#🎫 // kofun voss

[fabricated-misslieness]

pairing: Kofun Voss x male reader

req: no | wc: 2.55k | fix-it fic, domestic fluff, parenthood

summary: The escapades of Asav Voss, the newest addition to the Valier tribe and the Voss family.

warnings: none that I can think of.

a/n: is this the first of its kind? (kofun fic) probably not. would it be the first on AO3, if I posted on AO3? yes, last time I checked.

spoiler warning!

Paris and Toad live!!! because I said so!! and I can!

When the child was finally born, Kofun didn't know what to think.

Did he even want a child? The answer was a clear 'no'. He was hardly eighteen! However, as he stared down at the newborn bundled up in soft furs and in his arms, he knew his duty was set out ahead of him.

This was his kid, his very own, born of his mistakes. It wasn't his fault. He shouldn't live a life without his real father just because of his birth's conditions.

He's crying. It's so loud.

"Paris." He tugs at the woman's sleeve. "Help," An awkward pause follows as he fully registers his duty. To care for the child, his son. "me."

"What?" She answers quickly. "What is it?"

"Why is he crying?" Kofun asks. He's so very helpless. He doesn't know the first thing about taking care of a kid. "How do I make him stop?"

Paris laughs. She laughs. Kofun's eyebrows furrow and the desperation in his face shows more and more by the second, not that she can see it. So he has to wake her from her laughter verbally. "Paris?"

"All babies cry when they are born." She explains, laughter sprouting at the very edges of her voice. "The crying expands their lungs."

"Oh." Kofun bites his lip, staring back down at his son. He'd never read such a thing in a book before, and he's read many books; but Jerlamarel didn't leave a book on human offspring and parenting behind when he abandoned him and Haniwa. His confusion was valid.

He falls in a trance as he stares. Thoughts devour his head, emotions as well. He knows Paris can sense them. Regret, fear, dread. He doesn't even notice she speaks again until she raises her voice.

"What will you name him?"

He doesn't know. He hadn't thought about it.

His father, Jerlamarel, had named Kofun after something ancient, something more ancient than even the old world: Kofun tombs of the Kofun period of Japan, and then he had named Haniwa after the clay sculptures around the tombs.

He thinks about what his real father, Baba, would've named him. It would've been something Alkenny. He thinks about his tribe's former members, the ones that had died protecting him: Arca, Matal, Ilun, Sinjay. What follows all those names, names he will never forget, is a new one. It follows like God bone chain; set out in a line, uniform, and permanently joined together.

"Asav." He says. "His—Your name will be Asav."

When a child was born to the Alkenny, they were raised not only by the parents, but also by the entire community. If Jerlamarel had left books about human offspring, they would've stated that this kind of communal raising had been proved effective. But still, the old world children were raised by only two parents, and so were the Payan children.

Kofun didn't want this for his son. Regardless, for the boy's first two years, Asav was raised by the Voss family. His parents and Paris had been great help, and Haniwa a good aunt.

This was a group of people, but Kofun didn't consider it a community. The family was tight-knit. Asav would only come to know a monotonous experience; a harmonious monotony indeed, but a monotony nevertheless.

So, after much planning, Kofun proposed an idea. He would raise the child with the Valier tribe.

The idea was immediately denied.

Baba said he wasn't sure if Kofun would be safe, but the Valier aided them in the war against Trivantes and had nurtured Bow Lion back to health. If there was anything Kofun was sure of, it was that Baba trusted the Valier.

Maghra believed she had to have a part in Asav's upbringing. Without her, Asav wouldn't have a maternal figure. But how much of a mother could Maghra be? She was the queen of Paya, and the people depended on her. Her duty laid with them, not raising the child product of the previous queen's manipulation.

Haniwa understood her brother's decision. But she didn't want to be separated from him. The twins' separation always meant something bad. For example, the witch-burning festival and Trivantes, both of which had led to one of the twins' kidnappings. Kofun insisted that the conditions of this separation were different, which forced Haniwa to see the truth.

Paris assured them all that Kofun would be fine. All her dreams of the various futures promised good results for the communal upbringing. Besides, for the past two years, she had taught Kofun everything she knew about raising children.

All the same, nobody wanted to see Kofun go.

In a last cry of desperation, Maghra stated that she didn't think Kofun was ready to raise a child on his own. He wouldn't be alone, though.

He had you.

The Valier community welcomed Kofun with open arms. They respected Baba Voss, and he was Baba's son. They loved Bow Lion, and she was of the same tribe as Kofun. Soon, they would come to love and respect Asav and his father.

But who was to be Asav's second parent? A community could only teach so much, and so could a single father. The natural scope of the role fell upon Kofun's partner.

For two years, Asav had only seen you a handful of times. For two years, Asav was handed from one person to another. From Kofun, to Paris (and Toad), to Haniwa, to Baba, to Maghra; and sometimes he was handed off to you.

For the next years of his life, Asav was mostly handed to and handled by two. Kofun and his lover.

Naturally, Asav grew an attachment to the two of you.

To Kofun, his name was Kofun and your name was (y/n). To Asav, Kofun's name was dad and your name was papa.

Asav was born much like any other child, albeit smaller. He had ten fingers and ten toes, all the correct size; two arms and two legs, both proportional; a chest and a belly, his button was an outie. And, alongside all of that, he had two functioning eyes.

Ever since he was little, Asav knew he did not share this ability with the majority of his peers. He knew that there were three of them that could see back in Pennsa: his dad, his aunt, and himself. But ever since they moved to Valier, it was just the two of them: father and son. Sometimes he forgot it was just two.

"The God flame has a sister that comes out to play at night." Asav mentions one night in your sleepy embrace.

"Does she?" You question, nuzzling your nose into his hair.

Asav laughs, your movement having tickled him. You had learned of it early on and had used it to tease him since. "Yeah!" He exclaims.

"You know, the God flame also goes by another name, Asav." Kofun says, pulling him closer to his chest.

"Really?" Being the ever curious child, Asav asks, "What is it?"

"The sun." His father replies. Before he can follow up with the sun's sister's name, Asav interrupts.

"What? No, that's my name. I'm your son."

You laugh, "Those words simply sound the same, Asav. Like gate and gait, remember?"

"Oh!" He gasps out, "Yeah! Wait… what did gait mean?"

You didn't know which one he meant, so you reply with an answer to either possibility. "We keep a fence around the crops so that the animals won't trample them, the entrance to that is the gate. Gait is the way someone walks. For example, I can tell who's coming by their gait, especially your father's."

"Hmm." Asav hums as he thinks. "That's silly of you! Why don't you just see who they are? Dad has brown, long hair and marks on his cheeks. Aunt Bow has brown hair too! And the prettiest blue eyes."

"Asav…" You mutter.

To save you from explaining for the umpteenth time, Kofun distracts him, "(Y/N) has blue eyes too, you know." He kisses your temple.

At that, Asav shifts to lay from one of his sides to the other, facing you now. He looks you in the eyes and hums. "Mm, I dunno, dad. They look purple to me."

"They change colors depending on the light."

"Woah!" Asav exclaims, "That's so cool! Do mine do the same?"

"Sure they do."

"One, two, three, four, five…"

One morning, Asav had asked you to take him along for your daily duties at the Valier tribe. The stubborn boy wouldn't take no for an answer.

Kofun, knowing that your duties were far harder one-handed, not to mention without sight, offered to take Asav around instead. Still, he persisted. Not only did he demand to be with you for every task, hard and grueling as you painted them out to be, he also demanded to be carried around.

For being raised over half his life away from the crown, he was acting like a spoiled prince. He was your prince, anyway. Regardless of the fact he was of royal blood.

You feel each plant's fruit, feeling their hardness or mushiness and their size. "Six, seven–"

"Twelve." Asav says with a grin. You may not be able to see his joy, but you can hear it in his voice.

"Twelve what, Asav?" You question.

"Twelve fruits that are still growing." He replies.

"And how many ready?"

"Three."

You hum, pleased. Although there were a total of twenty fruit plants growing, he had identified the majority. You were proud. "Well done, Asav. Could you tell me which planter has ripe–"

"And five mushy ones!" Oh. Overripe, shoot.

"Point them out to me, Asav."

"Okay! Ripe fruit in…"

Asav enjoyed making people happy. When the laughter wrinkled the edges of their eyes and their lips turned to smiles, he felt accomplished, and accomplishment made him feel happy. Of course, he also enjoyed feeling happy. He loved the feeling of it, bubbling within his chest and bursting out in the form of laughter.

Due to his sight, Asav had discovered the concept of 'pranks' early on. For example, the tribe tinkerer. She was in charge of making new walking sticks and mechanisms to solve the tribe's problems. Sometimes, when there was no problem, she simply enjoyed making something new.

In a world of darkness, everything was arranged in a specific order. No item was to be left out of place, else it is lost to the darkness.

Asav started by moving the saw. He knew, through observation, that the tinkerer would start there.

As she reached for the saw, she felt nothing but thin air. She scratched her head. "Hmm, where is it…" When alas she found it, she moved on with her project.

Asav saw her reach for the nails, so he moved away the hammer silently.

She scratched her head and sighed, "Was I drunk last night?" She asked herself. Asav didn't know what the word meant, so he made a mental note to ask later.

The cycle continued on. When the tinkerer reached for one item, Asav moved the instrument that was related to it.

Once the project was finished, Asav revealed himself.

"Hey, little man!" The tinkerer coos, bringing Asav up to sit on her lap. "Do you wanna check out my new project?"

"Actually, I already saw it." He proclaims triumphantly.

"Oh, really?" She asks.

"Yeah! I've been here all along!"

The tinkerer gasps dramatically, smacking her cheeks with fierceness. "No way! Was it you that moved all my tools?"

He giggles, "Yup!"

"You little rascal!" She gives him a noogie, and Asav shouts at the harmless burns that the movement brings to his head.

Most of Asav's pranks didn't cause any harm. They were a matter of slight annoyance, if anything. And, after being discovered, nobody could get mad at the youngest Valier. The kid was simply too friendly and energetic to be bothered by.

But like every little kid, sometimes Asav doesn't know when he's taking things too far.

Asav is an observer. He recognizes habits within the Valier tribe, like where most things are located, when certain people come and go from their homes, and how hunters prepare for the hunt.

Most of all, he notices the tapping of walking sticks around the tribe and their pattern. Tap, tap. Side to side motion.

When he catches sight of you, a plan quickly forms in his head.

Once you finally reach the spot where he hides and your stick lifts for the next tap, he takes the tip of your walking stick and yanks as hard as he can with his little body; which is apparently too much.

"Ah!" You shout as you make your descent to the floor.

Asav giggles as he watches you fall. The shout catches passerby's attention, causing a small circle to form around you. "(Y/N)?" They call and snap their fingers, trying to find you.

Kofun pushes past the crowd. "Asav?" He has little time to figure what's going on before he helps you up.

"Careful." Along with you, he grabs your stick that had also fallen and aligns it correctly. He snaps his fingers so you may locate it yourself. "Are you alright, my love?"

"Yes, yes. Just a little tumble." You assure him and the crowd, who begin to leave.

Kofun, however, is not convinced. "Are you sure?"

You kiss him on the cheek to soothe his concern. "Yes. You can see, Kofun. And if you use that sight, you might notice there's not a scratch on my body."

He sighs, "Alright."

Meanwhile, Asav watches. He observes the situation, noting his dad's concern and his papa's effort to stand. "Dad?" He calls.

Kofun's attention turns to him again. "Asav. Did you see what happened?"

"I–" He's scared to admit it. "I did that."

"Oh, Asav." Kofun says disappointedly, parting from you to tap his son on the top of the head. "We don't do that. You could've harmed (y/n)."

"I didn't know!" The boy exclaims.

"It's alright," Kofun sighs, giving him a little hug. "as long as you apologize."

Asav quickly rushes forward, wrapping his arms around your thighs and burying his head into your belly. "I'm sorry," He stares up into your eyes, hoping you can see the regret in his own. "papa."

Instead of patting him in the head and accepting his apology or reprimanding him and frowning, you gasp. Behind him, Kofun gasps too.

"What?" Asav asks, confused. "What did I do?"

"Asav…" You say, drawing his attention back to you. "What did you call me?"

"Papa." He replies, simply. He quirks his head to the side. Was that not who you were? The God flame had two names, God flame and sun. Didn't you have two, as well? (Y/N) and papa?

"Aww." You coo, bringing Asav up in your arms. "Asav, am I your papa?"

"Yes." He affirms, though still confused. How could you not be?

You kiss him on the forehead. "Thank you."

"For?"

You chuckle, "Don't worry about it."

Kofun joins in, squishing his—your son between the two of you and pressing a swift kiss to your lips. Asav voices his disgust, but the both of you ignore him. "Then who am I, Asav?" Kofun asks.

"Dad."

Dad and Papa, taking care of little Asav.