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sirenpearldust · 1 month ago

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Found you 2

Baby Daddy Azriel!

Series masterlist ⋆ Part one ⋆ Part three

Pair: Azriel x Spring Court! Reader

Word count: 3.050

Warning: fluff

Summary: conditions are set

Azriel sat up straighter in his seat, he cleaned up, looked more put together. He wanted to make a better impression on his son than last time. The memory of his terrified face hasn’t left him, it has been haunting his dreams. Just the reminder unsettled him.

A hint of nervousness crept in, what if one misstep meant he wouldn’t be allowed to see his son again?

Meanwhile, you watched him as he sat across from you, dressed in black pants and a blouse that accentuated every defined muscle he had honed through years of training in the illyrian camps.

His piercing hazel eyes wandered intensely as he surveyed the room. Until they locked onto you, sharp and unyielding. His knuckles repeatedly tightened until they turned white before he forced himself to let go. Black massive wings folded tightly against his back, his shadows swirling around him, still inspecting the unfamiliar space.

Instead of his usual cold, detached demeanor, irritation flickered across his features.

That’s a first, you thought.

For once, he wasn’t emotionless.

For once, he was unraveling and it was because of you.

You had to hand it to his genes, you had basically birthed his twin. Amias was the spitting image of him, inheriting the same elegant planes of his face, a beauty that was almost otherworldly. He had his hair, his wings and even his skin tone. The only feature that set him apart were his eyes. Those were yours, a striking reminder of your Spring Court legacy shining through.

You still remembered the sadness, the ache in your chest as you watched your son grow into the features of his father.

The same scowl, the same smile, the same dimples.

It felt like a cruel twist of fate that your son had to look so much like the man who had caused you so much pain.

Sipping your tea, you deliberately avoided his gaze, focusing instead on the view outside. He didn’t deserve an ounce of your attention, not anymore.

You two were here for one reason and one reason only; to discuss Amias. You had to push your feelings aside, no matter how difficult it was.

It hadn’t been part of your plan for Amias to get to know Azriel. He wasn’t supposed to find out about him, he was meant to be raised by you, away from any danger.

Azriel’s presence now posed a threat to your role as a parent and as a noble in Spring. His work was dangerous enough and his ties to the Inner Circle only added more risks. The already volatile situation in Spring was bad enough already. You didn’t need to be accused of treason or colluding with the enemy, you’ve already had enough problems.

“Are you going to sit there silent again and not say anything?” Azriel asked, his shadows darkening around him.

Your lip curled in a faint smile. It was almost amusing, holding something over him, having a semblance of power for once. You might have felt guilty for using your son in this way, but Amias didn’t even know his father, not really, not the way you did.

He had no idea of the darkness and cruelty Azriel was capable of.

“You’re too loud,” you said softly, setting your tea cup down. His wings bristled, and you could tell it had pissed him off.

“I��ll lay the conditions out for you,” you continued, calm and unwavering.

“Be against even one of them and you’ll have no right to see my son.”

“Our son,” Azriel corrected, his jaw tightening as his knuckles turned white again. He knew, he knew you had set traps, and he wasn’t sure if he was prepared to navigate them.

“He’s my son too, Y/N,” Azriel said, frustration lacing his voice as his hand ran through his hair roughly.

“I only want what’s best for him.”

You ignored him.

Without a glance in his direction, you opened the folder and slid the sheet in front of him, wordlessly demanding his attention to what truly mattered now.

The conditions were clear and non-negotiable. They were there to protect Amias and you.

1. You are not allowed to take Amias without my permission.

2. Wherever you go with him, you must inform me first.

3. He’s my heir and will receive his education in Spring.

4. He will not train in the Illyrian camps unless he is of age and wishes to do so.

5. You will have no authority over me as his mother.

6. You will be a present father unless he chooses not to see you.

7. Your highest priority is to protect him, cherish him and ensure his safety.

8. You will treat him with respect, kindness and love.

9. You will not arrange or force any marriage upon him.

10. You will not harm me, kill me, or order anyone else to do so in order to have Amias.

11. You will not inform your family of his existence without my permission.

12. You will protect Amias before anyone else, this includes you protecting and serving your High Lord or your mate.

13. You will protect what is mine and what is automatically our son’s legacy.

14. In the event of my death, you will safeguard his wealth, inheritance and well-being. No one shall touch it.

15. You will not take Amias out of Spring unless he is in grave danger, or I am dead.

16. If you choose to have any other children, you are to treat them the same as Amias.

17. Any woman you decide to stay in a relationship with and who is to get to know our son, you will introduce to me first.

18. In the case of a mating bond between us, you will not force it upon me and will let it go if I do not want it.

19. You will not disturb my private life, you will treat me with respect and courtesy.

Azriel rubbed his temples, clearly irritated.

Most of the conditions were reasonable, but the restrictions on when and how he could see Amias gnawed at him.

Why did you have to control every aspect? Why did you have to approve when and if he could spend time alone with his son, or when his family could know about his existence?

“Can I introduce him to my family?” Azriel asked, his voice tight with frustration.

“No,” you replied coldly, your gaze unwavering. You hated the Night Court, they were the reason for Spring’s ruin and had caused multiple issues in Prythian across almost every court.

“He has a cousin,” Azriel pressed.

“You and I have no living siblings,” you shot back.

Azriel’s temper flared.

“Rhys has a son.”

“He’s your High Lord,” you responded flatly.

“He’s my brother.”

You sighed rolling your eyes. “Sure.”

“So can he see his cousin?”

“No!”

Azriel groaned in frustration, his patience running thin.

“Will you ever allow any of this to be permissible?”

You shrugged, taking another sip of that damned tea, that Azriel now seemed to take a dislike to.

“You either accept the conditions and make this bargain, or you can say goodbye to the future you’ve imagined,” you said, your voice steady but firm.

Azriel sighed, knowing full well you were serious.

“These conditions are set to protect Amias. He doesn’t know you and I won’t thrust him into your world directly.”

“What about condition 18?” Azriel asked, his voice tight,.

“What about it?” you responded, your gaze unwavering.

“Will you reject it?”

“There is no bond,” you replied, your tone cold.

Azriel’s jaw clenched again, the tension rising in his chest. “If there is one, will you reject it?”

“Most likely.”

His heart twinged painfully and an uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach, like a bad omen. He hoped he wasn’t your mate because if he was, you would let him suffer. He was sure of it especially after what had happened.

“You know I’ll go insane from a rejected mating bond.”

You hummed in response, uncaring of the worry in his voice.

“Let’s then hope it doesn’t happen,” you said, a sharp smile playing on your lips as you met his eyes.

Azriel’s wings shuddered as the weight of the situation settled in. He didn’t feel good about this, not one bit.

“Fine,” he said, his voice resigned, “I accept all 19 conditions.”

You smiled and extended your hand. He took it without hesitation, his rough, scarred hand engulfing yours. The touch brought a flood of memories, both beautiful and painful.

Azriel couldn’t help but notice the softness of your skin, a stark contrast to the calluses and scars that marked his own.

In that brief moment, you both felt something, an electric jolt, a slight burning sensation. You felt the tattoo spreading under your chest, across your ribs. You were glad that you could hide it, no one had to know about what was happening.

Azriel’s breath caught. He opened his top, revealing the tattoo spreading underneath his pectorals. Tracing the lines with his fingers. You almost choked on your spit. What was he doing?

You quickly turned your face away, not wanting to see the sudden state of undress. It was nothing you hadn’t seen before, nothing you wanted to revisit, either.

In the brief glance you noticed something else, new scars. Some were fresh, still pink against his skin, while others had faded to white, stark against his tan.

“Roses,” Azriel murmured to himself.

“Now that we have a bargain, you can see him.”

You stood up, the white floral dress a stark contrast to Azriel’s dark attire.

Azriel was just a step behind you, he was eager to see his son.

He wanted to teach Amias how to fly, how to fight, to show him the things a father should. He wasn't going to abandon him the way he had been. No, he would be present. He would be the father his son deserved, a steady presence in his life.

For the first time in his life he had hope for a bright future, he wants to build something better, to give Amias a future full of care, love and guidance.

⋆ ♡ ⋆

Amias had been full of questions ever since he first met Azriel. His curiosity was boundless, he would comment on Azriel’s wings, marveling at how similar they were to his own. He spoke of the shadows, how they moved like his did.

Azriel’s shadows mingled with his own, twisting and swirling in a gentle dance and Amias couldn’t help but laugh whenever they played with him. They were soft and cool against his skin.

Azriel’s gaze softened when he heard his giggling. He felt this immense feeling seeing his son’s joy, feeling his happiness, hearing it, being a part of it.

He had come with presents - toys, books, sweets. He bought him books, child stories from the night court, stories of Illyrian legends, a little teddy bear and a bag filled with small cherry candies, you know Azriel enjoyed.

“Amias,” you called softly, lowering yourself to his level with open arms. He ran toward you, his little face lighting up as he kissed you on the cheek. You smiled, warmth flooding your chest as you gave him small kisses back, holding him close for a moment. You breathed him in, he smelled like a baby, you didn’t want him to grow up. He was already bigger than the other children his age.

Azriel watched the scene from a few steps behind, it stirred up memories he had long forgotten, pushed away. It reminded him of his own rare moments of excitement as a child, the joy he’d felt in those fleeting times he was allowed to see his mother, when he was out of the cell.

He observed how animatedly Amias spoke to you, his small hands gesturing wildly as he recounted his latest “battle” with his plushies. Azriel couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, he was in awe as he took in the pure, unrestrained joy of your son, their son.

Amias’s eyes wandered up to him. He immediately recognized Azriel, but this time, instead of looking scared like before, he smiled at him.

He was taken aback by his reaction. His eyes immediately searched yours, knowing you had something to do with it, but you ignored him, focused on brushing Amias’s hair.

It had grown long, already reaching his shoulders, he was in need of a new haircut.

Amias slowly slipped from your arms and stood in front of Azriel, his clothes a soft baby blue. His wings pressed tightly against his back and a shadow lingered at his feet. He stood there in awe, his eyes wide and round, smiling and giggling up at Azriel.

Azriel slowly lowered himself to Amias’s level. Even kneeling, his towering figure still loomed larger than both you and Amias. His sheer size stirred something hot inside you, something you’d buried long ago.

“Hello,” Azriel said softly.

Amias took a step back, looking at you for reassurance, as if searching for confirmation.

You smiled brightly, nodding and giving him the encouragement to go ahead. Amias turned toward Azriel again, his hands nervously fiddling. “Are you my daddy?”

Azriel’s breath hitched. There, standing in front of him, was his son, real and alive.

“Yeah, I am.”

Amias took a step toward him, wrapping his small arms around Azriel and pressing his tiny head into his chest, sniffling. You and Azriel watched as Amias’s small hands clung to him. Without hesitation, Azriel held him close as he cried silently, his heart pounding in his chest. He sat on the floor, embracing him tightly, gently caressing his head, whispering apologies for not being there all this time.

That’s how the three of you spent the afternoon into the evening, watching Amias play, him eagerly dragging both of you into his games.

Yet, he was always a little nervous, always turning toward Azriel, as if he feared his father might disappear again.

You both sat on the floor next to each other.

“Thank you,” he said, watching you. Your eyes never leaving Amias.

“For what?”

“For birthing, raising and loving him.”

“He’s my son. That’s a given.”

Azriel searched your eyes and this time, you didn’t look away. His gaze was soft and you hated the vulnerability in it.

“You know how they treat bastards.”

“We’re in spring,” you replied softly, making sure Amias wouldn’t overhear.

“Bastards are a given. What do you think happens after Calanmai?”

He nodded, relieved that his son wouldn’t be ignored or left alone.

“Even if he is Illyrian?”

You laughed softly, a touch of amusement in your voice.

“Yes, even then.”

“They don’t care about that,” you said, your tone steady. “You’d know that if you picked up a book once in a while.”

Azriel winced at the jab, his eyes narrowing slightly. Here he thought you were finally opening up to him, but your words made it clear how you felt about him.

“Spring is inherently open,” you continued, “We accept everyone and everything. That’s why festivals like Calanmai exist and the land prospered with children, happy, healthy children. At least, before Amarantha came and your Lords, or shall I say your “brother” and his runaway whore”

Azriel’s jaw clenched, the urge to retort rising in him. He wanted to tell you that Tamlin had been warned, that he had continued despite it all, but he couldn’t. Your son was here and he shouldn’t witness his parents fighting. But god, the way your eyes burned with hatred whenever you looked at him or spoke about the Night Court, it stung.

“Daddy are you angry?”

Azriel noticed the worry in Amias’s face and immediately smiled, shaking his head. “Just tired.”

“Mama tired too,” Amias added.

You chuckled softly at his cuteness.

You felt Azriels rage just a few seconds ago, you were thankful that he was still good at lying. You only cared about your son, Azriel’s feelings couldn’t interest you in the slightest.

“Amias, full sentences, please.”

“Mama, I am tired too.”

“You wanna go sleep with Daddy?” Azriel asked gently.

Amias nodded, his tiny arms stretching out toward Azriel. In his fathers arms, he stopped you from going to the office, where you usually spent your time.

You looked at him, noticing the expectant look in his eyes. “Can you both come?”

You nodded, glancing at Azriel. “You’ve got time, or do you need to go to work?”

Azriel smirked, scaring you. “I’m on vacation.”

The surprise was evident in your eyes as Azriel caught you off guard for the first time. Before you could respond, he scooped up Amias, who giggled in delight.

“Where is your room, little prince?” Azriel asked, holding his son up in the air with a grin.

Azriel’s smile was radiant and Amias looked so happy, it made your heart swell. Even if the reason behind it all was the sperm donor, the sight of your son so content made everything feel right.

“Let’s go,” Azriel said, his voice warm as he began to walk.

⋆ ♡ ⋆

There you three laid, Amias down in the middle, nestled safely between you both.

Azriel had woken up, his internal clock honed over centuries stirring him from sleep. But as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, the sight before him felt almost unreal, like a dream he wasn’t ready to wake from.

His son was here and you. There you were, lying beside Amias, your long hair fanned out behind you, arms wrapped protectively around the small boy as he cuddled into you. It was endearing, the way you both slept so peacefully next to him.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Azriel had slept through the night, no nightmares, no restlessness, just quiet, steady breaths filling the space around him.

His eyelids grew heavy again and he let himself sink back into the warmth of the mattress. Just as he was drifting off, Amias stirred, sleepily turning toward him. Tiny hands reached for him as he snuggled into Azriel’s chest, his breath soft and steady.

Azriel let out a slow breath, wrapping an arm around his son.

And for the first time in a long, long time, he let himself rest again.

Main Taglist: @bubybubsters @lilah-asteria

Found you - Taglist: @bravo-delta-eccho @katherine-2007 @saltedcoffeescotch @the-onlyy-angie @sidthedollface2 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @asahinasstuff @azriels-human @ashjade19 @booksnwriting @starryhiraeth @anon1227 @1enas-12 @alittlelostalittlefound @queenoffeysand

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maraudersarecanon · 1 year ago

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Also because their parents are cousins

I headcanon Reg and Sirius as short because then they just get to be smol boy. They get to be held by their boyfriends and protected and loved because they sure as hell didn’t get that in their childhood. And I just giggle and kick my feet and yeah.

#noble and most ancient house of black #black family genes

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celestemona · 1 year ago

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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒

a guide to their children personalities, looks and more

characters: dad & husband! alhaitham, cyno, kaveh, kaedehara kazuha, lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley

intro: some says children are the mirrors of their parents, reflecting their images and absorbing their surroundings. perhaps this is true as your child shows so much of your husband. nevertheless, they’re their own person too, with their own personalities and likes - but never less loved for that.

cw: kids are described as toddlers and middle-childhood

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

x x x

Hakim

Birthday: May, 7th

Appearance: Hakim is the spitting image of his father, inheriting Alhaitham's jade-green eyes, gray hair, and signature stoic expression. Despite his reserved demeanor, he is a sweet and kind-hearted boy, radiating warmth through his actions rather than words.

Personality: Hakim holds a deep respect for his parents and has a noble, thoughtful nature. He is more of an observer than a conversationalist, preferring to quietly take in his surroundings—another trait he seems to have inherited from his father. He finds solace in creative outlets like drawing and enjoys flipping through picture-filled books, which has prompted you and Alhaitham to frequently indulge him with art supplies and encyclopedias. Even as he grows older, Hakim cherishes the comforting routine of bedtime stories, delighting in the moments when you or Alhaitham read to him before he falls asleep.

Nicknames: Kim (affectionately used by family and friends). Love (mostly from you). Son (Alhaitham’s proud address for him)

Trivia: He likes cats but he's allergic to them.

Aryan & Isaar

Birthday: November, 26th

Appearance: Aryan and Isaar are identical twins, so much so that even now, people often struggle to tell them apart. They are a perfect blend of their parents' features, though Cyno's genes dominate slightly. They share his deep brown skin tone and striking red-orange eyes.

Personality: While Aryan is the quieter and more reserved twin, Isaar is the more sociable and approachable one, creating a harmonious balance between the brothers. Both are respectful, kind, and honest, though not easily fooled. Aryan tends to be more judgmental; if he dislikes someone, he makes no effort to hide it, while Isaar is more diplomatic. Both brothers share a close bond with their friends Hakim and Zahra and are deeply affectionate towards you, often showing their love in small but meaningful ways. Despite their strong attachment to you, they equally enjoy spending time with Cyno, who they look up to greatly.

Aryan's nicknames: Ary (affectionate nickname used by parents and friends). Yan (used exclusively by Isaar). Son and Kid (Cyno’s typical endearments).

Isaar's nicknames: Isa (affectionate nickname used by parents and friends). Izz (used exclusively by Aryan). Son and Kid (Cyno’s typical endearments).

Trivia: Both twins dislike sweets but love sour fruits. They invented a secret language as children, which, to this day, they use to communicate discreetly around strangers. Aryan is older by exactly seven minutes, a fact Isaar good-naturedly accepts (most of the time).

Kaedehara Kazumi

Birthday: March, 3rd

Appearance: Kazumi is the mirror image of his father, Kazuha, inheriting all the samurai's distinctive features with barely a trace of your genes in his appearance. The one feature that sets him apart is the charming beauty mark beneath his left eye.

Personality: Like his father, Kazumi has a calm and easygoing demeanor, though his mischievous and slightly presumptuous streak often lands him in trouble. Despite his occasional antics, Kazumi is a loving and gentle soul who deeply values his family. He looks out for his younger siblings with care and respect and admires both you and Kazuha greatly, often seeking your guidance and wisdom.

Nicknames: Zumi (normally used by family). Son (endearingly used by Kazuha). Kazu (casual family and friends nickname). Zuzu (a playful teasing nickname from Kiyomi, especially when she wants to annoy him)

Trivia: Kazumi is ambidextrous, a skill that often surprises others and serves him well in various tasks.

Kaedehara Kiyomi

Birthday: October, 17th

Appearance: Kiyomi takes after you in most of her features, though she still carries distinct characteristics from Kazuha, including his striking crimson eyes and the signature red streak in her hair. Despite these inherited traits, Kiyomi shines as her own unique person.

Personality: Kiyomi is extroverted, charismatic, and brimming with confidence. Her mischievous side often leads to playful antics, especially with her older brother, Kazumi. However, she also has a girly streak, treasuring quality time spent with you. Smart and strong-willed, she has a sharp sense of justice and doesn’t hesitate to speak up against things she deems wrong. Her deep love for you and Kazuha is evident in everything she does, and she takes her role as an older sister seriously, especially when it comes to caring for her young brother.

Nicknames: Sweetie girl (Kazuha’s affectionate term for her). Kiki, Yomi, and Kiyo (used casually by friends and family).

Trivia: Kiyomi adores wearing dresses, kimonos, and yukatas.

Kaedehara Haruki

Birthday: September, 21st

Appearance: Haruki is a beautiful blend of both you and Kazuha. He shares his father’s pale skin tone, but his eyes gleam like precious jewels, a striking resemblance to yours. Due to being born with a frail constitution, Haruki is smaller than most children his age, which only adds to his delicate charm.

Personality: Haruki is a shy and quiet boy who prefers the comfort of home, making him especially close to you and Kazuha. Though reserved, he has a sweet and endearing side that he reveals only to his family and a select few familiar faces. Despite his quiet nature, he cherishes being included in his older siblings’ games and activities, finding joy in their lively energy.

Nicknames: Baby (your affectionate nickname for him). Buddy (used casually by Kazumi). Son/Child (endearingly from Kazuha). Haru (a common family nickname).

Trivia: Haruki is asthmatic, and his health requires extra care. He also wears eyeglasses due to his poor vision. With only 13 years, he was invited to study at Akademiya where he became an illustrious scholar in the Darshan of Haravatat.

Zahra

Birthday: August, 13th

Appearance: Zahra is the spitting image of her father, Kaveh, inheriting his blonde hair and many of his features. However, her golden-hued eyes are a striking reminder to her grandmother of her late husband. With naturally rosy, chubby cheeks, Zahra is irresistibly adorable, often drawing the attention of outsiders who can’t help but want to pinch them—much to Kaveh’s protective dismay.

Personality: Zahra is an extroverted and cheerful girl, always full of energy and charm. She has a curious and intelligent nature, preferring puzzles and building blocks. Her playful yet thoughtful personality makes her a delight to everyone around her. Zahra adores her father, Kaveh, and unsurprisingly, he is her favorite parent, though her love for you is equally strong. Despite being pampered endlessly by Kaveh and her wealthy aunt, she is a well-behaved child who rarely throws tantrums.

Nicknames: Zaza (commonly used by you and her best friends). Babygirl, Sunshine, Sweet girl, Princess (terms of endearment from Kaveh).

Trivia: Zahra is afraid of insects, especially butterflies, and will quickly hide or call for help if one comes too close.

Corinne & Quentin

Birthday: December, 30th

Appearance: Corinne and Quentin are identical twins, bearing an uncanny resemblance to you with their father's lilac, cat-shaped eyes as the only noticeable feature. However, subtle physical differences set them apart: Quentin is slightly taller, while Corinne has softer, chubbier cheeks.

Personality: Much like their father, Lyney, and aunt Lynette, the twins’ personalities contrast in complementary ways. Quentin is the friendly and talkative one, radiating charm in his own way, though he’s not as high-energy as Lyney. Corinne, on the other hand, is calm, reserved, and observant, speaking mostly in the company of those she’s close to.

Corinne's nicknames: Cori (a common nickname). Nina (used exclusively by Quentin). Dear, Sweet girl (a term of endearment from you). Doll, Princess, Lovely/Sweet girl (Lyney’s affectionate nicknames).

Quentin's nicknames: Quenn (a common nickname). Quinn (used exclusively by Corinne). Mini-me, Buddy (Lyney’s fond term for him).

Trivia: Corinne is allergic to shrimp, while Quentin despises onions. Despite their close bond, once, they had a huge fight. Quentin is five minutes older than Corinne.

Éveline

Birthday: February, 4th

Appearance: Éveline is a stunning blend of her parents, inheriting Neuvillette’s white hair, draconian blue eyes, and pointy ears, while her facial features reflect your side of the family. Her ethereal beauty is undeniable, yet her demeanor is soft and gentle.

Personality: Timid and soft-spoken, Éveline often feels shy around unfamiliar faces, instinctively seeking comfort by hiding behind you or Neuvillette. Despite her introverted nature, she shares a deep affection for the Melusines and treasures her friendship with Corinne, Cameron, and Quentin, with whom she feels at ease. Sensitive and a little emotional, Éveline knows she can always turn to you or her dad when her feelings become overwhelming. She has a special fondness for cuddling with her dad and enjoys quiet moments of connection. Over time, Éveline begins to explore the outdoors more confidently, taking delight in nature and bonding with animals during her adventures.

Nicknames: Line (a common, sweet nickname). Angel (your affectionate name for her). Sweetheart, Darling (used tenderly by Neuvillette). Eve (a casual family nickname).

Trivia: Éveline loves Mondstadt’s fresh water and insists it tastes the best. She dreams of becoming an “animal healer” when she grows up, inspired by her love for creatures big and small.

Cameron

Birthday: June, 26th

Appearance: Cameron is the spitting image of his father, Wriothesley, inheriting not only his physical traits but also many of his likes and mannerisms. Despite this resemblance, Cameron is more reserved and quiet, exuding a calm and collected demeanor. However, under your affectionate care, his shy and bashful side emerges, often accompanied by a faint blush.

Personality: Cameron is remarkably well-educated and respectful for his age, treating everyone with equal kindness, regardless of their background or past actions. His sharp intelligence shines through in his love for puzzles and creative activities. As the firstborn, Cameron had been an only child for a long time. Yet, you and Wriothesley never doubted how he would welcome a younger sibling. True to his loving nature, Cameron has embraced his role as an older brother wholeheartedly, showing incredible care and devotion to his little sister.

Nicknames: Sweetheart, Baby boy (your affectionate term). Cam (family and friends favorite). Buddy, Son (used fondly by Wriothesley). Cammy (Marie’s adorable nickname for him)

Trivia: Cameron has a fondness for tea but insists it must be sweetened with sugar and cream.

Marie

Birthday: October, 9th

Appearance: Marie is the very definition of cuteness, according to both her father and big brother. The most precious and cutest girl in the world. She resembles you more than anyone else, but her sparkling icy blue eyes are a gift from her father. Despite being small for her age, Marie is a healthy, energetic bundle of joy; her tiny stature only adds to her charm.

Personality: Innocent, sweet, and empathetic, Marie has a heart full of love for everyone around her. Her friendly nature makes her too precious for her own good, and both Wriothesley and Cameron find themselves constantly watching over her to keep her safe and sound. Though you and Wriothesley hadn’t planned on a second child, Marie came as a beautiful blessing that your family embraced wholeheartedly, filling your lives with even more joy and love.

Nicknames: Angel, Love (a tender nickname from you). Mae (mostly Cameron’s affectionate name for her). Sunshine, Sweetheart, Baby girl (often used by Wriothesley).

Trivia: Marie’s first word was “Cam,” showing the deep bond she shares with her older brother. Her favorite drink is almond milk, which she always asks for with a big smile, and she loves crabs and jellyfish.

bea's trivia: marie is entirely based on maria from anime film "Koe no Katachi", and zahra' insects' fear is based on me since i'm truly terrified of them. mainly butterflies.

a/n: since it seems i'm committed to keeping writing and giving life to this series, i'm bringing this character profile list for those who are interested in following its updates or just taking a look at it to get a broader look and having a detailed reference when you go to picture/imagine their kids. in my drafts, i've written and described them as teenagers/young adults. so if you want to know more just reach me in my askbox :)

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shiyorin · 3 months ago

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#Happy Sanguinala, time to meet the Great Angel

#Chaos Sanguinius x Female Reader

#Yep, four of them

#Warning: NSFW, rape, non-con, Chaos Sanguinius, there is a lot of sensitive content,....

Khorne Sanguinius

The Great Angel, his once-white wings now stained crimson with the blood of a thousand worlds. His noble features are still beautifully but twisted with rage, eyes glowing red with murderous intent. The Blood God's chosen champion, Khorne Sanguinius leads his Legion on a never-ending crusade of slaughter.

Gone is the compassion that once defined him. In its place, a burning thirst for violence that can never be quenched. His laughter is a terrifying sound that sends even hardened warriors fleeing in terror.

The Blood Angels, once noble defenders of humanity, are now rabid berserkers. Their gene-seed, already tainted by the Red Thirst, has been twisted further. Now, they fall into a permanent state of uncontrollable bloodlust, barely distinguishable from mindless beasts.

The chamber reeked of blood, sweat and sex, a fitting shrine to Khorne's newest champion. Sanguinius loomed over your petite form, his massive frame dwarfing yours entirely. His once-white wings, now stained crimson, twitched with barely restrained violence as he thrust savagely into your tight heat.

Your body shook with each brutal impact, tears streaming down your face from the intensity. But Sanguinius saw only beauty in your pain. He leaned down, his tongue gently lapping at the salty trails on your cheeks.

"So good." he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "You take me so well, my dearest."

The tenderness of the words contrasted sharply with the relentless pounding of his hips.

Your only response was a defiant glare, your eyes burning with a mixture of hatred and unwanted arousal. Sanguinius smiled, a touch of arrogance curling his lips. He knew you would never admit it, but your body betrayed you. The way you clenched around his massive cock, the breathless moans you tried so hard to suppress - you wanted this as much as he did.

His tongue trailed lower, tracing the delicate curve of your jaw before finding the sensitive spot just below your ear. You shivered involuntarily, and Sanguinius chuckled gently.

"That's it," he purred. "Let go. Give yourself to me."

He nipped at your earlobe, then began working his way down your neck. His lips and tongue moved with exquisite gentleness, a stark contrast to the brutal pace of his thrusts. It was as if he was trying to soothe away the pain even as he inflicted more.

Sanguinius paused at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. He laved the spot with his tongue, the sensation almost numbing. You tensed, knowing what was coming.

With a growl of pure lust, Sanguinius sank his fangs into your flesh. The coppery taste of blood flooded his mouth, and he roared in ecstasy. His hips jerked erratically as he came, pumping load after load of scalding seed deep into your womb.

The world went white around the edges as pleasure unlike anything he'd ever known coursed through him. It was better than any battle-high, more intoxicating than the sweetest victory. In that moment, Sanguinius understood why chaos held such sway over mortals and Astartes alike.

But it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

Even as the aftershocks of his orgasm still rippled through him, Sanguinius felt his cock hardening again. The blessings of Khorne and his Primarch physiology ensured he could go for hours, days even, without respite.

He pulled back slightly, admiring the livid bite mark on your neck. A possessive thrill ran through him at the sight. You were his now, marked and claimed in the most primal way possible.

Sanguinius leaned down, his tongue gently lapping at the wound. He could feel your pulse fluttering beneath his lips, the rush of blood calling to the predator within him. But he held back, content for now to simply taste and savor.

"I can give you more.” he said, your answer didn't matter, he would take what he wanted regardless.

Sanguinius began to move again, setting a pace that had you gasping and clawing at his back. Your nails dig so deep left bloody furrows in his skin, but he feels no pain, only pleasure. He reveled in it, just as Blood God had taught him to revel in all sensations.

Blood and pleasure, pain and ecstasy, it was all the same in the end.

After all, they had all the time in the world. And he had so much more love to give.

Tzeentch Sanguinius

The Ever-Changing Angel. His once-majestic form shifts constantly, his wings are now covered in dozens of ever-watching eyes. These orbs constantly swivel and blink, granting the angel omniscient awareness of his surroundings. The feathers have become iridescent, shimmering with impossible colors that hurt mortal minds to perceive.

His mind, already sharp, has expanded beyond mortal comprehension. He sees all possible futures simultaneously, playing out grand schemes that span millennia.

Sanguinius speaks in riddles and prophecies, his words carrying multiple layers of meaning. He delights in manipulating events from afar, setting up elaborate dominoes of fate that topple empires and birth new galaxies.

The Ever-Changing Angel’s wings unfurled and shimmering with impossible colors. Each feather held a lidless eye that gazed hungrily at the little mortal bent before him. Your face burned crimson, turned away in a futile attempt to hide your embarrassment from the Chaos Primarch's all-seeing gaze.

The corrupted Angel of Baal gripped your hips, his enormous hands nearly encircling your waist entirely. He pulled you back onto his monstrous cock, stretching your tight pussy to its absolute limit. You bit your lip to stifle a cry, your body trembling as it struggled to accommodate Sanguinius' inhuman size.

Sanguinius began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate. He savored the exquisite friction, reveling in your warmth and the way your inner walls clenched around him. His mind raced with possibilities, a thousand potential futures unfolding before his Warp-touched eyes.

In one, he saw you swollen with his seed, your belly distended as you prepared to birth his heir. In another, your body was remade in his image, wings sprouting from your back as you ascended. Still more visions flickered through his consciousness.

You whimpered softly as Sanguinius picked up the pace, your small frame rocking with the force of his thrusts. You felt utterly overwhelmed, filled to the brim with the Primarch's massive member. Despite your training, you found yourself lost in the maelstrom of sensations assaulting your body.

Sanguinius leaned forward, his chest pressing against your back as he enveloped you with his wings. The feathered appendages caressed your skin, each touch sending jolts of unnatural pleasure coursing through your nerves. The eyes adorning his plumage blinked and shifted, drinking in every detail of your face.

As his orgasm approached, Sanguinius' mind fixated on one particular future - you, your belly swollen with eggs, utterly dependent on him for survival. The image sent a thrill of excitement through him, and he growled low in his throat.

"Perhaps." he purred, his voice a discordant symphony of whispers "we should see how well you lay eggs."

With those words, Sanguinius hilted himself fully inside you, his seed flooding your womb as reality itself bent to his will.

Nurgle Sanguinius

The Plague Father's embrace has transformed the Great Angel. Now Sanguinius' wings drip with putrid ichor, his flesh a canvas of lesions that birth new diseases with every breath.

But in this form, the Angel has found a perverse kind of peace. He spreads Nurgle's "gifts" with the same zeal he once showed in defending the Imperium.

He sees beauty in decay, marveling at the complex ecosystem of bacteria and parasites that call his garden home. He nurtures them lovingly, crooning lullabies as he unleashes them upon unsuspecting worlds.

Pale, fungal flowers exhaled spores that danced in the air like glittering dust. The fallen Angel reclined on a bed of writhing vines, his skin now alabaster and crisscrossed with livid scars.

Underneath him lay you, your petite form dwarfed by the Primarch's massive bulk. Your belly swelled obscenely, stretched taut with the unholy life growing within. Sanguinius gazed upon you with adoration, misinterpreting your revolted expression as one of tender affection.

"My love," he crooned, voice thick with emotion. "How beautiful you are, heavy with our child."

His massive hand splayed across your distended abdomen, caressing the taut skin with surprising gentleness. Beneath his palm, something twisted and writhed, pushing against its fleshy prison. The angel smiled gently, imagining the perfect being they had created together.

You bit back a whimper of disgust as the fallen Primarch's fingers gently caressed across your skin. You remembered all too well the endless, agonizing hours of their coupling, he rutting into you with tireless stamina, his seed flooding your womb again and again until it finally took root.

Now you were trapped, your body no longer your own as it nurtured the abomination growing inside you. You longed for the sweet release of death, but knew that even that escape was denied you. Nurgle's "gifts" ensured you would endure, no matter how your body and mind might break.

Oblivious to your inner turmoil, Sanguinius continued his tender explorations. His hand drifted higher, cupping one of your swollen breasts. They had grown heavy with milk, preparing to nourish the child you carried.

"So beautiful” he murmured, kneading the soft flesh. A drop of pearlescent fluid beaded at your nipple, and Sanguinius licked his lips in anticipation. Soon, he would taste the sweet nectar of their love.

Leaning down, he took your nipple into his mouth, suckling gently. The warm milk flooded his mouth, and he groaned in ecstasy. It was sweeter than the finest ambrosia, carrying hints of the love that now coursed through your veins.

You stared blankly at the canopy of fungal growths above, desperately trying to disconnect from the sensation of his mouth on your breast. You focused on the sweet scent of decay that permeated the air, on the squelching sounds of nameless things moving through the underbrush. Anything to distract from the horror of your situation.

But there was no true escape. As Sanguinius' arousal grew, you felt the massive bulge of his cock pressing against your thigh. You knew what was coming, and a small sob escaped your lips.

The fallen Primarch misinterpreted your cry as one of desire. With aching tenderness, he positioned himself between your legs, his engorged member throbbing with anticipation.

"I love you," he whispered as he pushed inside you.

You bit your lip until you tasted blood, refusing to give voice to your pain as Sanguinius stretched you far beyond your limits. His girth was monstrous, and even after countless couplings, your body struggled to accommodate him.

The angel set a languid pace, savoring every sensation as he made love to his bride. His hands roamed over your body reverently, marveling at how small and delicate you were compared to his massive frame.

In his twisted mind, this was the ultimate expression of their love. Every thrust brought them closer to the glorious future he envisioned, a family bound by devotion and Nurgle's blessings. Their child would be perfect, a living testament to the power of their union.

The angel gathered you into his arms, cradling you against his broad chest.

"My love" he murmured, stroking your hair. "Our family will be complete soon."

Slaneesh Sanguinius

The Prince of Pleasure has molded Sanguinius into its ultimate champion. The pleasure angel is a being of otherworldly beauty and horrific excess. His wings shimmer with impossible colors, each feather a gateway to mind-shattering sensations.

Gone is the noble restraint that once defined him. Now, the angel pursues every fleeting whim and desire to its ultimate conclusion. He leads his Legion on endless crusades, leaving worlds drained of all sensation in their wake.

No longer content with mere blood, now he feast on emotions, memories, and souls, always hungry for new experiences to stave off the gnawing emptiness within.

Sanguinius' voice is a weapon in itself, capable of reducing the strongest-willed beings to quivering addicts with a single whispered promise. He revels in corrupting the pure, seeing how far he can push beings before they break.

The pleasure angel stood before the ornate mirror, admiring his transcendent form. His wings shimmered with impossible hues, each feather a gateway to mind-shattering sensations. The Primarch's perfectly sculpted body was a masterpiece of hedonistic excess, every inch designed to evoke desire.

But perfection was fleeting in the realm of the Prince of Pleasure. There was always a new threshold of beauty to cross, another exquisite sensation to explore. Sanguinius' lips curled into a smile as he contemplated his latest adornments.

With delicate precision, he slid a gleaming golden ring through his left nipple. The cool metal sent shivers of delight coursing through his body. He savored the subtle ache, knowing it would heighten every touch, every caress.

Sanguinius traced his fingers along the intricate patterns inked into his alabaster skin. The tattoos shifted and swirled, hypnotic designs that seemed to move of their own accord. They were a map of pleasure, each line and curve attuned to elicit maximum sensation.

His thoughts turned to you, his only lover, chained to his bed. You were so fierce and independent, now trembled at his merest touch. Sanguinius felt a surge of pride mixed with insatiable hunger. No matter how many times he claimed you, it was never enough.

He recalled the way you writhed beneath him, your small form struggling to accommodate his huge cock. The delicious contrast of your petite body against his towering frame never failed to arouse him. Sanguinius' member swelled at the memory, already aching to be buried in your tight heat once more.

With a thought, he summoned wisps of warp energy to caress his skin. The ethereal tendrils danced along his flesh, leaving trails of tingling pleasure in their wake. Sanguinius groaned, imagining your reaction to this new trick. Would you gasp in awe? Whimper in desperate need? The possibilities were intoxicating.

He selected a vial of shimmering oil, specially crafted to heighten sensitivity. Sanguinius poured a generous amount into his palm, then began to massage it into his chiseled abs and powerful thighs. The oil seemed to sink into his very being, setting every nerve ending aflame with exquisite sensation.

His cock throbbed insistently, demanding attention. Sanguinius wrapped his hand around the massive shaft, stroking languidly. Pre-cum beaded at the tip, and he smeared it over the head, hissing at the intensity of the feeling. He imagined your lips wrapped around him, your throat struggling to take his full length...

With effort, Sanguinius released his grip. No, he would save his release for you. The anticipation would only make it sweeter.

He adorned himself with jewelry crafted from precious metals and soul-stones. Each piece was a work of art, designed to accentuate his godlike physique. Rings glittered on his fingers, and chains draped artfully across his broad chest.

Satisfied with his preparations, Sanguinius turned toward the door that separated him from his lover. His enhanced senses could already detect your rapid heartbeat, the sweet musk of your arousal. You might pretend to resist, might curse his name even as you came undone beneath him. But Sanguinius knew the truth, you were utterly, hopelessly addicted to the pleasures only he could provide.

He pushed open the door, drinking in the sight of you bound and waiting. Today, he would introduce you to new heights of ecstasy. Today, he would make you scream his name loud enough to shake the very foundations of reality.

Sanguinius smiled, a gentle smile about to devour his lover. He loves you and it's never enough.

#shiyorin's writer #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #yandere au #chaos au #wh40crack #romantic stuff in 40k

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gallusrostromegalus · 5 months ago

Note

Just wanted to say I’m enjoying all of the world building and snippets from AEIWAM - it’s clear how much fun you’re having and how much though you put into it. I’ve started rereading bleach because of that, though I always wind up stopping after the rescue rukia arc 😅. Maybe I’ll make it past that this time.

Eh, I gave up after My Blorbo was killed off in deeply narratively unsatisfying fashion, so you're not alone. Anyway, have some More AEIWAM Worldbulding Nonsense:

---

The Kuchiki-Yamada-11th Division Fucktangle

It started with Chigiri Shijima.

The first captain of the 4th Division, part of the original Dirty Dozen Yamamoto hired off of Death Row to fight the first Quincy Invasion, was an unassuming and chronically fatigued looking woman* with a profound sense of curiosity about the limits of The Flesh:

(from Kubo's sketches of the original 13) *Chigiri might be male in canon. I don't care

She became fast friends with the young Yachiru Unohana, who shared her fascination with the limits of the flesh, though from the opposite direction. Chigiri was the first person to show Unohana how to channel her Reiatsu to prefrom Kaido, and let her sit in on /Hold people's ribcages open during /do some of the surgical cuts for Chigiri's Field Surgery sessions, much to the horror of everyone else involved.

After the War, when the Captains had to shape up from a gang of mercenaries into a real governmental organization, Chigiri met and eventually married a Similarly-Sadistically-Curious young Dentist named Fumihiro Yamada. Longtime friend and frequent visitor to the hospital Unohana attended the 100-day ceremony of their first and subsequent six children, the start of a grand tradition- Unohana, under one name or another, has been present at the Okuizome of every Yamada born for the last millennium, and delivered most of them for the last 800-odd years.

The Yamadas are one of the most prolific Shinigami families, producing more Shinigami by percentage than any other clan, and have served in all divisions of the court Guard. Eighth Division Fifth Seat Suichi Yamada is the current highest ranked Yamada, but there have been four Captains Yamada. There's also a Seated Yamada in the third divison, and another in the 12th (though there's a popular rumor that 15th Seat Tosako Yamada isn't part of the 12th so much as a Spy to keep the 4th abreast of any important developments in medical science, rather than deal with Mayuri directly).

It is little wonder then that, despite the lack of noble standing, the Yamadas are one of the most highly regarded families in the Seireitei, and even less of a wonder that, every time the gene pool starts to get a little shallow, that the Noble Houses start looking at the latest generation for potential spouses.

The Kuchiki Clan in particular has intermarried heavily with the Yamadas, to the point that Byakuya Kuchiki is actually fourth-cousins to the infamous Former Fourth Division Lieutenant and Current Head of the Private Central Medical Institute in the Noble Quarter, Seinosuke Yamada:

(Description: A cool and handsome if somewhat menacing Wizard)

...and his less-famous younger brother, current 4th Division 7th seat Hanataro Yamada.

(Description: the most bully-able looking dweeb you've ever seen)

Due to the way the Kuchikis keep marrying daughters they won't legitimize for some goddamn reason to Yamada Sons, there's an argument to be made that the Kuchiki Clan is a Branch Clan of the Yamadas...

In fact, until Rukia was adopted into the Kuchiki Clan, if something had happened to Byakuya, Seinosuke was Byakuya's closest living relative in their generation and a reasonable argument could be made that he was the Hier-Apparent.

This, of course, would not do.

The thing is, Hanataro's shy and gentle demeanor is very unusual for a Yamada. The whole clan has a reputation for being Manic Sociopaths with dubious ethics and a tendency towards sadism. They make excellently competent officers, but not exactly 'friendly', like a terrible hybrid of a Border Collie and Cane Corso. Seinosuke himself is known to take great pleasure in bringing back patients that are actively begging for death.

There is a persistent rumor that this infamous disposition is at least partially due to the influence of Captain Unohana, who has been an active member of the Yamada household for the last millennium, presumably so they're very acclimated to her nonsense by the time she starts recruiting the prize ones for the 4th. She's delivered most of them and officiated the marriages of more than a few, and given the woman's patience in cultivating the Seireitei's Most Magnificent Flower and Vegetable Garden, it's suspected she's been cultivating the Yamada line as well.

Seinosuke was her lieutenant before the current Isane Koetetsu, and the bond between them was almost legendary. They would frequently not actually bother to finish sentences around each other, or communicate entirely by gesture because they were so familiar.

---

It was little wonder then, when Seinosuke's little brother also joined the 4th Division, though it wasn't exactly happily received news. People get jealous and see favoritism where there is none- Hanataro had entered the 4th on his own merits, and actually against his brother's recommendation.

Hanataro also had the strange fortune of entering the 4th the same week as the Tragic West 66 Incident in which several captains, lieutenants and nearly all of the 9th division's seated officers were killed by the machinations of (as was believed at the time) former captains Urahara, Shihouin and the head of the Kido Corps.

Three days after that, 11th Division Captain Kenpachi Kiganjo was struck down in a duel, and infamous barbarian Kenpachi Zaraki took over the 11th.

... So the day afterwards, when the lower officer in charge of assigning jobs to trainee medics saw that apparently this Zaraki bastard needed a complete medical checkup and every vaccine ever, he thought 'Well, let's see if Little Hanataro really did get in on his own merits. He's A Yamada after all, this should be a piece of cake for him-'

-and sent first-day-on-the-job Hanataro to the famously hostile 11th Division on his own.

---

"Um, Excuse me, Mister- I mean, Captain Zaraki?" Hanataro mumbled peering in the door of the captain's room at the nest of pillows and blankets that might contain his charge.

The 11th was deserted- not really a surprise, given the heavy casualties the 11th had suffered the week before. In fact, all 20 of the surviving members of the 11th were still recovering at the 4th, and Hanataro had wandered around looking for someone for a solid half hour until a little girl with neon pink hair had playfully tackled him to the ground and then, giggling, shown him to the Captain.

"KEEEEEEN-CHAAAAAAAN!!!" Miss Yachiru shouted, leaping into the nest and tackling her adopted guardian with similar glee. "Re-Chan sent one of her guys here for something!"

There was a low rattling noise of irritation that reminded Hanataro eerily of the family's temperamental rooster, but much, much larger. The nest of fabric shifted, arching up into an alarmingly tall shape, Yachiru balancing on top and scolding it for sleeping in so late, he's probably very busy-

A lithe but powerful arm longer than Hanataro was tall suddenly lurched out from the nest and slammed on the floor in front of where he was sitting, swinging the entire torso of 11th division captain Kenpachi Zaraki around and bringing Hanataro eye-to-fearsome-yellow-eye with the giant.

"...the fuck're you?" Zaraki grunted, blinking slowly at Hanataro, not entirely awake yet.

"I- I- I'm-" Hanataro sputtered, struggling to introduce himself when he noticed something peculiar- an extra bit of translucent flesh behind Zaraki's eyelids, sliding sideways across his eye to behind his tear duct- "- I'm sorry, do you have Nictitating Membranes??" Hanataro gaped.

Zaraki glared blankly at him for a moment, before breaking into a slow grin and, very slowly closed the pearly membrane over his eye and opened it again to Hanataro's slack-jawed astonishment.

"WHAT THE FUCK THAT'S SO COOL I'VE NEVER EVEN HEARD OF HUMANS HAVING THOSE DO YOU KNOW IF IT'S GENETIC OR-" Hanataro yelped with excitement, jumping to his feet and grabbing the captain's head and staring at his eye, nose pressed to Zaraki's cheekbone for a moment before abruptly remembering where he was and letting go, dropping into a bow hard enough to audibly bonk his head on the floor. "I'msosorrysirpleaseforgivemeidon'twanttodie-"

He was interrupted by Zaraki's loud cackle of amusement and the sensation of being lifted. Zaraki was sitting- well, had extracted his gangly limbs from his nest and arranged them into a pile mostly in contact with the floor- and picked up Hanataro by the collar of his Shihakusho and set him back up on his feet. His cackle trailed off into amused clicking and he sat back, regarding the tiny medic with a peculiar sense of favor.

"Good catch Mr. Sorry." he teased, Yachiru climbing onto his right shoulder. "Dunno who my father was, but my Mom an' Sisters 're Eagles and they got 'em too."

"...Eagles?" Hanataro blinked, cocking his head sideways with confusion. "Like. Birds?"

"Kami, technically, but yeh." Zaraki shrugged, rolling his neck and stretching, still waking up. "So who're you or am I gonna be calling you Mr. Sorry forever?"

"Ohhh... That- well that doesn't exactly explain things but I think I get how- uh, sorry, I'm- I'm not sorry, I'm Hanataro Yamada from the 4th Division!" He yelped, staggering back on topic. "Captain Unohana said you needed an intake medical exam and vaccinations?"

"Yeah probably." Zaraki shugged, scratching at his neck. "Yachiru too- Tired to get as many of 'em in her as I could afford but you know how it is out in the sticks."

"Hm." Nodded Hanataro, who did not. "Um, well- If you wanted to get started, we might be able to finish up before lunch, you must be busy with a whole division to put back together-"

"Yyyyy... -nah." Zaraki yawned. "Stayed up all last night writin' letters to fill it back up and posted 'em early. No rush until I get summat back."

"Which is probably good- I don't think you've EVER gotten a shot, have you Ken-chan?" Yachiru asked, kicking her feet in the air behind his shoulder.

"...Oh." Hanataro mumbled.

"...Has anyone seen Yamada?" Yamada the elder enquired after Yamada the Younger, the late afternoon sun casting golden beams through the windows onto the dispatch desk of the 4th.

The incessant chatter of the nurses, medics, janitorial staff and the dispatch officer came to a sudden and extremely suspicious halt.

"It's just that he promised to meet me at the end of his shift so we could walk home together, and it's not like him to be late." Seinosuke spoke lightly, eyes casually panning over the remarkably guilty-looking faces around him.

"He- he's not back yet?" dispatch officer Hiyako Gendo gulped, eyes suddenly fixed on the clock. "I sent him out like five hours ago..."

"Sent him where?" Seinosuke asked pleasantly and the medics collectively flinched.

"Uh, to the- um-" Officer Gendo sputtered, color draining from his face.

"You haven't misplaced my brother, have you?" Seinosuke smiled with gentle menace.

"No!" Gendo yelped. "I- uh- well- the new captain needed an intake exam-!"

"...Which new captain?" Seinosuke spoke softly, looming over to the dispatch counter. "We have promoted an unprecedented SEVEN new captains this week and I would not want to waste time searching nearly two-thirds of the court guard."

"Eight, actually." one of the nurses squeaked, and Seinosuke's head swiveled to face her like an owl. "Eep! We- um, there's a new captain of the 11th division as of last night, Sir." she stammered.

Seinosuke turned back to the dispatch officer, staring down at him with the burning eyes of a wrathful god.

"Hiyako." he spoke gently, putting a hand on the dispatch officer's shoulder. "We're friends, aren't we?"

"Y- yes? Sir?" Hiyako Gendo gulped.

"Good, good- So you wouldn't do something like, I don't know, send my baby brother into the division with a history of such violent enemity with that only combat certified officers are cleared to enter it?" Seinosuke asked fingers over the pressure points of Gendo's shoulder.

"Um." Gulped Gendo.

"-Perhaps you sent him with a senior officer?" Seinosuke tried. "I can understand wanting to give him an impression of how dangerous this work can be on his first day, to make sure he really does have the guts for the 4th, but that should be done in a fashion where he is only an observer to the example of an experienced officer and not, say, totally alone without telling anyone to go check on him?"

"Well-" Gendo whimpered.

"-Because, Hiyako, and I need to emphasize this-" Seinosuke continued, fingertips digging into Gendo's shoulder. "-That there is no body in the morgue right now, because during his promotion to the office yesterday, the current Captain-Kenpachi bisected a significant amount of the sewer and municipal support systems 200 feet below the 11th whilst rendering the previous Captain-Kenpachi into a fine red paste in a single strike!"

Gendo made a strangled noise of pain.

"So please tell me that my sweet, gentle little brother with the constitution of a bowl of oatmeal is literally anywhere besides the vicinity of that monster, preferably in the company of someone with at least half a functioning braincell?" Seinosuke pleaded, leaning in close and steadily increasing the terrible pressure of his grip.

"ISentHimThereAloneOverFiveHoursAgo!" Gendo shrieked, finally flinching and grabbing at his shoulder.

Seinosuke froze, save to let go of Gendo and let him collapse out of his chair, howling in pain. Slowly, he stood up, pleasantly blank smile on his face, and turned to leave the division.

"Someone please inform Captain Unohana that I have deployed to the 11th to retrieve my brother and if there is so much as a HAIR out of place on him, Zaraki will be the shortest-serving captain in history!" He called out, re-tying his Zanpakuto on his belt before vanishing in a burst of Shun-po.

"-Was that you, Seinosuke?" Unohana called from her office down the hall.

"-Well, most venom isn't a single chemical but dozens, if not hundreds of compounds with complex interactions so any samples have to be refined down to the individual components and tested both singularly and with the others which can take ages but it's yielded some incredibly effective drugs so far!" Hanatarou babbled excitedly, drawing a grid on Zaraki's thigh, oblivious to Yachiru putting his hair in pigtails.

"My goodness! We certainly have come a long way from using bee stings on arthritis!" Yumichika laughed. Zaraki's self-appointed third seat lounged against the wall near the door, enthralled by the process. His mothers had been something between field medics and hedge witches out in the far western districts and was keeping pace with Hanataro's enthusiastic infodumping about venomics while he prepared the captain for the next round of vaccinations.

"Not that far- your beestings were one of the earliest things we tested for pharmaceutical application, and it turned out that the entire combination of bioreactive compounds in the amounts found in an individual sting was the most effective dosage! More sanitary to use a needle than an actual bee though. Speaking of-" Hanataro turned to Zaraki. "Are you sure you want to do ALL of these today? Unless you're planning on messing around in the sewers, your chances of catching any of these are extremely low, so we can stagger them."

"If I'm gonna feel like crap tomorrow anyway, might as well feel like crap once and be able to fuck around in the sewers if needed." Zaraki shrugged. "-Why are the doctors in charge of that anyway? You've got better shit to do?"

"Ah, well-" Hanataro sighed, capping the marker and getting the next round of vaccines in order. "-Civic maintenance *used* to be part of the security duties of the 11th but... well, after we lost Kenpachi Tokagero down there, your predecessors... never resumed their duties? So it's kind of fallen to us since, but to be honest, the previous guy wasn't exactly someone I'd trust to maintain the necessary standards..."

"Yeah, no shit." Scoffed newly-appointed lieutenant Ikkaku, who was attempting to sort through the literal heap of paperwork Kiganjo had thrown into the corner instead of filling out.

"No I think the shit is supposed to be in the sewers." Zaraki grinned and Ikkaku responded with a single-finger salute.

"Right- lets try to not bend any more needles, okay?" Hanataro smiled, preparing the first syringe.

"Yeah, yeah-" Zaraki rolled his eyes, but obediently inhaled and exhaled, focusing on the square Hanataro was touching. Reiatsu manipulation didn't come naturally to him and it had taken a couple dozen broken needles to work out a technique that allowed Hanataro to actually stick him.

Hanataro focused, feeling the pressure drop with the hand on Zaraki's thigh, focusing his own energy into the tip of the needle with the other, until the difference flipped and-

"Ssk!"" Zaraki hissed a bit as Hanatarou slammed the needle into his leg with the force of a sword strike, but that's what it took. "Yer gettin better- that one stung a bit!"

"Sorry!" Hanataro squeaked, withdrawing the intact needle and changing it over to the next syringe.

"Keep at it and you might be able to really hurt me in fifty years!" Zaraki laughed, ruffling his hair.

"Okay, next is for Orange Fever- this one is famous for burning after injection but we'll see-" Hanataro started then looked up at the feeling of someone's absolutely furious reiatsu approaching at speed.

"Someone coming? You all put yer heads up like bird dogs." Zaraki chuffed.

"I think someone's come to-" Yumichika started but the door beside him slammed open and they were all greeted with the terrible sight of the most feared man in the fourth, wild-eyed and teeth bared, utterly consumed with rage-

"Hi Seinosuke!" beamed Hanataro, entirely used to what his brother looked like after a long day at work or being woken up suddenly. "What are you doing here?"

"Hanataro?" Seinosuke yelped, startled by the entirely peaceful and almost domestic scene before him. Zaraki seemed to be politely interested in the vaccination process, the menace that had been at the lieutenants meeting yesterday was sitting in the middle of the 11th's paperwork with a senbei cracker hanging out of his mouth, and Hanataro was getting pink bows tied into his hair by Miss Kusajishi. The remains of afternoon tea were on the table behind him.

"That's him! Who are you?" a third, effeminate man asked from beside the door with a faint prickle of reiatsu, politely reminding Seinosuke to mind his manners in someone else's house.

"This is my older brother Seinosuke!" Hanataro cheerfully explained, reflexively capping the syringe he was holding. "Not that I'm not glad to see you but- OH NO IT'S ALMOST DINNERTIME!"

"It's fine, it's fine." Seinosuke wheezed with relief. "It's my obligation as the oldest to be a worrywart."

"Tch- No point in worrying for this one." Zaraki teased, poking Hanataro in the shoulder. "-We should all be worried about him! He's only gone and stabbed me thirty-two times and I haven't landed even one blow on him!"

"Sir..." Hanataro groaned at the joke.

"Thirty-two?" Seinosuke blinked.

"Could only afford shots fer the kid, so I need all of 'em." Zaraki shrugged. "Not that I was makin' it easy for 'im."

"Um, yeah..." Hanataro hummed. "There's some technique for giving someone with extreme positive spiritual pressure shots that I don't know, right?"

"You? Ask them to lower it?" Seinosuke stared, beginning to wilt as the adrenaline drained out of him.

"Yeah, I... kinda suck at that." Zaraki grunted, looking away from them, right eye shut despite the left one being scarred. "Might as well keep Stabbin'?"

"What's with your eye?" Seinosuke frowned, veteran of spotting unspoken injuries.

"Oh yeah! Check them out- He's got Nictitaing Membranes!" Hanataro beamed.

"He WHAT?" ---

Four hours after that, the Yamada brothers set out for home, Seinosuke with the beginnings of a fascinating new study on Kami-Induced Occular Mutations and Hanataro with a promotion to 'pocket medic' that he wouldn't find out about until Zaraki abducted him from his rounds for 11th division boot camp some four months later.

--- (Tumblr says this is getting too long and is glitching, More about Byakuya and Seinosuke's Marital Conspiracies later)

#AEIWAM #An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy #Bleach #Bleach fanfic #hanataro yamada #Seinosuke Yamada #byakuya kuchiki #kenpachi zaraki #yachiru unohana #retsu unohana #The Kuchiki-Yamada-11th Div Drama is one of the longest running and funniest soap operas in the Gotei-13

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