There were a lot of oranges in the house.

Two tiny heads of soft and fiery hair barely peeking over the edge of the crib, both glaring at the world with the same defiant spark he saw in the mirror every morning. An orange cat — adopted on a whim during your sixth month of pregnancy — that now resided over the nursery room like a self-appointed guardian. And then, of course, there was him.

He hasn't really considered himself to be the sentimental type. He’s one of the Fatui Harbingers, Tsaritsa’s notable warrior, someone whose hands were more used to wielding blades than cradling something fragile. But the first time his gaze saw them — really saw them, his precious twin baby girls, bundled and squirming and crying like the world was ending, his heart had clenched.

It melted.

He finds himself leaning over the crib, gaze fondly looking down at his children. One of them had balled her fists and the other was wailing — he can only assume why. He sighs, equal parts exasperated and utterly enchanted.

His babies were natural born fighters, that he can immediately tell.

They were perfect. Adorable. Loud. Demanding. But perfect.

It was uncanny, honestly, how much they looked like him. Same vivid hair, same sharp glint in their eyes when they were focused (on crying, usually). You joked it was like you’d contributed nothing but the patience to tolerate his genes. He couldn’t even deny it. They were his little mirror images, except smaller, softer, and blessedly free of blood on their tiny fists.

He was fiercely, stupidly proud as their father.

“Look at them.” He murmured almost softly as his babies quieted down, falling asleep, before glancing back at you. “Tough crowd, aren't they?”

He finds himself reaching in carefully, brushing a thumb over a soft chubby cheek, marveling at how small and real they were.

“Thank you.” He breathes out, one arm snaking around your form as he pulls you into his embrace, vulnerable and grateful. He thinks words would never be able to express how much he’s feeling — how thankful he was that you gave him beautiful twins, how excited he was to watch his children grow into wonderful people. “I love you three so much. And I guess, the cat too.”

The cat yawned on the dresser, flicking its tail as if unimpressed.

“My little oranges.” He murmured, almost laughing softly to himself as he pressed a kiss against your temple. “Love you. Archons, I love you so much."