside his control. Illness, the threat of war, as distant as the Abyss had become in recent years. There was so much, so so much, that he was afraid. There were not a lot of things that scared him, but being a poor parent? 

He'd rather die.

The sound of his name broke him out of his stupor as his wife reached for him, the baby dozing in her other arm. She smiled at him and pulled him close when he took her hand, offering the child to him.

"Would you like to hold her?"

He froze again, suddenly grateful that he had put Ajaw into timeout several hours before. Kinich buried the fear he had deep down as he took the little girl into his arms, unable to help the awe that came onto his face. Usually, he had near-perfect control over his emotions and the way he displayed them, but this careful control fell apart entirely when the child opened her eyes, the hues shiny with innocence. He caressed a chubby pink cheek with a finger, wondering over the miracle in his arms, quietly cooing. She leaned into his touch, eyes closing once more as she settled, letting out the softest of sounds. 

His heart was full and his chest ached as he knew he already loved this tiny little creature, this tiny little girl, his tiny little girl. She was just so small. Small and chubby and pink in her cheeks, all smiles and giggles as she grew. 

Kinich found he adored her little toothless grins, they were so contagious and so pure. That child displayed the purest, most raw forms of emotions, displaying every last piece of them. 

Today, he watched that same little girl struggling over homework, her letters not quite right. Some were mirrored, others upside down, or maybe just another letter entirely due to a wrongly placed mark. 

"Papaaaaaaa," she whined, squirming in her seat as she clutched her pencil in her fist. "Writing is hard."

He paused by her seat, leaning over to look over her paper, reading it, humming to himself as he went.

"Ha! Such a pathetic little human unable to write! The great—"

Kinich's gloved hand smacked Ajaw into the floor before the annoying dragon could continue. "Don't take Ajaw's words to heart, lachiwa. You'll get the hang of it soon." He ruffled her hair as she giggled, beaming up at him as she returned to her homework with renewed vigor. Her tongue slipped out between her lips as she wrote her sentences down, feet kicking from where they dangled. 

Kinich smiled and began heading towards the door, slinging a pack onto his back as Ajaw came to float by his head, the lizard fuming and waving his claws around. 

"Why you little— interrupting me before I could properly scare the pipsqueak into submission! You need to make them scared so they always obey!"

"Only a tyrant would think that way, Ajaw. My daughter is not something to be tyrannical over, especially not when she's this little." With one hand, he grasped Ajaw's head to silence the dragon before he could reply, earning muffled protests and pixelated claws beating at his hand. He grasped the door handle with his free hand, turning to look over his shoulder, ignoring Ajaw. "I'm going out! Your mother will be home soon to fix up dinner, tell her I'm taking up a job."

"Okay papa! Love you!"

He paused as he turned the handle, blinking a little before smiling to himself. "I love you too, lachiwa."

Kinich was not his father, that was what he told himself as he stepped beyond the threshold, ignoring Ajaw's flurry of insults and threats. He was not his father. That child loved and adored him instead of fearing him. That was more than enough of a difference.

Chapter Text

Ororon stared at the squirming child in the bassinet, watching as she tried to grab at his fingers as he played with her. He smiled at every eager kick she made with her legs, her eyes tracking his hand as he drew invisible circles in the air, just close enough for her to try and grab his finger.

She looked so happy with a wide grin on her face, her little bat ears, much like his own, twitching every now and then as she squealed softly whenever he reached down far enough to tickle her a little. How could such a tiny thing be so cute?

He didn't think he'd ever be a father but here he was, mid-twenties, and a daughter of his own. 

She made a sound of triumph as she grabbed his finger in his distraction, holding on with all her little might. She squirmed and cooed happily, kicking her legs and flapping her free arm as she beamed up at Ororon, carefree and so unaware of the horrors Natlan had been slowly recovering from.

He couldn't help his own smile as he leaned down to pick her up, nuzzling her head. The little girl pat his face, fingers curling into his cheeks as she gurgled, ears twitching as she listened to his whispers.

"You're so cute... like a perfectly round cabbage. Or a perfectly plump aphid."

She had no idea what those were, but those must've been good? Right? She babbled at him, earning a fond grin from Ororon as he listened, nodding along with her nonsense. How could someone so small just be... so... cute. 

-----------------------------

Ororon woke up from his nap, dangling from a tree branch upside down to the moon crawling across the sky, the moonbeams hitting him on his face. He blinked and looked around, his surroundings blurry as he blinked faster to clear it up. He was so drowsy... he hadn't meant to nap for so long, but the heights and the wind were calling him, and it was just so comfortable...

He yawned as he pulled himself up, sitting on the branch as he rubbed his eyes, yawning again. His ears flattened against his head with every yawn, twitching back into place when he stared towards the stadium, humming to himself in consideration.

What an odd dream he had. Surely it wasn't premonition? Unless... unless it was. Maybe it was the echoes of a separate universe, or a possibility of this one. He sat there and pondered, turning the idea every which way in his mind as he considered the chances, the possibility...

However unlikely it could've been, however unlikely he considered it to be... that little girl really was so cute... like a plump aphid.

Ororon yawned again as he stood up on the branch and jumped from it, his cape flaring out as he glided down. Maybe he'd talk to Granny Itztli in the morning. Assuming she hadn't drunk herself to oblivion. Knowing Citlali... she probably had.

He sighed as he considered the thought, landing mere moments later on the grass. Guess he better get going if he was to make it to the Tribe relatively early and hopefully catch her before she fell asleep due to a drunken stupor. 

 Not that he was ever fate's favored. The opposite in fact. Well... better late than never.