#fear of storms

[wanderingmind867]

Apparently it's supposed to be something like 44 degrees celsius tomorrow, and that's unnerving me. I'm already sweating a lot today. Everytime I get excited, everytime I get worked up...I end up sweating a ton. And that's super frustrating for me. In winter, at least I have the cold outside to help with my sweating. Now? Nothing. My hands are clammy from getting excited earlier, and it's super frustrating.

I'm gonna have to wash my face later. I worry my throat sounds dry. It feels a little dry. I think it's taking all the effort possible to keep this house cool under these conditions, and it might be drying out the house too.

I sleep with a fan on in my bedroom now, you know. I need it to not sweat to death. I hate these summer conditions, and with a 40% chance of a thunderstorm tomorrow...well, I feel a great deal of nerves and trepidation for tomorrow. sigh...

[coy-lee-q]

Since it’s storming here, and I hate storms:

Headcannons of Sun and Moon comforting when there’s a storm? 🥺

Moon is the master at comforting those with storm based fears. He's good a lulling and rocking and singing to those that need it. If there are a LOT of kids having trouble, then Sun and Moon work quickly to put up the emergency "storm fort". Its like a big tent. They guide the children in and make sure there are plenty of fluffy pillows to squeeze and soft blankies to wrap up in. The fort tends to make the storm a little less scary and a little more exciting. It feels safer, but if some children are still anxious, then Moon is once again to the rescue while Sun plays games and tells stories to the rest of the kids.

[jesseevelann]

Kakashi jumped at the crack of lightning, his breath hitching in his throat before he let out a quiet whimper. The room was dark and quiet, the only light coming from the window showing the flashes in the sky. It was ironic for him, the great copy ninja being scared of lightning and storms, when his biggest jutsu was lightning itself.

A fear sprouting from his childhood, after his fathers death. Harsh wind, loud booming crashes of thunder and lightning, terrified him more than death. Kakashi hated bad weather, even the rain he grew to despise. It was always a sign of a storm. Being alone made it so much worse.

His eyes were fixated on the window, watching the flash and flinching at the delayed boom. His teammates were in a separate room, hopefully fast asleep and unable to hear his pathetic sounds.

Tears slipped down his face, hard shivers running up his spine from the cold air. The blanket he held to his nose was far too thin to sooth him. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, hoping his exhaustion would let him sleep through the rest of it.

"Sensei...? Are you okay?" A tired voice called. Kakashi turned to the door, locking eyes with an exhausted Naruto.

"A-ah... Naruto, I uhm-"

Naruto walked over slowly, being careful to not make the floor boards creak. Kakashi wiped his eyes furiously, trying to get rid of the fast-falling tears. Naruto sat next to him on the floor.

Kakashi's froze as Naruto's hands grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands away.

"You'll only hurt your eyes doing that..."

Slowly, Kakashi put his hands in his lap, Naruto's warmth radiating onto him from where he touched. Kakashi jumped at another crack of thunder.

Naruto pulled Kakashi into a hug, rubbing his shoulder gently. Kakashi tensed, but slowly eased into Naruto's hold.

"It's okay to be scared... I'm here, Sensei."

Kakashi sniffled and leaned into Naruto's chest, his voice stuck in his throat, impossible to speak. Naruto rubbed small circles in his back.

Naruto laid Kakashi down, feeling him go limp in his arms. Kakashi held onto his shirt, leaving Naruto no choice but to lie down with him. Kakashi slowly stopped crying.

"Sleep well... Kakashi..."

[cupcakes-and-pain]

Whump Prompt 14

Pet whumpee who is afraid of storms got a caretaker, but very recently and they’re still in the conditioned fear phase. One day they accidentally getting locked out of the house. As they tried to open the door for the fifth time, starting to fear this is a punishment, they hear the thunder start.

[yeslordmyking]

It starting to pour down and storm when I'm about to go to sleep is becoming an annoying consistency. This is why I prefer summer to spring. The transition from cold to warm is just too intense for me.

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

can you please continue the summer of whump: 7 snippet? I really really loved it and I would love to see more!

Okay so I have two Summer of Whump: 7 snippets, Sunburn and Storms. Because Sunburn was named Oasis and already has a prequel which is here, I assumed you meant for Storms.

If not, feel free to ask for the other one. I apologize for any inconvenience.

Storms Part 2

Part 1

Warnings: fear of storms, breaking in, drugging, manhandling, fear, restraints, crying

~

Hero started sobbing the moment Villain slammed the door on them, and then to only make matters worse, another clash of thunder shook the room.

This sent Hero into another screaming session as they blindly tore at the restraints. They wanted out, and they wanted it now.

Though, given the strength of the restraints and their unfocused adrenaline, getting out wasn't a possibility.

Another beat on the base drum sent chills down Hero's spine as they whimpered, dipping their head to their chest.

This was going to be a long, sleepless night.

《~~》

Morals were not something that Villain prided themself with. They had none, not even the gumption to go to Hero and at least give them some heavy duty headphones to block the sound off- or to at least dull it.

No, Villain didn't care. They threw the headphones on their own ears, and fell back asleep.

Only to be woken up again by an earsplitting shriek.

"Oh my gosh!" Villain groaned and rolled over, only to be met face-to-face with Supervillain.

Supervillain holding Hero by their neck.

Villain stared for a moment, then leaped over, plummeting into Supervillain. Hero lurched forward, relieved of the pressure, and landed face first on Villain's bed.

Supervillain and Villain wrestled for a while, punching and kicking without any real intent while Hero watched, contemplating wether or not to jump in or help or...

Leave.

The door was wide open, as was the frontdoor. It was so easy...

Boom!

Hero flinched, curling into themself, whimpering. They gasped for breath, feeling their chest constrict.

Another crash sounded the room, but this time not due to the raging storms outside.

Villain was lying on the ground, unmoving, with a dent in the wall. Supervillain stood triumphant over them before slowly turning around to face Hero.

Hero felt their heart lurch into their throat.

"C'mon darling, let's play," Supervillain said, voice full of venom.

Hero whimpered, squeezing their eyes shut. Oh they were scared, oh so scared.

"Darlin-" Supervillain was cut off by an arm suddenly wrapped around their throat.

"Yeah, let's play," Villain growled, squeezing their veins for a quick moment. Immediately, Supervillain's legs went jelly and then their eyes rolled up into their head. Villain was quick to jab them with a needle, administering the yellowish liquid.

"Get up Hero," Villain ordered, dragging Supervillain's limp carcass to the door.

Hero solemnly followed, gripping at their hands nervously. Any second now the sky could illuminate in light and then there would be the thunder...

"Hero? Oh my gosh, get moving. We don't have all day."

Villain sounded so annoyed as they dragged Supervillain down the stairs. Hero winced as their limp body thudded down each step painfully.

Villain then tied Supervillain up with the same restraints that previously held Hero. Then, they grabbed Hero themself and thrusted them back into their ropes.

"They're gonna be very disoriented when they wake, so mind yourself, okay?" Villain whispered into Hero's ear. "I might've put them a bit close."

Hero didn't breathe.

"Nighty night."

Hero waited in darkness, cowering away from the dimming lightning. The storm was moving away, much to Hero's delight, but now Supervillain was more of a danger.

They gasped when they woke. Hero could hear them scrambling around.

"Where am I? Where am I?!" They cried into the darkness. Hero felt obligated to shift towards them and grab their flailing hand.

"Villain's," Hero said calmly. "Settle down okay? You've had a rough hour." Hero didn't want to mention the way Villain choked them, drugged them, and then ruthlessly dragged them down a flight of stairs.

"Who are you?" Supervillain asked, tugging their hand out of Hero's. "I want to go home."

Who knew Supervillain could be such a baby?

"Yeah me too, but neither of us are going to be given that luxury, so zip it and calm down."

Supervillain whimpered before grabbing Hero's hand again. "I'm sorry," they whispered, breathing heavily. "I-i shouldn't have made things worse, I-"

"Just shh. You only made things worse for yourself."

"No, no. I know Villain. They won't not punish you for this."

"Supervillain? Calm down okay. Everything will be alright. Villain is more obsessed with their video games than us, alright?" Wow, where did this newfound confidence come from?

"No, no, no," Supervillain drawled, tone edged with exasperation and fear. "They aren't like that."

"Supervillain please. They are my nemesis. We'll be fine." If another storm doesn't hit...

Supervillain started crying, though Hero was starting to think that it might've been something else other than the drugs still in their system.

"We won't be," Supervillain rasped. "We won't."

Hero gulped... maybe Supervillain was right.

[flamingredanon]

Wanted to write a fluffy fic so I did

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[in-love-with-writing002]

Hide Under the Covers

Look sometimes I just need soft Lambutt. Also this one came from my discord server. So thanks, @his-white-wolf for the prompt, and @lovelyeskel for enabling me and giving some suggestions as well :)) Y’all can expect a couple other very soft Lambutt stories because I am inches away from finishing a slow burn fic (yet to be titled) with them and I need some immediate serotonin from this pairing.

1k, Lambert is afraid of storms, Jaskier comforts him. Kind of a crack!fic because Jaskier’s drunk, but mostly just fluff.

Also on AO3

It was getting to be towards the middle of winter in Kaer Morhen, and the snow was at its heaviest. Jaskier didn’t mind being cooped up inside though, as it was better than Vesemir demanding they shovel the courtyards every day.

He’d spent most of his time composing, writing songs about the old keep and stories about the people who lived there. Getting Geralt back to his home (with the help of some White gull) was a sure way to loosen his tongue on the details of his past. And the others were just as willing to chat, though Vesemir was more reserved. Eskel had shockingly raunchy tales to tell, and his dry wit had Jaskier more often than not laughing himself to tears. Hearing the tales about succubi and fisstech, sirens and a vacation in Skellige, and other more ridiculous tales were a stark contrast to his initial impression.

Lambert on the other hand, Jaskier could never be sure if he was telling the truth. The wolf held an air of mischief about him, and Jaskier was convinced he was embellishing more often than not. (Twenty wargs? really?) But he was a good storyteller, Jaskier had to give him that. And his attitude, though it made him seem grouchy, was another thing Jaskier found himself liking.

It was a dark and stormy night in the keep for another evening of storytelling and drinking, though the air seemed tenser than it had been on previous days. Lambert was also suspiciously quieter than usual, leaving Eskel to be the main narrator for the night. Jaskier was drilling him about what Geralt was like when he was younger and, much to the other witcher’s annoyance, Eskel was more than happy to share. He was in the middle of talking about a particular shenanigan involving trapping a bee in a jug when Lambert stood rather abruptly and declared himself done for the evening.

“Aw, but we only just started!” Jaskier complained. They had not, in fact, just started. They’d been at it for a solid few hours.

“I’m tired,” he snapped back. “Don’t let me ruin your fun though, have a decent evening. I’m just not feeling up to it.” it was much gentler than his first words, and Jaskier couldn’t help but feel concerned. When Lambert wandered off, he turned a worried frown at Eskel.

“Is he alright?” Jaskier asked.

“Lambert always complains when there’s a storm. Says it makes his “old bones” ache. Like he has any room to talk.”

“I think he’s scared of the weather,” Geralt said, his voice slurred slightly from his drink. “He was when he was younger, but said the trials knocked the fear out of him. I’m pretty sure it was bullshit.”

Jaskier kept himself from putting a hand on his chest like an awed mother. What a wholesome thing. Maybe that was the rum talking.

“I’m going to go check on him,” Jaskier said. “If he complains, I’ll blame it on being a human and having emotions. That ought to be enough.” He hoped Lambert wouldn’t lash out immediately though, he just wanted to offer some comfort.

Jaskier stood from the table, turning towards the rooms with only a small stumble. He really ought to stop drinking so much every night. He sauntered towards where Lambert’s room was, knocking on the door.

“Lambert,” he said, pressing his face to the wood. “Are you alright?” No response. “Lambert, if you don’t say anything I’m just going to come in.”

From the door across the hall, a voice spoke.

“Wrong room, dumbass.” Jaskier turned around as though nothing had happened and, instead of knocking, decided Lambert’s answer was invitation enough to barge in.

“Lambert,” he greeted as soon as he got inside, not bothering to take stock of what was happening. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” grumbled a voice from the bed in the room. A strained voice. A decidedly not fine voice.

“Lies,” Jaskier hissed, stumbling his way through the dark to the bed. “Geralt says you’re afraid of storms.” He moved his hands around until he found a Lambert-sized lump in the covers, sliding underneath to join him without thinking of the consequences. Or, apparently, that he’d been wearing his shoes.

“What the fuck are you doing in my bed?” Lambert asked, voice slightly shrill. “Get out- are you, Jaskier get your feet off of my back!”

Jaskier murmured an apology to him and stood up, taking off his boots and outer layers. “I took off my shoes,” he said as he slid back under the blankets.

“Why are you here?” Lambert demanded, though he didn’t actively push Jaskier away. Not even when Jaskier shuffled up against his back and slung an arm over him. “Jaskier…”

“Don’t want you to be afraid,” Jaskier said. There was something he could do here, he knew that. But something was missing. Not just the tiny detail of what exactly that was, something bigger, and heavier.

“I’m not scared,” Lambert said, right as thunder rumbled loudly outside and he cried out, scared.

“Hm,” Jaskier said as Lambert shuddered in his arms. “You’re not afraid?”

“It’s…” Lambert sounded like he was fighting with himself. “It’s just loud,” he admitted. “And it reminds me of some… not great times. Don’t you fucking say anything to the others.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Jaskier said, despite knowing that he had no actual control over what he did and did not dream about. “How can I help?” He was still feeling the effects of the alcohol, though his though process was improving as his brain realized there was an important task at hand.

“You don’t have to do this,” Lambert said after a moment, voice carefully even. Lightning flashed in the high window of the room, and Lambert shied away even from that. Jaskier held him tighter.

“I want to,” Jaskier mumbled. “I can tell you stories, if that’ll help, or sing—” Oh that was what he’d been trying to remember. His lute. “I don’t have my lute but I can sing to you.”

“Just…” Lambert shuffled around on the bed, and Jaskier’s breath hitched a little when he pressed his face into Jaskier’s neck. “Just stay here.”

Jaskier slid his arm around Lambert’s torso and squeezed, lightly. Lambert sighed, and Jaskier could already feel the soft hum of music in his throat. A lullabye, from when he was younger and got scared of thunder.

“It’s alright,” Jaskier whispered, brushing a kiss over Lambert’s forehead. It wasn’t even meant as a romantic gesture, just to soothe him. It did the trick because, when the thunder rumbled again, Lambert didn’t shake... much. “I’m here for you.”

He closed his eyes and started humming softly, waiting until Lambert’s trembling ceased, and then slept beside him until the morning came.