This Might Be A Hot Take But Every Time Someone Hates On Natlan By Comparing It To Fontaine, A Angel

Oh, when 5.5 hits and we are like a week into the update, I will post my first multi chapter fic about the dragons. I’ve been cooking this fic up for like the past month and I’m actually so excited to start writing it. I’m a bit nervous to start a multi-chapter fic considering how I tend to lose interest in things that I do (glances at all my unfinished art works) so if anyone has tips on how to stay motivated to finish something, I would really appreciate it

If it wasn’t for these two users on x (twitter) then I would never even be on it

In filanta and luluraemi we trust

Today’s meme: I’ve come to a revelation

Thank you *dramatic bow*

Little reminder for those who finished the 5.5 World Quest

Don’t forget to return Ehecatl to its place in the temple near the Fallingstar Fields

I’ve been cackling over this for the past minute

Why do I hear “Like him” by Tyler the Creator playing??

You know, back when I thought the Tzitzimimeh were the Dragonlords, (the Tzitzimimeh are the Astral Assamblages, thanks @mauerefeu for the correction🫡) I had a silly thought that Kukulkan had other reason to hate them, beside the whole power struggle, betrayal, and 'you guys fuck up catastrophically' to each other, of course. Well... you know how there are fathers who hate their children whose mother are dead giving birth to them because they, in their fathers' view, 'killed their mother'?

Hmm... what if you know... what if... what if that subconsciously, Kukulkan also thought like that?

What if he saw Xiuhcoatl sacrificing his time and wisdom not to find a way to save himself, but to create the Dragonlords, and thought, 'he should've saved himself'? What if he saw the Dragonlords growing, thriving, taking the authorities over the cities, while Xiuhcoatl rotted away, and thought 'he sacrificed himself for them'? What if he saw the Dragonlords fighting him and among themselves, and thought, 'Xiuhcoatl is dying for these incompetent fools'?

...Like... how does that feel? Imagine ruling together with incompetent, bellicose, hostile people, and they have something from your brother- his blood, the names he forged, his love- and they hate you. Imagine living with the mirrors of your dying brother's face, and they hate you.

You hate them too.

I wonder if he saw them fighting and thought, "they are killing him. They say they love him but truly, they are killing him.'

But heyyyyy, this is just a silly thought haha. And it's confirmed that the Tzitzimimeh are not the Dragonlords and it's not like we know whether Xiuhcoatl truly viewed him as his children haha so this is just a silly thought😄

Okay but this thought has infiltrated my thought so much, I gotta write a little drabble hahaha. Featuring CL-04 "Hermit of Myriad Fates" Aj Awaj K'umilal Kan and Kukulkan haha.

"You have his face."

CL-04 almost dropped his flask. "...Pardon?"

The Lord Regent didn't say anything again. As if his mouth had always been shut.

CL-04 gritted his teeth, and exhaled, continuing his experiment. The small quantity of liquid phlogiston flowing from one flask to another, merging with other substances. It flowed slow and it glowed.

He still saw the Lord Regent's face behind him. Just as impersonal.

The grind of his teeth returned. Truly, what had came to posses him to allow the Lord Regent barging into his laboratory? Did he aim to watch him fumble? To watch him fail? To watch him in a little bit of setback or misstep, and used it to humiliate him in the Chamber of Deliberation?

To steal his invention? Hah, didn't the Regent have his own pet back in his own pen? Disgusting aberration wearing the face of a human, the merging of their species and aforesaid human's soul?

'Why don't you play with your own pet, Lord Regent?' His tongue itched to say, yet he wisely kept his mouth shut. 'Focus, spend your energy on only important matters.'

Yet his back burned by the Regent's stare, boring a hole. He gripped his flask tighter before he decided to turn his back and finally stand agaisnt him-

Only for the Regent to utter again, "...You have his face."

'What is it?!' "...Do explain the meaning of your words, Lord Regent. I find it hard to comprehend." 'Or just leave, if you merely wished to prattle at length, you wicked old coot.'

"Then you must be a fool." He said cooly, stepping closer instead. "What a shame, with a brain as yours, you fail to comprehend such a simple remark."

CL-04 braced himself, as if readying a charging opponent's sword. But it wasn't a far-off description for this old demented fart. "I-"

Then, a flash. The Regent was right in front of his face in a moment. He couldn't breath from utter shock. How could this old coot- "That's it. That's his expression. When he's in focus. When he's simmering in a barely hidden irritation."

The old coot grabbed his chin, claws digging to his cheeks. "That little smirk like he has it all figured. That edge on his lips as he gritted his teeth. Hah, perfect copy."

...All of you do."

He- he was talking about fath- Lord Sovereign? How dare he, such audacity! He slapped his hand away with sheer anger, batting his hand away as if touching a filth. "You better watch your gestures, Lord Regent. Such uncouth behaviour is unfitting for your station. Repulsive, even."

He didn't react with anything. Just squinting with that scrutinizing and inscrutable eyes of his. Repulsing.

But then, a sound.

A soft chuckle, sounding more like defeat.

A scoff.

"I have a feeling that my station nor my title would hold such an importance in your eyes, anymore. In my mind, they have already lost their meaning."

Cryptic, demented, a fool. What other adjectives would be apt for him? Yet instead of irritation, simmering anger lacing every blowing jabs, another feeling, shivering senses that crawled upon his spine and nape, gave way. Dangerously close to pity. "...Our Lord Sovereign has trusted you with the position. The throne and his people is your duty to bear."

"...Hah. How reassuring are your words, Fourth Lord. I am at ease now. Spoken like a true Dragonlord."

For a moment, CL-04 chose silence. Diverting his attention back to his experiment, thinking that the strange conversation had reached its end.

But then the Lord Regent stepped away, outside, his back turned against him with his hands folded behind. "...You don't even call him Father, anymore, as expected. None of you do. None of you."

The flask he gripped cracked. When he turned to the Lord Regent's figure, he was already gone. As if his presence and voice never existed and mocked him there.

His hands bled, shards of glass embedded on his palm, burning with phlogiston. He cleaned them away, the pain subsiding with ease, just like how the wounds came so easily closed.

Father's blood.

Tommorow, when CL-02's proposal came with silent thunder. Everybody exchanged glances with each other, suspicious, because everybody really knew what the outcome would be, he breathed out not even a word. His hand steady as he voted, 'abstain', just like the eternally neutral CL-01, the insouciant CL-03, and the weak-hearted CL-08. None truly resisted. Nobody did.

Yet how the favourers glared at them as if they had committed a terrible crime. How their minds must be painting terrible cases of betrayal and defenses for the impeached regent. Must be thinking that they were loyal to him until the very end.

No, not him. At least not him. There was no affection lost between CL-04 and the detested Regent, no matter how hard they suspect that they shared a mutual love for the quest of knowledge together. No, not at all.

But, there was indeed a little sensation, a shiver beneath the skin, a wrench beneath the rot, when he touched his chin discreetly, watching his fellow Dragonlords' appearances with scrutinizing yet hidden glances, recalling the Regent's words of yesterday.

He wondered if the Regent saw the same faces, everyday, every waking moments, that same awful reminders, if he had saw what he saw. If he envisioned the same gleam of the eyes watching detestably against him.

If he saw Father in everyone's faces.

But that was tommorow. For now, he also touched his chin with the hand that was healing. Closing scars and tissue touching the shape of the chin sculpted in a remembrance of its sculptor.

Man, the world quest killed me…. Have a sketchbook doodle of our favourite doomed siblings… They needed a break. Some rest. I swear–

And prepare for most heart shattering artworks I’m going to make soon.

Chapters: 2/3 Fandom: 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Xiuhcoatl (Genshin Impact), The 13 Dragonlords (Genshin Impact), CL-01 “Valiant One” Aj Nimalaj Chuq'ab Hun (Genshin Impact), CL-02 “Jade Maiden” Ix Je'lal K'ua'l Ka’ (Genshin Impact), CL-08 “Priestess of Floral Candles and Skyborne Feathers” Ix Ajkotz'i'j Iq'ismal (Genshin Impact) Additional Tags: Natlan (Genshin Impact), Natlan Lore (Genshin Impact), Tollan Volcano (Genshin Impact), Genshin Impact Lore, Father-Son Relationship, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fatherhood, Dysfunctional Family, Family Drama, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family Dynamics, Family Issues, Bcs the Dragonlords were certainly so chokeful of it, Not Good, Self-Indulgent Summary:

My sweet son. My jewel. My precious feather.

Using the last of his time and wisdom left to him, the Pyro Sovereign created the Dragonlords, Sovereign Rulers who would presided over the Dragonborns during his absence. And yet, despite the edicts and mandates they have passed, the only thing the Dragonlords consistently achieve were further disunity and fractures within their own kind.

Eventually, came the time they would gnaw the bones of their own kin. In another world, this was but a symptomp of an acute, grave disease within the Dragonborn’s society. As they would eventually fall by the swords of the children of man.

Here, He wakes up just in time to halt the cannibalization amongst his kin. Just in time to tear their teeth from sinking into their own flesh & blood.

Or: Xiuhcoatl regained clarity just in time during CL-08’s execution.

Chapter 2 is up! This time featuring the Secondborn and the first daughter, CL-02 “Jade Maiden” Ix Je'lal K'ua'l Ka’!

Rada, I’m going to explode if you don’t post this on Ao3. THIS WAS SO GOOD OMFG!!! I do not even have the right words to express how much I loved this. Definitely gonna reread it 100 times until the end of times come.

I KEPT LAUGHING AT KUKULKAN’S WAY OF DESCRIBING THE BABY 😭🙏.

ONGGGGG I CAN'T ANYMORE I HAVE TO WRITE FIRST-TIME MAMA XIUHCOATL STRUGGLING WITH HIS FIRSTBORN BABY CL-01 AAAAAAA I CANNOT CONTROL MY HANDS-

Written from Kukulkan's pov. Beware the bitterness. But Nibelung is here too and I write them really chill🤙

Btw should I upload this in Ao3 or let it stay in tumblr jail alongside the CL-04 fic?

"You should entrust him to a servant, my lord."

His lordly elder brother, the Sovereign whose dominion resided over the element of Pyro, ruler of the land blessed by phlogiston, the ever-majestic, wise, powerful, Xiuhcoatl, barely could turn his head.

All his attention was given to the little bundle in his arms, his eyes flitted between that tiny thing and Kukulkan, worried.

"I. Cannot." He said, in between that flitting gaze. "The Formidable Father would arrive soon and the people would hail us. We have not the time-"

"All the more reason to entrust him to a servants arms, my lord. Or shall you let him embarass us with his... behaviour?"

Xiuhcoatl opened his mouth, probably wanting to spit something laced with offence, but the baby's wail cut through his spite.

It was thundering, that wail. Raging and deafening like the coming of torrent. One that was haunting this entire moment.

Xiuhcoatl shushed that tiny thing, but the sound seemed only to egg that horrid thing to cry louder.

Kukulkan should have expected this outcome ever since the proposal of a formal meeting between them, the kingdom of the Primal Flame, and the Formidable Father, was voiced. It was not like the Formidable Father never visited his fellow Sovereigns, he came and went like the calming breeze, always welcomed and amicable. But this was the first time that he would officially 'meet' the Pyro Sovereign and his court, ever since the birth of its newest member,

That little, wailing thing, screaming atop of its tiny lungs and grasping his tiny fists to the sky, as if the air surrounding him offends him, whom Xiuhcoatl desperately tried to soothe.

That title and name tasted bitter in his tongue now, ash-like.

On a second thought, he should've see this coming in the moment when Xiuhcoatl hailed his birth, surprising and staggering, as he announced the baby by lifting with his hands up above for the whole stupefied court to see.

"Behold," he had boasted, full of bright smile and misplaced pride, "your first Dragonlord, my first son, CL-01, the Valiant One, Aj Nimalaj Chuq'ab Hun!"

The entire court was silent when they laid their eyes on them. And the silence was even more deafening when the sounds of that newborn's name and title resounded throughout the hall.

Before that moment, Xiuhcoatl had shutted himself inside his laboratory. One flowed with the power of the Primal Flame, the space filled with their races birthing blood.

None of Xiuhcoatl's subjects could know for certain what made him cooped there for so long, and some whisper in fear that he would bring a bad omen through his hands. Kukulkan had scoffed at that. Whatever objects or plans his brother had concocted, it was love and hope that he built the base upon. Not that Kukulkan would utter that knowledge straight to his brother's ears, though.

Alas, the thing that had emerged from his room and hoisted above upon that confounded crowd was beyond anyone's prediction, even Kukulkan's.

It was when the first shout had come, "He's glorious, my lord!"

And the other followed, "Yes, he shines bright and beautiful. Indeed, he shall grow strong and great!"

"Verily so, even now he must embodied the meaning of his name, the Valiant One!"

"The Valiant, our Dragonlord!"

And the cacophony of praise and well-wishes that followed, and the even brighter, burning smile that adorned his brother's face back then, that it had registered upon Kukulkan's mind-

'...First son?'

Xiuhcoatl had scolded him, that he, "has not received the newest member of our kin with proper joy and welcome. Please, Kukulkan. I know your character, but could you please be joyous in regard to the growing number of our brood?"

How back then he almost shouted, 'How could that thing could be of our blood, without foretelling or even a warning!? How could you just brought him up and force us to just accept him with fanfare!?'

But then he had chosen to grunt. How he sorely regretted to not voice his complain back then.

Now they must confront the damning consequence of that inaction. The shrill, ear-splitting yells. "How much time it takes to call a servant and calm him down? They stand just behind us. I shall call them now-"

"No, no, a huge crowd of people would only unsettle him more." As if Xiuhcoatl didn't display him upon the court back then, and they wouldn't formally introduce him to the highest power of the world soon enough! The little thing didn't scream his lungs off when he was propped above the crowd, nor the events after that.

He was fed. He was clothed. He slept well and enough. He was warm and he was loved. This little brat was crying just to spite them. "He'll calm down soon enough. We-"

"The 'soon enough' would be the time when the Formidable Father arrived, my lord. Of course, if you wish to greet them with such a furious cry, I have no objection, my lord."

The thing's wail cut the air once again, as if an enemy nodding along with his opponent's remark. Did this thing understand that they were in opposing sides?

"Good grief, Kukulkan. He's young, of course he would cry." He snarled, rocking the baby back and forth, patting his back, hoisting him closer. "I recall that your tears were also easily drawn out, back when we were also mere youth. You cannot judge him-"

"They were not without reason. And it is not my point. Just entrust him to a servant and be done with it. Once he calmed down, call the servant again and only after that we present him to-"

"No one could soothe him beside his nursemaid and I. And his nursemaid has called ill-"

"He has an array of caretakers. With only one fallen, the other must step up to her place. And it's her duty in the first place-"

"I've said that only his nursemaid and I could soothe his cries. No other than us could. And you think that I would work a subject of mine through her illness? I am not that-"

"Goodness, you are spoiling that child, you make him weak. He should accept that not all the world would fall to their knees and lick the ground he stepped-"

Before they could continue their argument, suddenly, as if finally gathering sentience and understanding the quarrel and the situation, that yelling, red-faced thing, ceased his terrible cries.

That was enough to silence them both. Xiuhcoatl slowed down his rocking and took a closer look to his face, scrutinizing, but with a look of relief.

Kukulkan was more than glad to voice his relieved groan, "Finally, he quiten down. Ah, raise your gaze, lord brother. The wings of the moon-"

"Wait," Xiuhcoatl said, worriedly, so much that Kukulkan returned his gaze to him. "He's ruckling his face."

"...And why is that concerning?"

"Because when he does that, he-"

Alas, Xiuhcoatl's words were cut off by the powerful blow of the wind, generated by the flaps of massive wings, currently shrinking. And yet, though greatly reducing the size, the figure still stood tall and majestic, glowing like the moon.

Formidable Father was here.

Kukulkan and Xiuhcoatl immediately bowed, though it was more difficult for the latter with the baby in tow. Somehow, even with Kukulkan noticing, the baby prevented their minds to fully register the coming of this venerable figure. Kukulkan tried to save their graces by opening the greeting. Bending his knees, kissed the earth, and said with his eyes still upon the ground "You have wearied yourself in coming, Formidable Father. Come and rest, my-"

"There is no need for such formality, dear child. My coming here is none other to greet the newest member of your brood. Come closer, my child. Is that tiny babe in your arms the expected child? Even afar, I could hardly describe him other than precious and charming. Yes, come closer, I wish to see him properly."

Xiuhcoatl, despite the reluctance exuding from his figure, stepped forward. From the years of standing by his side that Kukulkan could notice Xiuhcoatl's trembling arms and nervous gestures, as he display the baby in his arms, things that he easily hidden from others in plain sight. How his throat gulped when the Formidable Father touched the child, even tenderly. "May I?"

As if any of them could ever refuse the mightiest Sovereign. Xiuhcoatl gave the baby to them, though his serene expression said, 'no, no, please, my son, not now. Please, not in front of the Formidable Father.' The dragon in question received the bundle with such warmth, with such care, one could believe that they shared blood, that they were a pair of a grandfather, a father, and the newly born son.

Almost like a family.

Alas, not all thing is as soft as it looks. Ah, the ugliest and smelliest thing is also soft, too.

That was the happening now. The Formidable Father, though shrinked, still towered in figure and size. His two palms were enough to wrap the entirety of the baby's figure. He looked more cupped than held in the Formidable Father's hands, even with all the swadling cloth. Xiuhcoatl, seeing that there was no incident imminent, seen from the way he softened his gaze, started to talk to the Formidable Father about the baby, the growing city that he designated to be ruled by the tiny being in their arms someday (yet another decision that he took almost by himself), and his own state of affairs.

All almost went so well, too well, in fact, that the aforementioned happening that was thought to be avoided, turns out was being merely delayed.

Because then, between that the talk, the babe stirred.

And it was not the stirring of awakening, of regaining energy to behold the world with that childish sentience. No, it was-

"Ah," the Formidable Father said, so soft it almost sound as mere exertion of his breaths, if not for the stench of foulness, and the wriggling figure in their hands. "...it seems... the babe has..."

They did not need to continue. The smell already indicated everything.

And how horrified Xiuhcoatl's expression was.

The next passing was almost blurry with its chaos and hastiness. Xiuhcostl snatched the baby from the Formidable Father's hands, almost running off, but then stopped himself first with penitent bowing and frantic apologies, saying that he couldn't stay in this place before he ran away. Of course, he entrusted the duty to explain and clean the Formidable Father to him, his brother, always the convenient scapegoat. How he trembled, sighed, and frustratedly carried on his mission, both fearing and expecting the highest Sovereign's wrath.

Them, however, took the terrible happening with humor, as if it was something to be guffawed about. "I know that he's too quiet for a babe his age. I should already expect that. My, my." Then they laughed their heart away as they cleaned their hands.

If there was any lesson to be taken from such an embarassing happening, was that his brothet should curdle his foolish hope of raising another product of this kind of experiment. Bury that notion of "second son, third son" beneath the deepest of the ground. Thankfully, it seemed that this shameful moment hammered that thought deep inside Xiuhcoatl's mind. At least even when the baby's cries resounded throughout the palace, the thought that it would multiplied by quantity would not become a reality, and it gave him a good quality of sleep.

(Later on, when his brother emerged from his experiment chamber, the same one with phlogiston blessing upon the air, soil, and current, the wisdom that birthed his first child, face aglow, tired yet joyous, he did not need another announcement to know what was coming. The only thing that slightly surprised him though, was his wistful smile, "This is my second child and first daughter, CL-02, the Jade Maiden, Ix Je'lal K'ua'l Ka'".

He badly hope then, that the babe was slightly better than her elder brother. Younger siblings tend to be better than their elders, after all. Kukulkan himself was the example.)

She might explode in three seconds but only time will tell