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izubabes · 2 years

Note

Hey hope you’re eating and drinking enough water. I wanna request a Izana, Kakucho, Hamna, Ran, and Rindou (Tenjiku time) meeting their future kids. Thank you, hope you have a nice week and pass your exams.

ᴍᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ꜰᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴋɪᴅꜱ

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚, 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮, 𝐑𝐚𝐧, 𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨, 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐦𝐚

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐲, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟? (𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤?)

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝: 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐢𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭… 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐤𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞!

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬! 𝐈 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭, 𝐈 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!

ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ 𝐀𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐃-𝟏𝟗.

Part 2

𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚

Someone’s watching us.

“Hey.” You glanced up at your preoccupied boyfriend as he stared down the empty hallway of your apartment building. It would be lying to say you hadn't felt someone's gaze on you two all evening, especially when Izana had taken you out to dinner earlier. “Is something wrong?”

Izana shook his head in response, softly caressing your cheek as a tight-lipped smile replaced his concerned expression. He would never voice his restless thoughts in fear of making you worry; it was his duty to keep you safe at all costs. “Nothing at all, sweetheart. It’s late, get some sleep.”

Uneasiness crept up your spine at the way he dodged your question, never dropping the tension lingering in his brow. A crack of thunder could be heard approaching in the distance, signaling the impending storm would be rolling in sometime during the night in which Izana would not be present. “Do you want to stay over? It's going to rain soon.”

“Tomorrow, pretty girl.” Izana replied, placing a chaste peck on your forehead. His heart ached at the sight of your teary eyes, wanting him to change his decision and indulge your needy request. “Cheer up. I have early morning plans with Kakucho, don’t wanna wake you. I promise to spoil you all day tomorrow.”

The unsettling prick of surveillance cuts through the atmosphere once again and this time Izana cannot brush it off. The looming threat needed to be neutralized as soon as possible. He nearly walked off without saying a word until he felt your warm embrace latching onto his turned back, grounding him back to reality.

“I love you, Izana.” You whispered, hugging him one last time before entering your apartment and bidding him goodnight. Those affectionate words always caused his heartbeat to quicken and spasm no matter how many times you’ve exchanged them over the past couple of months.

“I know.”

Icy droplets littered the isolated streets, pounding against the concrete as Izana's footsteps echoed through the alleyway. He had noticed the second set of steps following close behind as soon as he had he left your apartment complex. They matched his pace, direction and rhythm, it was eerie how within the next minute, they went silent.

Serves them right, I really did not want to kill anyone tonight.

Tenjiku's homebase was abandoned for the evening as the meeting to discuss the upcoming battle with Toman would not be until tomorrow morning. Izana relaxed at the feeling of being alone for once, despite how much he had grown to hate loneliness as a child, it brought comfort when he needed it the most. The empire he had strived to build was right before him, subordinates ready to carry out his orders left and right and impenetrable team of ruthless fighters eager to defend the King's will.

Izana's pleasant daydream was cut short with a sharp impact coming in from his side. He managed to block the blow with his forearm, sending a defensive kick towards the attacker who easily dodged the incoming assault.

“You’re a real bastard for leaving Mom all by herself,” The intruder muttered, cradling his aching fist as he backed away from his overpowered victim. The malice in his voice increased as he spoke once again, this time bringing someone else into the conversation. “She hates thunderstorms especially when she’s alone.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Izana fired back, walking towards his target. “How the hell did you get here? Answer me before I beat the shit out of you.”

A carbon copy of Izana, practically identical with a few distinct features, the familiarity bothered him, it was as if he had recognized the boy’s face from long ago. “I’m your son, dumbass.”

Izana scoffed, pushing him against the wall as he wrapped a deadly hand around the boy's throat, squeezing down on his windpipe as a sadistic grin ran across his features. “That’s impossible, I don’t have any kids. Not any to be as old as you are.”

“S-She named me after you," The mysterious boy choked out, gripping at Izana's arm, too weak to fight back and free himself. “My name... is Ren Kurokawa!” He continued, narrowing his pale violet irises at Izana. They're devoid of life, instead a cloud of poison reflects from those beautiful irises, shaking Izana to his core. Such a hateful expression should never be seen in a child’s eyes. “I’m 15, born in the year 2XXX. Y/N L/N is my mother. You, Izana Kurokawa, are my father.”

“That’s my earring, where did you get it?” Izana questioned, freeing Ren and reaching out to examine the cherished accessory before his hand was violently slapped away.

“M-Mom gave me this earring,” Ren coughed, struggling to regulate his breathing after nearly suffocating at his father's murderous hands. “It’s important to her. She made me promise to keep it safe.”

Izana finds himself falling in love with you even more, infatuated with the fact you will both eventually share a child together. He's done it. He's found his family. He has created his perfect future.

“I want to show you something, come with me.” Izana ordered, dragging Ren along the endless space of his kingdom. It was comforting to know he could have someone follow in his footsteps, carry on his legacy, to continue his life’a mission if he were ever

“What is this place?”

Izana's eyes shined with pride, arms extending high and wide to present the fruits of his hard work. “One of Tenjiku’s hideouts. Our main base of operations, if you will."

"This is where the Tokyo Manji Gang will face Tenjiku..." Ren concluded, stumbling upon the realization of what past timeline he stumbled into.

“A war is going to break out soon, Ren. It’s a predetermined victory. This battle’s victory belongs to Tenjiku. Toman will be crushed, and Mikey will fall. I will end everything here. Unlike the people in my life, I promised Y/N I would come back to her after this, we're going to build a golden future together."

"Will you though?" Ren sighed at the determination present on his father's face, knowing there was nothing in the world he could say to stop his plans. The future is predetermined, trying to fix it would risk changing the timeline he originated from. "You should call off the fight... people are going to die. Are you okay with that?"

Izana turned to face Ren, a bittersweet grin illuminating his manic eyes as he patted the boy on the head. A sickening chill ran up Ren’s spine at the way Izana presented himself with such unwavering pride and strength. "I will trample over anyone threatens to ruin my success. One day, this will be yours, Ren."

The scattered pieces finally come together, the reason why Izana is not present in any of your future pictures dated after this specific conflict. He was a destined casualty, fated to be killed by one of his own comrades. Izana was unknowingly walking into his own deathtrap. The endless lectures he received from you suddenly made sense, discouraging him from engaging in gang related activity or delinquent behavior.

"Ren, please stop looking for trouble. As your mother, I hate cleaning up your wounds when you come home. You act just like your father when he was your age."

“Don't compare me to that bastard. How can you still love the man that left you all alone, Mom? I would never forgive him.”

“One day you’ll understand, Ren.” You sigh, wiping away the dirt and dried blood from your son's bruised cheek as he awaits your harsh scolding. Instead, he comes face to face with a longing smile on your visage, a line of tears skimming along your lash line. “Izana's love is always around me; I can feel it every time I wake up and every time I go to sleep. Your father left a part of himself behind, something for me to nurture and grow with.”

“How so?” Ren scoffs, wincing as you patch up up his torn up knuckles.

A cloud of gloominess occupies the space in your glimmering irises, the curve of your smile falters as you reaffirm your own thoughts. “I have you! My precious baby boy, I promise your Dad loves you. He would’ve done anything to be here with us… he wanted to be with us.”

Kakucho enters the living room, noting the tension between mother and son and the wavering tone in your voice. “W-Would you mind finishing up for me? I need to get started on dinner.”

Ren knows he’s hurt your feelings, it was apparent with the way you avoided his piercing gaze, for if you stared into them too long, Izana’s face would manifest right before you. The tears would begin to flow once again and he would be faced with having to help his mother cope with her grief again.

The pair sits in silence, not a single word being exchanged until the older man speaks up. "People followed Izana because they respected him not because they feared him.”

Ren let out a dry laugh, disregarding the curious glance his uncle spares him. “Respect, my ass. He was a selfish bastard who never made it home to his so called ‘love-of-his-life’, leaving her to mourn his death in solitude.”

“Your father made me promise to watch over your mother, Ren.” Kakucho replies, continuing the cleanup as the child passively listened to his voice. “When I found out Y/N was expecting you, my priority became raising you to be the man Izana would have wanted you to be.”

Ren shakes his head in disbelief, unable to believe his father could have made such a selfless decision considering how manic he was. “You always defend him, Uncle Kaku. I have a right to be upset, you know! He made Mom carry a crippling burden all on her own. I hate that man, if I were to ever meet him… I’d punch him straight in the face.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Ren.” Kakucho warns, tightening the bandage on the adolescent’s hand. A sympathetic expression washes over his face as he heads towards the kitchen, signaling Ren to follow. “You never know if it’ll come true.”

Ren turned his attention back to the conversation, coming to terms with the fact this would soon become a distant memory. A form of necessary closure, an opportunity to speak with the man he once presumed to hate and now came to admire, just a bit. “My time is up, Izana."

"Y/N and I..." Izana whispered, a tinge of anxiety lacing his words as he presented his question. "Are we still in love in the future? Am I making her happy?"

Ren nodded, his voice softening as he “You’re gonna love each other until the day you die.”

"Right..." Izana paused, a soft smile dances on the curve of his lips. Somehow the answer is reassuring yet comes as a subtle warning of sorts. His heart weighs heavy in his chest as if to advise that no more information should be discovered. “Maybe I don’t need to know any more than that.”

“I wish I could say the same, Dad.” Your son returned the gesture, biting back the tears forming in his orchid eyes as he waved goodbye to the man he would never reunite with. The man who was responsible for his existence, the man who laid down his life to keep his beloved

"One more thing!" Ren shouted as he began to disappear, running towards Izana's outstretched hand. Their hands meet for a moment before brushing through the air like strands of wind being carried along in the breeze.

"Don't trust Kisaki and Hanma... please."

𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮

“Daddy’s here!”

Two minutes ago, Rindou Haitani was sure as hell he had no children of his own. Right now, he’s questioning his entire existence and decisions made up until this point in time. Especially when there’s a tiny preschooler latching onto him in hysterics and claiming him as his father.

“Hey, who let this little brat in here!?” Rindou screeched as he motioned to the child clinging to his boot, shaking him back and forth in an effort to get rid of him. Another Tenjiku subordinate attempted to remove the boy from Rindou’s leg but was met with a fierce bite on the hand.

Children are terrifying.

The child pawed at his uniform, making little grabby hands towards Rindou in an attempt to climb up his leg. "Daddy, play with Hikaru. "

Rindou was confused, terrified and downright nauseous at the way the child clung to him. He’s not fond of kids, he's not the fatherly type, he's not even in a relationship. "Do I look like your Daddy, you brat!?"

"You are my Daddy." Hikaru answered brightly, pointing to his hair and his uniform. He stared up at the younger Haitani as if he were in the presence of a celebrity, giggling and squealing as he elaborated on the statement. “Mama said Daddy used to have cotton candy hair and that he was in a super scary gang!"

Unfortunately, the boy was right about both of those things. Except who the fuck knows so much about his personal life?

Rindou pushed the child away, backing up to create distance between the two of them. He shuddered at the idea of having a child, especially now considering how needy and grubby they are. The more he observed the little monster, the more he realized there was a close resemblance. “I ain’t your dad, kid. Shoo, shoo!”

Hikaru fell onto his back, pouting at Rindou's harsh words as incoming tears welled up in his violet hues before bursting into loud sobs. He curled himself up into a tiny ball, glancing in between the crowd for some comfort as his cries intensified. "Mama! I want my Mama!"

"No, no, no. Don't cry!" Rindou huffed, caving in and picking up the bratty child, lightly patting his back in order to soothe his temper tantrum. If this is what parenting is like, Rindou is holding off from having his kids anytime soon. “Ugh, fuck... Who’s your mom, kid?”

“Mama’s name is Y/N...” Hikaru sniffled, a light trail of snot now coating Rindou's uniform, much to his growing disgust. A fiery arrow of shock pierced Rindou's mind, his thoughts were scattered, palms sweaty as he struggled to form words. The pounding his chest was beginning to become overwhelming as he processed the weight behind the child's words. "I want Mama. Where's Mama?"

This is Y/N's brat. This is my brat. This is our brat? Holy fuck, we have a brat. This is a joke; this has to be some sick ass joke Ran must have planned.

“Rindou!" Ran shouted in the background, approaching the chaotic scene unfolding before him as he glanced between Hikaru and his presumed father. “I have a nephew and you never told me? I’m so hurt.”

The younger Haitani scoffed at his brother’s words ignoring the fake tears littering Ran’s cheeks as he started playing with the boy. “I do not have a kid, Ran!”

Ran pointed at Hikaru in disbelief before covering the little one’s ears and raising his voice once again. “Rindou, he’s literally the spitting image of you as a kid. I see some of Y/N’s features in there too. You two make adorable children.”

Rindou sighed, the rosy tint on his face burning brighter than the sun. The farthest boundary Rindou has crossed was holding your hand, as friends. He still struggled with finding a perfect opportunity to properly ask you out. "Y/N and I are not together. I haven’t even touched her like that. She’s my best friend.”

Ran smirked, a teasing glint illuminating his devious expression. “Still haven’t made a move, Rindou? Better hurry before I drop by and whisk her away.”

Hikaru now tugged on Ran’s jacket, turning his attention to the older Haitani as he reached out for him. His cute lavender irises matched the pouty expression on his sweet little face. “Uncle Ran, carry Hikaru! Carry Hikaru, please!”

Rindou’s heart churned in delight at how easily Ran accepted the child’s demands. He was always the best older brother when they were growing up, patient, strong, and gentle.

Most of the time…

Ran gushed as the child played with his braids, wincing as soon as he tugged on them with a brutal force. “Aw... He’s just like you, Rindou. You always wanted to be carried as a kid. How old are you, little guy?"

His nephew held up his hand, signaling the age he "Hikaru is five, gonna be six soon!"

The lingering Tenjiku members fought back snickers at the soft aura radiating from the Haitani brothers. The duo who was supposed to be known for ruining lives and murdering a notorious gang leader in their youth was playing house with a random little boy.

Rindou narrowed his eyes at the group, pointing Ran's baton at them as he threatened them with an incoming punishment. “Next person who laughs is getting their joints realigned, motherfuckers!"

The watch on Hikaru's tiny wrist beeped as if to warn the child that his time was up. "Hikaru has to go... Bye-bye Daddy! Bye-Bye Uncle Ran!"

Just like that, Hikaru was gone. Back to his own timeline.

"What the actual fuck just happened?"

Ran chuckled, elbowing his younger brother and handing him his cellphone, conveniently opened on your contact profile. "I think we just met your future son. I'd say this is perfect time to confess, hm?"

Rindou’s romantic feelings towards you are a well-kept secret, mostly well-kept considering Ran is the only person aware of the situation. His shaky breaths echoed over the phone as he waited for you to answer on the other end of the line, relaxing once he heard your sleepy voice ask if he was okay. “Y/N, it’s Rindou. I know it’s late, sorry. Can I come over? I need to tell you something… it’s important.”

𝐑𝐚𝐧

“Papa! Oh my god, I found you."

Ran Haitani is not an oblivious fool, he was aware he was being followed all throughout the day, by a young girl, nonetheless. What reasoning was is unknown, what her idenity a

"You're not very smart." Ran toyed with his braids, an amused chuckle escaping his chest as he watched the madness unfold. “You can’t just waltz in here without expecting a fight, little lady.”

The teenage girl scoffed, stepping forward a few feet as she argued in her defense. Her face flared up with a scarlet hue, a mix of fury and humilation lacing her voice as she spoke. “It’s Momo! Your daughter, the light of your life, your little girl?”

Rindou chuckled, whistling over his Tenjiku subordinates and pointing in the direction of the intruder. The men obediently followed their superior's orders, stalking towards the source of their troubles. “She’s fuckin’ insane, bro. Get her, boys."

“I’m not crazy, let go of me!”

Ran hummed, amused with what he was hearing and deciding to indulge her claims. “Prove it, sweetheart. Any potential daughter of mine should know how to fight, yeah?”

“Mom was right about you two being complete idiots!” Momo huffed, kicking and biting at her captors before pulling a baton out of her left boot. The first round of opponents stepped forward, believing a quick ambush would be enough to stop a girl her size, it would be an easy victory.

Or so they thought.

Ran and Rindou watched in disbelief as she took them down with ease, weaving her way through her attackers with an elegance they had never witnessed before. She knew how to subdue multiple targets, locking the joints of her opponents and breaking their limbs within seconds, a technique which Rindou was famously recognized for.

Momo stomped towards the brothers, gracefully swinging the weapon at the Tenjiku members who dared to lunge at her. Her fighting style definitely mirrored Ran's own defensive stance, the fire blazing in her lilac irises reflected pure malice. “Want me to prove myself, Papa? Uncle Rin-Rin has two moles and a scar on his left buttcheek that literally makes a smiley face.”

Rindou’s fiery temper flared up at the statement, glaring menacingly at his older brother, the only one who knew about his most initiate secrets. “How the fuck does she know that!?”

A sadistic grin illuminated her features, similar to her father's when he knows he's won the fight. “Papa, you have Mom’s initials tattooed in between your ring finger! She has yours on her wrist.”

Ran walked into the ongoing feud, too intrigued to have the bloodshed continue any longer. His subordinates parted like the sea, clearing a path between the eldest Haitani and the intruder. "Stand down, gentlemen. I'm gonna have a chat with the girly."

It was true, Ran did have your initials inked in between his digits as well. Rindou’s butt did in fact have a smiley face on it. She could fight on her own as well as they could, even mixing their distinct fighting styles into her own original form. Could this girl be what they call a time traveler?

Momo sighed, pulling a cellphone out of her pocket and handing it over to Ran’s curious hand. “Here. Check my phone, there’s tons of pictures of us in there.”

“Uh… Are you serious?” Ran asked, suspiciously inspecting the device as if it were a bomb. He opened the photos app, paneling through his daughter’s selfies until he came across a family photo. “Holy fuck, that’s Y/N! My girl and I are still going strong, Rin.”

“Ew…” Rindou shuddered, glancing between his brother and his newfound niece. Her appearance was pure Haitani genetics mixed perfectly with your own features, a lovely combination of both of her attractive parents. “Never figured you’d have a kid, big bro. She got Y/N's pretty face, though.”

“This is why Uncle Rin-Rin is still single.” Momo clicked her tongue in distaste at the comment, ignoring the way Rindou flicked her off at her remark. “Shallow as ever.”

"My wifey is going to be the hottest MILF out there," Ran boasted, swiping through the pictures on the device before showing Rindou an image of an older woman, you, on her wedding day with Ran.

An irritated voice cut in, impatiently tapping her foot on the ground as the beeping on her watch warned of her time limit. She pointed her baton at the pair, motioning for them to hand over the phone. “Do you believe me now? I’m your daughter, Momo Haitani. Sixteen, blood type O, Gemini.”

Ran gazed over at his daughter, accepting the claim she had made earlier as the truth. It was interesting, to say the least, to meet his future child despite how annoying she may be. “You’re a Haitani, little lady. Tell me, where exactly did you come from?”

“Long story, not enough time.” Momo answered before jumping and hugging Ran and Rindou as she began to return to her own timeline. The brothers were stunned at the way she slowly faded away, a knowing smirk highlighting her features. “It was nice to meet you in your delinquent days, Papa! I just don’t understand how Mom fell for you in that tacky outfit.”

Ran frowned at the comment, offended that his own daughter would insult him. “Excuse me…? You’re grounded, little lady.”

Momo smirked, shrugging her shoulders and sticking her tongue out in response"I look forward to my punishment in sixteen years, Papa. Take care!"

Rindou snorted at his brother's statement, gagging at how fatherly he had grown in the last fifteen minutes. “Bro, you scolded her just like a parent.”

“Might as well start practicing, hm?”

𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨

"Let me get this straight... I'm your father?"

The child before him nodded her head at the statement, giddiness radiating from her tiny body as Kakucho offered her an anxious smile in return. "Yes, but in a really, really, really long time. It's nice to meet you, Daddy."

Kakucho's day was going relatively fine until he was approached by the young girl standing before him on his way to your house. He was roped into an intense conversation with the child regarding his personal information before being accused of being her father. "Okay, this is some kind of joke, right? Let's go find your parents, yeah?"

Kakucho offered her his hand in an attempt to walk her to the nearest police station, conveniently located in the direction of your neighborhood which was his intended destination in the first place. "What's your name, little one?"

“Arisa, Arisa Hitto! I'm seven years old. Is that your Tenjiku uniform, Daddy? Mommy tells me bedtime stories about Tenjiku's kingdom, she’s the princess and Daddy is the handsome prince that saves her! I'm the magical fairy who helps Daddy with his mission.”

No doubt about it, this was his daughter. She's practically his twin in terms of appearance, minus the scar. However, the timeframe does not make one ounce of sense. Kakucho's had his share of flings but not any long enough to conceive a child around Arisa's age.

He's relieved that whoever his future spouse is lied about the real origins behind Tenjiku's reality, turning it into a fairytale of sorts.

“Mommy?” Kakucho questioned, curious to know what his future wife is like. Currently, there are no women on Kakucho's mind nor has he dated anyone recently. "Arisa, can you tell me... What is she like?"

Arisa's pupils increased in size, practically consuming the whites of her eyes as she began to gush about her mother. Her short arms flailed with every description she gave, becoming more and more excited with each sentence that escaped her lips. Arisa's dynamic nature reminded him of a certain someone, but he had yet to figure out exactly who he was thinking of.

"Oh gosh! Mommy is the prettiest lady in the world... I want to be a beautiful lady like her when I'm older. She cooks tasty meals, tucks me in and gives me lots and lots of kisses. She gives Daddy kisses too, don't be jealous, okay? OH! She really, really, really loves karaoke and coffee jelly; we go every Friday after you come home from work."

"Is that so?" He chuckled, giving her hand a little squeeze in affirmation.

"Uh-huh!" Arisa beamed, continuing her endless rambles as Kakucho listened on. "She loves to tell me bedtime stories. Mommy said she liked Daddy for a long time before he noticed.”

A secret admirer? There's no way. Kakucho's dating life is practically non-existent considering Tenjiku and Izana are his current priority. However, a tiny shred of hope lingered in his soul regarding his one-sided crush towards one gorgeous girl: you.

His best friend, the woman of his dreams, the only other person he would be willing to lay down his soul for, the girl who keeps him awake at night. Maybe one day he would confess his feelings properly instead of sending mixed signals and teetering on the blurred lines of friend or lover.

Kakucho found himself in front of your house instead of the police station.

"Hey there!" As if on cue, you approached the pair, the small child immediately catching your attention as you greeted her politely. Arisa's calmness flew out the window as soon as she locked eyes with you, begging to be played with and indulged. You obediently picked her up and swung her around at her request. “Kakucho, who’s this? She’s so adorable, you never told me you had a little sister!”

Kakucho has no family, a fact he has yet to share with you, but that would be a tale for another time. Right now, he's preoccupied with watching the current interaction take place. He tried to fumble for an explanation that would sound somewhat believable without turning him into a potential creep. “She’s not. I don’t know..."

The child beat him to it, noting the chaotic way her future father tangled up his words. Her quick thinking was definitely something she must have inherited from you. “I got lost, Mister Kakucho helped me find my way back to my house. My name is Arisa. What's yours, pretty lady?"

The compliment had you flustered beyond belief, Kakucho admired the way you squealed at the little one's words, a tiny grin dancing across his lips. "Oh my gosh, you're the cutest little girl ever! My name is Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you. Do you want a treat?"

Kakucho found himself outside the nearby convenience store with Arisa as they waited for you to return with the treats you promised to buy, claiming it would only be a five-minute wait.

“Mommy’s so pretty,” Arisa sighed, a dreamy expression fluttering across her innocent face.

“Yes, she is…” Kakucho blurted out, backtracking as soon as he realized exactly what the hell she just said. “Huh?! Y/N’s your mother!?”

Arisa laughed at the panicked expression consuming Kakucho's composure. Children never understand the weight behind their actions, of course. "Why are you acting shy. Daddy? You and Mommy kiss all the time. It's yucky!"

Kakucho covered his face with his hand, hiding the scarlet red flush blooming across his skin. He fanned himself repeatedly as he saw your figure approaching the register, signaling you would be coming out soon. "Hush, Arisa. She'll hear you."

"You like Mommy, right Daddy?"

Kakucho held back the urge to deny his feelings, attempting to convince himself that you would never reciprocate. There was no way you could love a damaged man like him, nor bear his child in the future. The friendship you shared was intimate, yes. However, you never expressed any sort of romantic attraction towards him, right?

'Mommy said she liked Daddy for a long time before he noticed.'

Arisa reached out and grasped Kakucho's hands, staring deep into his soul as her face turned serious. She was wise beyond her years, a trait she must have picked up from him. “You should tell Mommy you like her. She taught me it’s not okay to keep secrets from people you love. Promise to tell her, 'kay?”

In the blink of an eye, Arisa disappeared from existence, presumably back to the proper future she came from. Kakucho was too stunned to speak, still questioning if he was living in reality instead of being indulged in a mind-boggling dream. Today's events have been a whirlwind of emotions and something he would likely never recover from.

"I'm back and I bought coffee jelly!" You cheered, holding up a tiny grocery bag full of goodies from the convenience store. He watched as you scanned the area, clearly in search of the tiny companion accompanying him earlier. "Kaku, where's the little one?"

"She went home," Kakucho lied, hoping you would believe another fabricated story instead of prying any further. The bummed expression on his face tugged at his heartstrings, soon replaced with a more delighed one as he shyly extended his hand out to you. "Do you want to have a movie night?"

"Yes! I missed hanging out with my bestie!" You gently laced your fingers with his, crossing another line Kakucho was overjoyed to be experiencing with you. "Arisa was super sweet... Maybe we'll run into her again sometime soon."

"I'm sure we will."

𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐦𝐚

"I need to grab something from the store really quick. Want anything, Shuji?"

Hanma parked the roaring motorcycle, allowing you to slide off the seat as he turned to face you. He lit the last cigarette left in his coat pocket, gingerly blowing some of the foul smoke into your face much to your disgust. "Some more cigs, baby. I'm starting to get jittery over here."

"Those things are going to kill you one day,” You said, flicking his forehead at the way he rolled his eyes at your remark. He always loved the way you showed your concern through physical touch, no matter how much of an annoyance it could be. “Wait for me, okay?”

Tokyo's streets are full of all types of people: students, salarymen, parents, teachers. Everyone is hustling to catch the train, beat traffic, commute to work or school, rushing to catch up with the quickening pace of their lives. As mundane as it is, there's a pleasant aura that surrounds these kinds of individuals who carelessly go on about their days, without a care in the world for people other than themselves. Their choices carry little to no impact on the way society functions, instead becoming part of the crowd of the ones who reap its everlasting benefits.

Gang members and fugitives are not granted a normal life.

Dating a delinquent such as Shuji Hanma means you have to be quick on your feet, an incredible, a loyal partner and a passionate lover. Finding him close to death in a backway alley after work nearly nine months ago was the start of your budding relationship. A chaotic one, yes, but there was real love brewing within the confines of each other's unconventional hearts and souls.

Hanma views the world through a grey scale lens, finding no meaning to life since death was always a looming afterthought in the back of his mind. He regrets dragging you into his growing mess, knowing you could be imprisoned for harboring a fugitive. He knows this journey will ruin you, poison you, corrupt you but it's a fact you immediately accepted upon embarking in unfamiliar territory with him.

The unsettling tinge of an existential crisis looms over his shoulders, nipping at the confines of his cluttered mind. “Am I going to continue this dull life every day until the day I die?”

A slight tug on his pants brings his attention back to the present, coming in contact with a pair of golden gilded eyes. A young girl, presumably around the age of seven, stared up at him with such a perfect example of pure adoration in her innocent orbs that it nearly made him sick. “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”

Hanma shook off the child, patting her tiny little hand with a gentleness normally reserved for you. He may not be fond of small humans, but he knows how to handle them in certain dosages. “I’m definitely not your dad, sweetheart.”

The girl only giggled in response, climbing onto his motorcycle before he could protest and strapping on the spare helmet. “Daddy, stop being silly. I wanna go for a ride.”

Hanma blinked, removing the stray kid from his bike as he peered down at her curious expression. She felt comfortable enough to touch a stranger's belongings, seriously? Whoever is raising her is doing a shit job of parenting. “Right… You lost or something, pipsqueak?”

Before the child could answer, she jumped off the motorbike and rushed towards your approaching figure. “Mama!”

Being addressed like that definitely caught you by surprise especially when a small pair of arms wrapped around your legs. You glanced at your delinquent boyfriend and the child next to him, seemingly putting the pieces together. Hanma could see the vein on your forehead start to pulse, signaling your pissed off temper. “Shuji, whose child did you kidnap for this prank? Take her back, now.”

Hanma sighed, a bit of disappointment tracing across his face as he gave you a pout. “Have some faith in me, dollface. I would never do anything heinous like that. I'm just as confused as you are."

Says the wanted man who is on the run for murder.

You crouched down to the child's height and offered her a kind smile in contrast to Hanma's deranged one. “Honey, do you know this man? Did he say anything weird to you? I can help find your parents or take you to a police box.”

The young girl tilted her head in response, brows furrowed together while trying to understand the hesitation alluding from your nervous expression. “Mama, it’s just Daddy! Why are you acting weird? It's me, Reika.”

"M-Mama?" You stammered, a light chuckle of anxiety escaping from your lips. It was too early in the day to play along with whatever elaborate scheme your boyfriend had come up with. "Okay, sweet girl. I think you have us confused for someone else."

Reika stomped her tiny foot on the ground in protest, declaring once again that Shuji and you are her parents, she is a time leaper and she wanted to come meet the younger version of them. Hanma merely nodded along, being the most composed one out of the trio as you attempted to process whose actual child this was because there was no way in hell time leaping is real.

"Look here!" She exclaimed, pointing at the chain secured around her neck latched around a gold locket. Inside the jewelry was a picture of Hanma and you, older but still recognizable, cuddling the child standing before you.

The proof was authentic, Reika was a living being, she is your time leaping daughter.

Hanma was the first to speak, picking up the child and swinging her around in pure glee, much to your surprise. The shit-eating grin on his face only grew wider as you became flustered at the mischievous expression on his face. “Holy shit, you really are our brat! Mama and I did a great fuckin' job, huh? ♡”

You were quick to silence your silence your boyfriend out of embarrassment and the fact he was defiling the child's innocent mind with his foul mouth. “Shuji! Cover her ears if you're going to be acting like a degenerate.”

“Sorry baby,” Hanma apologized, pecking your cheek as a form of a quick apology. Reika gagged at the affection being shared between her caregivers, still in the age of thinking boy carry cooties and are disgusting. “Well, we’re your parents, pipsqueak. What do ya think of your Mama and Daddy?"

"So cool!" Reika grinned, placing a tiny peck on each of your cheeks before waving goodbye and slowly fading away. Hanma ruffled her hair as she pouted about his future self continuing the annoying habit. “I really wanted to meet you two! I have to go now; my time is up.”

An agonizing groan erupted from your throat as you clung to your boyfriend in support. The encounter had your mind running in circles over the fact you just experienced of one the universe's most insane adventures. “What just happened? Did we really just meet our future daughter? Oh god, I have a headache, I need a nap.”

"Relax, babe. I'll take care of you." Hanma’s inked hands looped around your waist, pawing at the plush skin of your hips. His hot breath fanned the sensitive shell of your ear as he spoke, a sultry tone coating his next words. “Wanna go home and get a head start on the baby? ♡”

“Shuji!”

Turns out Hanma’s life wouldn’t be so dull after all.

(っ◔◡◔)っ Reblogs are appreciated! Thank you for the love and support! ♡

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valdomarx · 9 months

Text

"It's easy!" Crowley waves a nonchalant hand. "Humans are simple creatures. All it takes for the blossoming of romantic love is a bit of rain and an awning."

"And that..." Aziraphale looks at him sceptically, "works, does it?"

Crowley puffs up, a little offended on behalf of his thorough understanding of human psychology. "Of course it does. I'm the expert in temptation, aren't I? Here, watch."

He grabs Aziraphale's wrist (warm. and soft.) and tugs him out of the bookshop and into the street.

"Ordinary day, right? Sunshine, blue skies, blah blah blah. All very nice, yes, but no atmosphere. No," he pauses meaningfully, "va voom."

Aziraphale merely raises an eyebrow.

"But with a little work," Crowley snaps his fingers decisively, and thunder booms. Deep grey clouds pile high in the sky, rushing in towards them and gaining momentum as they do. He turns to Aziraphale with a grin as lightning forks overhead, illuminating the sky in bright flashes. Aziraphale returns an indulgent smile, and the air is thick and heavy between them.

It starts as a soft pat. pat pat. and then builds to a pat pat pat patpatpatpatpat as the heavens open and rain cascades down on their little street, fat drops bouncing off tables and cars and the pavement. Within seconds the rain crescendos into a torrential downpour, soaking them both. Aziraphale's fluffy hair is flattened, sticking to his forehead as the humans around them squeal and duck for cover.

"And now," Crowley holds out one hand with an ostentatious curtsy, "we shelter."

Aziraphale takes his hand with a roll of his eyes, and Crowley steps neatly under a shop awning which is miraculously free of any members of the public. He doesn't let go of Aziraphale's hand, the incoming rain forcing them to stand just a few inches apart. The storm rages above, the smell of rain on concrete surrounding them like a bubble.

"And what do we do next?" Aziraphale asks. Crowley is close enough to catch the way his tongue darts out to wet his lower lip.

"We. Umm." Crowley is having some difficulty in focusing. He's very warm, despite the chill and the wet, something blazing hot and ashy pulsating in his chest. "Traditionally, we look into each other's eyes."

He considers whether he should facilitate that by taking off his sunglasses, but Aziraphale has never had any trouble reading him with them on. And anyway, his hand won't stop shaking.

He takes a step closer instead, squeezing Aziraphale's hand and dropping some of the practised hardness from his face. He feels, abruptly, extremely exposed as Aziraphale regards him studiously.

Time seems to freeze in place, though whether that's a miraculous phenomenon or merely an effect of proximity, Crowley couldn't say.

"Oh," Aziraphale breathes.

Crowley ought to say something. Something clever and irreverent. There had been some point he had been trying to prove, hadn't there? It's quite flown his mind.

Instead, he finds himself leaning in to brush a lock of soggy hair off Azirpahale's forehead.

"Well." There are spots of blush on Aziraphale's cheeks. "I can certainly see this seems to be. Erm. Surprisingly effective."

Every idea and plan and argument has deserted Crowley's mind, replaced by an enormous blooming sensation he doesn't want to examine too closely. Aziraphale's face is soft and sweet and very close.

"And now?" Aziraphale asks, voice quiet and barely audible over the crashing of rain and thunder.

"I. Uhh." There's something he's supposed to do. There's something he's supposed to do. It's important, it's pressing, it's urgent.

But not one single thought remains in Crowley's head as he gestures vaguely and tries, "Va voom?"

#s2 has me fed soooooo good i'm living #ineffable husbands #good omens #my writing #good omens spoilers

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months

Text

I've been dreaming of the Seeker of Cradles.

He swore to protect them. His children, his princess, his country.

Lives are precious, and he will not see them snuffed out prematurely.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

Lilia acts before he can think.

He pays no mind to the audible gasps of the senators, to Baul’s worried pleading. The only voice he listens to is the one that draws him like a moth to a glowing flame.

It’s a shrill cry, the sound any infant makes. But the sob is filled with an overwhelming sadness, a deep desire that resonates with him. Lonely, longing for love.

It breaks his heart, makes him tear up.

“Wait for me!" he shouts. "I’m coming to you right now...!”

He thunders up the steps of Cradle Tower, bracing himself against the lightning hurtling his way. His hood is thrown off, hair whipping, slapping him in the face and standing on end. Lilia fears no man--but in the presence of such sheer, raw power, he's compelled to cower.

He soldiers through, forcing himself up another step. Right as his foot connects, a wild bolt comes down hard, striking him.

Lilia lets out a guttural cry, his small body keeling over. Every fiber of his being screeches in pain.

"Vanrouge-dono...!!"

He stays stationary for one long, awful moment. Then--a sharp intake of breath--and he miraculously rises on trembling legs.

"H-Hah..." he grits out, clutching onto himself. "Is that... Is that all you've got?! It'll take a lot more than THAT to take me out. Your mother has made me deal with tantrums far worse than this!!"

Lilia resumes the arduous climb. More lightning is lobbed at him. Wincing, he wills his aching muscles to weave as best he can around the incoming attacks.

He's nearing the top of the stairwell now, where the power is most concentrated and the wind howls like a banshee. Lilia raises his voice, calling over the storm.

"Are you upset because no one's paying attention to you? Well, you're wrong!! Everyone... Everyone is terribly worried about you!!

"You're such a spoiled child, rejecting your grandmother's magic. Do you know what will happen to you if you don't take it?! You'll die. You'll DIE, and all the people who sacrificed themselves so you could live was for nothing. You don't have the luxury of choice!! You MUST live!!"

The future depends on you.

He doesn't know if the unborn child can understand him or not. It must, to some extent, because the screaming in his head escalates to a frenzied pitch. A strong gale nearly knocks Lilia off the tower--he grasps onto a column and inches closer to its treasure.

The dark, speckled egg floating inside of a barrier.

"You stubborn thing!! Lilia scolds, pushing against the magical shield. His palms burn, as if coated with acid. "If you still refuse... then take me instead of Maleficia...!! I'll give you everything."

He pushes, the barrier holding firm. Pain climbs up his forearms, eating him alive from the inside out. He feels his energy being leeched, his flesh screaming, on fire, as it is sucked out.

"My love..."

The barrier shudders, shakes.

"My magic..."

His biceps are searing, his blood, molten.

"My life...!!"

A crack.

"Accept it all, Malleus...!!"

It breaks.

Lilia falls through, arms extended toward the egg. He entraps it, hugging it tightly against his chest. It’s warm. Malleus is warm, and Lilia can feel a faint flutter of a heart on his skin. Contentedness floods him, even as he feels the pull of magic as it is drained and hungrily devoured.

The egg gives off a green glow from within. The light grows brighter and brighter, until—

“Kyuuuuuuuuuuu!”

Suddenly, an explosion of blinding white. The shell splinters and sheds.

There is no egg in Lilia’s arms, but a lizard with raven scales and a violet underbelly and spines. It blinks up at the general through round, reptilian eyes, belching a line of emerald fire.

“A-Ah… You are…” Lilia’s knees go weak. He falls to the ground, still cradling the baby to him. “Malleus…! You’re here at long last. I… I-I…”

He doesn’t realize it, but he has started to cry uncontrollably. Fat tears dribble down his cheeks and land on the baby dragon’s hide.

Lilia allows himself to wail. It’s ugly, full of raw emotion. Less human and more like the cry of a hideous beast.

From below, cheers and praise float up to him.

“Our hero!”

“Congratulations, Vanrouge!”

“The prince owes his life to you.”

Their words sting his head. The world wavers, wildly distorting--Lilia can't tell if it's his tears blurring his vision or not.

He crumples over with a groan. "M-My head... Agggh!"

"Kyuuuu?" Malleus pads a claw onto his cheek, confused.

The senator's voices are growing louder, angrier.

"VANROUUUUUGE!!"

"What has he done?! This is going to be a scandal--a scandal, do you hear me?!"

"Oh, to think that a disgusting bat has tainted the noble Draconia bloodline...!"

The contradictory shouts mix. It feels like there are fists beating his skull in from both sides. Lilia hangs his head, pulls at his hair, tries to understand the clashing sounds.

That's when he senses the presence of a shadow standing over him.

"I’ve found you at last, Lilia.”

He slowly raises his eyes, careful to keep Malleus guarded with his arms. There is a man in black robes towering over him, his mouth fixed in a frown. A pair of horns protrudes from his head, crowning his ominous yet regal aura.

“What… Who are you?!” Lilia demands of the stranger. “That face, those horns…!”

They're just like Levan and Meleanor's.

The stranger ignores his question. His expression has morphed from displeasure to anger. "Insolent fools!! How dare they speak ill of you. There will be severe consequences for this.”

The air stirs, chilling. Thunder crashes in the distance, seemingly in response to his fury.

He regards Lilia again, his voice dropping to a dangerously dulcet coo. “Ah, but you needn't concern yourself with them."

He takes a stride forward, and Lilia shrinks away. "S-Stay back! I'm warning you...!"

"What sort of a dream would you like to have this time, hmm?" he asks nonchalantly. "A dream in which mother and father are still by your side? A dream where you can live freely with your children? A dream for you to find true love? Just say the word, and it is yours."

With each suggestion, Lilia backs up further and further--until he is nearly at the platform's edge. Wind blows from below, sending hair and fabric flapping.

Here is the devil, come to tempt, and the jaws of death behind him.

The stranger bends down, his smile serpentine and eyes iridescent, twisted with obsession. Charming as a snake. He extends an arm, palm open. "Come, Lilia. Take my hand."

“FATHER!!”

CLANG!

A bolt of silver arrives, expertly blocking Malleus's outstretched hand. He stumbles back, glaring at the two bodies that put themselves between him and Lilia.

“You are…”

“Are you alright?” The quiet question comes from a boy with aurora eyes—clear as a cloudless sky.

Silver.

“Lilia-sama, stand back!!” His partner, Sebek, barks, baton at the ready. “We will protect you!”

“What nuisances,” Malleus snarls. “Still you insist on disrupting these dreams? It is a hopeless endeavor.”

“Maybe it is.” Silver tightens his hold on his own baton. Resolution threads his voice, and he stands his ground against the encroaching monster. “But we will never stop trying until we’ve broken through your blessing.”

“Bless... ing?”

The single word is like magic. One droplet rippling in a pond, setting off a chain reaction.

Memories fire off—the departure, the packing, the party, well wishes, the thorns. Someone screams, jet black tears streaming down their face. The wrath, the hurt.

“I DON’T WANT TO LOSE YOU!!”

The fog lifts from Lilia’s head, and the world clears. The identity of the horned stranger, the same as the baby dragon he holds.

Malleus… It’s you. It was always you.

Lilia gives a shaky laugh. "This is no blessing, boys. It's a curse."

Malleus glowers. “… You’ve awakened, haven’t you?!”

“That’s right. It seems I was dreaming for quite some time too—but I’m alright now, thanks to Silver and Sebek~”

“Father…”

“Lilia-sama!!”

“You too then… You’ve decided to turn traitor on me.” He hisses it, loathes the taste of treachery.

“No, Malleus.”

“Kyuuuuuu?”

Lilia steps beside his students—a general joining his knights. Ruby meets emerald, glittering with defiance.

“We’re going to save you, simple as that 🎵”

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quizzicalwriter · 5 months

Note

anything that involves cuddling/sfw sleeping with Dallas? maybe the reader is a bit clingy and shy 😻

Storms

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Thunderstorms had always been a safe haven for Dallas, now he’s finally able to share one with you.

Warnings: None! ‘cept for some kissing.

A/N: Thank you for the request!

Word Count: 1.8k

Thunder shook the walls, ringing through your ears with the ferocity of a passing train. Each flinch earned you a gentle hush from Dallas, a kiss behind your ear, or a squeeze of his arms.

You’d never been one for violent storms. Calm storms you could handle, you loved the gentle lull of rain, the whisper of passing wind as it carried leaves off into a nearby neighborhood. But this? This was much different than what you’d grown accustomed to.

The radio had buzzed off a selection of warnings, interrupting your preferred music station in favor of warning people of the incoming wall of rain, as if you couldn’t see it by simply looking outdoors or sticking your hand out a nearby window for half a second.

Dallas, however, loved it.

It was something you hadn’t expected, but you weren’t surprised by either, given that he’d grown up in New York and had seen his fair share of hurricanes before he’d retreated to Oklahoma. He whispered tales of his youth against the shell of your ear, stories on how the rain had rattled the thin glass of his bedroom windows as a child, how he’d watch with childlike wonder as lightning illuminated the sky.

Dallas’s arms held you snugly by your middle, fingers fumbling with the soft fabric of your shirt as the rain pattered against the windowpane adjacent to his bed. Whenever lightning would crack across the midnight sky, he’d begin counting.

“One-“ He whispered, fingers drifting along your forearm. “Two-“

Before he reached three, thunder sounded through the air, the vibration felt deep within your chest. You could feel the rumble of his laughter against your back as he pressed kisses along the curve of your neck, his hold tightening as your worried eyes gazed out into the black ink of the night.

“Y’know why I count?” He asked. When you shook your head he hummed, adjusting himself to be closer to you as he threaded his fingers with yours, giving your palm a gentle squeeze. “Lets you know how far away the storm is.”

You didn’t know enough about the topic to dispute his words, nor did you want to. His voice had a calming nature to it, the deep vibrato resonating in your ribs, soothing your ever-beating heart into a calm rhythm. So you hummed back, tilting your head back slowly to push yourself closer to him, a move he accepted with a hushed ‘awe’.

“Poor thing.” He whispered, despite the caring nature he’d laced in his words, you could hear the smile tugging at the syllables, threatening to spill into a chuckle at your fear of the storm. “I’m here, doll. Storm can’t come inside.”

You laughed at that, turning halfway to look up at him. He smiled down at you, unlacing one of his hands from yours to cup your cheek, thumb brushing against the swell of your cheekbone.

“I know it can’t come inside.” You responded through your soft laughter. “Still, it’s loud. Loud noises scare me.”

He clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth, eyes never leaving yours as you gazed up at him. If you’d been anyone else, anyone at all, he would’ve laughed. But you looked pitiful, fearful in his hold as each rumble from the sky filled the silence.

“I know.” He murmured, brushing your hair back from your face as he spoke. “Want to know something?”

You nodded, lips quirking up into a smile as he gently pushed your cheek, forcing your attention back toward the window. His fingers continued brushing through your hair, nails gently scratching your scalp.

“Listen.”

You could hear it, the sound of wildlife, the branches of faraway trees cracking in the wind, the leaves tapping against the siding of the house. Crickets chirped, cicadas hummed, birds called from their well-protected nests. It all melded together, swirling into a makeshift melody, a lullaby.

“Nice, isn’t it?” He asked.

“Yeah,” You replied. “It is.”

You both stayed like that, curled underneath thin bedsheets, legs intertwined, sharing whispered words as the storm raged on overhead. He watched over your shoulder, eyes filled with the same childlike wonder that’d filled his mind in his youth as the sky came alive with brilliant flickers of light.

His adoration for the storm, the rain, the lightning, all of it - it soothed you. You felt at home in his grasp, heartbeats synchronized. Your foot brushed against his lower leg and down to his ankle, repeating the movement every few seconds as you twirled his ring against his finger.

Eventually, the storm passed, the only remnant of the chaos being the near-silent droplets of rainwater as it cascaded down from the roof, dripping down the windowpane in neat patterns. The moon shone through the clouds, peeking in through the raindrops, painting you both in a pale, patterned hue.

His hand cupped your jaw, turning your attention back to him. You gave him a tired smile as you situated yourself on your back, watching through half-lidded eyes as he propped himself up against his left arm.

“What?” You whispered, smiling through the word as his eyes danced over your face.

“Nothing.” He replied, although you knew what lingered beneath the words. Dallas was a man of few words, preferring to show how he felt through actions rather than relying on his mind to thread together a coherent sentence when all he wanted was to show you his love through stolen glances and kisses behind abandoned buildings.

“Sure.” You chuckled, lifting your hand to brush back his unruly hair, having been messed about from lying in one spot for too long. Yet even with sleep-tossed hair, he still looked gorgeous beneath the pale moonlight. You leaned up onto your elbows, hand drifting down to his jaw, fingers brushing against the muscle as you pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was sweet, his lips moving slowly against yours as his hand moved to cup the back of your head, fingers entangling themselves in your hair. He made no move to maneuver himself atop of you, content with leaving the moment as it was without pushing it any farther.

His lips trailed from yours, delicate kisses placed against the bridge of your nose, then to the space between your eyebrows, as if he intended to map out your face with his lips. You giggled, eyes squinting shut with a smile so bright it caused his heart to skip a beat within his chest.

Dallas would be damned before he’d let anyone see him as you saw him in that moment; vulnerable, in love. Love was a dangerous thing, something that terrified him in the expanse of the night. Having you beneath him, beside him, eyes watching him with the same sense of longing he’d felt buried deep in his chest until he’d met you, you made the fear tolerable, worth it. You’d made every environment feel like home. No matter the place, the position - his heartbeat would match yours.

So for those nights, mornings, days - whenever the two of you had a moment of reprieve that wasn’t filled with bounds of chaos or company, he’d show you the parts of himself that terrified him, the vulnerability and urge to love something, protect something - you.

“You’re thinking too hard.” You hushed out, snapping him from the depth of his daydream as he looked down at you, thumb brushing against your temple.

“I was.” He replied, a soft laugh following the words. “Does that scare you? Me thinking?”

You snorted at his teasing words, shaking your head as you brushed your fingers through his hair.

“Doesn’t worry me.” You murmured. “Or scare me. Although I’m more used to Pony or Johnny going quiet when they think, not you.”

He couldn’t argue with your logic, he was known for speaking his mind at the worst of times, often causing trouble for himself when he couldn’t reel in his tongue. He hummed as he leaned down to press another kiss to your forehead.

“Just thinkin’ about you, doll. That’s all.”

His words intrigued you, eyebrows lifting at the thought of you occupying space in his mind, the sight leaving Dallas groaning, knowing he’d sunk himself into a hole he’d have to talk his way out of. You loved hearing what he thought about you, just as much as he loved hearing what you thought about him, even if he’d never admit it.

“Fine-“ He grunted, relenting with a roll of his eyes as he moved to sit up. You followed suit, folding your legs underneath yourself, resting your chin against your open palm, elbow propped up against your knee. Dallas smiled at the sight, your genuine curiosity about what went through his mind never failed to amaze him.

“I just-“ He started, clearing his throat with a subtle lift of his chin, eyes moving from yours. “I trust you, guess it confuses me or somethin’.”

“How so?”

“Well, it wasn’t- it wasn’t wise when I was growin’ up. Trustin’ somebody could get you hurt, you had to look out for yourself.” He replied, shifting himself to face you. “Took me long enough to trust the guys, and with you, it came naturally. Quickly. I never understood it, I still don’t sometimes.”

You smiled, the sight tugging at his heart just as it had earlier, along with all the times prior. He loved that you understood him, he never had to over-explain himself, what he did, why he did it, you simply understood. You knew about his past, as much as he’d been willing to tell you, anyhow. Some of the stories haunted you, the thought of him so young, so alone, it hurt your chest in a way you couldn’t put into words; and yet there he was, bold, brash, heavily sarcastic - alive.

“I’m glad you trust me.” You murmured through a smile, knee brushing against his as your hands fumbled with the outer trim of the shirt you wore, a shirt you’d so diligently stolen the moment you’d gotten into his apartment earlier on in the day. “I know it takes a lot.”

“Yeah,” he yawned out, stretching his arms over himself before wrapping them around your middle. The movement had been quick enough to startle a laugh out of you, but you made no move to stop him as he pulled you back down against the mattress, his legs immediately intertwining with yours.

You knew him well enough to know that was his way of ending a conversation kindly, not wanting to pry a subject to bits if he could help it. So your curiosity relented, satisfied with his expression of trust in you. You’d felt the same thing when you’d first met him, but you’d save that conversation for another time.

“Storm’s passed.” He mumbled, words nearly incomprehensible as he buried his face into the nape of your neck, his fingers threading with yours. “Ain’t scared anymore, are you?”

“With you?” You asked. “Never.”

A/N: I hope you guys like this one! It’s shorter than usual, but I loved writing it! Honestly, I love small moments shared between characters, hidden away from others. Lets you see their true character and I’m HERE for it. Anyhow, thank you all so much for the continuous love and support you show me and my work! I appreciate y’all so much! As always, you can find my work over on my AO3 under the username, “Unscriptural.”

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bamsara · 2 years

Note

“It’s gonna rain. We won’t make it in time.” Thinking of the dudes getting caught in the rain 👀 (From twitch stream) :>

Sun x Reader | Wordcount: 1,150 | AO3 Version

CW for slight suggestive joke at the end.

Since their...seperation, from the pizzaplex, the Daycare Attendant has been a mixture of feelings towards the outside world.

They weren't alien to it, really. It's hard not to know about the outside world when the entire world's internet was inside your head and you had more memory, no matter how damaged it might be, bigger than what would constitute a human brain anyway. The Daycare Attendant is well aware of the outside world, customs and social rules, places and so on.

Expereinceing these things first hand, however, is a completley different matter entirely.

You have been out doing errands for hours longer than you should. The reason: you brought the Daycare Attendant along with you, and Sun is nothing but enthusiastic to interact with every single living being he saw, human or otherwise, which led to some really awkward conversations with humans surprised to see an animatronic act so openly, and the servant robots stare at their robot brethern that seemed to be walking around with much more freedom than they had yet.

"Sun, come on!" You're grabbing his wrist, pulling him away from the pet store window (he lets you, of course. You wouldn't be able to otherwise, but he still makes a pitiful noise as he's torn away from kittens and puppies) and steer him towards the bus stop. "It's the last run, we're going to miss it if we don't hurry!"

"Do you think it's good idea to take the bus again?" He asks. "Got quite a lot of stares on there, very rude! I don't think the bus is very nice."

You shoot him a look over your shoulder. "Wasn't that your idea? We took the bus because you don't like riding in the car."

"I still don't like the car."

"Then we take the bus!

"We've decided we don't like the bus either!"

Your hand has fallen from his wrist, but you don't worry about him fallen behind as you walk briskly; his legs were longer, took wide strides, and he's gotten into the habit of hooking fingers into the cease of your hoodie so he doesn't loose you.

You briefly joked before that it reminded you of how children hold guiding hands. Sun replied by saying it's more along the lines of keeping a dog on a leash.

Thunder rumbles a bit above you. The clouds are starting to close in. You didn't bring an umbrella, but at least you wore layers today. "Well, the bus is what's gonna keep us out of the rain. I don't feel like walking home all soaked."

"Aw, really?" Sun's voice is teasing. He doesn't appear bothered, or surprised by the sound of an incoming storm. He hasn't since that day on the balcony of your apartment. "I could act as an awning, if you like!"

To emphsize his point, he cranes over you, arms extended and faceplant pointed downwards with a playful style like it was him and him alone that could protect you from the rain soon to come. A few droplets land on your shoulder, one of his sunrays and drips back down to your nose. "Stop stalling!"

"Just a jest!" He laughs, and allows himself to be pulled along further down the street, narrowly avoiding a wide-eyed couple. "We both have hoodies! Shoes! Smiles! A little rain never hurt anyone!"

You scoff at him, walking at a pace thats just barely under a run. "And what are you going to do if the sky gets too cloudy that the sun can't be seen?"

Sun's chuckle sounds from behind you. "Then you are definatly not taking the bus, even if you catch it. Wouldn't allow it. Don't worry, you'll still have an escort home."

.....Of course. You glance at your phone, squinting at the time as a raindrop plops on the screen. "It's gonna rain. We're not gonna make it in time."

Sun hums. "I can see that."

Before you can process what he means, you're yanked back to a halt. He stopped allowing you to pull him, which means the momentum yanks you back the moment he stills, and you lift your head to question his stalling when Sun, smiling as ever, lifts a finger and points it to the street. You follow his gaze.

The bus-your bus, judging by the number printed on the side-is turning down the street, past the point where the bus stop would have been around the corner with windows full of people who were sitting dry and calmly out of the incoming downpour.

As if on cue, water droplets fall on your face, then more, until the space around you is in a steady, solid rainfall.

You visably deflate. "Great. We missed it."

Sun's hands are extended out, water running off his fingers and faceplate. "And it's not too cloudy too! What a delight!"

You deadpan. "Sunny..."

"Yes, yes...." A low chuckle, a metal hand coming around the back of your neck and pulling the hood of your jacket over your head, and around your shoulders so you're pressed against the animatronic's side. "Best we start walking very quickly, hmm? Don't want you catching cold."

"Too late." You whine, as annoynaly as you can make it. "Gonna get so sick I'm gonna be sneezing wads all week."

"Oh, sick? That means I can make you soup! I have a few new recipes I'd like to try."

"You don't need an excuse to make soup."

"No, but I do like to have an excuse to feed it to you."

You walk in pace with him, hands curled into your pockets and clothing pushed all the way up so no water slides down your clothes. Sun is the opposite. He doesn't even try to pull the hood up, not like it would have fit around his sunrays either, but walks rather chipper than what you'd expect a Daytime robot in the rain.

He's clearly enjoying the turn of events. Your lips press together in a thin line. Happy for him, it's nice to see him in a good mood. You're just a little bitter about being rained on it as well though. "If you wanted the same expereince, you could have just stood underneath the shower at home."

Sun laughs lightly. Finger tips dance on your arm, his grip pulling you closer. "I don't think this is quite the same as that! Unless, darling, you'd like to join me in there."

You whistle. "Walked into that one, didn't I?"

He nods, and steers you out of the way of a puddle. "Afraid so."

The walk is ten minutes, tops, to the apartment complex. But it's double that time because Sun likes to walk slow, and he makes it up for you later when you're peeling off all the soaked layers at the door and he's gathering something warm for you to replace it with.

#Solar Lunacy #Drabbles #writings #fnaf sb #sun x reader #self insert

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binniebakery · 3 months

Text

Thornless Rose (2/3)

♡ Prince!Yeonjun x Princess!Fem!Reader, strangers (one sided enemies??) to lovers, fluff (slightly suggestive at some points teehee)

♡ Summary: marrying oranada's "evil" prince was not on your bingo card for the year but hey we thug it out (im not good at summaries) ♡ Warnings: arranged marriage, mentions of minor character deaths, mentions of attempted assassination (i swear the fic is just a lil bit of angst, pure fluff), yeonjun is also the cutest thing alive, yeonjun is a tease

♡ A/N: i know im late for today as its already valentines for me but i literally spent all day being busy!! i promise i will upload the final part later <3 once again ty for reading and enjoy! lmk if theres anything i should change/work on! ♡ Read: 1/3 here! 3/3 here! ♡

You couldn’t quite wrap your head around the situation, the entire trip to Oranada felt like an eternity. Your chest felt heavy with anxiety as you rested your head on your lady-in-waiting’s shoulder. Yuri currently was preoccupied with knitting herself a shawl, humming a soft tune that was so warm and inviting in contrast to the harsh cold winter outside. Your body was immensely tense and soon enough you were lulled to sleep. You were in a slightly foggy garden. Hundreds of white roses surrounded you and the soft scent of moist greenery filled your senses. It was the most beautiful garden you had ever seen. It’s bushes shaped to perfection, hedges surrounding you in an ethereal maze. Despite the peaceful atmosphere, sounds of thunder could be heard in the distance.

You looked up from your reflection in the water to see the world around you develop a greyish hue. Despite the oncoming storm and the smell of rain, you felt no fear. If anything you felt a strange peace, you didn’t want to leave this place, even with the incoming weather.A taller figure walks before you. You couldn’t make out the figure’s face, with features blurred out in the fog. You couldn’t even see the color of their hair. Your eyes squinted in an attempt to see clearer but the fog grew thicker and the storm grew closer. You stared at the figure with confidence. You weren’t afraid.

A soft melody begins to play in the distance, a romantic, soft tune. The figure in front of you stops about a foot in front of you and offers their hand, reluctantly, you reach out. “M’lady, are you awake?”

The sound of a sweet voice had awoken you from your slumber. “Miss y/n, we’re here.” Yuri’s soft voice softly echoed in your ears as you slowly opened your eyes. “Pardon me, I seemed to have slept longer than anticipated.” You smile sheepishly, your senses awakening as you stretch out your arms. “Don’t apologize, you hadn’t slept a wink the night prior so I didn't want to wake you so soon unless it was necessary” she spoke softly as her fingers ran through your slightly messy hair. You closed your eyes and for once let out a genuine smile at the gesture. Yuri always knew how to keep you relaxed. “They’re waiting for you, the king and queen are currently in an audience but for now we shall have you taken to where you will be staying and have you get properly arranged for breakfast with the prince”. Right, your fiance, the man that you would be soon spending the rest of your life with. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “Yes, of course, let us get going then shall we?” You mustered the brightest smile you could but even a stranger could tell that it was with full irritation. As your father’s assistant spoke with the royal guards in plans and details for the week, one had approached you and Yuri and offered to carry your luggage as he showed you to your guest rooms. The prominent tenseness you radiated could be felt by everyone near despite the warm smile you wore. “This way, your majesty” the guard bowed and the three of you took off. The castle was beautiful. It was large and held a very monotone color scheme. Soft greys and blues decorated the exterior as pine trees outlined the entire area. It matched perfectly with the winter atmosphere. Your heart once again felt the intense anxiety that you shoved away, just as sharp as the cold wind that stung your soft skin.

Yuri’s room was right next to yours for convenience, which was a wonderful surprise to you. You thanked the guard and as he spoke with Yuri in the hallway outside your room, you began to unpack. Your room was magnificent, with intricate paintings on each wall, and the wallpaper a beautiful cream color with black detailing. Two large windows showcased the beautiful winter cold outside with the grey laced curtains drawn. You couldn’t get your mind off of that dream you had. Normally, you had odd dreams all the time but this one felt so different. You could barely remember what you had dreamt about. A few light knocks on your door shook you from your thoughts as Yuri asked to come in. She had already been freshened up and dressed and had offered to help you herself which you accepted with a wide smile. Once you had properly showered and changed, your lady-in-waiting began to pamper and attend to your locks. “You have to make a good impression y/n. I trust that you’ll be as sweet and as lovely as you normally are but despite how the prince acts please try to keep proper composure and patience”. You sighed as you longingly gazed out the window, watching the clouds above the castle’s garden. “Yes, of course, I’ve come to terms with my fate. Can we please head to breakfast now so that I may meet my lovely betrothed?” You responded sarcastically. Yuri nodded and held a small mirror to your face. “You look so beautiful, just like your mother” she sighed as you stood from your seat. As Yuri walked over to your bedroom’s door you took a double take out the window. In the garden, a tall figure stood, back facing the castle. A young man with black hair could be seen crouching down, admiring the flora. Could that be the prince? You pondered as you approached the doors. Almost as quickly as he appeared, the young man disappeared. Shrugging it off you let Yuri guide you down the hall to breakfast. The dining room was large and like every other part of the castle, intricately decorated with the utmost depressing colors. It was a huge contrast to your home, with its main colors involving deep reds and oak browns. As you sat, you noted three other chairs on the other side of the long dining table. At least we won't be sitting so closely, you sighed to yourself. After what minutes that felt like hours, voices could now be heard approaching from the hallway, your heartbeat couldn’t be any louder with fear. You sat straighter, hands properly placed on your lap, chin held up with a smile. You had to make a good impression no matter what.

“Good morning, Princess y/n”. A velvety woman’s voice spoke to you as the doors swung open. To say the queen was a beautiful lady would be an understatement. She presented herself in a way you could only imagine to be, adorned in all black, lipstick a deep cherry red almost even looking like blood. Despite the intense vibe she gave off that sent chills down your spine, her face was soft and kind. “G- good morning, your majesties, it’s a pleasure to meet you”! You stood from your chair and bowed, mentally slapping yourself for stuttering. “The pleasure is all ours, your father has spoken very highly of you.” The king smiled, he too was dressed in all black, with navy embellishments to his uniform. His black hair was slicked back but you could easily see the slight grey hairs forming from his old age. “This is our son, Yeonjun. He is our only son and the one you have been selected to be betrothed to”. The king motioned as he stepped aside for you to see the same young man you saw in the garden earlier. Your mouth could have dropped the moment you saw him. It took everything within your power to not blush as for the first time, you felt the gaze of a male your age. He was alluring. His lips were the softest pink, plush and beautiful. His hair split in a way that his forehead was shown, said soft black hair highlighting his cheekbones. His uniform was almost identical to his father's, the only exception being he had very few medallions compared to the king. He was a sight to see and for a minute you forgot that this was a man that people rumored to be a future tyrant. “It’s a pleasure to meet you m’lady” Yeonjun spoke as he approached you slowly hand reaching out for yours. You nodded and offered your hand. Softly and as gentle as he could,, Yeonjun pulled your small hand to his lips and pressed them against it. “Y- yes of course. I- ah yes thank you I’m forever grateful” you stumbled out. Since when did you have such trouble speaking to other royals? You wanted to just run away and slam your head into the wall, head back to your kingdom, and pretend none of this ever happened. As much as you wanted to avoid his gaze, you didn’t want to be rude. Nonetheless, you couldn’t get yourself to look away. He had such an interesting aura that made you want to know more. What made things worse is that Yeonjun had the softest smile and the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen. This was not the prince that everyone spoke ill of, this had to be a different person. He had the intensity of his mother yet the way he spoke to you, even the way he held your hand, made you feel like he was nothing more than a delicate flower. A rose without thorns. “Shall we eat? I have something lovely prepared for us this morning” the queen interrupted, noticing the tension between you and Yeonjun. Ever so gratefully, you nodded as Yeonjun quickly pulled your chair further out for you to sit, causing you to once again feel your face warm up. Maybe the dress you were wearing had too many layers. Surely that had to be it. Breakfast went by quickly, Yeonjun didn’t speak a word as he simply watched you in silence. The king and queen were easy to converse with as they led the conversations. As breakfast came to an end both the king and queen excused themselves as they had matters to attend to, leaving you and Yeonjun alone for the rest of the day. “I’d like to take you for a walk if you’d allow me miss y/n” Yeonjun smiled as he offered his arm to you. This is it, he’s going to take you to a nearby forest and murder you, disposing you of your body. You mentally prepared for the worst as you took his arm, allowing Yeonjun to guide you to wherever location he had in mind. Though you had to admit, he was charming and this persona he was showing you definitely could have you fooled.

To your surprise, Yeonjun had taken you to the castle’s garden. Your eyes widened as you felt a wave of deja vu hit you. This garden reminded you of the one you saw in your dream. It was just as beautiful, white roses were everywhere the eye could catch, there was a fountain in the middle and a marble gazebo sitting not too far off. “This truly is beautiful, I’ve never seen anything like this” you whispered to yourself. “You’re beautiful as well” Yeonjun stated bluntly with a smile.

You turned to him, eyes wide and face turning a soft pink. “I- I beg your pardon? Could you repeat that?” Yeonjun blurted out a laugh in response to your flustered face. “I said you’re beautiful as well. I’m sure you heard me the first time miss y/n”. Why was he being so kind to you? You didn’t appreciate this fake personality he was giving you. Where was the rudeness? The snarky remarks? The selfish persona? Was this really the prince that everyone spoke so lowly of?

“Well.. thank you.. I suppose..ah..” you began, looking away as Yeonjun tilted his head awaiting your full response. “You suppose?” he quirked an eyebrow. “I suppose.. You’re also someone I find beautiful. You- you’re very handsome.” You mumbled, unable to still meet his eyes. Yeonjun chuckled and reached for your chin, pulling it upwards for you to look at him properly. “Why thank you, I know.” You would’ve blushed at the sudden contact but it then hit you.I know? You thought. What an odd response to a compliment. It was slightly… conceited? You blinked in confusion but then reminded yourself that you were speaking to the prince of Oranada. Right. You almost let yourself get fooled into thinking this was a dreamy prince from one of the fairy tales you read as a child. This is no man of your dreams.

Frowning as you pulled away, you huffed and looked towards the gazebo on the other side of the garden. “I should have known you were as narcissistic as they say” you spat, then instantly covering your mouth in shock. You hadn’t realized that you were thinking out loud. You looked over to Yeonjun in fear. Was he going to punish you? Was he going to call off the engagement? Was he upset? Yeonjun blinked and gave you a blank look as if he were still processing what you had just said. “You.. think I'm a narcissist?” he pointed to himself, his eyes growing large like a child getting accused of lying. Guilt began to slowly wash over you. Sure he could’ve been a jerk but what if he was just confident? Did you really have to say that to him? “I- I’m sorry! Please don’t be mad, I just- look! I may already have my thoughts about you based on what I’ve heard. I apologize for what I said but I’m scared okay? The world says the man I just met is crazy and a horrible person! Nobody knew you existed until a decade ago!” You exclaimed as you felt tears welt in your eyes. “I don’t know what you’re really like as a person! How can you expect me to not assume the worst..” you looked at the sky in an attempt to stop your tears from completely falling, the clouds were slowly rolling in. Yeonjun sighed and softly reached for your hand. You looked at him as he let out a weak smile. “Let’s sit over there, I want to show you something.” Not knowing what to say or do, you let him guide you to the gazebo and you both sat down. Your eyes searched around the garden in fear. Was he going to yell at you? “My parents knew the dangers of having me. When my mother was pregnant, rumors about the war were starting and they knew that if anyone found out about me, I would have a target on my head.” Yeonjun spoke softly as he looked down at his fidgeting hands. The personality he was showing you now was different from the confident and flirty one he was portraying earlier.

“My people sort of knew I existed, but no one was allowed to speak of my presence. When the war finally reached our kingdom, my parents had their hands tied, I studied a lot and begged them to allow me to help them. So I was presented to the world, and hardly even a day after an assassination attempt was made on my family and I.” Yeonjun’s voice was stern and quiet, you looked at him and could see he was still fidgeting in his chair. You reached over to place your hand over his and nodded for him to continue. “It was my first day on duty, luckily, I was able to apprehend the traitor myself. It was a spy who had been living amongst the people for a while, waiting for the perfect time to strike. My parents were right, he had caught wind of the king and queen having a son and tried to kill me himself.” Yeonjun sighed shakily and you held his hand tighter.

“I was angry, irrational even, before I could even discuss proper punishment with my parents, I simply sentenced the man to death.” Your eyes widened. Was Yeonjun telling the truth? This whole time everyone assumed the young prince had simply let the power go to his head, but he was just a young boy. “My parents found out after it all happened. After a long discussion, we immediately put the entire kingdom on lockdown. For our safety and most importantly the safety of our citizens. We chose not to explain the situation to anyone for fear that we would just invite more danger in our borders. Since then, we haven’t given much thought to the opinions of others.” He bit his lip and looked into your eyes, searching for understanding.

“Yeonjun.. If I may call you that-” He nodded. “I.. I apologize, sincerely. I realize my actions and words were harsh. If you really are telling the truth- which I assume you are- I just want to say that despite all those rumors, I want to get to know you more. If you’re willing to accept my apology.. I hope you’re willing to start over with me. Allow me to know you for who you really are, not the person that everyone else talks about.” You held his hands to your chest as you spoke, heart beating so intensely that he could feel it. He swallowed and nodded, releasing a weak smile. “Y/n.. although this marriage is already set in stone, I’m simply enamored by the thought of getting to court you.” As Yeonjun looked down at the stone floor beneath him, you could see that through his black strands his face was pure red. “Of course, I’m more than willing to offer you that chance Prince Yeonjun” you replied, and for the first time in a while, you genuinely smiled. Once you both returned inside, Yeonjun excused himself as he had matters to attend to. Thus, for the rest of the day, you were left with paperwork and your own duties as a princess. Just because you were away from home doesn’t mean you didn’t have work to do. So there you were in your room, Yuri currently organizing your clothes and you writing away at your desk. “So, you’re going to allow him to court you then? Willingly?” Yuri looked at you with hopeful eyes. “Yes! And although he won’t be making it to dinner tonight as he has to go into town, he promised he would meet me tonight in the garden” you smiled dreamily as you stretched out your arms. “Well, I’m glad everything turned out at least alright and he’s not insane.” Yuri chuckled as she placed the last pair of socks away. You placed your hands on your cheeks smiling. This was your first date with Yeonjun and you couldn’t be anymore pleased. You found yourself daydreaming of what could happen. Things finally seemed to be looking up for you, and Yeonjun was starting to seem more like the proper storybook prince you had always read about in your childhood story books.

#txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt fluff #txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun fluff #BakeryTreat♡

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rabbitcruiser · 2 years

Photo

Purple

What do you think about my pic?

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mangoisms · 9 months

Text

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter six: hear the sound of your heart breaking | read chapter five

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.3k

━ warnings: none other than bruce being bruce

━ masterlist

“Hey, Mari, how are you?”

“Doing good. You?”

You smile over the counter at fourteen-year-old Maritza Gonzales. She and her grandmother live in the apartment building next door. You were worried, initially, at what a fourteen-year-old was doing walking around this late at night but she doesn’t come around that often. Only on occasion and you suppose it isn’t that long of a walk. Safer now, you think, with your revolving door of vigilantes. Not that she or anyone else knows, but, you know.

“I’m good,” you say. “How’s your abuela?”

“Melting. We both are.”

“Sounds like you two could use something cold to drink. Might I recommend a Slurpee?”

“Predictable as always,” she says dryly, but heads over to the machine, anyway.

You chuckle quietly to yourself, hearing the machine hum as she serves out some. At the same moment, the lights flicker overhead, redirecting your attention. You frown a little. Started doing that a couple minutes ago. You assume it’s from the storm on the horizon, your phone having buzzed with a severe weather warning. Outside, the wind is picking up, thunder rumbling loudly in the distance. Nothing like a summer thunderstorm in Gotham.

Mari comes back over to the counter with a cherry-flavored Slurpee and a bottle of Boylan. A regional favorite of the state. You never managed to acquire a taste for it.

“Get home quickly, okay?” you say, not bothering to ring it up.

Her brows furrow. “I have to pay.”

“Nah, it’s on me.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Tell your abuela I insisted, alright?”

“Thanks.” She sends you a small smile.

“No problem, kiddo. See you.”

She waves—well, she waves the Slurpee—then steps out. The wind keeps the door swaying, refusing to close. You shake your head, stepping around the counter to do it yourself. You can’t stop from poking your head out, watching Mari as she goes. The wind whips at your clothes, the air smelling sharply of the incoming rain.

Once she makes it safely back into the apartment building, you close the door. Just as you pull it back into place, the lights flicker again.

You purse your lips, deciding to go and check out the breaker box. It probably is the storm on the horizon but you want to make sure everything is in order.

It’s in the back, down the hall, where the restrooms are, as well as the emergency exit.

You barely step a foot into the hall before the lights cut out, plunging you into darkness.

It is timed with the earth-trembling strike of lightning, thunder making you flinch with how loud—how close—it sounds.

Your heart pounds in your chest. The exit sign above the emergency exit glows red, casting an eerie glow over the now-darkened hall and store.

“Shit,” you mutter, sparing a glance down the hall. Seems likely that it was the storm but you want to make sure and there’s no use trying to use the light from the sign to look at the box.

Sighing, you turn back around, heading for the front counter. The spare flashlights are there.

Through the glass doors, the street is dimly illuminated with a nearby street lamp, blanketing it in yellow light. Pieces of trash flutter in the sharp winds. No rain yet it seems.

You turn your attention back to the counter, ducking down and using your phone’s flashlight to find the actual flashlight. That one is better and won’t drain your battery, which, given that the power is out, seems imperative to keep up. Everything inside here is dead except for your phone.

You find the flashlight, shutting your phone off. As you rise, the sound of the door swinging open roughly makes you squeak, shooting up just in time to see the flutter of something in the shadows.

Your heart climbs to your throat.

The door strains against the wind; it creates a current inside, too. You push your hair from your face, turning on the flashlight.

Light illuminates the empty aisle straight ahead of you, reflecting off the glass doors of the refrigerators at the back.

You take your phone with you this time as you step out from behind the counter, nervously sweeping the flashlight over the darkest spots. Nothing. It’s nothing. Must’ve just been the wind.

Your fingers itch to call Steph or Tim, just to have someone to talk to, but it’s late. Steph has an early morning shift tomorrow and Tim… well, who knows what he’s doing. A self-proclaimed night owl, though, so, if there is anyone…

No. No, it’s fine.

You tuck your phone in your back pocket and go over to the doors. It takes effort to push it closed again but you manage.

Once you do, you take a second to breathe. You’re too keyed up, like a live wire.

Lightning arcs in the sky in the next minute. You wince. Okay, maybe not the best choice of words but you’re nervous out of your mind.

Would you get fired if you abandoned ship right now? You’d lock the door—the front door, at least. That’s why you’re still here, lingering in the dim light coming in from outside. You don’t want to go to the back, to the hall with the creepy red glow.

Yeah, you think with a quiet groan. They’d fire you for not making sure everything gets locked. You need to go there, anyway. Check out the breaker box.

You chew your lip, staying there for another second. The back of your neck prickles and you shudder.

Where the hell is Red when you need him? Or Black Bat. Or Spoiler. Or, hell, Robin. Literally anyone.

An odd fluttery sound makes you flinch, whirling around. You catch movement at the end of the aisle, towards the ground, before it disappears into the next aisle.

Blood rushes in your ears. You grapple for your phone, your fingers slippery with sweat.

Despite your better judgment, you start down the aisle, shining your flashlight in every corner and crevice.

Arriving to the end, you step around the corner.

Nothing.

Slowly, you walk towards the other end of the store, sweeping the light down each aisle, tensing each time in fear of finding something. But you never do. They’re all empty.

You come up on the last aisle, sighing. It was nothing. You’re just seeing things. This city makes you too paranoid for your own good—

“Holy—”

You duck instinctively as the freakin’ bat that somehow got in is disturbed by your flashlight and flies up from the ground. You turn around quickly, stumbling back a few steps, your eyes finding the movement of its wings, suppressing the urge to shine your flashlight at it since that’ll likely set it off again. It disappears somewhere down in the opposite corner.

“Shit,” you groan. “Of course it’s a bat. It’s just a bat. Ugh. Scared the shit outta me…”

Shaking your head, you turn around to head back over to the counter—screw the breaker box—only to find yourself faced with something—no, someone —

The noise you let out is foreign to your ears. Your fingers slip on the flashlight. It clatters to the ground, light going out on impact, plunging you into the darkness. You stumble back.

Batman’s hulking figure is menacing under the faint red glow of the emergency exit sign.

“Oh, shit—”

It feels like the temperature drops several degrees as he takes one step forward. It’s just a single step forward but it has you stumbling back again, only to trip over your feet. You tumble back, hands flying back to cushion yourself, but that just sends a lance of pain through your left wrist as you hit the tiled floor hard.

You ignore it, scrambling back to your feet.

It’s like he waits for that, waits for you to be back on your feet, no matter how unsteady, and then he’s striding forward and you’re moving back until—

Your back hits the cold glass of the refrigerator door.

“W-What—I-I don’t—please don’t—”

He looms above you, terrifying, shrouded in shadows.

“Who else have you told?”

The baritone of his voice is gravelly, haunting, goosebumps breaking out over your skin at hearing it. You’re freezing all of a sudden and not just because of the cold glass pressed against your back. Your fingers are icy, clenching in front of you as you try to shield yourself.

“I-I don’t know—what—”

“Who else have you told?”

Your throat tightens painfully, eyes stinging. He takes up your whole field of vision with his massive form. You can’t see anyone else. Anything else.

“What are you talking about?”

“Who have you told about them? About who’s been visiting you for the past month?” he asks lowly, leaning further into your space. You want to sink into the floor and hide.

But then his words register.

Oh, shit.

Fuck.

Did Steph say something? No, she wouldn’t, she would never, Steph knows how to keep a secret. Did Tim? Is that why he stopped talking to you? Disappointed in the company you’ve started to keep? No, that doesn’t make sense, either, he likes his share of superheroes. They both do.

But also, what happens if you admit you told them? He won’t believe you. You can’t put them in danger like that, can’t put them on his radar like that, no way.

“N-No one,” you say, but you took too long to respond; the lie is clear as day.

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not, I swear, I haven’t told anyone—”

“You’re lying,” he growls. “Who have you told?”

You scramble for a different approach.

“They won’t say anything, I-I swear, I swear, they won’t say anything, I haven’t—”

“You told someone.”

“They’re—they’re my friends. I trust my friends, just—just leave them alone, do whatever you want with me but leave them out of it—”

He stiffens suddenly and you shrink back, the fire you’d regained at attempting to stress Tim and Steph’s innocence—their protection—snuffing out quickly.

But it’s not because of you. It’s—

“Batman.”

Relief courses so strongly through you at the sound of Red’s voice, your legs nearly give out.

Slowly, so achingly slowly, he turns away from you.

“Red Robin, Spoiler,” he utters, somehow managing to inject so much disapproval into those words you find yourself cringing.

Batman steps away from you and you can finally see past him. It’s not just Red Robin standing a few feet away, figure only slightly illuminated by the dim light coming in from outside, it’s also—Spoiler?

Spoiler doesn’t visit you on her own; she’s almost always with another and she’s also fairly distant. Not unfriendly, just… distant. You don’t mind. To each their own. But for her to show up here looking as angry as Red Robin does, tension holding her shoulders tight, hands clenched into fists, like she’s awaiting a fight, like she wants a fight, it’s… odd.

Red Robin is no better, but in the dim light, you can make out his expression, a cold kind of fury that makes the back of your neck prickle.

“What are you doing?” he hisses. “She hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“You were careless,” Batman says instead of answering that. “To come here, but to also not ensure she did not breathe a word of your visits to anyone else. Visits that should have never happened in the first place.”

Spoiler takes a step forward but Red cautions her.

“She hasn’t told anyone.”

“Yes, she has.”

You shrink as Batman’s head snaps to you. The white lids of the cowl should reveal nothing but you still feel the glare he must be sending you.

You don’t get the chance to tell the truth.

“Leave her alone,” Red snaps. “And let’s talk about this somewhere else. Spoiler, can you check out the breaker box?”

A nod.

Batman moves away from you and once he’s a reasonable distance, your legs give out. You slide to the tiled floor. Red takes a step forward but before he can come closer, the lights flicker back on.

The refrigerators hum to life.

In the corner, the briefly forgotten bat is disturbed and you flinch as it flies up, aimlessly, panicked, looking for an exit. Batman strides for it, leaving you two.

Red takes the opportunity to come over to you, kneeling, putting himself at your level.

“Hey,” he says, his voice achingly soft, not at all like how he was talking to Batman. “Hey, are you okay?”

Your visions blurs. You blink rapidly, unable to muster words with how tight your throat is. You’re still shivering, your fingers icy, your wrist throbbing.

He looks pained, reaching for you, but before he can, Batman appears around the corner again. Not the one nearest to you, but further away, where Red and Spoiler were—Spoiler, who has drifted closer to you, but looks away when you look at her. Her hands are still clenched at her side.

Batman utters their names again and Spoiler sets off first, stalking away, shoulder hitting his roughly as she leaves.

Your fingers clamp around the wrist of the gloved hand still paused between you.

“Red,” you whisper and you can’t seem to say anything else, what you want. Maybe an apology, maybe a request to stay, you don’t know.

He covers your hand with his, murmuring your name soothingly. “It’s okay. Huntress is right outside. She’ll stay with you until I can come back. You’re not in trouble, I promise.”

You don’t want to let him go.

It is a frightening realization but—you don’t want to let him go.

He has to go, though. Gently, he removes your fingers from his wrist. Without missing a beat, he unsnaps the heavy cape from his suit, motioning you forward. You scoot to him, so your back isn’t pressed against the still-cold glass of the refrigerator doors and so he can drape the cape over your shoulders, wrapping it around you. It’s warm, either from his body heat or the outside but both work, both help; the material seems both light and heavy. Not light enough that it’s flimsy but not heavy enough that it suffocates you.

You watch him, an unknown feeling burrowing in your chest as your eyes scan his face; he’s never been this close to you before. At this proximity, your eyes pick out how his hair falls over his forehead, the slope of his nose, the slight flush to his cheeks from the heat outside, the pink fullness of his mouth, a faint scar on the underside of his jaw.

It’s not the first time you’ve wondered what he looks like without the domino mask, what color his eyes are, but it hits you harder in this moment, an odd feeling nudging at you.

Always so strange with him.

But then he’s pulling away, standing up again, leaving you wrapped up in his cape on the floor. You let him go, dropping your gaze.

Outside, thunder rumbles and the rain starts to pour. It drums audibly against the roof.

When you look up, they are all gone.

But a minute later, the door opens. You tense despite yourself, despite knowing what he said, but you can’t help but fear that maybe Batman decided he didn’t want to talk it out, maybe he’s back to nail the point home.

The figure that steps around the aisle is not Batman.

The Huntress sighs, hands on her hips as she gazes at you with something like sympathy. “Hey, kid.”

You don’t say anything, just look at her. You aren’t ungrateful, but you are a bit confused on why it’s her Red sent for you.

You don’t voice your question, though, instead watching her watch you.

She nods to herself, then turns and steps over to the coffee machine. Grabbing a small cup, you watch her make you a hot chocolate.

“I know what you’re wondering,” she says when she sits in front of you, gracefully folding her legs beneath her and holding out the cup. “Why me?”

“Sorry,” you mumble, sniffling, taking the cup from her. Your left wrist still throbs with pain, so you don’t move it, grasping the hot cup with your right hand.

She waves you off. “I would do the same, if I were you. The short of it is—Batman is… kind of an asshole.”

You snort softly.

She nods. “And I’ve had great experience with that. The others, too, but they’re… limited by their relations to him. Me? I’m just another vigilante in the city who he doesn’t particularly like. He’s made this known frequently. The kid—Red Robin—has always looked past it for me. Formed his own opinion. But you and I share that and he knows that, too.”

“He really is like that with everyone?”

“Not as much with the Bats. But with everyone else, yes. Doesn’t matter, anyway. His opinion doesn’t mean shit to me, at least not for this, and I can tell you the others feel the same. He’s late to this party and it’s not going to stop just because he decrees it.”

“He wasn’t entirely wrong, though,” you whisper, staring at the cup. “I have told people. Just two. My friends. But I trust them. If I knew they’d blab about this to the nearest person, I would never say anything. But that… doesn’t matter to him, to you guys. It’s just my word, so I get it if it’s questionable.”

“Maybe,” she says, lifting a shoulder. “But you can’t change that fact. The real facts are that they haven’t said anything. You didn’t say anything. He only just found out about this and that’s why he came here. To ‘evaluate the threat.’”

You stare at her. “What?”

She shakes her head. “He would like to keep constant track of us but that’s not how it works. Not to mention Red Robin and Oracle have been making sure it all stays off-radar, just because this is what would end up happening. Or at the very least, he’d hover, do his ‘silent disapproval’ thing the whole time, then, at the first sign of whatever he deems a mistake or risk, try and force us to stop. Plus… well, there is never much that slips by him. I think we all wanted a shared secret that he wasn’t privy to, that he couldn’t ruin.”

She sighs, looking at you. “But I guess it’s too late for that.”

“It’s not ruined,” you mumble, finally sipping at the hot chocolate. It warms your chest immediately, the sugar helping. Your left hand is still a bit cold but your right has been nicely warmed up.

“It’s fine if it is,” she says, giving you a look, and it feels oddly teacher-like.

You shake your head, sipping at your hot chocolate again.

“Robin came by a while ago,” you murmur. “I was a little more scared with him, just because of Batman, but… it was nice, just like the rest of you guys are. I don’t want it to stop.”

That might be worse, if anything. If he managed to convince them to stop coming around.

“Don’t worry,” Huntress says. “Most of us aren’t in the habit of listening to him. I certainly am not.”

You smile and her lips quirk, too.

“Drink your hot chocolate,” she says, tone brooking no argument. “It’ll make you feel better.”

You do as she says. It’s quiet for the next couple minutes, just the sound of thunder and the rain pounding on the roof.

“Did he hurt you?” she asks, eyes narrowed on your left wrist that’s remained immobile in your lap, extending a hand.

“No,” you quickly say, gingerly laying your wrist in her gloved hand. “Or, I guess, not really. I just—he scared me. I fell on it.”

The corners of her mouth tighten but when she looks over your wrist, her fingers are gentle, poking and prodding.

“Doesn’t seem broken,” she murmurs after careful examination. You can move your fingers and wrist, it just hurts. “Most likely just a sprain. Rest, ice, compression, and elevation, got it?”

You crack a smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

She wrinkles her nose at that, but before she can respond, the door opens. You tense.

“It’s fine,” she says, gently releasing your wrist. “It’s just Red Robin.”

Sure enough, he appears around the aisle, thoroughly dampened from outside. His cheeks are flushed.

“Thanks, Huntress,” he says, crossing over to you two.

She nods at him, then looks back at you. “I’ll come around when I can. Take care of that wrist.”

“Thank you,” you say softly, hoping she can see how much you mean it.

Her face softens. “No problem, kid.”

She rises gracefully from the ground, nudging Red Robin as she leaves.

You set down your empty cup, waiting until you hear the door close, watching Red ease himself onto the floor in front of you.

“I’m sorry,” you say, when the two of you are alone.

He goes rigid, looking at you. “Why—?”

“I did tell others about you guys,” you answer, grimacing.

He opens and closes his mouth a couple times, then sighs. “It’s alright. I figured but… if you trust these friends, then that’s fine. You can’t change what happened, anyway. No one knows we’ve been coming by, so that’s all that really matters.”

“But—”

He says your name and something about it once again niggles at you; it feels familiar, the way he says your name, but you are thoroughly distracted from that train of thought when he reaches for your hand, squeezing it.

“You don’t need to be punished for it. It makes sense, if anything, that you might be freaked out enough to say something. Perceptions, right? You don’t know us. So, it’s okay.”

“Still…”

“If it’s forgiveness you want,” gloved fingers squeeze yours again; the warmth of his hand is palpable through them, “then you have it. None of us are mad about it. And if anyone should be apologizing, it’s me. We—I—had no idea Batman was going to come and talk to you.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he sighs. “He just… he can be difficult. Tetchy about protective measures.”

“I understand,” you murmur. “It makes sense.”

“It’s still no excuse. I did all my checks that were necessary. We all did. But that’s never good enough for him.That’s why he came out here.” He sounds bitter for a moment, surprising you. Then he shakes his head, as if pushing away the thought. “He won��t come back, though. Promise.”

You nod.

“Huntress said you hurt your wrist?”

“Sprain, most likely. Just an accident. I tripped and fell when he, um, showed up.”

He exhales sharply through his nose, disapproving, but his fingers are gentle when they glance over your left wrist.

“Still shouldn’t have happened,” Red mutters. “You’re not a criminal, you’re…”

“A broke college student working at Circle K for the summer,” you fill in helpfully.

He exhales a laugh. “Exactly. There are many others in the city that deserve our suspicion, but not you.”

It should be nothing. It’s the truth, the most basic of common sense, but the way he says not you is something different, like the thought of you ever being on the receiving end of the city’s vigilantes is an act against nature. Wrong. Inconceivable—inconceivable that you could do something like that, that he—anyone—could believe that.

You wonder where his faith in you comes from.

You wonder about the way it makes you feel, for him to believe in you like that.

“You can go home, if you’d like,” he says next, preventing you from thinking longer on that.

“I can’t,” you disagree. “They’d fire me if I closed up without notice. There’s no good reason for it, I mean, even if someone robs the store, they tell us to keep it open. Unless we’ve been hurt or anything.”

“You have been hurt.”

“Not by a criminal.”

“Hm. I can still rig something, though. With the breaker box. Minimal damage, easy to fix, but only by an electrician, and that wouldn’t happen until the morning. If the power’s out and you can’t get it back on, there’s no use in you sticking around, right?”

“I… guess not,” you concede. Would be easy to use the storm as cover, too.

You find yourself struck by his willingness to do this. The thoughtfulness nearly overwhelms you as you gaze at him; he is looking away from you, back at the hall, a contemplative expression on his face.

“Could do it,” he says, nodding to himself, then looking back at you. “So?”

“Suppose you’ll be taking care of the cameras like you always do?” you ask, eyebrow raising. It hasn’t escaped your notice that the security footage is continuously tampered with when they visit you. You don’t even care to wonder how they’re doing it.

Mostly because you know the expression on your face right now is fond. These vigilantes and their mischievous, if not totally unlawful, ways. The camera thing is for themselves, typically, but it’d be for you now, too. And you guess, in a roundabout way, the other stuff is for you, though. If anyone knew, you’d be in a whole lot of danger.

But the breaker box thing… that’s something else. That’s for you entirely, Red’s odd way of taking care of you.

You.

Red smiles. “Naturally.”

You sigh, lips quirking. You are tired—exhausted, after all of that—and not at all looking forward to the thought of finishing this shift on your own, since you are under no pretenses. Red Robin can’t hang out here all night. No matter how much you want him to.

“Please. I would appreciate it.”

“You got it,” he says easily.

You wonder about that, too.

You wonder about a lot of things regarding him.

But you’ll save those wonders for another day.

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morallyinept · 15 days

Text

Silver - An Ezra One Shot ☔

Written for @undercoverpena 's April Showers Challenge ☔ April Showers Challenge Masterlist Thanks Jojobean for putting this together! 🥰 This is Helianthus Ezra <- You may want to read that story first for context, but you can read this as a stand alone. 🌻

Summary: A heavy rainfall gives Ezra some time for some cleansing contemplation.

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader in terms of ethnicity. It’s you, bub. However, Reader has hair and is pregnant.)

Word Count: 3k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️ “Don't hurt me, cadejo."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/Triggers: Brief mention of genitals and unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/some heavy petting/it's mostly fluff - you're pretty safe.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: Ezra in the rain. 'Nuff said. ☔

MAIN MASTERLIST | EZRA MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

As Ezra works diligently outside the weathered homestead, his singular arm deftly manoeuvring rustic tools and materials spread out before him, he can't help but notice the subtle shifts in the atmosphere around him.

A change that sends a ghostly shiver down the back of his bronzed, sweat-damp neck. The once clear sky, so often dominated by the relentless blaze of the imposing sun, now bears the telltale signs of an impending storm.

The air, previously heavy with the oppressive heat of a stifling midday, now crackles with a newfound electricity - a palpable energy that seems to dance upon the incoming breeze. The usual azure canopy giving way to ominous, dark clouds, heavy with the promise of rain, swirl and gather on the horizon, their billowing forms casting shadows upon the vast sunflower field below at the bottom of the rugged slope.

With a sense of anticipation tingling in the air, Ezra pauses in his work, his keen gaze scanning the horizon.

He can feel the distant rumble of thunder, a low and steady drumbeat that heralds the storm's advance.

"It appears that nature, in its infinite wisdom, deems fit to grace us with the spectacle of a storm," he continues over his shoulder, a hint of anticipation colouring his words. "After enduring the relentless ardour of the sun's embrace for so long, the prospect of rainfall is a welcome respite indeed, eh?"

"Ah, Birdie, do you perceive the portent of the tempest that approaches?"

Ezra's voice, rich with the cadence of his Southern prose, carries through the weathered homestead as he steps across the creaky veranda admiring the view.

Perched atop a gentle hill, overlooking the vast expanse of the sunflower field, stands a weather-beaten homestead - a relic of a forgotten era, its timeworn facade bearing the scars of countless seasons.

Ezra's left hand, calloused from turns spent toiling under the unrelenting sun, moves with purpose over his glistening forehead as he speaks.

His eyes attend to the final details of the homestead's restoration, alight with a quiet fervour, flickering with a mixture of determination and contentment as he surveys his handiwork.

With its timbers bleached to a mottled gray hue and its roof adorned with moss and spackled patches of alien lichen, it seems to blend seamlessly into the landscape, as if it’s grown organically from the turf itself.

When you’d both happened upon it, your excitement unable to be quelled by your rambunctious ramblings about making it a permanent home, Ezra was only amiably ambivalent to give it to you.

The homestead's walls, once painted a cheerful hue, now bear the faded remnants of its former glory, peeling and flaking with age. The windows, their panes cloudy and streaked with grime, offer glimpses of the world of endless golden sunflowers swaying gently in the breeze.

Outside, a sagging veranda extends from the front of the homestead, its wooden planks warped by years of exposure to the elements. A rusted metal railing, twisted and bent with age, offers a precarious perch from which to survey the surrounding countryside.

A rusted wood-burning stove stands in one corner, its flue choked with soot and ash, an artefact of a time when warmth and comfort were still to be found within these walls.

Inside bears the unmistakable signs from rotations of neglect and disrepair left by its previous occupants. The floorboards are worn smooth by years of use and groaning underfoot, their once-lustrous finish now dulled by layers of dust and dirt.

Cobwebs hang from the rafters like ghostly draperies, their delicate strands shimmering in the dim light that filters through the cracks in the walls.

It’s a far cry from any modern amenity found back on The Pug. But that’s what makes it perfect, timeless. A piece of history tucked away in quiet surroundings where nature can provide any shortfall.

Ezra can clearly see the sunflower field stretching out before him; a sea of golden blooms swaying gently in the breeze. And he remembers that night you both made love amongst them on, what was supposed to be, a pitstop, but has now become an extended stay, possibly for the remainder of your lives, he suspects.

He recalls, with a smile, sleeping within the cradle of their thick stalks as you both watched the cosmos glitter above you, stars pirouetting in a nebulous sea of gases and mesmeric twinkles.

And as he stands here, taking a beat and surrounded by the weather-aged remnants of the homestead, Ezra feels a sense of determination welling up within him. For in this forgotten curio overlooking the sunflower field on the cosy planet you’re now passing off as a dwelling, he sees not just a crumbling ruin, but a blank canvas upon which to paint a brighter future - a restful sanctuary amidst the lonely ruins, surrounded amongst the golden helianthus.

"Oi." He calls out when he notices you haven’t crept out to his call, a note of concern carving into his twang. “Do you heed, Birdie?”

There’s no response, no indication that you’ve heard his words.

Ezra turns his back on the encroaching swell, stepping inside to find you nestled amongst a tangle of faded quilts and worn blankets; your hand resting gently upon your swollen belly, cradling the precious life growing within as you sleep.

It’s only then, as he watches your peaceful expression and listens to the steady rhythm of your breathing, that he realises the truth - you’ve been asleep all along, lost in dreams far away from his excitement amidst the gathering storm.

He reaches out to stroke your hair, and Ezra's gaze falls upon the empty space where his arm should be. A peculiar feeling as he swears he can feel his fingers brush against your skin before the obvious realisation settles in.

It’s a stark reminder of the sacrifice he’d made back on the Green Moon, a price in exchange for an extension of his grubby mortality. One, he pertains, was worth the occasional bouts of twisting nerve pain and the sensation of a phantom limb, for it led him back home to you.

Ezra feels a surge of protectiveness wash over him. He vows to keep you safe here, to shelter you from the storms that’ll rage outside, to provide for you and his unborn child with all the strength and courage he can muster. But with only one arm, that could well prove a difficult task to fulfil in its entirety.

Frowning, Ezra soon finds himself grappling with an ugly companion of unwelcome trepidation - a fear that gnaws at the edges of his bolshie consciousness, threatening to consume him with its insidious whispers of doubt.

How would you both manage, he wonders, in a world devoid of modern medicine and the reassuring presence of skilled healers?

But your stubbornness always stunts practicality, and ordinarily he revels in it, encouraging it to some degree with a lust for zealous menace. But now there’s more than just the pair of you and your reckless abandon.

He determines he’ll visit The Pug again soon to stock up on further supplies - trade some of the pilfered loot of Aurelac he'd hidden in the floorboards - and obtain another book amongst the necessities.

Most evenings, after his work on the repairs are completed, Ezra finds himself pouring over the instructional text, swotting up and absorbing its teachings with a fierce intensity.

He reads of the stages of labour, of the signs to watch for and the actions to take in the event of complications, often reading them aloud to you in fascination at how the vestige of your womb works.

And each day that time draws nearer, the opportunity for flight back to The Pug to the birthing pools snipped down to the fraying edges. You’re determined to have the babe here, in the sanctuary of your new home together; your confidence in him resolute, despite his own, insipid questioning of it.

Each word is a reassuring lifeline as he prepares himself for the role he’ll inevitably play in the birth of his child. But even as he immerses himself in the knowledge contained within the pages of the book, a persistent sense of doubt lingers on the fringe of Ezra's consciousness, refusing to be dispelled.

What if he isn't up to the task? What if he fails you in your time of need?

The fingers on his remaining hand brush over your brow line gently, and Ezra smiles.

“Dream irreverently of me, Pet.” He smirks.

His thoughts are dispelled by a rumbling crack across the sky, and the heavy fall of the rain that soon succeeds it. An ember of longing ignites within Ezra's chest, drawing him inexorably towards the siren song outside.

He steps back out onto the creaking veranda, bewitched by the ethereal allure of the cooling rain. The heavens weep, Kevva’s tears of liquid silver cascade from the graphite velvet sky. Raindrops, like crystalline jewels, dance upon the lackadaisical frame of the shelter, their gentle pitter-patter a soothing to his weary heart.

Ezra is soon greeted by the primal fury of the storm as it breaks fully, the rain cascading down in torrents; a deluge of liquid life upon the parched soil. Yet amidst the chaos, there’s a profound serenity - a tranquil beauty about it that transcends the tumultuous cacophony of the wild elements.

With measured steps, Ezra ventures forth into the heart of the spate, his senses awash with the intoxicating scent of petrichor and misty ozone.

He stands fully exposed to the ire of the rainfall, his face upturned towards the heavens; a lone figure bathed in the pewter glow of the downpour.

With eyes closed, allowing the cool rivulets to trace delicate paths down his, sweaty, parched skin, their touch is akin to the tender brush of silk against his flesh.

Ezra feels the weight of the world fall away, replaced by a profound sense of liberation. The rain washes over him like a baptismal benediction, cleansing out the hollows of his bones from doubt and despair.

He snorts, a light awed chuckle escaping him only to be swallowed up by the splinters ripping across the sky.

The rain whispers rejuvenating secrets in his ears, its symphony filling the void left by the silence of space. The lightning strobes blind him, leaving him with a flux of glittery phosphenes to die out behind the thin membrane of his eyelids.

He’s a neutron star imploding, leaving shattered stellar remnants that incapacitate and crack through the universe.

As the rain descends into a softened cascade upon the sunflower field, each golden bloom bows gracefully beneath the weight of the droplets, their vibrant petals glistening with moisture that refract the skewbald light piercing through the clouds in small, bullion slithers.

As he stands amidst the silver downpour, Ezra feels as though he's been reborn - a creature of pure sensation, unbound by the constraints of mortal flesh.

The rain soaks through his tattered clothes, plastering them to his skin in a sodden embrace, rinsing off the cares and worries of the world like so many whispered secrets carried away on the wind.

With each passing moment, the weight of his burdens seem to lift entirely for a few moments, mind blank with the rhythmic patter of raindrops falling against the earth, becoming a symphony of release, a melody of liberation that echoes in the depths of his soul.

With a smile playing at the corners of his lips, imbued with restoration, he hears his name emerge from the veranda, and turns to see you standing on it with a bemused expression lighting up your sleepy features.

His raggedy moustache is now adorned with tiny droplets of rain, glimmering at you as they catch the dim light, like coveted, precious gems taunting you with their expense. The stark blonde patch in his hair is stuck to his forehead; his crown of usual oil-slick waves soaked and pressed flat against his temples.

His outline seems to blur and shift with the movement of the rain, casting an amaranthine aura around him; his usually sharp features softened by the gentle glow of the storm.

His dark eyes, usually filled with a quiet determination, now sparkle with a sense of wonder and joy, reflecting the beauty of the moment back to you.

But it’s more than just his appearance that captivates you, leaving your breath floundering in your throat - it’s the way he stands there, amidst the storm, with an air of quiet confidence and strength.

“Majestic, isn’t it, Pet?” He simply calls to you as your smile grows. “Come on,” he sways, his fingers beckoning you with a simple flicker. "Come kiss me in the rain!"

It’s a beguiling command, one that carries the weight of swampy desire, pulling you towards him with an irresistible force.

Your bare feet squelch into the soil as you start forward, the rain soaking you instantly as you make your way towards him, all recesses of your sleep left in the warmth of the cosy homestead.

You laugh out, cackling and cooing as it pelts you, and he wraps his arm around you as raindrops blind you momentarily. Insidious, thick fingers roam over your lower back, pushing you closer to him.

The rain continues to fall around you both as Ezra pulls you in, its cool touch mingling with the warmth of your embrace. With a gentle yet firm grasp, he tucks you tight, his hand sliding down to rest against the small of your back, the globe of your tummy pressed into his.

Your lips meet in a haunting, tender kiss, each movement slow and deliberate as you savour the enticing sweetness of the moment. His lips are soft against yours, slanting with a gentle rhythm that seems to echo the pelt of raindrops all around.

His hand is still there, tethering you with his gravity, and you feel yourself relax, the hunch in your back and tension in your shoulders start to drop as you focus on his thumb moving up across your hip bone.

A little, tantalising circle or two before you feel his hand slowly make its way up around your back, and it leaves goose pimples flooding over your body, streaming towards your nipples as they harden.

The cold tingling wakes them up and they ache with the heavy pull inside them as his fingers trail up the back of your neck against your slick skin, groping and melding to the skin in your nape.

Feasting on his inflected tongue, gorging on loquacious groans that hit the back of your oesophagus, you clutch onto him tighter; your own hands roaming the map of broad shoulders, pudgy hips and finding a hard, swollen cock between his legs as you squeeze gently.

His fingers are then felt running down your back again a few seconds later, and once more the pull on your nipples is tightening as they strain, begging to be touched, licked, sucked...

Your gasped breaths mingle in the cool air, warm and inviting, as you both lose yourselves in the explorative intimacy of the kiss.

Then he stops touching you, denying you of any more contact, and you let out a barely audible whimper as you mourn the loss. Of course it's swallowed up by his mouth, but it doesn't stop it from coming out of you.

You then feel Ezra squeeze your ass, and you can't help but let a smirk erupt into freedom as he clamps a hold of it and massages it inside his hand as he dips his hips, making you feel him press against your centre.

He grunts as he nips on your lip and slips his tongue further around your mouth. You stay locked at the lips until you shudder as the cold starts to nip at your bones.

“We’ve lingered long enough in this spectacle.” He breathes, eyes dark and as foreboding as the storm. “Let’s shed our soaked garments in the warmth.” Ezra smiles, leading you back towards the homestead.

With a playful glint in his eyes, Ezra can't resist flashing you a mischievous grin as you make your way back inside from the rain-soaked veranda.

"You know," he begins, his voice low and teasing in its tincture, "they say sharing the abundance of body heat is the best way to stay warm."

He waggles his arched eyebrows suggestively, his gaze dancing with amusement as he watches your reaction. "What do you say, Birdie? Shall we put that theory to the test?"

He pulls you back towards him, peeling you out of the saturated layers clinging to your skin.

"You just want an excuse to cuddle." You smirk, completely naked before him.

Ezra chuckles, wrapping his arm around your bare shoulders and pulling you close.

“You know how to charm the pants off of me.” You smirk.

"Guilty as charged," he admits with a serpent-like grin, pressing a kiss to the top of your wet head. "But who can resist the chance to snuggle up with someone as lovely as you? I can't help but be drawn to you.”

He looks down at your body, the shapely swell of your belly, eyes trailing over the fullness of your breasts, hungrily. “You have this... glow about you, like moon bugs on a summer's night.”

He runs his palm along the expanse of your belly, stroking across it gently.

“Quite literally,” he agrees, nodding to them on the floor with cocksure mirth.

You pull his sodden clothes off into squelchy piles on the floorboards as you step backwards, pulling him with you until the backs of your calves hit the bed frame.

He sniffs in deep and smiles. “I love the scent of petrichor, don’t you?”

“It smells almost as good as you.” You say.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Pet.” He confirms with a crooked grin as he places your hand on his cock, groaning as your fingers curl around his throbbing length.

Ezra pulls you on top of him, explorative fingers knotting in the wet stands of your hair as he sinks into you. Exhales a deep, satisfied grunt pushed into your lips as he breaches the warm depths of your soaked cunt.

You both spend the remainder of the storm tangled up in skins and blankets, stopping intermittently to watch the thrashing spectacle refresh the land and sunflowers outside the homestead.

Thanks so much for reading - I have more Helianthus Ezra to come in the future. If you enjoyed this fic, please consider re-blogging and leave a comment telling me your thoughts. Thankies! 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST | EZRA MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #pedro pascal characters #undercoveraprilshowerschallenge #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect x f!reader #prospect ezra #ezra prospect smut #ezra prospect fluff #jett's writing

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sunflowerrosewood · 2 months

Text

Imagine... First Date with Hinata Shoyo

Imagine being asked out by Hinata at volleyball practice. You were the newest manager and a little shy. You became close with Hinata thanks to him immediately introducing himself. Within a few months, Hinata decided to ask you out.

Imagine his nervous stutter and shaky hands as he begins to ask you out. He wonders what your answer will be or your reaction. Will you laugh or will this change the manager/player relation?

Imagine when you say yes, he jumps for joy. The excitement bubbles so much in him that he is bouncing up and down. He's so giddy it makes you laugh.

Imagine Hinata plans a date going to the park for a picnic so you wear a simple picnic outfit. Hinata has gathered your favorite snacks and drinks too.

Imagine as you two start to set up the picnic, clouds start to roll in. You two didn't check the weather so the incoming storm was not on either of your radars.

Imagine as rain begins to fall, you two run under a pavilion. The roof covers from the rain and Hinata is apologizing profusely. Saying the date is ruined.

Imagine you laugh and say why not have the date here? It would be under the pavilion unless the storm gets bad and if so, you two can go to the nearby coffee shop.

Imagine as you say this, a clap of thunder occurs signaling your latter option is better. You two go to the nearby coffee shop to grab drinks.

Imagine as you two sit down, Hinata still feels bad for the planning. You can tell he feels down. So you start some small conversations about how he got into volleyball. Getting him to brighten up.

Imagine after a couple of hours, the rain lightens up and you two decide to walk home. Hinata is holding your hand and guiding you back.

Imagine when you arrive home, Hinata kisses your cheek. He's grinning and you are too. Another date would be scheduled soon....

#haikyuu headcanon #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu imagines #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata x reader #haikyuu hinata #haikyuu hinata x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyuu hinata shoyo

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astellx · 5 months

Text

pink starbursts

head canons/ drabble of yuji itadori as your boyfriend!

Warnings: literally fluffy, so sweet it’s like gum rotting, suggestive tones, reader and yuji have known each other since middle school, long term relationship

-Yuji is the type to pay attention to everyone but never really go out of his way to talk to people, like I see him knowing about you for a while but never talking to you because you never talked to him. (Hes still friendly dont get me wrong!)

You first met Yuji in sixth grade. He was sat right in front of you in class, his pink hair drawing your attention. Yuji was very warm, seemingly friendly, and popular. You noticed how it was nearly impossible to dislike him. The first time you ever spoke to him was about 8 months into the school year

“Hey Y/LN, can I borrow your notes from last class I think my textbook is missing something” He asked, scratching his head awkwardly. It honestly caught you off guard because not once had he ever spoken to you nor had he ever acknowledged you before. You peered up into his eyes before nodding and pulling out a baby pink notebook.

"I like your notebook. Its kinda the same color as my hair!", he exclaimed with such a heartwarming smile. You immediately started blushing before muttering a simple thanks.

After that you opened up your notebook to the page he needed before handing it over to him. This caught his eye as he made sure to mentally take note of how you're thoughtful because, you didnt have to open the page for him yet you still chose to.

-He literally is like a little puppy, he follows you everywhere and is soo clingy (even before dating him, he just wants to be wherever you are)

-Understands platonic relationships and is the reason you guys managed to stay friends for so many years despite obvious having feelings for each other

-Likes to surprise you and speak your love language. Like im talking buying you flowers randomly one day because you mentioned you liked them and then just constantly buying you more once those die.

-He writes on sticky notes and leaves them all over your notebooks and planner since he wants you to think about him but is too scared to ruin your pretty notes (as he calls them)

-Always just holds your things mindlessly. Walking home from school.... hes wearing your backpack, going shopping.... hes holding all your shopping bags, going to the movies... hes holding the snacks and your purse. and he wont even notice he does it, there'll be times you're like "yuji can I see my wallet?" and he'll be like "why would I have it" until he realizes hes literally holding your purse

-Takes anniversaries so seriously, like its the mf Olympics to that man. Whenever you ask him about it he explains that its because he felt like he didnt ask you out properly

It was pouring so hard, distracting you from your studies. Growing up you were always terrified of thunder and heavy rain but you never told anyone because you felt it was childish. Deciding to take a break, you put your headphones on, laid down, and watched whatever video essay on youtube.

About halfway thru the video you received an onslaught of texts from your best friend Yuji

5:16pm

Hey Hey Y/N.... Y/NN..... bruh it should only take you .00003 seconds to respond to me tbh what if I was dying what if I was an ant.. would you step on me ;(

Honestly those messages alone made you forget about the storm. A smile forming on your face as you imagined him texting you before you replied

5:18 pm

you're literally crazy the way i saw these messages right as you texted them but decided to wait a little extra to respond :) and yes I would draw a circle around you, fill water in said circle, and then step on you xoxo

5:19 incoming facetime.. my dummy <3

"Yes Yuji?" you asked right after pressing the green answer button, his screen was still loading before you saw your idiot of a friend. He was covered in rain water, obviously outside; trying his best to hear you through the storm

He was holding the phone close to his ear, allowing you to see the corner of his earlobe and what looked like your neighborhood "Y/N! Come outside!" he shouted

You learned not to question him anymore because at the end of the day you always do what he asks you. You hung up before sending him a thumbs up text message. Grumpily you removed your headphones and changed into a baggy hoodie and outdoor slippers, making sure to grab an umbrella before heading outside.

There he was, holding a beautiful boquet of red roses, different from the usual yellow sunflowers he buys you. 'Y/NN can I take you out?" he asked, slightly shivering from the cold rain water. Noticing this you moved forward placing the umbrella over the both of you before replying mockingly "We are out right now."

"No like.. let me be your boyfriend"

"Oh um okay.. yeah "

To say it was kinda messy was an understatement, you and Yuji had been best friends for ages but it was obvious you guys liked each other, he didnt really need to ask you out because in your mind he was basically your boyfriend already. So you found it very casual. Him on the other hand had planned for it to be like a movie, teeth clashing in a feverous kiss, hands groping each other, while whispering beautiful confessions. And then to find out you hate the rain also made him feel like he failed. So now every anniversary you have together he makes sure to make it as romantic and passionate as can be to "redo" the original thing

-Has a memo on his phone of all your orders from every restaurant or fast food place. He makes sure to update them if they change. He loves this because he loves surprising you. Especially if your feeling down or sick hes literally at your door with your comfort meal and a movie for you guys to watch

-Fake proposed to you with ring pops and forced Nobara and Megumi to film it for him

-Loves kissing you all over your face and he definitely calls it a kiss attack. If your being too sassy or have an attitude he says the kissy monster is gonna leave a kiss attack on your face and it immediately makes you laugh

-Fights with him never last because hes so receptive! His communication skills are perfect... "Hey babe I didnt like that joke you made because it made me insecure." "Okay Im sorry baby I wont make it again, is there anyway I can make you feel better?" Its just that easy for him because the respect he has for you is out of this world

-He is the king at intimacy, he just knows your body so well!

-He likes moderate PDA, handholding, hugs, simple kisses. Hes too shy for anything else but is never afraid to show you off

-Whenever he talks about you he just always refers to you as 'my lover' or 'my prince/princess/ royalty'

-Supports your plushie addictions, like what was that you wanted this hello kitty plushie from amazon. Boom its there literally the next day

-Really bad at being on time, he'll remember dates but never times

"Hey Yuji, dont forget we made plans with Megumi and Nobara for 6pm tomorrow okay." you mumbled thru the minty foam of your toothpaste.

He smiled at the sight of you (messily) brushing your teeth before screenshotting and then replying "Mhm dont worry my love, I made sure to put a reminder on my phone, were meeting at a sushi place right?"

"Yep! But Megumi had to call like a bunch of times to get us a reservation, so please be there on time"

"Of course babe, Im not Gojo senseii"

Its safe to say he was at the restaurant at 5 calling you all, asking why no one else was there yet. When you explained the reservation was at 6 he swore you said 5 before laughing and cheering about how at least hes not late.

-Asks you to move in with him by proposing but instead of there being a ring, its the spare key. When you start tearing up at what you thought would be an engagement proposal he quickly stands up before explaining its not what you think. You didnt talk to him for the rest of the night. But you said yes!

-After everything is successfully moved and set up, he suggests that you guys "bless the house" as he calls it. Safe to say that house no longer smelt brand new after that night and everything was thoroughly broken into ;)

-You guys live with each other for about a year before he does pop the question to you infront of your childhood home, in the rain. reminding you of when he first asked you out

a/n: i hope you guys liked this! its my first ever time writing something like this but yuji just is such boyfie material I had to! pls share your luv if you liked this or want more :3

#jujutsu kaisen #yuji itadori #yuji x reader

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mj-iza-writer · 4 months

Text

Because I read about a defiant Whumpee earlier and I want to write one now. -MJ

Caretaker rolled his eyes as Whumpee tore off the blanket and crawled into the corner of the room.

"Okay, you're right, I overstepped by covering you up", Caretaker sighed, "the blanket is yours, if you like, you looked a little cold."

Whumpee buried their face partially into their arms and glared at Caretaker.

"Or not", Caretaker frowned.

"Alright I'm going to get some work done in my office, if you need anything let me know", Caretaker turned to leave.

"Okay", Whumpee finally uttered.

"It's not you or them, it's the trauma", Caretaker whispered to themself as they walked to their office, "there is nothing you can do about the trauma, you can only show them they're safe, that's it."

Whumpee's eyes wandered the room, they didn't see any threats, but they knew to be on the lookout. They couldn't rest, no, something would happen if they let their guard down.

Whumpee hadn't slept in days, after Caretaker would leave the bedroom Whumpee would sit up. They would quickly lay down and fake sleeping if Caretaker came in.

'Why won't he just do it and get it over with. Beat me up or something', Whumpee would often think to themself.

Whumpee's eyes grew tired, they shivered a little.

'The blanket is right there', they thought to themself, 'you can't chance getting comfortable though. You'll let your guard down.'

Whumpee felt their head fall a couple times, they were getting so tired.

Whumpee jumped when a loud bang shook the wall.

They let their guard down. What was happening?

Lightning lit the room they sat in.

"No, no, no", Whumpee panicked, rain started to pelt the side of the house.

They covered their ears before more thunder could crash. Still shaken as it rattled the wall they sat beside.

Rain poured outside now.

Whumpee cautiously looked out the window when another flash of lightning lit up the sky.

They dunked under the blanket they had abandoned earlier and waited for the loud boom.

A small yelp escaped their lips as the floor shook with the thunder.

They used the blanket to wipe a tear before getting up and wrapping the blanket around themself.

Another flash of lightning warned of the incoming thunder. Whumpee quickly ran to get away from the window.

Caretaker looked up in shock as Whumpee hurried into the room, and shut the door behind them.

Whumpee turned to Caretaker, they made a petrified face.

Whumpee tripped and fell to the floor when a long-winded thunder shook the house.

Caretaker quickly got up and went to help Whumpee get back up.

Whumpee cowarded away from his hand and lifted their arms in defense of their face.

More thunder and Whumpee wrapped the blanket around their head.

"Please make it stop", Whumpee finally begged, "I'll do anything, please."

Caretaker watched in shock as the most difficult case they had ever had shook under the blanket.

"Okay, uhh", Caretaker panicked and realized suddenly that Whumpee was actually asking for help, their help. This never happened, "I can't make the storm stop, but I can make it quiet for you."

Whumpee uncovered their face and looked at Caretaker, "wh-what do you mean?"

"I need to go grab something. Can you wait right here?", Caretaker went to the doorway, "I'll be right back."

Whumpee made a fearful expression and almost felt like reaching their hand out. They gulped and nodded yes.

Whumpee looked around the room, their was no way of seeing the lightning in here. They could still hear the thunder and rain though.

Caretaker came in carrying a pair of headphones. He was adjusting the sides when he showed Whumpee.

"Wh-what is it?", Whumpee shook.

"These are noise canceling headphones", Caretaker moved them around for Whumpee to see them, "they cancel out noise, you won't be able to hear the thunder with them on."

Whumpee looked at Caretaker weirdly, but quickly grabbed them when another bang shook the house.

"How do they... how do they work?", Whumpee whispered with a shaky voice. Their throat felt dry and tight from trying not to cry.

Caretaker gently grabbed the headphones and placed them on Whumpee's head. He adjusted them to where they covered Whumpee's ears comfortably.

"Can you hear me?", Caretaker watched Whumpee as they realized they couldn't hear anything.

"Huh?", Whumpee lifted one side off their ears.

"I was asking if you could hear me", Caretaker grinned, "you can use them, I didn't know you were afraid of storms. I apologize for that."

Whumpee nodded, then put the part back over their ears.

"I don't like loud sounds", Whumpee finally admitted.

Caretaker nodded.

Caretaker cautiously reached for Whumpee's shoulder. They wanted to help Whumpee off of the floor.

Whumpee gave a weird look and pulled away, but then they looked at Caretaker.

Caretaker gave an understanding smile, it felt like they had finally gotten somewhere with Whumpee.

Whumpee looked down and nodded, letting Caretaker reach for their shoulder again.

Caretaker gently led them to a chair.

Whumpee looked at the chair worriedly, then at Caretaker. They had never been allowed to sit on furniture until Caretaker started taking care of them.

Caretaker patted on the chair inviting Whumpee to sit.

Whumpee looked at the chair and gulped as they went to sit down.

The chair reclined back, making Whumpee jump and knock the headphones off their ear.

"It's okay, the chair reclines. You can sit here and relax. I won't leave you alone", Caretaker promised before readjusting the headphones.

Whumpee watched silently as Caretaker took the blanket they had had and covered Whumpee up.

Caretaker grabbed Whumpee a water and a snack before they went back to where they were sitting.

Whumpee watched Caretaker for a while until they started to feel their eyes get heavy again.

They were thankful for the noise canceling headphones. The house shaking occasionally was the only way they knew the storm was still going on. This room had no windows.

Whumpee fought to stay awake for a few minutes before letting their head fall to the side.

Caretaker looked up when they saw Whumpee's head fall.

Caretaker sighed in relief, "finally", Caretaker looked back at their work, "I can't imagine what happened to make you scared of storms and loud noises."

Whumpee sighed peacefully.

"You actually let me take care of you", Caretaker smiled.

The next morning, Whumpee woke up they slowly looked around. They jumped when they saw Caretaker sleeping on the couch nearby.

Caretaker opened their eyes and smiled when they saw Whumpee looking at them.

Whumpee cautiously pulled part of the headphone off their ear.

"It's no longer storming", Caretaker spoke above a whisper, "there are no loud noises."

Whumpee took the headphone off.

"Wh-why are you sleeping on the couch sir? That doesn't look comfortable at all", Whumpee watched Caretaker sit up and stretch.

"To be honest, it's not, but it wouldn't be the first time I slept on this old thing", Caretaker chuckled, "I promised you I wouldn't leave you alone."

Whumpee felt their hard exterior break a little.

"Plus, I know you haven't gotten any sleep since you came here", Caretaker grinned, "you're not that great at faking, and you can't hide those dark circles around your eyes. I didn't want to disturb you finally getting some sleep."

"Why didn't you out me for that, I would have been badly punished if my abuser found out something like that", Whumpee looked at Caretaker with frustration, "why aren't you like them?"

"I'm not like them Whumpee, I'm here to take care of you and protect you", Caretaker stood, "you have been through a lot. I know you're angry, you're hurt, you're scared. It's understandable that you would have a hard time feeling comfortable."

"It will take time for you to feel comfortable around me and this house. Easy or not, it is my job to show you that you are safe", Caretaker sighed as he stretched more, "you can keep those headphones with you if you like."

Whumpee looked down at the headphones, "this last week I've been on edge. I've been waiting for you to hurt me, to do something. I didn't want to be hurt", Whumpee looked back up.

"I know you were trying to push me away, hurt me before I could hurt you", Caretaker stepped closer, "I'm just going to get closer to you, don't worry. Honestly, you've been one of my harder cases, but you've also seen the worst out of all the others I've had."

Whumpee breathed out the frustration, "but you've never lost patience. I've been so mean. How come you've never even threatened to hurt me?"

"I'll be honest. There have been times this last week when I questioned if I was going to get anywhere with you, I wondered if you would feel comfortable with someone else", Caretaker admitted, "sometimes certain patients might not match up right with a caretaker, and a different one might."

"You deserve the best services I can offer you", Caretaker smiled, "you deserve my best. I would never threaten you."

Whumpee looked at the headphones, "I'm sorry... for how I've been acting."

"No need to apologize, you were in survival mode. That's how you've had to be for a long time. I didn't expect you to be easy, I didn't expect your trauma to go away the minute I started taking care of you", Caretaker now crouched in front of Whumpee, "I will work to gain your trust, maybe then you can relax more and not be on edge."

Whumpee listened quietly as they fiddled with the headphones.

"Is that possible?", Whumpee sighed.

"I'm sure it is, in time at least. That is my job as your caregiver though", Caretaker smiled, "I don't ask for your trust, I work for your trust. I have to earn that from you. Okay?"

Whumpee whimpered as crying was becoming harder to hold back.

"I know this will be hard for you. We will work slowly until we get you more comfortable", Caretaker patted Whumpee's leg, then stood, "if you don't like something, then let me know, okay?"

Whumpee nodded trying to hold back crying.

"Okay I can see you are having a hard time with emotions, and you don't like to show those yet", Caretaker started toward the door, "how about breakfast?"

Whumpee nodded, then got up. They clutched the headphones close to them as they followed Caretaker to the kitchen.

Taglist: As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet

#whump community #whump stuff #whump writing #whump ideas #whump #whumpee #whumper #whump scenario #caretaking #oc #caretaker #caretaker and whumpee #defiant whumpee #trauma

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