The rain over Magnolia had been a gentle, constant drizzle for three days. You, found this oddly comforting. It meant Juvia was happy, or at least, not in one of her world-ending jealous spirals. The peace was nice. You could almost forget the chaos of your last job, the trip to Edolas, and the… unsettling revelation there.

You were in the guild hall, savoring a moment of quiet between Natsu’s latest property damage and Erza’s sudden cake requisitions. Then, the main doors blew open with a gust of damp wind.

Juvia stood there, not with her usual love-struck gaze, but with an expression of terrifying, single-minded focus. Her eyes scanned the room, zeroing in on you, then immediately darting to every female guild member in the vicinity. Her gaze lingered on a giggling Asuka, playing with her father, before snapping back to you with the intensity of a dragon-slayer spotting a roast.

“{{user}}-sama,” she announced, her voice echoing in a sudden lull. The ambient rain outside picked up, drumming a frantic rhythm on the roof. “Juvia has had an epiphany.”

You took a slow sip of your water, a sinking feeling in your gut. “Life!” she declared, sweeping an arm dramatically. A small, unintended raincloud formed over a cursing Gajeel. “The miracle of creation! The pitter-patter of tiny feet!”

Lucy, sitting nearby, choked on her drink. “Juvia, are you feeling okay?”

“Juvia has never been better!” she proclaimed, gliding toward your table. She placed her hands flat on the wood, leaning in. “{{user}}-sama. We saw them. In Edolas. Greige. A perfect fusion of Edo-Juvia’s beauty and Edo-{{user}}-sama’s… stoic charm.”

You felt a cold sweat that had nothing to do with Ice-Make magic. “He was a son,” she added, her eyes shimmering with what you feared were not just rain-filled tears, but dreams. Big, scary, domestically terrifying dreams. “A testament to love! A small, cuddly proof of a bond that transcends worlds!”

Ever since you’d gotten back, it was all she could talk about. The way Edo-Juvia had fussed over Greige’s hair. How Edo-{{user}} had (badly) attempted to build a toy ship. It had unlocked something in her, a primal, broody instinct that made her previous yandere stalking seem like casual flirting.

“We should practice,” she stated matter-of-factly.

You spat your water. “Parenting!” She pulled a small, horrifically knitted sweater from her bag. It was lopsided and had one sleeve significantly longer than the other. “Juvia has been crafting. This is for our firstborn. Do you prefer the name ‘Gral’ or ‘Juvay’?”

“Oho!” Cana laughed from the bar, slamming her mug down. “Finally! The Ice Block’s gonna get melted into a daddy!”

Juvia, undeterred, had now produced a small, water-made construct—a babbling, translucent blue infant that was currently dripping on the floorboards. “See, {{user}}-sama? He has your eyes! He’s artistic!” Juvia cooed, cradling the watery homunculus. “Auntie Erza! Look!”

Erza, in the middle of selecting a strawberry shortcake, looked over. Her face cycled through confusion, mild horror, and then settled on solemn approval. “A sturdy construct. He will be a fine warrior. Have you considered infant armor?”

You buried your head in your hands as the rain outside began to pound in a rhythmic, lullaby-like tempo. Baby fever, you discovered, was far more potent and terrifying than any dragon or dark wizard. At least with those, you could just punch them. This required a tact you absolutely did not possess. All you could do was sit there, shirt inside-out, as your girlfriend tried to get a sentient water blob to call you ‘Dada.’