AN:

This is what happens when I just say screw it all and its also the reason why I don't do humor normally.

I'll admit that this story is a bit messed up in the beginning, but let's be honest, it would probably be a fairly accurate description of how the characters would act in these circumstances. If you don't believe me, rewatch the series.

Also, some spoilers.

December 5th, 2000

"Congratulations, your Majesty. It's a baby boy."

After eleven hours of difficult labor, Marianne finally gave birth. How in the world did that little shit stain manage to stay inside of her for that long? Was he intentionally trying to make my life more difficult? It was like every time the crown of his head showed for just a second, he just crawled right back up in there. I just had to sit through eleven freakin hours with my wife screaming obscenities and crushing my hand to dust. I can't even feel my fingers anymore. None of my other consorts ever put me through this much hell, though most of them never did ask for me to witness the birth of those other little balls of fat.

"Ah, he's so precious! Look how cute he is, Charles," Marianne exclaimed as she coddled the newborn.

"Yes, yes, very adorable," I gruff noncommittally. This was a mistake I quickly realized. I wasn't talking to just any of the other inbred consorts. I was actually talking to the one that actually had a brain and the Knightmare to call me out on my shit.

"Charles... You didn't even look. Will you at least hold him. He is your son!" she pouted.

Not wanting to test her patience, I quickly uncrossed my arms so she could place him in my hands.

Seeing my compliance, she quickly moved to hand off the baby to me. I could see the excitement just oozing out of her eyes. What was it with women and showing off their baby to their husbands? You would think that having stayed with her for the entire process that I already did my mandatory duties as that child's father. Ingrate probably wouldn't even appreciate how much time I had invested into him. I already did more for him than I did for his other half-siblings. I even have the numb and broken hand to prove it.

Wait... I can't feel my hand... Shit!

"Charles! You dropped him!" Marianne yelled furiously as our damaged offspring decided to let its pain known to the world.

"I'll get you a new one!" I quickly exclaimed out of sheer panic.

"Wha... Well with the Ragnarok Plan, I guess it won't matter in the end."

Would that even work? The C world is where all consciousness goes after death, but wouldn't his normal consciousness not exist since he very likely has brain damage? Ah screw it. She made the excuse, and I'm not going to correct her on her misunderstanding if it'll stop her from castrating me.

"Exactly. Now I know you want to spoil someone rotten, so I'm willing to make another and sit through the whole process again," I said with that tiny compromise so as to keep her ire down. Hopefully this second one won't be as much as a fiasco as this first one.

"Then let's get started!" my wife exclaimed.

I could only respond with an intelligent, "What?"

This earned me a huff and a rather annoyed look from the woman. She began talking at a slow pace as though she were speaking to an idiot.

"I want to spoil my child now, but you broke the first one. I'm only willing to forgive you because I'll be able to spoil my darling boy after Ragnarok. But I'm only willing to wait for my second child for nine months, so get to it!"

Didn't she just go through labor? Why would she want anything going in between her legs, in or out, now? Aren't most mothers normally turned off by the idea of sex for at least a while after going through the ordeal?

Not wanting to give in to her demands for procreation now and not wanting to piss her off more, I asked, "But shouldn't we do something about... the boy?"

"Charles, we are going to make another baby and that's final!"

"Yes, dear!"

Marianne and Charles are going at it again? I don't see why they bother considering they just plan on wiping all life out at some point. You would think that the Ragnarok plan would make them hesitant over the idea of bringing children into the world. I mean, they would have to spend the rest of eternity listening to the voices of their children whining about how... Why do I hear a baby crying in the room?

Out of curiosity, I decided to peak into the hospital room to investigate. Yep. Charles and Marianne are doing the nasty on the bed, and... Is that the baby crying on the ground next to them! Oh god! Charles does get off on the tears of babies! I thought it was just something that V.V. said as an offhand joke when Charles started his world conquest, but he was telling the truth! This is just so wrong!

Not wanting the baby to be subjected to this sort of treatment right at the get go, I strolled in, picked up the baby(who stopped crying the moment I picked him up), and walked out. His parents never even noticed.

Looking down in my arms, I was greeted by the sight of two vibrant purple eyes staring innocently at me. The way the baby cocked its head to the side and remained silent made it look as though it were curious about who I was. The image was quite cute, until I noticed that there was a little bit of blood on the side of his head.

"Well that's unfortunate little one," I said sorrowfully to myself. Minutes into parenthood and those two idiots royally fucked up already. Was that why they were already trying to make a second one? Did they even name the little baby in their hurry to make another baby?

That was when the baby decided to try to suckle through my clothes.

"I'm not your mama. I don't have any milk for you," I chuckled lightly as his attempts would prove fruitless in the end.

And then it happened.

"If I grant you power, could you go on? I propose a deal—in exchange for this power, you must agree to make my one wish come true. Accept this contract, and you accept its conditions. While living in the world of humans, you will live unlike any other: a different providence, a different time, a different life. The Power of the King will condemn you to a life of solitude. Are you prepared for this?"

"Mama!"